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venusiangguk · 2 years

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the art of yearning | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc

>>genre: friends with benefits, smut, angst

>>word count: 15.7k

>>warnings: dom jk, sub oc, age gap, taekook heart to heart, a lot of self-directed negative thoughts from nari’s father </3, jaykay being a dumb man 😕, jaykay needing everything spelled out for him 🙄, tae to the rescue <3, hobi for comedic relief bc jfc 😭 the YEARNING, guilty jerk sesh lets goooo, lots of memories n fantasies <3, omg slight hinting at jk’s subby era!!, 1 finish followed by many regrets n thoughts ~~

>>notes: part 1 of 2 <3 this part is the post-fight happenings from jk’s pov! i split it up bc as we can see it’s already quite long 🥲 pls dont be mad at me <3 i hope u guys are able to understand jk’s reasoning n thought process a lil more after this !!

this is part of my dilf jk series that can be found on my masterlist

>>summary: jungkook wants you as much as he misses you.

It’s a bit colder than the last time he was here. The air a bit chillier, the wind a little sharper. It’s admittedly been a while. A month, maybe a touch less. Jeongguk hasn’t really been keeping track.

Circumstances, like the weather, differ from the last time he was here as well.

It shouldn’t still feel like it’s as big of a deal as it does. It shouldn’t still be pressing so heavy on him, and it definitely shouldn’t cross his mind as often as it does when he deliberately does his best not to think about it. About you.

You said you would think about things, but Jeongguk never said the same. So he truly does not understand why he just cannot keep you out of his head.

When it’s his week with Nari, it’s not as bad– the thought of you isn’t so nonstop. Her terrible two’s, which really aren’t that terrible, keep him busy.

Constantly trying to keep up with her, or running around his home trying to find that damn narwhal that she always seems to misplace, even though he feels like she always has it in her tiny hands. She’s taken it with her everywhere since you got it for her. And there you are again. On his mind, clouding his thoughts.

Constantly redoing her pigtails that she yanks out. It’s a new, maybe slightly terrible, habit that she’s picked up. And they’re still always lopsided despite the numerous times you tried to show him how to make them symmetrical. You said something about tugging gently on the tiny sprouts until they were where he wanted them so– There he goes.

Constantly closing and reclosing the baby gate she’s learned to open in the gym whenever he tries to clear his head by getting a workout in. Exercising does help a small amount when he’s not interrupted by his daughter. And when he doesn’t think about how the smudged handprints on the mirror got there. The ones that he has still yet to clean. Those instances are a bit gross but they aren’t exactly his fault. He doesn’t actively think about you then; he’s reminded.

A lot of things seem to remind him of you.

Work also keeps him occupied for the most part. Until it doesn’t.

Visions of you on your front, against his desk, with your hands cuffed behind your back, interrupt him during his video conferences. The metal part of his chair has scratches on it from where the same cuffs rubbed against it, metal on metal, as he struggled against their hold with you on top of him– his suits get caught on the ridges, the material getting snagged on the raised, uneven metal. Just like you get caught on the ridges of his brain, the memory of you getting snagged on his conscience.

Jeongguk feels so guilty when he lets his mind wander to you like that.

But that’s not even the worst of it. It’s even harder when Nari is at Dasom’s.

That’s when it really hits him– how intertwined you had become in his life.

You’re not there anymore, but you’re still everywhere.

You’re in the kitchen when he wakes up to make his morning coffee. In his shirt with sleepy eyes and a hopeless smile on your face as you laugh embarrassed. Telling him in your slightly scratchy morning voice that you had wanted to surprise him with his americano, but you couldn’t figure out the ‘fancy, high-tech’ coffee machine.

He can’t even remember how many times he showed you how to work it. You were able to figure out the blender eventually, but the Jura he splurged on seemed to have been a lost cause.

You’re in his closet when he picks out his clothes; you’re picking out some of his to wear as your own, too. You’re in the articles of clothing you left behind, still taking up space in his dresser just as much as you’re still taking up space in his mind.

You’re on the couch with him when he settles down after work, fidgeting because you were never able to sit still for very long. Going back and forth between having your feet tucked underneath you, and outstretched on the recliner. Between having your head in your hand, and in his lap.

Jeongguk will say that he’s able to get through a series, a movie, a documentary– much faster, and he’s able to remember the premise a lot better now that he doesn’t have you constantly asking him questions about the plot. Questions you would have found the answer to eventually if you would have just watched. An annoying, yet cute and endearing tendency of yours that he misses more than he thought he would and more than he probably should.

You’re in the garden too. In the flowers, the colors of the petals match the color of your nails that week. You’re in the grass, resting atop a blanket, head pillowed on your arms, just watching him as he tends to the weeds. You’re in the sun that beats down on his back because it feels warm, exactly like you did.

A brisk breeze blows Jeongguk out of his thoughts and back to the present. He’s met with the familiar door in front of him. He’s apprehensive as he brings his hand up to knock.

It opens before he even gets a chance to rap his knuckles against the wood, and he’s face to face with an overly excited, loud person.

“Hello, my good…” Hoseok’s bright smile drops and his brows pinch in confusion, “singular bitch?” His tone is puzzled as he looks at Jeongguk and then over his shoulder like he’s searching for someone. “Where’s __?”

Jeongguk sighs quietly, knowing that the questions were inevitably going to come. He RSVP’d you coming with him to Friendsgiving a bit prematurely, even before he asked you, just figuring it would be a given that you would agree and want to join. You were supposed to go with him and–

He feels a teeny, tiny hand squeeze at his pinky, trying to get his attention. Nari’s eyes are big and round as she looks up at him. Her orange, leaf-shaped hair bow is about to fall out as she babbles a mostly decipherable version of your name, and Jeongguk’s heart chips a little in his chest. Her speech is getting better every day, even if she still babbles in broken phrases. Even if a lot of her words are still hard to pick up on and talking is her last resort. After you left, your name became one of the few words she could say clearly.

He gives her a gentle, sad smile and shakes his head softly. “Not today, boba.”

Nari seems mostly unbothered, used to that answer by now, her attention going to the rings on her dad’s fingers. She doesn’t ask about you as much anymore. Only when she’s reminded of you, like just now when Hoseok said your name or that time Jeongguk caved and looked through his photos with her tucked into his side while he thought she was preoccupied with her show on the tv. Maybe you’re starting to fade away in her little baby brain.

Jeongguk’s attention goes back to his friend, who is standing with a tense smile on his face. “Thanks for that,” he says with a pointed look, walking through the threshold with full hands.

Hoseok throws his palms up. “Well how was I supposed to know you and __,” he mouths your name silently, “broke up? You don’t ever even reply to the groupchat anymore.”

“That is because I have the groupchat muted. Also, we didn’t break up. We were never together,” Jeongguk says matter-of-factly, plucking the bow from Nari’s hair and trying to fix it and put it back in with one hand. He taps the little, lop-sided sprout and says, “Go on, say ‘hi’ to Uncle Hobi.”

Nari smiles, the tulle bottom of her poofy dress bouncing, her teeny mary janes clicking with each step as she toddles over to her uncle. She extends her pudgy arms, one of her hands holding her narwhal.

Hoseok crouches, picking up the baby. “Oh my goodness! Look at all those 2-year-old teeth!” His eyes drop to the plush she’s holding by the horn, “And what is th-”

Jeongguk interrupts him, shaking his head and making a loud, scolding, AH sound. And when their eyes meet, Hoseok’s are wide and confused, and Jeongguk’s are trying to convey ‘do not’.

“Okay!” Hoseok carries on swiftly, the same stiff smile still on his face, “Let’s get Daddy to drop off that pie he’s holding, and then you can go see all your cousins and aunties and other less important uncles, hmm?” he coos to Nari, turning to walk towards Namjoon’s kitchen.

“Jes!” she spouts, nodding in a rather professional manner like the plan is exactly perfect and like they should get right to business. She points towards where she knows the kitchen is with 3 of her baby fingers.

Jeongguk follows suit smiling softly at his daughter while he simultaneously readies himself to face the onslaught of questions. The ones about where you are, what happened, and who did what. Whose fault it is. If he’s reached out; if you have. If he regrets it; if he misses you. The sooner he gets that over with, the sooner he can have a glass of wine. Or two.

Hoseok has other plans, sitting Nari’s butt on the marble countertop, next to the pie that Jeongguk sets down. When Jeongguk looks at him ready to take their leave, Hoseok is looking at the dessert.

“What the hell is that, JK?”

Jeongguk’s mouth drops open, before he sniffs, offended. “I made it from scratch and I worked very hard on it and you’re very rude.” He glances at the pie that’s under scrutiny, and will admit (to himself) that it’s not particularly… pretty. But it’s still edible. Probably.

His friend makes a disgusted face that he doesn’t even try to hide. “Why didn’t you just buy one like we normally do?”

The whole group rotates what they bring every year, and yes, everyone aside from Yoongi and Taehyung’s wife all provided a store-bought pie when it was their turn. Jeongguk shrugs.

“You can grill. You can’t bake. You know this,” Hoseok reminds.

When Jeongguk just stays quiet, Hoseok groans, rolling his eyes. Nari mimes him like a little parrot, her groan tinted with laughter like she thinks she’s the funniest thing in the world. Jeongguk agrees.

“Don’t tell me–” Hoseok starts.

“I just didn’t want to go to the grocery store,” Jeongguk interrupts, his voice huffy, even though he tries to sound nonchalant. Like it was completely normal for him to avoid the grocery store he’s been going to regularly for years.

