PROVE IT | lemonaches

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/22051954.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: F/M, Multi
Fandom: | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Relationship: Bangtan Boys Ensemble/Reader, Kim Seokjin | Jin/Reader, Min Yoongi
| Suga/Reader, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Reader, Kim Namjoon |
RM/Reader, Park Jimin (BTS)/Reader, Kim Taehyung | V/Reader, Jeon
Jungkook/Reader, Bangtan Boys Ensemble/You
Character: Jeon Jungkook, Kim Taehyung | V, Kim Seokjin | Jin, Jung Hoseok | J-
Hope, Min Yoongi | Suga, Park Jimin (BTS), Kim Namjoon | RM, Im
Jaebum | JB
Additional Tags: Past Relationship(s), Angst and Feels, Reunions, Alternate Universe -
Medical, Moving On, Getting Back Together, Sexual Tension, Jealousy,
Domestic Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Flashbacks, Romance, Dirty
Talk, Cock Warming, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunk Sex, Oral Sex,
Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Sleepy Cuddles,
One Night Stands, Dom/sub Undertones, Exhibitionism, Masturbation,
Orgasm Delay/Denial, Booty Calls, Light Bondage, Fuckbuddies, 69
(Sex Position), Rough Sex, Anal Sex, Sex Toys, Double Penetration,
Threesome - F/M/M, Group Sex, Blindfolds, Sloppy Seconds, Creampie,
Unrequited Love
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2019-12-31 Completed: 2020-08-25 Chapters: 17/17 Words:
166947

PROVE IT | lemonaches
by xxHERxx

Summary

No one likes endings. But sometimes, it’s what everyone needs the most in order to begin
again.
When everything’s over and done but the circumstances just won’t let you live in peace,
how do you breathe in the same air with your ex—or exes—again?
Continuous shit things happen. And all you’re left to do is prove them that you’ve happily
moved on.
“Easy peasy lemon squeezy!” you chant, taking on the challenge. How hard can that be,
right?!

Notes

⌦ A/N: This fic is still one heck of a roller coaster ride, but in a different way than the
previous one. Also, I dedicate this sequel to those faithful readers who—despite the
twists&turns I tossed you with—continuously trusted in me. Sorry for breaking hearts last
Christmas, let me patch it tortuously slowly this New Year’s Eve.
 teaser

✁-----------------------------------

⇢ Interlogue: “For heaven’s sake, darling!” Bom huffs, “Can you please start dating someone
new?”

“And please do start immediately!” Gauel adds bossily.

Nothing much has changed, except for the fact that you’ve all been busier and busier. But once in a
while, these two still make sure to check up on you the moment they’re free—even though most
times it’s all just video chats they could offer—just like this one you’re currently in.

There it is again, the never-ending topic of finding yourself a man.

“I told you!” a roll of eyes inevitable as you debate, “I don’t need—!”

“Woman, we know you better than anyone else!” they grumble in sync.

“You’re overreacting,” you utter, pouring milk on your morning cereal in the middle of the night as
you define fucked up body clock.

The two red angry faces in your phone’s screen glare sharper.

“Tell me honestly,” Gaeul starts, her tone bringing about every tension in your body for a brief
moment. “Have you really moved on?”

A lifeless sigh escapes you. “We’ve talked about this a million times and as far as I remember, I
had the same exact answers and it’ll remain like that a million times more.”

Their brows cock in suspicion but you nonchalantly brush it off with another firm statement, “I’m
too busy for a relationship, okay?”

But Gaeul doesn’t agree one bit. “No, maybe subconsciously you just never really got over your
Bangtan boys.”

“Gaeul!” Bom scolds, as if those three syllables are some kind of forbidden words.

Bangtan boys, you repeat it in your head and realize . . . No, those words aren’t that big of a deal
anymore. It just tends to trigger memories within you; like the day you took a deep breath and let
those seven men go.

It was the day you felt free, unloaded of burdens and worries that have been keeping you up all
night for a long time.
Relief. It’s one of the things that circulated in your system that damned moment because at last, you
managed to do what you’ve always thought of doing . . . to let go.

“What? So I said it,” the other argues, with a shrug, cutting you off from your trance, “She needs to
get a life, Bom. We both know that.”

“Uhm, excuse me? Hate to break it to you guys, but I am obviously alive!” your hands flailing in
the air, partially annoyed.

“Yeah, alive but dead inside!” Bom hisses light-heartedly, resulting for you to make face.
“Sweetie, you know I love you. But I have to go with Gaeul with this one. I . . .” she trails off, a
little doubtful if she should say it, “I think you haven’t moved on?”

You gasp, feigning betrayal and your friends only groan at your dramatic reaction.

“Look, my job is the only thing that matters to me right now and I don’t care about a bunch of guys
any—”

“Ha! Can’t even mention those ‘guys’ without feeling things huh?” Gaeul teases and Bom laughs
at that.

You scowl at your phone’s camera, making sure it’ll be well delivered to them despite the distance.
“Oh please! Do I have to chant their names just to prove myself?”

“Maybe you should!” the two others cheekily suggest, earning a spiteful snort from you.

“Maybe,” you fake consideration before taunting, “But really, that’s all in the past now; four long
years have passed to be exact. Shame on me if I really haven’t moved on, right?”

Gaeul exclaims, “Exactly! Four freaking years! Yet you make us worry that you
need three freaking more in order to be finally okay, as if forgetting is a one year per person ratio!”

Your jaws drop wide at the sudden attack while Bom follows with another controversial yet
comical question, “So . . . just to be sure if you don’t have any lingering feelings of regret. Who
were the last men you loved?”

They’re mocking you; they always did because they never truly felt that you’ve moved forward.

“The question is so tempting to answer,” you scoff lightly, “But then I realized that I don’t need to
prove myself to anyone. So screw you both. I gotta be at the hospital by six. Talk to you soon!”

There are groans of disappointment but before they could scold you further, you end the video call
with a grin.

Stealing a quick glance at the clock, you stand up to wash your dishes before preparing to go to
work—again.

Namjoon. Seokjin. Yoongi. Hoseok. Jimin. Taehyung. Jungkook.

Those names enter and even hover inside your mind.

If only you’d be honest; sometimes, you can’t help but wonder if you’ve all really moved on.

Have they? Or better yet . . . Have you?

 PS: Tbh, this has been plotted long ago. I just realized that we need a newer arc for
everything I’ve planned for ‘you’.

To those who were frustrated with Thesis It’s ending, I honestly do understand. It’s
nothing personal. I only wanted to see how far I could go with
impact&plots&creativeness and how effective of a writer I am as a whole.

It was cool to see how reactive you all were. Hence, I’d like to call out those other
readers. I remember a specific one who commented that Thesis It is a ‘cop out’ and
that I ‘clearly never been in any real long term relationship at all’! (Let see who how
right you are, sweetie. This sequel is for you.)

Lastly, to those observant readers who knew how much of a sucker I am for
background stories and flashbacks . . . did you honestly think I’d end it with just that?
A 240k fic written for a year with nothing? Not even any convincing reason or
whatsoever? Probably . . . but let’s just raise the plots in a different level, shall we?

So, if you’re still up for the challenge to know what really happened and what will
happen, feel free to reblog or comment or just whatever. xoxo

Want to read or reread THESIS IT? Click here. (Unfortunately, it's now only available at my
tumblr. Don't worry, tumblr is definitely free!)
 limonene 2.0
Chapter Notes

⌦ A/N: This one goes out to the real MVPs out there, for the BTS OT7 fansclub who
doesn’t have a permanent bias and binge-read THESIS IT’s 200+K words & still
wants more.
Prepare your hearts for another roller coaster ride with seven ex-boyfriends whom you
owe a proper closure to begin with.

[F.U.C.K. or Facts-U-Can-Know — omg, here we go again with these chapter titles] LIMONENE
is a compound naturally found in all citrus fruits which boosts your metabolism, relieves heartburn
and reduces stress and anxiety.

Why Limonene 2.0? Because this fanfic is the consequence of you uttering ‘lemons’ to your seven
boyfriends years ago. Be sour&have fun!

Life is like an elevator. Sometimes, you have to stop and let people off.

That. That has been one of the few things you’ve kept in mind for the last four years.

And now, after your long US vacation visiting your mom, it still remains stuck in your mind as you
step out of the elevator itself, hands full of stuff as you head to your place.

You unpack your luggage before proceeding to a major clean up in your abandoned apartment.
Few hours go by, you see a certain something, the previous idea fading temporarily.

Even before you’ve decided to go on a month-long break, you’ve been very busy to the point where
your place looks like a complete trash and right now, you didn’t expect to catch sight of a little
music box at the bottom of your closet.

In an instant, your hands let go of every cleaning material you’re holding as you reach for it to
open—nostalgic.

Slowly, you wind it up, the memories flashing before you like fireworks as the melody fills your
silent room.

{BGM: I Need U Music Box—Smyang Piano}

You listen, absorbing the subtle music being played.

“It’s not even Christmas yet!” you squeaked, hands holding tightly on Yoongi’s
shoulders as you blindly trailed after him.

“Who cares about Christmas! Today is the most important event of the year—and all
the years to come!” Seokjin butted in, laughing.

Your boyfriends loved surprises, and so the blindfold had been the norm during
‘special’ occasions—just like the one you’re celebrating right now: your first
anniversary.

“Baby doll, don’t peek!” Taehyung warned with excitement as he opened the cafe’s
back door, making you giggle.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

A few more steps and then they stopped, leaving you standing in one spot—the same
exact spot you stood last year and they chuckled at that while you felt the breeze of
the cold wind blowing. Luckily, Jimin had wrapped a fuzzy scarf around your neck
earlier.

“At the count of three,” Hoseok informed you from afar, “You can take off the
blindfold after the countdown, okay, peaches?”

“Copy!” you replied, anticipating what it was they’re up to.

The boys chanted together, “One . . . Two . . . Three!”

On cue, you reached for your blindfold and slid it off your head. Instantly, your eyes
glimmered with surprise at the ecstatic scenery they prepared for you—the
backyard filled with cute fairy lights, lanterns, balloons and decorations.

All the flower pots they gave you last year—and even the silly tree Seokjin brought
—were highlighted with subtle lighting, making you appreciate how they grew more
beautifully while all seven of them were standing in the center of a mini platform,
hands busy with their individual musical instruments, well, except for the vocalist.

Jungkook began, moving closer to the microphone. “Baby girl,” he breathed, lips
curving in a smile, “We’re officially debuting next week.”

His announcement had your jaws dropping, a big smile plastering in your lips at how
 happy and proud you were for them to debut as an official instrumental band in their
entertainment agency.

“But before the whole world could listen to our song . . . we wanna perform it for
the only woman we’ll ever love.”

“Aww!” You couldn’t help but pout, appreciative of their sweet efforts.

Dimples flashing, Namjoon added, “This song is written for you, inspired by you and
made to remind you that we—indeed—need you, sleepyhead. Loveyou!”

Afterwards, all seven of them signaled different gestures of ‘iloveyou’—finger hearts,

hand hearts, body hearts, all kinds of other cheesy hearts before Hoseok clinked his
drumsticks together, hinting to start the song.

That night, you watched those soon-to-be-famous men play music with their hearts
out; all of them smiling and singing and mouthing messages of love to you.

When the song ended, you immediately ran to them for a big group hug but before you
could pull away, your chaos reached you a small box.

“A live performance for free and now this?” you stressed out, surprised as you took it.
“Tae, everyone, isn’t this already too—?”

“There’s no too much when it comes to us loving you, okay?” Seokjin interrupted,
immediately finishing the debate you’re about to start.

Arm swinging on your shoulder, Yoongi then chuckled, planting a kiss on your hair as
he cooed, “Open it, angel.”

The moment you did, a tiny music box greeted you and you couldn’t be any happier.

“Listen to it whenever we’re too busy and you start to miss us,” Jimin advised and
Hoseok followed, “You could also listen to it whenever med life seems too tough for
you. I promise you, it’d would relax you in no time.”

Winding the tiny music box, your heart felt full as you heard their first debut song
playing, serenading and reminding you that this song is for you—their one and only
girl.

While they started humming along the soft melody, you stared back at them, eyes
filled with gratefulness and joy. “I love you guys!” you promised, reaching out to give
each of them a kiss on the cheek before presenting your own token of love.

The night ended with a fun barbeque night dinner with beer and stories and a lot of
cuddles as you star-gazed.

“To more years with you,” you said, and all of them echoed back with sincerity.

To more years with you.

For a brief moment, you recall all the happy times you had with them; the dates, the sleepovers,
even the doing nothing and just being together moments.

It’s no lie, the two years you had with them were the best two years of your life.
But it all went down the drain and suddenly, you couldn’t help but remember the heartbreaking
night you said . . .

“Lemons.”

The word had them stopping and afterwards, you were turning the doorknob on your
way out when you heard Yoongi’s icy words.

“I thought you loved us?” he brazenly questioned, your whole body freezing in place.

It was as if he’s waiting for you to take back your word and tell them you’re sorry and
that you do love them. That you never really meant to hurt them with what you’re
doing right now.

A part of you wanted to . . . but you knew you had to walk away.

When you didn’t say any words and insisted to open the door instead, his soft mutters
seemed louder and clearer.

“I guess we were wrong.”

You wept, because it wasn’t an easy decision to give up; your mind had been at war
with your heart ever since but deep inside you knew, you were fighting a losing battle.

Discreetly wiping off your tears, you bit back a cry, heart breaking into piece knowing
that leaving was the best option.

So despite their pleas, you brazenly grabbed the opportunity to exit and step out of
their lives.

An unexpected lone tear falls on your cheek, snapping you out of the melancholic memory.

You yeet it dry, laughing at your idiotic self for still shedding a tear over something that’s been
over for years. You swear, you’ve gotten over it; you hold this very room as your witness.

Sometimes, people can be a part of someone’s growth, but not be part of their future.

Walking out from them was one of the most courageous decisions you’ve ever made and maybe if
you didn’t, you wouldn’t be what you are right now—a doctor.

Being a doctor means having your life in a hectic schedule forever and for you to attain that goal,
you let go of the illusions of what you thought could happen and live in what is happening.

“You were bound to lose people but it’s for the best,” you trail off, comforting yourself as you put
the music box aside, “—because in losing them, you gain yourself.”

History is all that’s left.

But what’s odd is that even if you knew the relationship would end like that, even if you knew you
wouldn’t walk away as friends . . . you’d still do it again.

Given the chance, you’d still transfer to their university and meet them and live with them and do
the chaotic thesis together which eventually led to you falling for all seven of them—all at once.
You had no regrets.

The next day . . .

The only regret you have is buying coffee for Jaebum as advanced apology for declining to attend
his birthday party and forgetting that you have an early meeting at the hospital today.

“Where are you? Hurry up!” your ophthalmologist friend rattles you through the phone call.
“They’re already looking for you!”

You groan inwardly, running to the lobby as you grasp your coffee tightly while talking to him at
the same time, “Stop rushing me when it’s your fault in the first place, gramps!”

He’s flinging back with nonsense when you just cheekily cut the call off.

Jaebum has been a friend since your last year in pre-med college and now he’s turned into your
closest friend and colleague in the hospital you work at. Despite him being an eye doctor and you
being an emergency doctor, you still come across each other through meetings, hospital-wide
assemblies and conferences—like the one you’re running late for right now.

You can feel your breathing stagger as you sprint but then you hear something, your pace slowing
down the hall, your heart beating faster than usual as you listen more intently to a familiar voice
singing, ‘Hello, it’s been a while.”

You arrive; there’s the usual big crowd in the hospital lobby but one thing is off—someone’s in the
center stage.

For a brief second, your eyes are suddenly fixed to the man on the platform in front of everyone;
his eyes closed as he puts the crowd in a sad trance using his beautiful voice.

{BGM: Ending Scene—Jungkook cover}

Every melody tugs at your heart and then . . . The memories of how you left them haunt you every
time he words out the heartbreaking lyrics.

‘Don’t say those words, please. You know those words hurt more. You said you love me, but what
now?’ Jungkook, in a decent white uniform, sings—so heartfelt that his voice resonates inside you
as if he’s actually talking to you.

And now you can’t take your eyes off him, disbelieving that he’s right before you at the moment.

When Jungkook opens his eyes, your gazes unintentionally meet and yet he keeps singing like your
presence doesn’t affect him.

“Ex alert,” a soft whisper startles you and you find Jaebum with his shit-eating grin and eye-smile
flashing at you.

Rolling your eyes at him, you reach him his coffee saltily, making face. “Shut up before I kick
your ass,” you threaten and his smile gets even bigger.

Looking back, you started being friends when you temporarily stayed at the same building where
GOT7 also lived in. And with the tension that sparked between them and Bangtan at a certain
basketball game, Jaebum had figured things out—you were probably someone’s girlfriend.

Years later and you met him again at the hospital, resulting for you to casually hang out and him
finding out that you’re not just someone’s girlfriend but instead, you surprisingly dated all seven of
them way back.

Im Jaebum wasn’t an asshole. He didn’t judge you or thought of you as something disgusting or
whatsoever. All he did was laugh and tease you about it as he kept your secret as if it’s his as well.

“Why’s he even here?” you ask him—who’s been there way earlier than you.

With a shrug, Jaebum reveals, “I’m not sure? The head coordinator got excited knowing that
there’s another famous vocalist present at the hospital . . . so as always, she asked her to sing for a
quick intermission.”

Jaebum has been a victim of that newbie tradition too and you could only sigh. But then your friend
comes up with another idea that has your mouth stiffening.

“Maybe he’s here for an internship?”

“What!” Your eyes widen at the thought.

“Kidding!” Jaebum takes back. “I told you, I don’t know. And hey, what’s so surprising about that
anyway when we all studied medical courses?”

Again, you sigh. He’s right. You just can’t help but feel agitated knowing that you’re probably
gonna come across Jungkook once or twice with this kind of situation. But with how big the
hospital is, your hopes are high that you won’t.

“Are you excited?” he teases, brows wagging at you repeatedly.

You groan, shooting him your death glares. “As if!” you hurl back, pinching his side and he yelps.

FEW HOURS AFTER . . .

Hands on your pockets, you exhale, bargaining and pacifying the situation, “I’m trying my best to
be polite but if you move that knife closer to anyone here, sir .. . I will tear you apart.”

Accompanied by a few thugs, a madman who keeps insisting that his stabbed friend is still alive
and blames the nurse for worsening his friend’s condition, points a knife to every staff he sees
inside the emergency room which has caused a major stirrup.

Oh, the many things that happen inside a hospital include these kinds of dramas from time to time
that you’re already immune to it.

But when the man grabs the innocent nurse, everyone is alarmed and that’s when it starts to get on
your nerves.

Heaving an exhale, you slide off the stethoscope hanging around your neck, gently placing it above
a table before tying your hair up nonchalantly—like your usual routine at the gym.

Forget about the guards, you say to yourself afterwards as you fearlessly walk towards him,
thanking that you’ve worn your comfiest jogging pants and red sneakers under your white coat to
work today. “Why blame the nurse when I’m the doctor? Can’t you pull yourself together and
think properly?”

“You bitch!” he curses, throwing the nurse away and charging at you instead; the scene terrifying
the witnesses further.
A knife set to stab you in the gut flies into the air when you dodge and kick his hand with rigor.

Afterwards, you grab his hands and twist it to his back, before throwing him to the ground as well.
The other thugs scowl at you and you cockily greet them with your forefinger, gesturing them to
come get you.

And they do, targeting you like bulls but you stay grounded, focused and alert as you kick them
one by one, not letting a single person touch you.

A few men down, when you feel a hand tapping your shoulder behind and you instinctively defend
yourself by hitting his gut with your elbow and grabbing him to join the others on the floor.

His back meets the hard ground and he groans. That’s when you realize that you mistakenly threw
Jungkook who happens to be helping you out without your knowledge.

You wince, mouthing him a genuine apology when the security guards arrive, taking on the
madman and the thugs.

You’re rubbing off some dirt from your white coat when your phone rings, and you take your gaze
off your ex-boyfriend to answer.

Jaebum, on the other line, raises, “Ya, the hospital prompted a code violet at the ER. Don’t tell me
you’re—”

“Yep, I took care of it already.”

Your friend could only chuckle. “You dangerous thing. You should’ve spared their hipbone this
time,” he says light-heartedly before ending the call, “See you later!”

Re-fixing your ponytail, you’re about to head out when Jungkook grabs you by the wrist.

His eyes burn with anger as he scolds, “Don’t this fucking hospital have security guards?! Why’d
you have to go on around kicking insane people carrying fucking knives?! Are you stupid?!”

Indeed, you’re startled but you snap back at him immediately. “Excuse me?!” you roar, brushing
off his hand from yours. “Did you just cuss and raise your voice at your senior?!”

Jungkook’s eyes pierce right through you as he continues with his argument, “Senior or not, you’re
still a girl!”

The room is silent, most eyes are on the both of you that you’re embarrassed by his outburst. You
apologize to the people around and push Jungkook somewhere in the corner to talk more privately.

“What’s your problem?” you say through gritted teeth.

“You’re my problem!” he retorts, nose flaring at you. “You could’ve gotten stabbed, you careless
woman!”

He’s driving you insane with the petty worrying that you huff and glare at him. “Look, I’m not the
same girl years ago who couldn’t perfect a measly flying kick!” you impulsively reveal, all those
martial arts classes you took flashing right before your eyes: taekwondo, muay thai, jiu-jitsu and
even your continuous yin yoga.

But your statement only triggers Jungkook more. “Oh yeah?! Who’d you learn it from?!”

You’re absolutely taken aback by his tone. If you’re not mistaken, it’s the same familiar tone he
acquires whenever he’s jealous.

Suddenly, you stutter, “I-it’s, uhm. None of your business, kid.”

You want to leave but Jungkook doesn’t seem to be contented with the flow of conversation. He
grabs your arm again, turning you back to him.

But that’s when the head intern coordinator interrupts, “Oh! I guess you met your intern buddy for
the whole semester, doc!”

A semester?! Your face hardens at the revelation as you both exchange shocked glances.

“Intern Jeon, that doctor you’re grabbing is one of our finest doctors in this hospital. Please show
some respect,” the coordinator states, making Jungkook loosen his grip on you while you’re still
standing there like a deer caught in the headlights.

Since when did Jeon Jungkook got interested in Medicine?!

The next day . . .

A hot chocolate drink sits on your table early in the morning; Jeon Jungkook gnawing at his lips as
he stares at you shyly.

“I just want to apologize for what happened yesterday. I’m just a mere intern and you’re a senior. I
should’ve—”

“You should’ve known better,” you fill in the blanks for him, sighing deeply afterwards. “Mr.
Jeon, please be mindful of your actions next time. And I hope it doesn’t happen again—ever,” you
stress out, turning your back against him when he suddenly coughs.

“W-what about the hot chocolate?” he queries, reaching you the forgotten cup and hoping that your
favorite drink could alleviate the tension between you, “Aren’t you gonna—?”

You give him a quick glance, softly pulling your lips in a weak smile. “Thanks . . . but
I don’t drink hot chocolate anymore,” you clarify, hinting that you’re not the same girl he used to
know.

Low-key disappointed, his eyes drift to the floor.

“You can have it. Think of it as a good luck drink for your whole internship stay here,” you utter
calmly before leaving him.

A/N:

HOW ARE YOU, GUYS! What’s up? How you feel?! I’m sorry-not-sorry for cutting Thesis It
with an abrupt ending, but that’s just how I always roll, pulling emotions from everyone and
manipulating feelings. I’m just happy you guys are giving this fic another chance and I like how
you’re all up for the challenge of another roller-coaster ride of finding out what happened and will
happen.
It won’t be that long, I swear. Just a few twist and turns and we’re good! ;) PLEASE DO FEEL
FREE TO TELL ME HOW HEARING JUNGKOOK SING ENDING SCENE FEELS LIKE.

i even saw an edit at google, look hahaha. If Big Hit is stalking me, we’ll probably get a doctor
Jungkook in the future, just like how our Taekwondo Jungkook got its limelight.

Also, BELATED HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO IM JAEBUM, who’ll probably have many more
mentions in this fic because he’s such a cute colleague for you.

✁-----------------------------------
[INTERLOGUE —a glimpse into the coming weeks]

WEEKS AFTER--future tense

It’s another day to stress out and complain about why you have to be in the same hospital—in the
same area even—as Jeon Jungkook.

You aren’t bitter in any form but you have to admit that working with a ex-lover—a secret ex-lover
to be precise—isn’t the most comfortable thing to happen to anyone but you fail to anticipate a
much more trouble coming ahead of you.

What better way to devastate you further with another difficult patient assigned to you in the ER?
Another over-exaggerating patient who’s obviously just mildly wounded yet loves adding to the
stress you already have since you’re mentoring Jungkook right that moment.

The ER has seen lots of patients like this. It’s a norm—people acting shit only to get their medical
certificates to present to their companies and get their Sick Leaves granted.

“Doc, I’m really injured,” the lady croaks, round eyes peering up at you as if asking for sympathy.

Eyes examining her, you look at the tiny wound she has on her elbow and hum, beginning to
professionally instruct Jungkook on how the basic first aid should be assigned to the nurses when
suddenly a familiar voice pops out from afar, both of you turning to where it’s from.

“Darling!”

Squealing with joy, your patient gets on her feet, hands wide as she asks for a hug to the person
who just arrived.

Kim Taehyung.

You face immediately turns blank when you see him wrap his arms around your patient. They hug
for a second or two before he pulls away just to kiss her on the forehead.

He appears in front of you, like the caring and loving boyfriend he always was—but to another girl
this time.

“Were you hurt?” he queries with his deep voice which you haven’t heard for a long time and you
could only stay still, asking yourself the same question.

Were you hurt?

You’re about to answer yourself when the girl nods, pouting like a fish before starting to rant about
how she misses Taehyung like crazy.

The display of affection isn’t too disturbing but the girl is just too annoying that even Jungkook
finds it hard to tolerate.

“Hyung,” he breaks the couple off and only then does Taehyung notice.

“Kookie!” The saxophonist beams brightly before jumping onto the maknae for a tight hug. “When
you mentioned that you’re an intern at this hospital, I immediately thought of it and recommended
it to my girlfriend. Thought I’d get to see you for a quick second and look! I really did.”

Silent, you just stand there, listening to their conversation and that’s when you catch Taehyung’s
attention.

“Oh, you’re here too?” he greets lowly with a subtle smile and you just shrug back in reply.

“Who is she, darling?” The girl drapes her arms over Taehyung’s waist as she eyes you.

Jungkook, Taehyung and you exchange quick glances before he coughs, “She’s a . . . uhm, a
schoolmate back in college.”

Schoolmate.

Fighting back the snort you initially would’ve responded with, you nod nonetheless, confirming his
statement.

To the rescue, a nurse arrives both to aid your patient and take over teaching your intern about
basic first aid, letting you be dismissed from the awkward reunion you have with them.

For a moment, you can’t believe the audacity he has to deny you. Well, you’re always the one who
insisted on hiding your relationship back then, but really? Taehyung settles with the word
‘schoolmate’ rather than a ‘friend’ or even a ‘thesismate’ of some sorts?

Is he THAT bitter? you think to yourself, partly annoyed and confused—your ego stepped on.

But then you’re reminded of how much of a playboy he was way back before he became your
boyfriend—treating women like disposable coffee cups. And there you were, the girl whom he
kept bugging and blackmailing.

You even recall the times you kept waiting for him to get sick of ‘playing’ with you but with the
span of those two years, he never did. Yes, Taehyung was one of the most persistent bugs you’ve
ever encountered.

But as you look at him from afar . . . you realize that he’s someone else’s love bug now.

{BGM: Jealous—Nina}

You’re left stealing a glance at the new girl who’s caught his eyes when you weren’t around.

She’s gorgeous, exactly the type of women Taehyung fancies. Apart from her irritating aegyo,
they’re a perfect match.

You’re NOT jealous, you mutter silently. It’s only fitting for him to find someone new. With
Taehyung’s good looks, he’d never settle in staying single after your break up and you always
knew that from the start.

It’s no big deal.

***

To be continued.
 vaccine
Chapter Notes

⌦ Warnings: medical terms, one-sided pining, jealousy, sexual tension

⌦ A/N: I know I said Prove It is CHOOSEDAY updates but, here’s an advanced

update because . . . it’s Happy THESIS IT anniversary! It’s been a year since I posted
the first chapter of this OT7 madness in ao3/aff and I hope you all enjoyed and are still
enjoying it.

[F.U.C.K.] VACCINE is a substance used to stimulate the production of antibodies and provide
immunity against one or several diseases.

Why Vaccine? Because you need to protect yourself from unnecessary feelings. You need to stay
strong and resolute, resisting Jungkook’s charm.

The next day, you find a cup of coffee on your desk. As soon as you look around, you see
Jungkook handing out coffee to other doctors too.

Checking the drink, you look at what’s written on the cup and snort, realizing that it’s far from the
coffee you usually drink. Putting the cup down, you grab your stethoscope instead, preparing to
check your census when he suddenly approaches you with a question, “I thought you preferred
coffee?”
“I do,” you answer nonchalantly, “But not just any random coffee, Mr. Jeon.”

He hisses softly at that.

“I do appreciate it though,” you coax, “But feel free to tick me off your doctors-to-bribe-with-
coffee list anytime.”

But perhaps you’ve forgotten that Jeon Jungkook never backs away from a challenge. Day after
day, during every shift you have in the hospital, he makes sure to leave a coffee on your desk—a
different type of coffee each day as he guesses whichever it is you drink.

Sadly, he continually fails; the coffee he leaves you turning cold, contrasting the well-appreciated
coffee he hands other doctors.

***

Buddying Jungkook inside the ER seems harmless. With how quick-paced and toxic the setting in
there is, you barely converse. In no time, his shift ends with the nurses teaching him instead while
you’re nowhere to be found due to the many codes you attend to.

But then again, in the long run, you know you can’t avoid him forever. Once a medicine student,
you’re aware that he should be trained as much as possible but you’re just not into the teaching
level at the moment, so you talk to your other colleagues, asking who’s available to mentor interns.

“Anyone wants to train an intern during floor rounds?” you query, catching the attention of all
other residents-on-duty.

Before you could ask again, someone interrupts.

“Are you by chance, pertaining to the charming intern, Jeon Jungkook?” Dr. X smirks, eyes
glittering with interest.

Well, her name isn’t really Dr. X but that’s what everybody calls her behind her back. Why?
Because nobody likes her—at all.

She’s this vain and flirty senior resident who loves younger—way way younger—men to play
with. And she doesn’t even care if what she does gets exposed inside the hospital; maybe because
her experience at the field and sovereignty compensate whatever stuff she does.

You hate it—how Jungkook has the same effects to his surroundings even after all these years;
people flocking to where he is, just like how your cafe was filled with fan-girls back then. Now,
even your co-doctors want a piece of him discreetly.

You promise you’re only looking after the kid, worrying that he might get in trouble if you let him
be mentored by a known pedophile. So immediately, you scrunch your nose and deny, “No, sadly,
not Jeon, doc. He’s gonna be sticking with me. I’m talking about the other interns.”

“Oh.” Dr. X frowns, disappointment. “Then no. Unless it’s that Jeon intern, I won’t be interested.”

She leaves and only then do you realize how burdensome it will be for you in the upcoming days.

***

Few days after, and you finally find the perfect person to get Jungkook off your responsibility. So
the moment you see him, you immediately inform, “Mr. Jeon, Dr. Sy will be the one to accompany
you during every rounds starting today.”

“W-what?” His eyes widen. “But the coordinator told me—”

“Well, unfortunately I’m a little too busy for interns. And I believe Dr. Sy will do a better job than
me.”

The beautiful Dr. Sy arrives just in time, greeting both you and Jungkook with her usual smile.
“Intern Jeon, I am very pleased to have you as my side-kick,” she teases.

And your senior—a one-year gap—winks at you, letting you off the hook. That’s when you know
he’s in good hands. Sy is a professional, excelling in stuff you need to improve at.

“See you during endorsement, Mr. Jeon!” you bid him a sarcastic goodbye as you proceed to your
clinic.

***

It’s a relief to have your personal space to your own; having interns following you around, asking
this and that always had you on the edge and uncomfortable. What more with Jungkook being one
of them?

Thanks to Dr. Sy, you’ve been working in the utmost comfort for the past days, coming across
your ex only during endorsements.

After having a two-day off, you now come back with a new difficult-patient-endorsement—which
is odd, because Dr. Sy is such a great doctor for this type of situation. She has been the most
relaxed and composed senior you ever had and you can’t imagine her having difficulty with a
patient—let alone a pediatric patient.

“Intern Jeon has been sent for a seminar,” she exhales, sensing that you’re looking for the student,
“Patient 933 is such a pain again!” Her eyes roll yet she smiles afterwards. “We didn’t have the
energy to administer her medicines. I hope you get along with her.”

Your head tilts slightly with how that oddly sounded like a warning but then again she
continuously discusses the endorsement before heading out.

Scanning the chart in your hands, you study it as you make way to your patient’s room,
strategizing how to give her booster vaccine as scheduled.

Upon entering, you’re instantly greeted with a frown. “You’re not my doctor,” the kid strongly
states, taking you aback. And before you could give out a word, she hisses, “I don’t like you!”

So this is how difficult she is. You blink repeatedly scratching an invisible itch on the back of your
neck. “Well, I’m actually your doctor too,” you say, introducing yourself as you come closer to see
that she’s busy coloring her book.

She gives you no response, obviously not interested with you.

“I need to give you—”

“No!” she cuts you off with a yell and you sigh, remembering that Patient 933, Sunny, is a six-
year-old brat—as endorsed. She’s a spoiled rich heir who regrettably has no parents and despite all
the money, no relatives visit her in the hospital because of her behavior.
Knowing you need a different approach, you fake a smile with crossed fingers, cocking your head
slightly as you allure her into something else, “What about a little story telling?” She looks like a
smart girl, maybe she likes those kind of stuff.

Her brows raise at you coldly. “About?”

So that gets into her. You hum, “About insects and—”

Out of the blue, her eyes sparkle. “The cooking competition? How’d you know?!”

And your mouth turns into a small ‘o’, startled that she knows it too. “You know it too?”

The little girl beams bigger, her aura changing all too suddenly. “Of course! I’m a very brave girl,
you know!”

Soon, she ends up telling you how she knew the story. “Dr. Rabbit!” she chirps.

“Dr. Rabbit?” Your brows furrow in confusion.

“He told me about the clumsy ant and the cooking show. How they poorly lived and how much
they needed all the ingredients to carry on.”

Suddenly, she turns enthusiastic, even narrating you—with enormous feeling that you find her
adorable—the story of how the ant bit her. Honestly, she’s loud—the loudest kid you’ve ever met.

But her loudness fades as your mind patches the puzzle one by one.

You’ve been staring at your medical supplies for a good one hour already when
suddenly the door squeaked open, Namjoon peeping in to see if you’re busy or not.

“Hi, doc!” he greeted, making you turn to where they were. They always loved calling
you that, prophesying.

Excited, you yelled, “Joon-ie!”, some entered your room; Jungkook nowhere to be
found.

It’s been a week since they left for a band event; they’ve been the busiest as expected
with rising celebrities, but so were you.

“What’s up, gorgeous?” your best friend asked.

With a sly look, you grinned, raising a syringe. “Injection!”

Hoseok instantly stepped back. “I’d love to help out, but I hate injections.”

Chuckling, you put down the item and went to him. “I know. Poor baby!” you cooed,
arms wrapping around your daydream’s waist as you rested your head on his chest.
“I’m still trying to figure things out. Our practical exams won’t be easy. I’ve heard
stories from other sections.”

“About what?” Jimin croaked, entering your room and giving you a quick kiss on the
cheek as a greeting.
“About bratty children they encounter. I need a backup plan.”

Trailing after Jimin, Taehyung grinned, diving on your bed with an idea. “Maybe you
should allure kids into some good storytelling, doll? Just so it wouldn’t be boring?”

“Yeah. I’ve been thinking of that too. Like, I should make them feel that injections
will make them stronger.”

With a hum, Hoseok countered, dragging you to bed to cuddle with Taehyung; both of
you bouncing on the mattress with mirth. “Well, no matter how interesting the story
is. If it’s painful, it won’t help.”

“But I think creative stories can help them anticipate the pain that comes with the
needle too?” you questioned.

Yoongi then joined the conversation, teasing your skills, “Angel, you should just
practice your injection techniques.”

No doubt, he didn’t trust you and you pouted; nevertheless, you reached for the
syringe again, puppy eyes shifting from one man to another as you looked for
someone to practice with.

Hoseok and Namjoon immediately stood up.

“Sorry peaches. It’s not that I’m a coward but we have to send our producer the final
track.” Again, Hoseok kissed your forehead before kissing his thumb only to press it
on your lips—like the good luck stamp kiss he always gave you. “I know you can do
it. You have Jimin, Tae, Yoongi and Seokjin here with you. Use their arms.” He
laughed, Namjoon giggling along before planting a kiss on your forehead too.

“Be back later, doc!” BTS leader said, leaving an interesting question before heading
to the other room, “If Chimchim was a seven-year-old scaredy-cat, how will you
inject him his meds? That’s the problem you need to solve, okay?”

With the ‘94 duo’s absence, you hummed for a brief moment before asking for Jimin’s
arm to use. In character, you smiled at him, introducing yourself as his doctor.

“Oh, what a very beautiful doctor!” he teased, making you blush.

“Hey, you little seven-year-old kid,” Seokjin butted in, jesting with a quick flick on
the younger’s forehead, “That’s my girlfriend you’re hitting on. Grow up first before
you flirt.”

The room was suddenly filled with laughter but you had to shut them up so you could
concentrate on a smart method for kids. Clicking your tongue, you started your made-
up story, “There’s this cooking show competition for insects. And this ant wants—
no, needs!—to join.”

“Why, doctor gorgeous?” Jimin inquired, voicing it out like a little excited kid that the
others had to hold in their laughter.

“Because they’re poor and his sister needs to get well,” you replied.

Taehyung then lied on his tummy, chin on both palms as he suggested, “Add more
drama to it, doll. It should be convincing.”
“Fine,” you huffed, restarting from the top as you reconstructed the plot. “This kind
little ant has a sick sister but they’re just so poor, he couldn’t bring her to the hospital
and so when he saw a poster for a cooking show with huge amount of ant-money, he
immediately joined despite the lack of idea about cooking.”

The four men smiled, engrossed by your little storytelling or perhaps they just missed
you so much that listening to your voice solaced them.

“Good thing he had his bee friend who taught him how to cook. But now, as the
competition started, the ant couldn’t help but feel nervous. And one big problem is
that this ant is . . . clumsy.”

“Sounds like he’s Namjoon-ant to me,” Seokjin humored, earning chuckles from
everyone.

“Only the brave can help the ant though.” Taking the task seriously, you now came to
question your pretend-patient, “Do you think you’re brave enough to help?”

Acting in character, Jimin nodded his head childishly, smiling big. “Yes, doctor! As
long as we’ll make babies afterwards.”

Clicking your tongue, you glared at him and he immediately shut up, grinning.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” you asked, and Jimin nodded again, making you
add more questions, “Even if it’s ouchy?”

“Anything for you, doctor,” he said with hearts in his eyes that Taehyung had to throw
him a pillow in the face to stop the violinist from flirting with you.

Grabbing his arm, you asked him to close his eyes, continuing the narration with your
fingers walking around his skin in accordance with your story. “The ant now prepares
ingredients . . . but when he’s getting salt, he tripped, resulting for the salt to scatter on
the floor. And so he picked,” you told, repeatedly pinching his skin as if picking an
invisible salt and Jimin yelped helplessly, “—and picked, and picked. . .”

Holding in your giggles, you kept pinching the same time you say ‘pick’, fingers
peppering tiny but stinging pinches as you reached the back of his hand. “And oh boy,
this next one is a big salt to pick. Brace yourself!”

Jimin nodded despite closed eyes while you’re already discreetly aiming the needle to
his vein.

A few seconds of held breaths, and you managed to pull off an intravenous injection;
the three others cheering for you but Jimin couldn’t help but wince. “Congratulations!
But I still felt your heavy hand, doc!” he honestly informed, teasing lightheartedly.
“Kids would’ve cried.”

With a frown, you contended, “That’s because you already know that I’ll be injecting
even before the made-up story!” You bitterly stuck your tongue at him like a kid and
Jimin chortled, appeasing you with an embrace.

“No, it just stings, like a lot. Wow, your patients will die with how heavy your hand
is.”

“Ya!” You put the syringe down just to pinch his side when suddenly the door opened
 again, Jungkook entering the room.

“What are you guys up to?”

Eyes glittering due to finding someone new and clueless to play with, you beamed at
your baby boy. “Just right in time! I have a story to tell you!”

The four other men shaked their heads at your sly method but Jungkook was so glad to
be with you after a long time that he excitedly sat beside you. “What story?”

Repeating your ant cooking story, you asked the maknae to close his eyes and he
immediately obeyed, everyone holding in laughter at how gullible Jungkook was. He
didn’t even have any idea that you’ll be using a syringe on him but as you inserted the
injection, he just squirmed a little, startled.

The storytelling seemed successful with how you managed to inject properly.

“Wow! Our little good boy is so great! He didn’t cry!” Seokjin pinched the maknae’s
cheeks wide apart, teasingly congratulating him that had everyone in stitches.

Taehyung followed by lovingly scratching the maknae’s chin while Yoongi ruffled
Jungkook’s hair, teasing too; Jimin was gesturing a big thumbs up like a proud dad.
And only then did he realized that he was trolled and used like a guinea pig but then
again, he didn’t mind—none of them did as long as you’re the one handling them.

Your injecting skills were still lacking and they knew it, which was why it’s Taehyung
who’s now asking for the story too, promising that he’d act like he hadn’t heard it for
a couple of times already; your sweet boyfriend just wanting to help you to practice
too.

After a few tries on him, it’s Seokjin’s turn; the eldest dramatically yelling every
single time you inject the pointed needle, insisting that you should be trained for
difficult patients like him. He might look like he’s only playing but you know what he
meant, but then again Yoongi was so annoyed with the loud yelling that he offered his
arm instead.

“Use me, I won’t budge,” the pianist muttered and you smiled at him with
appreciation.

It was a long day of practicing different techniques and methods; for others, it might
become boring but it’s Jungkook who stayed beside you all day, observing how you
inject and rooting for you the whole time.

The next day, they five of them were counting colorful bruises on their arms, jesting
that the one with the most number of purple marks loves you the most and you
couldn’t help but shake your head at their nonsensical argument.

Apologetic, you took their arm, rubbing a towel with ice and promising to kiss them
better afterwards, knowing that it’s your lips they’ve always wanted to have.

No doubt. It’s him who told her about the insect competition—the injection method for difficult
kids that you came up with which you always bragged to them back them.

That guy must be using your technique too.

The door opens, Sunny squeaks. “Oh, it’s Dr. Rabbit!” she shares, pulling you back into reality
where Jeon Jungkook—the boy who used to hate studying the most—is now an actual intern under
you and entering your patient’s room.

“He’s the one who told me that I have to get well and be strong to save more ant families!” Sunny
points your ex-boyfriend with a happy grin.

With a sheepish smile, Jungkook meets your gaze; your eyes just staring back at him with silence.

This clueless man was the least Bangtan you expected to pursue medicine, but here he is, already
changing lives of little kids like a pro.

A few days after . . .

Without a trice, you barge into Jaebum’s clinic, your left eye shut, stinging with pain as a foreign
object accidentally hit it during your shift. “Bumie!” you yelp as you head immediately to your
favorite black couch.

Worried, he comes close. “Let me see. Sit still and try opening it.”

When you attempt to open it, you see Jaebum making silly faces at you and you immediately hit
his tummy, feigning annoyance with a click of the tongue despite the soft chuckles escaping you.
“Dummy, I’m serious! It hurts. Stop joking around and be an actual doctor for goodness’ sake—!”

“Sunbae, your patient’s waiting for you,” a familiar voice makes your body stiffen.

Slowly, you turn to where it came from and see Jungkook looking at you blankly.

“Yeah. Just a minute, Mr. Jeon. I have a VIP patient right now.” Jaebum then tilts your chin back
to him, suddenly with a serious aura as he clicks on his little flashlight. “Try opening your eyes
now.”

You comply and he gently pulls down under your eye bag to scrutinize.

“Jae, it’s okay. It’s not urgent,” you mutter, “Go serve your patient.”

Your friend only laughs softly. “You are a patient, dummy.”

“But I’m not a VIP—”

“You being a co-doctor makes you a VIP,” Jaebum cuts you off as-a-matter-of-a-factly. “If you’re
injured, how will you give patients the proper treatment?”

Suddenly, his clinic turns silent—awkward even. He has a big point though, but knowing that from
across the clinic, Jungkook is there, watching how Jaebum examines you up close just makes you
conscious.

After a few drops of medicine, you can now open your eyes serenely, Jaebum patting your head as
if you’re his cute puppy, an arm over your shoulder as he recites humorously, “Grab your coffee
and go, granny. Careful with the eyes, please! I don’t like seeing you in my clinic.”

The type of friendship you had with this man was mostly composed of ranting about medical
issues at the hospital, about how hectic both your schedules are and about buying coffee for each
other from time to time—plus the occasional drinking if given the same schedule.

“Stop being so clingy,” you whisper the moment Jungkook becomes preoccupied and tutored by
another eye professional, taking the cup of coffee from the desk.

With a loud gasp, Jaebum looks at you, feigning upset. “You did not just say that?” He then looks
around and sees Jungkook looking your way again.

There it is, his coy smile plastering on his lips. “Oh, now I see,” he teases, poking your ticklish
side as he mutters, “Afraid that your little Kookie would get jealous of me, huh?”

Your face contorts in displeasure, reasoning out, “Why would I? I just think patients might think
you’re unprofessional.”

With a shrug, your friend comments, “Whatever you say, doc.”

The next day . . .

The day finally arrives.

After ordering every type of coffee available, Jungkook miraculously figures your specific coffee
preference and you don’t know how he found out.

Iced Spice White Chocolate Macchiato with Ristretto shots, topped with a dash of cinnamon
powder.

Ego over anything else flowing within you, you’re still filled with resolute to not accept it but Dr.
Sy jumps in with a bright greeting. “Oh, doc! Your coffee will cool down if you don’t drink it,” she
says, startling you, “You always had the baristas exhausted with that too-specific coffee!”

With everyone’s attention on you, you flash a bashful smile, now having no other choice but to
take it since everyone’s drinking their coffee from Jungkook as well. You take a sip and Dr. Sy
heads back to her desk, informing, “I’ll just grab my chart and I’ll be back.”

Turning to Jungkook, you see the little proud smile painted on his lips and you tell yourself that
you’re only accepting this drink since it’s a free and harmless coffee anyway.

In an obvious good mood, he walks to you. “So, ristretto shots, huh?”

You hum, unimpressed. “Well, congratulations with figuring that unimportant detail. But what I
would like to tell you is that—

“Mr. Jeon,” the intern coordinator pops out of nowhere, trailing off, “How is being paired with the
hospital’s top doctor?”

Oh, the coordinator’s pride seems to be over the moon that you cringe internally.

But Jungkook looks at you with a sly grin. “Is Dr. Sy the top doctor we’re talking about, sunbae?”

You immediately bite on your lips, sensing what’s about to happen while the coordinator cocks an
eyebrow at you. “Dr. Sy is also a remarkable physician who everyone looks up to but she isn’t to
be paired with any intern this semester. Why do you ask, Mr. Jeon?”

You side-eye your ex-boyfriend, signaling him to shut up but he only ignores you.

“Because I’ve been assigned to assist her for almost a week already, sunbae.”

The coordinator’s eyes then zero at you. “Is that true?”

“I-I,” you stutter, thinking of excuses but you couldn’t word out any.

“Doc, I don’t think it’s professional for you to drop your responsibilities without informing me,”
the coordinator scolds, and right on cue, Sy returns, dragged into the trouble; both of you being
told off.

“Dr. Sy has already too much load and you’re being inconsiderate. You, who came refreshed from
a long vacation—of all people—shouldn’t be lazy.”

It’s embarrassing that you can only look at the floor and nod.

“Mr. Jeon, I’m sorry for this . . . mix-up. Please do tell me whenever our top doctor isn’t
performing as expected. Students should have the right to grade their mentors as well. As per the
original schedule, you’re paired together until further notice.”

Jungkook nods innocently and the coordinator leaves with the sternest expression. And you can
only glare at him so sharply thereafter while he just shrugs.

The next day . . .

With a sigh, you pull your hair in a ponytail, preparing for your rounds—with Jeon Jungkook this
time. It’s not like you have any other choice left, right?

As you enter the conference room, you’re greeted with your usual coffee and a grinning intern.

“Good morning, doc!” Jungkook chirps enthusiastically and you can’t even act annoyed because
everyone is looking at you, their own coffees in their hands; the constant bribery to seniors has
been the norm already.

So you take it and greet him back as stoic as you could.

Not wasting time, you immediately proceed to work, informing him about your usual rotation
schedule, hoping he could catch up. The Emergency Room is a toxic station, but with your other
specialties, you’re bound to go up the floors as well.

The soonest you reach your first patient to visit, you make sure Jungkook understands each case
and that he could follow your counseling.

Hours after and you go to the chemo floor, visiting your last patient for the whole shift—Sunny.

The usual procedures are taken, checking for her vital statistics, her medicines, follow-up questions
and how she’s feeling. Afterwards, you’re pretty much free to just stay with her for a few more
moments, knowing that she has no relatives visiting.

The soonest Jungkook realizes that his internship shift is done, he sits by Sunny’s bed and grabs a
coloring book inside his bag. “C’mon! It’s your favorite page we’ll color this time.”

Quicker than a ray of light, Sunny gets up with a smile, joining the intern and reaching for crayons.

Your curiosity gets the best of you that you fail to notice how your mouth unintentionally
questions, “How did you guys become so close?”

The two exchange glances and then it’s the little Sunny enlightening.
Indeed, Sunny was a brat. No nurse could pacify her whenever she screamed and
argued about how much she hated everyone in the hospital. She hated vaccines the
most, purposely moving too much whenever someone tried to administer her
medicines.

She was branded as one of the most difficult pediatric patients in the floor, her
condition even aggravating the whole set-up.

One day, with all the commotion about the kid not wanting to be injected, Jungkook
who’s with Dr. Sy, accidentally found a letter under her bed, a little cute love letter
about her schoolmate, slash, crush. And he couldn’t help but smile, thinking of ways
on how to approach the kid.

The instant he had the chance, he tried a different technique.

“Go away!” the kid huffed, turning her back on the intern.

With a hum, Jungkook whispered, “I know you have a crush on Luke.”

Abruptly, the kid turned to him with wide eyes. “How’d you know?!”

With a soft giggle, Jungkook answered, “Your love letter fell on the floor. Don’t
worry, I’ll keep your secret.”

The kid didn’t look impressed; instead, she just rolled her back against him again.

“D’you want to know how he’ll like you back?” he asked, raising the question she
wrote in her letter.

Ears perking up, Sunny glanced over her shoulder, intrigued, “D’you really know
how?”

Jungkook’s lips curved in a smile. “Of course! I’m a boy, I know what boys like.”

“D’you think he’ll like me?” Wrapped around his fingers, Sunny then sat on her heels,
anticipating.

“Well . . .” he trailed off, cocking his head in doubt. “It depends if you’re brave.”

“Brave?”

“Yeah. Boys like brave girls!” said Jungkook.

“That’s easy. I can be brave,” the kid muttered.

“Really?” the intern softly questioned, reaching for his patient’s little hand. And when
Sunny nodded, he continued, “By chance, do you know the insect cooking
competition? Brave girls participate in that.”

And one thing led to another, Jungkook narrating the whole story, convincing Sunny
to close her eyes. “Are you sure about this?” he sweetly asked again, raising her gown
sleeve as he used your injection technique.

“Yes, doctor! I’m gonna help the ant win.”

 “Even if he’s clumsy?” he asked and Sunny nodded.

“Even if it’s a little ouchy?” he asked again, imitating how you always asked him back
then.

“I guess,” Sunny softly replied with a pout, “I’m brave, you know!”

And that was how he managed to give her the vaccine as scheduled. Then, their
conversations grew, laughter shared between them and in no time, Jungkook had
earned his cute nickname of ‘Doctor Rabbit’.

“Aren’t you gonna help us color, doctor . . .” she trails off, unsure, “Dr. Turtle?”

Both Jungkook and you release a short snort at the nickname Sunny came up with.

“Why am I a turtle?” you ask, walking closer to the both of them.

“Because you’re obviously slow, doctor. You keep standing in the corner and walk the slowest,”
the kid teases, making Jungkook stiffle his giggles.

“I see. Turtles are awesome though. They carry their house,” you say, patting her head. “But I’m no
turtle so I gotta go home, dear. I have—”

“Doc, it’s her l a s t day before undergoing sessions of chemotherapy,” Jungkook whispers,
beseeching silently.

With that reminder, you feel the urge to spend more time with the kid, knowing that her body will
weaken for quite some time afterwards. It’ll need to recuperate and thus, her vibrant energy might
be lessened for the days to come.

“Yeah. Dr. Turtle, we gotta finish coloring all these,” the little girl begs and in a blink of an eye,
you’re grabbing your own crayon to help them.

An hour after . . .

“Dr. Turtle, do you have a crush?”

You’re caught off guard by Sunny’s question but before you could give an answer, she speaks
again, “Dr. Rabbit told me he had his own crush. He said she was the prettiest girl he ever saw,
well I’m second, right?” She cocks her head, waiting for the man’s reply.

Sheepish, Jungkook mumbles, failing to meet your eyes, “I change my mind. You’re the prettiest
now, Sunny.”

Touched, she chuckles, continuing her story nonetheless, “And he said he used to teach her
Taekwondo so she would notice that he’s brave.”

{BGM: 20cm—TXT)

Your cheeks rosen on its own, little butterflies suddenly filling your stomach as you recall those
sessions with Jungkook years ago. “Oh,” you breathe, eyes wavering awkwardly as you pretend to
be interested.

“And do you know that she’s a doctor too, like him?” talkative Sunny adds, her eyes glued to the
coloring book, “Dr. Rabbit, when will you let me meet her?”
Tongue-tied, Jungkook opens and closes his mouth, contemplating on what to answer when you
beat him to it.

“Why do you wanna meet her?” you ask before you can think.

The kid peers up at you, smiling. “So I could ask if she likes Dr.Rabbit. Or if she doesn’t, what will
it take for her to like him back? I gotta have tips so my crush would like me back too.”

Her honest answer has you giggling in no time, eyes crinkling even. And Sunny cutely blabs, “Do
you know that he became a doctor because of—”

Before she could finish, Jungkook reaches out to cover her mouth. “Too much talk, Sun. I told you,
I’m still studying to be a doctor and we gotta drink your medicine first,” he mumbles incoherently.

With her nodding helplessly, he lets her go, and she instantly comes out with this enormous zest.
“Oh, right! I need to get well soon, so that I could get back to school and be what my crush wants
to be too.”

It’s hard not to smile at this brave little one, knowing that she’s diagnosed with leukemia. “Your
name fits you so well, bright like the sun,” you thoughtlessly utter, growing fond of her.

“Yeah, everyone says that! I love my name.”

You tuck loose strands of her hair behind her ear. “But you shouldn’t just imitate someone else’s
ambition,” you advice, discreetly hoping that Jungkook gets your point. “You gotta decide yours . .
. on your own.”

More hours passing by, the coloring book slowly gets filled with beautiful splash of vibrant art
from the three of you when you suddenly hit your elbow on a surface; that specific nerve inside
you struck hard that you immediately yelp and squint, curling in torment as you purse your lips
tightly, holding back cursing in front of a child.

The two others are alarmed, seeing your discomfort; Sunny dropping her crayon to check on you.
“Dr. Turtle, are you okay?” she asks with worried eyes.

Biting on your lips, you nod your head despite the sting. It’ll surely bruise tomorrow.

“Your face looks odd,” she observes before turning to Jungkook innocently. “Dr. Rabbit, you
should kiss her!”

Instantly, both you and Jungkook blush furiously at her statement.

“What?!” you bark in sync.

She groans, rolling her eyes as if you guys don’t understand what she’s saying. “Kiss!” she repeats.

A/N:

Just the thought of Bangtan being your support group, wow. Feel free to tell me how you feel! &
also, Jungkook is so cute in the recent Run episode. How. can. someone. resist. him.
[INTERLOGUE]

Jungkook was observant. He always was. And so while waiting for the patient he was tasked to
refer in the Ophthalmology clinic, he silently looked around.

On top of a desk sat an innocent cup of coffee. And with him running out of flavors and mix of
coffee to give you in the coming days, he peeked to see what’s written in Jaebum’s coffee cup,
hoping for something unique.

Iced Spice White Choc Macch with Ristretto shots + cinn powder.

And unique it was. Hissing internally, he scoffed. Cinnamon? Jaebum liked cinnamon?

His judgmental eyes shifted back to your busy ophthalmologist friend which he never liked to
begin with. It’s a given that his blood would boil whenever in the presence of Jaebum, recalling
how Bangtan almost clashed with GOT7 during pre-med college days.

But before he could reminisce deeper, he saw you enter and instantly, he’s worried. However, the
sight of you striding towards Jaebum’s desk without second thoughts had him rooted to the spot.
Sadly, there was nothing he could do but watch and wait and let someone else take care of you.

The closeness you shared with Jaebum somehow came as a surprise to him. With how you smile so
naturally with the eye doctor along with how you both goof around with each other, Jungkook
could conclude that you’re very much good friends.

There’s nothing wrong with it but why couldn’t he stop feeling so jealous? With that thought, he
looked away, yielding. But his eyes widened when he heard Jaebum nonchalantly mention coffee.

“Grab your coffee and go, granny. Careful with the eyes, please! I don’t like seeing you in my
clinic.”

His jaw clenched, hating how you kept refusing the ones he gives while Jaebum could reach you
any stuff and you’d gladly take it without second thoughts.

You got on your feet, leaving the clinic while all Jungkook could think was how sometimes, he
wished he was Im Jaebum.
 vaccine 2.0
Chapter Notes

⌦ Warnings: tension, jealousy, implied smut, lewd words, angst, like ANGST,
mentions of death, emotional roller-coaster 1/?; do not read if you’re emotional.

⌦ A/N: I know I said next update is gonna be Feb, but I think I had to cut this
chapter so I decided to give you guys this part first. *coughs* tissues. hmm,
choosedays, huh?

“Dr. Rabbit, you should kiss her!”

Instantly, both you and Jungkook blush furiously at her statement. “What?!” you bark in sync.

She groans, rolling her eyes as if you guys don’t understand what she’s saying. “Kiss!” she repeats,
clarifying bossily.

Flabbergasted, he tries to reject her idea politely but then Sunny contests, “Dr. Rabbit, you always
say I’ll get well whenever you kiss my forehead before leaving my room. Are you . . . by chance,
just lying? Am I not gonna get better?” the question tugging at your heartstrings.

Her eyes suddenly drop to the ground at her realization that you and Jungkook immediately try to
comfort her.

Getting on your feet, “It’s not painful anymore!” you bluff, a bit of panic in your voice but the
soonest you move your elbow, you wince again, making Sunny frown.

“Liar.” Her brows furrow at you as she sticks her tongue in displeasure.

Clearing his throat, Jungkook prompts, “Sunny’s right.”

His response takes you aback, making you nervous even. “W-what do you mean?”

Without warning, Jungkook grabs your hips, pulling you in between his thick thighs; your heart
threatening to burst out from your ribs.

It all happens so quickly that you didn’t see it coming, his hand on your waist, the other now
holding onto your arm as his soft lips press a firm kiss on your pained elbow.
For a few heartbeats, you freeze, all other memories of what his lips had done to you flashing right
before you like a montage.

Oddly, it’s not only the kisses that you recall. It’s his different smiles during the most significant
moments that have your heart fluttering; his shy smile when he did push-ups after tripping due to
carrying too-many-books during your tutorial sessions in the library, his soft smile when he draped
you his varsity jacket and whispered ‘Jeon Protection’ that time you got bullied by some girls, the
bunny smile when he announced that he’d be representing the university in the annual Taekwondo
competition.

Even his frown when he hovered on top of you as he threatened you to stop treating him like a
child flashes in your mind, followed by his devilish smirk when he fucked you raw in the laundry
area and the many other fucking sessions that occurred.

Out of the blue, it’s not only the lewd things he did that you reminisce—it’s also those times he
looked at you, eyes crinkling in excitement as you sneaked out to eat or play or watch horror
movies or date without the others and such; in the end, it’s those times where he’d pull you
towards his lips and say how much he loves you that reigns over everything else.

Indeed, the best memories bring sorrow, making you pull away immediately; the painful days you
had all to yourself following after everything good you had with him.

Your mind prompts all the crying, the longing, and eventually, the trying-to-move-on so-you-
ended-up-studying-different-martial-arts because you suddenly got addicted to the body pain which
partially numbed the emotional pain you had when you became single.

It’s quite a difficult journey, to be honest—the hardest even. Moving on has never been easy. And
now with just one measly kiss on the elbow, you find your walls slowly crumbling down, your
own self betraying you as if it’s falling for Jeon Jungkook all over again.

It can’t be, you tell yourself bitterly as you head to the door, leaving the room without second
thoughts.

The next day . . .

With your usual coffee, Jaebum visits the doctor’s lounge near your station but as he sees you on
your desk, your hand already holding your own coffee seems questionable.

You didn’t want to look bothered by what happened yesterday, and so you decide to casually
accept Jungkook’s usual morning coffee again.

“Seems like someone else beat me today?” your friend teases, taking a sip on the coffee he
originally brought you instead.

You hum, not in the mood to joke around. “Better luck next time, gramps,” you say, heading to
your first patient just as scheduled.

The next day . . .

Jaebum arrives again, the same hot coffee in his hands but unfortunately, Jungkook seems earlier
than him as well.

Raising him your own cup of coffee to signal that you already have one, you faintly smile at your
friend, getting on your feet as you prepare for your morning rounds and he strides to you with a
whisper, “Is he courting you again?”
“What?!” You stiffen, face contorting with displeasure. “What nonsense is that?”

Chuckling, Jaebum shrugs. “He’s buying you coffee every freaking day, granny.”

You reply with a roll of eyes. “So what? You’re buying me coffee everyday back then too and you
weren’t courting me,” you enlighten him, placing your precious stethoscope around your neck.

“Wah! Do you want me to court you then?” your friend humors dramatically. “Oh boy, that’s the
kind of complicated I never thought you’d want.” Then, he starts laughing, poking fun at you early
in the morning.

“Stop teasing, asshole. I didn’t mean it that way,” you grit, taking your patient census for today.
“Besides, he gives everyone coffee. No hidden agendas, okay?” Both your eyes drift to the intern
handing out specific coffee orders to every staff in the station—janitor included.

With a smirk, Jaebum waggles his brows at you. “What if he tells you he wants to get back?”

Clicking your tongue at his pathetic question, you wince. “Why would he?”

“Because—”

“Jaebum, I’m not getting back with him. Not with anyone,” you dismiss him instantly. “Exes are a
major no.”

And just like that your friend gives you a knowing smile. “Whatever you say, doc.”

The next day . . .

The sight of Jaebum skipping ecstatically along the halls and towards your desk has you rolling
your eyes. The soonest he arrives, you cut him off with an obvious fake smile, showing him your
usual ‘free’ coffee. “I already told you, we have a coffee-bribing intern, you don’t need to bring me
—”

“Good morning sandwich!” with eyes turning into crescent moons, your friend lively shouts while
annoyingly shoving the food right in front of your face which catches everyone’s attention—but
then again the whole staff always knew how close you two are, so they shift their attention back to
their tasks.

Face twisting in confusion, you ask, “What’s this for?”

“Uhm . . . As your eye doctor, I realized that you should cut down your caffeine. Have a sandwich
and eat healthy instead,” Jaebum nonchalantly informs, the grin on his lips making you doubt what
he says.

Your eyes narrow at him. “Ya, caffeine and eye sight? I never learned that from Patho.”

“That’s because you didn’t study.”

His reply has your brows scrunching. “Hey, we weren’t even classmates back in med school,” you
debate while he chortles, shrugging as he slings an arm over your shoulder.

“Just eat it, granny.”

You click your tongue, shooing him away but nevertheless, you take a bite the moment he’s gone,
your eyes twinkling due to how tasty the sandwich is, unaware of how Jungkook is already
discreetly sulking in the corner.
After your meal, you proceed to your usual rounds with Jungkook following you around. Hour
after hour, you explain to him certain concepts that he finds hard to understand. As time goes by,
you can see the exhaustion overpowering him but when the two of you sets to visit
your last patient, his energy shoots up again.

“Missed her already, kid?” you ask, regretting how the nickname slipped from your tongue;
Jungkook seems to hear it loud and clear.

Flashing a small smile, he nods, happy to hear that he’s back to being ‘kid’ rather than ‘Mr.
Jeon’—that’s a little something to brighten his tough day.

Clearing your throat, you walk quickly, avoiding further unnecessary interactions.

“Hi!” you greet cute Sunny lying on her hospital bed after eyeing her medical chart and she replies
with a warmer smile, her cute little bunny teeth still on the process of growing.

Jungkook feels more at home. “How are you feeling?” His hand makes its way to her forehead to
check her temperature.

“Good!” she says, her enthusiasm despite her condition surprising you.

Again, you flash a smile at her. “Wow, that’s great to hear!”

Funny how the supposedly quick visits eventually end up into long chats filled with laughter due to
how endless her energy is; the curious and mischievous kid always coming up with these silly
ideas she likes to try that you and Jungkook couldn’t help but make efforts to give her what she
wants every next visit: like painting, origami folding, mini Bluetooth mic for a quick karaoke
session with her Dr. Rabbit, fashion designing her stuffed toy’s wardrobe, ukulele lessons from
Jungkook because her hands are too small for the guitar, even arguing with the management to let
you bring in fairy lights as alternative for her favorite constellations.

In no time, Sunny has won a specific spot in your heart that seeing her everyday becomes
mandatory—her signature smile being your favorite part of your day.

Oh, you’d risk anything for Sunny, never mind the trouble just to see her happy and healthy. No
matter how toxic your shift was, or how exhausted you already were, and even on your days off,
with no second thoughts, you’d go straight to her room the moment you’re free.

A few days after . . .

On duty, you receive a call from a fellow doctor about an incident you never wanted to occur and
so you rush to the elevator, heart thundering in your chest. Please, no. Hang on, darling.

Hands tightly holding Sunny’s, you struggle to keep all your emotions at bay. You’re a doctor after
all; if there’s something you’ve learned since day one: it’s how to deal with life and death.

Losing loved ones has been your acquaintance from the start. You can clearly remember the pain
of finding out that your grandfather has passed away. Luckily, you had Bangtan by your side
during those times . . . but a few months after, the sudden death of your grandmother tore you
apart, leaving you regretful of how useless you seemed.

It was undeniably one of your lowest moments in life. Oh, how you wished you had more to offer,
temporarily blaming yourself for the lack of things you could’ve done. Sometimes, coping up with
loss tends to be almost impossible but your mom and boyfriends made sure to comfort and help
you, consoling you that no one’s to be blamed because that’s the nature of life.

Looking on the bright side, if not for that incident, you wouldn’t have pursued medicine. However,
you swear to yourself that your grandparents would be the last people you’d mourn for with such a
heavy heart and immaturity.

Inside the hospital walls which witnessed countless of mortality on a regular basis, you’ve trained
yourself to never grow too attached to any patients with conditions that are unlikely to be cured.

For years, you’ve managed to do so, staying composed during every encounter of the said
experience but now, here you are, eating your own words ever since Sunny came into your life.

“Doctor, I have a question,” she croaks; despite her weak state, she keeps the smile on her lips,
contrasting the panic painted on your face.

You draw a heavy exhale, rubbing the back of her hand. “Sunny, you need to save your energy
please,” you beseech, “Enough with the question.”

But the playful girl never learns to obey your suggestions, thus continuing her inquiry, “If Dr.
Rabbit doesn’t get liked back by his crush, could you kiss and comfort him for me?”

You know her request is nothing but pure innocence. Even in this kind of situation, you wonder
how she remains thoughtful while your mind could only think of other alternatives to alleviate her
condition. “I think Dr. Rabbit can handle a heartbreak better if you’re the one comforting him. So,
please stay strong and healthy, Sun.”

She chuckles, breathing ragged. “No no, you don’t understand, Dr. Turtle. He told me how much
he likes her and that he won’t give up on her . . . no matter what. He’ll need more comforting, I
think.”

This kid certainly loves distracting you, your eyes failing to meet hers with the topic she
continuously brings up. “Sunny, it’s just a crush. Focus on your breathing, please. I can’t give you
anymore meds, you’ll be overdosed.”

She softly places her hand on top of yours, encouraging you with a warm smile. “It’s not painful
‘cause one of my favorite doctors is here with me,” she coughs.

Indeed, she’s brave; your eyes becoming glassy with tears, knowing how much it probably hurts
her to even breathe but she veils it with another loving smile.

“Don’t worry too much,” she voices courageously. “I’m sure when Dr. Rabbit comes, I’ll get
better. He always kisses me better. And with the two of you here, we’ll be happily coloring books
in no time.”

Her optimism kills you inside—the same time it lifts your faith little by little as well but then you
see the ECG monitor signaling her heart rate dropping along with her eyes closing shut; you tighten
you hold on her hand.

For the first time, you hate how Jungkook got his day off. You used to love the idea of not having
him around, but now is really an exception.
“Sunny,” you whisper it like a prayer and she alertly peels her eyes open as if fighting to stay with
you.

“Dr. Turtle, am I gonna go to heaven?”

Your head falls forward, trying to hide the tears threatening to flow. “Don’t ask such things. You’re
staying with me and Dr. Rabbit, right? You promised.”

“But doctor,” she softly trails off, “I’m tired.”

Those two words pierce right through your heart, laying conflict, whether to tell her to fight or to
rest. But then she continues her saddening requests, “Say hi to Luke for me.”

The sound of her voice weakening has your tears falling in no time, but you make sure to wipe it as
discreetly as you can.

“And you can have my coloring book if you want. We haven’t finished. Dr. Rabbit and you can
finish it up for me.”

Heaving a sigh, you muster courage to reprimand her, “Baby, don’t say such things. Please.”

“It’s okay, Dr. Turtle. I’m brave. We’re brave, right?”

And you can only nod, feigning a smile as you assure her that she isn’t alone in this battle.

A few moments later and she speaks again, “Dr. Turtle, can I tell you a secret?”

Just to show her you’re fine, you sweetly flick her chin like always. “Of course, you can.”

With that, she grins big—that grin that always made your day brighter. “I know now what I want to
be in the future.”

A lump forming painfully in your throat, you can only hum, waiting for her reply.

“A doctor. Just like you.”

Instantly, you chew your lips, stifling the urge to cry and she goes on, voice laced with fascination,
“Doctors are cool.”

You force your lips to give a smile.

“And I think you’re pretty. Prettier than Dr. Rabbit’s crush, whoever she is. I always think you two
look great together.”

“Sunny, you’re the prettiest,” you correct, playing with her nose just like how she always like.
“And the bravest. The smartest. And most talkative little girl I ever met. I love you so much so
please,” you whisper, voice trembling, “Please . . . hang on.”

“I love you too, doctor. But I think . . . my parents up above are calling for me now.”

She gives you the most genuine smile that all you can do is let her be, tears streaming down your
face. Few seconds after her statement, you hear the loud last beep; her grip weakening.

***

Panting heavily, Jungkook races to reach Sunny’s room, heart beating so fast that it almost feels
like it’s about to burst. But as he opens the door, the room is already filled with other doctors while
there you are, standing silently in the corner as you stare blankly into space.

“Time of death . . .” someone announces, making Jungkook’s ears perk up, heart clenching in
melancholy.

The healthcare team then leaves the room, giving you privacy since they know how close you both
were with the patient.

{BGM: Beautiful Moment—K.Will}

It’s when Jungkook walks to Sunny’s bedside, crouching down to kiss her forehead that you start
tearing up once again.

“You’re late,” you choke with a tinge of resentment that he turns to you. “She waited for you to
kiss her better. But . . . ” You make efforts to hold it in but you fail, breaking down with heavy sobs
as you cry on your palms.

Without a trice, Jungkook strides to you, pressing your face to his shoulder, making efforts to calm
you down. However, it only worsens the situation, you burst out crying that he eventually
envelopes you in a silent embrace.

“You weren’t there to kiss her better,” you faintly rebuke, sobbing into his chest unceasingly.

Gulping hard, he tries to stay strong as he words out, “I’m so sorry.” His voice is low that you
know he’s just as affected as you.

For a few moments, you just stay there, crying and wallowing in pain and sadness.

***

A few hours later, after Sunny’s body has been taken away, the hospital management called the
both of you back, inquiring whether any of you would like to collect the patient’s belongings since
no relative seems to be interested.

Her stuff in one big box, you stare at it, then reach to look at her notebook. When a drawing of her
with you and Jungkook greets you, your lips tremble, and you end up crying again.

Walking to your direction, he studies the drawing too. “Our little girl sure is talented.”

You unknowingly nod and without noticing it, you’re baring your heavy heart to him. “I thought
her body was fighting it,” you cry, voice quivering.

“You knew her terminal condition the most.”

His statement draws more tears from you because it’s true—you’ve always known; however,
you’re never prepared for it no matter what, blinded by love and hope and wishful thinking that
maybe things would be okay for once.

“She’s too young for that kind of pain,” you contest in between sobs, “She said . . . s-she said we’re
her two favorite doctors. She wanted to be like me.”

Your palms collapse above the table, tears making wet tracks down your face. “Jungkook, it hurts.”

With that, Jungkook goes behind you, arms wrapping around your waist in a back hug. “Just keep
in mind that she’s not in any pain anymore,” his voice gentle and solacing that you almost lean into
his embrace but good thing you managed to stop yourself from doing so.

Thus, you brush him off you and turn to face him, miscalculating the distance; his face so close to
yours, your sad gazes meeting each other’s.

Reaching to cup your cheek, his thumb softly wipes your tears dry and you oddly let him,
unintentionally distracted by his lips.

Can he kiss your pain away like how he used to?

There are no exchange of words needed. His eyes instantly drifts to yours too and inch by inch,
Jungkook lessens the distance between you—

“Code STEMI to ER Emergent unit.”

The announcement snaps you out of the idle trance, making you slightly push him away as you
realize that you’re still on duty.

“Paging, ER resident to Emergent unit, ASAP.”

Clearing your throat, you pointedly look away. “I need to go and I’m taking her notebook with
me.”

Jungkook can only nod, a slight blush painted on his face as he gives way, letting you go.

To be continued.

A/N: GROUPHUG? :c I promise it’ll all be better in time. We’ll get through this together.

(this gif below is pretty much you and Jungkook when Sunny passed away, only a little sadder and
more intimate than Taekook. T.T or we’re all really just crying today!)
 tylenol
Chapter Notes

⌦ Warnings: tension, fluff, flashbacks, implied smut, lewd words, mentions of

cockwarming. fluff again, one of the BEST SEOKJIN characterization I’ve written—
best charactiraztion of any boyfriend even, too much fluff it’s angsty, emotional roller-
coaster 2/?; do not read if you’re emotional and on your period.

⌦ A/N: The past and the present overlap sometimes. I hope you won’t get confused.
And, imagine this chapter was supposedly part of last week’s angst. We all would’ve
sulked together, sobbing.

[F.U.C.K.] TYLENOL is Paracetamol’s brand name; a medication used to treat pain and fever.

Why Tylenol? Because after everything that happened, you surely need it. Plus, Kim Seokjin is the
Tylenol you take when everything just hurts. T.T
For forty-eight hours, you only wallow, blanket wrapped around you all day, crying your heart out
and not even eating anything except petty leftover biscuits because that’s just how you honestly
feel like right now and you don’t even understand why you do.

At this point, all you come to realize is that some people can stay in your heart but not in your life
—the same exact feeling you had four years ago; it’s pathetic, which is why you’re trying not to let
it ruin the progress you’ve made with yourself.

You feel useless. Tossing and turning, you sigh. It’s your wisest decision to file a one-week leave
to distance yourself from the hospital and cope up with all the mixed-emotions consuming you
right now—from grief, to pain, to sadness, to confusion. Fuck, a month and a week is seemingly all
it takes to break you down, the easy task of proving that you’ve moved on slowly coming into a
big fail.

Sunny just like pining for you and Jungkook together, that’s just that! You click your tongue,
wiping your tears dry. You can’t possibly be still in love with him or to any of your six other exes.
No, you refuse the idea, shoving it even off of your mind completely.

Why?

Because it’s been four years! You being single has doubled the amount of times you were actually
in a relationship. There’s no way you still have lingering emotions or whatsoever of sorts for them.

You aren’t in love, you assert, getting up and leaning on your headboard. But upon scanning your
place, you realize that what you are right now . . . is a mess.

Your whole place is in chaos; laundry bin filled with too much clothes you haven’t had the time to
wash, your makeup scattered on the vanity table, boxes of leftover pizza crusts from last time still
sitting unbothered on your small couch.

Wow, you breathe in sarcasm, raking your fingers through your hair as you try to calm down.

Again, it’s okay, you convince yourself . . . doctors tend to be messy sometimes, especially with the
hospital on full house for few weeks straight, interns to be taught, meetings to attend to, and a
beloved patient passing away.

Trying to give yourself a break, you hide under your blanket once again, reminding yourself that
you deserve to rest. Everyone in the management let you off again because they know how
workaholic you can be.

If it wasn’t for a US trip, you would’ve never used your vacation leave—that’s how crazy you
were for medicine. But lately, with Jungkook stepping inside that place you pour your blood into,
you find yourself stepping back more frequently.

It wasn’t because you’re intimidated of him, it’s just you being cautious; the past mixing with your
present isn’t always a setup you like to live in.

But enough about that guy because when your phone prompts a message, you exhale, your friend
Jaebum flooding your inbox so suddenly.
 condolences. i know you’re taking a break but please stop drowning yourself in tears
or else i’ll come knocking on your door and sleep on your carpet floor for a month
and you’ll regret ever taking a week long break.

He knows how you became a sleepover-hater and it’s funny how he knows you that much that
before you can even send him a reply, he texts you again.

Also, instead of wallowing, maybe you should focus on that certain disease case you
have to study and report about? Make yourself busy so you’d stop feeling sad.

He’s right.

Thank god for Jaebum, you tell yourself, typing him a message: Don’t worry. I’m on it, gramps!
U the best.

And so you challenge yourself to get on your feet and at least try to be productive even just for
today.

You’re just being dramatic, you scold yourself, tying your hair up in a messy bun as you grab
whichever jacket you can from your rack. It’s your tummy rumbling that has driven you out of your
place and into the nearest convenient store.

As you enter, you go to that specific aisle, grabbing a cup of Ramyeon noodles, a kimbap and milk
which the friendly cashier always—no matter how much you insisted—says it’s on the house,
rejecting any payment you give.

Yielding easier because you lack the energy to drag the argument, you go to the hot water
dispenser, filling your noodles and unintentionally, you see yourself in the store’s big CCTV
mirror.

There’s a certain level of exhaustion painted on your face, not the kind that can be alleviated with a
good night’s sleep, nor a day at a spa. It’s something way deeper than that.

It’s so obvious; your bleary eyes a sad pair of swollen orbs, dark lines forming under it, lips too
dry, your face on its palest color. And then, you feel your ponytail snap so suddenly that you gasp,
hair falling down your shoulders all out once.

You sigh, the poor thing probably tired of holding on as well but certainly, you’re feeling too dead
inside to even fix the strands blocking your eyes.

There you are again, zoning out. The instant you catch a glimpse of the time, you grab your now-
saggy-noodles and scramble to finish eating so you can get back to working for the case.

Never minding the hot dish, you slurp it, chugging on milk and chewing your kimbap all in one go.
Eating fast has been a basic skill for doctors and that’s probably the specialty you excel at the
most.

Wrapping up the quick brunch, you get up, head falling back as you drink in the last drop of milk
when suddenly your head bumps onto something, preventing you from doing so.

“Oh, sorry,” someone says, you turning instinctively as you rub the back of your head.

But for a moment, your breathing halts, body stiffening instantly at the sight of another of your ex-
boyfriends. This time . . . it’s Kim Seokjin.

Your eyes pointedly look away while the vibrant man starts a friendly conversation, “Uhm, hi.
How are you?”

To say that you’re caught off guard is an understatement.

Perfect, you scream internally, hating on yourself at how you didn’t even make efforts to change
into a casual attire rather than your pajamas paired with an out-of-place denim jacket. Feeling
stinky, you even question yourself when the last time you actually had a decent shower was. God,
it’s so embarrassing that you pray that he won’t notice how you’re at your worst state . . . but you
just had to squeak a hiccup, body slightly jolting upwards right on cue.

For a few heartbeats, he stares at you while your hand reaches for your mouth, trying to halt the
hiccups from occurring. But who are you kidding, you know it doesn’t stop like that.

You look away, knowing that the little spasmodic inhalations spark tons of memories from you
both.

“Eat slowly, cupcake,” Seokjin begged but you weren’t listening, afraid to be late for
class again.

You struggled fitting the sandwich he made for you inside your mouth, taking the
biggest bite before drinking little water. “Tastes amazing,” you commented with a big
smile but he only rolled his eyes on you, unimpressed.

You grabbed your bag behind him and not a few seconds after, you’d burst into
repetitive hiccups which oddly always made him smile. His arms reached for you,
locking you in an embrace.

“Ya,” you hiccuped, knowing where this would end up. “Seokjin-ie, I need to—”

“Listen to me when I say you should eat slowly,” he filled out the blanks, his cheek
touching your head because he wouldn’t let go.

You hiccuped again, nodding in submission. “I will, next time,” you said, pulling
away but your hiccups weren’t stopping, making him giggle.

Without warning, Seokjin cupped your face, his lips reaching for yours. A peck at
first, but a few seconds after, he didn’t think twice to let his tongue inside your mouth,
drawing a moan from you and making you suck on him. It’s when you heard a loud
 thud that you realized how you had already let go of your bag and clung onto him
tightly instead, eyes shutting heavily.

Heart skipping a beat, your lips fitted like two puzzle pieces, his hand resting below
your ear, thumb caressing your cheek in the most loving manner.

A little later and he pulled away with a sly smirk, knowing how he took your breath
away—perhaps not only your breath, but also your hiccups.

“Take your bag and steth and leave before I get too greedy. I might keep you with me
the whole day.”

His humorous threat and loud laugh snapped your eyes open and you reached out to
take your stuff from his hand, sulking, “Such a tease.”

“I love you, doc!” he yelled while you ran for the door, probably late again.

“Uhm, water?”

His voice makes its way inside your head while he offers you a bottle, earning a heavy sigh from
you. It’s all so nostalgic that it’s frustrating how memories flash like VCR; same old Seokjin
always to the rescue, taking care of you because you obviously couldn’t do it yourself properly.

One random night, he woke up way past midnight hearing noises from the kitchen. It
was one of those rare occasions you’re free to stay overnight with them.

“Cupcake,” he raised, rubbing his knuckle on his eye. “It’s four am, what’s with the
party decorations and sweets?

You stared back at him, lips pursed in a sad pout before breaking down like a little
girl. “I’m celebrating the death of my sleep schedule and sanity. Want a cookie?”

Med school was harsh and draining and challenging and it’s starting to get to you but
luckily, Seokjin was there. He just flashed a soft smile, arms extending wide as if
waiting for you to do something.

“Come here. I know exactly what you need.”

{BGM: Sunnyside—Godlovesjudah}

Dragging your feet, you complied, your pout never leaving your face. You’re still a
few steps away from him when he suddenly strode to wrap his arms around you. “My
exhausted girlfriend only needs the warmest hug from her handsome lover.”

His overly narcissistic statement had your brows knotting but then again, he was right.
You stood there, bursting into different emotions while he just let you rant
continuously, promising that he’s listening despite the jargon words you say.

In the end, the usual ten-minute hug from Seokjin—yes, that long because you both
walked to the couch refusing to detach yourselves from each other until you’re
straddling him and resting your head on his chest—was what you really needed to
calm down and realize that you’re just too stressed to think straight.

Rubbing your back in a solacing way, he asked, “How long has it been since you had a
decent amount of sleep?”
 You hummed, trying to count the rare times you rested but before you could even
reply, he cupped your face, purposely making your face look like a fish. “You’re so
stressed! You need to be kissed two hours straight!” he concluded, making your lips
curve upright.

Seokjin and his jokes.

All tension and worry evaporating in a trice, you hit his chest lightly, hinting that
you’re not falling for his cute way of seduction.

“Silly,” you whispered, staring back into his eyes. “You still have an early rehearsal
later. You need to sleep.”

Seokjin pressed his lips on your forehead, assuring you, “I’ll sleep when the love of
my life feels okay again.”

“I already am, thanks to you.” You return the kiss on his soft plump lips this time and
he smiled.

“Then let’s get to bed,” he said, eye wagging playfully. “Let’s see what kind
of dreams you’ll have beside me.”

It’s when he takes your hand to forcefully make you grip the bottle he gives that you realize how
long you’ve been zoning out.

Peering up at him, you unintentionally meet his gaze and just like the very first time you bumped
into him, your knees almost give you away. It’s been so long since the last time you saw him, and
now he’s right in front of you—at his best, long black hair brushed back, forehead exposed, eyes
glimmering along his subtle smile.

He doesn’t seem to age; contrasting you who stand before him like a hundred and fifty years old
woman.

Truth be told, but he appears to be really well and happy. So happy that it makes you
sad. Envious rather.

How could he be so blooming without you in his life, while here you are, looking like a beggar
from the poorest third-world country? He probably couldn’t even distinguish you from a trash can.

Okay, maybe you’re overthinking and exaggerating too. But you just can’t help but feel
humiliated, coming across him when you’re already feeling like wanting to disintegrate into
nothingness in the first place.

Seokjin probably thinks of you as the same petty ex-girlfriend who couldn’t even take care of
herself.

.
.

Of course, the six others care for you too but it just happened that the maknae line was
—most of the time—still too busy juggling their studies with their music career while
the composers were—as always—too engrossed with making music, resulting for
Seokjin to be the one who had the most time for you; it’s him who witnessed how
extreme you went for studying that sometimes, you tend to overlook your own health.

{Sunnyside—Godlovesjudah on repeat}

“You’re sick!” he argued, hands digging on his waist but you wouldn’t even spare him
a glance, too preoccupied with your reviewer despite tissues stuck in your nose due to
colds.

Huffing, he called your attention, “I’m warning you, cupcake!”

Eye bags on fleek, you turned to him, eyes barely open. “What? I told you,” nose
clogged, you trailed off, only to sneeze aloud, the tissues flying to the ground. “I-I’m
not sick.”

Groaning inwardly, he walked to your direction and took you into his arms in one
swoop.

“Seokjin~!” you railed, trying to get down. “I need to—!”

“Rest!” was what he sternly said, carrying you to your room.

“But cupcake,” you tried again and his brows furrowed at you.

“Don’t make me use the stethoscope I gave to you!” Seokjin warned, and immediately,
your mind traveled back to the day he gave you your beloved pink steth.

It was the day you passed the Medical Admission Test that you went home to your
boyfriends squealing in joy. All of them were happy for you, congratulating and
cheering you on. But the moment the eldest had the chance to be alone with you, he
grabbed the opportunity to blindfold you—playful and filled with glee.

“I have a present for you.”

Your head cocked to the side. “Present? What for? It’s not even my birthday.”

He chuckled, reaching out the box he wrapped. “I knew the guys—each—gave you
stuff back then.”

“What do you mean?” you bluffed, trying to still keep secrets but Seokjin was pretty
way ahead of you.

“C’mon cupcake. It’s pretty obvious. Your necklace’s from Tae, that specific earrings
you loved the most is from Yoongi; you got an anklet from Jungkook, an N bracelet
from Namjoon, Hoseok and you even have matching wrist watches, the same goes for
 your matching cat keychain with Jimin.

You couldn’t help but smile, reminded of their individual thoughtfulness. “And your
point?”

“My point is that I feel left out. I haven’t given you—!”

You interrupted sarcastically, “Seokjin, for heaven’s sake, you have a treasure
chest filled with stuff you bought for me.”

“Those aren’t that essential anyway,” he debated, “I wanna give you something
that’ll always remind you of me.”

“Isn’t my phone having your photo as my homescreen—which you mischievously did

without my permission—enough reminder?” you teased, poking fun.

Laughing along, Seokjin answered, “No. I want something better than that.” As if on
cue, he took off your blindfold, presenting you his gift.

A pink stethoscope.

With a big smile, you latched to give him a big hug. “You’re the best. Thank you so so
much!”

Gratitude feels like such a tiny word but it’s an endless emotion which you’ll always
have for him and the six others.

His strong arms squeezed you tighter until your whole body was pressed against his
and with his precious gift commencing your med journey, he pointed out, “You know
how much I’ll support your dreams, right?”

“The same goes for me. I love you, Kim Seokjin.”

“Love you too but promise me you won’t replace that steth until you graduate?” he
pleaded with a cute pout, earning a few giggles from you.

“Of course! I’ll use this until I’m fifty!” you assured humorously.

Pleased with your answer, he added, “Yeah. Make sure you pass it on to our children.”

The guitarist took the role of being your main mental care. Well, he was always the one who took
care of everyone even before, all of you loving the affection he showered you with.

But with you, he spoiled you a lot more that you’ve grown accustomed to it so much in the long
run. Hence, you hate to admit but after calling off the relationship, it became such a challenge to
continue studying medicine without him.

And here you are, obviously still not getting the hang of it; from time to time, you’d still crumble
down, returning to being a mess which only Seokjin can fix.

If he’s still your boyfriend right now, he’ll surely rent a spa just so you could relax, have you
massaged, have you all pampered, serving you breakfast and lunch and dinner in bed and then
tiring you in the evening with amazing sex.

That would’ve kept you sane and glowing, unlike the monster you are today.
Your hand tightens on the bottle. “Thanks,” you mutter dismissively, looking away as you try to
brush past him. Feeling unstable, avoiding him is the only option for you because the pretension
gradually becomes more challenging the longer you stay in close proximity with him.

But before you could exit the store, the rain decides to plummet, leaving you halting at the thought
of having no umbrella to keep you dry.

The thought of running for it crosses your mind, but then you see him heading your direction, you
reconsider, hesitating if stepping outside and into the rain is the smartest decision.

Seokjin catches up on you, staring at the dark clouds above and for a moment, you accidentally
exchange awkward glances, reminded of the same scenarios back then.

A few days after you got sick, you’re stuck with him in the house as usual. When
you’re being too busy studying, Seokjin always made efforts to tempt you to throw
your books and just cuddle with him.

If it wouldn’t work, he’d find more cunning ways to have you wrapped around his
finger, tucking you into silly stuff like cockwarming him while you read or letting him
eat you out while you memorized—insisting that those strategies were said to be the
most effective study methods out there.

It was silly, but of course you had to try it once in a while—you couldn’t resist him, to
be honest.

Some weeks after . . .

“All you do is study!” he complained, sulking in the living room while you’re
focusing on your book, refusing to meet his gaze.

“First of all, I’ve been stuck in the same page for three hours already,” you grumbled,
face contorted due to how confusing your subject was.

A little later and he tossed an idea of buying snacks, promising that he’d stop
bothering you and just finish his business plans silently beside you, so you
accompanied him.

But after shopping, the rain poured heavily and you grunted, having no umbrella with
you.

“Let’s make a run for it,” you suggested but Seokjin didn’t approve of it, worrying that
it might get you sick again.

He was about to scold you for always forgetting umbrellas when you decided to just
fearlessly walk into the rain without warning.

“C’mon, you promised we won’t take long. I still have a few chapters to study.”

He didn’t give any reply, and when you glanced back, you saw how displeased he was
with you disobeying him.

The store wasn’t too far from the house and so you just grinned at him in return,
appealing as the rain showered you, “Let’s just go home, please?”

His eyes zeroed on you. “Get back here and wait for the rain to stop.”

You didn’t know why, but you’re certain you’re in trouble. Slowly taking a few steps
away, you apologized with a chuckle, ignoring his demand.

“So, you’re really testing me, huh?” Running after you, Seokjin leaped, mischievously
pulling you closer to him regardless of the heavy downpour of rain. “If you wanna be
sick, just give me a word.”

“No, I don’t wanna be sick!” you argued, trying to untangle from him but he wouldn’t
let go.

You knew what he was doing—trying to prove a point that rain may make people sick.

“Maybe it’s better if you get sick,” he taunted sarcastically, staying rooted to the spot,
both of you getting drenched in the rain, “that way, I’ll have you curled up in my arms
just like how I want to, take care of you—all week long.”

“Seokjin! I’m fucking serious! I can’t get sick, my midterms is—!”

“Oh boo! If I studied medicine, I’m probably a better doctor than you,” he debated
nonsensically, arms tightly wrapped around you.

His challenge triggering you, you roared, “Oh yeah?!”

“Yeah! I’ll prove it! But get sick first so I could show you! And heal you with my
love!!”

His tacky puns had you wincing, but you enjoyed his company as always. Seokjin was
constantly—childishly—asking for attention, either he’s that clingy or you’ve really
just been too busy that you rarely spend quality time with any of them.

A few moments of chasing after each other and you went home, surrendering and
promising to never leave the house without any umbrellas.

In the end, he’s the one who unexpectedly got sick and you had to take care of him
while studying, making him genuinely apologize for being a burden for you but you
insisted, happy to attend to your boyfriend’s need.

“Next time, shower immediately after walking in the rain, okay?” you reproached and
Seokjin nodded, his mouth opened wide, waiting for you to feed him despite his
temperature returning to normal.

A few weeks after and you still forgot to bring an umbrella, his nose fuming at the
thought of you grinning him another ‘let’s just make a run for it’ look.
 “No,” he huffed, his warning hanging in the rainy weather, “I’m not letting anyone or
anything overpower me. If you get wet by the rain. I’ll have to get you even wetter.”

And surely, Seokjin always owned up to his words, having you moaning above and
under him, wet and filled with his cock the instant you arrived home.

Kim Seokjin begged for attention like a five-year-old but showered you ten times more when he
had the chance. Unrelenting, he’d threaten you that you’d be his prisoner for a week if you ever get
sick. He never failed to take care of you, always running after you when you get rained on, always
making sure you’re sheltered from the sickening rain.

But this time, he doesn’t.

Instead, he’s the one who has the courage to say, “Nice seeing you. I better go now. Have a nice
day.”

With an umbrella of his own, Seokjin leaves you, not asking if you have one for yourself.

And just like that, he’s gone . . . while you, you stay frozen, hurting inside.

Now, you have no reasons to pretend that you’re happy or okay.

He used to be the man who stood with you in the pouring rain even though he always nagged that
you both should just stay dry. He’s always the man who went along with your playfulness,
insisting that his happiness is of no value without yours.

Eyes drifting to the floor, you exhale, sadness finding its way inside you. He probably thinks
you’re the same ex-girlfriend who’s been such a drag—the same girl that weighed him down, the
girl he had to take care of.

You start to regret letting him go but seeing him like that . . . it feels like what he deserves—peace
of mind. It’s as if it’s the rightest thing that ever happened for him and it hurts the same time; why
doesn’t it feel right for you too?

You walk on the rain and when it becomes too saddening, you had to have something to pacify the
pain.

.
 “Have I ever gave you sunflowers?” he asked, holding something behind his back.

Eyes glued on your book, you replied, “Uhm, Seokjinie . . . does it matter? When you
already gave me a fucking umbrella tree, remember?”

He chuckled, playfully confiscating your book and handing you a flower. “Here. This
needs sunshine, so aside from Hoseok . . . you’re the obvious choice, cupcake.”

A smile grew in your lips, appreciative as always. You love flowers, but you loved
him more.

The happy memories flood your whole being that you have to calm yourself so you go to your
favorite place—the cafe.

It’s been such a long time since you dropped by the place, too busy with work and honestly, it’s
been long shut down, making you have no reasons to visit.

But today, there was one thing you know that can comfort you. Marching straight to the backyard,
you head to one specific spot—under the umbrella tree.

You’re expecting to calm down and heal but a few steps around it and you tear up, the sight of both
your names carved under an umbrella doodle tugging your heart.

Despite you cringing at his vandalism, he always insisted that the Love-Love Umbrella was
romantic in Japan.

“I love you,” he said, a little knife in his hand as he finished carving his name.

You took the blade and pecked his lips. “I love you too.” Just like him, you carved your name
beside his in spite of how childish it seemed.

A few days after and you saw Taehyung in his rectangular smile, carving his initials—in the tiniest
fonts—below your names too; the five others running towards the tree to write theirs as well,
making you giggle while Seokjin wouldn’t stop whining like a kid.

{BGM: Somebody—Sunday Moon}

Your fingers brush along the engraved symbol, tears streaming down your cheeks at how badly
you crave the old times; a tinge of regret blooming in your heart.

Soaked and not caring one bit, you break down, crying.

Kim Seokjin was your sunny side up every breakfast, the egg that brightened up your day, giving
you energy to face your daily challenges with glee. He was your sweet cupcake every meal after,
the desert that put a smile on your lips, lighting up your mood as always. He was your hot milk
every midnight, the drink that soothed and calmed you whenever you’re feeling exhausted,
promising you a good night sleep despite the troubles you’d encounter.

He was. He used to be, except for the fact that you’ve cut him—them—off in your life.
You lost him and now you were homesick—homesick for him. You feel like such a mess without
him—without them.

Because now, there’s no Seokjin to come after you and hug you, carrying you all wet as you kissed
until you reached the bathroom.

There’s no Seokjin who’d undress you and shower with you, insisting that he wouldn’t let you get
sick with the rain and if by chance you did, he’d promise to make you all better with kisses and
delicious soups the next day.

There’s no Seokjin who’d take care of you when you felt like everything was turning upside down;
damn, he was best at taking care of everyone.

It’s been years since the breakup; you’ve been sucking it up, trying to get through it day after day.
You’ve been fine, life livable but now, you’re left wondering idly if he still thinks of you
sometimes?

If he still—

Giving your face a quick slap, you can’t help but hate yourself. How can you still feel lonely after
the years that passed?

You feel pathetic and stupid for looking like the same messed up woman you were back then, for
reminiscing the past and actually wanting to rewind everything just to feel him again.

You know very well that it can’t happen.

There’s no Kim Seokjin, you chant again as you walk home. And the soonest you arrive, you
couldn’t help but sob, drown yourself with tears as you hug yours knees naked in your cold bath
tub.

A few moments of crying and you stop, wiping it like a big girl. The melancholy have been taking
over you for a while but as you remember why you guys broke up in the first place, you realize that
it’s better this way. A little lonelier but better.

It’s not his fault that the breakup had a great outcome for him, right?

Nude, you get on your feet, the confusion eating you. What are you really feeling? you ask
yourself as you sit on the toilet bowl.

You’re conflicted, the emotions too much to handle but as you stand up, you see blood stains on the
floor, dripping from your womanhood.

A sigh of relief escapes you. You’ve been unstable for days, you admit. But aside from losing
Sunny, it seems that the roller coaster of emotions is just part of your PMS.

Suddenly convinced that it’s just your hormones talking, “Fucking period,” you blame it on your
health status, insisting that you were only overemotional because you are—in fact—a woman.

And it only coincidentally happened that you stumbled across Seokjin during one of those days
where your hormones, emotions and sensitivity rule over you.

You proceed to the shower, deciding on taking a long relaxing bath to compensate you for the
pathetic feeling you harbored.
“I should’ve known!” you grunt.

As a physician, you’re aware that PMS can cause wild, uncontrollable mood swings in some
women. They may go from crying spells to angry outbursts and anxiety attacks, then back to a
stable emotional state—all in one day.

It’s a horrible event in every woman’s life.

Well, you hope it really is the reason for your behavior because what else would be the reason
when you’re a hundred percent sure that you’ve been long moved on?

“No big deal,” you coax, convincing yourself, “You may feel like a loser today but the next time
you come across Seokjin, you’ll definitely smile at him and show him that you’ve gotten over him
for good.”

When will that ever happen?

A/N: Just how perfect was Seokjin as a boyfriend, right?! I know you could all agree to this. And
boo if you don’t. hahahaha. Also, I could still imagine Taehyung’s perfect boxy smile as he
vandalized his name too. CUTIE.

Next update would be two weeks from now, the 18th—any clues on which Bangtan it’d be? Ey~!
make some noise.

Also, i wanna wipe this gif below. huhu my heart

✁-----------------------------------

[INTERLOGUE]

A few days after, you show up at the internship coordinator’s office.

“Sunbae, I can’t handle any more interns. I refuse to. I’m unfortunately unfit for that position.
Please consider. If that continues, my performance as this hospital’s physician might be affected,”
you firmly state, eyes bearing the determination that no one can go against, “I might as well resign
if that’s the case.”

It’s unexpected, but the weight of your words are felt because you’re not the type of employee to
back out from measly tasks. It must be that essential, making the coordinator nod in approval.

And so that ends the partnership between you and Intern Jeon Jungkook.
 forget-me-pill: rope
Chapter Notes

⌦ Warnings: NSFW, tension, fluff, OT7 flashbacks & drunk shenanigans, lewd
words, oral, mentions of voyeurism & foursome, one-night-stands, mentions of
insomnia, sleeping medications or drugs because they’re doctors or maybe
not, emotional roller-coaster 3/?, a controversial chapter, may contain dub-con for
some sensitive readers but as the writer, goddammit, it’s not. but then again, you guys
be the judge, angst, as always, you might need a hug after reading

⌦ A/N: Happiest birthday to the sunshine of our life. To the solo icon of my OT7
tumblr, to our daydream!

[F.U.C.K.] ROPE is actually the street name of a powerful sedative which has some effects that
can make your forget.

Why Rope? Because honestly it’s just HOPE, with an R rather than H. It’s Hoseok’s day, c’mon!
Be witty you guys. Also, it’ll probably depress you as a reader too. Perhaps, some things are better
left forgotten? Ohh, the angst.

Insomniac. That’s what you’ve been for weeks. February isn’t your month, you sigh.

No matter how hard you try to fix your sleeping patterns . . . It. Wouldn’t. Cooperate.

And so now, you unbelievably find yourself heading inside a local bar, hopeless.

They say you should always be careful who you give your midnights to but then again you
currently don’t have anyone to give it to anyways, so who cares?

Back then, your bars and midnights belonged to Jung Hoseok when you visited him during his
gigs, when you were his supportive ‘peaches’ smiling from across the place, waiting for him to
pull off another amazing beat.

Now, midnights are . . . what are midnights for?

You can’t tell because your body clock has been ruined ever since your clerkship and your hospital
shift doesn’t do you much better.
Either you’re on duty or just this boring physician who’s probably on her day off and drinking
another pathetic dose of antihistamine just to get some sleep.

You already did; in fact, you’ve been trying so hard to get a shut-eye but you just kept tossing and
turning for hours that you ended up submitting with a groan.

AN HOUR EARLIER

As soon as you saw the date displayed on your phone, a sigh escaped you, realizing that sleep
would be impossible for you tonight.

