#KIM SEOKJIN YOU WILL HEAR FROM MY LAWYER | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

99liners · 2 years

Text

liberosis — myg;

liberosis; the desire to care less about things.

pairings: lawyer!min yoongi x trophy wife!reader

extra characters: kim taehyung and tanaz (enouement), kim seokjin and inaya (aphotic), jeon jeongguk and azumi (kaiho), park jimin and rei (nodus tollens), jung hoseok (psychomachy) (avengers, assemble!)

genre: angst, smut, contractual marriage!au, age-gap!au (10 years)

words: 31.390

warnings: tsundere!min yoongi, toxic relationship, talks of corruption, morally corrupt!min yoongi, morally corrupt!bts, minor/unnamed character deaths, yoongi is a chain-smoker (most lawyers smoke, believe me on this one), cold and distant behaviour, scenes with alcohol consumption, face-sitting, pussy-eating, consensual and unprotected sex, doggy-style, orgasms (f / m), mental abuse, mental breakdown / meltdown, hurtful words, mentally abusive, explicit display of controlling behaviour, extreme paranoia, irrationality, yoongi exhibits signs of pyromania (he sets ‘some’ things on fire), mentions of cheating, exhibitionism.

part of: tatemae; 建前 — a bts series.

a/n: let me warn you all, well in advance, that the legal depictions portrayed in this piece of work, specifically about ‘spousal privilege’ is not how the actual rule of law works and is a bit different (also can differ based on personal laws around the world). i took the liberty to alter some details to suit this piece of work better, so please take note of them with a grain of salt. your understanding is appreciated!

August 2020:

you turned off the water tap after using the facilities. at the very least, hospital restrooms are squeaky clean and hygienic. funny how a clean washroom is the highlight of your week.

the past week has been a ride to hell and back. watching your father fight death, suffering to take even the next breath, all because your family cannot afford the best cancer treatment. chemotherapy can drastically increase his survival rate, but it costs a fortune in addition to his daily treatment requirements.

your mother had passed away when you were around two years old, and since then, it has always been your father and you.

your father, a low-grade government employee, did not earn much. it was enough to get by, a low-key life with the proper necessities. you never had a want in life, but adversely, there were no funds in any bank for emergencies like hospital bills. your father retired around three years ago, his pension being 75% of his salary, causing a stretch in daily life. you have had part-time jobs since you were fifteen (15), but wages from part-time jobs hardly account for pocket money; it cannot possibly run a household.

you shook off the water droplets lacing your hands before standing in front of the hand dryer. there were some sounds of footsteps outside, almost like someone was pacing the length of the restroom entrance while talking on the phone.

you were too busy drying your hands when the dryer sensor went off for a few seconds.

“jeon, i need you here. there is a body, and i need it taken care of... what do you mean you are busy? i am fucking busy too... taehyung, that idiot called me instead of you... yeah? well, i don’t fucking care whether you two get along or not. i came thinking it’s an emergency because mighty kim seokjin told me. then i discovered that it’s beyond my concern,” the male, who now stood right outside the blurry glass panel of the restroom door, took a drag of his cigarette before continuing, “no, no, it’s not about hoseok. it’s seokjin’s business. some poor chap got stuck in the crosshairs.”

you heard the part of the conversation clear as day before the dryer started again. hearing the dryer's sound, the voice outside the door ceased at once. the realization did not take long to hit that you just listened to a conversation that you were clearly not supposed to. you tried to stop the dryer, but it was sensor-enabled and had a time lag before turning on and off. you tore your hands away from where they were lying under the machine, but by the time it stopped whirring, the restroom door opened with one smooth push of a hand.

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” the male groaned before putting out the cigarette in his hands and flicking it towards the trash can.

you stared in absolute shock at the male; he was dressed in a suit, made of lush expensive fabric, polished shoes. his tie was tucked inside the sweater he was adorning over his shirt and underneath his suit blazer. initially, you thought it would be a gangster, but the look of the sophisticated person standing in front of you caused you to do a double-take.

“what did you hear?” he took steps towards you, the automated restroom door closing behind him.

“what..?” your eyebrows scrunched together at the sudden interrogative tone.

“are you deaf? i asked, what did you hear?”

“nothing,” you replied sternly this time, holding your head high as you tried to walk away, but the male barred your pathway.

he looked at you, creating the illusion of towering over you although he is of average height and not that taller compared to you. he had a sombre look; the man meant business only.

“don’t make me repeat myself. i am not having the best day.”

“of course, guess hiding dead bodies is not your forte,” you blurted out unintentionally. your passive aggression is going to sign your death warrant someday soon.

an unmistakable smirk appeared on the male’s face, his eyes never breaking contact with yours, maintaining the upper hand, “so you did hear it.”

“well, you were not exactly being subtle,” you sighed and replied honestly, now that the cat is out of the bag.

“oh yeah? my bad, my first slip up and at what cost. humour me, what all did you hear?”

“listen, i don’t care who you are, who you work for or with, i won’t tell anyone anything. i promise,” you spoke softly, just wanting to leave, but he kept glaring at you till you finally gave up, “i heard you telling someone to take care of a body. i heard four names. i don’t know any of them, i promise.”

“you heard the names too?” he asked, almost in disbelief because that is circumstantial evidence. you nodded at the rhetoric inquiry causing the male to massage his temple with his forefinger and thumb, “what do i do with you now?” he mumbled to himself.

“don’t kill me please, i need to take care of my dad,” you spoke out, impatient to get back to your father.

“oh, little one. how do i believe that? you could rat me out anytime.”

“no, i won’t! i don’t even know your name! see, there’s the loophole.”

a dark chuckle left his thinly shaped lips, “do you take me for an idiot? i know a self-righteous person when i see one,” a reminder tone played on his phone, causing him to check it.

“i am serious, mister. this is none of my business. i heard things i shouldn’t have, and i am more than happy to forget about the whole incident.”

min yoongi, obviously, did not trust a word that left your mouth but decided to indulge you as he was running late for a hearing. this way, he can also understand your intentions better, “i don’t believe that, but for the time being, i am going to let it go and forget this ever happened.”

you nodded at that and meant to walk away, but the man caught you by your elbow. the grip was firm, forceful even.

“don’t think i will hesitate even for a second before ruining your life if you choose to open your trap anywhere.”

you wrested out of his grip, “i am not an idiot either. you won’t see me again,” you replied briskly before exiting the restroom. letting a sigh of relief on escaping the situation, you walked back to your father’s room.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

it did not take more than three days for the universe to make you eat your words as you found yourself walking towards the police station.

‘he is going to kill me, surely,’ you sighed, your hands clutching on the straps of the crossbody bag hanging from your shoulder. you stopped in your tracks around 200 metres away from the precinct entrance and turned back.

‘i need to be alive for dad,’ you thought as you started walking in the opposite direction.

‘but i should report it. they got someone killed,’ you groaned, stopping in your tracks. turning back, your eyes traced the precinct building while in the other direction, at a considerable distance, was the hospital where you came from.

confronted by your thoughts, you sat down on the pavement, covering your face. the dilemma was giving you a headache. you need to stay alive to help your father heal, but you cannot just not report a serious crime like murder.

it was sunny out, the rays of sunlight almost burning off the top part of your head, but you kept sitting with your face bowed down, trying to decide what to do.

“ma’am, are you alright?” a voice caused you to break out from your train of thoughts and look up.

“i am alright,” you croaked out after clearing the lump in your throat.

“you look out of sorts. is everything alright? i am a cop,” he showed you his badge, which read ‘detective jung minjun, violent crimes squad,’ “maybe i can get you a cab home.”

your eyes almost lit up at the sight of his badge.

‘is this a sign from the universe?’

you kept staring at him for a while before finally speaking up, “actually, i want to report a crime, but i am afraid i will risk my safety.”

“ma’am, we can help you with that. why don’t you come with me to the precinct and talk to my senior?” he urged you.

you were already leaning more on the ‘should report it’ side, and now coupled with his reassurance, you stood up to your feet.

i mean, what is the worst that could happen?

“alright. but i am still not sure.”

“i can understand,” minjun offered you an understanding smile before walking towards the precinct with you on his toes.

“sir?” minjun spoke up once inside the precinct, standing in front of the largest desk. the man sitting on the other end of the desk looked up from his desktop screen and urged minjun to go on.

you watched quietly from behind minjun’s figure, almost like you had taken shelter behind him.

“ma’am here wants to report a crime,” minjun moved aside and left, so now you were left face-to-face with the senior detective.

‘senior detective jeon jeongguk’ read the name plaque kept on top of his desk.

“yes, miss, go ahead,” jeon jeongguk stood up and walked to you, pulling out a chair for you, “you look anxious. here, have some water,” he moved a glass of water towards you.

you sat down, your body almost reclusing into yourself in the presence of the detective. compared to minjun, jeongguk had a heavier presence. his war-core attire screamed superiority in power. he was trying his best to be gentle, but there was a certain crassness in his tone. guess that comes from dealing with notorious criminals all day. you extended your shaky hand to take the glass of water he was holding out for you.

“it’s alright, don’t be afraid. we are all here to protect you,” jeongguk smiled before walking back to his chair and taking a seat, “now, tell me what happened?”

“i am not sure if i want to make an official statement,” you mentioned after taking a sip of the water.

“sure. whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

you nodded and narrated the whole incident to him down to the T, not leaving a detail out.

“four names you said, a john, taehyung, kim seokjin and hoseok, right?”

“yeah! you got them right.”

“do you want to make an official statement and report the crime?”

“i wasn’t so sure about it, but now that i am here, might as well go ahead with it.” you sighed.

jeongguk nodded and turned to minjun, who took the cue and recorded your statement. jeongguk stood up from his seat, grabbed his phone and mumbled a soft ‘excuse me’ before walking out of the precinct.

“your witness is here,” jeongguk spoke through the receiver of his phone.

yoongi, on the other side of the call, sighed, “i knew it. did you take her statement?”

“had to. i am not the sole person who works here, everyone in the squad heard what she had to say, and she wanted to report the crime, so yeah, she is getting her statement recorded right now.”

“fuck. i swear i can’t go one day without seokjin’s stupid issues blowing up in my ass. hold her there, i am on my way.”

“cool. it’s almost lunchtime, so i will make sure it’s just her, and i left in the precinct.”

“got it.”

jeongguk completed his call before walking back in.

“can i leave now?” you asked as the detective made his way back to his desk where you were sitting.

“did they record your statement?”

“yeah, sir. they did,” you smiled, preparing to stand up.

“can you hold on for a while? i have some additional documents i need you to sign.”

“oh? alright,” you let your weight rest back on your seated legs.

“yeah, yoon-” jeongguk turned around and faked being surprised with the realisation that everyone had left for lunch, “i am afraid you will have to wait, ma’am. form 15-B is maintained by yoona, and everyone is gone for lunch.”

you nodded, thinking nothing much of it and took out your phone to pass the time.

jeongguk offered you a small smile before going back to the case file he was registering onto the system after giving yoongi the affirmation that you two were left alone now.

it took ten minutes for yoongi to arrive from his office to the precinct. he sauntered in, as soft as a cat, not letting you any time to suspect that someone was standing right behind you.

you did notice something was amiss when you could smell a familiar cologne. you turned back in a flash only to discover that your hunch was correct. the cologne belonged to that very man, and now he was standing right behind you.

“you are a sanctimonious little prick, aren’t you?” yoongi smiled as he noted the look of dismay on your face.

you turned to jeongguk, “sir, this is the guy! he was the one talking about the dead body.”

jeongguk leaned back into his chair, “i know, miss. i know.”

“you... know?” your eyebrows scrunched together in disbelief. reports of police corruption are rampant worldwide, but it is indisputable that we trust the cops to protect us at the end of the day. when it happens to you, it feels surreal. you felt so helpless because you had nowhere else to turn to. also, you do not know what will happen to you now.

“so it wasn’t john but a jeon?” you asked after putting the pieces together.

jeongguk laughed, “well, they both have the same pronunciation, but yes, i spell it as j-e-o-n.”

you went to reply, but yoongi’s voice brought your attention back to him.

“you are big on words, little one. i must say, you even promised me by yourself that you would forget about everything.”

“i tried, okay! i tried, but you assholes killed a person.”

yoongi let a chuckle before getting a hold of your elbow, “get up.”

“wher-where are we going?” you kept looking between jeongguk and the male, scared for your dear life.

“to have the talk, little one. since you have chosen this path, let me show you your options now. it’s only fair,” he tugged on your hand again.

you stood up and followed him out to his car. it was a black rolls royce wraith. the male opened the right side back door and pushed you in like neither you nor the car meant anything. he got in after you, shortly.

you regained your balance and sat properly on the seat, “why are you doing this?”

“are you serious? i should be the one asking you that!” he reached inside his blazer pocket and brought out a sealed packet of imported Marlboro Vintage.

you scoffed, “well, it’s too late. i already made an official statement.”

“yes, that you did,” the male held the butt of the cigarette between his lips before lighting it up, “but you have to appear in court and testify in front of a judge.”

“and i will if that is not evident enough by now.”

the male scoffed this time, dragging in a long puff before breathing it out, “i was hoping you would say that. unfortunately, i, for a fact, know that you would not be able to make it to court. i am given to believe that your father is in critical condition, and chemotherapy can greatly help his treatment for renal cancer.”

“how do you know that?”

“i know everything about you, y/l/n y/n. everything. i have your school records in my office. top As but never joined college cause of high fees.”

“none of that has anything to do with you or this situation,” you looked around, trying to locate the car door. drawing in another breath was becoming impossible.

“just ask, and you shall receive,” the male shook his head before cracking the window open, letting the smoke move out as fresh air poured in, “my name is min yoongi. remember that cause you will be hearing soon from my assistant about the cheque. so, why don’t you be a good daughter and take care of your dad? go ahead and get a new kidney even!” he leaned in, a sick grin playing on his lips. the stench of cigarettes wafting through your nostrils as you only leaned back.

yoongi advanced a hand, causing you to clutch your hands tightly near your chest, but he unlocked your side of the door to push it open, “get lost. you will get your money soon. keep your trap shut.”

you peeked your eyes open, and after noticing that he opened the door, you got to your feet and left as fast as your wobbly feet could take you.

one month later. September 2020:

you came back from work and took off your jacket while listening to pending voicemails. most of them were just from your friends, but the last one was from the hospital. your father’s primary doctor had left a voicemail stating that they have found a kidney transplant match for your father. you played the voicemail over and over again, happy that your father can get better now. for the past month, you have held on to yoongi’s cheque, unsure if you should accept it, but what could possibly come before your father’s health? you walked to your room and pulled out the slightly tattered cheque from under the mattress. you looked at it with the same expression of disbelief as you have over the past four weeks. how can someone just hand over five hundred million korean won ($500,000) just like that? keeping it back in the safe place, you took a quick shower before heading over to the hospital to be with your father. he would probably rip out the kidney with his own two hands if he ever comes to know where the money came from, but you will just think of a lie when the time comes.

come next morning, you headed back to your place from the hospital to freshen up and head to work when a sealed official mail lying in front of your door caught your eye. the symbol of justice was unmistakable as you leaned down to pick it up. it was a court summons, and just like that, it was almost as if the earth stopped spinning, your surroundings blurred out as you read the letter. you are expected to appear in court next week thursday to testify. all five of your senses felt numb and hot at the same time as you made a run for your room to retrieve the cheque. you changed quickly, and instead of clocking in for work, you headed over to min specter firm. over the past month, you have gathered some intel on him. from the internet, you gathered that yoongi is a bigshot criminal lawyer who runs one of the most successful law firms in the country. he has completed his education from the top universities worldwide and charged a fortune for a single appearance in court.

however, there was not much information available about any other aspects of his life.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

fifteen minutes later, you were standing in front of the trust tower in seocho-gu. the board on the front side of the building read “min specter legal firm” in bold.

you struggled to take another step forward because refusing his money is not the problem. the issue is what he will do with you next. he is not the type to just let you walk free after you inform him that you intend to testify in court, after all.

“hey, y/n. eonnie, is that you?” a familiar voice broke you from your trance.

you turned to your left when you recognized the owner of the voice. your favourite junior-classman from high school; rei.

“yeah, it’s me. rei, oh my god, i am seeing you after graduation?”

“yes!” rei smiled before leaning in to hug you.

you stood there for mere seconds, your hands lying limp by your side before you eventually hugged her back. you closed your eyes after resting your chin on her shoulder, feeling less stressed as your tensed form relaxed under her reassuring taps on your back.

“what are you doing here?” rei asked upon pulling back from the hug.

“uh, i am here to meet min yoongi.”

“you are? is everything alright? are you in trouble?” she inquired as you both headed inside the building.

“h-how do you know?” you turned to her, visibly shocked.

“well, you don’t meet up with min sir, if you don’t have a business to discuss.”

“oh yeah, that. right. what about you?”

“oh, i work here.”

you both walked to the elevator as rei clicked on the floor button.

“you are an advocate?”

“yes, ma’am. i just graduated a few months ago, so i am fairly a newbie.”

you nodded, “can you show me which way his office is?”

“of course,” rei smiled at you, but it turned to a frown when you kept staring ahead, pointlessly, at the closed elevator doors.

rei extended her hand and kept it on your closed fist, giving it a squeeze, “don’t be nervous. i know sir does not take on a lot of cases, but even if he refuses you, i am here for you. let me know if i can help you.”

you looked at her with a smile on your face this time as the doors opened, “i will keep that in mind.”

rei flashed you a smile before showing you off to yoongi’s chamber. you bid goodbye to her before giving your name to yoongi’s assistant sat outside in the lobby.

you were called to his chamber within five minutes. timidly, you walked through the large oak double doors after knocking.

“what is it?” yoongi leaned back in his chair, his eyes trained lazily at you.

“i can’t do it,” you brought out the cheque from your trackpants pocket and kept it on the edge of his enormous oak table.

“what, do you want more money? is that it?” yoongi asked, crumpling up the cheque and tossing it in the bin.

you shook your head, “i can’t take a penny from you. it’s blood money.”

“your dad is literally on the verge of death. are you sure that argument matters?”

“i don’t know what matters or doesn’t. i will admit, i was blinded by the money, by the thought of seeing my father healthy again, but i got the court summons today, and it did help me snap out of that superficial happiness. my dad raised me better.”

“yes, and this is how you are repaying him by choosing death for him. literally.”

“exactly. this is how i am repaying him, to this extent.”

yoongi shook his head, “i have a murder trial hearing in two hours. my junior is supposed to come to brief me in maybe another twenty minutes or so. give me one reason why i shouldn’t just get rid of you and be done with this whole business once and for all.”

“i am trying, but i just can’t take that money. you can’t stop me from showing up at court next week.”

“are you sure? i can make a phone call, and you will end up the same way as the guy over whom you are holding this candle of morality.”

“please, don’t kill me. much like everybody else, i do not want to die.”

“i have no intention of having you killed, or i would have made that phone call quite some time ago. getting someone killed is easier said than done, little one. it will only cause me more issues. on the other hand, making your life difficult can be easily arranged.”

“then, i guess we have reached an impasse.”

“not yet.” yoongi tapped a button on the telephone, “jungha, can you summon that rei kid for me? thanks.”

“why are you calling rei?” worry graced your features.

“oh, you know rei?”

“yeah, she was my junior in school.”

“wow, this is only getting better and better.” an evil smile appeared on his face, “so listen carefully, when she comes here, i am going to make an offer with her as a witness. and if you refute it, i will fire her, and i will make your life hell, including your dying dad’s.”

before you could reject or agree with the notion, there was a knock at the door as rei walked in.

“oh, i am sorry, sir. i was unaware that you were with a client. i can come back later?”

yoongi shook his hand and pointed to the empty chair beside you, “she is no client. she is my fiancée.”

rei’s head turned to you in a flash. you are sure she must have gotten whiplash from it.

“you guys are engaged?” her eyes fleeted between her boss and you, in quite the frenzied manner.

you kept quiet, unsure where yoongi was taking this. was he trying to test you in some way?

“yeah. i asked you here for another issue, however. can you tell me what is the validity of testimony in criminal cases if spousal privilege is invoked?”

“oh, it would be inadmissible because the other spouse can just refuse to disclose any conversation as part of the confidential marital communications.”

“right,” yoongi turned to you, the same evil smile on his face, “are you free this monday, miss park?”

so this is where marriage comes up. he would be basically buying off your witness testimony.

rei nodded, “yes, sir, i am.”

“good. can you come over to the registrars' office on monday morning? y/n would need a witness for the marriage, but her dad is sick and cannot attend.”

“me?” rei turned to you again.

you finally looked at her. either you agree with yoongi, or you would be dragging rei along with your father in this mess. you have known rei from middle school through high school. while you had lost your mother at a young age, rei had lost both her parents. when you passed high school while rei still had a year left, she cried her heart out on the graduation day because you were one of the only few people who ever cared for her. you have always empathized with her, and dragging her down with you seemed downright cruel.

“yes, rei. i would like that,” you faked a smile.

“i would be honoured to, eonnie.” rei stated before leaving you alone with yoongi again.

“so, you can use your head after all,” yoongi commented after the doors closed behind rei.

“i don’t see the point of making her suffer.”

“aw, i almost forgot about your self-righteous meter. it has far surpassed the skies. anyways, i will see you on monday. if you have any boyfriend or whatever, hope three days are enough to break up and wrap up any other business.”

“please, think about it again. can’t we take another option? you don’t even know me! nor do i, you.”

“don’t care. i don’t date, i don’t have time for any of this bullshit, and i already did give you other options. this is the last bit of rope i am willing to throw you at having a life and watching your loved ones living their lives happily,” yoongi stood up, his fair veiny hands buttoning his blazer buttons, “see yourself out. i have to do the briefing for a case. see you later, little one,” yoongi pat the top of your head in the most patronizing manner before walking out, leaving you alone in his office, all alone with nothing but your conflicting thoughts.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

“isn’t this your senior prom dress?” rei asked as she tried to do an up-do on your hair. you already told her that it is alright, but she insisted you look the best on your special day. it made you almost snort in derision, your best day.

sure.

“yeah.”

“thought you wanted to wear your mother’s dress at your wedding.”

you almost stopped breathing on hearing that. yes, that is what you had always dreamt of doing, of walking down the aisle in your mom’s beautiful wedding dress. you still keep her picture adorning the beautiful dress over your dresser. she looked so graceful, a genuine smile on her face. that is what you had always visualized your special day to be and not this, definitely not this. with a stranger, in the registrar’s office, without the presence of your father, all because you refuse to cower down to the way of this unfair world.

“yeah, uh, it got torn during a move and is non-restorable,” you lied straight through your teeth.

“really? that’s too bad. okay, here, look,” she turned the front camera on her phone before handing it to you, “hope you like it.”

you took the phone and stared at your face on the screen. It was just a reminder of what reality has turned into and what you are about to walk into. handing back the phone to her, you faked a smile, “i love it.”

rei just stared at you, seeing right through your fake smile, “why don’t i believe that?”

“no, seriously. you have done a good job, love!”

“no, i mean. can i ask you something?” she continued after you gave her a nod, “are you really sure about sir? i don’t mean to sound too rude, but you two look like you have never even been in each other’s presence before.”

“i guess that’s just how we are,” you shrugged and watched yoongi walk towards you both. he was dressed in one of his usual suits.

“we are next,” he announced with his arrival and turned to rei, “did you get the next date for that theft case?”

“yes, i did,” the pair continued talking about the details of some case when rei stopped and turned to you, “sir, it’s your wedding day. let’s not talk about work.”

“yeah. that. right. totally slipped my mind,” yoongi mumbled, “thanks for, uh, taking care of,” his eyes turned to your face as he tried to remember your name, “my, um, bride.”

you stared at him in sheer disbelief and with disdain. did he just stutter while remembering your name? so now he cannot even remember your name?

after yoongi’s witness, kim seokjin and his wife inaya came over, the group of you headed inside the registrar’s office.

yoongi was the first to sign the documents before turning the marriage register and prenuptial document towards you.

your gaze was strictly trained at him, your hands shaking as they got the hold of the pen from his hand. your eyes still pleading him to not take such a drastic step. you knew he was not going to budge, yet you tried that one last time before finally signing both the documents, sealing your fate with his.

the registrar attested the document, and after all the formalities were over, the group headed outside.

“you know, we met because of you,” yoongi started in a sarcastic tone, addressing seokjin.

“ah, yoongi-ah, you don’t have to thank me,” seokjin laughed, knowing very well what yoongi was hinting at, but he could not miss the opportunity to tease the younger man.

“no, hyung, i am so grateful to you,” yoongi gritted further. his tone was in complete contrast with his jovial expressions, “i can never thank you enough.”

seokjin tried to stop his laughter but failed tragically, “cheer up yoongi. you were the only bachelor in our group, and i was sad to see you so lonely.”

“oh! you were concerned about me???” yoongi’s voice almost went up an octave in absolute exaggeration.

“of course! we all were!” seokjin turned to you, “we are kind of a big group, y/n. would you like to have us over some time so we can all get to know you better? i only want to see yoongi happy. you know, put a smile on that stoic face.”

you were caught off-guard when seokjin addressed you. after rei left, you were stood quietly beside yoongi while the two men talked. you did not fail to note the sarcastic tone of your newly-wed husband while he spoke about you. well, the feeling is mutual. you are not ecstatic about him, either.

you almost wanted to curse seokjin out. yoongi is correct, this whole thing is happening because of him, but inaya was there, who clearly looked like she was unaware of the situation, so you chose not to lash out publicly, “of course, mr kim. that would be lovely.”

“it would be so nice to spend time with you, and rei too, she was nice,” inaya spoke up, smiling at you.

you smiled back, “i would like that very much. i will have rei over as well.”

“well, the girls have decided then.”

yoongi fought off the urge to roll his eyes as the couple took their leave.

“i have to go to court,” he spoke after taking a glance at his wristwatch, “my driver will take you to my place.”

“alright. i will be gone to the hospital till late.”

yoongi shrugged, “hardly matters to me. i am home mostly after ten in the night.”

“oh. okay,” you replied before getting in the car, and the driver first dropped off yoongi at the court before taking you to his place.

you stepped out of the car, your eyes stuck at the beautiful architectural monument in front of you. while the driver unloaded your luggage from the vehicle, your eyes fell on a lady dressed in a black dress with a white apron, stood at the front door. she resembled one of those maids from the eighty’s movies. her hair was prim and proper, her posture — the epitome of vintage high ladies.

“this way, ma’am,” the driver spoke up as he carried your luggage towards the entrance.

you followed him quietly till you saw the lady approaching you. she had the kindest smile you have ever encountered. although her skin was riddled with wrinkles, her features were sharp, nonetheless. she reminded you a lot of your own dead mother.

“i am juyun, ma’am, and i have been at mr min’s service for more than a decade. i am his family housekeeper. it’s so great to meet you.”

“please call me y/n, and it’s great to meet you, as well.”

“oh, i can never, ma’am. that would be inappropriate. if you kindly will, this way,” she twisted open the handle on the front door to usher you inside.

you walked inside the house as prompted by the kind maid. the driver brought your luggage and placed it in yoongi’s bedroom. early in the morning, yoongi had picked you up from your place along with your stuff. first, you headed to the registrar’s office and now here you are. within a matter of a few hours, your address, your marital status and your fate changed.

you looked around the house, which was nothing less than a palace.

“would you like to take a look around?” the kind maid, juyun, spoke up when you kept looking at the expensive paintings mounted on the wall.

“no, thank you. i have to go meet my father.”

“would you like me to draw a bath for you, instead?”

“yes, that would be nice,” you turned to her after finishing your short eye-tour.

juyun nodded and walked to yoongi’s room with you on her tow. one look around the room, and you knew it was yoongi’s bedroom. neatly organized and a hundred per cent devoid of any kind of personal memento, almost like it is specifically designed to be devoid of any personal touch.

“can you set up my room in the guest room, please?”

“as you say, ma’am.” juyun agreed at once like it was nothing odd. well, considering she has been in yoongi’s service for more than a decade, she clearly knew him better.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

later in the night, you were already asleep by the time yoongi came back home.

around one in the night, you woke up from a thudding noise on the window pane. you turned the bed lamp on and tried looking out the window but could see nothing other than a couple of branches of the maple tree on the porch. due to the night breeze, the branches might have been crashing against the window. turning the light off, you laid back down, but in the moonlight, the shadow of the branches on the opposite wall looked like a hunched over man in a dark overcoat.

you are not one to get scared, but the unrhythmic thudding of the branches against the glass pane in the dead of night, inside a strange new house and empty room gave you the chills. juyun had informed you that she leaves the household premises before nightfall, so you knew, yoongi and you were the only people left in the house.

not thinking much of it, you went to sleep that night only to find yourself in the exact same situation the very next night. you held the comforter close to your chest, the darkness around you leaving room for an eerie aura to envelope the air. additionally, the shapeless shadows formed by the tree's branches were nothing less than scary.

that night as you slept, you had the worst nightmare. you dreamt of being chased by a shapeless form who wanted nothing but to hurt you — hurt you bad. it was malicious and evil. it made no sense because you have never had nightmares like these.

you woke up to your ringtone blaring loudly. it was an unknown number, and you hesitated to answer it, but right before the call would finish ringing completely, you picked it up. it was the state prosecutor’s office asking you to come over so they can prep you for the trial tomorrow. right. you still have to appear in court. given how sly and resourceful yoongi is, you already had the feeling that even appearing in court would not really amount to anything. nonetheless, you were going to exhaust all your options at helping out the dead fellow.

thursday came in a blurry, and you were up all night thinking about all the possible outcomes. last night when yoongi came back home, he had come up to your room to ask you if you were still planning to show up at court. when you replied in the affirmative, he just laughed. there was an air of smugness surrounding him like he had already planned ahead, at least, five moves.

at the first rays of sunlight illuminating your room, you left the bed and started searching up courtroom etiquettes online. you have never been more nervous in life, it felt like the most significant examination of your life and you, so badly, wanted to pass.

you rummaged through your luggage to pull out your only formal skirt. tucking the white dress shirt inside the skirt, you stood in front of the mirror in the washroom to look for any creases. sighing, you grabbed the comb and neatly gathered every strand of hair to tie it in a ponytail before walking out in a pair of heels.

yoongi was having his breakfast while reading the newspaper. he took one look at you before turning the page to the finance section, “someone knows how to clean up.”

you kept quiet and headed towards the door.

“i can drop you off, i mean i am going to court as well. courtesy of you.”

“i can go there myself, thank you,” you replied before exiting the house. the bus takes half an hour to reach the trial court compound, and you did not want to risk arriving late.

reaching the court compound, you found your way around and sat in the spectator stand, your hands sweating from feeling extremely anxious and nervous. you kept memorising how to refer the judge, ‘your honour, my name is y/n.’ ‘your highness?’ ‘no, your honour’ ‘or is it your lord/ladyship?’

“top of the morning to you, little one,” your husband whispered when he walked past you to the attorney table and sat on the left side. he was accompanied by another sharp-looking man dressed in a fine suit.

you rolled your eyes at that but kept sitting quietly. the stand filled up soon to about half of its capacity, and everyone rose to their feet once the judge entered the courtroom. the trial started within moments, and you watched the sharp-looking man, introduced as the defence counsel, mr harvey specter, skilfully refute every piece of evidence that the prosecution had built a case on. you were expecting your husband to fight the case, but he had his firm partner representing him. the whole exchange between the defence and prosecution went by in a flash. you tried to keep up with the arguments till you heard the prosecutor calling your name.

“your honour, i would like to call to the witness box prosecution’s last witness, y/n,” the public prosecutor said after presenting all the facts.

“permission granted,” presiding judge marly replied.

prompted by the prosecutor, you stood up and walked to the witness box. it was surreal and nothing like how it is usually portrayed on television.

“state your name for the record and relation to the case,” the judge asked once you were done repeating the words of affirmation.

“your honour, my name is y/n..” you trailed off.

“are you sure, dear? you sound unsure of it,” marly J. commented, her dominant hand scribbling away.

your eyes followed her hand, your own shaking a bit. you turned forward to notice that everyone in the courtroom had their eyes on you. mainly, that unmistakable predatory gaze of min yoongi, who looked like this was all a piece of cake for him.

“miss, can you state your name for the record and relation to the case,” the prosecutor repeated the judge’s words when you kept sitting quietly.

“i-i’m sorry. my name is y/n, and i heard a conversation regarding the murder.”

“can you tell the court what you heard? verbatim, if you will,” the prosecutor asked of you next.

you nodded and duly obliged, narrating the exact words of the conversation that you had heard that day.

“do you swear that this is a true and accurate statement?” the judge asked.

you nodded, “yes, your honour.”

“do you recognize that man,” the prosecutor pointed at yoongi, “as the one who had that particular phone call conversation?”

you followed the prosecutor’s hand and looked at yoongi, who winked at you. the gall of this man.

“yes, sir. that’s him.”

“let the record reflect that the witness has identified the defendant. no further questions, your honour,” the prosecutor walked to the attorney table and sat down.

mr specter stood up once the state prosecutor sat down. he fixed his blazer, buttoning it up as he walked to the stand and stood in front of you.

“miss, can you state your full name for the record? the name that you have taken over since your marriage,” he started.

“min y/n.”

“married to?”

“min yoongi,” your eyes boring holes into yoongi’s, who smirked a little at your tone.

“can you please tell the court what this is?” mr. specter brought over a piece of paper and handed it to you.

you took the paper and glanced at it quickly, “it’s the marriage certificate of mr min and i.”

“very well, can you tell me when is it dated?”

“16th August...” you read out the date, and at the realization, your voice died down. it was back-dated. you married him two days ago, not one month ago but the date on the marriage certificate said otherwise. clearly attested by the government ordained registrar.

mr specter turned, “let the record show that the prime witness of the case is the wife of one of the named defendants, and the conversation took place after they were married.”

“objection your honour,” the prosecutor stood up, “relevancy.”

the judge turned to mr specter for his reasoning.

“your honour, the relevancy of this established fact will be shown to the courtroom very soon. in order to do that, i would like to call the defendant, min yoongi, to the stand.”

“very well. please proceed.”

you stood up and walked down, giving space for yoongi to take the seat. you were feeling airy headed since you knew precisely what yoongi was going to do. truth be told, you showed up at court today solely on that last morsel of hope that maybe your testimony can amount to anything, something, but yoongi was going to tear it all down to nothing.

“mr min, do you recognise this woman as your wife?” mr specter asked.

before yoongi could answer, however, the prosecutor spoke up.

“objection, your honour. already asked and answered. counsel is wasting the court's time.”

mr specter did not wait for the judge to rebuke him and started, “seems like my learned friend is in a hurry, so allow me to rephrase. do you recall having the conversation with or in front of your wife, min y/n?”

“no, your honour,” yoongi lied through his teeth, “i do not recall having that conversation even in the slightest. additionally, anything between my wife and i is protected under spousal privilege.”

“counsellors, approach the bench. you too, mr min,” marly J. commanded before walking to the attached judge’s room.

the prosecutor, mr specter and yoongi walked to the judge's room.

marly J. was sitting in her chair and had a distasteful scowl on her face, “mr min. my courtroom deals with criminal cases, not family issues.”

“i am well aware, your honour,” yoongi replied.

the judge turned to the prosecutor, “i believe your entire case was based on her testimony, but i cannot allow it.”

“your honour, please reconsider. this is the first time any witness has willingly testified against kim seokjin.”

“i cannot deny a citizen their right to the privileges they enjoy granted by the law. everyone is equal in front of the law. i cannot allow it. if there is nothing further that you can produce to stand your case, i am disposing of it.”

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

when the opposing counsels, along with your husband, had gone to talk to the judge personally, you could already guess the outcome of this whole stunt. defeated, you did not wait for the judge to pass the order and left for the hospital to be with your father.

that night, you were scared to fall asleep. counting sheep was not helping, neither was watching anything on the phone. your eyes drooped with sleep, but just as sleep started to seep in, you woke yourself up. but there is only so long till you can keep yourself up forcefully. soon you fell into a deep slumber and almost like a lucid dream as you saw the exact same nightmare. only this time — the figure had caught up and was about to hurt you, but you managed to wake yourself up just in time. now you know, the faceless figure is the dead man over whom you have, so far, risked and ruined your entire future. you have done your part. you cannot possibly fight a system alone when the corruption is at every micro-level.

on the fourth night, you seriously debated what to do about this situation. during all this time, you have had absolutely zero interaction with your so-called husband. he left for work around nine and came back around eleven, had his meals alone as you had a different daily routine. juyun took care of everything around the house, so it was not like your presence was required anywhere. you kept yourself limited in the four walls of the guest room while you were in the place, the rest of the time you spent with your father, who was getting the treatment he needed. amidst the quiet of the night, as your mind raced through all these thoughts, a car horn from the main road caused you to flinch.

“fuck it,” you mumbled before getting out of bed. grabbing a t-shirt, you put it on over your racer-back tank and headed out into the doorway. you do not know exactly remember which way was yoongi’s room and amidst the dimly lit hallways, all the corners looked the same, but you kept walking forward till you came upon a door, wherefrom under the small gap at the bottom, a faint light was coming out causing you to knock at it.

there was a shuffle of sheets, and the door opened to reveal yoongi in his pyjamas. he was wearing a t-shirt with a pair of joggers, not much different than your attire.

“what?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

“i can’t sleep,” you admitted shyly.

“i don’t know any lullabies,” he walked in, leaving the door open. you walked in too, closing the door behind you.

“no. i mean, can i sleep here tonight? i’ll sleep on the couch.”

“whatever,” yoongi replied before sitting on the bed with his laptop as he resumed typing something.

you sauntered to the couch and sat on it first, watching yoongi work. he was not lying. he really did not care and continued typing whatever he was working on.

you took off your slippers and pulled your bent legs on the couch, letting your head rest on one of the armrests. your eyes were trained at him, your arms crossed over your chest in a fight or flight mode.

sleep took over soon, but it was uncomfortable to lie in that awkward position. you kept repositioning your head or your legs in the sleep, not being able to drift into a deeper sleep that your tired body needed.

yoongi finished his draft in about two hours. he turned off his laptop and looked up to see you still curled up in that uncomfortable position. for the past two hours, he has not failed to note that you could not sleep properly. he stood up, keeping away his laptop on his desk before walking to you. he let a kick on one of the legs of the couch, causing a vibration.

“get up.”

by the third kick, you woke up, squinting your eyes open. yoongi was standing in front of you, hands in his pocket, “what?”

“get on the bed.”

you sat up at once, alarmed at his words.

“whoa, whoa, i am not trying to jump you. it’s three in the morning, little one. i finished a draft, and i only want to sleep now. so just get on the bed. you are clearly uncomfortable.”

“promise you won’t touch me?” you asked, massaging the back of your aching neck.

he nodded tiredly, “go ahead. you can sleep on the right side. the left is mine,” he said before heading to the washroom.

you walked to his bed and crawled on the right side of the extra comfortable king-sized bed. by the time you settled under the warm covers, yoongi came out of the washroom and joined you. he turned off the lights and turned his back to you after getting inside the covers.

November 2020:

over the past two months of your early married days, your interaction with your husband has been questionably none. some nights, you overcome your fears and sleep in the guest room, other nights when they overcome your conscience, you end up sleeping with yoongi again, in his bed, against his warmth but that is about it. there is never much talk.

some days it feels like he is intentionally ignoring you or avoiding to talk to you but with time you have concluded that he is a busy person in general and is not exactly putting up a front to ignore you.

some other days, it feels like he is just putting up a show but he has other intentions. like when he shifts in his sleep and his hand sometimes falls on your chest, his fingers almost moulding to the shape of your breast causing you to glare at him but his soft snores are evidence enough that he is clearly asleep and the movement is unconscious.

either ways, he is a not a man of a lot of words. or maybe he is, considering he is an advocate. you don’t really know, and he never leaves space for you to know him any better. your marriage is a sham and will never pick up pace, so you turn your focus to the one constant in your life; your father.

after receiving the best cancer treatment (curtesy of your generous husband), your father did get better last month but after a few weeks, he started deteriorating again. the doctor has already informed you that there is no hope and you know too, that look in his eyes is unmistakable. more or less, you have accepted it but that has not brought any break in your daily routine.

every morning you wake up alone in the bed as yoongi wakes up before you, take a quick shower, finish your morning routine and breakfast and then head over to the hospital to spend time with your father. most days you read to him, while on others, he reminisces about his past and tells you more stories about your mother than you have ever heard since your childhood.

you were flipping through the pages of wuthering heights, trying to look for the last line that you read when your father’s eyes fell on your wedding ring.

“what’s that?” he asked, his eyes stuck at your ring finger.

“hm?” you softly hummed, very much invested in finding the bookmark till you followed his gaze and gulped. you must have forgotten to take it off before walking in his room a few hours ago, “it’s a ring.”

“for what?”

“fashion, dad. it’s just a ring,” you shrugged it off confidently, turning your gaze back to the book.

your father sighed. he knows you, he knows no matter how hard he is going to try, he will not be receiving a straight reply from you, “i still don’t understand how you can afford this CCU room. i asked a nurse and the per-day cost is more than our monthly rent.”

“i have told you, dad, just let me handle it the best way that i can,” you mumbled before finding the pencil mark and started to read again;

“i’m wearying to escape into that glorious world, and to be always there: not seeing it dimly through tears, and yearning for it through the walls of an aching heart: but really with it, and in —.”

“y/n, is there something you are hiding from me?” your father cut you off in the middle.

you sighed, putting down the book on your lap, your index finger keeping the book from closing, “not really. everything is fine, as always. i have handled everything, as always.”

your father turned his gaze back to the ceiling above his head, the same ceiling that he has been staring at for over a month now, “you know... your mother loved this book. her favourite line was honest people don't hide their deeds, and she truly lived by those words.”

“i am not hiding anyth—”

your father cut you off again. he overlooked your words as he was speaking in a flow, “i will forever regret that i couldn’t send you off to a good university. you were always the best in your class, always at a higher reading level than your current grade, and yet because of our family condition, you could not attend a university. like you deserved to.”

your hands closed the book shut, eyes now stuck to the graphic design of the cover as your father continued.

“and now i won’t be there to walk you down the aisle when you meet your prince charming.”

you unconsciously played with the wedding ring till you took it off and pocketed it.

“forgive me, y/n. turns out i am not the father that i should have been to you. i couldn’t support you financially, and i won’t be there for the rest of your life either. please forgive me.”

your vision turned blurry as tears welled up in your eyes, “stop saying that.”

“it’s the truth! you’re a good kid, baby. the best i could ever imagine having. all i can wish for till my last breath now is that you get the prince you deserve. a good guy who will take care of you better than i ever could.”

“stop saying that!” your enraged voice went up, unintentionally, “no can ever take care of me better than you did as a single dad. so just stop saying that. i will come again tomorrow,” keeping your head bowed down, you walked out of the room swiftly before your father could further protest.

sniffling in the hallway, you speed-walked to the restroom to bawl your eyes out. the moment your eyes met the mirror, the tears fell like an incessant waterfall. it took you around fifteen minutes to calm down, till your tears turned to a bitter chuckle as you laughed at the irony of your life. freshening up, you were drying your hands when you remembered that this is the exact place where your downfall started. the universe indeed has a wicked way to rub your face in it.

composing yourself, you left the hospital building to make your way back to the place you have been calling ‘home’ for the last two months. it did not feel like home. even the walls were unwelcoming. you had nothing to do. your status was nothing more than a piece of wall furniture, not even a fancy one at that. probably the cheapest one that your husband owns.

there were no visitors, no family, just the maid who leaves every evening after preparing dinner. everything around the house is always taken care of. visiting your father every day was the only sort of routine you had in place, but that would come to an end soon, as well, just like everything does in your life.

“you are back early today, miss,” juyun spoke up when you walked into the living room. she was in the process of dusting the window panes.

“yeah...” you trailed off, meaning to walk away but stood your place, “i remember on my first day, you had mentioned that you are yoongi’s family housekeeper.”

juyun straightened up with pride at the mention of her employment history, “yes. i have served the min family diligently, ma’am and wish to do so till my bones cannot take it anymore.”

“so what about his family? where are they now?”

juyun’s proud smile vanished within seconds at your question. oh, you don’t know.

“i thought you knew, miss.”

“what do you mean?” your eyebrows furrowed with confusion as yoongi had never mentioned his family. he hardly speaks two-three words to you, let alone talk about his family.

“around five years ago mr and mrs min died in a car crash.”

“i’m sorry,” your blood turned cold at the revelation. your fate must be so tainted that you do not even have in-laws to call a family.

“they were murdered, miss,” juyun continued, tears streaming down her face, “your husband was still making his name in the legal world, and he had put an evil man in jail. a gang-man who had killed many, and then one day, mr and mrs min were hit by a truck when they were on their way back home. it was clear as day that the gang-man was behind this. then yoongi sir met with seokjin sir and soon founded his firm.”

“is the gang member still behind bars?”

“oh no, miss. he is dead. he was murdered in his own cell. police suspected some gang rivalry.”

juyun’s tone was sincere as she narrated the story to you, but it did not take you a moment to connect the dots. your father used to call you miss holmes due to how quickly you can see the bigger picture even with incomplete facts, half stories or wrong clues. honestly, you are the one who finds it annoying when people cannot see through the truth, it is always glaring them straight in the face, but they choose not to see it.

yoongi must be behind the death of the gang member, he must have taken help from seokjin, and then jeongguk must have taken care of the police. it was clear as the day really, the affiliations are apparent enough. after all, you are another victim of the same affiliations, only.

“where’s your ring, miss?” juyun asked, her hands touching your bare finger.

“oh, i took it off to wash my hands,” you brought the ring out of your dress pocket and wore it, “there.”

“it’s gold, dear. you don’t have to take it off when touching the water.”

“right. will keep it in mind next time,” you smiled before making your way to your room.

when yoongi came to bed after finishing work that night, he was surprised to find you awake. you are usually asleep by the time he comes.

during the first month, he would walk to the washroom to change, but he has stopped bothering. your face is usually turned towards the wall near the bed, so these days, he just changes in the room itself.

“can’t sleep?” he asked, changing out of his dress pants and into a fresh pair of sweats.

“no, was just lost in thoughts,” you turned back unbeknownst that his upper body was bare as he just took off his shirt, “i-i’m sorry,” you closed your eyes shut.

yoongi snickered noiselessly on noting that you did not close your eyes immediately, but after taking a good look at his body, “ahha,” he hummed after putting on the t-shirt and walking to the washroom to freshen up.

“can i ask you something?”

yoongi stepped out of the washroom and made his way to the bed, “go ahead,” he raised the covers and got inside them.

“what happened to your parents?”

you rushed it. you asked the main question way too early before laying down any groundwork. he was in a good mood, but his expression turned into a scowl on hearing your question.

“i don’t wish to discuss my parents. ever. if you wish to gossip, feel free to leave because i need to sleep,” he turned his back to you.

see, this is what you do not get. why do you have to lay the groundwork for someone? why do you have to walk on eggshells around someone? why can’t you just ask min yoongi something ever and actually get a proper answer. are you not a receptive person? do you not deserve to be talked to? it is always the same with your husband. he never wants to talk, never wants to give you even the slightest glimpse of his life. all you want, all you need, all you wish — to just talk to someone, maybe tell them about how you are feeling internally, about your father, about this complicated fate that you have found yourself tangled in, about your future, what lays ahead — all you want is to talk. you are always making sure that you do not take too much space, trying to never bother anyone as everyone is doing their own work, always spending your time alone knowing that it is not anyone’s job to entertain you or hang out with you. no one has time for you. even life does not have time for you. you, on the other hand, have all the time in this world, always free, just laying around on the bed, eyes either stuck to the ceiling or out the window, watching couples, friends, family walking by, having fun, spending time with each other.

life must be colourful for them, unlike the black and white permanent filter veiling on yours.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

yoongi came back one day around seven in the evening, very much to your surprise. he sat down on the wingback chair placed adjacent to the sofa set on which you were sitting, watching a movie on television.

“don’t do that,” you rolled your eyes upon noticing through the peripheral vision that yoongi had brought out a cigarette and was about to light it up.

“i am not having a good day,” yoongi drawled out lazily before lighting up the cigarette.

you sighed, “well, i can’t really help much if you don’t share stuff with me.”

yoongi allowed his body to rest back against the plush upholstery of the wingback chair, his one leg resting over the other, “what do you want to know?”

you almost brushed over the reply till it hit you that he was actually giving you a chance to ask him what you wanted to know. your eyes went wide at the realization as you put the television on mute and turned to him, “are you serious?”

“don’t push your luck, little one. ask me what you want before i change my mind.”

you parted your lips intending to say something but shut yourself up. it is early days, and you cannot spook him off yet. going in slow would be the best option. he will let you in eventually, but you have to be patient. nodding to yourself, you turned to him, “did something happen at work? you’re back early.”

“not really,” there was an uncomfortable silence; the smoke from his lit up cigarette, held tightly between his long fingers, formed a cloud before he brought it up to his lips and took a drag, “a dumb cop filed the wrong charge-sheet against a client of mine and then my junior had the absolute audacity to let his phone ring inside the courtroom. kids these days are fucking embarrassing.”

you nodded, not to anyone in particular, acknowledging what he talked about. it did not seem that big of a deal, but you guessed it was one to yoongi.

you started thinking again before asking the second question. the last thing you want is for him to shut off as usual, “is there something that i can help you with?”

you were not expecting him to reply in the affirmative, but it made your ears perk up when he did. you can be of some use to someone? anyone? wow, what a day.

“yes, actually. thanks for reminding me. seokjin hyung is eating my head off about the gathering. he wants to call the boys and their wives to meet you. i swear if hyung and jeongguk text me one more time about this, i will block them.”

“we can have them over. i don’t mind. it would be nice to have people over, i guess. i mean, i would love to look over the arrangements and meet them.”

“you sure? they can be a handful. they are basically adults on steroids.”

you giggled softly at the comparison, “can’t be that bad.”

“fine. don’t say i did not warn you in advance.”

you went to add something more, but his phone started ringing.

“guess time’s up,” your husband put out the cigarette before making his way towards his study. he stopped in his tracks and turned to pat your head, “good talk.”

you watched him leaving just as smoothly as he had arrived, “condescending, cold bastard,” rolling your eyes, you went back to watching the movie.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

jung hoseok was the first one to arrive. as informed by your deeply cherished husband, you know that he manages the biggest chain of hotels in south asia and has been a loyal client of yoongi’s for almost six years now.

“hello, mr. jung,” you smiled politely as he was let inside the living room by juyun.

“oh hey, you must be y/n. it’s great to finally meet you,” he smiled back with the same fervour.

“and your wife...?” you trailed off, unsure. as far as you remember, yoongi did mention that all his friends were married.

“ah, dany is at home with our son. he is only five months old, so she doesn’t really leave the house much.”

“oh! congratulations on the baby boy.”

“yeah,” hoseok nodded awkwardly as the conversation turned silent, “well, i hope you don’t mind that i am here early. i came here directly from work. had i gone back home, i would have just fallen asleep.”

you nodded at that, but before you could reply, yoongi came down from his bedroom. juyun must have informed him that hoseok was here.

“i’ll take it from here,” yoongi’s hand brushed against the small of your back as he smiled at hoseok, “let’s talk in my study till the rest of the party arrives.”

hoseok nodded, and both the men left for yoongi’s study room. you kept standing there, thinking about the way he left, but his touch lingered on your skin through the fabric of your black a-line dress. it burned through your being, and you craved it more, just like you do every night when he scoots a little bit too close.

you must have been standing there for a few minutes because the next thing you heard was the honk of a car pulling up in the driveaway.

yes, more guests. your hands instinctively straightened your wrinkle-free dress to greet the guests.

“ah, you,” your lips broke into a rhetoric smile when your eyes spotted jeon jeongguk.

jeongguk shrugged, smiling back, “hello, miss.”

“do you guys know each other?” a soft female voice from behind him caused you to crane your neck sideways till the figure came out in front.

jeongguk turned to his wife, “know? yoongi hyung met her cause of me! it’s a shame they did not call me to the wedding.”

“really? that’s nice,” the girl turned to you, a smile on her face, “i am azumi, jeongguk’s wife.”

“where’s hyung?” jeongguk asked after taking a look around.

“he’s in the study with mr. jung,” you informed him.

“sweet. i believe you ladies would certainly find something to talk about,” he smiled at his wife before walking away.

you just stared at azumi, not knowing what to say or do. you have spent most of your adult life working, taking care of your father and then locking yourself up in your room. that was your ‘me’ time. socialising, going out, having friends is not something you are good at, even by a tiny bit.

“can.. we sit?” azumi asked, gesturing at the couch.

“a-o-of course! sorry, my bad. i didn’t ask you to even sit.”

“it’s fine. happens to the best of us, don’t worry. you’ve got this,” azumi smiled, grabbing your hand as she walked to the couch and sat down with you beside her.

you felt relieved. you are not an anti-social person. you just need the proper nudge to open up and talk.

azumi almost had the opposite personality as you. she was charming, bubbly and knew her way around words. it almost seems like a cruel joke that her husband is jeon jeongguk. well, she seemed clearly ignorant of the exploits of his corruption. that much was clear.

“oh and then tanaz and i we- wait, do you know tanaz?” azumi asked in the middle of telling you about her university life.

you shook your head a no, “i’m afraid not.”

“don’t worry! you’ll know when they come over. she’s my best friend. we’ve known each other since we were kids.”

your fingers softly played with each other, your clasped hands lying in your lap, “that must be nice.”

“yeah, it is. you must already know inaya, at least?”

“i have met her, but we haven’t talked much, really.”

“oh...” azumi sighed. she could easily sense that this was all new to you, and she has been trying to make you loosen up, but so far, it has not worked well, “is there anyone coming tonight that you know?”

“yeah! rei is coming, she’s my friend. not exactly my friend, more like my little sister, but i’ve known her since school!” you beamed almost, happy that you also have someone in your life that you have known for a while. life is not that bad. you have some aspects like most normal people, as well. and knowing that, just that fact gave you satisfaction at the moment.

azumi grinned at your enthusiasm. yes, it finally worked!

around twenty minutes later, rei finally came, and so did inaya and seokjin.

“you’re late, miss,” you huffed as rei walked to you, giving you a brief hug.

“i know, i know, i wanted to get something for you, but nothing just seemed right.”

“what? no! you didn’t have to.”

“psst, not taking a no. here,” she handed you a gift-wrapped packet.

“i’ll check it later.”

“no! open it now. i want to see if you like it,” she urged you till you finally gave in and took off the wrapping paper to reveal a picture frame. it contained an old picture of you with rei, back from high school. the photo was taken on sports day, dressed in matching uniforms and cute braided pigtails. you were pinching rei’s cheeks, who was trying to escape your hold.

“i think i am the only one who has a copy. so, i want you to have it,” rei smiled eagerly, waiting for your reaction, but you kept staring at the picture, your eyes turning glassy.

“i love it. thank you. thank you so much,” you sniffled once, soaking your tears back in before putting up the frame on top of the fireplace, “and this is...?” you gestured towards the male who had accompanied rei and was now talking with seokjin. the two men had struck up quite a conversation.

“that’s um, jimin-ssi,” rei turned towards the jimin-person who noticed you both staring at him, so he flashed you both a toothy smile causing you to smile back in return.

“boyfriend?” you grinned, turning back to rei.

“uhh, we got married last month.”

“wait a second, you got married? what?”

“it’s a long story,” rei mumbled, her gaze towards azumi, “i’ll tell you later.”

you followed her gaze and nodded, “right. come here, this is azumi, and you surely remember inaya.”

rei nodded before joining the girls. another five-six minutes and taehyung and his wife, tanaz, arrived. the men came out to the living room as well, and yoongi introduced you to all of them one by one while you introduced jimin to them.

late into the party after concluding dinner, you turned around yourself. everyone seemed to be having a good time. it made you genuinely smile. after months, you had something to do, arrange a party you had never done before. one-night yoongi came back and informed you that the party was going to be on friday night. that was on a wednesday, so basically you had two days to arrange everything. juyun was glad to help, but she offered you took the lead and asked you to manage everything before asking for her help. at first, it terrified you because you did not want to screw up, not at your first gathering, but it was thrilling, too. you went shopping for hours, took hours to finalise the dishes, the drinks, the décor, everything. and to see it all come together nicely, your smile only grew fonder.

“so, why do i get a vibe that you guys don’t like jeongguk?” azumi asked suddenly, making all of you quiet down.

the men were sitting separately on the other side of the room, drinking and smoking. they had a completely different conversation going on, more like they were in their own world.

tanaz was the one who broke the silence, “’cause he’s an asshole.”

“hey, that’s rude!” azumi smacked tanaz’s arm lightly in mock retaliation.

while they laughed it out, inaya and you just exchanged the ‘who’s gonna tell her’ look between each other. seems like no one really liked jeongguk.

“what? he’s a jerk, and so is dr taehyung,” tanaz scoffed, finishing her wine in a gulp. there was a certain tinge of anger laced with her voice when she enunciated the doctor.

inaya cringed at it, “aria eonnie is testimony to that.”

tanaz chuckled, “she sure is.”

azumi kept quiet at the comment, choosing not to go into further details. you certainly did not know any of them enough to contribute to the conversation. while rei quietly observed the girls, her gaze moving back and forth between them like a bobblehead.

tanaz stood up to refill her glass, “rei is awfully quiet tonight,” she poured some more of the red fluid into her wineglass.

“oh, this is all new to me. i am still processing it in,” rei smiled sheepishly, “you guys seem very close, i mean from the way you are bitching about your husbands.”

“bitching? if only,” azumi let a bitter laugh.

rei turned to you first, to which you only gave a shrug, so she continued, “am i missing something?”

“oh no, you are fine, darling. ignore us,” tanaz tutted back to resume her place, “tell us about yourself. what do you do?”

“i am an advocate. i work in yoongi sir’s firm.”

“that’s amazing! where did you meet that charming devil?” azumi asked, her eyes gesturing to where jimin was sitting, talking with jeongguk.

“at work..” rei trailed off.

“really? i thought you said he was a dance teacher?” you inquired further.

“he is. he is a choreographer and works mainly in the k-industry, but we met at work. it’s a long story really,” rei dismissed your queries and chugged down her wine.

“if you don’t mind my asking, how old are you? you look quite young,” azumi asked after rei refilled her glass.

rei turned to her, “i can say the same, really. you hardly look older than me. if you don’t mind my asking, how old are you?”

azumi laughed at rei’s defensive tone, “wah, forgot you are a lawyer for a second. it’s not an interrogation. we are all friends only.”

rei joined her and laughed too, “i’m just kidding. i’m twenty-two.”

“oh,” tanaz paused and turned to inaya, “turns out we have another member joining the maknae club.”

“welcome to the club,” inaya clinked her wine-glass against rei’s at that but kept the glass away, not taking a sip.

“tell us about your married life,” tanaz asked further. rei was a new target, and the girls indeed loved hassling her. it was fun to watch rei getting flustered, so you allowed yourself to indulge as well instead of saving her, like rei wanted, evident from her pleading eyes every time she looked at you. she was indeed not the extrovert of the bunch.

“it’s certainly a new experience,” rei let a soft sigh.

“yes, the honeymoon phase. it’ll fade away soon, believe me. ask inaya, she’s been doing this for four years,” azumi was the one to reply this time.

inaya did not register the statement as her eyes were stuck at her husband’s figure.

“inaya?” azumi touched inaya’s hand, causing the latter to flinch as she was brought out of her thoughts.

“i’m sorry. what’d i miss?” her eyes travelled between all of you ladies.

“nothing. tell us what’s going on with you,” this time, it was tanaz again who spoke.

“the usual, really,” inaya exhaled. it was more a mumble. her wine-glass went untouched, and when you brought that up, inaya seemed visibly dishevelled, “i can-can’t drink.”

“is everything alright?” you turned to her, worried this time.

inaya’s gaze moved towards her husband first, then to tanaz, who was quick to her rescue.

“she can’t drink cause of a medical condition.”

although the hesitancy in their voices indicated something more, it was not your place to pry further, so you left the topic alone.

the night grew, and the clock struck half-past ten. it was azumi who stood up first and made her way to her husband.

she tapped on his shoulder, “we should get going. you’ve duty in the morning.”

jeongguk sighed, taking one last drag from the cigar before handing it over to hoseok, “yes, baby,” he turned to the men, standing up, “unlike you rich pricks, i have work in the morning.”

“mm, officer. thank you for your service,” seokjin mocked, gaining a laugh from the rest of them.

jeongguk chuckled, wearing his jacket, the right sleeve of which he kept getting wrong till azumi held it up for him to slide his right arm in.

you watched the couples quietly, as one by one, all of them took their leave after bidding you and your husband a goodnight. rei had stayed back to help you clean up till you literally had to scold her that you could handle it.

“she never takes no for an answer,” jimin spoke, his first words to you that night.

“yeah, she’s always been like that. take good care of her. she only has you.”

“oh my god, that’s so embarrassing,” rei groaned, rolling her eyes.

it felt like you guys were back in high school, making you giggle at her tone as you hit her head, “shut up. i have lived one year more than you. that’s 365 days more. eonnie knows better.”

rei was leaning against jimin’s figure, holding on to his arm, tired from the long day, but she straightened her back the moment yoongi walked in after seeing off the guests and stood by your side, “thank you for having us, sir.”

“not at all, rei. thanks for coming over. you too, mr. park.”

jimin nodded, shaking his hand before they set on their way as well.

you watched from the front door as jimin and rei got in their car and drove out of the porch. you walked back inside, closing and locking the door behind you.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

rei kept staring at jimin, who drove carefully, he was not drunk out of his senses but enough to make him tipsy.

jimin caught her constant stare, “what?”

“you smoked. i have never seen you smoke.”

“i don’t. that was just a cigar,” he shrugged.

“fine. did you have a good time?”

jimin nodded, changing gears after the signal turned green.

“see! and you thought you would be bored alone.”

“i was able to make friends, luckily that’s all. oh, by the way, i will be going out with jeongguk tomorrow for some drinks.”

“really? of all the people, you chose to be friends with that guy?”

“what do you mean?”

“i don’t like his vibe, i don’t know. there was also a weird tension between the ladies regarding jeongguk and taehyung,” rei shrugged, “it was all peculiar.”

“doll, you are overthinking. i will also be meeting with seokjin hyung about some work.”

rei let a soft sigh in reply before turning her gaze out the window, watching the tall buildings fly by in a blurry haze.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

it has been a while since the couples left. you retired to your room after cleaning up. a knock came and the door opened while you were in the middle of changing out of your dress.

“hey, just wanted to than- fuck, i am sorry,” yoongi closed his eyes, halfway inside the room.

“did something happen?” you asked, your hands pulling up your shorts in a second. you were clad in a t-shirt.

“no, i came to thank you.”