“Jeongguk,” the elder gripes, “what the fuck is going on?”

Hoseok whispers the swear word as if that will prevent Nari from hearing it when she’s sat right in front of him and Jeongguk scowls, grabbing his toddler. He’s turning to walk away and talking over his shoulder. “She can still hear it even if you whisper it.”

Quick footsteps catch up to Jeongguk before they fall into step with him. “Have you just been eating takeaway for–” Hoseok pauses, “however long it’s been? Don’t you care about your spawn’s health?”

“Don’t call her that and of course, I haven’t,” Jeongguk replies, disgruntled. “I’ve been getting groceries delivered… Yoongi left us some food a couple of times too.”

“Thank god for Yoongi,” Hoseok says with a roll of his eyes. “Have you been getting them from that place with the ridiculous delivery fee?”

Jeongguk stays silent once again, adjusting Nari on his hip. Only a couple more feet until they reach the backyard and he can be free from Hoseok’s pestering.

“You know just because you have a lot of money and can spend it on stupid things, doesn’t mean you should,” Hoseok says in a rather bored tone before adding, “Also you could have literally gotten a pie delivered.”

Jeongguk pauses when they reach the sliding glass door, turning to look at the other. “First of all I tried, they’ve been sold out since Tuesday. Second of all, can we please just drop it? At least for right now?” he asks, a bit quieter. “I’ll tell you later, I just–” He tapers off at the end, his lips pursing.

Hoseok softens, as he reads Jeongguk. He notes how tired he looks, his eyes dark underneath. The kind of sad twinge the younger’s voice has taken. How his shoulders sag a bit like something’s been weighing him down. And then Hoseok simply gives a nod and a small, slightly apologetic smile.

His hand comes to Jeongguk’s shoulder and he squeezes a few times, hoping the gesture comes off reassuring. “You know I’m just messing with you. And that I only ask because I care. Tell us when you want.”

It’s then that Jeongguk’s reminded why they all have been friends for so long, and why he’s so grateful for them.

Although he’s had the groupchat muted, he’s glanced at it. He saw everyone still including him in the conversations even though he never replied.

Saw the individual texts from them too.

Jimin’s telling him that Solmi misses Nari and that they should have a playdate. Volunteering to host said playdate, to watch the girls for a little while, to let Jeongguk have a break if he needs it.

The ‘just checking in on you’ texts from Joon. Simple yet heartfelt messages that were a little too soft to read without his eyes stinging.

The offers from Jin and Hoseok to be his workout partners– the ones given despite the fact that everyone knows the older two have done their best to avoid joining Jeongguk at the gym since he picked up his relatively new and exceedingly intense boxing workouts.

Yoongi’s straightforward messages. Merely short notes; just quiet reminders that told Jeongguk a lot more than to remember to bring in the food Yoongi left by the door, to be quick so the bugs don’t get to it. I’ll take care of you, but remember to take care of yourself too.

Taehyung’s ‘wyd’ texts, followed by a game invite on the Xbox that Jeongguk’s been playing more often than he’d liked to admit. He never pushed when Jeongguk declined, even though he could see him online.

Hoseok opens the sliding glass door for them, and everyone’s heads turn to look. And it would be funny, the way that everyone’s smiles turn a little confused. If said smiles didn’t precede inquiries.

“Where’s __?”