Maybe because tonight is not just some ordinary night. Tonight happens to be owned by one of
your exes. It’s Jung Hoseok’s night.

Getting up from bed, you knew this ‘insomnia,’ or whatever it’s called, couldn’t be treated by sleep
supplements anymore and you’re certain.

Why? Because you couldn’t help but remember how you used to celebrate nights like these in the
past—trapped in Hoseok’s embrace, lost in his eyes as you commemorated his night in bed . .
. naked and sore as usual.

Aside from that ridiculous reason which shouldn’t be bothering you anymore—since you’ve told
yourself you’ve moved on, you wanted to try and flirt it out.

You wanted to waste your midnight with a man—any man— just so you could forget how badly
you wish you’re celebrating with Hoseok or how you torturously miss Seokjin, and to stop thinking
about Jungkook the same time you wanted to rub off the ego which Taehyung had stepped on
when he paraded his new girlfriend back in the ER.

PRESENT

Tonight, it’s better to be with someone, anyone, rather than be alone moping all night thinking how
your exes—Jungkook, Taehyung and Seokjin whom you’ve bumped into in the past few months—
got much much more handsome than they were before.

And so the heavens grant your plea, a guy—well, an average looking guy—walks towards you, a
debonair smile painted on his face as he takes the empty seat beside you.

This is it, your time to get back up the dating ladder so you down your drink in one go.

But perhaps vodka is easier to swallow than the fact that you’ll never find anyone better than
Bangtan, and to make it worse, you’ll never ever get them back as well; that thought hovering in
your mind despite the stranger offering you another drink.

“On me,” he says.

A lazy smile is your only response, hand reaching for what he offers and again, you drink; the keen
burn on your tongue and throat making you wince.

He seems to tell you his name but you don’t quite catch it due to the dizziness that shrouds you all
at once.

Your world is spinning, eyes suddenly blurry as your senses slowly go numb.

“Wanna go home with me, sweetheart?” is the last clear thing you hear him say, along with the
sound of the whole bar faintly fading as you dizzily nod.

THE NEXT DAY

The sunlight touches your face and you wake up on your bed, squinting; your body sore and you
having no trace of any memories of what happened last night.

Heading straight to the bathroom, you wash your face, hoping it could wake you up for real. But as
you stare at your own reflection. “Fuck!” you gasp, looking at the hickeys covering your neck
down until your chest. They’re massive.

Yeah sure, one night stand isn’t a stranger to you but heck you can’t even remember if the stranger
was that amazing to deserve you.

Thus, the pettiness you feel doubles.

However, there’s no use crying over spilled milk, you pacify yourself, just shaking your head at
how stupid you were. Thirsty, you walk to the kitchen, concluding that you must’ve been too
deprived of alcohol to be easily knocked down by it last night.

And there by the kitchen counter, you spot a mug filled with hot chocolate. Hands touching to feel
the glassware’s temperature, you hiss; the drink still a little warm.

Annoyance creeps up. How rude is that guy to try and make his own drink just to leave without
any notes? No manners or whatsoever at all.

What a jerk.

***

Driving with one hand, Hoseok pinches his neck fretfully, a think lump on his throat as he
overthinks if leaving was really the right thing to do.

EARLIER LAST NIGHT

It was his birthday; Hoseok was well aware of that fact, but that didn’t stop him from coming to
work. Or maybe because being a DJ didn’t seem like work? He loved his job so much that he
actually didn’t mind if he’d do it 24/7.

So no matter how many times his boss insisted on giving him a day off, he countered with his
heart-shaped smile, “Boss, you letting me work is my birthday present, pretty please?”

Who could resist his smile? No one.

And so he got permission to do as he pleased, but deep down, maybe working on birthdays were
just his escape? An escape from being reminded of you and how you always made him
feel extra-loved during this occasion.

Or maybe it’s the other way around? Maybe he didn’t want escape.
Hoseok had been a DJ at several bars but tonight, he insisted on working at the club nearest to
where you lived, hoping that you’d miraculously drop by for a drink and maybe he’d catch a
glimpse of you or have any small conversation of some sorts.

After a few rounds of amazing beats which he threw the crowd, he went for a fresh air outside and
that’s where he saw you, like an answered prayer, you—the love of his life, still.

From outside the big window, he could see you sitting on the bar counter, despite seeing only your
side profile, he’s sure how gorgeous you looked tonight.

He was walking to and fro, indecisive whether he should march straight to you and talk or just head
home, already grateful for having the rare chance to see you.

Heaving a deep sigh, he was willing to settle with calling it a night but then he saw a familiar face
walking towards you.

It was a regular customer at the bar, famous for complaints from women being fooled by him
every time he went there; the whole crew had been suspecting that he was a pervert, making
Hoseok think twice if he should meddle or not.

Continuously walking back and forth, he hummed, coming to a decision. “For the friendship,” he
muttered, realizing that he needed to warn you at least, so he stepped inside the bar with courage;
Ariana Grande’s song ‘One last time’ playing aloud, giving him the boost he never knew he
needed.

Hoseok had great timing. The moment the pervert excused himself for the bathroom, he took the
chance to approach you.

“Hey,” he softly greeted but as you turned to him, you already seemed tipsy that it surprised him.

You stared at him, face voided of any emotions when suddenly, someone interrupted.

“Dude, that’s my chick you’re flirting with.”

You and Hoseok shifted your attention to the man who’s now pulling you by the waist.

“Come on, sweetheart. I’m gonna take you home, remember?” he said, making Hoseok’s blood
boil in a trice.

“She’s not going home with you!” he snarled, pulling you back to him as their fiery gazes clash
against each other’s while you stayed silent.

“Who the fuck are you even?” the stranger spat and Hoseok knew he had to do something.

Shifting his gaze back to you, he looked you in the eye, gulping down hard before asking,
“Peaches, do you really wanna go home with this guy?”

Both men were waiting for your answer; Hoseok on pins and needles. It’s been so long since he
felt this nervous—only you could make him feel this way.

Upon seeing your flushed face, he’s positive that you’ve had many drinks already; what he wasn’t
sure was which tipsy-peaches would be activated.

Back then, every drinking session, your seven boyfriends all had one goal: to get you drunk.

But their weak asses couldn’t compete with your over-the-top alcohol tolerance.
A year of being in a relationship with you, Hoseok and Taehyung, the easily drunk
ones, heard stories about your different personas when ‘tipsy’— you, insisting with
that word claiming you’re never drunk except that one time after kissing Taehyung at
a bar—but never actually having the chance to witness it because they’re always
passing out a little too soon.

Namjoon and Jungkook along with other heavy drinkers had the rare chance of seeing
...

The man-hater-drunk-you.

They said you kept talking roughly about feminism nonstop and they ended up
arguing with you; you being drunkenly forward and scowling at them and talking shit
about the whole male species, not even them letting them touch you until they
admitted that women will always be more superior than men.

Boy, the five men despised your nagging and know-it-all alter-ego, but they loved you
too much that they had no choice but to just accept it and complain about your
statements the next day when you’re sober and level-headed.

“Do you even remember what you said the whole night?!” Seokjin bitterly groused as
he poured milk on your cereals, the seven of them waiting for your reaction or even an
apology of some sorts.

A sigh escaped you, but you only looked at them, reposed. “I’m not taking back the
fact that women have higher IQs than men. And we can multitask quicker too.”

They were all a bit surprised that you indeed had memories of the whole argument
despite the alcohol you’ve consumed.

“Yeah, you said that!” Namjoon added, “But aren’t you gonna apologize about how
you supported the multitasking concept with an example of how you jerk Taehyung
with your hand while blowing Hoseok and riding Yoongi?”

You blushed, along with Hoseok and Taehyung choking onto their breakfast juices,
having no clues about that conversation.

Clearing your throat, you reached out a napkin to wipe their mouths and closing their
wide open jaws for them afterwards as you apologized to the others. “Okay, I’m sorry.
I just couldn’t control my mouth whenever I’m tipsy. But let’s be honest, we all know
you love hearing me talking dirty.”

Few months later, Jungkook also shared his favorite tipsy-you persona . . .

The cracked-up-you.

For some unknown reasons, you’d just laugh about almost anything; him, Jimin,
 Yoongi and Seokjin having the opportunity to hear your drunk cackles which only
surfaced during those times.

The next day, Jimin kept bugging you to let out the same laugh you flooded them last
night but you just couldn’t produce it when sober, making the easily-drunk-three
envious.

Seokjin also stressed out another tipsy-you persona . . .

The-timid-as-fuck-you.

You wouldn’t even speak a word that the last men standing—aka JinYoonMin
—hated it more than the man-hater you.

However, Jimin insisted that he hated another of your tipsy perona even more . . .

The nonstop-ageyoing-you

The violinist said that you were being too cute his cheeks hurt from smiling so big. It
was his weakness while Yoongi boasted that out of all these tipsy personas he
encountered, his favorite was . . .

The clingy-you.

You, who kept showering them with kisses and slurring with sweet stuff—that alter-
ego which only your devil had seen.

The six others woke up with lipstick marks of kisses you left their faces, wanting them
to know how much you love their weak drinking asses while Yoongi and you kept
narrating what happened.

They’ve seen at least five personas, but you teased them that Bom and Gaeul—being
your original drinking buddies—informed you that you had seven.

Challenged, they all wanted to bring out the other two but sadly, your relationship
ended before they could even do so.

And with a couple of years being separated from them, Hoseok obviously finds you unpredictable
—an enigma that’s making him turn into cold sweat.

Of all those seven tipsy-egos, which would he get tonight? Aside from that, he didn’t even know if
you wanted to talk to him or even see him at all.

God forbids that he’d be the rude ex-boyfriend cock-blocking you but he had to try or else he’d
forever regret it.

Rubbing your pained temples, you shook your head, the stranger suddenly humiliated with the
rejection, relieving Hoseok; his nervousness replaced with death glares that could kill, resulting for
the man to flee with a bitter cuss.

“You~,” you suddenly teased, dragging the vowel and poking him by the chest as you trailed off,
“take me home, birthday boy.”

His lips pursed in a tight line, beyond confused in what stunt you’re pulling off. He didn’t want to
take advantage, he never did. But knowing that ‘if he left you, someone else might’ made him
come to a decision.

One last time, he told himself as he tried to walk you home.

***

Take you home was literally what he did; your arm slung on his neck as he assisted you to walk to
your apartment.

“Keys?” Hoseok uttered, head turning to you while your shut eyes suddenly opened wide.

“Kiss?!” you gasped, then pouting your lips as you closed your eyes with anticipation, making him
stifle a smitten smile.

This must be a dream or a trap? Or maybe it’s just the aegyo-you emerging.

He let out a soft chuckle, clarifying as he stayed like the gentleman he was, “Don’t worry, I won’t
steal a kiss. We just need to get you inside and I’ll be gone afterwards. Give me your key, peaches.”

“Peaches,” you repeated with a subtle smile as if the word was the sweetest word ever invented,
reaching him what he asked for.

Boy, was Hoseok happy with the tipsy-you he’s interacting with right now; he even considered
himself lucky to not get the too-timid-you tonight.

***

“Peaches hates dresses!” You pouted, whining as you tossed and turned across the bed he laid you
on.

Again, he sighed, a tiny smile playing on his lips. “I know,” he replied, aware that the tube dress
you’re wearing was the same dress you’re forced to wear during 95s graduation day.

“Should I get a shirt for you?” he asked, tucking stray hairs behind your ear, eyes staring fondly at
you while you only nodded, pointing out where he could get one.

As he opened your closet, he couldn’t help but grin when he saw something familiar.

The thing was, there was one common denominator with all seven tipsy-you, and it was straight
up honesty. And so he took the opportunity to ask, “You still wear this?” He turned to you, holding
onto his old shirt which you stole from him years ago—the one you took as souvenir in case you
miss the way he smelled.

You were blinking at him repeatedly for a good ten seconds before it actually sunk in. “Always!”
you squeaked, making grabby hands to reach him that he blushed, taken aback by your tooth-
rooting gesture.

“I wear it whenever missing you becomes too much,” you added, whining in a pout, “Sometimes I
pretend you’re sleeping me to hug.”

“What?” Hoseok laughed at your slurred words, heading back to you. “D’you mean hugging you to
sleep?” He sat on the edge of your bed, reaching you the shirt.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I said.” You grinned, excitedly taking it and putting it over your head
without a care in the world before letting your body fall back on the mattress.
Clicking his tongue, he looked at you, a baggy shirt over your tube dress which totally looked
uncomfortable.

“Peaches, at least take off the dress,” he pleaded, and you only turned your back on him, insisting
that you’re too lazy that he should zip it down himself.

What a tease, he thought but his decision to undress you was then somewhat defensible. After all,
who would want to sleep in an itchy glittery tight dress? If you’d wake up with scratches and
rashes the next day, he’ll surely be guilty.

Your heels and accessories came off next and you’re left with your panties which his shirt
thankfully covered.

“It’s a first for me to see you drunk,” he whispered, tucking you into a cozy blanket.

Eyes closed, you still had the energy to debate, “I’m not drunk, just sleepy.”

Too bad you didn’t see his heart-shaped smile as he nodded. “Alright, sleep tight.”

This image of you. It might be the best birthday gift he’d ever received since the breakup. If he
could freeze this moment, he would; he’s that grateful.

But he knew that staring at you for a few moments was all he could do. He had made his peace
that there’d be nothing he could do to turn back time, respecting the outcome of your decision from
way back.

He was ready to leave when you suddenly grabbed his wrist.

“Can you hug me?”

For a few heartbeats, Hoseok only stared at you, in complete disbelief that he’s hearing you say
those words after a long time.

How could he not? How could he deny your request when you’re asking for it so nicely—and
adorably with those closed eyes of yours?

Nights where both of you stayed in the bedroom to just cuddle hang in his mind. You loved
clinging onto him just as much as how he kept you by his side.

He’s then reminded of how you’d do whatever it took to be with him for his special day. No matter
how tired you were from school or how busy you were, you’ll be there—no excuses.

And then he’s smiling at the thought of the usual birthday cuddle after a wild birthday sex while
waiting for the night to end—you, him, wrapped in a cozy blanket, not giving a care in the world as
you both got lost in each others’ warmth; random topics spilling everywhere and you’re both
laughing and just enjoying each other’s company.

“Happy birthday, my daydream,” was what you always whispered after stealing a
 peck on his cheek.

He’d flash his heart-shaped smile at you and kiss you back on the forehead.
“Regardless of what day it is, it’s always a happy one for me because you’re mine.”

And then both of you would burst in giggles, your fist gently hitting his chest.

He’d kiss you again and afterwards, you’d bury your face on his neck, breathing in his
sweet scent which you always claimed you’re addicted to.

He’d play with your hair and talk about whatever came into his mind, and not a few
minutes later and you’d end up asleep on his chest.

“Just until you sleep?” he bargained and you nodded, making space for him to snuggle beside you.

A little later . . .

“You should be sleeping! Damn you, woman!” he growled, voice tensed and scolding but you were
fully positioned, head on his chest, a leg over his torso as if he’s your prisoner.

Okay so maybe having a tipsy-you was a lot harder to handle? No, scratch that . . . it’s actually a
pain in the head that he’d rather have you timidly asleep than you being this naughty, aggressive
woman that you’re being.

“M-my body’s hot, Hoseok-nim,” you replied in a cheeky whisper, your boobs pressing against
him making him groan.

“Oh, no you don’t. Stop!”

You reached for his ear, pleading, “Hoseok-nim.”

That one word always was his trigger.

Squinting his eyes closed to discipline himself, he croaked desperately, “Peaches, please. Don’t do
this.”

“Why, Hoseok-nim?” You kept calling him with your neediest voice while peering up to him with
puppy eyes and pouty lips. “Don’t you want me?”

Eyes meeting yours, he gulped, reminding himself to behave. “Sleep,” he firmly said, pressing
your head against his chest, forcing you to rest.

But you were being a brat, contradicting him with a frown. “Don’t you want me anymore?”

“Peaches, I’m trying my best not to—!”

Suddenly, you’re nibbling on his ear. “Mark me,” you seductively suggested, your words heavy
and tempting, “Just like how you used to back then.”

{BGM: If This Is Love—Ruth B.}

Hoseok’s willpower snapped, his hands cupping your face, bringing your lips to unite with his and
both your eyes fluttered closed.

Fuck, it was a deep kiss filled with longing and urgency; it’s drowning. Your lips mashing, tongues
clashing against each other for the first time after the break up that you both turned into moaning
messes.

You made your way to straddle him, your clothed womanhood rubbing against his rock hard bulge
while you allowed him to stroke your breasts underneath his shirt. “God, these perfect breasts with
your perfect little gumdrop nipples,” he whined, biting on your lips.

A little attention and your nipples responded to him quite pleasantly.

Your shirt crumpled up above your breast, Hoseok pulled you close, suckled one of your tits, his
tongue running circles around your nipple; your back arching, encouraging him to do it some
more.

His hands were all over your body and you didn't complain when one of his fingers dipped into
your clothed pussy.

“Take it off,” you urged, lifting yourself so he could peel you naked.

And just like a hypnotized man, Hoseok obeyed, lips stuck on your neck, marking you with purple
and red like what you asked for.

Your panties tossed to the ground, he stroked you, his thumb on your clit and your head fell
backwards as you whimpered.

Hoseok didn’t waste a single moment; he grabbed your hips and turned, your body meeting the
mattress as he hovered above you. He couldn’t control himself; he just missed you so much and
you mirrored his every action the same way, your hands grabbing his hair, pulling him close for
you to kiss.

But he wanted something else, a different lips to kiss and so he eagerly crawled down, spreading
your legs for him.

Hoseok kissed your entrance, spitting on it once before bringing his tongue to lick your pussy
which drove you wild. He licked it all over and felt your clit swell immediately.

Adding his finger to the scene, he traced around your slit and pushed inside as he kept licking.

Your breathing ragged, you muttered incoherently, “Ah, Hoseok!” Your hands on his head, you
pushed him closer to your pussy, hips thrusting forward as your clit rode his tongue. “Fuck, yes!”

You were wild, but you always were when Hoseok egged you just like what he’s doing right now.
He wanted you to orgasm, to explode in his mouth so he’d get to taste more of your sweet juices,
the taste he’d definitely craved for years..

He started adding another finger, inserting it in and out of your hole as he licked your clit with
figures of eight, knowing that it’s your weakness.

Your body began jerking, voice strained as you moaned, “More, more!” You were so loud that he
wondered if your neighbors could hear you, but it only provoked Hoseok more.

“Scream for me, peaches,” he cooed, his fingers unrelenting and when you bit back a moan, pussy
leaking with cum, he lapped on it like a starving man.

Hoseok’s tongue drove you even wilder, you pulled him up to you as fast as you could. “Come
here. I need you inside me. Fuck me now,” you begged, eyes hooded with lust, “I-I need your
cock.”
“But, but Peaches—”

He was so tempted to fuck you with haste, but he needed to know. He needed to hear it from you
loud and clear.

“I’m not fucking drunk,” you whined, lips reaching for his neck aggressively but he gripped both
your wrist forcefully, stopping you.

“Tell me you want this. That you won’t regret this when you wake up tomorrow.”

“Hoseok,” you breathed, eyes meeting his gaze. “Your cock is the only thing I want. Please—!”

Legs wrapped around his torso, Hoseok thrusted his cock inside you; your pussy so wet that he slid
in all the way in one hard push that made you cry out—so loud like it was the first time for you.

Feeling your tight velvety walls once again and seeing you wear nothing but his shirt had him
aroused and now he couldn’t stop fucking you, his hips bucking, his fat cock penetrating you
repeatedly.

“S-slowly,” you whispered in his ear, your hands on his waist, trying to hold him back. That only
made him want to fuck you faster, he was insatiable—hungry for you—but he stopped, letting you
adjust.

Wishing he had been more patient, Hoseok withdrew, sliding back and forth in your pussy lips
instead, gently pulling back and pressing forward, innocently rubbing your sexes together.

“Oh god!” you gasped, his cock barely poking into you.

Hoseok pushed in a little bit and then pulled back. Getting up on his elbows, he stared at you and
kissed you.

Lost in his warmth, you kissed back and this time there was certainty in your kiss.

Looking into your eyes, he dove back into your pussy and saw you grimaced with discomfort,
making him stop momentarily again.

“You okay?”

Your mouth agape, but no words came out, you just nodded. “It’s been a while.”

His thumb brushing your cheek so lovingly, he pulled out, asking, “When was the last time?”

Before you could answer, he gave you a deep thrust, earning another sensual moan—your reaction
from head to toe. He couldn’t help it, the greediness to feel you taking over him.

Biting on your lips, you answered, “W-when Jimin was fucking my pussy while I was licking
Namjoon’s balls. And oh, while Kookie was sucking my ass.”

The too-much-information has Hoseok groaning, recalling that he even had the video of that exact
same group sex—the very last one before you broke up.

“Fuck, peaches. It’s been that long?” his voice filled with surprise and tension, his hips resuming
to fuck you slowly and deeply until you relaxed. “No wonder you’re this fucking tight.”

Your pussy was heaven for him, wonderfully snug yet opening up and welcoming him; his cock
trying its hardest to get as deep as possible like how you preferred back then. Hoseok wanted to
own you again in all the possible ways he could.

Your nails dug on his back while his cock pierced your pussy, moans echoing as you let go of all
your inhibitions and let your bodies be pleasured.

It was a series of orgasms, a blur of fucking for hours and hours but after all that, you both settled
to cuddle; his hand was playing with your hair, his chest being used as your head’s pillow when he
bravely raised, “Do you ever regret letting me go?” his voice wrapped with sadness, “—
letting us go?”

Despite your eyes closed, you hummed, “There’s never a day I never thought about it.”

And all of a sudden, he was crying and so were you; the conversation shifting to serious matters
and then it’s as if you’re patching things up.

Few more minutes of baring one’s heart to each other and he took his silver ring off and put it on
your middle finger instead.

“Here’s something to remind you of your promise,” he said. “Go to sleep, peaches. We’ll continue
this talk when we wake up tomorrow.”

You were embracing him so tightly, trying to fight the drowsiness reigning over you but the
alcohol took effect and your soft snores coaxed you to oblivion.

EARLY MORNING

Seeing you sound asleep beside him brightened up his day instantly, making Hoseok get up to
prepare breakfast for you. He hopped enthusiastically, feeling light and grateful for the talk you
had last night.

He still wasn’t acquainted much to your place, so he only tried to make you a hot chocolate and a
simple french toast when suddenly he received a call from work. “Hey, what’s up?” he greeted,
even humming a little as he stirred your chocolate drink.

“Hoseok, remember our pervert customer?” his boss asked, and immediately, he stiffened.

“Yeah, what about him?”

“Wasn’t he hitting on a friend of yours last night?”

Distracted by the topic, Hoseok halted making breakfast and attentively answered, “Yeah, but my
friend didn’t seem to like him at all so I dropped her off her place instead. Why?”

A sigh of relief was heard from the other line. “Good thing then! We just heard some news. A
customer might file a lawsuit, she’s saying the guy drugs women in the bar. He’s said to be putting
something in women’s drinks and that’s how he takes women home.”

Jaws clenching, Hoseok gritted, “What?”

“Good thing you found your friend. She might be drugged if she passed out too quickly.”

His heart thumped so loud that he couldn’t hear anything his boss was saying; all the conversations
between you last night flashing in his mind.

“Our breakup was so sudden that I think I didn’t have the chance to tell you how lucky
I am to have you in my life or just to be a part of yours. You have no idea how much
you made me feel,” Hoseok finally admitted, his hand rubbing your back gently as he
continued.

“I’m sorry if I failed as a boyfriend. If I failed to make you happy or to assure you that
everything will be okay. How I wish I could go back to that moment and never let you
leave . . .” he trailed off with a sigh, “But I couldn’t make you stay if you wanted to
go.”

It was such a hard pill to swallow but he continued, “And maybe everyone needed to
go through the break up. Maybe we needed it to help us appreciate the next chance
we’ll have.”

Silence engulfed the room, but a few moments later, he spoke again, “God, I miss you
all the time.”

Your eyes might’ve been shut, but he knew you were listening. He could feel his chest
getting damped by your tears which he tried to ignore.

“When you left, you took something with you,” he said, “that’s probably my
happiness, peaches.”

“I’m not blaming you for anything. But fuck I just remembered how scared I was
without you, how broken I felt,” his voice shaked, lips trembling that he had to stop
talking or else he’d burst into tears. “Fuck, why does it still hurt?” he jested, wiping his
eyes and heaving an exhale to not let it get to him.

“But I figured . . . maybe, the whole poly relationship was weighing you down. And I
always knew you were meant for something bigger. That maybe you losing us . . . was
something inevitable for you to find out what you’re actually looking for.”

“Hoseok,” you breathed, but he didn’t let you speak much.

“I don’t know what the future holds, but when you left, it was like a wake-up call, that
maybe we’re bound to walk on different paths. And so I let go, letting myself lose
you.” He couldn’t hold it in anymore, tears running down his eyes as he sobbed.
“We’re like lost souls waiting for that eureka moment. But when we finally find the
right path, I hope we could still walk on it together?”

He turned to you, cupping your cheek as he waited for your answer but the only thing
he heard was sobs from you too.

Trying to console you, he kissed your tears away. “Don’t worry. If that’s too much to
ask, maybe I’ll just be right behind you, waiting for you to turn around. And maybe if
I get lucky, we’ll go home together?”

Suddenly, you hugged him tightly, whispering something in his ear as you teared up.

“What?” Hoseok chuckled at your silly idea. Either you’re too sleepy, too drunk or
just plain crazy.

You insisted that you just love him that much and so you promised him that you’ll
repeat those exact words the morning after when you’re sober and in your right mind.

He then gave you his ring to remind you of it and kissed you goodnight, excited for
the morning after.
Hoseok almost thought there’s something that could’ve been done to reconcile but realizing that
you’ve just been drugged is like a dagger stabbing his heart repeatedly.

{BGM: That’s Us—Anson Seabra}

So all those tears, all those emotions, all those heartfelt words . . . What does that make of it when
you just happened to be drugged the whole time?

All those things you said, your promises even—all of it so goddamn good to be true, now null and
voided at the news he heard.

His knees weaken, disappointment and frustration engulfing him all at once that he crouched down
the floor, staring blankly in space as things sunk in deeper.

He should’ve known. You didn’t seem yourself the moment he stepped forward in the bar.

He should’ve left the moment he had you laid on your bed. He shouldn’t have let anything happen
between you two in the first place.

But he was only human, he couldn’t help but fall for your seduction despite knowing that it may
not be right.

Ashamed. Afraid. Confused. Those are the three major things Hoseok felt about what happened.
Should he blame himself when you were the one seducing him? No matter how much he tried to
resist, he hated how he failed to stay level-headed. He should’ve kept his hands to himself.

No matter how much he missed you, he shouldn’t have longed to kiss your lips or to feel you
against him.

He shouldn’t but he did, and now he’s feeling like he’s the biggest jerk of all time.

Fuck. How will he face you now? How will he explain?

He felt so bad that he knew he couldn’t face you. Panic clouded him, the idea of you hating him
for what happened terrified him, thus resulting for him to leave without any second thoughts.

***

PRESENT

After having a breakfast of your own, you proceed to washing dishes when an unfamiliar ring
around your left middle finger distracts you.

Not the type of woman who fancied jewelries, you cock your head in confusion as you stare at it,
wondering how you ended up wearing one.

However, it doesn’t ring any bells. But then again, it suits you. Might as well keep it, you think to
yourself, thanking the stranger who might’ve given it to you.

A few minutes later . . .

Dying to take a bath, you go pick clothes from your cabinet but as you close it, the cabinet mirror
reflects something odd—you, wearing nothing but Hoseok’s shirt. Your favorite shirt of his that
you stole back then.

Your head tilts at that realization and shake your head, striding to the shower. “Damn, I should
totally put this shirt somewhere I can’t reach!” you say.

Again, you pass by the bathroom sink, another mirror distracting you once more.

Fragments of Hoseok pulling your hair back so he could whisper something dirty in your ear while
fucking you pops suddenly in your thoughts and you blush, cheeks red as a rose as your lewdest
dream surfaces once again.

It feels so real, his touch still lingering on your skin, but you shake your head in disapproval.

“Jeez, you gotta stop re-watching old videos of you and your exes on the bed,” you scold yourself,
having your own monologue as you argue, “—okay, some videos weren’t even on the bed, but so
what?”

***

After your shower, your doorbell rings, your eyes automatically searching for the
calendar. Wednesday.

Dragging your feet, you open it, expecting Jaebum with a box of pizza and a cake. And poof!
You’re right; the eye doctor smiling at you, hands full with what you prophesied.

“Hey!” he greets, scurrying to get inside your place without waiting for you to tell him.

Your friend always has this quick part time job every third Wednesday of the month nearby your
place, making him eventually stop by while you kept extorting food from him in exchange for a
place he could rest momentarily.

“My head hurts, gramps!” you whine, trailing after him like a puppy.

He lets out a snort, hands busy with preparing the food so you can both eat. “You’ve slept all day,
didn’t you?” he assumes, “Finally, a decent sleep for you. Told you the sedative tablet will work,
granny!”

“If you wanna wake up forgetting how handsome I am then go, let’s drink even though you just
took your sleeping medicines, woman!” Jaebum’s sarcastic joke and constant reminder
to never drink medicines and liquor concomitantly floats in your mind.

In a flash, you freeze, reminded that antihistamines didn’t seem effective for you, resulting in you
escalating your own medication yesterday to a sedative-hypnotic drug.

“Shit!” you bark, startling your friend.

Almost jumping out of his skin, Jaebum turns to you, “What?!”

“Uhm, well . . .” Your eyes drop down to your toes and he hums lowly, suspicious.

“Spill the tea, woman.”

“I . . . uhm, went out last night,” you voice barely loud for him to hear; you’re too guilty to even
look him in the eye.

“What?” His brows raised. “Last time I checked, we were talking on the phone, and you were
nagging about how you wish the tablet would work on you ASAP! How’d you—?”

“Yeah,” you cut in, zoning out as you realize how stupid you are in the first place, “probably the
reason why I couldn’t remember much about last night.”

A second after and you wipe an invisible sweat as if relieved. “Wew, I thought I turned into an
alcohol weakling. Turns out it’s just sedative tab—!”

“That wasn’t fucking safe!” Jaebum shouts venomously, his face red, eyes squinting meanly, his
voice with a hard edge.

The rage in his eyes so perceptible that it honestly scared you for a moment.

“I-I . . . uhm,” you gulp nervously, unsure what to say.

When he notices your anxiety, he exhales, apologizing for raising his voice and cussing in such a
manner. “Sorry about that. But you’re just so stupid sometimes.” He follows it with a shake of his
head and a roll of eyes.

It makes you laugh. He really does seem like a worried grandfather.

“Yeah. Agree.” You beam, hand reaching for pizza. “It’s a pity I didn’t remember who my one-
night-stand guy was. Who knows, maybe we could’ve hit it off?” you jest, grin turning wider and
wider; the both of you confiding to each other without reservations.

Groaning inwardly, Jaebum rolls his eyes at you again. “You’re driving me crazy,” he sighs, as if
his energy is drained.

“Oh, shush! We both know that drug is said to offer more than a night of super sleep,” you trail
off, lips curving into a sly grin—doctors always too smart to heed warnings of what to take and
what not to anyway, “I heard the drug can produce a haze of inhibition, making sex crazier, hotter,
and more erotic. But really, I didn’t think it’d work on me. I tried to sleep, eight hours after and it
still didn’t work which was why I decided to just get some fresh air.”

“At a bar?” he taunts, glaring.

“Stop changing the subject, Im Jaebum. Whatever happened, I’m sure I wanted it. I just couldn’t
remember,” you conclude, making attempts to recover any memory but fails. “Damn it. Why can’t
I remember?” you whine, pouting.

“It’s the hypnotic’s adverse effects, dummy. Of course, you won’t remember!”

Clicking your tongue, you sigh, “What if he’s hot and the man of my dreams?”

“Nah,” he dismisses light-heartedly. “Maybe he’s o l d a n d divorced. He’s probably a pervert

and crossed-eyed to make out with you.”

“Ya!”

“If he was a decent guy, he should’ve waited for you to wake up. Or left a note or whatsoever,”
Jaebum says nonchalantly. “He didn’t. It means he’s a jerk.”

Hissing, you debate, “Maybe he had an emergency,” unsure why you’re even defending a stranger.

“Maybe he heard you snoring or saw how ugly you were barefaced and left.”

You throw him a big frown, but he only flicks your forehead in response, making you yelp. “Stop
fantasizing or I’ll kick you out of your own place.”
Hissing, you make faces at his seemingly strict grandfather behavior.

“Don’t ever do it again,” he threatens despite reaching you a spoonful of cake, “I swear I’ll get
angry and won’t talk to you for the whole month.”

You let him feed you and chew a reply, “Yes, gramps . . . even though I’m sure you can’t get past
a week without talking to me, you clingy human.”

Bratty, Jaebum counters, “I’m serious. I’ll totally ignore you. Plus, no coffees. No sandwiches.”

With that threat, you purse your lips like a good girl. “I promise, gramps.”

A/N: As a healthcare provider, I strictly suggest that you do not, NEVER EVER, take
medications, especially sedatives, hypnotics, or sleeping meds, concomitantly with alcohol. Even
people taking antibiotics shouldn’t drink it together.

Please, do not self-medicate and do not recklessly use sedative-hypnotic drugs for sexual pleasures.
It is very much unsafe. The mentions of this drugs are purely for fictional use only. Don’t be
stupid. Iloveyou & I care.

Also, with the issues of AO3 and the app that had all our works used without any of our consent, I
think my works will be hidden or deleted in it, making Tumblr my only platform soon. THESIS IT
is available in this link, if you want to reread. I am really in two minds with this decision because
my AO3 readers have always been the enthusiastic ones who comment out with words the motivate
me, but yeah. :c
✁-----------------------------------

[INTERLOGUE]

The pervert guy from the bar is being interrogated.

“I’m asking you for the last time!” the prosecutor roars, “Do you drug women you meet in the
club?”

The man replies with exasperation, “For the last time as well, I do not! God, I’m just buying them
drinks and making pickup lines. That’s just that! I didn’t even get a chance to talk too long with the
woman I was with last night! Trust me!! They just fall for me and my antics.”

Upon receiving a few signed petitions, “Seemingly, the man is telling the truth. No drugs were
ever involved. Even his own family and friends are aware that he just awfully looks like someone
who drugged women cause if not, how could he get laid if they weren’t drugged?” the judge jests.

***

On the other hand, the unaware Hoseok is still out there, feeling guilty as fuck. Sad and
disheartened too. Until when will he feel this way? When will he ever forgive himself? When will
he ever move on?

And in this chapter, lies two stupid people clueless that they made love—real love even.

To be continued.
.

(Okay, fine! I know ya’ll be mad if I ended it that way so here!)

THREE DAYS AFTER

Hoseok is informed about the wrong accusation towards the customer in the bar. Sure, he’s
relieved to know that you really weren’t drugged, his guilt all cleared . . . but he can’t help but still
get his heart broken.

If you weren’t drugged, then why are you still not contacting or visiting him? You promised so
many things and you aren’t the type of person who forgets things even when you’re tipsy.

Sighing heavily, he can’t help but over analyze. Maybe you just woke up and realized that it really
was a silly idea like how he told you. Maybe what happened that night was really just a one-time-
thing, a birthday sex because you were just feeling kind so you let him have a taste of you again.
Maybe you regretted it. Or maybe it didn’t mean a thing because you’ve actually moved on.

Maybe he should move on too?

Maybe.

To be continued. For real.

✁-----------------------------------

PS: How ya feel? Come here, you! Ima hug you. It will all pass, okay? Trust me? Feel free to flood
me with your thoughts or curses or critics or whatever. I’m all ears.

&yes, I’ve thought about this chapter plot so much. The amount of certainty is definitely enormous
here, but yes, this is still a risky chapter to make. So if you’re offended and turned off, okay. Feel
free to drop this fic from your reading list. I’m sorry for the wasted time. ;)
 nicotine
Chapter Notes

NSFW, 18+, t e n s i o n, fluff, drunk shenanigans, jealousy, lewd words, oral, one-
night-stands, dom/sub themes, mild exhibitionism, spitting, edging,
masturbation, mentions of cheating, smoking, little angst [?]

⌦ A/N: Here comes trouble! A big train of messy paragraphs waiting for ya’ll. &
song recommendations jumped out--really, they sound good, listen to them if you have
time! ;)

[F.U.C.K.] NICOTINE is both a sedative and a stimulant. It can cause an increase in blood
pressure, heart rate. It may also contribute to the hardening of the arterial walls, which in turn, may
lead to a heart attack.

Why Nicotine? We wonder if the breakup had their hearts hardening like stone. And if not, some
things might make your heart clench. T.T

Doing a double take as you walk into the hospital grounds, your jaws drop the whole nine yards
when you see a familiar person sucking faces with your co-employee in the lounge.

In all honesty, you don’t care about your co-employee at all. What bothers you is that . . . the
person kissing him is not just any ordinary woman.
But she’s none other than Kim Taehyung’s woman.

That fox has the audacity to cheat on Taehyung?! Your hands ball into fists. Your ex-boyfriend
Taehyung who’s sweet and caring and loving and—

Striding quickly to hide, you head across another corner to spy on her further but when you turn to
the other side; you spot Taehyung who’s carrying a bouquet of roses heading your way, probably
off to see his girl.

Shit.

If Jungkook hadn’t mentioned before that Tae has been working as a medical representative for a
year already, you would’ve been surprised to see him in your hospital so often. But that’s not
what’s important right now, is it?

What matters is your decision, what you’d do. Will you tell him? For old times’ sake? It’s not like
he’s a complete stranger to you, right?

Once upon a time, you shared an amazing friendship with this man that the guilt inside you
consumes you.

Your body processing the situation quicker than your mind, and there you are, blocking Taehyung
from what he’s about to see and making stupid excuses to buy time.

“Tae, did you get your hair dyed?” you ask out of the blue, a little jittery.

Creases forming on his forehead, he reaches for his hair, trying to look at it. “It’s black. As far as I
remember, that’s my natural color,” he says dismissively before trying to brush past you.

Okay, that stupid question obviously didn’t work on him, so you also firmly step to right, blocking
him again.

“Oh right!” you squeak, flailing your hands in the air as if you yield. “That’s a lame question. What
I meant was, which brand of dye did you use back—?”

His lips in a tight line, Taehyung just blinks at you. “I’m kinda in a rush now, doc. My girlfriend’s
waiting for me.” He tries to brush past you again but you grab his wrist, knowing that you aren’t
fond of beating around the bush.

“Tae,” you plead, feeling apologetic for what he’s about to know.

He’s been the perfect boyfriend and right now, you just can’t bear to witness how his heart gets
broken again. Poor Taehyung.

You shake your head, hinting that he shouldn’t go.

“What?” he replies, dark brows knotting in confusion. “What are you—?”

“Tae, she’s cheating on you.”

For a few moments, no one says a word; the two of you just staring back at each other with
opposing expressions.

And then later on, Taehyung snorts, his lips curling in a sarcastic half-smile. “What are you trying
to say?”
“I said what I said. She’s—”

“Do you still have hang-ups on me?” he hurls back, cutting you mid-sentence with the rudest tone.

Frozen in place, your brows rise in disbelief. What did he just say?

Before you could react, he scoffs again, “I’m sorry but you just sound like you haven’t moved on. I
don’t think you should use my girlfriend as an excuse to—”

“Excuse me?!” you snap at him, wincing at the conceitedness he possesses when suddenly . . .

“Darling!”

His girlfriend squeaks, suddenly having hearts in her eyes as she runs towards Taehyung for a hug.

“You’re excused,” he taunts back at you lowly before ignoring you and walking away with his
woman.

Chagrined. You’ve never been this chagrined before.

If only you knew that he’d act this way, you wouldn’t have empathized towards him and just let
him be humiliated on his own.

***

“Maybe you still do have hang-ups on him!” Jaebum erupts in a thunderous laughter as he chugs
his beer, receiving another set of rolling eyes from you.

The ophthalmologist just can’t help but make fun of you and your ex-stories from time to time.

With Taehyung getting on your nerves and feeling like you’ve been missing out on a lot of drinking
lately, you decide that you should strengthen your alcohol tolerance back to how it was back then,
resulting for you to drag a friend—the only free friend tonight which happens to be Im Jaebum—to
drink up.

“Hey, I don’t do hangups. You know that,” you spit bitterly that you end up talking in a pout, and
Jaebum laughs harder; his laughter so contagious that the bartender in front of you starts chuckling
softly too.

“Okay, okay,” he coos, tone soft as if trying to console you, “But that guy has some guts.”

Indeed, Taehyung has always been straightforward—if not, naive—and that thought has you
cheesed off once again.

You drink up until you see Jaebum’s eye smile. “What is it now?”

Suddenly, he leans towards you, whispering, “Your Mr. Hang-ups happens to drop by this place
too.”

Instinctively, you glance over your shoulder to check and when you see a handsome Taehyung in a
suit and tie sauntering across the bar alone, you turn away, the anger boiling inside you again.

Groaning inwardly, you finish your drink in one gulp, nose fuming in silence.

Jaebum cackles at how pissed off you are and you start displacing the annoyance towards him.
With a glare, you bark, “Ya, stop laughing before I kick your ass.”
Pulling his lips in a tight line, he nods, letting you have your peace—for a few seconds, that is.

“D’you wanna get back at him for humiliating you?”

His mischievous idea knocks on your door. “W-what?” You stare at your friend with confused eyes
and he smiles.

If there’s one thing Jaebum values the most—it’s his friends. He hates seeing them frustrated and
so . . . “Do you trust me?”

Of course, you trust him. Why would he be your eye doctor if you don’t?

Taking your silence as a yes, “Follow my instructions,” he says knowingly, “We’ll ‘lick your
wounds’ and avenge you.”

“This better be good,” you threaten yet straighten up, ready for his orders.

Again, he leans close to you, discreetly whispering the plan in spite of the blaring sounds inside the
bar, “The moment he looks this way, I’ll place my hand on your waist, so don’t be startled. Act
natural and keep smiling at me, okay?”

Immediately, you flash a fake ass smile at him, nose scrunching and cheekbones so high that the
both of you can’t help but cackle at how ridiculous you look like.

“Yeah, those kinds of smiles,” he taunts comically before signaling. “Now.”

The plan begins, his hand platonically finding its way to your waist and you can’t help but cringe a
little.

But then sitting by the bar counter might just be an advantage for you, your back against the crowd,
Jaebum turning slightly to the side for lookout just as he schemed.

He steals a quick glance at Taehyung and informs you of the next fake flirting move. “Ears,” he
mutters, “When was the last fucking time you cleaned your ears?”

His stupid question has you hitting his arm once again and he laughs in return. “I’m serious. Cause
I’m moving towards it. Act like I’m whispering flirty stuff and go giggle, woman.”

How can he be so technical with this? You groan, eyes rolling discreetly but nevertheless you
comply.

You force a giggle which sounds so awful that you both laugh at it again, his eyes disappearing
into those familiar crescents as he instructs, “Now I’m gonna move down slowly, don’t be
surprised.”

How will you be surprised if he’s freaking telling everything he’s gonna do?

“I’m gonna approach your neck,” he shares, his nose almost nuzzling you when he whispers
comically, “Oh, wow. I’m the one surprised. Smells like teen spirit, granny. I’m guessing the last
shower you had was when I got hired at work.”

Keeping in mind that Jaebum has been employed for two years already, you dissolve in another
loud laughter at his silly puns when suddenly a baritone voice interrupts, “Excuse me. Can I
borrow your, er, lady friend right now?”

Jaebum and you shift your attention to the man behind, only to find Taehyung stoically waiting.
Pulling away from you, your friend looks at you, anticipating how you want to act out.

The last thing you want is to look bitter, so you flash an unbothered smile at Taehyung, asking,
“What’s up?”

“Was it fun knowing that she’s cheating on me?”

His bluntness has you frozen in place. Wow, took him long enough, you think but suddenly you feel
bad for him. Caught off guard, you reply with the first thing in your mind, “I tried to tell you but
—”

“But what?” he cuts you off, eyes piercing right through you and you don’t even get the reason
why he’s displacing his anger towards you.

“Weren’t you the one who said I had hang-ups on you?” you spit casually, a half smile curved in
your lips as you remind him.

His sharp eyes drift to Jaebum and then back to you. “Let’s talk,” he demands, hand pulling you by
the wrist without warning.

Suddenly, it’s Jaebum’s hand that stops him. “Dude,” his voice strict, laced with threat and warning
while they meet each other’s fiery gazes.

“What’s the problem?” Taehyung answers back with a sarcastic laugh. “If she honestly has no
hang-ups anymore, she’ll talk to me like usual, right?”

Your ex-boyfriend looks at you with a smug smirk painted on his face as he waits for your
response.

Exchanging glances with your friend, you reassure him softly, “I’ll talk to him, gramps. No big
deal.”

With that, Taehyung with clenched jaws looks at Jaebum’s hand around his, hinting for him to let
go as per your reply and he does.

Jaebum flashes a calm smile at you. “Okay, granny. Have fun. I’ll wait for—”

“Apparently, your ‘granny’ might have a long talking session with me. So I suggest you don’t wait
for her,” Taehyung raises, earning a soft sarcastic snort from your eye doctor.

Reposed and pleased at how your plan of getting back at Taehyung seems to work, Jaebum ignores
the younger and asks you, “Am I still driving you back to your place or—?”

A cheeky smile emerges on your lips, feeling the victory in your hands. “Nope. It’s fine. You can
head out earlier, Jaebumie. I’ll stay here and talk cause I don’t want certain people thinking I have
lingering hang-ups.”

“Cool!” Taehyung fakes amusement before dragging you away from your friend and into his seat
from across the place.

.
“What are we gonna talk about?” you huff, almost stumbling as you follow him, his hand tight on
your wrist.

Taehyung shoves you down to sit on the couch and scrooches after to settle beside you.
Manhandled, you look at him with disbelief but before you can argue, he utters lowly, his eyes
glued on the alcohol served on the table, “Drink with me.”

Appalled, you stare at him, mouth opening and closing as you try to come up with words but fail.

He takes the bottle and pours one for himself before serving you one as well.

It’s rare—Taehyung getting involved with alcohol since he was always one of the weak drinkers
back then. You know he only drinks whenever he’s upset about something, thus making you
empathize with his current situation; being cheated on is never a fun experience.

His drink doesn’t last long, glass after glass, he’d fill it up and gulp it down—without even wincing
—as if it’s water; the annoyance you feel for him slowly dissipates as you take in his somber
expression. He must really be frustrated.

Your phone vibrates, Jaebum hitting you a message:

U sure he won’t notice the hang-ups u still have for him?

Instantly, your eyes shift to the bar counter where you left Jaebum and see him grinning back at
you.

This annoying friend never fails to make you roll your eyes. You’re about to type in a reply when
he beats you to it.

I’m kidding. hahahahaha. U really letting me off the hook early tonight? no
blaming me if u find it difficult to get a cab!

A soft chuckle escapes you, grateful that you went with him tonight. The scheme of ‘licking your
wounds’ which he came up with has effectively brought your stepped on ego back to normal.

<You’re off the hook! Thanks for everythiiiing~! I’ll figure out how to get a cab, don’t
worry. and yes i will buy you coffee for a week because of this success. goodnight!>

After hitting send, your phone gets snatched by Taehyung, only to place it on the table as he
reproaches you, “You haven’t even finished a glass. And can you stop smiling when you’re with
someone broken? At least pretend to empathize.”

Tongue poking the inside of your cheek, you scowl at his rudeness but then again, you partly know
that it’s the alcohol kicking in him.

With a lifeless sigh, you try to be patient and brush it off by showing him how you drink your
glass-full liquor in one go. “Happy?” you taunt.

And then he fills your glass with more.

You’re about to drink up when he shares, “Damn, I thought she was the one.”

You halt, suddenly feeling a tinge of heartbreak at his words. The one.

A thick lump forms in your throat at that word. You used to be ‘the one’ too, but what does that
make of you now?

Immediately, you down the drink you’re holding in one gulp. It’s weird, hearing him use those
familiar words to describe someone else. Someone who’s not you.

But it’s been so long that you grasp the idea that he’s moved on from you and that it shouldn’t
bother you anymore.

Taehyung orders for another bottle, drowning himself without second thoughts as he rants about
how much his world revolves around the girl.

Never have you imagined that the time would come where you’ll comfort him because of someone
else but here you are, just sitting and drinking and listening silently at the same time.

Half an hour later and Taehyung tipsily gets on his feet at the sight of a waiter approaching with
more bottles of liquor.

O-oh! Here comes trouble.

You click your tongue and as if on cue, he greets the waiter loudly, grabbing everyone’s attention.
Instantly, you pull him back, reproaching, “Taehyung, can you please stop it?”

As killjoy as you look like, you scowl, taking away his bottles as if he’s an underage sneaking
without permission.

“Doll, I need this, please.”

He reaches for his liquor with a frown and you see genuine pain in his eyes, his playboy ego
broken by his cheating girlfriend that you inevitably feel pity for him and anger towards her.

You can’t resist his pout and so you let him have this moment, knowing how hurt he must feel
inside. With a sigh, you just let him do whatever he wants, just accompanying him while he lets out
his repetitive rants about his woman.

It’s so annoying to hear but you keep it inside and try to be a friend. But after another round of
bottle, he’s almost passing out beside you yet insists on ordering for more.

He looks so fucked out; from time to time you can hear his guttural moans, his brows knitted as if
he’s pained, his eyes barely able to stay open.

Boy, you hate how he can still appear so alluring in that kind of state but you know you shouldn’t
linger on such thoughts.

“Hey, are you okay?”

But he doesn’t answer and you groan inwardly. God, you feel like a babysitter, cursing him and
trying to talk him into going home.

“Tae, I’ll book you a cab,” you mutter, gently tapping his cheek while his head rests on your
shoulder. “Tae,” you call for him again but he only groans as if you’re disturbing his sleep.
“You’re such a headache as always,” you grunt, irritated by the fact that you can’t just leave him
like this.

And even if you book him a cab, he’ll never make it to his front door with his state.

“Tae, where do you stay?” you ask, and he gives you his address.

A few moments after . . .

The drive to his place is peaceful, you and him on the backseat, your shoulder still being used as
his pillow while you softly stroke his hair—a habit of yours whenever he got drunk beside you.

Through the rear view mirror, you see the cab driver’s smile. “Your husband seems to be sleeping
so soundly, ma’am.”

Cheeks blushing, you’re tongue-tied and embarrassed that you immediately detach your hand from
his hair as if burned, cautious not to get attached. “He’s just a stupid friend, sir,” you cough and the
driver apologizes for misunderstanding.

When you arrive at the building, the walk to his place has become a challenge with how unstable
he is. You have to grab him close, wrapping his arm around your neck just so you can have him
walking upright.

“God, Taehyung! This is torture!” you whine, dragging him inside his room.

The moment you see his bed, you quicken your pace, his weight too heavy that you make attempts
to just throw him there but you fail. With his arm still slinged around your shoulder, you fall with
him. Above him, to be exact.

With the sudden fall, your bodies bounce along the mattress and you gulp down nervously,
brushing off the flashbacks of those times you jumped on the bed together like this; you on top of
Taehyung and insatiably trying to get him naked.

Moistening your lips, you try to snap out from lewd thoughts when you suddenly feel his hands
snake down your ass, giving it a squeeze.

“Tae!” you scold and he withdraws his big hands with a hiss.

“You sound just like her,” he whines softly, making you wince at how desperate he sounds. As an
ex-girlfriend, you feel disrespected; it downright puts your nose out of joint.

Truly, nobody can piss you off like Taehyung does; you swear he hits a different type of nerve
inside you—you hate it.

But then it doesn’t stop there. With his arms abruptly wrapped around you, you can’t remove
yourself from him, making you growl, “Taehyung, let me go and please just go to sleep!”

You squirm, hoping it’ll help you untangle yourself from him but it’s all in vain.

“D-do you think I can have one kiss?” he slurs, tightening his grip on your waist.

“Are you insane?!?” you cough, refusing to let him get under your skin. You can’t lose to this
troublesome and ungodly handsome man. No, you can’t fall for him again

“Come to think of it . . .” Eyes heavily shut, he mumbles, “you never gave us closure.”
Your mouth dries up at his insight.

“Maybe I’ll find closure on your lips and then I’ll go to sleep,” he adds, his lips chasing for yours
but you flinch away.

“Tae, you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“Yes, you are.” Your hands rest above his chest, continuing to put a decent amount of distance
between you two.

“I’m not,” he sternly says, anime eyes now staring back at yours courageously. “You’re just
making up excuses because you’re scared.”

At a loss for words, your jaws clench, you gaze averting at his assumption.

“Doll, it’s been four years. What’s a measly kiss compared to that? I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt.
Cause you already hurt us at its finest when you left.”

It may seem that he’s not making any sense but you knew Taehyung like the back of your hand. He
wants you guilty, that’s for sure and he succeeds with it, the day you left them flashing in your
mind again, your eyes turning into the saddest pair.

He gently tilts your chin back to face him. “Tell me honestly, you still do have hang-ups for me—
for us.”

Your mouth stiffens and you answer through gritted teeth, “Shut up, Tae. I already told you. I’ve
moved on.”

“Then prove it. Kiss me.”

{BGM: Unkiss Me—Maroon5}

His deep voice challenging you is too tempting that you just wanna get it over with, so you yield,
telling yourself that a kiss absolutely does not mean anything.

Leaning down, your lips reach for his in hopes that perhaps having the chance to kiss Taehyung
again would make you realize that he really is nothing special anymore. Perhaps kissing him again
would confirm that all your feelings are now gone.

You won’t know if you won’t try, you convince yourself while the distance between you disappears,
your lips pressing on his in a subtlest manner.

For a few heartbeats, you don’t dare move, just savoring the feeling of your lips innocently
touching for the first time after such long years of being parted from one another.

It’s calm—a little too ordinary even—that you can’t help but congratulate yourself for actually
doing it with not much feelings involved anymore.

No overwhelmed racing of hearts, no butterflies in the stomach—nothing at all. Perhaps, you’ve

really moved on.

You pull away from the soft peck, triumph taking over you when Taehyung whose long dark
fringes partly cover his eyes suddenly taunts in a hushed tone, “Make me forget about her.”
The doubt about you truly moving on vanishes into thin air and it’s replaced by vexation real
quick. Did this fucking jerk just ask you to kiss him while having someone else in mind?!

Letting out an insulted snort, you can’t believe how he’s blatantly asking you for such favor. And
what’s more ridiculous is how you can’t help but be cheesed off with the way he acts around you
so casually—as if he’s very much moved on and you’re just some ordinary girl he used to date
back then while you’ve been so stupidly cautious around him from the start.

You hate how this new girl has him this broken. You hate how you see him like this. And more
importantly, you hate feeling jealous because you know you shouldn’t be feeling it anymore.

Your inner demon triggered, your eyes narrow at him and you dive in. Forget about the innocent
and petty kisses! Never have you been this determined to bring him hell.

Screw him for recovering from you quicker than you expected!

Tonight, you’ll give what he asks for and make Kim Taehyung forget some girl while discreetly
reminding him why he fell for you in the first place.

With that first peck where you’ve tested yourself and gambled successfully, you’re now certain that
nothing could go wrong. Except for annoyance, you don’t feel anything for this man.

The span of years being away with him seems to be enough to have you completely over him. You
don’t want him anymore, you believe.

You just hate him and his conceited ass needs to be taught a lesson.

Resolute, you give him the real deal—the kisses with depth and passion, so fiery it’ll burn him and
his arrogance down. Your lips mash against his before you part his mouth using your wet tongue
and he groans.

It’s a move that has his hold tightening around you, his big hand crawling at the back of your head
as he pulls you closer to him as if he can’t get enough.

You kiss him hard, vowing that this will be the last time your lips would clash with each
other. This is goodbye for real.

Your lips suck on him, tugging his lower lips only to vividly recall the sweet kisses you’ve shared
together, the intimate act somehow bringing a lot of memories which you shouldn’t be revisiting at
this moment.

If a goodbye kiss is what you planned for, then you should do your part and force yourself to
completely erase every bit of lingering feelings you have left for him.

You say it’s the last time, assuming that you’ll forget about Taehyung afterwards but you foolishly
fail to notice that the more you remind yourself it’s the last, the more you never want to stop.

The tables suddenly turn.

There’s something inside you egging you to just do what you want, so you just concede that
perhaps overdosing yourself with the taste of him could be an advantage for you. You let yourself
indulge, promising that after this night, you won’t ever miss his lips again.

You continue to latch on his mouth, reviving the memories of all other previous kisses for the last
time and erasing it in your mind thereafter. What a plan.
Lying meekly under you, Taehyung just lets you do whatever you want to. But a few moments later
and he cups your face, kissing back and boy do his kisses still feel divine.

Your eyes shutting closed at the brush of his lips, the sweetness of his tongue. This time, he
reciprocates your kisses, even sucking on yours harder that it only makes you desperate, having
you wish that making out with him can magically turn back time—reverse it even.

If only you can rewind everything and not get hurt; the kind of regret that has you thinking that you
wish it never happened—you wish you never fell for Taehyung or to any of them that deep;
perhaps it’d be the greatest solution.

But this is the real world. No matter how you convince yourself that his kisses won’t mean
anything, you can’t help it, his lips swaying you to just keep kissing him back.

Suddenly, you’re like magnets, pulling onto each other, hungry and dying to have more taste of
what you’ve both missed.

Thank god it’s Taehyung who pulls away, snapping you out from your lust for a moment before . .
. O-oh! He dives back in, on your neck this time—knowing that your resistance will automatically
crumble when you feel him peppering kisses down the column of your nape.

Ablaze, desire consumes both of you and you realize how much you’ve put yourself in a critical
position.

Right now, you’re wishing that his soft lips could magically unkiss all the parts of your body that
had been once addicted to him.

He sinks his teeth above your collarbone, earning a groan from you before laving it with his wet
tongue, reversing it back up to nibble on your ear.

“Ah, Tae!”

He growls, “Fuck, I miss this!” his hand quickly making its way to fondle your breast and you
grow weak.

It’s saddening how you still react with pleasure that you wish he’d just untouch your skin so
somehow all the excitement you felt and is still feeling whenever his hands brush against you
would miraculously fade away.

Taehyung kisses you again and you sigh in defeat.

His delicate hands push your shirt above your chest and he goes for it, his mouth wrapping around
a nipple while his fingers playfully tweak the other.

You’ve never been this desperate before, wishing that it’d be possible for him to untake your heart
which has been broken, replacing it with the original one you once owned before meeting and
falling for him.

“Taehyung, please,” you bite back a moan, hating yourself for being so stupid to think that you can
resist this human. You miss him. And no amount of kissing could desensitize the feeling you have
for him.

Seemingly, you’re just like a moth to a flame that made attempts to prove that orbiting around
Taehyung won’t affect you anymore; a moth that had its illusion that touching someone as hot as
him wouldn’t get you burned but his touch lights up a wildfire within you.
You know you want him and you realize that you can’t play games with someone who’s always
been a player from the start.

He rolls his tongue around your nipples, insatiable, alternating between your breasts, making your
head swim in endorphins.

You submit, sick and tired of depriving yourself of the pleasure you deserve. Crawling south, you
pull down his zipper and grab his big hard cock like a thirsty bitch on heat.

“Baby—!”

Your wet tongue flicks his underside, earning a loud groan from Taehyung. “Shit, doll. I miss you
so fucking much.”

It only takes a matter of licking him wet before you start sucking his head like crazy and this time,
you’re not even sure why you’re doing this. Bobbing your head up and down, you work his dick
expertly with your lips, stroking the part which can’t fit your mouth.

You’ve got so carried away with his cock that you let his hands lift off your shirt, your pants and
underwear following thereafter and then Taehyung’s pulling you back into his embrace, seemingly
not wanting to come, not yet.

He loosens his necktie cause if not, he’ll probably choke at how hot you are and die before he has
the chance to own you; the familiar feeling of his arms around you got you thinking about those
days when he was yours and you were his.

Now there’s only one desire and you both know it’s gonna happen tonight.

“Taehyung,” you breathe against his nape, knowing that it’s game over for you but you’re just too
stubborn to admit it.

He looks at you with dark eyes and again, thousands of memories flash before you—mostly the
naughty times, the out-of-this-world sex and everything in between.

Fuck, he can probably feel you dripping wet and it’s taking every bit of resistance for you to stay
still but he drags your torment further, massaging your breast lovingly, his tongue flicking against
your ear as he whispers, “Doll, ride my cock like how you always did.”

The word ‘cock’ makes you twitch, maybe because it’s been ages since you remember having one
inside you.

But you know what this is. You know what he’s proposing. For fucksake, you finished a
bachelor’s degree—you’re now a licensed physician even. You are not stupid.

Kim Taehyung is downright asking for a rebound sex! You should go ballistic but in that same
exact moment, all you can word out is, “Condoms”.

And he’s quick enough to reach for one in his bedside table, his hand sheathing his cock with
protection while his tongue dances with yours.

It’s wrong, so wrong but here you are discreetly considering it.

As his sly tongue explores your mouth, his hands grip on your ass, and you rise, your slit finding
his cock and his hard cock easily slides into your pussy. And you moan together; goddamn the
sound of his heavy breathing just makes you wetter every second.
Immediately, Taehyung’s mouth finds its way back to your tits as you brace yourself to rise up and
down his cock. You bounce repeatedly, increasing the speed and taking more and more of his
cock.

Damnit! You’ll probably condemn yourself in the morning but it’s been so long since you had
someone this delicious under you and you probably deserve to unwind, though this isn’t the kind of
‘activity’ you originally had in mind.

“Fuck, doll!”

You unintentionally sit on him a little too deep this time that you can barely move, your head
falling on his shoulder and he helps you up, hands guiding your waist back to the rhythm as he
goads lovingly, “That’s it, baby. Keep fucking yourself on my cock.”

His eyes filled with need, his desperate voice is enough of a reward to have your energy revitalized.
In no time, you’re riding his cock amazingly, reaching back to grab his balls from between his legs
and rubbing it while you rock your hips. And there it is, his ungodly moans again, drawing another
smirk from you.

“I won’t stop fucking you until you forget about her,” you tease, your breasts jiggling in his face
but Taehyung only spanks your ass lightly.

“Don’t say such things,” he taunts sarcastically and you cock an eyebrow at him while you rub
your sex on his.

“Why?”

“You might take forever in fucking me if that’s the case?” he hurls back playfully and all your
previous thoughts stop in tracks.

This jerk.

Fuck, now you’re angry. So damn angry that you’ll surely fuck him good he’d regret it.

“Is that so?” you say through gritted teeth as you lean down to bite his lips—hard; you want him to
bleed as punishment.

Taehyung grunts in pain, pulling away with a soft chuckle. “Someone seems to go rough?” he says,
tone laced with amusement and you shut him up with another firm kiss.

Not wanting him to see through you, you choose to just step up your game, clenching your walls to
choke his cock on purpose while you grind up and down. “Is she a better lover than I, Taehyung-
ie?” you ask, lashes batting at him innocently while you suck your finger only to rub it on his
nipples.

He twitches, wetting his lips nervously at your tone. Your eyes were dark, a tinge of sadism in it
and he knows you’d screw him over with one wrong answer. With a gulp, he yields, “No baby. No
one can fuck me better than you do.”

A lazy smile curves in your lips for a second, but it disappears rather quickly, showing him how
unimpressed you are with his answer. It’s too late for his lies now.

Your hand reaches for his necktie, and without a warning, you pull away from him, straddling him
only to tie his hands up to his bed pole. “Doll—!”
“Shh. Shut up or I’ll leave you just like this,” your voice firm and venomous, your face no trace of
any consideration.

Taehyung knows that expression very well. Tongue poking the inside of his cheeks, he can’t help
but get excited. “You’ll dom me, baby? Are you sure about—”

Peeling off the measly rubber on his head, you forcefully grab his cock, your red tongue running
up and down the sides of his thick shaft; your eyes seductively glued to his as your lips wrap
tightly around his bulbous dick and he exhales, “Shit, baby!”

“I’ll fucking leave you if you come.”

Your warning hovers in the air and his whole body stiffens at that. Taehyung swallows a thick
lump, trying his best to obey while you give your best to break him down.

He moans in ecstasy, your mouth taking his length deep, your head bobbing—faster, harder, deeper
until his eyes squint in pain for holding back his climax.

Feeling kind, you rub his balls tenderly before pulling away from his cock with a loud pop. “Do
you let her suck you like this, Tae?” you whisper before you suck his balls while stroking his rock
hard and wet shaft.

He’s trembling, holding everything inside him as you ordered. “N-no, doll. She’s nothing
compared to you,” he chokes, and your muffled hum only makes him want to explode quicker.

And when you find him more helpless, you painfully sit just above his cock as you flash a shady
smile, staring at how agonizing it must be for him.

“Please. Let me come,” he pleads, his breathing ragged, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips
and you’re quick enough to suck his tongue, punishing him more with the lewd act.

Thereafter, you grab him by the jaw and demand, “Open.”

Like a slave, Taehyung does what you told him and without hesitation, you spit on his mouth just
like how he used to ask you to back then.

You’re driving him mad and wild, and you know it. You can feel it in the heat of his stares but you
brush it off, knowing that you have the upper hand. “Are you close, Taehyungie?” you ask,
rubbing your wet pussy on his tummy.

When he pliantly nods, you pull away from his cock, taking away all sorts of pleasure and just
spreading your legs wide for him to see.

His eyes widen with your movements. “Fuck, doll. What are you doing?”

He waged war and so you’ll give it to him. “Touching myself,” you say innocently, your fingers
playing with your clit while you let him watch how you masturbate for him. You want him to die
of envy at how you close your eyes, chasing your orgasm without any hindrance.

Your fingers dance around your clit idly before you insert one inside you with a moan; Taehyung’s
head falling back on the pillow at the sinful sight of you. He doesn’t want to look at you but then
again, he can’t resist watching you come undone with your own hands despite the torture of
holding back his own climax.

After minutes of clit playing, you whimper, eyes shutting close as you shudder your way to an
erupting orgasm. Your juices flowing out your pussy and you smirk, scooping it only to reach your
finger on his mouth.

Taehyung sucks on it. “Damn. You taste so sweet, baby. I want more.”

You give a lazy smile, only to say, “No.”

Biting on his lips due to frustration, he begs again, “Baby, please. I need to come. Please fuck me.”

You cock your head, feigning consideration as you hum, “I’m not sure, Tae.”

“I’ll do anything!” he bargains, his hands struggling to escape. It’s been so long since he felt this
desperate.

But you answer with another innocent yet sarcastic notion, “If I fuck you, you might think I have
hangups on you.” You pout, wanting to hear him say the words that’ll give you triumph.

“No, no!” Taehyung yields, shaking his head so badly. “You absolutely don’t have hangups on
me.”

You raise your brows at his seemingly genuine surrender and then he adds, voice lower than usual
and suddenly filled with somber, “Why would you? When I’m nothing compared to that Jaebum.”

A thick lump forms in your throat and it’s as if something tugs at your heartstrings. Honestly,
you’re taken aback, suddenly guilty even though you shouldn’t be in the first place. Now he’s the
one pouting, even averting his eyes as if hurt. And screw it, but you go soft for a sulking Taehyung
in a trice.

Instinctively, you reach for him, tilting his chin just to place a soft kiss on his lips. You kiss him
again and again, gently on the lips, wanting to erase whatever it is that bothers him without a word.

And pretty soon, you find yourself aligning his thick cock in your entrance. Merciful, you sit on
him again, your dripping pussy sliding up and down, the loud slapping sounds so deafening as your
ass hits against his thighs.

“Shit. This pussy will be the death of me,” he groans, watching you use him like a toy. When you
clench on him again, his whole body stiffens, and he beseeches painfully, “Doll, please. Untie me.
I’ll behave.”

The sound he releases is so satisfying that you somehow give in. But alas, the instant you loosen
his hands, the cunning motherfucker pounces on you all of a sudden and your back hits the bed, his
hand confiscating yours and pinning it above your head.

It all happen in a blur; your heart racing, pulsating loudly as you blink repeatedly, caught off guard.

“You minx,” Taehyung whispers lowly in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “How dare
you touch your clit without my permission?”

Without second thoughts, he penetrates inside you so deep that he instantly hits your G-spot,
earning loud whimpers from you. He then moves with fervor, fucking you senseless as promised.

“You even wanted my balls blue, huh? You sadist, beautiful woman. Just wait and see, I’m gonna
fuck you so bad you’ll be exhausted for days!”

Your walls tighten around him, making him grunt with pleasure, his hips snapping with an
animalistic rhythm that has you coming in no time. But he doesn’t care; he doesn’t stop, fucking
you through your orgasm because he vows that his dick will definitely wreck you tonight.

Lesson: Never trust Kim fucking Taehyung. He might look innocent sometimes but he’s a
manipulative genius deep down and you’ll foolishly let him fuck you all night.

Drained, you fall asleep in his arms and after a couple of hours, you wake up in the middle of the
night alone in his bed; your body a bit sore and still bare.

Eyes searching for Taehyung, you sit up and find him on the balcony across the room. It’s
surprising how quickly he seems to sober down, but then again, it’s been years, maybe some things
have changed.

But as you see him seemingly staring up at the dark sky, you smile. He loved looking at the moon,
he still does; maybe some things didn’t change after all?

Wanting to feel the fresh air too, you grab the blanket, wrapping it around you. Quietly, you head
to where he is, his back facing you as he gazes up the heavens, but you halt, startled with what you
witness further—Kim Taehyung lighting a cigarette.

“Smoking?” you hum nonchalantly, veiling the surprise you feel as you walk to his side, “Since
when?”

He glances at you, unbothered as he inhales the nicotine. “Four years ago?” he replies, exhaling a
little gray smoke, “Probably a month after the break up.”

{BGM: Spaces—Martti Franca}

A lump forms in your throat at his answer that the only thing you can do is look across the night
sky wordlessly.

“We’re all addicted to something that takes away the pain,” Taehyung adds further; his eyes glued
to the stars as figments—of how he started writing your name on cigarettes to light up and smoke
just so it’d give him the illusion that he’s somehow forgetting you little by little—emerge in the
back of his mind.

He believed that somehow the more the cigarette shrinked, the memories of you lessened the same
time. And in no time, he’s hooked to the satisfaction it gives him.

Again, he puts the cigarette between his lips, sucking the smoke gently with a long steady intake
into his lungs; his sad eyes telling far more stories than his lips could.

The loud silence hovers in the atmosphere and then he breathes out, ashing the cigarette stuck
between his long fingers.

Trying to break the awkward tension, you ask, “Did your girlfriend tolerate you smoking?”

A sarcastic snort is what you receive, followed by a comical scoff as he turns his gaze to you, “It’s
been so long and yet you still couldn’t talk about it?”
“Talk about what?” you speak despite the disinterest in your tone.

“The breakup.”

“Aren’t we conversing already?” you argue, insisting on playing innocent and averting the topic to
something else. “You’ve been babbling about your cheating woman for hours al—!”

“Our breakup,” Taehyung interrupts with a hiss and fakes a laugh, the damned day probably
reeling inside his mind like a movie. “Fucking fantastic kind of day!”

With frustration written all over his face, you know where this is going and it’s
definitely not something you want to hear so you sigh, choosing to head back inside the room
instead.

Turning your back on him, you take a few steps away when he taunts, his tone suddenly filled with
resentment, “You were too busy finding fault in the relationship while all we ever did
was overlook yours.”

Damn, his statement cuts you to the quick that you actually hear your heart crack, tears threatening
and forming behind your eyes. You stay rooted to the spot, fists turning white as you hold in
different emotions inside you; Taehyung busy inhaling and exhaling the smoke.

“Quit smoking,” is the only thing you come up with. “I have tons of patients dying on a daily basis.
Don’t add up to the number,” you bravely say in hopes that he won’t notice the loneliness that’s
starting to shroud you.

You take another step, only to stop when you hear him.

“People die anyway. What’s the big deal?”

Immediately, you glare at him over your shoulder, not pleased with his not-so-funny joke while his
gaze stays at the moon. “Taehyung,” you sternly reproach with narrow eyes. “I mean it.”

But he doesn’t seem to heed your advice. Instead, he lights up another stick with a satisfied smirk.

“Then make my lips busy if you want me to stop,” he scoffs, his tongue darting out to dampen his
lips as he reaches the cigarette closer to his mouth but before he could slip it between his lips you
abruptly stride to him, snatching and throwing his cigarette to the ground before diving on his lips
without warning.

Both your world stops.

{BGM: Tadow—Masego, FKJ}

Your arms wrap around his neck, his hands settling on your hips; the blanket around your naked
body slipping to the ground, both of you failing to notice because you’re too busy kissing.

Who were you kidding? ‘Goodbye kiss’ your ass. You knew how irresistible Taehyung was and
you’re foolish enough to actually think you’d have the willpower to stop yourself from wanting
more of him.

His lips are gentle on yours at first, but he slowly peppers kisses down to your neck and he sucks a
bruise, eliciting a moan from you. “You’re always such a brat,” he grunts and you can feel him
smirking against your skin.
Your fingers brushing through his soft hair, you let out a sigh. “Your point is?”

His lips linger on your ear, his hands fondling your breast.

“You’re my brat.”

Taehyung turns you and you gasp in surprise, your hands automatically holding on to the cold rail.

“I want you right here,” he murmurs, voice filled with superiority. “Right now.”

The sudden spank that hits your ass makes your body jolt closer to the rail but before your mind
registers the subtle pain, he’s already bending you over.

Indeed, he had let you have your ways with him earlier and now, his actions only imply that
it’s his turn. He doesn’t even care about the chances of being caught or seen by whoever is outside
the building. All that matters is that he wants to be inside you.

Another ruthless spank greets you; a wave of pleasure running through your whole existence as
Taehyung’s fingers dig on your waist. Your back arches, head falling back as you anticipate his
cock but Taehyung only chuckles darkly, seeing the moon reflecting in your eyes.

“I see,” he hums, teasing you a little more; his dick brushing up and down your hole but never
penetrating. “Do you wanna be fucked full tonight?”

When your response is a simple pursing of your lips, his cock head aligns at your entrance. And
with a push, you moan slightly and push back against him. “Ah! Tae,” you whimper, your nipples
stiff due to the cold night breeze as he fucks you from behind in the open space of his veranda.

Taehyung rams his shaft deep inside you over and over again and you yelp, whining needily as you
try to keep your balance.

“I’ve fucked you for hours but I don’t mind fucking you full with this hard cock all night.”

He doesn’t settle with just pounding you from behind; instead, he snakes his hand to rub at your
clit, the other playing with your nipple as he fucks you with a steady rhythm; both of you lost in the
moment.

To a great extent, you are in a shambles and Kim Taehyung is determined to screw you further.

***

The next day, you walk back into the ER station, ready for another day of looking into patients. It’s
all running smooth when you overheard a nurse asking another doctor, “Doc, should I take over
patient Kim Taehyung or should I just let the newly hired nurse him?”

Your ears instantly perk up. “Who? Who’s your patient?”

The nurse looks at you before rechecking the chart she’s holding. “Kim Taehyung, doc.”

Your heart beats erratic and suddenly you’re so worried that you march right up to the station
where the nurse is assigned. What could’ve happened to that—!?

The sight of Taehyung cupping someone’s face so close they might as well just kiss greets you.
And boy does that someone looks so familiar that you snort in disbelief.

Vexed as you recall how this asshole kept you all night, drinking and blabbing about how his
cheating girlfriend broke his heart, only for them to get back together like nothing fucking
happened, your tongue presses the inside of your cheek.

You didn’t stick up your nose to help him ‘forget’ about some bitch only to have him running back
to her like this; your ego and self-esteem not only stepped on, but also suddenly buried six feet
under.

Your hands ball into fists as you mentally kill him for his stupidity. It hasn’t even passed twenty-
four hours for him to forgive her just like that but who cares?! You don’t care. All you know is that
you need to go right in there and face him like it doesn’t bother you at all too.

Walking like a professional, you clear your throat, catching their attention; Taehyung’s eyes
widening at the sight of you while the girl just smiles and even starts chatting with you as if you’re
close friends.

“Doc, you gotta check my arm. Nothing’s too badly broken, right?” she says with a pout. That
irritating pout.

Nevertheless, you fake a smile, voice laced with pretentious worry, carrying out your role as a
physician. “What happened?”

Taehyung couldn’t even look you in the eye, unlike his girlfriend who wouldn’t seem to stop
talking.

“Well, we’re in the middle of a drive,” she shares, hand resting on Taehyung’s knee. “And . . .” She
giggles mid-sentence, you swear it’s the most annoying sound ever. “I think my Taetae just got a
little distracted. We almost hit a puppy and so he decided to hit the tree instead, resulting
in this,” she stresses out her arm in a partial cast.

“I already said I was sorry,” he replies lowly and you look at your ex-boyfriend, catching the cut on
his hand and arm too.

You frown, acting like you’re concerned when honestly you just want them out of your sight. “Oh
poor couple,” you coo, shifting your discreet glare at the man. “Your attention must’ve been
somewhere else, Mr. Kim.”

Before Taehyung can answer, his girlfriend beats him to it with a big smile. “I guess my man just
needs attention.”

Her man. That almost makes you laugh in bitterness when the assigned nurse arrives, ready to
clean his wounds.

“Oh, attention?” you echo, smiling in such a sinister way. “Attention is what he’ll get.”

And you can see the panic in Taehyung’s face, sweat forming on his temples. The nurse is about to
mix an anesthesia with his medication so it wouldn’t sting but you interrupt, “I think he doesn’t
need that.”

All of them look at you, Taehyung gulping down nervously.

“We’re actually running out of Lidocaine and I think the pediatric patients would need it more than
our Mr. Kim, right?” You shift your gaze to the man you hate, daring him to answer. “You’re a
strong guy, aren’t you?”

His empty-headed girlfriend raises positively, “Of course, he is!”

“I am?” Taehyung anxiously repeats, moistening his lips.

“Yeah, you are, handsome!” she encourages, pinching his cheek fondly; and never have you
wanted to inject an antibiotic intramuscularly without any anesthesia so badly.

The nurse nods, following your order and Taehyung struggles to hold back wincing and to stifle the
grunt in his throat at how much it stings.

The need to cry evaporating; you walk out, knowing that that sting he's feeling wouldn’t compare
to the sting you’re feeling. If you’d known that it’d hurt this much and you’d feel so dumb, you
wouldn’t have bet with Bom and Gaeul that night in the bar where you ended up kissing this man
for the very first time.

Oh, the regret. You would’ve done anything just so you wouldn’t fall from this damn playboy. It
sucks. You definitely feel like a booty call and you swear it’ll be the last time you’ll fall for his
stupid moves. Fuck you, Kim—

A hand suddenly pulls you by the wrist, a familiar voice muttering, “Doll, let me —”

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you spit unkindly, withdrawing your hand and Taehyung heaves a
heavy sigh, eyes dropping to the ground.

“Granny?”

You turn and see Jaebum holding a coffee for you like usual and you thank the heavens for giving
you an excuse to actually get away. Abruptly, you go to him, ignoring your stone-faced ex-
boyfriend as if he never existed in your world; your friend walking away with you and having the
decency to stay silent since the anger is still painted on your face.

To be continued.

A/N: Sorry for the whole messy feels and smut.This chapter is just a big jumbled chaos between
the two of em. But still, I hope you liked it, especially Taehyung’s playfulness. Here’s something
more to make you smile and say ‘awww’.

✁-----------------------------------

[INTERLOGUE]

After the breakup, Taehyung returned back to his original playboy character— never taking any
woman seriously—claiming that the only woman worthy of his heart was none other than you.
Sadly, you chose to shatter it by leaving them without second thoughts.

Up until this day, he’s never been attached to any girl. Hookups after hookups, meaningless sex
and casual flirting were all he had involved himself with. He still dated though, but he never once
failed to clarify his terms to women: ‘Nothing serious’ was always his go-to phrase.

And so, his venture from one boring girl to another went on; his current relationship not differing
from the previous others.

Taehyung had always implemented open relationships, cautious not to have women too delusional
that he’d actually spend eternity with them after a few fucks. He wanted women who were cool
with just fooling around with random acting-like-couples situations whenever he felt like it.
With the looks of him, many settled with his terms. In fact, his newest girlfriend, being a playgirl
herself, liked the idea. Sure, they’d kiss and sleep with each other sometimes but jealousy was
never in the picture; maybe because Taehyung’s love will always be far-fetched.

So when you blocked him with worry in your eyes, telling him that his girlfriend was ‘cheating’ on
him, he couldn’t help but find it fascinating.

Of course, Taehyung knew that his girlfriend was fooling around; he proposed the stupid setup
after all. But the concern in your eyes? Damn, it was so genuine that it lit up mischief within him,
making him try to trigger you further in hopes that you’d get jealous and want him back.

{BGM: Hate How Much I Love You—Conor Maynard}

He’d crossed his fingers, wishing that his technique of driving you to the walls would work. But
that night when he came in a bar, accidentally finding you and Jaebum drinking merrily, karma
kicked him in the balls. His heart dropped to the ground, jealousy spiking up and dominating every
part of him as he saw the smile on your face, the closeness between you two.

His hands crumpled into fists, his mind scrambling to think of what to do. He hated to admit, but
you seemed to look so happy with Jaebum and suddenly the idea of you finding someone new
terrified him.

Taehyung had to do something or else he’d regret it, so he marched right up to you and made
excuses to get you to leave the ophthalmologist’s side and be with him instead. Oh, and he
also loathed the way you call each other ‘gramps’ and ‘granny’ as if you’re both sure you’ll grow
old together! Okay, maybe that’s all in his thoughts, but still! You’re not supposed to be giving
cute pet names to men—other than Bangtan—cause it makes him jealous.

Call him petty or desperate, but he’d choose to act all broken and cheated on any time of the day if
that would get you to spend time with him in return and fucking stop smiling when you text back
that guy. Damn, Jaebum!

He babbled and babbled, purposely slurring words like a man wallowing in pain as he downed his
drinks. Surely, the years of not being together had brought both of you changes, but it seemed like
you were still confident that he couldn’t handle his booze the same way back then. Clearly, the
amount of alcohol he consumed night after night for almost a year following the breakup rendered
him not-so-weak of a drinker anymore.

Rather than feeling insulted, Taehyung knew how to play the game, using his acting skills to his
advantage instead.

Pretending to be drunk, it was all jokes and testing waters if you still cared for him. For all he
knew, you weren’t gonna suck up his rambles about another woman all night. He was even waiting
for you to just heartlessly leave him at the bar but you didn’t, even falling for his trick of helping
him get home—which he found sweet of you to do.

Perhaps you really do still care for him?

If not for the acting-drunk, he would’ve given the cab driver a tip for mistaking him as your
husband. He wished he saw the look on your face but leaning on you was just too comfortable for
him to peer up.

Aside from that, Taehyung definitely loved the walk from the cab to his place where you let him
cling onto you, arms curled around your shoulder as he sniffed your scent. Oh, he was so happy,
eyes glittering with mirth that it was a challenge to hide his smile but he managed to do so—the
actor in him prevailing.

But the moment your body fell along with him on his bed—that’s when he got greedy. Greedy to
hold you again. To touch you again. To hug you again.

And so he did, pulling you close to him and not wanting to let go.

As if having a mind of its own, his hands crawled down your tight ass making him squeeze it.

“Tae!”

Loving how you scolded him, he withdrew his big hands with a hiss.

“You sound just like her,” he whined softly, making use of the word ‘her’ to annoy you when he’s
just actually pertaining to you—the old you, his baby doll you, his whiny ex-girlfriend whom he
loved so much.

He knew it’d tick you off. With that enormous amount of pride running in your veins, you were
always in denial as fuck but he had always seen through you. He knew you were always
subconsciously a jealous person deep inside that he found it cute and funny to see you jealous of no
one but your own self.

If only you knew.

His arms abruptly wrapped around you.

“Taehyung, let me go and please just go to sleep!”

“D-do you think I can have one kiss?” he slurred, tightening his grip on your waist.

At first, he wanted to see if he could still manipulate you, challenging you for a kiss in exchange to
this and that but when it wouldn’t work on you, he ended up insisting that you’re just scared when
truth be told, he was the one who’s scared—scared that you’d see through his bullshit and leave
him again like how you did back then.

Purposely reopening old wounds, he reminded you how hurt Bangtan was, curious to see if it
affected you just the same. And when he saw the sadness in your eyes, he gently tilted your chin
back to face him.

“Tell me honestly, you still do have hang-ups for me—for us,” he croaked, his voice almost
sounded like he’s begging.

Your mouth stiffened and you answered through gritted teeth, “Shut up, Tae. I already told you.
I’ve moved on.”

Boy, it was such a slap on his face. He’d never get used to hearing you say those hurtful words.

A thick lump formed on his throat and before he could stop himself, careless words escaped his
lips. “Then prove it. Kiss me,” he prodded despite himself being in two minds too.

Part of him didn’t want you to prove it. The last thing he wanted was you flaunting that you’ve
really gotten over him—them. That would be so unfair, because up until now, he’s still figuring out
how to forget you.

But on the contrary, a bigger part of him just wanted to kiss you. He craved your lips so bad that he
had to say that. Despite the high probability of you slapping him on the face for real any time soon,
it was worth the shot. He could always just say he’s too drunk afterwards and—

Taehyung was in a stitherum the instant your lips softly latched on his.

For a few heartbeats, he remained still, in state of shock and disbelief at how a simple kiss knocked
the winds out of his sail.

He was weak at the knees and over the moon at the same time, your lips and his finally touching
once again.

You pulled away from the soft peck, triumph written all over your face, but Taehyung wouldn’t let
you win this round without a fight. “Make me forget about her,” he challenged, striking your raw
nerve.

With the insulted snort you let out, he knew you’d absolutely throw a fit with the mention of
someone else but he had to see if his words still meant something for you—using lies about how
hurt he was because of someone else when in reality, the most painful thing he’s ever felt was
being abandoned by you and still wanting you even after the relationship ended.

He had to test how far you’ll go with him. Has the time put out the flame?

But there it was, the answer—your eyes narrowing at him, your every touch still burning his skin.
And that’s when he knew the fire never died to begin with and neither of you will let it die down
either.

Bracing himself, he knew you’d screw him over and he’s right.

Your kisses were fire, blazing and igniting every part of him. Your tongue was ruthless, taking
over his mouth in the blink of an eye. The aggressiveness in your kisses already proved a point: no
woman could ever go against you. For him, the sun would always rise and set on you; it was you.
Only you. The woman who taught him what contentment means.

He let you dominate him, missing your savage control and mischief but a few moments later and
Taehyung couldn’t hold it any longer. He bit back, releasing all the pent-up frustration he had
towards you.

His bottled up emotions and longing were thinly veiled, and now he could only count the minutes
before he had you moaning for him.

After a few rounds of love making, he knew he had to pull himself together or else he’d fall into
another abyss, another possible heartbreak. And so he turned to cigarettes once again, to calm him
down, to soothe the anxiety bubbling in his head.

But you just had to come up behind him and the urge to talk things over prevailed on his mind.
However, you weren’t down for the talk as expected and then things just led from one to another
once again.

The next day . . .

What a wild night was the first thing he thought of when his eyes peeled open. But the sight of not
having you beside him in bed had him frowning instantly.

Of course, you left, a train of longing hitting him again with the thought of you gone. He sat up,
reaching to check the time when his door slammed open, his girlfriend bursting in with excitement.
“Tae! Come on! You promised we’d go shopping today,” she reminded, leaping towards him for a
quick kiss on the lips. “I have a date tonight. He’s pretty hot, so you gotta help me out.”

He wasn’t in the mood, but maybe going out would be better than staying in bed where he’d just
revisit the happenings of last night.

“Sure. One second.”

Half an hour later . . .

Driving, Taehyung’s eyes were solely focused on the road, but his mind was wandering, lingering.
Even though he just spent the whole night with you, he couldn’t help but think about your face,
your voice, your smile, those lips.

It was exhausting; to always miss you.

But he had to get a grip because it’s a hazard to his well-being. Imagine, it was just one quick
night, but now you had him wondering about the things he should do, the things he used to
do without you; the hangups rising quickly within him and it’s starting to frustrate him again.

He hated the fact that he’s still in love with you because deep down, he knew . . . he always knew
you weren’t intending to stay; the idea of getting back together was long unattainable.

His thoughts straying towards regret; he should’ve kissed you more. Embraced you more. Touched
you—

“Darling, a puppy!” his girlfriend shrieked, startling Taehyung that his hands hurriedly turned the
steering wheel; adrenaline rushing through his veins and then his car crashed into a big tree.

Damn, thinking about you really was hazardous.

 morphine
Chapter Notes

⌦ Warnings: t e n s i o n, fluff, drunk shenanigans, humor, girl talks, jealousy, lewd

words, implied smut, mentions of sex, blow jobs and etc, blind dates, cliche but still
unexpected plots [?], emotional roller-coaster 4/?; this is gonna be fun!

⌦ A/N: Seventh chapter, already? (ao3's first chapter is a mere teaser, so yeah. this is
the seventh) Wow. Since SEVEN is our lucky number and our album title, this chapter
will also be the beginning of real chaos. Brace yourselves because this is filled with
tons of surprises. HAPPY CHOOSEDAY! :)

Also, for those who wants to reread Thesis IT, I added a link on the first chapter. You
can go check it if you want. :)

[F.U.C.K.] MORPHINE is a narcotic pain reliever used to treat moderate to severe pain.

Why Morphine? Because it’s morphine time! *power ranger voice* HAHA. The little aches you’ll
be getting in this chapter and the next ones will surely pierce. Good luck!

“Ugh!”

A frustrated sigh startles you and your friend Dr. Sy, interrupting the food you’re about to shove in
your mouths.

Another ER doctor joins you at the cafeteria table, frowning. “I think we’re on the so-called ‘rough
road’ at the moment!”

By the looks of her, she must be upset again about a sarcastic joke her boyfriend said and you’re
right. Elle, the newly-hired doctor months ago, narrates what happened. And for a couple of
minutes, you and Sy just nod, accustomed to her petty arguments with her boyfriend.

“He’s so boring,” she concludes while you and Sy can’t help but laugh, getting her guy’s humor.

Suddenly, you have the urge to say it because you think it’s true. “Doctors are boring too, you
know.”

“Seems like you’ll get along with her boyfriend better.”

You glare at Sy’s not-so-funny joke and turn to Elle with your own question. “No, seriously. Why
do you say that he’s so boring?”

“He always sleeps on me,” Elle reveals, arms crossing over her chest with a pout.

Sy tries to placate, “Maybe he’s just really tired?”

“Or maybe he’s just pretending to sleep just to listen to your voice?” you innocently raise with your
loose tongue, both of their attention on you with that odd comment.

You observe their expressions and innocently shake your head in confusion. “No?”

“Who even does that?” Sy knits her eyebrows at you and you scratch an invisible itch behind your
neck awkwardly.

“Oh, is that weird?” you ask.

Elle shakes her head. “Not weird. Just . . . too romantic and stupid to be true,” she debates, “Why
would he sleep just to listen to my voice when he can listen to it when he’s awake?”

Lips shut tightly, you don’t make efforts to argue. They’re right. That’s stupid and you gotta blame
your ex-boyfriend for having that memory crawling back in such a random time.

Fidgeting, you pick your nails as you try to brush off the thoughts of Yoongi and that time you
caught him smiling despite his eyes closed while you were singing softly as he slept. And that
made you realize that all those times, he’s just been pretending to be asleep just to listen to you
sing—because you rarely sang inside a house already filled with great singers and you honestly
weren’t that good at it too.

“I love your voice,” was what he always said; his pale arms wrapped around you as he tried to
appease and remove that pout of betrayal in your face.

But you cuss at yourself. Clearly, there’s no point in revisiting such old and tacky memories. And
so you force a smile and query instead, “What does he do for a living though?”

“I . . . uhm, I actually don’t know,” Elle admits, shrugging. “We just stay together in our place and
do things on our own. Though I’m obviously a doctor with my uniform.”

There it is; Sy’s eyes rolling in disbelief. “You’re in a relationship for how long again?”

“I think we’re turning one this year? I’m not sure?”

Sy’s jaw drops at her answer. “Why do you even stay with him if you don’t know anything about
him at all, woman?”

“It’s definitely the sex.” Elle just giggles, brushing her statement thinking that the other is only
kidding.
A little later and a nurse calls for her attention and she excuses herself from the conversation,
making Sy look at you, wincing.

“Sex?” Sy scoffs, eyes widening as if she can’t believe the woman’s answer and you had to hold in
your laughter. “Last time we talked to her she obviously sucked at sex. How could a man stay with
her?”

A few months ago . . .

“Hi, I’m Elle!”

In the middle of eating, you and Sy turned to the woman introducing herself, your lips
in a welcoming smile.

Indeed, the hospital has been accepting new hires and that meant new friends. But this
woman had her own charms. Somehow, she’s either too innocent or just plain
insensitive.

How come?

Because a few weeks after she was assigned in the ER, she’s already caught your
attention when she’s sulking alone in the locker room.

Apparently, she’s been problematic since day one. Well, not work-related problems
though—just the usual relationship problems most adult women had.

“What’s the matter, dear?” Sy asked, combing Elle’s hair behind her ear.

She looked so sad and bothered that you had no choice but to hear her out.

“It’s my boyfriend,” the newcomer shared, “I don’t think he loves me at all.”

You and your friend shared a knowing glance with the topic you anticipated. Men.

“What made you say that?” you joined, wanting to show concern as you tried to
approach her problem fairly.

“It’s just, he didn’t reply to me last night.”

You and Sy waited for more details but a few seconds of silence meant that that was it.

“And?” you both raised but Elle just shrugged.

“Shouldn’t boyfriends reply to girlfriends?”

That question had Sy chuckling in disbelief. “Well, yeah. But that’s too simple for you
to conclude such a thing, sweetie.” She patted the other’s back with a smile. “Is he
your first boyfriend?”

And with Elle’s nod, you both knew you had to teach her tons of things. She’s too
clueless for her own good.

And that’s where Sy’s mischief surfaced. With a smirk, she nudged you, asking you to
teach the other your own techniques with men—as if you’re such an expert at it.
 Of course, you blushed, but the two doctors wouldn’t drop the conversation. And so,
you submitted with a sigh.

“Well, I don’t know much about men,” you lied—if you’d looked back, having been
in a poly relationship gave you many insights about them, “But the first thing you
should always do is know his interests. You see, each man differs from another.”

Elle nodded; and somehow, you didn’t know why Sy was nodding too—as if she’s
eager to learn as well.

Tilting your head, you tried to think more. “And once you figure his interests that’s
where you’ll attack him. Like do stuff he likes with him.”

“And that includes sex!” Sy interrupted without warning.

Elle looked taken aback, but she replied, “Sunbae, we do sex.”

“What kind of sex?” Sy interrogated, still suspicious.

“What do you mean? Is there a different sex?” the other asked, and immediately Sy
panicked.

“Oh my god, you’re vanilla.”

And you can’t help but laugh at the two conversing. With a light nudge, you called
out, “So what if she’s vanilla? Many women are vanilla too. It’s fine.”

But Sy’s nosy ass just wouldn’t stop. “Do you suck him good?”

The sudden redness of Elle’s cheeks was evident. “Well, he eats me up. Isn’t that
enough? I kinda don’t like the general idea of going down on men?”

Gasping, Sy turned to you. “Shit, she’s a monster. That must’ve been why your
boyfriend is so distant.”

Again, you could only giggle at your friend’s exaggeration while the other seemed
anxious. “Don’t worry,” you cooed, “You can try things one step at a time. Like
maybe, you can start off with surprising him by wearing lingerie?”

Boy, the shocked and turned on expressions of your ex-boyfriends unexpectedly

entered your mind as if it only happened yesterday. Each of them had different
reactions but mostly everyone loved seeing you wear less for them; others even
preferring to rip your scanty lingerie off you and—

“Really?” Elle’s voice cut you off your flashback. “Will that work out? Do you think
my guy would like it?”

“If he’s straight, he probably will,” Sy commented casually.

And the conversation evolved into something else. In no time, you found yourself
teaching her how to suck cocks while Sy talked about different other sex positions.

Wow, it was such a lewd session with those two that you swore it’d be the last time
you’ll talk about such vivid things together.

Now, it made you hope that Elle’s doing well and actually practicing all those things you taught
her.

“Beats me,” you answer Sy with a shrug. “Maybe he loves her not for the sex. Come on, let’s not
judge. True love‘s not dead.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Sy mutters softly, making you turn to her. “Elle is pretty and kind and cute
but . . . this boyfriend of hers. Based on her stories, I don’t think they suit each other.”

Your lips curve in a smile, finding it funny how she’s suddenly worried. “Since when did you
become such a Cupid, Sy? Give them a break, maybe they’ll work it out in time.”

***

With a smile, you greet the condo’s receptionist. It’s been a month since you last saw her friendly
grin when you and Sy went to visit Elle. Funny how that day replays in your mind.

A MONTH AGO

“This building’s receptionist is polite!” Sy commented as you walked to Elle’s said room. The
soonest you rang the doorbell, she opened for you with an appreciative smile, asking you to come
inside.

When all of you entered, an annoying sound caught your attention—the door closing with an loud
squeaky sound.

“Aren’t you gonna fix that?” Sy asked, placing her bag on the sofa while Elle just shrugged.

“Na, I love the sound.”

You chuckled, the woman really was weird in a good way.

When all of you already settled on the carpet floor, you and Sy exchanged glances before asking
with concern, “What is it this time?”

And almost too quickly, Elle revealed, eyes dropping to her cup of coffee, “The sex seems to die
down.”

And with a heavy sigh, you turned to her, anticipating the long talks to come.

It’s always been the drill. For the past few weeks of being her co-workers, her relationship
problems were all shared with you and Sy exclusively. Thus, it became your task to enlighten her
with advice about dating and relationships since she looked clueless about such matters.

An hour of chatting, and you wrapped up the whole problem solving with a suggestion, “Maybe
you should spice things up a bit?”

The two women looked at you, perplexed.

“What kind of spice are we talking about?”

You beamed at them. “I think you should try living together? Maybe that’ll help you get to know
each other better. And hey, that’s exciting.”

Enthusiastic, Sy added, “Yeah! Imagine the unlimited sex!”

And all three of you ended up bursting into laughter.

PRESENT

Now look at you, walking in this same condominium, invited for a party because Elle took your
advice and wanted to finally introduce her boyfriend-slash-live-in-partner to everyone.

Wow, how time flies!

On your way to Elle’s place, you realize you’ve forgotten which floor she was on and so you dial
Sy’s number, stepping inside the elevator.

Busy talking on the phone, you fail to notice a man quickly striding inside before the door
completely closes.

“What’s the floor number again?” you ask, eyes glued at the floor buttons on the wall as if trying
to recall it yourself.

The door closes and she answers you through the other line, “Fourteenth.”

You’re reaching for the said button when someone else beats you to it; your fingers grazing each
other’s as the pressed number lights up in red.

Instinctively, your head turns to the person beside you and you freeze in place; your brain stuttering
for a moment as your gazes meet.

It’s Min Yoongi.

In a black cap, his cold eyes spear right through yours that you stand there, waiting motionless as
the elevator lifts the both of you.

With the venomous silence, the tension suddenly thickens and somehow it feels like you’re
cramped in such a suffocating place that you try your hardest to remember how to breathe.

It’s been four years, but why does Yoongi make you nervous, still?

Walking out from the damn elevator, you don’t spare him a glance, heading to Elle’s unit as quick
as you can. You turn the knob and enter with your heart racing so fast that you halt in the middle of
the place just to calm yourself.

“Hi, doc!” Elle greets, surprised that you entered without ringing the doorbell but nevertheless still
looking grateful for your presence.

You smile back at her but oddly, you don’t hear her door squeaking shut this time and then her
suddenly glimmering eyes look past you as she squeals with mirth, “Honey!”

And so your heart races again; you’re terrified to glance behind you all at once.

Please don’t be someone I know, you pray silently.

But the curiosity is too much for you to handle that you soon find yourself slowly glancing over
your shoulder.

And fuck, you see him.

Yoongi.

Your eyes meet for a few heartbeats and the whole world blurs out; as if there’s only you and him
in this galaxy.

But that thought vanishes rather quickly when he walks past you like you’re invisible.

{BGM: The Best You Had—Nina Nesbitt}

Your eyes unintentionally follow his every move and you regret not looking away when his lips
found Elle’s in a trice.

Along with your gaze, your stomach drops the instant you see them kissing, still taken aback.

Why? you ask yourself, biting on your lips. Why was your heart still unprepared seeing him with
someone new?

As if on cue, Sy arrives after, witnessing the kiss between the couple. Her hand reaches for you,
nudging you and snapping you out of the heartbreaking trance you’re lost in.

“Hey, love birds!” She waves and Elle grins back at her.

“Welcome back to our place!”

Immediately, she leaves Yoongi’s side to greet you both with hugs. Afterwards, she looks at him.
“Oh, by the way, that’s Yoongi. My boyfriend.”

Sy flashes a big smile while your smile never reaches your eyes.

“Let me just finish cooking,” Elle shares. “Yoongi, help me set everything up.”

“Honey, I just got off from work,” he says in a hushed tone but the woman tilts her head.

“So? What are you implying?”

Boy, does this woman know how to make things awkward; you and Sy pretending that you didn’t
hear anything.

And the man only sighs, the both of them stepping away from the living room and heading to the
kitchen together.

“So he’s the guy,” Sy whispers lowly.

It slowly sinks in; the man Elle’s always talking about and the man Sy refers to as “the unlucky
boyfriend” is the same man as your ex-boyfriend, your devil, Min Yoongi.

Your other colleagues arrive too, the place slowly occupying an increasing number of visitors
while you sit silently on the couch, just stealing glances and observing Yoongi from afar.

Now, every fragment of lewd conversation shared between you and Elle flashes, turning your
stomach. And even after all the tips you gave her, she still asked you and Sy to help getting his
boyfriend to talk about himself which is the main reason you’re all invited for this party.

It’s supposed to be Elle’s party but you can see how she makes Yoongi do all these tasks in her
stead. From time to time, you’d all see them arguing about trivial matters and your ex-boyfriend
would just yield, not wanting to prolong any bickering because maybe . . . he’s tired.

Scratch that, you know him to well and his face is screaming exhaustion and you wonder how the
hell can Elle not see that?
You’re sure that he’s staying beside her just because she’ll nag about it if he doesn’t and it annoys
you—seeing Yoongi that way.

Now, you’re starting to believe what Sy has been saying all the time: They don’t suit each other.

After a nice dinner, everyone is obliged to assemble in the living room to drink together and chat—
which was originally planned by Sy and you for the getting-to-know-boyfriend scheme.

If only you’d known who her boyfriend is, then you wouldn’t have agreed to this in the first place.
But it’s not like you can back out anyway, so you try your hardest to just chill and act laid back like
your usual self; a beer on your hand while you take a few chips from time to time, listening to the
conversations thrown.

“We rarely talk about stuff, especially from his past,” Elle spills, surprising the others.