“you can look. it’s fine.”

yoongi peeped one eye open before blinking both of them open, “thanks for arranging the party. everyone had a good time.”

you nodded, noticing his stumbling gait, “you’re going to trip over that corner,” you grabbed his hand in a plea to sit him on the bed.

under the spell of alcohol, yoongi lost his balance and held on to your arms. you both stayed frozen at the moment. yoongi sitting at the edge of the bed, and you standing between his legs, his hands holding your arms. it did not matter how it happened, but the only thing your mind registered was yoongi’s lips on yours. you could taste the alcohol and cigar on his tongue, but it did not really matter, not when this was the first time kissing your husband. your arms lying by your side bent at the joints and raised up to touch his hair. his hands let you as you run your fingers through his hair.

yoongi pulled away and touched the side of your face with his slightly raised hand, “i wanna see your tits,” he mused lazily.

you batted your eyelashes, oh so lustily, before lifting your arms over your head to swiftly get rid of your t-shirt, which you had just adorned a few moments ago. your breasts hung inside one of your standard bralettes, and you saw yoongi’s hand extending towards your chest before it stopped mid-way, abruptly.

“how old are you, again?” he blinked before focusing his gaze back at your face.

“twenty-three,” you replied, your fingers playing with themselves enclosed within your clasped hands resting at the small of your back.

“fuck,” yoongi muttered a curse before retracting from your figure, “you are a fucking kid. do you know old i am? i am thirty-three. this is wrong,” he shook his head as if trying to break his daze from the alcoholic riddle.

before you could complain, he removed himself from your room at once and stumbled his way to his bedroom.

your hands unclasped and rattled with the sipper bottle placed on the nightstand for a countable few moments before you tipped it over in annoyance. this is okay. you can get past this. breathing sharply, you gathered the discarded t-shirt from the floor and made your way to the bed, sitting down with the fabric in your lap.

maybe it is not okay, after all. how dare this atrocious and scandalous man marry you in a frenzy and then keep you locked away without so much as a bit of sexual relief. all these months, he would not even look at you, and now that he has, he sees you as a literal child. so he is a bit older than you? he should have thought of that beforehand. you did not ask for any of this, and he does not get to deny you anymore, not after the way he literally runs his devilish tongue over his lips. he can run them over yours. it is not really that difficult, not when you are entirely willing to hold your panties out of the way to give him better leverage.

balling up the t-shirt, you threw it at the couch before setting out towards your lawfully-wedded husband’s bedroom. you opened the door with a single push of your hand in the most dramatic way possible. upon entering, you noticed yoongi splayed out on the bed, still clad in his work clothes, the back of his dominant hand resting over his closed eyes, obscuring his vision. he did not bother to look up as he knew it was probably just you coming over to sleep on his bed.

he is used to it now, but what he is not used to at all is the feeling of your unfamiliar lower figure settling around his crotch area. tearing away the hand from his eyes, he looked at you in shock only to find you making yourself comfortable on his reclined lap.

“the fuck is this, now?” he asked in apparent distaste.

too bad cause you are not going to have any of it, “i am not a minor, you know, and i am way over the legal age to drink alcohol even.”

“doesn’t change anything. i can’t do it—” his words were snatched right out of his mouth when he felt your hips moving, causing lewd friction between your heat and his crotch, “no no no,” he placed his hands on your hips in a plea to stop your movements, but you continued on. your eyes not breaking contact for a single moment, not even to blink.

“go ahead, stop me,” you shrugged nonchalantly, your heat hanging on to the zipper of his trousers, your hips still moving in a rhythm.

yoongi’s breathing went back to its average pace as he allowed himself to lay back down in the fortress of pillows, his eyes maintaining the contact that yours have established.

your hands lying by your side, now rested flat atop his chest, feeling every breath of his rumble inside the rib cage.

due to the lack of much-needed friction, you pushed aside the triangular patch of your shorts that barely covered the swell of your ass and placed your bare heat on top of his fully-clothed groin, soiling it a tad bit with your pre-lubrication.

“no panties, huh? did you want me to come and fuck you into the mattress?” yoongi finally asked when he felt your arousal forming a patch on the fabric of his trousers.

you shrugged, “i practically sleep naked every night. not that you would know—”

“i know,” he seethed this time, getting a hold of your wrists resting on his chest, “when you grind that sinful ass against my fucking dick in your sleep, i know, little one. i know.”

you did not mean to blush at his words, but you were practically gushing, glowing red all over when yoongi’s hands beckoned you closer to him.

“you don’t get to be shy. not now,” he tutted softly, his hands letting go of your wrists and grabbing onto each of your breasts. oh, how yoongi has restrained himself night after night from touching you, but he knew you were sleeping, and he did not want to risk doing the wrong thing, not when he did not know if you wanted it.

he kneaded your breasts from over the bralette that you were still adorning, “get rid of it.”

it was barely a whisper, but he did not need to repeat himself as you sprinted to action and completely unclothed your upper body.

yoongi’s hands now latched onto the globes of flesh, finally touching the soft skin. his touch was careful, needy, but gentle.

very unlike you, who was growing visibly impatient. you needed to have something stuffed deep inside you, preferably his dick, or else you would have to resort to touching yourself.

however, the extreme measures did not need to be acted upon as yoongi let go of your breasts and tapped on the side of your thigh, “c’mere.”

“what do you mean?” you shot him a confused look.

yoongi chose to keep quiet and, instead, locked his arms around your thighs, pulling your figure forwards.

you crawled up his chest hesitantly until your heat was, for all intents and purposes, right over his face.

“let it down,” yoongi tapped your thigh again.

you still held onto your weight and kept biting your lip, unsure.

“i won’t keep waiting forever, little one. i am trying to give you the release that you need, but if you hold back, there’s not much i can help with,” your husband spoke in his usual tone this time, his breath sending chills right up your spine.

you were slowly letting go of your weight, but yoongi fast-tracked the process by yanking your waist down till your heat was within the range of his tongue. his fingers manoeuvred the fabric of the shorts out of his way, his eyes stuck at your hardened nub.

a squeal left your lips when his tongue darted out and touched your lower lips. the soft muscle was warm, but it felt ice-cold compared to your heat, causing you to shiver. the pointed tip of his tongue was not as gentle as his hands were as it prodded inside, inching past the outer lips of your labia. your hands rested against the headboard of the bed to support your figure as his tongue flicked the hardened nub. it did not take long to feel the moistened muscle lick your inner lips.

“oh—” you verbally let an exhale at the sensation, feeling short bursts of electricity in your pelvic region.

your intimate smell masked the air paired with the priceless view at your crotch from yoongi’s angle — the way your fleshy lips invited him in, the tender skin of your thighs, the way your arousal coated his tongue. he licked it all up and finally dived in to enjoy his five-star main course meal. yoongi tried his best to not use his hands and entice you with his tongue alone, but he had to use his fingers to hold your pussy lips apart. the further apart he held them, the deeper his tongue went, filling up your entrance. the further up his tongue reached, the closer he got to tasting your arousal. he brought his free hand over your clit, getting a hold of your sensitive nub. allowing his fingernails to graze against your skin, resulting in you squirming with each graze before he circled his thumb around the nub, applying pressure and gently massaging it in a circular motion. all the while, his tongue was lapping up your arousal. not letting you one moment breathe.

your hands clutched the headboard, the calf muscles straining from desperately trying to stay still but failing as they started shaking when his lips wrapped themselves around your labia and sucked on your slit.

yoongi let a slight slap on your inner thigh, “stay still, little one,” his voice was a mumble against your clit.

you whimpered at the vibration, your thighs inching closer towards his mouth, wanting to restore the earlier contact. yoongi softly chuckled at your actions before thrusting his tongue up your slit, holding your thighs apart. his tongue went in and out of your slit, licking a stripe up each time. the muscle circled the perimeter of the inner lips and started sucking relentlessly.

with the amount of pleasure and electricity pulsing through your veins, you did not even feel your orgasm ripping through. your juices had hardly even made their way out before yoongi’s tongue lapped them up and licked it all up. even that last drop which had slithered out onto your outer labia lips.

his tongue had you singing all sorts of songs — first, you started out with cursing out to your heart’s content when he nipped around your clit, giving you butterflies, then all that left your lips were soundless gasps and moans. only air escaped your lips while yoongi’s tongue thrust in and out of you. by the time you came, and he started licking clean every surface, your airy moans had reduced to downright whimpers similar to a mewling cat. your legs were shaking, one of your hands gripping the headboard while the other grabbing firmly onto his hair, your head resting against the wall — face first.

after yoongi made sure that he had not left out a single drop of your love juice, he finally let go of your thighs that he had locked between his arms to stop you from squirming away. the skin of your thighs where he held you down stretched after being released, and as the fresh air from the air conditioner touched the skin, it felt tickly even. his fingers imprints were growing clearly visible on your skin, including the mark from the metal of his wedding band. in a plea to catch your breath and reduce the strain of your calf muscles, you rested your legs carefully against the mattress, allowing your lower body to sit down, slow hands massaging the knees when the mattress behind you shifted.

yoongi had sat up, and while you recovered, he got rid of his suit blazer. The matching trousers followed next. his knees delved into the mattress as he unbuttoned his shirt when you turned back to him. grinning as your eyes took in the new expanse of untouched skin, you advanced towards him. your sneaky fingers pushing down the bands on either side of his underwear to unsheathe his hard length.

“i would like to return the favour,” you mused, palming his length and opening your mouth to take him in, but yoongi stopped you, and his hands pulled you up.

“i can see through your tactics,” there was a smug smile on his lips, “i know you are trying to rest up while sucking my dick, but there’s no time for that. i am nothing if not a man of his word so let me fuck your cute cunt into the mattress.”

his skilful hands wrestled you around. the moment you gained some stability in the new position, he yanked your hips closer towards his figure, lining up the tip of his length with your entrance.

“wait, wait, let me at least catch my brea —” your words turned into a low growl as his length dipped inside after catching onto some of your residual arousal.

there you go putting your all-time chartbuster songs on repeat. the sacrilegious litany of curses, the airy moans, the whimpers. yoongi really had you dicked down deep into the mattress, singing songs for him.

the stutter in his thrusts as he neared his high was unmistakable. his hips drawled out his plunges, forcing the intrusive length even deeper inside you with full force and boy, did you feel that. your head hit the pillow lying against the headboard with each of his drawn-out thrusts, his hands on your hips remained the only constraint keeping you firmly planted around his length.

“i’ll come again if you keep doing that,” your voice got muffled as your face rested on the pillow, your body impatiently waiting for his next thrust.

you felt yoongi lowering himself, his lips sneaking up near your left ear, his breath making even the micro-hair strands on the back of your ear stand up, “and who stopped you, little one?”

his hips snapped forward, sending your bundle of nerves into overdrive, extricating the loudest moan from you that the four walls have been witness to this night insofar.

“nggh —” you came for the second time, your hot cavern sucking in his length, the constricting walls taking the shape of his length.

yoongi stood straight on his knees, watching your juices coat his length as they leaked out. he pulled his length out a bit, watching the string of cum stuck to his tip only to drive it in you again. a cry left your lips, your walls closing in against his length, pushing him closer to his high. one last thrust inside your deep walls and yoongi came undone on your lower back.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

after wiping away his cum from your back, yoongi tossed the soiled tissue into the trash can before lying down on the bed with a long exhale. you gathered your hair to the side and carefully laid your head down on yoongi’s chest, testing the water before getting comfortable. he did not object, so you snuggled closer, watching his chest rise up with each breath. coming down from your high, the air felt colder, and you wanted yoongi to wrap his arm around you, but he did not. instead, he brought out a cigarette from the packet. holding the butt between his lips, his hands traced for the lighter till he realized it was placed on the nightstand.

yoongi raised his upper body, while in the process, removing your head from his chest as he reached over the bed to grab the black lighter. it had a red dragon engraved on the side with some phrases written in japanese. he flicked the lighter on and lit up his cigarette, but his phone rang before he could lay back down. after receiving the call, he started talking, releasing deep clouds of smoke into the air, his head resting on the headboard.

“i am sorry for calling so late, sir. i left messages on your cell, but there was no reply, and i need to talk about tomorrow’s case.”

“yeah, i was busy. which judge is presiding over the matter?” yoongi asked, putting the phone on speaker and keeping it on his chest as he reached over the bed again to dust off the residual ash from the cigarette into the ashtray.

“judge chwe,” a male voice replied from the other side.

you quietly watched the whole ordeal, and it did not fail to catch your eye that he was not paying you any attention all over again. as if the pair of you did not just have sex. you let your finger draw lazy figures on his chest, not minding the conversation.

“fuck, really? he rejects all anti-bail pleas.”

“i know.”

“we have to bring up other points then. the interim period for arrest is over. guy’s been in jail for too long.”

“i have been working on the draft.”

“good, mail it to me,” yoongi replied and went to take another drag from the cigarette when his eyes went wide as you clicked on the red button on the screen, “what the fuck? why did you cut the call?”

you were taken aback by the change in his voice; it was laced with annoyance and pure anger than his previous nonchalant one, “i-i am sorry. you, um, wanna do it again?” you asked, trying to dissipate the air, your hand slowly travelling down towards his length but he stopped you.

“later. i have work,” yoongi replied monotonously, pushing the blanket over as he got out of bed. he put on a pair of boxers before redialling the number, making his way out of the bedroom.

prior to the bedroom door closing behind, he peeked behind once, “get some sleep. i’ll be late.” and he was gone, just like that. while you lay in the bed like a discarded one-night stand. he might as well have left you a tip and called you a prostitute.

tears pricked at your lower eyelids. unbeknownst, you were tearing up. you hid your face in the pillow in an attempt to stop yourself from crying. he did promise you a loveless marriage — expecting anything more is naivety on your part. accepting that this is the closest he will come to showing you any intimate decency, you quietly went to sleep.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

the following day, your eyes fluttered open to your husband’s face mere inches from yours. his lips were slightly parted, his upper body was bare, and you guessed just as much for his lower body while you were stark naked, as well, under the modesty of the covers.

you let out a breathe you did not quite realize you were holding, your chest slowly heaving down. you let your fingers crawl up to the section of hair that had fallen forwards and was now shadowing his left eye. sweeping it away, you combed it gently with your fingers, setting it back with the rest of his hair.

now that you think about it, this is probably the first time you are seeing your husband from this close up. he looked different; he did not look so cold, so distant. he looked — normal. a living, breathing human just like everybody else. his eyes did not seem so cruel. instead, they looked peaceful, the brow line on his forehead; relaxed. he was sleeping on his stomach, his head resting sideways on the pillow — facing you.

you must have been deep in sleep when he came back to bed because you did not feel him crawling into bed beside you. just like every morning, you did not expect to find him beside you, much less sleeping beside you.

watching him, in the rawest version of himself, weirdly felt wrong. as if it was a crime to see through the layers he puts up. it felt illegal, yet you kept staring at him, breathing in his features.

there was a certain air of intimacy masking the situation. you both laid naked under the covers after a night of fervour love-making. he certainly knew how to please a woman, yet you have never caught him staring at anyone. his eyes feel dull at times, too burdened by his workload, constantly under stress. yet when he looked at you last night, his eyes were anything but dull. there was a spark that came and went with the beginning and conclusion of the physical act.

you wanted the moment to last forever, but soon yoongi’s eyes opened. his hands felt around the bed till it located his phone, which he brought in front of his face. his eyes squinted as the brightness through the screen increased to let the face recognition run. his phone unlocked, and yoongi swiftly went through the notifications before keeping his phone down. at his wordless series of actions, you had reclused into yourself, your hands clutching the edge of the covers close to your chest. holding on to the last piece of modesty, although you were not so shy the previous night. it must have been something in the wine, you are not this outright, or maybe it was something in your quiet husband that prompted you to take the drastic step – to bare your body to him.

“don’t do that. makes me feel like a pervert,” yoongi grumbled in his morning voice, causing you to establish eye contact with him.

“stop thinking like that.”

“i’m trying, but the situation keeps feeling wrong. you’re too young.”

your expressions turned into a scowl. what the hell is that supposed to mean now?

“as far as i remember, you claimed to know everything about me. you are the one that proposed the marriage contract. did it not strike you then?”

yoongi sighed, “you remember the circumstances leading to that very well.”

“so what? what am i supposed to do now? i sit around this house all day, alone, with nothing to do.”

yoongi sat up, stretching his rested muscles, “we will have this talk later on. i need to leave for work now.”

“you always do,” you did not mean to blurt that out, yet they left your lips like thorns aimed at him. you sat up too.

yoongi chose not to reply and got out of bed. he sauntered to the attached washroom, smearing a blob of toothpaste on the bristles of the toothbrush before walking out. his one hand laid inside the pocket of his boxer shorts while the other guided the brush against his teeth.

the air was warm. it smelled like last night’s sex amidst yoongi’s cologne. it had a powerful domestic feeling attached to it, and you hated it. you hated it with your whole being because you know yoongi would snatch it away any moment when he deems fit. he has done it countless times before, and he would do it again. he is cold, distant, and that is the truth.

annoyed, you moved towards the edge of the bed, “hand me my bra.”

“i literally saw you naked last night,” yoongi mentioned before leaning down and grabbing the piece of fabric lying unceremoniously on the floor before handing it to you.

“turn around,” you kept holding the covers near your chest till he indulged you and turned around. you wore the bralette and grabbed your shorts, adorning them right after.

yoongi went to spit out the foam in the washbasin. by the time he came back to the room after freshening up, you had left.

you did not mean to leave that way or fight with him first thing in the morning, but he never refutes your action, never stops you or even says anything to make you feel like he cares. the warmth his physical body offers falls short in front of the icy emotional show he puts up. he could have come after you, right? he could have talked to you further, maybe help dispel whatever hesitations you had, help you see him in a better light, but he did not. he did not even pay it another mind as he continued with his morning routine.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

that night, you slept in the guest room. after the morning tiff, you had no further interactions with yoongi. he was gone for the day, and you had retired to the guest room by the time you heard his car pulling up on the porch. you checked the clock when your sleep was interrupted by the vibrations of his car wheels on the pathway. it was almost midnight. you kept lying in the dark, listening to the car door opening and then closing shortly, indicating yoongi’s descend from the vehicle. there was the jingle of the keys, and the front door opened and closed after yoongi walked in. you could hear his soft footsteps till he entered his room. of course, how dare you expect that he would come to talk to you or even want to see you. disappointed by your own expectations, you went back to sleep.

meanwhile, yoongi frowned when he walked into his room because it was empty. it was cold like every other night when you do not sleep in his room. it was a long and tiring day. he could really do with some cuddling or just your warmth against him. he stepped out of his shoes, took off his blazer and directly went to bed.

sniffing around the pillow cover, he noted the lingering fruity smell. yoongi moved back and realized he was sleeping on your pillow. it smelled like you, your shampoo, your scent. juyun must have kept it on his side after fixing the bed like she does every morning after yoongi leaves for work. however, he could not complain as he fell asleep holding it close.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

yoongi woke up right in the middle of deep sleep. it felt like he was forced awake, his consciousness grabbing at that he was just in his room, lying in his bed. something felt like it was poking at his thigh. he touched his pocket, his phone was still inside, and given the awkward position, its metal was poking uncomfortably. yoongi woke up fully on remembering that he slept in his work clothes, no wonder he woke up halfway through the minimum hours of sleep he gets. changing into his pyjamas, he tried to fall back asleep but failed. after forty-five minutes of fruitless efforts, he gave up. the clock read five thirty-five when his stomach made a loud grumble, the hunger clawing against the walls of his stomach lining, making its existence known.

right. he went to sleep without dinner. throwing on a warm pullover, yoongi made his way downstairs to the kitchen. he found eggs in the fridge and noticed some packets of ramyeon lying around the kitchen counter. juyun does not buy readymade food, so it must have been your doing. initially, yoongi thought of making some toast and eggs. still, the red colour of the shin ramyeon packet just pulled him in closer till he found himself cutting it open, pouring the contents of the flavour sachets into a pot of boiling water.

it has probably been a decade since he last cooked ramyeon, and the last time must have been when he was doing his bachelors and used to live in a dorm with his roommate yoo kihyun. he should probably call kihyun sometime. it has been so long.

it hardly took ten minutes to cook ramyeon with the vegetables, meat and eggs just like he likes it. turning the stove off, yoongi opened one of the cabinets to grab a bowl when, due to the slip of hand, another piece of utensil fell on the floor.

you know that feeling when you drop a utensil in the middle of the night, and it just would not stop bouncing against the floor, making the loudest possible noise all along? yeah, that is precisely what happened to yoongi at the moment.

grabbing the utensil, he put it back from where it fell, but it was too late. you were already awake and had made your way downstairs to the kitchen, thinking someone had broken in.

“yoongi?” you rubbed your sleepy eyes, your hair messy and awry.

“yeah, it’s just me. sorry about that. i was hungry,” yoongi watched you.

“what’s the time? are you in a hurry for work?” you asked, still confused. why is he cooking? where is juyun? why hasn’t she prepared breakfast yet?

“it’s five-fifty on a sunday morning, little one. no work,” he informed you, pouring the content of the pot into two bowls.

“oh, okay. enjoy,” you yawned and meant to walk away.

“do you want some ramyeon? i accidentally made too much,” yoongi’s voice caused you to stop in your tracks as he placed the pair of bowls on the countertop.

you gazed at his face first. is this your husband, min yoongi, or did some burglar break-in? but why would a burglar cook ramyeon in the kitchen?

you hesitantly walked to the countertop, pulling out a barstool and sitting atop it, “it surely smells enticing. looks like you cooked all the four packets.”

“yeah, i did not realize it until pouring in the last packet. back in college, i was in charge of cooking ramyeon, and kihyun and i had quite the appetite.”

“kihyun?” you questioned, grabbing a pair of the chopsticks.

“my dorm roommate,” yoongi replied, taking the first bite.

“oh. must be nice,” you took a bite too, almost stopping to admire the unique taste.

“yeah, we used to sneak out all the time,” he chuckled softly, his eyes sparkly from reminiscing some scene as you both continued eating.

“what else did you guys used to do?”

“all sorts of things, really. sneaking out, causing trouble, blasting fireworks right outside the dean’s office, playing as each other’s wingman in clubs, sneaking in alcohol and cigarettes.”

“he is a lawyer, too?”

“no, he was a business major. he won the young entrepreneur award, too.”

“are you guys not friends anymore?”

“mm, we are. just not much in contact. i went to the UK for my masters, he stayed back to build his empire. when i came back, i was too focussed on establishing a career. never really took a break.”

“do you want to?”

“what?” yoongi slurped on his noodles.

“do you want to take a break?” you reiterated before grabbing a spoon to drink the soup.

“i don’t know. i might. do you want me to take a break?”

you almost choked at his words, “wh-why does it matter what i want?”

“itmatterstome,” yoongi spoke too swiftly, but you caught each word.

you kept staring at him, dumbfounded. if this is not a burglar, are you perhaps dreaming by any chance?

“c’mere,” yoongi motioned for you to come closer, and your body moved towards him just as his words beckoned as if moving along the sound of a pied piper.

you walked to him, stopping in between his legs which closed around you. his hands snaked around your waist before he raised a hand to smoothen down your hair, “you look so sleepy.”

“right? i must be dreaming!” you replied when you felt his lips on yours. you kissed back, thinking it was definitely a dream.

soon enough, there was a gasp causing you both to pull back at the sudden noise.

juyun trained her eyes at her feet, quick to apologise for the interruption, “i am sorry, sir. i was not expecting you here.” it was six-thirty. like routine clockwork every morning, juyun came to the main compound to start the breakfast preparations like she has over the past decade. she seriously did not expect to see her master and mistress kissing in the kitchen, of all places.

a shy blush appeared on the apple of your cheeks, your fingers resting against his pullover clutched onto the fabric. it was real, he talked to you, and he kissed you.

“it’s alright. we’ll let you get to work,” yoongi said before getting off the barstool, his hand grabbing yours as he walked out with you on his tow. you let him lead the way; you would let him lead you to hell itself if it meant he would talk to you, treat you like a human being, treat you like a husband treats his wife.

february, 2021:

it surprises you — how much yoongi and you have progressed as a couple. he is still cold, prioritises work over you, and hardly gives you any time, but it is genuine and honest when he does. at night when he comes to bed to you, he is yours. if you try slyly, you sometimes can extricate details about his life. his exterior is still just as hard, but when he enters the bed, that piece of furniture becomes a pure and sacred shrine where only you and he exist. it sounds more romantic than it actually is in reality. there is no pillow talk with him, no stolen glances, no soft gazes, just the raw version of him. he is not a man of a lot of words, even less so during sex, but he maintains the eye contact, and you know his eyes are earnest, at the very least.

more often than not, you have to try in various ways to know more about him because he can always call your bluff. well, that is what he does for a living, and he is good at it. he finds it fascinating that you always put in so much effort to get to know him better when he is nothing but a stranger that forced you to marry him on a whim. he had promised you a loveless marriage, and he has kept his end of the bargain, but he admires your rigour for not giving up on him.

unbeknownst to him, you only take an interest in his life because there is not much going on for you. you are not in love with the man you gladly sleep with, far from it. you still harbour the same feelings of disdain that had arisen during the whole testimony business. he is willingly protecting his friends who are openly indulging in criminal activities. how do you love a person like that? sure you allow yourself to submit in the physicality of it, allow him to touch your body, every crook and crevice, allow him to show you stars when he has you cumming just with his tongue, but that is it. you treat the bed as the shrine as well. whatever happens between you two stays there.

you had duly noted that yoongi only talked about his life before his parents passed away. he never touches upon the topic, nor does anything ever slip from his mouth. he carefully chooses his words and thinks things through before letting you in. so far, he has told you about his high school, college and then his UK experience. he talks about his family but only in traces. you do not mind it, as long as he talks to you and not just treats you like a wallflower.

life has been slow-moving, quiet, calm and primarily low-key, but then came the news that you had been dreading so far. one fine morning, your father passed away. his passing was peaceful at the very least, and all you did was stand quietly throughout the entirety of the funeral. the girls had offered to provide you with some moral support, but you refused them all. you only allowed rei to be there and the pastor who performed the last rites. you kept staring at the distance while the pastor narrated some verses about repentance and salvation — you could not care less.

“hey, do you have anything for the eulogy?” rei touched your arm to catch your attention.

you flinched at the touch and turned to her, “no,” shaking your head, you turned back to stare into the distance, albeit pointlessly.

the ceremony concluded within an hour, and yoongi was the one who took care of all technical details, and the rest was handled by rei.

“can you take her home? i need to take care of some final details,” yoongi asked rei, who nodded at once and escorted you to the vehicle, which took you both home.

“come here. you need to eat,” rei dragged your autopilot self inside the house by the elbow.

“um, ma’am, can eonnie have something to eat?” rei asked juyun.

“of course, miss,” juyun was quick to bring out food to the dining table.

prompted by rei, you sat down but refused to eat anything.

“don’t bother. thanks for helping, i will be fine.”

“you want me to leave you alone?” rei turned to you after pouring out a glass of water.

“if you don’t mind, yes.”

“i’ll get out of your hair. just take care of yourself. alright?”

you nodded as rei gathered her keys and wallet before leaving you alone.

once you heard the front door closing behind her, you left the dining hall and headed straight for the guest room, although, these days, you stay in yoongi’s bedroom.

about an hour later, the door to the guest room opened, “what are you doing here, little one?” yoongi’s voice was the softest that you have ever heard.

“thank you for taking care of everything,” you spoke up without missing a beat.

“you look guilty, more than upset.”

“i am,” you affirmed.

“why? you couldn’t have saved your father, you know that, right?”

“it’s not about that. it’s about the lies i told him. every day, i went to meet him. everyday i read him books and sang lies to him when he asked me how i could afford the treatment, the expensive medicine, the transplant, the CCU room. i never told him about you — us. not a word. i used to take off my ring before entering his room so that he would not ask about it. i only ever told him that i took care of everything and thought it would be enough, but it never was enough. it used to eat me alive. i only used to sit and read through pages of books but never talked to him about life. he used to try his best to engage me in conversation — telling me more stories about my dead mother than he ever had even when i used to ask him as a kid. he wanted me to talk to him, to open up to him and maybe tell him what was bothering me b-because he could tell that something was bothering me, but i said nothing. i only read through fucking pages of books that don’t matter to the dead anyway! i could have put his conscience at ease by telling him the truth, by letting him know that i would not be so lost without him like he feared till his last breath. yet, — i” you lost your voice as your words turned to hiccups, “i only lied to him,” you managed to finish your sentence, a high-pitched cry tearing through the confines of your throat.

yoongi noiselessly approached you, and although you tried your best to resist his touch and wriggle away from his grip, he kept holding you till the fight in you died down, and you let him hold you. your limbs never reciprocated, but you let him to hold you, let him rub your back, let him brush your awry strands back into place, let him wipe your tears every once in a while, till the flow of salty water through your eyelids blurred your vision too much. none of that really mattered. you just cried and cried.

you must have passed out because when your eyes opened next, they fell on the wall in front of you — an arm hanging by your lower waist, you could feel the warmth of your husband’s body from behind you. he was holding you close, his heartbeat reverberating against your back.

“awake?” yoongi asked when he felt your body squirming lightly.

“mhm.”

“are you feeling better?”

“yeah, thanks for that,” you mumbled, “how do you deal with death? i know i lost my mother years ago, but i don’t think i have ever actively dealt with the loss, just the consequences.”

“i’m probably the last person who is equipped to give advice in this area, little one. i am rude, i hold grudges, and i tend to remember the negative traits in people. i don’t think i have ever processed the passing away of my own parents.”

your breathing slowed down at the mention as you did not expect yoongi to be talking about his parents, “how did you deal with it?”

“i don’t. i am always annoyed and frustrated. annoyed because i don’t have them in my life anymore. frustrated because i couldn’t protect them, as a good son would’ve.”

you turned to now lie on your back, your face turned towards him, “you couldn’t have known, yoongi,” a raised hand touched the side of his cheek.

“you couldn’t have saved your father either, but you still feel guilty.”

“because of other reasons!”

yoongi grabbed your hand and removed it from his face, “i got my parents killed y/n. yes, i should’ve known. i should’ve protected them.”

“do you really believe that?”

“why won’t i? my actions directly led to their untimely demise. nothing else by my actions.”

“you put a bad man in jail! your parents certainly would have been proud of that.”

yoongi chuckled at that, “yeah, right. little one, no matter how many bad guys you send behind bars, there are always two others to fill up that place. the world is unfair like that, and these days, ‘doing the right thing’ means nothing to me.”

“is that why you are protecting mr seokjin?”

“not really. it is my job as a defence lawyer to protect my clients. i am just doing my job.”

“b-but it’s wrong….”

“being a defence lawyer is all about exploring the grey area of the statutes. we all do wrong things in life.”

you went to say something further but stopped and turned your back to him, continuing the previous snuggled-up predicament, “can you hold me?”

“i will always hold you, little one,” yoongi’s lips attached to the back of your earlobe to leave a chaste kiss before wrapping his arms around you in a warm hug.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

your stance regarding morality and justice has always contrasted with yoongi’s, and at times, he does not appreciate it, but he has come to admire you for not being swayed by way of the world. you still have the same stance you did when he first met you. the situations between you two have drastically changed – he threw you in the middle of a whirlwind, forced you to be his bride on a whim just because he wanted to check how the legal stance of spousal privilege upholds in a real-life courtroom situation, and yet here you are in bed with him.

the feelings he harbours towards you are not love, he is sure of it, but he likes you. he has come to adore your antics and at times even finds you endearing, but he will never admit it publicly, lest his body shall go up in flames.

initially, he regretted marrying you because he forgot that marriage entails more than signing a bunch of legal documents, and it is a whole human being in your house, in your face at all times. still, he has grown accustomed to your non-imposing presence, where you have grown to become a part of his day-to-day routine. and min yoongi is nothing if not a man of habit.

he was not always such a closed-off individual, but his parents' death hit him too hard, and he continued carrying those painful wounds around by never addressing his mental health. he drowned himself in work, quit his position as the public prosecutor, and had only one thing on his mind ‘revenge’. had it not been for kim seokjin, yoongi would have ruined himself completely instead, here he is. a reputed lawyer, founder of the top law firm in the city while also achieving the revenge he wanted. yoongi has also grown quite fond of the group of boys, they are not related to his personal life or his previous life when his parents were still alive, and that gives him a safe place to just be – he does not feel the need to open up to anyone about his feelings, he just wants to be. breathe, have a couple of whiskies, and just be.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

all this talk of losing family makes yoongi want a family. he knows that what you and he have does constitute a family, albeit a dysfunctional one, but it would not hurt to have a family of his own? you would probably agree too now that you have lost your own family. he is not trying to prey on you at your weakest moment but instead, have a rational discussion with his wife about it. life is full of surprises, and we never know what the future holds.

well, while yoongi was just casually sitting in his chambers, thinking of how to bring up the topic of having kids with you, what the actual future held was definitely not the surprise that he would have ever expected.

one minute it was all fine, like any other ordinary day, and then the next thing he knows, his secretary rushes in to ask him to turn up the television. startled at the unusual request, he turned the tv on after sensing the urgency in her voice. the default news channel took up the place on the blank screen of the monitor, and yoongi finally saw it.

‘BREAKING NEWS: fourteen-year-old son of reputed lawyer harvey specter was shot by gangmen in broad daylight.’

the reporter went on to broadcast the murder scene, which was painted in blood, and there was even some scripting on the wall where the dead boy lay in his pool of blood, written in his own blood. before the camera could zoom in, however, yoongi pulled the plug on the electronic device, causing the commotion and other noises in his chamber to die down within seconds.

yoongi refuses to watch the scene, just like he had refused to visit the accident site of his parents. his secretary left shortly to give him space as yoongi sat down on his chair, with a visibly dishevelled look marring over his features.

around fifteen minutes later, yoongi finally picked himself up again. mind you, he had no sentiment attached to the specter boy, hell he does not even know the boy’s name, but just because he does not care about someone does not automatically imply that he wishes death upon them. plus, he has worked with harvey for the past five years. they make quite the intimidating duo, and harvey has always been there for him whenever he needed it. now that it is on yoongi’s shoulder, he does not know how to be there for him. how do you console someone who had his teenage child murdered in broad daylight? hell, he does not even know about harvey’s whereabouts or what is exactly happening in the real world outside. he reached inside for his packet of cigarettes to bring one out, but his eyes took note of the way his hands shook. his gaze bore holes on the back of his shaking hand. this is precisely like five years ago all over again. he is just sitting in his chamber, locked behind a stack of files when other people could really use his help, or at least really appreciate if he can just be there for them, but here he is, locked away in a high-security prison of his own thoughts.

he is not exactly sure why he is dialling your number, but your name is what his phone is displaying on the screen. it rang and rang and rang, and there was no answer from the other side. wait a second, are you alright? are you in danger?

worried, next he dialled the number of his housekeeper who kindly informed him that you had gone out. well then, why are you not taking his calls? this is the fifth time he is calling, and if you do not pick up now, he will be filing a missing person report at once. luckily, you picked up just in time. yoongi meant to ask you where you are and why exactly it took you so long to pick up his calls, but the babbling of children in the background caused his words to get caught up in his throat and slowly die down.

“what is that?”

“what? yoongi, you mean ‘who’, and it’s just hyuk and moon playing.”

“where are you?”

“remember i told you that dany had called us over.”

“and she is?”

“mr jung’s wife.”

“right.”

“are you okay? you sound off.”

“mm,” yoongi hummed before cutting the call. he knows you are safe and having fun, so he should probably tell you the news later. he is not one to rain on someone’s parade.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

unable to stay cooped up in his chamber, yoongi came back home, but you were not home yet. although he had missed breakfast when he left for work, he refused to eat a morsel overlooking juyun’s persuasive talks about health and all that yada yada yada.

it is weird because yoongi is feeling exactly like he felt when he received the news of his parent’s accident. he feels helpless. he feels like a coward for being so weak and incapable of doing anything worthwhile to not put anyone’s life in danger. the specter boy did not die because of his direct actions, but it is related to their work. in this world, you always piss someone off, and there is always someone waiting to watch you suffer.

this is probably related to the yakuza clients of the firm. around seven months ago, there was a gang war between the yakuza and some local korean gangs, and specter and yoongi had been able to get their clients free of charges. while the leader of the korean gang got convicted on two counts of murder. on the day the judgement was pronounced, the other members of the korean gang had openly threatened specter. it was even aired on television as the brawl took place right outside the courtroom in front of a fleet of paparazzi.

yoongi and probably the rest of the world already know who is responsible for the death of the specter boy but what about it now? putting them behind bars would not bring the innocent child back. it would not make it hurt any less to the child’s parents. a life is lost, and nothing can get it back. justice is hardly a substitute for this deep a hurt.

a life for a life does not work either as have been tried and tested by yoongi – he got his parents’ murderer killed, but it did not bring him even one iota of ease. he still felt guilty, even more so because he dirtied his hands to get someone killed but most importantly, it did not bring back his parents. his childhood home was still empty, his parents' room covered in dust and spider webs.

yoongi was onto his fourth glass of whiskey when you walked in the bedroom after coming back from your short get together.

“hey,” you smiled, but it turned upside down on noticing the thick smog of smoke enveloping the room. it reeked of alcohol and burnt out cigarettes.

yoongi turned his gaze to you and nodded before turning his head back to the fireplace in front of the couch set. the flames from the logs burned in the blacks of his irises, “had fun?”

“yeah, it was nice. the kids are so sweet,” you replied while emptying your bag and came across a baby sock of hyuk. it must have accidentally fallen in your bag, “oh my god. look at this, isn’t it adorable!!” you grinned, taking the cute little sock to yoongi’s figure.

“what is it?” yoongi’s gaze did not falter from watching the show put up by the blazing flames.

“hyuk’s sock!! it’s so small, so adorable, just like his cute little baby feet,” you advanced the sock towards yoongi.

yoongi kept his glass away before taking the piece of fabric in his hands. it smelt like baby powder, baby formula, and everything baby. it was baby yellow in colour and extremely small like you had been gushing about. your husband let a sigh, his fingers feeling the fabric before he threw it in the fireplace.

“wha-what the fuck!” you yelled before pulling out the burning sock by grabbing it at the edge with your nails. you can be blindly impulsive at times.

“why the fuck would you do that?!” you yelled again, grabbing some ice cubes from the ice bucket to cool down your semi-burned finger.

yoongi finally turned his gaze away from the flames and looked you dead in the eyes, “we will never have kids.”

“huh?”

“don’t huh me. you were getting there with all the gushing and baby handling, so get this drilled through your thick skull – you and i will never have kids.”

“what is the meaning of all this? are you drunk?”

“certainly not enough,” he refilled his glass again, emptying more than half the canister, “next time you go out, let me know in advance and always have the driver accompany you.”

“yoongi, what is happening? why are you talking like this?”

“leave me alone,” he gritted his teeth.

you tried to approach him, but he dismissed you with a show of hand, “just leave. and i should never hear baby talk around this house ever again.”

confused, humiliated, and feeling somewhat afraid by his erratic behaviour, you walked away wordlessly.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

a week passed by without a word from yoongi. he refused to look you in the eye or lay in the same bed as you. although you felt like the one intruding, he never asked you to leave the room and instead slept in the guest room himself. you did not see much of him either. he would return from work in the wee hours of the night and then leave early in the morning. when he was home, he would keep himself locked in his study. typically, you would at least be able to hear his voice while he is talking to some junior or client through the phone, but in the past week, you did not even hear a sigh leaving his lips. the house had gone into a permanent state of silence, filled only by your soft sighs, mutterings and short conversations between juyun and yourself. visitors have never known the min house to be home, so there is not another life around other than yours, yoongi’s, juyun’s and the driver’s.

bored out of your mind, you finally decided to go out for some fresh air. you have never been much of a homebody. owing to having part-time jobs since fifteen, you are pretty much accustomed to going out and spending your day outdoors. it feels nice, the sun on your face, and its rays always rejuvenate your energy. staying indoors is a far difficult task for you than you thought it would be. and to top it off, yoongi is not talking to you.

you were changing to some beige shorts paired with a cute top when the doorbell went off. juyun usually answers the door, so you were not bothered by the bell and went on to inserting the belt strap through the hoops when the bell went off again. odd, juyun never slacks off. she must be using the facilities or is extremely busy dealing with something else. fastening the belt, you walked downstairs and opened the door just as the bell went off for the third time.

“yes?”

“is mr min home?” a bald guy stood on the other side of the door, dressed in a white tank and a black leather jacket. you could tell he had a tattooed arm, and there were smaller tattoos on his face as well. he had a rough exterior but also had a classy aura around him. he looked like a man who held a lot of power and was in a respectable position. certainly not someone to mess with.

“no, he is at court.”

the man nodded and turned his back to leave but turned again with a fake smile, “can i bother you for a glass of water?”

you debated internally about letting a dangerous-looking man in, but he knew yoongi and looked like a wealthy client, so there was probably not much to worry about.

wrong.

reluctantly nodding, you let space for the man to enter, who sauntered in and sat down on the couch without a care in the world. you walked to the kitchen but still did not notice juyun anywhere around. sighing, you brought out a tumbler from one of the cabinets and poured water in it.

upon walking out with the glass of water, you saw the man now sitting with his phone in his hand, “here.”

“thank you, miss,” the man smiled before taking the glass of water and finishing the contents of it in one gulp, “i talked to mr min. he said he was on his way home.”

“oh? alright then, please make yourself comfortable,” you mumbled before leaving the living hall space to escape to the bedroom – not wanting to be in the presence of the man anymore.

yoongi was in his car, headed from the court to his office, when his phone dinged with a new mail. he did not want to check it but saw that it was from the yakuza boss. upon opening it, yoongi’s eyes went wide to the very brim when he noticed what he was staring at. the mail had a video attached to it – the camera lens was pointed downwards, but yoongi can clearly make out your bare legs walking into the living room from the direction of the kitchen and handing something to the boss, who thanked you for it in return. what the fuck is that guy doing at his place? why the fuck did you let him in?

yoongi did not waste a minute before directing his driver to take him home at once.

“is it urgent, sir? there is some traffic jam on the 46th,” the driver asked.

“just take a u-turn and take the flyover.”

“well, you are the lawman, sir,” the driver nodded before taking a sharp u-turn on the one-way and taking the flyover, which took yoongi home within seven minutes.

he walked out of the car in haste while it was still slowing down on the porch and directly headed towards the door before smashing the doorbell.

you answered the door again to see your husband boiling in anger. if only looks could kill. yoongi walked past you and addressed the yakuza boss.

“my driver will take you to my office. i will meet you there.”

“fine thought we could just talk here like old times,” the man shrugged before standing up.

“at the moment, that won’t be possible,” yoongi gritted out.

the man smirked a little before leaving the two of you alone.

“what were you fucking thinking? why did you let that asshole in!” yoongi’s yell boomed inside the empty confines of the house, the sound echoing off the walls.

“who is he?”

“he runs the biggest mafia organization in incheon. that’s who he is. where is juyun?”

“i don’t know. she did not answer the door, so i did. he told me that he had talked to you, and you had asked him to wait at here.”

“well, he fucking lied!”

“why are you angry at me? what should i have done instead? refuse him? i could clearly see his gun sticking out from under his jacket!”

yoongi groaned in frustration this time because you were right. these people do not precisely have a morality meter and could have easily hurt you if you had not extended the hospitality, “you are such a fucking liability. five years i have been a defence lawyer with zero issues, and the moment you walked into my life, you have been nothing but a liability.”

“stop calling me that! i am a human,” you rebutted, equally angry.

“shut the fuck up,” he turned around, looking for juyun and yelled for her. by the second time, she finally came out in a soiled apron filled with dust.

“yes, mr min? i was cleaning in the outhouse.”

“why did you leave her alone?” yoongi spoke in the same loud, angered tone.

“i-i am sorry, but what happened?”

“next time you leave her alone, i will fucking fire your incompetent ass.”

you flinched at his tone. he was being unreasonably mean and talking very rudely to the old lady, “please, don’t scold her for my mistakes.”

“shut up, y/n. i don’t want to hear a word from you. i have heard enough all these months, and i have done my best to accommodate you in this new life, but i am done now. i am done fixing every havoc you wreck in my life,” yoongi turned to you after dismissing juyun, who scurried to her feet and left you both alone immediately.

“what are you on about? i have never intruded in your work life or any life for the matter. i stay in this house like a piece of furniture and just keep to myself.”

“well, that’s too bad because from now on, you ain’t stepping a foot outside without juyun, the driver or me accompanying you.”

“but that way, i won’t have my freedom at all!”

“little one, probably the most oppressive lie ever uttered was the song of freedom. for nearly every living thing, choice breeds shame and uncertainty and regret. there’s a fork in every road, yet the wrong path is always taken.”

“i had warned you beforehand that you would regret marrying me, and yet here we are. you cannot just imprison me like this yoongi!”

“do you really want to test me? are you sure?” yoongi growled and advanced towards you.

his chest almost met yours when you suddenly felt a burning sensation and took a step back with a yelp, “ouch, what the hell?”

yoongi stared at your hand. it had a burn mark from his lit up cigarette in his hand, which must have accidentally brushed and touched the back of your hand.

“see, you are nothing but a liability.”

“and you are a fucking asshole,” you whimpered and rushed to the guest room to lock yourself in.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

that was the last you saw of yoongi for an entire month and a half. for six whole weeks, your husband ignored you, strayed away from you and downright avoided you – a part of it came from his guilt for unintentionally hurting you.

at night, when he comes back after a rough day at work, he unceremoniously barges in the guest room where you have chosen to reside these days, and he just lays down beside you – holding you snuggly in his arms and falls asleep in his work clothes, reeking of cigarettes and bourbon. you lay there perfectly still, aware of his every movement, woken by his crass door-opening. you allow him to hold you to sleep, but in exchange, you sacrifice your own sleep as the overwhelming smell blinds your senses. however, you have come to enjoy these times as it feels nice to be held – he could have gone to any woman he wants – he is rich, handsome, successful. clearly, in an unhappy relationship with his wife and yet, at the end of the day, he comes to the same wife — not to talk to her but to hold her close.

you are often left confused between feeling patronized or relaxed under his touch, but there are not many things left to enjoy, so you enjoy this embrace he gives you. his soft snores are rhythmic. midway through the night, he often pulls up his leg on top of yours and crushes you under his weight – your face in the pillow. you just sigh, close your eyes and rest.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

the quiet and silence were not for naught. it was the calm before the storm, and boy did the cloud burst on your head with the loudest bang.

towards the start of the seventh week, you received your father’s ashes. he wanted his ashes to be distributed on han river – his favourite picnic spot for a still middle schooler you. he would make those cute little bento boxes with the adorable designs, and the pair of you would enjoy them by the shore.

you decided to not waste time and distribute the ashes on the very day. however, the flaw in your plan was what your husband had ruled for you. you are not allowed to step outside the threshold without juyun or the driver accompanying you, but this is something personal. you wanted to be alone for this one and hence decided to sneak out.

isn’t it amazing when your plans just bust open and come to bite you in the ass? well, it did not take a long time for your sneaky plans to come bite you in the ass. juyun found out that you were missing from the house after the courier with your father’s ashes arrived. like a loyal servant, she immediately informed her master, who was very displeased to learn of the unsavoury news. what are you trying to do? trying to get killed? yoongi is desperately trying to keep you safe, keep you from getting killed just like everyone he cares about, but you cannot clap with one hand – he needs you to cooperate with him as well. living in luxury, catered to by servants and enjoying the best life in exchange for freedom – what is the problem with that? he earns in millions and has put every luxury at your feet, yet you choose to defy him when he is just trying to keep you safe. how difficult is that to understand? yoongi has no choice left but to take the matter into his hands – like always.

one phone call to your favourite detective jeongguk, and yoongi had your location by tracking your cell. if you are going to defy his express concerns and sneak out, then at least make it difficult for him to find you.

naïve.

han river is a mere twenty-minute drive from his office, and lo and behold, twenty minutes passed, and his driver parked the car outside hangang park. yoongi sauntered in, and within a few minutes, he was able to locate you among the sea of visitors as you stood by the shore barefoot. the hem of your dress flowed with the soft breeze from the river. you were staring out in the distance, the urn held securely in your hand as the peaceful ebb and flow of the waves crashed against your feet, immersing your ankles.

he admired the view but snapped himself out of it – this is not the time to be basking in your beauty. you have willingly put your life in danger, and for what? to distribute your dead father’s ashes? anyone could have done that! you could have just asked the driver. getting angrier and angrier with the intruding thoughts, yoongi marched right over to where you stood and grabbed you by the elbow.

it caught you off-guard, and you almost dropped the urn but regained your stability and turned to fight back the assaulter only to face your husband. oh fuck, here comes the angry stare and the unkind words. well, that is all he usually does, so you are not too scared of the outcome now that you have been caught. and let me tell you, you have never been more wrong in your life.

“i told you not to go out alone!” yoongi’s grip around your elbow only tightened as he came closer to your figure.

“yoongi, this is between my father and i. couldn’t just bring someone else for such an intimate see-off. i have to do this alone. please try to understand my plight.”

“oh yeah? your dead father wanted his ashes distributed? fine! i’ll be a good son-in-law and do it,” yoongi proceeded to snatch the urn from your hands – uncapping it and emptied the contents on the sand away from the shoreline – near the area where the river wave was not strong enough to drown it out with it, “there. it’s done. let’s go.”

you watched him frozen. your limbs fell cold as the blood circulation slowed down, much like your breathing had. you are not sure if you felt anger, remorse, regret, disdain, shock, and many other emotions and honestly struggled on how to react to this blasphemy. you tried to get away from his grip, but he dragged you towards the exit. you saw people watching you being carried away. they just assumed that it was none of their business and did not even bother butting in to help you or even to make sure if you were okay – if you were being taken away against your will but guess the world just revolves around the rich men. as long as it is a rich man, in a fine suit doing it, they can get away with just about anything and the world will not bat an eyelash.

tears rolled down your face as yoongi shoved you in the backseat of the car, slamming the door shut behind you. soon after, he got in as well through the other door.

“did you think i was joking when i told you, explicitly, to not leave the house without company? do you have any fucking idea how dangerous it is outside? they killed specter’s son, and they will kill you if that pleases them. stop flaunting yourself around like you are no one. you are mrs min yoongi – the wife of a defence lawyer. do you have any fucking idea how many goddamn enemies i have?! everything is a joke to your pretty little head, isn’t it?” he jerked you once to get a response out of you, but you kept crying, refusing to even look at him.

enraged, yoongi grabbed your chin in a tight grip and turned your gaze towards him, “cat got your tongue?”

after all your attempts to get away from him failed, you gave up and looked him right in the eyes, “how could you do that? i thought you knew better. haven’t you lost your own parents?”

yoongi’s grip loosened at the mention of his parents. well, isn’t he doing all of this cause of what happened to them? scoffing, he let go your chin and looked away when your gaze did not falter – something in him could not meet your eyes. what was he becoming? he would like to call himself paranoid, but that does not even cut half of it, not when people are really out there to hurt them.

upon reaching home, you ran straight towards the guest room, completely ignoring juyun, who asked in a worried tone why you were crying.

you locked yourself in and cried to your heart’s content. all you wanted, the only thing you wanted was to keep your father’s last wish, and it got taken from you like your will means nothing to anyone. you just want to mean something to someone, the last person to whom you meant anything is dead and just got his ashes emptied on the sand, on fucking sand where the water does not even reach over to drown it away.

it must have been hours till yoongi came to you. although you take the unnecessary care to lock the room, he walks right in with his keys.

“stop crying,” his voice had mellowed out and held a tinge of remorse. you kept crying, not paying any mind till you felt the delve of the bed behind you and tried to get away from him when he sat down, but he pulled you right back and had you sit down on his lap.

“let go of me!” you yelled in anger, your shriek booming in the confines of the walls, but yoongi did not loosen his grip. he held you down till you stopped resisting his hold, till you stopped resisting his presence in the same room as you, till you stopped resisting him.

“i am sorry little one. i am really so-”

you cut him right off. he had no right to speak after the stunt he just pulled, “i lied to my father when he was dying, yoongi. i lied to him till his last breath, i lied to him about every single happening in my life, and now you just took away that last chance i had to do anything right by him! one thing, one last single fucking thing i had, and you took it away because what? because you are paranoid!?!?! why do you even care if i drop dead someday? i sure do hope i do, so i don’t have to be imprisoned by you anymore!” you blurted it all in one breath, even though you knew he would get angry – it just did not matter anymore. you have nothing to lose.

“don’t say that, please just don’t say that. fight with me all you want but don’t say that. i am doing everything in my ability to keep you safe, to keep you from their reach so they cannot hurt you. i have grown fond of you, y/n, i think i might be in love with you, but above all that, i just wish to protect you. i don’t expect you to love me back, but please, don’t wish for that. i can-can’t lose one more person from my life.”

and that is probably the only time you have ever heard your husband’s voice falter than his usual nonchalant and casual one.

it would have been different in other circumstances. at the moment, it did not matter what he said. it was all the same to you – sweet nothings.

“good for you ‘cause i will never love you back, min yoongi.”

yoongi’s hold on you loosened at those words, which really drove a wedge through his heart – he accepts it. he has hurt you beyond words, but he can live with it. he can live with just watching you living and breathing in the safety of his house and his arms. he has survived all these years without the love of a partner, so what are another few decades?

he kept holding you for the rest of the night, securely in his lap, and you just sat there – exhausted from crying, from fighting him and his irrational ideologies – he could do whatever he wanted to you for all you cared, but he just held you.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

“eonnie, i am very sick. can you please get me some aspirin? i have a nasty migraine attack,” rei spoke through the phone when you picked her call one fine summer afternoon in may.

“can’t jimin get it for you?” you asked as you did not want to break the rules again. since the whole incident with your father’s ashes, you have not stepped foot outside this house – out of pure hatred and pettiness more than anger. life has somewhat returned to how it used to be, some nights would end in (consensual) sex, but all nights would definitely end in snuggles and cuddles. you never reciprocated his actions and let him do whatever he wanted – he was bound to be bored by a rag-doll.

“he is gone to the states for some dance competition,” rei replied with a blocked nasally tone.

“can you try and order online, maybe?” you really wished to avoid going out, but you felt guilty for refusing as well.

“i tried, but it would take more than two hours because the app says that none of the deliverymen are in my area. eonnie, please, jimin-ssi has been gone for a week. it would be nice if i get to see someone for a change.”

you let a deep sigh. well, it would be nice if you also could see someone other than your husband and maid for a change, “alright. i will come over but only to drop off the meds, i won’t stay for long.”

“works for me! you’re the best!!” rei gushed before cutting the call.

a small smile appeared on your face after what felt like weeks on hearing rei’s voice and her childish shenanigans. after a quick shower, you got dressed and headed downstairs to find juyun. since obviously you cannot go alone, might as well take your alleged bodyguard with you. upon entering the kitchen, however, all you found was a note stuck to the refrigerator.

“i will be gone to get the monthly groceries. i will be back around 6pm.”

the clock on the kitchen wall showed that it was only around four. you were left with no option but to go out alone as the driver was gone with yoongi. sighing, you set out alone after locking the doors. it would take a total of forty-five minutes to rei’s house and back home, five minutes to buy the aspirin from some pharmacy on the way and maybe a ten minutes talk with rei, and still, you would be back before juyun. finalising your plan, you took a cab and headed to rei’s place.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

around fifteen minutes past five, you left rei’s place even though she begged you to stay a while longer, wanting to hang out more with you, and although it broke your heart to refuse her so sternly, you had to. it took you twenty minutes to get back home, and you walked in unsuspecting till you noticed juyun and yoongi standing in the living room staring as you walked in.

“h-hi?” you exhaled sharply.

yoongi came back earlier because he wanted to take you out for a night out, whereas juyun had finished shopping and came back by five. she usually finishes all her work before the set-out time, so this was everyday routine work for her.

it is just the absolute worst day of your life though, why did yoongi think of taking you out on this particular day? why is juyun so prompt and diligent? can fate cut you any slack at all?

“where were you gone?” yoongi crossed his arms over his chest.

“to um, rei’s. she’s sick, and her husband is away. she needed me.”

“right. wonder if she will still need you when you are lying by the street in a pool of your blood with a bullet wound in your forehead.”

you rolled your eyes at the clearly exaggerated paranoid thought, “you are overexaggerating.”

“i-? i am the one who is overexaggerating? wow. the fucking nerve you have! and here i was, leaving back work to take you out thinking you would be so bored at home.”

“just because you thought to do one single decent act for me does not mean you own my freedom, as well. i can go anywhere i wish to. it's a free world.”

“right. it’s a free world, and that applies for the criminals too.”

“you can’t always shield me, yoongi. this is madness!”

“spare me your moral pep talks. and that rei? i am going to fire that bitch.”

“hey, don’t talk about her like that!” you raised your voice at the sudden provocation, “i am all she has, and lately, the vice versa also stands very much true.”

juyun watched from the background as the two of you fought back and forth. she clearly would not want to be a party to her employer’s personal matters, but yoongi had asked her to stay back, so she is standing her ground.

yoongi chuckled at your words, “oh yeah? she is your only family? because of what, this stupid picture that she gave you?” he pointed at the picture frame mounted over the living room fireplace before walking over to it and grabbing it.

“it might be just a frame, but a rich snob like you will never understand the sentimental value of it,” you were in no mood to bite down today, which was clearly evident from your passive-aggressive words.

“really? fine, then what’s the point of keeping it in MY house when i am an unemotional asshole,” he broke upon the glass of the frame by smashing it against the wooden frame of the fireplace and brought out the picture. with his free hand, he retrieved the lighter from his trouser pocket.

“n-no no-no, don’t do that, please,” compared to your earlier harsh tone, your voice now come out as a feeble plea.

“oh, little one, you have no idea what all i can do and more,” yoongi grinned before flicking the lighter open. he placed one of the pointy edges of the picture on the flame, and the material went up in flames faster than your reaction speed.

by the time you walked to him and snatched the burning picture from him, the fire had engulfed most of it, and your fingers let go of the charred end that was left of it, only to let the fire turn the entirety of it to ashes.

“wh-why! why are you doing this! i was good! i listened to you and kept my word.”

“clearly, you were not good enough,” yoongi turned to juyun, “get that gift i had prepared for your mistress.”

juyun nodded slowly, unsure what her employer was planning and went inside to retrieve a gift-wrapped box. yoongi got a hold of it and brought out a white wedding dress from the box.

“where did you get that?” you tried to take the dress from his hand upon recognizing that it was your mother’s treasured wedding dress.

“juyun found it one day while she was cleaning. i saw that it had some tears, so i had it restored to exactly how it was. i wanted to surprise you, but hey, it’s not like you ever want my love, right?”

and the next thing you know, your mother’s beautiful dress was up in flames. dumped on the floor, the flame engulfed inch by inch of the luscious fabric. you tried to get a hold of it in an unsuccessful yet desperate plea to save it from the fire, but you were only hurting yourself. juyun held you back while you kept thrashing against her. voiceless cries and whimpers left your throat as tears blurred your vision.

“dear, please get a hold of yourself. you know master min loves you and only wants the best of you,” juyun wiped your tears after you calmed down by her side and had slid down to a kneeling position on the floor.

you pushed her hands away, “how can you say that! how dare you even think that he loves me and cares for me after seeing what he did with your own two eyes! what kind of love is this?”

“shh,” the kind maid finished wiping your tears and tucked your awry hair behind, “go to him.”

“for what? so he can hurt me more?” your eyes fixated on the third-degree burns on your palms and fingers. they weren’t many, but they were proof of just what he did.

“just let me take care of this mess and go to him, alright?” juyun walked you to yoongi’s bedroom before ushering you in and closing the door gently behind you. a minor quarrel is usual between husband and wife, and talking can solve a lot of things, at least that is what juyun is hoping for cause what she witnessed first-hand has really shaken her, too.

you kept standing near the doorstep, your head hung low. just when you had thought that you had nothing left to lose, you lost even more things – things you never feared you would lose, and the way you lost them really opened gates to another level of emotional trauma.

“strip,” came yoongi’s voice after what felt like an eternity of just standing there with tears dripping down on the carpet. he finished the cigarette he was smoking and smashed it in the ashtray kept on the nightstand.

you looked up at him in disbelief – you were also surprised that you could feel any emotion at all after the preceding traumatizing turn of events, “what?”

“i asked you to strip, which you heard correctly the very first time,” yoongi was still angry from the act of defiance and wanted to punish you more but could not think of how. he did ask you to strip but, in his mind, it was all blank – he would never put a hand on your dignity without consent. still, a part of him revelled in that terrorised look in your eyes.

“no,” you shook your head and took a step back when yoongi stood up at your defiant answer. your back came in contact with the closed-door as yoongi stood right in front of you.

“you are not making this any easier,” he brought a finger to your figure, tracing your arms.

you shivered from the touch out of disgust and complied wordlessly. you don’t think you have anything left to lose, but you cannot take a chance, not anymore.

content by your actions, yoongi walked back to resume his seat on the bed and watched with hawk eyes as you stripped off your clothes.

his hard exterior tore apart as each piece of clothing came off. he cannot do this. not to you or any human being. you stood in your lingerie, hugging yourself in shame and fear.

yoongi felt bile rising up to his throat at sight – what is he doing?

“c’mere,” he patted his lap with a frown. he is supposed to protect you. why is he hurting you? this is not supposed to happen.

reluctantly, you walked to him before sitting on his lap but not letting your guard down.

he put his work blazer over your shoulders before snaking his arms around your waist, but they never strayed towards your intimate region. his hold was secure around your waist, and his head came to rest against your back, “little one, don’t defy me like this. believe me when i say i know better and only want the best for you. please, forgive me for hurting you. it is never my intention. i am so so so sorry.”

and there we go, we have come a complete never-ending circle finished off by his sweet nothings.

July, 2021:

valentina walked in with a cup of coffee to your room, “here, you go, miss. what you reading there?”

you looked up from your book, “shakespeare’s king lear,” you smiled, taking the cup of coffee, “thank you.”

“is it a love story about some king?” she smiled enthusiastically.

“not really. it’s a tragedy about a king who relinquishes his power and land to his two daughters and then becomes destitute.”

valentina’s smile vanished, “oh… you read a lot of tragedies.”

“mhm, now that you mentioned it, i do that. guess we look comfort from our real-life in storybooks,” you shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee.

“but you live in such a huge mansion with such a handsome husband, you don’t have to lift a finger, and every work around the house gets done routinel-” she stopped upon noticing the quirked eyebrow on your forehead as you watched her talk, she might be crossing some lines, “i am sorry, i just don’t see the tragedy.”

“it’s poetic,” you sighed on noting that she was still confused, “don’t think much about it. i am just a pessimistic person.”

