Tumgik
#Bts fic
euphorajeon · 2 days
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trippin' over, gettin' lost on you | jjk (m)
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— pairing: jk x f. reader
— genre: fluff, smut | college au, slight coffee shop au (?)
— word count: 12.4k
— warnings: pov change after the first part (its kinda obvious.. i hope), sleeveless jk, jealous jk, like really jealous, side character yoongi, cameo jimin and hoseok, they work tgt in a coffee shop, boxer!jk is back to his nature (he's boxing again, at last), cocky jk (but he's hot so its ok), usual banter between jk and oc, also banter between oc and jimin, mentions of cuts and bruises from boxing, references to the movie Real Steel, uhh what else i dont rmb anything else this thing is GIANT for me, smut in the form of: kissing, marking (hickeys), making out, an attempt at dirty talk, dry humping, cumming in pants, hint at unprotected penetrative sex at the end (don't do this!). [pls lmk if i missed smth]
— summary: a visit to the coffee shop you work at rewards jeongguk not only with a cup of coffee and a plate of brownie, but also with something else simmering deep in his veins. a challenge is issued, and all hell breaks loose.
— author's note: okay first of all full disclosure i started this in sept 2022 and just finished it today ^_^ i tried to edit it as best as i could, so if you see any mistakes, pls kindly... ignore... thank you... ^_^ that aside, i also feel the need to disclose that this is only my second time attempting to write smut so pls.. be kind.. hehe. okay! i hope you enjoy this absolute giant baby of mine!!
masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist
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There’s an advantage to knowing someone for years. Jeon Jeongguk can attest to this fact from first-hand experiences he’d had with you throughout the many years you both have known each other. He’s seen you cry after you almost drowned when you were ten and you’ve seen him throw up his breakfast after drinking skimmed milk when he was twelve, where both life-threatening experiences had been deemed not serious by young-you and young-Jeongguk who used both experiences as means to roast each other. (Though growing up, your hands automatically grabbed the whole milk carton when grocery shopping with him and he’s never let you go within a five-meter radius of a swimming pool without his supervision.)
Years of friendship with you has also given him the advantage of being familiar with your likes and dislikes, from trivial ones like how you don’t drink coffee because it upsets your stomach to more serious ones like the type of boys you would date in your teen years. He’s never had a problem with the former, instead using it as another mean to annoy you (“You can’t drink coffee? What are you? A child?”), but the latter had always bugged him for reasons unknown prior to his big epiphany a little over a year ago. (Spoiler alert: it was the first time he came home with piercings on his eyebrow and lower lip, when he tempted you into kissing him stupid.)
Now he’s confident that the type of a boy you’d date would be someone who is handsome, tall, has a great smile and tattooed bulging biceps on the side. Add a lip piercing (and a fake tongue one!) as well and he’s sure you’re never going to look at other boys ever again. If you do, well, he’d just make the piercing on his tongue a permanent one, even though that means he wouldn’t be able to kiss you for weeks after. But as said earlier, he’s confident that you only have eyes for him alone.
With that same confidence, Jeongguk struts through the glass door of the coffee shop you’re working at for the summer, going up to the counter with a grin painted on his features. Said grin goes unnoticed by you, though, as you’re busy taking the order of the person in front of him. His lips stay tilted upwards as he watches you work, writing the customer’s name on the cup with your big, round, cute handwriting. Only when you’re done taking the order and the customer’s cup has been given to your coworker do you notice his presence, eyes lighting up at the sight of him.
“Hi, what can I get you today?” you greet him in your customer-service voice and smile like you do any other customer that has come before him. Jeongguk gives you an amused smile, making you chuckle as you key in his order even before he says it himself. He eyes the small screen in front of him that displays his usual choice of beverage, making a sound to stop you from ringing him up.
“Actually,” he says when you hum in question, “could you add milk to that? Make it a latte?”
“You want a latte?” you emphasize the last word, making sure you didn’t hear him wrong. “Like, with milk and foam on top?”
“Uh-huh,” Jeongguk confirms, leaning his elbows on the counter to stare at you as you change his order from an americano to a latte. “Can I also order you on the side? Look too good not to be devoured,” he adds, a sleazy smirk on his lips.
You scrunch up your face at his innuendo, his words hard to believe when you’re wearing a murky brown apron and a matching cap on your head. “I’m adding a brownie,” you deadpan. “That would be seven dollars.”
“You don’t want anything?” Jeongguk asks as he straightens up, hand reaching for his wallet to take out his credit card. “No coffee though, babe.”
“Nope, I’m good,” you answer as you accept the card Jeongguk hands you, swiping it through the card reader. “Yoongi said I can try the new menu in large for free! I’m saving calories for that so no sugar allowed for now.”
His forehead creases upon hearing the new name. “Yoongi? Who’s Yoongi?”
“Him,” you tilt your head towards a mint-haired guy who’s busy making all the drinks, hands skillfully moving from one cup to another. It’s a wonder how he doesn’t spill even a drop of liquid. “I’ll introduce you later but now you have to move, there’s a line. Shoo.”
Jeongguk gives you a playful pout as a protest but complies with your request to move, sliding down to the pick up counter as you greet the next customer in line. There are two people lined up after him, barely a line like you made it sound like, but he figures because it’s an hour before closing that you consider any amount above one person a line. He also notices that you and the mint guy (Yoongi, was it?) are the only ones manning the counter, so it’s not like you have any spare time to deal with him given the amount of work that has to be done.
“An iced latte and brownie for Jeongguk!” Mint guy shouts as he slides the drink and dessert on the counter, lingering for a second when he sees Jeongguk’s hands reaching for his order. Mint guy’s gaze trails up his arms to his face, eyes meeting Jeongguk’s confused ones. Recognition bleeds into his cat-like eyes as his mouth forms into an O shape.
“Kiddo’s boyfriend?”
The low baritone of his voice is unexpected, though that’s not the only thing throwing Jeongguk for a loop. ‘Kiddo’? He has a nickname for you??
Mint guy—Yoongi!—doesn’t take his lack of response personally, instead opting to turn around and talk to you who have just finished taking orders from the customers. Jeongguk can’t hear what words you and Yoongi are throwing around, but from the way you glance at him, it looks like the mint-haired guy is just trying to confirm the answer to his two-worded question directed at Jeongguk earlier.
Your response to Yoongi’s inquiry makes the guy give you double pats on your cap-covered head, triggering a laugh to come out of both of you. While Yoongi’s laugh looks like he’s teasing you good-naturedly, yours looks like a shy one if the pink dusting your cheeks are any indication. It prompts a scowl to appear on Jeongguk’s handsome visage, furrowed brows and clenched jaw. It is not in your nature to get shy.
As much as he wants to stay rooted to the pick-up counter to keep you and Yoongi in his close watch, he has to move his ass somewhere less crowded to avoid getting eye-fucked by the girl next to him who has been staring at his tattoos for the past five minutes. Prior to dating you, anyone who displays interest in his tattoos would make pride swell in his chest, an ego-booster guaranteed to make his day a thousand times better. He used to subtly flex whenever he caught someone looking at his sleeve tattoos, an equally subtle wink on the side if that someone is a girl he found attractive. But after dating you, he realizes that the only attention he wants (and matters) is yours. Now anyone staring at his tattoos with the intention of flirting or getting in his pants just makes him shiver in disgust.
Though, in this particular instance, Jeongguk admits it’s his own fault by showing up to the coffee shop in a sleeveless shirt. It wasn’t intentional, he just grabbed anything within reach when he packed for the gym earlier in the day, but the way he left his hoodie in the car is definitely intentional. He thought he would give you a distraction surprise by baring his sleeve when you’re working, but you seemed unaffected even when he leaned on the counter to flex his muscles. Which is weird, considering you never missed any chance to ogle his inked bicep whenever he’s boxing.
As Jeongguk plops a small piece of brownie into his mouth, he just realizes that your roles are reversed now, with you doing your thing and him doing the staring. His eyes never leave your figure as you ring up three more customers since he sat down, transferring plastic cups onto Yoongi’s never-ending queue of orders. He watches as you take the last two cups by yourself, re-reading the order before moving to grab the ingredients needed for the drink. Your hands don’t work as fast as Yoongi’s, the muscle memory not yet settling in, but Jeongguk can tell that your help is appreciated by the way the mint guy smiles at you while patting your shoulder.
When the orders are all done, you go up to the glass door to flip the sign so it shows the Sorry, we’re closed! side. A glance at the clock tells him that it is thirty minutes until closing time, meaning thirty minutes until you can get out from behind the cashier and into his waiting arms. He hasn’t seen you all day today and all he wants to do is kiss you breathless the second you get rid of that horrendous apron and cap. Jeongguk starts counting down from the thirty-minute mark, hoping time would tick by faster.
Behind the counter, Yoongi is still busy making one more drink while refusing your offer to help. It’s weird seeing your kindness being offered to someone that isn’t him, but Jeongguk supposes this time it’s strictly work-related as he knows Yoongi has been making all the drinks (except the last two that you did) ever since he sat down with his order. Though, it seems like the drink in his hand is not an order at all, because he gives the plastic cup to you instead of putting it on the counter for a customer to take. There’s an almost childish grin on your face as you sip on the drink, eyes lighting up as you shoot Yoongi a thumbs up. After you exchange some more words with Yoongi, Jeongguk watches as you skip happily to his table with your drink in hand.
You place said drink next to his cup of latte on the table before your hand reaches for his drink to steal a sip. “I just have to clean up and wait for everyone to leave, then we’re good to go.” You steal two more sips of the latte just because you can.
“Okay, babe, but I still want my latte, you can put it down now,” Jeongguk chuckles, watching you do as he says with a guilty smile on your face. But then your hand takes the little spoon that came with the brownie to cut a sizable chunk from his half-eaten treat, quickly plopping it into your mouth. “Finish your brownie so I can take the plate away to wash it.”
“Are you just here to steal all of my food?” Jeongguk jokes, no menace behind his words as he reaches up to thumb away a stray piece of brownie from the corner of your lips. “And you said you didn’t want anything when I offered earlier.”
“I didn’t,” you confirm, “stealing from you is just too hard to resist.”
Jeongguk would’ve continued the banter if not for Yoongi calling your nickname from behind the counter, signalling for you to get back to your job.
“Boss calls,” you say, sneakily stuffing some more brownie into your mouth. “Should get back. Bye!”
“He’s your boss?” Jeongguk asks incredulously, glancing at the mint-haired guy who’s still busy moving around behind the counter. “That young guy is your boss??”
“Yeah, I’ll explain later,” you wave your hand dismissively, turning to leave. “Don’t steal my drink!”
In true Jeongguk fashion, of course he steals a sip from your drink. He does it just to be petty that you won’t explain anything about Yoongi, but he’s also curious what the new menu tastes like. He doesn’t remember seeing any banner for a new menu when he entered the shop earlier, so he’s guessing it hasn’t gone on sale yet.
He scrunches up his face the moment the drink touches his taste buds, tasting the bitterness of coffee among the layers of other flavors. It’s not as strong as the americano he usually has, but he can still feel it linger even after he swallowed the drink. Definitely not the type of drink you’d order on your own, though, so why were you so excited to try this new menu?
Looking around the shop, Jeongguk’s gaze falls on Yoongi. You did say he was your boss, didn’t you? Could it be that this free drink is just a plot to use you as a guinea pig for his experimental weird recipes, knowing that you can’t refuse your boss? Was that why he refused your help earlier? So he could make the drink taste as bizarre as it is right now?
His eyes continue following your and Yoongi’s figures behind the counter, squinting them in distaste whenever he sees you laughing at something the mint-haired guy said. Your smile, your lowered gaze, your shy demeanor, all remind him of a feeling he thought he had buried a long time ago—the same feeling he got whenever you got a boyfriend in your adolescent years. Suddenly, Jeongguk feels fifteen all over again—a clueless doe-eyed boy who donned t-shirts in every color of the rainbow every day of the week and strutted like he owned the school just so you can see that he was cool, only for you to deny him of a Sunday together.
Those years have become a core memory for him that it inspired him to get one of his tattoos: Rather be dead than cool, because he realized the way to your attention was not by being cool, it was by just being himself. (Yes, the ‘him’ who showed up unannounced at your doorstep after two years and ended the day with you on his lap stealing all the breath straight from his lungs.)
Anyways, all of that doesn’t matter because currently, your eyes are not on him but on your mint-haired boss who’s busy grinning while washing some equipment. Why are you both smiling so much around each other? Do you have some kind of inside joke that’s so funny you can’t stop laughing? What is so pleasing about Yoongi’s presence that you keep beaming at him?
Jeongguk chews the straw of your drink in anger, not realizing that he has inhaled almost half of the cup’s content despite claiming that he hates the taste. Sipping on your drink has become an afterthought as he was busy analyzing how wide your smiles are while working with Yoongi and how friendly the shoulder and head pats you give each other are. It’s sickening.
Eventually, everyone else in the coffee shop left and you’re in front of him once again to get rid of the brownie plate from his table, whining when you see the half-empty cup in Jeongguk’s hand even as you’re chewing the rest of his brownie in your mouth. Fair trade, he says as you walk away with the plate and spoon in hand.
Not even five minutes has passed since you left his table, yet Jeongguk feels tired of being patient, taking your and his coffee cups in each hand before coming up to the counter. It seems like Yoongi senses his presence, because he looks up from the calculator app on the tablet in front of him to give Jeongguk a curious glance. Their eyes meet for a split second before Jeongguk moves his gaze past Yoongi’s shoulder to you, who’s still busy wiping down the counter. A knowing smile curves on Yoongi’s lips.
“Hey, Kiddo,” Yoongi turns towards you, the nickname still irritating to Jeongguk’s ears. “I’ll finish closing up, you can go. Great work today.”
“No it’s okay, I can help you mop the floor after I’m finished with the counter.” You don’t even look up as you wave him off, oblivious to Jeongguk’s presence and his increasing impatience in front of your boss. He clears his throat comically loud, making you turn around to see a frown etched on your boyfriend’s face and Yoongi tilting his head towards him with a small, almost teasing smile on his face.
“Oh.” You pull your lips into a thin line. “Okay then. Sorry about him, Yoongi.”
“No worries, Kiddo.”
Yoongi’s nonchalant response is laced with a chuckle, which for some reason, upsets Jeongguk even more than the nickname he keeps calling you by. Is Yoongi not scared of him? Of his tattoos, of his muscles? Is he not intimidating? Can’t he feel the piercing stare Jeongguk keeps giving him ever since he walked into the coffee shop?
“You.” Your stern voice tears his hot gaze away from the mint-haired guy, whose focus is back on the calculator on his tablet to count the sales they made today. “I’ll clock out first then we can go. Please don’t do anything weird in the five minutes that I don’t have my eyes on you.”
Jeongguk follows your figure with his eyes until you disappear into the backroom, leaving him alone with Yoongi. Yoongi, the guy with the mint hair, whose surname he doesn’t even know, who is your boss that strangely have an endearing nickname for you. Things that stream steady questions into his head, about your initial meeting with Yoongi to the extent of your relationship with him. It’s the nickname he can’t seem to shake off of his mind, the way it rolls easily off Yoongi’s tongue, as if he’s been calling you that for years. Has he known you for years like Jeongguk has? Been through near-death experiences with you like Jeongguk has? Has he deserved the right to call you by a nickname like Jeongguk has?
“You can stop shooting daggers at my head, you know,” Yoongi’s low drawl almost makes Jeongguk think that he’s talking to himself, but the sentence is clearly directed at him. The older guy finally looks up from his tablet to look at Jeongguk in the eyes for longer than a second, no coffee orders to complete to interrupt their interaction this time. “Kiddo’s boyfriend, Jeongguk, right?”
As Jeongguk gives a nod to confirm Yoongi’s question, a hand is extended towards him to complete the introduction. “I’m Yoongi, Kiddo’s coworker-slash-boss.”
Jeongguk grips Yoongi’s hand with more strength than necessary, unintentionally flexing his muscles too. He thought that would be enough to tell Yoongi that Jeongguk is your boyfriend and he has no business being so friendly with you, but Yoongi only glances at his tattooed arm before letting go of his hand with a comment about how strong his grip is.
“Thanks, I do boxing,” Jeongguk mutters curtly, upset at the degree of nonchalance Yoongi is showing. He starts glancing at the door to the backroom where you currently are, wishing you would emerge right this second so he can go and doesn’t need to face Yoongi’s mint hair ever again.
“Yeah, Kiddo might have mentioned that a few times, just like she won’t shut up about your sleeve tattoos,” Yoongi says, going back to his tablet. “I used to box too, by the way.”
If you asked Jeongguk what Yoongi used to do, he wouldn’t be able to answer at all as he chooses to focus on the part where Yoongi said you won’t shut up about his sleeve tattoos and tune out the rest of his sentence. “My tattoos? What about them?”
“She said you have tons. Shoulder to fingertips. That’s how I recognized you when giving your order,” Yoongi answers lightly, which piqued Jeongguk’s interest even further. Wouldn’t it be fun to use this coworker-slash-boss of yours to get information about what you’ve been saying about him at work? What else does Yoongi know about him other than he does boxing and has a sleeve tattoo?
“Really? Does she gush about how hot they are to you, too?”
It’s not a question meant to be answered, its sole purpose to show off that you indeed gush to him about how hot his tattoos are. Though, if one thinks about it, why would Jeongguk need to boast to Yoongi about the compliments you give him about the strokes of ink on his arm? What business does Yoongi have knowing about it?
Yoongi seems to be unaware of Jeongguk’s inner dilemma as his face breaks out into a grin. “I think she’d be mad at me if I told you half the things she gushes to me about you.”
So you do gush about how hot his tattoos are to Yoongi. Interesting.
The fact that Yoongi insinuates there’s more to that is both endearing and terrifying to Jeongguk, because while he’s giddy that you talk about him with other people with so much enthusiasm, too much of it could end up in you sharing something about him that you should not have. Not to mention you’re sharing it with your boss, someone you should keep at an arm’s length when it comes to sharing about your significant others. One wrong move and he could use it against you.
Jeongguk is just about to ask Yoongi to elaborate further on his statement when you step out of the backroom, now out of the murky brown cap and apron and in a white t-shirt that looks like it belongs to Jeongguk. All thoughts of Yoongi knowing all sort of things about him evaporates right away, his mind focusing on how cute you look instead. If only Jeongguk doesn’t know basic human decency, he’d pull you by the waist to taste the mouth he’s been deprived of for the whole day, not giving an ounce of care about your boss watching the whole thing.
No, he’s a good boyfriend so he opts to pull you by the shoulders instead, letting your arms go around his waist before squeezing you in his arms. The kiss he drops on your cheek is chaste yet lingering, like he wants to let you know just how much he missed you. You tighten your arms around him in return, wordlessly saying the same thing back.
“Ready to go?” Jeongguk mumbles into your hair, not yet letting go of the hug.
“Ye—oh, wait!” You pull your face away from its initial position on Jeongguk’s chest. “You haven’t met Yoongi yet.”
“We did, Kiddo,” Yoongi waves you off. “You’re free to go. Your boyfriend here has been waiting long enough.”
“No,” you say, pulling away from Jeongguk’s hold. “I mean I haven’t introduced you two properly.” You gesture to the both of them back and forth as you say their names. “Yoongi, meet my boyfriend, Jeon Jeongguk. Jeongguk, meet my boss, Min Yoongi. His family owns this coffee shop.”
“That’s what you mean by proper?” Jeongguk says to you as he takes Yoongi’s hand for the second time that day, regular grip this time because you’re watching his every move like a hawk. “I didn’t know you own the shop. Nice place,” he nods to the older guy, releasing his hand.
“Thanks. It’s my dad’s, though. I just help from time to time,” Yoongi shrugs.
“You ‘just help from time to time’ but willing to dye your hair mint in honor of the new menu.” You nudge his elbow playfully. “Speaking of the new menu, did you finish the whole cup, Jeongguk? I’ve only had a few sips.” You frown as you bring the cup to your eye level, examining just how much of it is left. It’s an exaggeration, obviously, as the cup in your hand is still half-filled. But Jeongguk plays along, saying the reason why he inhaled your drink is because he’s tired from having just gone back from boxing.
“You have your own latte,” you point out, finally taking a much-deserved sip from your free drink. It still tastes okay, so you stop grilling Jeongguk about stealing your drink (even though you kinda stole his too, in the middle of your shift nonetheless.) “Oh, and did you know Yoongi also—”
Yoongi clears his throat loudly before you can finish your sentence. You look up from your drink, alarmed, afraid you might have said something wrong. Your eyes meet Yoongi’s and he gives you a tiny shake of his head, one Jeongguk doesn’t notice because he’s busy taking sips from his own cup of latte. (And because he’s more focused on you than Yoongi.)
“He knows, I told him I used to box too,” Yoongi says.
“You did? I didn’t catch it,” Jeongguk averts his eyes from you, turning to look at Yoongi. “Wanna have a match? I could use an opponent for my session tomorrow.”
“I said I used to, Kid,” Yoongi re-emphasizes on the two words. “I have a shoulder injury. It’s healing, but I still shouldn’t do too much to it.”
“Oh come on, I’ll go easy on you.”
“Jeongguk!” A slap lands on his bicep courtesy of you.
“What? He said it’s healing!”
It’s only now that Jeongguk witnesses the exchange between you and Yoongi using only your eyes, yours looking frantic while Yoongi’s looking as cool as a cucumber. Maybe he should dye his hair a shade of green resembling a cucumber rather than a mint.
After watching you and Yoongi have a silent conversation for a minute, Jeongguk lets out a sigh as he takes the final sip from his latte. “It’s okay, babe, I was just kidding. It’s fine if Yoongi doesn’t want to have a match with me.” He throws the empty cup into a trashcan nearby. “It just means that he backs down easily from a challenge.”
You physically face-palm at his sentence, missing the way Jeongguk throws a challenging smirk Yoongi’s way. The older doesn’t seem fazed at all, instead letting a small smirk take over his features as well. “That’s not a really nice thing to say to someone you’ve just met,” he drawls.
Jeongguk shrugs. “Just stating the truth.”
“Jeongguk, please stop,” you whine from behind your hands, still facepalming because you don’t want to become a witness in case this coffee shop becomes a crime scene.
“Alright, I’ll have a match with you,” Yoongi says finally, tone resolute. You peek out from the cocoon of your hands, glancing back and forth between your coworker-slash-boss and your boyfriend who are having a staring contest, both refusing to back down. “Tomorrow after my shift works? Kiddo here can take the same shift so she can watch us too.”
“Sure,” Jeongguk agrees without a pause. “It ends at three, right?”
“Yep.”
“Cool. See you then.”
Then Jeongguk puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from the counter to finally go take you home as it’s the reason he came here in the first place. You hastily give your coworker a wave goodbye over your shoulder, getting a wave back accompanied with a laugh. Jeongguk uses the opportunity to steal yet another sip from your drink.
“Stop it! You’re gonna finish it all!”
“What even is it? It tastes really weird.” Jeongguk scrunches up his face.
“It’s mint mochaccino, you ass.” You pull the cup away from him, who chases the straw with his mouth while grinning wide. “Stop or I won’t kiss you until tomorrow morning.”
“Always withdrawing kisses when I need them the most,” he pouts, retreating from your drink to let you finally finish the cup yourself. “Can I kiss you in the car or should I wait until we get home?”
(Does not matter what you answer is, because he grips the back of your neck in the car to make out with you for five minutes, and then finish what he started in the safety of his room, under the blankets.)
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“Are you sure you want to fight with Yoongi later?”
You and Jeongguk are back in his car, on the way to the coffee shop for you to start your shift and for Jeongguk to get his americano to kick off the day. His nod to your question is firm.
“Yeah. My coach said it’s good to train with an opponent sometimes.”
“You could’ve fought with your coach instead, then,” you point out.
“True, but—” Jeongguk tilts his head, sucking in a breath. “He’s the one who trained me, so he knows my fighting style and pattern. It’s good indeed, but it’s missing that element of fun.” He drums his fingers against the steering wheel. “Besides, I want to know what your Yoongi is made of.” He casts a glance at you to see your reaction.
“What ‘my’ Yoongi, what are you talking about …” You heave a sigh, massaging your temple. It’s not even 9 AM yet but you can already feel a headache coming. Sometimes you wonder why you’re willing to date this childhood friend of yours, knowing all of his flaws and bad habits like this. Though it’s given you the advantage of being able to read between the lines of his actions, often you wish he’d just say things outright without you having to dig it out of him.
“You know, the Yoongi you work with? The Yoongi who gives you head pats? The Yoongi who has a nickname for you?” Jeongguk’s tone gets more annoying near the end of his sentence, almost as if he’s trying to get a certain reaction out of you.
“The Yoongi who owns the cafe I work at, which is the sole source of income I have?” you reply instead, refusing to give in to Jeongguk’s silent provocation. “Also, the Yoongi who used to box. I think you should keep that in mind when you fight him later.”
“Yeah, yeah. Bet he wasn’t even that good.”
You manage to arrive at the cafe unscathed, only losing a tiny piece of sanity because your boyfriend couldn’t keep his mouth shut about Yoongi and his non-existent boxing skills (Jeongguk’s words, not yours.) It doesn’t help that the Yoongi in question is already standing behind the register, greeting you with a smile and throwing a lopsided smirk your boyfriend’s way. You don’t like the thick tension between them at all so you quickly slip into the backroom to let Jeongguk be a big boy for once and order his own americano for the day.
Stepping out of the backroom in your mandatory work apron and cap, you’re kind of relieved when you see the shop is still intact, not thrown upside down courtesy of your boyfriend and his inability to control his strength (and emotion) in the face of a threat (read: Yoongi.) Upon seeing you, Jeongguk pushes himself off the counter he’s leaning against before reaching for your waist despite your boss standing just a few feet away. The cup of americano on the counter tells you that you took too long in the breakroom, which if anyone asks, you’d justify with adjusting your work attire. In reality, you just don’t want to face your boyfriend and the sour look he has whenever he so much as glances at your boss.
“You can always cancel the fight with Yoongi, you know,” you murmur, biting your bottom lip in worry. “You could hurt him, he could hurt you … it’s not ideal.”
“Hmm.” Jeongguk purses his lips. “What’s not ideal is your boss having a nickname for you.” There he goes again, always having something to say about Yoongi. “Aside from it being highly unprofessional, it’s also inappropriate since you have a boyfriend and that is me. Jeon Jeongguk. I am your boyfriend.”
“Jeongguk, he knows,” you groan, fed up with the back-and-forth about this whole Yoongi thing. You don’t even know why your boyfriend is so threatened by the older guy when he’s a whole lifetime ahead of him. “It’s not even a nickname. You’re just seeing what you want to see.”
Jeongguk’s reply never makes it out of his mouth as he’s interrupted by Yoongi clearing his throat, making you both look at him tapping on his wrist to signal the time. It’s a reminder that you’re here to work, not to continue the argument that sparked in the car. Your boyfriend rolls his eyes at your boss, sharing a hard stare with him before deciding to do something one should not do in front of their boss: dip down to kiss you, using your surprised gasp as a way to slide his tongue inside your mouth. In the five seconds he manages to tangle his tongue with yours, you completely missed the sound of the glass doors opening and the low whistle that came after, along with Yoongi’s chuckle and greeting to the person who just came in.
Shoving Jeongguk away by your hand on his chest, you try to cover your burning face with your other hand as an attempt to save your dignity in front of Yoongi, though you doubt it’s working at all. Jeongguk licks his lips then winks at you, squeezing your waist in his grip before stepping back to grab his cup of americano, now full of condensation sliding off the plastic cup. He takes a sip to taste test before scrunching up his nose.
“Could’ve been better,” he sneers, making you glare. “Alright, I’ll let you get to work. See you later, babe.” Then, after a second, turns to Yoongi to add: “you too.”
When Jeongguk disappears into his car, you put your head in your hands and let out the loudest groan known to man. “I’m sorry, Yoongi.”
The mint-haired guy only gives you a gummy laugh, eyes turning into crescents as he shakes his head. “Your boyfriend is really something, Kiddo,” he muses. “A really … fun early morning entertainment, you could say.”
“Entertaining it was!” You hear the voice first before you see the person, the one who must’ve come in when you were rather preoccupied with your boyfriend. Park Jimin, your other coworker, slides behind the counter in a brown apron identical to yours and Yoongi’s, just minus the cap. Good, that means he doesn’t have a bad hair day today and can take the position at the register instead of you. You could use some more time to learn to make the drinks, anyway.
“Didn’t know you and your boyfriend were such exhibitionists, Kim,” Jimin taunts you, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively. “Although, if my boyfriend were that hot, I would have wanted to exhibit him too…” He purses his lips in an exaggerated manner of faux thinking, obviously trying to rile you up. “Lucky you, Kim.”
“Shut up, Park,” you seethe through your teeth, slapping him with a dish rag while he cackles happily. “We’re not exhibitionists. You just have terrible timing.”
“Oh, it was perfect I’d say, just in time to catch sight of his tongue going into your mouth—”
“JIMIN!”
When Jimin continues making fun of you by making gross kissing sounds, you turn to Yoongi for help. As the oldest amongst you three, he must have a sound solution to get Jimin to stop making those awful sounds and put you out of your misery. Although, your trust in him is probably misplaced as Yoongi just chuckles and tells you something your own mom would tell you whenever you’re telling on Jeongguk: “Just ignore him, Kiddo.” The sacred word of ignore. “Go prepare the breakfast pastries now.”
So much for sound solution.
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You go about your shift as usual, with Jimin manning the register like you planned to. Time goes by quickly when you’re busy working (and when your coworker is Park Jimin) that you didn’t realize it’s almost time for your shift to end. You glance at the line in front of Jimin and see that there are still three more people he needs to serve, while you and Yoongi still have about five tickets to finish before you can clock out and leave. Scratch that, might be eight tickets to go considering the workers who have their shift after you aren’t here yet. It’s gonna be a while before you can see your boyfriend and be a witness to an unnecessary fight between him and Yoongi.