Yoongi tried to appeal. “That’s not true—”

“Shut it,” she hisses, glaring at him. “The only thing you told me is that I’m prettier than your ex-
girlfriend.”

God, Sy exerts herself to hide how irked she is with how your colleague is acting but she has no
choice but to bear with it while Yoongi steals a quick glance at you before he sighs lowly. “Why
does the beauty standard have to revolve around my ex?”

Elle’s brows raise. “Because I wanna know what—”

“She’s not even pretty to begin with,” Yoongi coldly answers, his words piercing right through you
and your self-fucking-esteem.

Body stiffening, you gulp down, convincing yourself not to over-analyze. Maybe he had other
girlfriends after you. Don’t assume that he’s talking about you, you remind yourself.

“So why did your previous relationship ended?” Sy straightforwardly asks, purposely changing the
topic she finds irking; Elle holding in a smile at the help she’s getting from the other doctor,
contrasting the thick lump forming in your throat, your hands suddenly sweaty while Yoongi’s face
seems stoic as usual—not even fazed by the question one bit.

“We just didn’t work out,” is his simple answer.

Elle is lowkey rolling her eyes as if telling you guys that he is that hard to talk to but Sy doesn’t
hold back. “Yeah. I was asking why. Why did you guys break up?”

Yoongi tilts his head as if he’s recalling why. “I guess she just got fed up with me.” And swearing
to the heavens, you see how his gaze lands on you when he says, “Maybe she got bored or maybe
she just . . . didn’t love me that much to stay.”

Your heart clenches on its own.

“Aww,” Elle feigns pity, clinging onto Yoongi to seemingly comfort him with a peck on his cheek.
“Yes, you’re boring, hon . . . but I won’t leave you no matter what.”

“Really?” Sy reacts towards Yoongi’s statement with suspicion, “You’re boring? I don’t get that
boring aura of yours though—”

“No, he really is boring,” Elle firmly interrupts and damn, you don’t know why but her words
make your blood boil, your hands balling into fists at how she won’t stop the unnecessary
emphasis.

Sy shifts her attention to you, asking, “Girl, do you think he’s boring?”

You’re surprised with her question, the same time every little damn flashback pops in your mind;
how happy Yoongi made you. All of those fun times you shared with him.

It’s sad that you’ve witnessed it first hand and not be able to testify to it because it’s futile to even
think of it when he’s out here with someone else. But before you can even respond, Elle beats you
to it—again.

“He is,” she strongly claims, triggering you to drink more from your liquor instead. “Like the most
B.O.R.I.N.G person I’ve ever met in this universe!”

Every time she opens her mouth, you just get angrier. With her last statements, you see yourself
exploding, exasperatedly crumpling the beer can in your hands as you bark at her with curses,
“Fuck you, bitch! First of all, Yoongi is not boring. He’s so far from boring, you dumb hoe! Boring
is even the last word you use to describe Yoongi! He’s lazy, hell yes! An ass, second! And many
things thereafter. But he is definitely not boring.”

You lick your lips, knowing that you still have so much to say. “If I were you, I’d be ashamed of
myself,” you growl harshly, and everyone gasps but you don’t care. “What kind of girlfriend are
you? You don’t even make efforts to know him, his stories, his life.”

Fuck, Yoongi’s humor is in a different level that it makes you this furious.

You still try to control yourself though, but when memories flood you, those favorite conversations
of yours, you spit again, all the rage flowing faster than magma, “You say dumb shits because you
don’t know him at all! His short yet witty humorous jokes that never failed to have me in stitches.
His once in a blue moon sweetness. Heck, even his gummy smile can immediately complete
anyone’s day. He might not talk much but damn he can make you feel so loved that you won’t be
asking for anything else. And you dare call that boring?!”

You grab her by the collar, eyes firing laser beams when you recall another infuriating fact about
Elle.

“Yoongi even gives the best tongue-fucks and yet you don’t even blow him properly in return, you
ungrateful useless woman! If there’s a boring person in your relationship, it’s obviously—!!”

“Hey, stop zoning out!” Sy’s voice snaps you out of such weird trance. “I was asking you if you
think Yoongi’s boring.”

You’re so fired up that you’ve unintentionally imagined all those stupid stuff in your head and now
you’re so caught off guard with everyone silently staring at you that you feel like a fish out of the
water as you swallow the pointless wrath you’re feeling.

“Uhm . . .” Sweat forming on your temples, you’re suddenly at a loss for words, eyes dropping to
the ground as you ransack your brain for appropriate answers—unlike the scenario you just saw in
the back of your mind.

As his obviously secret ex-girlfriend, it’s not like you can answer that he is or that he isn’t, right?
So you opted for something safe.

“I-I, uhm I can’t say. I think it’s not right to judge people I don’t know.”
“But you know him,” Elle asserts, earning a surprised look from both you and Yoongi.

“W-what?” you stutter.

“I mean, I just introduced him to everyone a while ago,” she clarifies, giving you relief. “So
technically, you know him now.”

You know you have to be firm and resolute, so they’d stop asking you questions. “But I still don’t
know him at all to say such things.”

“See, I told you,” Elle turns to Yoongi with a smile. “Doc is always so polite. That’s why we love
her!”

And then everyone chuckles, agreeing when someone concludes, “Yoongi-ssi, maybe your ex was
scared?”

Everyone then considers, humming in response as they take his icy features.

“Maybe.” Yoongi just smiles and Elle smiles back at him, cupping his face.

“This face is scary?” she prompts, scanning him. “Not scary to me though.” She pecks him a kiss
on the lips, seemingly comforting. “It’s okay, honey. Sometimes men fall for cowards. I’m sure it’s
her loss.”

With a half-smile, Yoongi nods while the guilty you wordlessly come apart to seams.

But apparently, everyone grows engrossed with the topic, that someone adds, “Maybe she doesn’t
know how to be content?”

You wince, chewing your bottom lip at that statement, making you grab your drink and chug it
down in one go with how nerve racking this setup is getting.

“Slow down there!” Elle worriedly calls you out, “Sunbae, I don’t want you walking out too
drunk.”

And everyone in the circle laughs at her; clearly, she doesn’t know you at all.

“Elle,” Sy responds with a half-teasing snort before she taps your shoulder like a proud mom. “This
woman never gets drunk. Probably nobody in this room has ever seen her drunk. In fact, we all
have this crazy theory that she’s invented a drunk-antidote that she hogs all to herself,” she shares
before side glancing at you. “How do you never get wasted, huh?”

And immediately, your eyes avert to the floor despite all your colleagues agreeing with Sy’s
statement. Deep inside, you know the truth and you can imagine the smug face painted on your ex-
boyfriend right now because he’s certain you don’t possess such a thing as drunk-antidote.

As predicted, Yoongi can’t help but hiss discreetly at their overly exaggerated claims; the both of
you recalling your embarrassing drunken nights with him and as if on cue, someone just has to ask,
“I wonder how sunbae is when she’s drunk?”

And you swear you see Yoongi flash a cheeky smile.

You two were the last men standing, the ones that finished the motherfucking bottle
despite all others snoring and fast asleep. You pushed past your limits this time and
you’re so drowsy but you still wanted to show Yoongi that you’re not backing out.

But he was reaching you another drink, you didn’t want to fold so you gulped it in one
go.

A few minutes later . . .

Straddling him, your head fell to his nape and you whispered randomly, “Do you like
it when I leave marks? Cause I love seeing your pale skin marked.”

The second he nodded, you reached for a lipstick above your nightstand,
uncoordinatedly applying it on your mouth that he chuckled.

“Wow, so beautiful,” Yoongi swooned despite your now messy makeup.

“Am I pretty?” you asked, posing like a flower as you batted your lashes and again, he
chuckled softly, agreeing.

Then without warning, he caressed your cheeks, eyes staring at you fondly. “Yeah. So
pretty like it’s that night in Halloween where my eyes just instantly stayed stuck on
you.”

He’s holding in his laughter but you honestly just appreciated his words, drunkenly
overlooking the humor mixed in it.

And then in a blink of an eye, you’re kissing him sloppily, showering his face—and
even down to his neck—with lipstick smears that he’s somehow cackling because it
tickled.

A few moments later and you rested your head on his shoulder, your breathing heavy
after a tiring activity of . . . aggressively peppering him kisses.

You peered up to his face covered with your red marks and smiled at the result.

“You love me this much, my angel?” he asked, fingers brushing through your hair in
such a calming manner.

“U-huh,” you hummed, nodding with closed eyes before proclaiming, “I love you and
him and him and him and him and him and him.”

The man giggled. “Oh, really? Who are these hims?” He’s teasing and having fun at
how you barely had the energy to keep your eyes open.

“Of course, you.” You booped his nose before continuing your enumeration. “And my
little Kookie who’s not so little actually,” you trailed off, giggling. “My chaotic
Taetae, my sweet Jiminie. Of course, my clumsy Joonie, my bright Hoseok-nim and
my pretty Seokjinnie.”

Creases formed on his forehead. “Did you just call him pretty?”

“U-huh.”

With that, Yoongi chuckled again, tightening his embrace. “They’re so gonna be
envious when they hear about this tomorrow.”

You gasped, eyes widening. “Envious? No, no. Nobody should be envious.” You
 panicked, shaking your head and incoherently apologizing, “I’m so sorry.”

“What are you saying?”

Before he could hold onto you, you’re jumping off him and running to the drunken
members and he’s suddenly worried, but only when he saw you pepper kisses on their
faces with that messy red lipstick of yours did he get what you’re doing.

“Ten kisses for you,” you said, pecking one guy after the other. “And you, and you.”
Each men getting the same amounts of kisses though you counted so messily as well.

The sight had him smitten at how clingy and sweet you were. It seemed like you’re
never gonna let anyone feel jealous and he appreciated and loved that about you.

Not long after and you tried your best to pull all six boys together for a group hug
despite all of them dead drunk, and Yoongi lost it, his tummy hurting at how silly you
looked like.

“What are you doing there!” you growled, startling him. “Come over here and hug
us!”

With his gummy smile, he obeyed, walking towards to join the drunk-people group
hug.

The next day, everyone woke up with the messiest faces smeared with lipstick.

“Up until my neck? Wow.” Jungkook observed his reflection before turning to you
with a smirk. “Seems like my baby girl took advantage and ravaged me, huh?”

You sheepishly muttered, “Shut up. I did not.”

But the others didn’t care; they were too busy comparing who had the most smears on
their faces.

And that’s when Yoongi yawned, stretching his arms and making his shirt lift partly
that something caught Seokjin’s eyes.

“Ya.” The eldest suspiciously went to the pianist and pulled his shirt up a little,
gasping in fake betrayal as he saw lipstick marks below his belly button and further
south leading somewhere down his pants.

All the other men darted their eyes on you and shifted it back to Yoongi.

“Well.” He only shrugs, grinning. “Drunk angel honestly gives the best heads. She
totally blew my mind. No exaggerations.”

His answer had your cheeks blushing furiously, the others whining in envy.

Turning to the violinist—one of the strong drinkers too, Yoongi added, “Your weak
ass just had to be asleep, Jimin. You missed half of your life.”

And the many banters continued while you only groaned, hating your hangover
headache.

More people throw assumptions about what kind of drunk person you are and then suddenly, the
topic shifts, Elle raising a random question, “Come to think of it. I’ve never heard you talk about
your past relationships, doc. What happened? Why are you still single?”

All eyes darted on you, deepening their gazes even that you’re suddenly so tensed but you have to
get through this without any issues, so you give out your thoughtless answer, “I guess . . . things
just end?”

“Really? That’s it?” Elle comments, concerned, “That sounds so heartless, doc.”

“Which boyfriend though? No offence, sunbae but with the looks of you, I think you’ve had plenty
of suitors,” someone tipsily chirps, “You’ve always been popular in the hospital, doc. Men have
been chasing you.”

You’re blushing now, the attention given to you isn’t something you fancied, making the
awkwardness painted in your face crystal clear.

“True,” Elle agrees with a giggle, adding to the awkwardness, “She looked like someone who had
a lot.”

“Oh yeah. She totally has the player vibe,” another colleague of yours notions.

Their reactions have you more speechless but thank heavens, Sy notices, helping you out with a
strong and smart reply, “Forget about this gorgeous doctor. This woman hates talking about her
dating life. And trust me, maybe it’s just not that interesting. What’s interesting is your boyfriend’s
life, right?”

Elle’s immediately straightening up, nodding her head in approval as she remembers her mission to
get her boyfriend talking. “Yeah! Yoongi’s life is way more interesting.”

Sy doesn’t beat around the bush, lifting an eyebrow. “So how many girlfriends did you have?”

But then again, it’s Elle answering for him, glancing at Yoongi to confirm, “I think I’m his third?
Or what, second girl you’re super serious with?”

Yoongi replies dismissively, “You’re the fiftieth, hon.”

Sy and the rest chuckle at Yoongi’s joke but Elle doesn’t seem to like it. Immediately, she pulls
away from him with a frown which has Sy reacting, “Oh my god, Elle! Your boyfriend was
joking!”

But Elle seems to push through the lover’s quarrel with her immaturity, walking out from the
circle; Yoongi having no choice but to excuse himself and follow her.

With the couple gone, Sy turns to you, annoyance on her face. “Poor Yoongi!” she whispers in a
shout, “She can’t even get jokes. Oh my, that’s so awful. How petty.”

You can feel the irritation in your friend’s nerves but you just can’t say much at the moment, so
you just nod.

And now your colleagues are busy setting up the music as you wait for the couple to make up;
Taylor Swift’s You Belong With Me randomly blaring inside the place and you roll your eyes,
hating every bit of lyrics in that song.

A few minutes later, the couple returns, apologizing for their childish behavior; Elle is back at
clinging onto Yoongi as if they didn’t just argue about something nonsensical while your ex just
looks like the usual—unbothered.
“I’m sorry, guys. You see, Yoongi just has this ex he never talks about,” Elle explains, shooting her
boyfriend a subtle scowl. “He thinks I’m gonna stalk her even though I think she’s not worth my
time. You’ve moved on, honey, right?

“Very much moved on,” is Yoongi’s answer and you honestly don’t know why that stings a little?

“That’s why I accepted your proposal, right?”

Yoongi looks a little surprised at his girlfriend’s question but nevertheless, he just nods in silence
and everyone cheers for the both of them—well, except for you and Sy who pretty much had this
conversation weeks ago with Elle where she wondered if she should just propose to her boyfriend
or lie about her being pregnant.

It was such a petty move that Sy just suggested for her to just propose. And so maybe that’s the
reason why the both of you doesn’t look amused but nevertheless, you still join the cheers.

“By the way, what do you do for a living?” Sy asks again, making efforts because Elle obviously
lacks in this.

“I’m a musician,” Yoongi replies softly, “I play the piano.”

“Oh my god, hon!” Elle’s eyes glimmer with surprise. “That’s awesome! I never thought you’d be
something like that though.”

And heck, you can obviously hear subtle murmurs of ‘Dr. Elle doesn’t know that her boyfriend
plays the piano?’ from your colleagues, earning a lifeless sigh from both Sy and you.

All of a sudden, your phone rings, cutting the whole conversation and that’s when you realize that
Sy asked you to order pizza hours ago.

You answer the call, only to hear that the pizza boy seems to be stuck in the lobby.

Elle immediately clicks her tongue. “Oh, the security in this building is tight. I’m sorry but you
need to get the pizza from him downstairs.”

“No problem,” you squeak, scrambling to get on your feet—excited.

Stepping out to breathe fresh air seems like the nicest idea right now but she just has to make things
worse when she notions, “Honey, I think you should help her.”

“What?” You turn to her, insisting, “No, I can manage really. Thanks but—”

“No,” Elle stays stubborn, prodding her boyfriend to stand. “Yoongi always gets the food
deliveries anyway. Right, hon?”

And the man just nods, standing up meekly.

You swear you deem Yoongi following to assist you unnecessary. But with how he lets his
girlfriend order him around, you have no words left for him.

In silence, you head down the lobby, meeting the delivery boy and after paying, you take the boxes
from him but Yoongi grabs it from you, his pride as a man surfacing up.

With a sigh, you let him carry it, not wanting to even start any conversations at all but it’s him who
starts, “So you don’t know me, huh?” his voice low and raspy.
Your ears perk up. It’s the first time he talks to you and he chooses to use sarcasm, taking your
innocent answer earlier against you that your eyes narrow at him.

“Yoongi,” you reproach sternly despite saying his name out loud still burning your lips.

Without second thoughts, you turn your back on him, deciding it’s best to just drop whatever
looming argument it is and hastily walk back to the elevator but he somehow catches your pace.

His brows cock, trailing after you. “Two years and you don’t know—?” he stops mid-sentence only
to correct himself. “No, I take that back. Four. Four Halloweens and you don’t know me?”

His question makes you stop in your tracks, irritated. What’s his point? You scowl at him, this time
having none of it.

“Really, Yoongi?” you snap, the displeasure evident in your tone as you drag the vowels. “Her?
That woman?”

“What about her?” he snarls back.

“She called you boring. Are you deaf or just plain stupid?” you fearlessly raise, disappointed with
all the things you witnessed. “You’ve been acting like her fucking slave, assisting her and
entertaining her guests the whole time when you’ve already clearly told her beforehand that you’re
exhausted from work.”

You sound so annoyed, and it’s obvious that you’re complaining for his stead.

“That’s so un-you!” you growl, “No, it’s not you at all.”

“I thought you don’t know me?” Yoongi spits spitefully. “You really have problems sticking to
your words, have you?”

That’s such a lame attack, making you bite your lips in annoyance but he continues, “If you say you
don’t know me then stop being so full of your—!”

But you don’t care about what he says. Instead, you cut him off, raged, “There are so many women
in the world, Yoongi. At least settle with someone who sees your worth because fucking trust me!
You’re not boring.”

He stares at you, jaws clenching in silence and you grab the opportunity to speak again.

“Honestly, I don’t want to be rude. As her co-worker, Elle is nice. But seriously? What the fuck do
you even see in her? I’m not the only one who notices this . . . but,” you trail off, suddenly failing
to word out what you intend to say because you know you don’t have the right to comment. You
like Elle as a person, but not a person for someone you know deeply, er, correction . .
. knew deeply.

“But what?” he rakes, urging you to spill and you do.

“Damn. Whatever you see in her . . . I don’t know.” You moisten your lips, trying to hold it in but
you give in, “I don’t have to say it because I know that you know it deep down.”

Your angry eyes dart to his, a silent assumption thrown from you to him.

But you know you’re starting to sound petty; hence, you step inside the elevator, forcing your lips
shut before you let out more unnecessary words.
You regret a lot of things but having this conversation tops the list.

Somehow, you try to think things through. Taehyung has a girlfriend too, but you weren’t this feral
about it. Maybe because deep down, aside from being so used to hearing Taehyung toy with
women back in college, you think that he being cheated on might be his karma for being such a
playboy and breaking too many hearts on purpose.

But compared to Yoongi? Damn, you came to know him the most and you’re certain that this
man hardly flirted with women; in fact, he hated women. And maybe that’s why it’s so hard to
give him up to Elle. Yes, that’s bullshit because you left him, giving you no rights about this topic.

But if you’re to choose a girl for him, frankly, Elle would be the last option—and there’s no
bitterness even added to that. Level-headed, you just instinctively know that she’s . . . all
the wrong things for him.

The next day . . .

“See?!”

Your eyes roll at your friend’s whine. “Sy! For the hundredth time. I’m not going on a blind date,
woman!” you state, resolute in your tone and she pouts at you like a disappointed puppy.

She’s been trying so hard to set you up on a date ever since the start of this year. You can say that
the reason she agreed to take Jungkook as her intern was because she thought it would make you
change your mind, but no. You cunningly stayed firm with your stand.

However, with the buzz about Elle’s ‘wedding’, your friend is now at it again, insisting you to start
dating her cousin’s friend.

“Look!” Sy grabs both your shoulder, looking you straight in the eyes. “If she’s gonna get married,
we both need to bring our pairs! So, you better start dating—stat! With how insensitive Elle is,
who knows when they’ll really be married. But with the looks of that Yoongi, he’s pretty sub. So
probably anytime soon.”

Sub? You can only snort, hearing her assumptions about your ex-boyfriend, but again, it’s not like
you can say anything about him anyway so you accept defeat, sighing one deep exhale and your
friend immediately smiles at that.

“Alright!” She grins big, eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s all set. Meet him up this Saturday for
lunch at the restaurant address I’ll send you!”

And before you know it, she’s gone, dust trailing after her that you shake your head to yourself.
Slowly, you contemplate whether you’re ready to date again.

Are you rushing it? Or maybe it’s just right on time?

Like what Sy said, Yoongi might stupidly really get married. And as you recall, Taehyung has
b e e n stupid for his new woman too. Your other exes might probably be in long-standing
relationships too and you obviously can’t do anything about it.

Perhaps it’s worth the try, you encourage, still uncertain but the willingness is there. Sooner or
later, you gotta help yourself settle with someone else. If they’re moving on, so should you, right?

***
SATURDAY, lunch time

With an irritated groan, you lock your phone after reading Sy’s message. Clearly, she won’t give
you your date’s number with the fear of you blocking him right away and you can’t even blame her
—the last time she gave your number to a man she thought would suit you, one message was
enough for you to block the poor being instantly.

Learning from her mistakes, this time, she decides to just tell you the details herself, having you
obey her as ordered.

Go inside the restaurant already! He’s already waiting, you minx! He’s in a striped
sweater, hair brushed back, handsome. Plus he already ordered steak for the both of
you.

You’re sure ‘handsome’ was written due to her own standards and somehow, you’re worried. You
never really talked about your type of men with Sy, making you anxious if the man she set you up
with is too handsome or not handsome at all.

But there’s only one way to find out. So, you step inside the meetup place, your eyes roaming for
the man you’re appointed to have a meal with.

Striped sweater, you chant and after a few minutes, your eyes zero on the clothed pattern you’re
looking for. Found him!

His back facing you; you strut inside the place, making efforts to head to your table across, but as
you walk closer and closer to him, your insides slowly turn upside down with the familiar side
profile.

Before you can fully show yourself to him, you search the place for other men who wear a striped
sweater too but you fail to find any. Panic creeping up, you click your tongue, suddenly in two
minds if you should continue this or not.

Oh c’mon. Is this another lame joke? you groan inwardly, hating how you keep bumping into your
ex-boyfriends time and time again.

You’re sure about cursing life’s timing but catching a glimpse of the man, you can’t help but idly
stare; this feeling so nostalgic, you know you’ve felt this way before.

Handsome Jimin is busy fiddling with his phone; his hair neatly brushed up, highlighting his jaw
and forehead. He reaches out for his glass of water, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he
drinks. That simple act has you enchanted.

How does he do that? He comes back to your life like autumn and you seemingly fall every time.

And then he’s suddenly looking in your direction, your throat constricts; you’re nervous from
inside out.

Should you leave? you ask yourself, your feet ready to bolt out but when your gazes meet, Jimin
just . . . he just shifts his attention back to his phone as if he didn’t see you.

It’s confusing; the next move you should make. You’re leaning onto leaving, but then again if you
leave, will he run after you?
Probably not.

Obviously, the Jimin now seems to differ a lot from the Jimin back then. So instead of walking out,
you agree that the best thing to do right now is act casual; hence, you make your way towards him
like a big girl you should be.

The instant you stand in front of the table, Jimin queries nonchalantly, his eyes still stuck on his
phone, “Blind date?”

“Don’t judge,” you cut the bullshit, taking a seat.

He chuckles, finally sparing you a decent glance. “When did I ever?” His lips form a loop-sided
smile, somehow a little sarcastic and shady; it annoys you.

Unexpectedly, he’s acting all cocky that you’re about to be infuriated if not for the drinks served
by the waiter. With politeness in your tone, you take the glass and drink in silence rather than
bicker with him.

His eyebrows suddenly raise as he hums, “It’s surprising that you’re not walking out of me this
time.”

You snort, insulted by his tone; it’s as if he’s giving you a chance to back out and prove something.
Perhaps, that you haven’t moved on from him.

“Well, I’d rather finish my meal than be immature about this. It’s just a blind date. It’s not—”

With an impressed look, Jimin leans back, nodding. “Wow, coming from you?” He hiss with this
half smile and reaches for his glass. “That’s new.”

The last thing you want is to look flustered so you just fake a smile and respond with nothing but
feigned calmness as you take the cutlery, proceeding with your meal without a sound.

“To be honest, I thought you’d storm out the after our eyes met.”

You halt and look at him, daring him to continue

“What?” Feigning confusion, he continues, “It’s always been your default action. Classic
you loved leaving without second thoughts, right?” He shrugs, his words playing between mocking
you and just plainly reminiscing.

Your face goes blank. For a moment, you don’t know how to react to his statements but when his
expression changes, his lips turning into a playful grin, you’re sure he’s teasing, trying to drive you
off the edge.

“Jimin, it’s been so long.” You roll your eyes at the immaturity he’s showcasing.

With soft chuckles, Jimin nods, agreeing. “It has, hasn’t it?” His eyes bravely meet yours again.
“But I won’t lie. I didn’t expect you’d have the audacity to actually push through a meal with an
ex-boyfriend.”

Oh, if only he knew what you’ve experienced with your other ex-boyfriends, maybe he wouldn’t be
so surprised.

You hiss, hating his tone—as if he’s so sure of how much he still affects you when in fact, he
doesn’t. Right now, the only thing he’s affecting is your temper.
You’ve honestly had enough of it with your exes. After stumbling across Jungkook, Seokjin,
Taehyung and Yoongi, you just feel so fed up with the roller coaster emotions, the banters, the
push and pull, you’re drained that all you want to do now is quietly finish your meal, leave and
actually live peacefully.

“I’ve changed,” is your bold answer. “I like to think I’m a lot stronger now. And besides, it’s just a
meal.”

Again, he hums innocently, pretending to take in your words but you can see past his fraud and the
way he tries to hold in his smug expression which is about to flash due to your replies.
He’s not believing you one bit, that’s a given. And it certainly gets on your nerves.

“Look,” you call his attention coldly. “I don’t see anything wrong with this.”

That line sounds so familiar that even Jimin’s lips curl upwards at it. Looking back, it was what he
told you during your first Tinder date where your identities were revealed. But now, years later and
it’s you using the statement to him.

The tables must have really turned 360 degrees.

Your new way of thinking has Jimin delighted. He takes his a sip of his drink and utter cheekily,
“Who would’ve thought you’d have another blind date with a not-so-stranger again, right?”

“Please,” you groan with an unintended roll of eyes. “It’s not like we knew this was gonna happen
anyway . . . Unless?” Suddenly, you become doubtful, your eyebrow raising at him, waiting for
him to spill but Jimin only laughs.

“Oh Jesus,” he raises, “Please tell me you’re not actually thinking that I set this up.”

You just shrug, continuing your meal unbothered that he laughs again.

“Why would I wanna see you again in the first place?”

Your actions halt for a few seconds. That statement hurt a little to be honest but bitterness isn’t the
aura you want to give off and you know it’ll be evident if you speak more, so you settle with just
shrugging your shoulders again.

“My friend has been busy setting me up with different women. Apparently, his cousin has someone
interesting to recommend,” Jimin calmly explains. “Uhm, I guess . . . Congratulations for being
interesting, doc?”

Wow, his tone awfully sounds so derisive, but you’re just not in the mood to argue.

Halfway through the now awkwardly-silent-meal, he queries casually, “You’re still single?” His
alluring eyes heavy on you.

{BGM: Filter—BTS Jimin}

You lift your brows at the question but he doesn’t seem to care.

“I’m a very busy person.”

“I can tell,” he retorts lightly and you’re caught off guard. “But for a woman who was once sated
by seven men? Don’t you have your needs?” he whispers in a tease.

Your jaws drop at his bluntness, face flushed red in an instant. Truly, this side of Jimin has you
driven up the wall. Eyes turning into slits, you bark, “Ya—!”

“I was kidding.” He cackles loudly, his tinkling bell laugh resonating in the air, his body curling
that you’re sure he’ll fall off the chair if not for the wall beside him. “Why do I still ask such
questions when you’re obviously having a blind date right now? Of course, you have needs, doc.”

A thick lump forms in your throat, hating how he still knows you like the back of his hand. But
deciding to approach him with straightforwardness, you come clean, eyes dropping to your plate.
“I’ve been stressed out.”

Again, Jimin nods as if he understands. His hand instinctively reaches out for yours, gently rubbing
his thumb above it as he leans closer.

“You know you can always call me if you need ‘stress relief’. For old times’ sake.”

“Jimin!” you scold, taken aback by his offer.

But he just brushes it off with another factual statement, “You had seven men, how do you plan on
settling your needs now? It’s no big deal, I can help. I know your kinks. No strings attached.”

Your eyes almost bulge out, surprised at how he talks to you while his face remains serene, no
trace of any anxiety or what. “If you’re offended, go. It’s so easy to walk away.”

Oddly, those words have you staying firm, wanting to prove that you’re not affected. “Pervert,”
you spit under your breath.

“Just like you,” Jimin whispers back, a pleasant smile pinned on his plump lips that you’re dying to
erase. “Imagine if I’m not your blind date and someone else was. Poor man would be so clueless
how hard it is to satisfy a woman like you in bed. One clueless man would never be enough,
right?”

Hands balling into fists above your lap, you hate it. You hate how he insults you yet at the same
time, you hate it because he’s right. That has always been your fear. One man knowing your kinks
and failing at it by default has always held you back from ever dating again.

Having the chance to try out the poly relationship has been both a blessing and a curse. A blessing
because aside from all the love you received, boy the sex was glorious but then again, it was so
glorious it turned into a curse with how it’s unattainable with the lack of partner. After poly, you’re
just . . . insatiable and you never tried sex again, terrified that you’ll just be disappointed and yearn
for more.

But damn, Jimin didn’t have to say that so rudely.

“It’s okay if you turn down my offer. I understand. You’re a woman after all, your feelings might
ruin you in the end. It’s uncontrollable and unpredictable as always.”

“Feelings?” you stress, tone sarcastic as you attempt to put him into place. You won’t ever let him
see you unstable. “You think I still have feelings? For you?” You draw a hearty laugh in
conclusion.

He just hiss, his eyes glued on you, telling you that he’s not buying your words.

“Let’s see who still couldn’t get over.”

“Oh, that’s certainly not me,” he says, angelic voice provoking. “Whoever has hangups, I feel pity
for her.”

You force an obviously annoyed smile before wiping your lips clean. “As much as I‘d like to chat,
I have to go.”

You’re about to stand when Jimin quickly interrupts, “Can I make a call for work? I left my phone
in my car.”

It’s the first time you see actual panic in his eyes that it makes you click your tongue, your hand
reaching your phone to him.

He then smiles softly, dialing. Up until now, it’s still a mystery how he goes from fierce to cute all
at once but when a different phone rings, it snaps you out of your thoughts.

Jimin’s smile turns into a grin when he reaches inside his pocket while you can only press your
tongue on the inside of your cheek at his sleek move.

“Thanks.” He winks, returning your phone as if he didn’t just use your phone to call his phone so
he could register your new number in it.

“Ya!”

“Call me if you need anything, doc.” Jimin only wags his eyebrows playfully. “And by anything,
you know I mean—”

You turn your back on him, uninterested. Not today, asshole.

To be continued.

A/N: The chaos begins again. Advance happy birthday little meow meow! <3 Hope you guys had
fun. Or well, at least tell me how you feel? Great week ahead! xoxo

PS: I also wish it was clear that you screaming at Elle and cursing her in front of everyone was
just a big imagination. It never happened. It’s purpose is to humor us and express the real
emotions hovering inside. However, ‘you’ are a civilized woman and hence, you will probably not
do that to any of Bangtan’s new girlfriend . . . unless? hahaha.

Btw, what’s your favorite song on the album? I hope mine’s obvious . . . Filter. I hope you’re all
ready for Jimin’s chapters. *evil laughs*

CHAPTER QUESTION:

Yoongi is in a fucking long relationship with your co-worker which may end into who knows what,
and Jimin is out there, offering you some sort of relief. Now, freaking tell me . . . WHAT’S YOUR
GAME PLAN, DOC?
 morphine 2.0
Chapter Notes

⌦ Warnings: NSFW, 18+, t e n s i o n, drunk shenanigans, jealousy, lewd words,

oral, fingering, unprotected sex, 69, edging, mild orgasm denial, mentions of sex toy,
too-many-guys-is-a-headache chapter, emotional roller-coaster 5/?; a whirlwind of
emotions; do not read if you’re stressed

⌦ A/N: Belated Happy Yoongi day! I hope you could sort out every bit of emotion
that will be drawn from you as you read this chapter. good luck!

Also, for those who want to reread Thesis It . . . my tumblr username is xherxx.
https://xherxx.tumblr.com/post/183868151334/thesis-it-ot7xyou

There are gossips buzzing around as you walk inside the ER but you’re not the type to care—
especially in your early morning shift, so you proceed to your station rather silently.

“Doc, have you heard?”

A nurse approaches you and you answer dismissively, “Nope. Not interested too.”

“But doc, they say it’s your ER patient that they saw.”

You sigh, knowing that she won’t stop bugging you unless you pretend to care. “Saw what?” you
ask, not sparing her a glance. “You know, whatever my patients do is not my—”

“Doc, the woman who sprained her arm last week was heard moaning loudly in the men’s
bathroom yesterday when she came to uncast her arm,” she shares abruptly, “Also, she won’t stop
saying those ‘Oh fuck me’ that had everyone irked.”

The too-much-information has you speechless. You now know which patient everyone’s talking
about and you can’t help but be more pissed off.

Taehyung and his girlfriend just have to ruin your day again. As if having you as a booty call and
running back to her the next day wasn’t enough, they had to mess around your workplace too? The
fucking gall.
Few minutes later . . .

You’re trying to have a peaceful breakfast in your station when a man pops in, his box smile
flashing at you as he holds in a cup of what seems to be hot chocolate—which you
already stopped drinking a long time ago.

“Leave,” you immediately word out but he only pouts.

“I just wanted to thank you for . . .” Taehyung stammers, “for uhm, treating my wounds.”

It’s been more than a week since your last encounter with this man and god, right now, after
hearing that news, you just wish he’d get out of your sight.

“You already paid the bills. That’s enough of a thanks. Now, can you please leave?” You’re trying
your best to keep your cool despite wanting to kick his face for having the audacity to show up in
front of you after what he’s done but he doesn’t seem to stop.

Instead, he even walks towards you, cooing, “I’m really just grateful for—”

That’s it. You stand up, brushing past him. If this motherfucker won’t get off your face,
then you will.

But alas, Taehyung brazenly grabs a hold of your wrist, pulling you back to him.

“Baby doll, please—”

With your quick reflexes, you twist your hand and grip his instead, folding it behind him forcefully
as you push his chest against the wall, making him yelp. Studying all these self-defense sports
should be put to good use—especially when it comes to this rascal.

“A-ah! Ouch, doc! My arm.” Taehyung winces, begging for you to let go.

You want to prolong his agony but if you keep this up and somebody sees you, you might get
suspended for allegedly hurting a patient so you release him with a snarl, “Leave.”

You turn your back at him but he reaches for your hand again, making you defensively brush his
hand off yours with a snap, “You can’t even keep your cock in your pants! You disgust me.”

***

After your tiring shift and that damned encounter with Taehyung, you head out to drink alone, still
infuriated with the thought of him fucking in hospital premises.

Maybe it ticks you off because it makes you realize your defeat; that despite what happened
between the two of you that night, this cheating girlfriend of his still won over you.

Your ego is damn broken again and so you drink—heavy and hard—frustrated at how things ended
up.

You shouldn’t have helped Taehyung and should’ve just sent him to his place alone. You shouldn’t
have let him fuck you because it only made you yearn for more.

Fuck, the alcohol is kicking in, the lewd scenarios repeating itself in your head; how he owned you,
how he dominated you.

Taehyung gave you such a good fucking that the years of abstinence vanishes into thin air and it’s
as if you’re back to square one—back to the insatiable thirsty woman wanting to be pleasured like
that at all times once again.

Another bottle of liquor and you hiss, reminded that Taehyung was out there balls deep with his
cheating woman and again, you’re disgusted.

Even the thought of Yoongi and Elle doing those sinful things which you cluelessly taught her had
your stomach turning upside down.

Damn it! You hate this feeling—the feeling of being left behind.

But still, the sexual frustration remains inside you, driving you insane. You know only Bangtan
can satisfy your needs, but what should you do now?

Should you go meet Jungkook and beg for him to slam his cock in you as he pins you against the
wall? You’re sure he can do that way better than how he does back then but maybe it’s just the
alcohol talking.

Your cheeks are burning at that thought but you still coherently shake your head, knowing that
fucking Jungkook is like diving in a quicksand.

The guy genuinely wants you back; you can see it in his eyes and just being in close quarters with
him can be dangerous to both of you.

Again, you down another shot of your liquor to convince yourself to behave, but the frustration
only worsens.

You desperately grab your phone, eyes lingering on your call logs. There it is—Jimin’s number.

Biting on your lips, you remember clearly how he questioned you about your sex life. If this jerk
didn’t remind you of your kinks and how unsatisfied you are, you probably won’t be this needy.

Somehow, Jimin is to be blamed.

‘Call me if you need anything, doc,’ his statement echoes in your brain.

Isn’t this the kind of need Jimin was talking about? you wonder and realize what Sy had been
telling you over and over back then.

“This blind date of yours loves getting laid. I bet he’s great in bed,” she raked, your
eyebrows furrowing at her.

“How’d you even know that?” you retorted in disbelief.

“Look, me and my cousin don’t lie about such things. And we just wanna help our
friends get what they want!”

You raised your eyebrow at her. “By setting them up to get laid?”

“What’s so wrong about that?” she asked, earning an inward groan from you.

“I swear, if this man is a pervert, I won’t hesitate to strangle him to death,” you
 warned and Sy nodded with a beam.

“Hello?” a subtle voice from your phone startles you; your thoughts too scattered that you fail to
notice that you’ve clicked the call button.

Shit. You clear your throat and lift the phone to your ear, saying thoughtlessly, “You need it, don’t
you?”

Instantly, he recognizes your voice.

“Need what?” Jimin sounds confused.

“Sex.” Truly, the alcohol does not let you filter your ideas, and you hear him giggling on the other
line.

“Look who’s talking,” he hums and you hate it.

Since when has Jimin become this cocky?

“Yeah, I’m talking,” you spit sharply. “Let’s do it, Park. Not like I’ll fall for a jerk like you again
anyway.”

***

The moment you arrive at his doorstep, you both waste no time, hands gripping, grabbing each
other like hungry animals while your mouths find comfort in each other’s.

Lips swollen, Jimin pulls away, panting heavily. “You taste like alcohol. Are you drunk?”

“You wish I was,” you say dismissively, your sassiness making him chuckle.

Your lips reaches for his again but he flinches teasingly and reaches out to nibble at your ear
instead. “Oh, trust me. Tonight, I’ll get you drunk . . . with my cum,” he whispers, bringing
butterflies in your pussy—if that’s even possible.

It sounds so silly but Park Jimin used to always be capable of doing whatever you deemed
impossible. But with the long time you spent apart, “We’ll see about that,” you challenge.

His eyebrows lift at your sentences and before you know it, he’s carrying you towards his
bedroom.

Tossed on the bed, you squeak, a little startled when your body hits the mattress

“Just let me remind you that I’m not gonna be your gentle lover, doc.” Jimin sinks his torso
between your legs while you brazenly wrap your arms around his neck.

{BGM: One More Night—Maroon5}

“Don’t worry.” You smile. “I don’t need love. All I need is for you to fuck my brains out.”

With a smirk, Jimin kisses you and you kiss back, the both of you resolute in taking each other’s
breath away.

Let the games begin.

His clothed cock grinds on you, his lips so rough on yours. When Jimin said he wouldn’t be gentle,
he seems to really mean it.

But you shake that thought off. For once, you stop using your head and just let your mind drift
away, your body doing the talking instead.

You’re sure to reproach yourself again for giving into such stupid setup but you’re probably gonna
wake up feeling satisfied, so you might as well just take it as win—for now.

Impatient, Jimin hastily rips your blouse open instead of unbuttoning it, earning a loud gasp from
you.

“Bastard, that’s my favorite blouse.”

You scowl at him but he only nibbles on your lips with a sly smirk as he placates, “I’ll buy you a
new one, doc.”

His plump lips then crawl to your neck, peppering sensual kisses as his wet tongue runs along your
skin thereafter. Jimin also makes sure to suck bruises on you as he fondles your breast—hard and
unforgiving.

You bite back a moan which gives him a smile yet again.

“One,” he sweetly whispers with delight, seemingly signaling that he’s somehow keeping scores of
the times you’d sound so pleasured by him.

Then and there, Jimin takes off your pants, your panties following afterwards and in a blink of an
eye, you’re both naked and entwined in a sixty-nine position on the bed; your head thrown back in
a whimper as he sucks your clit nice and agonizingly slow—just the way you preferred.

Jimin slides his tongue down your slit, teasing the wet entrance to your pussy.

“Ah, Jimin,” you whine in pleasure while he shoves his tongue in your hole; the many other noises
you make still tallied in his mind.

“I guess you should’ve brought your dildo toy with you,” he says as he keeps eating you out.

Bending down, you take his fat cock into your mouth, showering it with kittenish licks as you
begin waging war. “I don’t have such—”

Jimin moans into your wet folds, thrusting his hips upward to enter your mouth, purposely gagging
you with his dick. “You dirty liar,” he groans, biting on his lips with how good you are at taking
his cock.

You suck on him, fondling his balls and before you know it, he’s fucking your throat.

You open your mouth wider so his thick member could go deeper. But when he hears you cough
on his dick, your throat constricting, Jimin moans your name with bliss and you smile, the odds are
now even with the delicious sounds he makes.

“Fuck!” he responds, lifting his head to run his tongue on your pussy, your eyes rolling back in
your head as you whine.

“You’d love it if I use a toy on this little pussy while I let you suck my cock like this. Being spit-
roasted used to always make your day, doc.”

Heat creeps up to your cheeks at his lewd comment but nevertheless a trickle of arousal drips from
your opening and Jimin alertly laps at it.

“Your pussy tastes so good.”

With your next moan, Jimin pushes his tongue all the way into your cunt, the same time he inserts
two fingers inside you.

Defeated, you lean back, grinding and slamming your pussy into his face. Your knees are shaking.
This isn’t good, you’ve been too deprived and you know you can’t keep up with him any longer.

You’re gonna cum and Jimin knows it.

“Jimin,” you whimper, stroking his hard cock desperately, you other hand cupping his balls. “I
need your cock in me.”

You feel the vibrations of his moans against your pussy lips, his fingers slowly halting its
movement as he hums, “I didn’t quite hear you.”

He’s driving you up the wall; surely, he likes how you sound so needy for him.

You swallow thickly. “Jimin,” you yearn, unwilling to surrender that easily but he giggles.

“Beg,” he breathes, teasing. “Maybe if you do, I’ll consider and give you what you want.”

You clearly don’t wanna lose to this game but truth be told, the more you suck his cock, the more
you want him to fuck you with it.

“Please Jimin,” you choke out the words he wants and he replies with a dark smile.

“On fours,” Jimin demands and you meekly comply, crawling to get on position.

Eager, you arch your back, your ass out in anticipation and he presses his dick against your
dripping hole.

“Look at that, doc.” Jimin tilts your chin, directing it to the mirror on his wall; both your reflection
displayed.

Unhurriedly, his cock enters your pussy and you push back against him with a moan, his hand
grabbing you by the hair, his mouth on your neck. “You look so beautiful getting fucked from
behind,” he whispers darkly.

Soon, you progress into an amazing rhythm, bodies pushing against each other, your ass back and
forth to meet each of Jimin’s strong thrusts. In unison, you release sounds of exquisite pleasure as
you chase your orgasms together.

***

The morning after, you wake up seeing Jimin topless. It feels like a dream that your lips softly
curve upwards, predicting what he always does.

You expect him to kiss you on your forehead and greet you a sweet ‘good morning, my kitkat’ with
his angelic voice just like the old times.

And there it is—Jimin crawling and making his way towards you; your heart skipping a beat like a
teenager that you close your eyes, anticipating.
But . . . your brows knit in confusion when his lips ghost pass your forehead without any peck;
instead, he seems like he only reaches out for his phone on the head board.

“Are you awake?” Jimin asks, putting on a decent shirt as he looks in the mirror. “Just lock the
door when you leave. I got an early meeting.”

He grabs his phone and car keys and leaves as if you—lying on his bed still a little naked—were
nothing special.

Tossing and turning, you sigh, a hand slapping your cheek to wake up you because it seems that
you’re still drunk from his *coughs* cum that you fail to think clearly.

It’s only for one night though. No big deal.

A few moments of reflection and you sit up, certain that Jimin is a match; the right kind of match
for you and your fixed decision of never getting back together with any of them—but still wanting
a bit of benefit with how much he knew you.

You know it’s wrong, but you had your breaking point and honestly, your needs have been eating
you up.

Last night was just relief, you remind yourself, preparing to head out.

Three days later and it’s Jimin calling you, “Could you see me tonight?”

“What for?” you reply shortly, your eyes busy scanning your patient’s chart.

“I need you,” he blurts out, a sudden spark running down your spine as you unintentionally
romanticize his statement but he slyly adds, “If you know what I mean.”

You clear your throat, getting a grip of yourself. It’s supposed to be just for a night and you want to
stick to your own rules. “No, Jimin. I don’t know what you mean. Bye.”

“Hey,” he grumbles before you can even end the call. “I gave you relief a week ago! It’s only right
you return the favor.”

Nevertheless, you still hang up on him, showing that he’s not the boss of you.

You toss your phone away and try to continue your work but somehow, the things he said keeps
repeating in your mind. And you hate how he makes it sound like you’re indebted to him.

You? Of all people.

With a grunt, you fish for your phone again, your pride not letting you off the hook.

What time, jerk.

You send him a message with one thing spiraling your mind. One more sex and then you can call it
quits; afterwards, you can just delete him from your memory and move forward without owing him
anything.

The soonest you’re available. Should I go to your place since I’m the one who needs
it this time?

You roll your eyes at his pretend consideration and reply a big no. You’d rather go to
his repeatedly than have memories of him on your bed. You don’t want to stain the serenity of your
place with fragments of him.

***

When you arrive at his place, Jimin doesn’t beat around the bush. Instead, he straight up marches
to you, your body jolting back in surprise as he wraps his arms around you, latching on your lips
like a needy animal in heat.

The intensity of the kiss makes you think of how badly stressed he must be.

He doesn’t even waste time to undress you or himself. He just pins you against his door, teasing
and challenging you if you can keep your moans to yourself while he fucks you right there.

All of his dirty ideas make you wet, his fingers playing with your clothed pussy as he nibbles on
your ear. “You want my cock, doc?”

You do, but you’re not bowing down to this. He’s the one who needs you.

“Jimin, let’s just get this over with,” you retort, exerting yourself not to moan despite your body
quivering with his touch.

He chuckles softly. “Very well,” he utters before suddenly turning you around, your chest pushed
against the hard door as he pulls your skirt up your ass, his finger peeling off your panties before he
goes down on you from behind.

Oh, how your body stiffens, your knees weakening every swipe of his devilish tongue. And then he
slides it in your slit, drawing one sensual moan from you.

“Fuck, Jimin!”

You feel him smile against your skin, but he doesn’t stop, rather, he adds his finger.

It feels like torture—holding back the scream in your throat. You know you should ask him to stop
all the foreplay because it’s about him; he asked for this because he’s in need but he just knows
your body too well.

Every touch, every kiss; it all lights a fire within you and then you’re wanting him just as much as
he seems to want you.

Jimin makes you feel so damn good; he’s your guilty pleasure.

He makes you orgasm twice, overstimulating you before he actually stands up to get his dick
moistened by your juices.

It’s a challenge to stay upright with your succeeding releases but Jimin cages you, his hand
grabbing you by the hair as he slams his cock inside you mercilessly.

He knows you want it hard—you always asked him to back then yet he always fucked you with
reservation, treating you like you’re the most precious and fragile gift he’s ever owned.

But look at him now, with hands digging on your waist that seemingly will bruise the morning
after, Jimin pounds you in the roughest manner you’ve ever experienced.

Damn, it feels like fucking heaven with a twist—the sweet pain as he slaps your ass becoming
addicting.

Jimin feels different—a good different though. He’s no longer afraid to treat you with
aggressiveness, he calls you names that provoke you yet unexpectedly turn you on to another level,
and most importantly, he’s the only ex who doesn’t make attempts to restore the history between
you.

Yeah sure, he brought up the Tinder blind date and the possibility of you still not being over him
the first time you saw him again, but that’s just that. Afterwards, it’s all just sex and physical
contact and dirty talks. No more. No less.

And maybe that’s what you need right now—just a someone who’s memorized your body casually
fucking you.

After a few more rounds of fucking against almost every piece of furniture he has, you both lay
tired on the carpet floor. No cuddles. No aftercare. Nothing.

“Now, we’re even,” you pant, eyes drifting to him.

Jimin just flashes a half-smile at you. “Yep.”

The next time he messages you is innocently about something of yours that you somehow left in
his place but with the stress your workload gives you, you fail to notice how you the conversation
turns into relieving stress.

You don’t even know who initiated the topic which led one thing into another. The only thing
you’re sure is that you’re lying on Jimin’s bed, feeling so full with his cock lodged deep in you as
he fucks you again.

To say that things got out of hand is an understatement.

In no time, the whole ‘relieving stress’ becomes a repetitive activity, a sinful habit between you
two and you overlook how it became an endless loop, an unmanageable bargain that neither of you
knows when to call it quits again.

.
.

AT THE HOSPITAL

“I’m hungry!” Sy growls beside you early in the morning.

You’re both on duty together but the usual influx of patients prevents you from buying a quick
breakfast.

You don’t say a word, focusing on your chart instead when she adds, “Hey, maybe intern Jeon
would bring us food if he knows you’re on duty!”

Clicking your tongue, you turn to her. “Doc, let’s just finish our census as soon as we can, and then
we’ll buy our own food.”

Sy frowns at your suggestion, nevertheless complies while you’re silently thinking about certain
things like . . . It’s been months since you last talked to Jungkook.

A week after parting ways with Sunny, you went back to work; overwork was a more
accurate word to use. It was always your defense mechanism to forget about your
troubles.

As always, your first day back in the ER was always filled with catastrophe. This time,
a road accident occurred nearby, having the hospital packed with tons of injured
patients; the influx taking a toll on the whole duty.

And so you took over every patient you could, skipping break times and just aiding
those in need of medical attention. Coming to meet the staff along with some interns
who endorsed with you last night, you glance at your watch, realizing that it’s already
their night shift again and here you were, working extended hours from graveyard to
another evening shift without noticing.

“Doc,” a nurse raised, “It’s way past your shift. You should head home and rest.”

You just smiled at her faintly. “I’ll just check this one last patient before I leave.”

Half an hour later . . .

You were heading out of the lobby when you came across Jungkook who’s a little
early for his shift. With the urge to avoid him reigning over you, you wanted to brush
past him as quick as you could but suddenly your body felt heavy that you couldn’t
move a muscle.

“Doc?”

You heard him call, his eyes studying you but somehow you felt like drowning. A few
seconds and blood dripped from your nose, your fingers instinctively trying to wipe the
scarlet fluid but it was futile; everything just turned blurry, your world abruptly
spinning that you couldn’t bare open your eyes and your balance slowly faltered as
you passed out.
 Good thing, Jungkook was quick to catch you in his arms, carrying you in one scoop
as he brought you to the ER.

Enveloped in his arms, you’re trying to stay awake but it was all in vain; your body
feeling all the fatigue, hunger and stress you’ve been under. Then you felt your body
laid on the bed as someone inserted an IV line on your hand which alleviated your
condition a little.

“Please, don’t scare me like that,” was something you heard him say, his hands tight
on yours.

You turned to him, weak. “J-jungkook.” And soon, you started muttering confusedly.

“Rest,” he breathed, his tone laced with concern. “Your body needs it the most.”

Your eyes yielded and it felt like he planted his lips on your forehead but you weren’t
certain if it was all just your imagination and before you could figure it out, you drifted
to sleep.

Two days later . . .

You arrived at the station and a sight of a takeout breakfast sat on your desk, making
you sigh heavily.

Sy heard you from the other side and teased, “That intern really seems to like you, doc.
He never really dropped by the station whenever you were off.”

You threw her a quick glare and she zipped her mouth.

After everything that happened, you’re just suddenly bothered by Jungkook doing
these kinds of things at your workplace and so you ignored it.

A few moments later and you stumbled upon him before you began your routinary
rounds. All at once, you tried to dodge him but he was quick to grab you by the arm.

“Doc,” Jungkook said, turning you to meet his worried gaze. “You didn’t touch your
food. Are you skipping another meal again? Are you—?”

“Jungkook, I don’t wanna see you.”

Your blunt words caught him off guard, his mouth opening and closing before he
found that one word. “W-why?”

Your eyes darted to the floor. “I see Sunny every time I see you and I get sad.”
Withdrawing your arm from his grip, you looked him in the eyes, stating firmly, “You
make me sad.”

“Oh,” Jungkook breathed, stepping back as if he just lost 50% of his life span.

After that encounter, he never showed himself in front of you which is a big relief for you
somehow.

Your twelve-hour shift ends but just before you could grab your things, you and Sy are being
dragged by the other employees to join them for a karaoke despedida dinner of the ER’s head
nurse.
Sy, being the social butterfly of the Medicine Department, instantly hops along, giving you no
other choice but to come as well.

“So, have you heard about the hospital shuffle?” the head nurse starts the topic while everyone in
the room is offered food and liquor.

Nodding her head, Sy replies, “Yeah. The hospital location’s still unannounced though, along with
the chosen hospital representative.”

You’re busy emptying your beer when they toss you a question.

“What are your thoughts about reshuffling?”

All eyes suddenly on you, you clear your throat, answering lowly, “Well, I guess I don’t mind
being transferred to a different hospital?”

And they gasp at that, Sy pouting at you. “No way! You mean to say you’re fine with leaving the
ER? How could you be so heartless!” she says dramatically, earning chuckles from the rest.

“I mean, I love the ER. But if the upper management asks me to,” you trail off. To be honest,
you hate the reshuffle. You hate adjusting to new environments but with all these people looking
at you like this, it’s not like you can just spill such truths, right? “Then I guess, I might accept it,”
you bluff, crossing your fingers in hopes that it won’t ever happen.

It’s all fun and casual conversations when suddenly the door opens, numerous interns entering the
place. Clearly, they’re all invited by the head as well—grateful for the big help they render at the
hospital.

“Now, we can start the karaoke party!”

Of course, one of those interns includes Jungkook whom you still pretend is invisible most of the
time. Perhaps it’s too ambitious to think that you can avoid him forever but you try.

Slowly, the conversation turns into loud singing sessions; the interns mandated to entertain their
seniors with song and dance intermissions.

HOURS AFTER

It’s all so amusing; everyone’s laughing and having a good time. But somehow you can feel
Jungkook’s lingering gazes at you from time to time. At first, it’s like mere stealing of glances but
as time goes by, the more alcohol the interns are dared to drink, Jungkook’s glances deepen that
makes sticking around not a good idea.

Mustering up your courage, you walk to the head nurse and bid her farewell, informing her that you
need to go home due to some matters. Luckily, she lets you off the hook.

You’re on your way out the building when suddenly, someone pulls you back, startling you.

“Jungkook?” Your eyes widen at him but he doesn’t say a word, his doe eyes just blinking at you
as if he’s trying to fight off his exhaustion.

You sigh, turning your back on him and proceeding outside but he grabs your wrist then again.

“D-doc,” he slurs, voice low. His face is flushed red, his stand a little unsteady.

Biting on your lips, you scowl at him, trying your best to remove his hold on you peacefully but
Jungkook won’t let you go, making you snarl, “What do you want from me?!”

“I want everything back!” Jungkook replies through gritted teeth, taking you aback. “I want the
lazy evenings. The sleeping together. The waking up together. The morning walks we habitually
did. The everything in between. God, I want you so bad. I—”

“Jungkook, I don’t want you back,” you tell him straightforwardly, making his grip on your wrist
loosen on its own.

Flabbergasted, he just stands there while you grab the opportunity to leave.

Clearly, you’ve already learned your lesson about what happens when you help drunk exes. Thanks
to Taehyung, you’re not gonna let yourself go through that again—especially not with Jungkook
whom you want to spare from further heartbreaks in the future the most.

Avoiding him is all for the best.

It won’t be fair for the kid, you sigh, recalling that you broke up with him; breaking his heart once
is enough. You don’t want to hurt him anymore and so you stay resolute with distancing yourself
from him because you know that deep down, you never want to be foolishly pulled into the mess
of a serious relationship with any of them again.

A few days later . . .

Applying the finishing touch to your makeup, you rub your now rogue lips together to smoothen
your lipstick. A sigh escapes you as you look at yourself in the mirror, dressed in a black mini
halter dress for this hospital event which you hated.

However, you just can’t ditch it because every staff member is mandated to attend.

You wouldn’t have hated it so much if your department didn’t actually ask you to go and check out
another hospital far from your place. It seemed like they considered your opinion about reshuffling
seriously.

“Doc, you’ll just represent our hospital. Just this once,” was what they said.

And unfortunately, you’re too merciful to turn them down. Partly, it’s your fault for answering that
reshuffling issue positively last karaoke session anyway. And luckily, Jimin’s place was near that
hospital you’re assigned to.

Your ex-boyfriend-slash-fuck-buddy was also kind enough to let you stay in his place the night
before you’re scheduled to go to the said hospital.

But enough about that, because you’re already running late; Jaebum spamming your inbox, asking
you to meet up with him immediately.

Everyone gathers at the auditorium, a feast waiting for everyone. After some specific
announcements, the management instructs that the priority is for everyone to enjoy the night and
then the crowd cheers; some heading to eat in the buffet, some staying for a drink to relax.

You and Jaebum opt for the latter—drinks on your hands when a relaxing piano plays as if on cue.
The room is suddenly at awe, and so you both turn your attention to the most corner of the room
where the pianist assigned to entertain the night sits.

All at once, your grip tightens around your glass as you take in a familiar figure—Yoongi playing
the piano.

A little later and you see Elle approaching him, seemingly wanting the whole hospital to know that
she owns the pianist. She leans close, clinging on to him as he plays.

Envy comes in waves and slowly, you’re drowning in it.

You remind yourself then and there again; you broke up with him—with them, hoping it was for
the best . . . that it would be the key to everyone’s real happiness.

And now, you witness Yoongi happy with someone else; the only question is—

“Why aren’t you happy?”

Jaebum’s voice interrupts your deep thoughts, and it doesn’t do you any good. It only worsens the
situation with how you turn to him like a deer caught in the headlights. His question hovering in
the air as if he could read your mind, you’re tongue-tied.

“W-what?” you choke, gulping hard.

“It’s Happy Doctor’s day, granny! Why aren’t you happy?” your friend elucidates and you
somehow realize how out of sorts you are. “This whole event would be useless if the doctors aren’t
happy, you know.”

When you don’t reply with your usual sassiness, Jaebum guesses with a smirk, “Does it have to do
with . . .” Slightly leveling his hands with his tummy, he gestures playing an imaginary piano,
imitating Yoongi with fingers dancing along every musical key pressed.

And you instantly hit his arms, signaling that you get his unfunny joke but he doesn’t stop. His
eyes disappear into crescents, teasing, “Come on, let’s imitate them! Hug me too, like Elle.”

Indeed, Jaebum loves making fun of you and you’re sure you hate him for it—well, it’s not like
you can actually hate him though.

Without warning, you flick his forehead and he winces; thankfully, that makes him stop bugging
you for a moment while your attention shifts back to the couple unintentionally.

Yoongi’s lips seem to murmur something and Elle pouts, tightening her embrace. It’s such a sore
in the eyes that you avert your gaze with a grunt as you remember the thing she told you a few days
ago.

“I hate seeing Yoongi play the piano.”

Your eyebrows lifted in surprise followed by the discreet narrowing of your eyes that
you stopped writing on your patient’s chart. “What did you just say?”

“I said I hate it,” she repeated, unnoticing the annoyance in your tone. “Yeah, sure.
He’s great at playing but I can’t help but get jealous. He always said, playing the
piano always brought memories of his stupid ex-girlfriend. Besides, I’m a doctor. He
shouldn’t be just a musician. Maybe he suits business more so.”

Honestly, it wasn’t the calling you ‘stupid’ that ticked you off; it was her dictating that
 Yoongi shouldn’t be a musician.

“Elle,” you replied through gritted teeth. “Doctors aren’t that great. Stop being so
full of yourself.”

Your hands fold into fists, eyes darting at your colleague from afar. That plaster saint
dares to hug Yoongi as he plays despite looking down on his passion. What a—

“Good thing he didn’t injure his hand, right?” Jaebum’s random question breaks your
thoughts again.

“What?” You turn to him, noticing that he’s watching the pianist intently as well, then he smiles at
you.

“Granny, how can you forget while I still remember the basketball game so vividly?” he raises
playfully, nudging his shoulder against yours, “That guy was so mad at me and GOT7 that despite
his injury he still tried to shoot hoops. Just for you. And wow, now . . . he’s in someone else’s
arms.”

The humor in his voice is evident and then he’s snickering at you.

“Jaebum,” your voice laced with threat, “if you don’t fucking stop. Really, I’ll kick you so hard in
the face your nose will bleed.”

Hearing your tone, your friend immediately recoils into a cute puppy, wooing you, “Okay, I’m
sorry. Come on, talk to me.”

You only click your tongue, rolling your eyes as you ignore him but he persists, arms swinging on
your shoulder and pulling you close to him. “Really, I’m sorry,” he rakes but you know he truly
isn’t, so you glare at him.

“I didn’t mean to annoy you that much. Who would’ve guessed that you still had hangups on that
guy? I thought you’ve moved on,” Jaebum jests again, poking your ticklish parts while you keep
the glare on your face.

He chuckles, clinging on you as he purposely annoys you with baby talks you hate the most. “Oh
my granny so grumpy, she’s getting older. The never-ending thoughts of Mr. Pianist Ex-boyfriend
keeping her frowning all night.”

“Jaebum, I swear to god. I’ll throw you off this building.”

He mocks horror before replying with a worried look, “Oh my granny’s bones. She’s gonna throw
me off this building.”

And again, he erupts in a loud laughter, pleased at your vexed face but when you still don’t argue
back, he offers, “Maybe you should punch me? Just so you’ll get that frustration out of you.”

Without warning, you do punch his arm—so hard that he yelps; you sticking your tongue out
childishly.

A little later and the piano music is replaced by other sorts of entertainment like karaoke and live
band. Jaebum invites you to come along with him and his other ophthalmologist friends but you
insist on staying with your department.

Of course, your clingy friend gives you the sad pout but you firmly shoo him away, promising to
hangout next time.

***

Your department knows how to have fun, the humorous stories shared between every employee
has you in stitches that you excuse yourself to pee.

Heading to the bathroom, you’re suddenly blocked by an enraged familiar intern.

Sighing heavily, you breathe in disappointment, “Jungkook, I told you—”

“You’re really leaving the hospital?!” he barks, taking you aback.

“What?”

He cocks his head, throwing assumptions continuously. “You’re that desperate to avoid me?”

Your brows furrow in confusion but a few seconds and you realize what he’s saying. He must’ve
heard about the hospital reshuffling rumors.

“I, uh, yes,” you lie, hoping that it’s the best way to make him stop.

And with your confirmation, he goes furious, knuckles turning white. “You didn’t need to
go that far. Even if you stay, I’m not planning to ever show myself in front of you anyway!”

There’s no point in arguing with him, so you just brush past him, saying, “I’ll keep that in mind. I
hope you do too.”

***

If you’d know how crazy everyone will go in drinking, you wouldn’t have stayed with your
department.

“Great!” you sarcastically breathe, Elle clinging onto you like a legless drunk and you immediately
regret sending Jaebum off early.

If he was here, he could’ve helped you deliver this woman to her own place, but now the task is all
left on you.

You hate her place that you just badly want to leave her or ask Sy to take her home. But as you
look around, Sy isn’t around—probably left with her crush which she’s been talking about all night.

And so you sigh again, a slave to your conscience. Giving in, you take a cab and bring her to her
home yourself.

The whole drive has you planning things out already; drop her off silently and leave immediately.

Those are the only things you should do, you chant, wanting to avoid Yoongi at all cost.

Out of the blue, a drunk Elle blabs, “You know what I hate more than seeing Yoongi on the
piano?”

You roll your eyes and spit, “I don’t—”

“When he takes me to that goddamn Cheonggyecheon Stream.”

With her statement, something snaps inside you, your teeth suddenly gnawing your lips due to
anger. You can’t believe it—his fucking guts.

How can he be so cruel, taking her to places you used to take him to?

Truth be told but you haven’t visited that stream ever since you broke up; the place having too
much memory of Yoongi and all those times you accompanied him to compose, or to just relax and
chill, to talk things out, or just to spend a quick time with each other’s embrace when life became
too hectic.

That place has and will always have a special place in your heart . . . contrasting Yoongi who just
brings other women there, seemingly creating new memories without you.

You never expected him to cross that line; as if replacing you wasn’t enough of a revenge already.

“That place isn’t even pretty!” Elle interrupts those tears threatening to fall from your eyes, “It’s
not even romantic. Probably the least romantic spot in Seoul. What a tacky guy.”

Hey, you’re the one who picked that place and now, she’s dissing your preferences?

Sucking air through gritted teeth, you breathe in and out, knowing that you shouldn’t let this get to
your head. But damn if given a chance, you’d definitely kick Yoongi in the balls for disrespecting
your personal favorite place by bringing his annoying girlfriend there and also for letting her
get this drunk that you had no choice but to listen to her stupidity all night, and probably another
hard kick for being so blind about her.

One day, you’ll surely do that, you swear.

***

The moment you arrive, you stick to your plans; asking Elle for her keys and luckily, as you open
her door, Yoongi isn’t around the living room—probably sleeping in their room or somewhere else.

Nice!

Quickly, you struggle assisting her to the couch, laying her there because that’s the farthest you
can go. You’re sure she’d be thankful if you left her in her living room when you could’ve just left
her on the streets—given how annoying she is.

You try to book another cab through your phone when she pukes, making you toss your device in
panic and concern.

“Fuck,” you groan, scrambling to grab a tissue and a glass of water from the kitchen.

But suddenly, you hear noises from the room somewhere that your mind goes blank, your feet
immediately running to exit the place.

There’s just no way in hell that you’d face Yoongi tonight. Who knows what you might end up
shouting at him, good lord.

Your heart races along with your feet running off, and the soonest you step out of their place, you
stop, catching your breath and congratulating yourself for sneaking her in successfully as schemed.

Wiping the sweat on your temples, you exhale in relief, feeling like Santa Claus leaving secret gifts
every Christmas Eve—except Elle not being a gift but rather a curse.
Damn you, Yoongi.

But when the elevator opens, you cuss, realizing that you’re missing something precious.

Shit, my phone! you grit, hands searching for it in vain but with a heavy heart, your feet drag you
back to the door which you so carefully tried to escape from.

And with a defeated sigh, you ring the doorbell. You stupid fool, you tell yourself.

When it opens, you straighten up yet keep your eyes firmly glued on the floor as you mutter, “I just
came back for—”

“What did you come back for?” Yoongi’s raspy voice cuts you off and you can’t help but wince,
your eyes unintentionally provoked to meet his gaze.

But you’re taken aback with the sight of him shirtless, only a towel covering his lower body, his
hair still dripping wet, small rivulets trickling down his chest.

Your mouth suddenly dries up, your eyes definitely staring at his pale and moist skin and—

“Never mind,” you hurriedly say, turning your back and deciding to just retreat without your stupid
phone. You can’t do this, you just—

A firm hand grabs by the wrist, pushing you against the wall, a palm placed beside your head to
block you from getting away that your heart threatens to burst out from your ribs.

He’s so close. Too close; it makes you jittery.

“What did you come back for?” Yoongi repeats, voice low and stern, making you gulp nervously.

Your eyes waver, your lips having a hard time moving. “I just . . . my—”

His lips press on yours—firm, as if reproaching you.

Then, his hand moves to cup your face in the softest way, Yoongi pulling away for a while just to
look at your eyes before he angles his face, diving on your lips again.

With your lips melding with each other’s, you moan into his mouth and then you’re pulling away
with a whine, “Yoongi, this is wrong.”

He tucks your loose hair behind your ear, his thumb gently stroking your cheek opposing the
piercing gaze he throws at you. “Go on, tell me honestly then . . .” Yoongi challenges, and you try
to look brave.

“What?” you say through gritted teeth.

“That you don’t love me anymore.”

There’s a short pause, your mind taken aback by his inquiry. Do you? you ask yourself and make
up your mind.

“I don’t,” is your answer.

He hisses, eyes shooting daggers at you. “Liar. You’ve always been a liar.”

“Yoongi,” you scold, detaching yourself from the wall. Of course, you don’t like Elle but still, you
respect relationships. “You’re living with someone else now.”

He silently hands you your phone back and you take it.

Head low, you’re determined to leave when he articulates, “You asked me what I see in her . . . Do
you really wanna know?”

Turning to him, you fearlessly meet his gaze, not sure why you’re waiting wordlessly and instantly,
the very first time Yoongi came across Elle knocks in his mind.

It’s in a cafe and Yoongi wasn’t looking his way properly that he accidentally bumped
into a woman in white uniform, her coffee spilling on her clothes as she
gasped, “You’ve got to be kidding me?!”

Ears perking up at her tone and that phrase which reminded him of you, Yoongi
glanced at her, apologizing sincerely, but then this woman insisted that it’s her fault as
she smiled.

Fuck. Yoongi froze in place, dumbfounded by the way her lips curved subtly. Her
smile.

That damn smile . . . that just had to resemble yours.

And that’s when he knew, he’s doomed.

“I saw twenty percent of you in her,” Yoongi reveals, eyes filled with longing and sadness.

You’re caught off guard by his statement, earning your sigh of disbelief. Yes, aside from you and
Elle both being doctors, you’ve heard some employees mentioning that you both have the same
kind of smile, but to listen about this crap from Yoongi just makes you feel so pathetic.

“Twenty percent?” you echo, cocking your head as if daring him to agree. “That’s fucked up,
Yoongi! Don’t tell me you’re just—!”

“You can call that fucked up but I’d take that twenty percent of something like you
that always stays beside me rather than have the hundred percent real you divided into seven
proportions which still has the audacity to leave!”

Rooted to the spot, you stare at him in silence, feeling every word carving harshly in your heart.

Wow, that hurts a lot.

“Seven proportions, huh?” you breathe, tears glazing your eyes with how he reminds you of how
you fractionated yourself for them.

Eyes drifting to the ground, Yoongi bites on his lips, realizing what he just said.

“You’re right,” you yield lifelessly. “What’s fourteen percent of the authentic me compared to the
artificial twenty percent of what you see in her, right?”

A lone tear falls from your eyes as you realize that the numbers really hit you hard this time.
Before you turn into a crying mess, you storm out.
Still, those thoughts haunt you on your way out.

No matter what happens, twenty will always be greater than fourteen. And that fact has your heart
breaking at first, but then the insult sinks in a little later.

So it seems that Min Yoongi would rather have that woman who barely knows him rather than you
who loved him genuinely just because she gives off more than you can ever give them as a whole.

Sadly, that’s all that mattered to him.

***

doc, you left your keys here.

Jimin’s message makes you heave an exhausted sigh. As if today hasn’t been draining you, you ask
the taxi driver to make a U-turn, heading to Jimin’s place rather than yours.

Arriving at his place, you see him preparing to eat a healthy sandwich in the middle of the night but
the sight of you in that dress has him eyeing you from head to toe.

“Have you eaten?” a topless Jimin asks nicely but you’re in no mood to play with him tonight—
especially not after hearing Yoongi say those words.

“I don’t fucking want to eat anything, asshole.”

You ignore him, attempting to just walk straight to the guestroom you stayed at but he argues in a
trice, “Ya, what’s with the tone?” He strides to you with a strict expression of displeasure.

It takes a few seconds to sink in. You turn to him, knowing that you’re displacing your anger
towards him unjustly but you can’t help it.

You look him dead in the eyes before shifting your gaze back to the room.

One step.

And then his hand pulls you back to him aggressively.

“Seems like this lady needs to be taught her manners?” Jimin scoffs, dark eyes glued on you.

Surely, you’re not fazed, the fourteen percent still lingering in your mind. You’re sure he thinks of
you that way too. There’s no doubt; the seven of them must’ve talked about that behind your back
and that idea infuriates you.

Brows raising, you spit, “Oh, yeah?”

“Apologize,” Jimin orders, no trace of humor or any consideration in his tone.

Now there’s a heavy competition between the two of you, fiery gazes clashing against each other’s;
not one backing out.

“Make me,” is your venomous reply.

And all too suddenly, you’re lifted and placed above the concrete kitchen counter; your panties
quickly peeled off from you as Jimin spreads your legs, your dress hunching up your thighs.

“You really like testing my patience, huh?”

Hissing, you glare at him, running your sassy mouth as usual. “What are you gonna do about it?”

He smirks, his hand unzipping his pants and before you know it he fucks you without any
preparation, earning a loud gasp from you.

You grimace at his first unannounced intrusion, the discomfort of being stretched without any
foreplay stings a little that your nails dig deep on his shoulders instinctively.

It’ll probably mark but with Jimin having a great pain tolerance, he absolutely doesn’t care and
perhaps, it even turns him on.

“That’ll teach you not to mess with me,” he scoffs as he impatiently starts to thrust deeper into you.

You bite on your lips, the sensation slowly taking over you. But you’re a fighter—not giving in
without a freaking fight. You tighten your legs around him, taunting back, “I’ll teach you not to
mess with me.” You clench your walls on purpose, knowing how that shit always weakens him
instantly.

“Fuck!” Jimin grunts, his hands firm on the edge of the counter, bracing himself.

You see the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down, his eyes growing darker, making your core
tingle, something trickling out of your pussy and then the subtle pain you feel is now replaced by
pleasure quicker than the ray of light.

He pulls out his cock, only to slam it inside you deeper, making your head fall back in pleasure.

“You like that so much?” he raises, fingers rubbing your clit as he heightens the sensation you’re
feeling.

You moan and moan again, something building in your core as Jimin fucks you raw.

Before you can word out a reply, the sound of your phone ringing surfaces, the both of you turning
to the device.

Jimin doesn’t falter, his hips rocking to and fro, yet his hand reaches for your phone with a smirk.

“Ya, what are you—?!”

He swipes the screen thoughtlessly and hands it to you to answer—a challenging task he’s laid out
since his cock is still swelling, sliding in and out of you.

A thick lump forms in your throat as you struggle to refrain from moaning because it’s the head of
your department on the other line.

“Doc, I’m sorry for calling this late at night,” she says while Jimin runs his wet tongue on a
column of your neck, sending shivers down your spine torturously. You carefully purse your lips
shut to mute yourself. “But it’s about the reshuffle.”

Jimin smirks at you when you manage to stifle your moans like a big girl, but clearly, he wants you
to fail. His hand digs on your waist as he quickens his hip’s pace, the other one squeezing and
playing with your breast that your jaws fall open for a second, before you bite on your lips to
silence yourself.

At this rate, you don’t even understand anything your superior is saying. All you can see is Jimin’s
hooded gaze filled with lust as he fucks you relentlessly.
“Doc, I’m asking you if you’re accepting it?” the head raises her voice a little, startling you. Your
breathing is ragged, your orgasm on its peak but Jimin suddenly stops all his movements, denying
you of it. “Do you want it?”

With raised eyebrows, your fuck buddy, too, silently mouths, “Do you want it?”

Wrapped around his fingers, your head is heavy with desire and longing that you frantically nod,
answering, “Y-yes!”

And Jimin pushes his angry cock inside of you again, jolts of pleasure overwhelming you that you
can’t control yourself anymore. All thoughts of being in a phone call vanishes, the only thing that
matters is your release.

But luckily, the still considerate Jimin is quick enough to confiscate your phone, ending the call
before you’re moaning his name repeatedly.

“You want me that bad, kitten?” he sweetly asks, his lips sucking a mark on your neck while he
thrusts again and again.

The word kitten sounds so beautiful when Park Jimin says it. It makes all other memories of him
calling you that flash into your mind.

He was always sincere, always loving and understanding but . . . this Park Jimin in front of
you isn’t the same man from back then.

This man you’re now with won’t fall for you. Who would fall back for a woman who can only
give fourteen percent, right?!

Your worth has absolutely dropped down to this man, you can feel it in the way he treats you as if
you’re just some random girl he fucks.

And honestly, maybe that’s what you need right now. Just a good fuck from your ex without any
feelings. That’ll do it. That’ll remind you what you’re supposed to be feeling. Nothing.

You should feel nothing for them.

It’s been so long and you’re being so stupidly hurt about trivial matters like what Yoongi said.

But look at Jimin. He doesn’t give a damn about you, or your job that could’ve been jeopardized
by his crude act. He doesn’t give a damn about you. And you should too.

You need to stop holding on to people just because you have this whole history together.

From now on, you promise to help yourself move on. And maybe being fuck-buddies with this
long-moved-on man will help. You’re sure it will, because the more he shows you how much he’s
gotten over you, the more you try your best to show him you’re very much just the same.

Maybe in faking it, you’ll eventually be making it for real.

You come, he comes and that’s just another night of messing around added to your complicated
setup.

Suddenly, before you can clean up yourself, you receive a notification from your supervisor.
 Starting next week, you’re to represent our hospital and participate in the employee
reshuffle for a few months. Best of luck, doc!

“What the fuck?!” you growl, eyes almost bulging out as you reread the message in hopes that the
words would rearrange.

Jimin peeks at your phone and chuckles lightly. He knows your situation which is why he’s offered
you to spend the night on his guestroom before your duty in the neighboring hospital. You
accepted, assured that it’s just a one-time visit just as requested from you a week ago.

“Wow, guess you’ll be needing my place more often, huh?”

Eyes narrowing, you shift your attention to him. “Ya! This is all your fault!” You smack his arm
and he flinches. “If you didn’t answer my phone this wouldn’t have happened!”

Plump lips puckered, he just shrugs. “Not my problem, doc. As far as I recall, you’re the one who
said yes.”

Your glare sharpens and in no time, Jimin is stepping back with a smile, sensing that you’re about
to beat his ass. “Chill. You can just use my place any time you want to. For free.”

“Free?” you echo, brows lifting and he nods without second thoughts.

“Yeah whatever. I don’t mind sharing a place with you anyway,” Jimin declares nonchalantly. Too
disinterestedly that it’s humiliating how you don’t affect him anymore.

If he’s so casual with this, you might as well just take all the benefits you can get from him, right?
Besides, you’d look like a loser if you reject it just because you’re cautious about catching feelings
or whatsoever.

With a hiss, you retort, “No takebacks, you jerk.”

And with that, Jimin gives you the spare key to his apartment.

To be continued.

A/N: Yeah, what’s up?! How you feel?! Well, as you can see . . . everything’s just a mess. Which
scene tugged at your heart the most tho? It’s still post-Yoongi day, so perhaps it’s Yoongi’s after
shower scene. <3 *well, that’s what i ache for the most tho*

Also, I wanna let you know that Prove It will be in a two or three week break. So the next chapter
will by the end of March probably. I know, sucks right? lemme know what you look forward to the
most now. Or who’s the most asshole for you? haha.

But wait, there’s more . . . To compensate for the weeks you’ll miss these guys . . . here are
the interlogues you were asking for last chapter. hahahaha.

✁-----------------------------------

INTERLOGUE 1:

Few days after the mild accident, Taehyung decided that it’s best for him to cut off the open
relationship with his girlfriend. He just couldn’t bear flirting with other women when his mind was
obviously occupied by you.

His ‘darling’ agreed to it but was still so bitter and pissed off that she screwed with a male staff in
the hospital after her appointment with you just to make herself forget him.

INTERLOGUE 2:

“Doc?” Jungkook called but you stayed rooted to the spot, and then your nose bled; panic pouring
down on him.

Fortunately, he strode to you, catching you in his arms as you passed out. And as if the gods were
helping him, his shift in the ER just gave him the privilege to look after you.

After laying you down to stop your nose from bleeding, a senior physician let Jungkook take over
your chart and with permission, he inserted an IV line in your hand with utmost care. You were
looking so pale that he knew you had to be hydrated first and foremost.

“You must’ve been overworking yourself again,” Jungkook whispered, his hands tight on yours.
“Please, don’t scare me like that.”

Your eyes struggling to open, you turned to him. “J-jungkook.”

“What do you feel? Are you in pain?” he asked, assessing your condition.

Mustering the strength left within you, you instructed, “I need PPIs. I . . . feel nauseous. It’s
probably mild ulcer.”

Jungkook heaved a deep sigh at how you’re still trying to be a doctor to yourself. “I got it, doc.
Rest. Your body needs it the most.”

The soonest your eyes shut, he leaned in to steal a kiss on your forehead. “Please take care of
yourself, baby. You got me worried sick ever since Sunny left. She won’t be happy if she sees you
like this,” he said softly, trying to scold you despite knowing you’re unconscious.

He watched you sleep, muttering his rebukes, “I hate it when you skip meals. Yeah sure, you’re a
doctor. Once or twice would be okay, but regularly skipping meals isn’t. I’ve heard your caffeine
intake is quite high as well. You’ve already been having insomnia way back, and by the looks of it,
it probably worsened with how careless you are now.”

Sighing heavily, his placed his forehead on your hand. “If you don’t want me to take care of you,
at least take care of yourself properly.”

The peaceful ambiance was suddenly disrupted when someone pulled the curtain open.

“Ya!” Jaebum raised, startling the both of you. “What are you doing here?!”

Your eyes rolled despite the condition you’re at while Jungkook was taken aback when the
ophthalmologist haphazardly sat on your bed, even lightly flicking your forehead, making you yelp
before he checked your temperature discreetly.

“Jaebum, I’m fine,” you grumbled feebly.

Your friend looked at the IV fluids hooked on you and then his hand instinctively went under the
hem of your shirt; Jungkook’s flustered, his Bambi eyes wide with both anger and jealousy. He’s
about to throw at fit when Jaebum stopped by your tummy.

“You big baby,” your friend taunted, “Just fart your gas out. Come on! PPI, my ass.” He then
flicked your stomach subtly, his head tilting as if listening if there’d be any unwanted sound.

Before he could assess, you pinched him by the arm and scowl. “Stop it or I’ll—”

“You can’t kick my ass if you’re laying on a hospital bed, dummy! If I get another news that you
collapsed once again, I’ll quit my job and be your full-time nanny if you can’t freaking take care of
yourself.” Jaebum reproached brazenly.

Exhausted, you let your worried friend tell you off and promised to never overwork yourself to that
extent again just so he’d leave you alone.

“Go.” You shooed him thereafter while Jungkook was left tongue-tied after witnessing the way
Jaebum talked to you effortlessly.

The man had the courage to say everything that Jungkook wanted to say but couldn’t and that fact
made him unhappy and envious. So envious it felt like a strike through his heart. As if his presence
in your life wasn’t necessary anymore because Jaebum seemed to have his own ways of taking care
of you.

INTERLOGUE 3:

After playing the piano for the hospital event, Yoongi went back to the unit on his own, throwing
himself on the couch with a groan. He couldn’t help but think about you and how everything
played out. Indeed, everything was a mess; the first encounter he had with after the breakup
resurfacing in his mind.

“Hey, stop zoning out!” Dr. Sy called you out, “I was asking you if you think
Yoongi’s boring.”

Everyone silently stared at you, waiting for your answer.

“I-I, uhm I can’t say. I think it’s not my right to judge people I don’t know.”

“But you know him,” Elle asserted, earning a surprised look from both you and
Yoongi.

“W-what?” you stuttered while Yoongi was always better at masking his facial
expression.

“I mean, I just introduced him to everyone a while ago,” Elle clarified. “So technically,
you know him now.”

Curious, he was waiting for your answer too but when you said ‘But I still don’t know
him at all to say such things,’ his jaw clenched in disappointment.

Funny how it seemed that you thought of him as a complete stranger now whereas
he’s never once forgotten about you? Wow, the joke’s really on him. And as if
everybody could read his mind, people chuckled, agreeing to whatever his girlfriend
said that he didn’t pay attention to.

Suddenly, someone concluded, “Yoongi-ssi, maybe your ex was scared?”

 Everyone then considered, humming in response as they took his icy features.

“Maybe.” Yoongi forced a smile and Elle smiled back at him, cupping his face.

“This face is scary?” she prompted, scanning him. “Not scary to me though.” She
pecks him a kiss on the cheek but it didn’t comfort him at all. “It’s okay, honey.
Sometimes men fall for cowards. I’m sure it’s her loss.”

With a half-smile, Yoongi nodded, trying his hardest to believe that it really was your
loss despite him honestly feeling more defeated.

Then the topic shifted, Elle raising a random question, “Come to think of it. I’ve never
heard you talk about your past relationships, doc. What happened? Why are you still
single?”

Ears perked up like a cat, Yoongi couldn’t stop himself from wanting to hear your
answer. So you’re still single?

But you just gave a simple answer. “I guess . . . things just end?”

He bit his lips, the annoyance and hurt creeping up to him slowly but surely.

While the break up almost drove all seven of them crazy as they tried to figure out
what went wrong, for you it just . . . just ended?

How unfair of you.

And maybe that’s why he couldn’t help but bitterly bring it up once you were both
getting the pizza. His brows scrunched as he trailed after you. “Two years and you
don’t know—?” he stopped mid-sentence only to correct himself. “No, I take that
back. Four. Four Halloweens and you don’t know me?”

Stopping in your track, you scowled. “Really, Yoongi?” you snap, the displeasure
evident in your tone as you drag the vowels. “Her? That woman?”

“What about her?” he snarled back.

“She called you boring. Are you stupid? You’ve been acting like her fucking slave,
assisting her and entertaining h e r guests the whole time when you’ve
already clearly told her beforehand that you’re exhausted from work.”

You sounded so annoyed, and it’s obvious that you’re complaining for his stead.

“That’s so un-you!” you growled, “No, it’s not you at all.”

Yoongi knew you were right. He wasn’t himself.

But if he’d be honest . . . he hasn’t been himself ever since you left him.

Why?

Because you took a piece of him, a piece so big that he could feel how incomplete he was without
you.

{BGM: Cold Showers—Chelsea Cutler}

All he wanted was you. All he craved for you was you.

“I need a shower,” he monologued, getting on his feet and heading to the bathroom because those
thoughts weren’t helping him at all.

For normal people, the heater’s a necessity during baths, but it wasn’t always the case for Yoongi.

He’d purposely turn it off, letting the coldest splash of water hit his skin. Like the Jack Frost you
used to think of him, he endured it, the feeling of losing his heat, his body freezing by the lack of
it.

Back then, he used to hate water. Oh, he still did hate it up until now. The only difference was that
he needed it more often.

Showering with the freezing water became a form of punishment for him—a punishment for
thinking of you again. And it turned into a routine, the cold shower snapping him out from
thoughts of his angel; the cold sensation reminding him that you’ve broken up a long time ago and
that you weren’t his anymore.

Every time he did that, he’d manage to get you off his mind and think of the fucking cold instead.
And as if on cue, it worked; thoughts of you substituted with his ramblings.

Yoongi stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his torso and sat on the edge of the
bed.

The shower was calming but just a few minutes out of the bathroom and he’s frowning again.

Damn, that technique used to be effective but now, recalling what happened in that hospital event,
the sight of you and Jaebum clinging onto each other like that, the possessiveness grew inside him
once again.

How dare you let that man get close to you like that? he thought, grunting in displeasure as he
slammed his fist on the sheets. How dare you—

His thoughts vanished when he saw a picture frame of their couple photo across the room, Elle
smiling brightly as she hugged him.

And that image made him sigh heavily, eyes shutting in exasperation.

How could he be so stupid? Living with someone else just to pretend that he never missed you.
Taking any illusions of him still having a piece of you because it’s just too painful to live without
seeing your smile. And maybe that was how he came to like Elle; because of that goddamn smile,
he settled, convincing himself that maybe he could learn to love someone new.

But Yoongi made a big mistake; god knows that he’d do anything to turn back time and—

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, he stepped out of the bedroom and was confused to see Elle sleeping
on the couch but more so, he’s curious as to who’s out there.

And then it was you.

 placebo
Chapter Notes

⌦ Warnings: NSFW, 18+, t e n s i o n, bickering, jealousy, fuck buddy, dirty talk,

degradation, unprotected sex, rough sex, edging, orgasm denial, spanking, spitting, sex
toy, anal, double penetration, emotional roller-coaster 6/?; push&pull has never been
this stressing

⌦ A/N: Yes, this is a chapter sprinkled with filthy smut excerpts, nothing special . . .
well, except for the slight angst hovering in it. *evil laughs* I present to you all,
filtered Park Jimin.

[F.U.C.K.] PLACEBO is a harmless substance prescribed more for the psychological benefit to the
patient than for any physiological effect. It has no therapeutic effect, usually designed merely to
calm or please someone.

Why Placebo? Because Jimin is your placebo. Maybe you think this chapter will heal you and
make things better, but in reality . . . does it really?

“Hey, roommate!” Jimin casually teases as he opens the door for you, your bag and another
luggage of clothes tossed inside his guest room. You don’t know how long the rotation will be, but
more or less, you’ve packed clothes you usually use the most.

Somehow, you still think this isn’t a great idea but looking at him, you see no traces of any
affection, making you sure this will eventually work out just fine.

He doesn’t even stay long in your room. He just returns you your key and says, “Feel at home, doc.
Gotta go.”

Before you know it, he’s gone.

DAY ONE

Jimin knows how shallow you sleep; even with the utmost minimal noise, you’re sure to stir
awake.

Exhausted from med school, you unintentionally fell asleep on his chest, your arm and
leg over his body that Jimin was paralyzed to move, the thought of waking you up just
frightened him that when a Bangtan member entered the room to fetch you both, he
just mouthed a silent ‘Don’t wake her up!’

The other member tried to argue by wordlessly mouthing back a ‘But you haven’t
eaten yet.’

But Jimin just grinned, raising a thumbs up that he’d rather have you sleep serenely
above him than eat and wake you up.

But now even with knowing how tiring your shift at the hospital always turned out or how much
you lacked slumber, your fuckbuddy Jimin doesn’t think twice about marching straight up in your
room to sprawl beside you like the needy man he is—even in the middle of your limited nap.

“Hey there,” he sweetly nudges you to wake as he spoons you.

Your eyes unwilling to open, you murmur, “Jimin, I’m sleeping.”

“I know,” he replies, hands slowly wrapping around your waist as he pulls your body closer to his
chest, “But don’t you want your welcome fuck tonight?”

Still in between dreaming and reality, you glance at him over your shoulder. “What welcome
fuck?”

And Jimin giggles, nuzzling his head on your hair like a cat. “As fuck buddies, I need to welcome
you here in my place, you know.”

“That kind of thing exists?”

“Yeah. You don’t like it?” His voice is so sweet and alluring that the more he speaks, the more
your resistance crumbles.

You squirm a little, pouting, “But I’m tired.”

Again, he tightens his embrace, letting you feel how hard he is for you as he whispers desperately
in your ear, “But kitten, I want you.”

There it is—that damned pet name. That pet name that he rarely uses. Jimin only drags that word
out of the locker if he’s eager about the things he asks of you.
Aside from his needy tone stirring you up, his wet tongue laves your neck and it doesn’t help. In no
time, you’re fully awake, tongues brushing against each other as he fucks you as intended.

Yes, sex with Jimin is paradise; the welcome fuck making your body sore and pussy filled with his
cock.

DAY SIX

It becomes a norm; whether you’re tired or not, he’d wake you up whenever he’s in the mood.

Cuddling a pillow, you feel your bed dipping behind you and then you hear Jimin’s sultry voice as
he envelopes you in a warm back hug.

“Doc.”

You hum, still partly sleeping. “Jimin, I’m tired.”

He brushes your hair off your neck and starts sliding his wet tongue on it. Slowly. Up until he
reaches the back of your ear, eliciting a sensual moan from you while his hand snakes under your
shirt to fondle your breast.

“Are you sure you’re too tired for my cock?”

Damn it. You hate how easily turns you on. Gulping down, you just nod your head and refrain
from making conversations, resolute into wanting to get back to sleep but he doesn’t stop, snaking
his hand down your panties instead.

“But you’re so wet.” You’re sure Jimin is now talking in pout which has always been one of your
weaknesses. “Do you want me to just slip inside you?”

“Jimin, I’m sleeping.”

You say that all the time, but your body is too much of a slut for him to cooperate with the words
you throw. You’re practically rubbing your ass against his hard cock despite that ‘exhaustion’
you’re talking about.

Pleased, he smiles against your skin, his fingers now playing with your nipples. “Are you sure
you’re sleeping?” he repeats, a hand rubbing your entrance. “Or you want my cock to be the
one slipping . . . inside this dripping dirty little pussy of yours?”

Jimin then fingers you, the squelching sound of your pussy stirring you awake. And in no time,
you’re begging to be filled by him just as he schemed.

“Want me inside you now?”

“Y-yes,” you whimper, legs parting as you invite him to own you once again. “Own me.”

Fuck. Two words and Jimin complies, fueled with vigor, raw desire and possessiveness. He pushes
you down on your tummy, straddling your ass. It doesn’t take long before he’s running his dick up
and down your soaking wet hole, letting it slide over your pussy as he penetrates into you.

The soonest after you orgasm, he comes on your back and plops down beside you, catching his
breath after that wild intercourse.

“Clean me up?” you mumble lazily, head turning to him.

With a playful smile, he answers humorously, “Nah, you like it when you’re dirty and smeared
with my cum.”

You smile back, taunting, “Asshole.”

Abruptly, he gets on his tummy too, chin resting on his palm as he looks at you fondly. “So are
you some kind of Park Jimin’s property now?” His question prompts the way you asked him to
‘own you’ an hour ago. “Like a pet or a—?”

“In your dreams,” you cut him off instantly, clearing your throat to stop yourself from blushing but
when it doesn’t seem effective, you turn your head to the opposite side, hiding your every
expression. “That’s just part of the foreplay.”

“You really sticking to the just-sex-policy?” Jimin hisses, playing with your hair. “And you want
me to ignore your little slip of tongue?”

“Slip of tongue?” Your ears perk up, his words provoking you to argue further, “I say what you
want to hear because that’s your kink. You get off with ownership and you love it the most when I
submit to you. That’s plain simple.”

Jimin snorts at your explanation and wages another cocky debate, “But admit it, I satisfy your
needs better than anyone else, right?”

Indeed, there’s nothing but sarcastic banters filled with arrogance and pride between the two of
you.

“Don’t be too full of yourself, Park.”

“Well, given how full my inbox is with messages from women who want me,” he brags, trailing
off.

There goes his cocky attitude, teasing yet again. “I—”

“I don’t give a damn about your women,” you retort with a roll of eyes. “Suit yourself. You’ve
always been a playboy. What’s new,” you taunt, convincing yourself that you don’t have any
feelings of some sort for Jimin.

He’s just a fuckboy, no attachments, you remind yourself.

Lifting an eyebrow, he snorts again. “Coming from you? The most lowkey jealous woman in the
universe, doc?”

Not backing down, he starts getting cockier, purposely annoying you further.

Groaning inwardly, you close your eyes instead, not letting him get to your nerves like how he
plans. “That was way back when I was yours. Not anymore, Park. Not anymore.” Your lips curve
in a smile, putting him in place. “Just wipe up my back and—”

You fail to see how Jimin looks at you with displeasure and before you know it, he leaves without
warning; the sound of the door stirring your eyes open.

Damn, that jerk. Leaving without cleaning up his mess, you curse under your breath, infuriated at
his actions. In no time, you grab a tissue on your own and wipe your back as you recall how things
used to be.
The old Jimin would’ve carried you to the bathroom and even showered with you, whereas you’re
stuck with this fuckbuddy who doesn’t give a damn. You’re left there, thinking about how it feels
different with the new Jimin.

Definitely different.

He doesn’t touch with softness or gentleness. There are no cuddles, especially post-sex. Although,
he may seem to cuddle you before sex, you know that’s just him luring you in and building up the
foreplay.

It’s just pure filthy sex for him now and you’re somehow dragged along. Together, you step into a
different level of kink: the realm of degradation—something you never tried with them back then
because they were too affectionate and sensitive with words.

Ever since that first group sex, they vowed to never be that rough and aggressive—ever; hence,
degrading name calling was ticked off from kinks immediately which the seven of them agreed
about. And you found that endearing, how they gave their best to take care of you and make you
feel loved and respected.

But now, with the relationship long over, Jimin doesn’t care at all anymore. He wants to maximize
the intensity of every pleasure, expertly provoking both of you from time to time and honestly, you
come to love it—hearing his filthy praises gets you off—but aside from that, there’s absolutely
nothing else between you two.

On rare moments, you’d ask each other about your day but you know that’s all shallow topics that
are easily left answered with dismissive replies.

Neither of you goes to confide to one another; no one talks about work nor do about life.
Everything just simply revolves around the sex and the playful banters.

There are times that he tries to act like a friend but most times . . . he’s a douche. A hot douche you
can’t resist.

It’s truly a great setup, but with everything said, you aren’t actually fuck buddies because being
buddies requires friendship and you lack that.

Maybe what this is is just mere ex-with-benefits, the barrier is still obviously there; the physical
contact the only thing remaining.

And right now, that’s the kind of relationship you need—something that lets you fool around yet
pleasure you at its finest.

DAY FOURTEEN

It’s your day off and Jimin happens to stay at home as well. How’d you know that?

Well, that’s because you so awkwardly stumble upon him in the kitchen, the two of you almost
jumping out of your skin in surprise—which only goes to show how awful you both are as
roommates.

You never eat together. You never hang out in the living room. You never bond like normal
people. Again, you only talk on rare occasions—that rare occasions being all just sex-related.

With a sigh, Jimin turns to you. “Wanna hangout tonight?”

He finally breaks the ice, taking you aback. “My friends are inviting me to go drinking. Wanna
come?”

Instinctively, you exchange glances at his last question; your green-minded brains clicking as you
hold in a smile about the ‘coming’ part.

With a chuckle, he explains, “Hey, I didn’t mean—”

“Whatever, perv.” You smile back at him. Perhaps you should go with him and unwind, the stress
of socializing with new colleagues has been draining you since you transferred hospitals.

AT THE BAR

Arriving, you realize that his friends are late and still on the way. Instead of waiting for them in
one corner, the two of you roam around, checking out the bar premises. Not long after, you catch a
glimpse of a billiard table on the corner and as if on cue, you share a knowing look with each other.

“One game?” Jimin raises with a smirk.

You chuckle softly. “Loser pays for the winner’s drink,” you decree coyly, “The whole night.”

“A little too confident, are we?”

Shrugging, you walk towards the area to grab your own cue stick. The game begins and after a few
rock-paper-scissors games to determine who’ll have the first turn, Jimin in a low V-cut shirt bends
slightly, moving his arm smoothly back, directing his stick to the cue ball. But before he hits the
ball, he shoots you a cocky smirk, mouthing a silent, “Watch and learn.”

His plump lips stretch to a smile when a few balls go down the pocket.

“Show off,” you mutter, unimpressed.

You’re both equally good at this; well, you like to think that you are because it’s him and Seokjin
who taught you how to play in the first place.

But a few minutes later, you find yourself defeated by this proud fuck buddy of yours while he
swings an arm around you, feigning sympathy.

“Nice try,” Jimin teases and you roll your eyes in return, a hand fishing a candy from your pocket.
Instead of answering back, you tear it open, tossing the candy in your mouth.

For the first time, you look like normal friends hanging out.

“What’s that?” he asks, peeping at you.

“Candy. Want some?”

With a grin, Jimin says, “Sure. What flavor?”

Reaching for your pocket, you answer thoughtlessly, “Lemon fl—”

{BGM: I Loved You—Day6}

You automatically stop when that word comes out from your mouth and Jimin seems to be as
appalled as you are.

Lemons. That damned word holds too much history in it that you’re suddenly quiet, eyes drifting to
the ground, pretending that it isn’t awkward as fuck.

“I want one.” Jimin throws a curve ball then and there and you scramble to check if you still have
one.

“Okay, lemme get—”

“No,” he cuts you off, stopping your hand from reaching your pocket. “I want the one in your
mouth.”

“W-what?” You look at him, blinking repeatedly; your cheeks burning red.

Jimin firmly demands, “Pass that candy to me.”

“But—”

With no second thoughts, his hand grabs the back of your neck, pulling you in and closing the
distance as he kisses you.

Butterflies explode in your stomach, your hands unintendedly finding its way around his shoulder,
his hands wrapped around your waist as his sneaky tongue enters your mouth. He uses it to steal
the candy from you and you moan, tongues dancing before he triumphs—the innocent sweet candy
taken into his mouth in the most sensual Jimin way.

Pulling away from you with a smirk, he utters, “Guess lemons taste good in the end.”

You’re not sure what he means; all you know is that you’re feeling dizzy with the taste of him,
your heart fluttering abnormally. If you don’t step away from him, who knows what’ll happen
next.

“I, uhm lost,” you stammer, averting your gaze away. “Lemme get us a drink.”

***

Waiting for the drink you ordered in the bar counter, a man beside you suddenly speaks to you,
telling you that he’s been watching your game and ends up giving you a tip on how to beat Jimin.

Wanting to redeem yourself, you listen carefully and thank him afterwards.

With two hands holding glasses of whisky, you return to Jimin but you stop a few meters away. It
seems like he’s quickly found a new ‘friend’ to play with; this random chick bending over the
billiard table as if the way she wiggles her ass against Jimin’s crotch isn’t obvious as fuck.

It’s pathetic and petty, making you hiss. But hey, you remind yourself about the setup you have. If
he wants you jealous, he better try harder.
You approach them casually, handing him his drink like a sport.

“Thanks,” he says before leaning back to the girl, his chest pressed to her back as he teaches her
how to hit the ball properly.

At this point in life, you should be used to it already. You’ve witnessed Taehyung with someone
new, even saw him get back with her after knowing that she’s cheating. Not only that; you’ve been
with Yoongi and his now fiancée in their own co-owned apartment.

Your ex-boyfriends had been meeting, dating and even hooking up with new women who
are not you. And it’s not like you never thought that it’d happen when you decided to break up.
You knew it very well; it was meant to happen.

So now seeing Jimin, your casual fuckbuddy, fooling around with someone else doesn’t feel any
different than the previous scenes you’ve experienced.

It doesn’t bother you anymore, you tell yourself.

His friends arrive a few minutes after, all of you drinking and chatting but the woman never left
Jimin’s side. You’re determined to show him that it doesn’t bother you one bit so the instant you
see him walk out of the bar with her after a few hours, you turn a blind eye, continuing the fun talks
you share with the rest.

Yeah sure, it’s a bit annoying that he invites you to hangout and leaves you with his friends as he
flirts his way out but you oddly remain chill. Maybe being exposed to Jimin doing these things
would quicken your moving on process.

The next day . . .

Raking your fingers through your hair, you step out of your room to eat breakfast when you see
him eating noodles in the dining room.