“oh no, ma’am, i meant no disrespect!”

you nodded and went back to your book, prompting valentina to take her leave, as well.

valentina is the newest addition to the min house staff, and she was hired personally by yoongi because he claimed that you needed a friend, someone your age in whom you could confide in and feel comfortable around. ironic how he pretends that he actually cares or gives a shit. you have not stepped foot outside by yourself since the day yoongi burned your mother’s dress along with the picture that rei had gifted you. you go out with juyun when and absolutely required. other times, you refuse any chance to go out and choose to stay in. you do not want to set off that arsonist maniac anymore. you have had enough of his rough handling your life like a piece of paper that he gets to crumple and straighten out whenever he feels like it.

valentina is one chirpy bird. she is always so happy even if you ask her to do some extra work. she does everything in her capacity to get you talking or even going out with her as instructed by your husband, but you know better. you know that behind those honey-laced words and batting eyelashes lay a pair of greedy eyes that are eyeing up your position as the mistress of this house.

the way she subtly flirts with yoongi is so evident to you. although you have yet to find it in you to be jealous, what annoys you is how oblivious yoongi is to her shenanigans. juyun too, who is usually very strict about the household chores and always scolds valentina if she misses a spot, gladly turns a blind eye to her shameless flirting. makes you wonder how maybe yoongi’s staff do not really approve of you as his wife because you are not affectionate towards him. well, how can you possibly be? you can never fall for a person like that. it’s beyond your wildest imaginations – he can speak his sweet nothings about love and safety all he wants, but you are not going to fall for that.

for all you care, yoongi can go ahead and cheat on you. the contract you had signed on the day of marriage did not have it written anywhere that you have to love him. it just had been a means to buy your testimony, and it has fulfilled that purpose well. if he cheats on you, maybe you can bring that up as a ground for divorce. although taking the help of law against a lawyer is a losing situation, but, might as well try it out.

that is precisely how you found yourself outside of yoongi’s study late at night. you had fallen asleep but woke up to the sound of something falling on the kitchen floor. you came downstairs to check the ruckus and saw valentina making a cup of black coffee. only yoongi drinks black coffee in the household, but what was she doing here? both juyun and valentina are supposed to leave the household premises by nightfall, and yet at half-past twelve, you see the conniving little bitch in your kitchen brewing coffee for your asshole husband. maybe they are sneaking out behind your back, after all.

fine, all you have to do is catch them in the act.

you watched from the shadows as valentina finished the coffee and walked towards yoongi’s study, where he was cooped up working on a high-profile case. there was a particular sway in valentina’s hips tonight that did not escape your hawk eyes. rolling your eyes, you followed her and watched her walk in after she knocked. yoongi must have been too engrossed in his files to just blindly give permission so late at night, or he might have thought it was you. wait, why are you making excuses for him already? you are here to catch him red-handed.

you walked to the door and pushed it slightly to let a crack at the door through which you could see them.

“yes, little on-” yoongi turned up from his files and looked visibly confused on noticing that it’s not you but his new maid. what was her name, again? yeah, valentina. right, “what are you doing here? you are not supposed to be in the main house after nightfall.”

“yes, i know you work nights, so i thought of making you some coffee since miss goes to sleep,” valentina smiled, advancing the coffee towards him.

“did she ask you to be here?”

“miss? no-no! she does not even know i am here. i don’t think she cares enough.”

“excuse me? what did you just say?” it did not take more than seconds for yoongi’s expressions to turn into a scowl.

‘you are one good actor, min yoongi. as if you care if someone speaks bad behind my back,’ you thought, watching the scene unfold.

valentina walked to his side, placing her hand carefully on his arm, “you work so hard, but miss never looks after you. i can look after you, mr min, i will take good care of you!”

yoongi slapped her hand away, “what are you on about!”

“she wants to fuck you, asshole,” frustrated by his obliviousness, you exclaimed out too loudly. oh fuck.

“y/n?” yoongi called.

“ugh,” groaning, you walked in, “can’t you see it? she is flirting with you. she wants to be the next mrs. min,” you crossed your arms.

“next? but i already have a mrs min,” yoongi’s scowl turned to a smirk, he has dearly missed this feisty side of yours.

“divorce me and live happily with her. like she said, she will take good care of you. right, miss valentina?” you gritted, turning your head towards valentina.

the new maid, who was a couple of years older than you, cowered in fear under your judgmental gaze, “miss, i am sorry, please.”

“god, you look so fucking hot right now,” yoongi smacked his lips.

your eyes went wide at the vile words, is he seriously flirting with the maid right in front of you! “are you for real right no-” you turned to him, ready to tear him a new one, but your words died in your throat when you noticed that his gaze was only fixated on you. he was calling you hot, “-oh.”

you started playing with your fingers again, as has been your habit whenever you get nervous or shy. the blush on your cheeks was unmistakable, and yoongi could clearly feel the heat they radiated.

he grabbed your hand, pulling you towards him, “is little one blushing for me?”

“n-no!” you huffed as yoongi placed you right in front of him, between his legs. you both stood behind the oak table whereas valentina was by the door, looking for a chance to leave the mess she had caused.

yoongi let a soft chuckle watching you getting flustered. he guided your hips to sit upon the edge of the table, “you,” he turned to valentina, who had just opened the door to walk out, “close that door and don’t you dare leave.”

and it was at that moment, valentina realized that she had fucked up royally.

yoongi turned his undivided attention back to you, “my feisty little wife, were you jealous?”

you made a disgusted face at that, “not even by a bit. why should i be jealous?”

“is that so? so you would be totally fine if i cheated on you?” yoongi pulled up your t-shirt, and you wordlessly raised your arms to facilitate the motion.

“i dare you to try and cheat me,” you grabbed his collar, pulling him close to you.

yoongi grinned, “thought you wanted to divorce me.”

“i will find other grounds, but i refuse to be disrespected like that,” cupping his face, you kissed him, probably the first time in months. although the two of you have sex on and off, you deny him any kisses from you. it was supposed to be some punishment, but to hell with all that. your husband did not miss a beat to kiss you right back.

valentina, on the other hand, watched with wide eyes as the scene unfolded in front of her.

yoongi’s hands are always very skilful when it comes to taking your clothes off, his hands always know how to unhook your bra, and he rarely has to worry about panties because you never wear them to bed, and tonight, as well you did not. he yanked the shorts off you.

given the positioning of the table, valentina could not see you naked. only your back was to her.

yoongi leaned down to his knees and situated his head between your thighs, the intimate smell from your sex greeting his senses. his thumb massaged the outer walls slowly while his index finger aided to push your walls wide open. the hot craven calling to yoongi like the sound of a siren. he licked his lips once before delving in and doing what he does best – having you by the toes with his tongue. you gasped at the sensation of his tongue between your lush walls. your hand grabbed onto one of your breasts, squeezing it in an attempt to muffle down your cries. you refuse to give him the satisfaction — that his tongue always sends you on the edge from the very start. for instance, he has barely started, yet you are already wet, your arousal coating yoongi’s tongue like a forbidden elixir. you equipped your free hand to keep you stable on the table as it gripped the edge tightly, your nails scratching the expensive wood polish.

“you never learn,” yoongi tsk’ed when he felt you trying to close your legs together.

“guess, i never do,” you mumbled, raising one of your legs up to now rest over his shoulder blade. who is this new confident y/n?

“that’s more like it,” the devil’s advocate grinned his gummy smile before resuming his rightful position between your walls. his tongue reaching up at an angle while his fingers pumped inside you smoothly, aided by your generous lubrication. his fingers bent upwards and thrummed against the upper wall with the force that had your toes curling up.

“fuck-” you moaned loud enough for your voice to reverberate in the room, your hand now grabbing onto his hair for support.

yoongi alternated between sucking on your hollow walls to pumping his fingers at a supersonic speed. the closer he got to your orgasm, the more lubrication your sex created. he was ready to taste your cum, he was eager and excited even, but you pulled his head away.

“i want your dick,” you leaned down to kiss him.

“you will get it. have some patience, little one,” he said in between the kiss. his tongue, dutifully, transferring your taste to your very tongue.

“now! i can’t wait,” your fingers brought out his semi-hard dick from underneath his underwear and started pumping it – from the base to the tip with the same fervour that yoongi had shown you.

“whoa, someone is eager to get dicked down,” he chuckled, letting you work around his length.

“maybe because you don’t dick me down enough,” you shrugged and collected a ball of spit before dropping it on the bulbous tip.

yoongi inhaled sharply at the cold sensation of the saliva, “then maybe you should,” he took hold of his length and gave it a few pumps before entering you, earning a delicious moan from you, “speak up more.”

“never,” your fingers grabbed onto the hair on the back of his head, pulling it backwards to bring his eyes to yours.

“feisty,” he drove his length in, past the initial discomfort, and you felt your body going through physical hiccups at the slow and drawn out thrusts. he was enjoying the view, how enticing you looked, how out of wits miss holmes looked at the feeling of his dick inside her.

halfway through getting railed, you looked behind to check if valentina was watching. the moment you made eye contact with her, you smirked at her and sent a playful wink which had her staring at her feet out of sheer embarrassment and shame.

“thought i would make you come once with my tongue before dicking you down,” yoongi spit at the junction where his dick disappeared into you before collecting it on his thumb to rub circles on your nub.

“mm, we don’t always get what we want. are you afraid you can’t make me cum with your dick?”

the look that he gave you next was one that made you genuinely regret the words that you just spewed as he sped up his thrusts, accompanied with his skilled finger stimulating your sex to no ends. you grew closer to your orgasm, but yoongi had other plans – he pulled away and brought you to your feet to turn you over. his hand on your back traced downwards along your spine and pushed you down on the table – all the while, his dick poking at your inner thigh like a warning. you lowered your upper body on the table and felt yoongi’s hand holding your head down amidst the case files he was working on. your eyes fell on a familiar name, ‘kim seokjin’ and on the second line, you could clearly make out the words ‘innocent of murder charges’. you tried to raise your head up to read more, but yoongi’s hand kept you pinned down while his length impaled you again.

“mm,” you exhaled as the tip felt like it tore through your walls in this position – with your pelvis strictly bent over the edge of the table in a painful position.

you stood corrected as yoongi brought you to your orgasm, all the detective thoughts in your pretty little head getting washed over by the wave of pleasure. he kept holding you, thrusting into you at the same speed to ride out your high and chase his own. you could tell he was closer when his grip on your body loosened up. a few more thrusts in, and yoongi emptied his balls on the small of your back.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

“can you imagine i almost came inside? you always rile me up so well,” yoongi mused after cleaning your back.

“mhm, the no-kids clause. how can i forget,” you offered him a close-lipped smile, putting on his work shirt and buttoning it.

yoongi put on his underwear and wore his trousers. his hand advanced towards you to tuck your hair behind, but you dodged it and walked to valentina, holding the door open.

“i never want to see you again. leave before i drag you out by your hair.”

you did not need to repeat yourself as she made a run for the door to never come back to the min mansion.

after she made her exit, you walked out too, closing the door behind you, but before the doors could close completely, you heard yoongi again.

“by the way, i fired rei today.”

of course, yoongi had other reasons to fire her, which he tactfully did not let you on in.

it only felt like another thing that you did not know you could lose but just did to your paranoid husband.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

a/n: our hon’ble judge marly is none other than my bb @teakwoods-ghost !!

feedback is deeply appreciated.✨

masterlist | bangtan masterlist | rules | ask box

- jaimie.

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ppersonna · 3 years

Text

my only wish - knj | m

“ santa can you hear me? i have been so good this year. and all i want is one thing. please tell me my true love is here ” - my only wish (this year), britney spears

✹ summary- There are few things you hate most in this world. Hornets, unnecessary fruit pieces in otherwise perfectly good jello, certain shades of orange… But nothing takes the cake more than two simple things. Christmas. And Kim Namjoon. So why did you agree to pretend to be Kim Namjoon’s girlfriend at his family Christmas party? Bah-Humbug.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

✹ word count- 15.1k OOF

✹ genre- smut, fluff, tiny tiny angst if you squint, enemies to lovers, fake dating au, idiots to lovers, brief mention of YoonMin

✹ warnings- penetrative sex, unprotected sex (dont do it), daddy kink lolol, namjoon has a big dick, oral sex (m/f receiving), cum swallowing, light cum play, dirty talk, light degradation (very light tbh), praise kink, lots of mentions of joon being a beefy boy, masturbation,

✹ a/n- its here!! finally! my contribution to rockin around the christmas tropes. big big big shout out to @ladyartemesia @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen @underthejoon @yeojaa @snackhobi for being my co collaborators. and a warm shout out to @wwilloww and @hobi-gif for being some very lovely betas. thank you thank you! i hope you enjoy!

There are few things you hate most in this world.

Hornets, unnecessary fruit pieces in otherwise perfectly good jello, certain shades of orange…

But nothing takes the cake more than two simple things:

Christmas.

And Kim Namjoon.

Christmas, in your opinion, is nothing more than a consumerist holiday, anchored on ensuring you’re guilted enough from November 1st to the 25th of December to spend your hard earned money on shit your friends and loved ones won’t even use. It’s a time for people to pretend they love giving and caring, while shoving you out of lines in stores, buying up all the groceries as if it’s the end times, and forcing party after mindless party for “celebration” that ends in seeing your boss drunk and pants-less by the punchbowl.

And don’t even start on Kim Namjoon.

On paper, he’s your colleague, to put the terms friendly. In reality, he’s your opponent, your adversary. He’s annoying, rude, stuck up, and not to mention a douchebag heartbreaker. He’s everything you hate wrapped in one disgustingly handsome face.

The man never misses a chance to steal a case from underneath your nose, rub the praise he receives from your bosses in your face, and look ridiculously delectable in his tight suits that he insists he wears around the office. He absolutely infuriates you.

And now, as you sit in the company-wide meeting, your heart sinks as you realize the worst thing about Namjoon—he’s about to get the promotion you’ve been vying for your entire career.

That position was as good as yours—at least, you had thought.

That was until lead counsel, Seokjin, stands in front of all the attorneys present and calls out Namjoon’s name, commending him on winning his latest case—the case that you had done the bulk of the work for. Seokjin even tells the rest of the lawyers in the room that Namjoon is “someone to watch” with a glint of pride in his eyes.

The smug smile Namjoon sends in your direction as he teasingly nibbles on a pen with his sultry mouth is enough to make you want to tear his eyes out and use them as olives in the martini you sorely needed.

Namjoon smirks as he walks past you once the meeting ends.

“Make sure you watch me, baby,” he whispers into your ear.

His hand rests on your lower back and you hate how much he aggravates you, and hate even more so that he frustrates you sexually as much as he does intellectually.

Unfortunately, your body can’t keep up with your mind’s distaste for the elder lawyer. His presence around you makes your blood vessels tighten and your head feel light—nipples prickling against your bra when he winks at you.

“Asshole,” you whisper under your breath as you pack up your notebook.

“Oh, ___!” Seokjin calls out just as you’re about to leave the all-glass meeting room.

Your head suddenly screeches to a very frustrated, sexual halt when you turn to face the lead counsel of your company.

“Yes, Mr. Kim?”

“I’ve got a case for you.”

The smile on his face makes you relax. Maybe he sees your potential. Maybe he’s testing you just as much as he’s testing Namjoon. Maybe you’ll be the “one to watch” and you can rub that right in Namjoon’s perfect, stunning face.

A thick manila folder slides across the oak table towards you from Seokjin’s hands. The impressive volume of the dossier makes you giddy with anticipation.

“I know you won’t let me down.”

You nod, nibbling at your lips, before bowing to your superior and dashing out of the room as fast as your Louboutins can handle.

It’s not until you sit at your desk, a cramped little cubicle next to Park Jimin, your best friend and paralegal assistant, that you open the folder.

Your heart sinks as your eyes hurriedly rush over the title page.

Personal Injury Suit.

A dejected sigh leaves you as you throw the folder onto your desk and slouch back in your ergonomic office chair.

“What’s up, pussycat?” Jimin smiles as he rolls his chair over to your side of the cubicle. “Namjoon got you worked up again?”

You groan as you take off your reading glasses, setting them aside to rub at the burgeoning headache building at your temples. You had momentarily forgotten all about Namjoon in the hurried hope that you’d land a case of significance, something you could finally use to prove yourself.

Instead, you gained yet another in-and-out, settle outside of court case. Likely some elderly geriatric suing a corporation for too-slippery floors.

“Another fucking personal injury suit,” you whine as you thrust the folder into the lithe paralegal’s hands.

He looks over the documents and sucks his teeth.

“Man, Seokjin really has it out for you.”

You level a look at your best friend, before nodding and holding your head in your hands.

“Namjoon is getting all the good cases! He gets the media attention, the litigation deals, everything! It’s like I’m not even given a chance to show what kind of lawyer I can be when I’m stuck with all the nursing home and car accident suits!”

Jimin bows dutifully, nodding his head as you express your woes.

“I can do more than just personal injury litigation… and Seokjin knows that! It’s just that Namjoon keeps getting all the air-time!”

“I know, babe. I know.”

With one last sigh of disbelief, you take the folder out of Jimin’s hands and sit upright at your desk.

“Well, I guess if I’m going to be a personal injury lawyer, I’m going to be the best fucking one yet. Let’s get to work.”

“Yeah! Fighting!” Jimin cheers.

Namjoon sighs as he listens to his mother blabber on and on through his phone. He leans back in his chair and surveys the wide expanse of his corner office.

Seokjin gave him this space, an upgrade from the desolate cubicles when he won his last big case, Kim Taehyung, artist v. the city of New York. He can’t help but smirk as he glimpses you from his window, pouring over a case file. He notes the curve of your back in the silk blouse you’re wearing and the way it tucks into your pencil skirt. He wishes he could see the outline of your ass and watch as it sways back and forth when you walk.

“I just don’t understand why you can’t ever bring anyone home for the holidays!”

His mother breaks him from his silent reverie of detailing every aspect of your backside.

“You know your grandmother will not be alive much longer! And all she wants is her only grandson to be happy and in love! And a few grandchildren won’t hurt!”

“I am her grandchild, Mom.”

She’s silent for a moment.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind some grandchildren either.”

He groans again and presses his fingers to his forehead, a headache bubbling up behind his eyes.

“Don’t you act like that, young man! You have a big empty house, big car, big life, and no one to share it with. I just want you to be happy.”

She continues on and Namjoon can’t help but let her words sink in.

He has it all. Expensive luxury apartment, enormous bed, gorgeous kitchen, money to spend on traveling and enjoying life. Yet he spends most of his time here, stuck in his office. He’s utterly alone, regardless of how many social guests he tries to entertain, horrid dates he attempts to go on. He’s always left alone, and he feels it deep at the very bottom of his heart—the loneliness and desire for a companion.

“Mom! Mom!” He interrupts her diatribe on the futility of his adult life. “Stop!”

“Namjoon, I’m just conce-”

“I’ll bring home my girlfriend for the holidays, okay?”

There’s a stunned silence on the other end.

“A girlfriend?” she asks, tentatively. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, wincing already at the lie he’s spoon-feeding his poor mother—all in the name of getting her off his back. “She’s kind of shy, so I didn’t want to tell you about her yet, but now seems like the best time. I’m... I’m even thinking of proposing.”

The words come out of Namjoon’s mouth before he can stop them. His mom bursts into screams of delight, and he can tell she’s running to his beloved grandmother to tell her the news.

“Oh, Namjoon! This is all we’ve ever wanted for you. I’m so proud of you! I can’t wait to meet her! Oh, goodness, I can’t want to tell your father. Goodbye, son! I’ll see you two soon!”

She hangs up before Namjoon has a chance to even breathe.

“Fuck.”

He drops his phone to his wooden desk and grimaces.

How the hell is he going to find a fiance in the next 3 days before the holiday break?

There’s Jennie, his ex.

He thinks about it for a moment, before quickly dismissing it. No, much too clingy and possessive. She’d take it to be real, and he’d be stuck with her.

His last hookup, Jihoo?

No, too aloof. His mom would never buy that they were a love-sick couple on the brink of engagement.

A crash outside his office startles Namjoon, making him stand and exit the large corner suite.

The commotion is coming from your cubicle, where he can see you’re struggling to use the decrepit computer. The crash must have been from you slamming the keyboard to the desk, causing the individual keys to pop off the board.

“Shit! Jimin, help me put this keyboard back together!”

You shimmy out of your chair and onto your knees, an excellent sight for Namjoon if he wasn’t so concerned about your well-being.

The paralegal is standing above you, watching as you kneel to gather the pieces of the obliterated keyboard.

“Oh no, honey. It’s against my personal constitution to be on my knees unless it’s for a handsome man.”

“God, Jimin, come on.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you hulk-smashed the life out of that poor keyboard.”

Namjoon smirks, turning back into his office and sliding into his desk. He easily opens his MacBook and emails Yoongi in IT, requesting a brand new computer for your desk—no holds barred. He wants the top of the line for you.

He suddenly has just the person in mind to be his fake fiancée.

A brand new, gorgeous computer is at your desk the next day you arrive. You nearly spill your hot peppermint mocha when you see the sleek machine atop your old plastic desk instead of the broken clunker that was there the day before.

“What the hell?” You ask Jimin as you set your coffee down gently as if any movement might scare the new computer away. “Did you order this?”

“I love you, but I would never order you something this nice.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes as you sit down to marvel at the modern machinery. At least Jimin is honest.

“Maybe I’ll call Yoongi and ask him where it came from,” you wonder aloud, hand hovering over your phone.

“YOONGI?” Jimin screeches, eyes suddenly wide and crazed.

“Yeah? The IT guy?”

“I know who Yoongi is, you dumbass! Here, let me call him! I’m your assistant!”

He scrambles to grab the phone out of your hand.

“You literally refuse to do anything I ask.”

Jimin smiles cherubically, completely ignoring your confusion. He’s suddenly the picture of a model employee.

“Don’t you worry! I’ll be right on it!”

He hops from your desk with your cell phone gripped tight, and saunters away to a secluded area out of your eyesight.

“What the fuck is going on today?” You ask out loud, settling into your chair and unloading your bag of files.

“How's the new computer?”

The sudden intruder makes you jump, nearly spilling your coffee, yet again.

“Fuck!” You shriek as you attempt to right yourself and the dangerously hot liquid sloshing in the paper cup. “You scared me!”

The chuckle that comes from behind you makes your stomach flip. You know that laugh. You could recognize that laugh a hundred miles away, in a hurricane, with headphones on.

That laugh is the sultry demon himself, Kim Namjoon.

“I—How did you know about my computer?”

Namjoon takes a knee, bringing his face to your level in your chair. He’s close to you, so dangerously close. You can smell the Giorgio Armani cologne applied to his pressure points—the heat of his skin warming the scent and mingling with his own subtleties. Your eyes nearly roll back in your head. He smells so comforting—like a home you never knew you were missing until he arrived.

“I saw it when I walked in this morning.”

He breaks you from your daydreaming of warm, firm hands caressing your body and you’re thrown headfirst back into reality—the reality where you can’t stand the man mere inches from you.

You push back from where you are and stand, eager to get away from Namjoon’s sudden interest in close proximity. He smirks and rises from his spot, pocketing his hands in his tight cream suit.

“Care to join me in my office for some coffee?” He asks.

His office. The one he scored after he won the Kim Taehyung case. The bitter betrayal still lingers in your mouth.

For the longest time, you had been equal in every sense; both living in the dingy cubicles with the computers long-destined for retirement. Then, Seokjin awarded him with the corner office, the one with the view of the entire city. You’d never forgiven either of them.

“I have my own coffee.”

Namjoon smirks as he eyes your paper cup, clearly a quick grab from the 7-Eleven around the corner.

“Looks fancy.”

You purse your lips and clutch your coffee even closer.

“Please,” he asks again. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

Namjoon’s face loses its snark, and you’re curious about what could cause the man to become so serious.

“Fine.”

You motion with your arm towards his office, encouraging him to walk ahead. He smirks again, ah—there’s that smirk, before he turns and heads into the gorgeous corner room.

He lingers by the door as you enter, waiting until you’ve crossed the threshold to close the door behind you. It surprises you. Something about being in a closed room with Namjoon sets you on edge. You can nearly imagine the man bending you over that fine oak desk, hiking your skirt up and spanking your ass until it’s red.

“Coffee?” He asks as he moves towards the in-office espresso machine.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You have a Nespresso in your office?”

All desperate and wanton thoughts of Namjoon sliding into you leave once you see the stainless steel contraption in the room's corner. Of course he has a $500 coffee machine in his office. He has everything you want.

“You like it?” His question is cocky. He already knows the answer.

“Fuck off.”

Namjoon grins and turns the machine on, pulling out two mugs while you sip your now lukewarm coffee. It suddenly tastes disgusting.

“So, what’s the deal, Namjoon?” You ask as he rests against the wall and waits for the coffee to brew. “You said it was important.”

Namjoon nods, a more reserved look taking the place of his usual cocky grin on his face. His gaze turns down to his shiny dress shoes.

“I need a favor.”

“No.” Your answer is quick.

Namjoon looks up at you in surprise.

“You haven’t even heard it yet!”

“Yeah, well…,” you huff. “I’m not interested in helping you.”

Namjoon leaves his post by his elaborate coffee maker, forgetting about the piping-hot liquid drizzling into white mugs, as he stands in front of you. There’s that fucking cologne again. Why does he have to smell so good?

“You’ve got to help me. Please.”

His sudden closeness to you sets your brain off—your steely resolve begins to crumble.

“Fine, I’ll bite. What is it?”

His face lights up again. God, he has such a handsome mouth.

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend for my family Christmas party.”

If you hadn’t had such a good grip on the convenience store cup of coffee, it’d surely drop from your clutch and splatter on the expensive carpet of Namjoon’s office.

Your eyes widen, and your mouth falls agape.

“You—You what?!”

Namjoon sighs and lowers his voice.

“Look, I…” he struggles. “I told my mom I have a girlfriend, so she’d get off my back about it.”

“And why am I suddenly your best option for that?!”

You step away from the man, determined to clear your mind as the scenario weaves its way through your head.

Namjoon’s girlfriend. He wants you to be his girlfriend.

Well, his fake girlfriend.

He would hold your hand. He would kiss you. He would touch your body in ways you convince yourself you don’t think of often.

“You’re the only girl I know who’s got a good enough poker face to go along with it. And honestly… you’re the only girl I really know well enough.”

His last admission shocks you. Namjoon seems like the womanizing type—one to bring a different girl home every night.

“That doesn’t explain why the fuck I would want to help you.”

Namjoon steps back and moves towards the coffee machine again.

“If you help me, I’ll take all your shitty cases that Jin is giving you.”

Your eyes narrow at the tall man. It seems too good to be true.

“How d'you know about them?”

Namjoon shrugs and grabs a mug full of freshly brewed expensive coffee.

“I can hear you complain to Jimin about it every day.”

You grumble under your breath, sucking on your teeth as you try to process the terms of Namjoon’s deal.

“So you want me to be your fake girlfriend for your family…” you muse.

“Yes,” he agrees. “And I’ll do all your worst cases for the next 2 months. I’ll even give you my next big one. I know you want that.”

God, he’s right. That’s all you want. A chance to prove yourself to Seokjin, to the company.

With an aggravated sigh, you relent.

“Fine! But it better be a good fucking case. And, I’m using your coffee maker every morning.”

Namjoon can’t help but chuckle, loving the fire in your voice.

“Deal?” He murmurs.

He holds out his hand to shake on it, and it takes you by surprise how warm and soft his large hands are once you slide your own into his grip.

“Deal.”

Jimin is not going to let you live this one down.

Jimin doesn’t let you live it down.

He’s sitting on your couch, legs crossed underneath him as he hoists his wine glass filled to the brim. He holds it away from his body as he shakes with laughter.

“You’re telling me,” he wheezes. “That you agreed to be Namjoon’s fake Christmas girlfriend? You hate that man!”

Flopping into the couch beside him, you sigh.

“Yeah, well, it was my only option. He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“Okay, Godfather,” Jimin snickers. “Lord knows you still want to bone that man, anyway.”

“Jimin!” You admonish. “I do not! And that wasn’t the deal!”

He sips at his red wine with an impish smile. You hate it when Jimin looks at you like that, like he can see behind the lie you’ve so carefully crafted of your hatred for Namjoon.

“Then tell me, what was the deal?”

You fiddle with the stem of your own wine glass, sighing.

“He’s offered to take all our shitty personal injury suits for the next two months. And he’s giving me his next big case.”

Jimin actually looks surprised—as if he didn’t expect Namjoon to provide a deal so worth the cost.

“Wow,” he breathes.

You nod in reply, taking a large gulp of the pinot grigio in your glass.

“You’re still going to fuck him though, I know it,” Jimin adds.

You splutter your wine from your mouth, hand reaching over to gently slap Jimin on his taut abdomen.

“Shut up!” You cry.

Jimin looks proud of himself, sipping his red wine gleefully while he settles further into your couch. Wine nights with Jimin is the highlight of your weeks. Together, you bitch over cases, coworkers, dating struggles, and eat too much cheese and cured meats and nurse a hangover the following day with brunch.

“Hey,” you say to Jimin as you set your wine down on the coffee table. “Did you ever talk to Yoongi?”

Jimin’s cheeks immediately turn a shade of rouge.

“Yoongi? Yoongi who?”

“Oh my god,” you groan. “Yoongi from IT. You stole my phone to call him today? To ask about my new computer?”

Jimin swallows a large swig of his wine.

“Oh. Yes, I did.”

“And?” You encourage the blonde to answer further.

“And he’s doing well,” Jimin replies demurely.

“Jimin!” You huff. “The computer?!”

Jimin makes an ‘O’ shape with his mouth and bites his lip.

“I… might have forgotten to ask.”

Your mouth drops open.

“You literally stole my phone out of my hands to call him! What did you talk about?!”

There’s his blush again. The shade of pink on Jimin’s cheeks would be adorable if you weren’t so flabbergasted by his answers.

“I have a date tomorrow night.” He takes another sip as you let the reply sink in.

“Oh. My. God.” You gasp, a smile now overtaking your features. “You have a crush on Min Yoongi!”

Jimin sets his wine glass down next to yours and turns to you.

“I had no idea if he was into me! But when I called, I totally forgot why I was calling him and we sort of just… started talking and next thing I know, he’s asking me out to dinner tomorrow night.”

You playfully slap at Jimin’s thigh.

“You little slut—using my phone to get yourself a date. On company time!”

Jimin sticks his tongue out at you, before grabbing a pillow and slapping you with the overstuffed cushion.

“At least I didn’t agree to be his fake girlfriend!”

It’s the sound of your phone ringing at 7:32 am that wakes you from your spot on the couch, wine glass still clutched in your hand.

“What the fuck?” You grumble, eyes blearily seeking the offending object disturbing your sleep.

Jimin grumbles next to you, kicking at your foot as if it will stop the phone from ringing.

“Stop,” he whines and cuddles into his fetal position. “Turn it ooooff.”

You locate your cell phone and groan as you recognize the name on the caller ID. Namjoon. What the fuck could he possibly be calling for? And why did he have to call at seven in the goddamn morning?

“What do you want?” You snap as you hold the phone to your cheek and throw yourself back onto the couch.

“Well, good morning to you, sunshine.”

Namjoon’s voice, as sexy and sultry as it sounds, still aggravates you.

“Why are you calling me? It’s Saturday. Its seven am.”

Namjoon chuckles and you fight the shiver that works through your spine at the sound.

“I tend to keep human hours on the weekend.”

You can’t hold back the sarcastic guffaw that escapes you.

“Okay, Mr. Perfect,” you sigh. “That doesn’t explain calling me.”

Jimin kicks at your foot again.

“Stop talking,” he grumbles.

God, Jimin is such a diva when he’s hungover.

“Meet me at the cafe on First Street,” Namjoon says casually. “I’ll tell you when you get here.”

“Right now?!” You ask, incredulous.

“I’m literally already here. Hurry before your coffee gets cold.”

You let out a whine that could rival a 5-year-old’s temper tantrum.

“Fuck you. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

There’s no care about your phone when you end the call and throw it to the floor. Jimin grumbles and rubs at his eyes.

“Why the fuck are you having phone sex with Namjoon so early in the morning?” He asks.

“Jimin, I swear to God.”

He wraps himself in the throw blanket and buries his face back into the couch while you stand and retreat to your bedroom to throw on some semblance of appropriate clothing for the occasion.

“Fucking Namjoon,” you grumble under your breath as you change into jeans and a sweater. “Fuck him and his stupid, sexy face. And his unbelievable ass. And his stupid, probably enormous penis. Man, I hate him.”

As you’re re-entering the living room and grabbing your important items (keys, wallet, lip gloss just in-case), Jimin pops his head out of his blanket cave.

“Where are you going?” He asks, suddenly less annoyed and more pathetic. “You’re leaving me?”

“I have to go meet Namjoon for coffee. I don’t know why, so don’t ask.”

“You’re really going to let me suffer here? Alone? With no coffee?”

You spin around to face your best friend, who’s giving you an absolutely soul-crushing pout and puppy eyes.

“Yes. Call Yoongi.”

His precious pout is wiped away, and a devious smirk takes its place.

“Great idea!” He says as he digs around for his phone. “Be careful out there! It’s icy! Wouldn’t want you to slip and fall on Namjoon’s dick.”

Your only reply is one singular middle finger in Jimin’s direction as you exit your apartment.

Namjoon can’t help but smile as he sips his warm coffee. The cafe is warm and bright, despite the chill outside.

Things feel peaceful. Tender flakes of snow trickle down outside and frost up the shop’s window. There’s something about this time of year that strikes him down to the core. Something cozy, something warm.

It’s odd to think this will be his first year not celebrating the holiday alone.

Even if it is... well, fake.

The bell over the door chimes an arrival, and Namjoon can tell by the grumbles and grunts and stomps of snowy boots that it’s you.

“Over here!” He calls, raising a hand and turning to face you.

Wow, he thinks. You look gorgeous, even without trying.

You hurry your way over to the booth and plop yourself on the opposite side, immediately lunging for the obvious mug of coffee waiting for you on the table. You don’t waste a minute gulping the liquid down your throat, then spluttering when you realize it’s still hot.

“I thought you said it was getting cold!” You cry, airing out your burnt tongue. Namjoon can’t help but imagine that tongue sliding up and down his cock.

Not now. Wrong time and place to get a boner.

Namjoon smiles as he sips his cappuccino.

“I got you a fresh one.”

You make a face, but your features soften. As if you’re pleased with the idea that Namjoon cared to freshen up your cup.

“Oh, well--”, you manage. “Thank you.”

Namjoon doesn’t reply, but merely tips his head. The silence is thick enough to cut with a knife. Normally, you’re both normally so wound up in aggravating the other that a moment of calm is strange, but not unwelcome.

“So, why the early morning wake up?” You finally ask, fiddling with the handle of the mug.

Namjoon settles his cup down.

“We need to get to know each other. Deep shit, you know. The shit that lovers would know about each other.”

He notices you, watches as you nibble at your lip. You try hard to hide it behind the mug you lift to your lips, but Namjoon notices.

“I’m hoping maybe we could spend the day together,” he adds. “I need to get some Christmas gifts for my family and… well, it’s rather lonely doing it on my own.”

There’s a slight smile at the ends of your lips.

“And you needed me at seven thirty in the morning to do that?”

He stifles a laugh.

“Like I said, I operate at regular human hours. Even on weekends,” he replies.

With a dramatic sigh, you agree.

“Fine,” you say. “I’m an open book. Ask me anything.”

He watches as you settle into the seat of the booth, hands gripping the warm mug like it’s a personal heater. He notices you’re only wearing jeans and a sweater--no properly warm clothing for the snow storm ahead. He’ll have to fix that, and soon.

“What are you doing for Christmas?” He asks.

You level a look.

“Spending it pretending to be in love with you.”

Namjoon can’t help but snort a laugh.

“I meant after that.”

You shrug as you settle back into the seat.

“I don’t like Christmas. I don’t do much other than force Jimin to kiss me under the mistletoe and watch shitty movies with a gallon of boxed wine.”

“Hmm,” he hums. “You’re sort of a Grinch.”

A scowl comes over your face.

“I am not! I just don’t buy into this whole ‘prove how much you love me by buying me things’ shit. It’s a big scheme, I tell you! Capitalist propaganda! They encourage you to spend all your money, and if you don’t, they shame and guilt you by telling you you don’t love your family enough.”

Namjoon can’t help but laugh as you rant. It’s what makes you such a talented lawyer—your ability to feel a passion so deep within you you’re able to convince a stone-faced jury of your side.

“Don’t laugh at me!” You cry. “I’m serious! My family doesn’t celebrate, I don’t celebrate. I’d rather just buy gifts for my loved ones when I see something they’d like. Why do we have to put a time of year on it?”

He shrugs and scooches his mug around the carbonate table.

“I suppose that makes sense,” he muses. “But you’re still a Grinch. And a Scrooge. You’ll definitely get visited by some Ghosts at midnight.”

“Ha ha,” you snark sarcastically. “Hilarious, Namjoon. Don’t tell me you’re a big festive guy.”

“Somewhat. It’s my Mom’s favorite holiday. It’s why she’s so bent out of shape about me having a girlfriend. Something about family and love and shit.”

You nod, understanding him completely. Your own mother, despite her reservations towards the holiday, still makes a fuss over your single status. There must be some Mom code to obsess over your children’s woeful dating life.

“Well, I say let’s get on with it then. Ready to hit the shops?” He asks.

You’re mid-sip of your finally cooled coffee and you send a desperate look to the man in front of you.

“Already?!”

“We’re burning daylight, baby.”

Namjoon stands and you can’t help but feel a roar of flames in your belly at the pet-name. Your cheeks are surely flaming up and you admonish yourself for getting so peaked about such a trivial name.

“Please don’t tell me we’re walking,” you murmur as you sneak a peek outside.

The snow is falling down harder now, and you’re dreadfully underdressed for the weather.

Namjoon tsks at your lack of outerwear, but then shakes his head.

“No, we’ll take my Range Rover.”

You roll your eyes and grimace.

“Of course. You have a fucking Nespresso machine and a Range Rover. Asshole.”

Namjoon doesn’t even think about it as he grabs your hand and laces his fingers in between yours. If anyone asked, he’d say it’s practice—to familiarize himself with the way your fingers slot between his own so it’s not such a foreign concept when he does it in front of his family.

“Yeah, but I’m your asshole now, princess.”

Christmas shopping with Namjoon is mostly painless.

Normally, you dread the lines and the crowds and the confusion and the expense.

But with Namjoon, you relax and banter away with the tall lawyer. You’re completely at ease as you walk through crowded aisles and sort through racks of cashmere sweaters and stacks of fuzzy blankets.

“Mom will love this, don’t you think?” Namjoon asks, holding up a thick, exquisite looking blanket.

You’re about to answer with an affirmative when you catch yourself. You don’t even know his mom. You’ve never met the woman. Why does it feel as if Namjoon is someone you’ve known your entire life?

Why do things feel so easy with him?

“Sure, Namjoon,” you reply. “Seems like something most mother’s would be into.”

He smiles at you. It’s a genuine smile too, one that nearly knocks you on your ass. Your body is sent into overdrive constantly. He holds your hand, he places his hand at the small of your back to guide you through a thick crowd. He calls you baby and princess and doll.

It’s confusing.

It’s amazing.

You can’t tell if you love it or hate it.

Namjoon pushes the shopping cart and walks beside you, chatting easily about his various aunts and uncles names that you likely must remember at some point but you just can’t think about anything but Namjoon, Namjoon, Namjoon.

You hate him. He stole that corner office from you. He’s going to take the promotion you want from right under your nose. He has a goddamn Nespresso in his office and a Range Rover.

And yet, you can’t help but fall in place next to him and listen to him tell stories of his childhood, weaving tales of uncles who snuck him his first sips of alcohol and aunts who spoil him rotten. He’s easy to listen to, a natural story-teller. Your body feels warm, as if you’re sitting on a large hearth by a roaring fire. He’s comforting.

It’s infuriating and wonderful all at once.

“And that’s when my cousin Jungkook got caught smoking cigarettes. My grandma beat our ass so bad I couldn’t sit for a day.”

Namjoon finishes his story and turns to look at you. You’ve been staring at the man for nearly a minute straight now.

“Hey,” his voice is soft. “You listening?”

You shake out of the trance Namjoon’s deep voice sends you into.

“Yeah!” You reply with a smirk. “Sounds like this Jungkook is a guy I’d like to meet.”

Namjoon sucks his teeth and nudges you.

“Hey, you’re my girlfriend, remember.”

You stick your tongue out at him playfully.

“Fake girlfriend. I’m still a single, desirable lady at the end of the day.”

Namjoon hesitates before answering. He wants to reply something snarky, something sarcastic and witty. But he takes a moment to pause, allows himself to fully immerse himself in you. Even hungover, in yesterday’s jeans and an old sweater, you’re still an absolute catch. You’re the definition of desirable and Namjoon can’t help but allow himself to desire.

“Hmm, is that what you call it?” He asks, now allowing the sarcasm to permeate his words. “I was thinking you’re more of the spinster, cat-lady type.”

“Hey!” You pout as you slap at his arm. “I’m allergic to cats!”

“But you don’t deny being a spinster.”

“Fuck you, Namjoon.”

He grins and pushes the carts towards the candle aisle, a sure-fire gift for his aunties.

“In due time, my love.”

By the time Christmas Eve arrives, you’ve spent nearly every day with Namjoon. At work, he brings you fresh coffee from his Nespresso and buys you lunch. You’ve even landed his big case, an incredibly complex lawsuit that will showcase your skills. Namjoon gives you pointers and space to talk through the case with him.

Namjoon is, in fact, simply being kind. And it unsettles you.

Your heart and brain are at war with each other constantly. You should hate him, loathe him. He’s going to nail that promotion regardless of what you prove to Seokjin.

But your heart tells you he deserves it. He’s an incredible attorney and has earned every ounce of respect. You want Namjoon to get that promotion just to see that smile on his face. He’d do incredible things as Seokjin’s protege to take over the firm.

You hate to admit it, but Namjoon has melted the ice around your heart. And you’re dreading the day after all this is over, because it will be the day Namjoon stops holding you close and pressing soft kisses to your temple. It will be the day he stops pretending this is all real.

It’s Christmas Eve and you’re sitting in Namjoon’s expensive Range Rover, plush leather seat toasty from the built-in seat warmer. You can’t help but marvel at the way the oncoming headlights brighten up Namjoon’s features as he drives you down a snowy mountain lane. They always hold the Kim family holiday party at Namjoon’s late grandfather’s cabin in the mountains, a quiet getaway for the family to gather and spend the night together to wake up on Christmas morning and gather around for presents and food.

Which means waking up to Kim Namjoon.

It’s something you’ve dreamt of often, but denied yourself any actual possibility of it. Namjoon was always out of reach, and it was easier to hate him for his success he rightfully deserved than it was to admit the feelings that were always inside.

And now, although it’s artificial, you can’t bear to think of not spending your time with Namjoon anymore.

You steal a glance again at him, and smile as you hear his faint humming. He loves Christmas music. You learned that early in the week during another early morning coffee and ‘get to know you’ before work. Namjoon couldn’t stop singing Mariah Carey’s classic pop song under his breath as it played over the speakers in the cafe.

“It’s so pretty up here,” you muse as you force your vision away from Namjoon’s gorgeous face to the snowy scenery outside.

The snow is falling gently, not enough to cause a blizzard but enough to make it seem like you’re trapped in a picturesque snow-globe. Leaving the city and entering the magical forest stirs an emotion inside you you hadn’t felt in some time.

It’s Christmas Eve and there’s just something magical.

Ugh. Unbelievable.

Namjoon has even made you actually enjoy Christmas.

He nods. “Yeah, it’s my favorite place in the world, I think.”

“I can see why,” you sigh. “It looks like a painting.”

Namjoon glances over at you peering through the window. His heart hammers in his chest hard as your glittering eyes bounce around from tree to tree, a pretty smile on your face. The diamond ring in his pocket feels like it weighs a literal ton and he nibbles at his lip.

He bought it for the showmanship of it all, initially. It was his first purchase he made when he set up this whole rouse.

But now, it feels real. It feels like he’s really about to get on one knee and ask you, the girl he’s absolutely head over heels for, to marry him.

And then it will be over.

He’ll make up some story to tell his mom about how it didn’t work out and you’ll go back to being his coworker, and nothing more.

Namjoon can’t fight the sinking feeling in his stomach.

Nothing more.

He pulls into the driveway before you even have time to realize you’re there. He puts the car in park and smiles over at you.

He looks so cute in his puffy winter coat, hair pushed to the side and a smile that’s all dimples and cheeks.

Fuck.

“We’re here,” he whispers. “You ready?”

Suddenly, the nerves of meeting your fake boyfriend’s entire family slap you right in the face. You hope that you’re a good enough actress to get Namjoon through the night and into the morning.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He nods and squeezes your hand, an unspoken comforting ‘I got you’.

Namjoon gathers his wrapped gifts and stacks them all in his arms, ignoring your pleas and giggles to help carry them in.

“No, no,” he assures. “I have to make sure my mom sees me being manly and helpful.”

As if on cue, the front door opens and Mrs. Kim is bursting out into the snowy night.

“Namjoon!” She shrieks, completely overjoyed. The rest of the family is standing by the door, eyeing you carefully with smiles and whispers. You pray to whatever Christmas God that’s listening that you can do this.

Namjoon sets the pile of gifts down just in time to wrap his delicate and tiny mother in his arms, hugging her tightly while she gleefully buries her face into her tall son’s chest.

“Oh, my son, I’ve missed you.”

Namjoon kisses the crown of her head and smiles.

“Missed you too, eomma.”

The scene has you misty-eyed and you swipe at your eyes to stop the tears. There’s no way you’re ruining the fantastic makeup you did for the occasion, but the reunion of Namjoon and his mother is heart-warming. He clearly cares for his mother more than he would outwardly admit.

Namjoon and his mother unwrap from each other and Namjoon turns towards you.

“Everyone, this is ____,” he breathes. “My girlfriend.”

His mother’s gleeful squeals now turn to you, and within an instant she’s gathering you up in just as tight of a hug as she did to her son.

“Oh, darling, we are so happy to meet you,” she beams.

The excitement in her voice makes you feel bad—like you’re conning an old woman out of her retirement. You’re instilling a sense of hope in the kind woman, and you can’t help but send Namjoon a look as you wrap your arms around her and return the embrace. His eyes sparkle with something you can’t read.

“I’m happy to meet you too,” you smile as you pull apart. “Thank you for letting me come.”

“No thanks necessary,” she admonishes with a wink. “We had to beg Namjoon to bring you. It seems he wants to keep you all to himself.”

“Eomma!” Namjoon snaps. “Be appropriate!”

She nudges you with her elbow knowingly, which makes your cheeks flame hot, before she leads the way back into the house.

“Come in, come in! Let’s get out of this snow.”

Namjoon encourages you to step inside with a gentle hand at the small of your back—a touch that makes your body light up brighter than a Christmas tree.

“Thank you,” he whispers in your ear from behind. You can feel the warmth of his lips and your body reacts.

How is it that any simple act makes you desperately horny for the man? You pray for some respite from your sexual frustration over the next day. How are you going to last over 24 hours?

Namjoon deposits his massive haul of gifts under the tree and returns to your side, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to bring you close. He introduces you to uncles and aunts and cousins. He even introduces you to his infamous cousin, Jungkook, who smirks at you in a way that makes Namjoon pull you in closer to his body.

“Are you doing okay?” Namjoon finally asks after the rush of relatives greeting you dies down. He turns you towards him, to face him directly with his hands on either of your shoulders. “You’re killing it.”

You can’t help but smile. Namjoon’s family is all incredibly kind and funny. They welcome you into the family with ease and it chips away a little more each time at your heart.

Because this is all fake.

One day, Namjoon really will have a girlfriend to bring to Christmas and to show off to his relatives and it won’t be you. You’ll be back at your apartment, watching shitty TV re-runs and binging on Chinese takeout, as you do every year. It’s a jab at your heart each time the bitter truth rears its ugly head.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m great.”

“Look!” Jungkook shouts. “They’re standing under the mistletoe!”

Namjoon blushes a shade of red that likely matches a blush on your own cheeks. Sure enough, the green branches of the mistletoe taunt you from above.

You’ve never kissed Namjoon before. In all the skinship and closeness of the last week, you’ve still yet to close the gap to kissing the man.

“Oh, come on Kook, that’s a stupid tradition,” Namjoon murmurs awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Jungkook smirks as he steps up next to you.

“Well, if you’re not going to do it, I’d be more than happy to take your place.”

Jungkook wraps a loose arm around you and gives you a charming smile. He must be very popular with the ladies, you think. That’s a charming smile.

“Hey!” Namjoon grabs for your hand and tugs you out of Jungkook’s predatory gaze. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Namjoon looks at you for a moment, assessing your comfort level with everything about to take place. His lips look so inviting, so plush and warm. Now that you’re thinking about kissing him, you can’t help but focus on the way his lips pucker so gently and naturally.

And then it happens. Namjoon lowers his face towards you and it feels as if the world is in slow-motion. It’s happening.

The first press of his lips is soft and conservative. You take a split second to register, but instinctively you press against his lips with determination and wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

He groans softly as you trail your tongue out to seek purchase in his mouth, and he opens for you without hesitation. His hands grip at your waist and bring your body flush against his. You can feel his cock twitching and rising from the kiss that’s gone from innocent and playful to passionate and deep. It feels like the world around you has stopped and the only thing that matters is Namjoon, his mouth, his body against your own. He tastes like hot chocolate and peppermint, and you want more, more.

“Oh my god, stop,” Jungkook’s voice shatters your illusion of being all alone with Namjoon. “Now you’re just showing off.”

Namjoon pulls away from you, eyes dazed as he tries to right himself.

“You two are just so perfect for each other,” Namjoon’s mother says, who’s suddenly appeared in Jungkook’s place. “Let me show you your bedroom.”

“Oh, we’re sharing?” You ask without thought. It’s a large house, with ample bedrooms surely for you to have your own space.

Namjoon nudges you in the ribs gently, eyes widening and mouthing a ‘what the fuck do you mean?’

“Of course dear, don’t be silly,” his mother replies with an eyebrow waggle and a chuckle. “I remember when your father and I were dating. He would sneak into my room after my parents went to bed and keep me up all night long. Your grandfather would ask me if I had terrible dreams that night, because I looked so tired.”

Namjoon makes a face. “Eomma, please,” he begs. “Please don’t talk about my parents like that.”

As his mother guides you down a long hallway, your mind is whirring with too many thoughts of Namjoon, of sharing a bedroom with Namjoon, of seeing his sleeping face and waking up next to him. It’s all too much, too overwhelming. You pray there’s a couch in the room you could sleep on, because you’re far too weak and you’d rather fight the desperation in your body than face the fact that you want nothing more than to curl right into Namjoon’s strong arms and let him hold you all night to sleep.

Fuck.

“Here we are!”

His mother opens the door with grace, and flicks on the light. The room is beautiful in its simplicity. A king sized bed, a fireplace, and a balcony with a view of the sprawling snowy scene outside. It’s cozy and warm and decorated with its own Christmas tree.

“Wow,” is all you can muster.

“Aish, Mom,” Namjoon sighs as he drops his bags. “You didn’t need to do all of this for us.”

Mrs. Kim holds his hand in both of hers. “Well, I know how special this Christmas is going to be,” she winks. “I want you to enjoy your time here. Now, I’ll leave you two alone for a bit. Dinner is in an hour, so ‘freshen up’!”

Another wink, and Namjoon makes another face. She definitely wants grandchildren, that much is for certain.

She closes the door behind her and you’re left standing in the room, overnight bag in hand.

“This is—Wow, this is amazing.”

You’ve never experienced Christmas like this—with decorations and warmth and family. It’s as if the love of the Kim family permeates the very walls of the expansive cabin, like it’s built into the foundation itself. For a moment, you allow yourself to soak it all in. This is all yours. It’s your Christmas and you finally understand why so many make such a fuss over it. The results are nothing short of remarkable.

“Yeah, she really does the most,” Namjoon laughs.

He takes the bag from your hand without your notice and you step towards the balcony to peer into the night. The landscape looks as if everything has been covered in soft marshmallow. The snow is untouched—picture perfect.

“I’ve never had anything like this before.”

Namjoon settles your bag and his on the bed, watching as you soak in your own wonder. The smile on your face is not one he sees often, one of pure joy. Namjoon swallows hard as he realizes he wants to be the one to always put that smile on your face.

“Not such a Scrooge after all, eh?”

You turn from the still-life view outside and back to Namjoon, where he stands at the foot of the bed. He looks so different outside the office. He’s wearing skinny jeans and a flannel shirt, his puffy jacket hanging by the door. No cream suit, no slicked back hair or shoes shiny enough to see your reflection. Just simply Namjoon.

He’s no longer the man who steals the limelight in the office. He’s no longer the man you see as your adversary or your rival.

He’s the man who’s showing you the magic of Christmas, the spirit of love and kindness that embodies the season.

He’s the man you’ve fallen in love with.

And yet, he’s the man who will leave once this is over and return to his proper life, and you to yours. He’ll return to sleeping with models and movie starlets, and you’ll return to binge watching Great British Bake-Off with Jimin and a carton of Chicken Tikka Masala.

And Christmas will never feel as special as it does now.

So, you’re determined to soak in it for a little longer. It’s going to hurt regardless, so why not push that hurt off until tomorrow and allow yourself to pretend you live the lie you’re spinning for Namjoon’s family?

“I think I’ll just freshen up and change into my dinner outfit, then?” You ask out loud, grabbing for your overnight bag and heading towards the ensuite.

Namjoon, who expected a witty retort, takes a moment to reply.

“Oh,” he coughs. “Yeah, sure. I’ll err—, I’ll just get ready out here.”

You quickly escape into the bathroom, closing the door and resting on it as you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

The tension in the bedroom with Namjoon was too thick, too powerful, especially after the kiss you just shared. His cock had been there, straining in his jeans as you licked into his mouth. The kiss felt so natural, as if you had always kissed Namjoon like that. Your heart beats loud and hard in your chest just from the thought of it.

You really needed to get a handle over yourself. You still have dinner to get through, and an entire night in a bedroom with Namjoon. A bed with Namjoon.

No, you won’t allow yourself to go that far. You can pretend you’re his girlfriend, but all thoughts of his delectable body doing scintillating things to yours is strictly off-limits. You shake all thoughts of a thick, heavy cock sliding into your mouth and warm hands spreading you open, and set about fixing your makeup and changing into the gorgeous cocktail dress you purchased for the occasion. It wasn’t often you got to get dressed up. The emerald green velvet dress clings to your body and highlights your curves. It’s a sexy dress, definitely, but also appropriate for a formal evening with your boyfriend’s parents.

Well, your fake boyfriend. Right.

After fixing your hair and buckling your heels, you take one last glimpse in the mirror for good luck and exit the room.

Your breath is nearly knocked out of your lungs as you see Namjoon.

You’ve seen him dressed up for court and for TV appearances millions of times, but you’ve never seen him like this.

He wears a blood red button up without a tie, a few buttons open to emphasize the casual look, tucked into the tightest and sexiest slacks you’ve ever seen. They hug his thighs and sit at a spot on his waist that you just know is rippling with cut lines from his work in the gym. His hair is tucked back with a bit of hairspray, and he’s fixing the sleeves of his shirt when he sees you.

His eyes widen and his hands fall to his sides as he soaks in your appearance.

An absolute vision.

He can see the gentle valley between your breasts and the way your dress pushes up your cleavage and displays your collar. The dress follows the delicate curve of your waist and hips and ends at your knee, but teases him with a glimpse of thigh that has him wiping his mouth in case he’s drooling.

“You look incredible,” Namjoon murmurs as you step closer.

“So do you.”

You swallow hard as he continues closer to you, breathing harshly as he stands right in front of you. You could reach out and unbuckle his expensive slacks and fist his cock right there. You’d fall on your knees for him, if he asked.

There’s a moment of silence as Namjoon’s face inches closer and closer to your own, each unable to verbalize just how desperate either of you feel for the other.

“Namjoon, I—,” you start. You want to tell him. You want to tell him everything—that you don’t want this to be fake, that you want this to be real, and you want to be his and his forever.

“Yes?”

You swallow hard, shaken by just how close his lips are to yours. He’s inches away and all you can focus on is the way his plush lips look and how well they fit against your own under the mistletoe.

“I just—, I really um, I’m just very…”

You’re not making sense. Comprehension of language is quickly soaring out the window because the only words you know are ‘Please, for the love of God, kiss me and make me yours’, but you can’t bring yourself to speak them out loud.

Namjoon’s hand cups your cheek, as if he can tell what you’re trying to say.

“Yeah,” he breathes. The inches between you turn to centimeters, to bare millimeters. Your eyes flutter close as you feel his breath dance over your lips and your heart beats so loud you’re sure the entire household can hear it. He’s right there and moves in to close the distance—

“Knock Knock!!”

The forceful, cheery voice of cousin Jungkook forces both of you to jump away from each other as if you’ve touched a burning stove. Your head feels light, like you’ve forgotten to breathe for the last ten minutes and you’ve suddenly taken in too much air.

The wooden door squeaks open and Jungkook pokes his head in, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Auntie sent me to get you. It’s dinnertime!”

Namjoon rubs his face frustratedly. “Yes, thank you, Jungkook.”

Jungkook doesn’t leave, however. He smiles at you and winks.

“Would you like an escort to dinner, madame? You look tastier than the roast beef downstairs.”

A blush creeps over your cheeks as Namjoon storms to the door where his cousin laughs.

“That’s enough, Kook. We’ll be down in a minute.”

He sends you one more grin, then retreats from the door and closes it behind him.

“Sorry about that,” Namjoon apologizes. You’re not sure what he’s apologizing for—Jungkook, or the moment before.

“It’s alright. Let’s go?”

Namjoon nods and holds out his hand with a smile.

“Let’s go, girlfriend.”

Dinner with the Kim family is as delightful as every other interaction with them has been. They’re polite and funny and ask questions about your life and your family.

They ask how you met Namjoon (at work), what your favorite quality about him is (his smile and his ass), and what your first date together was (coffee at seven in the morning).

You tell stories of Namjoon in the office, of your best friend Park Jimin who’s secretly trying to date the IT manager, of your parents and Christmases past.

By the time dessert is served, Namjoon’s mother looks at you as if you’ve put the very stars in the sky.

Namjoon doesn’t miss that look either. He can see the way his family is falling in love with you and somewhere deep in his stomach, he feels the guilt rising. All of this is a lie. Not only is he going to break his own heart, but every heart of his family member’s too.

“We’re all just so overjoyed that Namjoon has found someone to share his life with,” his mom speaks softly. It’s the first time she’s been thoughtful and quiet. She’s a woman who’s larger than life, you’ve found, so the softness in her tone strikes a chord. “You’re absolutely perfect for him. I’ve never seen him happier.”

Fuck.

“Thank you,” you murmur sincerely to his mother. “I’ve never been happier.”

Namjoon peers up from where he’s been pushing around his uncle’s famous chocolate cake on his plate to watch as you speak.

“Truthfully, I never cared much for Christmas. I thought it was a rubbish holiday and spent it alone every year with a bottle of wine and some takeout. Namjoon really changed that for me,” you smile at the man and place your hand in his lap to hold his free hand. “He showed me more about Christmas in one week than I’ve felt in my entire life.”

Namjoon’s mom wipes away an errant tear and he squeezes your hand under the table.

“I guess the Grinch’s heart has grown 3 sizes, after all.”

Namjoon’s joke lightens the soft mood, and suddenly there’s chatter around as the family members move about to wash dishes and clean up the mess of dinner. Everyone leaves the table except for you and Namjoon.

“That was some good acting,” he whispers with a sad smile.

“Right,” you whisper back, nibbling your lip anxiously. “Acting, of course.”

You should have thought through the bedroom sharing thing more.

Because sharing a bedroom is one thing.

And sharing a bed is another.

And of course, the only pajamas you thought to bring tonight is a very sexy long shirt that says “no coffee, no talking” with a bedazzled pair of shushing lips. That’s it. Just a single shirt. Not even a pair of shorts or pajama pants.

You slip into the bed first, as far onto one side of it as possible. It’s a king sized bed, and it still feels too intimate, too close.

Namjoon exits the bathroom after his shower, rubbing at his wet hair with a towel. He’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of flannel pajamas, leaving his bare chest on display.

Sweet lord in heaven, you nearly cry out loud. He’s absolutely ripped, pecs defined and droplets of water from his hair streaming down. You want to chase each drop with your tongue and circle back again. You shut your eyes tight and clench your teeth. Why, oh why, does he have to look so fucking sexy at a time like this?

Namjoon sees you at the edge of the bed, shutting your eyes closed like you’re a shy schoolgirl afraid to see a naked man’s body. He feels guilty for making you be here. He knows you’ve likely got better things to do than spend time with a man you openly hate.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes for nothing in particular.

You ignore it. Instead, you’re trying to think of every un-sexy thing in the world you can possibly imagine. Taxes, a bunch of bees, old people, shark attacks.

There’s absolutely nothing that can stop the image of Namjoon’s perfectly sculpted body from bursting into your mind. You’re nearly pleading with yourself to just go to sleep and contemplate how hard you’d need to hit your head to knock yourself out as fast as possible.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he says as he grabs a small throw blanket from the closet and throws it to the ground by the fire.

It snaps you from your musings of how best to forget how badly you want to suck Namjoon’s cock through his pajama pants.

“What?” You sit up in the posh bed and finally make eye-contact. “Why? It’s freezing. There’s a literal snowstorm outside.” You motion to the window of the balcony. What was once a gentle snowfall is now a full-on winter storm.

“There’s a fire. I’ll be fine, I sleep hot anyway.” Namjoon’s voice is low and without energy. He almost sounds sad.

God, is being with you that hard for him? You know you’re just the artificial replacement until he has the real thing, but you’d actually hoped Namjoon had found it as comforting and warm as you had.

“Namjoon,” you sigh. “This is a king-sized bed. You don’t need to be waking up with back pain because you gallantly slept on the floor.”

To emphasize your point, you tug back the blankets on the other side, beckoning him to join.

He hesitates for a moment, as if he’s weighing the pro’s and con’s and sliding into bed next to you in his mind, then stands and pads his way on the plush carpet towards the bed and slips in.

There’s an entire football field of distance between you two in the bed, but it feels like he’s right beside you. You imagine sliding in right next to him, wrapping your arms around his taut chest and pressing soft kisses to his stomach.

You squeeze your eyes closed again. Stop it, you horny slut.

“Thank you, again.” Namjoon breaks the silence. “I really appreciate you helping me out.”

“Yeah,” you swallow hard. “Of course. What else was I going to do? Jimin’s probably sucking Yoongi’s dick right now, so I’d be watching baking shows alone.”

Namjoon laughs for a moment, then quiets.

“You know, I don’t even really want that promotion at work.”

You’re surprised by the sudden change in topic, but you turn over to face Namjoon.

“What?! Really?”

Namjoon nods and stares at the ceiling. “I don’t think I’m that good of an attorney to get it, anyway.”

His statement makes you sit up in bed again, staring at the man in disbelief.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Namjoon? You’re the best lawyer in the firm.”

Namjoon says nothing, just turns to stare at you curiously as you continue.

“You’re like… literally better than Seokjin, too. The way you handled the Taehyung case was nothing short of historical. Like, that was an impossible case, and you nailed it. That was your ‘OJ’ case, you know?”

Namjoon barks a laugh.

“My what?”

“Your OJ case!” You use your hands to emphasize the importance of what you’re saying. “Like, they’ll write about you and how impossible the odds were of winning that case. And you won it! Not even Seokjin could have won that case.”

He’s silent again, watching as you speak directly from your heart with all the fire and passion you feel about the things you care about. It’s what makes you such an incredible lawyer, too.

“Wow,” he breathes. “Thank you.”

You settle back down from your excitement, suddenly bashful at how fanatical you became.

“You’re welcome,” you murmur. “You deserve that promotion. And the office.”

Namjoon smirks.

“And the Nespresso?”