“Hey, Kim, where’s your boyfriend? Didn’t you say he was gonna pick you up from work?” Jimin nudges your elbow when he finishes taking one customer’s order, sliding a plastic cup into the queue in front of you. “I want to see just how hot he really is,” he continues while wiggling his eyebrows.
Before you can slap the guy with your dish rag again—it’s looking more like your weapon rather than a cleaning tool at this point—Yoongi pipes up from his position in front of the sink. “Just look for someone with a tattoo sleeve. He loves brandishing it.”
“Ooh, a hot guy with tattoos,” Jimin whistles. “Add some piercings and I might steal him away from you.”
“Jimin, quit drooling over my boyfriend,” you sigh, taking the next cup in line as your coworker turns back to the register. He’s already starting to greet the next customer when you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, sliding next to him to brew the espresso needed for the order you’re making. “He has one on his lip, but he’s mine. Note that, Park,” you whisper to him while he’s keying in an order, earning a light chuckle from the man.
“He’s just messing with you, Kiddo, don’t mind him,” Yoongi chuckles from beside you, eyeing Jimin whose focus is currently on the cup he’s scribbling a customer’s name on. “He has his eyes set on someone else already.”
“Gossiping, aren’t we?” Jimin turns to you and Yoongi with a sleazy smile. “Careful now, unless you want Hoseok to know about your hot boyfriend too, Kim.” He gestures to the glass doors, where Hoseok from the next shift just walked through. He’s a great guy, but you’ve only shared a couple shifts with him, so you think you haven’t got to the point of sharing about significant others.
With the mention of Hoseok, you and Yoongi move to finish the orders you have left before handing over the shift to the aforementioned man. When all your orders are done and you’re ready to head to the backroom, you turn to ask Jimin to go with you only to find him still rooted in front of the register. “Jimin, you’re not going?”
“Oh, I’m actually covering for Eunbi.” Jimin shrugs, sliding a cup into Hoseok’s line of orders. “Go, Kim. Have fun with your boyfriend,” he grins, sending you a teasing wink.
Hoseok, a clueless witness, looks at the both of you with a scandalous stare. “What, what, what did I miss? Why are you winking like that, Park Jimin?” he says, urging Jimin to elaborate while pouring drinks into a plastic cup.
“You should ask her, Hobi,” Jimin snickers into his hand as he turns to greet a customer. Hoseok turns to you, his expression hopeful that you will shed light on the reason behind Jimin’s wink.
“My boyfriend is about to fight with our boss and I don’t know how to talk him out of it,” you say through your teeth, giving an overly-sweet smile to a confused Hoseok. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to meet him and make sure he’s not gonna bite Yoongi’s head off.”
“Bye, Kim,” Jimin sing-songs, waving his hand to you. “Say hi to your boyfriend for me!”
You’re already walking away, turning to tell Jimin off when you bump into Yoongi who’s just came out of the backroom, void of his work apron and ready to go. He grabs your shoulders to turn you around, pushing you into the backroom to prevent anymore banter between you and Jimin. “Let it go, Kiddo.”
In the backroom, you catch a text from Jeongguk saying that he’s already in the coffee shop, ready to go when you are. You emerge from the room after clocking out, moving your feet to the dining area of the cafe while waving to Jimin and Hoseok behind the counter. Scanning the room, you search for a familiar mop of black hair that belongs to your boyfriend.
It’s easy to spot Yoongi’s mint hair amongst the sea of other natural-colored hairs. What’s not easy is believing your eyes when you see the person sitting in front of Yoongi waving wildly at you, grinning like a mad man. It’s your boyfriend, the person you’re supposed to see after work, the person you’re supposed to supervise when he fights your boss later, alright, that part you know. The part that you don’t know and have a hard time believing is:
Jeongguk’s hair is mint.
Not black, not brown, not the experimental half-half he tried in high school. Mint.
The exact same shade as Yoongi’s.
It feels like you’re on autopilot when your feet carry you to their table, jaw on the floor while your eyes are stuck on Jeongguk’s freshly-dyed strands.
“Hi, babe,” your boyfriend has the audacity to say, lips stretching impossibly wider. He reaches up to run his fingers through his mint hair, an act so deliberate even Yoongi sighs at the sight of it, but it makes your heart skip a bit nonetheless. “Do you like my new hair?”
The light green strands previously tangled with his fingers fall back to cover his forehead and frame his face perfectly, the light hue somehow blending well with Jeongguk’s skin tone. It also accentuates his jaw more, making it appear sharper when the grin on his lips morphs into a smirk once he notices that you can’t stop staring. Oh, that smirk. Usually hot with his previously black hair, it is now lethal with his mint hair, toeing the line of playful and dangerous at the same time.
You want to scream at the obvious and cheesy question.
Yoongi, the third person who’s been watching the entire interaction unfold before his eyes, clears his throat. “If you’re done eye-fucking your boyfriend, can we go now? I have somewhere else to be after this.”
“Yoongi!” you whisper-shout, half scandalized, half disbelieving that your boss can say something so crude in the middle of his own buzzing coffee shop. Maybe he’s been hanging out with Park Jimin too much. (Or maybe he’s just sick of you drooling over your boyfriend time and time again … yeah, maybe that.)
“Can’t wait to lose to me, Min?” Jeongguk snickers, taking your hand in his as he follows Yoongi—who pointedly ignores his taunting question—towards the glass door of the coffee shop.
You catch Jimin’s eyes as you’re stepping out, his eyes rounding in surprise before a sly smile takes over his features. Have fun! he mouths, giving you a wink. Ugh, you’re gonna face a lot more questions the next time you have a shift together with him.
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After another futile attempt at talking Jeongguk out of fighting with Yoongi, you’re seated where you usually are, on the sidelines of Jeongguk’s gym, this time with heightened anxiety out of fear that your boyfriend and your boss could hurt each other. You’re worried less about the physical part—boxing is a very physical sport, after all—and more about the mental part.
Boys are full of pride, full of ego. They pride themselves on their ability to box, delivering punch after punch until their knuckles bruise. They pride themselves on their muscles, bulging biceps that took years to build and maintain. They pride themselves on their strength, how they are able to hold you up against the wall when you’re busy sucking air off each other’s lungs.
Oh, and in case it’s not clear, by boys you mean Jeongguk.
You have a lot of faith in your boyfriend, of course, but knowing Yoongi’s boxing skills, no matter how long ago it was, the outcome of the fight today could just be the one that would hurt Jeongguk’s pride. The possibility of it happening is so high that you’re already preparing yourself for when Jeongguk comes back to you with his ego bruised. God, you can only hope Yoongi won’t hit too hard.
You’re too busy thinking of the many possible outcomes of this fight that you don’t realize when Jeongguk is back from putting his gloves on and warming up, now standing in front of you. “Wish me luck?” he says, along with a toothy grin your way.
“Yeah, good luck, Ggukie,” you reply, lacking your usual sarcastic bite. Jeongguk seems to pay no mind to it, though, ducking down to peck your lips before turning around to face his opponent for the day.
You catch Yoongi’s eyes when Jeongguk has his back to you, quickly mouthing don’t hurt him! to your boss, which he only responds with a smirk. All the blood drains from your face. Looks like your worries about someone getting his ego bruised won’t be just worries after all.
When the fight has started (Jeongguk’s coach started it—you’re grateful he’s there because then you don’t have to worry too much about Jeongguk and Yoongi beating each other to a pulp), you can’t help but watch. You just realize, in the years you’ve known Jeongguk and watched him box, you’ve never actually seen him fight anyone else other than his coach. He’s said before that he only took boxing as a way to work out, not to actually fight, so you guess that makes sense.
You don’t watch boxing matches a lot (actually, you don’t watch them at all), your only knowledge of boxing you get from watching Real Steel, a movie about boxing matches for robots, set in the far future when human boxing is not interesting anymore due to the limited brutality. You’re not sure how much information you retained from the movie, and how accurate they are, but you’re pretty sure you don’t need much boxing knowledge to know that right now, Yoongi is playing defensive while Jeongguk is playing offensive.
Alright, you admit, you have no idea if the terms you’re using are right, but it’s the simplest ones you can use to describe the sight in front of you. Since the start of the fight, Jeongguk has been throwing punches continuously, while Yoongi has had his gloved hands covering his face the entire time. Okay, not the entire time, but he’s only thrown one punch compared to Jeongguk’s one hundred ones.
As the fight goes on, Yoongi starts throwing punches here and there while still dodging Jeongguk’s aggressive fists. You’ve never seen Yoongi move this much in the entire time you’ve known him, and it surprises you how agile he is. The way he ducks under Jeongguk’s arm and throws him off balance is admirable, sometimes a little bit funny (just a bit, you promise) because it shows just how calm he is compared to Jeongguk’s aggressive, almost-angry boxing style.
When Jeongguk’s coach declares a break, your boyfriend walks back to you with his brows furrowed, tearing off one of his gloves so he can remove his mouth guard and grab his water bottle. After chugging down half of its content, Jeongguk heaves a frustrated sigh.
“I can’t grasp his fighting style,” he grumbles to himself. His eyes are set on Yoongi, who’s on the other side of the room, drinking from his own water bottle. “Who the fuck ducks all the time while boxing?”
“Maybe it’s because you keep throwing angry punches at him, babe,” you say, initially to keep his frustration at bay, but instead it makes him raise his eyebrow at you in a duh way. You backtrack immediately. “Okay, okay. But it’s just your first time fighting him, isn’t it? Be patient, Jeongguk, and maybe let up your punches a little bit?”
“Baby, it’s boxing,” he says exasperatedly. “Someone has to throw some punches.”
“I know, but you just seem so … angry. Yoongi’s only ducking to dodge that. I’m saying maybe you can tone it down so he could stop dodging, so then you can see his fighting style better.” You’re saying this while gripping his biceps, hoping your words can go through his seemingly-clouded mind. “When you see his fighting style, won’t it be easier to figure out a way you can beat him? Isn’t that what you taunted him with at the cafe?”
You know it’s not even remotely possible to learn one’s boxing style just from a single fight, let alone “figure out a way to beat him”. Somewhere in his fogged mind, you believe Jeongguk stores this fact as well, he’s just currently too deep in frustration to place it in the front of his mind. You’re not even sure your suggestion to learn Yoongi’s fighting style is registered well in his head, considering your boyfriend is now back to eyeing your boss with fire in his gaze.
“Jeongguk?” You give his shoulder a firm grip as he puts his mouth guard back on. “Tone it down. Yoongi could just be waiting to punch back. You don’t want that.”
Jeongguk parts ways with you with an absent-minded nod and two pats to your head with his heavy gloved-hand. On the other side of the room, Yoongi looks ready to go back into his fighting stance. You sigh internally. Jeongguk is so going to punch him aggressively, again.
The next thirty minutes of the fight goes like a blur in front of your eyes. Jeongguk throws a hook that Yoongi dodges, Yoongi retaliates with a jab to Jeongguk’s side which makes you wince, rinse and repeat. Maybe you’re wrong about your boyfriend for once, you think, seeing his calmer fighting style now. With the way he left your conversation minutes prior, you really thought he was gonna continue raining punches on any part of Yoongi’s body he could reach. You’re relieved that that’s not the case.
Although, perhaps your relief came too soon because a boxing match isn’t over until it’s over.
Watching Jeongguk fight with Yoongi is like watching a cartoon character with an energy meter atop his head, except for Jeongguk, it measures his patience instead. As the minutes went on, you feel like you could see the patience meter above his head depleting until it’s all gone, and that’s the moment he went back to his initial fighting style: aggressive and angry. You almost pull your hair out in frustration because you just know that this is what Yoongi has been waiting for ever since the fight started.
The next thing that happens reminds you a lot of one fighting scene in Real Steel, where Atom was waiting for his opponent to run out of energy so he can fight back. In the movie, Atom knocked the other robot down with a final uppercut, gaining him a win and advancing him to the next round. Well, uh, in this case, just replace Atom with Yoongi and the other robot with Jeongguk.
Yoongi’s clean uppercut wiped your boyfriend out, who’s now lying on the ground clutching his face—which you’re sure is beginning to swell right now. Despite already knocking Jeongguk down, Yoongi is still in his fighting stance, never lowering his guard even as Jeongguk’s coach counts to ten. Your boyfriend remains immobile, though, and the second the count is up you’re running towards Jeongguk’s limp body.
“Gguk, are you okay? Baby, look at me,” you say hurriedly as you try to pry his arms away from his face. He doesn’t budge, and for a second, you’re scared that Yoongi has maimed your boyfriend for life. “At least let me know you’re alive,” you continue when his silence becomes concerning.
“Hmmph,” Jeongguk grunts. You heave a huge sigh of relief.
“Okay, good.” You run your fingers through his sweaty hair, trying to offer some comfort even though you know he had this coming. Gigantic ego, big talk, cocky as shit? Yeah, you understand that Yoongi would want to knock him down a few pegs. But now is not the time to launch into an ‘I told you so’ spiel, not when Jeongguk is still freshly bruised—both his body and his ego.
So instead, you lash out at your boss.
“I told you not to hurt him, Yoongi,” you snap-slash-whine, a frown on your lips. You thought, as the oldest among all of you, Yoongi could be trusted to knock some sense into Jeongguk’s mind without physically hurting him like this. As it turns out, all boys are the same.
The older guy just shrugs. “Probably wouldn’t get my point across if he weren’t knocked down.” He shakes the sweat out of his hair as he starts taking off his boxing gloves. When he sees you’re not impressed, he chuckles. “Relax, Kiddo, I didn’t even hit him that hard. He’ll be okay.”
“Really, Yoongi?” You roll your eyes. “You gave my boyfriend an uppercut just to prove a point!”
Yoongi just continues laughing as he chugs from his water bottle. His nonchalance about this is starting to piss you off. Maybe it’s your turn to put on the boxing gloves and sock him in the face, give him a taste of his own medicine. You scoff to yourself, picturing your own body lying next to Jeongguk if you really did that.
“Just tell your boyfriend here that there’s no need to be jealous of me, Kiddo,” Yoongi says, picking up his bag. Just then, Jeongguk’s coach appears with an ice pack in his hand, offering it to you so you can place it against Jeongguk’s swollen jaw. Despite your attempt to coax him out of his arm cocoon, he still refuses to move.
“Yoongi, look at him, you really broke him.” You’re flat-out whining now, kicking your feet like a child. It doesn’t even occur to your mind that you’re all still in the middle of a public boxing gym, with other people around you, being witness to this ridiculous scene.
“Oh my God,” Yoongi laughs before crouching down at Jeongguk’s legs. “Hey, Jeongguk, you hear that? Your girlfriend is worried about you,” he says, nudging Jeongguk’s leg lightly. “She only has eyes for you and your tattoos, too, you don’t need to be jealous at all.” You smack him on the shoulder for that.
Jeongguk finally removes his arms from his face at Yoongi’s words, his doe eyes menacing. “Go away,” he grits out at the older male, his scratchy voice making him sound less threatening than he intended. Despite that, Yoongi still holds his hands up in surrender.
“I’m going, I’m going,” Yoongi relents, standing up while adjusting the hold he has on his bag. “Was gonna go anyway, I have a date to get ready for,” he throws a grin your way. “Alright, I’ll be going first. Take care of your boyfriend, Kiddo.”
Yoongi retreats with a wave towards you both.
Jeongguk lets out a groan, shifting your attention away from your boss who’s already backing his car out of the parking lot. “Quit your job tomorrow,” he says. “I hate your boss.”
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“Stop moving around!”
“It hurts!”
You’re both back at Jeongguk’s house now, with you sitting atop his outstretched legs on the bed, attempting to take care of his battle wounds courtesy of his fight with Yoongi. Aside from the swollen jaw, Jeongguk has a cut on his eyebrow and a split bottom lip. For a boxing match, you’d say these are minor injuries—proving Yoongi’s words right, he didn’t hit Jeongguk that hard—but your boyfriend is acting like a baby. He keeps jerking his head away every time the alcohol swab comes in contact with either of his cuts, it irritates you to no end.
“You have a goddamn full sleeve of tattoo and a lip piercing, quit acting like this hurts more,” you hiss, pressing the cotton in your hand to the cut on his lip as Jeongguk hiss back in response.
“At least when I got my tattoos and piercing, the artist didn’t do it while yapping my ear off,” he lisps through the cotton. “What happened to the caring girlfriend at the gym? Did she go away too, alongside Yoongi?”
“Oh, shut up, if I yapped back there Yoongi would’ve stomped on your ego more than he already did, do you want that, Jeongguk? Huh?” Your words are harsh, but you try hard for your hands to be the opposite, gentle as they cover the cut on his eyebrow with a band-aid. Jeongguk’s forehead is still damp from his quick shower earlier, beads of mint clinging to his skin. He might look smoking hot with his newly dyed hair, but the way the color rubs off on anything is starting to get onto your nerves. You wipe lightly at the color to make sure the band-aid sticks to his skin and does not come off the second he jumps around again.
“My ego is fine, you don’t need to protect it like this,” Jeongguk grumbles, adjusting the ice pack he’s holding to his jaw as you press a new cotton ball on his lip, discarding the one stained crimson red to his bedside table. “Maybe if you care about me as much as you care about my ego, everything would’ve been better.”
The way he’s rambling like he got his sense knocked out of his head as well makes you roll your eyes to the back of your head. “Don’t test me, Jeon. If I didn’t care about you I wouldn’t be here sitting on your thighs patching your minuscule injuries like they’re fucking wounds from a war.”
“Maybe,” Jeongguk half-agrees, a pout on his lips. “But you haven’t kissed me even once ever since the fight ended. Do I not deserve a kiss because I lost? Do you not want to kiss me ever again because I can’t beat Yoongi in boxing? Do you think Yoongi is way better than me now? Do you want him to be your boyfriend instead of me?”
With every nonsensical question, his pout deepens, and his eyes droop to stare blankly at nothing.
“Hah, ‘my ego is fine’ my ass,” you mumble, mostly to yourself as you turn the gears in your head on how to stop the bleeding on Jeongguk’s lip. It keeps gushing out blood, and you can’t exactly stick a band-aid to it like you did his eyebrow. At last, you just hold a cotton ball against it and hope it stops bleeding soon.
“Yoongi was right, you know,” you say clearly now, the tumble of Yoongi’s name out of your lips making Jeongguk glance up and focus his sight on your face. “You don’t need to be jealous of him at all. Heck, you don’t need to be jealous of anyone, Jeongguk. I’m your girlfriend and will always stay your girlfriend, no matter what. You don’t need to beat anyone in boxing or dye your hair the exact same shade as anyone for me to stay. You, Jeon Jeongguk, are enough.”
Jeongguk’s eyes, gazing into yours, are glassy with unshed tears. You don’t know if they are there because he’s touched by your words or are leftovers from crying over his bruised ego from the fight with Yoongi. Either way, it throws you off balance. Next thing you know, you’re being tugged down by the nape for a kiss.
Jeongguk’s lips are warm, like usual, but the tinge of metal you taste on your tongue is making you worry. Before you lose yourself in his kiss, you pull away to thumb at his lip lightly, seeing streaks of red on your skin. You’re about to continue pressing the cotton ball in your hand to his lips and stop all forms of kissing immediately, but your boyfriend has a mind of his own as he instead sucks your thumb into his mouth, wrapping his lips around the digit delicately as he holds eye contact with you.
Gone is the trace of any tears from his eyes, now replaced by something you can only identify as lust. As flattered as you are that Jeongguk finds you desirable in your current situation, it also makes you confused. He’s hurt and the only thing in his mind is getting his dick wet? Unbelievable.
The ice-cold feeling on your waist tears your attention away from Jeongguk’s dark eyes as you yelp, hand instinctively prying the cold thing away. The ‘thing’ turns out to be his hand, which was previously holding the ice pack to his swollen jaw. He’s sneaked his fucking cold hand under your shirt to hold your waist when he should’ve kept holding the ice pack to his jaw—his swollen jaw!
Your boyfriend has a swollen jaw, a busted lip and a cut eyebrow. This is not the time to be screwing around.
Pulling away your thumb out of Jeongguk’s mouth at the speed of light, you attempt to climb off his lap, but he’s read your mind even before they are conjured up in your own brain. His hands are back on your waist—yes, the cold one too—and they hold you firm in place. The side of Jeongguk’s lips turn up into a sickeningly sweet smile, before he tugs your body towards his, making your hips come in contact with his crotch. He’s hard. Oh, fuck.
“You know, I never really understood why you’re so bratty whenever you’re horny and I can’t tend to you right away, but I think I get it now,” he says right by your ear, making a shiver run down your spine. “I’ve been trying to will away my boner ever since you sat on my lap, but your weight on it is so damn distracting, it’s hard.”
“So,” he punctuates the word with a kiss on your neck, “I started saying anything to get my mind off it, but the way you care for me just … turns me on even more, if that was even possible.” He noses his way down your throat, coming to a stop at your collarbone. “And then all that talk about how I am enough … holy shit, I lost it. All I could think about was how I want to kiss you and fuck you into next week on this very bed.”
You can barely hear the last few words Jeongguk is saying, because he’s mumbling them into your skin as he peppers kisses and nips there. His fingers are now pressing into your back, pulling you closer and closer to him until there is no space left between you. You crane your neck so he can have more room to splash reds and purples onto your skin, sighing to the top of his mint head.
“You know, for someone claiming to be horny, you’re doing a terrible job at dirty talk,” you jab at your boyfriend, earning you a bite on your neck and a tightened grip on your body, making you close your eyes with stuttered breath.
“Easy, babe,” Jeongguk chuckles. “You talk as if you won’t be a moaning mess by the end of this,” he continues with much confidence. “But also, my lip is still kinda bleeding and my sides are still throbbing from the bruises. Kinda debating should we continue or just go to sleep.”
“Jeon Jeongguk I swear to God if you leave me high and dry—”
“Maybe you should kiss them better,” he cuts you off with a suggestion, his lips still trailing butterfly kisses on your neck and collarbone. The hands still on your back sneakily climb up and up until they’re reaching for the clasp of your bra, easily opening it to free your breasts from its confines. Your sound of protest gets stuck in your throat as a strangled moan comes out instead when Jeongguk massages your breasts tenderly with his fingers.
“Maybe I would—fuck—if you get rid of your shirt,” you say, tugging on the offending piece of fabric still covering your boyfriend’s gorgeous body. It’s not fair that he’s got you half naked already and he’s still fully clothed.
Jeongguk parts himself from your body long enough to tug his t-shirt off from the back of his neck in one smooth motion, exposing the golden expanse of his skin to your hungry eyes. If you thought his mint hair was smoking hot with his shirt on, it’s literally burning a flame of desire deep in your belly with his shirt off. You’re tongue-tied as you marvel at the sight in front of you, you almost jump when your own shirt and bra are taken off your body.
Now both bare from the waist up, Jeongguk wastes no time leaning back in for a kiss on the mouth, this time open-mouthed so he can slide his tongue inside. You keen happily, slipping a sigh in between as he slowly lowers you to the bed. Jeongguk anchors his hands on your hips, teasing at the waistband of your sweatpants as he keeps your mouth busy with his own. In contrast, your hands are everywhere, from his broad shoulder to his firm back, from his bulging biceps to his rock-hard abs. You even tease your fingers past his waistband, grabbing onto his ass and squeezing, making him groan hotly into your mouth. It’s only when your fingers brush against his sides that he winces, reminding you of his earlier request.
“Flip around,” you whisper against his lips, “so I can kiss your bruises better.”
“Hmm?” Jeongguk hums, your words a murmur in his head. “But I like having you like this. Under me, naked, panting, wet,” he says, slipping his hand beyond your sweatpants to prove his words right—you’ve soaked through your panties. He drags a finger slowly up your center. You shudder.
“Yeah? I can be naked, panting, and wet on top of you as well.”
“Ooh, tempting.” Jeongguk licks his lips. He flicks your clit with a cheeky smile dancing on his lips, before settling his hands back on your waist. “Alright, I’ll flip over.”
The next second, you’re staring at him from up top, admiring how his mint hair looks against his dark grey bed sheets. Although, his hair is the least of your concern right now, as you’re tugged back down for another bruising kiss. Now that you’re on top, Jeongguk takes the opportunity to return the favor that is slipping his hand into your pants to squeeze your ass, but his version involves pulling your hips down while his thrusts up, creating a delicious friction between your body that makes you exhale a moan into his mouth.
You move away from his lips, down to his jaw where you take care to land a kiss light as a feather, before moving to his neck and collarbone where you have your own share of bites and licks. Aside from your infatuation with his tattoos and biceps, you actually have another one with his collarbone, this one you keep secret from him lest he goes around the house shirtless more often just to brandish his clavicle. But maybe he’s already noticed from the way you always make sure to cover that body part of his in blooms of red and purple, taking care to trace each and every bite mark slowly with the tip of your tongue.
While you’re busy with his collarbone, Jeongguk keeps dragging your crotch steadily over his, like he can’t get enough of the feeling and wants to keep chasing it. The delicious pressure on your center is a bit distracting, so you smooth your palm across his chest to pinch at his nipple in warning. Jeongguk lets out a broken whine from his throat.
“Stop humping into me, do you want to cream your pants?” you chide, fingers still giving tiny pinches to his nipple to keep him on his toes.
“Was trying to get you to cream your pants,” Jeongguk grins guiltily, his hips snapping up yet again to collide with yours. Even if you roll your eyes at his antics, you still continue your journey of kissing down his body, making sure to suck and lick on his sensitive nipples. You love the moans and groans that slip out of his throat every time you do things to his nipples. He likes it so much that his hips keep chanting up, searching for friction, that you have to pin them down so you can slide down to pepper kisses on his abs and waist.
Jeongguk works really hard to maintain the body he has, clearly evident in the eight pack he’s sporting on his stomach and the tiny, minuscule waist that’s way too slutty for a man to have. Sometimes you’re jealous of how nice his body looks, how firm it is to touch. You told him this one time, along with your regret that you couldn’t give him a similar experience, but he’d only laughed and said that admiring and appreciating him was enough, before proceeding to show you how he admires and appreciates your soft body (he kept biting into your inner thigh as he was eating you out, coaxing you into four orgasms back to back that day.)
And so, you admire his body by kissing the taut muscle one by one, tracing the lines outlining them with your hot tongue, caressing his bruised waist with the pillow of your lips and the feather of your touch. You know he’s hurt, but you can’t hold yourself from nipping on his slutty waist, gifting him another bruise that’s not a result of a punch. From the choked sob that rips out of his throat and the jump of his dick somewhere on your stomach, you take it he likes the bite.
“So,” you say as you mouth at the seam of his waistband, hand massaging his hard cock through his pants. “Do you want to cum in your pants, in my hand, in my mouth, or—?”
“Fuck, in you, please,” Jeongguk begs, eyes glassy from your ministrations. “But can we go back to dry humping for a while? Kinda like the friction on my sweatpants,” he breathes.
“Like this?” You move your hand up and down his cock, dragging the material of his sweatpants with it, paying special attention to the head. With every rub of the sweatpants against his head, a bead of precum comes out, with Jeongguk throwing his head back in silent pleasure. “Yeah, fuuck, that feels good.”
“But babe, want you, on top,” he demands, making grabby hands at you. “Was serious when I said I wanted you to cum first,” he continues, sighs in content when you oblige, resuming your position on top of him and lining your clothed crotch with his. He starts dragging your hips against his, building the pleasure up the faster he goes. “Want to fuck your swollen pussy, dripping with cum. Oh, I’ll slide right in, no problem, so wet, warm … fuuuck.”
The grip Jeongguk has on your hips is bruising, you have no choice but to let your body be manhandled by him. Slowly but surely, the band inside your stomach begins to tighten as your hold on his shoulders does as well. You’re so close, just one more move to tip you over the edge. When Jeongguk sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, the band inside you snaps and you come with a jerk of your hips and a whine from your throat.
Jeongguk slows down his move, taking care not to cum before being inside you, before stopping altogether and wrapping his arms around you to bring the both of you into a sitting position. Your limbs feel like jelly, still trying to come down from your high, when Jeongguk pecks your cheek before carefully lying you back down on the bed with your face down. He then maneuvers himself behind you, lifting your hips off the bed. You’re starting to have an idea what position he wants you in when he spreads your knees and slowly peels back your pants and panties to reveal your bare ass and pussy.
He takes his time caressing the globe of your ass, inching his fingers towards your pussy lips before spreading them apart, tearing a low whine from your chest. You guess he’s admiring the way cum still drips out of your cunt, because he’s silent, immobile for almost a minute.
“Gguk…” you whisper out. “You gonna fuck me or not?”
Jeongguk scrambles to get his pants off. “Fuck, yes, of course, baby, you just look so beautiful like this, I want to stare all day long,” he breathes, lining up his dick with your entrance.
God, I’m so thankful you’re mine, is his last warning before he slides home in one thrust.
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Later, when you’re both freshly showered and cuddling on Jeongguk’s bed—with blue bed sheets this time, because you forced him to change the sheets as the grey ones smelled gross after your activities—you ask him a question.
“Are you still jealous of Yoongi?”
There’s a three second pause before Jeongguk’s answer comes. “Maybe a tiny bit,” he says, nearly connecting his thumb and forefinger together in a ‘tiny’ motion. “Of his boxing skills only. Amazing how he could still move like that with an injured shoulder. I want to be like that too.”
“You want to injure your shoulder?”
He gives you a flat look. You giggle.
“His shoulder is actually healed, you know, so he’s still actively boxing until now. He trains the boxing club at my campus whenever our coach can't, that’s where I know him from and how I’d gotten the job at his cafe.”
Jeongguk purses his lips. “So he lied to me.”
“Hmm,” you agree. “I figured it was to ‘teach you a lesson’, that’s why I asked him not to hurt you before your fight. Did you, though? Learn your lesson?”