“What time d’you go home last night?” Jimin nonchalantly mumbles, mouth partly filled with his
food.

Your head cocks as you try to recall but you’ve drank all to yourself more than expected that you
didn’t notice the time you arrived. “I, I’m not sure.”

“Wow, it seems like you had fun yourself.”

Jimin sounds so calm and casual and you can’t help but compare him to the Jimin you used to be in
a relationship with — their reactions are definitely poles apart.

Looking into his eyes, a part of your heart chips away when it’s a stranger’s gaze you see. A
stranger that seems like he’s cool with you spending time with other men. A stranger who has
Jimin’s appearance yet no traces of anything the man used to feel for you.

But hey, you’re cool with that. No big deal.

DAY TWENTY SEVEN

Jimin had already mentioned before that he won’t be going home tonight and probably the next
few days too due to some business trip so you’ve comfortably tucked yourself in bed, ready for a
long-awaited beauty rest when your phone lights up.
 Jaebum: SOS. the cousin’s sleeping over at my place. i gotta get out here before i
kick his ass. where you at?

You sigh, knowing that your friend’s only weakness is that specific cousin of his who annoys
Jaebum to the bones. It’s something he’s shared only to you and now, you look back at all the
times that he’s helped you.

In two minds, you type in your location, but delete thereafter because you actually never thought of
telling Jaebum that you’re rooming with Jimin. Chances are he’ll tease you to death or ask if
you’re that dumb but then again, you know he needs you right now.

With a sigh, you convince yourself. Maybe he won’t figure it out if he just drops by quickly, right?

And so you opt to send your location and as expected, Jaebum rings the doorbell an hour after.

In your comfiest attire, you greet him with eyes filled with concern but he brushes it off with a
remark, “Nice place you have here!”

Instantly, you know he doesn’t want to talk about it—yet. Eyes averting, you scratch an invisible
itch behind your ear. “Uh, yeah. Not mine though but yeah.”

He removes his black coat, hanging it on the coat rack nearby. “Why’d you suddenly move here?
Are you that desperate to avoid Jungkook and Yoongi’s girlfriend?” Jaebum asks, making himself
comfortable on the black couch.

With an inward groan, you bluff, “I told you, I had to accept the hospital rotation! It’s a good offer
and this place happens to be the nearest.”

Raising an eyebrow, he stares at you with suspicion and you grin, changing the topic, “Gramps,
what happened?”

You sit beside him, waiting for him to tell the whole story and he does, then one thing leads to
another and you find yourselves hungry and scavenging for food in the kitchen.

While reheating a kimchi stew, you’re busy chatting and laughing that the instant you take the
bowl from the microwave to carry it back to the dining area, you trip, the stew splattering over
Jaebum’s white shirt in a trice.

With a gasp, you scramble to wipe him clean but your friend only clicks his tongue. “Granny,
you’re too clumsy for your own good,” he says, grabbing your fidgeting hand to stop you. He
snorts softly before lifting his stained shirt off instead.

For a few moments, your eyes widen and then without second thoughts, you stare at him and back
away—only to kick him on his side, reproaching, “Ya! How dare you call me clumsy when you’re
the one who didn’t dodge?!”

Jaebum yelps, eye-smiling at you as he takes back his words in the fear of you kicking him out of
your place. To be honest, both of you are just so comfortable with each other that seeing him
shirtless doesn’t bother you at all.

The conversation continues, you listen to his problem and give out your honest opinions about his
situation. Time seems to drift by quickly that you fail to notice the both of you falling asleep in the
living room—you on the couch, him on the carpet floor.

The next day . . .

You wake up to the aroma of a delicious food but as you open your eyes, you see a still shirtless
Jaebum holding a plate of pancakes as he walks towards the dining table where Jimin—fuck, why
is he here?!—is.

Too flustered to face them, you choose to just cowardly close your eyes again, pretending to sleep
in hopes that they’ll give you a break and just disperse without ever questioning you about the
situation.

“It’s her favorite.”

You hear Jaebum say and Jimin replies dismissively, “I know.”

There’s an awkward silence in between, just the sound of cutleries clinking against a plate when
your friend raises, “When have you been roommates with her?”

Shit, you freeze, knowing that you’ll probably be in trouble for not telling him about it beforehand.

“It’s my apartment,” Jimin answers nonchalantly, “She’s the one rooming in with me.”

“Oh.” Jaebum just nods, shoving a big piece of pancake in his mouth.

All too suddenly, a familiar alarm blares, your eye doctor reaching for his phone with a grin as he
finishes his breakfast rather quickly. “Shit, can you believe that I’m running late?” he humorously
asks your ex. “We really shouldn’t have overslept.”

And Jimin just shrugs with a fake smile.

Quickly, Jaebum gets on his feet, drinking his last drop of coffee before reaching for his coat.
Obviously, he doesn’t seem to mind being shirtless at all. “Thanks for the food,” he says, reaching
for the door and Jimin just nods.

Jaebum turns the knob but before he steps out, he glances over his shoulder with a smirk, adding,
“Oh and please tell granny to keep my shirt. It suits her better anyway.”

Jimin doesn’t reply, just aloof eyes darting at Jaebum; the door closes and you most certainly know
you’ll beat that ophthalmologist’s ass the next time you see him. But right now, your main task is
to remain motionless and so you do.

Walking to the couch you’re lying on, Jimin scans your sleeping form, taking in your shut eyes,
head resting on your own arm, shirt hunched upwards as if a crop top—without even any bra
underneath, and your short shorts that now look like panties since you’re spooning a small pillow.

With your body carelessly displayed like this the whole time, it annoys him; his jaws clenching as
he mutters, “I know you’re awake. Get up and go sleep in your room.”

You hear him but you don’t dare move an inch; the conversation he had with Jaebum isn’t
something you want to get dragged with early in the morning so you keep on pretending to be
innocently asleep.

Jimin clicks his tongue when you ignore him. “Oh, is your body too sore now?” he scoffs bitterly,
“Do you want me to bring you to your room myself?”

Your eyes instantly peel open but before you could word out your ‘No,’ he’s already scooped you
into his arms, carrying you towards your room as if you weigh like paper.
Without warning, he throws you on your bed, your back hitting the mattress with a bounce and then
he’s above you in a flash.

The acceleration of your heart rate is at its peak and the fear of what he’s about to say takes over
that you look away, your eyes glued to the window as if the outside world has your attention.

But with a snort, Jimin reads you like a book, his eyes on your chest as if duly monitoring your
breathing rate. With the gentlest fingers, he tilts your chin to face him, stealing the gaze you refuse
to give him.

There is no smile on Jimin’s face but he brushes his hair back as calmly as he habitually does
before the dark intensity of his piercing gaze lands on you . . . and oh, you know damn well that
you’re screwed.

“You’re mine to use, slut.”

His blunt words sending shivers down your spine, you swallow the thick lump that has formed in
your throat, bracing yourself for the inferno to come. Oddly, you’re nervous and aroused at the
same time.

Instantly, his hand makes its way under your shirt, dragging the fabric along and eventually
revealing your supple breasts. Jimin tweaks your nipple, fingers playing with your bud before his
mouth latches on the other, sucking on it that you squirm under him.

“Ah, Jimin,” you whine, eyes shutting in pleasure while his other hand creeps between your thighs
and onto your clothed pussy.

He peers up at you, tongue now softly flicking your nipple as he teases, “Aren’t you enjoying this
too much?”

Sliding his finger inside your panties, you feel him rub your clit vigorously that your moans get
louder and louder.

Jimin loves seeing you fall apart because of him. It’s the most rewarding sight; a smug smirk
across his face at the fact that he still has your body memorized so well, every part of it that you
crave to be touched and licked and worshiped.

“Please, Jimin,” you cry needily, your fingers threading his soft tousled hair.

He flashes another sexy, alluring smile. “What does my little bitch want?”

You don’t hesitate to answer. “Your cock.”

Snorting, he withdraws his hand from your pussy and his fingers sliding in your mouth for you to
suck. Afterwards, he sucks on the same wet fingers that you sucked and smiles. “Such a dirty hoe,”
he coos, “I’m afraid you need to earn my cock with a little spanking.” With a raised eyebrow, he
pulls away as if giving you enough space to position yourself.

The moment you sit up, he demands, “Undress.”

And you hastily oblige before getting on fours, Jimin not wasting any second—giving your ass a
couple of hard slaps that you whimper although the sounds you make are muffled since your face
is partway pushed into the bed.

Few slaps after and it starts to feel so good; your body tense and excited upon every slap Jimin
gives you.

“Nice,” he goads, spanking your red ass cheek for the last time before he soothes it with loving
strokes. Then he spreads your ass open, his eyes suddenly focused on your tight little asshole and
another idea quickly springs to mind.

“You want my cock, huh?”

Before you can even comprehend a reply, Jimin reaches out for something inside the bedside
drawer. And as you brace yourself, you feel a cold liquid drip on your asshole.

“Shit.” You bite on your lips, his now lubricated thumb circling your tiny hole.

The deeper he pushes his thumb into your ass, the more sensual and somewhat incoherent your
whines become; your wanton sounds rapidly getting him rock hard.

“Guess you should’ve been more specific with where you want my cock,” Jimin murmurs, leaning
forward to grab a handful of your hair. Your back arches as he inches his knee between your legs
and gets you to spread wider as he whispers darkly in your ear, “I’m going to use you and you’ll
thank me for it.”

Immediately, your whole world freezes, your whines and curses stop, turning into a loud groan as
you feel his cock pushing its way into your ass.

“I don’t care however you fuck me, do whatever you want,” you whimper as he puts his hands onto
the small of your back, pushing your body down into the bed as he sluggishly slides his cock out
just to slam back in again; the force of each thrust making you grunt.

“Oh fuck. Faster,” your voice back in a whisper as he thrusts his way in slowly, pulling out each
time after he pushes a little deeper then sliding back in again.

Eventually, Jimin lets go of your hair, his hands gripping your waist as he chuckles lowly, gaining
acceleration to comply with your request and before you know it, your ass cheeks are bouncing to
his rhythm as he plows into you—your response getting louder, you pushing back and encouraging
him to go deeper in your hole. Fuck, you’ve really missed this.

The comfortable but hard pace has both of you moaning out loud; Jimin groaning from the pleasure
of how tight you are while you’re getting lost at how he fucks you into a drunken stupor.

You need more and so you get your hand between your splayed legs, your fingers rubbing and
stroking your engorged clit. Your head falls back in pleasure; slowly, you’re reaching your climax.
“Shit,” you cry, eyes shutting close, your hand moving faster and faster when suddenly, Jimin
confiscates your hands, folding it behind you as he continues fucking your ass.

“Jimin,” you plead, hands trying to break free but he tightens his hold on you sternly, shaking his
head.

“Bad girls aren’t allowed to come.”

Without second thoughts, he pins your body to the bed, pounding and ramming deep into you over
and over until your groans turn into little cries and then a little scream. With one last strong thrust,
he erupts in a powerful orgasm, everything inside of him shooting deep inside your ass as he fills
you with his cum.

You stop pushing back onto him, meekly awaiting his next move. And then, he pulls out, leaving
you feeling empty.

Glancing over your shoulder, you pout. “Jimin, please make me come.”

He kisses your ear before flipping you on your back; your body with a certain heaviness. Not
wasting time, Jimin crawls between your legs, his attention on your neglected pussy. Slowly, he
starts fingering you, knowing how torturous it must feel for you.

“Since when have you started bringing men in my apartment?” Jimin asks softly, the same way his
fingers play with you in the most unhurried manner.

You’re on your peak but god damn, he knows how to keep you on the edge, never letting you go
over it. Panting heavily, sweat forms on your temples as your body heats up. “Jaebum was just—”

“That guy’s persistent,” Jimin hums lowly, and you’re suddenly confused with what he means so
he continues, tone suddenly laced with annoyance, “He always liked you.”

“What?” You peer down at him, brows furrowed as you reply, “We’re just friends.”

Spitting on your clit, his thumb smears his saliva before rubbing slow figures of eight against your
sensitive bud before inserting another finger on you. “My cum dumpster is surprisingly still tight.”

Your head falls back onto the mattress again, heavy with lust. “Of course, I am. You fucked my
ass, not my—”

“Did your friend fuck you better than I do?”

His question snaps your attention back to him. “Jimin,” you retort with a frown at his accusation.

Surprisingly, he halts every movement and scowls back at you. “What? Now you can’t answer?”

“Oh please, he’s just a friend.”

“Didn’t Bangtan used to be just your friends too?”

You let out a sarcastic exhale. How can he make such comparisons?

“Jimin, you were my boyfriends that’s—”

“Ex-boyfriends!” he grits. “Because you left,” his tone turns bitter.

“Jimin, please.”

That’s always been the magic word and Jimin would give anything you asked for. But this time, he
only looks at you aloofly with hooded eyes.

His hand grabbing your jaws forcefully, Jimin murmurs, “Not today, kitten.” He then gives your
lips a peck before casting your face away from him brashly.

Then and there, he gets up, brushing his fingers through his hair as he forces a smirk. “I have every
intention of punishing you, little bitch. This is my place. I get to bring the women I want.” And
then his eyes darken, your anxiety shooting up. “Let your men bring you in their own shitty place,
not here.”

And then in a blink of an eye, the loud slam of the door has you flinching. Only then do you realize
that he just cruelly left you hanging.
Sighing in disbelief, you sit up—now all alone on your bed as you try to figure what just happened.

It’s the first time he brought the past up that it makes you look back too: from Tinder, to becoming
good friends at home, to how he became your understanding and kindest boyfriend.

Despite how perfect he was, he’s always been the scariest when mad and you don’t know why
you’re getting up or why you’re letting your feet drag you out of your room and in front of his door
when there’s nothing to clarify at all.

There’s honestly nothing you should be guilty about. But you can’t help but try to explain yourself
to avoid the complicated misunderstanding. In the end, you consider; maybe you’re really at fault?
It’s his place to begin with, you should’ve been more careful with visitors you allow inside.

So you knock on his door and as you open, you see him topless, a shirt on his hand waiting to be
worn.

“Jimin, I really didn’t mean to—”

Out of the blue, he laughs loudly. “Are you here to apologize?”

“Uhm, I . . .” You slowly nod but he just laughs again, body folding in half. “What’s so funny?”
you ask.

“You apologizing for nothing.” Jimin steps closer to you, sharp eyes meeting your gaze. “Let me
get this straight. I just wanted to punish you and not let you come. D’you really think that Jaebum
guy bothers me?”

You can only stay silent, eyes dropping on the ground.

“Wow,” he fakes fascination. “So my roleplaying really got you fooled back there?” Again, he
laughs before patting your shoulder as if comforting you. “Sorry if I got your hopes up. Too bad I
don’t care if you whore around or bring guys in my place.”

With a shrug, he steps away, turning his back on you and onto the direction of his bed as he puts on
his shirt.

“Just hope you have the decency to tell me beforehand next time so I won’t barge in the place and
catch you like that again.” With a half-smile, Jimin tilts his head as he questions, “Okay,
roommate?”

Tongue-tied, you bite on your lips, nodding before he dives on the bed, grabbing his sleeping eye
mask and putting it over his eyes as if dismissing the conversation.

Dragging your feet back to your room, you huff, climbing on your bed and strangling your pillow
as you pretend that it’s Jimin. Boy, you’re really annoyed at how rude he is.

They say there’s a thin line between love and hate. And now, you’re certain that what you’re
feeling for him is none other than . . . hate. That asshole thinks he can act cocky and almighty just
because you’re kind enough to explain yourself.

DAY THIRTY

9PM. Everything is going smoothly, you bingeing on some series as you lie comfortably in your
bed but the sudden craving for something sweet has you getting up. Another day off of yours and
you probably deserve to spoil yourself at some point.
Grabbing your jacket, you decide to buy an ice cream for yourself but the instant you lock the door,
you cuss loudly, “Shit, my keys!”

If not for your roommate who so stupidly borrowed yours because he left his in his car last night,
you wouldn’t have been locked out of the apartment. But you’ve come into terms that you
wouldn’t call him unless it’s urgent, so you weigh the situation you’re in.

Maybe you should just wait for him to go home?

11:30PM. You’ve finished your ice cream and even ate some street foods. You’ve even taken a
walk around the neighborhood already, but as you arrive at your floor, the door is . . . . still
unfortunately locked, making you dial his number with a huff; he picks up after a couple of rings.

“Ya, where are you?”

Jimin answers, slurring all throughout, “O-oh? At the bar. What’d ya need?”

“I need my keys, Park.”

A few hiccups and he says, “Come get it.”

All too suddenly, the call ends and you yell at your phone, displacing your vexation at the poor
thing. Screw him! You even have to guess which club he is at because he won’t pick up your calls
thereafter.

After trying to rethink where he likes to go, the third bar you visit is where you catch sight of him,
drunkenly giggling on the corner; a woman giggling as well as she reaches to flick his forehead.
And Park fucking Jimin lets her be—the two of them playing with each other, it makes you sick in
the stomach.

With a yelp, Jimin rubs his pained forehead with a groan, the woman chuckling and reaching out to
rub it too.

Marching right up to them, you quickly pull his hands away and flick him aggressively in the
forehead as well. That’ll teach him.

“Y-ya!” he barks, surprised.

“Before you go flirting, can you please return my fucking key so I could get inside the apartment,
jerk.”

But Jimin seems too sozzled to understand what’s happening. With a stupid grin on his face, he
tries to get on his feet but falls off the chair and you know he’s way past the borderline of drunk.

You try to help him up when a woman slaps your hands. “Hands off. He’s my man!”

Your eyes narrow at her, certainly not in the mood to deal with crap at the moment. It might be
easier if you just kick her in the face but you know better. “Oh, please! Piss off,” you bark back,
“‘Your’ man is too drunk to even remember your face tomorrow and he’s probably too bored with
you that’s why he drank this much.”

And that statement leaves her speechless while you struggle to take the drunkard home.

The next day . . .

5PM. You’re sitting in the living room, eyes focused on a patient report you’re working on when
Jimin steps outside his room, hair tousled chaotically, hands rubbing his temples as if it’s the worst
hangover he’s ever had.

The silence is deafening; with you minding your own business, he wobbles towards the kitchen to
make a soup for himself but the instant his eyes land on a calendar, he cites casually, “Oh,
yesterday was your birthday?”

Your hands stop, settling above the keyboard as he adds, “Cool. What’d you do?”

You shouldn’t be affected if he forgot that and even all that he put you through last night. It
shouldn’t matter to you. It’s been years, and birthdays have become unimportant to you too is what
you try to remind yourself but the pout on your lips still unintentionally shows.

“Nothing,” you mutter softly before choosing to resume your typing, pretending his presence
doesn’t affect you.

Jimin carries on, talking about this and that as he walks around the place, brushing his teeth and
washing the dishes but a part of you couldn’t stand the fact that he doesn’t even look one bit sorry
for what he did.

Not at all certain that facing him right now is the best idea—especially when he used to be the one
who makes your birthdays feel extra special as always, you get on your feet, wanting to distance
yourself from him. He was always the most thoughtful that being stuck with this fuckbuddy Jimin
just makes you miss the old Jimin so badly.

{BGM: Close To Me—Laica}

Before you can push your door open, you’re seized in an intimate back hug; Jimin’s chin suddenly
pressed above your shoulder as he murmurs, “Why do you look sad? Do you have something to
say?”

For a moment, your heart melts and you hate how he can still see through you. You try your best to
escape his embrace but he doesn’t let you go, tightening his hold on you even.

“Do you want me to fuck you, birthday girl?” he whispers in your ear lovingly that your eyes drop
to the ground.

“I-it’s not my birthday anymore, Jimin.”

Jimin hums, nuzzling your neck. “Okay, then maybe I should just fuck you as an apology?”

His statement makes you sigh. Of course. Sex. This Park Jimin you’re currently with offers you sex
the instant he gets a chance when you only wanted him to sincerely apologize.

But maybe sex really is the only thing you should expect from a fuck buddy in the first place and
now as his hand makes way to your pussy, you curse yourself for giving in and being excited so
easily.

Then again, maybe sex isn’t so bad of an apology after all?

“Belated birthday, kitten.”

After swallowing his come and straddling him and coming on his cock in return a few minutes ago,
you look down to where he kneels between your legs; Jimin looking up at you with the same lust-
filled gaze you’re giving him.
It seems like there’s an infinite desire within you both but your new-found arousal is mainly
because of his cock and the dildo strap-on he’s wearing that press on your wet entrance.

He claims that he’s purchased the toy the instant you agreed on the fuck-buddy-setup but forgotten
about having it until now. Seemingly, it’s a special item he can use to apologize and he knows you
love it—being double penetrated.

Contrary to few minutes ago, it’s Jimin in control, raising and spreading your legs before he begins
to coat the dildo with your sex juices, easing it in your opening. When your pussy allows the toy to
slide in, he stretches you open by adding his hard cock in the picture.

“Fuck!” you mewl, the sensation bringing back memories of when they used to fill you up that
much. Those thoughts make you incredibly wet and slippery and more welcoming.

Easily achieving a good pace very quickly, Jimin leans to devour your neck. “My whore loves
being fucked like this, yeah?”

And you moan into his ear, frantically nodding; the pleasure rising real quick. It feels so fucking
good.

Pushing your legs up over his shoulders for an even better angle, a ferocious and animalistic Jimin
traps you under him, getting better access to your swollen pussy he’s ramming deep.

Your groans now grunts, the view Jimin ogles is breathtaking, your pink cunt stretched wide,
repeatedly pummeled by the rubber dildo and his angry cock.

The bed squeaking in unison with his hard thrusts, you look at him with your expressive dark eyes,
enjoying the sensations. “Don’t stop. Don’t ever fucking stop!” you cry and that’s when he knew
you’re about to come.

A new surge of blazing fire reaching Jimin’s balls, he pounds you harder, his thrusts rhythmical
and unrelenting that you feel like you’re getting turned inside out. Your body spasms. Completely
out of control, you squeeze your breast, gasping out several desperate “Yes” again and again and
Jimin takes that as hint. He reaches to rub your clit, determined to give you more.

“Cream my cock,” he demands in a hushed tone.

Grabbing the bed sheet, your entire body shakes, your release so powerful that you scream Jimin’s
name as he holds your hips in place until every last wave of shivers wash over your body.

Catching your breath, your eyes shut tight. There’s a certain heaviness keeping you motionless on
the mattress, your body still shaking with the occasional residual tremor from coming so hard and
Jimin pulls out, planting a soft kiss on your lips thereafter.

“Hope you liked my present,” he whispers before excusing himself to the bathroom.

Wow. Great is an understatement for the sex that just occurred.

Aside from the infuriating fact that he showered you with hickeys despite the many times you
pleaded him not to, it’s your best unpolysex so far.

A little later, he returns, the both of you finding rest beside each other’s still naked body. Breathing
in and out, you toss and turn, your alarm finally prompting a few minutes after and you groan
inwardly. It’s 8PM already, time to prepare for your night shift work or else you’d be late.
One final heavy sigh and you try to get up but Jimin’s arm weighs your tummy down, hindering
you from your plan. You turn to him with surprise in your eyes.

“Let me please you all night.” He meets your gaze, his eyes pleading for you to stay.

That offer would’ve been great . . . if he said that yesterday, your actual birthday leave. You snort
in response, saying, “I can’t. I have to go to work.”

With that, you take his hand off you to sit up but Jimin repulses, his head suddenly splayed on your
lap. “Don’t leave, kitten,” he whines in a pout, his eyes blinking at you repeatedly.

You know this act; it’s his aegyo, earning a few chuckles from you as you run your fingers through
his hair playfully.

You’re tempted to stay but no; it’s impossible. Professional, you know you can’t. “Park, get off
me. I can’t be late.”

When you exert yourself to move away, Jimin hugs your hips and argues like a little kid, “Please?”

That one word has all your movements halting. It’s the first time you heard him say that word ever
since you started living with him and you just don’t know how to react.

You sigh, averting your eyes as you reject him as it should be, “Jimin. You know I—”

“Fine. Forget about it,” is his cold reply as he rolls to the other side of the bed, turning his back on
you. It also doesn’t take long before he’s stomping his feet out of your room and into his, your
door slamming loud as usual the instant he leaves.

You shake your head in disbelief at how childish he’s acting. Hey, it’s his fault in the first place. If
he only remembered your birthday, then you could’ve stayed in bed all night yesterday.

After a long relaxing shower, you roam around your room, drying your hair when you suddenly
hear something that puts you out—Jimin giggling with a girl in the living room.

Focusing your senses, you listen more, the girl suggesting, “I think your bed is way better than this
couch, baby.”

And you hear Jimin’s tinkling bell laugh. “You bet it is. Come on.”

Okay, you’ve predicted that these things will likely happen ever since you moved in with him so
you try to get a hold of your emotions first.

Yes, he’s a jerk but you’re in no position to react or whatsoever. He never said your fucking was
exclusive.

You let out a deep exhale, pulling yourself together. You’ve been through a lot. This doesn’t
compare to anything at all, you tell yourself, forcing a smile on your face as you look at the mirror.

Instead of getting frustrated, you’d rather finish dolling yourself up and get to work immediately so
you turn on your blower and turn a deaf ear to whatever’s happening beside your room.

The sound of the blower is quite helpful. For a few minutes, nothing mattered except getting your
hair dry but as you turn it off . . .

“Ah, Jimin! Yes, there. Right there.”

You bite on your lips, your imagination bringing ideas you shouldn’t think of.

Fuck it! you huff. For crying out loud, you hate hearing the woman moan his name. You can’t bear
it and you don’t even know why it stings a little.

For the betterment of everything, you need to get out of there—ASAP, so you scramble dressing up
and taking your white coat along with your stethoscope.

Stepping out of your room, you walk to reach for your sneakers when you see something lying on
the floor. Calico.

You huff another annoyed sigh; the innocent cat key chain carelessly forgotten slowly getting on
your nerves.

Every Bangtan member has gifted you a little something which you cherished and Jimin happened
to buy a couple cat key chains for the both of you which you mutually named Calico.

Most of them gave you accessories except for Seokjin’s stethoscope and Jimin’s key chain. You’ve
grown so fond of it that even after the breakup you decided that it wouldn’t mean anything if you
still make use of those two items. For years, you’ve convinced yourself that you’re just too lazy to
buy a new steth or to attach your key to another key chain.

Jimin used to be so mad when someone gets their dirty hands on Calico. Cherishing it, you used to
wipe it clean together. And now . . . this is how he takes care of it?

Your hands crumple into fists. Honestly, hearing their moans doesn’t compare to the sight of
Calico taken for granted. But then again, maybe it’s part of moving on. Maybe you shouldn’t be so
sappy about stupid things like that anymore?

That night, you leave Jimin’s damned place for work, swearing that you’ll show him how
unbothered you are with his pathetic playboy ways.

After your graveyard shift, you go home—exhausted from work, but as you enter . . . the sight of
Jimin and a woman having breakfast in the dining area greets you.

Don’t let it get to you. Rolling your eyes discreetly, you turn to your room’s direction when
suddenly . . .

“Oh, that’s my roommate.”

You halt, rooted to the spot at how Jimin even has the guts to introduce you.

“Hi, roommate!” chirps the woman he’s with.

Still having enough manners, you dart your attention to them with a fake smile but the second your
gaze meets the woman’s, you’re ticked off all at once.

Her lips then curve into a smug smile. That familiar annoying smile.

“Unnie, I thought you said he won’t remember me?” she taunts, reminding you that she’s the
woman Jimin was drunkenly with that night of your birthday.

Looking confused, your fuck buddy shifts his gaze to you then to his other woman.

“Guess he does,” you reply casually with a fake ass smile to purposely piss her off.
“Every easy woman he brings at home does look the same anyway. So who cares?”

You return your gaze back to the direction of your room when Jimin giggles.

“Don’t mind her, kitten.”

With a half-smile, you instantly glance over your shoulder at his words but it seems like you’re
mistaken.

“My roommate’s just a little grumpy because she’s tired from work,” Jimin adds, his hands
cupping this woman’s face as if comforting her.

She leans on his hands further and replies with her aegyo, “It’s okay. Kitten understands.”

In that very moment, your heart goes numb to the point where you wonder if it’s possible if it stops
beating. Your body stiffens, jaws clenching as you realize that he calls her with that fucking pet
name too. You’re angry and chagrined and embarrassed and frustrated and upset but you’re better
at concealing what you feel now.

Yes, you’re breaking down inside into millions of pieces, the sting slowly but all at once taking
over your whole system. It hurts but you chose this. In addition to that, Jimin doesn’t have a clue
and perhaps he doesn’t even care, too busy flirting with his woman.

Looking back, Jimin has been messing around for quite awhile already. He’s walking all over you
but that’s because a part of you is still not over him.

If you’d think about it carefully . . . everything he does is normal. If you’ve really moved on, who
cares if your roommate brings women? Right? The first one who gets affected, loses.

Chapter question: Will you lose to Jimin?

A/N: How you feel? I’m not sure what to expect from your reactions tho. Do tell me about it. I’m
dying to hear! :D

You’ll never know how painful casual fucking can become until you do it with someone who used
to make love to you and treat you like you’re the most precious human in the world.
You think degradation is hot. (in some fics, it is. But when Prove It Jimin degrades you like this?
why does it hurt? haha. maybe because his Thesis It Jimin lingers a lot inside our heads)

Well, there’s no use in crying over spilled milk. Maybe Jimin just . . . got over you. Any
assumptions or theories about this? I’m all ears.
 penicillium
Chapter Notes

⌦ Warnings: t e n s i o n, bickering, swearing, degradation, jealousy, pining, fluff if

you squint, finally a small breakup flashback revealed 1/3, a surprise you never want
to have, may trigger too many feels, emotional roller-coaster 7/?; too-many-guys-is-a-
heartache-chapter; push&pull has never been this stressing; i am sure some parts will
leave you speechless

⌦ A/N: I don’t even know how you’ll feel, but thanks for sticking with me until
now. I hope you all know that I love writing because of all of you, guys. Happy
reading! Here’s the Xth chapter, mentioning all the Xs. ;)

Also, sorry for this long chapter. I guess, you can read it slowly and savor it cause
next update may be after two weeks. && thanks for those who gave song recs. If you
think you love angst, go listen to it while reading or afterwards? :D

So, buckle up for another tough ride? Ya ready?!

[F.U.C.K.] PENICILLIUM is a fungi that produces penicillin, a drug that kills or stops growth of
bacteria.

Why Penicillium? Because this blue mold happens to be one of the first antibiotics discovered. Just
like one of the first friends you’ve loved, Namjoon used to be your medicine.
THURSDAY

{BGM: Worst of You—Masie Peters}

“Don’t mind her, kitten.”

With a half-smile, you instantly glance over your shoulder at his words but it seems like you’re
mistaken.

“My roommate’s just a little grumpy because she’s tired from work,” Jimin adds, his hands
cupping this woman’s face as if comforting her.

“It’s okay. Kitten understands.”

In that very moment, your heart goes numb to the point where you wonder if it’s possible if it stops
beating. Your body stiffens, jaws clenching as you realize that he calls her with that fucking pet
name too. You’re angry and chagrined and embarrassed and frustrated and upset but you’re better
at concealing what you feel now.

Yes, you’re breaking down inside into millions of pieces, the sting slowly but all at once taking
over your whole system. It hurts but you chose this. In addition to that, Jimin doesn’t have a clue
and perhaps he doesn’t even care, too busy flirting with his woman.

Looking back, Jimin has been messing around for quite a while already. He’s walking all over you
but that’s because a part of you is still not over him.
If you’d think about it carefully . . . everything he does is normal. If you’ve really moved on, who
cares if your roommate brings women? Right? The first one who gets affected, loses.

And you refuse to be defeated.

Pulling yourself together, you’re about to turn back to your room as composed as you can but the
woman suddenly stands, leaning into Jimin to peck his lips despite your presence.

“Later, baby.” She smiles at him before leaving the place.

Your blood runs cold for a second before it boils inside you as if it’s in the pits of hell. Fuck this,
you’ve been so exhausted at work that witnessing bullshit this early in the morning makes you so
freaking mad.

Forget about losing to Jimin! You’re not having any of this. Definitely not gonna let that scene slip
off without a fucking say at his disrespectful manner.

“So you let her call you ‘oppa’ too?” you shoot him a sarcastic question, changing your plans of
sulking in your bedroom into fiercely staying with him for a very awkward breakfast. Peace and
harmony be damned!

Taking a bowl and getting ready to eat with this motherfucker, you’re just so pissed off that you
ought to let him feel it; you swear you’ll get him humiliated with the act he just pulled off but
Jimin seems to stay unfazed. He only hums as if carefully thinking about your question.

“Sometimes.”

That one blunt word breaks your stone-heart that your eyes can’t help but turn glassy. So you really
aren’t any special to him at all anymore?

You drop the spoon to your cereal and immediately grab your bag and coat that obviously confuses
him.

“Where are you going?” Jimin queries aloofly.

You scowl at him, gritting. “I’m leaving.”

“You just got home and now you’re leaving? Why so soon?”

“Living with you is a big mistake!”

“Why? Why is it a mistake?”

The serenity and calmness on his face triggers your fury further that you begin to shout, “Because
you’re a fucking jerk!”

Your tone has his face crumpling into displeasure. “Jerk? For what?”

Damn, his ignorance really is something, huh.

“I don’t know! Why don’t you go ask your ‘new kitten’ about it?” you spit thoughtlessly, your
hand reaching for the door but Jimin is quick enough to stride and stop it from opening.

“Oh c’mon! Don’t tell me you’re jealous, doc?” He smirks, blocking the only exit.

How dare he poke fun at you at a time like this? Jealousy isn’t even half of what you’re feeling—
it’s utmost disrespect!

Your eyes turn into slits and you’re shouting at him again, “I’m fucking not!”

Suddenly, Jimin snaps, eyes equally narrowing like yours. “Then fucking stop whining like you
are!”

You freeze in place, startled by the first time he’s ever raised his voice at you.

“You shouldn’t even be jealous of her cause she’s not even half the slut you are,” he says, fingers
tilting your chin as he looks you straight in the eyes. “That bitch couldn’t take my cock the whole
night.”

It feels like a nightmare; your heart shattering into pieces with what he’s saying. Suddenly, it’s
terrifying—how this man is such a stranger to you. The Park Jimin you knew would never talk to
you this way but maybe he really did change.

The awful truth hits you hard; unlike you who’s pretending to have moved on, Jimin really doesn’t
love you anymore. You lose.

In no time, tears are forming in the corner of your eyes, glazing it, and before you know it, you’re
helplessly crying.

A defeated “Fuck you” is all you can reply to his insults but he stays firm in front of you,
determined not to let you leave.

Jimin raises his eyebrows, delighted with his victory. “Oh, you wanna suck my cock right now?”
he even taunts, sarcastically fumbling on his belt.

Who is he? you ask, staring into his cold eyes. This guy in front of you . . . is not the same man you
fell in love with.

“You’re horrible!”

You leave him by the door, deciding to get more of your stuff inside your room and he follows.

“What’d you want me to do, kitten?” he scoffs and the fucking pet name disgusts you.

You halt, voice laced with rage as you warn, lips quivering with too much emotion, “Stop calling
me kitten.”

He hisses at your statement and counters brazenly, “So you want another nickname then? Want me
to change yours to pussy or cockslut or—?”

Slap! Your palm hits his cheek instinctively.

Face tilted heavily to the side, Jimin freezes for a few heartbeats before he shifts back his gaze to
you. His eyes darken—the scariest eyes you’ve ever seen.

“Why are you so fucking mad?!” he growls, “What’s so wrong about that when you used to do that
to the seven of us all the time?!”

Your body stiffens at his retort, reminding you of the setup you had back then.

“You call us baby, or love, or whatever sweet shit that crossed your mind!” he grits, eyes piercing
at you without mercy. “You used the same pet names to all of us! You even say ‘you fuck me the
best’ to all of us! Yet we never complained. But now what?” he stresses, shaking his head in
disbelief, “You cry when I call someone else ‘kitten’?! As if that word only belongs to you?!
You’re not even my girlfriend.”

His statements are so heavy that you suddenly have no strength to meet his gaze.

“You’re selfish! I hope you fucking know that,” Jimin spits, you trying to swallow every damn
thing he said like a hard pill but he adds, “And you’re such a drama queen too! If you’re done
crying, lock the door. Or go, I don’t even care.”

In the end, he’s the one who marches out of your room, slamming the door due to annoyance and
you’re left there, crying because he’s right. It seems like you’ve miscalculated a few things.

Your hand instinctively clutches your chest as you break into sobs. Everything Jimin said was
heartbreakingly true and you feel helpless.

Indeed, the pain is worse when you don’t have the right to feel it.

But maybe you do deserve this. The worst of Jimin.

***

You go back to your own place, packing a few stuff before you drive your car to the countryside
but then the emotions have you crying again and the exhaustion from work follows thereafter,
making you fall asleep on your bed.

FRIDAY

Scrambling to get ready, you shower as quick as you can, knowing that you’re already running late
for the wedding you’re to attend.

You jump in your car and start driving to Ilsan, your hometown. Eyes traveling to the rear-view
mirror, you curse, seeing the hickeys Jimin has inconsiderately left.

You’ve promised to stop crying over him and leave his damned place the second you get back
from this quick event.

“Asshole,” you click your tongue, reapplying your concealer on the red big marks on your neck.

Heading straight to the chapel instead is the best decision you’ve made so far. Relieved at how you
make it just right on time, you spring out of your vehicle and find the bride near the chapel door;
the entourage already walking in.

Panting, you apologize, “Nana, I’m sorry for being late. I’m such a useless maid of honor. I—”

With a look of surprise, the bride embraces you. “Nonsense, my dear. I couldn’t be any happier to
see you here today.”

You pull away, still looking guilty but she just nudges you lightheartedly.

“Cutiepie, go on. Let them see how beautiful my baby is.”

With glimmer in your eyes, you stare at her lovely wrinkled face, the genuine smile plastered in her
lips always makes you at ease. And you smile back, realizing that some things just never change.

You give her another tight hug, whispering, “Can’t wait to see Pops. I bet he’s on cloud nine to be
marrying you again.”

She chuckles and that’s when you scramble to line up behind the other familiar bridesmaids. The
coordinator then signals you to walk in and you comply, flashing a soft smile as you hold onto a
small bouquet of blue flowers.

It’s ironic how you’re all dressed up in a dusty blue lace dress; all eyes on you as you walk in an
aisle despite not being fond of the idea of weddings. Ever since the breakup, you’ve always been
the type to decline being part of any entourage just because you don’t like the feeling of sauntering
in such events but there’ll always be exemptions . . . and today is one of those days.

You can’t miss this couple’s fiftieth wedding anniversary; their renewal of vows means the most to
you that it automatically outweighs the discomfort you feel towards weddings.

Another thing that makes you excited is seeing the look on your Pops’ face. You know he’ll be
smiling big the instant he sees you and you wouldn’t trade that for the whole world.

A few steps more and you anticipate his reaction and there it is . . . the closer you get to the altar,
the closer you see the happy groom. As expected, his eyes widen at the sight of you at first but
then his adorable smile follows.

He words you an inaudible ‘I miss you, cutiepie’ and you reply back with a soundless ‘I miss you
too’.

It’s all serene and laidback walking until you catch a glimpse of someone standing beside him. The
best man.

{BGM: You Said You’d Grow Old with Me—Michael Schulte}

Literally the best man you once knew. The best friend you once had.

Kim Namjoon.

Caught off guard, your brain stutters for a moment and then suddenly, everything blurs away; the
subtle sound of the piano as you walk the only thing you hear as your eyes zero on him. Every part
of you goes on pause, your thoughts struggling to catch up.

So this is what it feels like seeing someone you loved as you walk down the aisle?

Racing, your heart leaps, contrasting your galaxy that seems to slow down at the sight of Namjoon.

In a nice suit and tie, he’s standing tall, his hair neatly brushed back, his chest seemingly broader
and—

A thick lump forms in your throat as your eyes accidentally lock with his—damn, those beautiful
and gentle monolid eyes of his.

Instinctively, you avert your gaze, dropping it to the innocent flowers you’re holding. Why does it
feel like the wedding halls suddenly became smaller? Or perhaps that’s just the guilt suffocating
you?

You absolutely didn’t see this coming. Your mom has told you that Namjoon couldn’t attend, so
why is he here?

But then again, there’s no point in worrying about that. What’s done is done. And today isn’t about
you or him or the history between you; it’s about the couple you both love so you do everything in
your power to remain unabashed. Heaving a deep sigh, you keep your eyes down until you reach
your seat.

The wedding commences, the usual ceremony taking place. Everyone is all ears especially when
it’s time for the bride and groom to exchange their renewed wedding vows.

Your Nana goes first, her voice trembling slightly but maybe that’s just due to old age. She can’t be
nervous. You know her too well.

She goes on with sweet promises and flashback stories that have the crowd swooning and
chuckling.

“You’re the first man I’ve ever loved and I assure you, you’ll be the last. Even death couldn’t keep
us apart. I loved you for sixty year and still do. Happy anniversary,” is what she says lastly as she
puts the ring to your Pops’ finger and you pout—a happily touched yet somewhat envious pout—at
how genuine it sounds.

Those two have always been your favorite couple; their love story has always been the most
romantic nonfiction piece for you. And somehow, deep inside, you want . . . no, scratch that,
you crave that kind of love too.

Then your Pops turns his microphone on with a smile and you can’t help but smile as well,
knowing that his humor will probably be the highlight of this day.

Holding onto a piece of paper, he clears his throat and starts reading his vows. “‘Forever,’ you said
and so . . . forever it is,” he trails off, earning a few ‘aww’ from the crowd immediately. “You
know I’m a sucker for you, sweetheart. I’d do anything for you. I’d marry you in every place you
deem special. I’d marry you on a beach as we look at the sunset, promising to watch thousands of
sunsets thereafter together. I’d marry you in a garden filled with flowers which you love the most.
I’d—”

“That’s sweet, pumpkin,” Nana cuts in with a giggle, making Pops smile.

“Yes, I know, darling. Now let me finish.”

The audience chuckles lightly at how adorable the two converse but Nana doesn’t seem to back
down, replying further, “It’s sweet but I think you forgot that I’m allergic to flowers.”

Again, the crowd laughs as the bride jokingly folds her arms, eyebrows raising at her groom. “To
whom do you really wanna get married in a garden?”

The chuckles now turn into laughter.

“Okay, fine. I was about to promise that I’d always be true so I might as well just admit this before
you divorce me on this altar,” kids the groom; everyone growing so fond of them further while you
shake your head with a smile.

“You know I’m not the smooth-talker,” Pops continues and you nod to yourself, knowing that he
really isn’t. “So I got a little help. These vows I’m reciting are all written by our little Namjoonie
who’s not so little anymore.”

The revelation has your Nana shifting her gaze to the best man. “Aww, we love you, sweetiepie.”

“Yeah. You know us men. We help each other,” Pops adds, bragging even, “And my brilliant
grandson is a songwriter, by the way. He writes for a living and so I asked him why not write my
vows too?”

The crowd is now in stitches, the smile on everyone’s face never leaving.

“All I had to say was . . . ‘Joonie, write me wedding vows for your best friend.’ And here we have
it, folks. The vows which we all could relate to, except for the whole flowers because my wife is
apparently allergic, you know.”

{BGM: Book of You and I—Alec Benjamin}

Oddly, you can’t process anything after hearing the word best friend. It’s suddenly not funny
anymore. Your mind formulates no thoughts other than to register that you’re flabbergasted. You
uncontrollably steal a glance at Namjoon but your gazes meet when you find him looking at you as
well.

Awkwardly, you pointedly look away, eyes solely focusing on the bride and groom.

“Now can I continue?” your old man asks politely.

Marry you in a garden filled with flowers? Fidgeting, you’re suddenly on the edge as you listen.
Why does it bother you that Namjoon wrote it thinking of a best friend? He’s an intelligent man;
for sure, he must’ve patterned it to their love story and nothing else.

Don’t overanalyze, you tell yourself.

“Let’s get back to the marrying, shall we?” the groom asks and the bride agrees.

Continuing where he left off, Pops proudly states, “I’d marry you anywhere. I’d even marry you
while we’re in our pajamas because believe me, every day I wake up to your beautiful face . . . it
just makes me wanna marry you all over again.”

But your heart is hardly beating correctly and you think it has affected your brain because you,
yourself, couldn’t figure out why you’re thinking of such things. You shouldn’t be imagining
Namjoon saying those words to you nor should you be replacing the elderly couple who stands in
front with you and him as if it’s your own wedding.

You shouldn’t but it’s as if you have a mind of its own; you can’t help it. Your mind automatically
does it for you.

In your mind, Namjoon is wearing a black tuxedo, holding your hand as he stares at you with
fondness; despite your wedding veil hindering, you can see his eyes glassy with tears of obvious
happiness.

Time stands still as he whispers, voice low and as manly as can be, “I’d marry you in the morning,
or even at noon . . . maybe even in the evening or if it’d be possible in daybreak too. Just so I could
show you how much my world revolves around you. I love you, my best friend. And every passing
day, my love will outgrow the love I have for you yesterday.”

A lone tear falls down your cheek despite you trying your best not to cry.

“I’d love you in every lifetime I’ll live in and I’ll marry you over and over again because having
you in my life is the best thing that ever happened to me, my wife. I love you.”

Gently, Namjoon takes the gold ring and slips it on your finger; your lower lip in between your
teeth as you hold back the tears and thankfully, the officiant instructs, “You may now kiss the
bride.”

Without further ado, your best friend pulls your veil away from your face and there, he doesn’t
think twice to kiss you, his plump lips pressing on yours as he seals his promise.

A loud applause comes from the audience, making you pull away from each other with a smile.

That moment already feels so magical and yet Namjoon furthers, “Everyone has a best friend, a
true love, a lifetime partner. And I think I’m the luckiest because all those three are
the same person in my life—you.”

You’re well aware that all of this is just a reverie of yours but suddenly, hearing those sentences
alarms you, confusing you if you’re truly in an imaginary world substituting the couple in front or
in the bizarre reality you can’t explain.

Why? Because it sounds so familiar and real. In fact, you snap out of the illusion abruptly, groom
Namjoon becomes groom Pops who continues his vows as you return to the reality where you’re
both sitting poles apart.

With that, you glance at him from the other side and see him looking down on the floor as if
avoiding you.

It only makes you sigh in disbelief, your mind traveling back to the time when he actually did say
those exact same things to you. If you’re not mistaken, it was a few days before the breakup.

In the middle of night, you’re halfway through an angst novel you’re reading but
sadly, the characters you rooted for didn’t end up together and you’re so frustrated that
you closed the book, catching the attention of Namjoon who’s innocently writing
down lyrics beside you.

Full pout, you scowled at him, arms crossed over your chest as if in a bad mood
already. You didn’t have to utter a word, Namjoon just reached for your book, peering
at the bookmarked page you left off.

Regardless of the numerous paragraphs, he instantly smiled, sure of which part had
you reacting like this. Like the best human in the world, he took you in his arms,
planting a kiss on your forehead as he whispered, “Everyone has a best friend, a true
love, a lifetime partner. And I think I’m the luckiest because all those three are
the same person in my life—you. I hope that’s something that could cheer you up.”

With that sappy flashback, there’s a sliver of hope that he might’ve thought of you while writing
those vows but enough about those petty assumptions because again, it’s not about you and him.

So what if Namjoon lends those exact phrases to Pops? It was undeniably sweet, and rather than
wasting those words to someone like you, at least it’s your most favorite couple who made use of it
on an amazing day like this, right?

***

After the ceremony, everyone gathers for the photoshoot with the old couple and of course, they
drag you and Namjoon in between them for a few photographs.

“Your mothers told us you’re both busy,” says Pops as he puts an arm around your shoulder, still
smiling big to the camera. “So we thought neither of you could come.”

“But sweetiepie visited last night,” Nana shares, fondly clinging onto Namjoon. “And it made us so
happy that one of you could make it.”

“Group hug!” the photographer instructs and the elderly don’t waste time, complying.

“It’s so nice to have both our little pies with us!”

Despite the slight discomfort of getting squished between Pops and Namjoon, you force a smile,
ignoring how your bodies press against each other for a quick few seconds.

***

Weddings mostly have receptions after but aiming for a simple celebration, close relatives head to
the venue—which happens to be the old couple’s house which sits a few blocks away from the
chapel—for an intimate gathering.

Walking together around the village feels nostalgic. The whole neighborhood always cherished the
old couple, and so you see so many friendly faces inside as well.

The funny thing here is you also get to spend time with your old friends—your childhood
neighborhood friends: John, April, Mei, Julie and August.

With Joon and you, the seven of you used to be the kids-next-door who played together every
weekend, sneaking around for adventures to the point that you stumbled across the patio of a
married elderly couple who didn’t mind having youngsters trespass.

Instead of shooing you away, they even welcomed you warmly, serving cookies and milk every
time you sneaked in.

In no time, their patio became your hideout and the couple became your second parents; sadly, they
didn’t have kids on their own, making them grow fond of all of you—well, the couple loved
everyone, but you and Namjoon were the obvious favorites.

Yes, that couple is the same couple who just renewed their vows a few hours ago. And spending
time with these familiar people instantly makes you feel so nostalgic.

There’s a lot to catch up with them. You used to call them the Calendar Crew due their
coincidental month nicknames—or maybe kids were just that tacky back then.

Conversations whirl around, from how everyone was doing, their families, their careers, their life
plans. A few moments later, the topic revolves around today’s wedding.

“In the end, it was Joon who made Pop’s vows. What a sleek man he always was,” John jests,
drinking his glass of wine.

The others reply in chuckles, Mei turning to Namjoon with a beam. “What were you thinking?”

His lips curve in a soft smile. “Just, uhm . . . got inspired by books,” Namjoon says sheepishly, still
avoiding your lingering gazes.

“You’re a genius! You can make my vows too!” August exclaims with excitement, earning a quick
pinch in the ear from his now fiancée, April.

He yelps, but sassy April just grins, cheeky eyes shifting to you. “I thought you were thinking
of this girl,” she stresses, slinging an arm around you as she waggles her brows at Namjoon. “Isn’t
this woman your best friend?”

Damn, you feel your cheeks start to burn but before any of you can answer, August butts in, “Of
course, she is. God, remember how inseparable they were back then?”

And instantly, the five others team up against you and Namjoon.

“Yeah. No one can forget how protective Joon was,” Julie hisses, reminding everyone.

August agrees before turning to you. “Yeah and how Joon has been chickening out to ask you out.”

Eyes almost bulging out, his statement makes you choke on your drink. What in the world are they
saying? How the hell do they know all that?

“Tell me doc,” April rakes slyly, “—did Joon ever make a move on you?”

In your peripheral view, you notice Namjoon’s mouth opening and closing as if trying to formulate
something but knowing that it’s no use, he just ends up drinking his liquor; the five others have you
cornered in a hot seat.

With the long years of not seeing them, you’ve forgotten how much they ship the two of you.
Currently, you may be flustered but you shake your head in response, covering for you and
Namjoon—nobody needed to know anyway.

A bit disappointed, all of them leans back to their chairs.

“I’m impressed he really did stay true to his word,” John hums in suspicion, side glancing
Namjoon. “He used to tell me that he didn’t want to ruin the friendship you’ve built.”

“The same old not-ready-to-take-a-chance excuse?” August guesses and the others nod as if
everything they’re saying are known facts. “That ‘the consequences should be carefully thought
of?’” he quotes, imitating how the young Namjoon used to always say that.

The girls giggle at that while Namjoon just hisses with a smile in the corner.

“Middle school smartypants,” John—who used to want to court you but got cockblocked by your
best friend—scoffs teasingly, scowling at Namjoon, “But also a coward move.”

The understanding Mei enlightens as if the two of you aren’t sitting with them, “He was too scared
not to lose her that he just settled for platonic friendship.”

Julie backs her up. “And hey, most people hate losing. I don’t see any problem with that.”

It’s no surprise how talkative everyone is. This is how they usually were even back then, rendering
you and Namjoon quietly sneaking into the library to read books or comics instead.

Those were the days; but right now, as you side-eye him, you realize that the two of you’re still the
quiet ones of the group.

Namjoon remains silent, just laughing along and drinking and somehow, you discreetly wish you
could read his mind.
After everything the others have said, what is he thinking? Is he having the same thoughts as you?

Of course, you came to know that Namjoon had feelings for you since you were kids. In that two-
year relationship you had, he told you everything—well, maybe he forgot about the part where the
whole calendar crew knew about his feelings for you too. Perhaps it was obvious even way before
but you were just too naive to notice.

As you slowly look back, you drown in thoughts, reflecting on what happened between you. They
were right, you used to be inseparable . . . but unfortunately, in the end, Namjoon’s careful thinking
was all in vain because he still lost you. And perhaps, you’re to be blamed.

Zoning out, you pay no heed to the conversation taking place until a heavy sigh escapes Namjoon.

“Why can’t you let go of the idea of us? It’s been years,” he humorously debates, catching your
attention.

Julie scoffs in response, “Oh that sucks. You should’ve confessed. Now you missed half of your
life, Joonie.”

Apparently, Julie’s filled with confidence to say that, especially after having her own wedding.

With eyes twinkling, April asks, “What’s it like marrying your best friend, Juls?”

“Marrying my best friend . . .” Julie answers with mirth, “—is truly the best decision of my life. No
shit. It really is.”

But John counters with negativity, “Doesn’t it get boring? What’s there to discover when the man
already knows you that well?”

“Well, no,” Julie responds casually, “The golden rule is to never let your friendship die even after
being in a relationship.”

And you don’t know why that golden rule hits something inside you; Namjoon and you spacing
out after listening to her that you didn’t notice they’re already having a toast. Hence, the others diss
you, obliging you both to drink up—teasing and demanding a love shot from their favorite OTP.

“Come on! Drink up, you pussies!” August roars with mischief, hands stomping on the table as he
urges you to stand up and take your wine glasses.

Boy, it’s awkward; your cheeks are turning pink and all of a sudden it feels like high school all
over again. Stupid peer pressure, you mutter in silence, staying put and just acting unbothered
when Namjoon meekly gets on his feet, earning a few loud cheers from the rest as you follow.

Louder than bombs, your heart thumps and immediately, you’re nervous and edgy.

Namjoon isn’t the type to play along with such childish games but here you both are—holding
onto your drinks as you stand in front of each other after those long lonely years.

It’s agonizing how attractive the man you’re facing right now that you can’t help but look away.

“Go on! Drink up!” they urge.

Wanting to get this over with, you step closer to him but when you reach your drink towards him,
waiting for him to link his arm around yours, your friends jeer in disapproval.

“That’s so old-fashioned!” John grits, “Love shots nowadays are via arm around neck, you losers!”
Bowled over, Namjoon turns to them with wide-eyes. “What?”

They all laugh at how clueless the song writer is while you’re out there, biting your lips discreetly.
You often go to bars. Of course, you know how modern love shots are made. You just didn’t
expect that these guys would be so up-to-the-minute too.

April teases, “Come on, doc! Aren’t you the party animal?”

“Compared to Joonie, yeah she is!” Mei responds with humor. “Teach him how!”

Shifting his attention to you, Namjoon seemingly waits for your next move and so you step a little
closer to him, making your ‘fans’ go wild.

But as you meet his gaze, the world goes mute and you realize how much you’ve forgotten how
huge and tall your best friend is.

You press your free hand on his shoulder, speaking softly, “Bend down a little so I can reach you.”

And he complies, adjusting without complaints. Tiptoeing, you lessen the distance, curling your
arm around his neck which makes you get a whiff of his overwhelming and intoxicating scent.

Damn it, Namjoon always smells so fucking good that you have to refrain from moving closer or
you’ll be too obvious.

Following your lead, Namjoon locks his arm around you too and instinctively, his other hand lands
on the small of your back, supporting your balance as you tiptoe.

It’s dizzying, this physical closeness you’re trapped in that your knees almost give out at the littlest
distance between you. But then your friends start counting down, alarming you of the task you’re
to accomplish.

At the count of three, you drink your wine in one go and before you can even break off from each
other, Mei in a Cheshire grin, raises, “Didn’t both of you pledge the thirty-years-old deal? So when
will your wedding be?”

That question has you accidentally spitting your wine all over Namjoon’s vest, earning gasps which
turn to laughs from the others.

Oh, that just doubles the awkward tension between you two, but he stays calm while you step
away.

“I-Im so sorry,” you stammer, trying your hardest to wipe him dry but Namjoon just grabs your
wrist.

“It’s alright.” He forces a smile before returning to his seat and so you go back beside April too,
pouring more wine to drink in hopes that it’d wash away the embarrassment.

How the hell does Mei still remember that deal when that thought hadn’t crossed your mind for
years?

“Really!” Mei exclaims, “We thought you’d end up together.”

Namjoon replies with composure, “We’re not yet thirty, Mei.”

“Well, a couple of years more and we’ll all be thirty. And here you both are, still single as fuck,”
April explains, rolling her eyes. “What d’you guys expect us to think? You’re obviously waiting
for each other to turn thirty.”

Julie rakes, “Can you just please date?”

You sink on your seat, reproaching your inner child who mistakenly shared the information about
that deal to Mei back in the days.

You were attending your teacher’s wedding, the fourteen-year-old Namjoon and you
paired up to walk in the entourage. You were obviously grumpy which was why your
best friend had to ask, “Okay, spill. What’s the problem, sleepyhead?”

“There’s nothing more fun than being the only single bridesmaid at this wedding,” you
grumbled lowly, “Teacher had no boyfriend since birth and now she’s getting married
past thirty. They say that curse would be passed on to her bridesmaid and I’m sure
that’ll be me. I suck.”

He found it funny how you believed in such curse and even worry about such trivial
things when you’re all still too young for it anyway. “If we’re thirty and no one still
asks you out . . . I’ll be around.” He beamed, comforting you.

Your eyes glimmered in relief. “Really?! I won’t grow old alone?”

“Of course, silly.” Rolling his eyes, he muttered, “Just say the word and I’ll propose.
What are best friends for if not for growing old together and fighting each other with
canes as swords?”

You returned with a smile. “Just wait until after the ceremony and I’m gonna make
sure you sign the thirty-years-old deal contract!”

And wow, you just had to brag and tell Mei that your hair wouldn’t turn white alone.

“We were kids, it wasn’t serious,” you claim through gritted teeth while the others just raise their
brows, making you turn to Namjoon for back up. “Right?” you ask.

Your supposedly best friend nods and says, “Yeah. And I’m seeing someone.”

That news has everyone’s jaws falling wide open, except yours—your lips are tightly pursed. You
just finish your drink in silence while the others weep and mourn for their failed ship as if their
hearts are breaking for your sake. They look ridiculous.

Namjoon just chuckles, shaking his head at your friends’ reaction. “And besides, Doc and I . . .” he
trails off as you exchange glances, your heart racing in anticipation of what he’s gonna say. “We’re
just friends.”

Three words. Like a blazing arrow piercing right through your heart, it burns. It’s such a kick in the
balls how an ex-boyfriend-slash-best-friend publicly friendzones you like this.

***

After middle school, most of them moved to different cities, leaving few of you staying together
through high school, and eventually, most migrated to other places thereafter. So a few hours later,
they bid you a goodbye as they head to their hotels, you and Namjoon the ones remaining after
sending them off.

Unlike your ancestral house that your mom decided to sell when you moved to Seoul, Namjoon’s
family remained here, so you walk with him until you reach the end of the patio.

“Shit!” he gasps, chin protruding, “Where’s my bike?!”

You laugh inappropriately.

He always loved riding the bicycle despite the distance. But now that his bike seems to be stolen,
offering to drop him off his house before you drive back to Seoul is the only thing you can do.

Driving around the neighborhood still feels surreal but the unspoken tension between you hinders
you from discussing the many changes that occurred in your hometown.

A few minutes later and you arrive. Pulling down your window, you study their house and realize
that it still looks the same.

Namjoon removes his seatbelt, courteously thanking you for the ride home but before he can get
off, their front door opens; his parents enthusiastically heading to where you are that you fail to
hear Namjoon’s subtle ‘shit’.

Out of courtesy, you step out of the car to greet them and chat for a little.

“Omo!” his mom squeals, cupping your face lovingly. “I can’t believe you’re here in Ilsan too.
Why didn’t you tell us earlier, my dear?”

You giggle softly. “I had unpredictable schedules. I didn’t want Pops and Nana to have their hopes
up.”

Namjoon’s parents have always been warm, and maybe you’re at fault for letting them know that
you’re driving back to Seoul tonight.

“No,” his dad strictly says, “You’re still our little girl. Driving to Seoul alone at this hour isn’t safe.
Stay for the night.”

Uh-oh. Namjoon and you exchange panicked glances.

“Dad, she can’t stay,” Namjoon reasons out, helping you flee. “She’s a doctor. She might have
work tomorrow.”

But his dad only scowls at him. “Namjoon, she’s a doctor which is why she should stay safe and
take care of herself. Tell your hospital that your parents didn’t allow you.”

His mom softly persuading you, “Stay for the night, dear.”

And that’s when you know you’re screwed. Just like how Namjoon couldn’t turn down any
request from your mom, you, too, can’t say ‘No’ to his parents.

The sound of your car locking makes the elderly smile before they lead you inside the house. The
instant you enter, your eyes widen and a shriek is heard—Kyungmin, Namjoon’s sister, calling
your name as she runs towards you.

“Unnie, I missed you so so so much!” She clings on you like a koala right away and you hug her
tighter.
“Kyungkyung!” the nickname you came up for her escaping your lips as if time stood still and you
picked up where you left off.

Their parents watch you, the scene making them shake their heads at how adorable you two are.
It’s as if you’ve met your long lost sister that even Namjoon can’t help but smile.

It’s a given. You’re his best friend; once upon a time, his family was your family too.

Soon, they drag you to eat with them and more conversation rises through the meal. Everything is
perfect; it’s exactly just like the old times and you’re at awe at how it still feels like home.

They treat you like one of their own as always and in no time, you blend in, helping out with the
chores like how it used to be.

While washing the dishes, you can see your phone lighting up, a bunch of messages popping and
you see Jimin has the guts to flood you.

Where are you?

I think I lost my keys.

Sorry to bother you

but when are you coming back, kit?

But your hands are wet and honestly, you’re just too tired of him to even unlock it so you just let it
be.

“Unnie,” Kyungmin calls out, “Can you help me bring these there?”

Without hesitation, you go to where she is, forgetting your phone above the kitchen counter.

***

After finishing all the chores, the whole family settles on the living room for a small catching up
chat—seemingly, having Namjoon and Kyungmin visit at the same time is a rare event that their
parents want to cherish every bit of it.

“Kyungkyung,” you chirp, hugging your not-so-little-sister, “—we get to sleep together in your
room again.”

“Uhm, about that unnie.” Her lips form an apologetic grin. “I forgot to tell you that I’ve moved out
of the house during college too. I’m living with my fiancé. And I can’t sleep here tonight because
we have an early flight tomorrow.

The smile on your lips fade, but you consider. “Okay, then I’ll just sleep in your room sad and
alone.”

“About my room.” Kyungmin lets out a shaky laughter. “Their favoritism jumped out so you can
hate on mom for me. She turned my room into a library, leaving oppa’s room the only available
place for guests like me and you.”
“So you mean—?”

“Yep. You’re sleeping over at oppa’s room,” she informs, zestful.

“What?” you debate in surprise. “W-we can’t sleep in one room.”

Cocking her head sideways, she asks, “Why? We used to sleep together all the time.”

“We were young and uhm, not in any other relationship.”

His dad and mom and Kyungmin look at you with round eyes. “Are you not single right now?”

“Oh, n-no. I am single!” you answer quickly, “Namjoon is—”

But his mom fills in the blanks for you. “—still single too, dear.”

Your so-called best friend remains hushed and that’s how you find out the truth that he isn’t seeing
someone.

Kyungmin rolls her eyes. “Oppa might be smart but I outrun him in settling down. I kept telling
him to find a wife. If he wouldn’t find one, will you please be my sister-in-law instead?”

“He should’ve listened to me when I told him to give you flowers on your sixteenth birthday,” his
dad bitterly reminds.

As if your childhood friends aren’t enough, his family has to add to the whole shipping. Funny how
after all these years, they still want you to end up together.

You just smile politely despite knowing that it’s all far-fetched. It’s too late for you and Namjoon.

***

The family talks about doing more activities tonight but as they go to their room to prepare stuff,
you fall asleep on the couch at how long you wait for their return.

Half an hour later and it’s Namjoon informing you that he sent his parents to sleep. “They’re too
old for things like this and need to rest.”

Still dozing, you nod, eyes heavy that you fail to hear him telling you to go sleep in his room. Your
head is falling back to the sofa when he suddenly . . .

“Namj—!” you squeak when the man in front of you lifts you off the furniture, carrying you bridal
style without warning.

Clinging onto his neck, your sleepiness evaporates when you stare into his eyes; more so when he
throws you to his bed the moment he enters his room.

Nostalgia rushes through you as you recall those nights he’d do the same, carelessly tossing you
before hovering above you, his lips sinking onto yours as he undressed you.

But the only thing you could do right now is avert your eyes, murmuring, “I have feet.”

“Well, you didn’t seem to be using it a while ago.” Namjoon shrugs and out of the blue, the strap
of your dress slides off your shoulder.

Gulping down, Namjoon immediately looks away, clearing his throat. “I’m gonna go shower,” he
mutters, turning to the bathroom but before he leaves, he walks towards his closet to get some
freshly washed clothes. “Uhm, you can borrow these for tonight. I know you hate sleeping in
dresses.”

A pair of his blue cotton sleepwear lands on your palms before he dashes away. You change into it
immediately and chuckle at how tiny you are in his clothes, nevertheless, it feels so comfy and
warm.

As you lay back in the bed, thoughts of how Namjoon dresses you up with his clothes run in your
mind. It’s how he always mentioned that never truly admired you in fancy clothes, perfect hair, full
makeup, high heels; rather, he preferred you in simple baggy clothes, messy hair, bare face
grinning big with a smile.

Who are you kidding? With that lingering in your head and your body in his clothes, you can’t stay
still. Plus, knowing that you’re in his childhood bedroom makes you so stoked. Getting up, you
hurriedly roam your eyes, scanning his old room filled with memories.

Above a small bookshelf stands a photo of the both of you, grinning big that you can see your teeth
still growing.

You chuckle, shifting your attention somewhere else. Not long after, you find a familiar notebook
covered with flower stickers that Namjoon collected for you as payment because you used to jot
down notes while he silently read a different legendary book in class and he’d borrow your notes
afterwards.

In the end, he’d return it neatly but you’d see scribbles of notes and ideas from his fictional book in
the back part of it. You’d read his debates and you’d laugh at how philosophical he’d get.

In no time, that notebook became your scribble notebook and you ended up writing bucket lists, to-
do list, random recipes you wanted to try, places you wanna go visit, books you wanna read,
quotes that stroke your interests, flower you wanted to study and whenever he borrowed, he added
his own collection of thoughts as well.

It was filled with childish stuff from both you and him that just the thought of it makes you smile.
Your hand reaches for it but before you can flip it open, Namjoon chides, “I rarely visit. I didn’t
know I still had that here.”

“I see,” you breathe, putting down the notebook before facing him. “I just forgot that thing ever
existed.”

A little smile creeps up on your lips and he eyes you from head to toe, smiling back. “Yeah, you’ve
forgotten a lot of things.”

And for a second you don’t know what he means with that but instead of arguing, you just stride to
help him with the mattress he holds.

“Take the bed,” Namjoon says and you look at him to debate.

“This is your room. I’ll sleep here on the mat.”

In a trice, you’re arguing about who sleeps where. He’s forcing you to get on the bed but before he
could toss you to it, you make sure to stubbornly dive on the floor mattress; your hands and feet
extended like a starfish as you mark your territory.

Namjoon lets out this manly yet soft chuckle with how silly you look like, but he doesn’t waver;
instead, he drops beside you—twice more stubborn than how you did, earning a scoff of disbelief
from you.

“I guess we’re sleeping on the floor together then,” he articulates proudly, rendering you
speechless “Well, I guess this is really what for old times’ sake means.”

Feeling as if you’re trapped with his big frame beside you, you have no choice but to move aside or
else his skin will be pressed against yours, you shrink, your body turning to lie on your side and he
smiles, a tinge of softness in his eyes as he looks into yours.

Idly facing each other like this, you’re suddenly pulled into a trance; the depth of his gaze has you
drowning with these thoughts that have always been haunting you.

Would you have been happy if the both of you just ended up together? If you both weren’t naive
and just actually dated when you’re both still high school students? If Namjoon had just listened to
his dad’s advice and courted you, would everything have fallen into place?

If you did date, would you still be together until now? Would you really be living a happy life with
him just like the shared vows of Pops and Nana earlier?

Maybe, you half-smiled at that thought.

But then again, you were both still kids and you might’ve broken up years after due to immaturity.
And besides . . . if you both dated earlier, you wouldn’t have been in a two-year poly relationship
with Bangtan, and that has you reflecting.

Come to think of it, the both of you really did have big sacrifices for that relationship. Well, to be
fair, everybody had. However, choosing to be secretly with all seven of them, you forgone the
whole officializing things with Namjoon and making both your families happy which seemed like
one of the biggest decisions you both mutually made.

Perhaps you two did have the right love; sadly, it was at the wrong time and in difficult
circumstances.

Yes, you could’ve opted for the happily ever after life with your best friend . . . but then again, to
the both of you, happily ever after meant being with the six others.

It used to be all or nothing back then. And too bad you ended up with nothing.

With the breakup, it had you losing not only the romantic relationship with the seven of them, but
also the precious friendship you’ve built with Namjoon over the years; from ever since you were
on diapers, to those toddler days spent at the neighborhood playground, to the teenage years you
bickered and fought and made up, and through the whole chaotic journey of living together with
the other rascals before college graduation and your medicine school.

All of those memories . . . that deep connection and friendship . . . all of it obliterated in a blink of
an eye. And when you lost Kim Namjoon, it feels like you lost a part of your childhood as well.

You sigh, the heavy idea taking over your emotions and now it makes you want to break the ice
but before you could think of a decent topic, your tongue runs thoughtlessly. “So the whole seeing
someone was a lie?”

Immediately, you bite your lips in surprise at your own question. Jittery, you clarify, “Not that it
matters though. I—”
“Exactly,” Namjoon concludes as a-matter-of-a-factly. “It doesn’t. In fact, I think it doesn’t have
any bearing if I’m really with someone.”

“Well,” you hum, trying to think of the best answers to give but he seems to have a lot to say all of
a sudden.

“I don’t think it matters if I’m still single or not because I’m sure you don’t want anything to do
with me anymore. So the whole idea is really just irrelevant. No harm done there, right?”

If you’d analyze his word usage, perhaps you should be a little intimidated but no; with his tone,
the way he softly speaks to you and that genuine smile he gives off just makes you turn a blind eye
to whatever it was he said. It’s as if he’s sincerely telling you his point of view and you suddenly
can’t go against what he feels.

“Right,” you confirm.

Namjoon chuckles lightly, nodding his head as if pleased. “Besides, they would’ve teased us until
the sun rises if I didn’t come up with that. Who knows what dares they would’ve thrown at us?”

You’re left staring at him, intently assessing every word he says and frankly, you can’t detect any
bitterness or whatsoever from this man. He really means what he says and even flashes an innocent
smile at you.

Namjoon still has the kindest approach. He looks so at ease—no trace of any resentment towards
you at all. It’s as if he’s accepted everything and had serenely let go.

He seems to be doing really well and with that, you wonder how reposed he is right now, compared
to you who still feels conflicted and troubled and miserable.

Wow, he has his peace now, but what about you?

But maybe it’s your twisted karma.

Failing to hold your curiosity, you voice out, “Namjoon, are you mad at me?” And then you
nervously ramble, “I mean . . . uhm, were you mad at me?”

“Huh? For what?”

Averting your gaze to the ceiling, you breathe, “Nothing.”

{BGM: you were good to me—Jeremy Zucker, Chelsea Cutler}

It takes a few seconds before Namjoon replies, “Oh, are you talking about the breakup?”

Not wanting to look too eager, you just shrug silently.

“Am I mad if you cut me off just like that?” he queries as if he’s asking himself too. He pauses for
a few moments before answering, “No. Maybe just hurt. Like past tense hurt. But never mad,
sleepyhead.”

Oh, how you missed that word.

“Why?” You have to ask because you don’t feel like you deserve his kindness.

“Just because,” he says dismissively.

“Namjoon,” you quickly appeal but he’s quicker in giving out his reason.

“I trust you.”

Those three words.

“I trust you and your decisions. And hey, it actually turned out great. You were right, it really was
for the best.”

Before the silence can kill you, Namjoon reaches for a book on his bedside table, humming happily
as he starts reading.

Staring at him, it’s as if nothing changed; as if he’s still the same Namjoon you had been with back
then. And it’s driving you crazy that you find it hard to handle being with him like this.

“Don’t you have any questions or things you want to debate over?” you straightforwardly raise but
he only keeps his eyes glued to his book.

“That’s out of the blue.”

“It’s just . . . maybe this is the last chance we’d have to talk about anything, you know.”

His brows furrow as if contemplating and then he turns to you. “Let’s see. It’s been years . . . I
think the only question I have is, how’s the life of being a doctor? Is it fun? More fulfilling than
being a gardener which the six-year-old you dreamed of?”

That certainly has you laughing and in no time, you’re telling him stuff you’ve been through, from
how you graduated, to the awful clerkship you had and to the everyday experience as a doctor.

In return, Namjoon talks about his music career which you had expected he’d pursue.

The catching up goes on as the night deepens, laughter shared as topics drifting from one thing to
another. But despite these little stories you exchange, a certain thought continues to bother
you: Maybe you really did let the friendship die when you became his girlfriend?

To be honest, it must’ve been you who started keeping things from Namjoon.

“That’s all you wanna ask?”

For the first time in forever, you wanted to talk about the breakup so badly. Maybe it’s a way of
making it up to him as a best friend who stopped telling him everything or maybe it’s your way of
freeing yourself from guilt. Either way, you want to give him a chance to ask but . . .

“Yep,” Namjoon reassures, no interest in other stuff that it puzzles you.

“Oh. Nothing about the—?”

“Nothing.” He smiles. “I know you.”

His words hitting something inside you.

“You’re hell-bent on the whole breaking up and once you’ve decided, nothing can change your
mind. That’s how stubborn you are.”

Impulsive, your best friend speaks the blatant truth about you, not minding to become your
harshest critic as he presents the real picture of what you are.
Face wincing in debate, you grumble, “Ya—!”

With that, Namjoon chuckles, suddenly pinching your cheeks apart lightheartedly. “No, but really.
I’m sure you had valid reasons for ending the relationship,” he placates, every word he lays filled
with sincerity. “Besides, didn’t we promise to support each other no matter what?”

Some feelings just never die out. His unexpected question has your heart aching, tears starting to
form behind your eyes.

There it is again, Namjoon smiling softly, his eyes turning into moon crescents as he furthers, “I’ve
given you my word. So yeah, I don’t have any questions or debates about that. I always was and
always will be on your side. Isn’t that what best friends are for?”

You’re left there staring at his genuine smile, your favorite dimple of his flashing and you can
perceive how happy he is—that it somehow hurts.

It hurts how okay he is about this. It hurts that he gave his hundred percent trust to the point that he
never asked you why or made efforts to reach out for you after that breakup.

“We’re still best friends, right?” he inquires.

Apparently, this best friend of yours decided to just . . . let you go just like that. Without putting up
a goddamn fight.

How did he settle with that when he had far more than just a two-year-relationship with you on the
line? When compared to the other six, Namjoon had the biggest loss—given that you’ve known
each other the longest?

Miserably, those ideas have you concluding: Was your friendship that disposable for him?

But then again, you’re the one who wanted out. You’re the one who left.

And now you’re sure you sound so stupid for being disappointed when you didn’t want them
chasing after you in the first place. You didn’t want them to pursue you again. But why does it hurt
you to hear that they’re okay with letting you go? Why are you feeling sad when it’s your decision
to begin with?

Just how fucked up are you exactly?

Pulling away from him, your eyes drift elsewhere as you sigh deeply.

“And really,” trailing off, Namjoon carries on frivolously, “—as a friend, if ever you’re seeing
someone new now, I just hope you know that he has my utmost blessing and all I want for you is to
be in a decent relationship filled with happiness and—”

“You know what,” you cut him off sternly, hating how alright he is with you finding someone else.
“Joon . . . no, we’re not best friends anymore. I think we lost everything the moment we broke up.”

Everyone knows that you can’t be just friends with someone you’ve fallen deeply in love with.

With the massive history you have, all fragments of how you pulled yourself together to cope up
with losing them hover in your mind. Suddenly, it feels like dealing with the fact that you lost
Namjoon all over again.

The fact that he who understands you better than anyone and listens to you patiently was gone,
you’ve always known that the void he left can never be filled.

Obviously, you were damaged more than expected. It’s understandable. The heartbreak of losing a
best friend cuts way deeper than losing a lover. It’s like fighting a battle that you never predicted,
taking time to get used to not having his presence in your daily life.

It’s for the reason that he’s become an inseparable part of your life—the man you confided your
deepest and darkest secrets with. He saw you at your worst and when things didn’t go the way you
wanted in life. He saw you throwing fits and tantrums, getting exasperated every minute and
still loved you for the person you are.

No, nobody can replace Namjoon in your life. It’s just impossible. It’ll take years to build that
comfort level and rapport you had with him.

But regrettably, he’s here as if telling you that he’s fine without you. Kudos.

Sometimes, humans recognize people’s importance in their lives once they’re no longer a part of it.
And having this conversation with him is a living proof of it.

It makes you realize how your life has turned upside down without him in it while he’s right in
front of you, smiling and having the time of his life.

“Oh, I see,” Namjoon recoils weakly, feigning a small smile as he nods respectfully. “Goodnight
then.” And turning his back on you as he faces the wall, he lets you be; the awkward tension
quickly building up.

The sad awareness of his irreplaceable loss has you folding in half, your body turning to face the
wall in hopes that he won’t see you cry.

You’re like two half-moons temporarily stuck together for one night and it’s obvious how much
you’ve grown apart, but you’re to be blamed after all.

It awfully stings; nevertheless, it’s the closure you needed the most.

Without a doubt, losing a boyfriend was hard but losing a best friend is infinitely worse.

SATURDAY

The sunlight making you squint, you wake up—in his bed, having no idea how you got there.
Before you can think of anything, the door opens and you see Namjoon’s mom holding a tray of
breakfast for you.

“Good morning, sweetheart! I made your favorite,” she sweetly greets, “Oh, I hope this is still your
favorite though. It’s been a long time since you slept here.”

Instantly, you straighten up, embarrassed at how much she spoils you. She always served you
breakfast in bed when you were young, but you’re all grown up now. It should be you helping her
out in the kitchen.

“Auntie, you shouldn’t have—”

“Oh no, my child. I missed cooking for you. Eating this heartily is the least you could do for me.”

She notices that something seems to bother you so she informs you, “Oh, if you’re looking for our
Namjoonie, he already left. That guy rarely stays for longer than a day.”
.

“Hyung, when are you visiting Seoul?” Jimin, talking on the phone, asks, making Namjoon who’s
on the other line, lift his eyebrows in amusement.

“Wow, I’m actually in Seoul right now.”

Jimin’s tiny eyes almost bulge in wonder. “Really?!”

“Yeah.”

“Cool, wanna meet up?”

A few hours later . . .

“So, are you free that day?” Jimin peers at Namjoon, waiting for his reply.

The other softly chuckles, clarifying, “You mean to say . . . you’re holding a party?”

Chewing up his food, Jimin innocently nods.

“And all seven of us are invited?” Namjoon repeats, and again, Jimin nods nonchalantly; the leader
recalling the last few bitter times that the group was together—the certain beginning of how the
band broke up flashing in the his mind.

The day of the breakup . . . after you said ‘LEMONS’

The second you left the house, it’s the maknaes who were most rattled. “We should
follow her!” Jungkook raised, flustered and tensed.

Taehyung nodded anxiously, adding, “I’ll get the car keys.” He’s about to stride for
the key when he heard Seokjin’s suggestion.

“Or maybe we should give her space? Maybe we should let her be?”

Everyone looked at the eldest, obviously caught off guard with his foolish suggestion.

“Hyung,” Namjoon replied warily, “Why have you been all quiet when she was here?
That’s so unlike you.”

Now they’re exchanging suspicious glances while Jimin strongly stated, “You
should’ve convinced her to stay.”

The room fell in silence and it took a few seconds before Seokjin replied, “I’ve been
doing that the whole week already.”

Finding out that you and Seokjin already had a pre-conflict, the maknae line got angry.

“So you knew she’s turning pessimistic about the setup!?” Jimin was mad, his tone
accusing but Seokjin wasn’t to back down.

Stepping up, he defended, “It was our argument and—”

“There’s no ‘your’ argument, hyung!” Taehyung butted in, appalled, “Your argument
is our argument too!”

“Oh, fuck off!” Seokjin spat, earning surprised looks from the others, “What do
spoiled brats like you know? You couldn’t understand the fact that we’re arguing
about something substantial.”

“People in relationships argue!” Jungkook joined the clash. “It’s all fucking
commitment issues, hyung. But we should’ve—!”

“It’s a real commitment issue, okay?!” the eldest snarled, hating the idea that the
maknaes were ganging up on him without even thinking properly. “It’s not something
you guys can understand!”

There was a deadly silence before Taehyung spoke again, “Hyung . . . how dumb do
you take us for?”

The somber expression on the saxophonist’s face hinted how insulted Seokjin made
them feel that the eldest just dropped his eyes to the ground. He couldn’t answer.

“Hyung, what makes you better than us when I’m sure I love her just the same?”
Jungkook questioned, shooting daggers, “—or better yet, I love her even more than
you do!”

It was Jimin backing up the maknae with another angry statement, “I’m sure you love
her too. But if you really love her, you won’t just let her go, you jerk!”

Having enough of their stupid argument, Seokjin barked back, fists turning white,
“She wanted bail! If we really love her, we’ll let her go!”

Now, Jimin was about to throw a punch, if not for Namjoon stopping the violinist’s
wrist. The leader only shook his head calmly while Jimin just brushed him off and
turned to Seokjin with a cuss, “I always knew you’re a fucking coward but never to
this extent.”

It’s Yoongi’s icy words which halted everyone. “Why are you even arguing about
someone who doesn’t even love us to the point where she left just like that?” His face
was void of any emotions, contrasting the pain that his question embodied.

The pianist’s negativity was dragging them down individually too; but the maknae line
declined to just stand there and lose you like that.

When the argument died down, Yoongi was the only one who went back to his room,
the maknaes storming out of the place to chase after you; Seokjin, Namjoon and
Hoseok left in the living room.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Seokjin raked his fingers through his hair helplessly,
explaining, “She won’t listen to them . . . or to any of us. She’s already made up her
mind weeks ago. They’ll only get hurt.”

When he didn’t get any replies, he added lifelessly, “Let’s just let her be. Maybe it’s us
 loving her too much that drove her to this.”

Finally, Hoseok broke his silence. With his eyes still staring blankly in space, he spoke
softly, exhausted with all the harsh tones, “Hyung, I get your point . . . but it wasn’t
only your relationship to begin with.”

Namjoon nodded in agreement, his hand patting Seokjin’s shoulder as he said, “The
maknaes have every right to punch you for what you said and did, and so do we.”

The eldest just stayed rooted to the spot while the 94s got on their feet, heading to
leave as well.

“Aren’t you gonna hit me?” Seokjin asked, the two others stopping by the door.

Namjoon answered lowly, “Sometimes not getting hit hurts a thousand more.”

As if the same thoughts enter their mind, Namjoon forces a grin. “I’m not sure if that’s a great
idea.”

Jimin pouts, trying to convince him, “Come on, hyung! That’s a long time ago!”

That pout has the leader smiling bigger. “Lemme check my schedule,” he bargains, “If I’m free, I’ll
try.”

You haven’t been replying to any of Jimin’s messages since that day. Although he never really
apologized, there also hasn’t been a day that he didn’t send you a message or even ringed your
phone from time to time.

There it is, him calling you again.

Not in the mood, you pick up and as expected, it leads to a heated argument of disrespectful
cussing between you two.

A few hours later and your phone lights up again, you stare at his new messages.

look, if you’re upset with me

im sorry.

can we please talk at home tomorrow?

if u want?

i just need to explain myself

Letting out a sigh, you ignore his messages. Deep down, you know there’s nothing to talk about,
nor do you want to hear him explain a thing.

SUNDAY

You will move out. It’s the rightest thing to do and so you decide to drop by Jimin’s to take every
other stuff of yours left there.

***

There’s loud music coming from inside the apartment and you sigh lifelessly, guessing that Jimin
might’ve forgotten that he suggested a talk at home.

Yes. Rooming in with an ex-boyfriend is definitely the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever agreed
with but looking back, you’ve always wanted to prove something to yourself—that you’ve moved
on and that there were no lingering feelings left.

You wanted to play along with his games, to show him how much you’ve gotten over him just the
same as how he got over you.

But with his repetitive habits, you easily got used to it; his cold shoulder. His mood swings. His
unpredictable approach. The emotional stress. The tension. You never knew that living with him
for more than a month would feel like this.

Every action gets your defense stronger and you stubbornly tell yourself that everything’s just fine.
With your ego not wanting to back down, you deny that you’re hurting because if you do admit to
it, it’ll mean that you’re still very much in love with him—which you clearly shouldn’t be.

So instead of telling Jimin the truth, you opt to let him walk all over you. You take every excuse he
gives. You swallow every hurtful word he says. You let him dominate you. You let him play with
you, your body, your feelings. You let him fool around with other women and get away with it as if
you’re just as heartless as him.

‘It’s all just for the sex,’ is what you want to display but somehow, Jimin always managed to drive
you up the wall, having you breaking down in tears.

Every day, you came to realize that Jimin is now a different person, and maybe you’ve been so in
denial for the past few weeks.

From wanting to prove you’ve moved on, to silently waiting—hoping that the old Jimin you knew
is still there inside him somehow; foolishly waiting for him on your birthday was one heck of a
proof.

Despite everything he did—on purpose or not, you kept choosing to stay close to him because deep
down, you missed him and you’re wishing that your presence would change him back to the sweet
and understanding man you fell for.

But every day just gets messier and more fucked up. You’ve lifelessly had it. All you want now is
peace of mind which Namjoon possessed, so you let your feet drag you back to his door to tell him
that you can’t keep this facade any longer.

You’re now ready to yield, to drop all your weapons and wave your flag as you accept defeat that
you’ve been hurting because all these years, you never really moved on and you envy him.

There’s no other way but to tell him that you’re moving out because you can’t stay close to him
any longer. Because it fucking hurts to see how much he has changed. It rips you apart that he
doesn’t care about you anymore.

And so you toss the pride away, considering his offer to talk. You’re only gonna play the fool this
one last time because you’ve decided to never meet up with him again after this.

Tonight, you want to let him know but as you slowly open the door . . .

{BGM: Evidence—Urbandub}

A woman in red lingerie just slut dropped in front of Kim Seokjin whom you
definitely didn’t expect to see inside.

In shock, your eyes scan the slightly dimmed place and you see many familiar faces: Kim
Taehyung is on the couch straddled by another woman who’s licking him in the neck. Beside him
sits Jung Hoseok whose ear is being nibbled by another lady who so much looks like a slut.

Yoongi and Jungkook are sitting on the other sofa while a certain bitch enjoys the time of her life,
giving them an erotic lap dance which appears like she’s dry humping their thighs as she moans.

It takes time for your mind to process the scene taking place in front of you.

But your eyes shift back to the Seokjin who’s standing in the center of the living room; the woman
who’s dancing for him earlier is now on her knees and is about to open his zipper.

It feels like being stabbed repeatedly and your heart just fucking sinks with utmost melancholy.

You shouldn’t see this. You know you should go but why can’t you move your feet? It feels like
you’re trapped in a quicksand that you can’t escape no matter how much you try to.

Before she can even zip it down, she suddenly cocks her head, noticing you by the doorway.

Then and there, you accidentally meet Jimin’s gaze from across the room but he doesn’t seem
rattled by your presence one bit. He only smirks, letting a girl suck on his lips while you stare at
him with eyes quickly glazed with tears.

They say ‘time has a way of healing’ but why are you left standing here, biting on your lips so hard
and hoping it’ll help you keep your tears from falling?

Oh, you swear it feels like a living hell and your every vein burns in pain and betrayal and hurt.
Your lungs constrict, breathing suddenly turning into such a difficult task as your lips quiver.

“P-peaches?” Hoseok stutters, moving away from the woman near him and getting on his feet in
surprise; the others—except Jimin—look to your direction, obviously taken aback.

“S-sorry,” you choke, words barely a whisper and a shout. “Wrong door.”

And without second thoughts, you muster every courage you have to shut the door and leave.

A/N: Hi! How was the surprise?

To calm everyone still in shock, here’s a groom’s man Namjoon:

Just imagining that gif Namjoon above, how can anyone be over him? Especially seeing him down
the wedding aisle? :D I’m sure fluff gives out more angst than we expect, right? I hope the
imaginary wedding was clear tho? I just wanted you to imagine that it's you and Namjoon
exchanging the vows that Pops and Nana were saying.

I’m honestly unsure how you’d all react to this to the point that i don’t wanna know if i made it to
the buildup expectation of meeting Namjoon once again. I’m scared that I failed at it but I think
this is really how a best friend would be (?) He probably won’t be stupidly hurting you with
immaturity but the opposite. Still, I think Jimin wins at being the asshole ex while Namjoon is just
so pure it hurts. I don’t know if there’s such an angst that could describe this.

Plus, I know you love the INTERLOGUES, but are you sure you wanna know Namjoon’s side? If
yes, then go scroll down, yey!

[INTERLOGUE]

Truth be told, Namjoon really did think of you as he wrote those vows. You were his inspiration.

“Everyone has a best friend, a true love, a lifetime partner. And I think I’m the luckiest because all
those three are the same person in my life—you.”

He even remembered that precise moment he uttered those words to you. You were tucked in bed
together, his arms wrapped around you as he consoled you about the unhappy chapter you just
read.

If only Namjoon knew that it was the last time he’d hold you like that, he never would’ve let go.

While writing, his mind knew he couldn’t have you anymore but it didn’t matter if you’re gone, the
thoughts of you and him together still made him happy. It’s always been his dream to marry you, a
little imagination wouldn’t hurt, right? Especially if it’s for your beloved Pops and Nana anyway.
After the wedding, he had to sit with your childhood friends, listening to their endless shipping and
pining for the both of you.

“He was too scared not to lose her that he just settled for platonic friendship,” Mei brazenly shared
as if the two of you aren’t sitting with them and Julie backed her up.

“And hey, most people hate losing. I don’t see any problem with that.”

Namjoon could only remain silent, just laughing along and drinking his wine. What else could he
do when these friends of yours were right?

Nobody fancied losing. He resisted making moves on you for years because of that reason. Your
friendship was supposed to be forever, that was once for sure. But somewhere along the way, you
must’ve become so unhappy with the poly relationship with him and had no balls to tell him.

***

It was a wrong move to let his parents see you, but it’s too late now; you’re bound to stay the night
with their tenacity. Aside from you chatting with his mom and dad and helping out Kyungmin with
the dishes, there was nothing special until . . .

You went with Kyungmin, leaving your phone above the kitchen counter. It wasn’t his business,
but Namjoon accidentally saw the text messages popping on your screen. Jimin.

Mustering all his might, he struggled not to overthink. You’ve broken up years ago and he
shouldn’t be sticking his nose to your affairs, so he turned a blind eye on what he saw, acting
natural all throughout.

It’s when you fell asleep on the couch that he decided to carry you to his room, the strap of your
dressing slipping on your shoulder that urged him to offer his clothes. You weren’t his property
anymore to fantasize about; the last thing he wanted was taking advantage of the situation.

Immediately, he left after handing you fresh pajamas but when he returned from his bath, you were
looking around his room instead of sleeping.

Putting down the notebook, you faced him. “I just forgot that thing ever existed.”

A little smile crept up on your lips and he glanced at you from head to toe, smiling back. “Yeah,
you’ve forgotten a lot of things.”

Like the way he loved seeing you like this, how he’d love to cuddle when you’re looking so
comfortable and fluffy like that; you in such simple clothing were always Namjoon’s weakness.

Clearly, you’ve also forgotten how you promised that you’d fill that notebook with more stories,
how you planned to be there for him for always, how you’re supposed to be spending forever with
each.

But he didn’t want you to see through him, so he shifted to topic, persuading you to take his bed
but you were obstinate as always, leading to arguments on who would sleep on this and that. In a
blink of an eye, you were lying beside each other on the floor mat—both your pride not backing
down.

It was that specific minute that he thought of Jimin when he caught a quick glimpse of your
neck. That explains the hickeys on your skin, he supposed. Of course, Namjoon wasn’t blind; your
concealer couldn’t conceal much as hours passed by.
He, too, wasn’t stupid. Namjoon knew how much Jimin loved you and how much you loved the
violinist too. You’ve admitted the whole story to everyone that on one occasion, you considered
asking for your best friend’s blessing to date one of his bandmates—who has been your Tinder
fling months before you even moved in with them.

If not for a few misunderstandings, Jimin and you would’ve dated normally and happily. The love
shared between you was pure and real and Namjoon always knew that inside. Well, he knew about
the genuine feelings the others had for you too—everyone was pretty much transparent about it.

Recalling those rare occasions where they’d drink without you, they’d pour out all their frustration
with the disadvantages of sharing you just so they could let it go in a healthy manner; a few more
drinks and they’d debate over who loves you the most. But in the end, they’d all laugh at how
they’d equally root for each other.

Even in the face of drunkenness, there was never any bitter rivalry. That was how much they loved
you and loved each other. No matter what happens, they’re each other’s wingmen—which was
why that poly relationship lasted for two wonderful years.

Namjoon was sure that they weren’t the problem; perhaps, it’s your sentiments that weren’t stable.
It was implausible anyway—loving seven men equally. One way or the other, you’d love someone
the most whether you admitted it or not.

{BGM: Team—Noah Cyrus}

And so that’s why finding out that Jimin and you have been seeing each other wasn’t so much of a
surprise to him. If you decided to live happily with the understanding Jimin—or even with any of
the others, he’d never hold grudges.

Why?

Because before Namjoon came to be your lover, he was your best friend first. He understands more
than you think he can.

It might seem that he’s losing you to some other man, but he would never look at it that way. For
you to have a normal relationship with someone who’d cherish you the same way Namjoon does
would always be a victory. A victory he’d never get tired of celebrating for.

Despite the shitty break up, he promised you that he’d support you and that’s what he’s determined
to do—to stay true to his word.

At all times. He’ll always be on his sleepyhead’s team even if you ended up not picking him. Your
happiness is his happiness. That. Is. Exactly. How. Much. Namjoon. Loves. You.

And the longer he stared at you, the more certain he became— he’ll never stop loving you.

Failing to hold your curiosity, you voiced out, “Namjoon, are you mad at me?” And then you
nervously rambled, “I mean . . . uhm, were you mad at me?”

Your question took him aback, but he managed to brush it off casually. “Huh? For what?”

Averting your gaze to the ceiling, you breathed, “Nothing.”

What benefit could you both gain in talking about something that had passed by long ago? he
doubted, aware that no matter how much you conversed about it, it couldn’t change what happened
in the past.
It took a few seconds before Namjoon replied, “Oh, are you talking about the breakup?”

You just shrugged silently, eyes failing to meet his.

For a moment, he let his emotions resurface.

“Am I mad if you cut me off just like that?” he queried as if asking himself too and then there was
a quick pause, his eyes welling up as he choked back his tears. He just felt so sad.

Mad couldn’t even compare to what he felt. You abandoned him without second thoughts and
without even any explanation. Again, he might be a boyfriend but he was your best friend first and
you’re supposed to tell him things as important as that before deciding but instead, you just . . . cut
him off from your life like that.

What was Namjoon supposed to feel?

By all means, he was angry and hurt, and that’s completely valid! But he figured that dwelling on
your broken friendship would only make him more miserable. The best thing he could do was
forgive you and move on.

And so to answer your question, “No,” he bluffed, “Maybe just hurt. Like past tense hurt. But
never mad, sleepyhead.”

Oh, how he missed calling out to you like that.

“Why?”

“Just because.”

“Namjoon,” you quickly appealed but he’s quicker in giving out his reason.

“I trust you,” he revealed, “I trust you and your decisions. And hey, it actually turned out great.
You were right, it really was for the best.”

There was a long catching up which honestly felt like a gift from heavens above but it was soon
replaced with the hellish argument that ended in you curling up in a ball and turning your back
against him.

Above all else that he felt, Namjoon opted to stay positive, settling in the silence of his book, just
savoring the limited time he had to lay beside you while reading. Just like the old times, he
thought.

***

A few hours later, you seemingly drifted to sleep. When he was finished with his book, he was
about to put it back to the shelf beside you but the sight of his sleeping sleepyhead caught his eyes.

Dumbfounded, Namjoon looked at you, memorizing your face which was still beautiful for him
even after all those years.

His dad was right. Maybe he should’ve just gave you flowers when you were sixteen, maybe it
would’ve been—

It was pathetic; how his arms were unfortunately not around you yet his mind was still tightly
wrapped around you. Shaking his head, he decided to throw away that greed, resisting the urge to
beg and plead for you to become his again. There’s no point obsessing over what you should have
been but failed to be.

“I trust you,” Namjoon softly whispered.

Even with tears in his eyes, he’d would infinitely and repeatedly say this, “I trust you more than
you could ever know. I just want you to be happy and if losing me was what it takes for you to
have a happy and peaceful life, then I guess I could live with it.”

He was fixated with supporting whatever decision you came up with . . . except for the sleeping on
the floor. And so not wanting to wake you up, he carefully transferred you to his bed and tucked
you in nicely, knowing how much of a sucker you were for comfy things.

Now seeing you look more at ease was enough for Namjoon to have a goodnight sleep on the
floor.

***

Leaving early in the morning, he came across his mom who was preparing him breakfast.

“Leaving so soon?” she asked, reaching him a cup of coffee.

Namjoon just smiled. “Mom, you know I have to.”

With a sigh, she surrendered but when he’s about to grab a drink from the refrigerator, a piece of
paper was pinned to it—a phone number displayed. After looking at it for a few seconds, he
quickly glanced over his shoulder. “Mom, what’s this?”

“Oh, that’s doc’s number!” she happily shared. “She gave me—”

“Mom,” he softly reproached, “Don’t bother her too much. She’s a doctor, she’s busy.”

“That’s exactly the opposite of what she told me,” his mom argued, arms folding over her chest.
“She said she’ll never be too busy for me and your dad. And she even wants me to call her
immediately whenever we feel unwell.” With a sharp glare, his mom scolded him, “I don’t even
get why you won’t give her number to us. Stop hogging her all to yourself, you rascal.”

How could Namjoon give what he didn’t have? But it’s better to just pretend rather than tell the
truth that you’ve stopped talking for years which would only make them worried.

Despite everything, he left, ignoring your number because he knew he didn’t need it.
 lidocaine
Chapter Notes

⌦ Warnings: t e n s i o n, swearing, jealousy, drinking, finally a small breakup

flashback revealed 2/3, may trigger too many feels, mentions of smoking, too-many-
guys-is-a-heartache-chapter; a dash of neutralizing angst; push&pull has never been
this stressing;

⌦ A/N: and we finally reach this revelation chapter. for some reason, this has been
so hard to write, obliging me to reread the previous chapters too. i hope it isn’t such a
messy chapter for you guys. happy chooseday! (even tho it’s still a little bit of
monday)

[F.U.C.K.] LIDOCAINE is a local anesthetic medication used to numb tissues, decreasing

discomfort or pain during medical procedures.

Why Lidocaine? Because it’s what you’ll need. Please be numb after this?

FEW MOMENTS BEFORE YOU ARRIVE

Holding a can of beer, Hoseok scanned the room intently as they settled down. “Nice place here,
Jiminie.”

“Thanks, hyung!” The hospitable host smiled.

Meanwhile, Taehyung plopped down the couch. “What’s this party all about?” he raised in a pout.
It’s been what? A few months since he last hanged out with Jimin and now he just called everyone
in like this?

“That . . . my friend, will be revealed—later on,” was what Jimin said, a big grin plastered on his
lips as he turned to the eldest. “Right, Seokjin-hyung?”
Sipping his drink casually, Seokjin just lifted his lips in a half-smile. “Yeah. I’ll tell you about it
later.”

“Now, don’t be a sour puss,” Jimin wooed, jumping on his best friend’s lap and slinging an arm
around him to cheer him up. “A party is for having fun! So just sit back and relax.”

Not far from the living room stood Jungkook, examining and tasting every bit of dish served on
the table. “The food is great,” he mumbled, mouth filled of fries as he turned his doe eyes to Jimin.

Yoongi let out soft laughs at the sight of their maknae. “Of course, everything always tastes great
for you, kid.”

“Excuse you,” Hoseok humorously butted in, pulling Jungkook close to his side and massaging his
shoulders. “This kid is now a doctor, hyung.”

The happy virus had everyone smiling in no time; the fact that Jungkook really pulled off that stunt
of pursuing Medicine was still surprising for most.

“Not yet, hyung. I’m still halfway through my internship,” Jungkook humbly replied.

“By the way, where’s Namjoon?” Seokjin asked and for a second, Jimin buffered before shrugging
his shoulders.

“I guess he’s just too busy for us.”

A quick awkward silence settled and Taehyung scrambled to lay out other things to talk about
instead. Boy, he didn’t want this night to be ruined by trivial things and he succeeded. In no time,
the boys were laughing about some college alumni they all knew, making them reminisce how
they used to saunter conceitedly in the hallways thereafter.

Hours after and suddenly, the doorbell rang, stealing everyone’s attention.

“Oh?” Hoseok’s deer ears perked up. “Maybe that’s Namjoon?”

Jimin just shrugged while Jungkook—who stood the nearest to the door—opened it.

“Surprise!” female voices echoed in a flirty greeting, making their way inside the place with their
big black coats and taking everyone aback.

Somebody even flicked off the lights, the room turning into a slight dimmed area.

From a distance, Seokjin shot dagger at the house owner. “Jimin,” his voice low as if reproaching
but it’s not like he could scold the younger right this moment when girls were already disrobing
themselves in front of everyone.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin feigned innocence, taunting, “We’re all bachelors here, aren’t we?”

Just like the others, Yoongi stayed silent at that question. It’s not like anybody had to know his
situation anyway.

The party continued and most of them went stiff, the bold ladies dancing to a sultry music which
source they didn’t know of.

Unsure. That’s what most of them felt. It’s somewhat uncomfortable but they let it slide because
it’s the first actual gathering they had for years; no one dared to be a party pooper. And besides,
those are just entertainers. They’re probably be gone after some intermission number.
Nevertheless, the main dancer smirked. “Where is he? The most handsome man who owns me?”

They all looked at Taehyung and the saxophonist’s expression turned into confusion, his hands
raising in the air in surrender. “Uhm, I-I may be handsome but I swear, I didn’t call for these
women.”

Jimin chuckled, pointing to Seokjin instead and there went the stripper, pulling the eldest in the
middle of the room; the other women waving their bodies for the rest.