Jeongguk loves his friends, but it’s going to be a long night.

~~~

The fancy outdoor patio lamps on Namjoon’s deck double as heaters and keep Jeongguk from shivering in the late autumn air as he sips that glass of wine he promised himself. A red that’s a hint more bitter than what he usually likes, but it seems fitting.

Maybe he’s a bit dramatic. And maybe he’s wallowing.

But he blames it on the alcohol. Doesn’t acknowledge that he’s been down, off, for a while. About a month, maybe a touch less.

He moves his gaze from the red he’s absently swirling in his glass to the house, peering in from the outside. Sees all the kids playing in the living room, some of the adults on the couch by the fire, some in the kitchen still picking at the leftovers that Namjoon’s fiancée is trying to put away. That’s a recent development that came as no surprise, and Jeongguk’s happy for Namjoon and Hyesoo, but he wishes he could be happier.

One of Taehyung’s twins has Nari on their back, her hands gripping tightly in the floppy mop of hair on the boy's head. Jeongguk smiles softly to himself when he sees her mouth open and her eyes turn into tiny, little half-moons as she laughs. He closes his own briefly, tries to hear her baby giggles in his head. When he opens them again, his view is cut off by the twins’ dad.

The bottle in Taehyung’s hand is full and the same kind that’s in the glass Jeongguk’s been nursing. He's holding another for himself as well. He stays quiet for a while as he stands behind the seat across from Jeongguk.

“We’re gonna pull names for Secret Santa soon,” Taehyung eventually states.

Jeongguk inhales deeply before blowing out like he’s readying himself to be around the rest of the gang again. His breath makes the few out-of-place strands of hair that have fallen across his forehead flutter, his hairstyle now messy from his hands running through it one too many times. Then he nods. “Alright. Should probably head inside then.”

Taehyung mirrors his nod with a contemplative look. “Or we could just chat for a while. Make the kids practice patience for once.”

“We could,” Jeongguk agrees easily, a barely-there grin on his lips. Maybe because he doesn’t want to go inside. Maybe because he knows his friend will quote-unquote, make him talk about what happened. He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t think talking through everything would help alleviate some of the ache.

The older boy looks like he gets himself comfortable, taking a seat and pulling the cork from the bottle. He tops off Jeongguk’s glass and while he’s filling his own he says, “Why’d you end things with her?”

Jeongguk falters briefly, the wine glass pausing right before it reaches his lips. “You don’t know it was me that cut it off.”

He gets a shrug in response. “I suppose. But if we’re going off track records, it’s you that has a bad one.” Taehyung snickers when Jeongguk scowls at him.

Jeongguk clicks his tongue as he takes another, bigger sip. “Fair, I guess…” he amends, but doesn’t elaborate. Instead, he just sighs. “I don’t know. She’s too young. Or maybe I’m too old. Maybe the places that we’re at in life are just too different.” He doesn’t say it, but he thinks that he may be too far ahead and that he’s not sure if you would have been able to catch up because that’s just the way that time works. “Either way, it doesn’t matter.”

“Did she somehow get younger since the barbeque? Because it didn’t seem like it bothered you then?” Taehyung asks with a chuckle before adding, “Also, 7 years isn’t even that big of an age difference. I think the thing that might make you feel like it’s a bigger deal than it is, is the fact that there is such a drastic difference in your careers… ”

He ponders quietly for a second before he decides to tack on, “Which is okay, you’re allowed to be cautious about that kind of stuff. If I made as much as you, I would too,” Taehyung puts a humble hand to his chest, a soft laugh falling from his lips. The hand he raises is modest because he does very well for himself, right on par with Jeongguk and they both know it. “But I also hope you know that it’s normal for her to not know what she wants to do at her age. Not everyone is like you and Dasom were.”

The way Jeongguk’s cheeks turn to a faint hue of pink at the mention of the barbeque is an involuntary reaction, and he presses his eyes shut to try and fight off the wave of embarrassment. But little snapshot memories of you play against his lids like a montage– you in the water talking with Jin’s wife, at the edge of the pool with aioli on your bottom lip. In the chair next to him with Nari sleeping in your lap, in the bathroom with flushed cheeks, and him between legs. In his hands, in his arms, in his heart.

He revels in it, lets himself miss you for just a moment.

“___ met her by the way. Dasom, I mean. That was the– catalyst? The thing that got the ball rolling, I guess?” Jeongguk states softly, like he’s not sure if he chose the right words. He’s trying for an air of nonchalance, his eyes flicking downcast as his tattooed fingers toy with the stem of his glass.

“And that never really bothered me surprisingly. Like her job…” he adds with a half-hearted shrug. “But you’re right. It’s okay that she doesn’t know what she wants to do career-wise yet…” He watches a droplet of condensation run down the curve of the glass until it drops, the moisture making the wood of the table a few shades darker.

“But that was just another factor. The not knowing that came with her being so much younger. I think she thought that she knew what she wanted. Thought that she wanted to be with me.” He shrugs again, a small, slightly sad smile on his face.

“I’m not sure she knew what being with a divorced father would actually entail, or that she would have still wanted it if she did. I couldn’t let her trap herself, no matter how much I wanted her to stay. It would have just led to resentment and regret. And I wouldn’t have been able to handle her hating me.” He glances at Taehyung briefly before he looks away. “We just had a wake-up call, I guess. A bit of a reality check.”

Taehyung winces sympathetically. “I can see how your current girlfriend meeting your baby mama could make things a smidge tense, and cause you to really think things over, maybe take a break… But enough for you to completely end things?”

Jeongguk doesn’t bother correcting Taehyung. Just shakes his head. “It was always going to…” He pauses, thinks to himself quietly. End doesn’t feel like the right word because you and him never really began. “Stop…” he settles on saying. “If it wasn’t Nari’s mom, it would have been something else, you know? The wake-up call would have come eventually. And sooner is better than later.”

“Wait back up…” Taehyung’s eyes roam like he’s trying to make sense of what Jeongguk is saying and his previous statement is just now registering. “But she said she wanted to be with you?” he clarifies.

Jeongguk nods, takes a sip of wine.

“And you wanted to be with her?”

Jeongguk gives another, more stilted nod. “I mean, yeah…? But like I said, it just wouldn’t have worked –for a number of reasons– and we had a wake-up call.”

“Okay,” Taehyung shuts his eyes and shakes his head along with his hands, trying to shush his friend. “Forget about this alleged wake-up call and your reasons for like two seconds,” he says.

Jeongguk sits quietly across from him.

“So you’re telling me she blatantly said she wanted to be with you–” He places one hand on the table, palm up before continuing. “–and that you wanted to be with her–” He places his other hand on top of his first, interlocking his fingers as if he’s putting two and two together. “–but you ended things, basically made her decision for her–” He jerks his hands apart dramatically, with an explosive gesture. “–because you think she doesn’t know what she wants?”

A brief lull in the conversation ensues.

“Among other things,” Jeongguk quips eventually with pinched brows. He feels a bit small like he’s being scolded.

Taehyung’s head tilts back, and he takes a deep breath before speaking in a very parent-esque tone like he’s trying to explain something to a child. “Jeongguk, you cannot do that. You have got to let people make their own decisions.”

Jeongguk does not appreciate the intonation and he shows as much by narrowing his eyes.

“So ___ met your ex, who probably manipulated the situation to her liking,” Jeongguk opens his mouth to defend the mother of his child –it’s a habit at this point– but Taehyung cuts him off with a raised hand and a roll of his eyes. “The woman literally twists and manhandles situations for a living, please save your ‘Dasom’s not a bad person, she’s not a bad mom’ lecture.”

Taehyung’s known Dasom for a long time and while he’s never really been her biggest fan, even he will acknowledge that part of her, the part that’s calculating and crafty with words, is a skill just as much as it’s a flaw. It always instilled an unsettled, almost disturbed, awe in him when he caught glimpses of how she was able to spin things to get her way and gain control over situations. It made her an incredible lawyer; it allowed her to excel in her field and advance her career incredibly fast.

And he’s well aware that Dasom has a right, to some extent as Nari’s mother, to question who Jeongguk brings around their daughter. But he also knows she can be dramatic, calculative, and quite cruel at times. He doesn’t doubt that seeing someone new in her old home with her ex-husband put her on the defensive… Made her lash out, blow things out of proportion, and use that skill of hers to put thoughts into Jeongguk’s head, and potentially yours too, to attain the upper hand again.

In all honesty, when Taehyung looks at it from an unbiased, objective point of view… He’s not sure he can even blame Jeongguk’s ex. Even if he is harsh for the simple fact that he’s Jeongguk’s best friend and does think that Dasom likely exaggerated the points of whatever she said– it’s not hard to gather that the entire situation was shit all around, and everyone involved was caught off guard.

The natural tension that comes with unexpected and unfamiliar situations probably caused everyone to act in ways they typically wouldn’t. Words harsher, actions meaner, outcomes more drastic. The damage done to all parties by all parties was most likely unintentional, albeit extreme.

But he says what he says, and promptly carries on with his point. “So she met your lawyer ex, and you told her she doesn’t know what she wants…” Taehyung finishes as if he’s keeping a mental tab of everything that went wrong. “And then ___ just… left?”

“It was slightly more intense and painful and complicated than that,” Jeongguk replies in a defensive tone, “but essentially I guess? I mean I told her I wasn’t going to let her stay so what else was she going to do? I didn’t really give her much of a choice.”

Taehyung’s face falls, and he chooses to ignore how easily the words fall from Jeongguk’s lips; almost like they don’t fully register. “Please tell me you didn’t actually say that to her. That you ‘wouldn’t let her stay’.”

Jeongguk stays silent once more, a miffed expression overtaking his features this time.

“Jesus, Gguk.” Taehyung pinches the bridge of his nose, looks like he’s in actual pain because of Jeongguk’s actions. “Have you talked to her since?”

The younger one deflates, his irritation transitions quickly and smoothly to dejection. “Kinda. She left in the middle of the night really upset… like crying. And we– she was probably tired… Then add the stress of Dasom showing up–”

He winces to himself, remembering the state you were in. He wasn’t much better off, but still, he feels bad because– “I knew all of that and I still let her leave. Obviously? Right? Because I was the one that told her to go?” He looks confused, like he’s trying to make sense of his past actions and what he was feeling at that moment because it doesn't quite make sense now.

“Anyway, I got really worried and I impulsively texted her, asking if she made it home safe…” After a tense pause, he tacks on: “She didn’t reply.” Like it’s an afterthought.

“And neither would I if someone said the things you said to her, to me,” Taehyung says with a flat stare.

“Who’s side are you on?” The questioned reply sounds whiny, maybe slightly begging.

“Yours!” Taehyung exclaims, “We are all Team Jeongguk except Jeongguk.”

The notes of the conversation have been a bit melancholic for obvious reasons, but it’s more or less remained easy to manage. However, as Jeongguk holds Taehyung’s stare for a few long moments he feels a wonted, recognizable ache begin to stop up his voice. He looks away with a shake of his head. “You don’t get it. You don’t know everything that happened, or how it felt to get rid of her when she was–”

Cutting himself off is a consequence of the lump in his throat. That familiar, ordinarily tender ache growing until he can’t get around it anymore.

“Then tell me,” Taehyung stresses, adding a pleading edge to his words. “Explain to me what happened, describe how it felt to cut her out. When she was what? Spell it out for me,” he requests.

Sure he wants to know, but he’s mainly trying to keep Jeongguk talking. Trying to get him to work through the false narratives he has in his head for why he ended things with you, while he explains them to him.

Jeongguk’s brooding; ruminating as he tries to sort his thoughts. Surface level– they're easy, simple questions when he thinks about them easily and simply. When he contemplates them in superficial ways.

What happened? He cut you out.

How did it feel to cut you out? It hurt.

What were you to him that made it hurt when he cut you out? The basic, most elementary explanation would be that you were someone he cared about and someone he wanted to keep.

It's simple enough to explain, easy enough to understand when he describes it superficially.

But when he digs deeper, thoroughly reflects– it’s not as easy. It’s quite the contrary.

Because with depth comes intricacies that are so weighted and hold so much gravity that it makes them too difficult and complex to explain. They are too personal and intimate and special to describe to someone who just isn’t privy.

Jeongguk couldn’t even figure it out. Even he wasn’t able to grasp, couldn’t comprehend, wasn’t able to figure out a way to make you and him simple; him and you easy enough to just work.