“What? To not be jealous of him?”
You pinch his waist. “To knock your ego down a peg and stop feeling insecure whenever I interact with other men?”
“Baby, the guy had a nickname for you. My insecurities were valid!”
“You mean the ‘Kiddo’ one?” you ask. Jeongguk nods. “He calls Jimin Kiddo. He calls Eunbi Kiddo. He calls you Kiddo. He calls everyone younger than him, Kiddo.”
More silence ensues.
“So … my jealousy was for nothing?”
“Yes! What I’ve been saying!”
Jeongguk giggles. Then he kisses you. Then he giggles again, while still kissing you.
“How about an apology?” he offers.
“In what form?” you challenge.
“Round three?”
“No.”
Well, at least he’s not jealous anymore.
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a/n: thank you for reading!! please let me know what you think of this, i literally almost cried in the process of writing it and when i finally finished it :') and yes this started because of that one mint jeongguk in memories 2020/2021, i think? the one with him in a black sleeveless and a pair of sunglasses, hahah. wish he'd dye his hair mint again (he looks rly good in it ugh)
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captain-joongz · 2 days
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A little show
Pairing: Min Yoongi x f!reader
Genre: uni au, pure smut with a dash of plot, some fluff, strangers to lovers
Word count: 9.6k
Summary: Who knew that getting off in the uni bathroom to get away from the world's most boring lecture could lead to getting absolutely railed by a cute postgrad student... but third time's the charm, right?
Warnings: slight exhibitionism, masturbation in a public bathroom, sex in a public bathroom (for once they're even using condoms lol), yoongi is a little shit but he'll rock your world, dirty talk, slight choking kink, dom-ish yoongi, who am i kidding he's a fucking beast, fingering, backshots, rough sex, some begging, biting and marking, they literally don't talk to each once before fucking
A/N: oof this was totally unplanned but i cannot be held responsible for anything after seeing the d-day concert movie, this is all yoongi's fault. also it ends surprisingly fluffy for the filth that's contained within
credit for the divider to @saradika-graphics, thank you so much <3
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I blinked rapidly, trying to keep myself awake while the lecturer droned on, his nervous slightly stuttering voice carrying through the classroom and lulling everyone into a half-asleep haze. Every Tuesday I had to sit through 90 minutes of this man stumbling through every topic, trying to connect with the classroom full of people while anxiously stepping around the whiteboard projecting his presentation.
I was fully understanding, this was his first year teaching and he still hasn’t shaken off the stage fright, but that didn’t stop me from wishing I had never enrolled into this class and rather spent the time doing literally anything else. It didn’t help that it was an afternoon lecture, dragging on until 5PM, which was usually the time I was already completely fried.
I looked around, noting the other students similarly fighting off sleep or browsing internet on their notebooks, some valiantly still trying to keep their attention on the lecturer and failing miserably. I watched the girl in the row in front of me order a cute sweater, deliberating between two colours for about ten minutes before choosing strawberry pink. I approved.
My body was screaming from being bent over the desk in my boredom, back bent so crooked when I straightened out it cracked vertebra after vertebra like a xylophone from nightmares. I sighed, squirmed around, checked the time. Only 5 minutes have passed since I last looked. I barely suppressed a groan. I couldn’t sit still for longer than a minute, leaning back then pressing forward, folding and unfolding my legs, just trying to find a comfortable position to spend the next 40 minutes in and failing.
After 5 more minutes I reached a boiling point, playing with the thought of just booking it halfway through, but instead my unoccupied brain started entertaining itself by slipping into a territory that it deemed more fun. I started thinking about what I’d rather be doing, where I’d rather be, flushing slightly from embarrassment but surrendering to these thoughts as they presented at least some form of entertainment.
I made it barely 10 minutes before I was so painfully wet and aroused I definitely couldn’t make it through the lecture anymore. I had to do something about it, now.
I wasn’t shy about the fact that I occasionally enjoyed wanking in some more public spaces like bathrooms, the thrill of someone possibly coming in and having to keep quiet was getting to me. I didn’t indulge in it often, just when I got really bored and my brain immediately went to “let’s get off to entertain ourselves” instead of doing something normal like other people, just when I was sure there was only a slight chance of someone actually coming across me.
But thinking all that, I realised I’d never taken such liberty while I was in the uni building, probably just thinking about getting out of there as quickly as possible, but fuck, this lecture was getting to me. Somehow it felt more morally wrong than some other random ass places, but I deliberated on it. We were in a secluded corner of the building, it was really high and there was no elevator, the classrooms were smaller and above there was construction going on, which resulted in this place usually being totally deserted except for those unlucky souls that still had lectures here. I was pretty sure there was no other class going on here right now and the chance of someone from here going to the bathroom at the same time was slim.
On a whim I decided to take the risk, my body heating up knowing I was about to give in to the need. I quickly stood up, grabbed my phone and made my way outside. The hall was empty except for a single guy sitting by a table directly across from the bathroom door, but I figured it would be fine. He was wearing headphones anyway, head bobbing to a beat I couldn’t hear and fingers nimbly clicking something on his laptop and toying with the mouse. I slipped past him quietly and went straight for the bathroom door.
Inside was quiet, as if cut off from the outside world, the only two toilets both empty and door wide open. I went to the further one, not that it made much difference with how small the room was, but it still made me feel a little better.
With the door closed and locked for better feeling of security, the excitement finally got the better of me and I rushed to stick my hand into my skirt to pull down my tights and panties, fingers immediately finding the slick folds.
I bent over, the stall small enough to allow me to lean on my elbow on one wall while my ass pressed into the other, fingers going straight for my clit and wasting no time in pressing on it and circling it desperately. Quiet sighs of pleasure spilled from my lips, body trembling with pleasure heightened by the fact I was in a public space.
I barely even touched myself and I could already feel how fucked out I was getting, knees shaking and the pleasure mounting dangerously fast. In my mind I imagined myself bent over the toilet and a warm presence behind me, getting fucked good, strong hands gripping my waist hard, pulling me back on the cock like a toy while telling me to shut up, laughing at me while I bit my fist trying not to let the whole university know how good I was feeling.
My orgasm was approaching embarrassingly quickly, the pad of my finger furiously toying with my clit while my knees were shaking with the mounting pressure waiting to snap. I was so wet I felt my juices dripping down my thighs, dripping onto my hand and making my finger slip all the time as I tried to get myself to cum as fast as possible.
That didn’t seem to be that hard as I could already feel myself hurling towards the edge, cunt spasming around nothing, desperately wishing to be filled, as my ass pressed harder into the wall and my back arched. I could feel a little cramp starting up in my wrist, but I didn’t let up, keeping the pace on my clit as I felt the start of an intense orgasm, the sensation bursting through me like a tornado and I let out a moan muffled into the crook of my elbow. My knees buckled with the force of it and thank god that I was still leaning on the wall otherwise I would have for sure fallen down.
My whole body relaxed, thighs and knees still shaking as I tried to get my breathing back under control. The bathroom was suddenly eerily quiet now that there wasn’t blood rushing through my ears and I wasn’t blinded by my own ecstasy, and I flushed in embarrassment but still couldn’t stop myself from a little joyful giggle leaving my lips in breathless wonder.
I took my time getting myself back into order, cleaning myself up and righting my clothes again. I was in there for only about 15 minutes, so there was no reason to rush. I did notice that my legs had a little boneless swagger to them as I suddenly went from high strung in boredom to perhaps a little too relaxed, a stupid little grin pulling at my lips as I swayed my hips leisurely.
But that changed the moment I walked back out onto the hall. The second I was out of the bathroom I immediately found myself in direct eye contact with the sole student sitting out there. I only had a second to note he was very attractive before I realised he was watching me with the air of amusement, eyes darkening and a smirk forming on his lips as he leaned back and gave me a once over.
I flushed under his heavy gaze, freezing like a deer in headlights. It was obvious he knew what I’d been doing in there, something in my demeanour must have given me away. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his eyes lingering on my hands clutched together before amused grin set onto his face.
I broke out from the daze suddenly and set into motion again, escaping his hungry eyes and entertained aura, hurriedly scurrying back into the classroom where I sat stewing in my own shame for the rest of the lecture.
When I walked back out after we were dismissed, the hall was empty, to my great relief.
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“Come on, you should come tomorrow at least for a little bit,” Jungkook whined, pouting at me and hands tugging at the sleeve of my shirt. I gave him an unimpressed look, firmly resistant to his charms, which probably made me the only person in the world that was capable of that.
“I told you Kookie, I’m not feeling it this week,” I said for the fifteenth time that day, “Maybe next time.” The dance major cutely stomped his foot and tugged on my sleeve again. His wild hair flailed around with the wind, probably getting into his eyes, but he ignored it in favour of annoying me.
“But the next party won’t be for god knows how long,” he whined, giving me his ultimate puppy eyes and blinking cutely, “Come on Y/N, you need to let go a little.” Now, I would lie if I wasn’t swayed a little bit, but the exhaustion was weighing on me and I was looking forward to just having a quiet evening in ignoring all of my responsibilities and pretending I have no essays due and there aren’t any deadlines I was missing.
“I’m sorry Kook,” I softened my tone a little to convey I truly was apologetic, smiling at him gently, “I promise I will definitely go to the next party.” The man brightened and straightened out, letting go of me and setting out on the sidewalk leading out of the campus.
“I have your word! No takebacks!” he shouted excitedly and I ran after him laughing. I knew he wouldn’t let me forget it, so I just resigned myself to going to the next party even though I quite disliked them. I had nothing against partying, but I just preferred to go clubbing and dancing, not spend my evening sitting on a stained couch in someone’s living room listening to total strangers get zoinked out of their minds and talk about assignments. But I would go for Kookie. Just once though.
We walked side by side for a moment, just enjoying the awakening spring. It was still pretty cold outside, but the sun shone more often and the temperatures were enough to wear just a light jacket instead of coats with shawls, so I soaked in the atmosphere. People were beginning to filter outside, sitting around on the green grass, talking and studying, and it was nice to see.
Looking around I suddenly froze, standing still in the middle of the path while Kook continued for a few more strides before he realised I wasn’t following. He gave me a confused look, but I was already fighting an embarrassed blush and didn’t pay him much mind.
On the grass by a big tree was quite a familiar looking student, his long wavy dark hair similarly pushed around by the wind as he bobbed his head to music presumably playing in his headphones. He was wearing all black, standing out as a sore thumb in contrast with the green lit up by sun, but he was fully engrossed in his laptop and paid no attention to anything going on around him.
“Hey Kookie,” I called out to my friend, finally looking at him, “Do you know who that guy is?” I discreetly pointed in the man’s direction, hoping I wouldn’t draw anybody’s attention by being a fucking weirdo. Jungkook was a social butterfly despite his shyness and he seemed to know half the university (probably a side effect of hanging out with Jimin all the time), even people from majors that had nothing in common with his, so I was pretty confident he would be able to correctly identify the menace of my life.
“Who?” he started confusedly looking around, eyes jumping around the students just living their lives. I tried pointing again, hoping he would see where I meant without having to outstretch my arm fully. “There, that guy in the black sitting under that tree.”
Jungkook’s eyes finally locked onto his figure and a recognition immediately lit up his face. I chuckled. Of course he did know him.
“Oh sure!” he exclaimed, “that’s Yoongi hyung. He’s a little bit university famous.” I looked at him in shock and then glanced back to the expressionless man sitting on the lawn.
“Famous? Famous how?” I pressed for more info, this time it was me who way playing up the cute act, hanging onto Jungkook’s arm and batting my eyelashes at him. He gave me an amused smile, seeing right through me.
“Well, he’s handsome and yet cool and mysterious, girls love that shit,” Kook played it up, flipping his hair sassily and fluttering his lashes, making me scoff at him amusedly, “Plus he’s a rapper and sometimes performs in the local clubs and bars, so he’s pretty popular.” I turned us away from the black-clad student who was still unaware of anything going on around him and pulled us back onto the path.
“I see,” I hummed noncommittally, not giving him any indication of why I would suddenly ask about Yoongi, but based on the amused looks Kookie was giving me, he must have had an inkling why the sudden interest.
“He’s actually in the same year as Joonie hyung, they’re interning together at the same studio,” Jungkook continued, keeping his eyes on me to gauge my reaction. I hummed again, not saying anything anymore and just sending him teasing looks.
“If you come to the party tomorrow, Yoongi’s for sure gonna be there,” Kookie mentioned seemingly casually, watching me out of the corner of his eyes as he pretended he didn’t care mischievously.
I only shot him a glare and pulled on his arm, leading us out of the campus towards the café where we were supposed to meet Jimin and Tae, Kookie’s friends who graciously adopted me into the group after I got befriended by the shy giant.
For the rest of the afternoon I could feel Jungkook’s eyes on me, his lips pulled into a barely concealed smile as he fought the impulse to tease me in front of the boys about what he must have thought was an embarrassing crush on the school’s resident heartthrob. I ostentatiously ignored him, only shooting him warning glares here and there to which he always responded with shit-eating grins. Jimin and Tae kept giving us confused and entertained glances but ultimately decided against asking what was going on, much to my relief.
God, if they only knew the truth about why Yoongi even was on my radar in the first place.
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The next Tuesday I walked into the classroom again, fully determined to sit through the whole lecture and not move even an inch from my seat. This time I chose a chair in the back, where I could comfortably be on my phone and distract myself from the thoughts of last week, from the attractive man and his smirks. I wondered whether he was sitting there again today, listening to what I now assumed was his own music, laid-back and effortlessly hot. I began to squirm in my seat again, but I quickly tempered it down, scolding myself gently for having such a one-track mind.
Once again I made it through an hour and with 30 minutes left, I began to face a crisis. The boredom was getting to me and I needed to use the toilet, my bladder screaming for help and making me shift around on my chair in discomfort. I thought that I couldn’t really face the bathroom without getting extremely embarrassed, but in the end I lost the battle to nature and got up.
Only, stepping onto the hall, I looked up and lo and behold, there he was – Yoongi sitting peacefully by the window and clicking away on his computer, his big black headphones firmly on as always. The movement by the door must have registered at the corner of his field of vision and he eagerly looked up.
The moment his eyes laid on my figure, frozen once again in the hallway and heating up under his stare, he smirked widely like he won the lottery, leaning back and making himself comfortable on the chair. With his gaze following my every movement I hurried into the bathroom, cheeks blushing and knees turning into jelly.
On instinct I went to the furthest stall and locked the door behind me shakily. Having taken care of my business I paced the stall nervously, already feeling myself bend under the tension. I promised myself I wouldn’t do it again, knowing Yoongi was sitting outside fully aware of the nature of my little trip last week, but his demeanour, the winning smirk and dark eyes made me want to break that promise.
Embarrassingly enough, I could already feel myself getting wet again and I begun to lose the conviction to just walk away and go sit back into the classroom for another terrible 30 minutes. The thoughts of Yoongi waiting in the hallway, hungrily watching the bathroom door and thinking about me with my hand up my skirt were getting to me and I finally broke.
Swiftly pulling down my tights and underwear I didn’t waste anymore time in sticking my fingers between my folds, gathering the wetness and rubbing the swollen bud begging for attention. I couldn’t hold back the little sighs and moans of pleasure, my body hyper-sensitive and the lust coursing through my body more intense than I could remember ever feeling.
It didn’t take long before I was choking on the moans I desperately tried to stifle on my arm, knees shaking and close to buckling and pussy clenching on nothing, feeling so empty and so desperate for anything I was losing my mind.
And if I was deliriously cumming on my fingers only a moment later while imagining Yoongi fucking me roughly in the uni bathroom, that was only my business.
With trembling fingers I quickly cleaned myself up, blushing when I realised I was so wet the whole top of my thighs was covered in my sticky juices. Putting myself back together I rushed to scrub my hands clean and soon I was standing behind the door, taking a few deep breaths but the excitement still getting the better of me and I eagerly walked out, expectantly looking for Yoongi’s reaction with a little sly smile on my face.
And I was not disappointed.
The second I stepped out, his head snapped in my direction, confirming that he really was waiting for me to come out. His cheeks were also lightly dusted with pink from excitement, his eyes as dark as midnight with his pupils blown wide with lust. He immediately licked his lips, eyes raking over my form and taking in the shaky knees and trembling hips, the blush on my face, both from recovering from an orgasm and shyness, hair a mess and lips bitten red.
Yoongi suddenly stood up and I realised that he packed up his laptop and headphones, all his stuff probably stuffed into his neat backpack that hung off of his shoulder. He side-stepped from the table and leisurely made his way towards me, black dress pants nicely hugging his form, white tee tucked into them accentuating his slim waist and a thick black oversized shirt hanging off him in a way that made me slightly feral.
But there was something else he wanted me to see, and I clocked it as soon as he got close enough, cheeks absolutely blazing red and my pussy valiantly clenching again even after such an orgasm.
He was hard. When my eyes slid down again to appreciate how the pants fit him so perfectly they landed on an unmistakable bulge, the front of his pants tenting in a tell-tale sign of how much he enjoyed my little show. I gasped and suddenly all confidence sapped from my body and I was left aroused and aching, willing to do anything. He watched me with a mix of condescension and arousal, knowing how easily he won over me and loving how receptive I was to just a light teasing, how the blush spread down to my collarbones and my mouth opened subconsciously, eyes glazing over and brain no doubt filled only with the thoughts of his cock.
But with an arrogant smirk he passed right by me, heading for the door of the men’s bathroom. Only when he was halfway through the door, he threw me a look over his shoulder, winking at me and his grin turned wild and rough. Then he disappeared inside.
I was left in the hall gasping for air, body ravaged by tension and lust and head full of images of Yoongi standing in the bathroom stall and hurriedly yanking at his cock, the red tip wet with pre-cum, the liquid getting smeared all over his length by his eager hands trying to get himself to completion as fast as possible. I imagined him grunting, head thrown back and mouth open but still curled into that annoying smirk.
A door opened somewhere a little down the hall and a mess of voices flowed out, startling me out of my reverie and I realised I had been just standing in the middle of an empty hallway staring dumbly at the bathroom door. I felt the bashfulness catch up to me and it sprung me into movement. With one last look at the door I scurried back into the class and spent the last 15 minutes staring into the wall with flaming red cheeks.
When I walked out after the class ended, Yoongi was back to his place, sitting completely relaxed into his chair and grinning lazily when his eyes caught mine. I felt my whole body jerk with a bolt of lust, but I ducked my head and quickly ran down the stairs, rushing out of the building and towards the café where the boys were already waiting for me. Jungkook stared at my flustered face with an unreadable expression, and I let him think whatever he wanted, too preoccupied with fighting the image of Yoongi cumming all over himself just twenty minutes ago thinking of me masturbating just a wall over.
Later that week, after many orgasms, much deliberating and a whole lot of shame I decided I needed to hear his voice. I kept thinking back to how Jungkook mentioned he was in the same year and major as Namjoon and that he was a performing rapper, and I knew Namjoon put his stuff online. And if Yoongi really was a known name in the bar scene around the area, he must have too.
Asking Jungkook about his stage name would be too humiliating, so instead I decided to rake through Namjoon’s insta because he must have his friend’s account there somewhere, hoping Yoongi would forgive me a little social media stalking. Firstly I scrolled through Namjoon’s posted pictures, but he rarely tagged other people. Most of his pictures were of artworks or Joonie doing something silly and living his best life.
So I switched to the pictures that others tagged you in. It took a while, but I was able to see that most of them were from this guy Hoseok that I had seen around but haven’t really spoken to. I knew he was a double major because he did dance like Jungkook and Jimin, but I had never realised he was also in the same major and year as Namjoon. He seemed to post a lot from the studio, often with Joon hunched over his computer in the background, but after some digging I was able to find one that had them all in it.
It was also from the studio, it must have been the one the boys were interning in, presumably all of them together. Hoseok’s face was grinning in one corner as he was taking the selfie and even though it was dark, you could clearly see two men sitting at a table together and discussing something with serious looks on their faces. A laptop sat between them and one of them had his hand lying on the pause button. It was Yoongi and Joon. Only their side-profile could be seen in the photo, but it was unmistakably them. The description only said “hyung is scolding joonie again” but tapping on the photo it showed that both of them had been tagged. Bingo.
Yoongi’s account was full of mostly dark pictures, some from the same studio and some were of him on stage mid performance, but there weren’t as many as Namjoon and Hoseok had on theirs. I scanned some of them quickly, but even though he looked super hot and the photos were extremely well done, it wasn’t the reason of my searching.
I checked the name of the account again – it was Agust D. And there was a link in the bio. Without thinking I clicked it and was transported to Spotify, Yoongi’s entire career laid out clearly in front of my eyes in the form of three albums.
I spent the evening listening to them, letting his music wash over me and losing myself in the beat and the lyrics. No matter what I was looking for when I wanted to listen to it, I got everything and more. I suddenly understood all those star-struck students that according to Kookie trailed hopelessly after Yoongi, the man had a real talent and an aura that just sucked you right in, like a fly getting trapped in a very smug spider’s web.
His voice was surprisingly lower and rougher than I anticipated, the songs had no shortage of him growling or screaming, emotions pouring off of his voice in waves that just swept me along.
And I couldn’t wait to find out what he sounded like when he was getting his rocks off.
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The next Tuesday I climbed those 4 floors of stairs confidently, wearing a short skirt and cute heels, gingerly picking a spot in the class that would allow me to slink off in the middle of the lecture again. Yoongi wasn’t sitting in the hallway yet, but I believed he’d show up soon enough.
The anticipation was coursing through my veins, making me jittery and giggly. From the corner of my eye I could see a classmate giving me a strange look, mouthing at me if I was okay and I nodded hurriedly, giving her a smile, hoping she wouldn’t pay any attention to me when I had to leave.
If the two lectures before were unbearable, this one took the cake. I could barely contain myself, squirming in my seat, trying to make myself comfortable while I checked the time every 2 minutes, wishing half the lecture had already gone by and always getting disappointed at how early it still was.
My mind was going into overdrive, feeding me ideas and fantasies, replaying last week’s encounter on loop. I couldn’t see anything except for Yoongi’s lopsided smirk planted firmly on his face as he made his way into the bathroom to jerk off, his face as he came thinking of me.
The minutes ticked by slowly, and I was absolutely losing my mind, thighs pressing together and hands tangled into the fabric of my skirt, bunching up the material. I made it 40 minutes before I grabbed my phone and sneaked out onto the hall.
Yoongi’s head shot up immediately, already sitting by the window waiting for something. This time I didn’t freeze up, instead I was the one who smirked at him and confidently walked up straight to the bathroom. He watched me raptly, something predatory glinting in his eyes as he leaned forward on the table. Couldn’t help but notice that today he didn’t have his laptop out, he just sat there and watched me, but I moved forward not giving it much thought.
I raised my eyebrow at him and winked right as I disappeared into the bathroom, the door falling shut behind me and sealing me inside in the calm and quietness. I rushed to the furthest stall, shutting the door behind me but not bothering to lock, too horny to think clearly.
I couldn’t believe this was getting to me so much, but the moment I managed to slide my tights low enough and ran my hand through my folds, I was already so wet it was astonishing. I laughed at myself in disbelief as my finger found my clit and circled it. Who would have thought this would become my weekly routine, jerking off in the bathroom while a guy I’ve never even talked to sat outside smirking.
But not today it turned out.
Just as pleasure began coursing through me at the ministrations, pleasured sighs leaving me freely as I got cocky not getting caught until now and the squelching of my wet pussy getting played with rang through the quiet space. Then, I heard the door open.
Immediately I froze, hand stopping but still stuck between my thighs. Slow silent footsteps made their way towards the stalls and I hoped whoever this person was, they would take care of their business quickly and leave right afterwards, but they seemed to be taking this in a really leisurely manner. I was holding my breath, counting the seconds, ears straining to catch any kind of sound coming from them.
“Don’t stop on my account, kitten,” a gruff voice suddenly piped up, the footsteps stopping right outside my stall. Relief and lust rushed through me at his appearance and I couldn’t hold back a desperate whimper, the fingers on my clit going back to work. There was a chuckle behind the door and then he was pushing it open.
I must have been a sight, underwear and tights pushed under my ass, skirt bunched up around my hips, bent over with my back arched leaning on the wall as I desperately played with myself, mouth open and eyes glazed over.
Yoongi’s eyes raked over me and he hummed lowly in appreciation. He made his way in lazily, shutting and locking the door behind him before leaning on it and just watching for a moment. I tried to put on a show for him but I was truly gone, the three weeks of built up arousal carrying me high and my body racing towards the edge in record speed.
I watched him back, watched his dark hungry eyes, his tongue peeking out to wet his upper lip, the way his hands flexed by his hips, twitching with the need to grab himself. I could see his bulge clearly, the tight black jeans barely able to contain it, and I was going crazy for it. When my eyes jumped back to Yoongi’s face, he was smirking at me knowing where I’d been staring at. What I wanted.
Suddenly he pushed himself away from the door and stepped towards me. Startled I straightened out, fingers stopping once more. He descended on me hurriedly, pushing me into the wall with his body, caging me in. Our faces were suddenly only breaths apart and Yoongi took his sweet time, teasing me by getting closer and pulling away with a laugh. I whined, my clean hand coming up to tangle in his hair and he let me, watching me from above as I writhed against him, wordlessly begging for any touch from him.
Finally, he took pity on me and with a cocky grin smashed our mouths together, immediately prying my lips open and licking inside, claiming me roughly and thoroughly. I moaned into him, body arching into his and he pressed closer, pressing me into the wall again and our bodies touched from our heads to our toes. His hand went to my neck, wrapping around it lightly and grabbing my jaw to keep me still as he kissed me with all his might.
Now with both hands I grabbed onto him, one going around his neck and one around the waist, and he broke the kiss to laugh at me quietly, turning my face with his hand so he could kiss around my ear.
“You’re such a little tease, you know that kitten?” he whispered, voice gravelly with arousal, “Coming in here every week… playing with your pussy… making yourself cum… and then coming out and giving me those eyes, cheeks still flushed from your orgasm and yet playing so coy and shy… you’re such a minx.” I tensed, eyes rolling back as he started nipping at my neck, laying wet kisses and bites all over any skin he could get to.
I didn’t even notice when Yoongi’s other hand found its way between my legs, fingers roughly pressing onto my clit. I choked on a moan, head falling back and hitting the tiled wall, hands flexing into his clothes. He bit my shoulder enough to leave a mark, chuckling at my loud keening before pressing his lips to the shell of my ear again.
“Last week I thought I would go crazy sitting there,” Yoongi continued, almost growling into my skin as his fingers twisted meanly around my sensitive nub making me tremble, “I couldn’t focus on anything, not when I knew how much you wanted to give me a show. Almost went to jerk off at least five times but I held off until you came out to repay the favour.” He chuckled again, hand tightening a little on my neck as he leaned back to look at me.
I tried to get my breathing under control but I was stuck with my mouth hanging open, noises flowing out freely as if this wasn’t a public bathroom. Yoongi didn’t seem to mind though, quite happy to watch me come undone just from a little teasing.
“It was the same for me,” I whispered, looking into his eyes and this time playing coy very much on purpose, licking my lips and batting my lashes to play it up, “Had to sit through the rest of the lecture while thinking about you in here. Was hell.” He snickered darkly, immediately catching onto my act.
He hummed, finger dragging across my lower lip, fascinated for a moment before he snapped back to himself, mouth pulling back into a smirk.
Without a warning his other hand moved lower, fingers tracing my entrance before two of them plunged inside. I moaned out, body seizing up at the sensation. I was wet enough that they went easy but there was still the pleasurable sting of being stretched out on two digits.
Yoongi certainly wasn’t the type to waste time. He hummed satisfied, watching me with those dark eyes, testing the waters with a few shallow pumps before he started finger-fucking me earnestly. Just like everything else, even now he wasn’t gentle, flicking his wrist up and pushing his fingers as far as they could go, curling them to scratch at that one magic spot that had me seeing white.
I whimpered loudly, hips gyrating to ride the motions, already feeling the stirrings of a powerful orgasm lurking on the horizon. Like a shark sensing blood Yoongi chuckled and twisted his fingers on the next thrust. I keened, hands flying up to tangle into his clothes and hair, hips jerking and chasing after the feeling.
“So selfish, kitten,” he tsked at me, still keeping his cool even though I could see his erection attempting to burst through his pants, “only thinking about your own pleasure. No respect for others, huh?”
My first instinct was to apologise, but I got choked up on the words when he started up his pace again, so instead I decided to be a woman of action. Slowly trailing my hand down his torso, feeling him up on the way, grabbing onto his chest, his slim waist, until I finally reached his crotch.
With the first touch he let out a light groan, fingers stuttering and eyes falling shut for a moment, then he was suddenly back onto me, kissing me wildly while his hips fucked into my hand, letting out gruff groans and sighs into my mouth, which I accepted gladly.
For a moment we were just lost in each other, not caring about the noise or the place, just pleasuring each other, touching, feeling. Then Yoongi was tearing away, hand flying from my pussy and stepping back. I couldn’t stop the pathetic whine that left me, and my cheeks flushed with embarrassment at his amused face.
Instead he grabbed me and turned me around until I was leaning on my arms on the wall behind the toilet, one leg up on the closed lid for support. I shivered in anticipation, knowing what would come next. Yoongi was moving about behind me, clothes shuffling and rustling. Then his sweater hit the floor. I turned my head to watch just as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a silver packet. He grinned at me and winked when catching my eye, then reached out to me, condom in hand.
“Can you hold this for me for a second, darling?” he asked as sweet as honey, but there was something devilish twinkling in his eye.
“Of course,” I answered him. I meant for it to be sassy, but it came out on a breathless whisper as I took the packet and watched Yoongi’s hand run through his hair before setting on his belt. He unbuckled slowly, attentively watching my eyes soaking in every second as he pulled the belt through the buckle and out of his pants. Fingers toyed with the button before popping it open, tongue wetting his lips and hungry eyes eating me up. I trembled under his attention but held still, not even breathing as his fingers grasped at the zipper and pulled it down.