At first, it’s just a form of dance presentation—with occasional slutty body rolls. But Jungkook
gulped down when the woman in front of them started grinding herself on their thighs. The
maknae definitely felt uneasy with what’s happening. In fact, it all felt foreign to him.

Sure, they experienced ‘fun’ altogether but never with other women. They used to be faithful
to you. And the thought of having this escapade just felt so wrong but he didn’t know how to react
especially when beside him, Yoongi remained stoic as ever.

Jimin didn’t waver, making out with the woman on his lap seconds after. And that sight only
triggered other dancers to press their lips on the others.

But Taehyung and Hoseok weren’t having any of it, politely flinching and dodging the kisses
because lips were too intimate and off-limits for them; thus, the women kissed them on other parts
like ear and neck instead.

On the other hand, Seokjin was stuck with the aggressive lady who acted like a sex-starved woman
dancing for him. He tried to be courteous in dismissing her though.

“Miss, really. No need. I’ll pay you double if you stop—”

But the woman slutdropped in front of him, paying no heed to whatever he’s saying that left him
sighing exasperatedly.

Mustering all his patience, Seokjin bit his lips, waiting for their lame presentation to end when
suddenly, the woman reached for his fly. Pissed off, he’s about to tell her off when Hoseok got on
his feet out of the blue, eyes wide as if a ghost appeared in front of him.

“P-peaches?” he stuttered like a deer caught in the headlights, drawing everyone’s attention; all
eyes shifting to the door, the women halting—except for Jimin’s who’s too busy sucking his lips.

And there you were . . . standing by the door frame, looking pale and weak.

“S-sorry. Wrong room,” you choked, eyes lifelessly drifting to the floor before you stormed out of
the place as if your whole world just collapsed right in front of you.

Despite the tension inside the room, the woman kneeling below Seokjin tried to continue her deed
and pulled down his zipper but the man instantly gripped her wrist to stop her. “I said fucking
stop!! Don’t you know what stop means?”

Shaken by how angry he sounded, the woman looked at Jimin as if asking what to do and the home
owner just gestured a nod, resulting for her to stand up and move away.

The same time, Taehyung spoke lowly, “I think it’ll be best for you ladies to just leave.” His face
had no hint of any humor that he’s suddenly too intimidating; the women obediently stepping away
from them while Jimin just exhaled deeply, reaching out the payment discreetly before they headed
out—the so-called party ending along their way.
With the five others scandalized to see you seeing them in that state, it took a few seconds of
silence for everything to sink in.

“S-she, why was she here?” Hoseok turned to Jimin, perturb and worry in his eyes while the latter
only shrugged.

“She’s been living with me for quite some—”

Everyone seemed surprised but Seokjin didn’t waste time and strode to go after you but Jimin
hurriedly stopped him, grabbing him by the arm. “Hyung, don’t fall for her dramas.”

“What the hell are you saying?!” the eldest snarled, whirling his arm away from his.

Jimin quickly reasoned out, “It’s not our responsibility to rebuild the relationship we didn’t
break. It’s hers! She deserves—!”

Seokjin’s strong fist met Jimin’s jaw, the younger’s head tilting sideways due to the sudden force,
alerting the others who intuitively cling on both of them to pull them apart so nobody would get
hurt further.

Jungkook tried his hardest to rein the eldest whose eyes burn with fury, berserk as he barked at
Jimin, “You motherfucking jerk!”

Tongue poking his cheek, Jimin unflinchingly spat back, eyes narrowed into slits, “Hyung,
she left us!!”

Taehyung, on the other hand, was trying to calm down his best friend, preventing him from
moving close to the other.

“Jimin, if you’re still fucking mad at her, go sulk alone like the immature boy you are!” Seokjin
hurled back, still fuming in rage. “Don’t drag us along your fucking stupidity!” he growled, leaving
the room.

Apparently, what angered Seokjin more was the fact that Jimin has been living with you for a
while and still had the nerve to pull off a stupid party like that! On the contrary, the four others
stayed inside.

“Jimin, I don’t want to accuse you or what,” Hoseok sternly uttered, “But did you invite us on
purpose just to let her witness that?”

His hand rubbing his pained jaw, Jimin’s hesitated but seeing Yoongi and Jungkook already
looking dismayed and infuriated, he confessed, “She’s gonna leave my place sooner or later
anyway. Might as well let her know that we’ve moved on from her just right.”

Letting out sarcastic snorts of disbelief, the others stepped away from Jimin after hearing that. Oh,
their faces unreadable; it’s such a mess.

“Take it easy!” Taehyung called out, exerting efforts to bring peace, “Guys, stop ganging up on
Jimin. You don’t understand what we’ve been through when she left.”

THE NIGHT YOU SAID ‘LEMONS’

“We didn’t celebrate our second anniversary properly because of our hectic
schedules,” Jungkook notioned, his bunny teeth flashing with his big smile, “I think
it’s just right to surprise her tonight.”
Eyes disappearing into crescents, the thoughtful Jimin chirped in agreement, “She’s
gonna love it!”

A FEW HOURS LATER

Weary after a hectic day at med school, you turned the knob, entering Namjoon’s
house to visit as promised; the darkness greeting you when suddenly . . .

The room lit up in different colorful fairy lights. “Surprise!” they shouted in unison,
confetti and a champagne bottle popping out to startle you. “Belated happy
anniversary, baby!”

Balloons were scattered everywhere, the scent of delicious foods filling your nostrils
as the seven loving men appeared right in front of your eyes.

You smiled weakly, giving them a nod as you greeted back. “Belated,” you worded
out lifelessly.

In an instant, Namjoon beamed at you, arms wrapping around you as he hyped you up
further, “Let’s celebrate! We missed our girlfriend so much! We—”

“I’m tired.” Your eyes dropped down to the ground as you placed your bag down the
sofa.

Two words and they already comprehended that it’s another date night you’re cutting
off, the disappointment slowly shrouding them as they exchanged knowing glances at
each other.

But hey, if Jimin—who was the mastermind, organizing this whole surprise party
despite having no sleep yet—could keep the smile on his face, why should they
complain?

Despite the room falling in an awkward silence, Hoseok immediately reached out to
your stiff shoulders, trying to give it a quick massage while Jimin held your hand in
hopes that it’d lift the exhaustion you’re talking about. “You can sleep on my bed,” he
lovingly offered, leaning close to press a kiss on your head. “It’s the softest—”

Unfortunately, his lips didn’t even reach you because you winced, dodging him and
letting go of his hand. “I mean it,” you cut Jimin off with a stoic face at the same time
you dismissed Hoseok’s gesture with a shrug to get off your shoulders.

The tension thickened as they looked at you without a sound.

Choosing to ignore the silence, you brushed past most of them, but then someone
grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you to face them again but you countered by
withdrawing your hand from him. “Ya!”

Hands balling into fists at how uninterested you seemed, Taehyung strongly stated,
“The problem with you guys is that you keep on spoiling her.” His voice was filled
with annoyance but he directed the blame to the others.

Stealing a quick glance at you, Jungkook took your side as usual. “She’s just tired!”

“We’re tired too,” Yoongi with a more resigned expression joined the argument, “—
but we spare time for her.”
From across the room, the eldest’s gaze was fixed on you. “You know we could
always talk this out properly, right?” he asked, voice soft and pleading.

“You’ve changed,” Namjoon breathed, disappointment evident in his tone.

A thick lump started forming in your throat but before you could give out a response,
Hoseok beat you to it, defending you, “We should just give her some space. Med life
isn’t easy.”

The discussion lengthened when Taehyung decided to bring up more arguments. “I

have med friends and they still go out with me from time to time! My own girlfriend
doesn’t even make time for me anymore,” he bitterly spat, shooting you a frown.
“You’re only a sophomore med student but you’ve been busier than ever! My friends
are even your seniors but—!”

Your face turned into a stone, your voice sharp as you snapped back, “Go date them
then!”

“Maybe I should!” the saxophonist suddenly raised his voice back at you, startling the
others. “But guess what?! I couldn’t! Because my heart belongs to you and only
you, you inconsiderate woman!”

Without batting an eye, you retorted blankly, “I don’t wanna date anymore.”

Again, the silence hovered thick in the air. It’s so brittle that it’d snap at any moment.

With a deep exhale, Jimin brushed everything with a harmless resolution. “Fine, we’ll
just reschedule.” His fingers raking through his hair as he thought of alternatives. “We
could just watch a movie tonight, eat pizza just like what we—”

“Jimin, I’m serious.”

“W-what do you mean?” Namjoon looked at you with uncertainty.

“I just.” You averted your eyes somewhere, biting your lips as you tried to find words
to give out. “I wanna be alone.”

Not backing down, Yoongi bantered with a scoff, “You rarely visit us these past few
days and you’re saying you want to be alone?”

His debate put you in silence as if you’re a fish out of water. And now, the anxiety has
crippled them.

{BGM: Hate Everything—Golden}

Hoseok, who’s staring at you with despair, called on all his courage to ask. “Are you,”
he trailed off, voice shaking in fear, “—breaking up with us?”

Your throat went dry and suddenly your eyes were turning glassy with tears as you
slowly nodded.

“No!” Jimin roared in opposition, “We’re not breaking up! We’re gonna fix this!”

And Jungkook conjoined the violinist’s firm statements, “We’ll fix it and we don’t
care if it’ll take us a whole day to—!”
“You’re all just too much for me!” you thundered, losing your temper. “I don’t wanna
fix anything anymore!” you pleaded, breaking your silence, “Please. Just let me go.”

It seemed like the instant you broke your silence was the same time you broke them
too because there’s Jimin falling to his knees, embracing your hips as he cried,
“Please, no. Whatever we did wrong, we can fix it, kit.”

But that act only made your decision more resolute; your hands creating a distance
between you two as you pulled away from him.

Namjoon attempted to reach out for you too, but you refused to let him get close.
“Please,” you muttered lowly, “I can’t do this anymore. Enough.”

You turned to the door, slinging your bag onto your shoulders but someone grabbed
your arm, stopping you.

“Doll, I’m sorry,” Taehyung panicked, “I didn’t mean what I said I—”

“Lemons,” you breathed and the room fell in the deepest somber silence ever; their
world suddenly frozen, the sound of their hearts breaking so deafening.

They couldn’t believe what you just uttered.

Of course, they always knew what to do if you ever say that phrase. It’s been common
knowledge for everyone that a safe word meant ‘stop’ which was why they always
reminded you to use it the instant you feel a need to . . . but never did you use that two
syllables.

‘I’ll never bail out,’ was one of your constant phrases, attesting how much you love
them.

And now, they just couldn’t believe the fact that you chose to use it in a situation
where they least expected.

Hearing that word instantly had them tearing up and while everyone was still caught
off guard, you attempted to leave but Yoongi was quick to throw you a brazen
question that had you freezing in place.

“I thought you loved us?”

On pins and needles, the seven of them waited for you to take back your word, praying
that you’d tell them you’re sorry and that you do love them; that you never really
wanted to hurt them with what you’re doing right now.

But you didn’t say anything and even insisted on turning the knob. Oh, if you only saw
the tears falling from their eyes.

Another venomous yet yielding statement escaped Yoongi’s lips. “I guess we were
wrong.”

It triggered their hearts to shatter even more while all you did was exit and step out of
their lives.

Indeed, the room succumbed into complete chaos the second you left; all seven of
them arguing about you and what they should do which eventually led them to find
out that Seokjin knew something they didn’t. And it only made things worse.

There was a deadly silence before Taehyung spoke again, “Hyung, how dumb do you
take us for?”

The somber expression on the saxophonist’s face hinted how insulted Seokjin made
them feel that the eldest just dropped his eyes to the ground. He couldn’t answer.

“Hyung, what makes you better than us when I’m sure I love her just the same?”
Jungkook questioned, shooting daggers Seokjin, “—or better yet, I love her
even more than you do!”

It was Jimin backing up the maknae with another angry statement, “I’m sure you love
her too. But if you really love her, you won’t just let her go, you jerk!”

Having enough of their stupid argument, Seokjin barked back, fists turning white,
“She wanted bail! If we really love her, we’ll let her go!”

Enraged, Jimin was about to throw a punch, if not for Namjoon stopping the violinist’s
fist. The leader only shook his head calmly while Jimin just brushed him off and
turned to Seokjin with a cuss, “You’re a fucking coward!!”

It’s Yoongi’s icy words that halted everyone, “Why are you even arguing about her
when she doesn’t even love us for her to leave just like that?” His face was void of any
emotions, contrasting the pain that his question embodied.

The pianist’s pessimism was dragging them down individually too but the maknae line
wouldn’t just stand there and lose you like this.

Determined to chase after you and win you back, Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook
followed you. And the moment Jimin caught up to you in the nearby park, he did
every desperate thing he could think of: scrambling to kneel again, crying over you,
pleading and begging—never mind the cold weather, all he wanted was you.

“Kitten, please,” he croaked, embracing your legs, “What will it take for you to stay?”

It then started raining when Taehyung and Jungkook caught up but nobody was fazed
by it.

“I promise I’ll be good. We’ll be better. We won’t bug you if you’re busy,” Jimin
desperately bargained, voice shaking in misery, “You don’t even need you to spend
time with us if it’s really complicating your studies.”

When you didn’t reply, he added, frantic, “You don’t even need to call or update. You
don’t need to do anything. I’ll do everything for you instead. Please!”

“Jimin,” you finally answered, lifelessly looking at his tear-soaked eyes. “That’s not a
relationship. Relationships mean meeting halfway. I can’t—”

“Fuck meeting halfway!” he growled, “Just stay where you are and I’ll go all the
way! Wherever you are, I’ll go the extra mile. I don’t mind. Just please . . . stay.”

The violinist’s pleading and begging continued but your resolve had taken over you
despite a lone tear falling down your cheek. “I don’t need your extra mile cause I’m so
sick and tired of everyone,” you coldly informed, pushing him away so you could be
free and he was rendered speechless, disrupted by your reply.

Staying rooted to the ground, Jungkook’s heart broke into shards, taken aback at how
you threw all those hurtful things at them.

You can’t mean them, right? You’re lying, he told himself but when he caught a
glimpse of your eyes, all he could see was a heartless stranger.

Having enough of all the shit happening, Taehyung knew he had to stay strong for the
other two who were completely devastated by your words and actions. “Nobody needs
this kind of relationship!” he fumed, striding over to where Jimin was sprawled.
“Guess what?! We don’t need a girl like you who just leaves whenever the hell she
wants!!”

Jimin pounced onto the careless saxophonist. “No, Taehyung! Stop saying bullshit! I
need her. We need her!” he debated, “We love her so—”

“JIMIN, GET A FUCKING HOLD OF YOURSELF!” Taehyung roared, holding back

his own tears as his fists crumpled the other’s wet shirt; Jimin breaking into seams of
tears. “Yoongi’s right! She doesn’t want us anymore!”

Shivering, Jimin looked at you, exhaustion painted on his sad face. “Is that true, kit?”
he asked in broken sobs. “Tell him it’s not. We’re fixing this, right? We promised we’d
never take anyone for granted.” Falling on his knees again, he reached out for you,
hand waiting for your touch.

Your eyes dropped to the ground, back turning on him. “Jimin. I’m sorry.”

And that’s when they knew you had no plans of taking back those hurtful words.

“We don’t need your apology!” Taehyung shouted, hands trying to bring Jimin up on
his feet as you walked away. “Chim, we shouldn’t be sad about her giving up. She’s
the one who lost people who wouldn’t ever give up on her!” He slung his friend’s arm
around his shoulder, assisting the violinist in standing but was obviously having a hard
time keeping both their balance. “JUNGKOOK! Get over here! Jimin’s freezing!”

Due to the urgency to catch up on you, Jimin forgot to grab a jacket despite the cold
weather and Taehyung was purposely shouting aloud so you could hear, but still . . .
you left, not even sparing them a glance as you hailed a taxi.

The car left and that had him breaking into tears and sobbing onto Jungkook’s
shoulder while Jimin was leaning on him as well.

“Fuck! She really did leave despite all the things I said,” Taehyung cried in between
sobs. Knowing you, he thought of having a different approach, provoking you to leave
and saying that they didn’t need you too but clearly, it wasn’t effective. Defeated, he
fell on his knees. “I’m sorry. I thought . . . I thought she’d be at least afraid to lose us
one bit.”

Jungkook was crying nonstop, seeing the state of his two hyungs felt so heavy that he
didn’t know what to do. Good thing Hoseok and Namjoon arrived, pulling the three of
them up on their feet and driving them back home.

But as the seven of them gathered in one place again—without you in the picture—it
just didn’t work out anymore. From time to time, they’d argue and blame and cuss and
fight each other. It was so toxic.

A month after the breakup, the group officialized their disbandment, mutually
deciding that going on their separate ways would be the best option for everyone. With
that much history, it’s not like anyone could stay within the band in peace anyway.

Two months later and it’s Jimin and Taehyung meeting up at a secluded park for
another drinking session to forget.

{BGM: How can I love the heartbreak, you`re the one I love—AKMU}

They didn’t care if they started drinking midday, all they wanted was to taste the
bitterness of whatever alcohol they had and drown in it.

Sitting on the grass, Taehyung reached the cigarette— in which your name was
written—to his lips, inhaling and exhaling it afterwards. Yes, he started smoking and
the break up was to be blamed for and—

“At the count of three, we’ll stop loving her!” Jimin yelled to the sun setting beneath
the pink and orange colors of the sky.

Taehyung heaved another heavy sigh of smoke and with his other hand holding a half-
filled bottle of soju, he drank it in one go, wincing at the awful taste then, he tossed the
empty bottle. It’s not like he could go against his best friend, so he just prepared his
own heart, joining in the challenge and listening to the countdown.

Getting ready to erase you, his long slender fingers gesturing the number three to
himself as he stared at the stick, your name slowly easing off every time he breathed in
the nicotine.

Somehow, it felt empowering, as if forgetting you was attainable and that memories of
you would disappear the same time he finished his cigarette.

“One!” again, Jimin growled ferociously to the sky, yet the flashbacks of your first
interactions whispered softly back at him.

He recalled joining Tinder and stumbling upon your cat profile. All those waiting for
your replies. All those giggles that escaped his lips because he was so happy talking to
an interesting stranger. All those days that turned into months because he grew fond of
you in the end. Even the excitement on his face that day he met his kitten flashed in
his mind.

Damn, why was he reminded of such things?

Trying to fight the sad fact of missing you, he yelled a little louder.

“Two!”

This time it’s the first few kisses that haunted his memory, quickly followed by the
secret flirting inside Namjoon’s house, in the cafe, at school. The thrill of chasing after
you. The tension of being ignored by you. How hard it was to get you. The satisfaction
of having you in his arms after finally clarifying a certain misunderstanding. And that
happiest moment you agreed to be their girlfriend.

Jimin then weakened, downing another bottle before whispering, repeating, “Two.”
 It’s the skinny dipping together, the sneaking around to kiss and cuddle, the falling
asleep in each other’s arms, the genuine ‘I love you’s and the ‘Nothing can tear us
apart’. Those memories took a toll on him that he’s starting to tear up effortlessly—
hating how you’re not by his side.

Meanwhile, the repeated word had Taehyung surprised and confused, snapping him
out of his own sentimental thoughts, the grey smoke escaping his lips.

“Four,” Jimin painfully hiccuped.

The sudden skip had Taehyung immediately rising to check on his best friend and
upon tapping his back, he sighed again, seeing Jimin crying for the millionth time.

“Tae, I can’t,” the older sobbed, brows knotted in disillusionment. “Fucking number
three. Why can’t I throw everything away just like how she did? How can she say she
loves us yet decide to leave us the next day?”

Even Taehyung couldn’t answer that question. Moistening his lips, he tried his best to
hold it in and not get too emotional or else they’d end up in another troublesome
crying session where they’d drink and get drunk and try to get to you with puffy and
swollen eyes. Indeed, the both of them had cried oceans, wondering what they ever did
to deserve such heartbreak.

They might go and beg for you to take them back again, only to figure out that they
didn’t have any idea where you’re staying at all.

Boy, they were stupid sober and most probably stupider drunk so Taehyung exerted
himself to stay grounded. At least one of them should, right?

But then Jimin asked another heartbreaking question, “How could she leave us just
like that when all we did was love her wholeheartedly? Without any reservations.”

That question stuck in their minds. It planted something in their broken hearts and it
grew, the two of them returning to their old playboy ways, refusing to ever get
attached again. The scar you left them was extremely painful that neither of them
wanted to feel it again. The struggle of moving on and the fear of being left behind
were always in the back of their minds, making them the most cautious, sly and
guarded womanizers once again.

***

PRESENT

The doorbell rings—which is odd because Jaebum isn’t expecting any visitors tonight, but despite
the confusion, he stands up and goes to the door.

As soon as it opens, you stride to him, sobbing desperately on his chest that he stays frozen in
place, caught off guard by your overflowing tears. Seconds after, he hugs you tightly, his voice low
and subtle. “Are you okay?”

But you only continue to cry, your heart exploding with pain that it’s so excruciatingly hard to
breathe.

Your friend just lightly rubs your back in response, enveloping you in his embrace as he lets you
cry furthermore, knowing that you need to let it all out.
His cheek presses on your head as he says in a hushed tone, “Whatever it is, I’ll listen.”

For a few heartbeats, nobody moves, just a couple of sobs and cries coming from you as you
release all your pent-up frustrations helplessly. You feel his strong arms wrapped around you,
telling every bit of you—body, heart and soul—that he is with you even in silence.

And it somehow mollifies your pain.

The instant you stop crying, Jaebum pulls away just to look at your face. With a heavy exhale, he
clicks his tongue, his big hands cupping your face, his thumb softly wiping your tears dry. “Since
when did you become a cute crybaby?”

Your brows pinch in slight annoyance as you hit his chest faintly, knowing it’s his way of cheering
you up and then an adorable familiar cat nuzzles its nose on your ankle.

“Hi Nora,” you greet her weakly and that’s when your friend drags you inside.

The soonest you settle on the living room, his cat fondly rests on your lap and with your sad eyes
staring into space, you pet it absent-mindedly.

Wanting to calm you more, Jaebum reaches you a glass of water. “What happened?” he says as you
take his offer and drink.

Even if you don’t feel like talking, you muster all your remaining strength to. “I was gonna go get
my things at Jimin’s when I barged into all of my ex having a—” you trail off, mouth drying up
that you’re suddenly having a hard time to word it out.

Cocking his head slightly, he asks, “A what?”

“A prosti party.”

No tears left to cry, you’re not even sure if that word exists but with him letting out a snort of
disappointment, you’re sure he understood. As your friend, you’re expecting him to cuss at those
men and take your side but instead, he looks at you strictly.

“Tell me honestly,” Jaebum starts; his face blank, “Why were you living with Jimin?”

Asking yourself the same question, you swallow the thick lump that has formed in your throat, not
knowing why you’re suddenly nervous. Fidgeting with your nails, you answer, “Gramps, it’s really
just because his place was near my new hospital and—”

Unimpressed with your previous answer, he repeats as if not falling for your white lies, “Why were
you with Jimin?”

You pointedly look away as you argue, “Jaebum, I told you already. I was just—”

“Stop trying to walk away and hold on at the same time!” he frankly scolds you, annoyed at how
you’ve been insisting that you’ve long moved on yet still stupidly get yourself in a shitty situation
that you kept secret from him.

His statement is like an ice bucket splashing all over your face. Suddenly, every bit of emotion
awakens inside you once more, all the things you endured for the past few months because of these
men you now call exes.

{BGM: Insomnia—The Rose | on repeat because this song just hits every fiber of your
being}

Encountering Jeon Jungkook wearing a white uniform in your hospital had been the
first and one of the many big challenges you faced. The surprise of finding out that he
pursued Medicine was a lot to take in. And though you brushed it off calmly, deep
inside, you were both proud and scared.

Proud. You just couldn’t help but feel it, especially when he used to hate studying the
most. As a med student, you’ve been there. You could imagine the effort he must’ve
exerted, the sleepless nights, the crazy exams, the extremely difficult topics, the heaps
of exhaustion thrown by every semester. And seeing him walk in as an intern meant he
survived all that.

Scared. How the hell could you meet him on a regular basis without falling for him all
over again when everyone in that hospital lobby was already swooning at his sweet
voice and good looks?

You knew there’s only one way for you to do so . . . and that’s to distance yourself as
far as you could; hence, you made sure to do it every day—acting all aloof, ignoring
him on purpose, pretending that he’s just a normal intern in your busy world.

Then and there, he gave you your hot chocolate, reminding you how they used to
comfort you with the warmth and sweetness of your favorite drink . . . but you rejected
it unkindly, having to break it to him that you’ve changed as early as you could. You
shouldn’t keep his hopes up when you’re certain that you’d never get back together no
matter what happened.

But it was easier said than done.

The fact that every day, the moment you got up and before leaving your place, you had
to look at yourself in the mirror and do a routinary pep talk of how you should act
blasé all throughout the whole day at work—reminding yourself to resist sneaking
glances, to stop yourself from calling out to him, to fight the urge to have small
conversations with him, to keep it inside that you wished his seniors weren’t giving
him a hard time because you experienced a lot of it back in your days, to hide the pride
you’re feeling whenever he excelled at tasks, to conceal the jealousy when other
doctors showed interest in him, to abstain from hugging him despite it being the only
thing you wanted to do. Those reminders were proofs of how pathetically weak you
were.

God, there were tons of things to refrain from but the bottom line was to not fall for
Jeon once again. But how could you not when you witnessed his efforts of bringing
you coffee no matter how much you rejected it—day after day?

Jungkook wouldn’t give up, thus pushing you to step up your game too. You ignored
every wrong drink he offered you but . . . if only he knew.

If only he knew that you were secretly rooting for him all the time and wishing he’d
finally figure out which coffee you drink; and even when he couldn’t, by the end of the
day, you’d foolishly order the exact coffee he gave you earlier to taste it before going
home because just the thought of him guessing that this was the flavor you’d like
made you smile to yourself. And hey, you’ve discovered more great tasting coffee
thanks to him.
For days, you’ve been holding back just fine but the coordinator just had to pair you
together, and with Sunny added into the picture . . . you knew you couldn’t withstand
his charms.

You were bound to never get over Jungkook and spending time with him and Sunny
justified your feelings. He was a wonderful man and you couldn’t help but fall deeper
every time.

By the time Sunny passed away, you were on the verge of wanting to be with him, to
just lean on him and let his kiss take away every pain you’re feeling. That’s when you
knew you had to cut him out of your life.

It’s too risky to have him beside you because he’s just too hard not to love. He’d do
anything for you and you didn’t want him to make a fool of himself so you withdrew
from being his mentor. It’s only fitting that you don’t show interest when you’re not
willing to engage in a relationship.

Thereafter, Kim Taehyung having someone new wasn’t pleasant to witness. In fact,
you definitely felt a stinging jealousy when he flaunted his girl in the ER. It had you
realizing that you should’ve cherished the days when he was still yours. It had you
longing to turn back time—even to those days when he was bugging you 24/7 and
mischievously blackmailing you to play with him in exchange of keeping your secret
from Namjoon.

You hated how he looked at her with fondness as if she made the sun and stars collide.
You hated how her arms were draped all over him as if he’s her property. But then
again, you had no right to be bitter because he really did belong to her now and you
could only pray that she’d love him right and make him the happiest man in the world.

Why? Because it’s what he deserved—happiness.

Ironic. Back then, you sort of thought he was bothersome and a spoiled brat but boy,
looking at Taehyung now, you’d kill just to be his lucky girl again.

But maybe envy was just the primary emotion you’re meant to feel the soonest you see
an ex with a new lover. Perhaps it’s normal to feel this way. You gotta give yourself
the benefit of the doubt or else you might end up depressed.

And so you swallowed the hard pill of him moving on from you and accepted the
outcome of your decision to break up.

However, the next challenge was catching this woman cheat on him which triggered
you. Her audacity to toy with Taehyung had you cheesed off.

It was natural to inform him; you valued him far too much to just let someone play
with his heart but your sincerity was responded with sarcasm and doubt.

“Do you still have hangups on me?”

His words had you back to your senses, making you realize that you did sound
pathetic. You absolutely do not have hangups on him but your action had him
concluding shit. Why should you care about him when he’s completely moved on
from you?

So you decided not to get tangled up with his mess, but his sudden appearance at the
bar and asking you to keep him company had you grasping how badly hurt he was
which discreetly hurt you too.

It was unintentional—the dragging his drunk ass onto his bed which eventually led to
intimacy.

Indeed, it was plain stupid but you had to prove yourself at one point, testing yourself
if you could fuck him casually without feeling things. It’s the ultimate assessment you
needed to pass but the memories you thought you’ve forgotten only engulfed you as
you took in those anime-like eyes, those lips, that deep and soothing voice, those
kisses and many other things that Taehyung did that night.

You allowed yourself to be his rebound just for the sake of verifying that you’ve
gotten over him.

For a quick moment, you let your guard down, indulging yourself with a man that
could actually satisfy your needs for the first time since the breakup and you didn’t
regret it one bit . . . well, except for seeing him back together with his cheating woman
the next day.

Not only that, but by fucking her in the hospital premises, he made you
feel cheap a n d replaceable. And that’s how you realized that you truly haven’t
recovered from him and you hated him for that.

He’s a jerk and always had been the playboy . . . but clearly, you seemed to always be
the stupid woman who kept falling for his tricks which made you hate on yourself
more so you built your wall higher than before.

Yet no matter how high your walls were, an inner chaos lingered. Somewhere in your
heart, there seemed to be an endless void that always reminded you of Jung Hoseok
and how you missed him so much.

Why did it feel like you have this some sort of unfinished business with him aside
from the break up years ago? It’s as if the deities kept wanting you to mull over your
everyday life and wonder if it’s right to not be with someone so pure and sincere that
the regret still haunted you every night.

He never left your mind and more importantly, he never left your heart. But no matter
how much you ached for him, you knew you couldn’t take back the years that passed,
the pain that etched, and the relationship that ended.

The next challenge was trying to get back to the dating ladder. And it must’ve been
both serendipity and karma for you to end up in another blind date with Park Jimin.

That moment, you sensed that something had definitely changed in his aura but you’re
just too confident about yourself to think things through because you wanted to save
face, to show him that you’re not one bit affected to see him again despite feeling
jittery deep down.

His offer was absolutely fucked up, tempting but fucked up. On the other hand, your
life must’ve been more fucked up for you to agree thoughtlessly.

And then it’s like stepping into a quicksand; having Jimin pleasure you became an
addiction you drowned in. You knew you’re being reckless but what could you do?
The illusion of having moved on along with the leisure you obtained from him had
you wrapped around his finger.

Like Tae, Jimin had been the Casanova and you’ve convinced yourself repeatedly that
you’re cool with him having flings and side-chicks. It was all casual hookups until you
realized that staying with him cured your insomnia. Every time you stepped into his
apartment felt like returning to a piece of home you’ve always yearned for.

Even if you rarely interacted, just the thought of living together gave you a figment of
familiarity and how happy you used to be, as if time turned back to those moments you
were living with all of them. If you’d be honest, there were times when it didn’t matter
if this set up was a dream or a nightmare; all you wanted was to be with him without
any consequences even for a while.

Yes, you’re aware that he’s purposely hurting you every day—emotionally and
mentally but you’re determined to let it slip because you believed that you’re strong
and an ex-girlfriend who’s over it shouldn’t be affected by whatever he did. Or maybe
. . . subconsciously, it was your restrained hope that he’d return back to the man you
once knew that had you staying?

But aside from that, the main factor might be you being too numb to care and it’s Min
Yoongi’s fault. After coming across him and from then onwards, you’re running this
life of yours on autopilot and just letting your frustration and melancholy take over
you.

If not for the ‘What’s fourteen percent of you compared to whatever the fuck others
could give?’ you would’ve cared about what you’re doing with your life as Jimin’s
fuck buddy but no, it’s too late for that now because Yoongi had highlighted
how insufficient you were, how much you lacked and how mathematically unfair the
whole poly setup used to be.

Not only that, it was useless to relent because unlike seeing the playful Taehyung with
someone new, the woman-hater Yoongi living with someone else was a different kind
of painful—hearing him get engaged felt like the end of your world.

Sure, you did promise yourself that you’d be happy for them but knowing that he’s not
with the right woman didn’t count. Personally, you didn’t give a damn about Elle; it’s
her fraud and pretention that had you worried for Yoongi. It was pitiful and wide of
the mark.

He deserved someone who loved him and his every existence. But in the end, there’s
nothing you could do. No matter how much you tried to talk some sense to him, it was
all for naught because you’re not in any position to give comments.

Keeping mind that you’re not the right one for him either, it left you no choice but to
suck it up in silence.

Last of all, unexpectedly seeing Kim Seokjin with another woman in that very spot
only confirmed that the last time you saw him in a convenient store, you were
emotional not because of your hormones . . . but because you never really stopped
loving him.

The challenge of living a life without him has been one of the toughest, in all honesty.
He was your mental care, your main support group, your cheerleader, your joke
 source, your chef. He was so transparent and present all throughout your whole
studying-Med-phase that once you became a doctor, it felt futile without him
congratulating you.

You’ve repeatedly questioned yourself if your decisions were right. Sometimes, the
doubts were too much for you to handle but you had to go on. You’ve endured being
alone for a while, what’s a few more years to add to that?

‘Sometimes you win and sometimes you lose,’ was a cliché everyone was aware of. In
your case, you’d always known that it was a big loss letting them go and you already
convinced yourself repeatedly that you’re fine with it. And you were doing great.

Four years. You’ve managed to overwhelm yourself with work, making yourself too busy to even
think of romance. You’ve blocked the concept of love in order to forget that you’re missing
something in your life. You kept telling yourself that you’re successful and you’re grateful for
everything that you’ve attained; despite being alone, you were happy.

You had to be happy; ending the relationship was your decision after all.

For years, you’ve managed to make yourself believe that shit. But just when you thought that
you’re already used to it, Jimin had to pull off this damned trick of luring you back to his apartment
just so you could witness them having fun, reminding you that . . . yes, you’re living without these
men. As if living with Jimin in the past few weeks wasn’t enough of a reminder that you’re long
over.

On top of that, you just came across Namjoon yesterday, having you mourn at the realization that
you’ve lost a best friend and now this?

Seeing Jimin make out with someone else was bearable, but seeing the others?

Fuck. You swear the whole break up doesn’t compare to all of that.

Misery isn’t a stranger to you though. You’ve danced with it for years, always forcing yourself to
be strong but oddly, no matter how accustomed you are to all these pain, it just hurts so badly.

I mean, meeting them somewhere with a new girlfriend one at a time was tolerable but to see them
with strippers all in one place?

Jimin is right; you weren’t their girlfriend. But that fact doesn’t magically stop you from the hurt
of witnessing them fool around with women.

It was a sharp dagger, no daggers and spears and everything jagged that could wound and make
you bleed mercilessly; it felt like all those things repetitively stabbing the center of your heart—all
at once.

Heaven knows how much you tried—shooing them away and killing all the romance between you
and them. But perhaps it’s too much of a task for you to pull off, especially when you’re involved
in this sad and twisted history with them.

Maybe it’s about time to admit that you failed—big time. With all that’s happened in a span of
time, truth be told, you don’t know where you’re standing. You’re very lost between loving them
and letting them go and it’s eating you up. You couldn’t even understand yourself.

What’s so wrong with them moving on?

You wonder why it still hurts seeing them with other women so badly when you’ve already
accepted the fact that sometimes, you need to let people go so they can be happy even if it results
to you being left out.

You always thought you’re ready to be left out, that if you’re wishing them happiness, you should
be glad to see them with other people. You always wished them the best cause you knew the gut-
wrenching reality.

You weren’t the best for them.

But the immense pain just keeps cutting through, along with the memories you once shared with
them which make it worse.

Then and there, you felt the heavy weight of the consequence of your decision, what you lost and
what you’ve been always been missing. Fuck, it seemed like they really had moved on from you
completely, contrasting the harsh truth that for you, it’s still impossible to unlove them.

Game over.

It’s always been game over ever since that night you said ‘lemons’ but it took this long for it to
actually sink into your brain. Sadly, perhaps no matter how much your mind prepares for it, your
heart would never be ready.

Breaking down due to all those thoughts, you erupt in despair, shedding tears. You’re nothing but
one big emotional mess that’s still reluctant to address anything or word out things properly
because it hurts. It fucking hurts so much that you cry your heart out due to everything you’ve been
through, your palms covering your face as you sob again.

They say those who care about you can hear you even when you’re quiet and with the way Jaebum
just embraces you goes to show that it’s true.

“I got you,” he sighs, patting your back which only encourages you to cry harder.

Face contorting as you weep, you mumble, “I-it hurts so much.”

Your friend pulls away, his hands on your shoulders as he gazes at you. “If you’re hurting that
much, it just means that you still love them that much too,” Jaebum concludes, his eyes tender and
empathic as he reaches to wipe your tears dry. “And I’m sorry . . . but the mere fact that you’re
trying your hardest to prove that you’ve moved on . . . is the same exact evidence that you
haven’t.”

“Jaebum,” you mutter, your voice laced with disappointment wanting him to change his opinion
that sounded like treason to you. The last thing you need right now is someone who’ll poke a sore
spot on you further.

He breathes heavily, debating, “Granny, I just can’t understand why you broke up with them in the
first place if you love them that much.”

Why?

The events from the past then vividly flash in your mind and in no time, you’re telling your
friend everything that happened—every bit of reasons why you ended the relationship.

A/N: Wow, sorry for the long angsty paragraphs but this chapter was so difficult to make because I
had to get a grasp of everything that you felt. I didn’t expect it to be this heavy though.

Thank you to the reader who came up with “Prosti Party”, i hope it’s okay if i borrowed your
invented word. hahaha.

And wow, Jimin. I’m not sure how much of you guys understand where Jimin is coming from
now, but I hope this chapter gave you a bit of insight. I’m sure to some, this isn’t enough reason for
his shitty attitude in the past chapters, but really, I hope it tugged at your heartstrings even a little
bit.

Jimin fought hard for you. In his own ways. And I think it’s both courageous and tragic. But still,
do tell me about your thoughts, especially those who flooded me with asks about slapping Jimin
back to back. Hahaha.

I’ve been flooded by tons of argument about OT6 without Jimin. so now lemmee ask you . . .
Which side are you on now? Who’s to be blamed?

Now here’s the interlogue you were looking for.

✁----------------------------------

[INTERLOGUE]

THE DAY JIMIN MET YOU IN ANOTHER BLIND DATE

What his friend told him was that he’s meeting a doctor who’s been single for a long time but he
didn’t expect that you would be the doctor he was talking about. How interesting.

It surely reminded him of that time he first had a date with you—you who were all against the
whole setup. Who would’ve thought that a few years later, you’d meet like this again?

Jimin was sure; with how you broke up with them, you wouldn’t dare stay with him for more than
a minute and storm out of the place like the first time you found out he’s ‘oppa’.

Classic you, he assumed, certain that he wouldn’t give a damn about you leaving this time. You’re
better off strangers anyway.

But surprisingly, you stayed. You brazenly stayed; the fire of wrath growing inside him at your
audacity. Everything that happened when you broke up with them reeled in his mind instantly; how
stupid he was for organizing a party for you despite his exhaustion, how stupid he was to run after
you and fight for the relationship when you’ve already yielded, how stupid he was for begging and
kneeling in hopes that it’d make you stay, how stupid he was for crying over you that much. Boy,
Jimin hated how he used to be so stupidly in love with you.

Other thoughts followed, like how Bangtan argued and how they started holding grudges against
each other which eventually led them to disband. All those times where he suffered in loneliness
hovered in his mind and with how you could look into his eyes right now as if you’ve done nothing
wrong only made him hate you more.

***

Both of you finished your meals in a tensed atmosphere and the second you left, he smirked,
attention glued to your phone number on his screen. With his dark eyes, he muttered, “I’ll make
you beg and leave you without second thoughts just so you’d get a taste of your own medicine.”
Revenge. That’s what filled him instantly. The new Jimin didn’t care. All that mattered to him was
to see you break down.

“I’ll make you pay for the awful heartbreak you gave us,” he swore, his lips might be smiling but
his eyes weren’t. “I won’t stop until you’re miserable.”

To be continued.
 lidocaine 2.0
Chapter Notes

⌦ Warnings: a n g s t, a tiny sprinkle of fluff and humor, flashbacks on flashbacks,

polyamory relationship, jealousy, finally a breakup flashback revealed 3/3, dirty
talks, implied smut, may trigger too many feels, too-many-guys-is-a-heartache-
chapter; a roller-coaster-ride of who-the-hell-really-deserved-you feels; push&pull has
never been this stressing!

⌦ A/N: okay, this has been the hardest to write. 85% drama, 15% fluff-humor! It’s
full of messy emotions but i still hope you’d enjoy it. i also think some revelations
would have you smiling and swooning with ‘aww’s! <3 And since it’s about
breakups, happy Pride-day! haha i’ve finished this earlier than planned, so rather than
wait for Chooseday, i just had to make up an excuse to give it to you. xoxo

@JIMIN’S

“Take it easy!” Taehyung calls out, exerting efforts to bring peace, “Guys, stop ganging up on
Jimin. You don’t understand what we’ve been through when she left.”

The saxophonist shares the hardships that they experienced when left behind, then suddenly . . .

An eavesdropping Seokjin rages, “You’re not the only ones hurt so stop trying to justify your shitty
attitudes!”

“She left us for a reason! But most of you were too stuck-up and stupid to even hear it out!” he
spits, reminding them that he once offered to reveal the last argument he had with you but only
Hoseok and Jungkook lent him an ear.

Yoongi was far closed off, detached and uninvolved immediately after that night. “I
 don’t need to know what you argued about, hyung. She broke up with us saying that
she’s tired and wanted to be alone. She didn’t love us anymore and left. End of
discussion.”

Jimin and Taehyung weren’t having any of it as well—not after how much they
chased after you and begged and cried. Besides, they took it to the heart that the eldest
didn’t involve any of them in that argument, claiming that ‘it wasn’t something they
would understand’.

“Don’t bother telling us, hyung. Spoiled brats like us wouldn’t get it anyway,” Jimin
snorted, emphasizing before he walked away, “And wasn’t it your argument in the
first place? Therefore, it must be none of our business.”

His remark had Seokjin tongue-tied while Taehyung only sighed, following his best
friend as they left the house.

With Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung ditching the place, the ones left all turned to the
silent Namjoon but before the eldest could ask him his point of view, the leader stood
up.

“Hyung, I appreciate your offer but . . .” he trailed off blankly, “if she didn’t tell her
best friend about it, maybe she never considered letting me know. You can keep her
secret. Sorry, I’m not interested.”

Despite how impassive Namjoon was, the others felt how hurt he was on the inside. It
probably hurt his pride as the one who knew you the longest to not know anything
about it. And so when he left, they knew that they all needed a break from the band.

“Hyung, I don’t fucking care about her reasons! If she loved us, she loved us—no shitty excuses!”
Angry Jimin bursts into emotions he’s been keeping to himself. “She called the relationship off . . .
for what?! To rest? Because she was so exhausted and too preoccupied with becoming a doctor?
Isn’t that plain selfish? Must I remind all of you that we were on the peak of our careers that time
too but we still made time for her! Not only that, we also never demanded her to choose us over her
studies. All we wanted was her to stay. All we wanted was commitment despite her busy schedule
but what?!”

Everyone is at loss for words, his statements are all valid.

“She still chose to go!” Jimin carries on, flipping over as he recollects the past, “I was begging
—desperately. I thought my eyes would pop out that night but that didn’t stop her from walking
away.”

With a few inhales and exhales, Seokjin tries to calm himself down, knowing that anger won’t fix
anything. “Look, I know this apology is long overdue,” he breathes, eyes shifting from one
member to another. “But I’m sorry. She graded herself unfit for any of us, saying that she’s always
so busy. But it wasn’t really the case.”

Hoseok, Taehyung and Jungkook exchange knowing glances in silence.

“Yes, she had dreams,” the eldest clarifies, “That time, she’s going all out to become a competent
doctor while trying to sate her seven fucking thirsty boyfriends that she didn’t even have time for
herself.”

A heavy sigh escapes his lips but he continues, “She became preoccupied with academics but I’m
sure she hated it too. She hated that she’s always too tired for us, that she even overlooked special
dates due to the stress.”

The room remains silent, just absorbing every word Seokjin tosses.

His eyes slowly turn blurry due to tears he’s still trying to rein back. “That night, she was crying so
hard because she sees so much potential in everyone. She kept insisting that I deserved a better
woman,” he furthers, voice laced with sadness. “She wanted the best for us, thinking that she didn’t
deserve us because she’s lacking in a lot of ways.”

His gaze drifts to Yoongi and then to Jimin. “I’m sorry if we broke up because of me. If you’re still
mad at her please reconsider. It was my fault for not handling my own personal family problem
well. If not for that, things would’ve been fine.”

By now, Seokjin gnaws at his lips as the tears stream down his face and it’s Hoseok who pats his
shoulder.

@JAEBUM’S

“Granny, I just can’t understand why you broke up with them in the first place if you love them
that much.”

Why?

The events from the past then vividly flashes in your mind and in no time, you’re telling your
friend everything that happened—every bit of reasons why you ended the relationship.

TWO WEEKS BEFORE THE BREAK UP

Tired was an understatement. Exhausted and fed up were the right words to describe how you felt
about your academic med life.

And now, you just couldn’t wait to spend a night with one of your boyfriends, Seokjin who you’re
scheduled to be with.

It wasn’t intentional—you, reading a private text message from his mother that popped up when
you were waiting for him to finish his bath.

If you don’t bring a decent girl for us to meet then we’re fixing your marriage by
ourselves whether by hook or by crook, Kim Seokjin. This is your final warning.

There was a subtle sting in your heart which you couldn’t understand at first. You knew
he’d never get married to anyone else because just like the six others, he promised that his heart
was only for you.

But why was your gut-feeling screaming at you that something was off?
The bathroom door opened, revealing a fresh and handsome Seokjin in his bathrobe drying up his
hair with a small towel.

“Did I shower too long?” he asked, plump lips smiling softly, “I’m sorry if it made you miss me
mo—”

“Your parents are fixing your marriage for you,” you said nonchalantly, waiting for his reaction as
you reached him his phone.

“Oh.” He brushed it off with a faint snort and read it himself before responding, “They’re just
always too worried about family ties and other nonsensical matters. And I’ve already told them a
million of times that I’m in a very happy relationship right now.”

Seokjin never hid things from you; perhaps you were just too busy to notice that underlying
problem and it’s not like you could do anything about it either.

Feeling bad, you responded with a heavy sigh which caught his attention.

Tilting your chin up to meet your lonely eyes, he grinned at you, brows wagging playfully. “D’you
wanna meet them?”

The question hovered thick in the air; you, just looking completely taken aback. “Seokjin—”

“I was kidding. It’s a joke, cupcake,” he immediately took back what he said, casually proceeding
to the edge of the bed where his pajama laid still; his enthusiasm getting the best of him knowing
that he’d get to spend the night with you.

If you’d be honest with yourself, you would definitely love to meet his parents but . . .

“How badly do you need to introduce someone?” you asked, fidgeting with your nails.

Halfway through putting on his shirt, he mumbled, “Don’t think about it too much. I’ll just
convince them I’m not interested.”

“What’ll happen if they don’t get convinced?”

“Then I guess . . . I’ll just carry on and be disowned by the family,” he humorously messed around,
his windshield wiper laugh echoing in the room while you stayed tight-lipped.

Immediately, Seokjin shifted his gaze back to you, surprised at your seemingly grim expression.

“Cupcake,” he worriedly cooed, arms suddenly wrapping around you. “It was—”

“A joke. I know,” you filled in the blanks for him, eyes dropping to the ground and refusing to look
into his.

The eldest had always been the type to crack those kinds of jest, but you knew his relationship with
his family. They’ve always been distant and you couldn’t help but blame yourself for
creating more gaps between them rather than sorting it out.

If only you could be a proper girlfriend that could mediate on it, fulfilling the task of convincing
Seokjin to participate more into the family business and such. If only you could be someone
‘official’ in his life.

Mustering courage, you asked, “Didn’t it ever cross your mind to be with someone you can
publicly show off and even marry?”
There it was—the unfavorable question.

“I got you,” Seokjin consoled, tightening his embrace, “You know that’s all that matters to me, to
us.”

Suddenly, the night you agreed to be their girlfriend reeled in your mind like a romantic-drama
movie. You remembered each and every confession they gave, how sincere their love was but it’s
Seokjin’s resolute reasoning that was the most convincing.

“I’m just one. You’re seven.” You were obstinate, unwilling to start the crazy
relationship with them. “And as much as I want to decide, but I can’t really choose.”

You wanted to leave but they held onto you, citing out reasons why they’re okay with
the whole setup they’re imploring.

“Now I know how important relationships are,” Seokjin confessed, “—because I want
to be committed to you.”

He, who was known for his stupid one-night-stand escapades because the mere idea of
relationships never appealed to him, was now talking about it seriously. It was so
unimaginable.

“I can’t give that kind of relation—!”

“Ssh, it’s me time. Let me talk, woman,” he shushed you gently, eyes soft as it gazed
at you. “I don’t care if you’re committed to me a hundred percent the same way I am
to you . . . just let me be committed to you,” he bargained.

That definitely didn’t sound fair. “Seokjin,” you breathed, expressing disagreement.

“No, just hear me out,” his voice was laced with a little panic. “If you dump me, it
won’t change anything. I’d still love you. And no matter how many times you’d turn
me down, it’ll always be the same.”

Your eyes met, his tongue moistening his lips nervously before he continued, “I’ll
never consider being committed to someone else because she’s not you. So if you
don’t agree to be my girlfriend tonight, that’s fine. But just so you know, the word
commitment only pops inside my head when I think of you.”

Cheeks blushing furiously, you’re flabbergasted. Any woman would find it hard to say
no to that.

He’s always been tacky and cheesy but this time, his words hit all the right places.
You could feel the sincerity, the genuine emotions he’s spilling out.

“You’re the only one I want to be with, woman!” he huffed, hands tightening on yours.

Your gaze faltered. You believe him alright . . . but what he’s asking was just too
complicated for you to agree with.

“Seokjin, how can we have a committed relationship when every time I see the six
others I wanna be committed to them too?” you gave him your most honest answer,
wanting him to get your point. “You’re a great guy! Women crave your attention.
 You’re more than enough! All of you are worth—!”

“Like what Jungkook said, you don’t have to. I know it looks complicated because
there are seven of us wanting a commitment with you. But we’re not confining your
emotions solely to one person only. Why choose one when all of us want to be with
you?” he cut you mid-sentence, his question striking you dumb.

More confused than ever, you lifted your eyebrows as if asking him what he meant,
then shifted your attention to the rest.

“We love you. Damn, we just love you so much,” the eldest professed. “And with all
that Bangtan has been through . . . do you think we could selfishly monopolize you
from each other?”

The six others stared at you as if waiting for your answer; none of them willing to let
you go, insisting that the only relationship they wanted was with you.

It was a debate you couldn’t win against any of them because deep down, you wanted
to give it a shot as well. Call it greedy but in the back of your mind, you’re hoping that
it was possible for you to have them all in your life. The frail hope that maybe, just
maybe, it would work out just fine despite the many warnings your friends had given
you.

But with the time that went by, the thought of you settling with the polygamous concept that night
only kept stirring indescribable emotions within you: Anger. Melancholy. Despair.

If only you knew what’d happen . . .

{BGM: I Love You Goodbye—Nina}

Brushing his hands off you, you got on your feet, raising your voice, “Until when?!”

“Ya, why are you angry all of a sudden?”

“Seokjin, why do you want me?” you asked bluntly, chest heaving up and down. “What’s it with
me that has you sticking despite this fucked up situation?”

Creases formed on his forehead. “What are you talking about?” he replied as if you’re asking such
stupid things. “I love you because you’re my girlfriend and you’re my girlfriend because I love
you. Isn’t that it? It’s pretty simple actua—”

“I’m not just your girlfriend for god sake! Why are you sucking up being in a relationship like
this?!” you snapped, failing to understand yourself too.

All you knew was that it’s hurting you and your pride, the feeling of consecutively failing as a
‘girlfriend’. Not only to him, but to all seven of them.

Trying to even out your breathing, you met his gaze, tears threatening to flow out any time that
Seokjin decided to let you release whatever it was you’ve been keeping inside.

Exhaling, he approached you. “Cups, we can always talk this out—”

“Talk what out?!” you roared, hands flailing in the air. “How busy I’ve been becoming that
I barely have the time to check up on anyone?! That I’m always so tired that I tend to sleep on
everyone rather than actually spend time with you guys?!”
“It’s not your fault,” he said, trying to calm you down.

“Oh, yeah? Then whose fault was it when I forgot Jimin’s birthday months ago?” you hurled back,
still condemning yourself as that day flashed in your mind.

Jimin was smiling brightly as he brought you breakfast. “Morning, kit!” he greeted,
leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead as he placed the tray on the bedside
table.

Still half-asleep, you yawned, “Morning, baby. Thought you had a recording today?”

“I wanted to spend this morning with you instead.”

You smiled, making grabby hands at him and he chuckled, reaching towards you when
you suddenly gasped. “Shit, what day is it?”

“The thirteenth.”

You gasped, eyes suddenly wide. “Shit! I’m late for an exam, oppa!” Instantly, you
jumped out of the bed and scrambled to shower. The soonest you finished, you grabbed
your bag and kissed him goodbye. “Gotta go, Ji. Love you.”

He smiled. “Love you too, kit. Good luck!”

By the end of the afternoon, everyone was waiting for you but the six others were so
busy at the kitchen that they failed to notice your arrival.

Exhausted from med school, you immediately went inside a room and found Jimin
busy with a comic book.

“Oh, my kitten is here!” he chirped, tapping an empty space of the bed beside him and
you dove in, quickly resting your head on his chest as you hugged him.

“Tired?” he asked and you just nodded, eyes closing to rest for a little bit.

“What comics are you reading?” you sleepily asked while his finger played with your
hair but before you could even comprehend his answer, you’ve already unintentionally
fell asleep on his chest, your arm and leg over his body that Jimin was paralyzed to
move, the thought of waking you up just frightened him that when Seokjin entered the
room to call him up, Jimin just mouthed a silent ‘Don’t wake her up!’

The eldest was surprised to see you fast asleep and he also tried to argue by wordlessly
mouthing back a ‘But you haven’t eaten yet.’

Yet Jimin just grinned, raising a thumbs up that he’d rather have you sleep serenely
than eat and wake you up.

The moment you woke up, it’s already the fourteenth; his birthday already over that
you apologized repeatedly, feeling bad. You wanted to make it up for him but your
schedule still hadn’t given you a decent time to prepare something for him.

“Cupcake,” he yearned, hands reaching out and asking you to just lean on him because he knew
how weak you’re starting to feel.
“Seokjin, I’m so tired,” you whined lifelessly, “I’m so freaking tired and I’m so sorry about it.
Jimin didn’t deserve a pathetic woman who’d forget about his day.”

“Jimin understands.”

“He always understands!” you gritted, “And that just makes it worse. I feel like shit.”

Immediately, he embraced you, your face on his chest as you started sobbing. “I’m so sorry you’re
all stuck with me,” you cried, “I’m sorry that Jungkook has to keep his first relationship a secret.
I’m sorry that I can’t run away and elope with Yoongi even if I wanted to. I’m sorry that I can’t let
Hoseok have our first kiss framed in the living room rather than a wedding picture. I’m not even
sure if I can get married. And with that problem adding up, I feel so sorry that I can’t give
Namjoon the dream wedding we’ve always talked about since we were young.”

Tears ran down your cheeks as you wept. “I’m even more sorry that I’m keeping Taehyung from
being an amazing dad to three wonderful kids and having a proper family just like what he grew up
with.” Your chest was heavy with all the crying and it got heavier the more you realized your
insufficiency.

It’s been almost two years. Of course, you came to know them. They’ve bared their hearts to you
that it hurt whenever they professed how much they loved you, how much they saw their future
with you, that the amount of slip ups of wishes they had—which you couldn’t seem to fulfill—
accumulated inside your mind.

Tearing up, you peered up at Seokjin, your hands gently cupping his face as you apologized, “I’m
sorry if I can’t give you the right kind of commitment you wanted to have with me. Sorry if I
couldn’t be yours alone. Sorry if I couldn’t be anyone’s wife.”

Sighing deeply, he pulled you in for an embrace. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay!” you argued, pushing him away. “You deserve a woman that could give you the
whole world.”

But Seokjin retorted quickly, “You’re our world. You’re honestly the only woman we need.”

Recoiling, you cried even more, feeling helpless. “You don’t understand.”

He tried to wipe your tears, consoling you as he wrapped his arms around you again. “I do. You’re
just tensed with med school,” he cooed lovingly. “Sleep on my chest and you’ll feel a lot better.”

Taking your silence as a yes, Seokjin lied down and pulled your body along with his as he rubbed
your back, thinking that warm cuddles could alleviate your emotions.

But it didn’t.

“Seokjin,” you whispered, “You guys . . . don’t have any future with me and this set up.”

He heard you loud and clear but chose to brush it off, knowing you’re exhausted. “Shh. I love you
so much. Please just go to sleep and rest.”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t tell the world about us. About this madness,” was your reply but he didn’t
speak anything thereafter. With his eyes shut, Seokjin just hugged you tighter.

You’ve never cried so hard before to the point where you’ve cried yourself to sleep that night.
The next day . . .

You woke up with Seokjin serving you breakfast in bed like how he always did, but you’re still
feeling down in the dumps.

“Good morning to the love of my life,” he sweetly greeted, but you kept avoiding his eyes,
knowing how swollen yours were.

Despite the long slumber, you still felt weak. Truly, there’s a kind of exhaustion that just couldn’t
be relieved by sleeping.

With his usual bright character, your chef boyfriend was trying to feed you but you just requested
with a hushed tone, “Seokjin, I wanna be alone.”

The loneliness in his eyes was starting to show but he granted your wish, pressing a kiss on your
forehead before leaving the tray of food on your bed. “Just know that I love you so much, okay?”

And you forced a nod just so he’d go.

The instant he’s gone, you folded in half, the sadness eating you alive. Sadly, the more you hear
that they love you, the smaller you become; it felt awful.

A relationship should make you grow yet it seemed like the only growth you’re having was
growing tired. Why does it feel like leaving is better than trying?

***

Your second anniversary passed by in the blink of an eye; no celebration took place because you
had a fully-loaded schedule the day itself. And even after that, you could only be more
disappointed with yourself for being stuck with studying that you’ve unintentionally ditched
another date with Yoongi.

They didn’t know how exhausted you really felt on the inside. It’s so extreme that whenever
nothing turned out right, you just sighed heavily, too tired to even feel sorry.

‘Let’s talk things out,’ would be what they’d demand but even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t fall
for that phrase because talking things out just meant sitting you down and explaining what you
feel. And that’s exactly the problem because you couldn’t explain what you’re feeling except for
exhaustion—plain and pure exhaustion. And it’s definitely not something you could sleep for a few
days which would magically disappear thereafter. You wished it would but it’s been months since
you’ve felt that way and never did sleeping eased that problem.

It’s something graver than that.

It couldn’t be solved by anything—no sweet talks, no debates. It’d go down to two choices; either
they pick you or their future, and you’d refuse to let them throw away everything for the illusion
that there’d be something beneficial for them.

In your mind, you’d already imagine how the argument would turn about.

Of course, they wouldn’t let you go. That alone was already an tiring case. They’d make their own
resolutions regarding every bit of reason you’d give them. And if they couldn’t give out solutions
about their future, they’d insist that marriage wasn’t a problem, contending that it wasn’t essential
to any of them when deep inside it was—how could you forget how their eyes would light up
whenever they joked about marrying you individually.
Or if marriage really wasn’t a big deal . . . well, it might not matter for them now but at some
fucking point in the future, it would. They’re all wonderful people; a happy marriage and family
would suit them—something you could never be able to give to all of them.

But no matter how much you’d fairly lay out the pros and cons of this relationship, they’d always
purposely overlook the disadvantages and stick with you until the end, claiming that their
love outweighs shit.

Easy for them to say because they could pour out their hearts onto you and not feel guilty for
showering you with love. In fact, it’s rewarding for them to see you drown in their affection;
whereas, they’ll never understand how you struggle to manage pouring your heart evenly to all
seven individuals all the freaking time.

You couldn’t always do equal math in real life. And fuck, you sucked at it sometimes, especially
when you still had to love yourself too or else you’d fail another major exam that’d cost you your
dream and career.

But knowing them, they’re just as stubborn as you are. They’d insist that it’s okay and say that it
didn’t matter to them even if you couldn’t give back. They’d also say ‘fuck, who cares about the
future’ and a few more cheesy crap like that which you’d foolishly appreciate at some point which
in turn would only sustain your endless loop of desperation.

This setup had always been stupid to begin with.

Seven men and one woman? How absurd.

That’s always been the biggest problem and perhaps someone would be insane and selfless enough
to suggest that you should just marry one of them and live happily together. They’d promise they
wouldn’t hold grudges but to you, settling with one of them wasn’t even a solution.

It’s always been all of them or none of them.

You’d rather die alone than pick one and prove that you really did have favorites after all—when
you honestly loved them equally. Maybe in some aspects you had more rapport with the other but
to sum it all up, it’s all just the same. You loved them with all your heart. It’s just so hard to
balance everything with one heart to love these worthy men.

Therefore, talking about it would never be the solution. No matter how much you looked at it from
every angle or how much you shook up the whole world for answers . . . in this situation, you’re
just not enough for all seven of them. You’ll never be.

And so when you visited them at Namjoon’s house weeks after, you knew you had to cut off the
relationship. You weren’t being just. You didn’t deserve them and honestly, it’s been a hopeless
scenario from the start but you’re too naive, thinking that you could have a positive outcome from
such a fucked up relationship.

One way or another, you knew it just wouldn’t work out.

THE BREAK UP

“Lemons.”

Never in your life did you imagine you’d use that word against them.

You wept, because deep inside you knew you were fighting a losing battle. It wasn’t an easy
decision; your mind has been at war with your heart ever since.

But the biggest question always hovered inside your head, clouding you again and again.

Until when will you feel like you aren’t enough? Like you have seven men to please and seven
happiness trapped and cramming in your small hands that your own happiness gets voided too?

You were right to most of the things you concluded; the maknae line begging and pleading and
insisting just as you predicted. But you only bit back a cry, heart breaking into pieces knowing that
leaving was the best option.

Despite their appeals, you brazenly grabbed the opportunity to step out of their lives. You had to
leave immediately because the longer you looked at them, the harder it was for you to leave.

Their love might prevail over every obstacle they deemed of, but in the end, Bangtan as perfect
boyfriends couldn’t keep this relationship alive. It seemed like perfect wasn’t enough to make
polyamory work out because you’re clearly insufficient and too weak to fight for all of them.

All you’re certain of was that you love them enough to let them go and that someday, they’d find
someone better; someone fitted to love them appropriately.

PRESENT

After sharing your side of the story, you can’t help but cry again, contemplating over and over—
partly regretting the decision you’ve made back then.

“There, there,” Jaebum woos, his hand gentle on the back of your head. “Just cry as much as you
want. I’m here for you.”

“It was never my intention to hurt them,” you desperately explain in between sobs, “but I couldn’t
stop spilling heartless words just so they’d let me go too. Seeing them begging and hurting was the
most difficult thing I had to endure but it was for their own good, right?”

You pull away, staring at your friend’s eyes as you wait for validity and he considerately gives it to
you, nodding softly.

“Sometimes, the hardest thing and the right thing are the same,” he says, tucking loose hair behind
your ear; his eyes filled with empathy as he gazes at you.

With his words making you tear up instantly again, your palms hide your crying face as you sob,
earning a heavy sigh from Jaebum once more.

“I can’t blame you one bit,” he mutters, “You just love them enough to let them go, handing them
their own freedom in hopes that they’ll have a better and happy future without you.”

By now, your heart is at its heaviest that it’s so hard to breathe. All you want to do is cry and
wallow, absorbing everything that Jaebum is stating.

@JIMIN’S
After the revelation that Seokjin shared with them, they all turn to each other with gloomy faces.

“You see, Jimin . . . Peaches didn’t leave because she was selfish,” Hoseok explicates with
conviction, eyes dying to make the others understand. “She left because she was selfless.”

His harsh rebukes have the ’95 duo feeling pathetic.

He furthers, “She wanted us to have the future that slipped from our tongues whenever we flirted
with her or jested about stuff. Commitment, marriage, family, kids; name it. That’s what she
genuinely wished for all seven of us. And here you are, acting like a bunch of jerks and thinking
you have the right to hurt her.”

“Imagine seven breakups!” Seokjin instills once more as if his heart is breaking for yours at the
thought of what you’ve been through alone. “And immature ex-boyfriends purposely hurting her
thereafter.”

@JABEUM’S

“I never knew it’d hurt this bad,” you croak, tears effortlessly coming out from your eyes while
you just stare blankly in space and Jaebum ends up patting your back gently.

“Well, falling once on the stairway was already enough to break my hip bone. Geez,
imagine falling for seven men,” he stresses out humorously and you hit his arm weakly with a
snort.

Your lips curve in a half-smile but your heart is still in broken shards. “Dummy, I’m serious.”

He replies with a genuine sad smile. “Trust me, I know what you feel. I know it hurts and it will
continue to hurt if you keep holding onto the past,” he advises, “You need to cry this out, accept
things and then get back up. Maybe focus on your future next.”

Future.

That word draws tears to your eyes again. “Gramps, I want to. But why does it feel like when I lost
Bangtan, I lost my future too?”

“Then do you wanna get back with them?”

That question has you halting. For a moment, you think things through all over again but as you
review the situation, it’ll probably still end up the same way it did years ago.

“No,” you answer faintly, eyes dropping to the ground in misery. “They deserve someone better
than me. They deserve their own individual happiness.”

Again, Jaebum goes to hug you, admiring your courage despite knowing how much it must be
tearing you inside. “Whatever your decision will be, I’m always here. Remember that, okay?”

“I’m gonna be fine. I was just shocked at how ugly their women were,” forcing a smile, you jest,
not wanting to worry him any further and he hisses at that, rolling his eyes at you even.
“I’m puzzled why you didn’t throw flying kicks at all of them.”

You flash out another fake smile. “It wasn’t worth it,” you reply, trying to stay positive. “Besides,
that’s part of life, I guess. You lose people you never imagined losing.”

But Jaebum can see through you. “Cut the crap. You can beat them up anytime you want. Do
whatever it is that’ll cheer you up, okay?”

“Can I stay here with you for a few more days then?” you ask, certain that you’ll break down into
pieces again the moment you’re alone.

Your friend looks at you and sighs. “Absolutely.”

@JIMIN’S

Jittery, Taehyung turns to his best friend. “Jimin-ah, I know we promised to never be involved with
her again,” he reminds, fidgeting as he confesses, “But the moment I saw her again, the walls that I
built against her for years just . . . broke down effortlessly.”

Everyone is listening, empathy hovering in the atmosphere.

“Sorry, bro. But I was compelled. I wanted her again, even for just a moment. Damn!” Taehyung
groans in disappointment. “I kept it from you because I didn’t want you to know how weak I was
for her.”

Before Jimin can react, “So you’ve interacted with her too?” Hoseok interrogates strictly.

“Hyung,” Jungkook humbly cuts in, “Actually . . . Tae knew about her side too.”

That revelation has their hyungs attention darted to them and the maknae furthers, “It was after my
graduation dinner.”

And they recall that day: Yoongi and Namjoon had different things they had to attend to, thus
sending the maknae a congratulatory sms instead; Seokjin leaving the soonest Jungkook received
his diploma on stage and Jimin arriving late—the dinner celebration the only thing he caught up to.

Despite the others’ absence, it was Hoseok and Taehyung who made sure to still be there for him
on his graduation day.

“We chatted for a little and although Tae didn’t support the idea of me pursuing med, we ended up
talking about the whole break up,” Jungkook shares, “But nothing much changed from his point of
view. He remained neutral.”

Taehyung shrugs. “It’s not like I can do something about it, Kook. It was just fair to know both
sides of the story, I guess.”

“Yeah. That explains why you showed up in the hospital with a girlfriend, hyung.”

“Hey, I didn’t know she was in there too. You never mentioned doll to me at all,” Taehyung
defends.
Jungkook heaves a sigh. “I knew all of you were somewhat shocked when I wanted to study
medicine.”

Given the fact that Hoseok was the only one who supported Jungkook a lot all throughout his med
school life, the others drop their gazes, apologetic.

The maknae glances at Hoseok with a grateful smile. “Let’s admit it, I’m not
particularly that smart.”

His statement has the hyungs smiling partly. “But of course, I’d study if it meant I’d get the chance
to see her or work with her or even be with her for a few times. Yes, I sucked at studying but I just
can’t give up. And when Hobi-hyung found out, he always cheered me on.”

Despite the others against Jungkook’s decision, Hoseok made efforts to meet up as
often as he could.

“This would’ve been a lot easier if Namjoon was with us,” he laughed as he joined the
maknae to study in a coffee shop. “But even if we’re both not as smart as him, I’m sure
you can memorize the whole anatomy-physiology of the body tonight, Kook! I’ll help
you review!”

“Eventually, I grew fond of the medschool challenge” Jungkook admits, “And years later, I got in
as her intern. And, well, things were . . . as complicated as how we used to chase after her.”

Hoseok then recalls; though they didn’t share specific details about their encounters with you,
Jungkook would open up to him sometimes—especially when he’s feeling discouraged.

“Hyung, I think I’m losing her to someone else. I don’t think I can do this anymore,
seeing him take care of her and actually doing a greater job than I. Hyung, what do I
do?”

But he couldn’t even comfort Jungkook because that time he called was the same week
Hoseok was depressed because you didn’t keep your promise after sleeping with him a
few nights ago.

“Maybe,” he trailed off with a weary exhale, “Maybe we should just give up?”

That was their last conversation about you before this party.

“Chasing after her, huh?” Yoongi voices out, eyes shifting from Jungkook to Hoseok. “So the two
of you still plan to—?”

Knowing that Yoongi, Taehyung and Jimin—who took the breakup to the heart—were trying to
forget you while Seokjin and Namjoon—who were hurt but still wished you well in life—opted to
distance themselves from you, Hoseok clarifies, “There were no plans, hyung.”

Jungkook and Hoseok are the ones who remained in touch regardless of the disbandment; both
believing that you just needed time to build yourself up and grow and maybe a few years later,
you’d realize that you still loved them and a day would come that you’d be ready to take them
back.
They could never hate you, understanding that it was hard for you to handle the relationship, Aside
from that, they knew you’re still young. They wanted you to have the chance to reach your own
dreams and figure out what you truly desire in life.

They could only pray that love would bring you back to them in the end.

“Jungkook just mentioned where she lived,” Hoseok explains, “And I, myself, might have been . . .
still—completely—in love with her to work as a DJ near her place sometimes. Okay, that sounds
stupid but I just . . . want to know how she’s doing from time to time. Even though
she rarely visited the bar, damn.”

Seokjin lets out a snort. “I guess I’m not the only coward who couldn’t show himself in front of her
too.”

The eldest believes that loving you would from afar is better than dragging you down with the
complicated relationship you had. He wanted you to stop hurting because you’ve always been the
one who struggled the most.

It wasn’t that hard to track down your address—especially with Seokjin’s wealth. And
knowing that you weren’t the type to cook healthy foods, he had been worried for you
for a long time that he had pulled off stunts you never knew about as he tried to
continue looking after you from a distance.

Like the few times your building gave out groceries on your whole apartment floor, or
that one time where the management left a basketful of fruits for the tenants and many
other events.

All of those things were actually from him.

Aside from that, Seokjin also remembered that one time he sneaked out of his work
just to watch the convenience store cashier hand you free cookies as a congratulatory
gift that day you graduated from med school.

Hidden inside his car, he whispered, “I’m so proud of you, doc,” his eyes savoring the
few-second-glimpse he had of you before he went back to his company.

They all cock their heads in confusion and Seokjin reveals with a shy grin, “I might’ve been asking
a certain convenience store near her place to—”

“To?” Jungkook queries.

“To give her free ramyeon and kimbab and milk, and tell her it’s on the store.”

The maknae’s brows furrow. “Ya, it’s thoughtful but not at all healthy, hyung!” he teases and they
all chuckle knowing that you’re a sucker for those meals mentioned.

“On the store? You’re lucky the store owner grants you that favor,” Tae blurts, resulting for the
eldest’s eyes to waver, his lips pursing too.

Sharp Yoongi prompts, “Oh, hell no. You bought that convenience store, didn’t you, hyung?”

“W-well . . .” stuttering, Seokjin scratches his head sheepishly. “I just wanted to take care of her
even without her knowledge. Even just for a while,” he says with sincerity. “She’s been through a
lot. And I just find myself sneaking outside the store once in a while, hoping that she’d come by
and I’d get the chance to steal a glance of her smile.”

For once, none of them winced with the seemingly cheesy statement because deep inside, they all
felt the same way too. Oh, the things they’d do just to see you smile.

“And I’m sorry if I punched you hard in the face, Jimin . . . but I was envious. You’re one lucky
bastard to actually have her rooming in with you again while I could only pray for a quick
encounter with her in a measly store.”

“Wait, what?!” Taehyung howls, eyes wide as he squints at everyone. “Who’s rooming with
who?!”

Everyone except Jimin face palms.

“You weren’t listening, were you? Jimin was living with her,” Hoseok enlightens.

“Her?” Taehyung echoes in disbelief, turning to the culprit. “You mean my doll?”

Jimin couldn’t meet his best friend’s gaze which shows guilt.

“What the fuck, dude?!” Taehyung immediately pinches Jimin’s nipples—excruciatingly hard—
and the latter shrivels in agony, yelping. “I even defended you from them because I thought you
just happened to invite her to the party, asshole! Were you dating her behind our backs?! Be
honest!” he yells.

“Aak, ah! No!” Jimin responds, face twisted in discomfort. “We’re not dating, idiot!”

Relieved, Taehyung releases him and the house owner recoils and furthers, “She just needed a
place nearby her new hospital.”

“Wait. How’d you know she got transferred to a new hospital?” Jungkook asks.

Jimin sighs at the sudden interrogation but nevertheless answers truthfully, “Her boss called while
we were fucking and—”

Eyes ablaze, Jungkook and Taehyung thunder in sync, “You what?!”

Gulping down, Jimin’s eyes awkwardly point to the ceiling. “We’re kinda . . . uhm, fuck buddies.”

“Bullshit!” Taehyung throws tantrums, finding the whole thing unfair. “I had her once but fuck, she
almost tore my arms off of me a couple of times already. That woman kicks my ass twice as hard
as how she used to! She’s untouchable and you’re telling me you’ve been fucking her
unlimited?!!?!”

The four others are also fuming behind Taehyung, knuckles cracking as they glare at Jimin
altogether; envy resonating in the air. In no time, they all beat him up, alternately hitting everything
they could hit—nothing critical though.

After releasing their frustration, they feel light, except for Jimin who might’ve broken a few bones.
(I’m exaggerating just like how anime shows do chibi brawls.)

“Fuck this. She won’t even let me kiss her!” Jungkook grumbles, Taehyung huffing in agreement.

“I know! I even had to pretend that my girlfriend cheated on me and I was devastated and lonely
and drunk just to trick her into talking to me and spending a little time.”
“Shut up, you two!” raises the eldest.

Instantly, the three of them squabble against each other while Yoongi and Hoseok just roll their
eyes at how chaotic their childish friends are, exchanging knowing glances as if mutually agreeing
that these guys never change.

Thereafter, Jungkook drags the pianist into the argument, dissing Yoongi’s girlfriend. “No offense
meant, hyung. But your girlfriend’s a blabbing brat. She won’t stop talking about her love life at
work. It’s annoying.”

Clicking his tongue, Yoongi ends up confessing his own stories of how he tried to move on and
how he met you once again, along with the additional details he found out.

“We all still love her!” Jungkook concludes, still hopeful. “I’m sure Namjoon-hyung does too.”

Hoseok urges, “We gotta talk to him.”

And that’s when the timid Jimin begins to tear up. “Namjoon-hyung’s mad at me,” he rasps.

With a heavy exhale, Yoongi raises in disappointment, “Jimin, what have you done?”

Eyes failing to meet theirs, Jimin recalls what happened yesterday.

They’re in the middle of catching up when his woman accidentally came across him in
the restaurant. Instantly, she went to Jimin and gave him a kiss, even making herself
comfortable to sit beside him despite Namjoon’s presence.

Kind, Jimin asked her if she wanted to order food but she just shook her head in reply,
batting her lashes at him. “I don’t want food. I want you. Kitten is thirsty,” she
whispered loud enough for Namjoon to hear.

It was awkward, having his hyung to hear how someone else flirted with him—even
using that pet name freely—but before he could react, Namjoon excused himself for
the bathroom.

Not long after, he asked that woman to leave, wanting alone time with his hyung. The
second she left, Jimin dialed your phone number exasperatedly. He’s been calling you
since you left his place but you never answered.

Miraculously, you picked up this time but only to yell and cuss at him. Of course, he’d
retort and raise his voice against you too but before he could finish his sentence, you
rudely hung up on him, earning a sigh of disbelief from you.

His blood was boiling with what you said that he didn’t notice Namjoon coming back
and standing behind his chair when suddenly his phone lit up; Namjoon’s eyes darting
on the unsaved phone number flashing on his screen.

Pissed off, Jimin answered your call abruptly, “What now, slut?”

And as expected, you hurled back with your own disrespectful words and cusses that
had him speechless.

“Well, fuck you too!” was the only thing he had said before you’re cutting the call off.

The soonest he tossed his phone on the table, Namjoon threw a punch on his face,
 jaws clenched as he notified, “Never ever call my best friend a slut, asshole.”

His statement had Jimin alarmed, perplexed at how he knew it was you on the other
line; little did he know, Namjoon had your number memorized in the back of his mind.

Chin protruding in anger, the leader continued with gritted teeth, “Even if she chose
you, you have no right to use such words! And to cheat on her, you stupid jerk!”

“Hyung! I’m not cheating on her. She’s not my girlfriend,” Jimin immediately
explained himself. “We’re just fuck bu—!”

“Park Jimin,” Namjoon taunted, hand gripping the younger’s collar, “You’re messing
around with my best friend. The love of my life. The woman the seven of us dreamed
of. Get your act together before I kill you with my bare hands.”

Intimidated, a thick lump formed in Jimin’s throat, hindering him from talking back.

“If she chose to be with you, at least give her the decent relationship we all once
wished we’d have with her,” Namjoon huffed, angrily pushing the other as he let him
go. “Even if she agreed on your fucked up setup, you know better. You’ve always
been the best at treating her right.”

And that summed up the reunion he had with Namjoon.

“You called her what?!” Hoseok fumes, Jungkook holding him back from hitting Jimin too.

As expected, all of them take Namjoon’s side, furious with the idea of Jimin degrading you.

Even Taehyung couldn’t understand him. “Why?” he genuinely asks, “Weren’t you the one
who decreed that we’d never use degrading words at her?”

Looking back, the saxophonist once mentioned about other people having degradation kinks but
Jimin immediately turned that idea down with a firm ‘NO.’

Somehow, Jimin just bursts into tears, ashamed. “I had to call her names and put up a strong front
or else I’d be begging on my knees again and she’d leave without hesitation.”

After finding out what the others had to go through just to see you, he feels like such a fool,
wasting the chance he had with you.

“I thought I didn’t love her anymore,” he adds, sobbing, “I was too angry yet greedy for her at the
same time. It was so fucked up. I fucked it up. I’m sorry.”

“Everything’s fucked up,” Yoongi infers, trying to reassure Jimin that it’s not only him to be
blamed for.

Jungkook turns to Hoseok. “We need to fix this, hyung.”

“We will fix this mess,” Hoseok reassures, “We’re gonna get her back.”

Seokjin responds with a lifeless exhale that steals their attention. Faking a smile, “Yeah, you guys
go do that,” his voice laced with forfeit.

Brows pinching in concern, Taehyung asks, “Hyung, aren’t you gonna—?”

“I’d love to. I really do . . . but I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Unfortunately, I’m getting married in two days,” the eldest drops a bombshell; the shocking
revelation has everyone taken aback except for Jimin who came up with the bachelor’s party.
Apparently, he found out about the news earlier and decided to throw Seokjin a party, insisting that
the eldest should inform the others about it too.

“Ditch your bride,” Yoongi demands without second thoughts, earning a sarcastic laugh from the
groom-to-be.

“Ditch my bride for what?” Seokjin counters with exasperation. “You know how stubborn doc is.
She’s hurt and she’s resolute,” he frankly prompts, proving a point. “You know I’d ditch my
wedding just for her. But if she left a poly relationship, it only meant one thing—she won’t return
to us.”

“Hyung, there’s still a possibility that she will, but convincing her is gonna be a hard task. It will
take time—“

“And that’s exactly what I don’t have, Jungkook. Time.” Seokjin lays out his cards on the table.
“I’ve been delaying this wedding ever since I graduated. Besides, do you really think she’ll let
what happened earlier slide so easily?”

A loud silence settles over them.

“She won’t.” Taehyung realizes in horror, whining, “That woman will break every bone in our
bodies and kill all of us before she forgives us.”

“Exactly,” Seokjin agrees as-a-matter-of-a-factly. “And that is why I can’t join that conquest
you’re all thinking about right now.”

“Just for a few bones?!” Taehyung hisses, “Coward.”

The eldest laughs softly. “If only it’s that easy, I’d let her break every bit of me. But we all know
it’d take more than that to get her back.” He stresses out, “I can’t ditch my wedding for nothing. I
can’t gamble in a losing game again.”

“Losing game?” Hoseok debates, “Why would you say such a thing?”

“Because it’s true. That’s how she saw our relationship four years ago. Hate to break it to you guys,
but this thing we have with her . . . it’s been over years ago.”

Sensing his defeat, they all grouse, “Hyung—!”

“The six of you can go convince her to choose one of you or I don’t know. It’s your call but I’m
out. Ever since the breakup, I’ve been automatically out of this. And I’ve accepted that,” he says,
getting on his feet and preparing to leave. With the determination in his eyes, no one dares to stop
him.

Before he steps out, Seokjin glances over his shoulder with watery eyes and a genuine smile. “Still,
I hope you know that the two years we had with her together were the best years of my life and I’m
thankful for everyone. Goodbye.”

A/N: Okay, that was long. And I hope you had fun knowing almost every other Bangtan’s POV.
Seriously, I knew most of you were rooting for Namjoon. Hoseok following thereafter. BUT LET
ME PRESENT TO YOU THE KIM SEOKJIN.

hahadamnit! Even tho we had to say goodbye to our groom-to-be he’s just . . . argh, i can’t even
explain it. i hope he made you feel things too because im swooning over different guys.

Not only him, but Tae and Jungkook and Jaebum too.

I’m sorry for the messy chapter filled with different POVs. Now with the break up revealed, I’m
asking you which side you’re really on.

I hope you absorb all of it in one reading tho? If not, just take your time and let it sink in before
you scroll down. It’s okay if you save the interlogue for another day—really. Think of it as another
chapter, a side-story or a bonus chapter.

Because another question I have for you is this . . . have you ever loved someone or something so
much that it just makes you hate it? Well . . . that’s exactly what this longest interlogue is about.

Here’s the other half of this 16k chapter!

PS: Congratulation to those two amazing readers who figured out that Seokjin was getting
married. you guys are so keen and sharp. i love you!!

✁----------------------------------

[INTERLOGUE]

Vindictive.

Ever since Jimin laid eyes on you again at that blind date, it’s like another realm he didn’t know of
opened.
From then on, he had one plan. And that’s to avenge him and his six other friends on the
heartbreak you gave them. With everything that he’s been through, he believed he had every right
to and so he plotted many things—how to get even and such. He loved you then yet despised you
now.

It started with your number and a little offering to bribe you with. Sex.

He knew he had to take advantage of his knowledge about you and your kinks and fetishes. He
spent years mastering that and it’d be a waste if he didn’t make use of any of it, right?

Honestly, Jimin didn’t expect it’d work. Knowing the enormous amount of pride you possessed
and with how you thoughtlessly left them, he never thought you’d actually call him for relief.

Your name flashed on his screen and it only made him snort in disbelief. You really did have the
guts to meet up with him after that lunch?

Pain. He vowed that he’d convey as much of what he felt onto you.

But the soonest you arrived at his doorstep, the instant your soft lips pressed against his, your body
desperately clinging onto his, Jimin’s defiance dropped in a trice, a punch of longing hit him in the
gut that his arms instinctively wrapped around you on its own.

It must’ve been insanity knocking on his door for his mouth to find comfort on yours as you kissed
him hungrily.

{BGM: Last Time—Anson Seabra}

Pulling away with swollen lips, he panted heavily, struggling to snap out of his sleeping desires.
“You taste like alcohol. Are you drunk?”

“You wish I was,” you said dismissively; your sassiness reminding him that all of this . . . was
just fake intimacy.

“Oh, trust me. Tonight, I’ll get you drunk . . . with my cum.”

Dirty talks. It should all be just dirty talks between you two from now on. Nothing else.

“We’ll see about that,” you challenged, the sly fox within you showing at the drop of hat that he
found it amusing.

His eyebrows lifted at your sentence; it seemed like he didn’t affect you the same way you initially
affected him. And before you know it, he’s carrying you towards his room, tossing you on the bed
and sinking his torso between your legs.

Pain. He kept that in his mind but still had the decency to notify you.

“Just let me remind you that I’m not gonna be your gentle lover, doc.” He smiled innocently; even
if he wanted to hurt you, he couldn’t help but be considerate, mindful that Bangtan had been soft all
throughout the relationship.

But you brazenly wrapped your arms around his neck without flinching. “Don’t worry. I don’t need
love. All I need is for you to fuck my brains out.”

There it was—your self-centered intention. Jimin found it despicable, how you’re letting him get
this close to you without actually considering if your actions might do him harm. But maybe you
were really that thirsty after all.

Why should he expect anything from you when it was clear how you only thought of yourself and
that breakup was enough proof?

With a smirk, Jimin kissed you and you kissed back, the both of you resolute in taking each other’s
breath away as if competing in a feisty tournament—which he vowed to win at.

Let the games begin, he chanted to himself, his determination getting the best of him.

Never again would he be weak for your touch. Never again would he be weak for your kisses.
Never again would he beg for you to stay.

***

Jimin swore that he’d never go weak for you again but here he was, staring at you who’s
innocently sleeping naked on his sheets the morning after.

It’s been an old habit that he couldn’t help but do; something about your simplicity that had him
drawn. Moving closer, he watched you, your sleeping face had always been beautiful for him that
it’s suddenly difficult not to fall back into his walking-up-beside-you routine.

Shirtless, his bottom lip was sandwiched by his teeth as he leaned closer and closer to you, dying to
kiss you on your forehead and greet you a sweet ‘good morning, my kitkat’ just like the old times
when your eyes slowly peeled open.

Alarmed, he quickly reached out for his phone on the head board instead, brushing off the silly
thoughts that took over him all of a sudden and pretending like you’re just some random girl he
banged—nothing special.

“Are you awake?” Jimin asked, jumping out of the bed to put on a decent shirt. “Just lock the door
when you leave. I got an early meeting.”

Fixated on leaving immediately just so you wouldn’t see the blush on his cheeks, he grabbed his
car keys and left. He wasn’t aware that his plans would be this hard to achieve.

The instant he stepped outside, a sigh of relief escaped him. Sure, he managed to not cuddle with
you but the main question was . . . until when?

That moment, he doubted if he could pull off the revenge he’s schemed. Maybe it’s best that he
shouldn’t? Perhaps he should just stop at this and let this be the last time he’d have you?

Last night was just about your relief, he reminded himself, opposing the sad truth that he still had a
soft spot for you and it’s hindering the things he wanted to happen.

***

It took him three days to fold, dialing your number after his monologue debates. In the end,
missing you outweighed his resolve. It was stupid but the urge just kept poking at him.

“Could you see me tonight?”

“What for?” you replied.

“I need you,” he blurted out, gulping down at his honesty, following a sly bluff, “If you know what
I mean.”
It was supposed to be just for one night but he had to try his luck, though he didn’t have his hopes
too high. It’s not like this would be a regular thing. You wouldn’t possibly let that happen, would
you?

“No, Jimin. I don’t know what you mean. Bye.”

Your rejection felt like a prick of a needle, but even though he expected it already, he still argued,
“Hey, I gave you relief a week ago! It’s only right you return the favor.”

Nevertheless, you still hung up on him, confirming that you’re not gonna let him push you over
just like that. Classic.

Jimin was ready to bid his plans goodbye when his phone vibrated.

What time, jerk.

His tongue poked his cheek at how you’re seemingly playing with fire; it kinda ticked him off, the
screws in his brain turning once again and then he’s back in the game just like that.

The soonest you’re available. Should I go to your place since I’m the one who needs
it this time?

Just like how tainted his place was with fragments of you, he wanted to taint your place too but you
gave out another flat rejection like the wily woman you always were.

He shouldn’t be missing you. It would ruin his plan. But if he’d just mull over it more carefully,
maybe it’s just the sex he’s missing. That’s what he wanted to believe at least. Just sex.

However, the second you arrived at his place, Jimin impulsively embraced you, lips latching on
yours as if it’s the drug that cured his homesickness for you.

It was ridiculous and irksome.

How could one night with you—one taste of you—make him forget what it’s like to live without
you; as if it wasn’t four long years he’s suffered?

And that made Jimin remember that he’s mad at you. He hated you. He hated this strange yet
powerful sorcery you’re using against him. He hated how it’s so unfair that with you just showing
yourself in front of him like this had his guard down without a doubt.

Fuck you, he swore with despise, recalling the pain you gave him.

Even though his mind was at war with his heart, resentment prevailed. And that’s how he ended up
displacing his frustration towards you, undressing you as he pinned you against his door.

Damn, it felt satisfying—treating you with aggressiveness, spanking your ass until it turned red,
calling you names as he played with your body; all these things he could never do to you when he
used to be your lover.

It was empowering but at the same time, Jimin was surprised. He couldn’t believe the arousal
painted on your face. Oh, the subliminal masochist within you was coming out in the open and he
never expected you to love the degradation but there you were, asking for more—like a needy,
deprived and insatiable woman you suddenly were.

It was definitely a mutual benefit.

But the plan was to have you addicted to him and leave you mercilessly thereafter. That was
revenge.

Thus, he thought that maybe if he fucked you senseless against almost every piece of furniture he
had, he’d eventually get sick of you. Then, he could proceed to the next step of turning you down
and leaving you hanging the next time you asked for relief.

One last time, he promised.

After a few more rounds of fucking, you both laid tired on the carpet floor. No cuddles. No
aftercare. Nothing.

“Now, we’re even,” you panted, eyes drifting to him.

Jimin just flashed a half-smile. “Yep.”

But it seemed like that one last time wasn’t the last time after all. Not when the helpless man inside
him couldn’t turn you down.

To say that things got out of hand was an understatement. Having you by his side just felt so
addictive that in no time, the whole ‘relieving stress’ became an endless loop, an unmanageable
bargain that neither of you knew when to call it quits again.

They said ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer’ and so the greediness within him made
him offer his place; you brazenly accepting and agreeing to be roommates as if it was such a trivial
matter.

Some days he hated you still, but there were also days where forcing himself to hate you was tiring
—just like your first night in his place.

Dropping to check if you needed anything, Jimin stopped by your door frame when he saw you fast
asleep.

He’s definitely drained from work too but he realized that what he needed the most that instant was
your body—your warmth specifically. You didn’t even have to do anything, it wasn’t even in a
sensual way. He just wanted to hug you like how that action always calmed him down back then.

He’s certain he’d fall asleep—without delay—the soonest he had you in his arms. Oh, he’d love
that but something pulled him out of his trance.

What would you think if he came for you just for a petty embrace?

Why in the world would he cuddle you? Of course, it wasn’t because he still loved you! He’s long
moved on. Maybe he’s just clingy as a person and that’s it. He would’ve probably hugged other
women if given the chance too. You’re nothing special.

But he’d stake his life on it—you wouldn’t fall for those excuses, yet funny how he couldn’t help
it. Despite knowing that you’re a shallow sleeper, he found himself slipping under your blanket and
pulling you against his body thoughtlessly.
Damn, the utmost relief he received when he inhaled your scent, plus the way you looked adorable
as he trapped you in his arms. His sleepy little spoon.

Your eyes unwilling to open, you murmured, “Jimin, I’m sleeping,” snapping him from the solace.

Needing an excuse to keep you in his arms, he proposed what you’ve always been considering
taking from him as he pulled your body closer to his chest

“Don’t you want your welcome fuck tonight?”

It was undeniably twisted, especially when he’s weary as well but he’d rather have you take him as
a thirsty somnophilic rather than a needy ex-boyfriend who still wanted you back. And it worked,
you letting him do wonders in your body.

A few days after . . .

It was when ‘Own me’ escaped from your lips that had him fueled with vigor, raw desire and
possessiveness—revenge slightly overlooked. It was his therapy, having you beg for his touch, for
his body.

After you orgasmed, he shot his load on your back and plopped down beside you, catching his
breath after another wild intercourse.

“Clean me up?” you mumbled lazily.

With a playful smile, he answered humorously, “Nah, you like it when you’re dirty and smeared
with my cum.”

You smiled back, taunting, “Asshole.”

He got on his tummy too, chin resting on his palm as he looked at you fondly, mood light and
teasing, “So are you some kind of Park Jimin’s property now? Like a pet or a—?”

“In your dreams,” you cut him off dismissively, “That’s just part of the foreplay.”

“You really sticking to the just-sex-policy?” Jimin hissed, playing with your hair. “And you want
me to ignore your little slip of tongue?”

“Slip of tongue?” you taunted sassily, “I say what you want to hear because that’s your kink. You
get off with ownership and you love it the most when I submit to you. That’s plain simple.”

Snorting at your explanation, he waged another cocky debate, “But admit it, I satisfy your needs
better than anyone else, right?”

“Don’t be too full of yourself, Park.”

Apparently, it’d kill you to agree, thus, resulting for you to banter about insignificant stuff like him
being a playboy.

Lifting an eyebrow, Jimin snorted again. “Coming from you? The most lowkey jealous woman in
the universe, doc?”

With closed eyes ready to nap, you groaned inwardly, “That was way back when I was yours. Not
anymore, Park. Not anymore.”

Your lips curved in a smile, a smile like you’re happy right to the soul—as if there’s no part of you
stained with sadness, no any damages of any kind.

And that sight put him in place.

He would’ve carried you to the bathroom to clean you up but you were right. You’re not his
anymore.

Somehow it made him feel stupid and blue knowing that all you ever took him for was probably
just plain relief. It sucks how you used to be the first person he ran to whenever he’s down but he
couldn’t run to you anymore because now . . . you’re the main reason why he’s sad.

***

Jimin was resolute in bringing you hell but ever since you moved in with him, he couldn’t even
bring himself to start a conversation without feeling tense. Damn, having you close quarters was
suddenly working to his disadvantage. It kept taking him back to those happy days you shared
together, making him put his defenses up.

A couple of days went by. Though he was casual, he avoided talking to you as much as possible,
feigning disinterest and masking the fear he felt. Fear of getting used to having you in his life
again.

{BGM: Tell Me That You Love Me—James Smith}

Missing the old you with the old him along with the other six was one of the hardest things he had
to deal with every day.

He wanted to say he misses you but it wouldn’t change anything so he kept pretending that he
didn’t even though it was a different kind of loneliness to stay in the same place with you and
realize that tons of things changed.

No more warm morning greetings. No more late night talks about how your day went. No more
silly dancing in front of the kitchen sink as you washed dishes together. No more perfect dates.

Aside from that, just catching a glimpse of you feeling at home was another challenge for him.
With how much of a tease you were, wearing flimsy lingerie as you loitered around his place had
him on the edge.

He wanted to hate you but your naughtiness always drew him like a moth to a flame. Bit by bit, it’s
as if his boat was sinking—just your mere presence had him handicapped that every time he saw
you, he let himself hate you. He must . . . or else it’d cost him another heartbreak with one wrong
move.

In the haze of another afternoon, he came across a happily-eating-a-pizza-you in the living room.
All you did was work on your laptop with an innocent smile but it was enough to piss him off.

Why?

Because Jimin would sell his soul just to be as happy and unbothered as you. If that’s envy, he
didn’t give a fuck. It was what he genuinely felt on the inside.

***

It’s been two weeks since you started living together. Two weeks of him purposely avoiding
domestic interactions and such. But that night, it’s as if he sensed how stressed and drained you
were at your new hospital that he suddenly turned to you with a sigh.

“Wanna hangout tonight?”

Jimin broke the ice, reaching out to you like a friend before he could even realize it.

You smiled at him, a tinge of gratefulness at his invite and then you two were on the way to enjoy
a night at the bar; a billiard table alluring you to play.

“Show off,” you muttered, unimpressed. But a few minutes later, you found yourself defeated
while Jimin’s tinkling bell laugh emerged.

It’s been years since you hanged out together like this. Somehow, it brought back the old times, the
fun moments you shared, the playful banters, the humorous jokes, the friendly competition.

Comfortably swinging an arm around you, Jimin feigned sympathy. “Nice try,” he teased and
despite you rolling your eyes at him in return, you hid a smile.

A smile so perfect, it’s as if you’d never leave his side.

To him, you always looked the prettiest when you’re happy. If he could freeze that moment, he
would but he looked away instead, knowing that it’s his weakness.

Out of the blue, you tossed a candy in your mouth.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Candy. Want some?”

There it was again—your damn innocent smile flashing at him.

Jimin, don’t get fooled, he told himself, building his walls again. He pulled himself together,
reminded that once upon a time, that smile of yours already fooled him and shattered his heart as a
result.

Forcing a grin, Jimin said, “Sure. What flavor?”

“Lemon fl—”

That word had you automatically halting and Jimin couldn’t hide the sadness on his face.

Lemons. That damned word enough proof that you really chose yourself over them. It’s still painful
to hear it from your lips; it had him feeling like the night of your breakup all over again.

But Jimin didn’t want you to see through him. Instead of entertaining the ache he’s feeling, he
decided to throw a curveball.

“I want one.”

“Okay, lemme get—”

“No. I want the one in your mouth,” he said.

Kissing you would be a much better way to veil his pain. He’d rather drown you with his kisses
that let his lips ask that question you never answered. Why did you leave?
Instead of feeding that curiosity, his hands wrapped around your waist as an alternative, his sneaky
tongue entering your mouth as he stole the candy from you to keep his emotions at bay.

“Guess lemons taste good in the end,” he commented while you’re completely caught off guard by
what he did.

“I, uhm lost. Lemme get us a drink,” you stammered, averting your gaze with a blush before you
headed to the bar counter.

A soft giggle involuntarily escaped him, his thumb brushing his bottom lip as his gaze followed
you. You looked cute when flustered as—

His eyes darkened when he saw a man approach you. What surprised him more was you actually
conversing with the stranger, a look of fascination in your eyes as you whispered whatever shit it
was.

After that breathtaking kiss, you dared flirt with someone else in his presence? Wow. Heartless.

Tongue poking the inside of his cheek, Jimin’s blood boiled at the scene—jealousy was indeed
poisonous. He hated it; how invincible you seemed.

The more Jimin dwelled on the fact—that between you, he was the only one vulnerable—the more
vindication harked back to him.

Wanting you to be miserable too, he shifted his attention to the lady that’s been eyeing him ever
since he arrived. And by the time you got back from the counter, he had this woman by his side,
teaching her how to play pool and ignoring you all night—even leaving without saying goodbye.
Yes, that’s how annoyed he was.

The instant they left the bar, he bid the lady a goodnight and went home separately.

What bothered him further was how you stayed in the bar thereafter. He’s been waiting for you all
night, but apparently, you’re having your own fun at the bar with his friends and that felt like
another jab in his ribs.

***

Jimin swore that’d be the last time he’d feel jealous but again, maybe the last time wasn’t the last
time after all—especially when he had to go back home due to a cancelled appointment only to
walk inside his own place with Im Jaebum topless and cooking breakfast for you who’s laying
asleep like a fucking honeymoon present on his couch.

{BGM: Jealous—Nick Jonas}

Your innocence contrasted how seductive you appeared, loose shirt hunched up showing some
skin, your thighs on full display. And as he held his gaze too long, he figured you weren’t even
wearing any bra; the sly fox within you oozing from inside out.

For fucksake, what was he supposed to think?

Before he knew it, his hands crumpled into fists but he had to get his act together if he didn’t want
to embarrass himself in the presence of this shirtless jerk. Whooshing past the intruder, Jimin
perched on the dining chair to have his morning coffee as if he’s not one bit bothered by the setup
when in reality. . . he hated Jaebum with a huge passion, his presence buzzing around like a fly that
Jimin couldn’t swat.
A few dialogues were exchanged before Jaebum was scrambling to leave, claiming that you guys
‘overslept’ and whatever. Heading towards the door, he even glanced over his shoulder with a
cocky smirk, dropping a TMI to piss Jimin off.

“Oh and please tell granny to keep my shirt. It suits her better anyway.”

Sharp eyes darting at the intruder, Jimin held his breath behind pursed lips, steeling himself from
throwing a punch. He didn’t even know what the punch was for, it’s just his petty possessiveness
whispering into his thoughts.

The soonest your visitor left, he heaved an exasperated exhale, shifting his angry gaze back to you.
There you were—obviously faking sleep, your body still splayed carelessly, leaving nothing to the
imagination.

Betrayed. That was what he felt instantly. He’s letting you stay in his place and you had the
audacity to invite that man and fuck around without even telling him beforehand.

That man. The leader of GOT7, once the rival band of Bangtan.

You knew how much he hated him. In fact, all seven of them hated the other band without
reservations to the point that they even played basketball against them just to redeem you.

Have you stupidly forgotten how mad they were when you chose GOT7 over them? It was pathetic
but they’ve been jealous ever since and you dared bringing that man right in front of him again?

Just the thought of it made the jealousy and anger from way back creep up on him. It was a sore
spot that wouldn’t go away, especially not right now after what he’s witnessed.

You weren’t his at the moment, Jimin had no right to be jealous but having you fool around with a
man that had history against Bangtan was below the belt and straight up disrespectful.

Did you choose GOT7 over them because you’ve been secretly pining for this man even way
before you were theirs? Doubts started clouding his mind. Were you cheating on them way before?
Did you break up with them just so you could fool around him?

You wouldn’t, he countered his own thoughts, knowing that none of those things made sense. But
jealousy never really made sense at all. Despite trying to calm himself, his anger wouldn’t go
away.

It seemed like you must’ve liked Jaebum back then.

Keeping the glare in his eyes, he walked towards you, trying to put all the crap behind him and de-
stress; something inside him wanting to teach you a lesson, thus making him carry you all the way
to your bed.

Competitive, he was determined to fuck you better—in every way possible, wanting to covet your
body and show you who you truly belonged to. Wicked, he fucked your ass hard both as
punishment and reward, knowing that the filthy-you loved being used liked that. And then he was
purposely neglecting your pussy, edging you torturously slow until you come clean about your
affairs only to hear you deny that you’re screwing around with that guy.