Your eyes narrow and send a glare to him he can see even with the faintest of light in the room.

“No, no one deserves the Nespresso, except for me.”

He chuckles and settles down into his pillows.

“Goodnight,” he whispers.

“Goodnight, Namjoon.”

There’s a beat of silence and your eyes flutter shut easily. It’s quiet, and all you can hear is the crackle of the log in the fireplace and the wind blowing past the balcony windows as the storm outside rages.

“Oh,” Namjoon whispers again. “And, Merry Christmas.”

You can’t fight the smile that creeps onto your face.

“Merry Christmas, Joonie.”

“Happy Christmas!” A voice bellows through your bedroom at approximately seven fifteen am.

You groan, immediately grimacing and burying your face into your firm, warm pillow.

“Nooooo,” you whine, trying to hide from the offending noise.

Namjoon shakes awake, and notices Jungkook standing at the bedroom door once again.

“It’s time for presents!” He giddily explains. “And, they gave me the job of waking you two up.”

“Of course,” Namjoon yawns.

“You look a little wrapped up,” Jungkook smirks, eyeing your sleeping body. “I’ll give you two a minute. Don’t get distracted.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes and watches as the door closes, before he turns his attention towards you.

Somehow, in the middle of the night, you’ve scooched yourself to his side of the bed and draped your body around his. Your face is buried in his chest and your legs are haphazardly intertwined in his own.

He bites his lip. His cock is rock solid, not just from his usual morning wood, but from the way he can feel your tits through your shirt, and from the sight of your pink panties. Namjoon wants to take them off with his teeth and bury his face in your delicious cunt, and his cock is nearly screaming at him to get on with it.

“Hey,” he whispers to you, actively ignoring the demon that is his turgid length. “Wake up.”

This causes you to cling harder to his chest, rubbing your sleepy face on him.

“What is it with you and early mornings?” You ask, blearily raising your head to peer at him judgementally.

Namjoon bites his lip, curious about your reaction to the tight embrace you’ve got on him. He doesn’t want to say anything, doesn’t want to break the spell. Frankly, he wants to push your sleep shirt up and stuff you full of his cum.

“Merry Christmas?” He offers shyly.

You take a full minute to recognize what’s happening.

You’re no longer on your edge of the bed. You’re wrapped around the man like a koala, legs strewn over him without care and clinging to him like he’s a lifeline.

“Oh!” You gasp as you jerk out of his grasp.

In your movement, your leg brushes over an obvious tent in Namjoon’s pants, making him groan softly. You shut your eyes, embarrassed at how disgustingly horny you are for the man who’s not even interested in you sexually.

“Christ, I’m so sorry,” your cheeks flame bright red and you scoot further from him.

“No, no, don’t be,” Namjoon wheezes as he tries to fix himself. “It’s fine. It’s more than fine. It’s great. It happens. Don’t worry.”

He continues to stammer out reassurances as he leaves the bed and bolts into the bathroom to fix his unruly tented pants, leaving you sitting atop the bed washed with shame.

“Fucking hell,” you whisper to yourself as you rub at your cheeks. “Get a grip of yourself.”

Inside the bathroom, it only takes Namjoon a few fisted jerks of his cock and the mental image of you beneath him, begging for him, until he’s silently cumming on an expensive towel. He bites his free hand to stifle the moans he makes as his cock pulses.

By the time he arrives back in the bedroom, you’ve changed into a hoodie and yoga leggings that accentuate your ass so delectably that Namjoon thinks about turning right back into the bathroom for a second round.

“I’m sorry!” You nearly shout when he walks into the room. “About the bed. You were warm and I was cold. That’s all.”

Nmajoon simply nods, doesn’t want to have to explain how he wishes he could wake up like that every day. Doesn’t want to describe in vivid detail how he’d wake you up with his tongue buried deep in your cunt.

“Let me grab a shirt and we’ll head out, yeah?”

Your eyes dance over the defined ridges of his body, a little crest-fallen at the idea that this might be the last time you see him shirtless, but you nod anyway.

“Yeah.”

The ring box sits in a deceptively large box beneath the tree. Namjoon wrapped it last night and hide it at the very back. His heartbeat hammers in his ears as his family passes around gifts and opens each with squeals of delight.

His mother gave him new ties for the office, ones that Namjoon prefers. She’s even gifted you with jewelry, which makes your eyes water at the sentiment.

It all begins to be too much. It’s harder and harder to hold back the tears as each of Namjoon’s family members gives you gifts. It doesn’t matter the value, not at all. The fact that they specifically set out to include you in their gift-unwrapping makes your heart snap in two.

This is all too much, it’s too real.

It’s everything you never dreamed you could have. A loving partner who lets you sit in the space of his legs and rubs your arms soothingly. A family who goes out of their way to include you in the abundance of love and company. A cabin so warm and cozy.

The tears don’t stop.

It’s at the end of the gift exchange that you finally allow yourself to breathe.

“There’s one more,” Namjoon whispers as he moves from behind you and fetches a large box from behind the tree. “It’s for you, princess.”

Curiously, and suspiciously, you eye him as he sets the enormous gift in your lap. You had done nearly all his Christmas shopping with him, and can’t remember a single thing he would have gotten for you.

“I hope it’s the Nespresso from your office,” you snark with a smile. His family members all laugh and exchange knowing looks to each other.

Namjoon doesn’t think he can breathe. He watches as you begin to carefully unwrap the large box, which reveals another box, slightly smaller. He can’t help but grin as you continue to unwrap the nesting-doll style gift until you’re down to the smallest one, the one that holds the ring box.

With one last tear of paper, your eyes widen as you recognize the velvet box.

“Oh--,” you breathe as you delicately pry open the gift.

Inside sits a dazzling and gorgeous diamond ring. It catches the light from the fire and sparkles like a firecracker.

“Oh my god,” you whimper as the tears flow again.

He’s proposing.

Namjoon settles himself onto one knee and tucks an errant piece of hair behind your ears.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I knew from day one that you were always the girl I wanted to marry,”

Namjoon’s speech sends daggers to your heart. He’s so convincing for something so counterfeit.

“I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember, much longer than we’ve been together. You’re who I want to come home to every night, and who I want to wake up with every morning.”

It hurts. It hurts so badly that you’re crying even harder as he continues to speak. His family must think you’re simply overcome with emotion and love that the crying doesn’t give it away, but inside you’re absolutely dying.

There’s no way you can recover from this.

Tomorrow, Namjoon will take the ring back to where he got it from and return to what he had before. He’ll leave you behind, broken and hopelessly in love with a man who faked a relationship so well that you fell for it, hard.

“____, will you marry me?”

You take several large, gulping gasps to reply. You can’t shatter the illusion. Namjoon’s parents are weeping with joy, while his relatives record the moment on their phones and wipe away errant tears. Even Jungkook looks soft, proud of his cousin for taking the next step in his life.

Oh, how you wish this were all real.

“Yes,” you lie with a smile. “Yes, Namjoon, of course!”

Namjoon grins and pulls you to standing, gathering you in his arms as he hugs you tight. His family cheers and hollers in the background, and you sob into his shoulder as you cling to him.

He easily slides the diamond ring out of the box and onto your finger, where it sits and taunts you. The weight is heavy, and you whimper at the realization that this will never be for you. It will sit atop a pretty model’s finger sometime soon, when Namjoon resumes his regular life.

“Oh, my darlings, I am so happy for you!” Namjoon’s mother appears and wraps you both in a hug, weeping and kissing cheeks. “We must discuss planning!”

It’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. The tears and weeping turn to wracking sobs, which quiets the family as they watch you hold your face in your hands.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize through your grief. “I—I just need a moment.”

Without another word, you turn from the scene and bolt back towards the bedroom.

It’s silent and Namjoon’s heart sinks.

This must be too much for you, too much for you to pretend to love him. He knew it was too much and he should have discussed it with you beforehand.

“She’s just a little err--,” Namjoon tries. “Easily emotional. I’ll go check on her.”

His family understands as Namjoon hurries towards the bedroom and gently opens the door.

You’re sitting over your overnight bag, trying to shove any clothing into it you can, while you sob openly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I should have told you. I sort of... told my mom I’d be proposing to my girlfriend.”

There’s pain in your eyes as you snap your head up to look at him. It nearly destroys him.

“You should have warned me!” You gasp. “Namjoon, I can’t do this.”

Namjoon lowers his head and shoves his hands into his pockets of his pajama pants.

“I get it. I know you want to go back to your regular life. I can take you home now.”

You’re silent for a moment, standing and moving towards the man.

“Don’t you get it, Namjoon?”

He raises his head to look at you curiously, brow knitted together with confusion.

“I’m in love with you, you asshole!” You cry, pushing at his chest. “I can’t continue to pretend this is real anymore. I love you, I absolutely love you and I can’t go on watching you pretend you love me too. It’s too much for me to handle.”

Namjoon’s world freezes in time as he watches you slide the ring off your finger. He grasps your hand to stop you, his eyes boring into your own.

“I never had to pretend.”

Before you can speak, Namjoon cups your cheek and pulls you in close, mouth sealing over your own in a desperate kiss.

You don’t fight it, not at all. You sink into his grasp and kiss him back with fervor, with all the pent-up emotions you’ve held back all this time.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispers as he pulls away from the kiss. “I meant every single word I said.”

More tears stream down your cheeks, and Namjoon is quick to wipe them away with his thumb.

“I know it’s maybe too soon for us to really be engaged, but I—I want that, with you,” he adds. “I want you to be my girlfriend… for real.”

“Are you being serious right now?” You ask as your hands cling to Namjoon’s waist.

He can’t help but to laugh, nodding in reassurance as he leans down to press his lips to yours in a tender kiss.

“Never been more serious in my life.”

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” Joon murmurs into the nape of your neck.

You were supposed to be driving home to your apartment now, back to real life, but the snowstorm raged on and Namjoon decided it might be best to spend yet another night in the cabin. Together. As a couple. A real couple.

You didn’t put up much of a fight.

He’s pressing soft kisses into your tender skin as he closes the door to the bedroom.

“All mine, all mine.” He chants it like a mantra.

You’re trying to maneuver your way into the dark bedroom, only guided by the light from the fireplace. Namjoon stops you and pulls away from your neck, eyes soaking in every inch of you.

“You have no idea what I’ve been dying to do to you,” he speaks after a moment of appreciating your beauty.

“Hmm, I think I have some idea,” you say, a finger at Namjoon’s chest, directing him towards the bed. “I’ve been dying to suck your cock, Joon,” you whisper in his ear as he makes his way backwards. “Will you let me?”

Namjoon nods in a daze as he sits on the edge of the bed and watches as you kneel. Your eyes are full of hope, full of lust. It makes his cock harden further.

“Please do,” he breathes. “I’ve wondered what you’d look like with your mouth full of my dick.”

You smile as you tug at his flannel pajama pants, pulling them down thick thighs and calves until they’re completely off. Your mouth waters at the sight before you. Namjoon’s cock is thick, head weeping with pre-cum and straining hard against his taut chest. He’s been working out more, you can tell. His arms are full and strong, and his chest is so firm and defined.

He’s an entire three-course meal.

Before you move closer to his cock, Namjoon stops you.

“Take your shirt off.”

You comply easily, already settling well into an obedient role. He discards the shirt to the side and marvels at your breasts. He can’t wait to mark them up, suck them until you’re crying.

“Perfect,” he sighs. “You’re fucking perfect.”

He allows you to resume your work, eyeing the length of his cock before wrapping a hand around it and gently pumping.

“Shit,” he breathes as his head falls back. “I’ve dreamt about how it’d feel having my cock in your hands.”

“What else have you dreamed about?” You ask with a teasing smile, bringing your lips to the tip to paint tiny stripes. He tastes salty, somewhat earthy, and the pre-cum that’s gathered at the top gets swept up by your tongue.

Namjoon can’t believe how lucky he is. Can’t believe how incredible it feels to have you here, licking at his cock like a lollipop. He’s enchanted by the way your delicate tongue swirls around his head, testing and teasing.

“You look so good, princess,” he whispers as he tucks stray hair behind your ears.

You’re encouraged by his sweet-talk and soon descend to take his cock fully in as far as you can go. You’re definitely out of practice, but you steel yourself up to take him completely to the back of your throat. Namjoon’s desperate moans and cursing only encourages you further.

Soon enough, you’ve started a rhythm of bobbing your head and swirling your tongue and pumping your hand down his thick length. The noises leaving your mouth are sinful—slurping and sucking and whining around him. Namjoon’s got a hand on the back of your head, holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail and coaxing your bouncing head further down his cock.

“Oh, shit, baby,” he grits through a tight jaw. “I’m gonna cum baby girl, fuuuuckkk—oh god, yes baby, just like that.”

You slurp and swallow around his cock as much as you can, head bobbing at a frantic pace while you cast your eyes upwards to the man to watch him come apart. He meets your eye contact and loses it at the fire burning in your beautiful eyes.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasps as his cock pulses. “Cumming, baby—ohhhh, shit, take it all, baby.”

After slowing your pace completely, you sweetly moan around his length as his salty cum splatters on your tongue. Bringing Namjoon to climax with your mouth is already one of your favorite hobbies, and you’re desperate to do it again.

When he’s completely spent in your mouth, you pop off carefully and present your tongue to your boyfriend, who smiles.

“You gonna swallow my cum, baby girl?” He asks, cupping your cheek sweetly.

You nod in reply, and he groans as he watches you close your mouth and visibly swallow his load.

“Fuck, that was so hot. Fucking kiss me already,” he demands, pulling you up gently by the hand and pressing his mouth to yours. He doesn’t care if he can taste himself still lingering in your mouth. In fact, he thinks your mouth should always taste like him.

Namjoon holds you close as he kisses you, tongue diving around and seeking purchase in your mouth. His hands are roaming your body, cupping your breasts and caressing your curves. He can’t get enough. He doesn’t think there will come a time in his life when he won’t love touching you.

His hand smoothes over the satin of your panties and he smirks into the kiss as he feels how wet they are.

“Oh my,” he tuts as he rubs at your clothed slit. “All this from sucking my cock, princess?”

It’s too late to be ashamed of it. You simply nod and whimper as his thick fingers rub at your core. You’re dying to feel those fingers inside you, scissoring you open to prepare you for his massive cock.

“P-please,” you gasp, needing more of him. “Please, Joon.”

He lets out a breath of contentment, loving the way his name sounds in your breathy moans. In one quick swoop, he flings your panties off and onto the floor and slides down to his knees where you knelt moments before.

“I want to see this pretty pussy up close,” he murmurs as he lays you out at the edge and spreads open your thighs as wide as he can.

You’re gorgeous, absolutely mouth-watering. He licks his lips as he watches your folds drip with arousal and takes a delicate finger to trace the slit gently.

“Fuck,” you gasp as he swirls his finger around your sensitive clit. It’s been so long since someone else has made you orgasm, you’re sure you won’t last a second with the man of your sexual dreams face-first in your cunt.

“This is my pussy now,” he states as he leans in close and licks a fat stripe from your hole to your clit. “I’m going to make you cum every fucking night, baby. Gonna claim this cunt as my own.”

You’re trembling from his words and his actions as he soon buries his face into your pussy and eats as if he’s a man starved. His tongue swirls around your hole before swiping up to your clit, making your back arch and keen off the bed. His lips wrap around your throbbing clit and sucks gently, lewd noises echoing off the walls of the bedroom.

“Namjoon!” You squeal as he slides two of his fingers inside you and slowly pumps. They’re thick and perfect, and they’re better than you could have ever dreamed.

“Cum for me, baby,” he coaxes as he licks at your clit. “I know you want to.”

He’s right. You’re desperate for it and the string inside your belly that tightens with each thrust of his solid fingers has it nearing a snapping point.

Namjoon speeds up, adds a third finger and fucks into you like a man on a mission. He watches your face pinch in agonized delight and is hypnotized by the way your tits bounce with each thrust up. His cock is rock solid again, aching to bury itself deep inside your womb and coat you with his cum.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he breathes as he watches your body quiver. “Cum on my fingers, let daddy see you fall apart.”

He presses his lips to your clit one last time and sucks, and it sends you reeling over the edge into bliss. Namjoon moans as he feels your cunt convulse and squeeze his fingers as if they’re his cock, and he nearly whines at how good it’s going to feel when he’s balls deep inside of you.

“Fuck!” You cry as your back lifts off the bed and your legs shake. “Oh, my god!”

Namjoon kitten licks at your pussy as you come down, cleaning up the juices that coat his fingers. He doesn’t break eye contact with you as he does it, sucking up your essence like it’s an expensive wine he won’t waste a drop of.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he says as you try to catch your breath. “I can’t wait to fuck you in my office.”

The smile on your face turns lustful as you spread your legs open once again and present yourself to him.

“Why don’t we practice right now?”

Namjoon grips the base of his cock and gives himself a few pumps as he stares at your gorgeous body—laid out and ready for him.

“Merry Christmas to me,” he murmurs as he presses a kiss to your lips and lines himself up.

In one swift motion, he slips inside your juicy channel and buries himself to the hilt. You’re so wet and warm and tight that Namjoon falters and groans out loud.

“Holy shit,” he cries. “Sweetest fucking pussy I’ve ever felt in my life.”

Namjoon filling you up to the brim is something you’ve only ever dreamt of, and now that it’s happening you feel intoxicated. He’s so thick inside you, stretching you past what you thought you could handle, and the burn is so sweet.

“Fuck me, Joon,” you beg as he continues to still inside you. “Please, fuck me, daddy.”

It’s the magic word for Namjoon and instantly he’s snapped back to feral, ready to claim you as his own. He grips your hips tightly as he pumps in and out of you, delighted by the squelching juicy sounds of your cunt as he takes you.

“That’s right, baby girl, I’m your fucking daddy,” he grunts. “Take this fat cock for daddy.”

Your legs quiver with each thrust and Namjoon sucks a nipple into his mouth, nibbling gently on the bud which makes your body thrum with electricity. He’s marking you, claiming you inside and out, you realize. You whine and keen for him to continue, and Namjoon growls as he doubles his pace.

He thrusts into you without abandon, desperately seeking his release that will have him spilling his cum anywhere he possibly can.

“Mmm, look at my pretty princess,” he groans as he stares at your blissed-out face. “Taking daddy’s cock so good, being a perfect little slut.”

His words make your eyes roll back into your head. You’d never had someone speak so nasty to you while being so kind and praise-worthy that you don’t think you can now ever live without it.

“G-gonna cum, daddy!” you cry as you feel your body nearing the edge. “Please let me cum!”

Namjoon gasps for air and drops a thumb to your clit to rub circles on the sensitive bundle.

“Yes, baby girl, cum for daddy. Cum on my cock, princess.”

Namjoon’s unrelenting pace and thumb handily stroking your clit brings you to the end, sending you screaming into orgasmic delight.

Namjoon nearly weeps at how good your cunt feels convulsing around his cock, walls coaxing him and gripping him tight as if your pussy is begging for his own release.

“Cum inside me daddy, please,” you beg as you try to catch your breath.

Namjoon needs no more permission. He gasps as your channel tightens around him impossibly and sends him into his own release. He whimpers as his cock pulses with ferocity, loads of cum splattering your walls.

He doesn’t pull out. Instead, he rests his sweaty forehead on yours as you both try to catch your breath.

“Holy shit,” you gasp as you feel yourself returning to Earth.

Namjoon laughs and presses a kiss to your lips, before nodding.

“Yeah,” is all he can manage.

After a few shuddering breaths, you wrap your arms around your boyfriend’s naked body and hold him close, as close as you can.

“If this is what Christmas is all about, sign me up.”

Namjoon buries his face into your neck and kisses you sweetly, before lifting and giving you a playful smile.

“I guess all Scrooge needed was a good fuck. Dickens got that part all wrong.”

Returning to work after the New Year was easier this year than it had ever been in your career.

Namjoon was given the promotion. He told Seokjin he wanted to keep his corner office near you because he “likes the view”, and that he would give all his top cases to the best lawyer in the office—you.

Jimin won’t stop screaming when he sees the diamond ring on your finger. You haven’t wanted to take it off since the moment you put it on. Maybe it’s not an engagement ring quite yet, maybe it’s just more of a promise. Either way, Jimin is ecstatic and confused as he shakes you down for answers.

He walks with you to your desk, chattering away about his week with Yoongi, while you sip your convenience store coffee.

“What the fuck?” Jimin asks as he notices something on your desk. “What is that?”

As you round the corner, your eyes catch sight of a gleaming silver contraption on your desk, right next to your brand new computer.

A Nespresso.

A smile crosses your lips as you approach the expensive machine and notice a folded up card on top.

Inside, the card is simple.

“To the only girl in the world who deserves a Nespresso. Love, Namjoon.”

taglist - @ardoren @devilion14 @bykookie @rageyoudamnednerd @holynamtiddies @thejooncrew @dee-ehn @yrc1963 @fireheart2003

#bts smut #bts fanfic #kim namjoon smut #rm smut #namjoon smut #ficswithluv #rockin around the christmas tropes #bts imagines #bts reactions #kim namjoon imagines

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seokahwrites · 3 years

Text

NUISANCE | chapter 1 (or, human walls and steak fungi)

5.8k

back to nuisance masterlist

pairing.

| lawyer! jeon jungkook x lawyer! reader (feat. ex! kim taehyung)

summary.

| all you wished for was a relaxing two weeks in a big ass boat eating some big ass shrimps, away from the real world. but instead you’re stuck with your arch rival with no means of escape — and goddamit why does the bastard smell so good

tags.

| the spice has commenced; POUTY JUNGKOOK???; hunky jungkook?; jungkook?; jungkook in a suit; a LOT of jungkook; pouty reader; stressed out reader; use of the words dick and cooch; use of the word satan (to refer to kim seokjin ofc); KIM SEOKJIN IS THE REAL MAIN CHAR; poor joon is a victim; JUNGKOOK WEARING EARRINGS AND BRACELETS; taehyung is nice (?) (¿question mark?)

a/n.

| this writing was sponsored by red bull, alcohol and fantasies of casual jungkook as well as jungkook in a suit. also, jungkook’s smile is described as tight lipped bc his signature smile appearing is important to the story. also i wanna know y’all’s thoughts on tae. BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY THANK U FOR THE COTINUOUS SUPPORT AND LOVE, I WILL CONTINUE TO GIVE MY BEST AND THANK U FOR READING MY STORY <333

Having once spent a sleepless night reading Dante’s inferno, you were well aware of the fact that there are 9 layers of hell.

Though, it seemed the old man had forgotten about the tenth circle: Anywhere with Jeon Jungkook.

Since the first time you met him, you never had any reason to believe that he was a humble character. He had always looked at you from the top of his high horse and he took much pride in trotting on it.

As you, Jungkook and the receptionist wait for the elevator, the air thick with discomfort, you look at the man in front of you and remember that first time.

Your head is invaded with the memory of you in your Hello Kitty pajamas, adorned with grease and all, as you worked on a divorce case that causes you migraines to this day — love is a bitter bitch. It must’ve been past midnight when you and Jin were chewing away pizza slice after pizza slice at the office.

Then, there’s a knock at the door.

“If that’s Namjoon I’m literally going to fire you,” you bark at Jin as you hold his leftover crust on one hand and a document on the other.

And Jin, being the smart ass he is and knowing you wouldn’t survive a day without him, gets up from your leather couch without a word and opens the door, launching himself at none other than Kim Namjoon.

You roll your eyes at the love birds while wondering when the fuck their honeymoon phase was gonna end. You were so sick of them.

“Y/N,” Jin calls you from your desk, urging you to come to the door and once you’re beside him, this time with a cup of coke in your hands, “Can you keep them entertained for a bit? I just gotta grab Namjoon’s meds.”

Before you could say no, the little devil was already running off to his own cubicle, leaving you alone with the all familiar Namjoon and a very much not familiar stranger.

You lean on the doorframe without uttering a single word, sipping on your drink as well as the stranger — Sure, looking back at the moment you kinda just wanna punch yourself in the cooch and tell yourself to get a grip, but you weren’t blinded with hatred at the time, and also not blind — because it isn’t every night that a man clad in a charcoal suit and an unbuttoned shirt, comes knocking at your door; not to mention his watch dazzled under the artificial light and he held the blue tie in his hand with just the right grip.

You’re snapped out of your daze when the man goes from checking the time to whispering something in Namjoon’s ear, covering it the same way eight year olds cover their own secrets, and he laughs. This would all be good and well if he hadn’t looked at you with such appall in his eyes the moment before, the look still clear as day in your mind.

You're reminded that your makeup was probably smudged from all the times you had rubbed your eyes, your skin oily from the tiresome day and you were wearing Hello Kitty pajamas.

Maybe you shouldn’t have taken the insult so personally, but you did.

“I’m here,” Jin is back, a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder as the other one passes him a lunchbox of cold medicines, “What did I miss?”

At this you look up from the pitiful ground, pulling Jin back to your office, and accidentally spill (or throw) your coke at the stranger. You watch in delight as he looks at his very expensive looking suit drenched in a sticky brown, utter terror in his eyes, inhaling the wonderful moment for a second before shutting the door in his face.

The consequences of your actions: an almost two-year long rivalry with the stranger, revealed to be Jeon Jungkook moments after the incident when Jin asked, “Did you just throw your drink at Namjoon’s boss, you crazy bitch?”

And that wave has rippled to this day, in the form of insults and high-school level teasing (if his brain had even evolved to that age). The words “I’ll have you all to myself’ comes to mind; it makes you puff with exasperation. Sure it comes off a little flirty to unknowing ears, but it was just another reminder of Jungkook’s dismay — and that he had an all new access to torture you.

You attempt to shake the ick from your body, but in a trice you found yourself in front of the suite, the four floors you travelled to get there seemingly a glitch in time.

Isabelle scans the room card in front of the handle, handing it over to Jungkook after the green beep. “This is your room!”

You shove Jungkook aside, pulling your trolley as you enter. You had seen the pictures before, but seeing the grand room before your eyes in all of its shades of brown and gray dispersed throughout the walls and furniture, the intricate branch of lights in the ceiling and the panoramic ocean view that gave it its name; it made you forgot who you were sharing it with for a moment.

When you turn around, Jungkook is as wide eyed as you, and it makes the corners of your mouth lift ever so slightly because he looks like a fucking dork.

“Well,” Isabelle is smiling and you could sense her relief of not having to deal with the two of you anymore, “If you need anything, me and the rest of the Royal Sunrise team are available at all times, have fun!”

And just like that, she made her escape, leaving you and Jungkook standing in the middle of the room, alone.

For a moment you shut your eyes as hard as you can, scrunching your face with your fists up, in hopes that a miracle happens and Jungkook disappears. You have been having some odd dreams lately, maybe this was just—

Nope. He’s still there.

Since his eyes seem to have wandered too far, you call out his name to bring him back to earth, crossing your arms when his gaze lands on you, “We should probably talk about a few things.”

He drops the backpack from his back as he nods.

“First of all, the sleeping situation—“

“Yeah, I already thought of that,” he walks to the (very cramped) couch on the other side of the room and pats the armrest, “I’ll take this wonderful bed.”

You look at him with quizzical eyes, wondering how the hell was he of all people going to fit there. But it wasn’t really of your concern if he wanted to get scoliosis, he had made his decision.

“Plus, you need beauty sleep much more than me.”

What a waste of oxygen.

You shrug off his words, immune to his childish remarks at this point, “Okay, then. Next on the list, eating arrangements.”

At this point he’s picking up his things and placing them in his territory, “Why is that on the list?”

You move closer to the windows, a little excited when you see the balcony — you would use it to either push your roommate into the cold ocean or catch up on a few books, tough choice. “Because the tables are arranged by rooms.”

You felt the confusion in his eyes poking at your back, so you turn, “That means that we need to share a table for the next few days, dipshit.”

Jungkook shakes his body in agony, throwing a tiny tantrum, “Why is that even a thing?” He whined.

When you feel a headache coming, you grab your own luggage and place it on top of the bed, opening it up and digging in the pockets for a little bit of liquid luck. God knew you needed it.

You down the sample of Jack Daniels in one go with a bitter face and a blow of air.

“Really?”

You start picking out your pajamas for the night, “I was saving it for when I’d find a hot stranger by the pool but—,” when you look up and see the mess on Jungkook’s couch, you’re taken aback, “What in the world is that?”

Jungkook’s hands are rummaging through the jungle that were his things, and it’s obvious that he just shoved as many clothes as he could find lying around the house. He grabs hold of a white tee, “What?”

Again, a waste of—

“WOAH, WOAH, WOAH.”

In the roll of an eye Jungkook’s torso is fully exposed, his back turned towards you with all of its bumps and mumps looking right at you. And you only become aware that you are staring when Jungkook notices the lack of a comeback, pointing it out with a smug tone.

“Y/N,” he doesn’t turn but he snaps you out of your stunned state all the same, “I can practically hear you drooling.”

At the very next instant you cover your eyes, just as little kids do when an inappropriate scene comes on the TV. “You wish, jackass,” and it comes off a little shoutier than you expected, as if the lack of visual correlated with the volume of your voice. Blindly, you grab your shirt and shorts from the bed and run to the bathroom, which just had to be on Jungkook’s side of the room.

And things take a turn for the worse when you run into something, and that something is warm and firm and breathing.

“Uh—.”

Pain.

You convince yourself it was just an invisible, Jungkook shaped wall they failed to mention on the website and fling yourself to the bathroom door, finding the handle rather quickly from all the adrenaline.

Once you’ve slammed the door shut, you let your back slide against the wooden slab and your ass hit the marble floor.

The clothes are still in your grip, your left hand feeling your overheating cheeks and for a tick you think that maybe, just maybe, you should throw yourself into the water and let the sharks take you so you could be buried at the very depths of the ocean. It seemed like a better fate than whatever the fuck was awaiting you the next two weeks.

You take a deep breath in, letting your mind focus on something else.

You look around and, oh, wow. Even the bathroom was charming — if you could ignore the absurd amount of windows, any sea creature passing by would surely see more than they should — glass making up all of the walls, including the shower’s.

The exposure that surrounds you, in its own weird way, cleared up your head the tiniest bit and for the first time since you’ve arrived, you were able to think, only the ocean and its blue around you now.

And what would be your first course of action after a glimpse of clarity?

Calling that rat bastard assistant of yours, of course.

You stand up and place your phone atop the hazel counter after clicking contact name ‘Twinky’, out of fear you’d smash the damn thing when you hear his voice, smoke was bursting at the seams of your chest. Prepare to meet your end, Kim Seokjin—

“Good evening, Ms. Y/N. For what reason are you contacting me in the midst of your vacation?”

Breathe in, breathe out. “Don’t get all formal with me, Kim,” you’re wagging your finger to no one, “I know you did something. Confess.”

The obnoxious twirling of Jin’s chair could be heard through the speaker, “I’ve no idea of what you could possibly be talking about, Madam—“

“Confess.”

“Fine, fine,” you could picture Jin putting his hands up at your murderous tone, “Me and Joon just thought it was about time you two kids got together.”

You take a pause from your pacing around. Motherfucker.

“Okay! I thought it was time and convinced Namjoon to go along with it,” your fist meets the counter with an audible thump, and you were seethed at the probability of Jin smiling at your behaviour. “Speaking of it, how’s it going?”

“Well, Jin,” you place the microphone as near to your mouth as possible, “JEON JUNGKOOK IS TAKING OFF HIS CLOTHES IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING ROOM,” you put on a docile face and naturally assume that Jin could see you telepathically, “So you tell me how it’s going.”

For the first time since you hired him, you had left Jin speechless. Or so you thought.

“I didn’t know you would move this fast—“

“Jin.”

“I apologise, I apologise,” the witch cackles, “But you didn’t give me any context, I only assumed the best.”

“Spare me from your taunts, you hag,” you huff and roll your eyes, “And, as I’ve told you many times before, Jeon Jungkook is literally the worst. I hate—.”

“—him. Yes, Y/N, I’ve been hearing the same speech every single day for two years,” you could hear Jin walking back and forth before an abrupt pause, “Listen to yourself, Y/N, you brought this upon yourself. Whenever you saw or just remembered Jungkook existed you wouldn’t stop talking about him. So, being the good friend I am, I handed you his—,” you rush in a failed attempt to muffle his next words with your hand, “—dick on a silver platter.”

Oh, dear lord.

“You’re out of your mind if you think I wanna be anywhere near Jungkook’s—,” you speak in a hushed tone, “—thing.”

“See, you can’t even say it,” and you give up, because no matter how many times you denied it, Jin never let up. “Anyway, I gotta go and… take a call. Have fun!”

And he hangs up.

All you can do is groan, making a mental note that you oughta kick Jin in the balls one of these days, and you look at yourself in the mirror — you couldn’t even enjoy your tacky shirt because of him. Was a normal vacation really too much to ask for?

You remember that the universe had already answered your question with a big yes, and you can’t help but pout.

Still, ever the changing mind, were you really going to let the universe win?

Your pout turns into a smirk. Of course, you weren’t. All you needed to do was avoid Jungkook as much as possible, that would be easy for sure, you were on a gigantic cruise ship after all.

Yeah, this can still be great.

And so, quick to think as always, you grab your phone and scroll through the Royal Sunrise website.

To your luck, the cruise offered classes and activities of all types with a different theme each day — tomorrow is cooking. Not only was it going to be actually entertaining, you could avoid Jungkook without having to look behind you every other minute.

Genius.

With this new mindset and plan, you change into your oversized navy shirt and banana-printed shorts, a newfound excitement in your step. You even bang your chest with each of your fists, a gorilla-esque fighting technique if you shall, as a way to pump you up.

The door doesn’t seem as intimidating when you push it open, your arms swinging at your side as if you were one of the seven dwarves. This was good.

Immediately you're met with the vexing view of Jungkook, and you quirk your eyes when you notice that all he was wearing was a pair of gray shorts and that white tee, the oddity of it all iffy in your head since you’ve only ever seen him in suits and shirts. There’s a familiar tingling of (what you always assumed was) contempt in your fingertips and toes, one that would only ever occur with Jungkook. Hatred finds a way, huh.

He looks at you, back to his phone and back to you all in one second, and once his brain processes that you’re back and present, he ditches his phone and props himself up on one elbow. “You know the walls aren’t that thick, right?”

The tingle turns into a twitch and you almost hit yourself. Breathe, Y/N.

Jungkook sits up, crossing his arms, his eyes wandering once again, “I knew that Namjoon was planning something. He was sweating so much, I thought it was just the heat,” and they land back on you, “Turns out, it was betrayal.”

You head to your own king-sized resting place and a chuckle slips out of you at Jungkook’s little remark. “You did hear that Jin was the one who dragged him into this, right?”

You’re both pulling your covers over your bodies with silent grins due to the dumbassery of your assistants, “I assumed as much.” At this, your smiles become full-out laughs and your heads must have been too exhausted to dwell on the out of character situation.

It fades after a few seconds and you take one final look at Jungkook before turning off the lights, only to make sure he was already laid down.

Your anxiety comes back to the surface, your eyes staring blankly ahead at the ceiling.

“What a mess,” you don’t even notice you had blurted it out loud.

The rustling of sheets sounds through the otherwise cricket-silent room, “Tell me about it.”

Another chuckle.

“Jungkook,” you call him, the words coming out with no warning, “Can we just promise, no monkey business? I just really wanna relax and—.”

“Y/N,” he stops you before you could yap any further, “No monkey business.”

His interruption makes you sheepish, that tingle coming back as you fiddle with the sheets.

All of the sudden, “Good night, Y/N.”

Silence.

“Don’t be a killjoy.”

Groan. There really isn’t any reason for you to answer the prick. Still, you roll your eyes, “Good night, you troll.”

You hear his pleased sigh.

“Kinda bummed you don’t want my thing, though.”

Damn you, Kim Seokjin.

Your eyes flutter open, not with the calming sound of the dancing waves or the rustling of the sheets beside you from a happy hour mistake, no. You wake up with the sound of the shower running, the drip drop of the water meeting the glass floor of the bathroom.

The walls are very thin.

The image of a very naked Jungkook just next door is forced into your head, and you try to get rid of it by putting a pillow over your face, in hopes that it would put an end to your misery, but the world only gives a hundred problems and zero solutions.

Sat up, you remind yourself of the fresh-new mindset you had implemented yesterday, and this motivates you to restart your morning right and get dressed for the busy day ahead.

You squat down to your bag, grabbing the first jumpsuit and shoes in front of you, surprisingly not too shabby. The black off-shoulder fabric was adorned with pale pink flowers and your basic white sneakers didn’t add much but they were still a welcome fit — you’d only brought three pairs of shoes, so you didn’t really have much of a choice.

The background noise of the shower running disappears.

Shit.

You stumble around the room, trying to switch out of your clothes as fast as you possibly could to avoid any of yesterday’s incidents repeating, the need of any sort of grooming forgotten along the way. Still, you succeeded, and just as Jungkook unlocked the bathroom door, you were out of the room.

The joy in your step was back as you took the few steps needed to the elevators, pressing that little button of victory. Though you’ve been to countless luxury premises, the details of each place still managed to leave you awestruck, and the black railing and golden walls of the ship with decoration clearly inspired by the Romans, weren’t an exception.

The elevator was going from the sixth floor to the fifth when you heard a door open, the hairs of your back standing up out of instinct.

“Wait up!”

Fuck me.

You turn to the left, met with the, once again, odd view of Jeon Jungkook wearing casual clothes, this time in a charcoal shirt a few sizes too big, black cargo pants and signature chunky shoes. But, there’s something even more strange and you can’t quite put a finger to it, it isn’t the fact his lavish watch was replaced with leather braids on his wrist or that his hairs strayed a bit more wildly, it’s—

“Holy shit,” your eyes shoot wide open, “Are those hoops?”

Your hands almost go to touch the silver in his ears, but you remind yourself you’d probably turn to stone.

An unfamiliar red paints Jungkook’s face as his own fingers prod at the earrings, his eyes not meeting yours, “Maybe.”

A gasp. “How did I never notice,” you state more than ask, but Jungkook answers all the same.

“I mean, I never wear them to anything work-related because keeping a professional image and all of that,” he looks at you, his bashfulness fading into an all-knowing smile, “And those are the only times I see your bitter face.”

You scoff, “Wow, actually we talked like normal people for a whole thirty seconds.”

The imp has the audacity to laugh at your face, the way he stops to scan you up and down going unnoticed by your sight. “I gotta say, Y/N, you actually know how to dress—“

Ding.

The black tinted doors open to the glass elevator, a panorama of all the ship’s floors in full display, blue and purple lights reflecting on the gilded ornaments. Your hands rest on the black railing and you don’t even notice there’s another person in the elevator.

“Y/N?” The deep timbre of the voice is all too easy on your ears.

A slight turn to the right is all it takes to see him, fluffy ash hair (that was rough between your fingers from all the times he had dyed it), a shirt that flowed like the clouds and beige slacks that matched with the sepia of his sandals (an ensemble that contrasted the vibrant version of him in your memory). But that square grin was still the same.

“Tae?” You laugh in utter disbelief, “Kim Taehyung?”

“Come here!” His long arms bring you into a hug and with your head nuzzled against his chest, his heartbeat echoed good times, easier times that weren’t filled with paperwork and suits.

It’s interrupted by your forgotten acquaintance clearing his throat.

You pull away, recomposing yourself as you stand beside Taehyung, “Jungkook, this is Kim Taehyung,” you feel Taehyung’s eyes on you, “He was kind of my college boyfriend.”

They shake hands and look back at you, as if waiting for something.

“Uh— Right. Tae, this is Jungkook, my—,” you glance at the brunet to find the right words, “—co-worker, of sorts.”

Your embarrassment only deepens when you remember that the Jeon Jungkook was a first-hand witness to the mess you were melting into in front of your ex-boyfriend.

Who needed caffeine when shit like this kept happening to you.

“Oh,” Taehyung’s voice drops an octave as he shoves his hands in his pockets, “So you two came together?”

And you wave your arms around to signal a ‘no’, but it comes off as ‘that-one-crackhead-at-the-corner-of-the-street-ish” instead. “God, no,” you snort, much to your chagrin.

Taehyung sticks his tongue between his teeth, staring down at Jungkook who was chewing on his own bottom lip, “That’s good to hear.”

It seems you’ve regressed to your college-self, tucking your hair behind your ear with blushed cheeks at your senior.

Ding.

The elevator had arrived at the first floor, Jungkook’s cue to leave.

But he doesn’t make a straight itinerary, instead standing in front of the elevator, “Aren’t you gonna catch breakfast, chump?”

Ah, right. Your genius plan could finally come out in the open, “No, actually. I have an all-day cooking class on the 5th floor.”

“No kidding,” Taehyung turns to you and places a hand on your bare shoulder with a wide smile, “Me too!”

At this, Jungkook’s shoulders slump and his expression falls flat, but you couldn’t get a word in as the elevator doors closed and he swiveled away to his own day.

Eh, it’s not like it was your affair anyways. Plus, 9AM wasn’t the hour to deal with his bullshit.

You and Taehyung made your way up, speaking of all the things you’ve been up to for the past three years.

“So, Jimin’s dancing in Europe,” you gasp, a swell of pride in your chest, your old friend would talk about it every free night he spent in yours and Taehyung’s flat.

“Yeah, now I don’t know who’s keeping an eye on all the dumb shit he does.”

The weight on your shoulders only got lighter with every laugh you shared with Taehyung, sweet nostalgia.

“We’re here,” you point at the chalk sign, the words ‘Bon Appetit’ scribbled on it.

Out of sheer intuition, you pull Taehyung by the wrist until you reach the entrance, a Royal Sunrise worker awaiting with a list of, what could only be, the names of the participants.

You let go of Taehyung when the man’s eyes travel to your holding hands. Oh, God.

He smiles, “Good morning, Mr. and Ms. What would your names be?”

“Good morning, I’m Y/N Y/LN,” your smile hadn’t left your face, “I signed up yesterday.”

He nods and you walk inside, Taehyung following you before the worker puts up a hand to stop him.

“Your name, sir,” his tone changes..

You look back, wondering what the fuss was about.

“Uh— Kim Taehyung.”

The man reads over the clipboard, even flipping to the previous pages. “Excuse me, Mr. Kim. But your name doesn’t seem to be in the—.”

Taehyung’s calm demeanour becomes a bitter scowl as he pats a fifty dollar note down the man’s pocket before he could continue his speech. “Just let this one slide, buddy.”

The sight is a bit rough on the eyes and the corners of your lips turn downwards, something itching at your throat, but you hadn’t seen him in a long time and he most likely had good intentions with the man, you could let it slide, right?

“So,” Taehyung rubs his hands with a smile that reaches the pillows of his eyes, a 360° from the him you saw a few seconds ago, “Where were we?”

The blue of the sky had faded into a deep lilac once you and Taehyung were finished with your last batch of food.

You stood outside with smiles plastered on your faces and flour sprinkled on your hair, reminders of a day well-spent.

“This was great,” you held boxes of chocolate crepes and mushroom pasta, “Except for the fact I was forced to eat and deal with mushrooms.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows pull together, “So many years together, and I didn’t know you hated mushrooms,” you remember telling him countless times, but he never had the best memory — you don’t bother to bring up your hatred for crepes. “But, yeah… I think it was the company that sealed the deal, though.”

A beat of silence. The boy was smooth as ever.

You’re the first to break it. “I guess I’ll go get dinner then.”

“Right, right,” he purses his lips, “I’m gonna catch a nightcap, too full for food anyways. See you, Y/N.”

And you only mumble a small goodbye before you and Taehyung are going different directions.

A day well spent indeed.

Grumble.

You couldn’t keep it in anymore.

Holy Moses, were you hungry as shit. Who knew that barely eating breakfast and lunch could do this to a person.

Once the coast is clear, you run to the elevator, pressing the button repeatedly because why is this thing so fucking slow.

The time taken to go down to the first floor is even more agonising, but you just imagined the wonderful meals that actually tasted like food waiting for you downstairs. You could feel the pork melting in your mouth already.

Ding.

Since the first floor is more packed, you pace yourself as you power-walk to the dining area but you arrive in no time, walking through the tables and scanning each marker for the number 83, until you finally find your salvation — and the mop of brown hair sitting there with its unmistakable silver.

You park your ass on the wooden chair and place the white boxes of gag-worthy food on the table.

“Fancy meeting you here, Y/N,” Jungkook shoves a fork of rare steak and potatoes in his big mouth.

“Don’t antagonise me, Jungkook,” you leap to grab his wrist before he can get another scoop, “Where’s the food?”

You feel him tense under your grip, “Okay, let go of me, hungry hungry hippo,” you loosen your fist and lean back on your chair with crossed arms, “And the restaurant is out of steaks for the night, your only other option is some fried fish or something,” he continues munching.

“No—,” your head meets the table with a bang, “—I’ve been dreaming of red meat all day.”

“Didn’t you cook at— you know, cooking class?”

“Yes, we did,” you sit up and shove the boxes of trash to Jungkook as he examines them.

“But, you hate mushrooms and crepes,” he turns his head in a robotic motion when he opens the lids.

Your hunger fades for a bit as that tingle in your fingertips pushes you to sit straight, leaning your head like a curious puppy.

“How do you know that?”

Jungkook bites his bottom lip as he seems to think of a response. “Well, you mentioned it at the Law & Practice Awards a few months ago,” he rubs his fingers on his chin with a feign look of concentration, “I believe your exact words were: ‘Why does the stake have fungus on it’ and ‘Everybody knows that crepes are just a—.”

“—a cheap version of pancakes,” you finish his sentence with surprise painted on your face. Still, you question him, “But, how do you even remember that?”

Jungkook’s flush is back on his cheeks, “As they say, keep your friends close,” he flashes that tight lipped smile of his, “And your enemies closer.”

Just as you were about to flip the fucker off, your stomach grumbles. Out of all of the moments it could’ve complained, it decided to do so in the only second of silence.

Jungkook mumbled something along the lines of “That’s it,” under his breath and let out a sharp exhale, cutting up his steak and taters and pushing them into a smaller plate, adding a few greens in the mix. He snaps his fingers at the nearest waiter and grabs a glass of wine from his tray. The act finishes off with him pushing the food in your direction.

You stare at the food, at Jungkook and back at the plate again. Dumbfounded, once again.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Eat,” he continues on with his dinner as if he hadn’t just done— Well, what he just did.

You bite your lip and bow your head slightly, though you’re sure he doesn’t see it, before vacuuming the food directly into your belly.

The rest of the evening is spent in comfortable silence, no daggers threatened to be thrown or scorn weighing in the air. This lasts all the way to the door of the room; you were fine with communicating with only ‘hums’ and nods but Jungkook, as always, had to ruin things.

He leans his back against the white door, arms crossed and a smirk as he looks down at you. “How lucky of you to have your mortal enemy and—,” he puts up air quotes, “‘kind of college boyfriend’ in the same boat as you, huh?”

You palm your face and hide a sheepish smile, “I was hoping you’d forget about that.”

“How could I when I was your special guest to first hand embarrassment in the elevator,” he waves the white flag of peace as he puts his hands up, “But, hey—“

“Hi, Jungkook,” someone behind you purrs, heels clacking.

You turn around and see a woman of jet-black hair in a stunning red silk dress, the pony-tail on her head swinging a delicate left to right as she waved her manicured hand at none other than Jungkook — who brushes a hand through his hair before complimenting her greeting.

It takes you by surprise, though you laughed at Jungkook’s gnarly stance at the beautiful woman, the tingle comes back, this time prickling at the pit of your stomach.

As soon as she had walked away, you rubbed your hands at the sides of your arms, “Wow, Jungkook. Moving fast are we?” you squint your eyes, “I think it’s the earring.”

“First of all, screw you,” he unlocks the door, “Second, that’s nothing, trust me.”

He holds the door open for you and you catch a whiff of his black vanilla scent. You stop in your tracks and place a hand on his shoulder with a grimace on your face, “Just don’t do anything on my bed, okay?”

You don’t bother to wait for an answer as you head to the bathroom with your comfy tee in your hands.

This time, the counter was embellished with skincare and cologne galore, all thanks to your dear roommate.

“He wouldn’t notice if I used some of this, right?” You say to Jungkook’s bottle of cleanser, too lazy to go back and grab your own toiletries.

“If you use that I’m drowning myself,” you hear him shout from the other room.

Sorry, face. You’ll have to wait for tomorrow.

Once you were snug in your tee, you were off to bed — Jungkook in the same attire as yesterday as well.

You leave the lamp on as you checked your phone for the first time since yesterday. Of course, Jin was your only notification, a plethora of obscenities and questions that would, unfortunately, be permanently ingrained in your mind forever. You turn off your phone and throw it on top of the night stand.

Not today, satan.

“You mind?” You ask Jungkook who seemed to be scrolling away, too engrossed in his phone to look at your finger pointing at the light, only a grunt on his behalf.

You turn it off and shut your eyes, your body tense, not that you weren’t used to it, the decaying muscles of your back have been like that since you graduated high-school. And, it was a bit more intense from all the mixing and pot handling — thank the heavens that tomorrow’s activities involved massaging. Though, today was a win.

Jungkook’s phone turns off and his body sloshes around, the sounds he makes the only ones reverberating in the room.

“Good night, Y/N,” you try to ignore him, but he comes forward with a good case, “Come on, I gave you my food.”

Guilt tripper.

“Fine, but only because you’re annoying as shit,” he lets out a satisfied breath, “Good night, Jungkook.”

You arrive at dreamland in no time.

taglist. (open)

| @fangirl125reader / @vantxx95 / @jinpanman / @ggukkieland / @miniiimee / @paizthemaiz

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ktheist · 4 years

Text

(why) we got married | m

synopsis. they say the 7th year of your marriage is always an uphill battle - but with the existence of your prenup coming to light thanks to taehyung’s lawyer slash family friend’s slip of tongue - first it reached your and his families, and then your family’s close friends and then your family’s close friends’ friends until - almost everyone is speculating on the grounds of you and taehyung’s marriage being anything but love.

you’re not sure if you’re even going to make past the second year mark in your marriage. but is the reason you got married really as important as why you choose to stay or leave?

muses. chairman!taehyung x stewardess!reader

alternative title. as you are.

inspired by. the 1 by taylor swift

genre. arranged marriage au with a pinch of drama and angst

words. 12.5k

warnings. explicit content

verse. knj. ksj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs. story time.

in your defense, neither you nor taehyung made an elaborated plan to deceive both his family and yours with the marriage which yes, had been founded upon a contract. but that’s not the point - the point is, your father and brother never sat down with taehyung and had a man-to-man talk. and his mother never sniffed out your reason for marrying her son being his abundance of wealth. but when all comes to light, thanks to taehyung’s lawyer slash family friend who made a slip of tongue - your parents and his were the ones most vindictive about who’s digging whose gold.

and to be completely frank, you were one article away from calling up your mother and telling her that you seduced taehyung into marrying you - just so she’d stop baring her fangs at mrs. kim. these days the headlines keep blowing up your mother and mrs. kim’s completely-by-chance meeting at a five star restaurant that erupted into manic yelling and pointing fingers.

“what did you say, you-” the audio bleeps for a split second before your mother in law’s voice comes back on, “-it was your daughter that seduced my son!”

“you crazy-” the audio bleeps again, “-you better watch your mouth or i’ll-”

the remaining seconds of the video are filled with bleeps that make it hard to even understand what either woman was saying. a wave of regret floods your chest as you scroll down the words strewn out into a juicy, tea-spilling commentary on your and taehyung’s past - the writer seems to pick up the minor little details that, in hindsight, leaves a big fat question mark out in the open.

when exactly did ___ ___ and kim taehyung start dating?

the answer was never.

the two times you and taehyung were photographed together was at a cafe near your office and the other, near his penthouse wherein you were discussing the terms of the contracts by yourselves. the one near taehyung’s penthouse being the final stage where you both signed it on your ipads. to the naked eye, you probably looked like you were on a date and being young professionals, it was only a given that both of you had some sort of electronic on you at all times - even during dates.

everyone just assumed you were together and with the assumption of being together, comes the conclusion that you were deeply, madly in love. was it the way the picture caught you two looking at each other with smiles on your faces? was it it’s sister picture that stilled you in a frame where you’re looking at your ipad and taehyung looking at you with the same - possibly remaining - smile from the moment the first picture was taken? that, you will never know.

but so it goes, you started going to socials together because taehyung needed some cleansing from his... charm-filled past. he used to go to those with different partners each week, and the previous woman that went with him always ended up refusing to talk about it or boasting about her ‘relationship’ with him. that was of course, after yoo now-kim jeongyeon got married three years ago. he used to attend those socials with her for the most part.

but someway, somehow, his public record was clean of any drama.

you would know, you’ve seen the man in action with your very eyes. on your 7th social event together, son chaeyoung had marched up to you and him like a ticking time bomb, red-faced and flaring nostrils and all. you were about ready to stand your ground when taehyung softly touched your hand that was around his arm and asked if you minded if he left for some fresh air.

of course you didn’t - respectfully, you couldn’t care less what taehyung does as long as it didn’t bring a negative light to you and him and the dynasties you both carried over your shoulders. everyone had their eyes wide open and ears perked for what was to come when taehyung walked chaeyoung out to the hallway. but nothing happened, and you were left to mingle on your own until he returned, looking devilishly handsome as always and strutted up to you with an air of refined sureness.

chaeyoung didn’t come back with him but everything remained quiet - not even a dramatic “stay away from my man!” at any point of your contract. you never asked how he did it - you thought it involved money, but over time, you realized it was just kim taehyung and all the things that made those women attracted to him. and just like a flame, he’d burned the moths’ wings until they couldn’t flutter over to him anymore after your wedding.

“uh, miss, we’re here,” the driver calls, meeting your eyes through the rear-view mirror.

it takes you a few moments to close the cover of your ipad and shove it into your handbag before pulling out bills that’s worth more than your car ride, “thanks, keep the change.”

and with that, you hop out of the cab, ready to put on a facade of grace and confidence. the staff who knows you greets you with a range of emotions, some with unhinged admiration from day one, others with curiosity on what’s truly hidden beneath those darken ray bans - without a doubt, aware of the drama going on between their boss’ mother and their boss’ wife’s mother.

either way, you make sure to return each smile and greeting like you always do. red lips sewn across your face like an ever smiling doll.

it’s only once you’ve entered the elevator and luckily left to your own devices, do you let your shoulder sag, the smile downturned into a frown all the way until a ding echoes into the small compartment and a red ‘8′ flashes on top of the doors.

you don’t fail to fix the secretaries a smile, relief flooding over you at how their warm - or was it profession-required - greeting hasn’t changed even after the rumors spreading about your inevitable divorce - of course, purported by you and taehyung’s mothers.

“son, if you don’t divorce that woman right away, i-i,” and here you see for yourself, the woman who called you ‘my daughter’ with the most loving voice, stuttering into a fit of rage, “i don’t think i can face my friends anymore - that bitch jihye has been slandering our family saying you used her daughter to get hold of the company!”

mina is about to knock on the door and announce your arrival when you hold a hand up before placing an index finger to your lips. she doesn’t need to be told twice when she nods once and steps back to leave you eavesdropping on your mother in law and husband.

“that’s fair,” there isn’t even a stuttered beat in his response.

“what-”

“that’s part of the reason we got married,” he goes on, “and ___ needs some help setting up her brother with some connection so it works out - and mom, please refer to ___ and mrs. jeon by their names, ___ is still my wife and mrs. jeon is the woman who raised her.”

“y-you-” mrs. kim stutters out in disbelief just when you decide to make your presence known, hand on the door, “you ungrateful child, oh my- oh my-!” you walk into the sight of the woman falling backwards with mr. ji the kims’ lawyer stretching his arms out to catch her, shouting “madam!” while taehyung launching himself across the room, “mom!”

mrs. kim ends up hospitalized.

“it was a case of stress and overworking that should go away with a good few days’ break,” chairman kim who also opts to assume his seat as part of the hospital’s doctor and a family friend of taehyung’s, fixes you with a reassuring smile.

the stethoscope and white robe gives off a more professional vibe than the sophisticated air you see him wear at family dinners.

“that’s a relief - it’s nothing life-threatening,” the smile you return doesn’t seem to sit right with him as his eyebrows knit together and a cloud seem to loom over his face.

“it’s really not in my place but,” he pauses, probably weighing out the pros and cons of offending you with what he’s about to say - but he doesn’t need to worry too much because after today, you probably won’t be seeing each other at dinners any time soon, “me and jeongyeon,” he means his wife and taehyung’s childhood friend, “are here for you if you need to talk - i know mrs. kim can be a little unreasonable at times, but give her some time. don’t give up on her.”

you nod once, murmuring a hollow ‘thanks for that, seokjin’ before watching the man strut down the hallway, the sound of his footsteps accompanying his leave. only when you’re left with the sound of your breathing, do you finally allow chairman kim’s words to sink into the deepest depth of your heart.

it’s not an easy task to keep your heart still and unbothered by your own mother in law’s words. even now, you can still hear her embellishing her headache, back ache, joint pains and every sort of non-fatal pains she has enough to get taehyung to stay by her bedside - so he doesn’t go home. doesn’t go back to the place where you two have built for yourselves.

and yet you can’t help but agree that - “if you’d divorced her just like i told you, i wouldn’t have fallen so ill!” she sighs, just as you’re about to slide the door open.

all of a sudden, the image of the delicate woman swaying and tumbling towards the ground flashes at the back of your head and you instantly recoil, as if the door was made from fire.

the fear of worsening mrs. kim’s health at the sight of you has you backing away, choosing to wait at the seat in the hallway instead. seconds stretch into minutes and minutes into hours until you feel your body being shaken.

your eyes which you never noticed fluttered close - snap open only to gaze at the face of an angel - a concerned one at that judging from the way his eyebrows knit together. and then you’re hearing the smooth baritone of his voice. you almost pulled out your phone from your purse to ask if you could have it recorded so you could listen to it as a lullaby.

that is, until you realize the angel’s disheveled wavy hair and eyes that look like they’re well on their way to falling asleep standing.

“taehyung,” the name slips out of your mouth with a surprised gasp as you note the pristine pastel background of the vip section, body jolting to sit up from your previously slumping position.

“have you been waiting all this time?” he takes a seat next to you - and only then do you notice the unkempt mess that he is.

the first few buttons of his shirt is undone whilst it hangs over his shoulders, untucked, tie hanging loose over his chest as he drapes his blazer over his arm. the sight is almost alien, especially coming from someone who can’t even stand a crease in his shirt.

“what time is it?” you wonder, reaching for your phone while he checks the rolex on his wrist - which proves to be faster than rummaging through your bag.

“seven-thirty - you’ve been waiting here for more than five hours,” and just your luck, right as the words hit the air, your stomach decides to remind you of the meal you’re about to miss if you stay here any longer.

the heat rushing to your cheeks a second later is immeasurably hot, “o-oh, okay.”

clearing your throat, you ask, “so how was mother? seokjin already told me but i wanted to hear it from you that she’s okay.”

“you know how mom is - keeps saying her head hurts from the fall even though mr. ji managed to catch her halfway,” in any other circumstances, you and him would have found humor in how your mother in law’s overembellished diagnosis to gain attention from you and taehyung - but this time, it’s only one of you she wants that from.

it doesn’t stop you from chuckling though, “it sounds just like her - maybe i should make some ginseng chicken soup to help her get better... or beef seaweed, you know, her...”

swallowing the lump in your throat is a feat - and unfortunately, you’ve failed terribly as taehyung gather you his arms.

only then, do you realize you’re sobbing like a child, emotions running wild as everything comes crashing in like a storm - his mother, your family, the whole fucking tabloids that’s being written and ready to be posted in the next few hours and the fact that the marriage may have been a fraud, but the bonds you made along the way had been more than just business. mrs. kim was a mother to you as much as yours is to taehyung. there may have not been any love between you two but you cherish his family like he cherishes yours.

“i’m sorry - for causing a- a scene - for causing mother to f-faint-” you weep and weep.

in your crying fit, you barely notice the way his arms tighten just the tiniest bit as he sways you left to right gently, one hand on the back of your head caressing your hair as he whispers something along the lines of “it’s not your fault” and “we’ll figure it out together.”

and so for the nth time in your one year of marriage, you’re banding together to capture mrs. kim’s heart again. the first time you visited her with taehyung, she narrowed her eyes at you and demanded taehyung explain as to why he didn’t come alone through the very same eyes next second.

when the man pretended not to notice and even placed a hand on your lower back just as your steps faltered in a ‘i’m with you’ kind of way, she opted to stare out the window while you unpack the broth you made onto the table. the portion you poured into the bowl you brought was getting colder by the minute as you spoke to her, “mother, i made beef seaweed soup, it’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

the only indication that she was listening was the way her eyes scanned the bowl of broth in front of her and proceeded to keep them on the window until you had to leave.

and so goes your second and third visits being received with shoulders made of ice a kind of silence that never fails to make your stomach churn with a sort of nervousness you should have felt when you meet your future husband’s parents for the first time. but the first time you met mrs. kim, your chest was filled with nothing short confidence and woo her you did along with taehyung’s relatives and closed friends. at the time, you didn’t think what you were doing - fooling everyone into believing that you’re marrying each other for love - would come biting you in the ass.

if karma existed then this probably you getting what you deserved.

on your fouth visit, you’d come alone because taehyung had an urgent meeting to attend. mrs. kim spared you a once over just like a rabbit who voluntarily and follishly hopped into the lion’s den.

“mother,” you offer her a smile, “how are you feeling?”

when silence is the only response you get, you quickly rummage through the paper bag you’d brought with you, “have you eaten? i made chicken soup-”

“don’t bother,” her voice cuts through the air like a blade. eyes as piercing as spears, “sit down, i know taehyung has an urgent meeting - it’s the only way to get him off my back.”

you’re not quite sure what she means but you have an inkling that the reason her hostility has yet to reach its pique is because taehyung has been giving her subtle looks to ‘mom, be nice to my wife’.

with a nod and a smile that seems to be glued to your face, you ask, “how was the bibimbap yesterday?”

though she didn’t cut you off, her response doesn’t exactly shed hope to your efforts being paid off when she dismissively says, “i gave it to mr. ji.”

the immediate ‘oh’ that tumbles out of your mouth is purely reflexive even though you know she’s never touched the meals you packed for her. but having her admit it is a different kind of heartbreak.

“i see,” is all you can say as you feel tears prick your waterline, a lump in your throat.

“this,” she places a folder of documents she seems to have ready by her bedside into your hands and without any explanation, sends you off with, “if you have any conscience at all, you’d sign these papers and stay out of our lives. even though i never read the contract but i’m sure a smart woman such as yourself would’ve thought to include the alimony as well - you understand what i’m saying right?”

you tried to say something - anything but at that point, the look in her eye already paints a picture of you clinging onto taehyung’s wealth. and yet you still tried, “m-mother, i-...”

but no words come out and as though her point had been proven, she’d huffed out a sigh and tuned you out like she always did on your previous visits.

so you walked down the hallway with shades covering your tear stained eyes and a skip to your step that oh-so-badly wishes to break into an unceremonious run to a place where nobody knows you. where nobody looks at you with rounded eyes for the briefest moment that easily translates to mrs. kim ___, wife of kadore’s chairman who married her husband for money.

but all you can afford to do is keep your head up until you reached the bathroom door, check each stall one by one to make sure no one’s inside before you finally set down the document and your handbag on the sink. the first sob hits the air as soon as you see the woman in the reflection’s reddening eyes and smudged makeup.

it takes you several breath-holding, eyes-shutting and a couple more sobs breaking through the cracks of your walls before you can finally pat some powder onto the patch of skin under your eyes and on your cheeks where most of the damage was done. by the time you’re back in the hallway with shades darker than the night sky, you find your feet melting and becoming one with the floor at the sight of a man with jet black hair standing at the reception.

and almost as though sensing the heat of your gaze through your ray bans, the man turns around to reveal a pair of doe brown eyes and the smile you’re so used to seeing now missing in action and replaced with a straight line.