Tired of playing, he pulled his tee out and put the hem between his teeth, revealing his taunt stomach and pretty waist. Winking at my obvious gawking, he finally pulled his jeans and underwear down, his erection springing free. The sight of him shocked me to my core, standing there with his t-shirt in his mouth and a smug glint his eye while he leisurely fisted his flushed red cock. I could feel my pussy gushing and clenching around nothing, desperately calling to be filled up.
Yoongi plucked the condom packet from my limp hand and made a quick work of putting it on. He lined up behind me, hands finding my waist to pull my tee from the skirt, making contact with bare skin.
I gasped when I felt his cock slide through my wet folds, but quickly keened and arched into it. One of Yoongi’s hands tightened on my waist while the other disappeared to grab his length.
“Easy now,” he chuckled at my trembling body, my hips chasing after his cock and trying to entice him into fucking me.
“Please,” was all I could get out of my mouth, “please Yoongi, just fuck me.” His hand tightened again and there was a beat of silence before he snickered.
“So you naughty girl do know my name,” he teased and I froze for a moment, embarrassment flooding me. I turned to him again to see him smirking at me, tee hanging off of his form. “I heard it around,” I whispered sheepishly. He hummed, raising his eyebrows at me.
“Not really fair, is it?” he teased some more, a mischievous expression taking over his face, “Is it, Y/N?” I narrowed my eyes at him jokingly and he grinned.
“Now, what’s your excuse, mister?” I asked him sassily, “Not like I’m a campus celebrity… unlike someone here.”
“May or may not have asked Jungkook cause I saw you two hanging out,” Yoongi admitted easily, laughing at me when I paled.
“God,” I groaned, “No wonder he was getting so cheeky whenever you came up in a conversation.” At that Yoongi raised his eyebrow again, amusement dancing on his features.
“That happen often?” he asked impishly, leaning against me and once again letting me feel his cock sliding through my folds. I gasped a little and blushed even darker. “You’re Namjoon’s friend, so occasionally,” I bold-faced lied straight through my teeth and from the look on Yoongi’s face, he was aware but let me get away with it.
There was a moment of silence where we just stared at each other, mischievous little smiles on our faces, and then Yoongi hummed, pulling his tee back up to his lips and biting down on it. I shuddered, the lust once again taking the fore-front seat in my mind. This time he didn’t stop for anything, grabbing himself with one hand and the other going to my waist to hold me in place.
The tip of his cock circled my entrance and I subconsciously clenched, a gush of wetness leaving me. I whined and wriggled in his hold and he tsked at me again before sliding inside in a single thrust with a light condescending giggle. I groaned, pussy immediately squeezing around the intrusion, feeling every inch and ridge. There was a hitch in Yoongi’s breaths, both hands migrating to my waist and grabbing so tightly I felt his nails digging into my skin.
He barely gave me a second before pulling out and thrusting in again, setting a rough pace from the get-go. All I could do was bury my head into the crook of my elbow, biting into the soft flesh there to keep myself from moaning loud enough for the whole school to hear.
The stretch of his cock was exquisite, the slight burn heating up my already sensitive body to a near boiling point. With every thrust there was a tiny twinge of pain that left me breathless, desperate to muffle any noise that could cut our meeting short.
Yoongi didn’t seem to care much about noise, hands on my waist mercilessly pulling me back onto his cock and fucking me with so much force I felt my whole body twitching with the overdrive of sensation, the slapping of our sweaty bodies against each other and the wet squelch of my weeping pussy getting filled to the brim loud enough to substitute for our own sounds. He was grunting gruffly, the noise seemingly leaving his mouth involuntarily and getting muffled by the tee.
I turned my head slightly to look at him, and god, he was a vision with his head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut and face the picture of ecstasy, body rippling with the motion of his pumping hips and strong veiny arms and hands gripping onto me hard enough to go red with the force. I couldn’t hold back the moan and he toppled his head forward to look at me, a tired self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips at seeing my fucked out expression.
“Take your fucking shirt off,” I gasped out breathlessly, chuckling at his teasingly narrowed eyes, “You have such a dirty fucking mouth, can’t stand for it being shut.” Yoongi laughed, throwing his head back in delight. Within seconds the piece of fabric joined his sweater on the floor and he leaned forward, hands picking on my own shirt with a mischievous expression.
“Shouldn’t you even the score?” I loved how deep and gravelly his voice became with arousal, even when he was being mischievous I could hear the growl in it and it drove me crazy. I scrambled to listen to him, tearing the shirt off and flinging it behind us. Yoongi’s hands immediately travelled up, playing with the edge of my bra before swiftly undoing the clasp and dragging it off. I gasped lightly at his skilled handiwork and giggled, but Yoongi was already preoccupied with kissing along my shoulders and shoulder blades.
His hips angled better and then jerked them into me again, cock sliding even deeper now. I groaned and arched into him and that was his que to start fucking in earnest again. In this position I could hear the strained sighs and grunts every time he slid back inside, the rough deep pace taking a toll on us both.
The back of my thighs was burning from standing bent over and straining my hips for this long and it added to the mix of feelings running through me. I could feel my orgasm catching up with me, Yoongi’s cock now hitting a spot on every thrust that made me want to scream with pleasure, sliding in so deep I swore I could feel him in my belly and it was so good my head was spinning, and all that came out of me were raspy moans. Yoongi bit into my shoulder, grunts raising in octave, hands pulling at my body to meet his thrusts.
I prayed to god that the walls were thick enough to keep the sounds from escaping onto the hall. I knew that if someone stepped inside now, there would be no masking what was going on, we were both too gone for that, just chasing our pleasure.
I was so close, the weeks of build up and the foreplay and teasing making me delirious. There in that moment I just wished I could stay like this forever, to feel this delicious ecstasy for the rest of my life, but I was so close to snapping I just needed a little extra push even though my head was so high in the clouds wishing to be never brought down.
“Please Yoongi, god,” I choked out, “please, I’m so close.” That seemed to snap Yoongi back into his attitude again, but he couldn’t hide how affected he was too.
“What do you want, kitten, mm?” even he couldn’t talk properly through the gasps and grunts, but still tried to sound as cocky as possible. Instead of talking I grabbed his hand and brought it down between my legs.
Yoongi pressed himself to me closer to make the reach more comfortable, his chest glued to my back as he nibbled on my neck and shoulder, giggling breathlessly when his naughty fingers started drawing tight quick circles on my clit.
My moans got louder, the pumping of his cock, hitting so deep inside of me, combined with the stimulation on my clit made me seize up, whole body shaking as the pleasure overtook me. Yoongi groaned every time my pussy clenched around him, drawing him deeper and closer to his own end. Both of us were so sweaty we stuck to each other, the temperature in the stall rising so high it was almost unbearable.
“Yoongi,” I gasped out, just repeating his name breathlessly as I barrelled to the climax, feeling the beginning of the tingling washing over me, pussy seizing up. Yoongi’s hands were like vice on my body, my waist littered with red indents of his nails, some already purpling slightly.
“I know, kitten,” he whispered into my neck, “Me too, you can let go.” The moment those words left his mouth my orgasm exploded over me, enough to blind me and send my ears ringing for a few moments. I let out a raspy groan, hands scrambling to find purchase on the wall and if it wasn’t for Yoongi’s hold on me, my buckling knees would have sent me crashing to the floor, but all I could focus on was the euphoria blooming through my body, flooding all my senses with so much pleasure I could barely fully register anything that was going on. Yoongi fucked me through the peak, hips losing rhythm and all decorum until finally he gave last few hard pumps and stilled too, coming with a drawn-out moan, hands pushing our hips as close together as they could go.
We clung onto each other as we attempted to catch our breaths again. I felt my arms slipping on the tiles as the pleasant ache started setting into my hips and lower tummy, legs screaming for a reprieve as my brain slowly came back into function. I blinked my eyes open, not even realising I had closed them at some point. Yoongi was basically hugging me from the behind, draped over me just breathing deep, faced smushed into my shoulder blade. Then he chuckled.
“You think we’re still in the clear?” he laughed, “How thick do you think these walls are?” A giggle tumbled out of me and before I knew it we were both laughing breathlessly, bodies still pressed close.
“This is officially the craziest thing I’ve ever done,” I told him, shaky knees trying to keep my weight as I started to gather my wits. Yoongi let me go easily and helped me find my balance as my whole body ached, back killing me after Yoongi railed me like a madman.
“And here I was, thinking this was just regular Tuesday for you.”
I slapped his shoulder lightly, but the blush on my cheeks revealed that I couldn’t really say anything to that. His amused snickers told me he was well aware, so I just stood there and watched him slip the condom off, tie it up and then just awkwardly stand there not knowing what to do with it.
“Guess I can’t just casually drop a used condom into a bin in the girl’s bathroom,” he stated nonchalantly, and I giggled at him. In the end he grabbed a bunch of toilet paper and hid it inside, putting in on the closed bin lid for the moment.
Next Yoongi swiftly cleaned himself up and pulled his jeans back on, but when I reached for the paper to do the same, he swatted my hand away. With a much gentler smile he got it himself, kneeled in front of me and started cleaning me up, gently wiping away the mess left on my centre and thighs. I watched him attentively, the soft look on his face making him look boyish, only the naughty glint in his eyes reminiscent of the man he was just a few minutes ago.
When our eyes met, I returned the smile, hand instinctively going to tangle into his hair. I meant to just card it through the dark wavy locks, but the heated look he gave me had me shuddering again, fingers tightening. Yoongi smirked, tongue licking at his lips sensually just inches away from my exposed pussy.
“Still thinking about naughty things, kitten?” he said, voice dark and deep, “Like the sight of me on my knees for you?” I hesitated for a moment before untangling my hand and gently pushing him with a blush.
“I see,” Yoongi hummed thoughtfully, “maybe next time then.” With a wink he stood up and when I didn’t move he motioned for me to start dressing up with a smirk, handing me my bra and t-shirt. We slowly clambered out of the stall, stretching and trying to get all the body parts to working order again.
“How about,” Yoongi drawled out, self-assured and with the attitude of someone who just got their rocks off, “you ditch the lecture you never really go to anyway and we grab something to eat?” I stopped in my tracks, shocked but pleasantly surprised at his offer. I checked the time quickly.
“There’s only like 10 minutes of class left, I can sit that out and then we can go,” I answered, smiling softly, but Yoongi smirked with all his might, something devilish glinting over his face. He leaned towards me, grabbing me lightly by my shoulders.
“Not looking like that, you can’t,” he whispered meanly and spun me around. The moment I laid my eyes on myself in the mirror, I gasped. Yoongi was standing behind me grinning like the devil admiring his handiwork. My neck was littered in little bites and spots ranging from dark pink across red all the way to purple. Yoongi let out a satisfied hum, almost sounding like a purr, his hands going across my waist to pull at the tee tucked into my skirt to reveal more reddish purplish bruises from his fingers.
I turned in his arms and slapped his shoulder lightly, completely flustered by his antics. “How can I walk out of here now? Everyone will know what I’d been doing instead of sitting at the lecture,” I whined, more embarrassed than angry, but Yoongi’s laughing face was totally free of any remorse, “I look like someone beat me up.”
The man said nothing, just pulled me closer to kiss me gently. I looked at him with wide eyes for a moment before I whined again: “I don’t even have a scarf with me today.” He burst out laughing and patted my hip softly.
“I’ll get your stuff, you wait here,” he whispered conspiratorially and with one last wink he was gone. It took him only three minutes to stick his head back into the bathroom, looking a little ruffled and a lot amused.
“I suggest we get going fast, I’m afraid a guy leaving the ladies restroom isn’t as inconspicuous as I wished it was,” he got out quickly, smirking impishly and handing me my coat. I tried to wear it in a way that covered most of the marks, but it was futile, more than half of my neck still on full display.
I walked out of the bathroom the same moment the door to my classroom opened and students started filing out. Yoongi exchanged a single glance with me before we both took off, running down the stairs like we were being chased, only stopping once the building doors slammed shut behind us.
“Jimin’s café?” Yoongi asked breathlessly, still trying to get his strength back and leaning on his knees. I grinned at him and grabbed his hand, already pulling him in the right direction.
“Sure, let’s go!”
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Bonus:
“Holy shit! The fuck happened to you?” Jimin exclaimed loudly enough for the whole café to hear the moment he saw me walk through the door. Jungkook and Tae, who were sitting at a small table near the counter to keep Jimin company while he had his shift, turned to look at me only for Kookie to promptly spit out whatever he was drinking.
“Holy shit!” I gave him an unimpressed look and walked up to Jimin to order.
“A little dramatic, don’t you think?” I side-eyed him sassily, but Jungkook was grinning mischievously, a knowing glint in his eye. I flushed under his gaze and looked away at which he started laughing loudly.
“Oh my god! I can’t believe you actually did it,” he giggled, properly entertained by the situation and by my embarrassment. Tae was watching it all unfold, confused look on his face.
“Did what?” Jimin asked, similarly confused.
As if on cue the door opened again and Yoongi stepped in, ignoring everyone currently staring at him and walking straight to me, arm curling around my waist to pull me closer to him. He bent down slightly to whisper in my ear: “Got rid of the evidence successfully.”
“Holy shit!” This time it was Tae who screamed, coming full circle. I gave their smug smiling faces an annoyed glare and turned to Jimin to order again, but he was trying to conceal his grin behind his hand. Even more vexed I turned to Yoongi who was smirking smugly like a cat who got all the cream, hand possessively squeezing at my bruised waist.
“On second thoughts, we shouldn’t have come here,” I said to no one in particular, then turning my narrowed eyes at the man of the hour himself, “and wipe that smirk off your face, mister.” There were giggles from the boys all around us, but Yoongi just swooped down and kissed me softly, then pushed us closer towards the counter.
Jimin cleared his throat and tried to put on a professional expression, but there was mirth in his eyes that I just knew I was going to get all the teasing later. Tae and Kookie cleared out the mess at the table and made space for us to sit down, one looking more amused than the other.
I gave them both the stink eye and ignored them, checking my phone instead, trying to reply to all the messages I’ve missed in the last hour. Around me there was silence, everyone just sitting there looking at each other grinning, before Jungkook cleaned his throat and exclaimed:
“God, fucking finally! Thought Yoongi-hyung was gonna talk my ear off about you!”
“Kookie!” There was a pretty blush spreading on Yoongi’s cheeks, a polar opposite to the cocksure man that was railing my brains out 20 minutes ago. I giggled and squeezed his arm. He gave in easily, leaning towards me.
Then he set his eyes on Jungkook and narrowed them teasingly. “We’re gonna settle that later you brat.”
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evangelical04 · 2 days
Text
A Single Daffodil || 3
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Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader
Rating: 18+ minors DNI
Word Count: 11.9K
Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi
Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut, body image issues
Author's Note: is this being posted over a week late? yes but I'm in the middle of exams at the moment eek! on the bright side, I'll be able to work on this more often after this week since most of my exams will be done! and then I have about a month until my job starts so I'm planning to grind!! all that aside, we get to see them get married here, so exciting!! yoongi seems to be having second thoughts hmmm interesting. let me know what you guys think! i love to hear your feedback <33
Taglist:
@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandylovejk @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling @themwordsblog @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @kimmalik @honeyypages @captainchrisstan @khaimahfe @yoongibaybee
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You nervously smoothed out the skirt of your dress in an effort to calm your nerves but found little success. The day of the rehearsal had come and in less than twenty-four hours, you were to be married. Your hands shook as you grasped the door handle of the entrance to the banquet hall. Hoseok laid a comforting hand on your shoulder before shooting you a reassuring smile. He had decided to attend the rehearsal at your insistence, citing seeing Joohee again as the reason, though you knew he could tell how worried you were. 
Mustering a small smile in response, you pushed open the door to see the ceremony space set up with nauseatingly bright flowers and ornate, crystal-laden light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. The chairs were decorated in satin sashes with gold embroidery and the altar was woven around with glittering flowers. Your mother was standing at the edge of the aisle, speaking to the catering service employee. She was dressed impeccably as always, her commanding presence demanding that you look at and respect her. Your father was sitting in one of the satin chairs, scrolling dully on his phone. Your mother noticed you standing by the door and quickly beckoned you over. 
As you approached, Hoseok following close behind, you noticed something at the end of the room. Standing at the end of the aisle was Yoongi, clad in the normal black suit you’d seen him in thus far, with his tie loosened and hair ruffled. He was speaking to his mother, who was adjusting his blazer, and his father, who stood off to the side, distantly nodding along. He had yet to notice your arrival, but you were fully enraptured by him. This was what you had been dreaming of since you’d met Yoongi outside that party so long ago, walking down the aisle to see him at the other end, promising your lives to each other in an act of fierce and nurtured love. But that wasn’t what was happening. Hoseok’s grip on your shoulder grounded you as you approached your mother. You could feel his arm laying across your shoulder blades and hanging loosely, but comfortingly, in an effort to brace you for your mother. 
“Nice to see you finally made it. You must’ve been in a rush if you only had time to choose that outfit,” your mother stated, not bothering to properly greet you or acknowledge Hoseok. She knew who he was and she didn’t approve of your close relationship with him, but she knew that she couldn’t say anything out loud lest her image be tainted, which is what you were banking on. 
Feeling Hoseok’s grip tighten at your mother’s careless words, you tried to subtly placate him, “Hello, mother. I’m sorry I’m late. Will we be starting soon?” Your mother only nodded curtly before turning away to speak to more of the venue employees. You let out a heavy breath before sitting down at one of the nearby chairs, not making an effort to try and greet your father. It’s not like he’d acknowledge you anyway. 
“God damn, you need therapy,” Hoseok whistled lowly. 
You let out a tired laugh, pulling him down to sit next to you, “Yeah, but we knew that already. Are you sure you’re up to face these guys? It can be a lot.”
Hoseok nodded, smiling kindly at you, before squeezing the hand you pulled him down with, “Of course, I am. I said I was here for you and I meant it.”
You grinned, having missed his fervent support and soothing touch, “Thanks, Hobi. You’re the best.” Hoseok only gave you another squeeze in response. 
“Wow, I’m offended,” came a voice from behind you, “I thought I was the best.”
You and Hoseok turned to find Joohee in a simple dress, hands resting on her hips. Smiling up at her, you nodded, “You know you’re in a league of your own. Hobi can’t even compare.” 
Hoseok scoffed incredulously, “You’re so fickle, how could you call yourself my friend.”
Sticking your tongue out at him, you leaned back in your chair with Joohee joining, sitting on your other side. Your eyes drifted back to Yoongi, and you startled, finding him looking right back at you. He casually shifted his gaze back to his mother, who was still speaking to him, not sparing you another glance. 
“So, that’s him?”
You turned towards Hoseok, whose gaze was pointed at Yoongi’s form. You nodded, “Yeah, that’s him. My…fiance.”
Hoseok studied your sullen form for a moment before grabbing your shoulders and giving you a friendly squeeze, “At least he’s hot!”
Joohee and you laughed at his antics before hearing the large, wooden doors to the entrance open once more. A group of handsome men entered, about four, only one of whom you recognized as Joohee’s older brother. The group approached, laughing together while walking towards Yoongi. Joohee stood, shouting Seokjin’s name, calling him over to your small group. Kim Seokjin smiled at the sight of his sister before breaking off from the group, one of the men following after, while the others continued to Yoongi. 
“Hey, Joo, how’s it going,” Seokjin smiled easily, ruffling his sister’s hair. She swatted at him before answering, “Good, but mom’s been on my case lately to come home.”
You looked on in envy, wishing you had a similar, friendly relationship with your own brother. Kyungsoo was nice enough to you, when he cared to acknowledge you. He had been primed by your parents to take over their company since he was young, but they’d made sure that the two of you had stayed competitive academically. Even though you were younger, you tended to do better in your studies, something your parents never let Kyungsoo forget. As a result, he’d grown extremely distant with you and you rarely spoke now. Actually, you weren’t even sure if he was coming to the wedding. 
“There’s the bride-to-be! How are you feeling,” Seokjin’s voice boomed, snapping you out of your daze. 
You smiled politely at him, “Hi, Jin oppa, it’s nice to see you. I’m feeling alright, as well as I can.”
Seokjin nodded sympathetically, “I know Yoongi hasn’t been the best, but give him some time to adjust. If he’s still an ass after that, let me know and I’ll beat him up.”
You laughed as he puffed out his chest and raised an arm to display his muscles. Joohee rolled her eyes before punching him lightly in his side, “Oppa, no one wants to see that. Here, let me introduce you to Hobi.”
Hoseok stood to greet the older man, no longer obstructing your view of the other man who had followed Seokjin out of the group earlier. He was quite tall, though not as tall as Seokjin, and well built, with tattoos flowing down his hands, curling around the small wrinkles of his fingers. His shaggy black hair framed a boyish face that wore a polite smile. Why did he seem so familiar?
“Jeon Jeongguk,” you blurted out, almost stumbling to stand and confirm your suspicions. He turned to face you, with you now realizing that it was, in fact, the same streamer you’d been following for the past few years. You hadn’t recognized him immediately without his usual garb of sweatshirts, headphones, and piercings littering his face. 
“Hi, you’re Seo Y/N, I assume,” he smiled, eyes crinkling. Feeling slightly starstruck, you nodded dumbly. 
“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, Kook, she’s a big fan of yours. She watches your streams all the time,” Joohee interjected. Your gaze shot towards her, sending her a silent message. 
You know him? And you didn’t tell me? 
Joohee only shrugged sheepishly, Sorry, must’ve slipped my mind.
You gritted your teeth, I’m so interrogating you later.
Jeongguk’s voice called you back to him, “Really? That’s cool, I always love meeting fans.”
Feeling your cheeks redden, you stumbled slightly over your words, “Yeah! I love all your videos, you got me into a couple of new games I didn’t think I’d ever enjoy,” you finished, laughing awkwardly. 
Jeongguk took it in stride, bashfully scratching the back of his head, “Thanks, I appreciate that. So you’re into a lot of games, yourself?”
Seeing an opportunity, you relaxed, feeling yourself brighten at the chance to talk about your favorite subject, “Yeah! I actually work for O.K. Gaming in their planning team. I’m not really into MMOs, but I like a lot of RPGs and platformers, my favorite right now is actually this indie one from the U.S. that’s been out for a couple of years, Celeste, it got put on the switch but I played it on my PC. But I’ve been branching out, thanks to you! Watching you play all the old Zelda games made me want to get into it too, but I ended up starting with Breath of the Wild because it looked so pretty, the graphics are just amazing! So are the mechanics, I was really impressed with how-”
“Woah, there,” you heard Hoseok, laying a hand on the small of your back, “You’re gonna scare him away.”
You laughed awkwardly, noticing the shocked expression that painted Jeongguk’s face, “Sorry, I tend to get over-excited when it comes to that stuff.”
Jeongguk seemed to snap back into the conversation, shaking his head wildly with a large grin, “No, that’s great! It’s been a while since I’ve been able to geek out with someone. We should totally hang out, what’s your number?”
You felt yourself slip back into a comfortable smile before taking Jeongguk’s phone to put your number in while he excitedly mentioned the games he was thinking of streaming next. Handing his phone back, he glanced at it before looking back up at you, “Hey, is it okay for me to call you noona? I do the same with Joohee noona.”
Slightly surprised at his forwardness, you nodded, “Yeah, that’d be nice. I don’t think I’ll call you Kook though.”
He laughed brightly, “We’ll work our way up to that.”
One of the other groomsmen called both Seokjin and Jeongguk back to the altar, leaving you to bask in the feeling of having met one of your favorite content creators and becoming friends with him, ignoring Hoseok’s quiet teasing at your geeking out. The bliss didn’t last long though as you heard your mother clap her hands and ask everyone to sit near the front. Hoseok’s hand slipped into your own, giving it a gentle squeeze, along with an encouraging smile, before letting you and Joohee join the others at the front. You’d wished that you could put Hoseok in your wedding party, but you knew your mother would never allow it. You were grateful already that he’d come to the rehearsal despite not being able to do anything the entire time. 
You and Joohee took your seats at the front, sitting next to some other young women you recognized from your mother’s galas, likely the rest of your bridesmaids. Your mother had been kind enough to let you choose Joohee as your maid of honor, but you knew she’d only allowed it because Joohee’s family was high up enough according to her standards. 
Your mother positioned herself at the altar, addressing everyone with a confident tone, “Now that everyone’s present, I’ll let Mrs. Shin go through the itinerary for today.” Your mother then stepped aside, joining your father on your family’s side of the aisle.
A small, stout woman with her hair in a tight bun and a string of pearls adorning her neck took the stand, “Hello, I’m Shin Miyeon, the wedding planner for this event. For today, we’ll start with a rehearsal of the entrances and ceremony, which will be followed by the entrances for the reception and a run-through of the timings for the dances tomorrow. We’ll end with a joint dinner, and then we’ll be done. Let’s get started.”
Mrs. Shin immediately started directing people, the bridal party being the first, and pairing them up by height to walk together. Joohee was quickly whisked away, leaving you shaking nervously, as this was all beginning to feel a bit too real. The thought was suddenly occurring to you that you really were going to be marrying Yoongi and he absolutely did not want it to happen. Sinking further into your seat, you sent an encouraging, but wavering, smile to Joohee who was paired with her brother due to their similar heights. Your eyes drifted towards Yoongi, who was sitting calmly on the other side of the aisle, swiping through his phone with an unimpressed expression. How could he be so nonchalant about all this?
“Mr. Min, Ms. Seo, please join me at the entrance,” Mrs. Shin’s voice called out, making you raise your head in her direction. You felt your heart rate speed up and your hands clench, you weren’t ready for this. Your vision almost seemed to cloud as it felt like a hand was closing in around your throat, and your breath started to stutter. You absolutely were not ready for this. Your life was about to change, arguably for the worse, and you had to spend it with someone who wouldn’t even acknowledge you. You could distantly hear Mrs. Shin calling your name once more but it felt like you couldn’t move, your body didn’t feel like your own. Gaze lowering to the ground, it seemed like spots were taking over your vision. Your breath continued to quicken and you could feel yourself beginning to fully lose control of your breathing.
This can’t be happening.
You needed to get ahold of yourself, there were people all around you, not to mention your mother and Yoongi. But no matter how hard you tried to ground yourself, the control you had over your body kept slipping away, and it only caused you to freak out further. A pair of smart, black dress shoes came into your view and you lifted your head to see Yoongi looking down at you with a raised eyebrow through your blurry vision. 
“Are you coming?”
You forced yourself to hold your breath, letting it out slowly after counting for a few seconds, before nodding and standing on wobbly legs. You didn’t have time to break down, you had a job to do. 
Following Yoongi and Mrs. Shin to the entrance doors, you pointedly avoided eye contact with your mother while sending shaky smiles to Joohee and Hoseok. You had to get a grip. 
“Alright, let’s go through the order we’ll be going down the aisle. Can the rest of the wedding party please come down here?”
You were squished up against the door with Yoongi at your side as the wedding party took their places to arrive at the altar before you. Setting your eyes straightforward, you resisted any temptation to glance at Yoongi to see his expression. You couldn’t face him after he’d witnessed you almost experience a full-on panic attack. Focusing in on Mrs. Shin’s firm tone was an easy distraction, as you watched her guide your wedding party down the aisle and to the altar. Slowly but surely, she made her way to you and your groom, with Yoongi being directed first.
“You’ll walk before Ms. Seo and take your place next to Mr. Kim at the stand,” Mrs. Shin said, guiding Yoongi toward the other end of the room. You watched as he gracefully strode down the aisle, casually stopping next to Seokjin and turning to face your direction. The action made you pause, almost breathlessly, as your gaze connected. However, his eyes didn’t last long on your form, as they slid over to Seokjin and Yoongi began conversing with him. 
You couldn’t help the disappointed feeling in your chest, despite knowing full well you had no right to suffer it. Yoongi wasn’t yours, he would never be, something he had made quite clear in your limited interactions. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel a tugging in your stomach, a pain in your forefinger, at his blatant dismissal of you. Biting your lip, you cursed inwardly, now was not the time to fall even deeper for your husband-to-be. 
“Ms. Seo, please follow me. You can hold this in place of your bouquet,” Mrs. Shin said, handing you a nondescript water bottle. A quick glance at Hoseok’s form turned to face you had you confirming that he was making fun of you as you had suspected. You brushed off his giggles and stepped in what you hoped was an elegant manner after Mrs. Shin, following her down the aisle. 
You deliberately avoided looking at Yoongi’s face, knowing that he wouldn’t be watching you. Did you want him to? 
Yes.
You almost scoffed. What a ridiculous notion. What you were in need of was a good, old reality check, not playing into the fantasy of marrying Yoongi for love. As you passed Hoseok, he whistled wolfishly, earning a disapproving frown from your mother. It was exactly what you needed though, pulling a laugh out of you before discreetly flipping him off from behind the water bottle. You felt the tension leave your body at Hoseok’s familiar antics, finally feeling relaxed for the first time that night. Maybe you could do this, after all.
Reaching the altar, Mrs. Shin proceeded to give minor notes to the rest of your wedding party as you stood awkwardly next to Yoongi. You could hear his soft breaths as he waited patiently for Mrs. Shin to address you both, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at or try to start a conversation with him. Yoongi seemed to be doing the same, keeping his eyes forward and occasionally glancing at his watch. 
You felt lonely. You were standing next to the person who was going to be your partner for the rest of your life and yet, you felt a deep and painful distance from him. You could feel his warmth, hear him shuffling beside you, but you deliberately shied away from brushing elbows to solidify the separation between you. Yoongi seemed so calm and indifferent, it made you feel a troubling combination of envy and anger. 
Why couldn’t you be as blase as him about this? Why was he so apathetic in the first place? Didn’t he care about you at all? Was he judging you for not being aloof yourself? Why didn’t he want to engage with you at all?