And if he couldn’t understand it– he’s not convinced he’ll be able to break it down and simplify it enough to elucidate it to someone who doesn’t know you as he did, someone who didn’t get to experience you the way he got to.

Because it’s all so much bigger than ‘cutting’ and ‘hurting’ and ‘caring’ and ‘wanting’.

Jeongguk gives Taehyung the plainest, most straightforward explanation that he can muster. “It hurt to cut her out because I cared about her and I wanted her. But I had to.”

“If you wanted her, why didn’t you let yourself have her?” Taehyung asks, his voice inquisitively puzzled and laced with empathetic pity. “Why did you have to?”

“It was never supposed to be serious,” Jeongguk snaps, his voice vexed and short, like he’s irritated that he has to explain because it should be obvious. “We were never supposed to get as involved or like– as invested as we did. That wasn’t part of the plan–”

Taehyung retaliates and makes his voice sharp to match. “Oh for fuck’s sake, Jeongguk. Was the divorce not enough for you to realize that plans don’t mean shit? Was that not enough for you to see that even literal years of planning won’t keep something from falling apart?”

The shift in the atmosphere could be felt even as he was still speaking. Now that he’s done and it's quiet, the tension is palpable and Taehyung knows he’s so incredibly close to overstepping. He can tell Jeongguk is trying to keep himself calm. The younger has his hands curled into tight fists and he does that tick– the one where he subtly jerks his head to the side, jutting his jaw out firmly. But still, Taehyung continues, although he treads a bit more carefully this time.

His voice is quiet and he’s talking at a slower pace than normal like he’s trying to ease Jeongguk into his next point. “Was having a baby to save your marriage part of your plan?”

It’s not a laugh; the sound that leaves his lips can’t be classified as that– but Jeongguk barks out something. Maybe a scoff? A cackle? Taehyung can’t be sure, but it's an irate, sarcastic, scary thing that lets him know that Jeongguk is fuming, just shy of being absolutely done with him and his shit.

“Tae, I promise you that if you do not think before you open your fucking mouth again–”

Taehyung winces and raises his hands in both surrender and defense like he’s trying to placate Jeongguk while also trying to protect himself. “Please– just let me finish?”

Jeongguk says nothing– the lividity coloring his features is telling enough. And Taehyung should probably do the same: Say nothing and heed the verbal and gestural warnings. Should probably read the room.

Naturally, he does not. Instead, choosing to tentatively continue.

“Was having a baby to save your marriage part of your plan? No. It wasn’t. But!” Taehyung rushes the words out, using the conjunction as a way to let Jeongguk know that he still has more to say and a chance to redeem himself.

“But– it also didn’t ruin anything. Something happening that isn’t part of the original plan, doesn’t automatically mean the new outcome is going to end up bad.” Taehyung watches Jeongguk’s scowl intensify, but he also sees how his clenched fists lose some of the tension, the veins and tendons becoming more subtle under his tattooed skin.

“You ended up with the best thing that’s ever happened to you because things didn’t go according to plan,” Taehyung reiterates, his voice soft, yet stern.

There’s a decent lull in the flow of the conversation; enough time for Jeongguk to speak up. Taehyung decides to continue when he doesn’t.

“Make all the plans you want, Jeongguk. But you will never be able to plan for everything. It’s impossible because there’s no way for you to know what’s going to happen.” He gives him another chance to say something, but Jeongguk’s lips are pressed in a stubborn line and his jaw is clenched.

Taehyung begins again, “You can make all the plans you want but most, if not all, of them, aren’t going to go the way you thought they would or the way you thought you wanted. They’re going to deviate in some way or another because you were planning for something uncertain and constantly changing.”

“There’s a chance that some of the outcomes will be bad, and that they will hurt so fucking bad. It could end up being the worst thing that ever happens to you. And I get being scared of that. I get why you want to plan, and why you have this ‘one or the other/all or nothing/black and white' mindset. I know it feels safer and like you have more control,” Taehyung sympathizes.

“But you have to acknowledge that there’s also a chance that an unplanned outcome can be better than an intended one. It could be the best thing that ever happens to you. It could be a ‘Nari’ outcome.” Taehyung tries for an encouraging smile. “___ might be one of those ‘plans’ that don’t go the way you mean for it to but end up resulting in something better. But you won’t ever know if you don’t let go of some of that control and just let things happen.”

The sentiment Jeongguk is left with is a bruising, taxing one. It’s making his throat tight and swallowing Taehyung’s notions, a chore. He’s blinking back heavy, angry tears, because he knows that what his friend is saying makes sense. He also knows that it doesn’t really change much of anything because he already let you go.

“I know that I can’t control everything and that I can’t predict every single outcome,” Jeongguk starts, “But I have to think about things long-term. If I can prevent certain things from occurring, or even encourage some, by planning… Then I have to at least make an effort to. For Nari’s sake.”

“Well obviously you think long-term about the big picture,” Taehyung agrees. He’s a father too, after all. “But you have to be willing to compromise and adapt along the way. It doesn’t have to be completely all or nothing or as extreme as you think it does. You can change your mind as things happen. Choices aren’t contracts. You can have a change of heart and you can change the quote-unquote, plan.”

Jeongguk feels his stomach drop at the last part of Taehyung’s statement, feels a little sick actually– so he bypasses it completely, acts like he doesn’t hear it. Instead, he says, “I didn’t do that with ___. Looking back, it feels like I didn’t think about anything long term when I was with her.”

Taehyung looks at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“It was like everything was only as big as her. I only thought ahead when I was thinking about the next time I would see her. I stopped planning and being responsible and I started overlooking what should have been important and–” Jeongguk’s mouth opens and closes a few times like he’s trying to find the words but he ends up just shaking his head, his voice quiet when he goes with, “It was like I wanted her so badly that I got consumed by her because everything felt so good and I was so happy… I didn’t think about anything else. Didn’t think about Nari, I didn’t think about __… I didn’t even think about my future self.”

Jeongguk’s elbows find their place on the table and he presses the heels of his palms into his eyes, before scrubbing his hands down his face, tired and defeated looking when he glances up again. “I forgot that I had priorities like– I have a baby, a tiny person that is directly dependent on me for everything. I– I can’t just do that.”

“Also, I was being so selfish the whole time,” he transitions in an almost panicky tone. He’s rambling, ranting perhaps, with a self-directed, humorless laugh, “And it was so easy to be that way and get lost in her because of how she was. She was so good, Tae. Like carefree, and sweet, and so giving. She made everything so–”

His words get cut short. Caught on his heart that’s ballooning; swelling so big in his chest. Filling his pleural cavity with this contrite guilt that’s so sharp it cuts through his brain fog and he becomes so miserably aware of the fact that maybe it was so easy for him to be so selfish –so thoughtless– with you was due to you being so ready and so willing to give him everything– without asking for anything in return.

He didn’t have to give to get –and he didn’t mean to, he didn’t do it consciously– but he ended up just taking and taking and taking.

The epiphanic dawning makes it sound raw, almost choked when he gets out, “–just so much better and easier.”

“Gguk–” Taehyung tries.

“God I was so fucking selfish– like so careless with her,” he repeats. Sounds kind of shocked, surprised with himself. “Like– I knew I had no intention of keeping her. Even if I ended up wanting to, I knew. I always knew I wouldn’t let myself have her like that. And still,” He stresses the word and squeezes his eyes shut and just barely shakes his head, “I still intertwined our lives together so seamlessly and I still–”

The atmosphere is heavy and there’s an air of disappointment cloaking Jeongguk’s thoughts and admissions. It’s undeniable that the chagrin is self-directed; displeased with himself not only because of how irresponsible he feels he was –with you and his daughter– but also because of how he’s let the whole situation deplete him. How he let himself get so fixated that he’s only just now recognizing, or maybe admitting, his faults. How he allowed the situation to evolve into something so much bigger and heavier than it should have; exhausting him.

Taehyung, who finishes off his glass of wine during the pregnant pause, looks across the table and holds Jeongguk’s gaze for a fleeting moment before he’s shrugging. His tone is listless, lackadaisical as he says, “I don’t think you were being selfish. You said it yourself: You were happy with her. She was happy with you.”

Jeongguk sits there, flabbergasted and at a loss for words. It feels like he’s falling apart, maybe close to dying even– yet across from him his best friend looks almost bored? Maybe not bored, but stoically calm? Aloof?

And Jeongguk knows he’s being sensitive and dramatic and he knows it’s not Taehyung that’s becoming hyperconscious of his past mistakes, but aloof isn’t exactly the reaction he expected after more or less having a breakdown. Jeongguk takes a moment, gathers himself just to become confused again when he catches up to Taehyung’s words.

He asks his friend if he means what he said about not thinking that Jeongguk was selfish. Can’t fathom how Taehyung couldn’t see the selfishness of his actions, how he can find him blameless in the situation; when he, himself feels his self-interest was blatant.

“Based on what you told me, I think you portrayed a lot of…” The older one pauses, eyes looking skyward like he’s searching for the right word. It kind of seems like he’s settling, trying to soften the blow, when he says “...unbecoming qualities.”

His shoulders slump at Taehyung’s words, but Jeongguk now deems that he doesn’t need to know how his friend can find him blameless because his friend simply doesn’t.

Not that Jeongguk can blame him.

“But I don’t think selfishness was one of them because I don't think it’s selfish to prioritize happiness,” he states. “It’s the universal pursuit– everyone wants it…” He squints at Jeongguk, his expression mildly captious. “If anything I think you were more selfish when you ended things.”

A soft, unbelieving scoff leaves Jeongguk's lips before he can stop it. He recovers by shaking his head. His fingers extend, and he waves his hands around a little like he’s frustrated. “I ended it for her. So she could be free–”

“So you wanted her to be ‘free’,” Taehyung wiggles his fingers, air-quoting. “but not the kind of ‘free’ where she’s ‘free’ to make her own decisions?”

“I–” Jeongguk’s mouth snaps shut. He flounders a little before he gives up and settles into a malcontent frown.

“Do you see what I’m getting at?” Taehyung asks, his tone slightly parental again. Sounds mostly patient, if not, just edging on short.

Jeongguk’s reply is headstrong silence.

“You completely snubbed her and overlooked what she wanted to do what you wanted because you thought it was selfless and the right thing–”

“I didn’t want to–”

“But you must have?” Taehyung says, his palms open and gesturing in front of him like the proof is plain to see, like it’s right there on the empty table between them. He’s tried to stay patient, keep that calm tolerance. But he’s just over how dreadfully dense his friend is being. His tone is no longer just edging on short– Taehyung’s past that. It’s almost malicious and instigative when he snaps, “Because if you didn’t want to, Jeongguk, then why did you do it?”

Jeongguk’s nostrils flare slightly as he tries to not lash out as he counters, “I already told you–”

“Yeah, you told me a whole bunch of bullshit excuses for not trying.”

An offended, indignant gasp is the only comeback Jeongguk can give before Taehyung is ranting again, talking over him.

“Okay,” His gestures go from exasperated to pacifying as he bares his palms to Jeongguk, almost like he’s surrendering. He’s not, of course, but he’ll admit that was a bit harsh. “As I said earlier, I get it. Like yeah. I get being hesitant, I get being scared. I get you feeling guilty for the way that things played out. Those are all totally valid feelings; ways to… act?”

Taehyung thinks, then grins when he comes up with a better word. “Those are all valid ways to behave in this situation.” He nods to himself as if he’s his audience and he’s encouraging himself because he’s giving the best speech known to man.

“But some emotions and behaviors are not valid in this situation. Entitlement, for one. It’s my opinion that you must have been emoting this quite generously considering how you were acting like it was your right to disregard her. Her feelings, her choices, her wants,” Taehyung points to a finger every time he lists something of yours that Jeongguk overlooked, and Jeongguk shirks in on himself a little more each time. In his head, he sniffs, turns his nose up at Taehyung’s opinion.

“Self-righteousness. You know a lot. You may even know more, and better than her about certain things, but not all things. You don’t know everything. Jeongguk does not know what __ wants. Jeongguk does not know what is best for ___. Jeongguk may have an opinion on it, but only ___ knows that. What you think is right, isn’t always what is right. Consider what you were coming off as. As a pretentious, arrogant, self-righteous ass. And for what?”

When Jeongguk parts his lips to speak, to at least try and defend himself, because jesus fucking christ, Taehyung interrupts him.

“For nothing. You’re not the standard.”

“Alright–”

“Pusillanimity.”