“jungkook...”

“how’d you know i’d be here?” you start once you’ve both placed an order for your drinks at the counter.

“how long are you going to keep doing this?” instead of answering your question with a real answer, jungkook heaves out a sigh, eyebrows knitting together in vexation as he fixes you with one of those ‘i’m not telling mom and dad but this is our problem now’ kind of look.

“how ever long it takes,” is all you say, reverting your gaze to the smooth surface of the table.

“are those the divorce papers?” you refuse to look at him but you know he’s burning holes inside the beige colored folder sitting underneath your handbag on the seat between you and him.

“i don’t know,” you shrug, shoulders squared as you meet his eyes through your shades, “i haven’t opened it yet.”

but jungkook being jungkook, he takes that as a bare affirmation, choosing to interrogate you on a different topic, “have you seen what people have been saying about you?"

“i don’t really care about what people say,” is all you have to offer.

“you haven’t,” he nods in conclusion, “they’re saying you can’t have enough of your husband’s money... they’re saying you’re coming here everyday to grovel over his mother’s feet to let you stay married - that’s how i know you’d be here. and judging from the looks of it, they’re not too far off.”

it takes you a good solid minute to stomach the new found information. you haven’t been checking social media because of those same exact malicious comments but that was just the beginning of a downward spiral of your reputation - you never thought your efforts and hard work of burning your fingers on hot stoves and redoing dishes to get a perfect one would be met with an assumption of groveling over mrs. kim’s feet all for your husband’s money.

“god, i need a smoke,” jungkook huffs, receiving a look from the waiter that’s setting your drinks down. only after she’s gone does he present you with another set of questions. “was he the one that paid off dad’s debts? all of them? even the loan sharks?”

“that...” you nod once, failing to keep your head high as you twirl the straw of your frappe around but don’t even take a sip, “and the money i said i had saved up and lent you to start your company,” you quickly add,“- but taehyung doesn’t care about that - he wouldn’t accept it even if you wanted to pay him back twice the amount.”

“then why are you...” it’s the way his voice breaks at the end that makes you look up only to see a man whose eyes are a little sunken and cheeks a little hollow - almost as if he hasn’t been sleeping nor eating well because of his foolish sister, “why are you letting that woman trample all over you like this? wouldn’t it be easier to just get a divorce-”

“that woman is my mother in law, jungkook. at least, practice the same level of respect you’ve been preaching about,” you speak over him - it’s funny how taehyung once stood up against the same woman you’re standing up for, for you.

when all that follows is silence, you go on. this time, in a much demurred tone, “and it’s not about letting myself get trampled over... if mom found out you lied about something and she’s acting like mother does because she’s hurt, would you just go on with your life like nothing happened?”

it takes a moment for him to register what you said before taking on a much less hostile tone though still just as firm, “___, this is your life... i don’t know what kind of ‘happy family’ delusion you’ve been living in but i’m willing to bet all my money that it’s not taehyung that gave you those papers to sign and made you cry in the bathroom stall for thirty minutes-” he throws you look, “yeah, i saw you go into the washroom after coming out of her room. i was gonna call you but you looked like you had to take a huge dump so i waited but we know that’s not the case now.”

silence lapses between you for the umpteenth time before you stubbornly announce, “i could’ve been taking a dump - you don’t know.”

the sight of jungkook’s jaw dropping and hitting the ground is laughable, if not for the fact that he’s shaking his head five seconds later. vexed. irritated, “this is getting ridiculous - we’re going home. now.”

and he doesn’t mean the penthouse that you and taehyung shares.

shooting up, his hand grasps your wrist and he would have dragged you all the way to the car if you hadn’t protested.

“jungkook, no - i’m not going anywhere,” pulling your hand back, you stand a good one head shorter in front of your brother which doesn’t do much for your cause.

“___, if not for you then do it for mom and dad - they’re getting too old to be worrying about their one and only daughter’s marriage prospect,” he tries to coax, knowing full well your heart would wither like a flower at the mention of your parents worrisome nature - especially when your business is out in the open no matter how hard you try to hide it, “and you haven’t been answering their calls either.”

“i know, i just-” before you can even finish your sentence, a flash of garnet and bridal pink catches your eyes.

“____... jungkook, i didn’t think you’d be in korea. how are you?” taehyung’s warm baritone is laced with confusion as he stares at your brother and then at you for a sort of explanation but before you can even open your mouth, jungkook’s already has his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, “yeah, well someone’s gotta clean up the mess you started. ___’s coming back home with me - back to her real home.”

“i’m not - stop saying that and let me go,” you tug on your wrist only to wince at the pressure of his grasp, “jungkook, you’re hurting me!”

“hey, let my wife go,” taehyung takes a peaceful step forward, “we can talk ab-”

“oh no,” the laugh tumbling out of jungkook’s mouth drips with malice, “no, see, you lost your knight in shining armor privilege after you quite literally lied to our faces about how you’ll take care of my sister until ‘death do you apart’ when all it took was mommy dearest pretending to get sick while everyone labels my sister a gold-digging wh-”

you taking a step forward with a balled fist, is completely instinctive and you would say taehyung prancing towards the dark haired man with a fist that actually hits the mark, was also instinct-driven. except that he probably has better aim and his punches hurt more than yours ever would.

the first one, you admit was satisfying but when your brother ends up on the ground with your husband throwing blow after blow, you have no choice but to intervene.

“taehyung, stop!” the shriek that echoes against the walls almost burst your eardrums. you would have believed it to be mrs. kim if not for the fact that she’s nowhere in sight and you’re the one with your hands grasping onto your husband’s arms, trying to hold him back from sending blow after blow onto your brother’s half-conscious face.

“taehyung, don’t stop,” you frown, taking a seat next to him while swiping the ice bag off his lap before gently pressing it to his darkened jawline, “seokjin said to keep the ice on the bruise for at least an hour.”

“ahhh - ow - ow-!” the man whines, eyes screwed shut as his grits his teeth together but doesn’t recoil from your touch.

“maybe you should’ve thought twice about throwing a punch at a trained boxer,” you shake your head, lips curling into an inevitable smile.

after taehyung’s had a round of punches in, jungkook managed to flip them over so that he’s the one pinning the elder man down. the events that unfolded after that were the least bit pretty. the nurses and doctors attending nearby patients rushed to the two struggling men and then there’s you, shifting the shouting to your brother to “god damn it, jungkook! stop being a dick!”

it took five men - doctors and just-arrived guards alike - to pry your brother off your husband who still tried to get a punch in and was held back by seokjin who finally arrived at the scenes with half a mind to knock the both of them out as he calmly orders for jungkook to be dragged into one of those empty rooms akin to the one mrs. kim is staying at.

because taehyung was the one who started the fight, seokjin decided that an ice pack would do for the taller man whilst he treats jungkook and orders the other doctors to go back to their post.

picking up the mixture of garnet and bridal pink roses, he stares at their wilted petals for the longest moment, face painted with dejection. they must have been specifically ordered for mrs. kim-

“these are for you,” your train of thoughts halts in its track at taehyung’s words. his hand levitating midair as though unsure of whether to hand the bouquet to you or toss them away, “or were,” then he captures your gaze and you don’t think you can ever find your way out of the maze he’s able to hold you captive in with just his eyes, “you deserve fresh flowers specifically plucked from its stalk - you deserve a whole garden, actually-”

“taehyung,” your free hand covers his as if to say, “they’re lovely, thank you.” placing the ice pack down, you cup both hands around the flowers, bringing them to your nose, “and they smell wonderful - i love pink roses.”

“i know,” the tiniest smile peeks from his lips, “you told me that.”

“i did?” you blink, surprised.

“at our wedding reception, you got a little tipsy and started sobbing because the roses were blush pink and not bridal pink,” the sound of his chuckles drums in your ears like hymns just like it did a year ago.

back when you were decked in an elegant off shoulder white gown after changing out of your wedding dress. you’d stood in the sidelines while your families and friends danced to their hearts’ content to the sound of the music. white champagne in your hand, the background beginning to turn fuzzy and your thoughts began to get louder.

it didn’t help that the object of your frustrations was smack dab covering every inch of the vicinity from the gargantuan rose covered backdrop, to the tiny vases in every single table.

the sob hits the air like the first raindrop. you had to clasp your hand to your mouth as if you were about to cough to hide your mouth stretching into your crying mouth - you don’t know how to explain it but your lips tend to morph into an unshapely sight whenever you cry and covering it when you feel the waterworks coming has always been second nature. as for the tears - they were concealable because the lights were dim enough.

but then there was someone next to you - he just popped up out of nowhere really and because you were standing in the darkest corner, you couldn’t pick out any defining features besides his height but you didn’t have much time to ponder on that as his question fills your eardrums, “so, how does saying goodbye to the bachelorette life feels like?”

“it’s terrible,” you’d wept some more and he shifted on his feet slightly, as though noticing the tear in your voice but luckily for him, he didn’t even have to ask because you were spilling your innermost thoughts out loud, “they- they gave me blush pink and garnet roses- i want bridal pink and garnet roses.”

“oh,” distinctively rang in your ears among the sound of instruments and joyful laughter.

then comes another input, “i didn’t know they messed up your request,” and you didn’t know why he’d sounded like he was about to murder someone.

“yeah and,” you sniffle, “- and i didn’t wanna say anything because- because i don’t wanna be that bratty bride who picks on every little detail.”

that morning, you woke up to a box full of roses and they were the lightest shade of pink. taehyung was already awake and offered to ring up breakfast for the both of you after he’d bid you a good morning and a “something came in for you.”

the gifts were prearranged to be sent to the penthouse instead of your suite but then again, there were chocolates and champagne bottles that made past the hotel doors because of its edible nature - the roses too... their fleeting livelihood seemed like you’d enjoy them better in your hotel room than a week later after you’d come back from your honeymoon.

the card didn’t even leave initials but had ‘roses for a rose’ playfully written in cursive black ink. your heart blooms a garden but your head is what makes you search for your newly wed husband, only to see him looking at you with a tender smile - one that you thought manifested because of your own involuntary smile when you’d read the note.

“i don’t think these are for us,” you could feel the frown setting into your features, causing taehyung’s own brows to furrow.

“i think these are for... me,” and so you told a tale of a woman with ambitions rather than stars in her eyes, who felt a compulsion to at least tell the truth to her husband and the stranger whom she met at her wedding. of course, omitting the teary eyed part and the blush and bridal pink roses part.

taehyung had easily chuckled while the staff set down plates of delicacies on the round meant-for-two-people-on-a-honeymoon table, saying, “he has fine taste - they’re from halls & tara,” after the staff left.

it didn’t occur to you that the h&t initials on the top right corner of the card stood for the most well known florist in seoul until he’d pointed it out, which could only mean he’d been suspicious enough to take longer than a glance at the flowers.

“do you mind if i keep them? at least, until they’re not as fresh anymore.” you quickly added the last part.

“you can keep them in a vase and have them live longer... why? are they not the shade of pink you wanted?” he blinked once, hand halting midair as he was about to take a mouthful of pancakes.

“well- no, they’re perfect actually - i love them,” you almost stutter in your haste to explain while trying to be casual about how devastated you would be if- “it’s just that... i really didn’t know him or who he was- but he obviously knew me because it’s hard not to know the lady of the day- i’m not breaching any terms-”

it’s the way the trickles of laughter filling the otherwise silent room that got you to clamp your mouth shut. the way kim taehyung looked so ethereal and majestic in the pristine black and white setting of the room.

“i don’t mind,” he’d clarified a moment later, eyes twinkling with the remnants of laughter, “i understand why he’d want to desperately send you these if only to see you smile softly like you did - you look beautiful when you smile, by the way.”

the compliment had caught you off guard and your heart might or might not have somersaulted but if there’s anything seven years of becoming a stewardess has taught you, it was to always prepare an adequate response to every situation - and at that time, kim taehyung was infamous for his quick wits and reputation with the ladies. of course, words sweet as honey would come easy for him.

“thank you,” and so were the words of gratitude on your part as you schooled a smile and dug into the pancakes your husband made.

but sitting on the black leather couch, holding onto a similar colored bouquet, you can’t help but blurt out, “that was you? i was bawling my eyes out because of some mismanagement to my husband who didn’t even recognize?” something between a disbelieving scoff and an irony-induced laugh escapes your mouth, “why didn’t you tell me?”

taehyung’s shoulder line shakes as he shrugs, hand going up to scratch the back of his head as he drops his gaze, as if searching for the answer only to look back up into your eyes with a, “i didn’t think you’d be as happy if you knew it was me,” his gaze falters, like a bud of fear blooming behind his irises,

“why wouldn’t i be?” you blink once, not quite understanding where he’s coming from.

that is, until a small smile slips onto his lips and it’s heartbreaking to witness and even more devastating to know you’re in no place to let your arms gather him into a hug like you wish. to kiss his forehead until his worries disappear.

he twines his fingers with yours, thumbing the diamond on your fourth finger, “i’m sorry that i took away your choice to marry for love - that’s a bit corny isn’t it?” he scrunches his nose and you can’t help but giggle, “it’s not just some short term contract since we both agreed divorce is never in the equation,” neither of you believe in tainting the sanctity of marriage - no matter what cause it was founded upon - with separation, “but god, the things you’re going through right now - i promise i’ll make things right.”

taehyung’s eyes tend to appear in different shades along with his emotions - though you know it’s most probably the lighting. dark brown is for when he’s scrutinizing the hollow smiles and empty compliments he gets at functions. but sometimes you find yourself catching hazel.

like right now, as they capture yours and look at you as if you’re the only one he sees.

“taehyung...” you thought you knew what you wanted to say when you said his name but as you get lost in the midnight dessert of his eyes, you’re not sure if you can even muster so much as a squeak without falling apart.

and that’s when a knock reverberates into the air like thunder, forcing you to jolt away from the man until no part of you is touching any part of him.

“hey,” a somber voice greets as jungkook leans against the doorframe, “so they fixed me up and the chairman wants me gone in,” he looks down at his wrist, “two minutes and fifty-three seconds.”

blinking away the remnants of the emotions away, you stand up, giving the man a once over. his button up is marred with a trickle of deep red a few inches over his chest, hair matted and face sporting different stages of bruising. the bleeding’s stopped for the most part.

“you’ve definitely seen better days,” you announce, walking around the couch to get to where the man is rolling his eyes at.

“sorry for calling you the w-word,” that’s definitely wasn’t what you were expecting which prompts the belated, almost suspicion induced,“...okay.”

“i did that because i needed to confirm something,” he goes on, eyes flitting over your shoulder where you know your husband is staring right back, burning holes inside your brother’s head before he looks back at you, taking a full 180 in attiude, “and don’t worry about mom and dad - i’ll take care of them.”

it takes you a moment to digest his proclamation, all the whilst hyperly aware of the hand that makes its way on your lower back as a familiar dior scent fills your senses, “so you’re not gonna drag me home?” as though disbelieving the words that came out of your mouth, you add, “that’s all it takes? a few punches to the face?”

the twitch of his eyebrow doesn’t go unnoticed by you. nor does the deep breath he forces himself to take at the blatant insult and insinuation of your future boxing lessons to which he warns, “don’t get any crazy ideas,” then he turns to the man next to you, “i let you hit me - let’s get that out of the way first.”

and before either you or taehyung manage to get a word in, jungkook hand comes flying to your forehead, a loud sound of skin smacking against skin echoing throughout the room as you tumble backwards with an audible “ow- hey!”, barely noticing the much larger hand that’s covering yours. inspecting the patch of skin where jungkook just flicked.

without even an apology for the uncalled for assault, he nods at something over your head, probably taehyung, “you take care of my sister, you hear me? cause there won’t be a second time.”

and then he’s gone like the wind - you would have tracked down that wind and give him a taste of his own medicine like you did when you were children. you’d jump on his back and attempt to bite a chunk of his head if your nannies didn’t pull you apart - but right now, you couldn’t escape taehyung’s hand on your waist even if you wanted to.

“let me see,” he instructs, gently coaxing your hand to unclasp the patch of skin on your forehead so he could softly blow on it.

you stay like that, standing at the doorway with your bodies too close and taehyung refusing to unhand you until your cheeks are replaced with a different kind of heat than the anger you felt for your god forsaken brother.

“god he’s an ass - you should’ve messed up his face more,” you huff, and you don’t know why - maybe it’s the way you stomp your foot, maybe it’s the way your cheeks tend to puff when you’re feeling vindictive or maybe it’s a mystery locked in taehyung’s head that you’ll never know but his chuckles sound like hymns in your ears.

and you thought that was the end of the electrified sensation on your skin where his touch lingers until you feel a pair of the softest lips on your forehead, right where the flick was supposed to throb. a grinning taehyung looking back at you as if asking, “my nanny used to do this to me when i bump my knee against a furniture...” a flash of worry blooms in his eyes for the briefest moment before he voices his concerns, “hope the magic still works.

the sight is heartwarming. endearing even. and you can’t help smile, cheeks hot, “it does - it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

and just as you thought he’s about to release you from the torment of having your heart skip multiple beats at a time and step back, he presses another peck on your forehead. a smile gracing his features, “another one for good measure.”

it’s a surprise your legs are still holding you up with how jelly-like they’ve become.

“th-thank you.”

mrs. kim discharged herself a week after the fight but not without standing in front of the hospital with her frilly fur coat and gucci handbag while she looks at the camera and consequently straight into the screen, “i have yet received a publicly apology for what jeon jungkook did to mine by the jeons. my taehyung couldn’t even kill a fly, let alone start a fist fight-” she shivers uncontrollably as though overcome with chills, “such a barbaric, uncivilized act can only come from-”

“you’re watching that?” a smooth baritone fills the room as a figure struts in beige slacks and oversized creme sweater, “again?”

he sits on the edge the backrest of the couch, looking down at you with an expression that makes your stomach churn. with butterflies or guilt for breaking your promise to stop checking out these articles, you don’t know.

“sorry,” you mumble, placing the ipad down a few inches from your feet as you bring your legs up against your chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, “worrying about how the press twists mother’s words comes from the plentiful of time i have on my hands after being sacked, i guess.”

it’s been a week since you’ve received your new schedule. to which you received a call right after to head to the headquarters in the heart of seoul only to be told that-

“___, you gotta understand, this whole fiasco going on with your family... it’s giving the airline a bad rep,” mr. bang leaned back against his recliner, his eyes hiding behind the beam of his glasses, “people are leaving bad reviews on the website that has absolutely nothing to do with our services but has everything to do with you and your husband.”

he meant the growing dissatisfaction upon the revelation of the artificiality of you and taehyung’s marriage.

nobody’s caught jungkook and taehyung in a video but there’d been witnesses and ‘sources’ affirming the two getting into a fistfight at the hospital. and so another record has been made in your long list of family drama.

“sir, please,” you could feel your eyebrows joining together from the sheer frustration and reality anchoring into the pit of your stomach, “i’ve been working for korean air -for seven years now- check my reconds,” hope blooms in your chest as you suggest the idea to your superior, “i’ve never been late, never had a customer complain about me, never made any mistakes prior to this-”

“it doesn’t matter what you did before this, ___,” he cut you off, voice heavy with emphasis.

but you weren’t backing out that easy, “please, it’s not fair to lay me off for something i have zero control in.”

at your wording, the man physically flinched, almost as though struck by a spear before he shook his head, denying your claims.

“you’re not fired,” he corrected, “you’re on paid leave... until everything calms down.”

it took everything in you not to let the frown slip onto your face. first it’s paid leave and then it a one month notice before they officially sack you - you’ve seen how this played out one too many times.

so you smiled, “with all due respect, mr. bang, how long is ‘until everything calms down’?”

the man’s shoulder line jolted as he shrugged, lower lip jutted out in a nonchalant nature, “that depends on how you choose to solve it, ___... i assume you are working on a solution, yes?”

it was a trick question. if you answered the affirmative, it’d be admitting what mrs. kim and almost everyone have been demanding - a divorce. if you answered no, then you’re as good as jobless.

“my husband and i are working on it,” was all you say.

when taehyung found out later that night - he was livid. he was a phone call away from calling up mr. ji to sue the airline for discrimination. it took you stealing his phone away and running around the penthouse until you made him promise that he’d listen to you first.

he did, and you’d wanted to wait it out and see because, “there isn’t any damage to build our ground on anyway because i’m not fired yet.”

“well, dinner’s ready ” taehyung’s soft as silk voice tears you apart from your memroies, hand levitating midair until you take it, hoisting yourself up.

taehyung pushes himself off the couch, walking on the other side with your hand in his. it’s comical but endearing all at once and you giggle at how neither of you are willing to let the other go even though you’ll have to once you reach the four-people dining table.

“thank you,” you say as you lower yourself on the seat while he pushes the chair in for you.

home cooked meals have become a norm for the both of you ever since that day taehyung punched jungkook in the face. at first, you insisted that you should be the one cooking since he was injured but he stayed with you in the kitchen and you talked about your day and reminisced about your childhood and how you similarly had nannies that forbade you from coming into the kitchen.

then there was the peck on the top of your forehead he started doing a few days ago after you were sat and before he went around the table to get to his seat that’s across from you.

“did you go shopping today?” he asks in between cutting up the steak which he stole a whole plate from you into mini slices.

“yeah, with hwasa,” you nod - the woman had been all too delighted to see you after mismatched schedules and ghostly texts because of life and work getting in the way.

“the friend from high school?” taehyung surprises you yet again as he places your plate back in front of you, this time with the pieces all cut into edible bites. you’ve never mentioned hwasa to him - but it’s not a lie that she’s your closest friend from high school who got accepted into the same training programme as you at the beginning of your career.

“thank you-” you shoot him a smile before picking up the fork and knife, “and yeah, that’s her. we haven’t seen each other for months so we kind of went a little crazy with the dresses.”

he doesn’t look up when he speaks his next words which is why you have a trouble digesting them as you involuntarily blurt out a, “sorry- what?”

“the dresses you bought,” he reiterates, an amused smile on his lips - possibly because of your almost-choked state, “- can i see them?”

“oh,” clear your throat once, sipping down the red wine before chuckling nervously, “hwasa bought dresses - didn’t.”

taehyung hums, head tilting to the side as though trying to capture your avoidant gaze, “then put on whatever you bought that i saw lying on your bed - the door was open when i passed your room.”

at that moment, to say your heart quite literally crash against the floor, would be an understatement. it takes you a minute to gather yourself, another to force out a laugh as you attempt to brush the thought of taehyung seeing the black and red laces from savage x fenty hwasa adamantly insited you get after a story time on why you decided to get married to how something has definitely shifted between you and taehyung.

but no amount of gushing and squealing about made up scenarios brewing from hwasa’s little head could prepare you for what’s happening right at this moment.

“oh those?” a chuckle, “those are aren’t even worth showing.”

and just as you thought he’ll let the matter go like he would when you dismissively mention something that he inquired about, taehyung takes a full 180, eyes clouded with a sort of emotion you don’t dare delve into, “that’s for me to decide,” he takes a sip of the wine, pushing his chair back as he stands up, “i’m done,” with that, he places his plate down where geom, your mixed breen papillion and silky terrier shouts out an appreciative woof at the pleasant surprise.

patting the canine briefly, he turns to you, those clouded eyes seeping into your soul, “put them on - i’ll be waiting in my room.”

his footsteps echo against the walls as he ascends the stairs and disappears into the hallway where his room lies across from yours. it is a whole solid minute later, once you hear the door of his room click shut, that you make a beeline for the couch where your phone lies lonely.

dialing up the only person you know you can hold accountable for, you quite literally scream at the ‘hell-’ with a “hwasa, he wants me to put the lingerie on and show him!”

while your voice drips with dread, the other woman, choosing to be willfully oblivious, screams into your ears, “oh my god - oh my god. then what are you doing calling me?! go put them on!”

and that’s how you end up holding in a breath while deliberately repeating hwasa’s not so helpful pep talk of ‘you’re the hottest’ and ‘kim taehyung will be wrapped around your fingers by the end of the night!’

“but it’s been over a year - i’m not sure if i even know how to moan!” you’d protested while pull the strap of the garter around your thigh.

that was half an hour ago.

now, you’re debating on whether to knock like you would have before you started cuddling into the other while watching tv. but before that, you’d never did anything together unless it was family dinners and gatherings.

so you opt for pushing down the handle. the sharp ‘click’ being the only announcement of your entrance. taehyung’s walls are a deep shade of maroon almost black with the lights on its lowest setting. the sound of music playing in the background barely registers in your mind as you focus your attention to the figure that’s pushing himself up from his laying down position.

you resist the temptation to run and hide under the comfort your covers - an opposed response compared to your confident stride, placing one foot after the other until you stand a good two feet away from the bed and taehyung.

“what do you think?” the smile brandished over your face is nothing like your racing heart whlist you do a little twirl- but then again, you’ve always been such an actress.

“if the world were made of diamonds, i’d choose the rose before me... because you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever laid eyes on,” you wonder how he doesn’t even blink as those words pour out of his mouth, hand finding its way in the dip of your waist. staring. admiring.

“always the charmer,” you want to curse yourself for the unoriginal come back yet taehyung doesn’t seem to notice as he lets you push him to the bed whilst his eyes undress what little piece of clothing you have on as you crawl on top of him.

your toes curl at the sound of taehyung’s excruciatingly slow exhalation - almost as though he intends for it to caress your ears and seep into your pores before settling into the pit of your core.

the sharp charm of dior fills your senses as you place kisses on his neck, tucking his flesh between your teeth ever so gently, not expecting the delectable surprise that slips out of his mouth.

who would have thought kim taehyung was a moaner?

the giggle that trickles out of your mouth is blamelessly involuntary but catches his attention nonetheless, “what?”

“oh, nothing,” you nibble on his earlobe before whispering into his ears, “just thinking of how cute you’ll look moaning for me.”

and you’ve easily add to the long list of things you won’t forgive yourself in the morning. yet you still caress his growing size through his pants, giggling when the delicious sound hits the air for the second time.

“take it out,” he whimpers after one too many teases, “please.”

“only because you said please,” the way his chin tilts to follow your lips after you pecked them doesn’t go unnoticed by you but you clasp your hand against his chest, pinning him down with a shake of your head “uh-uh, you get up when i tell you to.”

the excruciating ‘fuck’ that leaves his lips is what truly lights up the flame in the pit of your stomach. you watch as his hand goes up to run through his hair in a sexually frustrated nature but doesn’t attempt to push himself up after that.

it only takes a few pumps for the clear fluid of precum to trickle over your hand, letting you smear all over his hardened dick and causing it to glisten underneath the luminescence of the room.

sparks shoot through your core and strike your heart into an erratic rhythm when you lower yourself over him, holding the slit of the black lace undergarment apart until he’s hitting every delicious inch inside of you.

you’ve barely even started to move when you break out into a cry, falling into his arms like a puppet whose strings got cut off. the arms around you are gentle as they hold you against him until you’ve come down from your high.

by the time you push yourself up, your knees are still trembling yet you nod when he cups your cheeks and forces you to look into those concern filled eyes, “are you good?”

“i’m fine,” the sniffle is probably the last thing you need to convince him, “i lost myself for a moment.”

this time, it’s his turn to chuckle, lips curling into a smirk, “it’s completely understandable to admit that you couldn’t hold out for more than a minute because i stretched you out so good.”

you want to protest - want to gain back the control you lost when he hit that sweet spot not even, yes, as he says, a minute into taking him in. but one single thrust right against that same exact spot and you’re whimpering in utter submission and devotion.

“that’s what i thought,” that damned smirk is the last thing you see before you succumb to his every wishes and command until you find yourself with a strong arm banded over your stomach, another arm reaching for a pillow and puffing it up before you feel yourself being gently lowered face flushed into it - the smallest gesture of tenderness that you didn’t expect to witness when you decided to tease him in the beginning.

the yelp when taehyung’s hands slip under the strap of the garter, doesn’t even manage to form fully when a moan replaces it as he yanks the garter and consequently, your ass against him, forcing you to swallow his entire length in one stroke.

“god, you’re so big,” if you were a little sober and a whole lot more conscious, you would have added that into the list of things you said that you would cringe at in the morning.

but you’re already one orgasm down in the foreseeable long list of orgasms that kim taehyung promises you as he sinks into you, moaning out your name like a holy mantra.

“i know you love it,” he agrees oh so innocently for someone who’s about to thrust into you like a godless being.

five strokes in and you’re cursing and screaming out in pleasure, hands gripping onto the duvet for dear life as you feel you convulse into a state of toe-curling euphoria. the way taehyung stops moving and trails down butterfly kisses down your back until the tensed muscles in your lower abdomen simmers down into pleasured twitches, doesn’t go by you.

“you can move now,” another sniffle, but this one has completely and irrevocably succumbed to your rawest desires.

it’s the soft chuckle and the one last peck on your left shoulder blade that has your heart stuttering. ungodly opposite to the way he moves his hips as he thrusts into you without so much as a warning - your last two orgasms were just preambles. ones out of the many that night that has you writhing and moaning in pleasure. some of which were incited by sides of you, you didn’t know existed.

the last thing you recall is taehyung gathering you in his arms like he couldn’t bear to be apart from you even in his sleep now that he’s had a taste. it’s endearing and daunting all at once. because for the first time since your marriage, you’re afraid of losing him.

a few days after that, you’re tying away on your macbook when taehyung comes home looking less like the man you knew. his hair, disheveled from having run his hand through them more than his hair gel allows. his eyes, carrying a sort of weight that latches onto him like parasites - or maybe that’s just the papparazzo that you noticed have been following you around. their numbers have decreased considerably after the rumor of taehyung hiring a team of lawyers which was no rumor at all.

it was the morning after you woke up with tingly legs barely able to function like it should and muscles sore but a sort of fullness in your chest when you noticed the man whose arms are wraped around you like a protective cocoon as he faintly snored away.

then came the muted sound of your phone from the other side of the hallway where your room door beckons you into its domain. it wasn’t as obnoxiously loud since it was at least twenty feet away and you would have ignored it and gone back to bed if not for the short interval signaling the person calling had finally reached the mailbox or hung up on their own. that was, before they hit call for the second time.

slipping out of taehyung’s arms, you trudged to your room with half a mind to give whoever this caller is a piece of your mind - god’s sake, the flashy red digits on your alarm clock stares at you at 5:23 in the morning.

“this better be good, hwasa or i swear-” before you can even finish the woman is already screaming into your ear like she’s being chased by an axe murderer.

“oh my god, oh my god - have you seen the news?!” except no woman chased by a murderer would sound this exhilarated, she went on before you could even get a “no one in their right mind would be checking the news at ass crack-” out.

“oh shoot, it’s still 5 something in korea, isn’t it?” she gasped - if you weren’t on paid leave, you’d be in hong kong, probably sharing rooms and getting tipsy in some club there, “but anyway, kadore’s chairman is suing insight, pullbbang and other websites for slander!” she shrieked.

"what?” you could feel the muscles on your face pulling into a contorted confusion but

after hanging up and telling hwasa you were going to look into the matter some more, you’d come up with multiple articles stating a similar fact as your overly enthusiastic best friend did. still in denial, you’d confronted your husband about it- he was still sleeping soundly when you strutted in and shook him up to which he confessed, eyes droopy and face puffy. the sight was so foreign to you because you were used to seeing him fresh and suited up but you’d found yourself making a little space in your heart for barely-just-woken-up-taehyung to reside in.

first came anger - you didn’t ask for him to do this, “what would everyone think if i went to you crying about a little bit of criticism for something i did do?” then came confusion because what exactly did you do that was so horrendously heineous to warrant these websites to write such malicious statements about you?

taehyung had seen every flash of emotions that pooled in your eyes and tugged on your fingers - you weren’t sure if he’d meant it but it successfully pulled you from drowning in your own thoughts, “i told you i’d make things right - these people won’t be able to say another word about you unless it’s the truth- that you’re a hardworking, amazing woman who deserves everything she has and yes,” he fixed you the most tender, sleepy smile “that includes the money i make - what’s the point of working if i can’t even provide my wife with the best?”

taehyung tosses the beige tuxedo onto the handrest of the couch adjacent to where you’re sitting with one leg up in nothing but a loose fitted sweater that hangs off your left shoulder. the half empty wine glass lies untouched on the coffee table since you’d put it down.

with a thump, he sinks himself into the leather material of the couch, hands cupping his face, as though if he rubs it hard enough, the deadset frown would go away.

before you know it, you’re padding over to the couch he’s on, hands finding their ways onto his shoulders, massaging the noticeable tension in his muscles until a grateful sigh slips out of his mouth, hand guiding your own to his lips where he presses a kiss on your knuckles.

only when you go around to take the spot next to him, hand smoothing out his hair, do you finally say, “is it the board again?”

mina has been keeping you updated on the turbulence that was caused by your fraudulent marriage being exposed. the chairman seat became taehyung by default when he got married as per his father’s will. but the board members have been vocal about abrogating his rights to succeeding kadore.

“there’s talk about votes demoting me to director,” he’s never sound so fragile - in taehyung’s long list of fluctuating interest from women and men to art and sculptures and to yatches and sports cars, kadore is probably the only thing he’s ever taken seriously.

you would know - seeing him decked in armani with soft wavy hair contrasting his strong features, weren’t your only reason for accepting his proposal of marriage. it had more to do with the way he spoke about the company. in a dimly lit room just like now, with a wine glass in his hand and the cityscape underneath that gave an illusion of stilled fireflies scattered all across the city, taehyung had spoken of his unforgivable regrets. the deals he’d let pass by. the merges he’d settled with instead of aiming higher. the brands he didn’t reach out to.

those regrets birthed fears and those fears were what made him even entertain the notion of a beneficial marriage.

or as the board likes to call it, an atrociously wickedly schemed marriage.

“they won’t have a ground to depose you to a director’s position if they can’t provide a solid reason,” you say and he blinks, clueless, hopeless.

it’s almost as if you’re facing a whole different man.

“what do you mean?”

“i’m talking about us doing what we do best,” you fix him a smile - one that probably needs a little convincing and grounding but a smile nonetheless, “we show them that the kims aren’t to be messed with,” you pause, letting the silence settle into brimming suspense before finally saying, “it’s been awhile since we’ve made a public appearance together, hasn’t it? how does lunch sound like?”

and so goes your multiple appearances in the most top notch restaurant together. the lack of chauffeur wasn’t intentional but helpful nonetheless to prove that the chairman was hopeless and irrevocably mad for his wife that he’d drive all the way to wherever she was to pick her up and then drive them to the designated restaurant instead of the convenience of meeting at said restaurant from wherever you both were prior to that.

then there was the hand holding, hip grabbing and not going a minute without smiling and giggling about what the other said. to outsiders, it would have looked as if things hadn’t been all that different - except you’d finally came out of your 1 billion doller cave after the whole ‘fiasco’ with your families. but it was the little hand kisses and forehead pecks in between taehyung making mini runs to get to your side to open your car door.

and the ‘how was your day’s and which are followed by a ‘you’re still deadset on working, huh?’s each time you told him about your in-the-work resume since you’re ‘at the risk of getting a notice of resignation any time soon’.

“what if you started your own business? i could buy a whole building in nonhyeon-dong that you could make as your headquarters?” he offers in between twirling the pasta around his fork after you insisted that- “my job is the only thing that i’ve got going on for me to prove that i’m not a gold-digger that everyone thinks i am.”

“i was thinking more like travelling from place to place like...” you shoot him a ‘you know’ smile before adding, “a cabin crew.”

“one of korean air’s biggest shareholders are letting go of her stock because her color pencil business isn’t doing so well these days,” he nods, deeply contemplative, “they’re gonna be sacking a few employees if they don’t get buyers by the next two months,” he surmises with a concluding nod to which you end up laughing and almost choking on your food.

picking up the water on your right, you quickly gulp it down before clarifying as to why you found his statement so funny that you’d risk your esophagus in the process, “no, tae,” that nickname is also one of the little things that just happens - you don’t miss the tuck in the corners of his lips when it slips off your tongue, “it’s sweet of you to want to buy me a share of the airline i’m working for but that’s the thing, it’s your money,” you reach out for his hand, smiling when he meets yours halfway.

a warm pressure engulfs your hand as he squeezes briefly, “and i told you, what’s mine is yours.”

“likewise,” you fix him a grateful smile, “but i like flying. i like being a cabin crew - on top of holding onto my job to prove people wrong, of course.”

the longest pause hovers over you like a grey clouds with taehyung’s beautiful but contemplating eyes holding you captive. as though trying to take you out part by part, trying to figure you out.

“then, what would you like me to do?” the question catches you off guard, like being hit by a wild baseball even though you’re walking right next to a baseball field, “you’ve always been so good at taking care of yourself - when you broke down in front of me... at the hospital... i didn’t know what to do-” his lips quiver just the slightest bit, almost as though holding back invisible tears, “tell me what to do. because it feels like everything i do isn’t the slightest bit helpful. ”

all of a sudden, the sands of time seem to have stopped, levitating midair within the dip of the hourglass. it’s daunting but heartbreaking at the same time - the sight of raw fear and uncertainty that’s pooling within taehyung’d eyes like unmoving river - you never knew your attempts to hold up your values reflects as a declaration of nonessential to taehyung’s own attempts to reach out to you.

“i don’t need you - to fight my battles, to solve my problems for me - though i’m immensely grateful that you did,” you say after what feels like an eternity, “but i want you so... stay as you are, supporting me like you’re doing now.”

“i don’t know if that counts as support - i’m not doing anything,” he counters, eyes downcasted until you reach out your other hand to cover his that’s already holding your left hand.

“you are - you never invalidated my feelings of wanting to work, you encouraged me to do bigger things and that means you believe in me - maybe i will take up that offer in the future but right now, i want to keep doing what i always have been,” you fix him a smile, “and i want to do it with you by my side.”

the tiniest of smile that slips onto his face tells you that his heart is still in a state of unrest. unconvinced. but he’s trying as he nods, “if that’s what you want,” and you thought that’s the end of it. until the foreshadowing “but,” that comes a second later, “i’m not gonna stop worrying and trying to fix things - we’re married, your problems are my problems too.”

the chuckle escapes your mouth signifies the good natured jest of your next words as you summon your hands back, already missing the warmth of his much larger ones around you, “well we weren’t exactly on that term until just recently.”

a shadow casts itself over taehyung’s handsome face as he picks up his fork, “that’s something i’ll regret for the rest of my life - not getting to know you beyond the contract sooner.”

“everyone makes mistakes,” you shrug before taking a peek at his expression as you mention a certain free spirited woman, “besides, you were too caught up with jeongyeon on our first year of marriage.”

she had been one of the few people who’d managed to bring out a side of taehyung you never knew existed.

boyish. bratty. someone who actually bicker and whines about the littlest things and everything that was on the opposite spectrum the crisp, suit-wearing, slicked back hair, charming man you married. sometimes, when you go out to dinners or the little moments when you find yourselves alone while attending functions, you see glimpses of that playful, boyish side of him. the human side of him.

over time, you realize that that’s also part of what makes taehyung... well, taehyung. it’s just only recently that you start seeing more than glimpses of these sides behind closed doors.

the way his eyes widen is enough for you to know that you’ve hit the nail right on its head. if the incomprehensible stuttering isn’t, “that... i was... we didn’t-”

“i know,” you fix him a jesting smile, “you may be a certified charmer for the most part but you’re not a homewrecker, tae.”

lunch goes on with you talking about how your father and brother are thrilled to have you and taehyung over for your monthly dinner. to which the man was partly confused and partly shivered in his seat at the thought of sitting down at a table with two of your favorite men in the world no doubt shooting him daggers while you’re not watching - or pretend that you don’t notice.

“i can’t avoid father forever,” he laments, finally giving into his fate as you walk out the restaurant, “and i have a lot of owning up to do to your family.”

“as do i,” you hum in agreement once before murmuring a ‘thank you’ as he holds the car door open after tipping the valet.

it’s only five minutes into the ride, once the car rolls to a stop at a red light does he turn to you, “you know, you don’t have to... with mom, reconciliation is a two way thing and she...” you notice the way his grip tightens around the wheel, eyes darkening as he breathes in, grounding himself “- she even made you file for divorce.”

the papers she’d given you that day still lied in your drawer, hidden away from taehyung’s pyromaniac hands. you’d caught him almost setting them on fire when you he found it lying on the counter after he’d returned home. all because spent a good chunk of the afternoon staring at it before leaving it to take a hot bath, not realizing taehyung would be home any time soon. ever since then, he hadn’t been on speaking terms with mrs. kim. turned down offers for dinners and luncheons, as he had directly told her in front of you through a phone call, “...not until you apologize to ___ first.”

“tae, mother was hurt by our lies and i understand why, i can’t promise i’ll be as accepting if i found out the daughter-in-law i cherished so much didn’t marry my son for love like i thought they did,” you lightly pat his hand that’s on the gear but instead he captures your fingers between his and guide them to his lips as he traps you within those beautiful eyes.

“you’re too kind for your own good, you know that?” there they are again, hazel underneath the light. but clouded with a sort of emotion you can’t pinpoint.

but before you can even muster a word, his eyes are already focused on the road as the car propels itself forward. but he doesn’t let go of your hand. he keeps it twined with his between yours and the gear. almost as if he didn’t want to be apart from you if he could help it. and neither could did you as you rub tiny motions into the back of his hand.

in your defense, you’ve stolen a precious gem from her that no money or gold could ever replace. and no matter how much you cherish the bond that formed after hours spent on shopping, tea times and mother-daughter (in-law) vacations, you’re not kind enough to unwrap him from your little fingers.

a smile curls on your lips as you guide taehyung’s hand to yours, placing a kiss on his knuckles and watching as his own lips tuck at the corners.

you’ll just have to make it up to mother some other way.

note. if you enjoy this then please leave a comment either below or in my inbox! and check out the other members’ installments to the series filed under ‘verse’ on top!

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artsyhobi · 3 years

Text

Cursed

Divine Gods!BTS x reader

series masterlist

Chapter one, Calico Cat.

characters: mortal!fem!reader, god of the moon!park jimin, god of the sun!jung hoseok, god of death and darkness!min yoongi, god of the four elements!kim namjoon, god of time!kim seokjin, god of nature and life!jeon jungkook, god of mischief!kim taehyung.

a/n: hello ! i hope you enjoy this first chapter, i actually took inspo from Goblin (which is a kdrama i absolutely loved ;;) and i'm sorry in advance for my poor writing, but english is not my first language ...

trigger warning: mentions of blood, violence and death, curse words.

tag-list: @greezenini, @fangirl125reader, @motherofbludgers

Min Yoongi sat on the throne, his legs elegantly crossed as he rested his forearms on the armrest. He slightly raised his left arm so that the tip of his index finger could lightly brush against his lower lip, his eyebrows mildly furrowed in a focused expression.

The black-haired man continued playing with his lip, then reached for something in the pocket of his silk pants and held the object in the palm of his hand: it was a vintage pocket watch entirely made out of gold, with a ruby located right at its center. The hands of the watch moved mechanically, producing a “tic” sound that resonated in his mind like an irritating echo.

Yoongi hated time. What was ironic, though, is that he had too much of it: he had an Eternity.

Yoongi glared at the antique object once more. A satisfied smirk appeared on the corner of his lips, depicting anything but an innocent smile. He stood up, adjusting his coat and grabbing his black bowler hat in a swift movement before taking some steps forward: as he walked, the dark throne room surrounding him became gradually more distant and, in a matter of seconds, the man was walking in the busy and snowy streets of Seoul. The snow crunched under the soles of his shoes, the snowflakes that landed on his coat immediately melted, and as he passed by, nobody seemed to notice his presence.

The street was crowded with people rushing to purchase the last Christmas presents, couples holding hands, and kids eating strawberry cotton candy. Disgusting, thought Yoongi as he curled his nose.

“One minute and thirty-three seconds.” He murmured to himself, turning into a deserted alley after checking the correct street name on a brick wall nearby. As he walked, the bright white snow became dirtier until there were just a few clusters of it on the side of the path. It started snowing heavier.

“Fifty-eight seconds.”

“I told you there were consequences!” A hoarse male voice shouted in the distance. Yoongi stopped hands into the pockets of his coat. “You’re a worthless bitch!”

There was a loud bang, followed by two others, and a feeble female voice asking for help. No one could hear her, and even if her cries reached someone’s ears, no one would help her since - according to Min Yoongi - humans were nothing but greedy mortal souls that enjoyed the sufferings of others. They were too occupied with spending their money on materialistic goods and developing toxic, violent, and possessive relationships. They were human beings but had no humanity left in their hearts.

He approached the poor woman laying on the ground, her hand resting on her stomach: blood was gushing out of her bullet wounds, dripping down in a pool of crimson absorbed by the snow. Tears streamed down her face as she whispered the same words over and over again, “Help me”.

He crouched down beside her and tilted his head, observing her like a detective inspected a victim. He knew that her time was up and that she was destined to die there, alone, desperately waiting for someone to find her.

“S-Sir…” She mumbled, some blood running down from the corner of her mouth. “P-please help me…” Her hand desperately clutched the hem of his coat, smearing it with her blood.

Yoongi sharply exhaled and rolled his eyes, turning his head to the side.

“Fancy seeing you follow me everywhere I go, Jungkook.” He stated, reluctantly standing up to face a man leaning against the brick wall, his arms crossed.

“Did you miss me?” Jungkook grinned.

He seemed almost like an angel since the clothes he wore were entirely white. His blond hair brushed against his shoulders, and a pair of long crystal earrings hung from his ears, sparkling as soon as they moved. Yoongi, on the contrary, was his polar opposite: his short wavy locks were as black as pitch, and although his eyes were a dull brown, they almost felt like looking into two holes, black as a night without stars.

“Seokjin sent me here to stop you from reaping her soul,” he affirmed, playing with the many rings he wore on his fingers, “It’s not her time yet.”

Yoongi scoffed, slightly amused at his statement. “Don’t you see the three holes on her stomach… Or do you need a magnifying glass? I am the one who decides if she dies today, not that Doctor Strange wannabe.” He took some steps toward him until his face was a few inches away from his, “I don’t take orders from a teenager.”

Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows, the slight grin disappeared. “These are not my orders but his, and you know you must obey him.” He lightly shoved Yoongi’s shoulder without interrupting eye contact with him, trying to remain calm. He kneeled beside the woman and caressed her hair, a sad smile depicted on his pink lips, while Yoongi stared angrily at the two.

“Don’t even think about it, Jungkook, her soul is already mine.” He said through gritted teeth.

“It is, you’re right.” The blond whispered and delicately put his hand on the woman’s chest. “But not now, Yoongi, you will have to wait.”

“Wait!?” Yoongi exclaimed in disbelief, and then frantically ran a hand through his black locks, “This has to be a joke, is Taehyung with you?”

“He is not,” He responded as a gleam of light formed under the palm of his hand, turning brighter by the second, “I haven’t seen him in ages.” This time his tone was lower, and his expression had darkened. Yoongi nodded, having no interest in knowing what had happened between the two friends.

“I suppose you won’t tell me why Seokjin wants to spare her life.”

“He just told me to stop you, nothing more.”

Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. “Lies,” he snarled, “you are his little obedient puppy, Jungkook, we all know it.”

Jungkook inhaled the sharp, cold air and smiled as the woman opened her dark eyes. “I’m not here to fight, Yoongi, so you can insult me how much you want.” The blond took the now conscious woman into his arms and glared directly at his former friend. “But nothing will change the fact that you’re on your own now.”

Yoongi turned around, ready to argue back, but there was no trace of Jungkook.

The black-haired man remained still as he watched the empty spot, sighing, a strange feeling at the pit of his stomach.

20 years later

“Chung-Ae, we’ve already talked about this!” You groaned in annoyance, sinking your face into your Pikachu plushie. “I’m happy here!”

Chung-Ae sat on the counter, her arms supporting her as she gave you a stern look. You peeked, escaping the protection of your plushie, noticing that she wore purple lenses - although her stare was as scary as it had always been -.

“You’re a twenty-two-year-old living in an old house, with your three cats, and working in a cat-café.” She emphasized the “and” as if working in such a wonderful place was something to be ashamed of.

“That’s the best life!” You exclaimed as you sat comfortably on your sofa. “I mean, why would I need to move to Seul with a bunch of horny people when I could just spend the rest of my life in peace?”

Chung-Ae sighed loudly.

“They’re not just a bunch of horny people. They are my friends.”

You parted your lips to respond, wanting to remind her about the last party you both had attended, but she cut you off.

“Y/N, you live alone in such an abandoned area, it’s dangerous; it even takes you more than an hour to reach the café.” She slid down from the counter and sat next to you, putting her hand on your shoulder. “Trust me, I know that you’re attached to this place, but it doesn’t work for you anymore.”

She was right, you loved that place. Your grandparent’s house was located in the countryside, in a small rural village that was scarcely populated. The few young people remaining had started moving to bigger cities such as Seul or Busan, but not you. You adored waking up to the sound of birds chirping in the morning and the gurgling of the river. You got used to being alone, and you didn’t mind it. You couldn’t understand why Chung-Ae tried to force you to move with her, but she was rather determined, and you knew she was going to insist.

“Chung-Ae,” you reached for her hand and squeezed it delicately, a small smile forming on your lips. “You know I can’t leave, I promised my mother I would take care of this house.”

“You have to stop living in the past, Y/N.” She firmly stated. “This house is falling apart, and so is your life. Moving to Seul with me is your best option.”

Her eyes stared into yours for a few seconds, and you felt unreasonably guilty. You knew how much she cared about you, and you were constantly giving her “no” as answers. She retracted her hand, reaching for her purse right beside her, before standing up. “You still have time to think about it. You know that, right?” Her hand was on the doorknob.

Your mind wanted to decline her offer, but your heart told you otherwise, so you just nodded.

“Take care, Y/N.” And with that, she closed the door behind her, leaving you alone once again.

You finally took a deep breath running your palms down your face in an exasperated manner. Chung-Ae was your childhood friend, and she had always been by your side. You had met her in elementary school: she was popular amongst your class since her father was a renowned lawyer who worked for big celebrities, but you - on the other hand - weren’t as popular. You weren’t a social butterfly and preferred spending your time playing with the stray cats in your neighborhood.

You stood up and walked toward the kitchen, deciding to make yourself a homemade chicken noodle soup. You put the ingredients on the counter and started to chop the carrots into strings. As you were about to grab something, you heard a strange noise coming from outside: you reminisced Chung-Ae’s words and felt a shiver run through your spine, but you shook your head, mentally reassuring yourself that it must have been a wild animal.

You grabbed the celery from the fridge, deciding that you would drink some strawberry milk while waiting for the soup to cook. However, when you closed it, you were taken aback by a calico cat sitting on the floor, right in front of you. Your eyes were wide open in surprise since your three cats were all black, and you crouched down. “Hello, little one,” you gently smiled as you observed the little creature staring at you with a pair of light blue eyes, “I wonder how you got in…”

You inspected the room looking for any open windows but soon discovered you had closed everything. When you turned your gaze back to the cat, it was gone. Puzzled, you stood back up, massaging your temples. Am I hallucinating? You asked yourself before resuming your dish.

After literally devouring your delicious meal and doing the dishes, you headed to your room, where you found the windows wide open. You didn’t remember leaving them like that, but you also didn’t mind the fresh breeze coming from outside. It was a quiet night of July, and the moon was shining vividly in the sky, its brightness being the only source of light in the room. As you approached your bed, you couldn’t help but notice the shape of a cat on the window ledge, but when you came near, it had mysteriously vanished.

"Okay, Y/N, you're probably tired." You told yourself while sitting on the bed. As you laid down, feeling the freshness of your newly washed sheets, you heard another sound and then a chorus of meows coming from the living room. You sighed, reluctantly standing up, wearing a hoodie before walking down the stairs.

"What is it, guys, did you hurt yourselves?" You asked as your three black cats, Luna, Mars, and Pluto, continued meowing toward the front door. You groaned, "Alright, I will check."

You weren't ready for what you were about to see: you expected nothing but pitch darkness or that calico cat that was apparently haunting you now. But as you opened the wooden door, you froze on the spot at the sight of a man leaning his arm on the doorframe.

Because of the darkness, you could only see his silver hair reflecting the moonlight and a pair of light blue eyes staring at you in curiosity.

"Hello, little one."

#bts ot7 x reader #bts series #kim taehyung x reader #bts imagine #bts x reader #bts fanfic #park jimin x reader #kim seokjin x reader #kim namjoon x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jung hoseok x reader #min yoongi x reader

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jungshookz · 3 years

Note

miss cee pd i have a request!!!! how about e2l tae x y/n but they're in law school and they're always arguing and debating inside and outside of the classroom and tae being a little shit is like "you wanna kiss me so bad" and they both don't realise that there's mistletoe above them which jimin put because he was tired of watching them constantly argue and wanted to fiZzle the tension hehe and then they KITH,, i hope this isn't too long aha

➺ pairing; kim taehyung x reader

➺ genre; sfw!! enemies to lovers!! everyone’s in law school!! mostly y/n and taehyung bickering with each other and wanting to jump each other’s bones at the same time

➺ wordcount; 4.3k

➺ what to expect; “don’t flatter yourself. i would rather throw myself into oncoming traffic than kiss you, kim taehyung.”

»»————-　❄　————-««

“-now, the particular case study that was assigned to our group involves a civil action for medical negligence and a criminal prosecution for gross negligence manslaughter, which means that there are seven elements that we need to hit when we’re acting out our simulation next class,” you explain, flipping to the next page of your notebook with a flick of your wrist, “firstly, the client - jimin - must be interviewed so that we may determine the facts that surround the claim/prosecution. secondly, we need to draft witness statements - from hoseok and namjoon - and assess the legal efficacy of said statements. thirdly, we must assess the propriety of police interrogation from officer jungkook of the defend-”

you pause when a crumpled piece of paper lands by your left foot and you clear your throat quietly before stepping over it and continuing to pace back and forth at the front of the classroom

your eyes skim over your scribbled words as you try to relocate your place

…

ah!

here we are

“-ant, seokjin, through all transcripts along with the custody record. fourthly, we move on to assessing the reports that have been produced by the forensic experts-”

another balled-up piece of paper hits your foot and your head immediately snaps upwards from your book before you twist around to face the room

“would you cut that out, please?” you snap, already feeling your blood pressure starting to rise from a single glance at taehyung’s smug face

“what? i didn’t know how else to get your attention!” he hums, his arm dangling in the air with a floppy wrist, “my arm’s been up for the past three minutes, and you would’ve known that if you didn’t have your nose buried deep in your book.”

the reminder that you wouldn’t last a day in prison keeps you from lunging forward to wrap your hands around taehyung’s neck and you press your lips together to stop yourself from saying anything too crass

the last thing you need is for some professor to walk past the classroom while you’re cussing up a storm

your self-control has really been put to the test ever since you met taehyung

after all this time, you still don’t know what the guy’s deal is

he’s been a pain in your ass since day one

and for what??

for WHAT?!

at first you just thought that being a complete prick was just his weird version of being charismatic, but then you realised that he wasn’t being charming at all and he was really, truly, genuinely being a straight-up asshole

and, for the record, you’ve tried several times in the past to try to make things better but nothing’s worked

you said that he looked nice in his suit = he told you to stop looking at him like a piece of meat

you asked him how he did on the midterm exam = he told you that it was his right to keep that piece of information private and that you were being a snake by even asking about it

you said happy birthday to him = he said, and you quote, “yeah. it was until you got here.”

the point is, you’ve waved many white flags of surrender and extended many, many olive branches to no avail

at this point you’re pretty sure taehyung just gets off on being a jerk to you

and it’s not fair because it’s literally just you that he picks on constantly

at first you thought that maybe he was just threatened by your presence because you made it pretty clear from day one that you weren’t here to play around

powerful women are intimidating!

you totally get it.

…but then you overheard him offering rosé some studying tips and you even saw him help wendy carry her books for her and everyone knows that rosé and wendy are two of the smartest girls in the class, so why wasn’t he threatened by them?

...

the point is, he doesn’t treat anyone else in the class like this except for you and you can’t seem to figure out why!

what makes it even more frustrating is the fact that his stupid face is very nice to look at, so whenever he’s being mean to you, your dumb girl hormones drown out the sound of his rich, honey-like voice and place floating pink hearts around his head instead

“i’m so sorry i wasn’t paying attention to you, mr. kim.” you force out before gesturing to the notebook cradled in the crook of your arm, “see, all my notes are in here and i’m just trying to make sure that i don’t miss out on any details,” you point out, “and… i thought i said to save your questions for the end, did i not?”

“did you? i guess i wasn’t listening. sorry, sweetheart.” taehyung chirps, folding his arms and leaning forward on his desk, “anyway- don’t you think it’s a little unfair that you get to play the hotshot lawyer in this simulation?”

“everyone gets a turn to be the lawyer - last week, it was jungkook. this week, it’s me. everyone gets a shot to play the hotshot lawyer because our roles rotate.” you shake your head in disagreement, “how am i being unfair?”

“you assigned yourself, like, the coolest case study.” taehyung scoffs, leaning back against his seat and crossing his arms, “i mean… medical negligence and a criminal prosecution for gross negligence manslaughter?” his left brow arches before he turns his head slightly, “jungkook, what was your case study on again?”

“my client parked in a no-parking zone!” jungkook beams, nodding to himself, “i didn’t mind getting that case, though. it was actually pretty fu-”

“you hear that, y/n?” taehyung turns his head back to face you before gesturing behind him, “jungkook also thinks his case was boring as hell- his client parked in a no-parking zone and you get to deal with corrupt doctors and accidentally-but-not-really-accidentally-run-over-by-a-car pedestrians.”

your jaw clenches in frustration and you resist the urge to take a heel off and bash taehyung’s skull in with it

being forced to wear nice shoes to school would be so much better if you were allowed to commit cold-blooded murder with them

“well, that was last week’s case, so even if jungkook thought it was boring…” you pause, turning to set your notebook down on the front desk before twisting back around, “he’s already had his turn. and now it’s my turn!”

“you could’ve given me this case.”

“oh, please.” you snort, rolling your eyes before leaning against the front desk, “you wouldn’t have been able to handle a case this big. this has my name written all over it.”

taehyung scoffs, rolling his eyes, “the only reason why it has your name written all over it was because you grabbed it with your grubby little raccoon hands before anyone else had the chance to-”

“i-!” you pinch the bridge of your nose before letting out a laugh of disbelief, “oh my god, i refuse to have this conversation with you again, taehyung- for the last time, it was a first-come-first-serve situation, and you probably could’ve gotten this case if you weren’t so busy watching netflix in class-”

“you guys-” namjoon clears his throat, his shoulders drooping when the two of you ignore him, “…never mind.”

this always happens

you guys somehow always find something to argue about no matter what

in fact, namjoon’s convinced that you guys could sit in complete and utter silence and still find something to fight over

“how long do you think the argument will last this time?” yoongi leans over, “i bet you ten bucks it’ll last longer than last week’s fight.”

“no way! last week’s fight was half an hour long-” hoseok chimes in, “…they can’t possibly argue for longer than thirty minutes… can they?”

“remember that time they fought over a sandwich?” jungkook sighs, leaning his cheek against his fist, “that was a forty minute argument.”

“they fought over a sandwich?” jimin frowns, turning to glance towards the front, “what was there to even argue about??”

“y/n said that the spread was dijon mustard and taehyung said it was horseradish mustard,” seokjin purses his lips, “…i actually ordered the same sandwich and i’m pretty sure it was just regular ol’ yellow mustard… but i’m too afraid to tell either of them they’re wrong about it.”

“oh my god-” jimin scoffs, “forty minutes arguing about mustard?? really??”

“yep! i even recorded the whole thing just because it’s actually pretty interesting listening to two people scream about mustard so passionately for so long,” jungkook pulls his phone out of his back pocket, the rest of the boys scooting in closer to his desk, “by the time we finish watching the video, they’ll… probably be done arguing with each other. maybe.”

“-ow thick is your skull, taehyung? were you dropped on your head as a baby??” you scowl, “if i was a teacher’s pet like you say i am, then i would’ve sweet-talked my way out of being in a group with you. also, you know what? i wasn’t going to bring this up, but the only reason why we’re here during christmas break is because it was your idea to practice during the holidays-”

“yeah! you get to practice your big show in a huge, empty classroom without getting nervous about someone overhearing you practice speaking in your dumb, professional lawyer voice-” taehyung gestures around at the spacious atmosphere, “if this is your way of being thankful to me, you have an awfully funny way of showing it-”

“do you know what i could be doing right now if i wasn’t here?” you scowl, placing your hands on your hips as you glare at taehyung

“hm, let me think…” he hums, leaning back against his chair before kicking his legs up onto his desk, “bending over and trying desperately to pull the fat stick out of your ass?”

jimin sits up a little straighter as he peers over the top of namjoon and seokjin’s heads to check and see if you and taehyung are done arguing yet

your ears are turning red and there’s an animalistic, frenzied look behind your eyes, so... nope. definitely not done yet.

after all this time, he still doesn’t know why you guys fight the way that you do

it’s like you enjoy pushing each other’s buttons and irritating each other until one of you inevitably snaps (you’re usually the first one to fall off the rocker because taehyung is alarmingly good at being irritating)

“ooh, hold on-” jungkook grins, pointing to the screen before whacking jimin’s arm in rapid smacks, “my favourite part is coming up, you have to pay attention-”

jimin looks away from you two and back down at the screen

“-the low acidity liquid gives dijon mustard that intensified heat and the classic pungent flavour which is very obvious in this sandwich!” you exclaim, peeling the top slice of bread off to reveal the inside, “and look at that colour! that is literally dijon mustard-”

“okay, fine! it’s dijon mustard.” taehyung responds while inspecting his nail beds

“no, you’re not listening to- wait… did you just agree with me?”

“yeah!” he sighs, crossing his arms, “the mustard used in your sandwich is dijon mustard. and also, the sky is green-”

“oh my god, you piece of-!”

jimin looks up again when he hears your voice rise a couple of octaves

this is the part of the argument when your ‘i’m-fine-don’t-touch-me-I’M-FINE’ voice comes out

“wow! you are-” you laugh, shaking your head as you lean down and place your hands flat on the surface of taehyung’s desk “you really are something else, kim taehyung. i-!”

you let out a yelp of surprise when taehyung suddenly reaches over and yanks at a section of your hair

“ow!” you whack his hand away before flicking your hair over your shoulder, “wha- what the hell was that for?!”

taehyung doesn’t flinch at your aggressive tone and he looks up at you, completely unfazed, before giving a half-hearted shrug

“it was hanging, like, right in front of me. i couldn’t not pull on it.”