It hurt, to say the least, but the rational part of you annoyingly came to his defense. Realistically, you knew he had no obligation to try and converse with, or even care about, you. So why were you still so hurt?
“Mr. Min, Ms. Seo, please join me at the doors. We’ll run through it again.”
Mrs. Shin’s voice put a halt to your spiraling thoughts, making you register Yoongi turning around beside you. Following suit, you joined behind him, taking a glance at your watch. Only about thirty or so minutes had passed.
You sighed, this was really going to be a test of your endurance. 
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The cushioned chair felt welcoming, even though your company did not evoke the same feeling. Your mother was sitting across from you and her cold stare made you shrivel into your seat. Hoseok was placed on the far end of the table with Joohee, making them achingly far from you. Yoongi was next to you in a performance pretending this was a willing marriage. Not that the restaurant staff would care. 
You scowled internally, lamenting the fact that you couldn’t even eat dinner comfortably. Your mother was sending you cursory glances while talking to Yoongi’s mother, and your dad was talking business with Yoongi’s father, and with Yoongi conversing with Seokjin, you were painfully lonely. You resorted to quietly playing with the napkin in your lap and staring at your empty plate and wine glass in front of you, desperately wishing you could drink to make the dinner easier but you knew your mother wouldn’t approve. 
“Y/N noona?”
You looked up, making eye contact with Jeongguk, who was sitting next to you, previously talking to another groomsman with stunning dimples next to him. 
“Oh, yes,” you responded, straightening in your chair. 
“I wanted to talk to you some more about the games you mentioned earlier since we didn’t get to finish,” he responded, a bright, bunny smile decorating his face. 
You felt yourself smile warmly in response automatically, his joy and bubbliness seemed to be contagious, “Yeah, I’d love to. What would you like to know?”
The conversation with Jeongguk proved to be your oasis in the desert of the stale and stiff conversations happening around you, especially between your parents. His encouraging smile put you at ease and made the tension flow out from your fingers. You were grateful that he was so engaging, keeping you distracted from the shifting from the aloof and dominating presence you felt beside you. 
Yoongi had remained relatively quiet throughout the whole evening, only having spoken to you when you were on the verge of breaking down. He spoke quietly to his friends, not bothering to introduce you to them, and had barely looked in your direction. Part of you couldn’t deny it upsetting you, but you constantly reminded yourself that this was to be expected. 
The both of you had made no commitment to each other outside of appearing as a couple when it mattered, he had no obligation to be friendly towards you. It felt like your mind was going in circles continually trying to keep your emotions in check and avoid crossing the boundaries Yoongi had so clearly laid out. 
The thought entered your mind once again, Is this what the rest of your life is going to be like? 
It certainly felt that way. 
You felt Yoongi shift beside you once again, making you flinch. Thankfully, Jeongguk didn’t seem to notice, too engrossed in describing his most recent gaming obsession with you. You felt hyper-aware of Yoongi’s presence, whether he was right beside you or at the other end of the room. It bothered you how much he affected you, but you almost enjoyed it at the same time.
There was something pleasant about the feeling of falling in love with someone, regardless of whether it was a tragic infatuation or not. The rush of your heartbeat whenever you caught a glimpse of him, the way your breath hitched when you accidentally brushed shoulders, the way your fingers itched to grasp his hand, it all felt so romantic in a way. 
Where it all came crashing down was the reality that Yoongi didn’t feel a semblance of the same way. Your spiked heartbeat was met with his indifferent exterior, your hitched breath with his calm and even exhales, and your twitching fingers with his clenched fist. It was detrimental, damaging even, and it was taking a toll on, not only your emotional wellbeing but your self-confidence as well. You were so swiftly rejected by him that it was a blow to your self-esteem. You hadn’t felt particularly great about yourself prior to his crushing dismissal, but you had certainly been in a downward spiral since then. 
Too often now you were scrutinizing your appearance in the mirror, choosing baggier clothing while hating the silhouette, and catching yourself while speaking. It wasn’t logical or warranted, but that didn’t stop your overactive mind from whispering your insecurities quietly every day. Maybe Hoseok had a point. You really needed to look into therapy.
“Noona?”
“Oh, sorry, I was just zoning out,” you blinked, tuning back into Jeongguk’s honey-sweet voice. 
He smiled sympathetically, something you seemed to be on the receiving end of a lot lately, “That’s okay. Are you feeling alright?”
“I’m alright,” you nodded, not wanting to divulge the cacophony of thoughts swimming around in your head, “Please, continue with what you were saying.”
Jeongguk’s energizing smile made a reappearance, making you relax further into your chair. You let his dulcet voice lull you into a comfortable conversation for the rest of the dinner, trying not to react whenever you felt movement beside you. 
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“Thank you all for coming, we appreciate your being here. We’ll be meeting at the venue tomorrow at nine, so please be sure to be on time,” your mother concluded, your group standing outside the restaurant. With that, the crowd slowly dispersed, your parents speaking to Yoongi’s at their cars and the bridal parties filing out into respective vehicles as well. You leaned back into Hoseok’s firm torso, letting his arm encircle your waist and his chin rest on your shoulder. 
You didn’t often let people touch you, but Hoseok was a rare exception, having broken your barriers down in college, and served as a comforting touch whenever you needed it. It evolved into more casual affection, a similar version being displayed between Hoseok and Joohee, and you accepted it as just part of his personality. You knew how it looked to people around you but you simply didn’t care, Hoseok was a good friend, and you’d be damned if you were going to refuse the little human contact you allowed. 
Joohee was talking animatedly to Hoseok about something or other, you weren’t really paying attention. Hoseok’s warmth soothed you, making your eyelids fall in the exhaustion from the day’s events. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught your mother frowning at you, but you paid no mind. For the first time since the announcement, you wondered if she’d finally leave you to your own devices now that you were doing the ultimate show of subservience to her. 
Kim Seokjin’s booming voice startled you from Hoseok’s grasp, making him switch to leaning against your car door. You spotted Seokjin’s tall figure making his way over to you, the other groomsmen following behind. Yoongi was also tailing Seokjin, making you stand up straighter and try to steel your expression. 
“Joo, Y/N, we’re gonna go for some drinks to celebrate Yoongi’s bachelordom ending, want to join? You’re welcome too, of course, Hobi,” Seokjin smiled kindly. You almost flinched at the mention of Yoongi’s bachelor lifestyle ending, apparently, he hadn’t told his friends about the rules he’d set. 
Joohee’s face hardened towards Yoongi, apparently realizing the same thing you did, before turning sickeningly sweet towards her brother, “No thanks, oppa. We’re gonna head back to Y/N’s.”
“Oh, c’mon, noona,” Jeongguk looked at you imploringly, eyes shining, “It’ll be fun! We can hang out more!”
You smiled apologetically as you felt Hoseok wrap a protective arm around you, noting that he was probably on the same page as Joohee, “Sorry Jeongguk, maybe next time.”
Jeongguk shrugged, turning to the other groomsmen, the dimpled man with tan skin and a model-esque-looking man with dark eyebrows and lighter hair. Seokjin furrowed his eyebrow slightly, mouth upturning into a small frown, “Well, okay, but I’ll be taking you out to celebrate at some point, Y/N. Mark the date!”
You laughed quietly, waving him off with an acquiescing nod. The men filed back towards their respective cars, heading to bars or someone’s house, you assumed. You began turning further into Hoseok to face your car before realizing that Yoongi was still standing there. 
Pausing, you looked at him questioningly, feeling Hoseok’s grip tighten. Yoongi’s dark eyes narrowed at your intertwined forms. 
“Do you need something, Yoongi-ssi,” Joohee asked in a clipped tone. You almost cringed at the blatant contempt. 
“No,” Yoongi responded quietly, “I don’t. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” He nodded politely in your direction before turning to walk back to his car, pausing for a last glance at your bemused face. 
“What was that,” Joohee scoffed, flipping off Yoongi’s silhouette. 
You shrugged, not knowing what to make of it either, “C’mon, let’s just go home. I need to get drunk.”
Joohee entered your car and you were just about to follow before Hoseok pulled you back, making you almost stop in your tracks.
“Y/N,” he sighed, looking into your eyes, “Are you really okay?”
You pulled your hand out of his, tired of being treated in such a fragile manner, “Yes, I’m fine. As good as I can be. I just want to go home.” You felt bad for snapping, but you were irritable after a long day and you wanted to get out of your dress and wipe off your makeup. You turned back towards the car before Hoseok spoke again.
“I know,” Hoseok said softly, “But there’s something off about him. I can’t place it. It was the way he looked at you, especially when I was hugging you.”
You twisted your head in his direction quickly, “Stop. Seriously, Hoseok, I really don’t need to be thinking about that. The last thing I need for this stupid infatuation is to think that there’s something there when there isn’t. I don’t need you putting those kinds of thoughts into my brain.”
Hoseok recoiled before scratching the back of his head and shooting you an apologetic glance, “You’re right, sorry. Let’s just go home, yeah?”
You both entered the car, Joohee leaning forward from the backseat to glance at the both of you.
“Is everything cool with you guys,” she questioned, likely having witnessed the scene outside the car. 
“Yeah, just fine,” you said bluntly, gripping the steering wheel. What were you doing? Hoseok was just expressing concern. You didn’t have a right to get so worked up and take out your anger on him.
Sighing, you let yourself relax into your cushioned car seat, turning towards Hoseok who was in the passenger seat, “Sorry, Hobi. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that. I’m sorry.”
“It’s totally fine,” Hoseok smiled comfortingly, “Don’t even worry about it. I know how stressed you’ve been.”
“No,” you protested, “That isn’t an excuse. You were just looking out for me.”
Hoseok laughed jovially, “Hey, it’s fine, I promise. If anything, I’m glad to see you letting out some emotion, I was beginning to get worried that you didn’t get angry anymore.”
“Oh, she can get angry, alright,” Joohee mused from the backseat, “You’re just not around to see it anymore.”
You laughed, feeling relief at Hoseok’s easy acceptance of your apology. You started up your car, pulling out into the street. 
“Let’s go get shitfaced in your living room,” Joohee cheered from behind you, Hoseok laughing along loudly. 
A smile formed on your face, making you chuckle at Joohee’s exclamations. You were lucky, luckier than you thought initially. Even with everything going on, you felt your heart fill at your friends’ gracious and kind attitudes toward you. You continued driving to your apartment, feeling a touch more confident about your ability to get through tomorrow relatively unscathed. 
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Your dress felt constricting, but not in a way that a seamstress could fix. Despite your unfounded confidence the night before, standing behind the closed doors of the aisle sent a fresh wave of anxiety through your veins. 
How were you going to get through this? Yoongi was waiting on the other side, at the end of the aisle, about to become your partner for life. Except, you weren’t going to be his partner in the same way. 
Initially, Yoongi was supposed to walk down with you, your entourage partnered up like you’d practiced at the beginning of yesterday. But Mrs. Shin didn’t like the visual, making her change it to a more traditional style ceremony. Go figure that she wouldn’t think the sight of you and Yoongi walking together 
A sick nausea curled in your stomach, making you clench the audacious bouquet, letting a few petals fall to the floor. You felt a hand clasp your shoulder, making you turn, seeing Joohee’s concerned frown. 
“Hey, it’ll be okay, I’ll be right there. You can do this,” she squeezed your shoulder. 
“Yeah, yeah, I can do this,” you repeated, attempting to calm your nerves. A small voice in the back of your mind whispered, wondering if Yoongi had the same nerves. 
The thought almost made you scoff, there was no way. Nothing much in his life was changing other than getting a roommate he had to take to galas. 
You knew that wasn’t a fair sentiment. Yoongi was as negatively affected by this arrangement as you were, he was just taking a more emotionally removed approach. Maybe you should learn from that. 
Mrs. Shin appeared next to you in a flurry, “We’re about to open the doors. Are you ready?”
You nodded stiffly, knowing the answer was that you’d never be ready to marry Min Yoongi. 
Hearing the muffled piano begin to play, signaling the start to your bridal party’s entrance, you released a heavy breath, trying to paint on a passive exterior. Joohee whispered some small last bits of encouragement your way before taking her place in front of you. 
The doors slowly opened, letting your bridesmaids walk down before you. You could feel your hands trembling.
Hidden from the audience’s eyes beside the door, Mrs. Shin gestured at you, mouthing that you were up next. 
Taking a moment to close your eyes, you steeled your nerves and took a step forward. You could do this. It was just a walk, that’s all it was. 
You repeated the mantra in your head as you took more and more steps down the aisle, focusing your gaze on the ornate carvings above the altar. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed your mother gesturing for you to smile, and you responded automatically, letting a small smile adorn your mouth. It felt hollow, but that wasn’t what mattered. 
As you approached the altar, your gaze naturally shifted down to Yoongi, who was poised in a statuesque manner. He looked radiant, the black suit fitted perfectly to his chest and tapered at his waist. His charcoal hair was styled, showing his forehead, displaying his clear, smooth skin. His hands were clasped in front of him, your eyes tracing the outlines of his fingers, and his aura exuded confidence. You purposefully kept your gaze away from his face, not wanting to see the expression that he wore. 
Reaching the steps up to the altar, you carefully climbed each one, making sure not to trip over the hem of your dress. You took your place next to Yoongi, feeling him turn to face the officiant. As the officiant began speaking, you felt yourself breathe out slowly, trying to recover from the initial stress. You had the first step done, the rest wouldn’t be so hard. 
Thankfully, you could zone out for most of the ceremony, with the officiant droning on in your ear. Most of this was for show anyway, you didn’t really need to seem present. It was lucky that you were facing away from your audience, allowing your eyes to glaze over and subtly stifle yawns. 
You barely processed Yoongi’s presence throughout the ceremony, trying not to glance in his direction. He hadn’t really acknowledged you, but it didn’t surprise you. In a way, it almost pained you that you were getting used to his apathy this quickly. 
Another blessing came in the form that you didn’t have to recite vows. The attendees of the weddings had seen far too many arranged marriages to sit through another cycle of canned and rehearsed vows. It felt especially lucky to you as well in that you wouldn’t have to look into Yoongi’s eyes as you declared your devotion to him. 
The ceremony itself quickly came to an end, and you were forced to turn to Yoongi, making eye contact accidentally for the first time that day. It sent a rush of heat to bloom in the apples of your cheeks and the pace of your heart quickened. It felt pathetic, really, to let him have that effect on you. 
You extended your hand as Yoongi gently took it, sliding the cold metal of the ring onto your finger. Your hands felt numb from staying in place so long during the officiant’s speech, but Yoongi’s warm touch sparked new life in them, making them tremble in his grasp. 
Letting out a shaky exhale, you took Yoongi’s hand in your own, noting the smooth planes of his palm and long digits. You internally cringed at your quivering fingers as you slid Yoongi’s own obsidian wedding band onto his finger. Letting go as soon as you were done, you let your hands fall back down to your sides. You pointedly avoided any eye contact with Yoongi, knowing what was next. 
“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
It felt like the air was sucked from your lungs. You knew this was coming yet it still scared you. You weren’t so much afraid of the kiss, you’d kissed plenty of people, but you were afraid of what it would ignite in you. 
Yoongi left you no room to hesitate as he grasped your cheeks and gently tugged you toward him, almost making you stumble. Your eyes widened as he leaned it, his own closed. Reflexively, you almost pulled away. 
“Relax,” you heard him whisper, too quiet for even the officiant to hear, the warm breath from his words gently caressing your mouth. But you couldn’t stop shaking. You clenched your eyes shut as he leaned in closer before feeling the skin of his thumb covering your lips. His thumb pressed against your lip for just a second before he pulled back entirely, dropping his hands back down to his sides. 
You hovered, unsure of what just happened. Did he cover your mouth for the kiss? You weren’t sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, you were admittedly relieved, not wanting your first kiss with Yoongi to be under these circumstances of obligation, and it certainly spoke to his respect for your own consent. Even though you were sure there wouldn’t be any more chances for a kiss anyway.
But a more sinister and greedy part of you wished he hadn’t shielded you, craved the soft touch of his lips against your own. You, ashamedly, wanted to share a romantic moment with him, even if it was a guise for a happy marriage. Just feeling his slightly calloused fingers grazing your cheeks was enough to leave you wanting more. 
Applause startled you out of your trance, making you turn towards the audience and plaster a smile on your face. Scanning the crowd, you spotted Hoseok clapping, sending you an encouraging smile. You breathed out, feeling minutely comforted by his sweet smile. 
Yoongi took your hand, holding it, as you began walking down the aisle. You’d practiced this yesterday, so your body was almost numb to the situation of his thumb rubbing against your forefinger. 
Almost.
A nasty thought slithered its way into the forefront of your mind.
That was the same thumb that he covered the kiss with.
As you walked down the narrow pathway, making sure to smile at the sea of guests your mother had invited, you could feel your gaze growing hazier. This was all getting to be a bit overwhelming. Your feet were hurting in the heels your mother had made you wear, the jacquard of the dress was starting to dig into your skin at the bust, the hairpins lining your hair were hurting your scalp, and the scent of Yoongi’s cologne was intoxicating. 
You and Yoongi reached the end of the aisle, walking past the doors and letting them close behind, leaving the both of you a few minutes to catch your breath before you were whisked away from the reception. Yoongi quickly separated from you, taking a water bottle from an attendant and downing almost half of it. Your hand felt cold suddenly. 
Another employee offered a water bottle to you as well, and you gratefully accepted, taking a swig immediately. The cool liquid soothed your scratchy throat, feeling it go down with it being the only thing you’d had today by way of food. The attendants then gestured for you to follow them into separate changing rooms, preparing hanboks that your parents had wanted you to wear during the reception. 
Letting the attendant dress you in the hanbok gave you time to process what had just happened. You were now married to Yoongi. You had filled out the paperwork about a week prior, but the bells and whistles of the ceremony made it feel much more real. Sighing, you took solace in the fact that the hardest bit was done. 
But was it really?
Now, you had to sit through a reception, thanking guests for coming and pretending like Yoongi actually liked you. Exchanging recycled pleasantries and fake smiles with your parents’ social circle and business partners was less than appealing. 
The employee quietly told you that she was finished and moved aside to let you look in the mirror. 
You tried to be happy about how pretty you looked, but all you could see were your bloodshot eyes and the slightly cakey makeup trying to hide your eye bags. At least the hanbok wasn’t as tight as your dress. 
Exiting the dressing room, you caught sight of Yoongi in his dark blue hanbok with white pants. He looked striking, as always, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be starstruck at this point in the day. You just wanted to go home and lie down. You were led to the reception hall where guests were already mingling for cocktail hour while the food was being prepped to be served. 
A man whose name you didn’t know announced your arrival and the guests turned in your direction and began to clap. Yoongi grabbed your hand in his once more, the suddenness of the action making you flinch. You entered the hall, smiling and greeting guests politely. You couldn’t even recognize anyone staring back at you. 
Yoongi led you through all the guests expertly, exchanging greetings and small talk smoothly like he’d done this before. You felt like you were in a trance, repeating the same pleasantries and shallow questions. How was he so good at this?
You finally reached the end of the guests, moving to your bridal parties. You hadn’t even seen your parents, your mother was probably talking to guests herself. Joohee pulled you into a tight hug, holding it for a second longer before releasing you with a comforting smile on her face and sympathy in her eyes. The other bridesmaids didn’t bother going beyond quick congratulations, which you were grateful for. You didn’t know them anyway. Hoseok was next to Joohee, also immediately encasing you and attempting to ruffle your hair, but you moved your head out of the way. He stepped back, taking a moment to look at you before speaking. 
“You’re doing well.”
Your eyes became watery as you mustered up a shaky smile, something about him praising you for what felt like thankless effort almost pushed you over the edge, “Thanks, Hobi. Love you.”
“Love you too, always.”
“Hey, I love you too,” Joohee protested, making you bark out a laugh. 
“You’re my number one, Joo,” you smiled, taking her hands and squeezing them. She grinned widely in response before punching Hoseok in the arm. 
“Ow, what the heck,” he grumbled.
“Because I love Y/N more than you,” she responded petulantly, leaving Hoseok to only roll his eyes in response. 
The antics made you smile, giving you room to breathe in the stifling room of business partnership discussions. 
“Y/N,” Yoongi’s deep voice rumbled, making you freeze before turning to face him. His eyes laid on your figure in what felt like a scrutinizing manner, making you squirm under the heavy gaze. 
“I’d like you to meet my groomsmen,” Yoongi stated, gesturing behind him, “You already know Jin hyung.”
You nodded mutely, sending an unsure smile in Seokjin’s direction. Why was he doing this? He hadn’t bothered to introduce you to them before, why did it matter now? Were you supposed to introduce Hoseok too, then?
“This is Kim Namjoon,” Yoongi continued, moving his hand to clap the tall, dimpled man’s shoulder. The man smiled politely, the dimples faint with the minute movement, and stepped forward, putting out his hand, “Hi, I’ve known Yoongi since college. It’s nice to meet you.” 
You shook his hand, feeling quite exposed under his dragon-like eyes, “Nice to meet you too. I like your hair.” It was a rule that you’d made with yourself, to try and give at least one compliment to each new person you met. You found that it made them much more open and friendly towards you, and it didn’t hurt to receive compliments in return.
“Thanks,” Namjoon said, smile widening and deepening his dimples. His firm grasp on your hand grounded you, but you still felt your cheeks grow hot at the contact. Why were all of Yoongi’s friends so hot? “I like your hair too,” he finished. You smiled in response, pulling your hand away before your blush became too obvious. 
“This is Kim Taehyung,” Yoongi’s voice pulled you out of the stupor Namjoon’s visual put you in, “I met him a bit after college. He’s a pretty famous jazz performer.”
The model-esque man from the previous day stepped forward, rendering you speechless. Seriously, what was with this friend group? His elegant cheekbones and narrow nose perfectly complemented the kind eyes that adorned his face, and the sandy blonde hair that fell on his forehead. He quickly took your hand in his, kissing the top, making you gasp in response.
“You have beautiful eyes,” Taehyung said, his voice was a smooth baritone that sent shivers down your spine. He looked up from your hand, eyes hooded from his brow bone, making you quickly pull away at the stunning visual. 
“Thanks,” you stammered, trying to collect your thoughts, “You have a pretty smile.”
Taehyung’s face broke out into the aforementioned expression, an adorably contagious boxy smile, as he straightened up, “Thanks!”
“I actually listen to some jazz myself, though not that much,” you mentioned, wanting something to connect over, “I’ve been very into Kenny Garrett recently.”
Taehyung’s smile brightened, letting out a low chuckle, “Yes, he’s pretty great. You should come to one of my shows then, I’ll send you a ticket.”
You heard Yoongi clear his throat. 
“You and Yoongi hyung a ticket, of course,” Taehyung finished, winking at you before turning away to greet Hoseok. 
“And, lastly, this is Jeon Jeongguk. He’s the son of one of my father’s friends, so we grew up together,” Yoongi concluded, but Jeongguk interrupted. 
“Hi, noona! You look so pretty,” Jeongguk smiled, excitedly hugging you. You laughed in response, patting his back before retorting, “Thanks, you look pretty too.”
Jeongguk pulled away, laughing jovially, “Thanks! I told Yoongi hyung we already talked but I don’t think he believed me.”
You stiffened, glancing at Yoongi, whose face was impassive, “Oh, I see.”
Yoongi stepped forward, blocking Jeongguk from your sight, “And who’s your guest?”
“Oh,” you stuttered, flustered by his closer presence, “This is Hoseok. We met in college, but he lives in Busan now. Well, not for much longer, he’s looking to move here,” you rambled. 
Hoseok chuckled before placing a hand on your shoulder, “Hey, I’m Jung Hoseok. It’s nice to meet you.”
Both men shook hands before Hoseok returned to your side, “I’ve been by Y/N’s side ever since our first year, it’s a surprise I’ve lasted this long,” he finished with a short laugh. 
You elbowed him in the side, only making him grimace and slip his hand down to your waist for a teasing squeeze, “I work a dance studio in Busan but I’m planning on opening my own here.”
“Impressive,” Yoongi stated in a monotone voice, “You two must be close.”
“The closest,” Hoseok grinned, pulling you flush to his side, causing you to struggle, “We’re very familiar.”
Oh no.
That’s Hoseok’s shit-stirring voice, you knew it well. One glance at his sardonic grin had you wrestling out of his grip and trying to move on in the conversation to avoid whatever Hoseok was planning, “Yeah, we and Joohee are all really good friends. We were practically inseparable until Hoseok moved. We should all get lunch together sometime so you can get to know them better.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Yoongi said, almost eerily calm, eyes set on Hoseok’s impish smile.
You deflated at his words, forgetting for a moment that Yoongi didn’t want you to mix personal lives. It was embarrassing to say the least, and you felt like you came off as desperate. You felt yourself curl inwards before muttering a quiet, “Sure.”
Yoongi sent a curt nod in Hoseok’s direction before turning away to return to his own friend group, leaving you flustered and disconcerted next to Hoseok. He grinned triumphantly before noticing your abashed state, quickly pulling you into a soothing hug. 
You pulled away, not wanting to be embarrassed anymore tonight, and reached for a passing waiter’s tray of champagne. You didn’t usually drink at public functions, but you felt like this was a worthy exception. The bubbly liquid felt necessary to get through the rest of the night, and you welcomed the warming sensation enthusiastically. You didn’t catch Hoseok’s concerned gaze nor the other stare that fell on your form from a far darker pair of eyes across the table. 
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You were exhausted. Every limb in your body and your brain itself were screaming out with soreness and fatigue. It felt like a light at the end of a tunnel when guests began filing out and the party came to a close. 
You were decently buzzed, but still sober enough to be aware, from the multiple champagne glasses you drank. Joohee had made sure to keep you well hydrated, somewhat numbing the effects of the alcohol on your body. 
The rest of the reception had gone by quietly, with you and Yoongi separated for the majority of it, greeting what guests you hadn’t and barely talking during dinner. You were conflicted, somewhat grateful for the ease the lack of Yoongi’s presence gave you, but also finding yourself missing his confident aura. 
You waved the last guest out, before letting yourself collapse on a nearby chair. Joohee patted your shoulder and Hoseok wandered off to grab your belongings so that you’d be ready to go. Your mother closed the door to the room before approaching you, Yoongi’s parents in tow. 
“Yoongi,” his mother called, pulling him away from his friends who were seated at another table. He approached, arriving at your seat at the same time as your mother. 
“You’ll be going home in the car we’ve called for you,” your mother stated, leaving no room for argument. You were going to stay in Yoongi’s apartment now, “I assume your things are already there?”
You nodded timidly.
“Right, well, we’ll leave you to it. Would you like to join me and Woohyun for some drinks,” your mother asked Yoongi’s parents.
“Yes, of course, we’ll have a driver take us to your home. Yoongi, be good now,” his mother said, patting Yoongi’s shoulder and giving you a polite smile. You mustered up what you hoped was a smile in response, but you wouldn’t have been surprised if it was a grimace instead. 
Your mother offered you no goodbye and instead gathered your father and gave some closing instructions to the cleaning staff, before swiftly exiting. You were left looking at Yoongi, who was mouthing something to his friends, waiting to see what he would do.
Joohee squeezed your shoulder before leaving you to help Hoseok with your bags. Hoseok didn’t really need help as you didn’t have much except the clothes you’d arrived in and some electronics, but you could tell Joohee wanted to escape the tense atmosphere. You couldn’t blame her. 
Yoongi turned toward you, making you stand automatically to meet his gaze, “Are you ready to go?”
“Yes, let me just,” you started before being interrupted by Hoseok arriving with your bag. You chuckled awkwardly as Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, watching you take the bags from Hoseok. Joohee was next to him, fiddling with her phone in an effort to not engage, you assumed. 
“Are you leaving,” Hoseok asked, to which you nodded in response, “Well, have fun. Call me anytime, I’ll always be there.” He pulled you into a hug, making you melt in his embrace. You soon felt Joohee’s arms wrap around you as well, “Me too, we’ll talk later.” They released you before giving you encouraging smiles. You couldn’t say you felt the same level of confidence. 
Facing Yoongi, you gathered your bags, noting his one bag at his side, likely containing his suit. He nodded curtly at Hoseok and Joohee, who waved in response, before turning on his heel and walking towards the door. You stumbled after him, waving a messy goodbye to Hoseok and Joohee, and finally catching up to Yoongi holding the door open for you. You tried to muster a grateful nod, but seeing his cold expression, you moved quickly to get out the door. 
Awaiting your arrival outside was a sleek, black car, with a chauffeur standing patiently holding the door open to the backseat. You took a quick glance at Yoongi, who gestured for you to enter first, so you did, leaving your bags sitting outside. Yoongi climbed in afterward, quietly asking the driver to put the luggage in the trunk. The two of you sat in silence, waiting for the driver to finish packing the luggage away. 
It was finally over.
Somehow, it didn’t feel that way. The relief you’d hoped to feel was nowhere to be found and you were left with only the biting anxiety that Yoongi’s silence incited. You played mindlessly with the seams of your hanbok, finding it slightly uncomfortable to sit in the backseat with. Yoongi didn’t seem to share the same discomfort, scrolling idly on his phone and not acknowledging your presence. 
You wished you could do the same, but you’d left your phone in your bag after not having used it all day. Instead, you turned to the scenery outside your window to keep yourself occupied. The driver soon started up the car and began heading to Yoongi’s apartment. Watching the scenery fly by gave you time to think about what was waiting for you there. 
You hadn’t visited Yoongi’s apartment yet, too afraid and uncomfortable to set foot inside a space so truly and specially his. Most of your things from your own apartment were apparently already set up, courtesy of his maid, Mrs. Lim, whom you had been in contact with when you first dropped off your things. You had been in a rush, trying to get to a dress fitting, and Mrs. Lim had insisted that you give everything to her and that she would make sure it would be ready for you when you came. 
You supposed now was that time. 