Jeongguk purses his lips and allows himself to be talked over, once again, as he shifts feebly in his seat. Wonders when Taehyung's vocabulary became so extensive and mean.

“You’re allowed to feel scared, but you’re not allowed to behave like a pussy about it–”

“I resent that–”

“–as you should,” Taehyung says without missing a beat, smoothly transitioning back to what he was saying. “You’re being a coward, Gguk. Like point-blank. Taking the easy way out and pushing her away because you’re too afraid to take a risk. Because you don’t have the courage to choose her and try.” His expression is sad, dressed with muted disappointment, maybe a glimmer of pity. “And I guarantee that when you chose easy instead of choosing her– it hurt her. She’s the one you were trying to take care of, but she’s the one you ended up hurting. And you hurt yourself.”

Taehyung can see how much self-inflicted pain Jeongguk brought on himself when he hurt you. He’s sure it hurt him in the moment too, but retrospectively, it’s written so transparently on Jeongguk’s face. Brows are pinched, mouth slightly parted, shallow exhales puffing out like Taehyung’s words knocked the wind out of him and he’s trying to catch his breath again.

He shakes his head helplessly, whispers, “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t, and I think she probably knows that too,” Taehyung consoles.

He considers leaving it at that, not wanting to come off more lecture-y than he already has. Feels a little bad about being so hard on the younger, too. But he also feels like Jeongguk has so thoroughly convinced himself that he did the right thing. That Jeongguk has done such a good job of gaslighting himself, that he daftly believes ending things with you was for the best. That ending wasn’t just the only conclusion, but it was an unavoidable conclusion.

Taehyung wonders if maybe Jeongguk is the one that needs things broken down and spelled out for him to get that he could have done things differently. That if he made alternate choices, there could have been an alternate ending where he didn’t break his own heart.

“Jeongguk, you’re a such great dad to Nari. She’s never going to doubt how much you care or how important she is to you because loving her is the thing you're best at,” Taehyung waits just a second before he adds in a gentle voice, “But you’re not just a really great dad, and you’re allowed to prioritize and love other things… other people.”

Jeongguk starts to shake his head, an argument on the tip of his tongue. Ready to tell Taehyung that of course he’s allowed to love other things and other people. He knows this.

That wasn’t the issue with you. He knew that with time the desire he had for you likely would have blossomed into something more. If he chose to– he probably could have loved you. Could have kept you for himself, selfishly, just as he wanted to. He could have indulged in you, could have let himself be smothered in everything that came with you. He could have loved you eagerly, and he knows he could have loved you so perfectly.

Maybe.

With time, probably.

If he was just a touch more greedy than he is, he might have allowed himself.

The issue with you was that he got so immersed in and preoccupied with you that he lost sight of everything else. Let himself get distracted and act in ways that, as a father, he just couldn’t. So while he could have allowed himself to love you, he couldn’t allow himself to become irresponsible. He tells Taehyung as much.

“Gguk, that’s just what happens when you find something new to care about. It’s exciting and it feels good,” Taehyung explains gently, “You fuck up and end up making a few mistakes because you’re a little caught up and preoccupied. Your priorities get skewed because there’s something else that’s becoming important to you too, and you haven’t learned how to manage it.”

“And yeah, you might get selfish and a little consumed. Immersed. But that’s normal, not irresponsible, and you have to cut yourself some slack while you figure out how to make time for it and work it into your life.”

There’s a glassiness gleaming in Jeongguk’s eyes, heavy tears welling until there’s just too many. The drops trek freely despite his efforts to keep them in, his cheeks sticky and salty, his nose runny and red, and his shoulders shaking as he attempts to stay collected.

It’s quiet and he stutters a little as he gets out, “I-it didn’t feel like this with D–” A deep, guilty shame makes it hard to get her name out.

Jeongguk doesn’t even try to finish, persisting with, “I’m just s-scared I’m gonna fuck up again, like I did w-” A watery, frustrated groan cuts him off and he puts his hands over his face when he can’t finish his sentence again because of his cries. Like I did with Dasom. Like I’ve already done, and am still doing with you.

“Gguk,” Taehyung laughs, trying to lighten the mood, “There’s an adjustment period and it’ll take a bit of trial and error, but you’ll find a new balance.”

“___ can be important to you at the same time that Nari is important to you at the same time that Dasom is important to you at the same time that you’re important to you. Caring about one thing doesn’t mean that you suddenly begin caring about another thing less. You just care about them in different ways.”

Jeongguk is trying to compose himself, keeps taking those deep, slightly hiccupy, self-soothing breaths. Holding them in, before blowing them out harshly. Taehyung knows Jeongguk’s almost at his breaking point but he only has a bit left to say.

“Maybe ___ didn’t know all of the stuff that comes with being with someone who has a kid, and an ex, and a past. Maybe she didn’t fully know what she wanted because of that. But you know what you should have done instead of pushing her away?” he asks gently, “You should have explained it to her. Told her the bad and the good. Because of course, it’s a lot; it’s really, really tough. But it’s also so rewarding, and a privilege.”

Jeongguk is growing weepier with each passing minute, but he gives a sorry, sapped nod just to show Taehyung he’s listening.

“After explaining it to her, you should have given her time to think about it, weigh the pros and cons. You should have waited for her to make her own choice. Then you should have considered what would’ve been best for both of you, what would make you both happiest. From there, you should have decided on the next step together. And then you should have tried.”

His leg is bouncing under the table and he twists one of the few rings on his fingers. He’s trying to keep his composure but the more Taehyung explains things to him, the more regretfully obtuse Jeongguk feels.

Because he very well might be all the things Taehyung said he was– but he is a good version of them. He swears it. And he knows it doesn’t really make sense; that it’s almost impossible to be a good type of entitled and self-righteous. That it’s not believable that his cowardly and pusillanimous actions came from a good place. But to him– they did. He knows what his intentions were, and he knows that they were so pure. That he did what he did because he cared about you.

Admitting he was scared, acknowledging that the fear he felt was pure cowardice, is the least he can do.

But in his defense, he just didn’t want to learn what it was to have you, just to end up losing you. He didn’t want to discover how it felt to be loved by you, only for that feeling to get replaced with your resentment. He didn’t want to wholly understand the bliss of you being with him when you were there and present, only to forget it once he came to understand the ache of you leaving; when you were gone.

Now, however, he sees that he fucked up. Can see how narrow-minded he was. How his actions, no matter the intent, didn’t come across the way he wanted. That the outcome didn’t go as he planned.

He’s able to recognize that if a plan can stray and an outcome can change– there can be infinite endings. Good ones, bad ones. Realizes that if pain is possible, so is bliss. Understands that sadness and happiness go hand in hand and that if there’s a chance for one, there’s a chance for the other.

It’s kind of black and white, all or nothing, one or the other in its own way. In a way that Jeongguk hasn’t fully grasped yet, but in a way that he wants to try and learn.

The consequences of his actions and mistakes can be felt physically. It’s a visceral ache, an apologetic longing, an emptiness within him– and it seems like it never goes away. Like there’s this void inside of him that can’t be filled. Like an essential piece of him is lost and has gone missing, leaving a hollow vacancy behind his ribs until he finds it again.

He knows it’s melodramatic; that things end between people that care about each other, that they get over it, and that they move on. It happens all the time. Every single day. He knows– because he cared about Dasom, wanted her– and still, he watched his marriage fall apart right in front of him.

Jeongguk’s never compared you to her or her to you, and he doesn’t start now. But, he does liken the want; tries to differentiate between the way he wanted her and the way he wants you.

Because it’s the same feeling. Want.

But it’s distressing; so confusing because he can’t wrap his head around the same fucking feeling not feeling the fucking same.

It almost instills an anxious uncertainty within him; causes him to question himself a little because he believed he had a good understanding of what it is to want, of how it feels to desire. An understanding of what comes with all the feelings that are akin, too. What it feels like to lust after, to crave, to yearn for, to long for, to wish for.

But apparently, he doesn’t.

Maybe never did.

Because it seems that the only thing he’s sure of now, when it comes to want, is that wanting Dasom didn’t feel like wanting you does. With you –the want, the desire, the yearning– it’s so different.

Come to think of it, Jeongguk wouldn’t be surprised if that novel distinction played a part in his hesitance; that it had something to do with why he pushed you away, why he chose to never let himself have you.

Somehow, you turned feelings he thought he truly understood into feelings that had a sense of ambiguity to them. Feelings that he was suddenly so unaccustomed to that they seemed almost alien –in that anxiety-riddled self-doubting way– because it felt like he had no experience with them, had no idea how to even begin to approach the different that was you.

Taehyung told him he was being a coward. And Jeongguk admitted that yes; he was being a coward. Internally confessed that he was scared to lose you. But as things are falling into place, finally clicking for him, he thinks that the cowardice might have also stemmed from a fear of having you because he didn’t know how to.

Because while you were fresh and exciting –making Jeongguk so brash and so eager– that newness subsequently made you so unlike what he was comfortable with and sure about –simultaneously making Jeongguk so reluctant and so scared.

Only because different is new and it’s strange and it can seem alienating. Different is simply unfamiliar and anything unfamiliar is always a little, maybe a lot scary. Naturally intimidating and unnerving.

He comes to the conclusion that it’s not a comparison. The want. It can’t be, really, because he has nothing to compare it to. He’s never known an appetency as unique as the one he has for you.

The varying wants he’s come across during his life and relationships can’t be compared, but they can be different. And they so clearly are, that Jeongguk’s inability to make sense of it is almost embarrassing. His friend telling him that it’s possible for him to care about things in different ways comes to the forefront of his mind.

“You can… want things… differently?”

Jeongguk feels stupid, so thickheaded because he’s asking for assurance and clarification about concepts that are supposed to be common sense. He wonders when he let his way of thinking get so off-kilter and how many preventable fuck-ups he’s made because of it.

“Obviously and most definitely.”

The sheer amount of thinking he’s had to do, and the inordinate number of thoughts he’s had to comb through are taunting him with a headache. Dull pounding edging at his psyche; his mental and emotional capacity almost running on empty. Yet, he’s not sure he could shut his mind off even if he wanted to.

He’s on the cusp of it. So close to putting the pieces together. On the brink of figuring out the riddle of you and him that seemed cruelly unsolvable; like a sick joke with no punchline.

Jeongguk knows that he wanted Dasom. He knows what they had was good, fulfilling, and comfortable in its own way. But in that same breath, he knows that while it may have been good, it was never blissful; that it may have been fulfilling, but it never made him feel full; that even though it may have been comfortable, it never felt warm. He doesn’t regret it, but he doesn’t miss it either. He doesn’t want it anymore; hasn’t for what seems like ages.

When it came to wanting you– Jeongguk didn’t know until he learned.

Of course, he knew that what you had was good. What he didn’t know was the extent of how good. Only when he determined that it was so good that it was sublime and unlike any mirth he’d known before, to a degree that he’d never felt before– only then did he learn that what he had with you was bliss.

He knew it was fulfilling. That being with you gave him what he needed. Scratched the itch, fed the hunger, served the purpose that a ‘fun and casual’ fling was meant to. But he didn’t know being with someone could be so abundantly and satisfyingly rewarding; until he learned that the fulfillment could reach excess; that he could become so full of you that he was overflowing.

He knew it was comfortable– what you had with him. But he didn’t know being with someone could be so serenely content, dreamily domestic– that it could make the comfort become something he could physically feel. Not until he learned that you were the embodiment of comfort; that when he touched you, what he was looking for became tangible. That when he touched you, he was touching the warmth that lived inside of you.

He didn’t know humans could be homes until he learned that sensations could be envied.

He didn’t know he would regret it; didn’t know he would miss you so much. He didn’t know that the different, unfamiliar, scary want would turn into this habitual, heartsick, delicate yearning.

Jeongguk didn’t know anything until he learned.

And he’s learned that he wants to try.