“well, your tie is right there but you don’t see me reaching over and pulling on it to strangle you because it’s right in front of me-”

“oh, threatening to choke me, are we?” taehyung hums, “i’m suddenly feeling very unsafe. should i get one of the guys to call campus security for my protection, miss y/n?”

“do you guys think we should break things off?” seokjin glances over his shoulder at the escalating scene, “ideally, i’d like for this to not turn into a how to get away with murder scenario…”

jimin narrows his eyes slightly as the gears click-click-click away in his head, leaning back against his seat and reaching up to tap at his chin

there’s something about this situation that’s reminding him of something but he can’t quite put his finger on it

“oh my god, you are such a child-!”

jimin’s eyes suddenly widen in realization, a lightbulb appearing at the top of his head

does taehyung like y/n?

...

oh, wow

taehyung has a full-blown crush on you!

how could he not have noticed this before?!

taehyung is literally the bratty little boy pulling on your pigtails because he doesn’t know how else to get your attention on this playground!

a comment from a former conversation with you briefly flits through jimin’s mind as he continues staring at the two of you in awe

he doesn’t remember how exactly you guys started talking about it, but he does remember you saying these words to him:

“i mean… yeah. of course i think taehyung’s attractive. maybe in another universe where he’s not bullying me 24/7, i would be more open to admitting to myself that i might have a slight crush- i-i mean, i- what did we say we were going to get for lunch today?? sandwiches?? we should get sandwiches, the place is right here-”

how could he have forgotten you said that to him?!

it’s like he finally has his hands on the missing puzzle piece... and it’s up to him to finish this puzzle!

“i have a plan.” jimin whispers to himself before reaching over to grab onto jungkook’s wrist, “i know what i have to do!”

“huh?” jungkook frowns in confusion, pausing the video before looking over at him, “what are you talking about?”

“just-” jimin gets up from his seat quickly, the chair screeching against the floor, “just make sure they don’t stop arguing with each other while i’m gone because i might take a while to find what i need-”

“you know, i don’t think that’s going to be an issue,” yoongi snorts, everyone looking towards the front to see you glaring at taehyung like you want to rip his heart out of his chest and eat it raw, “check out that throbbing vein in y/n’s forehead.”

“forget about her forehead vein-” jungkook shakes his head, “has no one else noticed how tightly taehyung clenches his asscheeks whenever he’s pissed? those trousers do not hide anything.”

everyone’s eyes immediately gravitate down to taehyung’s ass, hoseok and seokjin bursting into giggles at the sight

“what the fuck is your problem?!” you scream, taehyung’s eyes widening at your sudden outburst, “you’ve treated me like shit from day one and i’ve literally done nothing wrong!”

“okay! i think we should all just take a step back and take a deep breath…” namjoon gets up from his seat slowly, “it’s getting a little intense-“

“nothing wrong?! oh yeah, because you’re little miss perfect-” taehyung spits out, “don’t play dumb, you know exactly what you did!”

“what did i-!” you throw your hands up into the air, “please, i am begging you to tell me what the horrible thing is that i did that made you decide i was public enemy number one-”

“i heard you talking shit about me at the very beginning of the semester when you didn’t even know me! we’d never met and you didn’t even bother trying to get to know me before you formed your own opinion of me based on the way i looked-” taehyung snaps, “you said that i looked like an entitled, obnoxious frat-boy who didn’t even know left from right and only made it to law school because his daddy gave the school a generous donation- so if we’re really going to talk about who the real asshole is in this room, i would suggest re-evaluating-”

you feel the blood drain from your face at the reminder of what you said about taehyung on the first day of class

...oh.

...

okay, yeah, you... might have said that stuff, but it was only because the other people you were sitting with at the time said stuff like that and... and you were so desperate to find a group of cool law-school friends that you were totally willing to say and do anything they wanted you to do or say!

it obviously didn’t work because you don’t sit with them anymore, so...

yeah, it was a bad move to talk shit about taehyung like that without even having spoken one word to him, but if this proves anything... it’s that peer pressure is dangerous!

“well, why didn’t you just-” you stammer, feeling your face starting to heat up from embarrassment, “why didn’t you just tell me about this earlier? we could’ve nipped it right in the bud-”

“i much prefer the bullying because the feeling i get after seeing the defeat in your eyes is equivalent to a full-body orgasm-”

“oh my god, you sick freak-”

“uh, you guys-” namjoon cuts in again, holding his finger up, “can i just s-”

“okay, fine!” you raise your hands in surrender, “i’m sorry, alright? i’m really sorry. what i said about you was shitty, but i don’t see how bullying me for months on end was a good solution-”

“can you two shut u-”

“oh, i never said it was a good solution, y/n,” taehyung purses his lips, “like i said - i just did it because it was fun-”

“guys, if i could just get one word in-”

“do you even realize how psychotic you sound right no-”

“HEY!” namjoon suddenly bellows, you and taehyung jumping and clamming up immediately in alarm

“what??” the two of you ask at the same time, pausing to glare at each other for a split second before looking back over at namjoon

“i…” he trails off, his eyes flickering upwards, “…know this is kind of awkward timing, but…”

you and taehyung look up simultaneously, your eyes widening to see a dinky little shrub of... mistletoe? taped at the end of a meter stick

oh no

oh hell no

“kiss first, and then you can apologise for what was obviously a huge misunderstanding and you can apologise for being a huge prick later - pucker up, lovebirds!” jimin chirps, waving the stick a little and watching your eyes go side to side like a ping-pong ball, “don’t be shy! also, i know the mistletoe looks like a clump of grass that i tied a red ribbon around- just don’t look too closely at it-”

“ha!” you let out a laugh before shaking your head quickly, “no way! i don’t know what you people think is going on here, but it’s certainly not that- you can’t just dangle a plant over my head and force me to kiss him-”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” taehyung scoffs in offence, tilting his head upwards slightly, “anyone would be honoured to be under the mistletoe with me!”

“yeah. anyone out of their mind.”

“aw, c’mon, you guys…” hoseok pushes his bottom lip out in a pout before clasping his hands together, “kiss and make up! we all know that’s how it works. let the christmas spirit take over your bodies and fuel your weird hate-love for each othe-”

“the sooner you two kiss and make out, the sooner i can get the hell out of here,” yoongi interrupts, snapping his fingers, “c’mon! plant a fat one on each other!”

“the only reason why y/n’s getting whiney about it because she knows she’ll fall in love with me the moment she kisses me.” taehyung suddenly speaks up and you immediately look back down at him with a glare

fall in love????

with him????

it’s not going to take a single kiss to fall in love with taehyung - it’s going to take intensive exposure therapy to fall in love with him!

“don’t flatter yourself. i would rather throw myself into oncoming traffic than kiss you, kim taehyung.” you growl, smacking your hands down on taehyung’s desk so violently that it rattles beneath you

“now, now. there’s no need to lie…” taehyung chuckles lightly as he pushes his seat back slightly and rises to his feet

“i’m not lying! i don’t want to kiss you!”

“do too!”

“do not!”

“do TOO!”

“do NOT!”

“you know, you just sound like you’re trying to convince yourself that you don’t want to kiss me-”

“you’re the one who keeps pushing it-” you jab a finger into his chest, “maybe you’re the one who wants to kiss me!”

“you think i wanna kiss you?!” taehyung laughs, flicking your hand away from him, “now look who the delusional one is!”

“i thought this was supposed to fix the arguing?” seokjin mutters under his breath, jungkook offering him a shrug while keeping his eyes glued on you and taehyung

he was running out of things to watch on netflix and this makes far better entertainment

the only thing that would make this better was if you and taehyung had at it in a grimy boxing ring half-naked

“i can’t be the only one thinking that all of this could be easily fixed if they just boned each other.” jungkook snorts, the other boys turning to look at him, “…what??”

“i wouldn’t kiss you even if you were the last man on earth.” you snarl, your voice wavering slightly

“you really expect me to believe that?” taehyung tilts his head, “don’t think i didn’t catch the way your eyes just flickered down to my lips, y/n...”

you feel your heart starting to pound in your chest when he places his hands flat on the desk as well, the tips of his fingers brushing over yours

at this proximity, the little voice in the back of your head can’t help but point out how pretty taehyung’s eyes are... and how nice he smells... and how soft his lips look...

...do you wanna kiss him?

oh, god

do you wanna kiss kim taehyung?!

no, you don’t

yes, you do

what??

WHAT??

“you wanna kiss me so bad, and you know it, y/l/n.” taehyung taunts, leaning forward just a little more

at this point, your faces are merely an inch away from each other’s and it wouldn’t take much effort to just lean in and… you know.

“i hate you.”

“if you hated me so much, then you wouldn’t be making such a big deal over silly little mistletoe now, would you?” taehyung smirks, pulling away before making his way around the desk so that he can get closer to you, “you like me but you’re too much of a wimp to admit it!”

“i like you?!” you gawk, “more like you like me!”

“okay-” jimin huffs, lowering the stick before taking a step back, “i really thought this was going to work, but my arms are getting tired, so if you two aren’t going to kiss, then i- oh-” his eyes widen in surprise when you and taehyung are suddenly lunging at each other not a second later, your hands cupping his cheeks and his hands gripping your waist as you kiss far more feverishly than he thought you two would

oh my

“see, what’d i say? sexual tension!” jungkook kisses his teeth, leaning back against his chair and crossing his arms, “all that pent-up energy from arguing has led to this beautiful moment-”

“you’re an- mm- you’re an awful kisser, by the way-” taehyung mutters against your mouth, lips turning up in a boyish grin when you retaliate by shoving at his chest

“so are you!” you pull away only for taehyung to pull you right back in to press his mouth against yours again, “’m hating ehvery minute of this-”

“ah… isn’t young love sweet?” hoseok coos, jumping in his seat when taehyung suddenly shoves you up against the front desk with a thud, “so passionate!”

“okay, we’re just going to-” namjoon gets up from his seat gesturing for the boys to get up as well, “we’re happy to see that the argument has been settled!”

he hurries everyone to the front door and turns to glance over his shoulder, “when you guys are done, just… let us know! we’re going to pop over to starbucks for some hot chocolate. so... text one of us. or call! or you could use snapchat- it’s up to you, really-!”

namjoon doesn’t get a chance to say anything else before yoongi’s yanking his arm and pulling him backwards, reaching over to slam the door shut

a moment of silence goes by in which everyone takes a second to process what exactly just happened

“take your shirt off-”

“you take yours off first!”

“i... can’t tell if my plan was a success or a failure.” jimin mutters to himself, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck

“hey, if it makes you feel any better, at least they aren’t arguing with each other anymore!” jungkook cheers, clapping his hands quietly, “it’s a christmas miracle!”

❄️christmas with cee 2020 masterlist 🎄

547 notes · View notes

raplinesmoon · 2 years

Note

Also I’m the same anon who just read on the ropes!

The way you wrote Seokjin as a character 😩😘it made complete utter sense. he wasn’t just the funny guy he had depth and was conceived as a guy who had emotion as well so I LOVED IT😁

Hi On the Ropes anon (that is a mouthful, would you like me to call you something else?) 🥰

You don’t understand, OTR!Seokjin has my entire heart. I actually dreamt up the plot of the fic over a couple of weeks (lucid dreaming hehe 👀), and I just kept coming back to his character as the cornerstone of everything. I wanted to do exactly what you said, create a layered, complex Seokjin who was capable of emotions beyond cracking dad jokes. Not that funny Seokjin isn’t great, but I kind of think back to this one time the boys were asked who was the most romantic and I think Taehyung said Jin? I really saw his character as someone who struggled a lot in life, but also, no joke, falling in love with OC was life changing for them. Not just because of their situation, but also because the two of them, regardless of whether they ended up together or not, would forever inspire this cosmic shift in the other that rendered them unable to live life as they had previously.

It’s funny because I was actually thinking of them the other day and if you’ve read the epilogue, you know how things work out for them. But I wrote down this little scene of them, some time at 3:41am.

pairing: ex-boxer!Seokjin x lawyer!reader (from On The Ropes)

genre(s): fluff, slight angst

au(s): established relationship

word count: 425

warnings: wondering about what ifs

rating: pg (the OTR universe is 18+ in general)

a/n: I lowkey imagined this scene between them where they’re together after the 3 years apart, and just lying in bed (after some marathon sex ofc), and this is just what happens:

*spoilers below the cut if you haven’t read*

You feel Seokjin shift next to you, his warm palms coming to wrap around you waist, pulling you closer to him until you’re both a tangle of limbs, unable to tell where he ends and you begin. His faint breath fans across your neck, and right here, in his arms, you feel the safest you ever have. If home was a person, it’d be Kim Seokjin.

You hear his breath hitch, catching in his throat before he begins to speak. His voice rumbles, and a pleasant warmth settles into your body despite the chilly night air.

“What would you have done?” He asks. “If we’d never found each other again?”

You go limp in his arms, dread settling in at his question. That was a situation you’d never wanted to fathom happening to either of you. But you think back to those uncertain months before you’d found him again, and how you’d never managed to make your peace with the loss of his presence in your life.

You’d been okay, no doubt, doing better for yourself ,finally out of the rut that had plagued you for years. But your soul still felt fractured, as if there would forever be a tiny chip in the delicate glass walls that held your heart, one that would never be able to be repaired. Even if you could move on and live the happiest life you’d imagined, part of you would always belong to him.

Shaking your head, you let out a heavy sigh, not wanting to worry Seokjin this late at night. The two of you had more than enough creases and lines marring your once youthful faces.

“Jagiya,” you whisper against his ear, and immediately feel him melt, arms tightening around you. “I found you again. That’s what matters, right? And every day, I don’t take that for granted.”

Although you can’t see him smile, you feel it, his lips ghosting against your temple.

“I know,” he responds. “But for what it’s worth , ___, you were it for me. I’m not sure I would have ever been able to love someone else like I love you. Even Sooyoung. Everything I’d ever wanted, everything I’d seen my parents have, I wanted it with you. I still want it with you.”

Turning in his arms, you press a soft kiss to his lips, and the two of you linger for a few moments, lost in the feeling of each other. You’d never be able to get enough.

“Good thing we have nothing to worry about then, right?”

“Right.”

46 notes · View notes

angellesword · 3 years

Text

YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (10)

Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It's simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if...Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively:

"A future without you is a world without color."

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

SERIES: CHAPTER 9 | CHAPTER 11

Note: I just wanna dedicate this chapter to @jooniebugg coz your feedback in Your Eyes Tell (09) is <333 and it inspired me to write chapter 10! some lines in this update is my response to your comment heheh :*

You were not in trouble, but Jeongguk was.

"Guk," Jimin let out a breath as he closed his eyes. "Slow down, okay? I can't understand what you're saying."

But Jeongguk couldn't do it. He was sobbing uncontrollably that Jimin literally had to tell him to breathe.

Jeongguk tried to follow the instruction of his best friend's boyfriend. Breathe. It should be easy, right? He only needed to stop thinking about you in able to breathe properly.

Unfortunately, it was difficult to get you out of his mind.

"You good?"

Your soulmate nodded even though Jimin couldn't see his face. They're currently talking over the phone. Jimin called him after finding out what happened during the trial.

It was all over the news. Countless of articles were published online. Most of them were unreliable and full of speculations.

Jimin gave up after reading one sentence. He knew he had to call you to know the truth—or at least the fragments of truth. Jimin wasn't really interested in the case; he was only interested to know what was up with you.

Were you alright?

Jimin found some of your decisions in life questionable, yet he didn't say anything. He remained tight-lipped when you told him about your entangled fate not only with Jeongguk, but also with your assistant and client.

Just like your soulmate, Jimin could not understand why you were trying to defend Kim Seokjin. Their reason was different though. Jeongguk's thoughts were selfish. Jimin, on the contrary, was plain curious.

Why were you so invested in this case?

Was it because of your stubborn nature? Jimin knew that once you set your mind into something, you wouldn't stop until you won.

Jimin only learned to accept your competitive side when he realized that you were raised this way.

You didn't choose to be like this. You were actually forced to be like this. This being the case, Jimin was only able to release an exhausted breath after Jeongguk told him what happened in the courtroom.

Some might say that you pushed too hard, but this didn't give Mrs. Kim the right to hurt you.

"It's my fault, hyung. I wasn't there to protect her." Jeongguk bit the inside of his cheek.

It had been an hour since you locked yourself in your room and Jeongguk wasn't sure whether to comfort you or to just leave you alone.

It felt like you preferred the latter option. Jimin told your soulmate that you weren't answering your phone, an obvious indication that you didn't want to talk to anyone. This was also the reason why Jimin decided to just call Jeongguk to know if you were okay.

You weren't.

It was weird, but Jeongguk was positive he could feel your heart breaking. If this was any other day, he was sure that he would simply ignore this, but something definitely changed. Jeongguk didn't know why, but he had this intense urge to embrace you—to make you feel better.

"But you can protect her now, Guk. It will be hard, but please..." Jimin begged your soulmate. He didn't want to burden Jeongguk; however, the latter was the only person who could comfort you right now.

As much as Jimin wanted to embrace you, he couldn't. He was in Busan, his hometown, at the moment. Jimin was processing some important documents because he's planning to ask Taehyung to marry him.

"W-What can I do to make her feel better?" Jeongguk stammered. He's nervous, but he's decided. He couldn't let you go through this alone. It hadn't even been a day, yet he already missed your goofy side.

"You're a smart boy, Jeon. You'll figure out what she wants."

What do you want?

Jeongguk's heart was recoiling once again. He realized that he never knew what you wanted since you were always catering what others wanted.

You were a people pleaser.

"But if nothing works, just call her parents." This was Jimin's last reminder before ending the call.

Your soulmate didn't understand why Jimin thought it would be a good idea to call your parents. Jeongguk was pretty sure he could bring the smile back on your face without the help of anyone. He just needed to make sure you were not in some kind trouble first.

Jeongguk opened your laptop to send an email to your boss and other clients, telling them that you were taking a break from work.

Jeongguk was tired by the end of the week. Jimin was right. It was difficult to help you get back on your feet, mainly because you weren't trying.

You stayed in bed most of the time, you barely touched your food, and he felt like you didn't even want to live.

You looked so unmotivated that in the end, Jeongguk decided to just message your parents and invite them to your apartment—this was the reason why he was in trouble.

"You can't just do this without consulting me, Jeongguk."

His scowl deepened when you called him using his given name. You only did this when you were serious or mad. In this case, he figured out that you were mad—or at least he thought you were mad. Your voice was rough, similar to the tone you used when you were inside the courtroom.

Jeongguk was scared.

He was scared to upset you again.

"But Jimin-hyung told me to call your parents!" He reasoned out. Blaming your best friend was the only way Jeongguk could think of so that he could finally escape your piercing glare.

It worked.

Your expression softened a bit, though this didn't mean that he wasn't in trouble anymore.

"Jeongguk," this time your voice sounded tired.

"Y-Yes?" He pretended like he was busy sweeping the floor. Everything needed to be perfect because your parents would be here shortly.

You already accepted your tragic fate. It was decided. You were going to meet your mother and father today.

Damn it.

"Why did you block Hoseok's number?"

You saw how Jeongguk froze after hearing your question. No doubt, he was guilty.

"I-I didn't do it!" He lied.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

"You're not a good liar..." Amusement was now dancing in your voice.

Jeongguk had been using your phone to respond to your prospective clients. These people just didn't know how to stop. They kept texting your personal number even though Jeongguk told them that you were on a leave.

Your phone didn't have a passcode that's why he was able to freely access it.

You didn't mind. In fact, you were grateful. He saved your career. If he didn't send a notice of leave to your boss, you were sure you're gonna get fired.

"I'm not lying!" His lips protruded into a sulky pout. "I didn't send those messages!"

"Huh." You arched your brow. "But I only asked why you blocked Hoseok. I didn't say you texted him using my number."

Jeongguk's eyes went wide.

He was instantly busted.

"H-He was spamming you with useless messages!"

"I don't think so," you shook your head as you read the conversation. His excuse just kept on getting worse.

"Wow. You're cold," you could imagine Hoseok's disbelief upon seeing the thumbs up emoji. It was actually apparent by your friend's response.

"Jeongguk..." You called his name again.

"What!?" Why was he getting annoyed?

"You don't want Hoseok to kiss me?"

Jeongguk looked like the emoji he sent to Hoseok.

"And why would I want that!?" His chest was heaving up and down. You couldn't see, but his face was as red as tomatoes.

You suddenly laughed, causing Jeongguk's heart to swell in joy. This was the first time he heard you laugh after weeks of getting used to your impassive face.

Were you finally moving on?

Jeongguk guessed you were. Your expression literally changed the moment your parents arrived.

You looked happy to see them—too happy that Jeongguk felt like he was only imagining your annoyed expression a short while ago.

Didn't you say you hated the fact that he invited your parents to your place?

You did say that. Unfortunately Jeongguk had no idea how much you hated talking to your mom.

You swore you loved her with all of your heart, though her principles were different from what you believed in. It was draining to pretend like you agree with her.

"So how's the case you've been handling, sweetheart?" Your mother's sweet smile made you cringe.

It hadn't been long since she pulled you inside your room to 'talk.'

Your parents had already met Jeongguk. As expected, they loved him. Your soulmate made it very easy to like him. Perhaps it was because of his eyes. Damn those big, doe eyes. It never failed to make your heart melt.

"Good." You walked towards your bedroom door. "Let's go back to the kitchen. I think Jeongguk prepared some desserts."

"Dessert could wait, dear." Your mom offered you another sickening smile. It was the kind of smile that told you to give up. She always had her way of making you follow what she wanted you to do.

"Come on, eomma." You laughed nervously as you told her that your soulmate was excited to let her try his yaksik, a popular dessert that your mom truly loved.

You didn't know how Jeongguk found out your mother's favorite dessert. You just knew that you were willing to eat dozens of yaksik just to get away from your mom. You didn't even care if your stomach was still full after eating the lunch your soulmate had cooked.

Your mom only shrugged her shoulders as if she didn't hear what you said.

"Tell me about the Kim's case." She demanded as she meticulously inspected your wardrobe.

Your heartbeat doubled.

It was easy to simply give into what she desired because you were certain that she wouldn't stop anyway.

Sadly you couldn't speak—not anymore. Not when you knew how all of this would go.

You wanted to move on from this nightmare on your own. All your life, you relied upon what your mother would say.

"You can't be sad over this. It's nothing compared to what I've been through!"

"Stop crying. You just think you're hurt. You're not."

"No. You can't. That shows weakness."

These were some of the things your mother would say whenever you encountered problems in life. She honed you to be this strong person who wasn't allowed to mope.

You remembered her telling you that it was insensitive of you to cry over little things when it was clear that so many people had it worse than you.

This was exactly why you didn't want to meet your mother today. She would force you to stop feeling bad about Seokjin's case since it was petty.

It was funny actually. People admired you for always ignoring the pain you felt.

You found this toxic. It felt like you were expected to be strong—making you feel like you should heal right away and not with your own pace. This was also the reason why you found it hard to open up to people, even if you were really close to that someone.

Your mother made you feel like there would always be some kind of adversary when it came to handling inconveniences in life. Sometimes you wished people would shut up and just listen. You didn't always need advice. What you wanted was for them to stop quantifying pain because people had different tolerance when it came to feeling what's painful and what's not.

"I think I lost," it took everything not to cry in front of her. At the end of the day, you were still afraid to be perceived as weak.

She had that much control over you.

"Why did you lose?" Her voice was stone cold.

Your response was automatic. You told her what happened during the trial in spite of telling yourself that you would never get swayed by her authoritarian nature anymore.

"You don’t have to answer. I know now why you lost." She crossed her arms as she shook her head at you.

"Didn't I tell you? You lost because you didn't acquire enough knowledge." She proceeded to tell you what you already knew.

Your mom always said that knowledge is power, but the word "knowledge" that was delicately tattooed on your Achilles heel said otherwise.

For you, knowledge is downfall. This was why you chose to have that word tattooed on your Achilles heel—a part of your body that symbolized fatal weakness.

You were working as an auditor before you decided to go to law school. You knew this field inside out and it came with a price. You helped a firm conceal fraudulent acts using your knowledge.

It was a dangerous thing. Your mom tolerated your unprofessionalism since she was a major stockholder in the said company. She actually pushed you to continue the misrepresentation; however, you were guilty.

You couldn't do it anymore. You couldn't use the power you acquired to fool people. Law school taught you to uphold justice, but you were blinded once again.

You failed to see the impact of your actions to Soobin, an innocent soul. Maybe your mother was right. You were bound to fail your law career. Maybe you should just go back to the corporate world and help billionaires to achieve their disgusting scheme.

"Sorry," you swallowed hard, looking straight into your mother's eyes. "I'll do better."

"You should be." She gritted her teeth as she continued to invalidate your emotions.

You wondered when the torture would stop. You just wanna lie in bed and sleep the pain away. Luckily Jeongguk came knocking on your door, saving you from your mother's poisonous words.

"Wait," Jeongguk stopped you from following your mom to the living room.

"What's wrong?" He cupped your face; worry was evident in his eyes. You looked like you were in pain.

Did your mother say something to you? Jeongguk wondered.

"Nothing." But you brushed him off before he could ask.

Jeongguk pursed his lips into a thin line. He swore something was wrong, but he didn't want to push it since it was clear that you were not in the mood to talk about it.

But he couldn't stay still knowing that you were bothered. This being the case, he went out of his way just to make you smile.

Jeongguk was being such a good boy. He kept on praising you in front your parents. He was also respectful towards them. His jokes were appropriate and he smiled so kindly at them.

His lingering touch on your wrist, waist, and shoulders didn't go unnoticed by you. It was like he was guarding you from any possible danger.

"What do you think about this, my sweet daughter?" Your father showed you his artwork with a proud smile.

You chuckled.

Jeongguk was teaching your father how to draw.

"You did great, Appa!" You weren't lying. He had done a good job sketching The Hulk.

"Really? What about the color? Do you like it?"

You nodded eagerly. It wouldn't hurt to lie, right?

"I like the shade of green that you used."

You were expecting your father to smile back because of your compliment. Sadly, he only stared at you blankly.

"What?" A nervous giggle escaped your lips.

Your parents and even Jeongguk were making you feel awkward. Why were they looking at you like you were a poor, poor soul?

"This Hulk is color pink." Your father said softly, making your breathing hitch.

He was trying to show contrast. The Hulk was the personification of rage. He colored him pink because in your world, the mentioned color symbolized gentleness. He wanted you to see in his drawing that people should be gentle even though they're angry.

You ruined it.

They probably know by now that you were lying when you said earlier that you could see colors.

Why did you even lie?

Why couldn't you just tell them that Jeongguk wasn't in love with you?

"Ah," you scratched the back of your head. "Is it pink? Sorry, Appa. I'm still trying to learn colors."

Your lie was understandable. You told your parents that you met Jeongguk a few months ago. It was impossible to know all colors in a short period of time.

You knew you weren't a great liar, but damn. When you looked at Jeongguk, he was smiling as he mouthed, "it is okay," to you.

He was saying that you were doing well, that you didn't ruin what your father had been wishing for: he wanted you to be loved by your soulmate.

You felt like Jeongguk loved you.

You couldn't stop staring at your soulmate as he continued to smile brightly at you.

In this moment, you swore you could see the brown in his eyes.

Or so you thought.

You just couldn't have one peaceful day, could you?

"N-No..." Your voice broke, tears falling down on the sheet of paper you were holding.

Your parents already left. Jeongguk was kind enough to drive them back to their hotel.

You were alone in the house.

The paper in your hand was mocking you, telling you that you would forever be alone in this house.

TRANSFER OF OWNERSHIP IN A CONTRACT TO SELL Vendee Jeon Jeongguk of Room 13, Apartment X, Seoul, South Korea—you stopped reading the next words.

You couldn't believe it.

Jeon Jeongguk was going to leave you.

624 notes · View notes

soggykookiesandcream · 9 months

Text

𝐵𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝒴𝑜𝓊 - 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒳𝒳𝒱𝐼𝐼

Yuna's POV

"Why is he coming!" Hoseok whines, "It's our expedition and it's work! Not vacation."

"It's okay, man," Seokjin says, "He just can't stay away from his fiance."

"I am not his fiance," I blush.

"But you would love to be," Hoseok scoffs.

"What is your problem?" I ask.

"My problem is him," he replies.

"I'm sorry there's nothing I can do," I reply.

"There is. Just keep him away from us," he states.

"No," I fight back.

"Hoseok, don't you think you're being ungrateful?" Namjoon asks out of nowhere.

"What?" Hoseok snaps his head to Namjoon.

"He booked us first-class flights, luxury hotels and rooms," Namjoon starts, "And you're here telling Yuna to keep him away after he did so much for us."

"No what-"

"That's enough, Hoseok. Let's just end this topic here," Seokjin interrupts.

"Good idea," Namjoon leans in to take another drink and returns to reading his file, "We've been assigned this one pyramid which was recently discovered by our satellites."

"Show me," I lean towards Namjoon, "It's really small and why is it away from the centre of pyramids?"

"It's a mystery," he replies.

"I can't wait to check it out," I hop on my seat, "I'm so excited!"

"Me too," Seokjin shoves chips into his mouth.

I lean back into my seat and close my eyes sighing.

"Yuna's on cloud nine, isn't she?" Namjoon chuckles.

"I am," I smile.

"Is it because of Taehyung?" Seokjins asks with his mouth full.

I hum, "Kind of."

"I'm so glad he's keeping you happy," Namjoon says.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

Yoongi's POV

"He's tagging along with us!" Hoseok yells from the other end of the phone.

"What? Why!" I hit the table, "Why does he have to put his annoying ass self in everything."

"He's gonna be with Yuna all the time," Hoseok sighs, "You won't be able to meet her."

"I want to meet her!" I yell.

"Well, you can't!" Hoseok yells back, "I don't know. She isn't gonna listen to me. Just give up on her, man. Just give up," he hangs up.

I sit down frustrated.

"Sir," my guard calls me.

"What?" I snap.

He flinches, "The police are here for.. you?"

"What?" I raise my eyebrows and stand up. The police come rushing into my office.

"Mr Min Yoongi, you are under arrest for taking videos and uploading them to the internet without consent," the officer states.

"No," I shake my head.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have a lawyer present during any questioning," the officer cuffs me and pulls me out of my office. I resist but it was of no use. They pull me out of the building into a sea of reporters flashing their cameras at me. I look down trying to avoid them. The officer pushes me into their car and cuffs me to a hook inside.

"I need to call my lawyer!" I yell.

"Remain calm," the officer says, "You will get to make a phone call at the station."

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

Taehyung's POV

"Mr Min Yoongi of Em Industry is currently being arrested for invasion of privacy. A few weeks ago, he recorded Mr Kim Taehyung, CEO of Kim Enterprises and a woman named Min Yuna without consent and uploaded it on the internet."

"Mr Kim Taehyung's videos went viral on the internet! Mr Min Yoongi probably gained a lot off of this. What a shameless man!"

I chuckle as I hear the reporters announce Yoongi's arrest. This is what you get when you mess with the wrong person. I should have just killed you and the rest of your family back then, huh? People like you make me want to stop being nice. I should be nice only to my dear.

I rest my head on the headrest of my chair. My dear is the only one who deserves my kindness. I wish I could take her on a vacation, buy her everything, love her, pleasure her and make love till she cannot handle it. I smile at the thought of a small beach date with her, me on my knees with a ring, proposing to her, her sweet smile when she says yes, or maybe a few tears of happiness? I chuckle. I'll hold her in my arms and kiss her softly as the sun sets into the water, I'll plan a grand wedding and marry her. She'll be my wife, she'll be mine. Mine to love, mine to touch, mine to enjoy, mine to do everything. I'll love her so much. And then, I'll make her the mother of my kids. I smile. By the time I'm married to her, I'll have already told her who I am and what I am. I would be able to assure her that she will go through no pain during pregnancy. I can't wait.

"Sir?" I hear my secretary, "Did you see the news?"

"Yes," I grin.

"You must be happy," he smiles

"I am," I reply, "But he'll probably get out soon with his influence."

"We can lock him in with your influence!" My secretary suggests.

"No," I chuckle, "I want him to come out and suffer."

"You're very evil, sir," he chuckles, "Do you need something?"

"Nope," I dismiss him and take out my phone to see my lock screen. She is so beautiful. I sigh and open her contact and call her.

"Hello," she says from the other side, "Is my baby missing me?"

"Very much," I whisper, "Your baby is missing you."

"Aww," she giggles, "Just be patient, baby. I'll get home soon after work. You can see me then."

I just stay silent.

"Is there a problem, Taehyung?" She asks, "Do you have to stay late at your office or something? If so, I can come to your office after work."

"No, no," I shake my head and smile.

"Then why were you silent?" She asks.

"I just didn't know what to say," I reply, "Words are so inferior against your love."

She giggles. I can imagine her blushing, "So cheesy. I'm hanging up, baby. See you at home."

"Wait!" I stop her.

"What?" She asks.

"Check the news," I tell her.

"Oh..? Okay," she says, "Is that all?"

"Yes, don't forget to check," I remind her, "Bye, dear."

"Bye!" She hangs up.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

Hoseok's POV

Yuna rushes into our room and switches the TV on.

"Yuna, why are you turning the TV on-" Namjoon asks being annoyed.

"I'm just gonna check the news," she states as she surfs the channels.

"When did Yuna start watching the news?" Seokjin laughs.

"Never," she sighs as she gets to a news channel, "Taehyung told me to check the news."

"Mr Min Yoongi of Em Industry arrested for invasion of privacy! He was proved of recording Mr Kim Taehyung, CEO of Kim Enterprises and a woman named Min Yuna without consent and uploading it on the internet. This happened several times and several videos of them were uploaded."

"EH!" A man on the TV says, "He is probably going to come out with nothing more than a slap to the wrist. Police never do anything to the rich people."

My eyes widen, "What the hell?"

Yuna scoffs, "He deserves it."

"No, he doesn't!" I yell as I get a phone call. I step aside and answer the call.

"Hello, Hoseok," I hear a familiar deep voice, "I assume that you saw the news. I just wanted to remind you that,"

"You will be the next if you don't stay out of my way."

1297 words

0 notes

jimlingss · 3 years

Text

Black Waltz [1/2]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 [Finale]

➜ Words: 13.2k

➜ Genres: 70% Fluff, 30% Angst, Butler!AU

➜ Summary: When your parents pass away in an accident, a family secret is revealed. The only person you can trust and rely on is your personal butler, Kim Taehyung.