Yoongi was still silent beside you and you weren’t sure what to say to him. You hadn’t really spoken for the rest of the night after his odd introduction to Hoseok. It frustrated you how the little things he was doing kept messing with your head. 
You weren’t an idiot, you knew that his actions could point toward jealousy, but you refused to consider that as a possibility. Not only would it contradict his entire attitude towards you, but you couldn’t allow yourself to feel even a sliver of hope that Yoongi might harbor feelings toward you. The constant self-regulation was taxing and you dreaded the idea that this would be your future, constantly reminding yourself that your husband doesn’t love you and to not get confused. 
Your thoughts halted with the car as the driver pulled into the entrance of the large building that housed Yoongi’s apartment. It was dark, so you gladly accepted the help of the chauffeur in getting out of the car. He kindly handed you your bags before bowing and driving away. You didn’t have access to the building yet, having called Mrs. Lim for your past visits, so you looked helplessly at Yoongi to unlock the door. 
He didn’t spare you a glance as he punched in his code and stood aside to let you in. You nodded in thanks anyway and shivered at the cold nipping at your cheeks. Yoongi led you to the elevator, pressing the 9th-floor button, silently standing in the opposite corner from you. 
Sighing internally, you almost laughed at the blatant display of the contempt he held for you. For the first time, you thought of him as slightly immature. 
The elevator doors slid open and Yoongi led you to a hallway with only four doors, each housing a penthouse apartment. The farthest door was Yoongi’s, you learned, as he held his thumb up to the pad before hearing a click and pushing the door open. Mrs. Lim was immediately there to greet him. 
“Mr. Min, let me take your things. Oh, Ms. Seo! Here, I’ll take your bags to your room. Wait, should I call you Mrs. Min, now?”
You smiled at the sweet, older woman, nodding your greeting, “Hi, Mrs. Lim. Please, just call me Y/N.”
She smiled at you, taking your things and rushing off to the upstairs portion of the apartment. It left you standing awkwardly next to Yoongi, who was typing something out on his phone. You took the moment to let your eyes wander around the sparkling apartment. It looked straight out of a catalogue with cool tones and neat furniture with an open concept. He had smooth, black leather couches surrounding a large TV with a path into a dining room that housed a large table and comfortable-looking chairs. That was next to a large kitchen with a wide counter in the middle and a sleek, silver refrigerator and oven. It looked nice, but not welcoming. You preferred warmer lighting and more touches of color, with some plants, but you reminded yourself that this wasn’t your space to customize.
Or was it? You weren’t really sure. It felt like you were invading Yoongi’s home, but wasn’t it your home now too? Should you be able to decorate it to your liking as well? Or at least compromise? The thought of addressing that now felt too overwhelming and you didn’t want to piss off Yoongi so early into your stay. 
“You can go change and get ready to sleep. We can discuss the ground rules now or tomorrow morning, your choice,” Yoongi said, snapping you out of your observation of the apartment. 
You nodded absently, wondering what other rules he had, “I can come down after changing.”
Yoongi hummed in response before taking off to the stairs, evidently going to change himself. You stood awkwardly by the entrance, not knowing exactly where your room was, and decided to take hesitant steps toward the stairs. 
“Oh, Ms. Seo, let me help you to your room,” came Mrs. Lim’s comforting voice from the top of the stairs. You gratefully accepted her help and followed her through the halls as she gave you a tour. 
“Over there is Mr. Min’s office, and just next to it, his bedroom. He has another office downstairs for his work, this one is more for personal use. There’s a bathroom here, but you have an en-suite bathroom in your bedroom anyway. There’s an extra room downstairs that I’ve fashioned into a bit of an office for you if you’d like to use it. That’s the guest bedroom there, the hallway bathroom is mainly for that one. Sometimes Mr. Min’s friends will stay over if they’ve drunk. Ah! Here’s your bedroom.”
You entered, enjoying Mrs. Lim’s chattering as she gave you a mini tour. Your bedroom was large with a queen-sized bed and soft-looking sheets with a fluffy comforter. There was a desk in the corner and a vanity in the other. You noted a door on the side that must lead to the bathroom, and your bags sitting on the floor by the desk. 
“Through that door is your closet and bathroom. I’ve set up your closet for the most part and tried to make it homey, but please feel free to decorate it to your liking! I’m so excited to have another woman here long term, Mr. Min doesn’t always make for great company. Oh, but don’t tell him I said that!”
You giggled, enjoying the motherly presence Mrs. Lim provided, and began unpacking some of your bags from the day, “Thank you, Mrs. Lim. I appreciate you doing all this for me. And please, call me Y/N.”
“Of course. Do you need assistance getting out of your hanbok?”
“No, I think I’ll be alright, thank you.”
“Right, then I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be off shift now so I’ll be heading home, but please feel free to call me if you have any questions.”
“Of course, thank you, Mrs. Lim. Have a good night.”
She bowed before exiting and you breathed out, sitting on the plush bed, making the comforter balloon around you. The room was nice, definitely, but it felt a bit stale and unwelcoming. At least you could customize this area without having to worry about Yoongi. You opened the door to the closet, marveling at the size and open entrance into the bathroom with a large tub and shower. Your clothes were nicely organized and you had no trouble finding some pajamas to change into with an old shirt you’d stolen from Hoseok and shorts. 
Quickly undressing, you neatly hung up your hanbok and slipped into the shower, grabbing the necessary toiletries from your bag. You relished in being able to wash the hair spray out of your hair and loosen it from your scalp, glaring at the pile of hairpins that sat on the granite counter you’d spent upwards of five minutes removing. The warm water soothed your aching legs and the soapy bodywash felt rejuvenating. 
You swiftly finished showering, not wanting to keep Yoongi waiting, and wrapped yourself in a towel before loosely drying your hair. You preferred to let it air dry, so you only lightly patted it with a towel. Drying off the rest of your body, you donned new undergarments, pausing on whether or not to put on a bra. You usually didn’t wear bras to bed, but you didn’t want to go down to meet Yoongi braless. 
You almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation and pulled on a comfortable sports bra, before slipping on your shorts and t-shirt, finally feeling comfortable. Quickly checking your reflection in the massive mirror, you headed down the stairs to meet Yoongi. 
He was sitting on the leather couch in a loose white t-shirt and black sweatpants, almost taking your breath away at how beautifully casual he looked. You’d only seen him in suits so far and seeing him in loungewear with wet hair and a towel around his neck left you flustered. He noticed your presence, eyes running over your form making you feel embarrassed. 
He gestured for you to join him on the couch, setting aside his phone to lean forward on his knees. You sat on the loveseat across from him, not quite sure what the etiquette was at this point. 
“Okay, so I’ve already told you the general rules I have. Basically, don’t enter my space without knocking and please, do not go into my upstairs office. I’ll do the same for you. You’re free to set up your rooms however you like.”
You nodded, all of this seemed pretty fair so far. 
“You can use the kitchen however you like, just let Mrs. Lim know what groceries you want. If I have guests over, I’d prefer if you stayed in your room, but I won’t force you. This space is as much yours as it is mine, now.”
You continued nodding along, making some notes of getting a TV for your room so you could properly entertain yourself when his friends were over. You wouldn’t exactly want him coming into the room when you’re with Hoseok and Joohee either. 
“You can invite your friends over whenever you want, just let me know in advance. I’ll be sure to do the same for you. Also, if I have any of my own partners over,” he continued, the last words causing you to flinch, “I’ll make sure to let you know. Please just give us some privacy and try not to be out in the common space when they’re here. Of course, I’ll extend the same courtesy.”
The harsh reminder of the openness of the marriage left you squirming in the chair. You didn’t want to remember that Yoongi would be fucking other people in the home you shared. 
“We can add things as we get used to living together. Anything you want to add?”
You shook your head quickly, just wanting to go to bed as soon as possible. Yoongi nodded, rising, before sparing you one last glance.
“Alright, goodnight then.”
“Goodnight,” you squeaked, watching him ascend the stairs. After his form disappeared into the hallway, you leaned back on the loveseat, exhaling harshly. What a conversation. You’d have to take some time to get used to this. You returned to your room feeling heavily conflicted. As you set up your phone and watch chargers, you thought over the conversation. 
Objectively, Yoongi was being relatively fair, letting you exist in the space in the same capacity as him. Yet, you still felt unhappy. You knew why. You wanted him to be only yours, to have the same exclusive outlook you did on the relationship. You were upset with yourself more than him. 
He had made this clear from the beginning, that he had no intention of stopping any partners outside of the relationship. He clearly didn’t want to have a relationship with you, sex or not, so what he was doing now was completely fair.
You couldn’t turn the emotional part of your brain that craved to have a real romantic relationship with him. It was almost annoying and you were frustrated at yourself for continuing to feel this way. 
Climbing into bed, you continued wallowing, deciding that you’d pity yourself tonight, but the next day, you’d have to pull yourself together. You’d taken a couple of weeks off at the insistence of your boss, even though he knew you weren’t going on a honeymoon, and you wanted to enjoy sleeping in. 
It was time to adopt Yoongi’s approach and try to remove yourself emotionally from the situation. How hard could it be?
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Yoongi couldn’t focus on his book, ultimately setting it aside on his bedside table. He furiously rubbed at his eyes, feeling frustrated. 
His eyes hadn’t been listening to him lately. They seemed to constantly wander after your figure, finding your face and curves at every corner. The past couple of days, they had barely strayed from you, watching as you cuddled up to that man, Hoseok. 
Who was he? Were you two together? Was Hoseok in love with you? More importantly, why did it bother Yoongi so much? 
He groaned, feeling annoyed that your relationship with Hoseok was getting to him so much. He had been the one to set the boundary of it being an open relationship, so why did it bother him so much that you seemed to be employing that? Yoongi knew that he had no right to feel this way and was only further annoyed that he continued to do so. 
And what was with your budding friendship with Jeongguk? When did you two become so close? Yoongi buried his head in his hands, shouldn’t he be happy that his friends and wife are getting along?
Wife. It felt odd to say, or think, that. You were his wife now. Except he’d made it clear that the title didn’t change anything between you, nor would it change his actions. Despite his earlier resolve to not let this marriage affect him, you seemed to be having a great effect on him. 
He’d followed your form and mannerisms throughout the past couple of days. He’d noticed your trembling hands and avoiding eye contact. When the two of you had been about to kiss, he could feel your body shaking beneath his hands, prompting him to cover your mouth for the kiss. 
He hated how tempted he’d been to fully kiss you.
Throughout the rest of the ceremony and reception, you’d been largely withdrawn, until you’d met with Hoseok. Yoongi was frustrated that you didn’t seem to be able to stand up for yourself, that you played so well into the role of a trophy wife, but he’d been even more upset at your close contact with Hoseok. 
The man had laid his hands on you so easily and seeing the way Hoseok’s fingers curled around your waist and your smile when you talked to him made Yoongi’s blood boil. Why hadn’t you smiled at him like that? 
Yoongi bit his lip, he knew that wasn’t your fault. He hadn’t been welcoming at all to you, he’d barely given you a chance to talk to him. Yoongi was just steadfast in his mission to continue on with life as normal, he didn’t want this marriage to change anything. He knew it wasn’t fair of him to be upset with you going along with his requests. 
You were dangerous. 
You were dangerous in the way that you nodded along to everything Yoongi asked, in the way you refused to let your mask slip and show any emotion, in the way you smiled so brightly with Hoseok and Jeongguk, in the way your cheeks tinged pink when Taehyung kissed your hand and Namjoon smiled at you, and in the way you looked so comfortable and natural in your pajamas. 
Yoongi had to suck in a breath when he saw you entering the living room with your freshly washed and damp hair, falling in wet curls strands around your shoulders, making a wet spot on the oversized dance team t-shirt. 
That was another thing. Where had you gotten that shirt? It was far too big for you, Yoongi knew that well. It was obvious in the way it fell past the hem of your shorts, tantalizing his eyes to rake down your legs, and it was for a college dance team. Were you on one in college?
Or, Yoongi’s mind raced, was it Hoseok’s? Hadn’t the man said he worked in a dance studio? The thought made Yoongi fume, just how close had you two gotten? 
But he paused, what right did he have to feel upset? Yoongi had been in bed with another woman just days ago, it wasn’t fair of him to judge you for doing the same. He’d said that you were allowed to sleep with or date whoever you wanted, so why was he so angry at the idea of you and Hoseok? 
Another sigh escaped him, he didn’t have it in him to deal with this tonight. Just the idea of you a few rooms down in that too-big shirt and too-short shorts was enough to drive him crazy. 
He reached over, turning off the lamp next to his bed. He’d unpack his feelings in the morning. Yoongi turned over, settling into bed, ignoring how empty and cold his hand felt without your warmth. 
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American Mate - (5) Heated Discussions
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Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader
Status: Ongoing series
Chapter number: 5 of unknown
Word count for Chapter: 2765 (sorry it is so short)
Work count for Story: 19,008
Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine
A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children. One of which is special needs, and on 3/28, they lost 75% of their vision. I started a Ko-fi and a Patreon if you feel the heart to donate towards helping with the medical costs of appointments, medication, and modifications to the house, which insurance doesn't cover.
Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does have Injury, Anxiety, arguments, comfort, Alpha Space, close proximity, and scenting.
Story Summary: The Hybrid K-pop group BTS is on tour in America; of course, things don't start out the way they should, but after an encounter with Y/n, things change but will everyone follow Fate?
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Keep Safe. Keep Safe. First, it was Taehyung, and now it's Yoongi. Alpha Space seems to be no joke. Derek was not lying when he said this mindset helps them protect. Let’s hope this doesn’t mean they will treat you like a child.
Walking out of the elevator, you cannot help but smile at the rest of the Bangtan pack. While still in pain, you felt safe around them. 
“Excuse me, Miss Y/n. I have a few things that I would like to discuss with you before we get going. Allow me to walk you to your van,” Manager Sejin directs you off to the side with a nod from Namjoon. 
Yoongi closely follows you as you go with Manager Sejin. “Miss Y/n, thank you for your care and consideration in this situation. I can promise you that it will not be easy for the eight of you, but it will be worth it.”
As he speaks, you feel a tail wrap around your waist, and a hand touches your back. Looking over your shoulder, you see that Yoongi has his hand on your upper back but is facing away from you, looking at his packmates. 
Noticing that the group has gathered in a circle, something significant is being discussed. Not wanting to keep Yoongi from doing something important, you look back at the manager.
“Manager Sejin, I do not feel so well. Can you please take me to the van? I would like to sit down and process things.” He nods and moves towards the van in front.
“Mr. Min,” you smile softly at the jaguar as he looks at you, keeping an ear tuned in to the group of men. “I am going to go sit in the van. I am sure that I will be fine there while I wait for you and your packmates.”
Adding a bit of a pout to your smile, you ask, “Can you go and make sure everything is okay so that we can go? My hand is really starting to hurt?”
“Yes. Van safe. Manager Safe. Go packhouse now.” Yoongi responds.
Unwrapping his tail, he pushes on your back softly, urging you to get in. He returns to the circle of hybrids in what looks like a new heated discussion.
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After exiting the elevator, Taehyung makes to stay with you, Yoongi, and the manager but is stopped by Jungkook. The younger one knows Taehyung would want to be a part of the discussion that is soon to come, even if he is still in Alpha Space.
After you had gone off with Yoongi and their manager, the remaining packmates circled up at the youngest's request. The mates seek comfort in one another. Jungkook hugs Taehyung from behind, while Jimin hugs Hosek around the waist as he leans against Seokjin.
Most of the pack had been through finding mates since there are six of them. Jungkook was the only one who understood the concept of what to do with a new mate but had never been on this side of the situation. 
“There are two vans. Obviously, Yoongi will be going in the van with Y/n, but who is going with them?” asks Jungkook, looking around as it dawns on them. 
The vans only fit five people in the back. Each mate immediately started proposing why they had to be in the same van as you, all at once. 
Seokjin said he only got to speak to you before the observation room and needed to see if his Alpha would react like everyone else has so far.
Hosek tops everyone, saying that he has only ever gotten to look at you, and it’s high time he was able to speak to the newest mate.
Jimin agrees with Hosek and thinks he can help get Yoongi out of Alpha Space on the trip to the packhouse.
Taehyung keeps quiet, his Alpha Space pulling at him to be near you again soon. However, Taehyung’s Alpha was much calmer and understood that being the second youngest meant he would most likely not be allowed to go. 
Jungkook argues that he was the one who got you to calm down in the break room, and your instincts are already reacting to him. Therefore, he is the best person to keep you calm from here on out.
Rubbing his temples, Namjoon lets out a sigh. He said you were ‘no trouble,’ but you really are gonna be trouble for them, but not in a way he is worried about. It's just going to be a change in dynamic.
“Guys, we all want to spend time with our new mate, but we must remember that she is human and doesn’t understand. Right now, all she knows is that Yoongi is deep in Alpha Space, and we, as a pack, must help her situation.”
“How are we going to tell her, Hyung? If her family member's statement is true, she won’t believe us,” Jimin says, looking your way, ears flat in concern.
“That is a good question. I don’t have an answer right now.”
“We may not have much time to come up with something. She needs to know. She needs to understand,” Hosek voices with watery eyes. If what that man upstairs said truly is the kind of person you are, they must help you grow to recognize yourself. 
Moving to hug Hosek with the others, Jungkook adds, “She may know about hybrids, but she doesn’t know enough about the Alpha-side of the culture, and what’s even worse is that she doesn’t know how precious she is.”
“That’s it! I go in van. Show Mate real!” Taehyung finally speaks up. He turns to walk toward you with a puffed tail and determination, only to be stopped by Soekjin.
“No, you have spent time with her. She knows you care, but she still thinks I am looking at one of the playmates they introduced us to. I am going to go with her.”
Within seconds, they are back to all talking over each other. Each of them demanded the other stay behind with justifications. This time, Namjoon joins in the fray. None of them notice that you have entered the van, and Yoongi is standing just outside the circle, watching the hushed chaos. 
With a stern voice that is just a bit louder than everyone else, Yoongi declares, “Packhouse, go now. Mate in pain.”
Silence takes over the group as they all look in your direction. Though you are inside the van, they can still see you. Taking in your appearance, they notice your wrist keeps swelling more, your face is paler, and you are bouncing your leg with nerves.
"Yoongi-hyung is right. We need to go. Yoongi, Hosek, Jungkook, and I will go with Y/n. The rest of you will go in the other van,” Pack Alpha says with a hint of Alpha voice, trying his best to get everyone going. 
“No,” Soekjin counters. “I pull the eldest card. Kookie, I am sorry but you should go with the others and help with Tae. I want to talk with her.”
“Hyuuunnnnggg,” whined the youngest, “fine, I will sit in the reject van.” Jungkook stomps off to the second van. His ears droopy, and his shoulders rounded like a scolded child.
“We got our bun,” Jimin says as he follows, pulling the still crystal-eyed Taehyung along. He mutters promises of scenting, nesting, and various kinds of cuddles if the Alpha joins him and the bunny in the second van.
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Taking a seat in the van, you notice two captain chairs and a bench seat. Not knowing where everyone else sat, you figured Yoongi’s Alpha would practically require him to sit near you, which meant the bench seat would be the best. 
Sitting in the middle of the bench but on the edge of the seat, you bounce your leg while you wait because your anxiety is still bugging you. Your wrist is throbbing now. 
You wish you had something to drink as you eye the bottles of water sitting in the different cup holders. Wishing they had something more potent, you keep quiet, and your eyes return to watching the group talk.
Noticing where your line of sight was, Manager Sejin grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler built into the center console, opened it, and held it out to you. “Would you like something to drink? We only have water.”
“Oh, thank you, Sir. I didn’t want to take something that belonged to the pack.”
Shaking his head, Manager Sejin can smell your nervousness as his eyes flit over your form. Then he takes a quick look at the pack. They are still deep in discussion. Finally, he looks you in the eye. 
With a sigh, “Miss y/n, may I give you some advice?”
Swallowing your water quickly, you give him your full attention and nod.
“You are a person. A person that has needs, wants, and desires. Don’t be afraid to speak up. Ask for things. Demand things. I know they can be a bit much but they are each a person just like you. Idol or not.”
At the sound of footsteps, both of you look to see some of them approaching. Before he moves to the front seat, he says, “They will be there for you.” 
You are not sure what was more surprising. The fact that the two captain's chairs could turn to face the backseat or that Yoongi allowed you to be sandwiched between his older packmates.
Seokjin entered first. He sat on the bench to your left, and you hurried over to give him room. This was short-lived because next came Hosek.
Hosek gracefully wiggled his way to your right side on the bench. No wonder he was a dance god, you thought to yourself as you dropped your eyes to the floor to avoid watching his chest and hips pass your face.
This puts you in the middle and unable to keep any respectful distance between yourself and them. Feeling a blush creep up your neck and face as the two men’s bodies pressed against your larger form, you move to sit on one of the other chairs. 
“Sit. Safe. Hyungs…hmmm…” Yoongi starts to explain, but his Alpha Space limits his words since he and his Alpha don’t want to give too much information about you being their mate just yet.
“Sit, please, doll. Yoongi will want to sit near the door to be your first line of defense. I guess you could say,” Hosek speaks up gently, pulling at your elbow and guiding you back to your seat.
“Yes. Keep Safe. Guard.” Yoongi says with the look of a drill sergeant on his face as he takes the chair near the door. Namjoon, having already taken his seat in the other chair, spun it to face you.
“Guarding the door, got it but I could sit in the chair and Mr. Prime Alpha could sit with you. I am sure it would be more comfortable with him here than with me.”
Next thing you know, you are face-to-face with Seokjin as he leans his chest across your body to tighten you in. You hold your breath as you make eye contact with his deep, intelligent eyes.  
“I do hope you are not implying what I think you are,” Seokjin comments while handing Hosek your seatbelt.
His eyes are searching yours for something. As your blush deepens, a smirk grows on his face before he says, “you are much more cozy to sit with than Joon, Miss y/n.”
You are dizzy at the thought of making yourself ‘cozy’ with Seokjin. Blinking rapidly, you try to return to this reality and out of the gutter as you chuckle a response, “Ah, cozy, haha, I don’t think Gabriel Iglesias uses that in his levels.”
A mixture of hissing and growls fills the van. Your eyes snap up to see that Seokjin is the one hissing as he sits back correctly. Looking over, you see Namjoon’s jaw is set, and Yoongi’s eyes have narrowed as they growl. 
Instinctually, you lean away from the dangerous noise makers which causes you to press against Hosek. Placing a hand back on your elbow, he leans forward, whispering in your right ear, “Doll, I think you have had some rather mean and disrespectful people around you in your past, but you are with us now.”
“We do not allow for anyone to be self-deprecating. From the look on Yoongi’s face this isn’t the first time you have done this.”
Not taking your eyes off the three men whom you seemed to piss off yet again, “It’s not self-deprecation. It’s pointing out the truth, which helps me stay grounded.”
A soft hiss is heard in your ear, causing you to jolt forward, only to be stopped by an arm now around your waist. Hosek chuckles as he pulls you back against his chest. His warm breath only adds warmth to your already heated skin. 
Whispering in your other ear, “While it is nice that you are so instinctually responsive to us, doll. You must learn to listen when you are told something. In time you will believe what we tell you as well.”
While time in the van seemingly stops and sound becomes non-existent, the focus is on you as you battle your various reactions. 
Your body responds in a mix of ways. The lean but fit body pressed against your back warms you, causing your heart rate to race. However, the deep chuckles, hot breath on your neck, and primal eyes watching you cause heat to start pooling lower on your body.
Your mind is back in your damn nightmare because you cannot seem to go more than five minutes without causing some kind of adverse reaction from the world’s most famous male K-pop band.
To top it off, you are internally scolding yourself for losing your professionalism when all you want to do is figure out how to make them stop being upset at you and hide before they notice that you are getting riled up over basically nothing.
Your gutter of a mind now takes the nightmare of being hunted by the pack of Alphas in a much different direction. 
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“Kookie! Kookie! Come on, bun. You know Jin-hyung is only trying to find ways to help,” Jimin coos at the upset bunny hybrid. Shaking his head, Jimin wonders why it is his job always to calm down these two lovebirds.
Realizing Jungkook is a lost cause, Jimin undoes his seatbelt and sits in Taehyung’s lap, gaining his attention. Jimin asks, “Alpha, is this okay? We really need Tae Tae back to help with Kookie and our newest mate. If I scent you well, can you let go?”
The crystal blue eyes look over his slightly older mate,”Scent then help mates.”
Smiling sweetly at the Alpha, Jimin noses at his jaw, causing the tiger to tilt his head to grant more space. Scooting forward and resting fully on Tae’s thighs, Jimin rubs his cheek along Tae’s jawline. Soft puffs of warm air blow across Tae’s neck, causing the Alpha’s breath to hitch. 
Continuing his journey, Jimin sniffs down the tip of his ear, down his neck to the bend where the scent of ebony wood is most robust. Pressing a soft kiss to the gland, the scenting session continues. 
The scent of ebony wood, oranges, and vanilla mixes. It is not long before the pouting bunny hybrid starts to watch his hyungs. Long forgotten is the reason why he is upset as he slowly releases his own calming cinnamon-like scent into the mix. 
Realizing that he has successfully got one of the two mates into a better mood, Jimin ups the ante. Shifting his weight forward, he lays his body flush against Taehyung. Within moments, Taehyung’s hand gripped Jimin’s tiny waist, pulling him in tighter.
Chirping happily at the response, Jimin kisses up and down Taehyung’s neck. When Taehyung starts to scent Jimin back, Jimin nips over the scent gland and laves it with his tongue, mixing their scents deeper.
Soon, the youngest joined them on the bench, sniffing the air and whining. Shifting closer, his bunny tail wiggled, and his ears stood as tall as they could inside the van.
“Tae-hyung, Minie-hyung, can I join? Please?” Jungkook asks as he softly places a hand on Jimin’s thigh. 
Nodding, Jumin moves to the other side of Taehyung’s neck, and Jungkook takes his place. Drowning the spaced-out Alpha in the loving scents of his two mates.
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wildestdreamsblog · 9 hours
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Latibule Spinoff: Elysian
Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader 
Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: if this ain't the most unserious hiatus ever XD
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Masterlist, Part IV of __
“If you know in one glimpse it’s legendary…what we thought was for all time was momentary…”
You tilted your head to the side as you watched the young man mumbled the lyrics to a song, his head resting on his forearm on the table. He was holding the glass of soju on his other. His voice had a certain melodic tone in it, and you were certain that he could be a singer had he wanted to. But now, he was a man that was too drunk to sit straight.
“Still alive killing time at the cemetery. Never quite buried…”
You blinked from your seat across him before turning to the doctor beside you who was busy grilling meat. Kim Seokjin appeared to not be bothered by how his brother was acting, only flashing you a smile when he saw you looking at him. He added another one on the pile of grilled meat he kept on placing on your plate. Meanwhile, Jungkook’s was almost gone and Seokjin still prioritized your plate over his.
You leaned closer, your voice barely a whisper amidst the din of the restaurant. "Is he going to be okay?" you asked, your gaze never leaving Jungkook's slouched form as he continued to sing. The noise inside the tented restaurant made it harder for him to hear you. It was like he wasn’t thinking too hard for the first time since you came barging in his life as he leaned down his head to hear you, his ear almost touching your lips from his proximity.
This seemed right, he thought, to be near you. It was like he was finally following his urges, letting his control slip for just a little for you.
And for the second time that night, your heart beat so loud it was a miracle that he couldn’t hear it, or that you didn’t go into cardiac arrest.
“Hmm?”
You cleared your throat before repeating your question. “He’s singing Taylor Swift’s new song. The album only came out this morning and it seems like he already memorized it…Is he okay?”
Seokjin looked up to watch his brokenhearted brother who was now unstealthily stealing meat from your plate, unaware of both your eyes on him. “Talking rings and talking cradles………I wish I could unrecall-“
Jungkook sniffed before eating the meat. It would have been hilarious to watch the tears falling from his eyes as he chewed, except that he looked like a child that was abandoned by the way his lips were pouted. The tattoos and the lip piercing did nothing to make him less endearing. You thought he was really just a charming person. But now he was just sad, as though he lost something he could never get back.
“-how we almost had it all.”
And then cue the endless tears.
Seokjin sighed, his eyes trained on the younger man he claimed to have raised on his own since he was thirteen. It was rare to see him cry. He always toughed it out, always had this innate need to prove himself to his older brothers despite the repeated assurance they gave him that they were tough so he wouldn’t need to. But he was stubborn. And in turn, he became a hardened man, a no-nonsense CEO and a violent leader of the underworld.
Well, until he married her. Suddenly, the sun seemed to have finally shone on his world. Seokjin could remember how happy and giddy Jungkook looked when he put the ring on her finger. He could remember how excited he was to come home to her everyday, even going as far as telling them how wonderful she was, or that cute thing she did for him, or how her cooking was the best he ever had.
Spoiler alert, though, she was the worst cook. She didn’t know that there was a distinct difference between a sugar and a salt, and no, just because they looked the same didn’t mean that they tasted the same.
See what love did to Jeon Jungkook, the pickiest person when it came to food?
Well, until she left.
“It’s not his birthday today,” Seokjin finally answered. “And eat. You’re far too thin.”
“Excuse me! I’m not!”
“Uhuh,” he said as he rolled his eyes. “Are you even eating three times a day?”
“Wh- well. N-no! Who has the time?” you sputtered, cheeks warming up from the attention you were getting from him.
He raised his brows at that before pointedly looking at your plate, making a mental note to ensure that your schedule from now on wouldn’t be so tight that you forgot to eat. Or better yet, he would personally visit the head of your department to berate him for not ensuring your well-being!
“And what do you mean that it’s not his birthday?”
 “It’s his wedding anniversary today.”