“He’s just a friend.”

Jimin knew you like the back of his hand; you weren’t lying but a needy part of him wanted to
prolong the argument just to hear you reassure him that he wasn’t gonna be replaced by some tall
shirtless guy.

“Didn’t Bangtan used to be just your friends too?” he taunted casually.

You let out a sarcastic exhale. “Jimin, you were my boyfriends that’s—”

He didn’t like the sound of you using the past tense because it reminded him of the sad fact that
you’re long over. “Ex-boyfriends!” he gritted in vexation as he stared at you with eyes suddenly
filled with resentment. “Because you left.”

“Jimin, please.”

He swallowed thickly. Yes, that’s always been the magic word; he vowed to have you beg but this
wasn’t the kind of begging he wanted from you.

The old Jimin would’ve given you anything you asked for but sadly, his vindication kept getting in
the way.

“Not today, kitten,” Jimin murmured aloofly, giving your lips a peck because . . . come to think of
it, even his own self was surprised at his own actions. He was mad but he still couldn’t resist to
reward you whenever you said ‘please’.

What a pitiful unfortunate man. Even by just having this talk with you had him tormented—his
emotions unruly scattered everywhere.

“I have every intention of punishing you, little bitch. This is my place. I get to bring the women I
want,” he spewed, unloading his wrath and frustration. “Let your men bring you in their own shitty
place, not here.”

And then in a blink of an eye, he slammed the door and left, enraged at himself because he
couldn’t understand his own feelings.

Why was he angry when there’s nothing romantic between you two? That thought had him
wincing, cussing at himself for being too obvious. The plan was to show you that he no longer
cares about you but he kept messing up.

Stupid Jimin! He raked his fingers through his hair when suddenly, there was a knock on his door,
alarming him to straighten up. Shit, you must’ve seen through him and pitied him.

“Jimin, I really didn’t mean to—”

“Are you here to apologize?” he barked, wanting to turn things around with another facade.

The second you nodded, he stepped closer to you, sharp eyes meeting your gaze. “Then you’re
apologizing for nothing. Let me get this straight. I just wanted to punish you and not let you come.
D’you really think that Jaebum guy bothers me?”

Remaining silent, your eyes dropped to the ground. You, too, knew him so well. But he had to deny
it, taking back his previous obviously jealous words.

“Sorry if I got your hopes up. Too bad I don’t care if you whore around or bring guys in my place.”

He then dove on the bed, grabbing his sleeping eye mask and putting it over his eyes, too
embarrassed at how he blabbed and talked too much and wishing that you wouldn’t call out his
bluffs.
 ***

A few days later, it’s your birthday and Jimin asked for your keys the night before only because . . .
he wanted to surprise you.

After fixing his work schedule and finishing his tasks before deadline just to make time for this, he
reserved the building’s rooftop for twenty-four hours, even asking the management to have your
favorite potted flowers delivered up there. By the time he went there, it’s already like a magical
garden lit up with thousands of colorful lights—the city lights visible from there.

The view was breathtaking; the old you would’ve loved it.

Then and there, it had him thinking about silly ideas; like maybe if you’d love his surprise so much
you’d suddenly say those three words he’s been desperate to hear again.

He shook his head, knowing how far-fetched that illusion was. And then there was a tense feeling
he couldn’t shake off.

Why was he putting on this much effort and going through a lot of ruckus? If not for your ‘I love
you’ then what for?

Jimin let out a soft chuckle. For your smile, he answered himself. That beautiful, genuine—

Immediately, thoughts of you sleeping with Jaebum—with that fucking smile he loved—entered
his mind; a dagger piercing through his core. And then it hit him; even if you didn’t sleep with that
man, why should he carry out a lame surprise for you?

He already lost you and it’s not like you’d take him back again. You had him when he was
the best version of himself—understanding, caring, loving—but you left. Nothing’s gonna change
that. So what’s the point in all of this?

Conflicted, Jimin left, heading to the bar alone to drink despite half of him longing to be with you.
He couldn’t understand what he’s feeling.

Falling. He kept on falling for you in spite of the many times he’s told himself not to. It’s the
hardest thing to do, trying to find a way to be un-inlove with you.

Sighing deeply, he downed another bottle.

What would it take for you to take him back? Or if that’s too much of a favor, couldn’t you
just pretend to at least love him again?

Drinking another bottle, he slapped his cheek, wanting to wake himself up.

How could he move on from something that he’s still waiting to come back? It was absurd.

Stop thinking about her! Besides, birthdays weren’t special anymore. You forgot his; he should’ve
forgotten yours too—just to be fair.

And that’s when a lady approached him, finding it cute how he’s apparently in two minds.

“What’s bothering you, handsome?

Her question had Jimin answering and in a flash, they started debating whether he should run back
and surprise you or just stay there and get drunk with her.
A few set of flicks-on-the-forehead-game and plentiful glasses of alcohol had him dizzy yet one
thing remained in his thoughts—he knew you hated being alone.

God knew how much Jimin wanted to be there for you but it didn’t matter how much he still
valued you. It’s too late. It wouldn’t bring back the relationship. You wouldn’t love him back
anyway and his wounds were still too deep.

In addition to that, he couldn’t forgive someone who never even apologized.

So instead of kissing you a happy birthday, he was too drunk, kissing a stranger until he forgot
about you.

The next day . . .

Seeing the sadness in your eyes, Jimin pulled you in an intimate back hug; his chin gently pressed
above your shoulder. “Why do you look sad? Do you have something to say?”

He felt guilty for what happened last night, a part of him hating himself for letting your day pass by
just like that but he couldn’t bring himself to notify you about the rooftop.

“Do you want me to fuck you, birthday girl?” he stupidly muttered instead.

“I-it’s not my birthday anymore, Jimin.”

A piece of him dying inside at the disappointment attached in your tone, it only made him feel
worse. What else could he even present to you now?

And that’s when he remembered buying a toy for you a few weeks ago, hoping it could be of help.

“Okay, then maybe I should just fuck you as an apology?”

That afternoon, Jimin worshipped you until the sun bid the sky goodbye, the moon reigning over
thereafter.

Both of you lost count on how many times you’ve come and that’s when your alarm interrupted.
You’re trying to leave the bed when Jimin muttered, “Let me please you all night.”

“I can’t. I have to go to work.”

But Jimin was determined to make it up for you. “Don’t leave, kitten,” he whined in a pout.

Kitten. Every time he called you that something inside him became terrified. It’s slipping from his
mouth by habit and you responding made him miss those days he used to freely call you that with
admiration.

“Park, get off me. I can’t be late.”

When you exerted yourself to move away, Jimin hugged your hips, arguing like a little kid. He still
had a few hours left before his reservation expires; maybe he could persuade you to stay.

“Please?”

It’s the first time he begged again and after everything he went through, Jimin never thought he’d
ask you that for a second time. For him, it felt like going out of his way—just like how he did that
night you broke up with him.
In the few seconds of your hesitation, he peered up at you; his eyes filled with wistfulness that
maybe this time . . . you’d actually pick him, hug him back and prioritize him even just this once.

On pins and needles, he waited for your reaction only to receive a sigh from you as you averted
your eyes.

Fuck, Jimin knew what that meant. Another rejection. Another failed celebration surprise.

Who was he kidding? How stupid was he to actually think that you’d consider staying with him
when you already had the orgasm you needed?

“Jimin. You know I—”

Snapped out from the reverie that you still valued him, he rolled out of bed, his deep old wound
reopened and bleeding once again.

Pity that no matter how many times he made you feel good, you’d never want to be with him again
—not in the way he wanted to.

For you, it was really just the sex and it was truly upsetting because deep down he still loved you;
he’d still do anything for you but clearly . . . that wasn’t the case for you. Therefore, he needed to
get over his inferiority complex.

“Fine. Forget about it.”

Slamming the door, he left. And to save face and show you that you weren’t valuable to him as
well, he called the woman who happened to stay in the same building floor as him. That woman
whom he had a drink with last night.

It was stupid but he wanted you to hear that he’s having fun without you. That you didn’t matter to
him just like how he didn’t matter to you.

With the anger fueling him again at how you never really opted to stay, tonight, he should shove it
in your face too.

He didn’t need you.

Hearing the main door shutting close, he knew you left; just like how you deserted them years ago.
Ah, the familiar pain striking through his heart once more. A part of him hated you again yet he
couldn’t help but check if you really went to work despite his plea.

The instant he stepped out of his room, you were nowhere to be found. However, he saw Calico on
the floor instead. In a flash, he picked it up and wiped it clean; the woman suddenly draping her
arms around his torso.

“What’s taking you so long?”

With eyes darkening, he darted his glare at her. “Did you play with this?” he gritted through his
teeth.

“Oh yeah. I saw it on the tabletop. It was cute.”

Jimin tried to calm down with a sigh. “Then why was it on the floor?”

She giggled in response, hand slyly crawling down to his crotch. “I guess I dropped it when I got
too excited about being invited to your room.”
Instantly, he grabbed her wrist firmly—so firm that the woman began to wince.

“Jimin—!”

He feigned a smile. “Never lay your filthy hands on this keychain ever again. Do you understand?”

Gulping down, she nodded, taken aback by his sudden strictness but she was too stupid and horny
to understand the situation. “Am I in trouble? Will I be punished, sir?”

Letting out a sarcastic snort, Jimin hissed. “In trouble? Yeah sure. Go wait for me in my bed, you
bitch.”

The next morning . . .

When you arrived at home after your night shift, Jimin went stiff again, the vexation from last
night coming back to him which made him provoke you, flirting purposely with the woman he
brought.

“Oh, that’s my roommate.”

You halted.

“Hi, roommate!” the woman chirped and when you returned her greeting with a fake smile, she
smirked.

“Unnie, I thought you said he won’t remember me?” she taunted; Jimin unsure what she was
talking about, but whatever that was, it seemed to be pissing you off—which was what he wanted.

“Guess he does,” you replied casually. Of course, you wouldn’t back down. You’re the feistiest
woman he’s ever met. “Every easy woman he brings at home does look the same anyway. So who
cares?”

Who cares?

So it seemed that you’re never really bothered about him having other women and that got on his
nerves again. How could you do this so flawlessly? How could you be so chill about it when he
almost lost his sanity seeing you with Jaebum? Did you really have a fucking heart of steel?

“Don’t mind her, kitten. My roommate’s just a little grumpy because she’s tired from work,” Jimin
prodded, wishing it’d affect you.

And when the woman left his place, he was surprised at how you sauntered back into the kitchen
with him, eyes throwing death glares; a sliver of hope shining down on him.

Were you perhaps . . . jealous?

“So you let her call you ‘oppa’ too?”

The sarcasm in your tone was music to his ears; he always found it endearing when you’re
possessive even way back then.

“Sometimes,” he lied, infuriating you further.

Put out, you quickly grabbed your bag and coat that caught him off guard but he had to stay calm.
He shouldn’t show his anxiety.
“Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving.”

That’s it. A subtle sign of your defeat.

“You just got home and now you’re leaving? Why so soon?”

If only you could be more vocal about it, he’d be glad to talk things out but . . . you seemed so riled
up, desperate to leave him again.

“Living with you is a big mistake!”

“Why? Why is it a mistake?” he prompted, hoping you’d get how he’s initiating to talk.

At the back of his mind, he knew you loved him; but he didn’t always know it. He needed you to
confess.

His fingers unnoticeably crossed, as he prayed. Please say that it’s because you still love me.
Please tell me that you’re hurting because you haven’t moved on.

“Because you’re a fucking jerk!”

Your tone had his face twisting in displeasure. That wasn’t the answer he was looking for.

Who was he kidding? You wouldn’t give in that easily. You’re full of your damn pride as always
but he was determined to drag those words from your mouth.

“Jerk? For what?”

“I don’t know! Why don’t you go ask your ‘new kitten’ about it?” you spat thoughtlessly, your
hand reaching for the door but Jimin—exhilarated with how your frustration was showing—was
quick enough to stride and stop it from opening.

“Oh c’mon! Don’t tell me you’re jealous, doc?” He smirked, driving you up the wall and wanting
to break your stupid walls of obstinacy.

Say yes. Please say yes.

But his heart broke when your eyes turned into slits instead. “I’m fucking not!”

Disappointed and hurt—that’s what Jimin felt.

You’re acting all jealous yet you wouldn’t even admit it. How long would you play games with
him? It’s driving him mad to guess what the hell you’re feeling. It’s frustrating even—to be in love
with a fuck buddy who kept acting detached all the time. You could’ve just fucking swallowed
your pride and said that you’re hurting. But no, you chose to shove it in his face that you’re not
backing down for this argument.

Stop being so in love with her, he argued with himself. You don’t love her.

Fed up, Jimin snapped, gnashing his teeth. “Then fucking stop whining like you are!” He scowled
at you, fixated at making you regret ever being this stubborn.

You started this argument, you wanted it the hard way.

“You shouldn’t even be jealous of her cause she’s not even half the slut you are. That bitch
couldn’t take my cock the whole night.”

Your eyes became glassy but it’s too late; he’s already convinced himself that he didn’t love you
anymore. Not even your tears could stop him now because he’s suddenly so numb—his heart no
longer aching.

Feeling powerful at how you’re shedding tears, a few more disrespectful dialogues were
exchanged between you.

“You’re horrible!” you cried.

Yes, horrible. That was exactly what he was aiming to be.

If you weren’t willing to fix it back then, and you’re obviously not willing to fix it right now then
perhaps he might as well just fuck it and be the worst asshole in your life. It’d be more reasonable
anyway. At least, if you’d turned your back on him again, he wouldn’t be so clueless why; unlike
how you left someone who did nothing wrong but want to be with you years ago.

“Stop calling me kitten.”

“So you want another nickname then? Want me to change yours to pussy or cockslut or—?”

Slap! Your palm hit his cheek but that only sparked more of his anger.

He was sick of all your shit. Why were you always so damn hard to get? Couldn’t you just let your
guards down and ask him what he’s really feeling for once? Couldn’t you see how much he’s still
hurting too because of how you broke up with them? Why were you always so self-centered?

Throwing sharp words, Jimin pointed out your flaws, hurling anything that could hurt you just as
much as how you hurt him. He was splattering nonsense, but he couldn’t stop his mouth. He’s
desperate.

Anger never helped. Anger made him say stupid things.

“Now what?” he stressed, shaking his head in disbelief, “You cry when I call someone else
‘kitten’?! As if that word only belongs to you?! You’re not even my girlfriend.”

That moment, he knew he crossed the line but hate was too heavy, he had to release it—sooner or
later.

“You’re selfish! I hope you fucking know that,” Jimin roared.

Just as predicted, you stormed off, and then he crumbled down all at once. How could it backfire
into this? It wasn’t what he wanted to happen but his emotions were so hard to control when all he
could think of was how he gave you his best all throughout the past relationship, only for you to
pay him back by severing ties.

It was futile.

Raking his fingers through his hair, he huffed, sarcastically laughing at how stupid he was.
Everything was in shambles that all he could do was hoot at his lies.

Of course, the bitch couldn’t take his cock the whole night. How could she . . . when he never gave
it to her in the first place?
 Kissing someone else felt disgusting for Jimin. He hated it but forced himself anyway,
making efforts to get over you. He didn’t want you to be special anymore and for that .
..

“Kitten,” he called her, over and over, wishing that his feelings for you whenever he
said that word would disappear because undeniably, his love returned every time he
called you that and he hated it even more, insisting that it’s just a word.

The woman was now naked but Jimin only pushed her to his bed, deadpan.

“Touch yourself for me instead,” he demanded, tasting defeat while she obeyed him,
clueless that the truth was . . . he just couldn’t fuck her.

And it only made him angrier, realizing that no matter how much he forced himself to
someone else. It was useless.

“Kitten,” Jimin repeated but his feelings for you didn’t vanish, in fact, it only
aggravated.

Calling someone else kitten felt wrong and now, he’s more certain that his heart was
yours. He’s growing weak every second knowing that he belonged to you despite
denying it.

But what’s the point of being yours if you didn’t want to be his again?

He shouldn’t love you anymore. He didn’t love you anymore. Those were the repetitive things he
held on all throughout your argument which he apparently won the instant you left his place. Now,
the next challenge was for him to continue believing that crap.

***

That night after, the woman dropped by his place once again. Despite Jimin not being in the mood,
he let her talk and talk, keeping him company while he silently drank his liquor. It’s only when she
brought up a certain event she’d attend next week that had his ears perked up.

“My friend is marrying the Kim Seokjin. Do you know that guy? I think he went to the same
university as you and he’s filthy rich.”

The news definitely took him aback. Seokjin getting married? How could he not be informed?

Without second thought, he called the eldest after the woman left.

“It’s not a big deal. People get married all the time,” Seokjin jested on the other line, earning a
scoff from Jimin.

“Yeah. But still, we’re like brothers,” Jimin retorted. “You should’ve told us. Wait . . . Are we
even invited?”

That question had the other in stitches. “It’s really not an important event though.”

“Make it up to us,” the younger demanded. “Let’s meet up. Just like the old times. At my place.”

And as expected, the soon-to-be-groom agreed, knowing that he should be the one to tell the others
about his personal matters at least.
Meanwhile, after that call, the uneasy Jimin didn’t know what to do. How could Seokjin be so calm
about it? Was he really serious about getting married? Was it really over for him? If that’s the
case, good for him but . . . what about you? What about the others?

What should he do? Was he supposed to even do anything in the first place or just let it be?

He couldn’t help but be fretful. It was like you torturously slipping through his fingers all over
again.

Losing Seokjin to someone else would really mean the end of the whole polyamory relationship.
And he thought that as their ex-lover, you needed to know what you’re losing.

And so he harbored his guts despite that big argument you just had yesterday, trying his best to
contact and talk to you but you weren’t answering his messages nor were you answering his calls.

It was frustrating but nothing new. It’s not like you’re one to just meekly talk things out; you didn’t
spare them a reason years ago, what more now if you’re to be informed about a certain wedding?
Jimin was positive that you meeting up with them was like waiting for hell to freeze so he had to
think of something else.

It took another day for you to pick up, and by then, it was when he’s out with Namjoon and you
were swearing at him about this and that, provoking him to cuss back at you too.

He was luring you to go visit his place but you were obviously still mad at him. There was no
assurance that the stubborn and arrogant you would even show up, and that thought had him
furious too; resentment eating him up again.

If you’re so fine with the whole breakup and had gotten over them for real, then screw it!
Congratulations to both Seokjin and you for moving on. Might as well end the whole damn thing
with a celebration.

Women. That’s the cherry on top of every bachelor’s party and who was he to deny that for his
hyung?

To be continued.

a/n: what you gonna do now? what happens now? omg what do you guys think? the next chapter
might be longer to make. so probably a three week break after this one. :/
 oxytocin 2.0
Chapter Notes

⌦ Warnings: none; just please buckle up your seat belts because this is one hella
ride, flashbacks in flashbacks, emotional roller coaster 8/8. this chapter is not for the
fragile-hearted.

⌦ A/N: this. i don’t have any words. let’s just read this and get it over with. my only
advice is that once you click on this, stick with me until the end. cherish every
paragraph and don’t skip any parts because this chapter demands 100% focus. one
blink and u might miss it. HAPPY CHOOSEDAY. enjoy.

[FUCK] Why Oxytocin 2.0? Following Thesis It’s Oxytocin chapter . . . recent research says that
this hormone that promotes feelings of love, bonding and well-being is two-faced; also causing
emotional pain. That's because the hormone actually strengthens social memory in the
brain, reverberating long past the event triggering fear and anxiety in the future.

Will this be a happy hormone or a sad hormone?

Sneaking in to get his laptop inside his room where he insists you sleep in, Jaebum’s careful not to
wake you up but as he enters the room, he finds you wide awake, leaning on his headboard as you
—

He cocks his head, figuring out what you’re actually doing with your body curled up in a ball, eyes
idly locked on a random part of your blanket.

Clearing his throat, Jaebum speaks, “Why aren’t you sleeping? It’s half past four in the morning,
granny.”

That has you straightening up, snapping out of your lifeless trance. You look at him, attempting to
give out excuses but give up anyway. Who are you kidding, you don’t even know why you’re still
awake.

The look on your face has your friend sighing. As if having no choice, he changes his direction and
sits on the bed, leaning on the headboard with you.

“Still not feeling okay?” he asks, his hand instinctively pulling your head to lean on his shoulder.
He pats your head like how he pats Nora lovingly and even though you usually kick him when he
treats you like one of his cats, this time, you don’t have the energy for such trivial thing.

You’re just really too lonely for anything and he can feel that.

The silence is deafening, compelling Jaebum to start a conversation just to make you at least one
bit better.

“Do you see yourself growing old with one person?”

It may be out of the blue but you don’t mind—that’s how comfortable you are with him.

For a quick moment, you think about it before peering up to him. “Do you see me growing old with
one person?” you sarcastically toss back that question to him.
“No,” Jaebum hums and you lean back to his shoulder after hearing his honest answer when
suddenly his hand makes its way to pinch your nose as if suffocating you like how he always did,
teasing, “I don’t even see you passing fifty with how careless you are!”

“Ya!” you yell, hitting his arm in retaliation but he doesn’t let go until your nose is red as
Rudolph’s.

“I’m sure you’ll trip over a manhole and die an instant death,” is what he tells you when you pinch
his side as revenge; releasing your poor nose with a smirk in the end.

You stick out your tongue and slap his leg, earning a yelp from him.

“An aggressive roommate is better than a depressed roommate,” he says, tucking you into bed and
turning the lights off for you before he leaves. “Get some sleep.”

***

12nn. Standing by the stove, Jaebum is busy cooking for lunch while you’re tasked to prepare the
salad but when he turns to you, he sees you spacing out again. Not only that, he catches sight of
tears falling from your eyes—again.

It’s when you feel a heavy hand on your shoulder that makes you straighten up. “Shit, gramps. I’m
so sorry,” you squeak, wiping your eyes dry. “I don’t even know why there are tears dropping. I’m
not even that sad anymore. Swear!” You shrug, trying your best to convince him. “It just keeps
falling. I’m malfunctioning.”

“Dummy, you’re crying because it still hurts. Even kids know that.” Jaebum steps in and prepares
the salad for your stead.

With a frown, you answer, “Well, I shouldn’t be hurt because what I saw was just . . . normal. They
were men bound to be with other women.” Your gaze drops but you continue, “I should just be
thankful that I witnessed that. It only opened my eyes to—”

“Can you really live with that?” he cuts you off with an honest yet harsh question.

You ask yourself, lips quivering as you struggle not to cry. You nod your head regrettably. “It’s not
like I have a choice. Besides, I always knew what we had was a losing game.”

Heaving a loud sarcastic sigh, Jaebum taunts lightly, “Yeah, a losing game you had on pause for
years already.”

You glare at him immediately. “Stop poking fun, losing isn’t exciting.”

After eating lunch . . .

“Can you really manage being alone for a day?” Jaebum asks you again as he grabs his car keys.
“I’ll just have an eight-hour shift at—”

You dart a death glare at him. “Jaebum, I’m not a child. I’ll be fine. Stop worrying.”

That makes him chuckle. “Fine,” he says, reaching out to hug you and pressing a silly kiss on your
head. “It’ll all pass by.”

Deep inside, you wish it’ll pass by quickly too.

.
.

TWO DAYS AFTER THE PROSTI PARTY

With your ophthalmologist friend already out early for work, you’re stuck inside his place just
watching TV despite not really paying attention to any of what’s shown.

You’ve had it. Instead of sulking all day, you should just shower and pamper yourself, or do things
that’ll give back your cheerfulness.

After a long satisfying shower, the doorbell rings, making you cock your head in
confusion. Jaebum must’ve left something.

You roll your eyes, preparing a long scolding for your friend but when you open the door, a
different person greets you.

“Y-yoongi?”

His lips slam on yours without warning, his hand on your waist, the other on the back of your head
pulling you closer as if he never wants to let you go.

You’re obviously thunderstruck.

“Fuck,” he breathes, pulling away; his gaze still fixed on your lips. “This is where my lips belong.”

Snapping out, you step away from him, reprimanding, “Yoongi—!”

“Elle and I broke up a month ago. Before happy doctor’s day to be exact,” he answers as if reading
your mind.

Elle had pulled her strings, resulting in Yoongi having this piano gig at your hospital
for tomorrow’s event.

“It’s gonna be fun, honey!” she said, draping her arms around him. “Everyone’s gonna
be there too. And they’ll know that you’re my man.”

Yoongi was silent, just letting her talk and talk when she mentioned you out of the
blue.

“You know, doc has always been kind to everyone.”

It wasn’t something he fancied hearing. After all, Yoongi wasn’t a plaster saint. He
was angry at you, holding onto the grudge of you leaving him behind without
hesitation as if he meant nothing to you. Bitter was an understatement. He resented
you, reminded of how much he searched for his angel, how long he waited just to be
yours. He loved you with all his heart . . . and you left him just because you were tired
and busy. It—

“But maybe that’s because she’s making it up for being such a whore during her
university years.”
Whore. That striking word had Yoongi’s eyes sharpening. Sure, you’re not on good
terms but that didn’t mean he’d accept shit things that other people would say about
you.

Aside from that, he’s had it. Ever since you called him out for being un-him and
having ‘someone who called him boring’ as his fiancée. How could he settle for this
kind of woman?

“Let’s break up,” Yoongi urged, detaching himself from her.

“What?” Elle panicked, “What’s wrong?”

“The real question is ‘what’s right?’” Yoongi countered, determined to sever ties.
“Nothing has been right between us ever since. And we both know that.”

“W-what do you mean? No, Yoongi, aren’t we engaged?”

His lips curled in a half sarcastic smile as he got on his feet. “I just realized . . . I’m
still in love with my ex. I’m sorry for wasting your time,” he disclosed before leaving
the house for a fresh air.

He needed to think, if this was really the right option for him. A few hours after,
Yoongi went back to their place and before Elle could talk, he beat her to it, “I’ll move
out of the house by the end of this week. That’ll give me time to look for another place
to stay.”

But Elle was resolute to make him stay. And so the next day, in the hospital’s event,
she wouldn’t stop clinging onto Yoongi even while he played the piano. She kept
persuading him to talk things out and fix things but Yoongi wouldn’t budge. In the
end, Elle got drunk at the party and you’re kind enough to drop her home that night.

The morning after . . .

“How did I get home?” Elle grumbled, head still spinning with a hangover while
Yoongi just sighed, cooking her soup. It’s the least he could do.

“I guess you don’t remember being a big nuisance to your colleague,” he muttered,
stoic, “Doc brought you home.”

Her eyes widened. “She did that?” she squeaked. “Damn, I thought she’d get drunk
before I did. I guess she really is a strong drinker after all. No wonder every guy at
work is drooling over her. She always has a way with men.”

Her nonsensical remark had Yoongi’s face twisting in annoyance. “What do you even
mean, Elle? What’s your point? She’s already kind enough to put up with your drunk
ass,” he lectured.

She stood up, strolling towards the kitchen. “What I’m saying is how people usually
describe her. She’s kind but a total flirt. D’you even see her with Jaebum-sunbae?
She’s a total player underneath that angelic front. I’m jealous.”

His jaws clenched when reminded of Jaebum. “Elle, stop saying mean and wrong
things about people.”

“Wrong?” She cocked her head. “What do you mean wrong? It’s true, hon!” She
insisted on using their pet name as if Yoongi didn’t break up with her yesterday. “A
friend of mine used to go to the same university as her. And she always vouched how
doc had been into numerous shameful affairs. Rumors have been widespread about
her.”

Straightening up, Yoongi’s body went stiff, vexation emanating from his aura.
“Rumors?”

“Yeah. Like how she’s a two-timing bitch who’s been playing with her hoobae’s
hearts, juggling it and acting all innocent?” Elle enumerated as she slurped her soup,
“They say she had a thing for younger boys. Some say she likes alternating men every
other day. Some say she’s forcing herself to a chaebol senior or was it someone from
the basketball team? Others say she’s seducing someone from the student council
despite being in a relationship with a best friend already. A few claim she’s
monopolizing a top university band or was that two bands?”

Yoongi’s jaws unintentionally dropped—not because of shock but how pathetic these
rumors were.

“And you believe them?” he taunted. “You’re not even from that school. You don’t
even know her.”

“Of course not. I don’t believe rumors,” she defended, “I believe a friend’s word
though. And fyi, that friend went to the same university—a cheerleader even. So
there’s no doubt, it’s true. She even told me about a valentine story.”

FEBRUARY 13TH | your first pre-valentine’s day as BTS’ girlfriend

As soon as the class ended, Namjoon and Hoseok were both waiting for you.

“Uhm, well . . . you guys go ahead. I have to help out Nabi with her presentation,” you
grinned, shoving your notebooks inside your bag.

“So you’re not gonna open the café this evening, sleepyhead?”

“Nope. You guys can take a break and rest at home.”

You bid them a ‘see you later’ before skipping your way out of the room and the
soonest they left, you head straight to the café on your own. Not for business hours but
for something more special—baking your boyfriends’ valentine gift.

You’ve seen your mom bake before. It shouldn’t be that hard but . . . perhaps you
miscalculated. Your skills weren’t as great as hers, hence, making you stay at the café
a little longer than planned; your phone already vibrating from a call.

Answering it, you sandwiched your phone between your shoulder and ear, both hands
still too busy baking.

“Cupcake, what time will you go home?”

The clingy Seokjin on the other line sounded worried so you had to make up more
excuses or he’d figure it out. “I’m sorry, but Nabi asked me to stay for the night. See
you guys tomorrow. I love you.”

Quickly, you hung up, avoiding more questions from them. Your mind glued on one
goal but it ended up with you baking overnight due to your desire of going all out in
decorating the whole cake.

You’re exhausted but it was worth it; the smiles on their faces had been your
inspiration. And as you woke up the next day, it’s already Valentine’s day. You
excitedly put it in a box, wrapping it like the sweetest present ever.

Careful, you sneaked it inside the campus, even making efforts to request a cafeteria
staff to let the cake be hidden in the refrigerator until the day ended, thinking that it’d
be a good idea to save the surprise for later—especially when Bangtan had always
been popular with the girls. You opted to be the last one to give your valentine gift for
them.

But just before the meetup time, when you dropped by the cafeteria to get your cake,
the cafeteria lady greeted you with a beam.

“What a sweet lady! You baked that for your special someone, didn’t you?”

Bashful, you could only nod.

“It looks delicious! You must be a pro at baking?”

“Uhm, no no. I just had to keep retrying until dawn,” you answered shyly, the both of
you laughing in the end.

The cafeteria lady left to clean other areas when you noticed a cheerleader captain and
her eyes on you.

“Who’s that for, slut?” she sneered with arms folded over her chest.

Deadpan, you walked past her and headed straight to the fridge, not into picking fights
with low-class people like her. It’s just not worth your time.

When you held the box on your hands, she suddenly pulled your shoulder forcefully,
demanding your attention. You gasped, the cake you worked hard for slipped from
your hands, laying spoil on the floor. You crouched down immediately, checking if it
could still be saved but it was no use.

The girl didn’t even look one bit sorry for what she did and instead had the nerve to
threaten you, “If you lay your filthy hands on our Min Yoongi, there’ll be more of
your things ruined. That won’t even compare to when the seniors would slit your
throat if you don’t stop clinging onto Kim Seokjin, you minx.”

You’re exerting yourself to stay grounded, keeping in mind that nothing good will
result in you fighting back.

“Stop feeding Bangtan crap. They’ll never be yours; they’re ours! They belong to the
university,” she added before leaving.

***

“You see. Doc had a lot of haters in the campus. And my cheerleader friend told me
how she bravely put up with her, avenging all the other girls,” Elle commented after
narrating a random story she heard from her friend. “Though that’s obviously pretty
childish to do. I don’t get why they had to ruin the cake.”
The instant Yoongi heard how that cheerleader treated you—which they never found
out, it hit him. How much they failed to protect you.

He left, heading to the stream you usually visited together. He wanted to reminisce, to
recall—all those times that they may have failed to see how you’re being pulled down
by the relationship due to their obliviousness.

More fragments of memories aroused within him; like that one time where he saw you
surrounded by a group of girls in one corner but they all scattered when he walked to
where you were.

Back then he sensed something off but when he asked you who they were, you just
smiled at him, saying, ‘They’re Jungkook’s fans asking when your next gig at the café
would be.’

The smile on your face was so convincing that he overlooked his gut feeling.

It didn’t end there; another incident flashing in his mind. It was the afternoon of pre-
Halloween . . . the very last one before the breakup.

As tradition, the both of you went to the costume shop to pick everyone’s outfits that
night. You agreed to go with Snow white and seven dwarfs this year, Yoongi was even
joking around how Jimin would be flustered to be a dwarf.

But before you could pay the cashier, he excused himself to answer their manager’s
call outside and realized that he came across a familiar cheerleader with her friends
who smiled and greeted him with a nod.

The call lasted longer than expected, and by then, you’d already stepped out of the
shop with a few bags in your hands.

“All done?” he asked and you smiled, heading to the car.

By the time the seven of them were wearing their costumes and ready to go conquer
the haunted house for the fireworks ritual, you came out of the room wearing your
med school uniform and white coat which had them confused.

“Why aren’t you dressed up as Snow White?” Taehyung questioned, pouting.

You grinned apologetically. “Wardrobe malfunction. I should’ve double checked

before buying.”

Scanning your supposedly dress, Namjoon and Hoseok held it up high and everyone
saw how a portion of the sleeves and even the hem of the skirt had been cut, the zipper
on the back was jammed too.

They sighed in defeat and you only encouraged them with your sweetness. “Don’t you
like my costume? A few years from now, I’ll really be everyone’s doctor. I think that’s
better than Snow White, you know. Doc and her seven dwarfs.”

In no time, they’re all convinced, the eight of you merrily enjoying Halloween as
always.

{BGM: Let Me Down Slow—New Hope Club}

 Yoongi’s hands turned into fist. How stupid was he to forget that that cheerleader
owned that costume shop? It’s not impossible that she might’ve been the reason why
your dress got ruined. Fuck!

He couldn’t help but hate himself for letting those little things slide. Why didn’t he
realize that you must’ve been hiding things from them? There must’ve been gossips
which Bangtan never knew because you prevented them from knowing.

Now he understood why you’re always too guarded with displaying affections at
school. You must’ve wanted to protect them and their images when they were too
naive to even think about it. It must’ve been a heavy burden you’ve been carrying
alone.

After finding out all of that, how could he ever show his face to you when he even had
mistakenly brought up you and shit things about percent that night you left your phone
in their place?

PRESENT

You look at him with confusion, overwhelmed by the idea of Yoongi being single that long. Partly,
you’re relieved that he’s free from an impostor but before you can even react, he’s pulling you in
another tight embrace.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps, his head chin pressed on your shoulder. “I’m sorry for being careless and
stupid. I’m sorry for being a jerk and saying that I’d rather take twenty percent of something like
you than the hundred percent real you divided into seven portions.”

You don’t know where he’s coming from but suddenly you’re transported to that night he shoved
that fact onto your face. Oh, did that hurt. And you hate how he’s now speaking to your heart,
drawing tears to pool in your eyes.

“Sharing you never bothered me,” he humbly clarifies, “It’s you leaving that did. But now I don’t
even blame you for your past decisions. I’m sorry for being so selfish and mad about it instead of
trying to understand why it was necessary.”

Yoongi pulls away, his gentle gaze meeting your lonely eyes as he softly holds your face; your lips
quiver to hold back from crying. “Having seven stupid men must’ve been a torture for you.”

The empathy is too much. He’s right. Lately, it really had been a torture that you suddenly burst
into tears. Shoulders heaving, you cry and sob—harder than the first time you cried on him in an
empty classroom back in college.

It’s the first time you’ve heard one of them truly understand you. It’s a different kind of relief that
somehow patches your broken heart for a bit. It’s like the sting when an alcohol dabs on your
wounds. It’s healing but painful at the same time.

“Yoongi, it hurt. A lot,” you weep, face pressing against his chest as you sob.

“I know,” he coos, enveloping you in his arms again; the battles you must’ve secretly fought alone
hanging in his mind. “That’s why I’m apologizing on behalf of everyone’s foolishness. We
should’ve been more considerate. More careful. We should’ve assured you that everything will be
alright.”

You’re a crying mess, all these pent-up frustration coming out in the open; you hate it. You’re on
the verge of giving them up and Yoongi shows up like this. What happens to you now?
“Please, let’s fix this,” he says, halting your tears.

You pull away with furrowed brows. “What?”

“Do you still love me?”

“Are you seriously asking me that? After all this time?”

“Yes and please answer because I can’t lose you again, angel. Come back to me. To us.”

It frightens you, making you step back. “Yoongi,” you breathe, your eyes filled with fear but he
reaches out for you still.

“Didn’t you always say it’s all or nothing? It’s the seven of us or nothing?”

His question has your gaze wavering. You’ve already opted for nothing. What’s the point of
reminding you that?

“Well, Seokjin is gonna get married today. Scratch that, right now. This exact instant,” Yoongi
stresses out, anxiety plastered on his face.

“W-what?”

“What are we gonna do now? Do you still love him? Do you still love us?”

“Y-yoongi,” you coil, conflicted. Seokjin getting married has been one of the reasons for the
breakup back then. You’ve conjured the idea of letting him go numerous times already. However,
he’s interrogating you brashly and you don’t have the courage to reply.

“Answer me. Because if he really gets married off today, you’ll never have all of us anymore. For
real. Are you sure you’ll still go with nothing?”

Hesitation bubbles up inside you, the pressure is too much that you can’t think properly.

Yoongi grasps your hands tightly, his eyes boring on yours. “Trust me when I say that our feelings
for you haven’t changed. All of us still love you just the same. It’s just . . . the circumstances are a
bit off but we’ll talk about it as soon as we can. But right now, you have to decide.”

Shaking your head, “This won’t work,” you voice out feebly. “We tried this before and it didn’t
work so whether I answer or not, nothing will change.”

Yoongi sucks air through gritted teeth. “My question was do you still love us. A yes or a no is what
I need. Please. No half-hearted answers,” he beseeches, “Either you want to be with us or not. Are
you gonna gamble on the love we have for you or not? Believe me, it’s now or never so what will
it be?”

Your breath hitches, your throat feeling constricted that you can’t find a word to say. You can only
look at him but nothing comes out of your mouth.

“Angel, we can’t be the only ones fighting for you,” Yoongi finally says it, well-aware of your
giving up tendencies. However, your eyes only drop to the ground as result; your mouth still
completely shut.

Convincing you has always been a hard task and he knows it but they need an ultimatum. With one
deep exhale, he speaks, “You had four years without us. Do you really wanna live like that until
the end? Are you really fine with losing all of us . . . forever?”
.

HALF AN HOUR EARLIER

In different vehicles, they turned the radio on to ease up the tension and to help them calm down.

{NP: Circles—Post Malone | BTS version}

All of them were listening to the same station, the same song playing despite the different
circumstances; their sole purpose—to attain that happy ending they’ve always wanted.

“This is the best drive song,” the leader remarked.

Even without having any idea what’s gonna happen, Hoseok bobbed his head, jamming to the song
as he drove his blue car, bringing Namjoon and Jungkook with him to carry out their task: to stop
Seokjin’s wedding.

On the flipside, Taehyung on his red car had one hand on the steering wheel, the other folded
above his opened window while Jimin on the passenger’s seat stayed silent, his droopy eyes
shifting to the window pane after memorizing their important errands list.

Meanwhile, in a black car carrying Yoongi towards where you were, he stepped on the gas, his
eyes focused on the road as he thought of how he’d convince you to go with him.

♫ Seasons change and our love went cold ♫

♫ Feed the flame ‘cause we can’t let go ♫

♫ Run away but we’re running in circles ♫

♫ Run away, run away ♫

♫ I dare you to something ♫

♫ I’m waiting on you again ♫

♫ So I don’t take the blame ♫

♫ Run away but we’re running in circles ♫

♫ Run away, run away ♫

Three different cars with different missions to pull off . . . would things finally turn out according
to their plan? Could their plan turn things around? Would it be a success or a failure?

Wearing formal outfits, Hoseok, Namjoon and Jungkook arrived at the hotel where Seokjin was
staying and not wasting any time, they dashed into his suite to tuck him into ditching the place but
when they got there, the eldest already had visitors beforehand.

A videographer was taking his pre-wedding photos and shots of Seokjin in his sleek tux; a few
staff were inside too.

The arrival of the three had everyone’s attention and that’s when the smart Namjoon stepped in
with a sudden skit. “Hyung! There you are!” he prompted with a shaky laugh. “Looking fine as
usual!”

Oh boy was it awkward, but Hoseok followed his lead, stalking everyone as he ran to Seokjin’s
side, posing and smiling for the camera too; Jungkook did the same, distracting the photographer
with subtle acting—like shaking hands and congratulating the groom with his big ass meme smile
—as he discreetly whispered, “Hyung, we need to talk to you. ASAP.”

After a few shots, Seokjin cleared his throat, asking the staff politely that he needed a private talk
with his friends—off cam.

The moment they’re alone, the ’94s didn’t beat around the bush.

“Hyung, let’s go. Let’s get out of here!” Hoseok urged.

Jaws dropping wide, Seokjin spat, “What?!” He didn’t understand but when he saw how Jungkook
was already rummaging inside his hotel suite for another way out apart from the main door that’s
probably guarded, he realized that these three were up to something. “What kind of sick joke are
you pulling?”

Hands firmly grabbing the groom’s broad shoulders, Namjoon interrogated, “Hyung, are you sure
you want to be married to someone else? To someone not your cupcake?”

The question had Seokjin gulping down, eyes drifting to the floor. “Namjoon—”

“She can’t love you the way peaches loves you!” Hoseok interrupted knowingly and even finger
pointed the groom accusingly. “And you know that.”

“Hyung! I found it!” Jungkook squeaked, grabbing their attention.

The two commented, “Nice!” while the eldest only heaved a sigh.

“Yoongi-hyung is on the way to get her,” Namjoon guaranteed, thinking that it’d convince the
groom.

With an unimpressed look, Seokjin retorted with raised eyebrows, “And if she doesn’t come with
him? I’ll be leaving this wedding for nothing.” He brushed the younger’s hands off him,
discouraging them.

“No, hyung. Whether she comes or not, you’ll be leaving this wedding for your own freedom.”
Namjoon was firm, proving his point. “We all know you don’t belong here anyway.”

Suddenly, they heard a knock. “Sir, the driver’s waiting for you downstairs. The wedding’s about
to start in fifteen minutes.”

While the three exchanged troubled glances and soundless ‘shit’s, Seokjin yelled back, “Be there in
a minute!”

“Hyung!” Jungkook argued in displeasure. “Seriously, we gotta go.”

It was a critical moment, not even a second to waste or else everything would be screwed. One
wrong move and the whole relationship will be doomed for good; hence, even without permission,
the two others kept digging for Seokjin’s stuff that they shoved on a black bag and that had his
head aching.

Fingers pinching his nose bridge in vexation, Seokjin uttered, “Put those back. I’m not going.”

Groaning inwardly, they knew they didn’t have time for his drama so Jungkook suddenly lifted the
groom, tossing him onto his shoulder as if carrying a sack of potatoes towards the emergency exit
he just found; the 94s scrambling after them.

That’s when Seokjin got mad, repeatedly hitting the maknae’s back until he eventually lost balance
and let him go. “What are you? Kids?!” he growled, exasperated at how they’re trying to abduct
him.

“Hyung! What part of this shit do you not understand?!” Namjoon debated, hand grabbing
Seokjin’s arm again only for the eldest to whisk it off, standing his ground with a grimace.

“I said I don’t want to!”

His firm resolve had theirs crumbling down; the maknae obviously upset. “Hyung, don’t you love
her anymore? Do we not mean anything to you at all?”

Deep down, the eldest knew he had to let them know. Running a hand on his face, he exhaled in
frustration. “Don’t get me wrong. She still means the world to me,” he admitted, “But it’s just . . .
it’s just not worth the fight anymore.”

Fuck. Jungkook’s knuckles met the hard wall in frustration, hating how those words carried
sincerity that none of them could go against.

Seokjin furthered, “Look, after the break up, a part of me knew that she’ll never marry me. I don’t
wanna give up on her but I know I have to. Trust me, it’s the worst feeling ever! But I have to live
with it.”

The eldest shifted his gaze from one friend to another. “You should just let me live with it. Please.”

The three on the mission were speechless, their plan going down the drain in a trice and they
couldn’t even do anything about it.

Patting Jungkook’s and Hoseok’s shoulder, he said with eyes turning watery, “I wish you nothing
but absolute happiness . . . I hope you’d wish my wedding happiness too.”

The two were starting to tear up with his statement and that’s when Seokjin stepped closer to
Namjoon. He looked him in the eyes, his hand firm on the younger’s arm. “Take care of her for
me, Joon.”

Chin protruding as he steeled himself not to cry, Namjoon remained silent. He couldn’t believe that
they failed. He couldn’t believe that Seokjin would proceed to this wedding for real.

With the groom leaving them at the exit and heading back to his suite, they sent the dreadful
message in their group chat.

we lost Seokjin-hyung for good.

While all that was happening, the 95s was busy with their own assignment: running around town,
buying the things listed by their hyungs.

After finishing their list, they went back in the red car with a satisfied and fulfilled smile. But in the
middle of the drive, Jimin double checked, “We didn’t forget anything important, right?”

“As far as I remembered, we got everything they asked us to pick up,” said the other.

“Good.”

A few seconds after . . .

“Shit. My phone!” the younger panicked while the other automatically rolled his eyes.

“Tae. I told you earlier that my phone’s battery is dead. What the hell?” Jimin grumbled, starting a
heated argument between them.

“Well, I didn’t leave it in some store on purpose!”

“If you only listened, you wouldn’t have left it!” Jimin retorted, “Damn, Tae. They asked me to
help you out because of how careless you really are. Please don’t be reckless. Don’t ruin this for
them.”

Lips puckered in pout, Taehyung apologized. “It’s my fault, sorry. But I’m not driving back for a
phone. We’re gonna be late.”

Shaking his head, Jimin yielded with a sigh. “How will they contact us now, idiot.”

“The important thing is that we know where the meetup location is,” Taehyung answered with his
boxy smile. “We just need to wait for them there. Hope for the best. No, I’m sure everything will
turn out great.”

Oh, if only they had their phones and knew.

“And Chim,” Taehyung furthered, side-eyeing his best friend, “Are you really not gonna change
your mind?”

Jimin returned his gaze. “We’ve talked about this for like a million times already, Tae. But I’m
staying firm with my decision.”

PRESENT

Thank goodness Yoongi manages to drag you out of Jaebum’s house and into his black car; one
step closer into accomplishing their mission.

“Yoongi, where are we going?” you whine, hating how clueless you are of his plans.

Fixing your seatbelt, he huffs, “You’ll know when we get there.”

Arms crossing over your chest, you hiss, “Fine. Promise me you’ll tell me everything when we
arrive.”
“Promise.”

You reach to tilt his chin to look him in the eyes. “Promise,” you sound more demanding this time.

With a modest nod, he repeats, and his reassurance has you sitting back quietly.

A few minutes later, Yoongi remembers to check his phone. The soonest the traffic light turns red,
he fishes it out of his pocket.

we lost Seokjin-hyung for good.

His throat dries up at that news, his nail quickly trapped between his teeth as he agitatedly mulls
over what he just found out. For fucksake, what was Seokjin thinking?!

Sighing in displeasure, he tries to hold it in, not wanting you to see through how terrified and in
panic he was that this whole plan turned out to be a big failure. But it’s not long after you notice
the sudden change in his aura.

“What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”

Quickly, he tosses his phone away from your reach as he fakes a smile. “Nothing, angel. Just can’t
believe you’re really here with me now,” Yoongi mumbles.

Another few sighs, and he wordlessly muses. What should he do now? His mind undergoes
complete chaos and it’s all thanks to the coward Kim Seokjin.

Damn it. It has him hesitating. Should he still bring you to the meetup location? For what? There’s
no point to that if Seokjin is marrying someone else. For sure, you wouldn’t get back with only six
of them. Oh, no, scratch that. Five. How will he even tell you that Jimin doesn’t wanna be a part of
this anymore too?

Biting on his lip, he thinks of something else, stealing a glance at you. That’s right. He still has you
at least. It’s not the end of the world if that’s the case, right?

Maybe he should just kidnap you and convince you to run away with him? If Seokjin and Jimin
don’t want you, then so be it.

Making up his mind, he turns the steering wheel to the left, driving you to where he thinks is best
for you.

For a few heartbeats, you stay silent; the car parked in who-knows-where. Trusting him, you wait
for him to say something, but he agonizingly doesn’t.

“Yoongi,” you yield, turning to him with confused eyes. “You promised you’d tell me the soonest
we arrive. What’s this about?”
He looks at you, defeat evident in his eyes that it frightens you. Something’s wrong.

Ruminating how he’ll convey the heartbreaking bad news to you, Yoongi still doesn’t know what
to do and only stares at you.

Before he can answer, a red car arrives at the meet-up place and in a flash, Taehyung is hastily
dragging you—without warning—to a cottage; Yoongi soundlessly trailing behind you after a
while.

You’re beyond baffled by what’s happening but you’re rattled by how they’re acting, especially
when Tae hands you a paper bag.

“Put this on,” he says lowly, not explaining any reasons or whatsoever.

Cocking your head, you question, “What for?”

“Jin-hyung’s wedding,” Taehyung answers straightforwardly while you peek inside the bag. Before
you can respond, he instructs in hushed tone, “Just wear it.” And then he steps out of the room,
giving you privacy to change.

Getting the dress out of the bag, you heave a deep sigh, your knees turning weak that you end up
sitting on the edge of the bed.

It’s beautiful; flower designs all over the bodice and even subtly creeping down the upper skirt.
And with that, you’re suddenly tearing up as you grasp what this is all about.

Seokjin must’ve had a sophisticated garden wedding and the reception must be exclusive too.
Unless you wear this, you can’t get inside to see him. That explains the classy suit with a flower in
the out-breast pocket that Taehyung’s wearing and the one you noticed hanging on Yoongi’s
backseat too.

Meekly, you put it on, never mind the sneakers you’re wearing. You stare at your reflection in the
mirror. The plunging neckline tube suits you, but it somehow feels too revealing that you hide
yourself in the big hoodie—which you assumed might be Taehyung’s—that was misplaced inside
the paper bag too. When you’re about to step out of the room, you hear Yoongi and Taehyung
conversing.

“What time will Seokjin-hyung get here?” the younger asks, your heart pounding loudly in
anticipation.

“Tae . . . he won’t,” Yoongi reveals somberly; your world coming to a fucking stop. “Didn’t you
read their text message?”

“W-what?” Taehyung sounds appalled but you can’t decipher what he’s saying because your mind
is already far gone.

You only get to pull yourself together when you hear Taehyung call out to Namjoon who probably
just arrived, the agitation evident in his tone, “Namjoon-hyung, what do we do now?”

“What do you mean what do we do?” your best friend hurls back, encouraging them still, “Of
course, we’re sticking to the original plan no matter what. Get ready.”

You hear their footsteps leaving, Yoongi and Taehyung following their leader outside.

First of all, you don’t know the original plan. But whatever that is, hearing Namjoon talk like that
and with Yoongi’s glum expression back in the car only proves that your assumption is right—the
wedding must’ve pushed through.

Wow. Seokjin really did get married to someone else.

Staring into space, you’re dumbfounded and numb; the dismay and depression sinking in slowly.
You’re too late. A drop of tear falls on your cheek, your heart shattering into shards.

You take a few steps. One. Two. Turning the doorknob as you step out of the room thoughtlessly.
It’s odd how you can’t feel anything despite knowing how clammy your hands are or how hard it is
to breathe; you’re just too numb to complain.

Unexpectedly, someone’s still inside the cottage too. A man sitting astride, both elbows resting
above his thighs, his head hanging low as his gaze digs the floor.

“Jimin?” you breathe faintly.

His head swings to your direction, alarmed. Although he looks as dejected as you, it seems like he
had no idea you’re there inside too.

Without second thoughts, he mutters lowly, “I’m sorry.”

You hear him but right now you just feel so blank at the moment that all you can do is sit beside
him in silence while Jimin directs his attention back to the ground as if he can’t bear looking at you
for more than a few seconds.

“I was a jerk,” he slowly admits, “When I found out about his wedding, I knew you had to know. I
just didn’t know how to tell you and honestly . . .” His fists tighten as if he’s holding back but
you’re still too numb to react.

There’s one deep exhale before he comes clean, “I wanted you to see us with other women too. I
wanted to show you what you’re missing.” Jimin then looks at you, heartfelt remorse written all
over his face.

You feign a smile. “It worked. I realized tons of things after that.” But no matter how much you
force it, you’re too lonely for a smile to reach your eyes.

“Me too,” he whispers weakly, his frustration gradually showing, “But maybe it’s a little too late.
Sucks that hyung didn’t choose you this time.”

Your eyes widen at his words for a moment before you’re biting on your lips to hold down your
tears and with that he realizes his careless slip of tongue.

“I’m so sorry.” Before he says anymore stupid things, Jimin decides to leave.

And you start feeling more pathetic left alone. Thanks to him, your heart break is now confirmed.

You heave one heavy exhale to keep your emotions at bay and then you scoff at yourself. So this
must be what total defeat feels like. It’s as if all your hopes and dreams vanish into thin air without
warning.

Yet come to think of it, you had tons of warnings. You knew this would happen but life is just so
fucking unfair. No matter how much you see it coming, no matter how much you prepare for the
pain, it’ll always hurt when it hits you.
But you wanted this. You wanted him to be happy, thus you need to cheer up and be happy for
them even if it hurts like hell.

You just can’t help but get frustrated. It would’ve been easier to accept if only Yoongi didn’t give
you that false hope that Seokjin still loves you too.

But you shake your head, knowing that there’s no one else to blame but you. It’s your decision to
come along after all. And maybe it’s about time you let this go and go home alone like how it’s
meant to be.

All or nothing, remember?

Mustering your courage, you stand up and look at the mirror, huffing one last sigh of frustration
out of your system. Noticing the hoodie you’re still wearing, you take it off, holding onto it to
return it to Taehyung as you leave the room.

A staff comes across you as you look where either Yoongi or Taehyung are and she gladly assists
you, leading you towards the backdoor exit.

And as you open it, the vast ocean greets you.

The mild afternoon sun.

The cool breeze.

The beautiful sky.

And then . . .

Your eyes zero on something else.

Someone’s by the shore, his back on you as he stares at the horizon.

All of a sudden, your heart stills for a few seconds and you don’t even know if that’s possible but
your world stops as he turns to look at you.

Kim Seokjin.

{BGM: Moon—BTS Jin}

Your hands automatically cover your mouth as you gasp in surprise, tears instantly flowing from
your eyes.

How can this man be here? You can’t believe it. He’s right in front of you that you can’t help but
cry and cry in different mixed emotions. The image of him standing by the altar, a heartbroken
groom forced to marry someone else keeps your tears streaming down until—

With a soft smile, Seokjin opens his arms as if calling out to you for an embrace.
Even if the tears won’t stop, even if your knees are still on its weakest, you run to him. Oh, you run
to him with all the love you have.

You’re well aware that you’re rushing towards him but oddly everything happens in slow motion;
your hair bouncing along your heart which keeps beating its loudest, your breathing staggered, your
eyes solely set on him.

Seokjin seems so close yet so far. You want to run quicker, get to him sooner but every step feels
like a year. Maybe great things are meant to happen in quick slow motions just so we could savor it
longer than we can.

But boy, when you reach him, it feels like you’ve won the goldest of gold medal.

On the contrary, the groom can’t help but reminisce about the night of his bachelor’s party where
he ran after you but decided not to show himself instead.

Seokjin wanted to comfort you so badly. He wanted to explain and ease the pain
you’re feeling but he realized that he shouldn’t see you before his wedding because if
he did, he might back out. The instant he had the chance to talk to you or even hold you
for a second would be troublesome because he knew it’d be impossible to let you go.

Truth be told but he was okay to be disowned. What’s not okay was knowing that
despite his own decisions, you’d still blame yourself in the end.

Which led him to stay firm with rejecting Hoseok, Namjoon and Jungkook. He really
wanted to let you go and just be happy with the others but the maknae wouldn’t back
down. Even after he left them, he still followed the eldest and even grabbed him by the
collar.

“Hyung, you can forget about us but please don’t let yourself be forced into this stupid
fixed marriage at least! This is your life! You deserve to be with someone who makes
you happy!”

Jungkook was right. If Seokjin wanted happiness, he should be the one to fight for it
and take control of his life. Hence, he left a note before ditching the wedding and
going with Bangtan last-minute.

you can give all my inheritance to Jjangu but marriage isn’t for me.

worldwidehandsome leaving Kim house—for good

Kim Seokjin

His body jolts back with how you jump onto him, your arms tightly wrapping around his neck as
you bury your face on his nape—still crying and sobbing.

Fuck. How long did you crave to hug him like this again?

In that exact moment, Seokjin realizes . . . he’s home.

His hands make its way around your hips in return, tightening the embrace before he lifts you from
the ground, spinning your body around along with his once. He’s that overjoyed.

After literally sweeping you off your feet, he lets you down with a sigh of relief. “I thought you’d
let me get married to someone I don’t love.”

“I thought I could,” you admit, “but obviously I just can’t.”

Meanwhile . . .

Jimin is trying to find his way out of the place. His only purpose of coming there has been just to
help Taehyung carry out the mission in the first place. Nothing more. Nothing less. He’s already
made up his mind, accepting the fact that he can’t be with you.

After everything that happened between you and everything he did to hurt you, he doesn’t
and never will deserve to have you in his life ever again.

“Are you lost, sir?” a staff member politely asks and Jimin replies with a sheepish smile.

“I’m looking for the exit.”

With a nod, the staff assists him, leading him on his way out.

Brushing his fingers through his hair, Jimin follows; in spite of the acceptance he’s mustered, his
mind still lingers back to you, to everyone. How are they coping up with the bad news? How are
you coping up with losing Seokjin? Of course, he feels sad too. Of all the things he wishes for, it’s
for everyone’s happiness after all.

“Thank you for visiting. Have a nice day,” the staff interrupts his train of thoughts; a door opening
for him.

Courteous, Jimin bows back, stepping out and silently saying goodbye to everyone.

He keeps his head low regardless of the sun greeting him warmly—contrasting the cold misery
he’s suffering. A few more steps outside and the beach sand grabs his attention.

Confused where he is, Jimin finally raises his head to look at his surroundings; his eyes searching
for the city roads but instead he finds you across the shore—surrounded by the six others—happily
smiling. That definitely has him stunned.

It’s unintentional but he can’t help but stare at you in that lovely dress they’ve bought earlier. He’s
expected you to look dazzling in it but Jimin never knew you’d be so beautiful that it’d make him
tear up. He’s unsure how all of you reunited but deep down, he’s happy for everyone.

Suddenly, you notice him, your eyes staring back at him in return.

Jimin wants to leave but his feet remain rooted to the spot. Maybe because it’s the sight he always
wanted to see—you, in that dress, looking back at him.

But he doesn’t have the right to be there when he already forfeited and surrendered. Pointedly
looking away, he turns his back against everyone. He believes that he could live without you . . .
but without you, he’d be miserable. Though maybe being miserable is what he truly deserves, is he
strong enough to face the consequence of his mistakes? He should be—

“Jimin!”

The sound of your voice calling out his name has him more frozen in place.
It doesn’t take long until you’re behind him, grabbing him by the arm to turn to you.

“Please,” he desperately begs. “Don’t waste your time on an asshole like me, the others are
waiting. The others have a big surprise for you. It’s—”

“Jimin,” you utter, cupping his face in your hands lovingly. You’ve never seen him this sad.
There’s no fire in his droopy eyes anymore, as if it’s been doused with cold ice water and nothing’s
left inside of him.

{BGM: 00:00—BTS}

You’re not used to it. For the past couple of weeks, you’ve been arguing with him repeatedly that
seeing him in this state feels so heavy.

As if on cue, you hear Yoongi’s voice inside your head, ‘Pain changes people.’ The conversation
you had in the car follows thereafter.

“Jimin probably took it the hardest,” he added, eyes fixated on the road while you
fidgeted with your nails. “Jimin always goes to extremes. You know that. Either he’s
extremely selfless or extremely not. He’d understand, as long as he can, perhaps tries
to—even if he couldn’t. He’d do anything for you, but when you left . . . something
broke inside him.”

The whole month of being with him flashed in your mind that you couldn’t react to
what Yoongi was saying.

“Jungkook told me that whenever they’d meet up, Jimin always jested ‘Why give your
best when the one you love leaves anyway? Might as well just be the worst.’ I always
knew he meant something deep. I just didn’t know it was that deep.”

“He really was terrible,” you vouched thoughtlessly.

It made Yoongi steal a quick glance at you. “He wanted revenge, probably because he
felt like you left us so easily. None of us knew what happened between you two, but the
only question here is . . . can you forgive him?”

You’ve been thinking about it since then and maybe it’s the right time to reveal your answer.

“Yoongi explained everything,” you say and before you can continue Jimin drops to his knees
without hesitation.

“I’m so sorry. I’m such a jerk. I-I wanted you to suffer with me. I wanted to hear you say that you
still love me so badly that I just . . . I turned into a monster.”

You can see it in his eyes and it unnerves you, how he’s so broken and miserable at best. He’s
trying his hardest to stay strong but you know better. You want to be there for him—especially in
his weakest, and so you go down on your knees too, leveling yourself to him kindly.

“No. It’s my fault too. I’m sorry for leaving you just like that,” you impart, you thumb slowly
brushing against his soft cheek. “Besides, what matters is that I forgive you.”
“No,” Jimin sighs, shaking his head as tears stream down his face; his gaze faltering to the ground.
“You can’t forgive me. You shouldn’t. I went too far. I—”

“But I do forgive you,” you counter firmly. “Because that’s how love works, right?” You tilt his
chin up and smile. “Someone once told me . . . ‘Fuck meeting halfway. You just have to stay with
me and I’ll go all the way.’”

Hearing those words—his own promises to you that night you broke up with them—has Jimin
shedding more tears. He springs to you, wrapping his arms around you in the tightest embrace as he
sobs.

“Back to you, Ji.” You rub his back fondly, consoling him with a relieved smile. He once fought
for you so damn hard; it’s about time you fought for him too. Because isn’t that what true love
means?

Loving people even at their worst. Unceasingly trying to understand despite not understanding.
Continuously being there for him when everyone has forsaken him—even himself.

In silence and with a grateful heart, the six others watch you and Jimin make up; the sight of you
hugging uplifting all their fears. It was a breath of fresh air, a big storm coming to an end.

Together, you reunite with the others; the others smiling fondly at Jimin while Taehyung instantly
swings an arm around his best friend’s neck. “I was so worried you two would never make up!”

“Well, I’m a lucky man,” is what Jimin shyly says.

Surrounded by these handsome ex-boyfriends of yours, “What do we do now?” you inquire.

“First,” Hoseok advances, tucking your hair behind your ear and gazing at you as if you’re the
most beautiful thing that ever existed in the universe. “Let us savor how you look in that dress.”

All at once, you blush, your eyes instantly scanning your wardrobe. “Huh? My dress?” you echo,
“Isn’t this dress part of Seokjin’s wedding motif?”

They laugh at your assumption.

“Of course not!” Taehyung enthusiastically reveals, “That’s your choose-day dress.”

“My what?” You look at them with confused eyes. “I honestly thought we’d attend Seokjin’s
wedding and—”

“I asked you if you love us,” Yoongi cuts you off sternly, “D’you really mean it?”

Frowning, you retort, “Do you take me for a liar?”

Again, their chuckles resonate in the air at how you and Yoongi converse.

“Then do you think you’ll love us forever?” the pianist throws a follow-up question.

“No,” you answer without batting an eye; their hearts completely still at your firm statement. “I
don’t think I’ll love the seven of you forever.”

Their disenchantments quickly make it to their faces, so you continue, emphasizing, “I’m sure I’ll
love the seven of you forever.”

Deep and heavy sighs of relief are released as they clutch their chests as if they almost had a heart
attack. Boy, you really had them on the edge with every word you toss them. You may have
decided to fight for them at the eleventh hour but that doesn’t mean your decision was a sham.

Sometimes, time pressure helps. Knowing that something’s on the line, that you’re on the brink of
losing something for good; it triggers you to think quickly, your impulse sending you decisions
you never knew you’re capable of taking. It pushes you out of your comfort zone, forcing you to
make your mind up and weigh the pros and cons, the ups and downs, the risks and benefits faster.

It’s now or never. Win or lose.

“You’re evil,” Yoongi mutters, shaking his head in disbelief while you only titter at how funny
their reactions were that you fail to notice a few things they’re carrying until they step closer to
you; Hoseok holding a veil, Jungkook extending a fresh bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“I know you hate bouquets,” Jungkook whispers, “But don’t worry. We’ll be quick so we can put
these flowers in a vase later, baby.”

Baby. That word has you all electrified, your cheeks flushing as you take the flowers. “What is
this?” You’re completely perplexed, no ideas as to what they’re up to until Hoseok places the veil
above your head with a big smile; your eyes turning glassy straightaway. “Don’t tell me we’re—?”

“Don’t panic. It’s not a wedding,” Namjoon coaxes calmly as the others fix your veil, “It’s just an
ordinary Tuesday . . . waiting to be a legendary Choose Day.”

“W-what do you mean?”

Seokjin helps, “Today, we’re choosing to be yours . . . Now and for all eternity.”

Your mouth hangs slightly ajar, completely taken aback by what they tell you. You’re zoning out
until Jungkook tilts your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. “Will you accept our choices and
choose to do the same thing in return?”

Your heart thunders, skipping a dozen beats.

This. This feels like such an important moment; their question like a proposal, a covenant, a
promise of everlasting love that your breath hitches up your throat.

You nod. Oh god, you fucking nod. After all you’ve been through; the roller-coaster journey you
had with these people . . . nodding is all you could do, the tears streaming down your cheeks
completely overlooked with how terrified you are that if you don’t agree to this now, you might
lose them again. And you’re not gonna let that happen because having them in your life is your
ultimate happiness.

For once, you gather all the strength you have to take a shot at love again.

Brushing his thumb on your cheeks, Jungkook hushes you, wanting to stop your tears. “You don’t
know how much we’re willing to give up just to have you back in our lives again.” He hugs you—
so tight that all your trouble dissipates—before he’s bringing you to a specific spot inside a little
gazebo.

Standing before you all dressed up and matching your outfit—except for Jimin in his black hoodie
and Seokjin in his vest, their gazes locked on you as Yoongi sets off, clearing his throat. “You’re
the person we love without reasons or justifications,” he sincerely says, “You know I tried. I tried
my best to forget about you . . . but there’s just this huge pull. I can’t help but fall for you over and
over again; no matter the consequences or the risks or the down sides.”
Namjoon joins, “Loving you makes me happy and I know the others feel the same way too—
despite all the setbacks.”

By now, you bite on your bottom lip, struggling to avoid melting and breaking down as you absorb
what they’re telling you.

“Peaches, we love you,” Hoseok supports, “Not just tiny pieces of who you are but your entirety.”

“Your weaknesses, your fears,” Taehyung adds, “even your self-doubts if you’re truly enough for
the seven of us . . . We love all of it.”

“Regret.” Jungkook smiles. “That’s something I’ll only feel if I don’t get to say how eager I am to
spend the rest of my life loving you no matter the odds.”

Seokjin supplements, “Not a single second of my life will I ever regret choosing you and this
fucked up situation.”

Sure, making up with them and talking about the problem is always the first step, but there’s
something strange with their deep proclamations. It feels so intimate, so profound, that it engulfs
you, reminding you what it feels like to be loved like this.

‘It’s not a wedding,’ they said but as you turn to your best friend, you immediately get a hint.

“Do you . . .” Namjoon has been the most eloquent speaker but for the first time in your life, you
witness his hands shake, along with his voice trembling as he reads whatever is written on the
piece of paper he’s holding closely. “Choose to take on life with us seven despite every damn
hardship that you may face due to the unusual relationship of polyamory which may not be
accepted by most people in our lives?”

Your tears threaten to burst at their audacity to ask you that big question.

Aware of how indecisive you are, every second of your silence is nerve-racking for them,
enormous lumps forming in their throats, their breathings heavier than usual as they all wait for
your answer.

This isn’t a wedding; therefore, you know that ‘I do’ isn’t the right answer at all.

Let out one deep exhale, you muster your bravery. “I will,” you breathe; because ‘I do’ is too
mainstream for the eight of you and you’ve decided to use much more meaningful words to utter.

Will. An auxiliary verb used to express futurity. Used to express desire, choice, willingness and
consent; it expresses frequent, customary or habitual actions.

They all seem stunned that you repeat, “I will.”

Two words. Enough to deepen the vows you make for them. It has Yoongi and Hoseok sighing in
relief, Taehyung and Jungkook punching in the air due to utmost happiness before giving each
other a high five while Jimin buries his face in his palms, crying as he sobs uncontrollably; the mix
of emotions inside him quickly stirring up that he falls on his knees in disbelief.

You crouch down to console him, tilting his chin to face you as you wipe his tears dry. “Ji, why
are you crying?” you choke, trying to rein your own tears from falling too. “Do you oppose what I
said? Don’t you want to be with me until the end?” you tease, trying to lighten up the mood.

“A-are you sure you don’t hate me?” he weeps.

You hum for a moment, pretending to think about it.

“I knew it,” he croaks, face twisting in frustration, “I’m—”

“Not a million fights can make me hate you. Any of you,” you spell out. Hence, Jimin hugs you and
you coax him with a soft ‘I love you’ rubbing his back.

Then and there, you see Seokjin in front of you, wiping his own tears of joy. Namjoon isn’t faring
any better; his chin protruding as he sniffs, making efforts to keep his emotions at bay since he’s
the one who throws vows for everyone.

They echo your answer; several ‘I will’ are said and Namjoon continues to question you, “Ironic as
it may seem, but will you choose to always be loyal and faithful to the seven of us and only to the
seven of us forever?”

With a smile, you answer, “I will,” but quickly flick their foreheads thereafter, startling then. “You
guys! Let me remind you that you’re the ones who had other women straddling you.”

Hands digging on your sides, you pout, their eyes turning apologetic in a trice but you don’t let
them apologize. “I’m not mad though. Never was. Because none of you were mine during those
times,” you explain, your gazes dropping to the ground. “My only concern is your welfare. And the
equality in this relationship. I promise to be faithful but you guys don’t need to vow loyalty to me.
You just have to tell me when you want to bail and I’d understand. Because what if I get too
overwhelmed by all your love? What if I fail to satisfy all of you because I’m just one and your
seven and—”

“Shh,” Seokjin responds softly, shaking his head. “Isn’t that the same exact reason we broke up?”

“But—”

“We’ve lost you once already,” Taehyung cuts you off, “You’ve given us plenty of time to try and
replace you.”

Yoongi testifies, “We’ve honestly attempted to move on, but we can’t. Life without you just isn’t
worth it.”

“Only you can complete us,” Jungkook follows, determined to put on a goddamn debate you can’t
win.

His dimples popping, Namjoon claims, “We’re never letting you go after that, sleepyhead.”

“Nor will we ever cheat on you,” Hoseok promises, “I’d stake my whole life on that.”

Your heart is so full that you just might explode into fine dust of happiness. All your insecurities,
they’re wiping it out that you start crying on your palms. Fuck, it just feels so good to hear them
say all that.

Perhaps this is all just a dream?

Standing there as you cry, they come to you, enveloping you in a big group hug as they comfort
you; Taehyung suddenly pinching your cheeks wide as he pouts.

“Stop crying or we’ll all cry too and we won’t finish whatever this thing is.”

The subtle sting on your cheeks stirs you up. No, this isn’t a dream. They’re really out here,
professing their love for you, making you wipe your own tears.

“Okay, let’s continue,” you reply, turning to Namjoon who nods at you.

“Will you choose to stay no matter how the world sees this relationship as problematic or how
they’ll judge us behind our backs or even upfront our faces?” he asks, eyes filled with concern as
he looks at you. “Will you choose to stay, keeping in mind that what matters is our happiness and
not theirs? And will you please tell us everything and let us fight alongside you too?”

As if on cue, the hardships you’ve secretly endured during college to med school because of the
poly relationship hover in your mind that you chuckle. Honestly, you never cared about the haters.
You just wanted to protect the boys and maintain peace, knowing that if they knew what those
people were up to, they’d surely throw a fist.

“I will,” you vow and the rest of them answer the same thing.

“Lastly,” Namjoon states, eyes shifting from one individual to another. “Will you promise to love
each other—in the most imperfect yet genuine way—until we grow old and die and be reincarnated
as soulmates who’ll find each other again in our next lifetimes after?”

Silence settles and he sighs. “I’m kidding. I was being dramatic—”

“No, no!” you all react, “We love that vow.”

You look at the seven of them and genuinely say, “I will.” And again, all of them repeat the same
words; big smiles plastered on their faces.

And that’s when Taehyung steps in with an opened box that has you gasping.

“With these rings . . . which we worked hard to convince the shop to get it done by today. It’s so
beautiful despite the highly minimalist aesthetic of just gold on the outside but has all our names
engraved on the inside, *coughs* please applaud us and our efforts!” He flashes his big boxy
smile, the others giving in and actually clapping as requested.

Eight rings. The number of items has Jimin turning to Taehyung, his face a mix of surprise,
gratefulness and disbelief; he was speechless, his hand covering his face because if not, he’ll be
crying again.

“Of course, I secretly got one for you too, buddy!” Tae says with a subtle smile, patting his best
friend’s back. “No matter how many times you told me that you’re staying out of this. Face it, I
know you better.”

Then Taehyung raises his fist and Jimin bumps it with his before the younger is taking a ring; his
gaze shifting to you, his palm reaching out, waiting for your hand.

Biting on your lips in excitement, you extend your left hand and Taehyung takes it but oddly . . .

Everyone else’s brows pinch in bafflement at how he’s about to put the gold ring on
your pointer finger.

With a few chuckles, Hoseok intervenes, his hand tapping the younger’s shoulder. “Taetae, there’s
a finger for rings . . . and it’s called a ring finger.”

Different laughter permeates in the air but Taehyung only shakes his head. “No, hyung. There’s a
finger we use to point things we choose. And it’s called a pointer finger.”
His suddenly genius and insightful statement takes everyone aback, and he grabs that opportunity
to slip the ring on you.

Oh, the euphoric feeling of the jewelry sliding on your finger hits harder after hearing Taehyung’s
justification. In no time, your eyes are teary again, filled with elating happiness you never knew
exists. It feels so right. As if it’s better than marriage itself even though you haven’t experienced it
and probably never will.

But how they manage to make you feel this special is way beyond you.

Sealing his words by kissing the ring on your pointer finger, Taehyung whispers, “Baby doll, from
this day onwards, we’re choosing you. Our one and only you.”

Still dumbfounded, you stare at the simplicity of the ring. No fancy stones. No eye-catching
diamonds. Literally just a plain gold band.

And your lips stretch into a smile. Exactly just the way you prefer.

In the end, it seems like they’re really owning up to their words. It’s really not a wedding.

Yet funny how even without contracts or ceremonies—not even any witnesses, they’re still able to
bring forth the essence of binding hearts in a lifetime commitment. It may not be the wedding any
of you have imagined or dreamed of. Heck, if you’d think about it, it’s not even close to a real
wedding at all. You may not be legally bound to them, and this doesn’t make you their official wife
as well . . . but that’s the whole point.

Just like the rings you have, the eight of you are well-aware what this is and you don’t force it to
be something it’s not. Rather, you’re accepting the path you chose. You agree to take the setbacks
and the difficulties that’ll come your way.

“Forever,” you breathe as you put on the rings to your partners’ left pointer fingers too. “To other
people who’d see our ring fingers empty, we may all look like eight single wasted individuals
growing alone but who cares? We’ll wear this lowkey rings, knowing that there’s far more to it
than meets the eye. And it’s the hearts of those who truly want to commit. The hearts of those
whose names are engraved in our existence.”

The last ring slides perfectly onto Jungkook’s finger and you smile. “Isn’t that what’s important?”

The maknae nods enthusiastically, his bunny smile flashing brightly. For a few heartbeats,
everyone’s eyes are fixed on their rings, basking in the genuine contentment it creates.

Namjoon interrupts softly, “Then I guess . . . we can now kiss our . . . uhm, the love of our life?”

Your cheeks redden, suddenly you’re turning sheepish and shy as if it’s your first seven kisses all
over again.

“Maknae privileges!” Jungkook calls out with a sly smile, earning scoffs and eye rolls from the
others while you can only giggle at them.

Excited, he lifts your veil and you close your eyes in return, waiting for his kiss but to your
surprise, his lips land on your forehead.

Peeling your eyes open, you look at Jungkook with bewilderment but he only chuckles, bringing
you in front of Seokjin instead.
“Hyung, I’ll let you do the honors since we ruined your wedding . . . with a much much much
more prettier woman to kiss and live with.”

{BGM: Two Punks in Love—bulow}

That rascal really knows how to make butterflies devour your tummy. He even has Seokjin
grinning so big, his gratefulness overflowing; the original groom-to-be pulls you in, cupping your
face gently.

Teary eyed, you look at him. It’s the first time in a long time to be with Seokjin like this and it
reminds you how you almost lost him completely in your life if not for the others meddling.

“It’s okay,” Seokjin whispers as if he heard your thoughts, “I’m never leaving your side. This
handsome man is all yours, cupcake.”

His humorous speech has you giggling and before you know it, he’s closed the distance, his plump
lips finding yours in a sweet chaste kiss. Then he pulls away with his lopsided smile. “For your
information, this is my dream wedding.”

“Dream wedding?” You raise your brow at him. “You just ruined your real wedding. What would
your parents do now?”

“Well, I’m disowned. And broke,” he says proudly. “Good thing you’re a doctor. Your salary’d be
enough to feed us forever.”

You laugh. “Well, Jungkook and I will be the greatest doctors out there. Don’t worry, we’ll be
rich. But what’s in it for me? I won’t feed you for free, you know.”

“I’ll work my ass off as your chef, your slave, your partner, and even your clown if you want to.”

“Too much talking, hyung. Let me kiss my angel! I’ve been dying to,” Yoongi grumpily interrupts,
snatching you away from the eldest that has the rest in stitches while you comically roll your eyes
at him, your hands resting on his shoulders.

“When will you tell them that you’ve already kissed me before I even got in your car, you
smartass?” You expose him with a smirk, and the others jokingly beat Yoongi up without
hesitation. (*insert chibi anime scene of beating him up*)

Wincing at how you betray him, he pouts at you, making you tiptoe to kiss him this time and you
feel him smile against your lips.

You pull away, his gummy smile greeting you.

“You know, this whole thing just proves that you’d really run away with me.”

Snickering, you embrace him; if it wasn’t for him talking to you, this wouldn’t have happened.
“Thank you,” you mutter and his hold on you tightens.

“You’re the greatest thing that has ever happened to me, my angel.”

It seems like Yoongi didn’t want to hog you all to himself because he’s quick to release you,
turning you to the man beside him.

Hoseok.

Oh, the nervousness you suddenly feel. It’s the first time you face him this close after the breakup
that your heart beats erratically. You don’t know how to act; what to do or what to say but then he
suddenly pulls you by the waist, your hand on his shoulder, the other confiscated by him.

His cute dimples pop as he begins moving, your body swaying along and in no time, you’re slow
dancing despite no music; just the sound of the ocean waves nearby and then he hums his own
spontaneous love song that you giggle.

Swaying into his acapella beat is suddenly so goddamn romantic that you rest your head on his
chest.

“Seems like your sober thoughts and drunk thoughts don’t differ much at all,” Hoseok says, his
cheek pressed on your head.

You pull away to look at him. “What?”

“You told me we’d dance like this on our wedding day. And you’re right.”

Not long after, he narrates that special night that reels in his mind like a movie.

“Hoseok,” you breathed, but he didn’t let you speak much.

“I don’t know what the future holds, but when you left, it was like a wake-up call, that
maybe we’re bound to walk on different paths. And so I let go, letting myself lose
you.” He couldn’t hold it in anymore, tears running down his eyes as he sobbed,
“We’re like lost souls waiting for that eureka moment. But when we finally find the
right path, I hope we could still walk on it together?”

Turning to you, he cupped your cheek, waiting for your answer but the only thing he
heard was sobs from you too. Trying to console you, he kissed your tears away. “Don’t
worry. If that’s too much to ask, maybe I’ll just be right behind you, waiting for you to
turn around. And maybe if I get lucky, we’ll go home together?”

Suddenly, you hugged him tightly, whispering something in his ear as you teared up,
“Maybe we should get married.”

“What?” Hoseok chuckled at your silly idea. Either you’re too sleepy, too drunk or
just plain crazy but you stubbornly repeated yourself.

With a pout, you whined, “Will you marry me, Jung Hoseok?”

“She what?!” the six others roar in surprise, making Hoseok break away from you, cutting the
dance.

Blinking repeatedly as if you’re lost, you query too, “I . . . p-proposed to you?”

Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, he replied in an undertone, “Well, that silver ring on your
middle finger is enough evidence.”

As if on cue, all focus dart on the innocent silver ring on your right hand which you’ve been
wearing for a while now. Then everyone shifts their attention, shooting Hoseok laser beams—
envious as fuck—while he can only shrug his shoulders, continuing the narration since you look
more confused than ever.

Heat crept up on his face, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek—Hoseok was
elated and overjoyed. “You’re seriously proposing to me, peaches?”

You sleepily nodded.

“You’re drunk,” he countered, letting you off the hook instead.

“No, I’m not.”

Chuckling, he cupped your face again. “Yes, you are. Look at you. You can’t even
open your eyes.”

“I’m not,” you murmured, your eyelids heavy. “I just love you this much.”

“Oh yeah? You sure you’ll remember this tomorrow morning?”

Meek, you hummed. “Definitely! So . . . will you marry me?”

Again, your obstinacy had him giggling. He couldn’t help but find you so adorable, his
lips instinctively pressing on yours. “Well, I gotta tell the six others first.”

“No need,” you thoughtlessly said, “I’ll be marrying them too!”

Hoseok erupted in laughter at how free-spirited this drunk version of you was. Sober-
you would’ve never said that.

“Stop laughing,” you grumbled, eyes fighting off the drowsiness. “I’m serious. We’ll
be together forever and then we’ll dance on our wedding day.”

Wrapping his arms around you to snuggle you closer, he hummed, “To which song?”

“Nothing,” you answered with confidence. “We’ll dance to nothing because I’m pretty
sure you’ll make our own background melody when that time comes.”

His lips curved, his heart-shaped smile taking over as he stared at you fondly. “You
know me so well, peaches.”

“Of course. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Hoseok watched you slowly drifting into sleep and it made him anxious. His fingers
softly tracing random patterns on your face, he whispered, “Are you really not drunk?
Will you really remember this tomorrow? What if you don’t?”

“I will.” You collected his finger and bit it teasingly before you intertwined his hand
with yours. “Stop worrying, Hoseok-nim. Let’s sleep.”

“Just to be sure,” he trailed off, reaching for your hand. “I’ll give you my favorite
silver ring to remind you, okay?”
 “Okay. I won’t forget. I promise to repeat everything I said tomorrow.”

You smiled at each other and that’s when he kissed you goodnight.

With a frown, Hoseok rasps, “But you didn’t keep your promise, peaches.”

Rattled, you flail. “W-what? When did that ever happen?”

“My birthday. We slept together, remember?”

Your brows furrowing, you ask, “You’re the guy who brought me home that night?”

“Yes.”

You gasp aloud. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t remember a thing because I stupidly took my sleeping pills
and drank, unintentionally making me forget stuff.”

The others grumble upon hearing your explanation, “Hey! That wasn’t safe!”

“I know. I’m sorry,” you sigh.

“Good thing I was there,” Hoseok says, consoling, “Thank god.”

Biting your fingernail, you bashfully peek at him. “So we did—?”

Your other lovers await Hoseok’s answer and he only grins. “Well . . . you kinda forced me to.”

Quick as lightning, chaos governs; a bunch of complaints thrown here and there.

“And you never told me that hyung?!” Jungkook spits, nose fuming with mild jealousy.

Hoseok defends himself with a calm smile. “I thought she didn’t want me. She never contacted me
after that night. I thought she was regretting it. It didn’t seem right to tell anyone.”

You attempt to recall that night but nothing really rings a bell. “I really can’t remember anything
though. Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Hoseok coos lovingly, his eyes locking on yours. “I’ll just give you a new kiss to
remember instead.”

And then his lips unite with yours in a dreamlike kiss that has both your eyes shutting close
automatically. It’s gentle and warm and kind, just like Hoseok himself.

He smiles before twirling you once, your back hitting his chest, your hands still tangled together as
he sways slowly. Then he lets go of your right hand and whirls you to the other side; someone else
catching you as you bump onto his chest.

Namjoon.

He stares down at you and for a few seconds, you get lost in his gaze.

“Hi,” he greets, his manly voice sending shivers down your spine using that one word.

It takes you back to those times. Ever since you’re kids, you’ve pictured him as your groom a
couple of times that just by being in front of him like this feels surreal.

You’re suddenly too speechless, throat gone dry as you blink at him repeatedly.
“I told you that no matter what you do, I’d always be by your side. Thanks for letting me keep that
promise,” Namjoon says, “I can’t believe I’m finally ending up with my best friend.”

His big hands rest below your ear and before you know it, he latches on you, lips touching each
other for a quick few amazing seconds and then he pulls away.

“We’re really gonna grow old together now, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, looking at the others surrounding you. “Pretty much with six cranky
geriatrics more.”

Everyone cackles in agreement except for one person. Jimin.

Bothered, you go to him with a sigh, cupping his face as you scrutinize it. “Jimin, your eyes are
way too swollen now. Stop crying.”

Sniffing, he scrambles to dry his eyes. “I can’t help it. I love you.”

That’s when you decide to dive in for a peck, hoping that it’ll make him feel better. Afterwards,
you pull away with a smile. “I love you too.”

You exchange glances that convey way deeper emotions when someone suddenly hugs you from
behind, making you peer at him over your shoulder and there, Taehyung steals a quick kiss on your
nose and you turn to face him.

“Look, I can’t promise to fix all the problems this setup will bring. But I can promise you won’t
have to face them alone.” His lips curve into a smile. “I love you. I honestly never stopped.”

You cock your head. “Really?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Taehyung then leans down, lips pressing onto yours sweetly.

A loud clearing of the throat interrupts and you find Jungkook rubbing his nose innocently.

Yielding, you go to him and he pulls you to the center. He takes your hands, placing it around his
neck before he rests his on your hips, then slowly, his sneaky hands grope your ass.

You let out soft giggles at his coy ways. “Intern Jeon,” you feign rebuke, teasing.

“Where you go, I’ll go. Where you stay, I’ll stay,” he firmly states, “And even though you gave
me such a hard time at the hospital, ignoring me as an intern . . . it was worth it. You’re worth the
long wait, my first and last woman.”

Jungkook holds your face, angling it before he kisses you. And when your lips touch, you’re taken
back when he nibbles on your bottom lip and then he breaks away, tilting his head to the other side
before quickly moving in for another kiss—a passionate one—which has the others’ eyes widening
at how your lips interlock, meshing with each other as you get carried away for a moment.

With swollen lips, he pulls away from yours with a tug. “Oh god, I missed this lips of yours that
made me fly!”

You wipe the corner of his mouth which is slightly smudged with your lipstick before hugging
him. “I missed yours too, Kook.”

“Let’s put your bouquet in a vase, shall we?” he prompts and you nod; the others stepping out of
the gazebo, a few conversations arising.
Hoseok slings his arm on Taehyung. “You really came up with rings on pointer fingers, huh? Good
thing you knew our sizes.”

“Of course!” the younger asserts. “Besides, rings on ring fingers as a sign of love is overrated.”

But before any of you can get inside the cottage, Jungkook squawks, catching everyone’s attention
as he runs back to the gazebo collecting something.

“What is it, baby?” you ask, only to see him grinning big as he gathers different cameras which he
had seemingly scattered in the area.

“This is a special event. Of course, I won’t let this go to waste without any videos or photos.” And
then Jungkook immediately checks it, his nose scrunching in bliss, his shoulders going up in
delight as he re-watches the two of you kissing. It’s such a wonderful shot, your skins basking in
the sun’s golden hour light that he smiles in triumph; the six others envious.

Hoseok playfully hits him in the gut. “So that’s why you angled her before kissing, you shrewd
bunny!”

“You should’ve told me to angle her too, you selfish brat!” Seokjin fumes.

“I demand a retake!” Yoongi decrees, Jungkook sniggering.

“Hyung, the sun already set.”

“Fine, we’ll shoot another kiss tomorrow then.”

“No, let’s do it now.”

“Come on. Stop being so unfair!”

The seven of them chaotically argue while you could only look at the tiny screen, muttering with
the silly butterflies still taking over your tummy, “I’m gonna watch this every single day until my
hairs turn gray.”

Later on, while you’re all heading inside, you halt, raising, “Yeah, so I don’t wanna ruin this
beautiful moment . . . and it’s pretty much a little too late to ask, but you’re all single right now,
right? None of you are still in a relationship with somebody else?”

They exchange knowing glances before shifting their attention to you, laughing; Taehyung placing
his hands to massage your shoulders as he shoves you inside. “Seems like we got a lot of catching
up to do.”

A/N: *exhales proudly*

I want to be sorry for cutting you off with Thesis It’s Ending but I’m just so sure it’d be more
rewarding that way. And so I’m not sorry because Prove It’s Ending has always been something
sure even before I ended the prequel. Thank you for those that stick with me all throughout. For
those that trusted me. For those that gave it a chance even after the many heartbreaks I purposely
gave. I honestly hope it was worth your time. I hope this chapter was rewarding.

For those that would like to donate, feel free to share a ko-fi with me. THANK YOU SO MUCH.
Reblogs, comments, kudos are also very much appreciated.
After 49 chapters, I can say that this series has been the most challenging yet the most promising
one that I’ve created. It has been ongoing for 16 months and hopefully, we can finish this one by
June. Last two chapters await you, will this setup really work out until the end? Can we really let
go of the angst already or will there be more? >:)

Anyway, THANK YOU SO MUCH for staying with me. I love you.

PS: Feel free to compose questions—or if you have any—to our Prove It Characters. I think it’s
about time we open the ASK MY MUSE game. (AO3 readers can check my tumblr accnt if you
want to participate too)

Next on Prove It:

You peer up at them, grinning. “Who picked my wed—, I mean my choose-day gown?”

“Jungkook and I had ordered,” Hoseok hums in delight.

“Really?”

“Yes really.” Jungkook steals a quick kiss on your head. “D’you like it?”

“Absolutely!” you chirp, “I can sleep on it for the rest of my—”

“No, no,” he contests sweetly, “I think you’ve forgotten how we love you naked the most.”

“Now what’s a chooseday if there isn’t a choosenight?” Jungkook prompts with a coy bunny smile.

“A choose-night?” You giggle in amusement. They really outdid themselves this time.

“It’s basically the honeymoon, cupcake!” Seokjin enlightens you, his windshield wiper laugh
resounding; all of them getting on their feet without warning.

“Get ready,” Yoongi goads with a gentle smile. “We prepared a little something in your room.
Change into it and we’ll wait for you in the master’s bedroom.”

✁----------------------------------

[THE LAST INTERLOGUE]

AFTER THE PROSTI PARTY

“Namjoon, we need a plan,” was what Hoseok uttered on the other line, earning a low sigh from
Namjoon.

“I’m sorry,” the leader replied, “but if Seokjin-hyung wants to get married, it’s his choice. You
can’t just barge in and kidnap him. He’s not a kid to be kidnapped after all.”

And no matter how many times Hoseok tried to negotiate, Namjoon rejected all his ideas.

Time was ticking but BTS’ leader didn’t seem willing to cooperate. What another pain in the ass.

THE DAY AFTER THE PROSTI PARTY

Lying to you about going to work, Jaebum drove out of his place, heading somewhere to meetup
with an important person. Kim Namjoon.
After a quick sip on his coffee, your ophthalmologist friend was the first to speak, “Honestly, I’m
disappointed.” His words had Namjoon’s ears perking up. “Weren’t you the man who used to be
her best friend?”

Used to be. Three words that hit a raw nerve in Namjoon, his jaw clenched but it seemed like
Jaebum wasn’t finished.

“Weren’t you supposed to know her the best?”

His questions rendered Namjoon speechless, his fist crumpling in frustration. “What’s your point?”
he countered through gritted teeth.

Snorting, Jaebum replied stoically, “You should’ve been the one who reached out to her.” His
reproach went on, ignoring the vexation on BTS leader’s face. “You were all too blind to see that
she’s been fighting for that poly shit ever since college and even up until med school when she
should’ve just focused on herself in the first place.”

Fighting? What did Jaebum mean by that? Taken aback by the many things that he had never
thought of, Namjoon’s throat suddenly dried up, his ego stepped on. There might’ve been things he
wasn’t aware of, important things you hid from him back then.

“She could’ve loved herself more rather than being so insecure of herself now,” Jaebum chided, his
tone becoming stricter, his gaze shouting at him. “She keeps feeling that she’s not enough . . .” he
trailed off.

Feeling the liability on what happened, Namjoon’s gaze fell to the floor. The man sitting in front of
him had a point.

“When in reality, she’s been perfect all along.”

Everything Jaebum said was of pure genuineness. No trace of flattery or lies. He was so calm and
composed whereas Namjoon was struggling to keep it together.

“I always found it ironic,” Jaebum commented, sipping on his coffee once again. “Seven
boyfriends. Yet all of you failed to protect her. If I was hers—”

There was a sudden pause, a little slip of tongue before he brushed it off with a much proper
sentence. “If I was her best friend, I would’ve fought for her until the end.”

Sharp eyes narrowing, Namjoon taunted, “Cut the bullshit and get straight to the point.”

His statement drew a few sarcastic scoffs from Jaebum, a little smirk painted on his face. “Very
well,” he droned, eyebrows lifting as-a-matter-of-a-factly, “Do you honestly think you deserve
her?”

His question was so derisive that Namjoon grew stiff, his teeth chewing the insides of his cheek as
he tried to swallow that hard pill.

A few seconds went by but your so-called best friend still couldn’t answer, resulting for Jaebum to
flash his innocent eye smile at him.

“You’re right,” he concluded, startling Namjoon who hasn’t even said anything. “You probably
don’t.”

The tension thickened between them, Namjoon hating how Jaebum could read his mind.
“But that doesn’t matter because she stubbornly wants all of you up until the end but we both know
she won’t do something about it even if it kills her.”

Jaebum’s sheer knowledge about you had him jealous but he knew he couldn’t do anything about
it. It’s been four years, a gap that Namjoon couldn’t fill. If—

“I’m giving you one last chance,” he suddenly warned, snapping Namjoon out of his thoughts. “If
you guys don’t do something now. I swear to god, I won’t give her up to any of you. I’ll never let
you have her next time.”

There was no trace of humor in Jaebum’s eyes.

“Good luck,” he muttered before getting on his feet to leave the BTS leader who’s still conflicted
and caught off guard by what’s happening.

As Jaebum walked his way to the café’s exit, he came across another familiar face. Park Jimin.

It was a quick encounter, like a short pause as they walked past each other in the aisle.

“You,” Jaebum said softly, his lips curling into a half-smile that carried pity. “You don’t deserve
her at all.”

Shots fired. His declaration was like a dagger piercing right through Jimin’s core. It always hurt
hearing the truth from other people’s mouths—especially from someone you classify as a rival.

Your friend left nonchalantly as if Jimin never existed at all while your ex-roommate whose head
hung low—obviously defeated—walked towards where Namjoon was.

Sent by the others to personally apologize and fetch their leader, he stood in front of him, carrying
all the guilt he could ever collect.

Namjoon who’s still mad at him worded out, “What are you doing here?”

“Hyung, I’m sorry. Jaebum is right. I don’t deserve her,” Jimin croaked, on the verge of crying;
the pain in his eyes so evident. “But you guys do. We need to fix this immediately. We have to turn
this around before it’s too late for the six of you.”

Another deep sigh escaped Namjoon, his hands raking his hair in exasperation. “You’re all driving
me insane,” he huffed, unsure what to do after the many conversations he had today.

“Let’s do this,” he urged, eyes blazing with determination as he stared at Jimin. “One final
mission.”

TWO DAYS AFTER THE PROSTI PARTY

Invading Jaebum’s place, Yoongi asked you with stern eyes, “Are you really fine with losing all of
us . . . forever?”

You couldn’t answer, you’re too confused and overwhelmed by the situation when your phone
vibrates, Jaebum sending you messages.

granny
 they say you can’t win, if you don’t play the game.

How badly do you wanna win?

And that . . . was enough of a prompt to make you realize that you want to fight for them too.

***

TO BE CONTINUED.
 lemonade
Chapter Notes

⇢ Word Count: 18K

⌦ Warnings: bickering, dirtytalk, humor. this is a honeymoon smut, be prepared.

blindfolds, oral, hickeys, quickie, voyeurism, exhibitionism, unprotected sex,
threesome, sloppy seconds, orgy, creampie

⌦ A/N: I give you . . . a few drops of tears, a sprinkle of fluff, a kilo of smut and a
big surprise somewhere in between. The proper full OT7 smut that Thesis It didn’t
have. I hope I can make it up for the long semi-hiatus I had.

[F.U.C.K] Lemonade is obviously the juice from ‘lemons’. This is the by-product of the whole
lemon thesis-prove series. Will it be sweet or sour? Have a refreshing read!

The seven of them chaotically argue while you could only look at the tiny screen, muttering with
the silly butterflies still taking over your tummy, “I’m gonna watch this every single day until my
hairs turn gray.”

A few more press on the gallery’s toggle and you come across a picture where they’re all looking
at you while you’re looking at your ring. And then it hit you, your eyes trail after them—these
seven men that own your heart; the orange skies above slowly being swallowed by the darkness.

You swear it’s out of your control—you suddenly breaking down into tears. You cry. Sob. Weep.
Wail. All of those or whatever it is because you can’t describe what you’re feeling. It’s a mixture
of everything extreme and you can’t stop crying, your face tightly pressed on your palms.

The second they notice, they run to you, all worried.

Jungkook pulls you, your face gently pressed on his nape as he hushes you with a comforting
embrace, his arms wrapped around you as he rubs your back to calm you down. “Why, baby?
What’s wrong? Don’t you like the pictures?”

“Aiwhuvthdem,” you howl.

They’re all trading baffled looks when Namjoon sighs, translating, “She says she loves them.”

“Then why are you crying, baby? Are you alright?” Seokjin kisses your hair, waiting for your
answer.

“Aiemjazsxhsuhd.”

This time, they automatically turn to Namjoon.

“She says she’s just sad.”

Their noses crunch, all of them having a hard time in resisting to squish your cheeks at how
adorable you are crying like this. To the six of them, it’s probably a first time to see you throw such
cute tantrum; to Namjoon—who used to be your crybaby translator when you’re five, it’s a
comeback he never thought he’d ever get to witness again.

“Aww,” Jungkook pouts. “I’m sorry if the photos made you sad.”

But your face only twists further into frustration. A cute frustration to them.

It’s Taehyung who brazenly puts his hands on your cheeks, pinching it apart. “Doll, please no.
When I thought I couldn’t fall for you any deeper, you do this? I’m begging you, please don’t
make it too hard for us to get over this crybaby phase of yours. You look so fluffy. Let us live!”

You sniff as you attempt to stop crying and Yoongi reaches out to dry your tears, handling you as if
you’re fragile.

“I-I,” you sob but clearly this time. You can’t bear this any longer. It’s too heavy to suppress all to
yourself. “I just . . . I was so ready to see Seokjin with someone else. I was preparing myself to let
everyone go. I was, I was certain I’d at least ask for one last talk with everyone.”

{BGM: Happiest Year—Jaymes Young}

They all suddenly go silent, just drinking in your bittersweet words, their faces voided of any
emotions. They don’t like the sound of where the conversation is seemingly leading to.

“One last talk, huh?” Namjoon prompts, deadpan. You’ve had this unpredictable side of you ever
since.

You take courage and meet their gazes, your lips quivering as you make efforts to not burst into
tears again. “I just wanted to say . . .”

Tears unintentionally fall from their eyes despite all of them bracing themselves for what you’re
about to throw at them.

“I wanted to say that I never should’ve left,” you spill, crying yet again as your emotions rush in;
the regret too strong to handle. “I never should’ve said lemons. But maybe that’s what foolish and
coward people do.”

You inhale, holding in your tears as you exert yourself to continue. “Please,” you beseech, “Please
let me apologize. Properly this time. To all of you. For hurting you. For giving up. For leaving. For
leaving just like that. For pushing you away. For shutting you out when all you guys ever did was
love me completely. I’m so damn sorry.”

Remorse engulfs you, the back of your hand glued and covering your eyes that just wouldn’t stop
crying while you go on. “I just loved you all so much that I didn’t want you guys to waste your
future on me. I was scared to not be enough. I was scared that I might ruin you . . . I was
terrified,” you confess desperately in between sobs. “Too terrified that I left you without even
saying how grateful I was to be a part of your life.”

Watching you crying your eyes out in front of them like that has them crying in silence too.

“Thank you,” you cry, your shoulders heaving up and down insistently. “Thank you so much! Just
thank you.” Those words on repeat because that’s genuinely what you want to tell them. “Thank
you for those two happiest years of my life.”

Just like you, they’re all in tears; Namjoon’s chin protruding as he keeps his gaze locked on the
ground, Seokjin’s face contorting in sadness yet he’s still trying to counter it with smile when he
can. Taehyung’s trying to wipe his tears that flows nonstop while Jungkook’s crouching on the
floor as his watery doe eyes pointedly looking somewhere else. Yoongi’s nose reddens, his hands
covering his face. The same goes for Jimin who’s a crying mess trying to hide his face beside
Hoseok who’s sobbing so much, his entire body is crying along.

When you cry, they cry inevitably too because all the things they’ve been through after you broke
up with them weren’t exactly pleasant. It felt like hell without you in their life. And god they’ve
been dying just to hear those words from you. To hear your reasons. Your fears. Your regrets. Your
pains.

You almost really lost them. And now, you’re a hundred percent sure that there’s nothing more
scary than that. It’s so strange but your emotions just rockets when you think of that; tears wouldn’t
stop falling.

Out of the blue, Min Yoongi extends his arms, dragging you into his embrace. “We’ll make sure to
make those ‘two happiest years’ into seven happiest decades more.”

Out of place, you laugh at his statement despite the tears on your cheeks. You look at them,
sincerely look at them as you say, “I love you guys so much. So much. I promise I’ll be
stronger. Braver. I won’t run away when things get terrifying.”

“We’ll protect you,” Jungkook chants, getting on his feet to hug you too. “You’re under Jeon
Protection, remember?”

Now the conversation lightens up and you smile at them. “With the amount of martial arts and self-
defense I learned, it’s the seven of you under my protection now.”

Everyone chortles, the teasing and jokes bursting forth consecutively. Topics after topics, you
share secrets and happenings and anything under the sun.