~~~

A rough, choked sound sputters from his throat when he feels a few heavy thumps on his back.

“There, there,” a voice consoles lazily.

Jeongguk promptly breaking down and melting into a puddle of tears after admitting he fucked up and wants to try and get you back is enough for a tipsy Taehyung to move from his place across the table to the unoccupied one to the right of the younger.

He’s able to peer inside now, his back no longer to the house, and he sees Jimin. He looks a little worried, a wrinkle between his brows as his eyes flit between Taehyung and Jeongguk, who’s got his head down as he cries into his folded arms atop the table.

He shoos Jimin, and now Yoongi with a knocked out Solmi on his hip, away with a dismissive flick of his wrist, giving them a look that says: I’ve got this.

With fingers digging into the sides of Jeongguk’s neck, in a supposed to be soothing way, Taehyung asks, “So what’s the plan, Gguk? Whatcha gonna do to get her back?”

Another weeping sob is the response he gets.

He nods to himself. “Right.”

It’s quiet for a small blip of time before Jeongguk whines, “She never answered my text. She could be dead for all I know, like she could have gotten into a crash or something and it would be all my fault and–”

“Have you seriously not looked her up to check on her?”

“–she doesn’t have Facebook– and I would just have to live with that. And I would deserve to live with it. The guilt–”

“Of course, she doesn’t have Facebook. She’s not ancient,” Taehyung explains with a roll of his eyes as he pulls out his phone from his pocket, “She probably uses Instagram or something. How do you spell her name?”

Jeongguk’s perked up, his red eyes and splotchy face now curiously peeking over Taehyung’s arm. He quietly spells your name out loud and watches as the letters appear one by one in the search bar. A few profiles get tapped through before Jeongguk’s small, sharp inhale lets Taehyung know he found the right one. He willingly hands over the mobile.

The account is public, but Jeongguk’s not sure if that’s better or worse as he takes in what your feed consists of. There’s an assortment of things; pictures of yourself, some with your roommates, a few scenery ones to break up the monotony. One or two of the small succulent he gave you.

There are also some of him. Of Nari.

He finds his thumb moving on its own, tapping on a photo of tiny hands with tiny painted nails.

“Don’t accidentally double-tap; that likes the pic and we’re using Iseul’s account.”

Jeongguk chuckles. “Why do you let your 8-year-olds have phones and social media?” he asks, turning to look at Taehyung, who is still looking at your account. “What happened to playing outside and reading books?”

“Times are changing Ggukkie,” Taehyung muses, “Landlines hardly exist and I want to be sure that they can reach me, you know? Besides, it has parental controls… If you look at Iseul and Haneul’s followed accounts, it’s all just video game stuff and anime shit…” It’s quiet for just a second before he adds, “They could probably give you some cheat codes and tips since you’ve been spending so much fucking time on the PlayStation lately.”

Jeongguk’s bony elbow digs into Taehyung’s bony ribs.

After a small wince, Taehyung asks, “That’s Nari?”

It’s phrased like a question, but to them, it’s obvious that it’s her. But to anyone else, they would have no clue that the baby is his daughter. The photo was taken from a higher-up angle; besides the baby’s little manicured hands, it’s just her baby-soft, wispy hair pinned back by a teeny pink barrette, and the chub of her rosy cheek visible. He thinks he recalls the day you took it.

You had just shown up at his place. No invite, no scheduled plans.

When he opened his door, he saw you standing there with your too-small hands holding a too-full make-up bag, and a too-big smile on your too-pleased face declaring that it was the perfect day for a Spa Day.

You were determined, and you left little room to argue. He didn’t, of course. But he wouldn’t have either. Not when you were right there on his doorstep, practically buzzing with how excited you had been. You were almost giddy; just so happy and eager to spend time with not only him but also his baby.

Jeongguk remembers sneaking little glances at the both of you while he dutifully cut the cucumbers you had asked him to. You were sat on the floor, criss-cross applesauce, and Nari was on the couch in front of you. She had her chunky, stout legs dangling off the edge and her round, little toes right in your face.

Bubble Guppies was on the television, so Nari was occupied and mostly still as you painted her nails a bright shade of corally pink. Messing up only once or twice. Just when the baby giggled and clapped her pudgy hands and when she squealed and kicked her plump feet.

By the time Nari was put down for the night and tucked snug as a little bug in her bed, you and she were twinning; your salon-done acrylics repainted in the same polish. He remembers clearly because he helped you with your weaker hand.

Also because somehow, he ended up matching as well. Funnily enough, you had managed to get him to agree to a single finger of his being painted as well. The pinky on his left hand.

Persuasion might have been a talent of yours. Your charmed kisses convinced him, as well as your rapt, eager touches. The conniving sweet-nothings you recited into his ear, were compelling, too.

Yeah, maybe you were persuasive. Or maybe Jeongguk was just easy. Always too weak for you.

His heart yanks in his chest at the memory and he forces himself to pause the mental replay before it stops being pure and starts being indecent.

Jeongguk’s eyes flicker down to the caption.

spa day 💁‍♀️💅🏻👶🏻🐛👨🏻‍🍼

He feels the slight shake of Taehyung’s body when he chuckles next to him, and the corners of his own lips turn up too as he opens the comments.

flickthebinna: did u have a baby?

ocstagram: not yet… 🤨🤰

flickthebinna: ?

Heat crawls beneath his skin and his cheeks flush pink and Jeongguk can’t stop the clumsy, confusedly pleased laugh he lets out as he clicks back to your feed.

Despite the next picture he taps on being bleary, it’s evident that you’re in a car and that there is a palm resting on your thigh.

The car belongs to him, the familiar interior lights of his Mercedes glowing purple in the photo, the luxury logo on the steering wheel too well-known to be mistaken regardless of the quality– or lack thereof. So naturally, the hand on your leg belongs to him, as well. But like the photo of Nari, no one would know who’s hands are on you or who’s the owner of the car you’re in. Except for the person themself. Even the tattoos on his knuckles are indecipherable due to the poor resolution. The picture looks like it may have been taken on accident or while you were moving– grainy and pixelated and motion-blurred.

It’s captioned with a simple, eloquent: SKRRRR

“What does that mean?” Jeongguk mumbles aloud, moving to the comments again.

Taehyung hums next to him. “An onomatopoeia for the sound a car makes, I think.”

He grunts in acknowledgment as he reads.

jadedjade: that is a sugar daddy car if i ever seen one 🕵️‍♀️🧐

ocstagram: he’s not my sugar daddy 🙄🤚

ocstagram: he’s my best friend 😌👍

flickthebinna: ok but can he fight

Jeongguk finds himself smiling again, but this time it’s a little sad too. It was posted just a couple of months ago. Reminds him that regardless of how drawn out it feels like it’s been, in reality, you haven’t actually been away from him for that long at all. Makes him recall how quickly something good can go bad.

“Alrighty!”

The cellphone gets plucked from his hands by Taehyung, who’s sensed the change in ambiance. “I think that is enough checking in for tonight,” he says.

Jeongguk doesn’t put up much of a fight, instead sighing and looking towards Namjoon’s place again. He’s not sure how much time has passed, but inside he sees it’s been long enough for the group to wind down. Almost everyone gathered in the living room, something playing on the tv. Probably one of the many Christmas movies that get played far too soon after Turkey Day. Hoseok’s got Nari on his lap, and one of the twins tucked into his other side.

“I’m surprised Nari’s still awake,” he muses.