The caskets are small. You’re not sure why but you always imagined that they’d be bigger. The undertaker already reassured you thrice that the bodies of your parents fit perfectly. Perhaps they were always that small. “Poor girl.” Someone murmurs in the corner, not realizing that you can hear above the discordant sobs. “She’s already such a weak child. How will she handle this?” “How do you suppose?” a man replies in a sharp mutter. “She’s just become one of the richest people in Trulia overnight. Look at this entire estate. All thanks to her father’s watch business.” “Will you have more delicacy?” she bites back in a whisper. “A man and woman just died.” You don’t bother looking at them. You don't cry either. Not a single tear sheds down your cheeks as you look through your netted veil to the closed coffins belonging to your parents. Even the gardener is sobbing into his hat, but you don’t. Your expression remains stoic. A man approaches, dark hair and darker suit. He bows his head towards the caskets and then turns to you standing by. You recognize him the few times you saw him in passing. He’s your father’s worker, Yoongi. “My condolences, Miss Y/N.” “Thank you.” “Your father was a great man. It was a privilege to work under his guidance. I’m sorry this happened.” You nod and he takes that you don’t want to extend the conversation and leaves you be. It was an unfortunate accident. More specifically, a railroad accident. It claimed the lives of many and that also included your parents coming home from a trip to Germany. “Eugene!” Suddenly, Uncle Seokjin throws himself over the casket. A few distraught folks try to pull him back, but he continues to howl, “How could you leave your only brother like this!” Aunt Marie cries louder into her handkerchief. It’s noisy. In the midst of the ruckus, the corner of your eye catches an older man with brunette hair. The wrinkles crease around his eyes with his sorrowful expression and he takes off his top hat as he approaches. You watch as he places a rose in front of your mother’s casket and then he turns to leave without addressing you. “Oh, Y/N!” Your attention is ripped away by your hysterically sobbing uncle grabbing your hands. “Poor Y/N!” Someone takes him away before you get the chance to shove him off. // Everyone gathers in the dining room not even a full day after the funeral. The wallpaper is dark, black trim that matches the hardwood. The long table is mahogany and there’s an unnecessary golden chandelier hanging from the ceiling. You’ve always hated this room and its decorations, especially the heavy curtains that block out the sunlight. “Y/N!” Your uncle draws out your name and smiles widely as he comes before you with open arms. He gives you a quick squeeze much to your dismay and then lets go. The middle-aged man searches your expression. “My favourite niece.” “I’m your only niece.” “Which makes you even more special to me.” His words are sweet. He shakes his head. “What did you ever do to deserve this?” You wonder the same thing. Aunt Marie clears her throat and Uncle Seokjin flounders. “Right, right, we should take our seats.” Your eyes lift to your cousin who smiles at you, dressed in a navy frock coat with an ascot tie. “It’s been a while, Y/N. I didn’t think you’d notice but I was greeting guests at the funer—” “I noticed.” You cut Hoseok off mid-sentence with his mouth still open. Aunt Marie chastised him under her breath to sit down and at the same time, the family lawyer enters with his briefcase. He’s been working with your family before you were even born. You could feel his sincerity when he spoke at the memorial. “Good evening everyone. Y/N.” Mr. Kim — Namjoon as your parents familiarly called him — nods at you in sympathetic acknowledgment and takes his place at the head of the table where your father once sat. He reaches for his briefcase and opens it up for a sealed envelope inside. “I never thought there would be a day like this. Most unfortunate indeed.” “A heartbreaking tragedy,” Aunt Marie agrees. “But no time like the present for us to fulfill their last wishes.” Mr. Kim slips out the crisp papers and then his eyes flicker up at you. You subtly motion to him that you’re ready for it to be read and he clears his throat. Your relatives are sitting on the edge of the seats, hands clasped on the table in anticipation. “I, Arden Eugene, resident in the City of Lennox, Country of Trulia, being of sound mind, declare this to be my Last Will and Testament, hereby revoking all prior wills and codicils made by me. I appoint my wife, Arden Hana, to inherit all my assets.” The lawyer continues, “In the event where my wife is unable to inherit...all my assets, including the investments, savings and the estate, liquid and otherwise, I leave my daughter, Arden Y/N, in their entirety.” Your aunt’s jaw ticks, your uncle has a face of disgust and your cousin’s jaw has dropped. You’re not sure why they’re so offended. It’s not a surprise. This is what you expected. That is until Mr. Kim adds the word— “temporarily.” Your head turns. The lawyer’s mouth continues to move. “Until the date and time when her half-sibling will be found.” You’re not sure what happens first. The gasps echoing in your ears, Aunt Marie nearly falling off her seat in laughter, your uncle standing up from his spot, or your own heartbeat thundering in your ears as blood drains from your face. You feel ill, like you might throw up right on the table. A half-sibling. Another child. There was another child all along. “—to which ownership of all asserts will thereby be shifted onto them.” “What is the meaning of this?!” Uncle Seokjin protests. “What child?!” “I’m sorry, Mr. Arden. I only know as much as you do.” Mr. Kim’s eyes place on you before he resumes reading. “I give my daughter, Arden Y/N, a pocket watch.” The amused snicker of your aunt is all too clear. A small box is placed in front of you. It’s the size of your hand, a deep wine red. For a moment, you want to huck it on the floor, but with your breath held in your throat, you nudge the lid open. It’s a perfectly round contraption, the cover golden and perfectly polished, reflecting against the candlelight. You flip it open to find handles ticking away as seconds and minutes pass. “To my brother, Seokjin, my sister, Marie, and her son, Hoseok, I wish them the very best in the rest of their lives.” Aunt Marie scoffs. Uncle Seokjin collapses back onto his seat. The will is finished being read and the paper is folded. The room is full of a tense silence as you stare at the watch. Mr. Kim clears his throat again. “As you are aware of the laws, Y/N, all assets are entitled to you temporarily. But as you have no husband to collect the inheritance, it makes things a bit more complicated. You may still live at this estate and continue the company, but you cannot alter it in any way. That includes liquidating, removing, expanding, or withdrawing. You do not have the jurisdiction to alter the company or any of the investments either.” Everything is essentially frozen. They left you with nothing. “Yes.” The corner of Aunt Marie’s lip curls and she sits back. “Even if you are twenty one, you need a husband to own land and wealth. Trulia’s quite old-fashioned, isn’t it?” Trulia — a small country that bridges France and England together, cutting the English channel into half. You’ve lived here all your life, born and raised, and never hated it more. “Y/N.” Hoseok breaks your train of thought and you look him in the eyes. Your expression remains impassive. “Did you know you had a sibling?” You hate it all. // The bedroom is shrouded in darkness as you sit back in the armchair. You’re loosely holding the cold, golden chain of the pocket watch, studying it as it swings back and forth. It’s like a clam, but without any engravings, designs or even ridges on the surface. It’s heavy, perfectly new and polished, the time precise. When both handles of the pocket watch come to twelve, the grandfather clock from downstairs chimes throughout the mansion. Your other hand crumples into a fist and with a strangled cry in your throat, you hurl the pocket watch across the room with all your might. It clatters to the ground, ear-splitting. A figure emerges from the shadows, leans down and picks it up with his white gloves. “Madam, are you not well?” “Don’t call me madam,” you snap at him. Taehyung comes closer, his dark hair slicked back, dressed in the usual black tailcoat and trousers. His smile is tender. “You are the head of the household now.” Arm propped up on the armrest, you press your hand to your forehead. “It makes me feel old.” “Then I won’t, my lady. I apologize.” He places the pocket watch on the vanity table and comes to your side. You look up at him, wondering if you look as bitter as you feel. “Even when they’re dead, they have to have the last laugh, Taehyung. They spared me nothing.” Your eyes sting painfully, the lump at the bottom of your throat aching. Anger has coloured your vision red. You’re so full of hate, but you wonder why most of all, it hurts. “I can’t believe my parents didn’t love me even after their death.” Taehyung kneels and takes your hands that are crumpled hard enough that your nails sink into your skin. He earnestly gazes at you. “You have me. I’ll be with you until the end.” He promises it rather recklessly. But he’s more than just your butler. More than just a worker in this house. He’s been a friend since childhood. The only one you can fully trust. Taehyung’s expression softens even more and he reaches out. He hugs you, propping your chin on his shoulder, placing his arms around your back. “You can cry.” You scoff. “You’re stepping over the line.” “Then discipline me.” You bite the inside of your cheek, vision becomes foggy as tears hang onto your lash line. “Why should I cry for those people? If...if anything, I should cry for my own circumstances.” Taehyung smiles. “Cry then.” For the first time, you let go. You sob into his shoulder, grasp his coat with tight fingers, allowing yourself to be at grief’s mercy. Wails choke out of your chest and the thick lump finally escapes your throat, leaving it raw and aching in a different way. The tears stain a path down from your welling eyes to your cheeks and then Taehyung’s shoulder like a chilling rainstorm. It feels like minutes tick away until you’ve cried yourself to exhaustion. By then, you’re so weak and you can barely open your swollen eyes. But Taehyung guides you to bed and pulls the covers. He tucks you in, making sure you’re warm. “Get some sleep.” You nod and he extinguishes the flame in the oil lamp. Sleep comes easier than you expect. // When dawn arrives, the light of the sun comes through the white curtains to cast against your eyes. You stir uncomfortably before your lids flutter open. The world is bleary in your fogged vision and your body is heavy. You don’t want to get up, but you have to. “Good morning, mistress.” Taehyung enters, dressed in his black trousers and tailcoat with a white waistcoat underneath. His hair is pushed back in a windswept look. He sets down the golden tray balancing a water bowl and cloth. “Glad to see you’re already awake.” “Couldn’t sleep more if I wanted to.” You round the bed and collect the water to wash your face before pressing the cloth to your skin. Taehyung steps towards your wardrobe. “Would you like me to replace the curtains?” “It’s fine. I don’t want to wear anything too restricting today.” He hums. “Then will an aesthetic dress do? Green?” “Is there a dark blue?” Taehyung swiftly takes out a simple gown, cut loosely with a few frills at the neckline and a red, ribbon sash around the waist. The shade is a midnight blue and perfectly to your tastes as if he read your mind. It’s without any restrictive corset too. Heaven knows today is going to be suffocating enough, you don’t need to make it more difficult for yourself. You stand in front of the three panel mirror folded into a nook and lift your arms up. Without batting a single lash or looking twice, Taehyung undresses you from the silk sleepwear and helps you into the camisole before draping the dress over your figure. You sit at the vanity and he gently brushes out your hair. “Taehyung.” “Yes, my lady?” You look at him through the mirror. “Do you think I can do this?” His eyes flicker up and he smiles. “Of course you can.” “What if they don’t find me intimidating enough?” “Then I’ll stand beside you and help you with that.” What he says has you bursting out in laughter. You spin around in your seat, and Taehyung’s completely unsuspecting when you squeeze his cheeks together. His rounded eyes blink and his lips mimic a fish’s. It makes you grin. “You’re more of a puppy than a guard dog.” But well, you suppose it’s not important what the truth is. The illusion is what matters most. He pins half of your hair up and you barely powder your face before you’re leaving for the family meeting. On the way, you brace yourself, only temporarily interrupted by the gardener, Park Jimin, a man who’s been working on the estate for the past three years. He takes care of the garden well, better than your mother ever could. Her roses always withered. He, on the other hand, has quite the green thumb. “Good morning, madam.” Jimin greets you merrily. “Good morning, Jimin.” You slow in the entrance hall and Taehyung behind you does as well. “I hope you and the others are doing well. Thank you for still being here.” The young male blushes. “We’re just doing our jobs, ma’am. You already gave us a whole week’s break which we’re more than thankful for. We just had to come back for the funeral to honour Mr. and Mrs. Arden. So there’s no need to worry about us.” “I’m glad then.” Your smile eases. “Please continue, don’t let me stop you.” He nods and goes on his way. The moment Jimin’s gone, your expression hardens as you enter the main lounge area. There your uncle, aunt, and cousin are seated around and you recognize your father’s worker, Yoongi as well. You’re not sure since when this house became a guest home where anyone can enter and loiter in as they please. You’ll have to have a word with Taehyung later. “Y/N! My dear niece!” Uncle Seokjin’s loud and he stands from the armchair with an enormous smile that looks like it’s about to break his face. At that, everyone’s head swivels around. Yoongi slowly rises from his seat as well. But your uncle continues, “I hope you had a good sleep. I could barely get a wink thinking about your father and our happy days. Speaking of which, I was thinking about how empty this house will be with your parents gone. Isn’t it time for you to get married? You’ve been of age for a while. I happen to know this very kind young man from England. His name is Mark. I’d be happy to introduce—” “Uncle Seokjin.” You stop him. “I’d rather not have you speak about my private affairs in front of a stranger.” His pupils flicker to Yoongi and his mouth closes with a smile. “Right.” You turn to said man and he nods his head in acknowledgment. “Would you like to have tea in the parlor?” “No, this will only take a moment. I’m sure you’re already busy. My apologies for coming unannounced.” “It’s not a problem. What is this about?” “Your father’s company,” Yoongi says. “There is a client waiting for a shipment and since we closed we’ve been unable to finish the order. Would you like to refuse it?” “No. It’s fine.” You hold in your sigh and press your finger against your forehead for a moment. Then, you come to a decision. “You may continue and run business as usual. You may act as the temporary lead, Min Yoongi.” At the announcement, Hoseok rushes upwards with his jaw gone slack. “I could!” Heads turn towards him. “I-If you need me to! I could take over! T-Temporarily, of course!” Your eyes narrow into your cousin, your expression cold. “There’s no need, Hoseok. I’m sure Mr. Min here will already have his hands full. There'll be no time to properly train you and no way you could take over.” “But—!” You ignore him to address your father’s right hand. You’re not sure if this is the right decision, but Yoongi comes across as sensible and rational. He doesn’t seem to have any malicious intention or ulterior motives either. At least your father trusted him, so you will too. “I’ll take a look at the finances and figure out the details soon enough of where the company will move forward from now on. But for now, I will entrust you to it. Please proceed as you normally would.” Yoongi nods. “Thank you, Miss Y/N.” You shift on your feet and look to your butler whose height towers your own. “Taehyung, can you please see Mr. Min out?” He puts his gloved hand over his heart and bows. “Certainly.” The two men leave the room while your cousin crosses his arms and drops back down into the sofa with a displeased face. Aunt Marie’s eyes are narrowed in on you and she sighs, shaking her head. She comments, “You’re quite close with that butler of yours, Y/N. A bit too close, if you ask me.” Your brow cocks. “You don’t have any authority in this household to make such comments, Aunt Marie.” “I am merely looking out for you, Y/N,” she quips with an underlying sharpness to it. “You never know what rumours can get out and they can get quite nasty. It wouldn’t do you any good to be in a scandal. It’s best if you weren’t so close to the such lowly—” “I choose who I want to affiliate myself with.” Your voice booms throughout the room, unknowing to how Taehyung’s already returned and that he’s standing just outside of the room. “Taehyung is my most trusted confidant. To insult my personal aid is to insult my choices and thereby, me. From now on, I will not take such things lightly.” Aunt Marie shuffles back with a cough and the room’s swept into an uncomfortable silence. Taehyung smiles to himself and notices a timid maid rolling a cart down the hall towards the room. He takes over and dismisses her to which she’s grateful for, knowing the room is tense. But Taehyung is unaffected as he enters with an exaggeratedly cordial expression. He places down a cake stand of pastries on the table, then the teacups. “There, there. Let’s not get so upset in the morning.” Your uncle sits down and you find your place in front of the fireplace and the imposing family portrait above the mantle. In the meanwhile, Taehyung pours the tea with one hand in front of him. It’s earl grey, your favourite. You sip it warmly while your expression remains stoic. Uncle Seokjin clears his throat. “Your cousin, aunt and I have been discussing, Y/N—” “And?” He smiles. “We think it’s best if we...join forces.” The tea is no longer pleasant on your palate, so you set it down on the porcelain saucer. “How so?” “Well….” “We don’t know who this half sibling of yours is, Y/N,” your aunt cuts to the chase. “Who knows who they could be or what they would want with us! It is simply outrageous that an outsider could come and collect everything that your parents have worked so hard for and take everything away. Your father clearly had some misunderstandings when he gave us nothing and you so little. I believe he must not have been well when he wrote that will. There must be some mistake.” Uncle Seokjin nods and Hoseok finds the opportunity to jump in. “I have a friend who’s working in law. There must be ways we can challenge the will or at least find a way to claim back what should be rightfully ours!” ‘Rightfully ours’. You want to laugh. “So you want to sneak the money away?” “You shouldn’t put it that way.” Your uncle laughs heartily. “It’s more like making a wrong a right!” “Yes!” Hoseok enthusiastically nods. “We can’t just let someone else steal it, Y/N! What if tomorrow someone comes knocking on the door claiming to be your brother or sister, and they want to take everything away?” Aunt Marie offers a smile. “It’s best if we work together on this matter.” Taehyung steps behind you, shadowing your form as your relatives look at you expectedly. They have a point, but you’re not at all tempted by their most generous offer. “No.” “Pardon?” “I said no.” Your arms cross and you sit back. “Everything is already in my name, the estate, the investments, the company, albeit temporarily, but I’ll figure out what is to come on my own.” Hoseok’s mouth draws open. Your uncle is unable to muster a rebuttal. You scoff, rolling your eyes as if their very proposition is ridiculous. It’s too easy to play the villain — and it’s the only way you know how to protect yourself. “And why should I have to accept your help and have to split up my parents’ wealth when I can take it all for myself.” “Why you!” Aunt Marie stands up, face reddened. “Ingrate!” Her hand raises, arm extending back. But before she can slap you like she wants and knock your head to the side, Taehyung snatches her wrist. He’s faster than anyone can blink and he clutches her back, glare boring into her skin. Her teeth grit and she rips back her hand to her chest. You rise to your feet, eyes placed at the god awful antique cabinet on the other side of the room. “If that’s all everyone wants to say, then you can leave now. Thank you for coming to the funeral but from now on, none of you have permission to enter this estate until I announce otherwise.” Your aunt scoffs and with her remaining pride, she stomps out. Hoseok’s brows are knitted together at a loss while your uncle is already trying to reason with you. But you leave through the doorway and allow Taehyung to take care of the rest. // The streets are full in the afternoon bustle — hooves clacking as horses pull the street car, ladies with parasols giggling as they cross, shouting coming from the tenement windows above, wheels of the carriages rolling along the dirt. It’s the symphony of the city. But he leaves it all behind for a short carriage ride away. It’s a short uphill climb on foot that follows, but he swiftly gets to the magnificent mansion on a stretch of green behind black gates. It’s quaint here. A girl in a maid ensemble scurries over and opens up the gates for him. “Right this way.” The man is led up the path and he removes his top hat as he enters. The manor is darker on the inside, the wallpaper a deep shade, black trim matching the hardwood. He knows every inch of this place is ridden with wealth, from the chandeliers, the ornate carpet underneath his feet to the glass cabinets full of antiques. It’s old money that will last for centuries. But he doesn’t get to admire it for too long. A taller man with slicked back hair wearing a black tailcoat approaches. “If you’d follow me, sir.” He nods and silently shadows the butler to the west wing. They twist down the corridor before turning a left to two large doors. The butler opens them and he hesitantly enters after. There’s a figure behind the desk at the very back wall, an inked pen in her hand. He muses that the lady looks much too young to be residing so deep inside of this mansion surrounded in papers in the low lighting. She might be even younger than himself. “Taehyung, stay.” You mutter out of the corner of your mouth before he can leave. The doors shut and you finally look up as Taehyung takes his place beside you. “You are Detective Jeon?” He has brunette hair and brightened doe eyes, rather boyish looks overall. But you know better than to underestimate anyone simply based on appearances. “Yes, ma’am. I am Jeon Jungkook from the Bennett Detective Agency.” He comes up to you with his briefcase in hand and gingerly places a business card on the desk. “I believe you contacted me for a private investigation.” “Yes. I did.” You stand, going to the seating area and he follows suit. “Would you like tea?” “No, ma’am. I’m fine, but thank you very much.” You nod, noticing how Detective Jeon’s eyes flicker to Taehyung who comes to pour your cup. He finally asks, “How may I be of service?” You take a sip, savouring the flavour on your palate before placing the floral porcelain cup down. Your expression is indifferent as you sit back. “As you may have heard, my father and mother recently passed away in a railway accident.” “I read it from the newspaper. My condolences. Your father was a very charitable man and did a lot for Trulia.” “Yes, well, they left behind a will and revealed that I happen to have a half-sibling that is to inherit this estate.” It goes silent. A pin could drop in the room and echo. You inhale a breath and continue, “I want you to find this sibling of mine and tell me who they are, where they are, and what they’re doing. If you can do it, I’ll pay you a generous sum. However much you want. However long it takes.” Detective Jeon nods. He doesn’t seem too surprised or curious. You suppose he must be used to this sort of thing in his line of work. It was through your connections that you found him. He’s an upcoming private detective, but what he lacks in experience, he makes up in tenacity and foresight. He’s the best that Trulia has. “Do you have any leads?” You hum. It’s remarkable he asks that. You’ve been thinking about it — picking apart every single memory, all instances there could have been a hint, each time you could have been blinded to such a secret. “I don’t have any leads, but I have suspicions.” The detective leans in closer, doe eyes placed on yours. “I believe my sibling may be older than me and I believe contrary to any initial hunches, it may be my mother’s child.” Maybe your father knew and something had happened. Maybe he was ridden with guilt and that’s why he decided to give everything to your sibling. “I remember, years ago, my mother came in one drunken night and she told me about her previous lover. She was supposed to marry him and they even ran away together, but my grandparents found them and she was forced to marry my father. It’s possible that she may have had a child with him before I was born. And it may be possible he came to the funeral.” Detective Jeon takes out his notepad and begins scribbling. He bobs his head and you inhale a staggering breath as you continue to talk. You never thought you would have to divulge into your parents’ secrets after their death, that you would have to reveal all you know to a stranger. But you have to do what it takes if you want to find this person before your aunt and uncle do. “I saw a man about your height. He looked old, about fifty or so. He put a rose at my mother’s casket and left without speaking to me. I have never seen him before in my life.” “Did you see anything else about him?” “Nothing that would be helpful. He had brown hair, but he was wearing black as everyone else was. He left before I could get to him.” “Did your mother ever tell you anything else? Where they ran away to? What they were planning to do afterwards?” “No. She only ever spoke to me about it on that one occasion.” Frankly, you’re not sure if you want to know, but you push past the thought. Detective Jeon notes it and something prickles in your mind. “If you can, I want you to also look into Park Jimin as well.” His eyes lift off his paper. “He’s a gardener that works at this estate,” you tell him. “He’s always been close to my mother.” And unusually so. She never cared much for the help, but you’ve seen them walking together before and conversing on numerous occasions. “I’ll see what I can do for you.” The detective smiles and once the conversation concludes, he takes his briefcase. “Oh and Detective Jeon.” Your voice stops him on his way out and he turns. “It would be best if no one finds out about this, namely my relatives. They can be quite...nosy.” He looks at you and smiles. “Understood.” Taehyung sees him out and you take a moment to recline back into the armchair, gandering at the many bookcases lining the walls. You never thought you would one day sit in your father’s study like this. He was in here more often than any other room and somehow, it always seemed so big when you were a child. Taehyung comes back within minutes and you can tell by the expression on his face that he has questions. The corner of your mouth tugs and you languidly bat your hand. “Ask away.” “What are you planning to do when you find them?” “I’ll kill them, of course.” You get onto your feet, slowly rounding the desk. There’s a glass paperweight on the surface and you pick it up to fiddle with it. There’s a floral print inside and it catches the light no matter what direction you turn it to. You gave this to your father for his birthday one year. “I can’t return to being that naive person like you hope I will, Taehyung.” You’re not children anymore. As much as you wish, you can’t go back to that simple time. “I know.” You twist on your heel, looking him straight into his eyes. “Then will you help me?” He closes the distance in two strides and leans down to take your other hand. His plush lips kiss against your knuckles and he swears his loyalty yet again, “I’ll do anything for you, mistress.” // The next afternoon, you gather the entire estate’s servants together — the cooks, kitchen workers, maids and footmen. They look nervous at the sudden impromptu gathering, glancing at one another and quietly murmuring. You clear your throat loudly and their attention is taken. “As you all know, recently my father and mother, Mr. and Mrs. Arden, have passed away. And I have become the new head of household. You have done a well enough job to be here and your services are much appreciated. For those who came to give their condolences at the memorial, it is something I will not forget. However, your loyalties must belong to me, not to my late parents.” There are worried glimpses exchanged and you begin to pace in front of them. “As I am now the lady of the Arden estate, I would like to begin anew.” You can’t afford to feed so many mouths, considering all the wealth is frozen. You’ll be paying with what you personally have until you can find a solution with Mr. Kim. Not to mention, you’re not sure who can be trusted, who your uncle and aunt have already persuaded. The last thing you need is extra eyes and ears in this house. “From now on, Taehyung will be the manager of this household. He will see to it that the household will still function. If you have any questions, ask him. If you have any concerns, then ask him. He will come to me with whatever he cannot solve.” “Few of you will stay and I thank the rest for serving this house for so long. I will make sure your severance pay is generous enough until you will be able to find work elsewhere. If your name is called, you may stay.” Taehyung, standing behind you, begins reading from the list. One of the three names called is none other than Jimin himself. The gardener smiles out of relief, eyes crinkled into half-moons. “Thank you, madam.” You nod and once it’s done, you leave for the study as Taehyung takes care of the rest. You don’t want to stay around to see disheartened expressions or hear pleas to stay. So you’re resigned to watch out of the upper windows instead. You’ve allowed them a few days to leave, but some are already taking their exit with their belongings with them, tearfully looking back at the mansion. It’s difficult but it needs to be done. “My lady…” You hear Taehyung come from behind you. You shift away from the window. “You’ll help me look for new help?” “Of course.” “Do you think four maids and one cook will suffice?” You count on your fingers. There’s already Jimin taking care of the gardens, you kept one maid so he’ll only have to hire three, and there’s a trustworthy kitchen maid too. It’s not like you need that many hands to take care of the estate. “Or will you need more help?” “That’ll be fine.” The edge of Taehyung’s mouth pulls. “I could technically do it all, if you’d like.” “And have you fainting on me from exhaustion?” You notice lint on his coat tail, so you come up to him and gently dust off his shoulder. “I think not.” Taehyung’s sly smile tugs. “Do you consider me delicate?” “No. But I am,” you clarify, looking up at the man. “If you’re not here twenty four seven attending to me, then what would be the point of having you around?” You brush past him, mumbling, “Can’t have you in the kitchen when you’re supposed to be by my side.” The man stifles back a laugh to himself, yet his grin is all too evident. “Yes, madam.” You glare at him over your shoulder, but it reminds you, “Tell the new help not to call me madam. You know I don’t like it.” He puts his hand over his heart and bows exaggeratedly. “Yes, young mistress.” You scoff. The title is not that much different and he knows it too. He always knows how to be cheeky, but you let it go because he’s Taehyung. It’s not like you can ever be upset with him for long. He’s already won before the game’s begun. // A few days later, there’s a knock at your door. It’s unusual. Taehyung never knocks and your suspicions are confirmed when an unfamiliar girl is sticking her nose into the room. “Umm...pardon me.” It’s an unfamiliar girl in a maid ensemble, a black dress with white trim and a ruffled apron with a headpiece. Her hair is dark and shiny, features sharp. You assume she must be one of the new ones. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t find Butler Kim, I just wanted to let you know that Mr. Kim, the lawyer— I think, is in the parlor. He instructed me to tell you that he’s brought it.” You nod and get up. But you stop for a second and come eye to eye with the girl. “What’s your name?” “Jane.” She smiles to herself as if she’s happy you’ve made a note of it. “If you could clear the teacup from the table.” “Oh! Certainly!” She rushes over and you don’t linger. True to what’s been told, the middle-aged lawyer is sitting in his chair and he staggers up as you come into the room. “It’s good to see you well, Y/N, and that you’ve taken charge of this estate so well.” “Thank you.” You motion to the armchair. “Please, sit.” “I brought your parent’s business expense reports as you asked.” Mr. Kim takes it from his briefcase and hands you the thick folder after settling down. “I didn’t think I would have it until I remembered there was a box in my office closet meant for this sort of thing. My office ended up branching out and opening a professional accounting firm a year ago, you see, so we no longer do bookkeeping.” You flip open to find your father’s writing, then pages of Mr Kim’s. The reports match up with what he says. It stops a year ago. You might need to get into contact with Yoongi to find the more recent expense documents. “Thank you for this. It will be very helpful to me.” The lawyer nods. “Anytime, child. Now about what you talked to me about last time….” “Yes, how is that coming along?” He sharply inhales. “As I suspected, it will be difficult to challenge the will in court, Y/N. It hasn’t been done before and it may be costly. For now, my first submission is still in process, so we’ll have to see if we can even speak to a judge. I’ll let you know how that comes along.” You’re grateful he’s still of help to you. He's older than your father is, but you suppose he must enjoy his line of work to not retire at this age. “Mr. Kim, if I may ask a question. Were...you aware that I had a sibling?” The man smiles sadly. “Unfortunately, I was not. The will was sealed and I was simply entrusted to read it to you all. It took me by surprise as much as it did for you.” If you didn’t know, the family lawyer wouldn’t either. You wonder how many other well-kept secrets there are in your family. That night, you look over the documents while burning the midnight oil. As usual Taehyung insists that you head to bed when the grandfather clock chimes past twelve, but after you tell him to go retire first, he stays silent beside you. Taehyung’s too stubborn sometimes, but you don’t tell him his company is pleasant to have. “Huh.” “What’s the matter?” �� “I didn’t know my father donated to St. Andale Orphanage.” You squint, reading the barely legible writing. You don’t remember that happening or it being posted in the newspaper. “It must’ve been done anonymously,” Taehyung comments and you make a noise in agreeance. But it’s strange. Your father always liked to have his name on donations so that people would know and it would be written in the newspaper. It’s not like him to go quiet and he gave quite generously too. “I’d like to go to the orphanage tomorrow.” You look up at Taehyung. “In the morning.” “I’ll arrange that for you,” he says with a smile. You close the books. “I’d like that man to join me as well. My father’s worker, Min Yoongi.” At that, Taehyung’s brow quirks. “For?” “He was close to my father, right? He might know something I don’t.” // The orphanage is a worn brick on the south side of the city in the poorer area, yet it somehow looks to be holding up well. It’s unlike the other buildings around that’s crumbling. You wonder if it’s your father’s doing that made this place half-decent. You can hear the laughter of children in the plot of grass fenced in. You watch them at the distance while strolling the perimeter with Taehyung to your left and Yoongi to your right. “It is quite cloudy today.” “It looks like winter is coming soon.” Yoongi looks at you. “If you’re cold, we could go inside.” “No, it’s quite alright. I don’t get to enjoy the cold weather often and it can be nice.” You turn with a small smile. “I might be like my father in that way.” “Yes, I remember he told me he quite enjoyed the snow.” His eyes gloss over, reminiscent. “Your father was a very respectable man.” “He was a good businessman and an even less attentive father,” you hum and feel Yoongi’s gaze on your profile, but he doesn’t get a chance to reply. “I’m sorry to ask you this, but did my father ever speak about his private life, Mr. Min?” “Yoongi is fine. But no, not frequently at least. I only remember he once told me about flowers he was going to get for his wife before he headed home and I remember he spoke about you a few times.” “Me?” “Yes.” Yoongi offers a polite smile. “He told me that you were quite talented in your personal studies.” You take a glance at him. There’s not a single trace on his expression that lets you know he’s lying or exaggerating, but you still find it hard to believe. “In his will, he gave me a pocket watch. I was hoping you’d know more about it. It’s gold and without any designs or engravings—” “Gold?” Yoongi gives you a peculiar expression. “The company doesn’t make gold pocket watches.” “Pardon?” He explains, “We found that the profits weren’t worth the costs, so what’s used is silver, bronze, ceramic or even glass. In the third collection, there were some gold watches, but you said there weren’t any designs or engravings on it?” “There’s nothing.” The corner of the man's mouth pulls. “Mr. Arden must have personally handcrafted it for you then.” Your brows furrow. You’re not sure how you feel upon hearing that, so you cast a glimpse to Taehyung who’s been quietly listening and he smiles at you. Yoongi clears his throat a moment after. “I wasn’t planning on telling you this, Miss Y/N, but considering it’s about your family, I think you have a right to know.” Your head turns over in alarm. “What is it?” “Your cousin, I believe, Hoseok. He’s been….showing up to the company often. He’s been wanting to book a meeting with me for a week now and he waits until I’m done working to try to speak to me. I suspect he wants to take over the business.” You’re not surprised. “I’m receiving that kind of pressure in regards to the wealth and estate, Yoongi, and a hundred times worse. I think you have it in you to handle my overbearing cousin.” Yoongi laughs from his chest as if he already figured you didn’t have any real solution. But based on your answer, it’s allowing him to do whatever he wants to that cousin of yours. A few minutes pass before an older woman emerges to the field. “Children! Children! It’s time for lunch! Come along now!” Another woman comes to invite you inside, so you follow after them into a room where they’re serving soup and loaves of bread. You watch children as old as fifteen to as young as three line up one after another. It’s both sad and heartwarming to see so many sparkling eyes in hunger-pane frames. “Today’s food was given to us by Miss Arden and Mr. Min, can everyone give a big thank you?” There’s a chorus of ‘thank you’s throughout the room and toothless grins from boys and girls. When a woman struggles with carrying a box inside, Taehyung comes to help and then Yoongi. They’re supplies that you donated out of your own pocket, clothing and some blankets — it’s not much but still better than nothing. “I want more!” A pitched voice of a four year old boy in drab clothes knocks you out of your train of thought and you shift towards him. His friend adamantly shakes his head. “No! ‘Member what Sister Emmy said? You only get one!” You step forward, lips parting but before a single word can escape— “Here you go.” An older girl with soft features and her hair pulled back in a frayed ribbon has spun around with an extended arm. Her loaf of bread is in hand. The boy blinks owlishly at her and she beams. “You can have it.” “Thank you!” He takes it and the two boys run away. “That was very kind of you,” you speak up and she turns around, startled that someone saw. You smile at her, lowering yourself to match her height. “You can have more bread. There should be enough for the next few days.” Her eyes light up. “Really?” You don’t like children much, but this girl seems to be intelligent and mature for her age. “What’s your name?” “Rose, ma’am.” She bows her head awkwardly, rather well-mannered. “Thank you for the food.” “I’m happy to help when I can. Can I ask how old you are?” She counts on her fingers for a moment. “I believe twelve, ma’am, but I’m not sure.” As you frown, she quickly explains, “My mother died when I was young and I’ve never met my father, so I don’t know for certain how old I am….” Her voice becomes quieter and quieter as it goes on and you realize she’s ashamed. “That’s quite alright. I don’t have parents anymore either.” You muster a smile and the corner of her own mouth tugs. It’s pleasant to talk to someone who doesn’t know you, someone who doesn’t have any ulterior motives. “What do you like to do, Rose?” “I don’t do much. But I like to cook! And churn butter. I also like collecting eggs and making milk.” You hum. “How would you like to come back with me and work at the house?” Her eyes open wide, irises practically glistening from the afternoon sunlight coming through the windows. You’re normally not so impulsive, but you have a feeling she’s wasted here in the orphanage where she’ll have to work in a factory soon or get married by fifteen. Your mother always warned you to pick and choose the people around you carefully, and this girl seems trustworthy. Or at least, you can see capability. Taehyung was even younger than she was when he entered the house for the first time. He must’ve been six or seven. His dad worked for the household and so did his dad’s dad — a whole lineage that made it inevitable that Taehyung would follow too. Rose comes home with you three hours later. You take it that this kind of affair customarily doesn’t happen so quickly judging by the head lady there being overwhelmed by the generous offer of taking the girl. But the process was most likely sped up considering your well-known status and Rose’s enthusiasm at the promise of a private room, food each day, and a high pay at the end of every month. She was more than happy and practically begging the woman she knew well to let her go. And the woman was happy too — even thanking you for giving her a home. You’re not sure if it’s much of a home. But it’s yours. “This is...enormous.” Rose gasps as her eyes lay upon the manor, lugging her small case of belongings by her side. “I-I mean, thank you, ma’am. I will work very hard!” Your lips tickle into a small smile. “I’m glad.” The three of you enter and she gawks at the place. “Taehyung will show you where you’ll stay in the maid’s quarters and what will be expected of you. I’ll give you time to settle yourself, so don’t worry about anything for now.” “Thank you, ma’am!” “It’s right this way.” He guides and she tottles after him. You sigh softly with a smile as you watch the pair. He was amused when you told him that you wanted to take her home and he followed your instructions without much protest. Hopefully Taehyung will let her know that you’re not keen on being called ma’am or madam. You’re about to retire to your room, but you’re stopped on your way by Jane. She fiddles with her fingers nervously. “Miss, um, there’s, uh…” “What is it?” “There’s a guest in the parlor. He came about an hour or two ago and he insisted on staying until you came home.” You hold in your sigh, wondering why it’s so hard to take a rest these days. “From now on, do not allow anyone inside the house when I am not here unless said otherwise.” She flinches at your tone and dips her head. “Yes, my lady.” You make your way to the room to find out who this uninvited guest is, and your brows furrowed in confusion when you see the backside of an unfamiliar man. He’s dressed in a sack coat with a matching waistcoat and black trousers. He must hear your footsteps since he turns around and instantly gets up, jaw gone slack. “You must be Y/N,” he murmurs in awe. “You’re even more beautiful in person.” The man comes to you and takes the back of your hand, placing a kiss against your knuckles. You eye him the entire time. “And you are…?” “Oh, I apologize, I hadn’t realized I didn’t introduce myself.” He takes off his top hat and presses it to his chest. “I am Mark Carter. I believe your uncle may have spoken about me previously.” You vaguely remember something about meeting his friend’s son, but you can’t quite pinpoint the details. Your expression remains stoic and unimpressed. “Is that so?” “It’s an honour to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.” You guessed this would have happened, but you didn’t know it would come so soon. Being the head of the Arden Household and unmarried at that, it’s only natural that others will come after you. It would be wise of you to consider it as well — the only way you can collect the temporary inheritance is through your husband. But as silly and naive as it might be, you want to marry for love and not convenience. And it’s the one thing you won’t allow yourself to give up on. “Like what?” “Pardon?” “What have you heard about me?” Mark clears his throat. “Well, I have heard that you are as intelligent as your father and as beautiful as your mother, no less than a red rose blossoming in the morning dew of spring. And I must say, those rumours do not do you justice, Miss Y/N. You far exceed any poetry that could possibly be waxed.” The corner of your mouth curls in amusement. Admittedly, it’s nice to hear such bold and blatant compliments once in a while, even if they are exaggerated and likely crafted by your uncle. “While I am wholly flattered, Mr. Carter, is this what you came here to tell me?” The man’s posture straightens. “I came to ask permission to court you.” You nearly choke on your own spit. You’re taken aback at the man’s shamelessness, not sure if he’s dimwitted or simply brave. “Meaning?” “I would like to send you letters every so often if you grant me permission and perhaps if you’d be inclined to take strolls with me.” You’re not sure how to answer or what to say, but you’re starting to feel your impassive expression crumble. You muse it’s impressive your uncle found someone as overbearing and insistent as he is. “Can I ask why you want to send me letters? We’ve never met before.” “Actually, we have,” he says and blinks. “At your father’s charity function two years ago.” You scour your mind, but you can’t recall. Every charity function you attended, you just remember sneaking out food for Taehyung and sitting together outside looking at the stars. Mark reads your expression as he realizes that you can’t remember and his face falls. “It hurts me that you can’t remember the encounter but no matter.” He suddenly takes your hands and you lean back to create more distance. “If you let me, Miss Y/N, I promise you that you will not be disappointed.” “Mr. Carter—” “I have not been able to forget you since that night.” You wonder why he didn’t look for you sooner then if he felt so passionately about an encounter you can’t even remember. But before you can ask, he comes closer to you, forcing you to take a step back. “If you give me a chance, I will grant your every wish.” He’s crowding you, intruding in your space, larger than you are. Your mouth parts, trying to utter out a word, but it’s not necessary. A looming shadow comes over Mark, draping him away from the light. It’s Taehyung with a menacing expression — his lips drawn together, eyes practically burning holes. He grabs the back of the man’s coat collar and yanks him away from you, finally giving you space to breathe. “Please do not lay a hand on her ladyship, good sir.” “W-Who’re you?!” Mark looks between you and Taehyung as if expecting you’ll tell him to leave him be. But you don’t move whatsoever. Your butler offers the man a stiff smile that has your own mouth curling upwards. “Uninvited guests are no longer permitted in the Arden estate. The maid that you let in was inexperienced. A mistake like that will never happen again. So unfortunately, you will have to leave now until you receive a proper invitation.” “Wait!” You stifle back a laugh when Taehyung physically picks him up, nearly throwing him over his shoulder. The man struggles and his cries echo throughout the manor as he’s taken away, “Put me down! Stop! You idiot! You’ll hear from my father about this! How dare you!” Taehyung throws him out of the estate and you’re finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. When he comes back, he dusts off his hands with a more pleased expression. “What would you like for dinner, mistress?” // The next time someone visits, it’s not uninvited. “Who are you?” Jane has stopped in the middle of her path, duster in hand and scrutinizing the doe-eyed male in the foyer. His brow lifts at the girl, but before he can come up with an answer, Taehyung appears from the corridor. “Right this way, sir.” The man in his coat nods and walks away, yet the maid is still curious. Her eyes follow the stranger’s form and she murmurs to Taehyung, “But who is he?” “Her lady’s affairs don’t affect you,” he coldly deadpans. “It would be better to attend to your duties than ask questions.” “M-My apologies, Butler Kim.” Jane dips her head and turns around, but she still steals a glance over her shoulder with a pout and a huff escaping through her nose. Taehyung comes inside the study to find you and Detective Jeon going through what he’s found. “I looked into Park Jimin like you asked me to.” “What did you find?” Detective Jeon flips open copies of documents. “He was born and raised right here in Lennox, never stepped foot outside of Trulia. His parents are immigrants from the East, still married and living together on the West side of the city in a tenement. His father worked in a landscaping company and his brother, three years older than he is, is a wagon craftsman.” You go through the papers and sigh after a moment. It doesn’t seem like he’s the one you’re looking for. Well, you suppose you’ve ruled out at least one possibility. “He’s as boring as they get,” the detective says. “But I did find something...peculiar.” “What is it?” “That man you wanted me to search for, the one who came to the funeral, I think I might have found where he is.” Detective Jeon hands you another worn folder from his briefcase and you eagerly untie the string to look at the pages inside. “An intern at your father’s company actually spoke to him briefly and I found the inn he was staying at in Lennox. Spoke to the lady there and went to the train station. I have a connection with someone who manages the books and they found a train ticket. There’s more to it, but I won’t bore you.” His name is Arthur Kahl. There are small details of him written, how he’s in his fifties, where he lives and a drawing of him sits amongst the documents. Your brows furrow. This is him — there’s no doubt about it. “He’s an artisan. A woodworker,” Detective Jeon tells you. “Lives in France, in a town called Colmar, but he grew up here in Lennox.” Your eyes flicker up to Taehyung and then the detective. “Thank you for this.” He offers a smile. “It’s all in a day's work.” Shortly after, Detective Jeon is escorted out by the butler. His eyes are perceptive but his senses are even more keen. He takes a glance at the taller man. “Your name is Kim Taehyung, right?” Taehyung’s brow quirks. “I think you already know the answer to that.” Detective Jeon boyishly smiles. “Is it alright if I ask a question? It might be intrusive.” “Then don’t ask.” “But see, I’m much too curious.” His steps slow while the two men come outside where it’s harder to eavesdrop. They stop on the front path of the manor leading towards the gates. “It might be the reason why I ended up in this line of work. Can’t give up on something once it’s in my head. I just have to know.” There’s a pause. Then, he doesn’t hesitate any longer. “Do you perhaps fancy Miss Y/N?” Detective Jeon’s doe eyes sparkle in the sunlight. It’s a subtlety that can only be noticed through careful observation. But he’s seen it — through the way you allow the butler to stay in every private conversation divulging the secret details of your family. How he always knows what you want without you needing to speak a single word. You’re in rhythm with one another and always taking glances when the other person isn’t looking. Jungkook has seen many things. But never a master and servant so close to each other. “That is an intrusive question.” Taehyung’s expression remains impassive. “My devotion goes beyond such kinds of frivolous and fickle emotions.” His mouth quirks. “Why don’t you do anything about it then?” “It’s not my place. I merely grant her wishes and fulfill my necessary duties.” “So you’re holding yourself back on purpose?” “That’s enough questions.” Butler Kim continues walking. “You’re a detective. If you’re that curious, I’m sure you can figure it out.” “You’re right.” Detective Jeon grins, led out the gates, yet he turns around one last time. “But if you’re willing to do anything for your mistress, would you kill for her?” His expression hardens while Jungkook flashes another smile. It’s not the kind of question that is waiting for an answer, so the other merely walks off, down the path and away from the estate. // You’ve only ever left Trulia twice in your life. Once on a family outing when you were five or six and another time for just a few days when you were accompanying your father on a business trip. You’ve never had the chance to see much outside of this country and it’s a wish that you never spoke to anyone before but Taehyung. There was simply never a chance for you to go. And while you expected your next journey out of Trulia would be an adventure and perhaps seeing new sights, you suppose this is a good excuse as well. “Can you please pack another dress? I don’t want to run out when I’m there.” Rose enthusiastically nods and goes to your wardrobe to pick another gown. While Taehyung is the one who would ever pack your suitcases, you don’t want to rely on him too much. He was already preparing the rest of the things for the trip and Rose seemed more than happy to help. “The blue one will be fine.” She nods and folds it into the case as you look over the gloves. “How long will you be going for, miss?” “A few days.” You look up at the twelve year old and the corner of your mouth tugs. “You’ll watch the house for me? I don’t want any roaches to crawl in while I’m away.” Her head bobs up and down. “I’ll try my best, my lady.” You smile, noticing Jane looking into the room. She realizes you’ve seen her and clears her throat. “Do you need any help, my lady?” “No, I’m fine, thank you.” It’s nerve-racking to leave the estate and Trulia. You trust that a few days won’t bring things into chaos, especially considering that you’ve kept your affairs discreet. But underlying the unsettlement is a buzz of excitement — that just for a short while, you can escape. You feel that way even a day later when you’re at the train platform. And whatever you were afraid of is washed away with Taehyung by your side. “Stand right here. I’ll only be a moment,” he tells you, holding your tickets to Colmar and you nod. Your hand grips the suitcase as you overlook the bustle of people. You’ve never seen so many gathered in one place before, families and lovers parting ways, children rushing past, the conductor quickly pacing to the front of the platform. It’s dizzying to look at and overwhelming to be in. You wonder if you look out of place in the mass of people. You chose to wear a white dress with a natural silhouette, a bustle pad underneath and a bonnet around your half pinned-up hair. It’s modest attire, but the threads are still expensive. The last thing you would want is to attract needless attention and that’s why you made Taehyung wear a normal white waistcoat and black frock coat with matching trousers than his usual stiff tailcoat. He looks rather nice in normal clothing anyhow. As you think about Taehyung, you start to search the crowd. The red and black painted train whistles, smoke coming from its chimney. It looks like it’s about to leave soon, but you’re not sure if you should go in or where you would even sit or put your luggage. It’s been so long since you’ve been on a train, you don’t know what to do. The endless questions and uncertainty drains blood from your face and you start to panic. Until Taehyung comes into sight. “What took you so long.” You frown at him but he still has the audacity to smile. “My apologies, I had to check if we were at the right platform. Let’s go.” He takes your suitcase and offers his arm which you take. Taehyung keeps you from being swallowed by the thick crowd and pushed back. His height looms over even most men and although his stature is lean, he remains steady. Once you’re at the doors, he puts down the cases and holds your hand to help you up the step and then he resumes by your side, cutting through the passenger cars. The two of you pass the more luxurious sleeping cars and as you peek into the window of the car of commoners, wondering if that’s where you’re heading, he slides open the door of a compartment. It’s a private booth with a large window and a ledge overtop for your suitcases. “Here we are, my lady.” Taehyung organizes your belongings as you sit down on the plush seat. A moment later, the train begins to move, wheels rolling against the rail and then it builds speed to chug along. You watch houses flash past the window. “What do you think?” he asks, sitting opposite of you. “Is it supposed to be so nauseating?” Your head is light and the world is dizzying from the fast motion of the train. Taehyung must see your weakened expression with the way his eyes widen in alarm. But you quickly lift your hand and try to reassure him, “It’s fine.” It isn’t. And he knows it. “We can get off the next station.” “No!” You inhale a deep breath, calming yourself. “We have to go. We have to make it, Taehyung.” You shut your eyes. There’s no way you can turn back now. “It’s probably because I haven’t been sleeping well.” Not when you’re up day and night taking care of what your parents left for you, even if it’s only temporarily. And not when you’re kept awake plagued by the secrets of the people who were supposed to be closest to you. “The herbs in my tea can only do so much.” Suddenly, you feel the seat dip beside you and your eyes flutter open to see Taehyung. He reaches over and gently guides your head to lean on his shoulder. “Then sleep. Don’t think about anything else.” The corner of your mouth curls. “You make it sound so easy.” “I’ll watch over you.” A noise is made at the back of your throat and you allow yourself to mold against Taehyung’s side, your head cradled against the slight slope of his broad shoulder. As you ease, your fingers slowly drag itself over until you graze the back of his hand. No words are needed. No explanations are necessary. Taehyung flips his hand so that his palm faces upwards and his fingers entwine with yours. Within a few minutes, your chest begins to rise and fall, soft breaths escaping your parted lips. Taehyung’s eyes stray from the windows to watch you. You’re cold and blunt, carrying yourself with an intimidating demeanour that either frightens others or causes them to despise you. But he can still see the traces of your childhood self, even if the recent weeks have forced you to harden. Taehyung knows that you’re still sentimental, that you’re affectionate, that you’re not as indifferent as you’d like to be. He knows you’re still grieving for your parents. The two of you grew up together after all. Since young, he’s been told he’s talented for this line of work, but devotion was another matter. He was told that being a butler meant more than just serving — it meant protecting. And he swore his duty to your name that day you took the blame when he stole from the kitchen and you got slapped by your mother. He can still remember your small frame standing in front of him. How your words didn’t waver. Taehyung knew it then and he knows it now — there’s nothing more important than protecting you. His mouth tugs and his eyes lift from your sleeping features, but something catches the edge of his vision. Taehyung looks up to the window of the compartment door and finds a man, blue eyes, blonde hair curled in front of his forehead. The stranger peers into the compartment and when he notices Taehyung’s gaze, he dips his bowler hat as if to shield himself. Taehyung moves. He cradles your head until you’re laying down fully on the seat and he quietly slides the door open. “Excuse me.” Taehyung moves past someone, eyes darted on the man who peeks over his shoulder and quickens his steps. He had seen the man before — earlier on the platform and then again when he left you alone. Taehyung came back right in time. You hadn’t noticed the man behind you at all. Taehyung quickens his steps, stalking after the man who looks over his shoulders once more. His strides hasten. He practically breaks out into a run. Taehyung chases after him as the train curves into a tunnel. The windows are blackened, darkness sweeping throughout the cart. He hears staggering breaths pulling roughly out of lungs and at the same time, the train rushes out the tunnel. Light breaks through the windows again and the steel door at the end of the cart begins to close. Taehyung sees through the tiny gap where panicked eyes meet his own gaze. Taehyung runs. He throws open the door and the cold wind rips through his hair with the intensity of a storm. The wheels shriek against the rail. There’s only a tiny step before one would have to make the jump to the other cart’s door. In between are violently rattling metal links that connect the two carts. “Hah!” There’s a squeak of shoes behind him. Taehyung ducks. The door slams closed. The man’s arm is extended midair, having missed Taehyung’s cheek and within a blink, Taehyung grabs his arm and twists it. The man shouts in agony, teeth gritted. “Why you!” His fist swings and it manages to catch Taehyung’s jaw. He’s knocked back, tasting a surge of coppery blood. Taehyung wheezes, but his lips curl into a smile. He launches himself forward as the man squares himself. An arm swings. Fist curled. Taehyung dodges. Taehyung takes the opportunity, no longer on the defense, and he swiftly strikes. The man stumbles back, air ripped out of his lungs, eye sure to bruise. Taehyung steps forward, but the man grabs something within his coat. “Step back!” Taehyung’s met with the muzzle of a revolver and puts his hands up, calming his breath. The man snorts with a sly smirk. “Yeah that’s right. You’re just a dog.” But then Taehyung's left hand clutches the man’s wrist and he contorts it at an angle, knee coming up to slam into the man’s stomach. Instantly, the man keens and wheezes. He cries out as the revolver crashes onto the links connecting the carts and falls beneath to the rails. Taehyung grabs the man’s collar and holds him backwards, nearly off the train. The man’s eyes become rounded in fear. There’s a storm of verdant in the background, fields and trees darting past. “Who are you?!” “Let go of me! I...I swear, I didn’t want to do this!” “What do you want with her?” Taehyung demands, shaking the man whose head nearly touches the steel rails. The man’s fist curls on Taehyung’s so he doesn’t fall. “Answer the question!” The shout is torn from Taehyung’s throat, his face crumpled into unadulterated anger, jaw clenched. “I-It was her uncle!” the man quickly spits out in fear of his life. “Seokjin! He hired me! He wanted me to kill her!” “So you were planning on putting a bullet through her head?!” “I-I just needed the money! I’m sorry! Please, please,” the man pleads. “You don’t have to do this. W-What has that girl ever done for you? You’re just her guard dog!” Taehyung has a deadpan expression, eyes dim. He begins to release his hold on the man who audibly sighs of relief. “That’s right.” But it’s too soon. “Don’t you know dogs are one of the most loyal animals?” Taehyung grabs the man again as he stands and throws him off the train into the soft meadow. “Woof.” The man’s scream echoes. Taehyung dusts off his hand. He comes back to the compartment to where you’re still sleeping and resumes his spot with your head in his lap, finding a warm blanket to drape over you. Six hours later, you wake up, rubbing your eyes. He smiles and tucks a loose strand of hair in front of your face behind your ear. But your sleepy daze shatters when you see his split lip. Almost immediately, you’re leaning over to Taehyung, grazing the wound with your thumb. He sharply inhales. “What happened?” you demand, worry written all over your face. It hurts to smile, but can’t resist it. He should never admit it — he likes it when your attention is solely on him. “I tripped.” You look at him incredulously. “Taehyung.” “I did.” He doesn’t give up the excuse no matter how much you prod and pry. The train arrives in the town of Colmar shortly after. It’s a quiet place with a certain dryness to the air in spite of the river running through the town and underneath the bridges. The homes are tightly knitted next to one another. It’s a cozy kind of atmosphere. For a moment, you can imagine your mother having spent her life in this place and you’re not certain how to feel. You decide to stay in an inn near the square, dropping off your suitcases in your given room. “We should find him, shouldn’t we?” You turn from the window to Taehyung with an unreadable expression. “We don’t have to,” he says and it’s all too tempting. You want to forget that you’re here looking for your mother’s old lover, that you’re searching for your sibling. You wish you can pretend that this is merely a trip to enjoy with Taehyung in a place far away from Lennox. But even if you were to dream such a thing, the truth would not stop plaguing your mind. You muster the strength to shake your head. “We can enjoy ourselves after. There’s no point in putting it off.” “He’s an artisan. A woodworker.” The detective’s words ring inside your head. “Lives in France, in a town called Colmar.” It should be difficult to find the man — that way you have a legitimate excuse to put this off. You wouldn’t have to confront your parents’ secrets. Or meet a brother or sister you never wanted. “But he grew up here in Lennox.” Yet this town is small and there is only one known woodworker. If such a thing as fate or destiny exists, then it never stops being cruel to you. The bell rings as the door of the shop opens. “Hello there! How can I help you?” There’s an older man behind the counter busy at his shelf, brunette hair and features tender, wrinkles creased around his eyes to mark each smile he’s collected over the years. You come towards him with Taehyung by your side. “You were at my mother’s funeral.” At your murmur, the man turns around wide-eyed. Arthur Kahl, the man your mother loved, who she wanted to marry and be happy with. The father of your sibling. “You’re Hana’s daughter….” His mouth draws open. “Wh-what are you doing here?” “I came to see you. I think you may have answers to my questions.” “I-...I don’t know if I do, but please, sit.” He hobbles to the front of his shop, turning the sign over to not receive any more customers and the both of you sit on wobbly chairs. He knows you came this far, that you searched for him. There’s no other way you could have found him. “I’m sorry I never spoke to you at the funeral. I thought since we didn’t know each other, there was no point in bringing back old memories.” “Is it true then?” You look at him carefully. “About my mother and you running away together…” “That was a very long time ago.” “Then why did you come to see my mother?” “It was a long time ago, but I still wanted to pay my respects. Your mother...was a wonderful woman and treated me kindly. I’m glad she ended up having a good life and a happy family.” The corner of your mouth twitches. He continues, “While I never personally met your father, he seems like a very respectable man and a good husband. I’m truly sorry for your loss.” The words sit uncomfortably in you. Your parents always seemed to treat each other with mutual respect and trust. It was never a passionate affair like pairs you’ve met, but rather a quiet relationship of sitting alongside one another. You never would have guessed your mother had someone else. But you don’t want to know anymore about your mother’s history. “I received my parent’s will a day after their burial.” You inhale a breath, bracing yourself. “And it promised my sibling the estate and the company. I don’t want to harm them. I want to fulfill my parents’ last wishes. So please, allow me to meet my sibling.” Your eyes meet his earnestly. The man stares back at you, his brows knitting together. “My apologies, but I’m afraid there’s a misunderstanding. I don't know who your sibling is.” The clock on his shelf ticks loudly. “Your mother and I never consummated our relationship.” // The night sets in, matches hissing into a flame and thrown into the wood in the fireplace until it awakens and paints the room in a warm orange hue. The quietness is deafening outside of the crackle and pop of the fire. You haven’t eaten. You don’t want to. You don’t think you could stomach it. “My apologies.” You’re seated at the rounded table in the chair, motionless. You should’ve never come. You should have just stayed in the estate instead of trying to dig around in the secrets of your family, into the reasons why nothing was left for you, why they didn’t love you even after death. “But I’m afraid there’s a misunderstanding.” You came here for nothing. “I don't know who your sibling is.” Your efforts were worthless. “Your mother and I never consummated the relationship.” There’s an ear-splitting crash that rings the four walls. Taehyung opens the door, eyes darting to you. You’re hyperventilating, clutching the handle of your suitcase, all your belongings fallen on the ground beside the wall. You toss the case aside with a frustrated cry. He calmly shuts the door before anyone in the inn can pry and closes the distance in two strides. “It’s okay.” He opens his arms and he engulfs your quivering frame. You grasp onto him, your hands twisting into his white shirt. “I-I don’t know what to do, Taehyung. I...I really thought I had it. I was preparing myself—” You were preparing yourself to meet your sibling. To confront it all. For once, you were ready. The frustration cripples you blind and angers you. How much longer will you be left in the dark? How much longer do you have to look like the fool, a child fumbling in her parent’s history searching for the truth? Why did they do this to you? Why? “You can cry,” Taehyung murmurs. And tears finally slip from your eyes to stain his shoulder. If it wasn’t for him, if he wasn’t here, you might have lost your mind by now.

#bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung au #bts au #taehyung writing #taehyung series #taehyung scenario #bts scenario #taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #taehyung x oc #ooOoooOOoH LET'S GO

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magicalsalamander · 3 years

Text

Lacuna

Pairing: Jin ⇆ Reader

Genre: Law Students | Werewolf | Childhood best friends to idiot enemies to lovers | F | A | S

Summary: Lacuna(n): (1) In law, a non liquet (commonly known as “lacuna in the law”) is any situation where there is no applicable law. (2) An unfilled space or interval; a gap.

You are well equipped at handling whatever life throws at you. You had worked hard to erase the past and mold a new you, and the future were to become a lawyer. Well, everything was planned expect for your ex best friend who came back into your life like a crashing gavel. Just when you thought you could deal with his presence, he was now your partner on a case that was bigger than you had ever imaged.

Words: 21K

Warning: Mature; explicit themes, sexual content, and violence. Lots of law inaccuracies. Alcohol and club situations. Heavy angst with lots of arguing. Previous trauma of abandonment, harsh words and feeling unworthy. Knotting, cunnilingus, fingering, mentions of impregnation, soft dom Jin, marking/claiming, and possessive behavior.

A/N: It’s been so long since I’ve put out something! I want to thank everyone for being so patient and always supporting me! Thank you @heyitsmee2 for reading over this early on. I apricate you!

*Story mildly edited due to time constraint, will edit further

You were no stranger to the game; surviving and trying to be someone in the charade of corporatism. It was all too important to be unemotional. You’d soon find yourself in Prometheus place than on the highest rock on Olympus if you let yourself slip and you were sure of your path.

Calculation leads to quantification—and it takes only seven second to make an impression.

Your throat narrows with altitude, but the breadth of your career expands.

The raspy voice of the jazz singer was a rich wine as she caressed the vintage microphone intimately. The soft notes of the piano and band follow in tandem with the slow, romantic song she sung. The dark golden hue casted over the ballroom from the multitude of chandeliers only perpetuated the elegance of the atmosphere. Parties like this were suffocating despite being in a room sized for a hanger. You wouldn’t doubt either than some of the patrons here own their own planes.

You down the rest of your wine nearly rolling your eyes at the romantic lyrics. When you were a little girl events like this were a dream, places like this gave promise of finding a prince charming. At least that’s what all the movies feed you and lead you to believe would happen until reality set in. This event wasn’t romantic in the slightest. It was to celebrate the 70th anniversary of the law firm. The entire point of the function tonight was to schmooze and be seen. As an intern, this was prime time for you. However, you suppose you were living the dream, just not a fairytale. You had worked hard to get this internship, nabbing one of the four spots that over thousands applied to. You had done what felt like to be the impossible—coming form a school that wasn’t ivy made it all the more surreal. Important business people, old and new money mixed in with ‘top of the food chain’ lawyers were all present and hiring opportunities post-graduation. That is if you don’t end up getting a job post with the firm, but a smart woman always keeps her options open.

The obligatory greeting and sucking up to had already passed and it was the lull of time where everyone was wondering who would be the first to leave. Your senses go off as you catch a two of four making his way through the crowd towards you. Standing up as if you hadn’t caught glimpse of Logan from your peripheral. You smile at those who you had shared the table with, names already forgotten, number three’s included, silently bidding them an underserved excuse me. You grab at the bottom of your dress and move through the crowd. You miss the scrunch in brow from Logan as he picks up speed after you. He was the typical American type of handsome with brown hair, strong brows, square face, shadowed beard, lean and tall. Logan was nice, made his name memorable by persistence, but the guy couldn’t take a hint. How he’s made it this far has been a mystery to you.

As you break the crowd going into the hallway, you hear him calling your name. Acting as if you couldn’t hear him, you ask a server where the restroom was and quickly headed in that direction. He began jogging to catch up with you. Your pace began to pick up too. You counted down the seconds, four, three, two—the bathroom was still to far to accommodate for your sudden pick up in counting.

“Y/n! Wait, oh, sorry, excuse me.” Timely a cart full of new hors d'oeuvre blocks his path.

Seeing his distraction, you abruptly turned and head down another hall from the main meant for staff. You reached for the first door and to your muttered curse when it was locked. You jogged to the second door which opened and closed it behind you as if fire was at your feet. Not bothering to turn on the light, you backed up further into the closet until you hit something. You had expected to hit a wall, but instead what you bumped into what oddly felt human, a large one at that. When they oofed, you scampered away. Fear thickening in you as you rapidly apologized under your breath. Instinct dictated you get out, as you opened the door to leave the heavy sound of footsteps outside had you closing it right back. The person with you murmured a beginning of a question but you quickly reached up, cupping the mouth of whomever was inside with you. Shushing them they quieted up instantly. The slight stubble under your hand indicated it was a man. At this point you didn’t care if they were someone important. You winced as you heard Logan calling your name again. The man murmured a muffled question that you couldn’t understand and you shushed them again until the footsteps outside quieted.

Sighing in relief you removed your hand from his mouth, using the same hand to search for a light switch. With an apology on the tip of your tongue turning to face the stranger, you froze, staring back equally as motionless as him in shock.

Kim Seokjin.

Number four.

Dressed to the nines in a black suit that clung to him tightly. His broad shoulders were pronounced, and with his height tall he took a lot of space. His thick, dark hair was pushed away from his face. His eyes flashed red before it disappeared back into its espresso color. He looked gorgeous. You’d never utter that out loud, but you couldn’t ignore it either. It irritated you even more. He irritated you.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” You drawled out the oh incredulously.

A smirk pulled at his thick lips. “Hello to you too.”

“I never knew you to be so forward, at least take me to dinner first.”

Looking around you realized you were in a janitor’s closet. The scent of bleach was thick, taking up as much space as Seokjin’s personality in the confined space.

“What are you doing here?” You asked while wiping the hand that was over his mouth on your dress not so subtly.

He shrugged, suffocating a laugh at your gesture. “Needed a break.”

That was hard to believe. Jin was a natural at talking to people. He made it seem easy. He always had this sense of composure and poise about him. Staring at eachother his eyes broke from your gaze as he looked you up and down. Suddenly feeling self-conscious you adjusted your dress. The black satin dress you were wearing suddenly felt tighter than when you put it on. Under his gaze you’ve always felt this way, vulnerable, but you’ve learned how to conceal it better over time.

“What?” You hissed at him when he still stared.

“This isn’t the first time you caught me in a closet.” Quietly he followed up with, “Reminds me of the first time we met.”

You don’t know what bothers you more, Seokjin’s casual reference to the past or the fact that you suddenly are placed back there. You remember being terrified, wrapping your blue, pilling blanket over your head only letting your head poke through. You had been reading under your blanket when you heard thumping coming from your closet. With your flashlight pointing at your closet you swallowed harshly as the sound came again. Your parents had told you that monsters were fake, but the sounds sounded real.

Your light was shaking on the white double doors. “H-Hello?” you bravely called out. The thumping stopped. You gulped inching closer. You were taught to be brave. Your dad said that monsters couldn’t hurt you, especially if you don’t show fear. Like the book you were reading, “Where the Wild Things Are”, you like Max, could confront the monsters too. You could become and make them friends with them. You were sure of it.

“H-hey,” swallowing hard, ”I’m opening the door, don’t bite me okay. I won’t hurt you.”

When no response resounded you breathed in deeply through your nose. Reaching out and yanking the door open you came face to face, inches away, from a boy hiding in your closet. A majority of your clothes were pulled from their hangers and piled on the floor which he was laying on. Similarly in equal fright from you bursting open the door, a shirt he had over his head fell off revealing furry grey dog ears. At the sound of your gasp, he gasped, and a tail that swept to the floor wrapped around his middle.

Buffering in the moment you stared at the boy who seemed to be around the same age as you. Recognition filters through you, “Max?” Your eyes lit up in wonder.

The boy squinted at you, almost upset. “My name’s not Max, it’s Seokjin!”

“Why do you have ears and a tail like him then?”

His brows furrowed, “Because I’m a—.”

You heard a knock on your door from your mother hushing Seokjin instantly. “Sweetie, are you still awake?”

The boy lurched forward cupping a hand over your mouth seeing you were going to respond. “You can’t tell anyone I’m here.”

You whispered, “Why?”

“Y/N?”

His eyes gleamed as he silently pleaded with you, switching between the shadow from under your bedroom door and your eyes, bidding for you to understand.

Nodding in understanding, somehow you understood. Your mom from the other side of the door sighed, “I know you’re pretending to sleep, Pumpkin. Put the book away. I know its Saturday but remember lights out by 9.”

“Okay, Mom.” Finally speaking up.

“G’night.”

She walked away.

Seokjin studied you carefully, eyeing you skeptically. “You’re not scared?”

“No, should I be?”

He paused truly thinking. “Yes. You should be.”

“Well, I’m not. I’m brave.”

He’s getting nervous and began muttering to himself. “You shouldn’t have seen me. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep. It just smelled so nice.” The last part was whispered out low enough where you couldn’t hear it.

“How did you get in?”

He pulled you into the closet down next to him, closing the door behind. The flashlight was between you both pointing towards the ceiling tightly grasped between your hands. His hands over you. His gaze serious and intent. “Promise you won’t tell anyone, swear on it! Swear on your life!”

You felt like you were being presented the ultimate challenge. This boy was trusting you with his all, maybe this was your adventure. Your destiny. You could be honorable. You nodded, “I swear, I swear.”

“What are you though? Why do you have ears and a tail? Are they real?”

“They’re real.” He said haughtily before pridefully confessing. “I’m a werewolf.”

Your eyes were sparkling, the blanket surrounding you long forgotten and dropped. “Oh, wow! Can I touch your ears?”

He nodded. Your reaction to his secret was surprising to him. He had been told by his parents and everyone in the pack that he should never real his truth. Humans had been enemies for centuries, hunting his kind since the beginning of time. Although, the kind had lived amongst humans for centuries, finding ways to blend in and look alike. The difference was the ability to shift into their natural form.

“Why are you not, like, you know—a wolf?”

“Papa said I can shift fully when I become a man.”

You carefully reached up and felt. He shivered at the touch. “Puppy.”

He growled at you, “Don’t call me puppy.”

“But you’re cute.”

He blushed, scrambling up and pushing your closet door open before heading over to your window. “I have to go.” He began climbing out of your window landing on the ground. Your home was one floor.

You stuck your head out of the window. “Wait!”

He turned around,

“Will I see you again?”

He looked around, nodding before he disappeared between the trees.

It was nearly magnetic the way you both clicked. It was nearly painful being apart from eachother after that night. He would come to your window and sneak into your room almost every night. The following school year you finally went to the same school, Jin having convinced his parents he wanted to change schools. That’s when you both became inseparable. Years later he still snuck into your room, even though he could come through the front door, and still hid in your closet just to scare you. Although, you learned to growl back at him.

It was your normal, but at some point things began to change.

More specifically you were no longer kids. Puberty hit and you were no longer innocent to the maturity that began to bloom in you both. You knew Jin was always touchy. He would hug you and sometimes his hand would linger on you longer than necessary. He would lean in sometimes to smell you, nuzzling his nose against your temple. Initially it had bothered you, the sensation ticklish, but he had explained it quickly it was a werewolf thing. That didn’t change the way your heart would flip each time though.

Jin grew taller than you towering over you, and signs of man began replacing the baby fat. Time was good to him. He found a pack and you no longer spent every waking moment together. It wasn’t that you weren’t welcome, the six boys in his pack were nice, but you had your own group of friends that you began hanging out with. You suppose that was the beginning of the unraveling of your relationship. Naïve and feeling lost you latched onto the first group that accepted you.

Even if they weren’t good for you. You were becoming aware of popularity and boys as it was the only topic they choose to discuss. You began to feel self-conscious because your friends all had boyfriends before, but you still hadn’t. When you introduced the girls to Jin, your presence was made solely into providing information about the boys. The pack were isolationist, but you suppose that’s what made them more attractive besides their looks to hormonal teenage girls. Only now do you realize they accepted you was because you knew Jin and his friends. Specifically, one of the girls, Jenna—if you could remember correctly, would always asking you about Jin.

The breaking point was when Jenny, who knew of your obvious unrequited crush, finally asked you. “You wouldn’t mind if I ask him out right?”

“Jin?” You repeated his name as if you were unsure you heard her right. Although you heard his name coming out of her mouth more times than you can count.

“Yeah, Jin. I mean, you don’t like him, right?” Like a snake she drew out the last words, expression full of pity to resemble comfort. It didn’t help when the other girls at the table all had a similar expression, encouraging her and cornering you.

“I-I—.” You were cut off as another girl spoke up.

“Be real Jenny, they’ve been friend since forever. If he liked Y/n, he would’ve said so already. He doesn’t see her that way.”

The other girl sitting next to her laughed, “Totally doesn’t.”

Blinking back the tears, her words weren’t wrong. Embarrassment flushes through you. Embarrassed that you had even believed that Jin’s affection towards you could ever mean more. The fact that he had made your heart skip a beat. Swallowing your heartache, with a voice more confident than you felt, “Yeah. We’re only friends.”

Squeals and laughter echo out throughout the table in excitement. “Oh my god! Then when you two start dating, you should introduce us to the rest of the friends. I mean Y/n hasn’t done it, but I know you will.”

You were quickly forgotten. The bell rang and the all of them got up as they giggled and walked away to their classes. Sitting alone at the table, you stare at your tray, food partially nibbled on. A single tear falls down onto the table before you suck up the other that threatened to fall. How could you be so stupid. How could you have misread things all along? You get up from the table in a hurry, nearly tripping as your foot caught.

As you step out of the bench of the picnic table you make eye contact with Jin who had been standing at a lunch table a few tables away. The rest of the pack moving around him, but he was still staring at you.

Your embarrassment flushes deeper, had he had heard it all? Your heart breaks even further as you force a smile at him and he returned the gesture. The simple response solidifies everything—you’re just friends.

You miss the way his eyes follow you out of the lunchroom.

The heartache only gets worse as Jin begins making excuses on why he can’t hang out. Claiming he has pack things to deal with. You also begin making excuses no longer hanging out with the girls, even though they don’t seek you out. You instead dedicating your time in the library. You begin reading the books tucked away in the furthest corner of the library, vintage leatherbound books on laws, just to distract yourself. It becomes your new solace.

A few months pass, the sudden silence between you became increasingly awkward. You hadn’t realized how Jin was entangled with every single part of your life. You grew annoyed because your parents would always ask where Jin was. The visible change was when you began noticing the extra portion at the dinner table for him was no longer there. The look they began to give you, seeing the distress in you began to wear you thin.

Deciding enough was enough you decide to confront him, but still cowardly enough to do it between passing. Walking through the halls you headed towards his lockers, knowing he’d be there. His locker just a bit in from an intersection of the halls. When you finally catch sight of him he stood there with two other boys form his pack, Jimin and Hoseok. You swallowed hiding behind the wall where you could hear them, waiting for the two to leave so you could get to speak to him alone.

“Come on hyung. Come on another run tonight.” You could hear Jimin asking

Jin closed his locker after switching out his books then leaning up against it. “I can’t tonight.”

“Why? Gotta go see your girlfriend?” Jimin teases.

Jin hesitated.

You couldn’t see his expression from your place. Your heart sunk, lower lip trapped between your teeth. Had Jenny finally asked him out? Your heart was beating out of your chest.

“No, fuck off Jimin, you already know why.”

Your brows furrow. Has something been going on with Jin? How come he hasn’t told you. He used to tell you everything. You miss the conversation slightly as you contemplate what you’ve been missing with Jin. You had so much to ask him. The question on the tip of your tongue too was –had he finally fully shifted? He had always told you that he had wanted you to be the first he showed his wolf.

Zoning back in you hear Hoseok question. “Come to think of it, haven’t seen Y/n in a while, she doing okay?”

“Normally you’re like a dog in heat around her.”

“No I’m not! I don’t see her like that.”

“You sure?”

“I don’t have time for feelings or emotions.”

You cover your mouth, swallowing your feeling. You suffocate the tears. Everything the girls said were confirmed.

Jin had been so engulfed in his protecting his ego, he hadn’t been able to sense you just around the corner. He then smells it. He smells you. His head twirled towards the wall where he knew you were hiding just behind. He knows your there. He clenched his fist, he wants to go after you but he can’t, it would only prove the teasing.

Clenching your books closer to your chest you run away. Your mind working a thousand miles an hour. Lost in your turmoil you miss that you’re walking straight into someone. Stumbling slightly you look up seeing the person you didn’t want to run into. You don’t pause to apologize or recognize her yelling at you. You needed to get away. The whole day you manage to evade him and everyone—you praise that it was Friday.

Coming home your parents were sitting in the kitchen, the only light on in the house was hanging over the dinning table. Your parents look up at you sadly. “Honey, we have some bad news.”

Your backpack slouched off your shoulders and onto the floor as you took a seat.

Your mother swallowed, placing her hand on top of yours. “We’re moving. I’m sorry, Pumpkin. I know you have so many friends here. Your father’s job is forcing him to transfer to the city, the plant here is shutting down.”

You remain stoic, processing the information. However, you smile, squezzing her hand back in assurance. “How soon can we go?”

Their expression registered shocked. Clearing their throats as they somberly told you, “We’re leaving next week.”

Nodding you get up from the table, leaving your parents apologizing to you. You dragged yourself to your room. Standing alone in the darkness, words found you again. “Not soon enough.”

You moved away, and soon what it was like to be around him everyday was forgotten. You became strangers. An unpleasant memory.

You had done college, and decided early on that you wanted to go into law. Those leather bound, vintage law books was the only thing you actively brought with you from the past. Law was consistent, but ever changing. It allowed you to find a voice, a place where arguments meant something—your voice meant something. It paved the way for a new you and when you entered law school you flourished under the pressure. Everything felt like progress, at least until the day you showed up at the internship. You no longer had the luxury of pretending. Standing in the attorney’s office was Jin among the two other interns. Seeing him first saw him again felt like all wind had been sucked out of you. It was like a ghost had aspirated and so did the sting of rejection. It was all accompanied by an odd sense of longing that passed through you. You saw the way his eyes widened with recognition when he saw you.

But you both made no motion towards the other, frozen in space and time.

Ironically, time should have done its job and all healing had been done, but scars were just thicker scabs.

The nostalgia quickly washed away as it twisted into the familiar shape of disdain towards him. He was brilliant and It was irritating, so you always were sharp with him, cold even, not willing to lose to him. A rivalry quickly evolved between you. He seemed to feel the same way as he would always retaliate back. You couldn’t last a few minutes without bickering. Words just as venomous and an amused smirk always followed.

“What are you doing? Did I mess up a secret meeting?” He throws your question back at you, grounding you back into the present.

Looking at Seokjin now, he had grown up well. He had grown in height, completely towering over you. His shoulders were broad tapering off like a V to a tiny wait. He looked great in an all black suit. Thick, dark hair pushed away from his face showed off his thick brows and symmetric features. You had eyes, but your mouth would never admit it out loud how good he looked.

Rolling your eyes, you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Avoiding Logan.”

“Logan?” You missed the way his red eyes darken deeply as it looks black. He had heard the footsteps, but now he could put a name to it. “Are you fucking him?” He questions easily, never one for a filter.

Your eyes widen, the crudeness expected despite your aggressive bickering. “Are you seriously asking me that Seokjin?” The though was so absurd and ridiculous. Has he lost his mind. What more you had never even touched this type of topic with him before, who was he to ask about your sex life.

He tucked his hands into the pocket of his slacks. “I don’t know, it’s just an obvious conclusion to draw. Considering he follows after you like a lost puppy.” He feigned a look of pity. “It’s pathetic.”

The tone he takes with talking about Logan surprises you. He never outwardly showed that the man irritated him. You had seen them chatting around the office even. Considering your desk were next to one another it was inevitable. Anger filled you again, was he calling it pathetic because he was pursuing you? Bastard.

Lazily he leaned up against the shelf, as if he was waiting for a reaction he knew he’d get from you.

“I can’t deal with you right now.” you groan, an onset headache coming on from how childish it all was. Growing frustrated and hotter by the second stuck in the closet with him. You turned to leave.

“Leaving so soon? Don’t you want to wait for him to come back around?”

“Seokjin, will you cut it out. What is with you right now?”

He shrugged, still measuring you with a hardened gaze and lips tight in anger. “Nothing.”

Why was he so angry? Earlier you had noticed that all the bigwigs were laughing easily at his jokes. Something you couldn’t deny about Seokjin was his charisma. It was easy be persuaded by him, you used to be stupid enough to be swayed by it too. Shouldn’t he be on cloudy nine, probably having already solidified a job post grad.

“Whatever. Enjoy your night Seokjin. Don’t suck off potential employers too much.”

That had him laughing. “Ever one to need footsteps to be followed. Lead the way then.”

You glare at him in what you picture to be intimidating at him. Pulling open the door. “Fuck you Seokjin.”

You stomped away, faintly hearing the laughing coming from the closet. Luckily, no one was in the hallway.

You had been aimlessly staring at an one of the many orange sticky notes you had tacked onto the glass pane between the desk. Pink was current deadlines, orange upcoming, and blue was for your frustrations. The low cubicles truly didn’t provide privacy, but it wasn’t permanent anyways so you didn’t really put effort into personalizing it. You were trying to read the orange sticky note with the date November 29th ominously written on it. You couldn’t for the life of you remember what was due on that date. The pink note next to it reading the date December 4th was a blaring reminder of the last day of your internship.

Awakening from your thoughts you heard Logan still been droning on to you about whatever he was talking about. You had stopped listening after he called your name, you hummed like you were paying attention, then zoned out. He was leaning on the glass, his desk situated right next to yours. Jin’s was situated across from yours, but he wasn’t at his desk at the moment. At least that saved you a headache.

Your phone rings and you answer it instantly, cutting off whatever he was saying. You give him a pretend fake smile, one to which he luckily accepts sitting back at his desk. Its quick as the secretary is hanging up on you before you can tell her that you’ll be there in a moment. Gathering your things, taking an extra pen just in case, you head towards the elevators.

Knocking on the door twice you let yourself in quietly behind you. Your boss was a passive man, preferring those to act than be told what to do. Turning around taking in the office before pausing noticing the back of someone’s head already sitting in one of the two chairs in front of the desk. The chair meant to occupy your boss was empty.

Remembering where you are you and ignoring him as you stride until you plop yourself into the empty seat. You refuse to look at him, instead sorting out your tablet to take notes on. You just had to wait until your boss came in the room—you could be patient. You had a vague idea of what he may want to talk to you about, but with Jin here you were at a lost. What was he doing here anyways? Had the secretary gotten his appointments mixed up? It’s been two weeks since the event. You had spoken to him since, but it had been the usual bickering. Something had changed though, it was something atmospheric between the two of you, but you couldn’t place an instance on the beginning of the feeling. Oddly, you found yourself searching for him whenever you came to the office, which had brought its own set of turmoil that you’ve yet to unravel. Now that you were sitting next to him, somehow you felt the sense of pettiness overcome you again.

Finally looking at him you notice how great he looked today. He wore common slacks and a button up, but he made the ensemble look great.

Jin asked, “What are you here for?”

Crossing your legs over you flip open your notebook. “None of your business Kim.” You hate that you had done such a good job hiding the layers of hatred and anger, but you could even recognize the coldness in your tone.

He rolled his eyes, “Typical.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying.”

“Clue me in Seokjin.”

He shrugged, clearly wanting you to put the pieces together. Rubbing at your scalp muttering under your breath. “It’s too early for this,” checking your watch, “it’s only eight-thirty in the morning, I haven’t had my coffee yet, and I have to deal with guy.”

“That explains your snappiness. You do seem constipated.”

You audibly gasp, a retort on the tip of your tongue when the door burst open to reveal your boss. A grin already on Jin’s face knowing he got the last word in before he neutralizes it. Paying you both no mind he continued grumbling into his phone that’s tucked between his neck and ear as his other hand holds a cup of coffee and a stack of paperwork in the other. Min Yoongi, your boss, was a man of few words elusive at times, but his tongue was sharper than any knife. His mind was brilliant too, a legend amongst law students. you had heard stories of his infamous mock trials when he was in school and how he had won trails out like a daredevil. He was intimidating to say the least.

Jin’s gaze was still on you before he turned to your boss who plopped into his chair. He seems frazzled, tie a bit disheveled and dress shirt not as freshly pressed as it should be. The fact that you looked kept together in front of him was kind of embarrassing. It was common sense that interns should look that way. Did his appearance have something to do with the 29th? Shit, you really needed to figure out what event was happening that day.

He flung a thick packet in a folder over to you and Jin. You flipped open the folder and read the first page. Peaking over from yours to Seokjin’s you see he was given the exact same paper.

“I’m assigning this case to the both of you.”

“Mr. Min, I don’t mean to impose on your judgement, but I can handle this on my own.” You squinted as you read it over. It seems like a generic divorce case based on the short preliminary interview.

“Can you?” Jin quirked a brow at you. You already have insults on the tip of your tounge but he continued. “Look, I’m just saying because remember that one time—.”

You bark out his name before he can continue, already knowing what story he was going to reference.

“Mr. Kim, Ms. Y/L/N.” You both instantly shut up. “If you both are treating this opportunity simply as some game between the both of you then I’m sorry to inform you that you may not be needed anymore. This is court of law. So tell me—do I need to provide this opportunity to someone else?”

At the same time you both respond. “No, Sir.”

The way he was glaring at the both of you had your toes curling in your shoes.

“Look, Ms. Y/L/N, I’ll admit you are smart, just as much as I think Mr. Kim is capable of handling his own cases. I need the both of you on it because this isn’t an ordinary case. It won’t only go to trial in court, but Kinds court too.”

The only thing you hadn’t expected to come to find out was he was also a kind. Kind being something they used in the human world to refer to their supernatural counterpart for political correctness. One afternoon not long into your internship, but months ago, you had called Jin wolf boy in the breakroom, not knowing your boss was walking in. Anyone else would think it was a passing comment, but the narrowed look that he gave you had you crystalizing. It had become second nature to you identifying when someone was otherly. Yoongi only commented as he walked out to make sure that you both keep it that only you knew.

Jin stiffened next to you, his gaze snapping up to look at Yoongi. An exchange of glances went between them that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Seeing as you already know about our kind Ms. Y/L/N, I would like that you both work on this together. Prepare it for the courts and depending on how it goes there the Kind’s will deal with it following. Frankly, we need you on this case to keep things right on the human end. And Seokjin we need you because you have the knowledge that comes with it. I expect the both of you can approach this and prepare a case that is thorough. We cannot risk the underlying truth getting out to the public. Dress it up how you have to, leave the kind out of it until human laws can punish as needed.” He centers you both with a stare that’s unwavering, even you feel the expressive. “Do I make myself clear.”

“Yes.” Simultaneously you both respond.

Yoongi finally sits back taking a sip from his coffee that was still just a little too hot. “Everything you need is in the folder. Now get out.”

Beginning to gather you stuff, relaxing your jaw just a bit, “Thank you Sir.” You stride out of the room without looking back.

You leave not bothering to hold it for him. He was right behind you, closing the door so it wouldn’t slam shut. He watched as you strut down the hall. He huffed realizing you weren’t going to wait to talk about the case. Calling your name does no good as you still keep towards the elevators.

When the door closes, you take a moment. Truth be told, the gravity of it is not lost on you. This was going to force you and him to be close again. Backing down would prove you and the grin that would be on Seokjin’s face knowing you gave up would be enough to keep you up at night for the rest of your life. You swear you could handle it. It is just Seokjin. Your career depends on this and doing well.

But why was your heart beating so fast?

Sitting in an empty conference room, you were going over the material again. It seemed like a regular case of infidelity and the wife was filing for divorce. After Min’s pressing of the importance of this case it felt like he was mocking you. This was a case that felt “practical”. In school you had gone over these types of cases a thousand times—introduction on legal fairness and getting the most for your client. Just because it involved the kind doesn’t mean the law will treat it any different.

At least that’s what it all seemed to be.

Standing up from your seat when you heard the door handle clicking open you put on a an air of professionalism. A short woman, who nearly curled in on herself shuffled into the room. Her blue cardigan nearly engulfed her being, but her maxi dress underneath disguised most of her petite figure anyways. A male followed behind her with a hand on her back. That had you breaking your professionalism for a split second as you lifted your brow. The way he held her was anything but platonic. You wondered shortly if that was the man in the ex-husband in question.

Extending your hand out to her in greeting. “Hello, Ms. West, I’m Y/N. Pleasure to meet you.”

In the softest voice she greeted you back. You turn to greet the male he introduced himself as Damien Caldwell. With your hand still out towards him, he refused to shake your hand. Mentioning something along the lines of scent tainting. Pretending you understood you signaled them to take a seat.

You all take a seat with Jin next to you and them across.

Carefully observing her you monitor that she was fidgeting a lot, clearly nervous.

Jin glanced at you and his expression was conveying, “Stop it, you’re making her nervous.”

You forced a smile in his direction, reading into his silent message. “Fine.”

Jin adjust himself, pen in hand gesturing towards them. “Mrs. Gloria West , can you please restate your case?” Although you both had the intake form in front of you, you needed her to state clearly what she was here for.

She begins fidgeting, biting her lip tears welding up in her eyes. Damien gently began rubbing her back. “You can do this. This is your story to tell.”

She nods, sniffling, finally looking up and you finally get a glimpse of her face. Her delicate features look worn out, dark circles under her eyes.

Your features soften, and you give her a genuinely soft smile. Handing her a tissue she thanked you softly. Dabbing the corners of her eyes she began, “My,” she licked her lips as if uttering the words brought bitterness to her, “husband has been cheating on me. I found out he has another family.” She reached into her purse pulling out a card that says Happy Father’s Day. “I found it in his underwear drawer when I was putting his clothes away last week.”

Jin followed up. “You’ve previously stated that your husband has claimed you, is this correct?”

“Yes.” She pushed aside the collar of her cardigan exposing the flaring bite marks where fangs met skin.

Pen pausing on paper you forced your jaw to stay closed. You hadn’t really prepared yourself for what claiming really meant. The primal signature was jarring. The two puncture wounds looked poorly scared, the tissue surrounding it somehow still rejecting the mark.

She covered it up again. “I was young and naïve when we first met, just out of high school and didn’t have much experience. He was five years my senior. I didn’t understand what it all meant at the time. I thought the butterflies I got seeing him meant he was my mate. I was hopelessly in love.” Tears brimmed in her eyes again, but she sniffled preventing them from falling. “He told me I was his mate. I believed him. I let him mark me.” She spoke the words as if they burned her. “We got married three years ago, right after he marked me.”

You were disgusted, stomach unsettled, forced marriage seemed so archaic. Your fist curled under the table. You didn’t understand the depth of what happened in the kind context, but it still irked you. You didn’t let it show on your face though.

Damien was getting restless, clearly irate.

Jin visibly tensed. You see his jaw clench. You fill in for him. “Daniel West, your husband, how did you know he wasn’t your mate?” The word sounded unfamiliar in your mouth. You had heard it spun around before, but never truly knew the meaning. Although you could conclude that it seemed to imply partner.

She looked to Damien and her face seemed to lighten up, dark circles diminishing, as she looked at him. He had the same look at her. Clearly you could tell they were in love. “I found Damien. I knew it was the real thing because it hurt being apart. I couldn’t get him out of my head. Just a touch and it felt electric. I can’t explain it, but I just…knew. I just knew he was it.”

“Is there any other signs of another partner or family?”

“He smells like her.” She swallowed harshly. “He smells like other women too, but her the most.”

“Is there any other factors that are telling? Like photo evidence?”

“No.” You tilted your head considering it over. You couldn’t use smell in court to prove infidelity. You breathed in harshly, slouching forward. How were you supposed to find evidence?

Jin hasn’t spoken the entire time, lost in thought and focusing on the incoming information. “Are there any children?”

She nodded.

“How many? Please identify them.” She goes on to list two children, one three years old and a newborn.

Jin stared at the Damien for a moment. “I know this is a sensitive question, however, I must ask this. Did you mark him?”

It seems Jin had already predicted Damien’s response as the sound of paper crumpling in Damien’s fist was loud. His fist shook form the strength of his anger. Gloria reached over grabbing onto his leg, and his grip loosened up slightly.

She apologized to him. His fist completely unclenched as both of his hands cupped her face. “No, no, no, honey. Don’t apologize. None of this is your fault. You know that right.”

She closed her eyes, calming and basking in the affection. “I know.”