Later on, while you’re all heading inside, you halt, raising, “Yeah, so I don’t wanna ruin this
beautiful moment . . . and it’s pretty much a little too late to ask, but you’re all single right now,
right? None of you are still in a relationship with somebody else?”

They exchange knowing glances before shifting their attention to you, laughing; Taehyung placing
his hands to massage your shoulders as he shoves you inside. “Seems like we got a lot of catching
up to do.”

***

It’s funny how you catch up as if you just pick up where you left off years ago, like no time had
passed you by; you all still feel the same, the love even stronger this time.

The sun has long set, the sky filled with twinkling stars. While they roast barbecues, cooking more
yummy food in the backyard, you peer up at them, grinning. “Who picked my wed—, I mean my
chooseday gown?”

“Jungkook and I,” Hoseok hums in delight.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” Swinging an arm around your neck, Jungkook steals a quick kiss on your head.
“D’you like it?”

“Absolutely!” you chirp, “I can sleep on it for the rest of my—”

“No, no,” he contests sweetly, “I think you’ve forgotten how we love you naked the most.” Pulling
you even closer, he brushes your hair behind your ear and kisses your lips this time, your cheeks
surprisingly searing red like a teenager. An inevitable effect of a certain Jeon Jungkook. Before the
kiss heats up—

“The food is ready!” Seokjin yells, the maknae breaking apart from you. “Help set the table.”

“Duty calls,” Hoseok coos, dragging Jungkook with him. “We’ll be back, peaches.”

It’s a simple but hearty feast and after eating, Jimin and Taehyung proceed to wash the dishes, the
others busy with cleaning up while you’ve unintentionally fallen idle, looking up at the night sky
with Namjoon who’s back hugging you on the balcony.

“Couldn’t have wished for anything more,” he says in an undertone, his voice gentle against your
ear.

You peer up at your best friend with a cheeky smile. “Really?” you tease, “Then what if the deities
offer to grant you three wishes?”

The conversation between you inevitably turns silly. This, too, is one of the many things you’ve
missed about Kim Namjoon.

He drones lightly, thinking for a quick second. “Then aside from what we have now, I’ll ask them
to let Bangtan have you two more times.” He chuckles softly at his own answer but you’re just left
there, staring at him in wonder.

“Two more lifetimes, if possible until eternity. But they might count that as cheating wishes, so
yeah. Two more lifetimes. I’ll let the others wish for additional lifetimes together.”

You’re at a loss for words, pondering. You must’ve saved a thousand lives or did enormous
sacrifices on your previous lives to deserve this happiness.

Before you can even utter a reply, Taehyung clears his throat behind you, stealing both your
attention. “Hyung,” he calls out and Namjoon just responds with a smile, kissing you on the
forehead before he steps back.

“I’ll go help out and make things chaotic inside, sleepyhead.”

{BGM: Sweet Night—BTS V}

“Hi,” his deep honeyed voice greets you along with his boxy smile. And instantly, you could only
pull him close to you, missing him so badly.

“Oh, my Taehyung,” you sigh into his embrace and he giggles, slightly swinging the both of you
side to side— lighthearted as always. “Tell me,” you trail off, meeting his gaze. “Are you over her?
We can talk about it, you know. Being cheated on is—”

He straight-out laughs. “You really are a dummy, aren’t you?”

“Ya, what did you say?” Creases form on your forehead; of course, you hate his cheating ex-
girlfriend but you need to make sure he’s okay and not hurting. “I’m trying to be nice and fair here
despite wanting to break your bones for being stupid.”

“I never got cheated on,” Taehyung divulges with a grin.

Stepping back, you cock your head in confusion. “W-what?”

Again, he laughs and hugs you. “Yeah, the truth is . . . I was never in any serious relationship after
you. You’re the one who’s so worried for me and jumped into conclusions on your own.”

“And you never told me?” Your eyes are sharp on him.

He chuckles in tiny, shoulders shrugging as he explains, “You’re cute when you’re worried . . . and
most definitely when you’re jealous.”

“I’m not,” you whine in a pout, your bluff has him raising his brows at you that your eyes shyly
dart somewhere else before you yield. “So I was a little jealous.”

Once more, Taehyung raises his brows in disagreement, making you roll your eyes in feigned
annoyance.

“Fine!” you exhale, crossing your arms over your chest. “Big time jealous. I was furious. You even
fucked in the hospital.”

“What?” he raises in bafflement. “We absolutely did not.” The agitation and sincerity is evident in
his eyes. “After sleeping with you that one time, I knew I had to cut her off. We just got into an
accident the next day and it made me guilty to say it so suddenly, so I waited for a week before
breaking things up.”

“So you mean—?”

Taehyung traps you in his arms again, pouting. “Whoever she screwed with was not me, you
jealous and overanalyzing woman.”
Still, you look at him with suspicion, not wanting to admit how narrow-minded you were.

Your chaos’ lips curve slightly to a smirk. “So that’s why you wanted to tear my arm apart that
day?” he probes, finally solving the mystery he never understood back then.

“Yeah, you jerk!” You hit his chest lightly, frowning.

“Aww, my baby doll,” he flaps lovingly, “You could’ve just told me you were jealous.”

Your face twists in displeasure. “Excuse me, fucking in hospital premises isn’t something to be
jealous of, that’s so—”

“We could’ve fucked during your breaks and we could’ve called Kookie to join—if only
you clarified things earlier,” Taehyung whispers playfully, your cheeks burning at his ideas.

“Shut up, you nasty human,” you cough, reluctant to lose the argument.

Your reaction has him cackling. Without a doubt, Taehyung misses arguing with you and he
comebacks by tightening his embrace; the both of you gaping at the bright moon above.

“I love you,” he breathes and you lean onto him, inhaling his sweet scent.

He’s always the first to declare that during random moments and you smile, saying his go-to
phrase for him instead, “To the moon and back?”

Starry-eyed, Kim Taehyung looks at you, his gaze filled with genuineness as he slowly brushes his
finger on your cheek. “No, I love you even more than that.”

Oh boy, did your knees almost give out, the butterflies devouring your whole system. In a trice,
your lips are pressed together in a dreamy sweet kiss.

After a couple of minutes of chatting and ironing a few misunderstandings, Taehyung takes you
inside, bringing you somewhere; the lights all turned off. “We want our four years back,” he
whispers lowly.

“What?”

His fingers intertwine with yours as you both enter a room. “We want it back. And so we’re turning
back time just for you.”

Then suddenly, through a projector, an hourglass on reverse flashes on the wall; a specific corner
of the room lighting up. There you see a small Christmas tree, gifts under it, the six others waiting
for you with big smiles.

You’re beyond confused; it’s too early for the holidays.

“W-what’s all—?”

Yoongi puts a red Christmas hat on you. “Merry Christmas, angel!”

And that’s when you realize what they’re up to: celebrating Christmas since you broke up with
them a few weeks before back then. As if on cue, they fish out tiny boxes of gifts, exchanging as
they burst into giggles while you’re empty-handed as hell.

“I, I didn’t know about—”

Namjoon hushes you. “It’s alright. You being here is the best present we’ll ever receive. Just enjoy
the ride, sleepyhead.”

Soon, the projector displays snow falling outside a window while a jolly holiday carol plays,
creating a very warm ambiance. Indeed, it feels nice. This is what Christmas truly feels like, unlike
the past few holidays you spent missing them.

A few seconds later and Hoseok pulls you to another side of the room, the Christmas lights fading
the same time the projector displays fireworks with a loud bang that it startles you; whereas, they’re
all holding onto little sparklers which they light up in their hands. Jimin reaches you one as they all
start a loud countdown.

They’re all so chaotic and everything’s happening in a flash but like what your best friend advised,
you just try to enjoy the ride.

Seconds before the clock flashing on the screen strikes midnight, they’re all suddenly showering
you with New Year’s Eve kisses that you’re left there chuckling and laughing despite the loving
disarray.

“Happy New Year!” they all greet, spitting random New Year’s Resolutions that’s never made to
be done and then the lights shut off, Seokjin dragging you to another spot in the room.

Every time they pull you somewhere, the light changes, the decorations varying as well. And in the
blink of an eye, it’s suddenly Valentine’s with them and they’re drowning you with chocolates. Not
long after, it’s celebrating birthdays with a blow of candle on top of a cake to make a silent wish,
followed by the traditional Halloween and of course, your anniversary. All that while the season
flashing on the projector transitions. And then it’s Christmas again. So on and so forth. All of you
running circles around the room with joyful laughters and giggles.

And all of a sudden, after another Valentines, Jungkook leaves the circle, going off to a different
room.

“Where—?”

Distracting you, Taehyung shrouds you with a jacket while the others seemingly put on fancy
neckties.

“Tae, what’s this for?” you query.

“Silly, did you forget? We’re gonna attend Jungkook’s graduation.”

You could only let out a soft chuckle as they take you into another room, only to find Jungkook in
his college toga on a mock platform in front as if taking his diploma from a mannequin that has
your college dean’s meme face pasted on it; the others even wiping imaginary tears as they take a
video of him.

“We’re so proud of you, Kookie!” shout Yoongi and Namjoon who apparently didn’t make it in the
real ceremony back then.

You turn to the maknae, suddenly teary-eyed as well. A tinge of regret washing over you as you
realize that you, too, really did miss that important moment of his life.

Walking towards you, Jungkook offers you his diploma and as you take it, he wipes your tears.
“You’ve always been my inspiration, baby girl. I love you.”
“Congratulations,” you mutter softly. “How I wish I could’ve been there and—”

He quickly pulls you in a tight embrace, cooing, “What’s important is you’re here now, my love.”

You’re really about to cry when they all suddenly sing another birthday song, hinting that it’s time
to continue the sequence. You cackle again, seeing the same cake you all share, the same candle
you all blow—over and over this whole turning-back-time ride.

Another round of celebrations and then it’s Valentine’s once again. Before you can even tease them
about being this romantic, they’re putting you in a toga. Unexpectedly, they’re all staring at you
with watery eyes, Kim Seokjin suddenly draping the pink stethoscope he gifted you on your neck
and you’re steeling yourself not to cry as a specific day comes into your mind.

Just like Jungkook, this must be your graduation day as a doctor and—

Seokjin tackles you with the biggest hug that you break into tears. Oh, how lonely was that day for
you. The agonizing melancholy of missing the seven of them and wishing they were there to
congratulate and hug you. Despite attaining that dream of yours, you were so depressed to the point
that it felt empty—achieving things without the people you love. Soon, you’re enveloped in a
warm group hug, all of them uttering words you’ve always longed to hear. Congratulations, doc.
We love you. We’re so proud of you. I can’t believe my girlfriend is a doctor now.

All those things that just make your heart so full.

Once more, the seasons change into winter and then it’s Christmas again. New Year. Valentines.
Another whole year with them packed in a few minutes, the current year flashing on screen and
then they’re pulling you onto the living room, the whole couch decorated like a boat or is that a
tiny cruise ship?

“Peaches, you deserve a summer vacation,” says Hoseok and you’re sniggering like a little girl.

Their whole gig stops at that, all of you cramming on the furniture together while they imaginarily
row.

“What a mind-blowing day!” you roar, filled with enthusiasm as you kiss all of them a thank you.
Undeniably, they’re really making up for the lost time and it’s the sweetest fucking thing—next to
the whole chooseday ceremony, of course. “That was amazing,” you singsong, “And romantic.”

“Jimin thought of it,” Taehyung reveals, earning a baffled expression on the other.

“D-don’t put too much credit on me. I just . . . I happened to come up with those things when we
became roommates,” Jimin sheepishly tells, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. The man can’t
even meet your eyes without blushing. “I always wanted to make it up to you.”

Truly, you appreciate this whole idea that your heart swells.

“But of course, we planned it out and got everything ready!” Seokjin humorously brags, not
wanting to lose the limelight too much and you all laugh. The man and his competitiveness when it
comes to tackiness never change.

“Now what’s a chooseday if there isn’t a choosenight?” Jungkook prompts with a coy bunny smile.

“A choose-night?” You giggle in amusement. They really outdid themselves this time.

“It’s basically the honeymoon, cupcake!” Seokjin enlightens you, his windshield wiper laugh
resounding; all of them getting on their feet without warning.

“Get ready,” Yoongi goads with a gentle smile. “We prepared a little something in your room.
Change into it and we’ll wait for you in the master’s bedroom.”

It’s already been one heck of a rollercoaster ride the whole day and they’re telling you there’s
more? Wow, you exhale, proceeding to that room they directed you to. A box greets you and as you
open it, you shake your head in a mixture of disbelief and awe.

When he said ‘little something’, you never thought he’d be so technical about it because this pint-
size lace lingerie is literally so tiny and sheer that if you wear it, you’ll probably leave nothing to
their imagination. It’s almost see-through that the only things it’ll hide are probably your nipples
and your entrance.

But alas, they’ve already prepared this much, it’s about time you give them the pleasure they
deserve.

***

Wearing the floral lace garter lingerie set—with a choker, you saunter into the master’s bedroom
where they’re all staying.

{BGM: Honeymoon—Johnny Stimpson}

As you step inside the room, their jaws drop the full nine yards, eyes wide and gleaming with
adoration.

“Wow,” Yoongi breathes.

Namjoon speaks softly, “Lingerie models can’t hold a candle to you.”

Sneering, you take a few more steps, teasing, “Something’s wrong with your eyes then. It’s just
me, guys.”

“No,” Yoongi argues, “Our eyes are functioning well. It’s your eyes that’s out of order. How can
you not see the amazing and gorgeous woman that the seven of us are dying to fuck?”

“You’re always such a smooth and dirty talker,” you mutter roguishly, walking over to the bed,
your heart beating loudly that you’re sure they can hear it.

When have you been this nervous around them?

Well, given the fact that it’s been a long time since you’ve been surrounded by these seven men
you love altogether, it’s probably normal to be anxious.

You sit on the edge of the bed, eyeing each and every one of them with a lustful expression but it
doesn’t even take a minute before Jungkook is latching on your lips aggressively.

“I’ve been patient enough,” he mutters, nibbling on your lips before his mouth peppers kisses
down your neck, drawing a loud moan from you.

Seokjin and Namjoon make their move, positioning themselves on each of your side; their hands
reaching to caress each of your breasts, rubbing your nipples coordinately while Jungkook kneels
on the floor, spreading your legs and planting his lips on your thigh, painting your skin with red
and purple bruises.
All the while, Yoongi attacks your open mouth, strangling the moans you’re producing as he takes
the spot behind you. Your back rests against his chest while Hoseok and Taehyung palm
themselves at the pretty sight of you being devoured by others.

Jungkook’s hand runs up your thigh, touching your pussy lips, arousing you. The two men jerking
have their cocks hard and ready, kneeling on each side of the bed. Without thinking twice, you take
hold of their lengths, stroking them both.

You’re almost taking them in your mouth when you notice Jimin leaning by the door frame. “Why
are you so far away from us?” you ask, your hands tightly wrapped around Hoseok’s and
Taehyung’s dicks, “Don’t you want me?”

Taehyung groans in response, “I think he wants you so much . . . but tries to be the bigger person,
letting us have you instead.”

Seokjin and Namjoon—who are toying with your nipples—exchange glances, the eldest prodding,
“Reminds me of how he had you all to himself.”

Jungkook stops running his tongue over your pussy, pulling away with a devilish smirk. “Why
don’t we punish our Jimin instead?” he teases, dropping honorifics all of a sudden.

And just like that, everyone’s naughtily ganging up on Jimin. Only then do you find out all the
things they’ve prepared for you. Cuffs. Blindfolds. Toys.

Instead of using it to you, they all agree to have the Park Jimin blindfolded and tied up on a
chair. Poor little creature, you giggle but keep it inside, knowing that the tables might turn any
time soon.

“How should we tease him?” Hoseok inquires.

The youngest answers with mischief, “How about we let him guess what we’re doing with our
beautiful girlfriend . . . based only on her moans and the sounds we make? If he fails, we won’t let
him cum. At all.”

With the evil maknae arising, the group laughs in chorus. That’s definitely something everyone has
missed.

“Call,” Jimin brazenly replies. “If I win, will you take off my blindfold? At least let me watch.”

Feigning sympathy, Seokjin pouts, squishing Jimin’s cheeks. “Aww, poor Jiminie. Sure thing,
we’ll let you watch. But that’s only if you pass.”

In silence, you’re guided further up the bed, Seokjin impulsively pushing your panties to the side
and sliding his finger to play with your clit. It feels so good, your panties getting so wet. Yoongi
comes over, kneeling between your legs and running his tongue over your slit. He continues to lick
you, his tongue working your pussy hard and you could already feel your body ready to explode.

You try your hardest to stifle a moan but it’s useless. Yoongi’s tongue just makes you go crazy that
a loud whimper escapes you. “Oh fuck!” you cry.

“Someone’s eating her out,” Jimin guesses, all your attention turning to the sub of the night.
Afterwards, Taehyung grabs your head, Hoseok on your other side. Wasting no time, you pull them
close, taking them in your mouth one at a time. You suck at Taehyung’s thick cock as quietly as
you can, alternating it with Hoseok’s thereafter. You slobber all over it, feeling hands mauling your
tits, aware of how all other cocks around you are solid rock. You love it.
Fondling your breast, Namjoon purrs nonchalantly. “How can you tell?”

Silently, Tae starts fucking your face while you stroke Hoseok; Jimin answering briefly, “Because
that’s how she moans when I lap at her pussy.”

Hearing his answers almost has you moaning again—on Taehyung’s cock this time, your throat
constricting, a subtle sound of you choking springs and Jimin smirks.

“She’s been missing all your cocks ever since. I’m so sure she’s gagging on someone’s cock right
now.”

It’s Jungkook who’s least preoccupied with masturbating that answers, “And why do you know
that?”

“Because she should’ve been screaming by now if not for a cock in her mouth.” Jimin’s voice
possesses so much confidence that you’re all somewhat amused; the youngest, reaching out to take
off his hyung’s blindfold.

“Well, that was quick,” Jungkook says, “I guess we can never toy with Park Jimin when it comes
to these naughty kinky things.”

“Nah,” Taehyung counters, “Just the perks of being fubu with your hot ex-slash-roommate for a
whole month. Lucky bastard.”

Before any of his hyungs shoot their load in your face, Jungkook stops them, pulling you towards
him like the spoiled maknae he is. “Now, let’s not forget that I graduated without receiving
that certain graduation gift.”

His remark has his hyungs grunting while you giggle at how he won’t let things go easily. Of
course, you remember the deal you had with them. You’d let them cum in you only after they
graduated. All of them have tried it though.

“Ya!” Taehyung argues, “Coming from you who fucked her raw in the laundry behind our
backs even before anyone can be her boyfriend?”

You giggle again. How can you ever forget that laundry sex?

“That was one time! And my graduation gift is way past the deadline!”

Now you feel bad for him instantly. “He’s right,” you reply, getting on your feet and walking in his
direction. “Where does my baby boy want me?”

Pleased, Jungkook perches on the couch, gesturing his finger in a come hither motion. “Sit on me,
baby. I want that pretty pussy right now.”

Damn, you’re awfully turned on, especially as you recall how much you’ve resisted and avoided
Jungkook despite secretly drooling for him during his whole internship.

With a sultry smile, you straddle him. And once you’re sitting down completely impaled on
Jungkook, you start grinding on his cock. Oh god, it’s incredible.

The soonest you ride him and build up a steady pace, the argument of who goes next dangles in the
air that listening to them makes the both of you groan inwardly. Thankfully, before you can scold
them, they’ve already settle it with an agreement.
“I think it’s best that those who haven’t had her should go first,” Namjoon proposes; Yoongi’s
gummy smile emerging as he chants a loud and happy ‘Ha!’ as if he already won a lottery. It’s a
fair proposition after all.

As they sort the group, dividing themselves between team who-luckily-had-you and team who-
truly-suffered-without-you; Jimin—who’s still tied up—automatically the leader of the first team
and Jungkook—who’s obviously having the time of his life as you bounce on him—being the
leader of the latter, Seokjin, Yoongi and Namjoon immediately gathers near Jungkook to wait for
their turn. While Taehyung is in full-pout as he’s pushed to accompany Jimin in the corner and
then there’s Hoseok, confused as to where he’s categorized so you speak out.

Clinging onto Jungkook’s neck, your hips unceasingly moving, you raise, “But I haven’t had
Hoseok.”

Yoongi seethes, “You don’t remember having him but I’m pretty sure that guy remembers every
bit of your naked body that night.”

Sharp and narrow eyes are sent flying to Yoongi, Hoseok acting all betrayed and upset.

“Misery loves company,” Taehyung taunts, pulling Hoseok to their side; Jungkook and you
continuously fucking like rabbits tangled up.

“You must’ve loved how wild a drunk-doll is,” Taehyung queries despite his eyes glued on where
you and Jungkook unite.

“She really was a different kind of drunk that night. A mixture of an adorable yet naughty and
honest and sweet and sexy peaches.” Lustful eyes darted on you and Jungkook as well, Hoseok
moistens his lips. “Finding out that I was her first fuck after four years, yeah. I loved it. I had the
whole night carved in my brain.”

Taehyung quickly pouts. “And I thought I was the first!”

As if recalling that night, Hoseok whimpers, eyes closing at the image of you. “Peaches was so
tight that night. Fuck.”

The others patiently wait while Jungkook’s head falls back—in seventh heaven. “This must be
what a real honeymoon feels like,” he groans, his hands yanking you by the ass. “My beautiful
baby girl riding me as she clenches her pussy because she’s too excited to get many cocks tonight.”

Unsatisfied with the sounds you’re making, Jungkook toys with your clit, knowing how it affects
you.

“Kookie,” you whimper. With his good rhythm going, it’s not going to take you long to cum.

“It’s okay, baby. Go ahead and make a mess,” he coos, “Cum for me, please?”

There and then, you feel a huge orgasm rifle through your core. Feeling your release, Jungkook
tenses up and follows, finally shooting his load inside you; all pent-up desires dissipating in the air
as the both of you relish the post-orgasmic bliss.

With his stamina, fucking Jungkook will never be not challenging. But it’ll always be worth it.
Still, he catches the slight exhaustion in your face, carrying you and laying you down the bed as he
kisses you on the forehead.

“I love you,” he says and you say it back with a smile.

“Congratulations, intern Jeon,” you tease.

Surely, the winning team has already decided on who goes next; Namjoon crawling to you. He
turns you to your side and back hugs you, the both of you facing Jimin who’s still tied up and
painfully erect by what he’s witnessing.

His nose nuzzles your neck, his fingertips slowly dancing against your thigh as he hums, “I missed
you.”

“I missed you—”

Cutting you off, Namjoon whispers, “You don’t know how badly I wanted to fuck you in my
bedroom last time.” Yes, you’re caught off guard by his confession but aside from that, it’s his
manly voice sending shivers to your spine.

Thereafter, he’s lifting your thigh, purposely displaying your pussy for everyone to see; a chorus of
groans vibrating in their throats and as he boldly fingers you, Jungkook’s cum dribbling out.

Yoongi squeezes his dick. “Fuck, angel. You’re so pink.”

But Namjoon doesn’t get distracted by any of them, his tongue sliding on your neck up to your ear.
“Have you been a good, little girl?” he queries.

Your body is burning up again, your eyes heavily shutting. “Y-yes, daddy.”

Oh, how much have you missed this! Their dominance. Their control.

“But I heard you let Jimin call you names?” he unexpectedly brings up, your eyes peeling open as
you look at Jimin. “That means you weren’t being good.”

Letting out a sigh, Jimin accounts, “In my defense, she wanted me to call her that.”

“Well, I did love hearing him call me that but—”

“You missed my cock?” Namjoon randomly asks, rubbing his erection against you that you moan.

“Yes, definitely.”

“Then we’re settling scores with Jimin,” your best friend decrees as he enters you, stretching your
pussy once again.

You moan, feeling his cock reach that one fucking spot he loves to hit. He penetrates you over and
over again, owning you like it’s the first time once again—it’s heavenly.

“Look at him,” Namjoon coos, directing you to Jimin, “—he must be dying to fuck you now.”

“I am,” Jimin quickly admits and Namjoon snorts at that.

“If only you’ve been good to our girl, Chimchim.”

You couldn’t care less about what they’re talking about, all that matters is that you’re reaching
another climax with every thrust Namjoon gives you. With his fingers tweaking your nipples that
surely pushes you to the edge quicker, your walls are tightening, your stomach coiling—

“Hyung, I tried,” Jimin contests, “but she kept on provoking me.”

Your ears perk up along with your brows. “Provoking you? When did I ever provoke you, Park?”

“Oh yeah?” he taunts back, “D’you want me to tell them how you slept with Jaebum?”

For a few heartbeats, all movements halt as they send you their scowls. “You what?” they growl in
sync.

O-oh, you swallow thickly. Even though Namjoon’s behind you, you can already imagine how his
jaws clench, his nose fuming in jealousy.

You gasp at how Namjoon plunges his cock in you without warning; you can feel it in your belly.
He starts fucking you so hard that you’re certain walking will be a hard task for you tomorrow and
the next days to come.

Grasping the sheets, you whine, “J-Jimin, stop over exaggerating, I did not. He just—”

“He slept in my apartment,” Jimin lightheartedly expounds, “With her.”

Now it suddenly feels like a lawsuit, the whole room turning into a court as the others assess the
case that Jimin just laid out; Namjoon slipping out of you and settling to just play with your clit
instead.

You roll your eyes at Jimin. “I think you should’ve emphasized ‘slept’ rather than ‘with’.
Because literally sleeping was all that actually happened—”

“They apparently slept in the living room. But Jaebum was topless when I came in,” Jimin spits
bitterly, spilling the details as if he’s his a professional prosecutor, “And your little girl was fast
asleep on the couch, her body splayed carelessly that anyone would’ve wanted to fuck her raw.”

With strict brows raised as if he’s the mighty judge, Namjoon interrogates, “Is that true?”

“Lies, your honor.” The banter becomes playful, you insisting your side. “Well, I was asleep. I
didn’t know!”

“She wasn’t wearing a bra, your honor!” exclaims Jimin.

Again, a chorus of ‘you what?!’ echo from Taehyung, Yoongi, Jungkook and Namjoon—all men
who are surprisingly finding Jaebum as a threat.

Seeing the look on their faces, Jimin chuckles softly “Oh, this is fun.” He shrugs his shoulder,
teasing, “I’m sorry but I’m sure they’ll understand my side, kitten.”

Flippantly glaring at him, you hiss, “You—!”

Two slender fingers pushed inside your pussy make gasp, your mouth ajar at the sudden onslaught.
You slowly glance at Namjoon over your shoulder.

“Did you apologize to Jimin, little girl?” His fingers curl inside you, hitting your g-spot and making
you mewl.

It’s confusing—one second they’re against each other, another second they’re teaming up against
you.

“I-I tried, daddy . . . but he didn’t seem to want my apology then.”

Jimin butts in with a cute pout, “Well, I do want it now.”

“Ji, I’m so—”

“I think you should sincerely apologize with your mouth, little girl,” Namjoon concludes with a
smirk. “Jiminie’s cock probably needs your mouth wrapped around it more. Right, chim?”

Jimin nods instantly, a twinkle in his eyes as the others untie him so he can go to you; his cock
straight out at your mouth level.

Despite Namjoon’s constant penetration, you take Jimin in your mouth, running your tongue
around the head before taking the whole shaft deep in.

“Shit,” Jimin coils, a sweet moan drawn for his lips as you suck him in.

But a few moments after and you gag, the friction in your core putting you over the edge. Namjoon
just feels so fucking amazing inside you that your body gives in to the pleasure.

Reading your expression, Jimin considerately pulls out, figuring that you’re about to cum. He
strokes himself as he watches you fall apart. The both of you have used toys, subconsciously
compensating how you miss the others and now, it just feels so right to have everyone around.

There it is, Namjoon’s low loud groan—your sweet name chanted as he pushes one last hard thrust,
painting your walls white as you orgasm on his cock just the same.

You’re always so beautiful when you come that Jimin loses it. Watching you in state of ecstasy
triggers his own release, his jizz unintentionally spewing all over your face that you gasp in
surprise.

“Sorry, doc.” Jimin murmurs, his thumb grazing your swollen lips. He’s about to wipe you clean
but you insist.

“It’s alright, Ji. I love it. Just wished you let me swallow,” you whisper.

Your best friend slips out of you, drained and sated. Catching your breath, you lay back too, your
hair splayed on the pillows and in a flash, Seokjin’s handsome face greets you.

“Tired, cupcake?” he asks, hovering above you, his eyes trailing on the droplets splattered on your
face.

“Are you underestimating me?” you tease, earning a soft giggle from him.

He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t dare.”

Before you know it, he’s scooping Jimin’s cum from your face and smirks. The simple expression
on his face tells you his next move. You open your mouth willingly and he offers his cum-coated
fingers, letting you suck it. Afterwards, he licks the seam of your lips, his tongue sneakily entering
and swirling inside your mouth.

Seokjin likes it messy, that you can’t forget.

Pulling away for air, he stares at you fondly as if he still can’t believe you’re his.

Before he turns sentimental, you openly say, “Seokjin, I want your cock in me,” your arms
wrapping around his broad shoulder.

He smirks before planting his plump lips on yours, his tongue sneaking inside your mouth again
and you both fight for dominance while his big hands grope your breasts.
“You want me to ruin you, sweetheart?”

“Yes, please,” you yearn, needy.

His hands grab your legs, wrapping it around his waist. Afterwards, he uses his thumbs to part your
entrance, his eyes drawn to it—addicted. “Such a pink pussy filled with cum.”

He scoops the others’ cum back inside you before aligning his cock and the soonest you feel his
angry tip pressing, you’re already whimpering in excitement.

“Aahh! Seokjinie.”

He slips inside you, bottoming out and it never fails to amaze you; Seokjin fucking you missionary
after a long time.

“Fuck,” he grunts, his hips slapping against your skin; the sloppy sounds arising.

He grabs one of your legs and slings it on his shoulder, adjusting you as he pushes in and out of
you deeper this time. You moan, his cock hitting your velvety walls.

“Your pussy is always paradise, baby. How can you still be so fucking tight?” Seokjin says, his
other hand fondling your tits.

“Yeah. It’s paradise.” Taehyung comments, his hand turning invisible as he jacks off at the sight of
you being used by his hyung. “That’s what I felt when we did it. That pussy will always be the
death of me.”

His hips don’t falter; Seokjin turning to him. “Wanna taste her, Tae?”

“Fuck, yeah. You’ll really let me, hyung?”

The eldest has always been the type to break rules. Smiling at the younger, he asks, “Are you sure?
She’s filled with—”

“I’m a thousand percent sure. I’ll eat her, every part of her, even if all your cum ooze out of that
pussy. I’ll hungrily lap at it.”

Taehyung’s dirty talk sure has everyone fired up and hornier that it’s not surprising that Seokjin
unexpectedly blows his load inside you, initiating your own release with a loud cry.

“Seokjin!” you moan, hands fisting the sheets as your body thrash in another explosive orgasm.

Mixed juices. Jungkook’s. Namjoon’s. Seokjin’s. And yours. And it’s as if that’s still not enough of
a mess for the eldest. Disregarding your sensitivity, he fingers you.

“Fuck, baby, Please,” you beg but he’s unwavering.

A few in and out, Seokjin pulls out his fingers and reaches it to Taehyung. “You’re welcome,
Taetae.”

And the younger pulls it in his mouth, sucking on it without thinking twice. “Damn, my favorite
taste.” Taehyung remarks, “Reminds me of how wild doll was that night I fucked her six ways
from Sunday.”

Defensive, you hiss, “Yeah because you kept bragging your woman in my face.”
“The woman I was bragging was you, you dummy.” Taehyung makes face at you, taunting, “I told
you I can’t forget her. You’re her! You’ve been jealous to yourself all along.” Then he childishly
sticks out his tongue at you.

You mirror his expression. “Still, you paraded an annoying girl on my face. Just like Yoongi,” you
tease, dragging the quiet one in the conversation. “I even taught Elle fucking tips how to blow you,
genius.”

“Is that so?” Yoongi attacks you with kisses and tickles you, earning a few loud giggles from you
but then a light bulb pops inside Jungkook’s mind.

“Ya, if Tae’s gonna be punished for parading some girl . . .” the maknae trails off, all ears
suddenly on him, “Why is Yoongi-hyung in the team who-truly-suffered-without-you when he
didn’t suffer that much because he had—?”

Yoongi suddenly shouts, miserably yet comically, as if censoring Jungkook’s statements. For all
you know, he’s embarrassed of having someone else. But as if on cue, Taehyung and Hoseok—
with cheeky grins—are pulling Yoongi away from you and onto their losing side to punish him as
well; all that while the pianist screams a beseeching ‘Noooo! The deal was who had her and who
didn’t, you fools!’

But none of them are willing to let him off the hook.

You can only laugh at how the others look like. Like heaven and hell, it’s as if there’s an invisible
barrier, a comical division sorting them like the rich and the poor.

During the others’ continuous debate, the maknae tilts your chin, reverting your attention back to
him. He kisses you, nibbling on your lips as if he still hasn’t had enough. It’s amazing how easily
you get lost in his perfect kisses, your eyes shutting in bliss as his mouth moves to tackle your
neck, his teeth grazing your skin.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he whispers and you obey straightway, getting on all fours;
stealing everyone’s gazes.

Jungkook shamelessly goes again, inserting his thick cock in your battered pussy in one swift
move. Feeling all the mixed juices spilled inside you trickling, you whimper in pleasure while his
eyes dart to Hoseok. He pulls you by the hair, your bodies aligning as he thrusts in and out of you,
saying, “Let me fuck you in front of Hobi-hyung as revenge.”

His demanding voice inexplicably arouses you, making you torture your bottom lip as you nod,
yielding to whatever it is he asks.

“He didn’t even tell me he was with you on his birthday, plus, he ignored my messages and
hangout invite.”

It’s so childish that Hoseok almost chuckles at it. “I’m sorry, Kookie. I didn’t—” Distracted at how
Jungkook plays with you, he swallows a thick lump in his throat and exclaim, “Damn, you’re
fucking her so hard!”

Again, Jungkook bites your neck playfully, marking you and you moan, “You know I love it hard,
Hoseok-nim.”

Growing lowly, that word always has an impact for Hoseok. He wants to reach out and play with
you too but Jungkook wraps his arms around your body possessively. You fail to even notice
anything, the sensation of being fucked keeping you preoccupied.
Too bad Jungkook wouldn’t let him lay a hand on you—especially not right now when he’s
claiming you his and avenging himself. Moistening his lips is the only thing Hoseok can do as he
watches, his cock painfully erect.

“Kookie, please,” Hoseok yearns, sucking air through gritted teeth. “It’d be great if you at least let
me have her mouth like what Jimin had?”

The man pounding you from behind smiles. “Fine. Since I didn’t have any birthday gift last time,”
he concedes before side-glancing to you. “Suck hyung,” he demands, keeping his pace and
continuously fucking you. “We’ll give him a belated gift. D’you want that?”

You vigorously nod, your lust and exhibitionism transpiring. Jungkook lets you go, your hands
dropping to the mattress but his cock doesn’t stop. He glances at Hoseok, signaling with a nod.

Hoseok walks over the edge of the bed, cupping your face gently; the sight of his hard and veiny
cock making your mouth water. You look up at him, your lips parting in anticipation.

“Hoseok-nim,” you beg and he doesn’t think twice to stick his length between your lips.

The moment you’re spit-roasted, the other five groans, aroused once again.

“That’s it, peaches. Suck it,” Hoseok goads, his hand gentle atop your head while you’re gagging,
taking every inch of him down your throat while Jungkook digs his hands on your waist, his
rhythm quickening as he, too, watches you deepthroat Hoseok.

The three of you move in coordination. Every time Jungkook thrusts, you take Hoseok deeper and
his hips meet your mouth but when they both suddenly stay still, you know they’re teasing,
wanting you to be in charge. So you do, you slide backwards, forming friction; your pussy sucking
Jungkook in and he groans. Afterwards, you slide out and that’s where you suck in Hoseok.

This is the kind of activity you’ve definitely missed. All hardcore workout routines you’ve grown
accustomed to wouldn’t make up for the thrill of having them like this. One after the other. Or
better yet—at the same time.

The others stare in awe, wishing that they’re either one of those two. It goes on for a few minutes.
Even though Hoseok’s extremely long, you have no problem going down it; the problem is
Jungkook fucking you balls deep causing your jaws to jar that it drains your energy and when they
notice it, Jungkook quickly picks up his pace. And then they’re fucking you simultaneously once
again.

Altogether, they come with sensual groans, your name on their lips as they fill you up; Jungkook in
your pussy, Hoseok in your mouth.

“Shit, yes. Swallow everything I give you, peaches.” Hoseok gazes at you as you clean off his
cum, not even one drop wasted—that’s how insatiable you are.

Meanwhile, Jungkook rides through his orgasm, still rock hard even after milking himself inside
you. A few seconds after and he collapses behind you, dragging you down the bed with him and
embracing you.

“Wanna go again?” you jest, resting on his chiseled chest.

Jungkook looks at you and smiles. “Sure, just gimme a minute.”

You laugh at him, hitting his chest. “I was kidding, you sex beast.”
“Well, I wasn’t.”

“Your sex drive really is something,” you comment, remembering how he always last the longest.
Round after round, you used to consume each other’s energy and he’s still barely sated.

“Nah, I just really miss you so much.”

“Well, I do miss all of you too.” Your eyes roaming around to look at them sincerely, your gaze
randomly stopping at Yoongi.

“I miss you too,” Yoongi replies, leaning closer to you. When he’s about to kiss you, they block
his lips with their hands, playfully teasing him again with a ‘Those that had other women can’t kiss
her tonight.’ And you erupt in laughter.

To be honest, it’s all in the past for you. You broke up with them knowing the consequences and
possibilities of them replacing you. You’re to be blamed and there really are no grudges in your
heart but it’s just entertaining to watch the seven of them argue like this.

Eyes narrowing, Yoongi clicks his tongue, forcefully snatching you away from the spoiled and
bratty maknae. Caging you in his arms, he peers at you, assuring, “I told you already, haven’t I?”

In fact, you’ve actually talked about this during the whole ride but you can see the others behind
him signaling you to shake your head that it makes you hold in a smile, choosing to stay silent and
somehow going along. They must’ve missed pissing off Yoongi so much and you find it endearing.

Yoongi sighs, willing to go over this topic again. “Angel, my love for you never changed.”

However, Jungkook and you—who witnessed Yoongi with Elle—teasingly exchange knowing
glances as if not convinced, making the pianist groan inwardly.

“Elle was just . . .” he trails off, thinking of an explanation, “When I look at her, I think of you
‘cause her smile—”

You smile subtly, though it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah I’ve been told. A lot of times,
Yoongs.”

Noticing the thin loneliness in your expression, Jungkook takes his hyung’s side all of a sudden,
“She’s just your lookalike, baby.”

And the rest are suddenly quizzical, unbelieving, “Oh, really?”

“You be the judge!” Jungkook challenges and browses group photos at the hospital to show the
others. They huddle around to take a look but when they see it, most aren’t that convinced. Hence,
Yoongi fishes his phone and toggles onto his gallery; a few photos of Elle where she’s smiling
exactly just like how you smile were there.

And then they’re all dumbfounded.

“Wow,” Seokjin comments in awe, all of you waiting for his response. “I can’t believe you still
haven’t deleted her photos.”

The eldest’s laugh fills the air; Yoongi’s immediately shooting him daggers for attempting to
worsen the situation while everyone stares at the pianist with comical hesitation.

“Why would he delete photos of his fiancee?” you add teasingly and his face twists in annoyance.
Rolling his eyes, Yoongi argues, “God, she’s not my fiancee. I never even proposed!”

The others are still busy checking out the photos, their eyes comparing you and her.

“Wow, she really has your smile!” Seokjin comments for real this time, “I would’ve—!”

Your brows raise and then you’re glaring as if daring him to continue what he’s saying. “You
would’ve what?”

The eldest gulps down nervously and chuckles. “I would’ve asked for a selca and zoomed in on her
smile just to see your smile in her.”

Yoongi laughs at that, happy to have the others’ sympathy.

Instead of dwelling in the past and the sad fact that Yoongi almost got ‘engaged’ to someone else,
you decide to look at the bright side, the part where you have them here with you once again.
They’re yours and you’re never letting them go again.

You lively humor, “Well, you don’t need stupid stuff like that now. I’ll fill all your gallery with my
face. I hope you won’t get fed up.”

“Never in this lifetime, sleepyhead.”

The comical teasing carries on, everyone laughing their asses out as you talk about this and that
while cuddling in bed. It’s the first time you reunite with them altogether and seemingly, you can’t
help but get lost in conversations and jokes and catching up.

Or perhaps, they’re just entertaining you with stories to let you rest. Sure, they miss you—
physically, emotionally and sexually—but they know how overwhelming it is to have seven men
missing you so desperately. You’ve been insisting to continue the honeymoon but they can see
through your tired eyes. Hence, they keep interrupting it with jokes until you fall asleep on
Yoongi’s chest.

***

Your lids that are drooping and leaden with sleep snap open when you realize that you’ve fallen
asleep in the middle of catching up. Sitting up, you rub the remainders of sleep from your eyes but
you notice the whole room is now in complete darkness—all lights turned off, the moonlight out
the window the only light you have. You also feel a warm robe draped on you.

How lucky you are to have such caring boyfriends?

But apparently, the nap you had completely turned into a deep sleep and you hate yourself for it.

“Baby doll, are you up?” you hear Taehyung whispering from your left.

“Yeah. Why didn’t you guys wake me up? It’s our honeymoon! Why was I sleeping!” you seethe
in a whisper.

Propping himself to sit up beside you, he chuckles softly. “You’re sleeping so soundly. We decided
to call it a day and just—”

You shut him up with a kiss. “You cowards,” you scoff teasingly and he smiles.

“Can you still play with me?” he asks.

“Of course.”

The both of you converse as quietly as you can, careful not to disrupt the others’ slumber.

“Are you sure? Or we can just—”

“I’ve been honestly dying to fuck you too, Tae.”

“That’s good to hear, baby. But we better keep it down. Yoongi, Hoseok and Jimin will probably
beat me up if they find out I’m getting laid tonight.”

You snicker at his ridiculousness but nevertheless, sit on him in a flash. You’ve already wasted
what seems to be hours and you’re certainly not willing to waste more.

He groans, his cock quickly hardening under you and it’s you and your mouth to be blamed. It feels
like forever since the last time you’re making out like this. Sneaking mischievously like teenagers.

“Baby, we gotta do this quickly,” Taehyung mutters, scrambling to take out his cock from his
boxers and you nod, agreeing to anything he asks of you.

He slides your robe down your shoulders, revealing your naked body covered with love bites.
Giving you a quick and cute lick in the neck, he inquires, “Are you wet enough for me, baby?”

“Tae, you know I’m always wet for you.”

At the same time, he groans at the sight of your breasts. Unable to resist, he wraps his mouth
around your nipple. Humming in satisfaction, he lifts you, positioning his cock in your entrance
and you drop on him, the two of you stifling moans of pleasure.

You both move, chasing that orgasm you both want, your bodies addicted to each other.

A few moments pass by and your legs are getting tired so you decide to sit and rock yourself
instead of bouncing. Taehyung on the other hand, lies down fully; you lean forward, your hands on
his chest as you use him like a toy.

“D’you mind if I join?”

You turn to the silhouette that you’re sure belongs to you. Even in the partial darkness, you can
make out the gummy smile painted on his face. He goes behind you, giving you a sweet kiss on the
cheek as he greets you a subtle ‘good morning, princess.’

Soon enough, the chaste kiss turns into a heated one while Taehyung resumes his movements.

“Hyung, if you wanna join, you better be quiet.”

“Those guys haven’t slept for days too. Pretty sure they won’t wake up easily,” Yoongi answers,
“Where do you want me?”

You turn to him, smirking. “In my ass,” your answer earning low groans from the two.

“My my, what a wicked angel I have,” he teases yet he slips his fingers in your mouth. You suck on
it and afterwards, he slides that spit-coated finger in your hole.

“Oh, Yoongi,” you purr as he stretches you out while Taehyung fucks you rapidly.

“I miss your tight little brown bud, angel.”

He adds another finger and when he’s sure you’re ready, you feel him from behind stretching your
asshole. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this. You feel so fucking good,” he whispers.

“Fuck, hyung. I can feel her tightening,” Taehyung reveals and now being fucked by two cocks,
stifling moans become more challenging than ever.

“You love it when we fuck you in the ass, don’t you?” Yoongi breathes, meeting Tae’s every
move.

“I love it, especially when I have another cock in my pussy.”

Your filthy mouth just drives them crazy, fueling their inner demons to fuck you senseless. Truth
be told but there’s always something so slutty and erotic about having your holes fucked all at
once. This has always been one of the highlights of your poly relationship and reveling in it has
always been addictive.

“Don’t stop,” you beg between moaning. “I’m gonna cum.”

And in no time, they unload all their bottled sexual longings and desire, shooting down their cum
in your pussy and ass.

It seems like Yoongi and Taehyung crave for you deeply and having you was enough to give them
a goodnight sleep. You let them be, planting a quick kiss on their cheeks.

A couple of minutes pass by but all efforts to sleep fail you. You still can’t believe this great
amount of happiness you’re experiencing that it suppresses your sleepiness. Or perhaps, there’s a
tiny thing bothering you, something not sitting quite right. Whatever that is, you still can’t
determine.

Thirsty, you get up, grabbing your robe to cover your bare body as you head to the kitchen for
water but as you step out of the room, the lights are already open and you see Jimin by the kitchen
counter.

“Ji,” you mutter, “What are you doing out here?”

The still-topless man only smiles at you, his eyes disappearing as he returns the question, “What
are you doing out here?”

You toddle to his direction, wrapping your arms around his torso in a back hug; his fingers gently
brushing your arms.

“I wanted water,” you softly say.

“Let me get—”

“But now I want something else,” you cut him off, catching him off guard as your hands slowly
crawl down his toned abs.

Jimin hums. “What does my ki—, my love wants?”

You halt at his correction.

This. This must be what’s bothering you. Jimin.

No matter how much he veils it, you can still discern his uneasiness. “Oppa,” you singsong
lovingly that he suddenly tenses up. “I still want to be your kitten. I miss being called ‘kitten’. In
fact, I’ve always been craving to hear you call me that.”

He turns to face you with eyes unsure. “But—”

“Just promise me you’ll never call anyone else ‘kitten’ ever again,” you bargain with kitten-like
eyes, your finger doodling random patterns on his chest.

Lower lip sandwiched between his teeth, Jimin looks at you; his gratefulness mixed with awe at
how understanding and forgiving and adorable you are taint his expression. He grabs your hand
and kisses your knuckles. “I promise.”

You smile at him, your free hand sneakily snaking down his pants as your smile turns into a
naughty smirk. “Now, back to what your kitten wants,” you purr, palming his bulge. It’s not like
you’re that insatiable or what. It’s just that you want to make him feel good since he’s been
punished and teased the whole time. Plus, you’ve been missing him a lot too.

With your hand slowly grasping his length, Jimin lets out a soft snort, collecting your mischievous
hand; hence, you pout in discontent.

“Don’t start with me,” he says, sweetly reproaching, “Especially when we both know how tired
you already are.”

“B-but I’m not tired,” you bluff, concealing the soreness of your body.

Jimin plants a kiss on the top of your head. “There’s no point in lying, kit. You’re exhausted, aren’t
you?”

Your frown deepens. “So what? You won’t fuck me if I am?”

He stares at you and flashes a smile before he’s lifting you by the ass and sitting you atop the
kitchen counter. “I’ll eat you out instead.” His hands spread your legs, your exposed pussy arousing
him in a trice.

Blushing furiously, you’re suddenly embarrassed, your thighs trying to close but he prevents it
from doing so. “Jimin,” you protest weakly, finding his proposition unfair because it defeats your
sole purpose of wanting to pleasure him. In addition to that, you’ve honestly lost count of how
many times they made you orgasm today. You want to give back.

But Jimin doesn’t waver; his hand firm on you as he kneels. His plump lips begin peppering kisses
on your leg, his nose nuzzling your skin, inching bit by bit until he reaches a specific spot on your
thigh. He bites it, drawing a soft whimper from you, your fingers tugging his hair to stop him from
reaching your entrance.

His eyes darken, his lips in a lopsided smile as if telling you that there’s nothing stopping him and
before you know it, his tongue is licking a strip on your slit, making you mewl.

“It’s the least I can do,” Jimin whispers, his eyes glued to yours. “I’ve had you all to myself for
more than a month. We’ll let the others catch up, kit.”

And then he’s back into worshiping your pussy, tongue lapping your entrance, sucking in your clit
as he keeps gazing up to you. The way your eyes roll into the back of your head and the sensual
moans you make aren’t enough for Jimin. It’s as if he wants you to melt under his tongue and give
him every love juice you can offer.

You do. You burst into a heavenly orgasm, your eyes seeing stars as you sigh in relief and Jimin
drinks you all in.

Damn, after all that amazing fucking session you had, it’s only when Jimin carries you to the
bathroom and cleans you up that you begin to feel how wobbly and sore beyond belief you are—
the exhaustion kicking in. Seemingly, he knows your body a little better than you do. He gets you a
comfy pair of pajamas and dresses you up before carrying you to the bed.

Jimin takes you into his arms, cuddling you just like how he always wanted to back when you were
roommates. “You’re amazing, kit. We love you, you know that, right?”

He doesn’t even hear any response because you’re already fast asleep.

It’s been months since. Remaining true to the vows you uttered, you stay together despite the
complicated setup.

As expected, Seokjin’s family had him disowned. And it’s only natural that everyone decided to
live together again. In a far faraway place—kidding, it’s just a house in a quiet town, somewhere
all of you can start anew. Happily together but discreetly wholesome on the outside as possible;
even posing as housemates renting the place just so the neighbors wouldn’t ‘misunderstand’.

Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon continue their passion for music; you and Jungkook working in the
hospital along with Jimin and Taehyung who are excelling in being medical representatives while
Seokjin grows his own business—from the convenience store he bought, to managing a café of his
own.

Namjoon’s family is well-aware that you’re staying together along with the six others. To them,
you’ve always been part of the family ever since and they’d never judge you no matter what.
Whereas, Yoongi isn’t the family-man type of person, his personal life has always been private
from his own family. And since Jungkook has been continuing his journey of being a doctor, his
understanding family has no problems with him staying single despite his age.

On the contrary, Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung have been at variance with their families about the
matter. Their parents have been bugging them to settle down and get married. It’s understandable.
You guys aren’t getting any younger but the men remain steadfast, insisting that they don’t want to
get married which somehow results in some of their parents turning to you—the obviously closest
girl they have in their life. With them asking favors that you convince their sons to find probable
life partners, you have no choice but to promise to help out but sometimes, the lying piles up and
the weight becomes a little heavier that it saddens you; the thought of you monopolizing these
wonderful men to yourself hanging in your mind from time to time.

Conflict with their families. You’ve always seen it coming but it still hurts that you’re the cause of
it.

But then you see your chooseday ring and it instantly gives you the strength to hold on. This is the
life you chose. Together, you promise to overcome the hardship, right?

Six months after . . .

There are moments in your life that it’ll feel like you’re insufficient and you’ve always known that
it’s gonna be part of this whole setup. Slowly, you’re learning to embrace the downside of your
choices but no matter how you try to veil the subtle sadness, it seems like your lovers are resolute
into making you the happiest woman in the world despite the imperfect situation.

On your day off, a call from Seokjin has you getting up from bed a little later than usual and as you
step outside to cook, you see heaps of balloons floating behind the couch. Little by little, it rises by
the door frame and then, your lips curl in the biggest smile when a kitten floats mid-air.

You giggle, leaping to its direction, only to find out that there’s a hidden hand carrying the cat;
your boyfriends popping out behind the door.

“Surprise!” they greet, your smile widening as Jungkook hands you the little cutie.

“What’s this for?” you croon, petting its head.

Eyes disappearing, Jimin answers, “It’s just . . . we thought it’d be great if we had a little kitty to
take care of.”

“We weighed the pros and cons,” Namjoon adds, “And we have nothing to worry about since
we’re eight. We can definitely take turns petting it and we can coordinate our schedule, right?”

“It’ll be fun!” Taehyung raises, a big boxy grin flashing as he hugs you.

“And since we’re all sure you’ll love it, we bought it!” Hoseok states cheerily.

Yoongi reaches out to pet its head too. “What should we call it?”

Your boyfriends look at you as they wait for your answer, your eyes drifting to the golden British
shorthair on your hands. “What about Orange?”

Jungkook’s nose scrunches in excitement. “Orange, it is!” he barks, nuzzling his nose on the little
kitty.

And just like that, the family grew; all of you having this little baby you care for that all your
doubts vanish into thin air.

A few months after, it’s Jungkook and Seokjin bickering as they enter the house, a little white
puppy in their hands.
“Oh c’mon! Let’s keep it,” the maknae urges, whining in a pout; the rest of you turning to them
with confusion.

Hands digging on his waist, the eldest argues, “Just because your friend begged you to take care of
it for his stead doesn’t mean you should’ve agreed to it. What would Orange think? Our baby
might get jealous—”

“A puppy!” Taehyung’s eyes widen with exhilaration as he races to get his hands on the little fur
ball.

Taking Orange with you, you greet them, hoping that their argument would stop. The two men lean
in to kiss you on the cheek then continue their argument as usual.

Rather than joining their argument, the rest just focus on the Maltese puppy, introducing it to your
little Orange.

“Baby,” you softly call out for Orange but having seven men turning to you instead and you
chuckle at that. “I meant my son,” you explain, grinning at them.

The little Maltese suddenly licks the little shorthair playfully and your smile grows bigger.
“Orange, I think your little brother loves you already.”

Aside from the two animals getting along, your statement then settles the two men’s argument.

Hoseok, who’s now showering the puppy with smooches, asks, “What do we call our new baby?”

“How about Lime? I can buy him a green scarf and—” Seokjin trails off, all of you staring at him
with raised eyebrows since he’s the one who opposed adopting the puppy in the first place. And as
if reading your minds, he answers, “Hey, I was just concerned about Orange. But now that he
seems to like the puppy, why not love them both?”

A little later and Seokjin carries the two animals as if introducing them to each other. “Lime, meet
your cat sibling . . . Orange-hyung. Do not drop your honorifics. I do not raise disrespectful
citizens of the world. And Orange, be a great big brother like how I awesome I am, okay?”
The room erupts in laughter at how he speaks to them as if they’re talking the same language and
before you know it, another baby has been added to the family.

A few months later . . .

As if not having enough of the ‘parenting’ life, Namjoon and Taehyung bring in another puppy,
Orange and Lime running to greet them too.

There’s nothing you can do but sigh in disbelief yet you can’t even blame them, pets just have this
indescribable way of cheering you up that having more just makes it merrier.

“We’re home!” the two men say and you give them a peck, your eyes staring back at the
Pomeranian’s big round eyes.

“So,” you hum, taking the new baby in your arms. “What’s his name?”

“Pom.”

“Pom?” you repeat with confused eyes. “As in Pomeranian?”

“Pom as in Pomelo.” Namjoon grins, earning chuckles from everyone.

What a smartass.

It seems like your babies are all from the Citrus family, burying the sour memory of ‘lemons’
unintentionally.

Not long after and Jungkook prompts a family portrait—you, them and the kids: Orange, Lime and
Pom. Indeed, it’s one of your favorite photos ever.

A couple of weeks pass by and then it’s Halloween, everyone still freeing up their schedule for the
traditional fireworks. This time, your pets doesn’t miss out the event too. Wherever you bring
them, they’re always branded ‘cute’. Of course! Their dads are fashionistas, making the trio wear
cute costumes and hats and oh, all the things adorable.

***

A year after that Chooseday . . .

Jungkook runs as fast as he can, excited—to see you and the newborn baby. Catching his breath, he
slides the door and you greet him with a big smile, the baby wrapped in a white linen as you carry
it.

“There you are,” you say, your eyes gleaming with fondness.

Immediately, Jungkook strides to peer at the baby, his bunny smile flashing. “She’s gorgeous!
Definitely looks like her mom.”

He looks at you with wonder and you return it with the same depth of admiration. And then—

Gaeul chuckles. “Thank you, Jungkook! Choosing you as her godfather certainly is the best
decision,” she humors despite her tired eyes.

“I missed you, baby,” Jungkook whispers, pressing a quick kiss on your forehead and then he’s
turning his attention to your friend “The week-long seminar sucks. Good thing, I arrive today.
Visiting Gaeul and this little angel is top priority, right?”

Of course, the instant you agree with the whole chooseday, the only people you’ve told your
situation about are Bom and Gaeul. So it’s not surprising that Bangtan has built friendship with
your friends as well—to the point that Gaeul even chooses Taehyung and Jungkook as her
daughter’s godparents more than you.

“God, it’s so fulfilling but damn the labor,” she grumbles, ranting and earning soft chuckles from
both you and Jungkook. “The pain is unfathomable!” she stresses out, her gaze shifting to you
who’s busy booping her daughter’s little nose, obviously not listening to her.

Your friend smiles at that. “You should get your own—” she cuts off, halting that quick slip of
tongue; her face surprised at herself, apologetic, “I mean. . .”

“It’s fine,” you reply genuinely. “We have yours and Bom’s babies as our godchildren. And I’m
pretty satisfied with being their best auntie.”

“Of course, sweetheart!” she answers, “You’re the best girlfriend Bom and I have. I’m sure your
boys can relate to how thankful we are to have you. And so will our children be the happiest to
have you as their aunt.”

“And don’t forget Orange, Lime and Pom,” Jungkook insists, “Those brats are gonna be thrilled to
have a new human playmate.”

The three of you dissolve in laughter but then a yawn erupts from Gaeul and she sighs. “I’m a little
sleepy after the operation. Would you mind to look after my baby for a while, doctors?”

You and Jungkook chuckle once more, nodding. And as your friend drifts into her slumber, the two
of you are left staring fondly at the adorable little one you’re holding.

“Taehyung’s probably running around town,” Jungkook murmurs with a grin. “He’s been excited
to see his goddaughter since last month.”

“I know.” You laugh. “He has an ongoing meeting but he’ll be here an hour later, I guess.”

Jungkook coos, his fingers rubbing soft random patterns on the baby’s little arm while you hum her
a lullaby, your eyes gently glued to her.

You wonder, “What kind of mom do you think I would—?” The unexpected question tumbles out
of your mouth before you can get a hold of it and it has both of you startled—especially Jungkook
who’s now rubbing the back of his neck in awkwardness.

Apparently, after that chooseday, Bangtan had agreed and even swore to the whole galaxy to
comply with that one rule which you never knew of . . .

THE ONE WHO FUCKING MENTIONS KIDS WILL BE BEATEN TO A PULP.

Considerate, they didn’t want you to feel that you’re hindering them from certain things like giving
them a proper family or a child. They never want you to feel that there’s something lacking. Thus,
with that agreement, they all turned to Taehyung with suspicious eyes.

The man who’s known to be the fondest with children gulped down, knowing he might
unintentionally spew stuff when he sees kids. Willing to sacrifice his love for making a family, with
a pout, Taehyung reassured, “I will try my best to refrain from those topics.”

And so it’s been a year, yet none of them really did ever bring up talks about children in front of
you. They’ve always been supportive and understanding of your career, to the pets-which-are-
treated-as-children and to living together secretly—even going against their own families for it.

“I, uhm, I—,” you stutter, trying to withdraw your careless idea. With the setup you have with all
of them, you shouldn’t have asked that.

Jungkook pulls his lips upwards, his finger tucking a few loose strands of your hair behind your
ear. “You would be the best mom in the world. Heck, you’re already the best woman for us.”

Indeed, all of them never fail to make you feel so special. “That’s so sweet of you.”

And since you started the whole topic, just like Pandora opening the box, Jungkook’s
inquisitiveness continues, “How many kids do you wanna have?”

“I, Jungkook, we can’t—”

“Don’t think too much about unimportant stuff and just answer my question honestly,” he placates
calmly, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell the others. I just wanna know. Curiosity. I’m sure you’ve
thought of it before you ever had the seven of us.”

He’s right. It’s not like you’ll be making babies just because you talked about it, right?

Humming, you think back. “Well, either three or four?”

His nose scrunches in delight. “Three is also what I wanted.”

***

It’s not like you’ll be making babies just because you talked about it, right?

Two weeks after having that baby talk with Jungkook, you’re here, the living room overflowing
with tension and confusion as you discuss your desire to have a real-life baby.

None of you are getting any younger. And after a long reasonable debate, they agree to your terms,
resulting in a one-week-baby-making-session with all of them; all of you fixing their schedules to
match your fertile window and make it happen.

A month after . . .
DAY ONE

Excitement is an understatement; the boys are thrilled. Though it’s only Yoongi, Namjoon and
Taehyung who have freed their schedule for today, it still marks the beginning of the goal. They’re
more than determined to get you pregnant that it’s like a honeymoon all over again and these three
plan to keep you up all night.

“Fuck her, hyung,” Taehyung says in an undertone, his eyes trailed on your every move.

“I’m going too,” Namjoon responds as he slides his face down to your bare crotch, “but first I want
to taste that sweet pussy of hers.”

Yoongi just smirks, seizing your lips and drinking your moans while the younger decides to suck in
your nipples. You squirm under all their ministrations. You feel Namjoon’s wet tongue pressing
against your clit and he eats you out for another few minutes.

When he’s had enough of your juices, they exchange glances as if signaling how they’d take you
tonight. You try to get on your knees but they insist on keeping your back on the bed.

“Be still, baby. Let us do all the work.”

Taehyung grabs your leg with one hand, his other lovingly caressing the back of your thigh, his
touch soothing and sensual while Namjoon gets the other one, planting a kiss to the side of your
leg. They hold your legs, spreading you open to—

Yoongi enters you without hesitation. Too turned on by all the foreplay you did half an hour ago,
he starts fucking you savagely, pounding you straight down. “We’re gonna fuck you until you’re
brimming with our cum.”

You’re all new to this. Fucking and making a child seems to have great difference. A good
difference that you can’t help but smile softly at him. “I can’t wait for you to get me pregnant.”

With those genuine words of yours, it doesn’t take long for him to spill his inside you and after
that, Taehyung steps away, releasing your leg for Yoongi to take. He goes between your legs,
sinking his cock deep inside you; your body stiffening with the force of his thrusts, your breasts
jiggling as you whimper sensually.

“Can’t wait to be a daddy,” Taehyung grunts, shoving his cock in and out of you; his hands groping
your breasts at the same time. “But first, you gotta take every drop of our cum, yeah?”

You nod desperately. “Please, fill me up.”

And just like you ask, Namjoon fists his cock and offers it to your mouth. You suck him in quickly
thereafter and the sight of it has Taehyung cursing, pushed to the edge. He erupts into you, his hot
load filling your core and Yoongi cups your cheeks, cooing, “That’s it, baby. You’re doing great.”

Taehyung withdraws from you only for Namjoon to replace him. With one loving push, he looks at
you with stars in his eyes—a part of him still can’t believe that he’s really gonna breed you for real
this time. Just the thought of you off your pills and spread open like this for him has him aroused
as fuck. What more when he watches Yoongi and Taehyung lick and wrap their mouths around
your nipples?

The overwhelming sensation reigns over you; your body hot as if on fire. It drives you insane, the
vein on his neck bulging as you whimper at how your best friend takes you.
“Can you feel me, baby?” Namjoon asks, his voice one octave lower but you’re too distracted to
answer, the waves of pleasure drowning you. Your body twists, your chest heaving up and down as
you anticipate your release. “I can’t last long if you’re looking so beautiful like that.”

“Do it Namjoon,” Yoongi prods, his tongue brushing on your ear. “Haven’t you always dreamed
of knocking up your best friend?”

Fuck. That does the trick; you and Namjoon moan in release, your bodies tensing, writhing against
each other. After your orgasm, a short cuddle session occurs but their sex drive just won’t let you
rest for long. The three of them take turns over and over, fucking your pussy and mouth, making
sure to give you the child you all want.

DAY TWO

Sore. Yes, you are indeed sore after last night’s session with your three boyfriends and that is why
Seokjin treats you like a princess, no scratch that because he’s always treated you like one during
normal days, like a queen today.

With the three men you’re with last night all off early to their own important appointments, he
serves you breakfast in bed, then helps you get in the tub, showering together.

‘No pressure’ is Seokjin’s mantra for today which is why the both of you are laughing in the tub,
your back against his broad chest as he entertains you with a rubber ducky puppet show while he
throws his usual dad jokes.

Of course, he’s sad that his schedule didn’t match the three others’ last night but it’s alright as long
as he has you all to himself today. You’re scheduled to accompany him to check on the convenient
store he owned since he temporarily closed it for future renovation. Plus, he wanted to have a final
inventory recheck himself like the meticulous businessman he is.

After having lunch, you both drive to the store and you get to work immediately, heading to the
cashier counter. He starts calculating the money while your eyes unintentionally roam around the
place. It suddenly feels so nostalgic to be there; you remembering the first time you saw him again
after the breakup.

“You looked so handsome that day,” you spout and he gazes at you with confusion. “So handsome
that I cried in regret,” you laugh at yourself. “You didn’t even offer me the umbrella anymore.”

“Really? I was in two minds back then, torn between scurrying away and staying a little longer.”

You pout. “So you’d rather not see me that time? Well, I can’t blame you, I look like shit—”

Damn, if only you knew how he always sneaked there just to see you. Heaving a sigh, he cuts you
off, “If I stayed a little longer I would’ve offered my umbrella and you would’ve refused it
and insisted on running in the rain. Then I would’ve chased you since I hated it when you do that
and then . . .”

His arms wrap around your hips, pulling you closer. “I would’ve kissed you, abducted you even.
Do you know how dangerous that was?”

Your lips curl in a smile as you equally meet his gaze, your arms folding around his neck.
“Dangerous? How come?” The mischief twinkles in your eyes while his darkens.

“I would’ve punished you.”

You tiptoe, leaning closer to whisper into his ear, “I would’ve dared you to.”

Provoked, Seokjin swallows thickly then smirks. “You don’t know what you’re asking. You don’t
know how badly I was missing you.”

Creases forming in your forehead, you challenge, “Show me then. What would you have—?”

You gasp when he suddenly whirls you around, bending you over the cashier counter, something
hard poking in your ass.

“I would’ve fucked you anywhere if you’d let me,” he mutters, rubbing his hard bulge on you.

Good thing all the windows are covered and you’re partly hidden by the shelves. You glance over
him with a wicked tiny smile on your lips. “Is fucking me in this cashier counter long overdue?”

“You naughty little vixen,” Seokjin hums with a smirk, nevertheless pulls your panties down
without second thoughts—thankful that you opted for a cute dress.

He slaps your ass once before zipping his pants down. “Why don’t you do the inventory while I
fuck you raw, huh?”

You scoff at his challenge but another slap lands on your ass, making you gasp. It seems like you
have no other choice but to comply so you go over the money when his hands crawl to fondle your
breast, his fingers tweaking your nipples.

“You’re so much fun to touch,” he says while you try to concentrate on the task he gave you.

You pretend to ignore him, your eyes solely on the money in your hands and then you feel his dick,
teasing your wet entrance. You can feel him smile.

“Ignoring me? Yet this pussy’s already this wet?” His other hand smears your juices further than
your knees suddenly weakens.

“Seokjin,” you whimper.

“Concentrate,” he sternly retorts.

But who are you kidding? No woman can ever concentrate when Kim Seokjin is already sliding in
his beefy cock—inch by inch—inside your dripping hole.

“Did they even fuck you properly last night?” he asks through gritted teeth, “How come you’re still
so fucking tight if they did?”

Eyes clenching shut, you feel him inside you, his cock throbbing with how your walls choke him.
He starts moving, and once he goes deep enough he places a hand on your back, another loud slap
because you obviously failed at your task.

His hard cock goes in and out of your pussy then he looks up somewhere and whispers, “Smile for
the CCTV, sweetheart.”

Funny how you’re unexpectedly more aroused, the exhibitionist in you tingling. And though
there’s no one in the security room, you’re sure enough the both of you will cherish this escapade
remembrance afterwards.

“Aah Seokjin, fuck me deeper!” you cry, noticing that he’s still holding back a few inches—
probably being considerate.
“Are you sure you can take all of me, sweetheart? Can you handle it all the way in?”

“Oh c’mon! Fuck me like you mean it. Don’t be a pus—”

Your mouth hangs open when he abruptly bottoms out, his cock hitting that specific spot that has
you mewling. “Oh god, Seokjin.” You begin to move backwards, meeting his thrusts as he fucks
you hard and deep just the way you like it.

It goes on for a while—you fucking in the counter, whispering sweet nothings and filthy things as
you moan altogether.

Finally, his cum spills—no, splatters—but Seokjin continues thrusting into you, your juices
flowing, your body rocking up and down the table as he impregnates the hell out of you.

DAY THREE

It can’t be helped. You’re supposed to be waiting for Hoseok to come home by dinner. He’s
promised you that you’ll be watching your favorite movie together but he just called in to tell you
that there had been a few changes in the bar, his boss asking him a favor to extend for tonight.

Instead of waiting at home, you decide to surprise him at the club just like the old times. Dressed
up in your favorite black dress, you squirm inside the crowd and see him up there—the cool
handsome DJ in charge of the place’s amazing beats.

Watching him have fun, the whole having-a-crush-on-your-class-president era flashes in your
mind, followed by those supportive girlfriend moments you had with him after college. Somehow,
you’re grateful that he still pursued music. That Namjoon, Yoongi and he still did music despite
the disbandment.

Namjoon has already left for an important business the other day and Hoseok still has to pack his
stuff tonight for tomorrow’s trip. It’s only right for you to go the extra mile if things didn’t go as
planned.

His eyes unexpectedly meet yours in the crowd and you can see the surprise in his face.

“What are you doing here?” he mouths inaudibly and you only smile, raising your phone and
hinting that you sent him a message.

You wait for him by the VIP couch but a few moments, you excuse yourself for the bathroom.
You’re drying your hands when the door suddenly opens, a grinning Jung Hoseok startling you.

“Peaches,” he greets you with a tight hug. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to go all the way
here. Did you miss me that much?”

He’s squishing you that you can only laugh. “Yes, Hoseok-nim. I miss you that much.”

His hands rub your back fondly as he explains how he ended up in an overtime but then it leads
astray, his hands squeezing your ass by habit and that’s where his lips lift in a coy smile.

Instantly, he locks the door of the shared bathroom and pulls your dress up, shaking his head in
disbelief when he finds out.
“Hm, no panties?”

Biting on your lips, you shrug. “Maybe I just forgot to put it on?” you murmur, your hands already
playing with his belt.

His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. “My baby can’t wait to get fucked at home that she has to
visit me at work without panties, huh?”

You take his cock out, it springs, hitting his tummy. Your arms wrapping around his neck, Hoseok
lifts your leg, spreading you a little for him to take.

Suddenly, he fishes his phone and shows you a little something. A photo of you, your pussy filled
with cum.

Immediately, you turn red in embarrassment and he chuckles. “They sent this in the group chat the
other night. Makes me wanna fuck you full too. Damn, you’re so perfect and we’reso fucking
lucky,” Hoseok sighs before his lips slam on yours. Your mouths are inseparable, your tongues
dancing together while the tip of his head brushes on your slit.

“Please, Hoseok-nim. Put it in,” you urge. “I want it so bad.”

And your wish is his command. In a blink of an eye, he’s fucking your brains out, his hips
unrelenting as he stifle your sounds with kisses.

“Milk me with your pussy, peaches,” Hoseok whispers, his cock piercing you repeatedly.

Your head falls back in carnal desire, your body tensing up. “I-I’m cumming,” you pant as you
reach your climax.

But he fucks you through your orgasm. “Take it, baby. Feel me cum deep inside your pussy,” he
says and you feel his warm seeds shooting as you come together.

Relieved, you sag in his arms and he embraces you tighter, pressing a kiss on your head. “I love it
when your body loses control when you cum,” he teases and you hit his chest faintly.

“I’m sorry if I bothered you at work,” you voice out.

“Nonsense. You can bother me anytime, baby.” Hoseok replies, removing his cock; his cum
dripping out of your pussy and he clicks his tongue at the sight. “I guess I have to fuck back all that
cum inside you as soon as we get home, huh?”

DAY FOUR

Hoseok leaves for his own important business and after having an early breakfast, Yoongi who’s
surprisingly awake this early too, offers to drive you to work and you accept it; his thoughtfulness
always something that brightens up your day. But it seems like thoughtfulness isn’t the only thing
he possesses.

When you arrive at the parking lot half an hour earlier, he’s already showering you with heated
kisses, his hands all over you.

“Y-yoongi,” you whimper, unsure but eager as well.

The man on the driver seat only smirks, whispering in your ear, “More chances of winning, angel.”

He really won’t waste any chances. You giggle at that and before you know it, he’s pulling you to
straddle him—making a baby inside the car. And you couldn’t be anymore thankful for the tinted
windows of the vehicle.

***

After attending a three-day medical mission, Jungkook is back in the hospital and the first thing he
does is visit your clinic.

“Baby!” you greet him, the sound of the chair pulled back as you stand resonating. You run to him
with open arms and he hugs you back. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be resting at home
first?”

“I missed you too much. I’d rather see you than sleep.”

Your lips curl in a smile but before you can speak, he’s already held you captive, your lips seized
by his, his arms pulling your body against his. You’re too busy drowning in his kisses to notice
how he walks you backwards until your ass hits your desk and he’s lifting you, sitting you atop the
wooden furniture. He spreads your legs, making your skirt bunch upwards; his fingers immediately
tackling your lace underwear.

“Jungkook,” you breathe anxiously, your eyes suddenly on your door.

He reads you like a book, muttering lowly, “I’ve already locked it and even put on your ‘On Lunch
Break’ sign. No patient would come in, trust me.” He reaches down, suddenly ripping off your
panties with one swipe. Then he slides in two fingers, his thumb playing with your clit until your
wetter and wetter.

“Fuck, Kookie,” you moan. “I want more.”

Jungkook undoes his pants, his big cock standing tall and quickly, he fucks you on the table; all
your paper works be damned. The both of you gets lost in paradise as he thrusts in you in an
animalistic rhythm and then—

“How about we stretch your pussy with a second cock?” a baritone voice from the door catches
your attention, the both of you turning to him immediately.

Taehyung smirks, leaning against the door frame as he watches you. “I bet our greedy little girl
want that.”

“Oh, hyung. How’d you—?”

The man by the door brags the extra key of your clinic he’s holding. “Welcome back, Kook.” He
walks leisurely towards the both of you. “Thought you’re on the way home?”

“Decided to fuck a baby in our girl instead,” Jungkook replies, his actions continuous.

“So about my offer?” Taehyung hums as he fists his dick.

Without warning, Jungkook picks you by the ass again. He carries you effortlessly and say, “Let’s
fuck her together, Tae.”

God damn, his sheer strength alone has you stimulated, the position letting you feel him deeper
inside you that you start moaning in orgasm. Not wasting time, Jungkook spreads your cheeks.
“Hyung, slide your cock inside.”
Flesh meets flesh when Taehyung dutifully complies. The stretch is taking over you and you
honestly missed it so much. With their matching heights, they fuck you with ease, sandwiching
your body; you cling on Jungkook for your dear life as they double penetrate you.

“Can you feel us, baby?” Taehyung asks lowly behind you as they got their rhythm going, “Two
cocks ruining your pussy?”

They push simultaneously into your hole and as you cream their cocks, you feel both of them
spasm. Taehyung and Jungkook burst inside you, coming pretty much at the same time, filling you
with their seeds. For a few heartbeats, all three of you are bucking and groaning in total euphoria as
you orgasm together.

“What brings you here?” Jungkook asks the soonest you all settle to rest on the sofa.

Taehyung answers with a boxy smile. “Well, we originally planned to have lunch together so I was
sure baby doll wasn’t on lunch break when I came. Who would’ve thought Dr. Jeon would be
paying her a visit?”

Lunch forgotten as they fuck you time after time, constantly cumming deep inside your hot and wet
pussy the whole afternoon.

DAY FIVE

Today’s schedule consists of nothing but you and Jimin so you giddily drive to his office. But as
you arrive, he’s already in the middle of a stressing phone call, the agitation painted on his
beautiful face.

His lips greet you with a quick smile but it fades into a frown the soonest he replies to a client. You
sit quietly on his couch, waiting for him to finish the conversation.

Later on, the call ends and he’s settling beside you with a big huff, his arms wrapping around you
lovingly. “I’m sorry, kitten. But I’m working overtime today. The boss needs me to go deliver the
products right now and proceed to the urgent business meeting.

You sigh softly but it’s not like you can do anything about it. Besides, you don’t want to add up to
his stress so you just console him with a kiss on the cheek. “Sure thing, Ji. I’ll just wait for you at
home and massage the stress out of you. Then we can make a baby afterwards. What do you
think?”

Jimin erupts in a tinkling bell giggle, nodding his head. “Yes, kitten. I’d very much like that.” He
presses his plump lips on yours and smiles again. “I’m really thankful I have such an understanding
woman in my life.”

“Cut the flatteries, Park.” Your eyes humorously narrow at him. “I’ll be waiting so finish your
work as quickly as you can. I’m not great at missing you, you know that.”

And together, you leave his office—you, heading back home while he’s driving to finish his
errands.

***

Hours and hours, you’ve waited for his arrival until you’ve fallen asleep on the couch. It’s almost
midnight when he comes home and when he sees you sleeping, he automatically carries you to
your bed, tucking you into a warm blanket and giving you a quick good night kiss before he’s
falling asleep beside you too.
DAY SIX

Waking up alone in bed again, you sigh; a little love note from Jimin on the bedside.

Got an early call from my boss. You were sleeping so serenely, I couldn’t wake you
up. Be back before dinner, kit.

PS: Don’t forget your appointment with Bom. We don’t want her spamming the
whole day. Love you.

Yes, it’s so unfair—how he didn’t even wake you up when you had important plans a.k.a. make a
baby and you can’t even be upset with this man for a second because he knows how to make up for
the subtle gaps. Jimin’s always been the right mix of thoughtful and sweet that despite his busy
schedule, he always has you smiling.

Good thing he reminded of you Bom because heck, you almost forgot that you promised to meet
up since she’ll be traveling overseas again. Who knows when she’ll return again? Hence, you get
up and get dressed, driving to your friend’s house.

Oh what a day it is! It’s filled with fun girl talk . . . and gardening—since she insisted on giving her
garden the last makeover before she leaves, and who better to have the landscaping than you, the
plant-holic queen as always. You love the activity, giving out full effort as usual—even weeding
out the whole lot—and without noticing, the sun’s already set, the garden decorated beautifully;
your cue to go home. The two of you exchange the tightest hug and by the time you arrive at home,
the exhaustion creeps up on you.

Seokjin and Yoongi laugh at the whole story of how your day went while massaging your stiff
body.

“We’ll surely miss Bom,” says the eldest, “But cupcake, you should’ve convinced her to choose a
different bonding activity.”

Yoongi agrees. “Jimin will be coming home soon. You gotta prepare for him.”

You smile at them. Of course, how can you forget?

“I will. Don’t worry. Just gonna rest for a little bit and I’ll be ready in no time.”

Planting a quick kiss on your forehead, the two men leave you be; your eyes shutting for a
moment.

But by the time your eyes peel open, you find yourself wrapped in Jimin’s arms. Your eyes dart to
the clock, it’s already eleven in the evening. Shit.

“Ji.” You squirm, trying to stir him awake. He only mumbles sleepily in reply, cuddling you closer
to his chest.

“You can’t get me pregnant with cuddles, oppa.” But he doesn’t respond, his tiny snores hovering
in the room. You turn on your belly, your chest pressing against his as you cup his face lightly.
“Jimin, we need to do this. It’s my last day of fertility, I’m—”

“It’s okay,” he whispers, his voice angelic yet still laced with lethargy.

Does he not realize how important this matter is? Slowly, the frustration gets to you. “No, it’s not.
We need this sexy time so you’d have a baby.”
Even with closed eyes, Jimin counters abruptly, “I already have one and I’m holding her close right
now.”

With brows furrowing, you click your tongue in disapproval. “Ji, I’m serious.”

“Me too,” he hums, droopy eyes now meeting yours. “I don’t care whether I’m the biological
father of our baby or not. Your baby will always automatically be my baby because I love you so
much.” His hands are gentle on your cheeks yet his eyes have never been this serious. “I’m sure.
All of us will get you pregnant.”

Your eyes roll instinctively. “They probably will, yeah. But that’s because they already have—”

“I’ll get you pregnant too . . . maybe not with some kinky penetrations,” Jimin cuts in confidently,
“but surely, you’ll get pregnant with my love the most.”

Utterly, you’re flabbergasted but he continues, smiling as he lovingly rubs his nose against yours.
“The first born will be mine, and so will the second, the third, the fourth, the fifth, the—”

You’ve had it, shutting him up with a kiss. A breathtaking kiss because that’s what Park Jimin
deserves. How he can still sweep you off of your feet like this is beyond your knowledge. But one
thing’s for sure.

You fake vomit and he chuckles.

“I think I just got triplets from that corny pun.” Yielding, you rest your head on his chest and he
instantly plays with your hair.

“The others told me about your gardening day with Bom.”

You straighten up, looking bothered. “Is that why you won’t fuck me?” Grabbing his hand, you
take his pointer finger on your mouth, giving it a quick seductively lick. You want him aroused,
that’s for sure. “I’m not tired anymore, Ji—”

Jimin heaves a deep sigh, withdrawing his hand. You can’t fool. He’s been your roommate and
you’ve done tons of kinky stuff during those times. He’s very much aware of your limits and with
just one look, he knows you’re beat. With the consecutive days of you mating the others, it’s only
essential that he gives you a break.

“I just think it’s best for you to rest more tonight.”

“We can just go for a quickie if you like?” you offer with a cunning grin but he only looks at you,
unimpressed.

“Kitten,” he utters somberly, earning a pout from you.

“But—”

“Not when you’re tired,” he strictly argues, “Besides, why worry? I already told you. I’m serious
about our kids, kit.”

Not in a million years will you win against this type of Jimin. He doesn’t even touch you with
malice nor look at you with lust. Convincing him will be impossible because ever since you got
back together, taking care of you has been his top priority and maybe this is his own way of
showing his sincerity so you yield.
Mirroring his sigh, you murmur, “I know. I love you, Park Jimin.”

“I love you more. So much more.” He tucks both of you in a blanket and beams; cuddling has
always been his forte. “Now, let’s sleep, kitten. Sweet dreams.”

***

With everyone’s hectic schedules, your remaining men head to the airport; Jimin and Taehyung
both have their month-long medical representative business trip overseas while Jungkook has been
selected to participate in another medical mission outside the city.

Both having flying to the US, Seokjin is to attend a series of investment seminars while Hoseok
goes with his family for a vacation, spending time and preparing things before his sister gets
married. On the other hand, Yoongi and Namjoon who have been composing songs for other artists
are already staying with their music company for a few weeks to prepare for a few album
productions.

It’s been so long since you’ve been alone at home. You hate the distance but then again, their
fulfillment is your fulfillment too. To have them striving for their ambitions gives you joy as well.
Besides, you are a busy woman yourself. Being a doctor demands time, so you focus all your
attention to your patients and to your daily work.

A month after . . .

With their return dates all synced, they decide to surprise you because they’re that romantic and
head over heels for you as always. Knowing your schedule, they’re expecting to catch you off
guard, asleep in your room after another night shift. But as they sneak inside the house, it’s you
who takes them aback, a loud pop startles them—most of them jumping out of their skin; confetti
scattering everywhere as you greet them a big ‘Welcome home, my loves!’

Seokjin throws his briefcase to embrace you, the others tossing their luggage away as well. Jimin
walks to you, carrying a box of your favorite cake but before they can say anything, you fish out
something and present it to them with a smile; all of them speechless as their eyes dart on what
you’re holding.

Two lines on a small pregnancy test kit.

A/N: So yes, I hope this is a wonderful surprise for everyone. Sorry if this chapter is smut-tiring
but after all those chapters, I hope it was worth the roller-coaster ride. Again, if there was too much
smut, I apologize. I got tired reading too. Nonetheless, thank you for staying with me, for the
endless support. If I didn’t live up to the expectations, I’m very much sorry. I know everyone had
different opinions in how to end this fic but I think, OT7! I know it’s hard to pull off but I hope,
this fic can prove it. Love makes you do crazy things. And trying this out is one of it.

Nevertheless, big thanks. Last chapter ahead! Can’t wait to hear your thoughts. I’ve honestly
missed everyone. I really hope it was worth everyone’s time.

Feel free to flood me with baby questions hahaha and all your predictions of our first ever bangtan
baby. Do you want a baby boy or a girl or both or what?! tell meeee hahaha :) Stay gold, lemon
babies.

PS: to the ao3 reader who song rec me Happiest Year, THANK YOU. you reminded me of such
feeling that ‘you’ should have. Thus, the first few paragraphs were inspired by that. thank you. <3
✁-----------------------------------

[INTERLOGUE] -- okay, i just can’t help but add interlogues haha. sorry

All seven of them freeze in their place, you unable to read their faces. “Surprise?” you squeak in
hesitation, unsure what it is they’re all feeling.

The whole month long, they’ve spammed you with questions about your pregnancy but you never
really confirmed. Being a doctor, you know the possibilities of false positives or negatives, so you
make sure to wait a few more weeks to test yourself. And of course, keeping it to yourself just
because you’re a tease and want to surprise them in person.

All at once, they pounce at you, teary-eyed as they lightly squish you in a group hug.

“We’re gonna be parents?!” they sputter in disbelief, a few remarks of amusement and gratefulness
escaping their mouths.

Chuckling in utmost happiness, you nod your head, reassuring them. That’s when Orange jumps in,
joining the group hug, Lime and Pom barking as if asking for attention too. Taehyung and Hoseok
lift the dogs, adding them and making a whole lot warmer embrace.

After a few minutes of settling down and letting the information sink in, they look at you, eyes
brimming with excitement.

“Baby, we can’t wait for our little princess!” Jungkook chirps and you giggle.

“Princess?” you echo, “How’d you know it’s a girl?”

“Well doc, we’ve been praying for a baby girl ever since,” Yoongi answers. “An adorable little
you.”

“Though we’d still love it if we’d have a boy but don’t you think your life is a bit overcrowded
with males, peaches?”

You smile at Hoseok. “Well, I do like to have a mini me I can dress up but all that matters to me
right now is us having a child. Girl or boy, it’d shower them with all my love.”

“Maybe we can get both?” Taehyung raises with a grin.

“Twins will be a piece of cake with the eight of us!” Seokjin titters, earning a few laughs from
everyone.

“Why not aim for triplets then?” Namjoon adds, making you hit him playfully.

“You gotta be kidding me,” you cackle, “Bom and Gaeul told me how hard their labor was. One
child seems too hard to pull out, what more with three, silly!”

“We were kidding,” Jimin woos, kissing your forehead. “By the way, how did you know we’re
coming home today?”

Your eyes instinctively steal a glance at Taehyung, your lips trying to hold in a smile but the others
quickly catch on, playfully hitting the known blabbermouth.

“Ya!” Taehyung whines in a pout, “I didn’t tell her anything!”

You giggle at them, revealing, “You forgot that some of your emails are synced with mine. I saw
your flight details, dummy.”

“What a sharp better half we have!” Jungkook scrunches his nose, nuzzling your neck lovingly.

“I bet our little one will inherit her intelligence,” Namjoon prompts, dimples popping.

“Those dimples are what I wish our child will have!” you comment, poking his adorable feature.
You turn to Hoseok as well, his tiny dimples making you smile. Later on, you shift your attention
to Taehyung, pointing at his anime eyes, then to Jungkook’s doe eyes. “Either of those too,” you
say as if window-shopping for the things you want your child to have.

You then look at Seokjin, Jimin and Namjoon. “Those plump lips too. She’ll probably look like a
fabulous Bratz doll if she’ll have those lips.”

They laugh at you. “Surely, she’s hoarding all these cute features of ours!”

“Absolutely!” you admit proudly. Lastly, you turn to Yoongi who’s waiting for what you like
about him. Without any words, the both of you grin from ear to ear; his gummy smile flashing and
all at once, you’re smitten. “Gosh, everyone loves that smile, Yoongs. I’m sure that smile will be
our child’s asset if she gets that from you.”

The conversation goes on, the daydreaming and imagination of what your child would look like or
become hovering in the living room. Boy, everyone’s delighted, dying to already see your baby.
All of them take turns to rub your belly, stating wishes of what they want the baby to take after
them as if you’re a genie in a magic lamp.

And heck, you find it so silly. “Guys, I’m just a few weeks pregnant. You won’t get anything from
rubbing.”

They ignore you, continuing splattering daddy wishes and your eyes drop to your choose ring; the
promise you all exchanged that day lingering in the back of your mind.

You chose them and this complicated yet sweet setup. You’ve all agreed to start and build a
family. There’s no backing out. Surely, this nine-month journey will both be a challenge and
something you’ll look forward to.

Honestly, you’re a bit nervous and afraid but when you see them you realize . . . What’s there to
fear when you have seven amazing partners who’ll never leave your side? Surely, you’ll get
through this despite all the uncertainty and hardships life will throw at you.
 aspirin
Chapter Notes

Pairing: BTS x reader; JAEBUM x reader

⇢ Word Count: 8888 words
⌦ Warnings: none at all. just a quick twist that will spark all your eighth-lead-role in
a blink of an eye.
⌦ A/N: WHERE ARE MY JAEBUMxreader shippers at? To everyone supporting
this ot7 fic, I don’t know anymore. haha. All I know is that I thank you all for staying
as always. I’m sure you won’t enjoy this, but still, have a happy chooseday.

[F.U.C.K] Aspirin is used to reduce fever and relieve mild to moderate pain. It also stops platelets
clumping together to form unwanted blood clots that may stop blood flow to the heart or brain
which usually cause heart attacks or strokes.

Why Aspirin? Because it’s the original wonder drug; a go-to medicine for millions, a Jack-of-all
trades remedy that is readily available and cheap. It’s championed for its ability to relieve pain,
fever and inflammation, even prevents possible heart attack. ALL THOSE THINGS, done by one
drug. A drug like Im Jaebum. Your underrated pain reliever. (Sorry, I got carried away.)

PRESENT DAY: THE DAY OF KIM SEOKJIN’S WEDDING

granny

they say you can’t win if you don’t play the game

How badly do you wanna win?

“Oh, no! What the fuck, Jae!” Jackson flips over as he reads your message thread on Jaebum’s
phone. “’They say you can’t win if you don’t play the game,’” he over-dramatically quotes,
squinting with great annoyance at their leader. “I am they! GOT6 is they! And we’ve all been
telling our stupid tongue-tied seventh member who makes us GOT7—that’s you!—this fucking
quote the whole time!” After jabbing his finger on Jaebum’s chest repeatedly, his hands flail
angrily in the air as he growls like a monster, reproaching, “How dare you use it on the woman you
love!? Even asking her how badly she wants to win, you foolish idiot!”

Jaebum can only sigh at how loud Jackson is being—even becoming a chibi version of himself
who won’t stop protesting and cussing in his own native language; Jaebum not understanding a
thing he says.

“Also, how dare you use me to get Kim Namjoon’s phone number?” Jackson growls, “Only to
meet up with him and give your chance away by telling him important stuff about doc?!” His nose
is flaring in annoyance but a grin plasters his lips when he asks, “By the way, does he still look hot
just like how he was in college?”
Rolling his eyes, Jaebum answers expressionlessly, “Still looked the same to me.”

Jackson giggles, reminded of his little crush on Namjoon. But not long after, he realizes that it’s not
the right time to think of another man when his friend is being a total idiot. His face returns into
contorting, continuing his rebukes, “You even let Min Yoongi get to your place?! God, Mark and
Bambam are so gonna be furious at you!” Jackson snaps again, “They’ve been your ultimate
shipper ever since college.”

A small bittersweet smile plasters on Jaebum’s face. “Ever since college, huh?” he mutters before
chugging his bottle of beer in the middle of the afternoon.

“Yeah, dummy!” Jackson smacks his head, making him choke on his beer. “That’s how long
you’ve been pining over her, for your information, you buffoon.”

Suddenly, his mind lingers back to that time. College.

Dead to the world, Jaebum was hidden somewhere near the campus library; a waiting
area close to a vending machine to be exact. It was his favorite spot to sneak a quick
nap—or better yet, to cut class which he’s too bored to attend.

It’s an ordinary afternoon when he’s suddenly awaken by a loud voice.

“Did you just roll your ugly eyes at me?!”

The voice was extremely familiar that he winced, tossing and turning with a low
groan. Being seatmates with their department’s cheerleader captain had been always a
nuisance for Jaebum; the only thing in his mind right now was . . . Why can’t she keep
her mouth shut even just for a second?

“So you’re not even talking to us?” another girl voiced out, completely disrupting his
peaceful nap.

Again, Jaebum tried to ignore it and carry on with sleeping but the conversation just
got louder and louder.

“Just because she’s Oppa’s official girlfriend she thinks she’s higher than us.”

Clicking his tongue, he knew there’d be no other way to shut those girls up than to tell
them himself. So long for his wondrous dream, he thought, straightening up with a big
stretch. He got on his feet stoically and turned around the corner to tell his seatmate to
shut it but before he could—

His eyes widened when he saw her offensively splattering a can of iced coffee at you
and judging from the lanyard hanging on your neck, you’re definitely not from
Optometry department. Sighing, he hated how arrogant his seatmate was acting. He’s
even ashamed when he saw your hands balling into fists as you eyed your messed up
white uniform.

Maybe it was your blank yet beautiful face and self-restraint from fighting back that
caught his attention. It’s not Jaebum’s business but right that moment, all he wanted
was to apologize for what their cheerleader captain did to you.

But her recklessness wasn’t wavering. “Are you finally awake after your
coffee, ‘cupcake’?” his seatmate taunted.
Shaking his head in disapproval, Jaebum was about to step up when someone
suddenly spoke, threatening, “I think it’s better to behave yourselves . . . because if
you mess with her you’ll be messing with me.”

Considering his uniform, it was amusing—how a noticeable freshman was shooting

daggers at these girls older than him. What’s even more amusing was how they’re
backing down and tensing up. Whoever your little bodyguard was, he definitely was
effective to swat those good-for-nothing women.

You chuckled while the girls scrambled to leave and Jaebum swore it was a strange
melody that felt so warm. You sounded so carefree that it felt like defending you was
worth it if he’d get to hear your soft giggles once again.

Too bad he wasn’t needed but at the same time, he’s glad you’re alright.

He didn’t notice how he’s still standing by the corner, staring at you when Jackson
called him. “Hyung, our next class is about to start!”

Hissing, he trailed after him yet still glanced over his shoulder to look at you,
memorizing your face before heading back to their class.

After a few days . . .

It was a boring afternoon, Jaebum waiting for his other GOT7 members who were still
bombarding the cafeteria ladies to give them extra muffins and refills when his eyes
suddenly lit up.

{BGM: Can I Be Him—James Arthur}

The sight of you walking into the cafeteria with the sweetest smile on your lips had his
heart racing. In one single spectacle, it’s like Jaebum’s heart had been stolen. Just. like.
that.

His eyes were glued to you when his band rambunctiously blocked the view, taking
their seats and surrounding Jaebum as chaotic as they always did, leaving him no
choice but to settle with stealing glances at you.

He tried to keep it inside him but you were glowing, giggling and laughing with a few
of your girlfriends that he had to ask, murmuring, “Wang princess, do you know who
that girl is?”

Quickly, Jackson whirled his gaze at you, eyeing you from head to toe. “Nope. I don’t
know much girls from other departments. Why? Your type?”

Suddenly sheepish, Jaebum cleared his throat. “I don’t have a type.”

“Oh, so cold as usual,” Jinyoung teased, munching on his banana.

“I just saw our department’s cheerleader picking a fight with her,” Jaebum explained,
hoping they wouldn’t be suspicious.

With a raised eyebrow, Yugyeom teased, “Really, hyung? I didn’t know you’d be
interested in cat fights, you know.”

In a flash, Jackson had his arm slinging on the cheerleader who was passing by their
table. “Yo,” he greeted, sleek and cutting to the chase, he asked straightway, his lips
pointing at you from afar, “D’you know who that girl is?”

All of GOT7’s attention was on her as they waited for the information they needed.

“Oh? That girl?” she echoed, her face twisting in annoyance. “That’s Kim Seokjin’s
rumored official girlfriend and—”

“Adios!” Jackson quickly tossed her aside with a playful smile and a flying
kiss. “Muchas gracias!” he raised, flaunting the only two phrases he learned in his
Spanish class.

With that news, Jaebum stole one last quick glance at you from the other side of the
room and before he could even harbor any admiration towards you, he backed off
instantly—not the type to pine over girls who were off-limits. And the band never did
bring you up after that incident.

However, a few months after, they saw you once again. This time, you’re entering an
apartment room beside theirs. A few more days after and they realized that you’re
their new neighbor. Things escalated quicker than expected. Though they raised some
of your dating rumors with Bangtan, you claimed you were single and with your cool
and jolly personality, it wasn’t surprising that you’d get along and even be friends with
GOT7—all thanks to carpooling your way to the university.

Other than carpooling, you couldn’t escape Jackson’s troublesome invites of

sleepovers and movie nights at their place. The foreign Chinese was too eager to get to
know his crush’s best friend and you were too polite—or just maybe too lonely—to
turn him down. Hence, you joined them and in turn, you’re suddenly branded as
GOT7’s girl just for fun.

To their maknaes, you were just so cute to tease until the night they found out how
much you could drink.

It was a stupid bet that Jackson initiated—first to get drunk would do a favor for the
winner. And even before anybody could agree to his terms, he was already demanding
that you set him and Namjoon up in a date which you obviously couldn’t do because
you knew how your best friend hated being set up by you.

Straight from the get go, you declined, knowing that it was a match he couldn’t ever
win but Jackson was one heck of a pain in the ass, insisting that you’re a scaredy cat
who’d go crying after two bottles of beer; other GOT7 members joined in teasing,
even naming their favors—or better yet your other hot classmates they wanted to date
if they ever win the drinking game.

Out of the blue, they’re turning you into Cupid, goading to match them with this and
that—except for Jinyoung and Jaebum who just laughed at their silly band members.

Drinking has always been the easiest thing for you, it’s actually your hidden talent but
since Jackson kept provoking, you agreed to it in the end, thrilled to see him
pathetically drunk and have your favor of a free carpool ride. Alas, it’s like hitting two
birds in one stone.

So that night went on, the drinking and the trying to get you drunk which as
expectedly resulted into . . .
“Jaebumssi, are you okay?” you uttered softly, a bit worried as you scanned his face.
“Are you—?”

“No, I’m not yet drunk,” he firmly answered, making you turn to GOT7’s only
survivor. Youngjae.

With the two of you the only ones tough enough to stay sober despite the countless
liquors drank, he met your gaze but knew his hyung’s state. With the looks of their
handsome leader’s face, it’s telling you otherwise. He’s indeed . . . freaking drunk.

Sighing, Youngjae shook his head as if instructing you to ignore Jaebum and just let
him drift into slumber on the couch he’s leaning on and so you did, shifting your
attention to another drunk member who needed your assistance more, like—

“Prince Bambam!” you raised in aggravation, confiscating the phone from the hands of
the man—who drunkenly used a blanket as a royal cape—with a wince. “Stop calling
for wine delivery! You couldn’t even finish another glass. Enough already, you high-
maintenance weakling!” you reproached while Youngjae was hammering his fist on
the bathroom door.

“Yugyeom, open up!” he yelled, annoyed at the maknae who excused himself for the
bathroom an hour ago and never went back. “You rascal! Unlock this fucking door!”

And you both could hear him vomiting his ass out when suddenly a heavy hand slung
around your neck, Jackson clinging onto you as he pouted, “Let’s go home, girl.
Jackson is sleepy.”

You scoffed at how he’s calling himself cutely and taunted back, teasing,
“Jackson is drunk, admit it, dummy!

“T-that’s bullshit. I’m wide awake!” he growled before collapsing beside Mark who’s
red as a beet. A little to the left and you’re stifling your laughter at how Jinyoung
didn’t even make it past two bottles; one glass and he’s knocked down by a feather.

Mischievous, you grabbed a permanent marker and started doodling on the face of
Jackson who’s dead drunk and snoring.

You were too busy with your mission that you failed to notice how Jaebum’s droopy
gaze was glued to you the whole time.

He found himself silently watching you and how your lips curved upwards, your teeth
sinking on your bottom lip as you hold in your smile while drawing whatever shit it
was. His eyes were heavy with drowsiness but he couldn’t stop staring.

You looked happy. And oddly, you looked beautiful. Too beautiful that he laughed at
himself, shaking those thoughts away.

Jaebum, you’re just drunk, he told himself before forcing himself to shut his eyes and
sleep it out instead.

He didn’t want to like you in a romantic way but at some point, he woke up the next
day and saw you cooking hangover breakfast for all of them. Strangely, you still
looked beautiful even when he’s sober.

And holy shit, he blew it; his heart thundering as he looked away, insisting that he’s
 too old for crushes.

It didn’t take long before the other members found out his little crush on you. They
were always lowkey teasing him but he never gave a damn and you equally never
really understood all their inside jokes anyway.

His focus shifted to the battle of the bands and after losing to Bangtan, he didn’t know
he’d lose you to them too—even after winning that spur-of-the-moment basketball
match on the gym. Afterwards, you never returned to the apartment next to theirs
which was a big mystery to GOT7 but then again, they weren’t the type to pry.

The days dragged out in a haze and the next time Jaebum saw you was at med school.
Though you’re both on different classes, you’d still shoot him a smile whenever you
came across him somewhere and it still always made his heart flutter.

At the same time, his respect and admiration towards you grew despite how much he’s
heard rumors about you. Stories about how you ‘whored’ around and dated a bunch of
guys lingered. Others insisted you’re a playgirl who toyed with a band then as time
went by, the gossips about you worsened. He guessed other girls were just that jealous
with how close you were with Bangtan. Luckily, during your undergrad school,
Bangtan was there to protect you unlike now. Poor you, taking all of this crap alone.

But no matter how loud the talks were, you never seemed bothered. He’d always see
you studying alone in the library or in some secluded place—too busy to even react
about whatever shit people say about you.

Wow, just how strong were you? Jaebum pondered in awe.

He was busy with his own studies, his new group of friends never leaving his side, and
you distancing yourself from everyone that the thought of approaching you never
really sparked in his mind. You’re probably dating someone and was still off-limits
until years after . . . one day, he ran into you in the hospital he’s working at.

And that’s how the two of you started becoming close friends—really close friends at
that. You told him most of your secrets, including the whole poly relationship you had
and he shared some of his to you in return.

Despite focusing on different careers, GOT7 would still meet up once in a while and
that included kidnapping you from being too workaholic, dragging you in their van to
join them in camping or just randomly driving away to wherever they wanted to go.

His emotions were kept at bay but somewhere down the road, you twisted Jackson’s
arm because he wouldn’t stop teasing and then the whole gang was in stitches; Mark
even acting like a proud MMA coach.