Huh? Your eyes automatically went to his ring finger, only to find a tattoo that you didn’t notice before. It was a name. You thought that he must have been so in love to have permanently etched his wife’s name on his skin. However, another question popped in your mind.
“Then why is he here instead of with her?”
“She left her more than a year ago. He doesn’t know where she is right now.”
Your heart went out to the young man. He seemed to be so heartbroken evident from his tears and the sadness in his doe eyes. He was too young to be this sad, you thought. Seokjin’s eyes were on you as you looked at Jungkook. You were so soft, he thought. You wore your emotions on your sleeves, genuine concern etched on your face and he couldn’t help but marvel at your capacity for compassion despite only meeting him today.
“That’s so sad. No wonder he’s crying his heart out,” you mumbled, reaching out to pat the younger man’s broad back in display of silent support. “I don’t know how anyone can carry it.”
He nodded, “I don’t think I’ll ever have to know.”
You blinked owlishly at his statement. And when you turned to him, his eyes were dark. He was now looking at the glass of soju, twirling the liquid contents slowly.
“Why?” you asked what you shouldn’t have.
He smirked before drinking. His movements were languid before turning his dark and cold eyes to you. “Because, sunshine, I don’t think I have it in me to allow my wife to leave me.”
That should have been your first warning.
And to Kim Seokjin, that was his first warning to himself.
---
He didn’t avoid you. No.
But for the following week, he was distant. He smiled at you when he saw you, but other than that, he did not engage. He greeted you when you greeted him, but other than that, he claimed to have an urgent appointment every time.
See, one step forward was two steps backward when it came to him, you thought. And perhaps, it was for the better. Had this progressed beyond a harmless crush, you would have been hurt. You would only bring him down with you. So for the next days, you threw yourself at work, saying yes to whatever assistance your colleagues needed, even going as far as offering your help to their research.
What? It was an overtime which equated to overtime pay!
That was what you reasoned to yourself, and nope, it was not because you were avoiding excess time to think about that handsome doctor.
Perhaps, what deviated in your work was the amount of free meals the department was getting. It even came to the point was when you didn’t go out of the office for lunch, the department head himself went in and demanded you to eat. You were confused as you followed him out and wondered why he looked a bit terrified. Other than that, you week was calm.
This was good, you convinced yourself as you waited in line for your turn to order, less time with him meant that whatever crush you had for him would die a natural death. You certainly weren’t hurt that your last interaction meant nothing to him when he claimed to have wanted you there with him. You nodded to yourself as you thought that Seokjin looked like a walking heartbreak just waiting to happen.
“Come on, just admit you like her! Why else would you reallocate the budget to cater the food for their department?!”
Seokjin rolled his eyes at his Doctor Seong-min and his obnoxious voice. The two doctors decided to step out for the afternoon to grab a decent coffee. He shifted impatiently in line, silently willing the people ahead him to order faster so he could physically separate himself from his colleague and escape the conversation. He had yet to forgive him for almost getting the coffee his sunshine got for him.
Wait, what?!
His?
See, this was why he needed coffee!
“I heard our branch in the far province desperately needs a resident surgeon. Maybe you want to transfer there?” he asked quietly, the tone of threat not even hidden as he smiled at the man. The mention of transferring to a far-flung province was a thinly veiled threat, one that Seong-min knew Seokjin was all too capable of carrying out if pushed far enough.
“Damn, dude. Chill. If you don’t like her, just say so. I’m just 307% sure that you do-“
“We can’t have doctors that are bad at math! What do you mean 307%?!-“
“Oh, is it 400% now?” he blinked innocently at the man who was berating him, his voice increasing and his ears reddening from his emotions. It was fun to see him like this, Seong-min noted. He was always calm and collected even in the face of emergencies. Seokjin seemed to always know what to do in every situation, and now, one mention of your name and he became like this.
With a forced smile, Seokjin turned to face Seong-min, his voice low and tinged with frustration. "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered, though the denial rang hollow even to his own ears.
Seong-min merely chuckled, unfazed by Seokjin's attempt at deflection. "Come on, Jin. It's written all over your face," he teased, leaning in closer as if sharing a secret. "You can't fool me.”
He glared at him and Seong-min felt a shiver down his spine as though he was facing a dangerous person and not the peace-loving and hardworking doctor he knew since they were in university. “Fine! I just asked because my friend saw Doctor Y/N and asked me to set her up with him! I was just being a good friend to you-“
What?
See, the mention of another man was what finally pushed him to the very edge and he could feel the fragile sanity of his breaking. However, what he didn’t expect from his genius brain was stupidity.
“Seong-min, are you even using your brain? Why would I, the perfect and genius Doctor Kim Seokjin, ever like someone as bland as her? I have taste. And she could never reach my taste in women. She’s not the same stature as me. She’s so far below me that it’s embarrassing to even insinuate that I feel something for her. Besides, I only entertain her because she’s funny-“
Seong-min’s eyes went in front as the line moved, and it was because of you.
With the steaming cup of hot coffee in your hand, you turned to them. You didn’t say anything. You just watched as Seokjin continued his tirade, completely unaware of your presence, adding lashes to your heart and ego.
God, you were so embarrassed. How could you have thought that he was anything but a rich man who looked down at people beneath him? How could he hurt you where it hurts?
“Honestly, the least she could do is to move faraway from me. She’s nothing-“
It was only when Seong-min pushed his shoulder that he finally noticed you and your tear-filled eyes. He blinked repeatedly as though he was just starting to understand of your presence here, that you were not just a figment of his worst nightmare came to life.
He called for you.
He knew he did.
But instead, you stalked away from him as you tried to salvage whatever was left of your dignity.
“Seriously, Seokjin, you’re an idiot,” Seong-min said, shaking his head in disdain. Seokjin had no choice but to agree.
He was the biggest idiot.
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bunnybubae · 24 hours
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(M)🚦Red Light: The Allure | Ch3 [JJK]
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👉🏻[Series Masterpost]
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (GymOwner!JK/MotoRacer!JK/Biker!JK-TattoArtist!OC)
Genre: S2L - Smut - Fluff - Angst
Summary: Jeon Jungkook never lets any distraction take him away from his motorcycle or his gym for more than one night. He just wants to speed around the track and feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins, the sex he gets thanks to his charm, is just a side dish to his life. A tough past brought him on that Ducati that he learned to love, a past  you’ll uncover, as you slowly seep in under his skin. It’s a hell of a ride, in all senses, as you try to escape your own hell in the meanwhile.  Where will this ride bring you? Will it be worth it in the end?
Chapter Warnings: mention of the toxic ex (again, unfortunately), still a lot of teasing and heavy flirting, JK in black CK undies yes, it is a warning, brief mention of weed,  alcohol consumption, brief thigh riding, rubbing in public environment, dry humping, oral sex (M/F receiving), praise kink, protected sex, one (1) slap on the ass, rough sex.
Wc: 11.7k
A/N: Hello there! I hope you guys still want to read this story, cause CH3 is finally out! As always, I'm sorry if there are some grammatical mistakes, english isn't my first language and I don't have a beta, so pls bear with me! 🫶🏻 Let me know what are your thoughts about the story, my box is always open! - Joy 🐰
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December 8th, Friday
You're glad it didn't pour down all day.
The night sky is clear and the smell of rain permeates in the air. You look through the car window covered in droplets as Hani chats with the driver.
You're too busy looking at scattered puddles on the asphalt reflecting the surrounding lights to pay attention to whatever the uber driver is saying.
The only thing troubling your mind right now is the last message you received. You had already blocked Ray's number a long time ago, but no one else would ever dream of sending you a similar message. The scumbag must have changed it.
You check your phone screen once again, almost hopeful that the content of the message is now different or even better, gone.
Unknown Number:- Have fun tn.
You tighten the coat you're wearing around your figure, as if that would be enough to make you feel safe.
Three words were enough to disgust you to the core. Well done Ray.
His intent is clear: he hopes to ruin your evening with this message, he wants you to feel out of place and you know pretty well that behind those seemingly innocent words there is much more hidden. His passive aggressive stalking exudes from every pixel of the screen. 
You wonder how he knows your plans for the evening, you hoped he had finally stopped spying on you, but clearly, this dude is unweary.
A hand suddenly rests on your shoulder, drawing your attention and making you flinch at the unexpected contact. Your thoughts must have poisoned your features judging by Hani's tone of voice, gentle and concerned.
“Y/N, are you okay?”
You mechanically put your phone back in your pocket and look at her with a hint of a smile, hoping that she doesn't notice the tornado of thoughts that swirl behind your eyes.
You don't want your worries to ruin your evening, that's exactly what that asshole would want.
Much less, you want Hani to decide it's best to take you home. It would be a defeat on all fronts.
You're going to go to this damn party and have fun. Ray has no power over you, not anymore. To let this message get under your skin would mean allowing him to manipulate you once again. You have to use it instead to do the exact opposite, to free yourself tonight and allow your wounded soul to dance.
Your face softens a little more as you manage to regain control of your thoughts.
"Yeah, it's all good. How long will it take to get there?"
Hani tells you that you'll arrive in a few minutes. She doesn't seem entirely convinced by your attempt to reassure her but you're glad she doesn't ask anything more when you start a barrage of questions about this kind of parties and the moto races.
Tae and Jungkook are waiting for you inside, she says, apparently they had to deal with some organizational issues related to tomorrow's qualifications, that's why they went earlier.
Hani is particularly thrilled, you can tell by the way she describes in as much detail as possible all the competitions and parties she's already attended. A little of her enthusiasm makes its way through you and you find yourself smiling genuinely as you listen to her.
A few minutes later, your driver parks next to the curb and once you get out of the car, you are amazed to notice the huge group of motorbikes parked in the lot next to the venue.
They're all well parked, resting under the light of the street lamps which highlights all their beautiful colors and shapes.
You reach the entrance guarded by a guy who looks like he could fold a motorbike in two. His menacing presence actually calms you further. You sigh without realizing it as your chest feels a little lighter.
Hani greets the big boy, who reciprocates, while maintaining a serious demeanor. He lets you in without even asking for documents or such, Hani is really well known by now.
The interior of the place has been well decorated for the occasion and the music is not excessively loud, the atmosphere is pleasant. You were expecting something more frenetic considering the adrenaline that motorcyclists are used to, everyone seems to be having fun but with ease instead. Which doesn't bother you at all.
Hani leads you to a small room filled with some sort of lockers to take off your coat before you could finally start your night.
It doesn't take long to find Tae, sitting at the bar, right next to the dance floor.
As you get closer, you notice that he's with a dark-haired guy and that they both seem deep in conversation.
"Here you are finally! Hoseok, Y/N, Y/N, Hoseok"
Tae gestures with his hands between you and the guy next to him. 
"You can call me Hobi!"
He says with a beautiful smile and holding out his hand.
The handshake was a bit embarrassing for you, you're no longer used to this type of introduction. Usually, the customers who come to the shop know you through Instagram or through friends, and it is easier to establish relationships which, in that circumstance, are limited to work.
"Nice to meet you, Hobi."
Tae offers everyone a round and the alcohol seems to loosen your nerves a little more.
Despite the initial awkwardness, the conversation between the four of you continues smoothly. You laugh out loud when Hobi tells an anecdote about Tae and Jungkook, you find him funny, both his way of storytelling and the emphasis he puts on details. He is definitely a sunny and extroverted guy who is able to drag anyone into conversation and put a smile on their face with his energetic ways.
Speaking of Jungkook,  you wonder where he could be, considering he was not here with them when you arrived.
Hobi continues his tell tales while Hani chuckles and Tae intervenes every now and then
"That guy over there," Hobi points behind you, "That one over there has been the champion for two years in a row!"
You turn to see where his finger is pointing only to realize that the champion he's talking about is Jungkook himself.
Tae laughs mockingly, determined to annoy you today as well, clearly. "Oh, they know each other very well!" and he exaggerates a wink.
Luckily enough, Hani seems to be on your side tonight. She elbows him on the side to shut him up but that only elicits a half-laugh from Tae.
"Yes, because I joined his gym." You respond casually, purposely ignoring Tae's innuendos.
Hobi starts waving his arm in the air trying to get Jungkook's attention from across the room.
Jungkook is talking to a couple of people, you look at him as he smiles and nods at something his interlocutors said, then he notices Hobi's attempts to call him.
He waves back and seems to want to return to the conversation with whoever is in front of him, when he notices you next to his friends.
A small smile forms on his face and his gaze remains fixed on you, almost as if he were challenging you to a staring contest. 
You decide to playfully stick your tongue out at him to which he, in response, reacts with a damn wink.
You turn around and try to douse the heat you feel by taking a large sip of your drink. The alcohol helps, but the warmth in your cheeks becomes noticeable.
Your friends continue to chat peacefully, you're relieved to see that no one has noticed this little exchange with Jungkook, with the exception of Hani of course, her smile speaks clearly.
You try to focus on Tae and Hobi's talk, but they're talking about some modifications their mechanics made to their bikes for the race, details too mechanical for your alcohol-clouded mind.
Hani's smile is different now when you look at her, and the tilt of her head confuses you further.
"Here he is, the champion graces us with his presence!"
Hobi says all of a sudden.
You realize that Hani was trying to let you know that Jungkook was on his way.
He stops next to you and it's strange to meet him in a context other than the gym. You felt more or less the same feeling when he gave you that lift that evening, but now you have the opportunity to see another aspect of his person and the way he is dressed is proof of that.
Jungkook seems like an outgoing and sociable guy when it comes to training his members at the gym. As you watch him now though, he seems slightly embarrassed, keeping his hands inside the pockets of his baggy jeans.
Tae takes Jungkook's arm as he responds to Hobi's statement "Technically, I'm not the champion yet."
“Will you let us win any races this year?” Tae asks in a teasing tone.
Jungkook tries to free himself from Tae's grip by pinching his side. "Ouch." Tae chuckles, placing a hand on the pinched spot, while Jungkook rearranges his hair, moving it away from his face.
"It's not my fault that Ducky is the fastest bike on the track."
"Ducky?"
You ask out of curiosity, before you even realize.
Tae and Hobi start giggling in the background as Jungkook's gaze falls on you. He appears surprised by the question, as if he thought you knew. Then, he seems to remember that he never spoke about his bike nor his races with you and his expression changes.
"My Ducati." he replies, playing with his piercing, a habit you think comes when he's pondering or embarrassed.
"Did you give your bike a name?"
Jungkook tells you that many people give their bikes a nickname, explaining that the reason he chose Ducky it's due to the similar sound with Ducati.
You smile in recognition that Jungkook definitely looks like an intimidating and strong guy, but that you became aware of a more thoughtful and playful part of him starting from the night he brought you home on his motorbike. Even this small detail about the moto's name fits perfectly with the Jungkook that you got to know till now.
An interesting mix that is also reflected in the ducati he rides.
“It's cute, I think it suits her!” You chuckle softly.
You notice something in Jungkook's eyes, but it doesn't last long due to Tae's comment.
"No please, don't tell me that you also think it's a suitable name for a motorbike!"
Tae babbles distraught, while Hobi laughs loudly, shaking his head.
"Look who's talkin, the one who called his bike Sonic!"
Jungkook huffs mockingly, rolling his eyes. 
The bickering that takes place in front of you makes you laugh lightly, Hani and Hobi join you as Tae fiercely retorts.
"At least it's related! And it's blue like Sonic! Your bike is not even yellow!"
“Wow bro, so original!”
Jungkook pretends to be overly impressed by his friend's explanation. Tae gulps down the last sip of beer while he wraps his arm around Hani.
"And by the way, have you ever seen a duck run? Those tiny little things are pretty fast!" Jungkook concludes.
At this, even Tae bursts out laughing, almost spitting out the beer from his nose. Everyone has seen at least once in their lifetime a video about little ducks chasing their mother or caregiver. Jungkook evidently emerges victorious from the argument, he chuckles along with all of you and the moment couldn't be more wholesome than this, you think.
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The evening unfolds like this, next to the bar, with laughter and some small bickering between the three guys. You notice from time to time that Jungkook's eyes wander towards you while he speaks and he catches you looking at him sometimes as well.
The alcohol in your system definitely doesn't help make it any less evident.
"Another round? It's on me this time." Hobi shakes his empty beer, starting to move towards the bar when Jungkook stops him by placing a hand on his shoulder
"Just a coke for me, please."
Hobi nods as he appears to reply something like, "I know" before smiling tight-lipped at him.
You watch Jungkook's profile the entire time as he smiles back at Hobi before letting him walk towards the bar.
He looks like one of those smiles that takes over his lips when you catch his mind wandering, back at the gym.
A light smile that seems to hide something more.
When Jungkook turns back to bring his attention back to the conversation in progress, your eyes meet for the umpteenth time and his weak smile widens into a smirk.
He leans towards you slightly, while Tae and Hani continue to discuss something you don't quite listen to and his face gets dangerously close to yours.
“Are you going to keep looking at me all night?”
Jungkook speaks close to your ear, he doesn't whisper but he still makes sure you're the only one to hear him.
The sudden closeness of his body allows your nostrils to immediately capture his scent, the one you've had on you thanks to his motorcycle jacket and as the memory of that evening returns to your slightly alcohol-influenced mind, you smile mischievously.
“How can you say I'm looking at you all the time?”
Jungkook shifts his head slightly so he can look at you better as he says
"Because every time I look at you your eyes are already looking at me,"
You sigh, his voice far too calm to cause such turmoil within you. You try to ignore his usual attempt to make you blush, failing miserably when he continues, “You look like you want something.”
This man right here, damn. He knows, you know he knows the effect he has on you. It's clear.
You feel hotter but you manage to retort.
"And what about you? Why are you looking at me so often?"
The liquid courage you have in your body is enough to make you ask straight away, basking in the feeling of his body so close to yours.
Jungkook's eyes watch you intently and a gleam of amusement adorns his deep irises.
He moistens his lips and the movement of his tongue doesn't escape your gaze, but right as he is about to answer your question, Hobi returns, but empty-handed.
“Sorry guys,” Hobi interjects, his face darkened with worry compared to earlier. "Some problem came up with the registration documents and they asked me to help check." He says hastily as he apologizes once again.
Tae offers to go with him and solve the problem at hand but Hobi shakes his head,
"There is no need, I don't want you to ruin your night with bureaucratic bullshit. See you on the track tomorrow! It was nice meeting you Y/N!
"Pleasure is mine Hobi!"
You reply, giving him a smile.
As you watch him go, you realize that you have just met this boy, and yet you feel that you have made the acquaintance of a genuinely beautiful person.
It's so rare nowadays.
“So guys,” Hani exclaims loudly, catching everyone's attention.
"Tae and I are planning a relaxing ride next Sunday."
Jungkook nods.
"Where were you guys thinking of going?"
You watch your friends discuss the details of the itinerary and realize that you're actually considered part of the trip only when you notice that at the idea of the four of you going on a ride together, Jungkook seems relaxed, almost as if it were obvious to take you around on his beloved Ducky. Maybe your mind is wandering a little too much, but it makes you blush a little.
“It can be done, as long as Y/N agrees.”
The pronunciation of your name draws your attention, refocusing you on the group.
"Mh?
"I said if you feel like getting the necessary moto gear, we can go."
Jungkook repeats, Hani and Tae are looking at you as you try to seriously focus on organizing the aforementioned ride.
"Yes, no problem, but I don't know where to buy what I need."
"I'll take you to the store where I bought mine!"
Hani exclaims with a smile.
“I can get you some gloves but as far as helmet and jacket, make sure you get stuff that's the right size for you.”
You shake your head, saying that you will take care of getting everything you need with Hani.
"Oh, yeah I forgot how small your hands are, it's definitely better if you try them on at the store."
Jungkook evidently can never stop himself from teasing you.
His comment causes a mischievous smile on Tae's face and a very satisfied one on Jungkook's.
Hani purses her lips, trying to hold back a laugh, or whatever she was about to say.
Your eyes roll in mock annoyance as you playfully push Jungkook.
"Okay, it's decided then!"
States Hani, who sports a satisfied smile as she continues, “Oh, I forgot something in the car! Come on Tae.”
She grabs Tae's hand and before you can even point it out, he anticipates you by saying, "But you came in an Uber!"
Hani glares at him, "Just come."
Jungkook laughs, shaking his head at the obvious attempt to leave you two alone, while you watch them go in disbelief and slight embarrassment. You want to curse her, but you know it's what you really want too. You want time alone with him, you want to take advantage of the courage you feel inside this evening to understand a little more this tattooed and lip-pierced mystery.
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The dance floor is full and you can no longer see the bartender behind the bar due to how many people are waiting to receive their drinks.
You don't even remember the last time you attended a party like this, the only thing that comes to mind when you think about it is Ray almost causing a fight with a guy who mistook you for his friend, the fight that came of it once you left the party and the tears you shed because of his sharp words, is the only memory of that last party you attended.
You return your gaze to Jungkook as anger and sadness from past events threaten to make their way onto your face.
There is no need to dwell on the past, past parties are in the past, Ray is not here and nothing stops you from enjoying the evening and putting off your worries about your ex and his passive aggressive messages until tomorrow.
Jungkook watches the dancing crowd, moving his head to the beat of the music as he's leaning against the wall.
You admire him so much, he always seems to have everything under control, no matter the shadow that darkens his face every now and then, he seems to always manage to return to reality and enjoy the little things.
"Want to dance?" You don't give your shyness time to reconsider the invitation that the words have already left your mouth. You hold out your hand as you invite him to join you. 
He looks at your hand briefly before replying with a soft smile, “Why not.” and join his hand to yours.
You clasp your hand around his and lead him through the crowd.
You feel boldness fill you, you hadn't even considered the possibility that he might refuse and happy that he didn't, you reach a spot that isn't too crowded, the volume of the music is louder here and you feel the effect on your skin as your heart follows its own rhythm.
Thanks to what you drank and the need to let yourself go at least for tonight, you let your body feel the music.
His movements are loose and yours adapt to his almost immediately. Jungkook watches you the entire time, paying attention to every movement of your body, as if he wants to imprint them in his mind for later.
When you look up and meet his gaze, this time you hold it, smiling mischievously before turning your back on him.
You continue to dance filled with a wave of audacity, your every movement is seductive for him, who can't take his eyes off of you.
The line of your back is far too attractive to keep at a distance so, all of a sudden, you feel Jungkook's body move closer to yours.
The closeness causes a leap in your chest, but what he says is the cause of the heightened blush on your face.
You feel like your cheeks are perpetually burning because of him.
"What happened to the super shy girl who showed up at the gym a while ago?"
His voice is almost a whisper as you feel his face close to your ear.
You tilt your head back, resting it on his shoulder before answering confidently.
"She has learned to dare more." and with that, you decide to lean against his body completely.
Fuck shyness, fuck fears and comfort zones. If tomorrow you have to deal with the consequences of Ray's reappearance, you want to enjoy this one night to the fullest.
You hear Jungkook chuckle softly as a tentative hand finds its place on your hip.
He caresses you flat and softly from your hip up, his palm just grazing the edge of your bra as you wonder what it might be like without your clothes in between.
"It's clear that you're not that shy tonight, either."
You retort as you roll your hips against his. You feel his hand get slightly heavier on your hip as he presses you gently until your body is completely attached to his.
His other hand reaches for your shoulder and brushes your hair away to reveal your neck.
The gesture causes heat in your lower abdomen, you swallow unconsciously at the unexpected reaction of your body. Maybe it's been too long since someone touched you like this or maybe it's the power that Jeon Jungkook has over your body now, but you feel that at this rate you run the risk of melting in his arms.
“What makes you say that, princess?”
His breath tickles you as he whispers the words directly into your skin. His lips don't even touch you once and you wish they would.
You push your hips against his a little more as you continue to move languidly. His fingers mindlessly caress the curve of your neck and you close your eyes as you enjoy the feeling.
“The way you're touching me now.”
You reply in a small voice as your hand reaches for the one resting on your hip,
you hold it as if it might disappear if you don't.
You shiver slightly when his hot breath teases the thin skin of your exposed neck again and the grip of his hand under yours grows more and more.
“I can do more and better, wouldn't you like that?”
You feel the effect of your movements directly against your butt and it gives you even more confidence.
You feel completely intoxicated by his touch, nothing to do with the alcohol that undoubtedly contributed to you finding yourself in this situation, everything you are feeling now is the work of his touch, of his body against yours and of his words.
You're dying to fuck him, to feel his hands all over your naked body as he whispers dirty things in your ear. But at the same time you don't want this to ruin your friendship, you don't want there to be misunderstandings between you. You can always enjoy the pleasures of sex without unnecessary feelings being involved, right?
You don't feel ready yet and you hope Jungkook is of the same opinion as you, that he also wants to have sex with you without strings attached.
You spin around and your hands rest on his broad shoulders. You look at him for a moment, his eyes dark and full of longing as you whisper in his ear, "As long as it's the only thing you want too."
When you look back at him to decipher his reaction, you notice that Jungkook initially seems surprised by your statement, then a pleased smile forms on his plump lips and his hands suddenly become bolder, moving down from your hips to the small of your back. You barely hold back a moan when you feel the hardness of his member and the firmness of his hands on you.
Jungkook holds you close and you don't know when exactly your bodies stopped following the rhythm of the music. He firmly squeezes one of your buttock while you caress the locks of his nape.
You watch him move closer to your neck once again and this time, you feel his wet lips brush against you just below your ear.
"Are you really the first girl I don't have to give the usual speech to? Am I dreaming?"
His deep voice reaches the parts of your body that you never thought would be affected by a simple voice.
"What speech?" You sigh when you feel his hands move up your back.
"The one that makes my intentions clear."
Jungkook looks back at you, as if wanting to make sure he hasn't misunderstood anything.
"It seems we want the same thing, then."
You state in a rush, feeling the places he touches completely on fire.
"Do we?"
Jungkook tilts his head slightly as he holds you impossibly tighter. You feel completely enveloped by the warmth of his body when his thigh slides and finds its place between your legs.
A soft moan escapes your lips and it seems to trigger something in him, you hear him breathe deeply before asking in a low voice.
“What do you want, Y/N?”
From the tone of his voice it is clear that he knows what you want, he simply wants you to confess it freely.
His thigh twitches between your legs, rubbing just right against the place you want it the most.
You follow its movements, completely enraptured by the sensations you are experiencing.
There is no room for shame right now in your mind clouded by the burning desire for him.
The only thing you can think about is his leg repeatedly teasing your clit and the caresses of his hands along your back.
Your hands tremble slightly with pleasure as they involuntarily grasp the strands falling at the nape of his neck.
Jungkook hisses through his teeth but doesn't resist, in fact he seems to like this little gesture from you.
You look at him for a moment and his adam's apple is so inviting that you can't resist the temptation.
You move his head to the side to get more access and lick the surface up to his jaw.
You would continue to enjoy this lewd moment as long as it lasted.
You thought you would tease each other for a while and then go back to your friends, but no.
Jungkook is just as involved as you are.
The groan that vibrates in his throat reached a part of your brain that is now completely short-circuited.
"I want to fuck you."
The words come out with frightening ease and are enough to make Jungkook look back at you through lidded eyes.
“And I don't want anything more than that.”
You know you're not ready to take that leap, but the uncertainty hidden in your voice reaches somewhere in your chest.
It hurts something when you watch him smile widely at your latest statement.
A fleeting pain, overtaken by the strong desire caused by the hardness of his member, throbbing against your thigh.
“Yeah, we definitely want the exact same thing.”
It was already quite clear, but hearing you say it is something else.
Jungkook moves away from you, leaving your body to the cold void his hands left. 
Then, he grabs your hand, leading you past the crowd and towards the other side of the place.
You look around, convinced he wants to take you to the bathrooms, but you realize that with every step you take, you are getting closer to the locker's room.
"Where are we going?"
You ask loudly, as Jungkook continues his zig zag through the people holding your hand.
"At my place." he answers.
“I thought you wanted to do it in the bathroom, haven't you been drinking?”
You know that driving under the influence of alcohol is a terrible idea.
Jungkook stops in his tracks for a moment noticing your hesitation in continuing and you hear him chuckle before answering.
"I shared a joint before," he looks into your eyes, as you inspect them, "And then, you saw me drinking a cola, I don't drink alcohol."
Jungkook continues to look at you, though his eyes avoid yours now, lingering on your lips.
You want to ask him more but before you can, he leans in close to you to whisper, making your legs tremble in anticipation.
“Besides, why would I take you to a public bathroom when I can make you scream in the comfort of my own bed?”
He knows all too well that he has the upper hand and is taking advantage of it.
Damn Jeon Jungkook and the effect he has on you.
The heat spreads again in your belly and when you look at him you just want to bite that plump lip, tease his piercing and let that mocking smile get lost in moans of pleasure.
“Or maybe you feel more comfortable doing it at yours?”
His tone of voice lacks malice this time, after all, you have now understood that Jungkook is a caring person and therefore he wants to avoid making you feel uncomfortable.
You nod and smile at his consideration.
"At mine."
Jungkook tightens his hand around yours again, smirking.
You quickly reach the exit after collecting your things from the lockers.
And there she is, Ducky.
You will climb on her for the second time, soon there will even be a third, you can't help but smile at the thought.
Strange how different reasons are leading you to get on a motorbike so often, not that this is a complaint, far from it.
You tremble at the thought of experiencing certain sensations once again, this time even, with the prospect of sleeping with Jungkook.
He invites you to wear his gear once again, but you strenuously refuse to deprive him of his jacket this time. Even though he was annoyed at first, Jungkook had to give in to your determination.
December cold is unforgiving.
In order to compromise, you wear his helmet, unable to argue with its importance.
You reach your apartment complex after a while, Jungkook was driving the entire time at a speed well under the legal limit, allowing you to hug his body to shield yourself from the cold as much as possible.
Once you reach the building's underground parking lot, you get off Ducky and take off the helmet to hand it to him. You smile brightly and hear Jungkook chuckle to himself as he shakes his head.
"You really like to ride, huh?"