You blushed yourself, feeling as if you had intruded in an intimate moment. You can’t help but follow your instincts telling you to look at Jin. You feel like you see Seokjin for who he is, not how you’ve constructed him. At the same time you find yourself suddenly reminded—he was different. Stern and cold, eyes empty of all the things that used to make him goofy. It was as if you had lost the dictionary. Unable to translate a language that was once native to you. His quirky awkward fillers and jokes have matured into standards. He holds punctuation in his tone, powerful. Calculating in a way you didn't know he could be. Your eyes follow the curve of his plump lips, the curve of his nose and then the entire profile. It feels intimate.

You pause and wonder if Seokjin has a mate. Did he look at them like that too?

You pause diffusing those thoughts, you shouldn’t be thinking of him that way. Focusing back on the case at hand you know mating is something that cant be proven scientifically. It’s a feeling.

She blushed, taking both of her mates hands into hers and placing them on her lap. With more confidence she turned back to you both. “No. I didn’t know then that it had to be both. Daniel told me that marking me would be enough for the both of us. I didn’t realize it until later. When I brought it up he told me I was wrong, that I didn’t know any better. That people were just trying to put ideas into my head and he knew best. I believed him, until I felt the real feeling.”

“You will have a trail before the elders after this, are you aware of that?” Jin says.

“Yes.”

With a thoughtful pause, Jin smiled reaching out to shake their hands. “That concludes questions for today. Thank you both for your time.”

Reaching out to Gloria, you shake her hand, “You’re very brave for this. We’ll do whatever we can to help.”

She smiled, patting your hand. “Thank you.”

You help escort them to the door and they assure you they know the way out. Shutting the door with a click you find Seokjin hunching over his notes. All sense of comfort he offered earlier and professionalism drained form him.

Eyeing him curiously, you asked, “What’s wrong?”

“This…this…this is worst case scenario.” He says.

“Can’t she just get rid of the mark? Things like this are reversable right? She found her mate,” you say the last word with uncertainty as its unfamiliar on your tongue. Logical solutions are the only way you can navigate.

“No, Y/n. it doesn’t work like that.” Voice accusatory.

You shrink, feeling as he had called you stupid indirectly. His fingers couldn’t stop fidgeting over the papers, unable to look at you. “The mark is permanent and can’t be undone. She’s bound to him, but he wasn’t.” He raises his voice towards the end.

“Why are you getting angry?”

When he looked up at you his eyes are red. “You don’t get it.”

You falter. His words hit hard and ring like a ghost putting you back into your old room. Those words engraved like a scar on your heart. Pulling back the scar you are put back in time.

Pacing more folded clothes in the cardboard boxes you glance out your window. It was a full moon.

You couldn’t sleep so you began packing, you were due to move out the following day.

Standing up, you went to the window, staring at the moon. Your eye follows the bush and thick trees that line the property. The night seemed to be so quiet and clear. You felt suffocated in your room, your thoughts making you claustrophobic. You pushed open the window, carefully to make the least noise as possible. Going back to your boxes you fished out a jacket and put on shoes. You slipped through and hit the grass with a thud. Closing your window behind you, you turn back towards the beginning of the forest.

Suddenly a wave of sadness fills you as you remember how Jin used to always come through the same bushes to see you. Clenching your fist and tucking your jacket tighter over you, you force the thoughts of Jin out of your head.

You push pass the bushes, the light of the moon enough to light your way. You follow a faint overgrown carved out path. In all truth you had only ventured out a few times into the forest each time with him. Jin had always warned you that it wasn’t safe, but he wasn’t here to tell you otherwise. You could make your own choices. Remembering that there was a small ravine nearby you began heading towards it knowing it was somewhere nearby. The sounds of crickets was the only thing you heard besides the crunching of your shoes on mulch.

The air grew noticeably heavier with a mist and you could hear the soft sound of water running. Heading down a slope you end up at the shore of a riverbed. The water was running gently over the darkened stones underneath, just a bit further down the river picked up, frothing as it hit protruding stones. You dip your hand into the spring water, the cold causing you to shiver.

For a moment you can imagine that it’s just you in the world.

Tomorrow this would be all but a dream.

From across the bed, along the other shoreline, twigs crunch. Ripping your hand form the water you freeze in place. Scanning the shoreline, you couldn’t see anything. Your mind pictured a thousand things it could be. Even in the dark you could make out red eyes looking at you. The being shifted to an opening on the shoreline before taking on the large silhouette of wolf. Its fur was black, dark as the sky.

You stayed put, afraid to rile it up by running despite all instincts saying to do so. It stepped closer, entering the water and trudged closer to you. You weren’t ready to die. It held your gaze the entire time. As it grew closer the wolf was larger than what you’d expect to be average, it was more comparable to a grizzly bear.

It kept coming closer and your heart even louder in your ears. You lost your balance falling on your ass with a shriek. You weren’t quick enough to recover as it was hovering over you. You could feel its hot breath fanning over you with its heavy breaths. It growled and your muscles tensed in fear. It just hovered over you, you wondered if it was waiting for you to make a move.

Willing your eyes to open, all at once you felt like you had recognized the beast. “J-Jin?”

Sensing your fear, it then whined. Then he is shifting, limbs elongating and spine curving as he growled through the process. You can’t bear to look at him as you hear the sound of bone cracking and popping. The sound having goosebumps pill your flesh.

"What are you doing out here?" His voice was deep and cold, lacking its usual warmth. When you turn to look at him you no longer see a massive wolf but Jin. His eyes were still red and you stare, trapped within the color. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen it. The tattered clothing that had stuck to his previous form manifested in torn pants, but he was shirtless.

Wrinkling your nose. Just when you thought you could get away from him, he manifest. “I can be here if I want. Who are you to say I can’t?”

His wolf hadn’t settled, taking your challenge personal rather than rational. “Its too dangerous.”

“We haven’t spoken in so long and the first thing you do is yell at me.”

His expression softened, but he still appeared stern. “Go home.”

“Really Jin?”

“Go home!”

“Do you really not care about me? What you said to Jimin, is it really true?”

When he remained quiet, you found your answer. You bit your lip, forcing yourself to suffocate the tears.

“You don’t understand.” He heaved.

“Obviously, so why! Why won’t you talk to me!” Your nerves finally snap. Tears were prickling at your eyes regardless of how much you fought to keep them down.

“Can’t you give me some space! You just need to give me space sometimes.”

“No! This isn’t you, you’d tell me everything. There are no secrets between us. I want answers. Is it that easy to you to throw away everything we have?”

He growled and stepped up to you, inches away looking down at you. Your neck was kinked back staring back at him with equal challenge. His nostrils flare as he takes in your sense. His chest rumbled.

“I don’t want you to know! I don’t want you know about that part of me. So stay out of it! Leave it alone and me alone. I don’t need you.”

Feeling so small, it hadn’t occurred to you that he didn’t see you as important enough. You hated how much you had relied on him. You feel like a child whining to a parent. Maybe the girls were right. Jin would never look at you like that. You were an outsider to his real world anyways. “Fine. You know what, you’re right I don’t understand and never will. I see what I mean to you now.” Tears were rolling down your cheeks but you swiped them away as soon as they broke.

“Y/n.” The anger melted away from his being instantly, realizing what he said. He wants to take it all back, but he can’t find the right words. He stepped towards you and you took two steps back. You wanted to get away from him.

“You’ll never have to see me again.” You laughed, but it wasn’t in humor, instead full of bitterness.

“What?”

“I’m leaving.”

“What do you mean leaving?”

“What do you care Jin? Aren’t you getting what you want? You don’t need me. You’ll never have to worry about me getting in your business or caring about you again. I’m moving tomorrow.”

“Goodbye.” You turned away from him. His red eyes imprinting in your memory like a branding. You swore before you turned away you saw tears, but you refused to believe it.

He had made his bed, now he had to lay in it.

When you remained quiet, Jin began packing his stuff quietly realizing his outburst. You can only assume he remembered the same thing.

Sighing heavily he tries to dispel the anger, his eyes flashing back to normal. “We’ll discuss things later.”

You hate that it makes your heart sink. You don’t like that he’s pushing you away. He had done it before, but he wasn’t going to do it again. “Of course I don’t, so explain it to me now.”

He ignores you and makes towards the door. Before he makes it you grab onto his forearm. “Will you listen. Don’t walk away from me.”

His body stiffens instantly, although his chest was still heaving. When he turns to look at you, you let go of him like you had been burned. You crossing your arms over your chest protectively. Knowing he no longer plans to leave you follow up, “Look, I don’t know as much as I thought. Don’t punish me for it. I just want to solve this case as you do.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I just…imagining someone claiming—.“

Your chest deflated too with his reaction it gave you an unspoken conclusion. He had a mate. You should’ve known better than to let your thoughts trail on earlier. Instead you focused on his apology. “We need to work together right? This is our last case here and we can get through this professionally.”

“Can we?”

You smirked, “I can behave if you can.” You straightened up, extending out your hand to him, “Let’s call a truce or something.”

He accepted it, but still held onto it which was something you didn’t expect. “Something?”

“I mean do you have a better status to call whatever this is?”

“Truce implies I hate you. I don’t hate you.”

The way Seokjin looked at you felt like he was truly looking at you. You almost felt paralyzed as you couldn’t look away. His words felt—genuine. But you refused to lean into that, you didn’t want to read into his words too much. You rolled your eyes, unconvinced pulling your hand out of his. “Okay, alright, I said behave”

“Really. I don’t.” Weakly he smiled.

“So truce or not?”

“Okay.” He answered.

“Okay.” You repeat back.

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

“Give me your phone.”

You pulled out your phone and handed it to him. He saved his phone number, calling himself, before handing it back. “Don’t abuse it now.”

You scoffed, nearly choking on your own saliva. Unable to stop yourself from laughing in disbelief. “You wish.”

He genuinely laughed, the high pitch sound unique and squeaky. Turning to leave, he paused in the doorway looking over his shoulder. “Another thing.”

You hummed, looking at him expectantly. You saw the cheeky smirk before it bloomed. “Keep the messaging to during the daylight hours, alright.”

“Seokjin!”

He closed the door quickly behind him, evading your spitfire.

He isn’t sinking back into your life. You aren’t even friends. You both were going to go your separate ways after the internship, and you were never likely to run into him again.

You had nothing to lose.

Truce.

Shutting the door behind you a bit harder than necessary, you toe off your heels and hook your keys up.

Your roommate, Mia, was already sprawled out on the couch. Slumping right next to her and crowding her out. The sounds you emit sounded like a deflating air mattress as you groan.

“Yikes, that bad of a day?” Shuffling to adjust herself again on the couch.

Closing your eyes you nodded. She laughed, clearly not buying the way you played victim. “What did he do today?”

Mia had been a friend you made during college, and quickly became your closets friends. When you both graduated you found yourself needing someone to roommate with while job searching and grad school stuff. You had found out about her being a Kind early on in your sharing of home. She was more surprised to find out that you had already known about it. That’s when you told her about your childhood, leaving out names, all until recently where she was too smart and connected the dots. Wolves and their intuition.

“Okay, first off, not everything isn’t about him. And secondly, how dare you be right about it.”

She laughed, her laptop nearly falling off her lap. You loath her, her and her perceptiveness. She was smart, but sometimes too smart for your own good. “It just—he’s so irritating! I just said one wrong thing today and he exploded. Then we had a truce and get this, he said he didn’t hate me.” Confessing all on your own, you felt accosted just by her silence.

Her eyebrow quirked at that, followed by a cheshire grin. “You two getting along now then? Is that’s what’s upsetting you?”

“No. It’s just—he played the good guy and it made me feel stupid. I have been doing my best and then he comes along and makes me feel—ughh! It’s just this case is stressful. I feel way out of my depths.”” You have your hands in the air scratching at the air.

“Leave then.” She shrugged, stating the obvious solution. She already had let this type of complaining go in one ear and out the other. Since the beginning of your internship you had come home and vented about your day, mostly revolving around him as the topic of choice. How he irritated you that day, or simply breathed the wrong way. Even to yourself, the amount of time he has been able to rile you up lately has become annoying.

“I can’t just leave, you know how hard I worked for this. You know how important this place is. Besides, I need it to graduate.”

“Well then, why were you arguing anyways? What does this have to do with your case?”

“Everything to do with it.”

She nodded. Realizing it must not be within your realm she opens up, “Need insight?”

You shifted on the couch tucking your legs underneath you. “What’s marking or ‘laying claim’?”

She turned to you, “Are you serious?” For the first time in your friendship you saw her blush. She was always forthcoming with sexuality and whatnot, so this was out of character for her.

“Yes.”

“Did he ask you about it?”

You squinted at her, “No, why?”

She cleared her throat, waving her hand, “No, nothing.”

“Well its not PG-13.” She licked her lips.

“Well thank goodness I’m not a virgin maiden in waiting. What is it? You’re stalling.” Her reaction made you infinitely more curious.

“Okay, well honey, when two mates, who love eachother very much—.”

“Oh god, stop it, please be serious for once!”

She laughed. “Fine. It’s a sacred ritual that connects two mates together. Or in layman terms, two soulmates together via a bite mark. It acts like rings? But its more than that. Its hard to explain.”

“Soulmates?” You suffocated the scoff. Out of all things she said to be appalled at. “That doesn’t exist.”

She smiled at you. “They do! You humans just don’t believe it because you’ve corrupted the system.”

“So it can’t it just be anyone? You know, fall in love and just know that person is it, the one?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s this instinctual feeling. This soul connection. You’ll know it when you feel it kind of thing.”

“Ugh, that’s what she said too.” You rubbed at your temples. “I can’t use a feeling as evidence.”

You sighed, “I can’t tell you about the case, but hypothetically if this happened. Hypotheticals only.”

She suffocated a laugh, rolling her wrist in a circle, hand gesturing for you to continue.

“So hypothetically, the client was hypothetically marked by someone other than her mate. What does that mean—hypothetically?”

Her face sobered, “Are you serious?”

You nodded.

Fiddling with her fingernails, she looked genuinely troubled. “How can that even happen?” She mumbled to herself before she turned to you. “I don’t know of any worse punishment. The pain that comes with that either is unimaginable. It’s violation of not only culture, but its inhumane. The human equivalency of forced marriage, but even then that equivalency doesn’t compare how bad it is. Murder, maybe?”

“What would happen to the one who bit the other…hypothetically?”

“Normally, death. There would be a match between the actual mate and the one who bit until death, but times have changed. The punishment is still severe.”

You take pause realizing how serious it all was. You weren’t sold to the idea of love, or soulmates, but being forced in a marriage the idea made you sick. You finally could see why Seokjin was so upset earlier. Sighing heavily you let your head fall back on the couch onto the cushion stared at the ceiling. How could you find evidence against this guy then?

“We gotta make him pay.” Looking towards her. “Do you think a guy who has a separate family would leave a paper trail?”

“You just need to find his social accounts. Cheaters usually have multiple accounts under different pseudonyms. Their downfall though is that most guys are stupid enough to not undo the geo tag or take the photos all in the same place.”

“I’ve already looked into it. He only has one account. It’s pretty generic, nothing telling.”

“But have you?” She gave you this side eye. “He must have a fake account then. Probably all his closets friends follow it, so we just have to find a similar name that seems to be a generic account.” The whole time she had been speaking to you she had been doing the research.

“Done.”

Your jaw dropped. She did that so fast. Could you blame her though, as an IT specialist she knew the ins and outs of things like this.

“You evil genius!” She pulled it back to herself, you scooching to sit next to her so you can watch what she does. Scrolling through, she squinted. “Seems he recently was on this page.” She clicked on link bringing up a page to a club named Fluxx. Scrolling through you both catch a comment under an event from West. The DJ who was playing there apparently was his favorite, him and his boys were going to be there to see it that weekend.

She turned her laptop towards you. “You’d think he’s in college still.”

“What if…what if I go. I’m sure he isn’t going to just party with his friends. I’m sure he’s going to be there looking for his next victim.”

She shut her laptop, scowling at you. “No. Absolutely not.”

You pout, “Why not? You realize this give me the evidence I need to proof the case.”

“You don’t understand. It’s a club for others. Humans can’t get in here unless you’re someone’s play thing or—.”

“Or what?”

“With someone who is.”

You stare at her expectantly.

“No.”

“Come on!” You whine, tugging at her sleeve.

“No, this is dangerous!” She set her laptop on the coffee table, moving away from you so you couldn’t provoke her. Getting up form the couch she headed towards the kitchen. You sigh following after her. She reached into a cabinet for a mug.

“Don’t treat me like a child.”

She slammed down her mug, and you jumped. You had never seen her upset. She turned to you with a look of disbelief. “Child? This isn’t a game, y/n. You apparently don’t what kind of shit you’re getting into. My kind have to live in the shadows, and do you know what happens in the shadow.” Her comment was rhetoric.

You kept your mouth shut.

“Humans are no longer the superior race in there. Not all kinds are what you think. You’d get eaten alive the moment you let your guard down.”

“I didn’t go through all this trouble to find a good lead to get scared away by the what ifs. Besides, you’ll be there with me, right?”

“They’re not what ifs, y/n.”

“Yes, they are. You went there before and are standing here today.”

“Don’t get smart with me.”

“I’m not. I understand okay! I know you don’t think I do, but I do. I’ve heard it before and I don’t need to hear it from you!”

She turned to look at you with a pointed glare. You stood your ground.

She huffed preparing herself a drink. You stared at her back. For a moment you held doubt. What if she was right. What if you were getting yourself in something bigger than you anticipated. Picturing back to earlier in the day to Gloria and the amount of fear she had regarding her husband had your stomach sinking. The look that Seokjin had, the anger in him, and now hearing of the significance. The sense of justice found itself rooting in you even thicker.

“Alright.”

Pushing off the counter you were leaning on, Mia dropped the spoon she was using to swirl her drink in the sink noisily.

“You’re planning on going anyways aren’t you.”

Painting her with a look of exhaustion and resolve. “I am.”

“How?” she tossed her hands up in the air.

“I don’t know, I always figure things out somehow.”

She picked up her mug pushing past you then picking up her laptop going into her room. She slammed the door.

You slumped back onto the couch. Biting on your thumb. How were you supposed to get in now?

She came storming out of her room thirty minutes later. Rubbing her temples with a look of distress.

“Can’t you just hire a PI or something?”

“No, you yourself said being a kind is a secret. I can’t hire someone to watch him.”

She bit her lip, “Do you have to be this stubborn?”

You chuckled. “Yes. A woman’s life is going to be decided if or not I can prove her husband is a dick. Even if that means putting myself out there to prove it. I really want justice for her.”

“God, I really hate you sometimes.”

You smirked sitting up. “Does that mean you’ll get me in.”

“I swear to God if you get hurt—.”

“We won’t, I won’t.” You rushed towards her wrapping her in a hug. “Thank you, this means a lot. You know I wouldn’t ask something form you if I didn’t mean it right.”

She sighed. “Yes.”

“You owe me big time!”

“Whatever you want darling, the world is ours!”

Finding yourself back at the office after finishing all your classes in the morning. You were exhausted. The week, on top of the internship, had been exam heavy. You found it difficult to raise your head from your desk. Luckily for you, the office was nearly empty including of the other three. All others were at their campus or otherwise. You purposefully came on this day to get your work done.

Your phone pinged, notifying you got a text. With your hand you blindly searched for your phone dragging it so you could look at it form your lap with your head still on the table.

You sat up when you noticed who had texted you. You blink at the ID a few times.

Partner in Crime [2:07 p.m.]: We should meet up to work on the case.

You knew enough to deduce it was Seokjin.

You [2:09p.m.]: Who’s this?

Partner in Crime [2:10p.m.]: Are you serious?

You [2:10p.m.]: I’m at the office now.

Pain in the ass [2: 12pm]: Can you meet me at my school’s library in thirty? The office is nearby. I’ll buy you a coffee.

Location sent.

You contemplate. You just wanted to go home. Deal with the case more after this weekend after going to the club. You want to present all your finding and seal the deal all in one session. However, the thought of coffee was convincing enough to have you texting back.

You [2:20pm]: Okay. Be there soon.

Pain in the ass [2:21pm]: I’ll meet you outside.

You found yourself standing outside of the library half an hour later, staring up at the towering building. This was their library? This looked more like a historical site. Well it explained why the tuition here was so expensive. He went to the ivy school, one of the best, if not the best, law programs in the nation. You eyed things with envy. You had applied for this school too, it was a dream of course. But you suppose going to state university granted you only so much prestige.

“The clouds telling you something?” You jump when Jin comes up next to you.

You glare at him. He’s laughed. “Sorry, you looked so lost in your thoughts. Didn’t actually think I’d scare you. Here.” He handed you the other coffee in his hand.

You accepted it gladly, fingers feeling frozen, but pause. “You didn’t poison this right?”

“No, that’d be too easy.”

You nearly snort into your cup. “Spoken like a true soon to be lawyer.”

You miss the endearing stare he gives you as you begin walking up the stairs. He quickly catches up with you putting a hand on the small of your back when a large group of students come your way. He guides you up the stairs keeping you close with the abundant of students pouring in and out. You suppressed the squeak you wanted to let out. His hand was large and warm, the touch radiating through your coat. Your mind tells you you should move away, but you don’t. He leads you to the lower floor where to your surprise was just as magnificent as the base floor. The gothic architecture feels almost as if you’re entering a cathedral. The tables were dark oak wood and heavy looking ordered in long rows of five. Green banker lamps were in the center of each table basking the old scratched up wood in golden light.

Leading you to a table secondarily inward, he took a seat next to you.

Finding it odd, you debate on moving, but you neglect to comment on it. He settled into the seat looking none the more comfortable. Settling in you pulled out your laptop plugging it into an outlet underneath the table. You needed a second to re-center yourself. You didn’t like that you instead of revulsion like you expected to, you felt his presence give you a sense of security. It’s all dangerous, the feeling all too close to the ease you used to have with him.

“Have you come across any new leads?” Jin asked.

You quirked you head, having been so lost in your thoughts. “Huh?”

“New leads?”

“Oh, yeah.” You bring it up a on your laptop and show him. “I found his secret Bookface account. It’s even under a different name, Ethan Miller. He must have many identities and more accounts than this one.”

He brought his arm up resting it on the back of your chair, bringing the both of you closer. You flush thinking nothing of it as his thick thigh brushes yours as he leaned in.

“How’d you find it?” He clicks through the photo album. Pictures of ‘Daniel’ and children appear that look very much like him. Children who were not his with Gloria.

“I know people.”

He looked mildly impressed. “I see, if you tell you’ll have to kill me kind of scenario.”

Shrugging with a bit of pride you crossed your arms over your chest and leaned on the desk. Lamely you shot a single finger gun at him. Realizing how lame it was you quickly tucked your finger back into your fist and crossing your arms. When did you do lame things like that ever? He laughed, and you tried to ignore the embarrassment.

“Anything else?” He was so close to you when he looked up. You couldn’t help but let your eyes flicker down to his lip for a second as he mouthed the words. You quickly brought them back up to his eyes, the dark chocolate color another vortex. Heat rises to your cheeks and he could probably hear your heart picking up in pace. It didn’t help that from how close he was you could smell the cologne he wore, which made you want to lean in and press your face to smell it from his skin. Heat flushes even hotter through you, how brazen of your thoughts were getting.

Remembering he asked you something you answer more breathier than you would like. “No.”

When he straightens up, you were glad he didn’t comment on it. You contemplated telling Jin where you were going, but you keep your mouth shut. You could handle it on your own, all you needed to do was bring the evidence.

You cross your legs attempting to move away from him.

He nodded, taking screenshots before moving on. He finds the photos of his other family just like you did, and the other woman too. He carefully zoomed in squinting at the image of the woman.

“She’s wearing a scarf and in a majority of them.”

“Didn’t take you to be in the fashion police.” That has him snorting a laugh before he goes back to the page. He looked around, finding no one in any of the other rows, you both completely had the basement floor to yourselves. “He must’ve marked her, or newly marked her when they took these photos. She’s trying to cover up the bruising.”

“Is that so abnormal?”

“Well, not necessarily. We just heal rapidly, cuts heal within hours. Marks do take a bit to heal, but it usually heals within a day if cared for properly. But just the way she hiding it and the bruising, It means she’s human. Kinds know marks aren’t meant to be covered up. They’re something sacred and to be worn proudly.”

“So…?”

With his head propped onto his hand he turned to you, eyes boring into you. That feeling arises in your stomach again. The way he was looking at you felt deeper than just a simple glance. You think back to when he said he didn’t hate you. The words still feel impossible.

“Human mates are rare.” Without letting you question it he says, “Bruising could mean it never healed because her body is rejecting him.”

“Wouldn’t he be feeling some repercussions too? It’s a two-way thing right?”

“Yes, but it seems that he’s not being affected. Gloria would have mentioned illness or signs of hyper aggression.” He scrolls over the images. “You’d expect this kind of behavior from—.” Again he pauses, lost in though.

“From what?”

“A rogue.”

You squint. “English, please.”

He smiles at you. “An exiled wolf. When we don’t have a pack for too long our sense of direction becomes distorted. Signs are aggression, loss of humanity and morality, eventually they lose their its ability to revert.”

“And you think he’s one?”

He leaned back in his seat. “It’s plausible.”

“Let’s go through his account and gather more evidence. I can began transcribing the interview. We can do case search too if we have time.”

He nodded his head. You send him the link to West’s account and begin sectioning out the work. Surprisingly, you had worked quietly next together, no bickering. It was—pleasant.

“How’s school going?” His husky voice breaks you out of your concentration. He was still looking at the laptop and writing down notes.

You hummed. “Getting by, you?”

“Same.” He hums back and the lull begins again. You bite at your lip, curiosity getting the better of you. “Why did you decide to go to law school? Weren’t you going to become a chef?”

He had always told you when he was younger, he wanted to become a chef. “Duty called.”

“Let me guess, pack stuff?”

He nods, not missing the way you said it. “I’m expected to become a council member when I graduate. I’m going to take my father’s position and practice in the kind’s court.”

You didn’t know much about his family, things were always surface when you were younger. Playtime and other things taking precedence. You had no idea his father was a lawyer. You had only spoken to his parents a handful of times. His mother was the one who spoke to you mostly, his father was a stoic man.

“But, your dream?”

“I still cook, I just don’t do it professionally.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No, I’m happy.”

You thoughtful consider his words. It pains you a little to know he gave up his dream.

“How are they, your pack?”

A fatherlike smile comes on his face. “They’re all well, Namjoon is to be the next pack leader. The others are all doing their own thing, but they’re doing great.”

You smile, the fond memories of the boys resurfacing. “I miss them.”

“Why’d you leave then?”

There it is. The conversation the both of you had been avoiding this whole time. You had asked him something so personal and now he was returning it. The implication of the question wasn’t only why you left town, but him. You knew that, both physically and emotionally. You don’t know if you could offer him that though.

Abruptly your smile leaves you. “My dad got a job here in the city. I had no choice.” Your tone was frigid despite how much you wanted it to sound neutral.

“That’s the only reason?” He didn’t buy it. Based on his tone he sounded hurt. Knowing there was another reason. You hated that he could still read you.

You shrug, maintaining your stance. “Yes.”

“Bullshit.” His voice comes out clipped and sharp.

“What other reason would I have Seokjin?” Willing your voice to stay leveled, you begin using a voice you only use in professional settings.

“You left me.” He spoke the pain that he had held within. When you look over to him his eyes are red.

Leaning back in your chair, you crossed your arms over your chest. You wanted to remain unaffected, but you wanted to reach out to him. You felt the urge to touch him, but your anger kept you steady. “I didn’t leave you, you weren’t there. How can you say I left when you weren’t there.”

“You know that’s not true.” He accused, gaze darkening.

“It’s true.”

“I tried, but you wouldn’t answer.”

“That’s bullshit Jin and you know it. For months you ignored me.” Using his words back at him you choked on your words towards the end. You want to say, ‘you didn’t need me’, but the word hung heavy on your tongue, too hurtful even to yourself. You know that you didn’t try to reach out because after what those supposed friends said, it was made true when he just suddenly left. The prioritizing of his pack over you. All your feelings for him were crushed. Heartbreak was easier to deal with when you didn’t have to see their face.

He growls out, “I had things in the pack to handle.”

“Good excuse.” You knew he avoided you for other reasons, it was beginning to urk you that he wasn’t voicing it.

“I couldn’t help it. I was being initiated and had my first complete shift. It was a lot.”

“It’s different and you know it. I—forget it.” You wanted to say so much more, confess how you used to love him. Those feelings feel trivial now, even if they still exist in the present. The realization of the words, even though spoken in your mind had you reliving the pain all over again.

He falters and you almost feel guilty. A darkness spreads over the atmosphere. You spend a moment staring at one another. There is a tension between you two. Yet you can’t deny it’s like magnets. You feel drawn to him despite it all. Always have been. The knowledge of that has you shattering inside.

You stand up. “I’m going to look for a case study.” The wooden chair screeches against the floor. You needed to get away, to cool down. The sound of your shoes echo with the emptiness of the library.

Slinking between the bookcases you keep walking until you are deep within, feeling far enough where you can breathe again. Leaning against a bookshelf you sigh heavily. How come he had this much effect over you still?

Suddenly you feel heat overcome you as Jin suddenly towers over you. Softly his chest rumbles in hushed growls as he caging you in.

“Seokjin, leave me alone.”

When he doesn’t move you attempt to escape, placing your hands on his firm chest and pushing him. Unsurprisingly he doesn’t budge, but he shifts to keep you within his outstretched arms on the bookshelf. His gaze is intense, the red seeming to glow. “No, why do you run away when the conversation gets difficult?”

Humiliation clouds you. “Don’t patronize me.”

“Seokjin I’ve never run, it was you. I stopped chasing when I realized you had other priorities then and I wasn’t one of them. You said so yourself. Simple as that.”

You see him register the memory. His expression turns bitter. “That’s not true.” Gaze narrowed, his hands turn white as he clutches the shelf behind you. “I didn’t ignore you on purpose. Things were complicated and there was a lot I didn’t understand yet.”

“Good excuse.”

“It isn’t!”

“So what?”

“I realized something that—.”

“You didn’t need me.” The words come out of your mouth quietly finishing the sentence for him.

“No!” he growled.

“Keep telling yourself that.” You bit back the feeling of tears. “What do you gain Seokjin from this, huh? Reliving the past? It’s not then anymore. The us, whatever it was, is not now. And nothing will change that.”

The bookshelf creaked under his grip. “Don’t. Don’t say things like that.”

“What? That I’m no longer that young naïve girl? The one that used to follow you around? The one that used to think you were—.” The word mine dies on your tongue. “I don’t need you anymore and haven’t for a while, face it.”

“Please don’t cry.” He looked at you sadly.

You hadn’t realized you were crying. Attempting to wipe your tears, Jin hand took yours holding it while he caressed your face with the other wiping it away for you.

“Please don’t. I can’t handle it.”

He lowers his head and kissed you. The first press of his lips was gentle but deep. A small whimper escapes you; he rumbles in response pressing you closer to the bookcase. His hand dictates yours onto his shoulders while it wrapped around your waist pulling you close to him. It was making you dizzy with how good it felt.

He pulled away warm breathes of quiet between you two. You slowly open your eyes meeting his fiery ones. The warmness and adoration of it catching you off guard. The boyish loopy smile that followed had your heart melting. He lowered his head, resting his forehead against yours. His lips press against yours again unyielding. You had imagined this before, but this felt better. He kisses your jaw down to your neck. You shiver. The implication of it is not lost on you. He trailed back up finding your lips again in a harsh mesh. With a sigh he pried your mouth open. He moans your name.

Bringing you back to reality. “I—We can’t.”

This wasn’t right on many levels, but most importantly, didn’t he have a mate? Why was he kissing you? You had messed up, messed up big time. How had you caved so easily when he kissed you. You hate that you liked it so much too. You realize from the moment you both met again that the feeling you worked so hard to suppress came back strong. This was a mistake from the beginning. He still makes your heartbeat like it used to.

Seokjin’s arms were still extended towards you. “Why not?”

“I can’t—we can’t.”

You do what you do best. You run. Your heart breaks again for the second time.

Standing outside in line in the dead of fall would have to be the last place you wished to find yourself. The bombing bass thumped through the walls and neon lights outlined the vicinity. Other patrons in line to the club seemed at ease with the near freezing temperature. You suppose its a caveat of being human that your body didn’t run naturally warm. You had been to clubs throughout your college days, but they were far in between. Except this wasn’t any regular club, Fluxx was meant for the underworld. Those of the other kind.

Crossing your arms over your chest you attempt to conserve as much heat as possible. The fire within only kindled by the fact that you are only doing this for the case. The dress you had borrowed form Mia after she had deemed your choice to tame barely covered anything. It was too tight and you were sure that everything underneath was outlined.

Your phone vibrates in your clutch. You step away from Mia, although she was distracted chatting up some guy in the line. You answer it without looking at the ID.

“Hello?” Plugging your other ear with your finger.

“There’s something you need to know.” Jin’s voice comes through. You startle looking at the phone to check if it really was him. After what happened yesterday you hadn’t expected to never speak to him so soon.

Putting it back to your ear. “Can it wait?” You hiss.

“No.”

“What is it?”

“I talked to Yoongi about him being a rogue. It all checks out. I don’t know how much longer before he turns.”

You bite your lip, heart pausing in your chest. You stare at the club for a moment contemplating what you are about to do. You knew what you were doing was dangerous, entering territory still uncharted to you. However, this was the best way to get more proof.

“Y/n? Y/n did you hear me?”

His voice comes back into your ear, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Are you out right now?”

Form the corner of your eye you notice a bouncer going down the line, eyeing those standing in line. Mia grabs your elbow pulling you back to her. You hadn’t told her what happened yesterday. Unable to articulate it either. She mouthed to you, “Everything alright?”

“Where are you?” Jin asked.

You nodded to her.

“I gotta go.”

“Y/n, wait—.” You hung up on him tucking your phone back in your purse.

The bouncer scanned you over before looking to Mia. The smile that bloomed on his face was a bit salacious. “Go on in ladies.” Mia grabbed your arm pulling you to bypass the line. Going through the entrance, the dark narrow hallway, you focus on your footing as it was hard to see. The deep house thumping grew louder until it opened to a large room. Strobing lights were made opaque by the hazy air, thick with the smell of alcohol and sweat. Bodies were moving to the music as Mia pulled you towards the bar. You were nearly knocked twice by people too drunk to notice or have body awareness.

Mia had already given you the rundown of what to expect. She had spent at least two hours lecturing you on what goes on. These clubs were not just host to one kind, but all. The fact that you were human would send off a few sense and mixing alcohol in the situation it makes things a bit more dangerous. It had already been decided early on that you both would split up.

Mia leaned in at the bar catching the bartender’s attention and ordered for the both of you. Without turning back.

“Spot him yet?”

Scanning the crowd, you look over the bodies, none of them striking familiarity. It isn’t until you scan the private section where the tables are do you find him.

Mia receives the drinks, handing you the soda. Stealthily she looked over spotting the area of where you were looking.

“I’m not getting good vibes Y/n.”

You nearly snorted into your drink. “It’s a club of course you don’t. This place is grimy and full of fuck boy energy.”

Her lips lift in a smile, but it doesn’t stay. “I’m serious.” Biting her lower lip in uncertainty, leaning in she spoke into your ear, “Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah.” An important detail you left out was telling her that he was a rogue. You knew that just like Jin she would talk you out of it. To her he was just a douchebag and you were just an ordinary girl hitting on him.

“I’ll come find you. Don’t do anything stupid okay.”

You nodded. She disappeared into the crowd weaving into the swaying bodies dancing seamlessly, leaving you at the bar.

You spotted him leaning into a woman, holding her by the hips and grinding to the beat. She wasn’t any woman you had found on his social media before. You snuck photos pretending to take selfies then going through a few other apps. Seeing him move away from her at the change of the song you took your cue. Moving through the dance floor you approximated yourself. Your heart was beating in your fingertips, fist tightly clutching at your drink. Steps beside him you went into action. Stumbling slightly in front of him, you spilled your drink on his black slacks. He growled as soon as the cold liquid spilled all over him.

Trying to swipe off the drink, “What the fuck!”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You played up to the image of innocence and a naïve human.

He paused in his attempt at brushing off the liquid. “A human. What are you doing here sweetheart?” When his eyes meet yours, they don’t just look they linger. The girl he had been speaking to completely forgotten. His eyes flicker down from your face to your body, lingering in erogenous zones before meeting your eyes again. Pretending you didn’t notice, you suppress the urge to smile knowing he’s playing into it.

Now that you were closer you couldn’t deny that the guy was attractive. It made sense how he was able to play so many. His tousled hair was dark and silky. His eyes were piercing and intimidating.

Seokjin’s words ringing in your ear again. Don’t know how much longer we have until he turns. Why did you have to think of him now at all times.

Touching his leg over the stain you squeezed it suggestively still pretending innocence of attempting to clean it. “I’m so sorry. I’m such a clutz.”

“Hold on princess. Take me to dinner first.” He grabbed your hand, but kept it over his legs.

You couldn’t explain it, you felt his touch turning nausea within you.

“Can I pay you to get it cleaned?”

“This thing? I got twenty more, its fine.”

You leaned in, putting your hand on his chest. “Is there another way I can repay you?”

That had him quirking his brows before a twisted grin bloomed on his face. “Got any ideas babygirl?”

You leaned in, playing with a button on his button up. “I can think of a few wolf boy.”

He growled clearly taking on the challenge. “My names Daniel and don’t forget it baby girl.”

He leaned in to capture your lips but you turned to the side. You whispered into his ears, chuckling, “Don’t tease me baby. you’re going to bring the beast out in me.”

Pretending his words were stimulating, you giggled, tossing your head back. Biting your lip you gave him a doe eyed look, “Let’s take this somewhere else.” Blinking up at him, “Please.”

He took your hand leading you through the crowd. You didn’t have time to search for Mia in the crowd, but you had hoped she saw you. He moved towards the back towards an exit door. He pushed open the door you were pulled out into the back alley. As soon as the door closes the noise of the club softened, and Daniel’s labored breathing is the loudest sound. Fog had settled in over the city, and you could see a group of guys lingering just at the entrance, the ember of their cigarette light.

Stepping closer to you he caged you against the damp brick wall. His overwhelming smell of alcohol was suffocating as he leaned in with a smirk on his lips. He leaned in close enough that his breath fanned over the side of your face. Moaning and humming, “You smell like a bitch, hard to believe your just human baby girl.”

“I’ve always had a bit of wild in me.” You smirked.

Throwing his head back as he laughed, then lowering his head following with a groan. He bit the bait. He presses himself closer to you, enjoying the soft curves of yore body against his. Leaning in to speak with hot breath into your ear, “I can tame you. You’d like it if I’d put you in your place right.”

Goosebumps pimpled over your whole being, except it wasn’t because of him. Something changed in the air. Your heart began beating faster in your chest, like a radar beeping when a target was nearing. Breaking eye contact with Daniel you turned towards the alley where your instincts were indicating something was coming. In turn you exposed your neck to him. Daniel rumbled contently in appreciation at your action. He leaned in sniffing your skin, trailing his nose along the column. The action having your stomach twist in a sudden nausea.

The radar in your chest pinged its loudest as through the dense, grey fog you saw red eyes. A shadowed figured, large and imposing, began taking form of the owner of the red eyes. They were heading towards you at a face pace like when a predator locked in on its prey. A harrowing growl comes from the shadow sends a shiver down your spine. Daniel was so lost in your scent he didn’t realize the figure coming at breakneck speed.

When the figure was close enough you finally caught a glimpse of the shadow.

In a whisper, “Jin.”

Fire burned in his eyes, as he struck like a missile. It all happened in a blur of motion; Daniel was ripped from hovering over you. The vicious growls that came from both beings was terrifying. Jin’s anger had always been cold and blunt. You had only seen it once before, but even then, that time feels minute to what happened in front of you. You had never seen him fight before. Fist struck and the sound of bone cracking was like thunder. It was gruesome.

Daniel lost his balance, his eyes turning red as well. Their heavy breathing steamed around their mouth, their fangs elongated to their lower lip. Daniel twitched seemingly resisting shifting fully. However, Jin was the larger of the two, his body partially shifted. His muscles bulged against the fabric of his clothes. The buttons of his dress shirt barely maintained against this broad chest. His sleeves were rolled up, veins pulsing against his muscular forearms. He was out for blood.

“What the fuck man! Get your own bitch!” Daniel growled at Jin, still maintaining his goal of getting you. When Daniel’s eyes shifted over to you, Jin charged him as the scent of lust filled the air. He grabbed at Daniel’s throat, moving backwards until he slammed him to the wall. He held him growling out words you couldn’t make out until he felt Daniel fall unconscious. His heart was still beating. Released him and let him slump to the floor, hovering over him like a predator.

“Jin.” The quiet whisper of his nickname has him coming back down to earth. He whipped around finding you leaning against the wall, knees weak. Your eyes were wide taking in his face. His eyes the deepest red you’ve ever seen, fangs over his lips, and body near feral. However, as soon as he sees that you, it dropped from him and he looking more like a puppy. He hurried over to you. Instead of greeting he grabbed your chin and angled your head to the side to get a glance at your neck. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was still more wolf than man at the moment. He leaned forward and whined. Your heart stopped in your chest. His body was warm sending a shiver down your spine. His scent was comforting. You hate how good it feels, you hate that your body relaxed instantly when he came to save you. As if you already know everything was going to be alright. To trust and rely on him felt so foreign, but so familiar.

He pulled away but you were so close you could make out his eyelashes individually. He growled, “What were you doing!”

Suddenly what you had been trying to forget comes back full force. Why was he acting like he cared so much? You curled in on yourself, the pettiness returning. “I could’ve handled myself.”

“Oh really? You were just going to let him mark you?” He seethed with an anger like wildfire.

You tried to remain indifferent. “I don’t see what the problem is. It’s just a bite, it’ll heal. I’m not one of you.”

Ignoring him, you pulled your phone out from your pocket showing him that you had a recording going. “I got it.” You pressed pause and saved the file. You hadn’t realized your hands were shaking, the adrenaline of it all still coursing through you.

His brows furrowed. “What?”

“I recorded everything. I even took pictures of him with other women. We can use this as evidence.”

“Y/n?” The moment shatters and you search for the familiar sound of your name.

You see your friend stumbling drunkenly through the door out into the empty alleyway.

“I’m here to save you!” For being a kind, her alcohol tolerance was low. She turned towards you, squinting her eyes. “Whoa, who’s the hot guy? Was I interrupting something.”

You pushed Jin away from you slipping past him to support her as her ankle kept rolling due to the uneven asphalt.

Jin didn’t bother smirking or returning the understanding. He was still beyond pissed.

She looked down to the passed out man, “Holy shit.” She looked to Seokjin, seeing the remnants of his partial shift as he hadn’t bothered to transition back. There was a silent understanding of one another between them as he could tell she was the same as him.

“You were supposed to keep watch, how could you get drunk?”

“I didn’t mean to, I was feeling really nervous about all this. I needed to calm my nerves, so I had a few drinks.”

“We’ll talk in the office.” You directed your words to Seokjin before you began walking away with Mia.

“No, I’m taking you home.”

Mia wiggled her eyebrows. “Can you stay forever?”

You shushed her, bewildered by her behavior. The intense glare he was giving you had you agreeing. “Fine.”

Walking towards his car in silence. She squinted, then her eyes then widened thinking she was whispering to you, “Oh my god is he the one you’ve been talking nonstop about.”

You hush her. “Shut up.”

Through the walk Jin had shifted himself back. A black Audi RS7 beeped as Jin unlocked his car. Mia whistled, “He’s rich.”

“Mia!” You whisper yelled at her. “Please, behave!”

She nodded holding her hands up in an apology. “I’ll behave. I’ll behave.”

You slip into the back with Mia. Her head falls on your shoulder. You gave him your address. He presses the car to start and pulls away. Not long your friend falls asleep, her head falling asleep on your shoulder. You caught him looking at you a few times through the rear-view mirror, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything.

Pulling in the parking lot of your complex, Jin got out first then opened the door for you. He helped you with Mia and supported her up.

Going to the first floor of your apartment complex you made sure Jin was following you with Mia. Shoving the key in your door you let him in, leading him through your apartment to her room. He laid her down onto her bed. You began helping take her shoes off, Jin leaving to go to the living room. Taking a moment to help her clean up and ready for bed. She smiled at you partially awake, partially asleep.

“What?” You smiled back.

Giggling, “He likes you too.”

You froze, staring at her incredulously before you played it off as she was too drunk to know what she was talking about. “You’re drunk go to sleep.”

She shook her head. She grabbed your hand staring you directly in the eyes. “No, I’m sure.”

“He already has a mate.”

Her eyebrows squinted. “No he doesn’t. He doesn’t smell like it.”

You refrained form rolling your eyes. “You wolves and your weird olfactory fixation.”

She sighed then let go, allowing her eyes to close as she fell asleep. You remained crouched by her bed, trying to decipher her words. Jin, didn’t have a mate? And liked you? She must mean that he tolerated you, civil at most. The kiss the other day meant nothing, you were sure of it. It was spur of the moment, high stress and you both didn’t know what you were doing.

She was drunk what did she know.

Standing up with a click to your knees you groaned, you were exhausted. The adrenaline finally wearing away of what happened earlier. Seeing Jin standing in your living room was awkward. He was looking at the photos on the wall. Specifically staring at a photo of when you were younger and Jin was also in it. You both looked so happy, with paint on both of your faces and white shirts.

You hesitate, weirdly feeling as if you were caught with something you should be. “Kinda hard not finding a picture of the old days without you in it.”

He looked at you, putting his hand down from touching the edge of the frame.

When he says nothing you clear your throat, “Thank you.”

He turned towards you, sticking his hands in his pockets, humming in acknowledgement.

“I’ll format all the recordings and photos for the—.”

He cut you off. “You looked happy here.” He pointed to the photo next to the one he was touching. It was of you and a few friends at the beach. It was taken the last year of college.

You smirked. “Hey, I know how to have fun. I’m not all business.”

He smirked, “Would’ve fooled me.” You knew he was poking fun. This time you enjoyed it. Turning to you. “You even turned our night off into a work night, at a club no less.”

You couldn’t argue there, in steading biting your bottom of your lip. He follow the motion before looking up. Clearing your throat you changed the subject. “He said that I was his mate.”

His whole body stiffened. “Impossible.” He crossed the room closer to you, just stopping a foot away.

You looked up at him, the sudden hostility throwing you off. He scanned you over once more. “Are you sure you’re alright? He didn’t touch you?”

“No.” You fought off the blush that threatened to rise to your cheeks. The attentiveness he was giving you was doing things to your heart that you promised yourself you wouldn’t let happen again. You flush suddenly remembering how soft his lips feel.

Nodding seemingly distracted with his thoughts. “I’ll look into that.” He began making his way towards the door and you followed. He stood outside your doorway.

He hesitated before nodding, as if he had contemplated something. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” You returned the words in a soft whisper.

He began walking away towards his car.

“Jin.”

He turned around.

“How’d you know where to find me?”

He paused, his face clearly. Your heart nearly stopped in your chest when a smile, an expression you haven’t seen on him. Jin looked like his old self. “I just went where the wild things are. I knew I’d find you there.”

You laughed, “I hate you.”

A smirk came back to his lips. “Don’t go soft on me now, Y/n.”

You watched him slip into his car before going inside. Alone with yourself you felt unsettled. Lately, it had been happening more. You chalked it up to being stressed, but stress was a constant in your life. This emotion was blaringly obvious to you, but you didn’t understand. Why did him leaving leave a hint of sadness.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, totally. I’ll catch up with you soon.”

Logan pulled a face saying he wasn’t convinced. The others had already gathered their stuff and were heading towards the elevators. Yoongi suddenly threw his arm around Logan’s shoulders. “Let’s go. I need a drink.”

You couldn’t help but smile biting back laughter. Yoongi was a man of few words, but he always knew when to insert himself.

You turn back to your desk when they’re out of sight. In all truth you didn’t want to go. You wanted peace, and despite wanting to follow the social cues it was the last thing you needed right now.

Accompanied by the lone light from your desk, the silence of the office greets you in full embrace. The electronic whorl of central air kicking on. You busy yourself with “last-minute” paperwork you had purposefully withheld on doing, knowing this celebrating was coming. The case had gone incredibly well, it was easy to prove the divorce with your added evidence. It was set to go to secondarily trial within the kind’s court. You just needed to give yourself enough time to know they were out of the building and you could go home.

“Y/n?”

You looked over your shoulder. Seokjin stood there, you could see wear of the day on him but it somehow painted him like oil paint. His hair was disheveled, and the top buttons of his white button up were undone.

“I forgot my wallet.”

You hum. It’s a bit awkward. Watching him round the desk to his in silence. Ever since you had turned in the case over to Yoongi, you had distanced yourself from him. There had been no incentive to not go because of him. It had been a looming idea over your head though that after this you weren’t going to be seeing him.

He held up his wallet, “Found it.”

“You found it.”

He swallowed tucking it in his pocket. He rounded the desk standing just near yours. His hand was clenched in a fist, words on the tip of his tounge.

“Well, it was great working with you Y/n.”

Standing up you extend out your hand. Staring at it for a moment his eyes soften taking yours in his.

“The truce was sufficient after all.” He joked.

“Don’t get too soft on me now.” You joked back.

He smiled. The handshake had long outlived itself, but you still held his and he held yours.

“Well, this is goodbye.” When you tried letting go his grip tightened. “Jin?”

“I can’t. I can’t keep pretending.”

“Pretending?”

“Pretending I’m okay with you walking out of my life again. Pretending that I’m not effected by you. I can’t. I can’t handle it for the second time.”

His logic was flawed. You didn’t allow your heart to pick up pace, fall into his words. “What do you mean? You said you didn’t need me.”

“I lied. I never meant what I said then. I never wanted to hurt you or push you away.”

Your eyes flicker about his face, looking for signs of deception but couldn’t find it. “Then, why did you?”

“I couldn’t control it, I couldn’t control my wolf. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me? Jin, you wouldn’t have hurt me.”

“No, I would have. I couldn’t control it back then, the urges were too intense. I’m weak when it comes to you.”

“You can’t mean that.”

“I do though. I was weak, and whenever you would come near me it became harder to control. The night I found you I couldn’t think straight. Now though, I can’t deny it anymore, I know what I want. And I want you.”

“What do you mean? Don’t you have a mate, what are you talking about?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well don’t you?”

“I’m not seeing anyone or have claimed anyone—yet.”

You pausing looking at his distraught face.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“You don’t?”

“No.” His touches were romantic.

“Well I still don’t see what this conversation has to do with me.” , “Look, I’m not here to get mixed up in whatever.”

“Are you really that oblivious? Do you really not see it?”

“See what?”

He groaned rubbing his hands over his face. “Y/N, you’re killing me here.”

“It’s you. You are my mate.”

Everything froze around you.

Your hands trailed up his chest to wrap around his neck.

“My mate.”

“What?” You freeze. Attempting to put all the pieces of the puzzle together none of it makes sense to you. “You said so yourself humans can’t be mates.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you. You aren’t bound by the same instincts or rules that I am. I was worried, I thought it was only me who felt something. But it’s you, always has been.”

He pulled you closer, and you didn’t fight him.

“Please, I’ll tell you everything, but I need to know. Do you feel the same?”

You swallowed hard. “I do.”

His body melted. “Do you mean that?”

You rolled your eyes. Your hands were around his neck, pulling him down and your lips crashing onto his even before he could finish that sentence. The sudden softness in the midst of the charged tension had you even more sure that you wanted this. The electricity just a kiss from him confirmed it all. You did feel the same way, have for a long time. He reciprocated gripping the sides of your waist and lips moving in tandem with yours. All the built-up tension from before exploded as your tongue brushing against his.

You push him away needing to breath. Tucking his head into your neck he presses kisses into your skin not wanting to part from you. “Why were you so worried? Didn’t you know that I was your mate before?”

“No, we can only begin to find our mates after we’ve fully shifted.“

Finding a place between your neck and collar he nipped at the flesh causing you to moan and shiver. Appreciating the sound he dug his hand deeper into your hair angling your head so he could access it better. “I knew it was you for sure after I shifted, but you were human and I didn’t understand. I had always been told that a mate couldn’t be human. But its been you all along. My elders had tried to talk me out of it, they had tried to keep me away from you. It didn’t help that I had so much to learn after shifting. It didn’t change anything, I kept looking for you. From the first time I found myself in your closet, I was too young to understand destiny, but its always been you.”

You didn’t realize how much you wanted to hear those words from him until he admitted it.

“Why? Why were you so mean.”

“I couldn’t get your attention otherwise.”

You giggled into eachother mouth. “Dumbass, all of this could have been avoided.”

He pinched at your side causing you to shriek.

“Let me take you home.” His voice is low and sweet, and drips like honey.

It takes a second to register what he said, awestruck by how much the words feel common place. “Okay.”

He chases your lips before pulling you along with him. “Wait! I need to get my stuff.”

You laugh at the whine that comes form him as you collect your things form your desk. When you turn around he has his hand extended and you tangle your hand in his. You can’t get the smile off your face. The next movements are rushed as you find yourself in his car. His hand tangles back in yours as soon as he’s in the drivers’ seat.

It takes all about fifteen minutes to get to Jin’s apartment. The moments in between getting there were filled with tension as his hand no longer was just content holding yours but clenching over your thigh and kneading the flesh. Upon reaching his unit he fumbled with the code for a few seconds. When he finally had you inside he pressed himself to you. He no longer appeared to be completely human. His fangs were extended, eyes gleaming red, and he at you like a man starved. He rolls his hips to your center, letting you feel the evidence of his erection tight against his slacks. “Tell me what you want. Anything you want, you can have it.”

“Jin.” You moaned at the feeling of him pressed against your center. You wanted all of him, but you didn’t know how to voice it all. You wanted to feel his weight on top of you, feel him within you and to hold him against you. You wanted more than just that though, but words felt unfulfilling besides his name.

“You really don’t realize what you do to me.” He grabbed under your thighs lifting you up so that your legs rested over his arms while he supported you against the wall. He grinded into you again, his hot breath fanning over your face before he sloppily kissed you.

“You turn me into a beast.”

He shifted so that your legs were wrapped around his waist and he held onto you tightly as he moved towards his bedroom. It all happens so quickly. You were pressed down on his bed with him hovering over you. He tugged at your shirt silently asking for permission to remove it which you give him happily. He pulled it off you delicately, as if you were an art piece he was afraid of breaking. He reached behind you an unhook your bra, tossing it.

He stared for a few moments. You wanted to cross your arms over your chest but he stopped you.

“Beautiful.” He swallowed harshly. He leans down trailing his nose along your sternum before nuzzling at your breast. His hand trailed up the side of your body before reaching your breast and kneading the flesh. His thumb traces over your nipple until they pebbled. With the other his mouth sucked marked into your flesh before taking your nipple into his mouth. You release soft gasp at the gentle pleasure. He switched showering each breast with kisses and small bites until they were both marked.

He propped himself up as he moved his mouth down from your chest to your stomach, caressing your sides. He moved until he was nestled between your legs. Sitting back on his heels he reaches for the waistband of your skirt again asking for permission. Intoxicated on the feeling you nod at him lazily. He pulled it down landing somewhere with your other clothes.

He spread your legs wider fitting himself between your legs. You were so wet that the fabric of your panties stuck to you. Using the slick he traced his finger over your slit, focusing on your clit. Your back arched off the bed, bowing towards the ceiling. It was a simple touch, but you were hypersensitive to his touch. With his face between your legs he looks deliriously in bliss.

The dichotomy of his nature made him an anomaly. He was domineering but tender in each of his approaches. Each motion was made with love, but eagerness to feel you. No partner you’ve had before had been so attentive, trekking your body as it was meant to be explored and learned.

“Shit, Y/n, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?”

You gasped his name when he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your clit. He chuckled, “Is my name the only thing you can say now?”

You flushed, “Stop teasing me.”

He pressed a kiss to your knee soothing the teasing.

“Fuck, you smell so ready for me.”

“Please.” You pleaded breathlessly.

“Just a taste, please.”

You nodded threading your hands through his hair. He hooked his fingers in your panties and pulled them down tossing them somewhere in the room. Yanking you forward and closer to him he spreads your legs for him putting you on full display. Kissing up your thighs moving closer to your center. When he places a kiss on your mound before he begins to gently. He sighed against your folds. “Delicious.”

He taste you longer than just a sample as he buries his head between your legs. The sounds of your moans and mewls awaken the cavernous part of him. He growled, the sound sending shivers down your spine and making you even wetter.

“Jin!” you gasp, as he eats you out. When he pushes a finger inside you can’t help but tighten your grip on his hair. It felt so good, the stretch was sending your sensitivity to overdrive. It has been a long time since you’ve had sex with someone, but your cunt was accepting his finger easily. He worked you up and slipped another finger inside you, the stretch causing you to screw your eyes shut. Letting out a pained cry of pleasure and a bit of sting from the stretch.

“Doing so good for me Y/n.” His fingers moved to spread you open, to let him in. He watched you from between your legs as he increased his pace when he felt you relax a bit around him.

He was driving you crazy, the sounds he was admitting as if he was enjoying it more than you was such a turn on. No one had ever made you feel this way, as if he wasn’t just touching your body but your soul. Your pressing your hips upwards, feeling your end coming near. Your pussy clenches around his finger when he keeps stroking that one spot within you. In combination with his lips on your clit and him finger fucking, you had never felt so much pleasure before.

“I’m—.” Your body tenses and you can feel yourself just on the edge.

“Come for me.” His words commanded you and like a band you snapped. Your walls pulsed around his finger as he kept you through your orgasm. He pulled his fingers out of you, licking them clean. When he seems your release dripping down from your entrance he leaned down licking it up. He pressed his tongue inside you. The action surprising and jerk, but you couldn’t move away. His tongue moved languidly and rhythmically within you until he was content. He continued to lap of your sweet release until you pushed him away.

He crawled over you. “So good for me. Fate couldn’t have chosen a better mate.” His words were possessive but you didn’t mind it. The word mate fell off his lips so easily.

You came down from the high gradually, chest heaving, and eyes

You see that he was still hesitant to let it through. You reached up cupping his face, gently tracing your thumb. “Let go.”

“I can’t. I don’t want to hurt you.” He peppers kisses along your collarbone.

Your fingers make quick work of his shirt. You pause to admire his broad chest. It had been .

He grabs your hand before you reach for the button of his pants.

“Do you really know what this means. Know what I mean when I say you’re my mate and want you?”

“Yes, mark me. Claim me. I want you. I want all of you.”

“Even if it means forever?”

“yes.”

He allows you to undress the rest of him, he kicks off his pants and underwear and he’s completely bare before you.

His endowment makes your thighs clench. His cock was hard, thick and throbbing, the tip ozzing.

Coming down to his elbows he fits himself snuggly between your thighs, cock brushing your pussy. He reaches between you gathering your slick before spreading it over his cock. He teases your pussy by teasing your entrance, and with your slick he coats his cock with it.

“I’m going to fill you with my cum y/n. Knot you so none of it spills out.” He rubbed your hips. “You’d look so beautiful swollen with my pups.”

You couldn’t help but tremble, excitement filling your veins. You wanted to be sated, to feel him inside you already.

“I want it Jin.”

‘Anything for you, my love.”

That was the last warning you got before he was pressing into you. He watched your face as he filled with you with this thick length. You cried out, as you fisted the sheet under you. “Oh my god.”

His grip tightened on your hips enough you were sure they were going to bruise later. He was trembling just as much as you were. Slowly sinking in you he pumped until he was full seated inside you.

“Holy shit, this is way better than I’ve ever imagined.” He paused allowing you to adjust to his size.

When you shifted against him he took it as a cue to finally move. He pulled out almost the full way before he was sliding back in slowly. It drew out a choked moan from the both of you. His length dragged against your walls hitting that spot each time.

“Harder, please, harder!” You cried out. You trusted him enough to know he would keep his strength in check. You knew he could crush you, as lifting you earlier seemed like nothing to him.

The pace was gentle until he picked up a merciless pace. Each powerful thrust pushed him in deeper to you. You were quickly unraveling approaching your second orgasm in record time. The sensation of everything was addicting as you lost yourself in the pleasure. Tears built in the corner of your eyes.

He mouthed at your neck murmuring, “My mate. My sweet little mate, so good for me. Taking me so well.”

Nearing your orgasm you began trembling in his embrace. “Come again for me, my love. Give it to me.”

You clenched around him, shattering around his cock and in the same moment he sunk his fangs sunk in between your neck and shoulder. The pain meshed with the pleasure into an addictive eliquer that flooded your system.

He kept going. “Too much Jin!”

Licking clean the marking he pulled away from your neck. He pressed your legs up into your chest. He could see his cock going in and out of your swollen lips. He kept pounding into you, somehow reaching deeper into you. “I’m going to fill you up, love. Do you want it baby?”

You nodded. “Give it to me.” Tears were spilling form your eyes from the overstimulation.

With a final slam of his hips his length swelled inside you spilling his seed within you. When you expected it to end his length was still swelling at the base.

“Jin, what’s happening?” Your nails dug into his shoulders.

“Shhh, baby, its okay.” His mouth slipped back over to your neck, kissing over the fresh mark. He peppered you with affection as his hands soothed your flesh. He relaxed your legs until they wrapped around his waist holding you close.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore the knot stopped swelling. You heaved, panting slightly from the painful stretch.

“You did so well.”

You smiled, pulling him to your lips to kiss. The way he was looking at you as if you were his world had you reaching up to cover your face.

“What just happened?”

He stilled, “Do you regret it?”

You pulled your hands away form his face. “No, no, no.” He easily succumbs when you pull him closer to you. You rub your nose against his back and forth, wanting to return the affection. “It was perfect.”

He flushed crimson.

You spend hours after within eachothers embrace, even when his knot swelled down. You talked, whispered words of affection to eachother and fell into eachothers embrace again. Like the first time his touch is gentle, he praises the moon for bringing him to you. He leaves no part of you untouched, and you his.

You feel at home for the first time in a long time.

When the sun rises, you wake in his arms, head in the crook of his neck, as he held you tightly to his chest. Bodies still bare, you both felt there was no need to cover, he had his hand over your hip. Breathing in the scent of him and . The silence doesn’t feel uncomfortable. The sound of his heartbeat in your ear was calming.

Slowly pulling away from his neck you reach up and caress his face. With your thumb you trace under his eye and cheek with a butterflies touch.

“I love you.”

He smiles. “No. I’m supposed to say it first.”

You quirk a brow at him. “Who says so?”

He opened his eyes, the trails of sleep still evident. “I do. I love you, always have.” He captures your lips in his.

“You stayed.”

You pulled away. “Of course, I would.”

He smiled. “I know, but to have you here. In my bed. Next to me. It all seems like I’m still dreaming.”

“Oh my god, you’re so cheesy, you dork.”

“But you like it.”

Giggling as he peppers kisses all over your face you manage to worm out of his embrace. You jump out of bed. Taking his dress shirt from off the floor you toss it over yourself buttoning up a few buttons. “Don’t sour the sweetness too soon, wolf boy.” You let the last word roll but with no real malice. You know the word will rile him up.

From the bed he watched you. He had never seen anyone more beautiful. You had his heart that was for sure. He tossed the blanket off of himself chasing after you. “You take that back.”

You giggled running down his hall and out of sight with him chasing right behind you.

Even after the wildest journey, some things in life, like home, just won’t change.

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