“You know she’s fighting it, trying to hang with the big kids.”

“Gonna be very grouchy in the morning,” Jeongguk groans. The annoyance is feigned though, and the smile in his voice gives him away.

Taehyung laughs lightly for a moment before he’s yawning, his words jumbled and rolled together he tries to get out, “I’ll pull your Secret Santa name; let me take her for the night.”

Jeongguk is an expert at understanding hard-to-decipher words, so he knows what was said and is quick to say no.

“C’mon,” Taehyung presses, “Just for tonight. She’ll be fine, and you could use some time by yourself.”

“I have time by myself every other week.”

“Touche…”

It’s quiet for a couple of beats before Jeongguk is saying, “The answer is still no, but why do you think I could use some alone time?”

With shoulders brushing his ears, Taehyung shrugs. “You just worked through a lot of tough stuff. The alone time could be a good opportunity to sort through everything.”

Jeongguk hums.

“You could start thinking about what you’re going to do about ___. What the first step is, what you’re gonna say.”

Taehyung takes a second to look at Jeongguk’s profile. It’s quick, and the latter attempts to keep his face neutral, but the tense way the corners of his lips pull down isn’t missed. Jeongguk can’t mask the hesitant unease, and Taehyung has enough social awareness to pick up on it and know that it probably means that Jeongguk might not be ready for that just yet.

“Or… Or you could… cry yourself to sleep?” he tries. He thinks for a split second before he decides to run with it. “I know you’ve like– been crying, but if you were alone? You could really let go, you know? Wouldn’t have to hold back like you’ve been trying to.”

Taehyung is met with an expression that is not only unconvinced but also unamused.

He is nothing if not resilient, though. “Or you could even jerk off to that video you have of the both of you! You could moan, Gguk. Loud.”

“Oh– I don’t– the video um, I haven’t–” Jeongguk sputters, trying to deny the use of said video. His hands waving to and fro a bit, hectic. An uncomfortable tinge to his features.

It’s true, though. He doesn’t use it. Hasn’t even once since the fight. He figures he might as well delete the video. It makes sense, especially if he doesn’t watch it. Figures it should have already been deleted. That would have been the right thing to do. Figures he’s only human, too.

“I did not ask, and I do not want to know. Nor do I care,” Taehyung interrupts, “Just think about it, though. A loud, lewd, lascivious, lecherous jer–”

Almost like he forgets his momentary embarrassment, Jeongguk’s expression veers straight from uncomfortable to unbelievably judgemental. If the look on his face could speak, it would be telling Taehyung that he is stupid. “I can literally jerk off –loudly– 2 weeks out of the month. Are you daft?”

“Intelligence is subjective,” Taehyung’s bony fingers flick outward dismissively, “But my insistence is not! C’mon, don’t be selfish,” he pouts for emphasis, “If I take Nari tonight, I can use her to get the boys to sleep early. Can pull the old ‘baby’s bedtime is everyone’s bedtime’ card.”

Jeongguk presses his lips firmly together, fighting a smile, but they quirk up at the corners in spite of himself. “You’re a bad dad.”

Taehyung grins back, mischievous. He makes his voice stern and comically parental. “ ‘We all have to sleep when the baby sleeps. We don’t want to wake her up and ruin her dreams, do we?’ ”

They laugh softly together before it naturally dies off, the atmosphere back to being more or less mellow and light.

“I know you, Gguk,” Taehyung starts, “And I know that you don’t need a break. But I also know that a break wouldn’t hurt. Might even do you some good. Sneak away now while she’s occupied,” he encourages, “You know she’ll cry if you say bye.”

Jeongguk frowns as he feels himself giving in. Admitting that he is tired. Considering that it might be nice to be able to go home and head straight to bed without the time-consuming dad routine. He loves it, of course, and he’ll miss doing it– but after the night he’s had? He feels a little bad but tries to soften the guilt by thinking about what Taehyung said. The thing about him being important to himself, too.

He looks back to the house again, eyes scanning till they land on his baby. She’s slumped, clearly tired and he thinks she may be asleep already but then Nari yawns, a tiny balled-up fist coming up to rub at her eye.

Jeongguk smiles, soft and wistful. Before his brows are furrowing and he’s turning back to his friend with an appalled, accusatory glare. Taehyung’s previous heartfelt advice coming to mind reminds him of something else his friend said. Something less heartfelt.