Back then, Jaebum made peace with himself, insisting that he only saw you as a friend
and nothing else. But his eyes begged to differ.

The more he spent time with you, the more beautiful you became in his eyes.

His series of reminiscing was disrupted when Jackson raises in spite, “If only you admitted your
feelings back then! It wouldn’t end up like this.”

Jaebum shoots him a stoic expression, making Jackson’s purse his lips in a tight line. The younger
sighs in dejection.
“Well, it’s not like you didn’t try,” Jackson says in an undertone, his eyes pointedly looking away
as he feels bad for his friend; the two of them looking back to those moments of almost.

EARLIER THIS YEAR

A week before his birthday party . . .

“But what if I can’t please her? What if—?”

“You’re what she needs!” Jinyoung grouched, his hands desperately flailing in the air; Jaebum’s
phobia of not being enough for you since you had seven men getting on his nerves. “Can’t you
see? They broke up because seven is too much for one woman, you dummy!”

Jackson slapped both his hands on Jaebum’s face as he firmly cupped it, his eyes boring onto the
other. “You being one is your main factor, hyung. Yeah sure, seven men might be great. Woohoo
for her reverse harem! But they’re gone already. They’re over. Because that kind of relationship
was too complicated,” he explicated somberly, “Use being one as your advantage. Think about it!
You can give doc the trouble-free relationship she deserved.”

Jaebum swatted the younger’s hands but Jinyoung resumed his advice, “You could give her
a better reality, you know?”

A better reality, Jaebum couldn’t help but mull over that phrase; all the ‘what might be’ circling his
mind.

“A poly relationship is just too . . . unfeasible. It won’t work,” Mark added, the others nodding in
utmost agreement.

“I personally think you’re doc’s everything-better option,” Yugyeom proudly said, “You’re the
guy who’d get her away from that tragic zone she’s always been stuck at. Save her, hyung.”

The past years of them being friends with you was amazing too; you and Mark were learning more
martial arts together. Yugyeom and Bambam would visit you once in a while and take you out for a
quick getaway somewhere in Gangnam. Jackson, Jinyoung and Youngjae would drop by and drag
you to watch the cinema with them despite you constantly stating that you’d rather sleep at home.

At some point, they grew close to you too and if not for your hectic schedule beginning your return
from your long US vacation, they would’ve been parasites clinging on both you and Jaebum.

“Don’t you see what she does to you?” Bambam claimed, “You’re head over heels in love with her,
Romeo. She’s been your crush since college and we even had a basketball game against Bangtan
just to win her over. You’ve lost track of how long you’ve been in love, dumbass!”

Creases form on Jaebum’s forehead at Bambam’s drop of honorifics but Jackson to the rescue.
Grabbing Jaebum by the face again, he stole his attention and demanded, “Confess!”

“Maybe you should make her listen to the song you’ve been writing about her?” Youngjae
suggested, the others now buzzing, having more thoughts about how their leader should
romantically profess his love for you.

Maybe I should, Jaebum thought to himself.

***

It’s the perfect place, the perfect time. It even took him a thousand nights to muster his bravery;
GOT7 helping him out with his confession plan.

But when he invited you to his birthday party the night before, you unexpectedly declined and he
couldn’t even be upset about it because he mistakenly overlooked one tiny detail—his birthday
being the same day as your grandparent’s death anniversary.

Poor timing.

Maybe some other time, Jaebum said to himself as he expressed how he understood your
situation. All the more so, he offered to drive for you and accompany you, not even thinking twice
of the whole party GO7 had prepared but it was you insisting to go alone.

You were always too considerate and wished he’d celebrate with GOT7 happily without you—
even promising to make up for it next time. Sure enough, you wanted him to enjoy his day, not
knowing that it’s being beside you that would make him the happiest.

The night ended with the plan never being executed—his long overdue confession postponed.

***

A few weeks after . . .

On an early assembly at the hospital, a certain someone was tasked to sing for everyone and boy
did Jaebum knew that instant. It’s gonna be messy with that kid around. He guessed you wouldn’t
like it but you’re a big girl now, a professional physician too. He was certain you wouldn’t let it
affect your work but at the same time, he’d reassure you that you had his back.

It was his chance to find out. With Jeon Jungkook as your intern, he’d know if you’ve truly moved
on just like what you claimed to be. If so, then he possibly would have a chance but if not . . . then
it’s an unfinished business you’d have to sort out.

Heading to your station with your usual coffee in his hand, Jaebum waved at you but you waved at
him with a coffee of your own.

“Seems like someone else beat me today?” he teased, veiling jealousy.

You only hummed, the tone signifying that you’re not in the mood to joke around. “Better luck
next time, gramps,” you said, heading to your first patient; obviously something’s bothering you
too.

The next day, the same thing happened—Jaebum arriving at your desk with the same hot coffee in
his hands while you’re raising your own cup with a faint smile.

Jaebum wasn’t stupid; besides, Jungkook was being too obvious that your friend strode to you,
whispering, “Is he courting you again?”

“What?!” You stiffened, face contorting with displeasure. “What nonsense is that?”

Masking his annoyance with a chuckle, he shrugged. “He’s buying you coffee every freaking day,
granny.”

“So what? You’re buying me coffee everyday back then too and you weren’t courting me.”

Your statement caught him off guard, Jaebum retorting, “Wah! Do you want me to court you
then?” It slipped from his lips, that one big question. He looked at you, eyes filled with eagerness
to know. Just say the word and he would. Fuck, he’d court you—date you—treat you right in a
heartbeat.

But your eyes turned into a glare and before that question could ruin your friendship, he brushed it
off with a humorous remark instead, “Oh boy, that’s the kind of complicated I never thought you’d
want.”

“Stop teasing, asshole. I didn’t mean it that way,” you gritted, too busy taking in your patient
census that you overlook the sliver of sadness in his eyes. “Besides, he gives everyone coffee. No
hidden agendas, okay?”

Jaebum forced a grin, the curiosity taking over him. “What if he tells you he wants to get back?”

You winced. “Why would he?”

“Because—”

“Jaebum, I’m not getting back with him. Not with anyone,” you bit back strictly that it somehow
consoled his troubled heart. “Exes are a major no.”

Oh, he wanted to believe your every word but he just knew you so well that he could see through
your bluffs. Your replies weren’t only for him. It’s as if you’re reminding yourself as well.

Softly feigning a smile, he said, “Whatever you say, doc.”

***

A WEDNESDAY WHERE HE DROPPED BY YOUR PLACE ONLY TO FIND OUT THAT

YOU’VE SLEPT WITH SOMEONE WHILE MISTAKENLY DRUGGED BY YOURSELF

You’re in the middle of chatting when Jaebum suddenly straightened up. It was like a dagger
sharply piercing his center—those love bites on your neck. How he wished it was him who covered
you with it. He’d worship you if you just let him.

In a flash, you froze in place. “Shit!” you barked, startling him.

“Spill the tea, woman.”

“I . . . uhm, went out last night,” you voiced barely loud for him to hear; you’re too guilty to even
look him in the eye.

“What?” His brows raised. “Last time I checked, we were talking on the phone, and you were
nagging about how you wish the tablet would work on you ASAP! How’d you—?”

“Yeah,” you cut in, confessing, “Probably the reason why I couldn’t remember much about last
night. I thought I turned into an alcohol weakling. Turns out it’s just sedative tab—!”

“That wasn’t fucking safe!” Jaebum growled venomously, his face red, eyes squinting meanly, his
voice with a hard edge as he exploded with anger.

He hated how careless you’re always being but at the same time, when he noticed your anxiety, he
apologized for raising his voice. There’s a part of him that just couldn’t stay mad at you no matter
how stupid you were.

With how comfortable and honest you were with him, the conversation continued. Nevertheless,
never once did he tolerate your stupid ideas. It’s not like he could stop you from fooling around but
at least he wanted you safe and in your right mind if you decided to do stuff.

“Don’t ever do it again,” he threatened despite reaching you a spoonful of cake, “I swear I’ll get
angry and won’t talk to you for the whole month.”

You promised to behave, leaving him staring at you with obvious doubt.

All he could do was scold you for it, faking anger when deep inside, the incident only make him
want to look after you even more. He even thought of cleaning up the mess you’ve made if ever
you get . . . you know, pregnant.

Surely, you’d come crying to him if that happens. You hated talking about pregnancy labors, even
disliked being a gynecologist the most because you think it’s just too much of a pain to witness
how women ruin themselves for babies.

But then again, there’s nothing for you to be worried about because without second thoughts, he
knew . . . if by chance you got pregnant, he’d be willing to raise it with you. No questions asked.
Why? Because you’re that dear to him.

Truth be told but falling in love with you wasn’t his plan. It’s just . . . you had his heart before he
could even say no. Tragic yet Jaebum wouldn’t want it any other way. He was in too deep maybe
because you make loving you so natural, so easy and essential. And the funny thing was, he didn’t
even know why.

But maybe love has no specific reasons after all. At least that’s what GOT7 always told him.

***

THAT NIGHT AT THE BAR W HEN YOU’RE MAKING TAEHYUNG JEALOUS

“Maybe you still do have hang-ups on him!” Jaebum poked fun at you and how infuriated you
were because of your cocky ex-boyfriend.

It’s been a while since the two of you were off drinking the night away. What a relief, because he’s
been missing you too. In addition to that, he’s been stressed at work as well that what he needed
right now was your pissed off face that had this effect on him—one flash of it and he’s laughing all
his worries away.

Suddenly, he spotted a familiar face along the crowd.

“Your Mr. Hang-ups happens to drop by this place too,” he whispered and instinctively, you
glanced over your shoulder, checking; your face boiling red at the sight of the arrogant Taehyung.

Again, Jaebum chuckled at that. You always looked like a cute angry dwarf with that glare.

“Ya, stop laughing before I kick your ass!” you warned and he nodded.

“D’you wanna get back at him for humiliating you?” he offered.

When he saw the confusion in your eyes, Jaebum softly said, “Do you trust me?”

{BGM: Waiting—Anthony Lazaro}

And the second you agreed, he leaned closer, discreetly whispering his plan. “I’ll place my hand
on your waist, so don’t be startled. Act natural and keep smiling at me, okay?”
As sassy as always, you immediately flashed a fake ass smile at him, nose scrunching and
cheekbones so high that the both of you couldn’t help but cackle at how ridiculous you looked like.

“Yeah, those kinds of smiles,” Jaebum taunted comically before signaling. “Now.”

The plan commemorated, his hand slowly finding its way to your waist, his heart was racing
frantically. He caught a glimpse of your eyes flashing, your cheeks blushing slightly. It’s no
surprise because the two of you had never been this physical.

Meeting your gaze, it hit Jaebum, the warmth of having you this close to him and a random
realization which had him losing track of time. The thing was . . . what he felt for you came
blindly. No warnings or whatsoever. It just crept on him stealthily. Heck, he wasn’t even looking
for love in the first place but it still came to him. And he found himself suddenly too attached to
you, caring for you without trying. Without asking for anything in return.

Taking advantage of you never crossed his mind which was why he immediately informed you the
next fake flirting move. “Ears,” he muttered, “When was the last fucking time you cleaned your
ears?”

Automatically, you hit his arms, earning a laugh from him. Just the right thing he needed to get his
act together and not drown into this beautiful illusion—you and him flirting like a couple—taking
place at the moment.

“I’m serious. Cause I’m moving towards it. Act like I’m whispering flirty stuff and go giggle,
woman.”

In a trice, you forced a giggle which sounded so awful, the both of you laughing again. God, this
wasn’t as easy as he thought. It’s like a booby trap for Jaebum, every time you giggled had him
falling harder.

“Now I’m gonna move down slowly, don’t be surprised,” he instructed despite the fact that it was
him who was turning jittery with the thought of him coming close to your neck.

You looked at him, unimpressed as if reproaching him for being so technical about this whole
thing. Judging your face, you looked bored at how slow paced he was but he couldn’t care less—
not when he’s immediately intoxicated by the smell of you the instant he approached your neck,
his eyes closing all at once as he breathed you in.

If he took his chances on you tonight, would that lift the boredom off your face ? he silently
contemplated as he stilled himself for a minute. It made sense. After all, he’s been waiting for this,
for the perfect day, the perfect moment; even been branded as the titleholder at delaying this whole
confession by his friends.

Jaebum couldn’t even argue because he’s been stuck in the waiting game since forever, always
postponing the stuff he wanted to say. Out of the blue, all those casually dropping by your station
with your favorite coffee, meeting you at night when you’re both available and dying to release the
built up tension from work, drinking together and just having fun, talking until sunrise—because he
always loved talking to you even if it’s about nothing and just pure nonsensical—hovered in his
mind.

He’s always been in love with you. You’re a lot more special than you think and finally, there’s a
huge pull within him to let it all out. To straight out confess.

But right that instant, why was his lips feeling like stone? His body stupidly uncoordinating.
A little panic came over him and he had to think of other methods to relay his emotions. Gulping
nervously, he brooded over a different approach. Would a quick kiss be easier to understand? His
eyes stealing a quick glance on your lips, he wondered what it’d feel like if he kissed you right that
moment.

Would you be mad at him? Would you slap him? Would you hate him? Or would you kiss him
back?

God damn, he wished you’d kiss back for Jaebum was sure your lips would feel amazing against
his. In a split second, when he thought his heart beat couldn’t get any louder, it did; his eyes
flickering on your lips once more.

He’s never been this tempted to kiss you, his hand slowly cupping your face. One touch and he’s
electrified.

What more when you looked at him with those confused eyes? He’s a thousand times more
smitten than before, his eyes shutting in surrender as he closed the distance.

His lips moving . . .

Towards your ear as he whispered, “Oh, wow. I’m the one surprised. Smells like teen spirit,
granny.” The chance to kiss you vanishing quickly in the air as he opted to joke around and
prioritize your friendship rather than jeopardizing it with an unsure move of greed. It just . . . didn’t
feel right.

Again, you dissolved into laughter and it eased him, his lips curling in a smile as if reassured that
he did the right thing. But then a baritone voice interrupted.

“Excuse me. Can I borrow your, er, lady friend right now?”

In a blink of an eye, Jaebum lost his chance once again when you decided to accompany your ex
and prove yourself.

You’ve told him to go ahead and enjoy his night, even assuring him that you’ll go home safely on
your own but he just couldn’t leave you like that. Despite you moving to Taehyung’s spot, Jaebum
never left the bar counter where you sat, promising himself that he wouldn’t interfere and only wait
for you to leave in one piece.

What he didn’t expect was you leaving the bar with Taehyung clinging onto you. Sometimes—like
this time—he cursed your incredible tolerance with alcohol, wishing that even for once, could you
stop taking care of weak drinkers and prioritize yourself?

But he knew you, you’re independent and he promised he’d stick to his words of not interfering. So
he watched you step out of the place with your stupid ex.

“When will I ever get to say those words?” Jaebum groaned, getting on his feet as well; his long
overdue confession postponed—again.

***

Maybe one of the reasons why he always chickened out was because there’s a part of him thinking
that you haven’t moved on. And to get past his doubts, he had to see it for himself.

Jaebum was a reasonable and fair man. Even though it’s always scary to have you spending time
with your exes, he knew you needed to figure this out on your own. He’d never coerce you to avoid
them because what he wanted was you to decide on your own. To avoid them in behalf of your
own free will.

To him, it’s like a test of how fully moved on you really were and just like any other test, you
wouldn’t pass this one if he wouldn’t let you face your past alone. And unfortunately, with the
looks of your exes, he could predict how slim your chances of passing were.

From time to time, the fear of losing you to them crossed his mind. If he’d just let himself act out
of emotions, he’d take you far away from all of them but then again, that’s stupid. Nobody could
ever cheat on their emotions, not even distance could take it away. Jaebum would rather have you
failing at those tests honestly than have you passing and having him believing that he has a chance
just because you never really took the test from the start.

He wanted to trust you, to have faith in your words of never getting back together with any of them
but the sadness in your eyes just wouldn’t let him have his peace. Hence, he never expected too
much from you, trying his best not to get his hopes up and always preparing himself for that
heartbreaking news of you choosing them again.

Yet it never came.

No matter how much Jungkook bugged you at work or no matter how much Elle talked about her
engagement with Yoongi, and most especially, not even after that night you left the bar with
Taehyung. You remained firm with your decision and he’s both amused and confused.

Maybe you really were over them? Maybe Jaebum finally have a chance?

***

A few weeks after . . .

Jaebum was pissed off; his cousin driving him to the wall. Hence, he quickly messaged you—his
chill pill.

The moment you found out that he’s having family shit, you sent him your location, letting him
crash into the new place you moved in.

All out once, he dove right on your couch, letting out all the rants he had while you listened
attentively and shared your own opinions regarding the matter. Hours and hours, yet you never got
tired of his outbursts, even consoling him with random jokes and silly advices. God, how he loved
that about you.

In no time, all his frustrations were washed away and it’s always thanks to you. However, the both
of you being doctors didn’t exactly keep you wide awake. In fact, you both fell asleep
unintentionally somewhere in between the long talks; you on the couch, him on the comforter laid
on the floor.

A few hours after and Jaebum woke up with the urgency to pee. Immediately, he headed straight in
the bathroom and afterwards, upon his return, he caught sight of you, his Adam’s apple bobbing up
and down at how he swallowed thickly.

Fuck. How careless could you be?!

Your shirt was somewhat bunched upwards, your tummy on display and that’s when he noticed
how short your shorts were, your long legs suddenly looking so tempting.
He shut his eyes and breathed in and out as if trying to calm down. Still, he couldn’t fathom what it
was. Are you purposely doing this? Teasing him and turning him on? Or are you really just that
oblivious?

But with how you’re slowly drifting into a cute subtle snore, Jaebum took the latter. Yes, you’re
this oblivious that it infuriated him at some point yet he couldn’t help but find you so adorable—
with that innocent sleeping face of yours that didn’t even try to look presentable. No signs of any
demureness.

You were so you. So comfortably you that he’s sure you didn’t see being with him and sleeping
with him as anything more than plain platonic.

It was such a kick in the balls yet all he could do was smile, walking towards you to fix your
blanket and cover you up.

Being with you like this would always be a challenge for him. He’s a man after all and you’re a
woman. An attractive and hot woman to be exact. But seeing how he managed to control himself
around you was a good sign. Maybe it’s alright if he offered you his place? He’d rather have you in
his unit and be roommates where he’d suppress all his feelings and desires than have you stay in
this place with you not taking proper care of yourself.

Again, he wasn’t stupid. The instant he stepped into the place, Jaebum was observant. You
obviously didn’t even have your own groceries, meaning you never cooked much for yourself. He
then thought about how you ate and knowing you, you probably didn’t.

It’s always him calling you up in the morning about what breakfast you’d like him to buy before
driving to the hospital. You’ve always been a careless and irresponsible brat with regards to taking
care of your own health. How ironic because you’re a doctor yourself.

Also, you’re too clumsy for your own good but it was okay. To Jaebum, you’ll always be his
number one patient he needed to take care of. And so that night, he decided that when you wake
up, he’ll convince you to just room in with him instead. He’s probably gonna have to bribe you
with a free ride to your new hospital but sure. Anything for his granny.

As usual, he got up before you, even preparing your breakfast with the ingredients he found in the
kitchen. He looked at you, your body carelessly splayed yet again and he sighed, shaking his head.

That sight was such a pain in the . . . in his pants, but he should be able to restrain himself if he
wanted you to move in with him.

Humming, he’s already enumerating his bribery for you when the door suddenly opened. A
familiar someone entering nonchalantly that Jaebum straightened up.

Park Jimin.

Why the hell is he here? Jaebum mulled, his jaws clenching at the thought of you staying with your
ex-boyfriend without even telling him about it.

Fiery sparks coming out from their eyes immediately clashed but Jaebum knew better, forcing
himself to smile and act as casual as he could despite the jealousy overflowing in his body.

Calm and laidback was his approach, even offering his rival breakfast too. “It’s her favorite.”

Jimin replied dismissively, “I know.”

The tension was so thick but Jaebum had to know. “When have you been roommates with her?”

“It’s my apartment. She’s the one rooming in with me.”

That information was surely a hard pill to swallow. “Oh,” Jaebum singsonged, shoving a big
pancake in his mouth as he reminded himself that you’re your own person. And right on time, his
alarm blared, making him get on his feet.

Surely, it was a defeat for him. Losing you to Jimin. But he still had the audacity to taunt before
leaving, “Oh and please tell granny to keep my shirt. It suits her better anyway.”

It was stupid, walking out of the place shirtless but he didn’t care. He was too preoccupied
overthinking about your reasons. Why didn’t you tell him? Were you keeping it a secret? Why?
What is Jimin to you? Did you sort out your relationship and got back together?

Groaning inwardly, Jaebum huffed, pinching his nose bridge at the vexation.

Was it really too late for him?

***

Whatever it was between you and Jimin wasn’t his business and even though it hurt him a bit,
Jaebum still didn’t want to add up to your stress. Hence, he never contacted you after that incident,
waiting for you to make the first approach.

Whenever you’re ready, he told himself, trying his best to understand you. He knew that you knew
you’re in trouble for not telling him beforehand but all he had to do was wait and let you tell him
things on your own time. He wasn’t the type to force you to explain and in all honesty, Jaebum was
a bit terrified to hear what you had to say, too afraid to lose face.

A few nights after and his doorbell suddenly rang, a confused Jaebum heading to open it and—

You clung onto him, face pressed on his chest as you sobbed desperately, tears overflowing.

{BGM: Emerald Eyes—Anson Seabra}

Damn. It hurt him seeing you this broken. All he could do was hug you in silence, trying to show
you that you can lean on him through times like this.

“Are you okay?” he asked but you only continued to cry, your response breaking his heart
furthermore. There and then, all he could think about was this: If you were his, he’d never let
anyone hurt you. Let alone make you cry in pain like this.

Pressing his cheek on your head, he whispered, “Whatever it is, I’ll listen.”

But sadly, you couldn’t even utter a word, your pent-up frustration taking the toll on you. Chest to
chest, he could feel how shattered your heart was. Jaebum tightened his embrace, wanting you to
feel his sympathy, a silent promise that he’s there for you and will always be there—especially in
times like this.

All he wanted to do was dry your tears; the only thing he thought of was how to raise your spirits.
If he could absorb all your pain, he’d take it away for sure.

***

It’s unbelievable how you’re still in tears despite the many hours that passed by, Jaebum sighing
heavily, his thumb wiping your cheek with a frown.

“I told you, maybe you should focus on your future next,” he stated but you remained silent,
snuffling. Rolling his eyes, he pulled your head, forcing you to lean on his shoulder. “Who knows,
there might be someone out there who’d love you and never hurt you and—”

“Out there?” you mumbled, voice filled with doubt and sadness.

‘Right here’ was what Jaebum wanted to say but he couldn’t make his lips move. For he knew, you
didn’t see him the same way he saw you—not when your eyes were blurry with all these tears for
other people. But despite that sad fact, you’d always be his favorite person . . . even if he’s not
yours.

The next day, he saw you spacing out again. Not only that, tears were falling from your eyes—
again. It’s when he tapped your shoulder that you snapped out.

“Shit, gramps. I’m so sorry.” You hurriedly wiped your eyes dry. “I don’t even know why there are
tears dropping. I’m not even that sad anymore. Swear! It just keeps falling. I’m malfunctioning?”

“Dummy, you’re crying because it still hurts. Even kids know that. Can you really live with that?”
he cut you off with an honest yet harsh question.

Your lips quivered as you struggled not to cry. “It’s not like I have a choice. Besides, I always
knew what we had was a losing game.”

Heaving a loud sarcastic sigh, Jaebum taunted lightly, “Yeah, a losing game you had on pause for
years already.”

You glared at him immediately. “Stop poking fun, losing isn’t exciting.”

He didn’t reply because if losing was the subject, then Jaebum was an expert— been constantly
losing since day one.

That same day, he decided that he had to have a word with a certain someone.

Kim Namjoon.

While having coffee, Jaebum initiated to talk about you, revealing his disappointment towards this
man who was your so-called best friend. Without second thoughts, he shared everything that
you’ve been through, even chiding about how you kept feeling not enough when you’ve been
perfect all along.

He pointed out how stupid having seven boyfriend was if none of them could protect you. It’s all a
train of complaints towards them, ending it with a rhetorical question of ‘Do you honestly think you
deserve her?’

Jaebum wasn’t expecting an answer but it seemed like Namjoon wanted to voice out and before he
could even do so, “You’re right. You probably don’t,” Jaebum cut in rudely, “But that doesn’t
matter because she stubbornly wants all of you up until the end and we both know she won’t do
something about it even if it kills her.”

“I’m giving you one last chance,” Jaebum sternly said, “If you guys don’t do something now. I
swear to god, I won’t give her up to any of you. I’ll never let you have her next time.”

Namjoon was at a loss for words, probably thinking what to do.

“Good luck,” he muttered before getting on his feet to leave. A few steps and he stopped on his
tracks, glancing over Namjoon one last time. “If you can’t stop hurting her, I’ll take her away from
all of you for good,” he warned.

But as Jaebum left the café, he knew those were all just empty threats.

PRESENT

By now, the rest of GOT7 has arrived in the room and Jackson has already briefed everyone with
the latest happening; even letting them read what Jaebum’s last messages to you.

{BGM: I’m What You Need—Gabe Bondoc}

“Jaebum, you idiot!” Jinyoung sighs deeply, tone laced with disappointment. “You can’t win
because you never played the game.”

At long last, Jaebum turns to his friends, his eyes unwavering. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he
brazenly says in a composed manner, “She always said what she had with Bangtan was a losing
game . . . it’s been on pause for years . . . but you see, there are always two options in every on-
pause game menu.”

His statement has the others furrowing their brows in confusion.

“What the hell are you saying?” they query.

Jaebum chugs his beer before answering, “If it really was over for her, she should’ve ended it
instead of choosing to continue.” He lets out a heavy exhale, reaching for another bottle to drink.

One gulp. Two gulps.

Using the back of his hand to wipe his lips, he spits, “How could I fucking ‘play the game’ if she
won’t start a new game to give me a chance?” His lips are sandwiched by his teeth and the others
go silent, seeing how teary-eyed their leader is that moment. “I asked her how badly she wanted to
win, but a part of me was hoping that she’d realize that she could win even without her seven exes.
Because I’m right here. I’m right fucking here!”

Silence falls upon the room, the defeat taking over all of them as they empathize with their friend.
After a few heartbeats, the huge emotions die down as he heaves a deep sigh to calm him down.

“I may be what she needs,” Jaebum heartbrokenly trails off, his tongue poking the inside of his
cheek as he tries to pull himself together, “—but I’ll never be the one she wants.” His head hangs
low after that.

His words are filled with sincerity that the others just pat him in the back, pretending to not see
how tears drop on the ground.

If you can’t stop hurting her, I’ll take her away from all of you for good.

He may have said that to Kim Namjoon but in reality, Jaebum could never take you away . . . not
when you weren’t willing to leave those men in the first place. Not when it’s your happiness on the
line.

Why can’t he just be the one you love? he asks in silence.

***

A WEEK AFTER YOUR CHOOSEDAY

“Hyung, don’t do this,” Bambam pleads but Jaebum just snorts softly.

“Bam,” the leader mutters, his eyes roaming the others’ faces. “Maybe leaving is the best thing I
can do for myself right now.”

“Hyung.” This time it’s Yugyeom yearning with a sad frown, his hands trying to take away
Jaebum’s luggage.

“I’ve made up my mind,” he says firmly, no tinge of sadness in his face maybe because he’s
already too numb to feel any of it.

“Jaebum-oppa,” Jackson tries to aegyo his way to stop their leader but it doesn’t work, Jaebum
feigning a chuckle but his eyes were obviously filled with void.

Jaebum’s eyes drift to the floor as he shares, “You see . . . it’s just the way how things end. To her
book, I’m probably just a blank page.”

“Dude, you’re so hard on yourself,” Mark debates in exasperation.

“I’m not,” Jaebum replies blankly. “I’m just telling the truth. It’s fine. It’s normal. There are
always some blank pages in books.”

Mark growls, “Are you really gonna let yourself be a useless blank page?! How can you just let
them take her away?!”

“To me . . . When someone else’s happiness is your happiness. That’s love.” Jaebum smiles sadly.

So sadly that Jinyoung suddenly takes his side; you’ve been a dear friend to them, your happiness
important to them too. “Hyung, blank pages aren’t that useless, you know. It’s like some sort of
break for the readers, indicating rest or something that’ll remind them to brace themselves for the
next chapter.”

However, Youngjae insists, disagreeing, “Hyung, doc cares for you. I’m sure you’re not a blank
page in her life. Don’t—”

“No, I’m sure I’m her blank page,” Jaebum answers, not even a tinge of bitterness in his tone. It’s
as if he’s accepted it with his whole heart. “A sheet of paper that no matter how much she stares at
or scrutinize for the whole day or even for her whole lifetime . .. Nothing will ever happen at all.”

Heavy sighs fill the room.

Calmer this time, Mark explains, trying to console his friend, “Even though it doesn’t have a story
or even anything at all . . . a blank page is still necessary.”

None of them want Jaebum to lose his self-esteem but the leader has already concluded the
situation on his own. “I’ve done my role,” he says. “She’s ready for the next chapter of her life and
I hope it ends with the happiest possible ending.”
Jaebum is just so painfully kind and sincere and loving that their hearts are aching for him.

“How can you think of yourself as a blank page when you’re so full of love for her, hyung? That’s
just so unfair!” Jackson snaps, frustrated.

“What I feel for her doesn’t matter. Because at the end of the day, she’ll never see me that way. I
guess I’ll always remain a blank page to her.”

“Jaebum, you’ve spent thousand nights loving her in silence. Can’t you just try—?”

“Love doesn’t need to be loud,” he fearlessly breaks in, his answer shutting them up. “Now, would
you guys be kind enough to just drive me to the airport without arguing about my decision?”
Jaebum shifts his gaze from one member to another, his eyes disappearing as he smiles. And that’s
the cue for the rest of GOT7 to just let him go.

Just as Jaebum asked, they drive him to the airport and wish him a safe trip despite none of them
knowing when he’d return. He boards the plane, GOT7 driving back with glum expressions.

“To her, Jaebum might be a blank page,” Jackson hums weakly, trailing off, “but to our
leader, she’s his whole book. A book of written love notes using an invisible ink which she
unluckily never deciphered.”

Their friend’s wretched finale has their hearts cracking.

✁-----------------------------------

A/N: Trust me, my heart was breaking and every time it did my hand flies to my chest, clutching
the invisible broken organ as I grunt a raspy AAAAAARRRRRGHHHHHHHHspirin! Damn it,
Jaebum! T.T just. I don’t know. I never fell for a side character up until now. And I honestly didn’t
expect that Jaebum’s character would bloom into this amazing man we all ache for. T.T

Talk to me. How was it? How are you? How’s your day? HOW’S JAEBUM??!? T.T

This isn’t the finale don’t worry. This is only the Jaebum side chapter that nobody asked for except
for my own breaking heart. T.T AAAAaaahhhspirin! hope you had a nice chooseday. T.T
 finale
Chapter Notes

⌦ Warnings: NSFW, 18+, implied smut, impregnation, pregnancy talks, humor and
overflowing fluff, domestic bts, parenting advice, too-many-guys-is-a-headache-
chapter

⌦ A/N: This is the LAST CHOOSEDAY of the month and finally the last chapter of
this series which started January 2019. This is the last roller coaster twist so I hope you
enjoy it. Thank you for those who stayed with me up until now. It was one heck of a
ride and I’m happy to end it with his. I’m sorry in advanced because this unedited,
unrevised, rushed and if it won’t meet your expectation.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Dedication:

This finale is for my number one fan . . . my strong and kind Y/N friend who’s fighting lymphoma
with a brave heart. I still remember how we’re laying on your hospital bed last year and despite
your post-surgery, you still chose to talk about Prove It’s ending with me. And even after that, I
spent my unemployed days in your bedroom, rolling around your bed as we continued to plan this
whole ass fic ending. Remember how you cussed at me when you knew about Thesis It’s
heartbreaking ending just so I could surprise them with this? Can you believe how we’re finally
sharing our final plans to these dedicated readers?

I’m not crying because I promised myself that I will be your power bank, your source of energy
whenever you feel drained and thus I shall not cry no matter how hard it gets. I can’t even be
emotional in front of you, so I’d rather write all these emotions in hopes that it’ll vanish along with
that fucking lymphoma that doesn’t belong in your body.

Stay gold, my love. You’ll always be the biggest reason why I write. Promise me, we’ll get
through this and you’ll let me take you to see different beautiful places around the world.

A few years after Chooseday . . .

They’ve promised, no scratch that, sworn is the right word. Vowed even. To never let anything
break their bond apart. The seven of them made an oath that they wouldn’t fight nor be immature
about certain things. Nothing would tear them apart was the goal however some things are always
meant to be broken.

With eyes glaring, his gaze shifting from one man to another, Jungkook huffs sternly, “Who
would’ve thought that it’ll all go down to this?” His hand balls into fist.

“It’s only fair that I have her this time!” Yoongi growls, ice cold expression.

Taehyung starts arguing, “How so when I loved her the most?!”

Jaws clenching, Namjoon interrupts, “I love her the most!”

The endless bickering resumes again and now all their fists are ready to fly—

“Calling in for the husband of patient 577,” the paging attendant voices out and then all of them
turn their heads to the nearest speaker after hearing your room number. “Your wife needs you right
now. I repeat, your wife needs you right now. She’s about to enter the delivery room.”

“Rock paper scissors!” Namjoon calls out too quickly, the six others’ hands all still in fists while
the leader throws a sly paper. “I win!” he yells before dashing to the delivery room like how the
winner was supposed to be.

To be honest, the seven of them are all nervous and as much as they like to be there, they knew
only one guy could be there with you. And so the many times they’ve argued about this reel in
their minds like an old movie.

It’s your first pregnancy and by the time you’re in your fifth month, no matter how
much you debated against them, the boys just wouldn’t allow you to work or go loiter
around the hospital anymore—not when you’re carrying their baby. Hence, your
maternity leave started. You, agonizingly stuck at home.

Of course, they didn’t let you be bored like hell. Despite all of them attending to their
own jobs and works, they made sure to align their schedules so that there’s at least one
of them left to babysit you every day.

Yes, to them, it’s babysitting; with the whole hormones boiling up inside you, they
actually never knew when you’d explode and displace stuff at them. But never mind
that because they were always more understanding about this whole setup, especially
when they knew how afraid you were of pregnancy since then.

Aside from being a doctor, they helped you look for other interests. Seokjin was
taking you to manage the café he just started, the two of you baking just like college
days and heck it’s pretty fun to do. During Jungkook’s days off, he always spent his
time exercising with you, helping you out with your yoga poses and making sure
you’re safe and extra careful the whole time. Taehyung, on the other hand, tagged
along with your painting-the-baby’s-room session, the two of you splattered with pink
paint as you pictured your little daughter sleeping. When your painting turned into a
chaotic session of throwing paint at each other as you played tag, Yoongi came to the
rescue, fixing the walls you tainted into something more presentable.
When it’s Hoseok’s schedule, he’d usually take you shopping, buying you dresses and
maternity clothes along with the many baby clothes you both pick. Whereas, Jimin
would take you and the pets to the vet, sometimes even taking you on a cute short date
as you strolled to park with your two dogs because Orange, the cat, was always as lazy
as his dad Yoongi—preferring to stay at home.

Lastly, Namjoon would often slip beside you when it’s your bedtime. He’d make sure
to read you a book. Well, not you actually, he said it’s for the baby in your tummy.
Aside from that, he’d help you water the plants in the garden weekly, always insisting
that he’d take good care of you and the baby, the same way he’s taking care of your
beloved plants.

The first thing they ever argued about was when you’re scheduled to attend a
breastfeeding seminar with your partner. Immediately, the room went ablaze, all seven
of them wanting to be there with you, making your groan in annoyance.

“Admit it, you just wanna see boobs!” you accused but after the classic and fair rock-
paper-scissors, Kim Seokjin was laughing aloud, his arm wrapping around you.

“What nonsense is that?!” he prodded, giving you a quick kiss in the head. “Your
boobs are the only lactating boobs I ever wanna see, cupcake!”

It was one heck of a seminar, especially having a handsome partner assist you all
throughout; you could even notice the other pregnant woman stealing glances at
Seokjin—never minding the glares their husbands gave them.

***

A week before the due date, everything was ready; the boys had prepared your
emergency bag, the baby’s room, the baby’s stuff, your stuff, name it! They
already over thought this whole event . . . which was why they agreed to let Dr. Jeon
be the one to witness your first labor. They thought it’d be best for another doctor to
help you deliver the baby, plus they’re all too edgy and panicky unlike their ever brave
maknae. And the fact that the both of you worked as colleagues in the same hospital
would be an advantage, no one would be that suspicious; every employee knew you’re
good friends.

The soonest you started the labor, the six of them who were left in the waiting room
instantly regretted letting Jungkook inside and not themselves. It was nerve racking.
The whole waiting for you and the baby was excruciatingly terrifying because they
were unsure of what’s happening.

You hated the pain—that they knew very well. And it’s also a bad idea to have
watched the horrors of birthing. Hoseok almost threw up at the video of a vagina
getting ripped whereas Taehyung and Jimin were both traumatized. Now it only added
to the uneasiness which had built up.

A couple of hours later . . .

You’re resting on what felt like a deathbed after that worst kind of pain—giving birth.
Your energy had been depleted big time, Namjoon trying to soothe you by rubbing
soft circles on your arm when suddenly the nurse entered the room, carrying your little
bean sprout.
Since the nurse both knew you and Jungkook, she handed the baby to him, seeing how
you’re still a bit distraught.

“He’s so little!” the maknae prompted, his doe-eyes glimmering with mirth.

Eyes on the little munchkin, Jimin squeaked proudly, “He got that from me!” earning
a few laughs from everyone.

Taehyung, on the other hand, tilted his head with confusion. “Why does it mostly just
look like a potato with eyes?”

Again, they laughed while you could only scoff softly, “That’s your newborn you’re
talking about. Stop calling it an ‘it’ and actually name it, you guys.”

Jungkook stepped closer to you, reaching you the newborn and you took him in your
arms. The moment you held it, all the pain washed away. Every pain you’ve ever felt
seemed worth it that you could cry. Well, if not for Bangtan arguing over who gets to
name him.

“Rock paper scissors on who gets to name our kid!” Seokjin raised and suddenly it felt
like the world cup championship; all of them on game mode, their fists out like it’s
their only weapon that matters.

And the time stood still, their hands frozen as they stared at the winner’s trembling
hand. Taehyung.

The victor was literally tearing up at the honor he just received—imagine naming your
first child. The others were patting each other’s back, acting like such good sport since
Taehyung earned it fair and square when suddenly—

“Kim Chi!” Taehyung hiccupped with a big grin, the others groaning at how he didn’t
even seem to think about it at all.

Jungkook retorted childishly, “He’s not a Kim! He could be a Jeon for all you know!”

“Or a Jung!” Hoseok joined the argument, his hands folding across his chest.

“Seriously?!” Namjoon growled, eyes wide. “Chi?”

With a pout, Taehyung grumbled in annoyance, “Fine. I’ll name him Chase.”

“Cheese?!” Jungkook echoed in uncertainty.

Sighing heavily, Seokjin corrected, “Chase, you deaf kid.”

“Why Chase?” Yoongi asked in suspicion. “I bet he still thinks our kid’s gonna
be Kim Chase.”

Ignoring their discussion, you kept your attention on the sweet innocent angel yawning
softly when you heard Taehyung say, “Chase . . . because he’s the fruit of that long
hard chase we had with his mom. He’s the living proof that we made it together.”

And then there was silence—good silence; all eight of you just staring at each other
before shifting your gaze to the little ray of life.

***
The second you’re discharged and off to rest at home, your three other pet-sons
scrambled to greet you and their new brother; Orange, Lime and Pomelo used to
always lick your round tummy and now they’re all brimming with enthusiasm as they
licked Chase’s feet. Never once did they leave Chase’s side, all four of them taking
their naps on the living room couch cuddled up.

Taking care of a living child was the newest challenge but gladly, you had each other
to rely on. To change diapers during ungodly hours. To attend to his needs during
ungodly hours. Every damn thing during ungodly hours. Luckily, they managed to
alternate their days off; hence, no need for nannies.

Sure, you might suck at parenting but at least you had seven lifetime partners who
sucked as well to help you out. For example, Taehyung often communicated with
Chase with their baby talk connection but Namjoon would also interject, “Tae, talk to
our son like he’s a grown man.”

And that’s the leader’s cue before starting to use highfalutin words as if Chase was a
prime minister and the inventor of rocket science when all he could reply to them was
‘Nana’. Meanwhile, Hoseok loved playing with Chase, he always moved the baby’s
chin, puppeteering and making cute baby noises and manipulated the little one’s whole
body into playing tiny drums while he beatboxed.

Jimin was the most excited when Chase got his first walker, always playing with his
baby and even used red cloth as if Chase was a fierce bull charging at him with the
walker whereas Jungkook would work out and take care of Chase at the same time,
lifting weights on his left hand while lifting Chase on the other; heck it always had the
kid giggling from the up and down motion.

On the flip side, Yoongi always knew the trick whenever Chase cried for milk. And
that was . . . to bottle feed him while wearing a mask of your face and putting the
bottle on his chest like it’s his own nipple. It never failed, the little guy would stop
crying yet look confused as hell. Contrasting how it’s Seokjin who mostly ended up
crying to himself whenever feeding the little monster.

Like that one time when Seokjin was eating a cookie and Chase slowly stole it.
His mature dad obviously stole it back, reproaching lovingly. “No cookies until you
have five bites of chicken.”

But Chase shook his head, not wanting to eat the chicken.

“Okay,” Seokjin then bargained, “I’ll give you cookie if you have three bites.”

Again, the stubborn little cutie declined, his hands over his chest imitating how his
dads do it.

“Damn, Chase. I’ll give you a whole pack of cookies if you just lick the
chicken please!” Seokjin exhaled while you only laughed at him.

“Hard to discipline the ‘you’ out of your child, huh?”

Seokjin was making faces at you but it’s no use, your spoiled son receiving the cookie
from Taehyung who loved spoiling him even more.

A year after Chase’s birth and the seven of them wanted to make another child,
wishing for a girl this time. With your partners pouting and begging at you cutely, you
couldn’t resist; truth be told but you wanted a mini you for yourself too.

All of them were busy researching for tips and beliefs on how to create a baby girl, all
were praying for a miracle and you couldn’t help but find them funny. Afterwards, the
breeding week began—their schedules arranged just like last time.

The moment they’d come home they’d impregnate you, taking turns on spilling their
seeds in you while the others took care of Chase. Everything was going out well,
except for one thing . . .

It was during Jimin’s turn that you noticed something strange. Just like a few years
ago, he seemed to be . . . busy, too busy—again. You were waiting for him to come
home but as expected he told you not to wait for him because he’s having an
unexpected overtime.

You told him you understood but things were starting to get too fishy that you had to
sneak into his office and there you found him—

Sleeping on his office couch.

Hence, you went to him and slapped his arm to wake him up.

“Why the hell do you not want to fuck a baby in me?!” you snarled.

He’s startled, eyes flying open at your question. “Kit, what are you saying? I’m just . .
. They need me here.”

“Are you cheating on me?” you probed.

“What the—!? Will never!” Jimin defensively retorted and you sighed, sitting beside
him as you calmed down.

“Ji, what’s gotten into you? What’s the problem?”

He looked pale and sad. “N-nothing,” he croaked, “I’m just really busy, kit.”

With the attendant telling you the truth—there weren’t any meetings or overtime due
dates, you growled, “No you’re not!” You hated it, how he’s lying to you like this.
“Stop this.”

“S-stop what—?”

And you straight up barked at him. “Atonement.”

You knew him way more than he knew himself. Ever since you got back together,
he’s changed, returning to the old Jimin you fell for but more careful this time. It’s as
if he’s making up for the horrible things he did when none of you were even asking
for it in the first place.

With the way he’s acting, it’s pretty obvious; Jimin couldn’t forgive himself and kept
finding himself unworthy of you. Back when he dodge impregnating you during
Chase’s time, you let him be. But it’s your second baby already. You couldn’t just let
this pass.
“Park Jimin.” You cupped his face, forcing him to meet your soft gaze. “The others
have forgiven you. I have forgiven you. And it’s about time you forgive yourself too.”

His droopy eyes instantly teared up. He’s been carrying this thing the whole time that
it felt so light to have you telling him this. “I know I don’t deserve you,” Jimin cried,
sobbing as he hugged you tightly, “But god, I still want you. So badly. I love you so
much. And I’m really sorry for the things I’ve done.”

Snorting softly, you embraced him tighter, whispering, “Do you think I deserve
Namjoon or Hoseok or any of you guys too?” Thinking of all the things that happened,
you chuckled lightly, answering it yourself, “No. I’ve been so stupid ever since we
were in college. But that makes our relationship more real. We’re all imperfect but our
love goes beyond those imperfections, right?”

Still, Jimin wouldn’t answer, sobbing on your nape as he squeezed you in his arms.

“Ji, I’m the most undeserving woman, to be honest. I was stubborn and careless and a
coward. I was trying so hard to distance myself. I broke up without talking it out. Then
I’m this spoiled ass bitch who cried when I didn’t get the things I wanted and I don’t
blame you for teaching me things the hard way. So stop this, okay?”

You pulled away, kissing his tears dry. “Ji, I’m so blessed even when I don’t deserve
anyone. So please . . . fuck me this time. I want your baby in me” you teased, wanting
to lighten up the room for a second and it worked, Jimin giggling despite his tears.

***

Good news came—you’re pregnant again. However, this pregnancy was a

lot harder than the first, making you crankier than usual. You hated the whole thing
especially when you’re past your due date yet the baby still wouldn’t come out.

Luckily, it’s the same year that your friend Jaebum returned. Without second thoughts,
you would’ve marched to the airport but your friend insisted that it’d be best if he just
visited you at home since you’re expecting your little angel and so you conceded.

***

It was Jackson who fetched Jaebum in the airport and as usual, he kept teasing
GOT7’s leader, recalling how Jaebum left the city to escape, running away from you
because it hurt so badly. It’s been a few years since and he couldn’t fathom why his
friend would come back when he’s doing great in the US—great career and all.

“Why come back if you know seeing her happy with the others will only hurt?”
Jackson raised; Jaebum responding with his eye smile.

His feelings might have pacified but it’s still there. If it weren’t, he would’ve found a
decent girl for himself in the US.

“Jackson, can you keep a secret?”

And the driver just sighed an ‘of course!’

“From the moment I saw granny, I knew . . . she’s worth the broken heart.”

Hearing that, all Jackson could do was heave a heavy sigh; his friend didn’t change
one bit—even the feelings he had for you. Poor Jaebum.

A few hours after and Jaebum immediately headed to your place, Namjoon welcoming
him and escorting him to where you were and there in the living room, he finally
caught sight of you.

{BGM: Stare—Rory Adams}

You were holding a watermelon but as you heard Namjoon clear his throat, you turned
around and saw him with Jaebum—the watermelon instantly falling on the plate as
you started crying like a little child.

“Gramps~~!” you called out.

One word from your lips and Jaebum’s heart went wild again.

Getting up from your seat, you strode towards him, crying again; the others just letting
you be. It’s been how many years since Jaebum and all seven of them moved past that
jealousy they had for your friend now that they had Chase.

You went in for a hug as expected and then you’re crying yet again.

“Why? What’s the matter?” Jaebum asked, rubbing your back like how he always did.

You looked up to him and grumbled, “My tummy is full but I want to keep eating!”
Even you, yourself, couldn’t understand your body that it’s frustrating you to the point
that your expression turned sharp and then you’re glaring at Bangtan. “It’s their fault!”
you claimed like a little kid complaining to her parents. “Getting me pregnant with this
kid who won’t come out when he’s already supposed too!”

Jaebum just laughed, the adorable you still had effects on him. The catching up went
on and you told him how annoyed you were with Bangtan since they kept betting
about the baby’s birthday and it seemed like your baby didn’t want any of them to win
which was why it still wouldn’t come out.

Hours and hours of storytelling about what happened since you both parted ways and
Jaebum couldn’t help but stare at you. Of course, he was happy for you and even when
he’s in the US, he’s happy on his own too but he couldn’t get you off his mind no
matter what.

In the end, he decided to return—not to win you over or anything silly like that, but
just to make peace with the reality and be more accepting towards it.

Past dinner time, Jaebum insisted that you should sleep earlier and thus, he opted to go
home and just visit you some other time.

During bed time, when you’re cuddled beside Namjoon . . .

He was playing with your hair, helping you fall asleep when he suddenly blurted,
“You’re so lucky with your best friend.”

“Huh? With you?” you question subtly, “Of course.”

“Not me,” Namjoon answered softly, “Jaebum.”

“What?” You sounded confused about what he’s talking about. “Why is he—?”

“He knows you the best. He must’ve loved you so much,” he concluded.

Creases formed in your forehead at the weird things he’s spilling. You? And Jaebum?
What a silly thing! That never even crossed your mind. “What are you even saying?”
you tossed sleepily. “Of course he loves me. I’m his number one patient.”

Your statement had him shaking his head in disbelief, Namjoon snorting lightly,
“You’re really clueless about the effect you have in people, aren’t you?”

But it seemed like before you could even hear his response, you’re already fast asleep.
It had him musing, how in the world could you be this clueless?

***

In a rather different hospital, you’re stuck inside the labor room with one of your
partners and that’s when it hit you—this pregnancy was a lot harder than the last time
that you almost wept. No matter how much you pushed, the kid just kept holding
back, seemingly too at home inside your belly.

“Please, get out of there, baby!” you begged, voice breaking at the pain when
suddenly you felt something between your thighs and it startled you—Taehyung and
his fingers scissoring your entrance.

“Kim Taehyung!” you scolded, “What the hell are you doing?! Stop fingering—!”

“I’m not fingering you, I’m ‘sweeping off your membranes’!” he beamed, silly and
stupid as always. However, it was somehow effective.

A few breaths after and the procedure went smoothly, his hands tight on yours as you
pushed the baby out of your body. There went another munchkin that almost had you
fainting in exhaustion.

The room was filled with the infant’s cry, your doctor congratulating you before your
eyes closed, drifting to sleep. The next thing you knew, you’re in your suite, your boys
surrounding you; Hoseok carrying Chase while your friend Bom was talking to them
through a video call.

Jimin was carrying the newborn while they initiated the traditional rock-paper-
scissors.

“Why do you guys have to play for it when we all know the kid is gonna be named
after me?!” Bom kidded, recalling how much she wanted to be your second child’s
godmother.

Still, the seven of them played—eight, because little Chase was throwing his fist
adorably too. A few sets of yells and it’s Namjoon punching the air in triumph.

“I’m naming our kid!” he chanted, grabbing the pen to write the final name.

How could you not be woken up with the amount of noise they made? Now, you’re
trying to sit up but Jungkook insisted you stay in bed and sleep a bit more.

They’ve all agreed to name the child after Bom since she’s been begging the whole
time but when they saw what Namjoon wrote, they only scoffed lightly, smiling to
themselves as they exchanged knowing looks.

Beom. Namjoon named him Beom.

When you completed an eight-hour sleep and when your body had slowly recuperated,
you found out what happened and asked in confusion, “Is this a typo? Bom will be
frustrated that our baby is Beom and not Bom.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Namjoon replied, “Potayto, potahto! Sounds the same to
me.”

“Speaking of potatoes,” Taehyung trailed off, his hands reaching for your little
Beom’s nose. “Why do our kids always look like potatoes on their first day of birth?”

Without hesitation, Seokjin smacks the younger’s head with a pillow. “Stop calling our
kids potatoes!”

Everyone was laughing about it, their attention on both you and the newest addition to
the family when Namjoon stepped out to grab a coffee for everyone; Yoongi following
thereafter.

“We all know you’re naming him after Jaebum,” said the pianist.

Namjoon played it cool, denying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, hyung.”

“Oh c’mon! Jaebum was originally Jaebeom, right?” Yoongi spat, resulting in
Namjoon to give in.

“He deserves at least that much token for the favor he did for all seven of us,” your
best friend finally admitted, that one important moment flashing in his mind—the time
when Jaebum asked to meet him in a coffee shop.

“Namjoon, words can’t fix what actions broke,” Jaebum warned him. “I’m giving
you one last chance . . . if you guys don’t do something now. I swear to god, I won’t
give her up to any of you. I’ll never let you have her next time.”

“If not for that man, who knows what the seven of us might’ve did? Maybe we even
parted ways for real due to our own stupidity, right?” Namjoon incited with a chuckle.

Looking back, Bangtan might’ve never really deserved that last chance but he still
gave them a hint which resulted in the whole Chooseday ceremony by the beach. And
Namjoon couldn’t be more thankful that you had such a genuine friend who was
willing to sacrifice for your happiness. To him it deserved to be remembered,
something that Bangtan would always owe him even after all this time.

And speaking of the devil, they came across Jaebum in the hospital lobby who’s
probably looking for your room. With a casual smile, Yoongi approached him,
informing him where you’re staying and without wasting time, your friend dashed to
your room, excited to see you and your baby.

The two musicians caught up afterwards and then your room was filled with stories of
how painful your labor was. Jokes were tossed—puns, gags. It was a fun-filled
conversation but Jaebum called it a day, Namjoon polite enough to accompany him out
of the hospital while the others remained with you.
“Will you ever tell her?” your best friend suddenly worded out, rendering Jaebum
caught off guard.

“Tell her what?” Jaebum responded with a soft smile. A moment of silence followed,
and then he continued, “What difference will it make?”

Out of the blue, Namjoon was at a loss for words; advising someone who’s suffering
an unrequited love is suddenly such a difficult task.

“I just. . . I know she knows I love her,” Jaebum voiced out, “As to what extent? I’ll
just let her think of it on her own.” A small smile formed on his lips.

“You know, my best friend is actually innocent and very much oblivious. She won’t
—”

“She doesn’t need to know anyway,” Jaebum cut him off nicely. “I’m sure the nine of
you will take care of her.”

Nine. What a nice reminder that the family was growing. Dimples popping out,
Namjoon asserted, “That’s a given.”

“Good. I’m happy for all of you. Really. And for naming Beom after me.”

Feeling Jaebum’s sincerity, Namjoon countered with the same manner, “No.
Thank you for taking care of sleepyhead when we’re all too busy being shitheads.”

It was too cheesy, making the two of them wince and laugh. “Anytime!” Jaebum
assured, tapping Namjoon in the shoulder before leaving.

***

Arriving home felt more relaxing when the pets greeted all of you again. With the
newest family member, Beom immediately stole everyone’s attention but then you
realized, having one child makes you a parent, having two makes you a referee. But
after some time, rather that Chase being bothered about it, he was happy to have
someone new to play with.

The two boys were always partners in crime and the mastermind would always be
Orange; from grabbing a box on a top shelf, to littering . . . your pet cat was to be
blamed.

The two of them grew close, you insisting not to make kids anymore because you’re
never granted a daughter. The seven loves of your life said they were content with
having you as the only girl in their life and you believed them despite the little pouts
they always gave whenever they repainted and redesigned the other empty room in the
house which they always labeled as the girls’ room.

On Beom’s birthday, the seven of them talked to you about how they still secretly
wanted to try for a girl. You only laughed at them but when the determination was
evident in their eyes and when all the romance was still overflowing, yes. You
couldn’t resist their plea but you bargained; one last attempt to conceive a baby girl
and if you still had another son, you’ll stop at three kids. And they all agreed.

So the goal was to have a girl, and thus they impregnated you again.
Nine months after . . .

It’s Jimin who won this pregnancy’s spotlight; his hand grabbing yours tightly as he
heaved deep breaths like he’s the one pushing for the baby. He was so nervous that
you had to stop pushing just to laugh at him. This time, the labor went as easy as pie.

All of you knew the drill by then, the seven men ready with their fists to battle on who
gets to name the third baby and by luck, it’s the eldest this time—Seokjin yelling and
rejoicing.

Meeting his gaze while holding onto your child, you asked, “So what will we call this
munchkin, cupcake?”

Everyone was waiting for Seokjin’s answer and he chuckled, “With all the time you
craved for kimchi stew this whole pregnancy and with the countless times Yoongi and
I cooked it for you . . . I think it’s best to name him Kim Jigae.”

“Jjigae as in stew?” you coughed in disbelief. “Like literally kimchi jjigae?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Again with the Kim. Why do you guys always assume our
kid’s a Kim? Min would suit him better. Min Jigae sounds better.”

Jungkook debated, “Jjigae sounds too foodish though—”

With big round eyes, Seokjin looked offended, thus he raised his scissor hand. “We all
love food! And guess what? I won the naming game, kiddo! So I get to name him!
Plus, we’ll call him Jigs. It’s cute.”

Sighing in defeat, all of you let Seokjin fill up the form, accepting the name he thought
of.

***

Six years after that Chooseday, it’s a different kind of happiness to get home knowing
that your family was complete—you, the seven loves of your life, the three fruits of
your love and the three tiny four-legged bundles of joy.

By your third son, you’re more capable and being a mom became natural to you that
even when Jigs would cry out, “Meaakshc!” at them, your partners replying a
perplexed ‘What??’ . . . you from downstairs would shout a translation.

“He said he wants some milk!”

Yes, the experience from Chase to Beom made you this skillful.

TWO YEARS LATER

As Bangtan took care of you and the kids, you could notice their characteristic
differences, like how Chase, seven, seemed to love sports more—basketball,
swimming, high jump—and that’s all thanks to Yoongi, Jimin and Jungkook who
eagerly tucked the kid into it the instant he learned how to stand. He also has this
sharp business-oriented mindset and that’s all on Seokjin who used to give him
bedtime stories about economy and money. Yes, you once caught him discussing that
to your poor sleepy child and he said it was the best sleeping topic.
Let’s focus on our middle child for a while said no parent ever! Yes, that was the
norm but your household wasn’t normal; all of you were giving attention to everyone
as fairly as you could. But there would be talented kids out there . . . like Beom, five,
was more of a musician; his life revolving around the drums, bass and violin—
influenced by Hoseok, Namjoon and Jimin. Not only that, he danced and sang like
Hoseok, Jungkook and Jimin too; a performer at heart. His interest in photography was
also obvious and that’s because of Taehyung who’d ask the kid to accompany him to
take pictures in the park from time to time.

Mischievous, Beom would then steal all your phones just to sneak a selfie.

On the other hand, the youngest, Jigs, three, was the ultimate ball of sunshine. He
always brought laughter in the house even if he wasn’t trying.

There was one time when he’s about to hit his head on a bar in a playground so Jimin
yelled, “Duck!”

But your smart little Jigs just quacked at him with a big grin on his face and then hit
his head eventually; his fathers rushing in to soothe the bump on his head while you
only sighed behind them. “Oh, damn. He got both the clumsiness and dorkiness from
Namjoon.”

With his two hyungs having many activities, Jigs was left to play with the pets at
home, treating them like siblings. Gosh, that kid was the embodiment of animal-
friendly. He loved animals so much that he’d cry when he saw fried fish on the dinner
table.

He also seemed to have this fondness to your stethoscope that whenever he caught
sight of it, he grabbed it. Oh, how proud Dr. Jeon was until Jigs was choking because
he put it on his neck incorrectly.

Most times, he’s also your source of headache with how unimaginable his questions
were.

“Goodnight, baby!” You kissed his forehead, tucking Jigs to sleep.

“Mom, would you eat the moon if it was made with ice cream?”

You never realize how weird you were until you had a kid who acted just like you.
Exhaling deeply, you said, “Jigs, stop thinking about food. You’re making mommy
hungry too.”

Your relationship with your sons was amazing; however, Bangtan’s relationship with
their sons was on a whole different level—it’s borderline chaotic and domestic.

For example, Seokjin would help his sons search for the cookies which he ate last
night. Evil, yes. Meanwhile, Yoongi would drag his exhausted body to the court just to
play basketball with the kids even after his work.

He embraced being their coach whenever he’s left with the kids to the point that they
got used to calling him Coach.

“Are you sure you wanna let them call you ‘coach’?” you asked, worried.

Flashing his gummy smile, Yoongi nodded. “To be honest, when I was thirteen . . . my
dream was to be a coach. Now, I’m fulfilling it with our kids. Maybe we could add
more boys in the family?” He smirked, his hands crawling to your thigh as he started
kissing your neck, whispering, “We should make more babies, angel.”

“Min Yoongi!” you reprimanded softly and when he stopped, you taunted, “You’re
already a team of ten—seven men with three kids and are you sure you don’t want
them to call you ‘sugadaddy’?”

He fake-laughed, scoffing. “You’re the only one who can call me that, baby.”

On the other hand, Hoseok loved taking videos of them—his whole gallery
overflowing with the kids; even doing Tik Tok routines in public places with them.
And boy, you’re their number one fan. If you’d ask about bedtime, the little boys
loved it because Namjoon would always read them adventure stories while they
pretended to be knights and heroes running around the bedroom.

Some days, you’d arrive home with everything a mess. Tons of plastic traffic cones
scattered in the house, you heard them cheering and shouting in the backyard just to
find out that they’re having a race battle between the kids.

Chase, Bom and Jigs were all riding their race car toy, and their dads were all rooting
for them, even wearing shirts with pictures of their winning bet.

{BGM: Lemonade—Jeremy Passion, Gabe Bondoc}

Watching them from afar, you could only shake your head with a smile. Boys will
always be boys, you mused but never would you consider exchanging them for
anything else. Imagine being the only girl in the family—only you could relate to it.
You’re their queen, their princess, their goddess, their one and only and you loved it
every second.

You reminisced all those times they spoiled you, like when you’re camping and
cooking in the backyard last month; all of you in cute matching aprons.

“Do I have something to do?” you inquired, batting your lashes at them who were busy
preparing dinner and teaching the little ones to prepare the table.

Seokjin would kiss you in the forehead, smiling. “Nothing. You’re just . . . beautiful.”

“Why am I wearing an apron then?” You frowned.

“Matchy matchy!” Taehyung answered with a grin.

As promised, they didn’t let you do any chore, insisting to let you rest; hence, you
only observed, watching Yoongi roast the BBQs, Seokjin cooking pasta while the
others played with the kids and set up the table. You were their official cheerleader,
their taste tester.

Reaching you a spoonful of spaghetti sauce, Hoseok halted to blow it off. “Oops!
Careful, peaches. We don’t wanna burn that wonderful tongue,” he teased naughtily,
making you blush.

“Hoseok-nim, the kids are here,” you retorted discreetly.

“They’re kids. They don’t understand anything,” he groaned and that’s when Beom
pulled your shirt.

“Mommy, why is your tongue wonderful?”

There and then, you glared at Hoseok, the seven of them stifling their laughter as they
waited how you’d respond to your son’s question.

Faking a smile, you replied as wholesome as you could, “Everyone’s tongue is a

blessing, baby. That’s why you should be careful not to burn it when you eat, okay?”

You chuckled to yourself when you remembered another time when you argued with
them for spoiling the kids too much. But they pointed out that you were being too
busy for the ten of them, thus winning the argument and making you angry because
they kept ganging up on you.

The seven of them kept bragging that they were right and earned the pillows and
blankets thrown at them; all seven of them camping to sleep outside the house together
—their sons pitying them and having to join them because sleeping outside looked so
fun for them.

Sleeping outside was supposed to be a punishment for them but it turned into a party.
Suddenly, it sucked having to be the only girl with no allies when it came to this.

However, there was also one afternoon last time where they all left to get Chase and
Beom from daycare and you got home from work before they could come back. A few
hours later and you heard honking from outside, their signal that they’ve arrived so
you stood to greet them.

They scrambled to get off from the pickup truck and you heard Taehyung shouting
enthusiastically, “First one to give mommy a hug wins a new toy!”

Like a ray of light, you witnessed how all ten of them ran towards you; Jungkook and
Seokjin even competitively grabbing the kids and pulling them behind him so they
could run towards you faster. The clumsy Jimin tripped, kind-hearted Jigs helping him
out. Hoseok, Namjoon and Taehyung got stuck with the pets whereas Yoongi’s
dashing to you with his L-shaped arms, winning the first tight hug.

Not long after, the others would squish you in a big group hug and you’d feel the most
contentment in your whole life.

There’s also another favorite memory you had with them two weeks ago where they
were bathing in a small Jacuzzi bathtub—all ten of them cramming inside while they
acted like it was a pirate ship and they were your lost boys.

“Mom, who’s the most handsome?” Chase questioned, all eyes suddenly darting on
you.

Smiling, you raised your hydrophobic cat. “Orange.”

With your answer, all of them started splashing water at you which ended up to all ten
of them wrestling playfully in the tub.

Again, it was that moment where you’d look at them and realize that no matter how
complicated the situation was, how messed up your reputation would be, seeing them
happy together was all that mattered.
You didn’t give a damn if the other doctors at your workplace whispered gossips
about you and Jungkook, nor were you affected when some people in the
neighborhood threw suspicious looks at you and the seven men trailing after you
inside the house day after day.

You all told them that you’re just tenants sharing the house in order to have peace but
most of the neighborhood didn’t buy it.

You weren’t deaf; you knew they were talking shit about you behind your back,
spreading rumors of how you’re sleeping with all of them and cheating on all of them
secretly too. To them, you were Medusa, cursing these beautiful men and ruining their
lives by looking into their eyes and turning them into stones. They were drawn to
Bangtan, worrying that their lives had been on a complete stop because of the setup
they had with you.

Most women wanted a shot to be their wives but they obviously couldn’t touch them
when Bangtan was always following you around, helping you out and living with you
in the same roof.

Still, there were other heaven-sent neighbors, like Mrs. Gold. She didn’t necessarily
defend you, but she loved you and Bangtan so much that she argued with those people
who talked ill about the eight of you.

Once at work, you were eating at the cafeteria with Jungkook and heard another table
from behind talk about how you had kids from another man while Jungkook’s still
being this smitten at you at work.

“What a cockslut,” they murmured.

“Omg, I’m a cockslut.” Joking around, you lowly feigned surprise, making Jungkook
lighten up. “They should tell me something I don’t know.”

Hereafter, the two of you just brushed it off, laughing together.

Luckily, some colleagues in your hospital respected your privacy. It was obviously
that both you and Jungkook were off-limits and had this amazing connection. They
loved both of you so much that they just wanted you to be happy. So they never asked
personal questions that might make things awkward, sheltering you from rumors like
that.

One of the downsides which made you really sad was your families—your mom,
especially.

The first time you got pregnant, she wanted to meet your husband but you told her that
he’s busy. Now, you already gave birth to three kids and she’s furious and hella mad at
you.

“When will you introduce your god damn husband?!”

Biting on your lips as you looked at the tiny camera, you answered through the video
call, “He’s . . . uhm busy.”

“Busy?!” you mom howled, “He gave you three kids and never had the audacity to
meet me? That asshole! Tell me honestly, do you really have plans of getting married?
Or did he leave you already?”
You couldn’t even answer because she kept throwing skeptical theories, rendering you
speechless.

“Namjoon and your friends have more time to tend to your children rather than
whoever the damn he is! Maybe I should ask Namjoon if he knows who the father is.”

Your best friend who’s on the other side of the room looked at you knowingly as if
asking if you needed him by your side. But you just gave him a signal that you’d
handle this alone.

“Mom, please. Just let me be. Maybe I don’t need to get married. What matters is that
I have my sons.”

“Can you even take care of three sons alone?! What are you thinking?!”

Heaving this heavy sigh, you answered, “Namjoon and the rest have always been
supportive. I’m—”

“And if they start having families of their own? What happens to you then?!”

You couldn’t even blame your mother for thinking about that because there were times
you thought about that too. If only she knew the fears inside your head. But you knew
she’d never understand why you entered this kind of setup so you answered, “I’ll take
life one step at a time. I’ll worry about that when it happens, okay mom? Besides, I got
you, right?”

Yielding, your mom asked to talk to his grandsons instead. Still, she’s lucky she knew
she had grandsons . . . unlike Bangtan’s family who remained clueless.

Hoseok’s and Taehyung’s family were mad at how they said they didn’t want to have
wives. Jiwoo, Hoseok’s sister and Eunjun, Taehyung’s sister were both kind to you,
unlike their parents who seemed to have sensed that you’re the reason why their sons
didn’t want to settle down.

Yoongi’s and Jimin’s remained passive. Of course, they had called out their sons
attention about the matter but when they told them that marrying wasn’t in their
vocabulary, their respective families didn’t push them further. Whereas, Seokjin had
been out of the family registry ever since he ditched his fiancée.

Jungkook’s family couldn’t do anything about his decision to not start a family
because he kept insisting that he’s married to his profession—his patients were his
wife.

And it’s only Namjoon’s family that’s supportive of having you and your kids as part
of their own. Even with the story that your kids were from someone else, it was never
an issue to them. They loved you and seeing Namjoon happy with you and the kids
made them happy too.

It was the most complicated setup in history—none of them having the freedom to tell
the world that they were dads. But secretly, they all signed to be your children’s legal
guardians if something ever happened.

The eight of you chose this, knowing that there’s no perfect life. There’d only be a
happy life if one chose to look at it in a happier way and the family you created
together would always be worth every consequence life would throw at you.
Having them in your life would always be enough. It’s worth the fight, worth the stink
eye, worth the rumors, worth being disowned and being questioned by the others.

But perhaps, the biggest setback of this relationship was having to lie to the children.

One night . . .

“Coach.” Chase snuggled closer to Yoongi. “When will we meet our dad?”

That dreadful moment came, leaving Yoongi pale and in panic. “Uhm. I don’t know
much about your dad . . . But hey, we can be your dad. Dads, I mean. Don’t you like
having seven dads instead?”

With an unsure hum, Chase answered, “Well, as long as I have seven dads now. I
guess it’s alright.”

The next night . . .

Doing his aegyo, Chase climbed your bed and hugged you. You wanted him to sleep
but before he closed his eyes, he asked, “Mommy. Can a kid have seven dads?”

Dumbfounded, you stared at him and it’s Namjoon saving you from the shocking
interrogation. “Well, Chase. Some lucky kids like you get to have seven dads. Isn’t
that wonderful?”

“It is, captain!” he chirped lively; the nickname they had for Namjoon imprinted in his
mind due to the many times they read Peter Pan during bedtime stories. Then, Chase
turned to you. “But what’s your relationship with them, mom? My teacher taught us
about fathers and mothers being married. And I got confused.”

Gulping down, you nervously replied, “They’re . . . mom’s best friends.”

“Kiddo, we don’t want your mom to be alone,” Namjoon backed you up.

“Because our daddy left?”

You nodded and it was enough to get him to sleep. Indeed, the both of you felt so
shitty lying to Chase like that but you had to. Afterwards, you turned to Namjoon,
consoling him because you knew deep inside . . . Namjoon wanted to be a proud dad
for the kids too.

Apart from your families, the main anxiety you always had was the fear of having your
kids bullied because they had a mom like you. And so their dads raised them to be
strong and brave and smart but with manners; Jungkook insisting that the kids learn
martial arts at a young age.

That’s when Chase got trouble in class for kicking a classmate. The instant you heard
the news, you strictly reproached him about it but your son was insisting it was self-
defense and Jungkook stood by him, defending.

You wanted to understand but you didn’t want them spoiling the kids too much that
the argument turned into a big one and you’re taken aback when Jungkook
unintentionally yelled at you in front of Chase.

Your eyes narrowed and in a blink of an eye, both your son and the heroic Jungkook
were kneeling and taking in your punishment as they apologized and promised that I’d
never happen again. Whereas the other six with Beom and Jigs who were observing
from the other side of the house were preaching, “The lesson for today is to never go
against mom. She’s scarier than dinosaurs.”

Afterwards, they made sure to check on Chase and Jungkook. When they asked about
what happened, they found out that Chase got into a fight because one of his
classmates told him that you weren’t married and that it was wrong. Chase defended
you but his classmate was being mean and rude which ended with a kick and a session
with the principal.

Beom was sad but it was Jigs who was curious. “What is marriage?”

All seven Bangtan turned to Namjoon, expecting him to answer so he did, “Well,
marriage is when you promise to be with someone you love for the rest of your life.”

The youngest’s eyes lit up. “Oh! I wanna marry mommy! I’ll marry her so Chase-
hyung wouldn’t get into fights!”

He was so sweet but Seokjin countered, “Jigs, buddy. You can’t marry your mom.”

Round eyes and teary, Jigs hiccupped, “Why?”

“We can’t even marry your mom. What makes you think we’d let you marry her before
us?” Yoongi said in an undertone, earning an elbow hitting him in the gut and a few
glares from the others.

Leveling himself to his son, Hoseok scooted down, cupping Jig’s face. “It just doesn’t
work like that, buddy. Someday, you’ll understand.”

With that being said, the three-year-old instantly cried, running to you in a heartbeat.
“Mommy!! They won’t let me marry you!”

Hearing that from your son made your heart melt but looking at your partners and
realizing that they, too, wanna marry you was another type of butterflies in your
stomach.

Having kids had never been easy but because you had seven of them to assist you, it
was manageable. Plus the fact that they all never stopped being passionate for you.
Despite the years that passed by, their love for you didn’t change one bit. They’re all
such amazing partners who never let the heat of romance die.

From time to time, they’d still take you out on dates—individually or sometimes the
whole group. But there’d always be the burden of refraining from too much public
display of affection. That’s a given because the eight of you had established rules to
live by with the setup you had, like no claiming of you as anyone’s wife to avoid
rumors.

Everybody complied with those rules in the beginning until . . .

It all started when Jungkook kidnapped you, dragging you to the airport after your
shift at the hospital.

“Baby, where are we going?” you asked with confused eyes.

“You’ve been so stressed at the hospital. I’m diagnosing you with ‘exhaustion’ and my
plan of care is to have you relax with me this weekend!”

You chuckled at his silliness but there were no traces of humor in his face. That’s
when you started to panic. “But what about the others? They’re gonna—”

“I told them we have a seminar to attend to the whole weekend and they’ve already
fixed their schedule. They’ll be fine,” Jungkook reassured, his bunny smile flashing at
you. “And don’t you miss having dates with me, noona?” he teased.

{BGM: Vacation—Johnny Stimpson}

To your surprise, he had you flying to Dubai, dropping bombshells that he had booked
a luxury hotel with the nicest view of the skyscraper, Burj Khalifa—making love to
you all night with that. The next day, he took you out to skydive, insisting that you
both need to appreciate life and have this thrilling adventure when med life had been
draining both of you lately.

You’re both gone for only two days but heck, you loved every second of it. Returning
home, you were both giggling like highschoolers when asked about the seminar—a
secret you both wanted to keep.

But sadly, no secrets stayed secret because a few months after that, it’s Taehyung
dragging you out of the country too. You couldn’t even decline because he threatened
to tell the others about you and Jungkook breaking the rules of ‘no acting like a couple
in public’.

It’s funny though—reminding you how he used to blackmail you too and you realized
that some things never really change.

“I’ve been wanting to unwind,” Taehyung uttered, his fingers intertwined with yours.
“And I’ve been wanting some alone time with you too.”

Before you know it, you’re strolling around Italy, jumping from one restaurant to
another as you held hands; your outfits both making you look like a vintage couple
who’s so in love with each other.

In one fine restaurant, a couple on the other table was given a free delicious dessert
when the man proposed to his girlfriend and that had the two of you smirking.

Without second thoughts, Taehyung bent one knee to the ground, pulling out his gold
Chooseday ring while you hid yours. “Doll, will you marry me?!” he inquired, loud
enough to let the other people hear it and all at once, the venue clapped their hands
when you nodded.

He stood up and hugged you, spinning you around as if you’re in those romantic
movies and you couldn’t stop laughing at the act you both just pulled.

True to their policy, you received a scrumptious pudding—the best tasting pudding
ever but maybe that’s because you’re sharing it with the sweetest person in the world.

“I can’t believe you’re my fiancée already!” Taehyung teased, wiping invisible tears
on his cheeks and you giggled.

“You better cherish this night of being my fiancé because the six others would punish
us if they knew this.”

Another month after, it’s Jimin taking you out, insisting that his company gave him a
free trip to Hawaii and he wanted his favorite doctor to come along. Oh boy, did his
open buttoned Hawaiian shirt make you drool; his sinful body reminding you how
sinful it always was being stuck with him.

Jimin would fuck you anywhere you wanted to. He’d fuck you in a private yacht, on
the shore when you dragged him to skinny dip in the middle of the night. Aside from
Hawaii itself, the trip was indeed paradise—and it’s all thanks to Jimin and his kinky
ass.

By the time the two of you went back, the six others found out about your ‘escapade’
because a kind acquaintance at a bar sent Jimin a pineapple at home with the note of
‘Congratulations to you and your beautiful wife.’

And that’s how the maknae line got busted from taking you out on dates out of the
country.

Aside from having the three troublemakers edged and denied of orgasm while they
watched how their hyungs fill you up, you’re set to have dates with the four others to
be fair too.

The maknaes insisted that they preferred taking you out to another country so no one
would care how public they got with you and with that, your kitchen wall was installed
with a big map of the world dart board; all of them agreeing to let darts decide which
place they’ll take you to.

With Namjoon’s luck at darts, it’s no surprise that he’d end up hitting Korea, resulting
for others to guffaw—no out of town for the both of you. But your smart best friend
didn’t let that hinder his moment. Clever, he bought tickets for the kids and the six
others to a park for the whole day, leaving the both of you at home . . . relaxing.

Oh, how you loved the serenity of having no noisy toddlers with noisier fathers
roaring in the living room. You’re just cuddled in Namjoon’s arm after a day of
whisking water at each other as you watered the plants in your garden. You never
thought a day would come where you could read in peace, holding hands. Truly,
there’s always no place like Namjoon’s arms.

With Hoseok’s turn, the dart landed on Thailand and a few months from that, you and
your college crush were partying at the city’s best bar.

It was so fun to flirt with Hoseok, his hands all over you at the bar where no one cared
about who you both were. He’d kiss you, whispering sweet nothings to you until you
turned red and when you’re too turned on, he’d drag you back to the hotel and fuck
you senseless.

The next day, you’d drop by the cheap markets and when you’d see something cool
and attempt to buy it, Hoseok would hesitate. “The kids would break it though?”

Groaning inwardly, you responded, “When you said kids, did you mean ‘Namjoon’?”

And that’d make the both of you chortle—the cool item still bought and yes, as
predicted . . . not a week after and it’s already broken at home.
Months after and when Yoongi’s dart pierced Africa as your destination, he was
thrilled; the both of you were actually.

“Damn yeah, I’ll definitely tell Africans that you’re my wife with three kids!” he
jested, wrapping his arms around you.

But a week before your flight, you had an important emergency assignment at Daegu,
making it impossible for you to push through the trip.

Pouting at him, you asked him to just spend the week with you at . . . none other than
his hometown, Daegu. The disappointment was evident in Yoongi’s face. Not only did
you both have acquaintances there, his family might come across you two too—
goodbye to the unlimited flirting he had in mind.

Arms folder over his shoulder, he spat, “If you think you can bat your cute li’l eyes at
me to get whatever it is you want . . .”

You frowned further, afraid that he wouldn’t come along.

“Then you’re absolutely right, my angel!” Yoongi added, embracing you. “Let’s just
reschedule our safari trip. You know I’d love to spend time with you wherever we end
up at. And though my original plan was to have you screaming my name until our
African neighbors knock to shut us up, that doesn’t mean I can’t make the pillows on
our bed muffle your screams for me in Daegu, right?”

Lastly, it was Seokjin’s turn; his hand pointing the dart somewhere in Switzerland
since he’d been eyeing that place for a while. But with the kids playing around, Chase
suddenly jumping on his leg, Seokjin ends up throwing the dart unexpectedly—the
dart flying and hitting . . . nothing. It landed under the kitchen table and all of you
laughed at him.

“Okay! Have fun under the kitchen table next month, hyung!” Jungkook teased,
tapping him by the arm.

“Ya!” Seokjin’s ears were red. He wanted another chance but none of them were
letting him. It’s always fun to tease him around.

By the next month, you’re surprised that he really did accept dating you under the
kitchen table. It was honestly cute to see him setting up a small bed, the living room
turned into a theater and then your kids and pets were all cuddling with him together.
It’s like playing house under your real house, with your real kids.

It might not be the date you wanted to have with him, but it’s definitely one of your
favorite dates all throughout.

“Mommy could play as your mom. I could play as your dad. Orange will play as our
grumpy neighbor and Lime and Pomelo would be your friends from school,” Seokjin
urged, playing house with the kids and you.

It made you reminisce how you used to be in a fake relationship and looking at him
now, you couldn’t believe he’s still going in for your fake husband up until today.

“Cupcake, I love you,” Seokjin said, surprising you. When you’re too tongue-tied to
reply, he explained, “Kids, that’s how you court the most beautiful woman in your
classroom. Okay?”
Chuckling, you flicked his forehead. “Stop teaching the kids how to flirt at such a very
young age.”

***

The rules . . . well, nobody strictly followed the rule because whenever they’re given
the chance, they’d claim you—brag how lucky they were to have you as their wife.

Equally, you acknowledge that you’re seven times luckier to have them in your life,
like how you’re bragging your family to your two friends, Bom and Gaeul in another
video call.

Bom snickered. “My daughters go to bed without fuss.”

And that statement had Gaeul roaring. “Wow! And here I am researching tranquilizer
darts for home use!”

As if on cue, you laughed and they asked you.

“My boys aren’t something we couldn’t handle. Especially when Namjoon gives them
amazing bedtime stories.”

All of a sudden, Gaeul screamed, yelling at her kid who seemingly drew at the walls.

Bom was calm, commenting, “Don’t scold them. They’re making memories.”

“Don’t mind the mess my kids are making memories. Of me yelling at them to clean
the mess!” Gaeul bit back, making you laugh again.

After chasing her kids, Gaeul returned, looking all stressed; you cooing, “You need to
rest, hon.”

“We can’t all look good at the same time. It’s either me, the kids or the house,” she
answered defeatedly.

And instinctively, you smiled, thinking about the pros of having seven husbands.

Both your friends noticed you, and they asked, “Does Bangtan have parenting hacks?
How are you so happy?”

Brows raising, you echoed, “Parenting hacks? There are no hacks. Everything is hard.
The kids don’t listen. Godspeed.”

That was apparently so relatable that Gaeul exhaled, “Sure sometimes I question my
parenting. But honestly, sometimes I question my child’s childing way more.”

Bom was nodding on the other line. “Like I miss doing my old hobbies. I bet our poly
friend still manages to do hers.”

Rolling your eyes, you taunted, “Hobbies? I’m a doctor and a mom. I enjoy trips to the
bathroom alone and silence. But when I say ‘I’m going to the toilet’, my boys hear
‘family assemble in the bathroom now!’ I mean . . . they’re literally following me
everywhere!”

Your friends almost guffawed at your story—imagining how cramped it must’ve been.
 “Raising kids is like a walk in the park,” Bom trailed off, “Jurassic Park.”

It was relieving to know that you all shared these mom problems. “Parenting is a
constant battle between going to bed to catch some sleep or staying away to finally get
some alone time,” Gaeul concluded.

And you added, “I used to wonder why my mom never got sick when I was little. Now
I know she did get sick. She just didn’t have the time for that shit.”

Your friends were suddenly concerned. “You better take care of yourself. And
mentally get some peace. Don’t mind the rumors and the stink eye,” Bom reminded.

You nodded, assuring them. “Of course. But the funny thing is . . . no matter what life
throws at me at least I don’t have ugly children!”

***

It’s two months after your ninth Chooseday anniversary that you had the time to
celebrate because the hospital you worked at was trying to expand, needing your
assistance.

Your partners had been understanding and as usual, they still planned for something
special—never mind the delay.

They took you out, just the eight of you; the three kids and pets left with Nabi to
babysit.

In a nice garden, they set up a picnic and afterwards, you stargazed together.
Everything was romantic which eventually turned into a steamy gang bang which
you’ve missed doing—except for the fact that you forgot to drink your pill. And you
only realized that the next day, when you’re feeling nauseous after that wild night with
them.

A tiny mistake of accidental pregnancy was the reason for all this—which brings us
back to the beginning of the story.

On your tenth Chooseday anniversary . . .

“Rock paper scissors!” Namjoon calls out too quickly, the six others’ hands all still in fists while
the leader throws a sly paper. “I win!” he yells before dashing to the delivery room like how the
winner was supposed to be.

Hours after your labor, you and Namjoon returns back to your regular room as he carries your first
ever baby girl.

It’s such a glorious moment for the seven of them to finally have a little princess. You’ve all been
praying for her and you never expected that the heavens would still give it to you after all those
many tries.

It may not be your first pregnancy, but this is the first competition regarding their princess which is
why naming your beautiful daughter is something they’re super serious about.

“Can you stop the crap and just decide who gets to pick a name?! The nurse is already waiting for
her birth certificate!” you seethe, the stress taking over you despite having to just finish giving birth
to a cute angel.
Deep is an understatement of how Bangtan breathes—once, twice—before they’re preparing
themselves to battle for the ultimate rock-paper-scissors.

“There they go again,” you whisper to your little princess as they fight over her.

This time, the victory goes to the ever so boisterous Hoseok who wouldn’t stop shouting and
jumping in happiness. When he’s calmed, he goes to kiss both you and the new baby a kiss on the
forehead as he says, “We’re gonna call her . . . Hope.”

Suddenly, that word becomes the most beautiful in your world.

It’s been ten years since Chooseday and those are all amazing things that happened. But this,
having to give birth to Hope which you all prayed for is another unforgettable experience.

Well, another unforgettable experience was them getting you pregnant after Hope’s first birthday
party. How insatiable could they be?!

You can’t even get mad at them because you know how much they love children, especially when
you all find out that it’s another girl.

After that revelation, you tell them that you want this to be your last pregnancy and they accepted
your decision.

Just like the previous drills, Yoongi wins the support-wife-on-labor award and they battle for the
last naming of your children.

Seokjin won’t stop yapping about how he wants to name her Usan which means umbrella,
reminding you of the little love story you have with the umbrella tree in the coffee shop’s
backyard.

However, the odds favor the maknae this time around. Jungkook doesn’t say a word and writes the
name he has in mind on the child’s identification form.

Usan.

A huge smile plasters on Seokjin’s plump lips, grateful that Jungkook considered his wish while
you teased, “We all know Kookie just doesn’t have any name he wants in mind.”

But he’s suddenly staring at you, face unreadable. “I named her Usan, whatever that means for you
and hyung. But for me, she’s Usan because her nickname will be Sanny.”

Hearing that word has you instantly emotional. You never thought Jungkook still thinks of your
first pediatric patient until now.

Embracing you and Sanny, he mutters, “Sunny would be so happy to have her new sister named
after her.”

“Sunny will always be our first daughter, Kookie.”

“And Sanny will be our last,” he whispers, a lone tear falling down your cheek at the longing you
have for your little Sunny.

The days pass by and as promised, you get yourself ligated after having five wonderful kids.

Chase, 10. Beom, 8. Jigs, 7. Hope, 2. And Sanny, 1. Orange, Lime and Pomelo, 11.
DECEMBER

After your annual Christmas family shopping and grocery, you’re on your way to the parking lot
and it’s cute how Chase is on his skateboard, Beom on his trolley, Jigs on rollerblades while
holding Jimin’s and Jungkook’s hands for support. Hope is on a cute giraffe trolley which is being
pushed by Namjoon while Sanny is on the stroller Hoseok’s holding onto. Seokjin is carrying
Lime, Yoongi petting Orange and Taehyung with Pomelo.

It’s such a nice picture that you don’t mind not being in it. Staring at them, you breathe, “I love
you, guys!”

And suddenly they’re chuckling at how sentimental you’re being.

A few days later . . .

Never had the house been so . . . chaotic, especially when the fastest land animal is Sanny who’s
been asked what’s in her mouth.

Suddenly, it’s like taking care of the two girls are more challenging than handling the three
barbaric boys. Unlike before where they toss their male kids like monkeys in the jungle, making
you panic . . . this time, the girls seem untouchable.

Or maybe that’s because the guys are just extra careful around their princesses?

Three years later . . .

It’s also notably fun how Hope and Sanny calls Yoongi ‘coach’ and Namjoon ‘captain’ too;
apparently, their brothers calling them those is contagious.

Of course, the other five wouldn’t let it go without the kids calling them with something else too.
And you only discover that when it’s yours and Seokjin’s turn to lull the girls into sleep one night.

Cradling Hope in your arms while Sanny is snuggling Seokjin, you ask, “What do you like most
about spending days with your dads?”

“I love it when coach lets us draw him while he sleeps!” Sanny raises cutely, Hope agreeing while
you and Seokjin raise your brows.

“Coach Yoongi sleeps while babysitting you??” Seokjin queries with suspicion and when the girls
nod, you both snort at how irresponsible yet genius he is—sleeping while keeping the kids
preoccupied with drawing him in silence.

Hope chuckles, redirecting the topic, “I like it when Daddynim asked me for the hundred dollar
that the tooth fairy left me. He says the tooth fairy was just a little drunk, meaning to give me ten
dollars rather than a hundred.”

Seokjin can’t help but cackle at stupid Hoseok still getting drunk like that.

“What else do you love about your dads?” you prolong the chat because they’re so adorable.

“I love how captain tells us bedtime stories even after his tiring work,” Hope shares, “And then he
goes to act like Captain Hook but somehow he blows us pixie dusts and we fly.”

Seokjin coughs, “You fly??”

“Aha!” Sanny beams. “Superdad sneaks in in the middle of the bedtime story and he’ll toss us in
the air like we’re flying!”

Your eyes widen. “Superdad Jungkook tosses you in the air??”

“Yeah, mommy. It’s fun! Superdad should toss you too!” Sanny answers and Seokjin smirks at
that.

“Oh, Superdad doesn’t only toss your mom. He dominates her sometimes—” He chokes when you
hit him in the gut, shutting him up.

Shifting your gaze at your daughters, you interview, “What about your papas?”

“I love how Papa Mochi always says ‘I love you’ to us,” Hope admits genuinely.

Sanny carries on with a pout, “I always feel sad when I wake up and then Papa Mochi’s gone to
work without telling me he loves me.”

“I also love it when Papa Bear goes to hug us before sleeping,” Hope yawns, a little sleepy when
she talks about Taehyung.

“Me too, baby. Me too,” you murmur, commiserating.

“How about Baba?” Seokjin words out with a soft smile. “What do you like about me?”

“Baba?” you teased, “Bababank.” He’s always been the one to buy this and that at home—the
worldwidewallet.

Sanny follows your lead, sharing what she observes, “Bababaker.”

It’s acceptable since he’s been managing the cafe and sometimes bakes for everyone. Seokjin then
looks at Hope.

The little girl on your chest grinned. “Bababald?” she throws a random word and you laugh,
Seokjin glaring at her.

“You’re grounded, young lady. Baba isn’t bald,” he huffs jokingly.

Making it up for him, you kiss him in the cheek and whisper, “Babababy.”

Sanny hugging Seokjin as well. “Bababuddy?” she tells.

And again, Seokjin turns to Hope who’s now smiling cheekily. “Bababestdadever!” she squeaks,
wrapping her small arms around her dad. And there you four are, wrapped in a big group hug.

You and Hope fall asleep quicker than the lightning whereas Sanny is still mumbling Seokjin ted
talks about rainbows and mushrooms that his eyes are already heavily dropping.

“Sweetheart, aren’t you sleepy?” he finally asks.

“Sanny not sleepy.” Sanny glances at him. “Baba tired of me already?”

Seokjin pulls his lips in a soft lopsided smile, tightening his hug on her. “Never tired of you, baby.
I love you more than life itself, but I love it when you go to bed too because Baba’s a little tired
from work. If you love me too, you’ll sleep and then I’ll buy you a new toy when you wake up
nicely tomorrow—without waking up mommy.”
Sold to his offer, Sany immediately closes her eyes, chanting the toy she wants to have.

Truly, your youngest child is such a sweetheart; a funny, clumsy, weird and shy softie. Whenever
the dads would talk about your kids, they’d recall that one time where everyone’s praying—eyes
solemnly closed—before dinner but it takes too long of a time that Sanny sneaks a spoonful of rice
with one eye closed as if praying; not knowing that Jungkook has set up a little camera at her
gluttonous ways.

On the contrary, Hope is a brat—the brattiest one out there; their Ice Queen.

“Wish I was brave as Hope,” Taehyung shares during one cuddle session you have when the kids
are with Namjoon’s parents, “She didn’t eat even a bit of dinner and after her mom cleans the table,
that’s when she asks for snacks!”

The six others laugh, imagining your pissed off face which forces to smile because your daughters
are basically a replica of yourself.

“Is it just me?” Jimin trails off, asking, “Or whenever Hope says ‘I want mommy’ it feels like the
kid version of ‘I’d like to speak to your supervisor.’?! Dude, I get jittery whenever she does that
with her stoic expression like Yoongi-hyung.”

Gasping, they all relate to him, sharing moments where Hope intimidates the heck out of them at
her young age. Other than that, you talk about what they love doing with their princesses.

Like how Jimin lets the girls put makeup on him or how Jungkook works out with the girls playing
on the treadmill. It’s also cute when Yoongi threatens that they can’t have boyfriends and the two
girl would argue wanting to marry Mickey Mouse and he’ll fake cry.

Spoiling the girls is the what Bangtan live for; Taehyung enduring his knee pain when he draws
with the girls on the small table where his legs are too long to fit, Seokjin letting them wear Elsa
and Ana costumes even when you’re strolling along the beach—insisting that whatever his
princesses want, he’ll support.

There are also precious moments you wanna keep like that legendary day where Namjoon goes to
the stage and joins the ballet dance recital because Hope had a sudden stage fright and her captain
is the only one who calms her down. Oh, Namjoon dancing ballet had been one of the top videos in
your lives.

Still, you try to remind them from time to time not to spoil the kids too much but it seems like no
matter how much you intervene, Bangtan’s love for them overflows and it shows when you find
out that even after having low grades at school Taehyung still buys them a huge toy which they
assembled in the backyard secretly.

There’s also a time where you decree them as grounded but Jimin would let them sneak out and
even join them in strolling around the neighborhood in bikes. And even when they’re ordered to
study, Hoseok will creep in their room and dance randomly, alluring them to dance with him to
give them a break and help them relax because he knows how stressful studying is.

Even after that, whenever the boys would get in trouble again, the counseling would revolve
around men-to-men.

“Why did you get into a fight again?” Hoseok questions Chase.

Hesitant, Chase remains silent but when Jimin looks at him with stern eyes, he yields, “Some
schoolmate told me that my mom is collecting men.”
Jaws clenching upon hearing that, Bangtan exchanges glances as if thinking how to handle the
situation. They’re triggered too. They know how frustrated it must be for the boys to hear things
like that. Jungkook might’ve thrown a few kicks if he heard that real time. But they’re dads now.
They have to be a good influence.

“Your mom doesn’t want you getting fights because of that,” Taehyung starts.

“Plus, I bet those schoolmate of yours had ugly mothers that’s why their moms are stuck with
useless dads,” Yoongi thoughtlessly answers, earning a couple of laugh from everyone.

Seokjin enlightens, “Whenever you hear them say shit things like that just remember that your
mom is too beautiful for one man.”

“And as her sons, you need to protect her when we’re gone,” Jungkook initiates, patting the three
kids.

“The problem will never be resolved if you brawl with them because the problem lies within their
tiny brains,” Namjoon calmly explains.

“Let them talk garbage,” Yoongi says, “They must be so sad at home to have the time to talk about
other people’s mom.”

“So don’t be like them,” Jimin reminds, “Your mom would prefer it if you just pretend that you
didn’t hear them and ignore it. Your task is to protect your mom and your little sisters from the
hurtful things they might hear someday. And in order to do that, you need to learn what endurance
and patience is.”

Hoseok ruffles their hair, suggesting, “You can just act it out, brush them off like invisible dust and
then you can vent out your anger with us afterwards. Okay, buddy?”

Little do they know but you’re standing behind the door, unintentionally hearing the whole
conversation. Never did you imagine how amazing dads they’d become and you’re glad you took
this path with them.

***

The house has been a sanctuary. With the boys living together with you and the kids, they wanted it
to be the best place and they didn’t fail at that. It’s the best place to the point that the kids’ friends
start wanting to hang out at your place which you’ve always found endearing—well, after a few
debates that is.

At first, the idea of inviting other people in the household of a secret poly is uncomfortable. The
house has five big rooms—the boys’ room, the girls’ room, your room which is lowkey the biggest
room because it’s the master’s bedroom, Bangtan’s shared room and an office type room where
they mostly stay. Oh, and yes, there’s a secret basement too—the little hub that holds all the OT7
memorabilia like a portrait from the Chooseday, treasured videos from Bangtan band college days,
family photos, Sunny’s drawing of Jungkook and you and all other sort of stuff you owned
together.

Half of them didn’t like the thought of having other kids wander around the house but when
Namjoon raises his opinions about it, tables have turned.

“I think it’s nice to have their friends visit,” he says as-a-matter-of-a-factly, “They’ll think that
something’s wrong with our family because we seem too many but as they leave by the end of the
day, they’ll start to wonder what’s wrong in their normal family. How can they not be as happy as
us?”

“Remember, as far as anyone knows . . . we’re a nice normal family,” Chase teasingly reminds his
friends as he leads them to the front gate.

“Nice?!” one of his friends squawks, “Are you kidding me?! Your family is like the best! I wish I
had that kind of family too. Your dads are cool by the way!”

And just like what the leader notions, Chase’s, Beom’s and Jig’s friends love your place. Not only
your place, they love Seokjin’s cooking, Yoongi’s music collection, Hoseok’s cool toys,
Namjoon’s book collections, Jimin’s manga collection, Taehyung’s gadgets and Jungkook’s sports
games stuff. They’d probably trade of their own dads just to have Bangtan as their dads.

More years pass by, your kids are growing into fine teenage men but Bangtan is growing like
savage dads that drive your boys to the wall.

Like that ‘Chores before Hoes’ policy of Seokjin, the present-a-PowerPoint-to-convince-me

propaganda of Yoongi, the embarrassing Goodbye-Kiss-Because-You’re-Still-My-Baby-Boy of
Taehyung, the hunting games and cleaning games in exchange for the wifi password by Jungkook,
the Always-Text-Me-When-You-Go-Out of Jimin and Hoseok’s awkwardly strict ‘Don’t do Drugs
or I’ll Ask Jungkook to Beat the Heck Out of You’.

END

a/n: I’d like to add the drabble where Hope grows up and wants to have a boyfriend but the ten
men promises that they’ll break her boyfriend’s knees and she groans, “I’ll break all of your
knees!” but I don’t have the time to write about it anymore but heck, introducing your boyfriend to
ten men of the house is such a tense and funny moment.

It’s been a year and a half & I can’t believe you’re still here with me.

August has been such a challenging month. Apart from all the ruckus this pandemic is giving, I
already posted a few times in my tumblr asking for donations and writing this chapter for a
cause. To those that are interested to help my Y/N friend, please don’t hesitate to send ko-fis;
any amount will be very appreciated.

And well I do understand that not everyone can give, I do like to ask for one last favor. Please, tell
me about Thesis It-Prove It. How was it? Feel free to reblog, comment, kudos and such. I’ve
plotted this with my whole heart and I hope it’s a fic you would always think of as
an ‘unforgettable one’. Please validate my feelings. I need it the most right now.

And for all those who already validated me in the past, thannk you! i appreciate every comment
you gave, the playlists you made, the reviews you wrote, the recs, the silent gasps, the silent
cusses, the spamming of my inbox, the rants, the criticisms, the memes, everything! I hope I can
finish the semi video trailer I made a year ago for Thesis It tho. hahaha.

Also feel free to send ASKS, or even ask the characters or the kids. :)) hahaha. Lemme tell you a
secret, I know who their real fathers are. Wanna guess?

After 415k words, thank you and til next time . . . I hope this fic really did PROVE IT. that OT7
works and that life is fair and equal. It won’t always be filled with rainbows but we should always
learn to dance in the rain.
✁-----------------------------------

[INTERLOGUE]

THE FAMILY PLANNING

Jungkook was surprised when you told him you wanted kids. Immediately, he informed the rest
about it and that’s why you’re all perched in the living room, laying your rules.

Clearing your throat, you bravely voiced out, “Our children will take my surname.”

Their eyes bulged out at your decree but they held back from arguing because you continued,
“Chances are . . . all or nothing. Either we tell them they have seven dads or no dad at all.”

Taehyung pouted, confused, “How can they have no dad when they’re—?”

“Okay. I get it,” you interrupted, “If mom asks, I’ll just say I don’t know who the father is. That it
was a one night stand and I don’t need a husband. Or . . .”

“What’s the ‘or’?” Namjoon hummed.

Raising your brows at them, you probed, “Can you explain how I have seven husbands? Cause I’m
pretty sure that would cause more ruckus than the previous idea.” When no one can argue, you
continue, “I’d rather have my mom thinking I’m a careless woman than have her thinking that you
guys were taking advantage of one woman. Please.”

“So you’re saying . . .” Hoseok concluded, scratching the back of his neck, “We’ll have a kid. But
we can’t tell them we’re their dads?”

“Technically, we really can’t tell who their dad is,” you utter nonchalantly.

“What?!” a chorus roars and you shrug.

“Because I’m not picking one of you to be the obvious dad. We’re doing it together.”

“Wow,” Yoongi breathed in amusement, “I can’t say that didn’t turn me on.”

A flying pillow hits his head. “Shut up. This is serious,” you bark.

“She’s saying she wants a blind test,” Namjoon emphasizes.

“Yes. And just like the restriction we have in our relationship where I can’t officialize anyone.
You, too, can’t officialize our child.” Slowly but surely, you break it to them, “But I swear you’ll
all be legal guardians. We can arrange it discreetly. But hey, if we don’t come to an agreement. It’s
okay. I don’t mind having no kids. We already have our pets anyway.”

You’re obviously blabbing nonsense, your anxiety kicking in and Yoongi butts in, “No. We want
you to be a mom.”

“It sucks to always have that restriction but we’ve promised to go through this together,” Jungkook
says.

Taehyung assures, “I don’t care if others won’t know that I’m a dad. What matters is we have a
child and we’ll shower it with love.”

Pressing a kiss on your forehead, Jimin coos, “We don’t have to tell the world that we’re a family.
 They’ll just feel it on their own . . . because we are.”

Hoseok takes your hand, squeezing it fondly. “Life was meant to be enjoyed with privacy anyway.
And for the record, I think our secret relationship is happier than any public relationship I’ve
seen.”

***

One horrifying day . . .

Bangtan heads down the basement to chill and reminisce when they find teenage Hope and Sanny
inside; hearts bursting in surprise and shock.

And it’s the girls smiling. “Relax, fathers. We’ve always known.”

That has all seven of them more speechless.

“K-known what?” Jungkook stutters.

Sanny chuckles. “We know why mom loves all of you. Because even if we know which of you
was our real dad, we can’t even pick. That’s how much we all love you too!”

“And damn hell, I’ll fight whoever disrespects any of you,” Hope bravely states, immediately
triggering Bangtan to hug them due to utmost happiness.

Chapter End Notes

here’s a fun fact. Out of seven men, there are only THREE real dads out there. Four of
the kids are Kim.

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