“Wait– the video? How did you–?”

~~~

The feel of his bedding brushing against his skin makes him shiver. Causes frissons– excited little chills blooming all across his body. He kicks, trying to maneuver the sheet down and down until it’s off of him. Repeats the actions once more but with his briefs, now. Down and down until they’re off of him and he’s bare.

Jeongguk’s home is quiet. A little cold.

This time, it’s the brisk, air-conditioned draft in his bedroom that creates those chills. The bumps are small, just barely raised. Could only be seen by someone who looked at him closely enough; felt by someone who touched him aptly enough.

His exhales are stuttered and sharp as his body trembles; the constant tremor is faint, almost imperceptible, and caused by the lust simmering just under his skin. His lashes kiss the highs of his cheeks as he blinks his eyes shut; a worthless attempt at grounding himself. His lips grow damp as the pink of his tongue darts over them quickly; something he naturally does when he gets worked up like this.

His thoughts are running rampant as he thinks about all the unintentional things he’s doing, all of the visceral reactions he’s having. About those bumps on his skin.

Jeongguk thinks about how the restless waver of his breathing and the overwhelmed fluttering of his lashes and the antsy way he’s licking over his lips and the minute, barely-there texturing of his skin– how all of those things are just little ways that what’s inside of him is coming out; how it’s becoming.

It shows how intense and how keen the arousal stirring within him truly is. So charged and carnal that it’s emerging as actions that are eager and visible; as reactions that are hot and tangible. So real it can be seen; touched.

Going straight home and straight to bed– that was Jeongguk’s intention. He swears it; swears he was just so tired. Swears that he almost bypassed doing his skincare and brushing his teeth completely in favor of succumbing to tiredness. Swears was so truly drained from the night and from how much he ended up missing you, thinking about you. And from how, at some point during the night, missing and thinking meshed until they blurred into exhaustion.

Sleep was supposed to have been instantaneous. As soon as he laid down in his too-big, too-empty bed inside of his quiet, cold home– he was supposed to have been down for the count.

But his home is as lonely as it is quiet.

And lonely people do lonely things.

They think lonely thoughts that are actually just memories of times when they weren’t lonely at all.

Jeongguk doesn’t think he ever felt lonely with you.

And he wants you as much as he misses you.

His fingers shake with it as he finally wraps a hand around himself. Cock laying flat on his tummy, heavy and hot. It’s dark in his room, but he’s flushed probably. Leaking definitely.

The tip of his tongue swipes over his lips again before he nibbles on the inside, contemplative as he rubs his index finger on the wet head, teasing. Pulls the plump of his bottom lip between his teeth completely; makes a conscious effort to stay aware enough to not gnaw them raw. But in the back of his head, he knows it’s for naught. When he wakes up tomorrow it will be with red bitten lips and a guilty conscience.

Hell, Jeongguk’s guilty now.

Everything about him depicts it.

His mannerisms are already cloaked in shame and it’s only just started.

From the way he turns his face into his shoulder when he finally completes that first, full stroke. Foreskin dragging when his hand goes from tip to base. The soft thump of the outside of his fist hitting his lower belly sounds so loud– vulgar in the hushed space.

To the way he squeezes his eyes shut so tightly that small white spots begin to come and go in the dark– as if he thinks he might be able to block out all of the sordid things he’s imagining if he tries hard enough.

Twisting on the upstroke has him rolling his lips between his teeth before he ends up parting his mouth and voicing the softest, most sweet-sounding sighs. The lilting breaths are pretty and whiny even to Jeongguk’s own ears and he feels himself grow warm with a flush.

When the tip of his cock spits out a few heavy drops of precum so soon, he gets almost flustered. His demure, wanton sighs quickly shift to meek, bashful whimpers.

Because it’s embarrassing. Just how fast the mere thought of you gets him going; so hot and so bothered.

The pace of his palm is fast, pumping up and down the length of his cock. Instinctually chasing that high as slick clicking noises get louder, audibly mixing with his moans, the rustling of his movements. The first hint of that telltale heat flickers in his lower belly faster than he expects and faster than he hopes.

He doesn’t want it to end already. Reasons that if he’s going to give in to this again –into getting off with nothing but the thought of you to finish him, into stomaching the consequential regret that comes after he cums– he wants it to at least be worth it. Wants to milk it and make the pleasure last as long as possible.

So he clings to his last bit of self-indulgent resolve. Takes his hand off and moves it away.

Precum’s just pouring from the slit when his cock snaps back to his tensed belly; leaking enough that the pink head makes a lewd slap when it hits his skin. He’s hard enough that the tip rests just below his belly button.

Jeongguk lays still for a few, letting the needy ache in his gut settle as he puffs out soft pants. Trails his nails lazily over his skin; a gesture that taunts him as much as it gets him ready. Warming him up for his own touch again.

He’s sifting through his memories of you when he gives in and allows himself just a few small squeezes over his length. His grip tight and pulsing. Not quite edging, but… playing. Indulging maybe; sating moreso.

Trying to take the edge off just enough to prolong the pleasure and drag it out as he thinks back to the time he got you off with just his hand in your panties, his fingers toying with your clit.

It was sleepy and slow, soft in the way that morning playtime always was with you. Him returning the favor; taking care of you after you took care of him.

Started with him quietly reminding you of how good you made him feel the night before. Him sweetly kissing praise into your still-warm-with-sleep skin. Finished with you rocking into his touch until you came quietly for him. You remembering to thank him after, your words whispered sweetly in an airy, far-away tone.

Jeongguk begins to stroke gently then. Just lightly touching with only his fingertips as he thinks some more. Until he ends up lingering on the first time he had you.

The memory prompts another shame-riddled rush to surge through him. He recalls how he braced himself on the newly-decorated wall behind him when you pressed your hand against him, his hips rutting and grinding into your small palm. How the wall supported him while he finished so quickly, too quickly. How it held him up while he came, making such a mess in his pants.

Recalls how you had to brace yourself on the same wall when he got down on his knees for you and tasted your cunt for the first of many times, his lips sucking and his tongue licking. How the wall supported you, just like it did him, while you squirmed so impatiently, so greedily. How it held you up while you came, just like it did him, making such a mess of him all over again

The paint on the wall behind you had barely had enough time to dry. Was wet still on the opposite side of the room.

The opposite side of his daughter’s room.

God, it’s sick. So perverse and deviant and just wrong, but there’s something to say about how badly he must have wanted you. How terribly he must have needed you to take you like that, in that setting.

Then Jeongguk’s letting go. Letting his thick, engorged length drop to his abdomen.

The heavy way his cock flops back down when he eases the tension in his hold– it doesn’t really hurt… it’s not exactly painful when it thumps against his tensed tummy again. It feels more like a muted, dull pang in his cock. Almost pleasant? It feels good if anything– but the general sensation reminds him of a time he ached. A time when his cock actually did hurt.

It’s the time he had you at his work, against his desk. After you had him in his office chair.

Jeongguk can’t stop his cock from kicking and twitching when shivers run down his body– it’s a natural reaction, mostly. Kind of like how his hands going up to tweak his nipples is mostly a natural reaction, too.

You had asked him before– if there had ever been a time when he was too worked up, if he’d ever felt so good that it became too good, if you could be the one to make him that way. It was an offhand, spur-of-the-moment comment; he figured it was just dirty talk. Nothing more than racy words spoken to turn an already heated phone call into one that was even hotter.

So he went along with it and told you that no, he hadn’t ever been too worked up or felt too good. Humored you and promised that yes, the first one to ever make him feel so good that it was too good, too much, could be you.

Then the phone call ended, and he hung up, and he pretty much forgot about it

Until now, that is.

Something’s got him stuck on that conversation and something’s got him linking it back to that time in his office.

He wonders if maybe that wasn’t just you ‘getting back at him’ for the work party because you were ‘mad at him’. Wonders if making him ask permission, getting him to beg, riding him till he came, not stopping even after he did… was really you trying to live out the phone call.

Was that the first time he felt so good that it was too much? That it hurt?

But as soon as he entertains the possibility, he has second thoughts. Reconsiders and thinks about how that might have been nothing. Yeah it was too much, and it hurt, but he has no clue what you meant by wanting to ‘take care of him’ or ‘have your way with him’. That time in his office could have just been the beginning, just you going easy on him, barely anything.

A soft moan he can’t hold back colors the air.

What would have happened if he hadn’t been able to break those cuffs and get the upper hand back?

Would you have kept going? Was that your intention all along? Did he ruin your plan when he got his hand around your neck? What would it have felt like if you had just kept going and going and–

Jeongguk must have subconsciously moved his hand from toying with his nipples back to stroking his cock because he doesn’t remember choosing to do so. But he doesn’t correct himself and he doesn’t stop either because he’s jerking his cock fast– just as fast as his heart is pounding and it feels so nice. So fucking nice that he thinks it’s gonna make him cum.

And he wants to cum, but he knows he wants it to last more.

So he tries to keep himself together with a tight squeeze at the base of his cock before he pulls his hand away. His cock throbs, jumps slightly before pulling tight to his belly.

He’s worked up so he’s squirming a little and taking deep breaths that come out a little shaky. His hands are shaky too when he brings them above his head to tug at the pillow underneath him just to keep them off of his body.

Would it have just kept hurting? If you had kept going? Would it have just kept getting worse until it became too much? Or would it have started to feel good again? Even better maybe?

Jeongguk’s fingers dig into the down of the pillow, and he turns his head into his arm trying to muffle his whine. His hips pull down, dipping into the mattress before slowly rolling into the air, into nothing. The breaths he pants against his bicep are hot, and when he sinks his teeth into the meat of it he does it hard enough for it to hurt just a hint.

Because fuck– he doesn’t think he’s ever been this affected.

Sure he’s been horny, worked up, turned on. Whatever.

But bucking into nothing? Whining like he’s in heat? Trembling and leaking and entertaining things that had never even crossed his mind before?

No, he’s never lost himself in lust enough for that to happen.

It seems there’s a first time for everything, however.

And maybe that’s what it is. Having a first with you. Trying something new for the first time, learning new ways to please, and make each other feel good. You being his only experience, and him being yours. Knowing each other in ways that nobody else does.

There’s a newfound urgency to the way he makes a move for his cock again. A flawed clumsiness to the way his fingers stumble when they get caught on his sticky skin due to his haste. An almost inexperienced awkwardness to the way he fumbles when can’t seem to get a good grip on himself due to his eagerness.

Because the way his heart starts pounding faster in his chest, and the way he has to grip at the base of his cock and keep himself in check again is so telling and oh, he’s so sure that’s what’s got him like this. Sweaty and wanton, antsy in his too-big, empty bed with one hand pumping his dribbling cock, and the other reaching between his legs to palm at his balls, his fingers reaching down farther to press and rub against his taint.

Yeah, he was worked up before; his memories of you enough to get him hard and panting. But they weren’t enough to shake that guilt.

When he started to wonder, though? When he got curious enough to flirt with the idea of you being the first one to make him feel so good, that it was too good, till it was too much? When he began to fantasize about it? That’s when he got shameless.

As soon as he cums, so will the guilt. That’s a given and he’s well aware. But right now, the want is making him feel almost feverish, depraved and he’s touching himself with hands that are so greedy, so self-serving. Unblushingly selfish for his pleasure as he imagines it’s you touching him.

“Ah– nngghhh, fuck–” he gasps, but it’s soft. His voice breathy and faint.

In his head, you’re being a little mean. Your hand on his cock is loose, teasing, and lazy. Giving him just enough to feel like he needs to cum, but not enough to make him cum.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, “you can use me, make yourself cum…”

It sounds sweet because it’s you, but even that is laced with something snide. It’s almost mocking. And his head is spinning because it mirrors so many of the times he’s had you, but it’s so different because right now, in his head, you’re the one that’s deciding, controlling. Telling him when its okay to cum, how to cum, letting him cum.

His fist is loose, just like yours is in his head, and he fucks up into it, his foreskin dragging with every push and pull. The fingers of his other hand are still toying with his hole, grazing the cinched muscle every time his hips rock into his hand, but he’s trying to mimic the way he thinks you would play with him; his touch deliberately gentle, a little curious.

When he’s just rocking his hips, the rhythmic brushing over his taint and his hole is teasing. But when he starts to get eager and needy and begins fucking his hand faster, the sensation is almost constant– feels so good paired with his thrusts, his thoughts.

And Jeongguk’s gonna fucking cum. So close after all the teasing and edging and playing with himself that he’s done– its inevitable, now. His balls pulled tight and his cock rock hard in his hand. Wet and drippy and swollen and so sensitive.

His body is so tense that he’s shaking, his sweaty chest flushed and heaving stuttery inhales as he works for it.

“Oh my god– please–” Jeongguk pleads softly with himself, his body. You. His voice is laced with a desperation he’s never heard before.

The burst of precum that shoots from the head is enough to know that he’s there, that he couldn’t stop it now, even if he wanted to. He feels that pull in his lower belly, and his cock fattens up even more, gets even harder and Jeongguk knows its flushed such an angry shade of pink. And fuck it’s such a steady build-up. When he thinks it feels good it just gets better.

“Yes, yeah–” he pants.

Jeongguk’s mouth parts in a small ‘o’, and his brows knit together and his eyes are squeezed shut so tight and if he concentrates he can picture you– can visualize your tiny hand wrapped around him bringing him closer and closer. Can imagine how focused you are as you go between looking at his face and his cock. Can almost hear your voice in his ear when you tell him that he was so good, that he can cum.

He’s able to get out a choked, “Cumming, I’m cumming–” before finishes. His body convulses, curling in on himself a little more each time his cock jerks, shooting hot, thick stripes of white up his abs. His orgasm gives him that spacey high, makes him almost lightheaded from how satisfying it is.

But lately, getting off is nothing if not a routine.

Jeongguk feels a very specific and familiar type of heaviness as he pats around to find his briefs, does a half-assed job of cleaning himself up with them. Then he moves to the other side of his bed where the sheets are cooler and not damp with sweat. Cuts the routine short with a dry-swallowed sleeping pill.

~~~

hey... long time no see... am i right... anyway yeah im probably knocked out w a sleeping pill too right about neow bc i am sooo scared about posting this :)) gah v nervewracking i must say... ik it was a bit wordy but i just rly wanted to explain why jk did what he did n his thought process for it n yeah </3 hoping to have part 2 (oc pov/reconciliation <3) out in the next couple weeks, am like halfway done w it.... anyway i rly hope u liked it!! pls pls pls like, reblog, comment, send an ask if u did~~ eager to know what u guys thought n would love to hear from u okayyy bye!

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