You look at him while he's fixing his disheveled hair and it's a vision that you didn't think could affect you so much.
You think Jungkook would look sexy even wearing a battered potato sack, but seeing him in these clothes, you think, will always turn you on.
“Oh trust me, I love riding Ducky, but I can't wait to ride you.”
You haven't felt this lustful for someone in a while.
Surely the drinks you had before are not supporting you to keep certain thoughts to yourself.
Jungkook sighs visibly impressed by your bluntness and you could swear you heard him curse.
"Can't wait for you to show me."
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Seeing Jungkook now, in the flesh, inside your apartment is something.
You watch as he places his helmet near the entrance door and places his jacket on top of it before taking off his shoes.
As you do the same, taking off your coat and shoes to put them away, he looks around, taking in the appearance of your apartment. 
The foyer is small but well arranged, with a large mirror and a shoe rack right beside it.
You lead the way to reach your couch in the living room and as you walk, his eyes land on some of your latest sketches scattered around on a counter, one of it appears to be a pair of boxing gloves and he finds himself chuckling like an idiot.
As you do the same, taking off your coat and shoes to put them away, he looks around, taking in the appearance of your apartment. 
The foyer is small but well arranged, with a large mirror and a shoe rack right beside it and the little hallway that connects your entrance to your living area is decorated with pictures, plants and some of your favorite sketches.
You lead the way to reach your couch in the living room and as he walks behind you, his eyes land on some of your latest sketches scattered around on the counter of your kitchen, one of it appears to be a pair of boxing gloves and he finds himself chuckling like an idiot.
"Why are you laughing?"
You're puzzled by his sudden reaction. 
"I like your apartment, it fits your vibe."
He answers quietly and you smile shyly in appreciation, suggesting him to make himself comfortable on the couch.
"Want something to drink?
 You ask him, walking behind the counter to reach your fridge.
"Just water, thanks." 
He replies as he sits comfortably. You get some fresh water and when you get back you offer him the glass.
Jungkook sips from it and you join him on the couch.
Your heart always beats so fast in his presence that by now you're almost getting used to the constant hustle and bustle in your chest.
"You really don't like alcohol."
You say lightheartedly as you gather your legs up on the couch and turn to face him.
You curse your damn mouth when you realize that your comment made Jungkook tense up.
You just wanted to make him feel comfortable but before you can think of something to recover, Jungkook takes another sip of water before replying in a low voice.
"Yeah. I prefer weed, even though I rarely smoke anymore."
His eyes look at you for a brief moment, dark as pitch or a moonless sky.
They then move to the coffee table in front of you to put the glass down.
"I'd say you don't need it anyway. You don't need it to boost your confidence, like me."
Something moves in his eyes when you say this. His hand on your thigh pulls your attention away.
You watch it as it lays on your thigh softly. 
The tone of his voice, his firm aversion to alcohol and his troubled eyes makes you ponder, but you can't formulate any sentence that doesn't risk making him even more gloomy.
Jungkook taught you many things in the gym, undoubtedly to throw good punches, but also to have courage in general, to dare and not to let fears stop you.
He was able to free that part of you that you have always adored, the one that made you achieve your most ambitious goals, despite having to sacrifice a healthy relationship with your family.
And he was able to get you there, easily, without even having to tell you openly what to do.
Despite his tacit support helped you regain a little confidence, you feel like he doesn't need the same. Like he needs you to voice your thoughts with him, even if it's not always as easy as after a few drinks on your system. 
You've always sensed that something keeps him anchored to a remote island in the back of his mind and you don't want him to take refuge there right now.
"You are right,"
Your voice is sweet, it matches his from earlier and with one movement you lift yourself, moving one leg to take it beyond his.
You sit on his thighs and place your hands gently on his shoulders.
Jungkook looks at you smugly and pleasantly surprised and you're happy to notice that island receding in the mirror of his eyes.
They slowly fill with lust for you, as they observe your body so close to his.
“Even though I drank a little, I'm sober enough to say that everything I did tonight, I've always wanted to do.”
Jungkook feels the weight of your body and the weight of your words right on his.
You're sitting directly on his growing member and his hands find their place on your hips as he pulls you closer.
“Wait until you see what I've always wanted to do to you.”
With that, his mouth takes over your neck.
He tastes your skin like he's finally testing a drop of water after a walk in the desert and you're the only source he wants to put his mouth on.
You moan as you tilt your head to let him taste you as he pleases.
Jungkook takes the opportunity to bite you a little, leaving a small blush on your skin and licking it to soothe the stinging spot.
You try to control yourself as his hands venture up your back.
“You have a condom on you?” You whisper all of a sudden.
Jungkook keeps kissing your neck, hesitantly moving one hand from your body only to pull a condom out of his back pocket.
He hands it to you and then grabs the hem of your sweater, stopping his assault to help you take it off. A shiver runs up your spine, realizing you're now in your bra in front of him, the cool air of the room brushes against your hot skin and his hands promptly return to your hips and back.
You squeeze the little silver package between your fingers as he pulls your body against him, your hips move almost automatically as you feel his member getting harder and harder. And in return you get wetter and wetter.
You're a complete mess in his arms as you buck your hips, panting slightly at every movement.
When his hands press you more against him, a loud moan leaves your lips and with it, the last bit of restraint you had.
You grab the hem of his sweatshirt, urgently undressing him.
"Someone is impatient." He chuckles breathlessly as he lets you undress him.
"Your fault." You reply as you move to undo his jeans.
"Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?"
The aroused expression on your face is something he hopes to keep in mind for as long as possible.
You drop down to help him take off his jeans completely and Jungkook remains in his black Calvin Klein briefs. The outline of his hard member held with difficulty in the confines of the fabric, making you salivate at its sight.
You stand up and take the opportunity to remove your pants in front of him, while his gaze is glued to you.
If his eyes could touch, you would feel their stroke everywhere right now, like a dry brush on a virgin canvas.
They eagerly study every single curve, every movement you do is carefully followed as you reveal your panties and legs to him.
“You're so hot Y/N…”
You hear him breathing heavily and only after adding your pants to the pile of clothes do you turn back to look him in the eyes.
He's touching himself through his underwear at the sight of your body and despite everything that already happened, you're still blushing.
You are engulfed in the flames of pleasure, yet the blush on your cheeks is caused by something deeper.
You ignore this thought immediately, setting aside that thing that tries to push to make itself some space and focus on the need that screams between your legs instead.
You climb on top of him again, leaning on his shoulders.
"Jungkook,"
You whisper in his ear, looking him in the eyes right now would mean exposing yourself too much, paradoxically.
What a strange contradiction though.
You're already almost completely naked in front of him, but the idea of letting him look you in the eyes while you say the next words makes you feel too vulnerable.
"If we do this, I want us to agree on a few things."
As you try to regain your courage, you lick his neck, moving down towards his collarbone to reach his pectorals.
"I'm listening."
He sighs as he lets his head go back, as if wanting to give you total access to him, basking in the feelings your tongue is giving.
Jungkook is completely engrossed, he seems to enjoy every little thing without thinking too much while you're struggling to let yourself go completely.
The friendship that has developed between you over these months is something you care about and you wouldn't want to ruin it for simple sex.
Even if you're dying to enjoy these moments you've been craving, you're afraid of ruining everything.
"We're just friends who are going to fuck, right?"
You ask tentatively as you continue to leave a trail of saliva with your tongue and lips across his toned chest.
"No awkwardness after."
You're not sure why you're saying this when you can't even look him in the eyes right now, but at the same time you're saying it precisely to not let your fear stop you.
Maybe you're just trying to convince yourself that nothing will change and that you can let yourself go, or just to make sure you both are still on the same page, but Jungkook doesn't seem to notice your inner conflict right now, too distracted by your ministrations probably.
"This is not going to ruin our friendship if that's what you're worried about."
He states between breaths as he wraps a hand in the middle of your hair.
“The fact that we both know what we want from each other and what we don't, won't cause any problems, don't you think?”
He pulls your hair slightly to expose your neck, and you close your eyes unconsciously when you feel his lips on your skin once again.
"No awkwardness after."
His whisper makes you shiver with pleasure and almost as if you needed to have this confirmation from him, you open your eyes and move to finally be able to lower his underwear.
His penis rises free from the confines and you are a little surprised at the size. He throbs in front of you with the tip red and moist as you observe the succulent veins adorning its surface.
"So we're gonna be ride buddies and friends who fucked once."
Jungkook holds his legs open as you get on your knees in front of him to pull his briefs completely off.
"Let's see if you still want it to be once after I fuck you just right."
You smile sensing Jungkook's usual way of doing things, his classic way of provoking you while he smiles with confidence.
"Bold are we?"
You snicker as you pump your little fist around his shaft a couple of times.
He hisses.
"You've got the lead for now, wait and see when it's my turn."
He says through gritted teeth as he clearly tries not to give in to your touch too shamefully.
"We'll see."
You move closer, gently placing your lips on the side of his cock as you continue to move your hand slowly.
The intense teasing served to make him super responsive.
Jungkook squirms a little when you carefully spread his precum on the sensitive tip.
You hear as he tries to limit his sounds.
You look up momentarily when your mouth finally settles around his moistened tip, only to see his reaction.
Jungkook instinctively brings his head back and his mouth opens in a silent moan of pleasure.
He sighs heavily as his hands grip the fabric of the couch he's sitting on.
The vision of his naked body exposed to your will causes a shiver down your spine and with your free hand you move down until you reach the most sensitive part of your body.
You give yourself pleasure as you move your mouth and hand finding a rhythm that could be pleasant for him.
You listen carefully for any reaction that might let you know that you are doing the right thing as you keep your eyes closed, completely letting yourself go to the small sounds he makes.
When you twist your wrist slightly and let go of his cock with a pop to catch your breath, Jungkook lets out a throaty moan and he is breathing noticeably faster now.
You're so wet now that you think he could fit inside you without too much effort, you continue to tease your clit while jerking him off at the same speed.
You leave a trail of little kisses along his member, from the tip to the balls.
You look at him again and unexpectedly meet his gaze.
You feel your confidence waver for the briefest of moments when you notice his eyes looking at you intently.
His pierced lip is caught between his teeth as he breathes deeply through his nose.
He's trying in every way possible to block any sound that might come from his mouth and it's almost annoying to notice the effort he puts into it.
"Let me hear."
You say softly between small kisses.
“I want to know if I'm doing well or not.”
You tickle with your wet tongue from bottom to top, once again reaching the sensitive tip.
His cock throbs in your hand and you smirk satisfied.
You don't need to hear his moans to know that he's completely into it, but you still want to hear them because of you, it's almost a visceral need at this point.
"You're doing great,"
He responds in a deep voice.
He moves the hair that has fallen in front of your eyes with a finger as he tries to steady his breathing.
A soft gesture that makes your heart skip a beat, but you keep your focus on your movements.
Your hands continue to move in unison as you moan, kissing and licking his cock. You purposely avoid taking him fully into your mouth, teasing him every now and then when you feel the sounds getting stuck in his throat.
You feel pervaded by the power that these circumstances can give.
Jungkook watches you the whole time as you work on him and yourself.
He evidently noticed the effect his words had on you, his little praise gave you more confidence, allowing you to let go a little more.
Jungkook suddenly stops you by placing a hand on your shoulder just when you thought he was enjoying it a lot, or at least it seemed like that from his persistent and muffled groaning.
“Y/N, let me taste you please..”
You hear the desperation in his voice and you can see it in his face when you lean up to look at him, a little bit of saliva wetting your chin.
His eyes are completely dark, full of the longing that you know he can see in your eyes too.
He moves to stand up, forcing you back onto your feet before picking you up.
You yelp at the sudden motion, holding onto his neck for support as he helps you wrap your legs around his hips.
“Where is your bedroom?”
Jungkook asks as he latches onto your already battered neck.
"Down the hallway, second door on the right."
In no time, Jungkook transports you following your directions. He pushes the door open with his foot before entering and letting you lie on your soft bed.
He watches you bounce once on it, then looks you up and down with an unreadable look.
Being in your apartment, on your bed, almost completely naked in front of him, definitely makes you bolder, feeling more comfortable.
You just realized how far you've gone with him, that you can't go back now.
Not that you want to, honestly.
You observe him, majestic in front of you, the faint glow of the moon that leaks into the room illuminates his skin deliciously, accentuating every muscle of his toned body.
Your eyes do their best to capture every detail and imprint it in your memory.
Jungkook bends over you, caging your legs with his powerful arms.
You remain propped up on your forearms as your breathing becomes increasingly labored.
His hands rest at your sides and with a firm but delicate movement, he pulls you towards him.
He bends down to let his tongue leave a wet trail across your belly, to the edge of your panties.
The passage of his mouth so close to your core, feeds the fire in your belly.
"Can I?"
He asks softly as his thumbs hook your panties on both sides.
He looks at you, patiently waiting for your permission.
Or your refusal.
You see a hint of hesitation in his gaze, as if he doesn't want to go any further against your will.
You can feel this small detail slowly infiltrating under your skin. You feel it brings to the light something that you would have preferred to remain in the dark, especially in this moment.
Ray.
Why did he always assumed he could take everything without ever asking?
Why doesn't Jungkook take without asking?
These are questions you can't answer. Deep down you know you don't want them, that answers would only cause you more pain.
You swallow, trying to shut off the bitter taste of the past.
"Please…"
You can't say anything else, you whisper this simple word that encompasses everything you're feeling right now.
Please do it.
Please make me forget all the bad things for tonight.
Please take me.
His eyes light up and his skilled hands easily remove the fabric that covered your most intimate part.
Only now you do realize how uncomfortable and annoying the wet fabric you were wearing was.
You feel the cool air hit the moist and hot skin of your pussy and you sigh when his hands return to you after leaving the newly removed garment somewhere on the floor.
He gently places his hands on your thighs, spreading them just enough so he can observe your dripping wet pussy.
Seeing the glisten of your juices makes his blood burn in his veins.
You gasp when his soft lips lay on your clit.
Jungkook is humming delightedly, then he starts to kiss it with delicacy, allowing you to adapt to the stimulus while he lets his tongue tease you slowly.
You close your eyes and try to relax your legs.
His lips are more insistent, until he ends up making out with your soft wet pussy.
You can't hold back your moans and you lie down completely on the bed as you let him eat you out.
Just as you had done earlier, he maintains a slow but precise pace, as if he wants to take revenge for all the teasing and savor your flavor at the same time.
Unlike his, your moans follow one another and you can't stop yourself.
They gradually become stronger and more intense as Jungkook continues to make out with your pussy.
He holds your hips, soothing the skin right beneath his thumbs with circular motions.
It's a sensation you've never felt before, you feel your orgasm building slowly, so slowly that you almost think you'll lose it at any moment, only to change your mind when with precise movements you feel the pleasure accumulating, like waves that add to each other. One after another, before reaching the coast in one large, powerful wave.
He moves his tongue with a constant rhythm and when with a faint voice you warn him that you are about to come, surprisingly enough, Jungkook maintains the same rhythm, he doesn't speed up, he doesn't press his tongue more forcefully against your already very sensitive clit.
With pleasant surprise, you notice that he keeps this pace and it is clear that he knows what he is doing.
He doesn't go crazy trying to catch it, when he already knows where and how to find it.
The only difference is the intensity with which he makes out with your pussy, kissing and licking it passionately, drunk on your juices.
You moan louder as your body tenses more and more like a violin string, until with a delicate but firm movement of his tongue, your orgasm hits you violently.
With his gentle and precise gestures, you didn't expect such an intense and violent orgasm, your body writhes in ecstasy while a string of profanities and panting breaths leave your lips.
Your legs try to close as they tremble from the stimulation, but Jungkook firmly separates them again, enjoying the taste of you for a little longer. You hear him groan and at a quick glance you notice his frowning expression.
You whine from the overstimulation and it's the only signal that seems to stop him.
He pulls off while still remaining in front of your throbbing and swollen pussy and his labored breathing tickles you gently.
“Sorry,” he states, licking his shiny lips for a moment. “You taste so sweet I couldn't stop.”
You look at him while you feel a constant pounding in your chest and your breathing doesn't want to calm down.
His hair is disheveled, his cheeks are flushed and his eyebrows are still a little furrowed.
You prop yourself up on your elbows again, one hand reaching for his hair, letting it sink into its messy locks, as if wanting to tidy them up a bit.
"I wanna ride you now."
You state decisively and perhaps a little too pretentious, you add,
"Can I?"
Jungkook looks at you as he stands up, offers you a hand while you observe him in all his beauty, naked and with his erect member that you can't wait to welcome inside you.
Tonight you got to immortalize every detail of his body in your memory.
His totally tattooed arm, his sculpted body and his face, at times so sweet that you couldn't believe it is capable of contorting into those expressions of pleasure that you saw earlier.
You accept his hand and let him pull you onto him while he says "How can I say no when you ask it so nicely."
You smile mischievously and take the opportunity to accompany him, pushing him by the shoulders onto your bed.
Jungkook takes place where you were laying, he sinks into your sheets as he settles in.
You reach him with your legs still shaking and climb up until you're almost sitting on his thighs.
You pick up the condom that you had previously abandoned on the bed next to you, but before you can open it to let him put it on, you can't resist the temptation to put your mouth back on his inviting cock.
You give a provocative lick, spreading your saliva all over the surface you trace and you understand how much he too wants to finally be able to feel you when his hips suddenly move upwards.
"Fuck-"
You continue to lick slowly for a few moments while you stimulate him a little with your hand.
When you look at him, he's already looking at you and it doesn't surprise you, his mouth is slightly open as he tries to regulate his breathing.
He looks so sexy right now, you can see in his expression the immense heat burning in his irises. The need he feels to possess you.
"Stop teasing me."
His voice is strained and his face speaks clearly: if you continue like this he won't resist much longer, he can't wait to see you jump on his cock.
The mere look in his eyes makes you clench your walls in anticipation and with a little effort you finally get him to wear the condom.
You move to finally be able to position yourself on his erect member and begin to lower yourself. A shiver runs through your limbs, the small tingling you feel as he penetrates you is almost immediately replaced by pleasure.
Jungkook is big, but you're so wet that he can slide inside you with ease.
You support yourself with your hands on his chest as you close your eyes to fully enjoy the sensations you're feeling. You continue to move down until you are completely seated on him. You feel full, his hands resting on your hips and squeezing you lightly.
When you reopen your eyes, you look at him and get lost for an infinite moment in front of what you see.
Jungkook looks at you through eyes half closed in pleasure, he's been looking at you the entire time, as if the scene in front of him is the key to understanding the entire movie.
If memory had any capacity, this moment would take up most of the space in Jungkook's mind for a long time to come.
After a few moments, you feel like you've gotten used to his girth and can finally move up and down.
Despite your legs still shaking from your previous orgasm, you manage to move at an increasing pace.
You moan without caring about the sounds you make, music to Jungkook's ears as he lets you do what you want with him, accompanying your movements with his hands.
You move messily as your legs start losing strength. You alternate your motions by rubbing your clit on him, moaning loudly when you feel your little sensitive nub stimulated like this and the squelching sound of your pussy fills the room. 
Jungkook hastily moves his hands behind your back, pulling at your bra to unclasp it. He doesn't take it off of you completely though, finding it more sexy the way he jumps up and down following your movements. 
"Fuck yes.."
He groans as he watches hypnotized your breasts bouncing out of your bra.
Then he tilts his head back onto your pillow as his arms flex with the motions of your body.
You bounce on his cock the best you can, tracing the side of his throat with your thumb, right above a little red spot you sucked on his skin.
The vision is enchanting.
The sounds he makes, addicting.
You're breathless, the muscles of your legs are burning from the effort but you keep bouncing and humping as you feel you're close to the second orgasm of the night.
"I-I'm clo-"
You're so close to the point of no return but suddenly, your legs are failing you and just like that, you tiredly collapse on his body.
Jungkook is quick to react, grabbing your hips tight enough to support you and adjust his position under you as he starts to thrust up.
Your moans are broken by every thrust as he diligently hammers your pussy up just right.
"You're so hot Y/N. So fucking hot."
He groans softly, pulling you impossibly closer.
You feel strange, like you're burning alive and flying at the same time.
You comfortably lay on his body as you let him lead you to the peak of your pleasure, licking and kissing his neck and ear lobe in the meantime.
"Fuck yes- yes!"
You moan his name as the fire explodes all of a sudden and the extreme pleasure you've built till now, crushes hard on you. And just like that, you feel your legs shake and your head light like a leaf blown by a gentle breeze.
Jungkook's thrusts slow down a little, milking your orgasm slowly till the very end. He only stops when you start whimpering, knowing you're probably super sensitive right now.
He pulls out and you whine to the feeling of emptiness, your walls slightly pulsing as you already miss the sensation of his cock deep inside of you.
"Are you ok?"
He asks you as he tries to stabilize his breathing.
Your body is still glued to his, your breathing is as ragged as his and you let the beating sound of his heart soothe you for a moment longer before you nod.
You slowly get up hissing a little and you look at him.
"Cum on me."
There's no longer space for filters and your brain is so fucked out that it doesn't even care how needy you sound right now. Even after your two orgasms. 
You're craving his touch, his sinful sounds, and you wanna know what it feels like to have his cum on your skin.
He smiles amused, chuckling a little.
"Yeah? And where do you want me to cum?"
His voice is husky and you feel your body reacting to that.
You buck your hips on his cock, blocking it between you and his stomach. 
Are you even sane right now? Did he fuck you out of your own brain?
"On my ass."
Yes, you're totally gone.
You're totally gone for this man.
You watch him as you keep moving on him, you see he swallows a moan as your wet pussy keeps rubbing on his member.
"Aren't you sensitive right now?"
He asks lowly.
"I can handle it."
You sit up, your battered pussy is still recovering from two orgasms but you know you can take it and you just want to show him how badly you still want him inside of you.
He laughs mischievously, looking at your fucked out beautiful face with pride.
"Lie on your belly for me, then."
You willingly obey, throwing your bra out of the way completely and resting your figure on your belly, just as he asked.
You can't see him from this position, you only feel his hand reach for your leg, bending it so that you're able to turn a little to the side.
He now has the possibility to keep looking at your body from this perspective. He has your ass, the side of your breast and your face at his mercy and he can't wait to enjoy your every expression from here.
"Stop me if it's too much."
You feel the weight of his firm body lay on you as he whispers, and when you turn your head to nod you meet his face, dangerously close to yours that you can feel his hot breath caressing you.
You're spread under him, fresh out from the two orgasms he just gave you and totally naked, yet there it is, the look you wanted to avoid earlier, the one you knew would make you feel really, really vulnerable. 
The mixture of his cares, his soft voice and his piercing dark eyes are sending danger signals to your brain as it feeds something deep in your chest.
You try to escape, diverting your eyes from the magnetism of his by nodding.
Jungkook pulls a little away, positioning himself right at your entrance.
You can hear him spit and the next thing you feel is his lubricated cock slowly pushing in.
You never felt like this, never had multiple orgasms and still wanted to fuck. The sensitivity is still there, you feel the heat spreading to your nerves as he slowly but surely bottoms up.
It's only when he starts moving that you feel a peak in your pleasure, like he is able to touch all the right spots at once.
He finds a rhythm, grabbing the flesh of your ass and pulling you to meet his hips.
Your breath is irregular, just like his, and you start pushing your palm on the sheets as every thrust is pushing you up the bed.
Jungkook has a better idea though.
He lets go of your ass completely as he swiftly grabs your arm and blocks it behind your back.
Feeling restrained like this by him causes a moan to escape your throat, followed by another one when he uses your arm as a grip instead of your ass to keep you in place.
"You like that huh"
He says through gritted teeth, the angle allows him to see the profile of your face as he fucks you hard and steady. 
Your sweet innocent face, contorted in pleasure is an ethereal vision to his eyes.
And the fact that it's him causing you to feel this good, makes him feral.
You say yes a couple of times between your moans and heavy breaths.
He speeds up his pace a little more, always cautious of your reactions, not wanting you to feel any discomfort.
But what he hears from you next is what makes his balls tighten dangerously.
"Slap my ass, please-"
Your voice is broken but firm as you say it and something about it makes him go completely insane.
Perhaps the "please" part, or the way in which you're voicing your desire right now, mixed with your sweet moans and submissiveness.
He slaps his free hand onto your buttock hard enough to sting, and listens to the smacking sound and the throaty moan you let out resonate in his ears.
"Oh fuck-"
He lets out, pure ecstasy laced in his raspy voice as he soothes your skin.
His thrusts are becoming sloppier, more erratic, and he's louder than before as he's chasing his own orgasm now.
You're addicted to the sounds he makes during sex, that's clear by now. Every time a throaty moan escapes his lips, you wish you could record it and use it when you'll be alone.
Suddenly, he frees your arm and pulls out. You assume he's taking off the condom as you try to regain some strength to push your hair away and look at him over your shoulder. 
You watch him pumping fast his cock as his free hand strokes the reddened skin of your ass.
His eyes are shut tightly and you keep watching him moan loudly as spurs of his hot cum land on your ass.
He keeps pumping till the last drop then he slaps his cock on your cum covered skin and you've never seen something hotter than what just happened.
When he comes down from his orgasm, he smirks at you, tired and satisfied.
You chuckle softly, covering your face with your arm without even noticing.
“Fuck, that was-”
"Amazing. Yes"
It was, it was indeed amazing.
He finishes your sentence in a small voice as he tries to steady his ragged breathing, still remaining where he is.
You feel his hot seed slowly dripping down your skin and when your breath is stable enough you move to the side of the bed to get up.
“I'm gonna take a quick shower, if you don't mind.”
you say, moving to get to your bathroom.
“Not at all, go ahead.”
When your shower is over and you feel refreshed and relaxed, you return to your room with only a robe covering you, your skin still a little damp under the fabric of the robe.
Surprisingly you find him fully dressed, you sure didn't expect him to stay longer but you at least wanted him to take a shower before leaving.
"Are you sure you don't wanna take a shower too?"
You ask him as you approach.
"Yeah don't worry." you watch him as he brushes his hair out of his face and fixes his clothes.
You remain silent after that, it feels strange and a little heavy.
Should you ask him to stay? 
Will it be awkward from now on? 
Was it a mistake from the beginning?
You don't want him to think you're kind of kicking him out. The unhealthy overthinking starts pestering you and you don't even notice you've walked with him to the door of your apartment.
He gathers his helmet and jacket from the floor and turns to you with a little smile.
"I better go. Don't want Ducky to get jealous."
It makes you laugh lightly and you can't keep yourself from playfully rolling your eyes at him.
It's still him, the Jungkook that loves to tease you and makes silly jokes.
You probably needed this to get back on earth and realize that you should stop overthinking.
"Oh! Of course we don't want that!"
You emphasize and your fake concern makes him chuckle. 
It won't be awkward from now on after all.
You open the door for him and when he comes out he zips up his jacket, ready to leave.
"Let me know when you're going to the shop to get your gear."
He smiles, one of those smiles that make the drums go crazy in your chest.
"I will. Drive safe."
And for a moment you smile at each other, probably knowing that from this exact moment, it won't be easy to keep your hands away from each other.
Tonight marked an important step for you, not only the boost of confidence that you sported, but you can tell with certainty that your past is still bothering you, from time to time, but it doesn't have your present in its claws.
The decisions you made tonight could bring you to another disappointment, to another loss. Especially when this sensation on your chest keeps going off almost as a reminder, telling you 'Hey, in case you didn't notice, I'm right here!'
It will probably pass if you just ignore it…
It will go away as fast as it came… Right?
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glimmervoi · 20 hours
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A SEALED FATE: EMERALDS AND BLOOD - VI The Beginning of the Winter Ball
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notes: phew, that took forever for me to write ;-; i was really struggling with this one and Idk why because i was so excited to write it when i left off at the last chapter. oh well, it's up now - i hope you all enjoy it!! cant wait to get the next chapter up :D
The winter ball was a beautiful and lively event, full of laughter and music. It was a gathering that everyone in the kingdom wished to attend. Guests from all over the Kingdom waltzed around in beautiful, sparkling gowns and suits made by the best tailors that could be hired. 
The ballroom, now finally finished and filled with these beautiful guests, was just as mesmerizing. The musicians positioned near the center of the room played a merry song as the guests excitedly mingled and sipped from thin, long stemmed glasses full of pale sparkling wine. 
The ball was just beginning, and already you were impressed. Of course, you were more alarmed at the fact that you were even witnessing it, but it was truly a sight for someone who grew up in such a poor village.
You weren’t supposed to be serving at the ball tonight. You had been told by Rae that the service maids would be handling it, and that you would have the night off. You had been relieved, and had promptly made plans to visit the stables to finally see if you could find the man that you had met days prior. 
You were almost certain that he was a stableboy from the way he was dressed, although when you had mentioned the handsome man to Rae, she hadn’t remembered anyone by that description. Still, you had to at least check.
He had been on your mind ever since your first meeting, and you had found yourself constantly craving that electric, bubbly feeling that had filled you when he was around. Your plans to go to the stables had been crushed as soon as you had entered the maids chambers to change though, as Sanria had been waiting for you.
An hour later, and you were standing in the small kitchen adjacent to the ballroom, looking through the open door at the guests as they laughed and enjoyed themselves.
Sanria had already left to return to her own duties, promising you a painful beating with the thin wooden rod that she kept tucked in her apron if you made any mistakes or pissed off Iseul, the head of the service maids.
Iseul, though not as intimidating as Sanria, was still not someone who you wished to anger. The young, raven haired woman had a deep frown on her lips, and her thin frame was tensed as if she were prepared to yell at any second. She had her own wooden rod tucked into her black apron.
The maid next to her, a bubbly blonde, was her polar opposite. Isabella, she had said her name was. After the initial shock of being told by Sanria that you had been requested by someone to serve at the ball, she had helped you push your stiff limbs into the all black service dress and frilly apron, a uniform only used for special events. 
Even though she didn’t say anything in Sanria’s presence, she seemed to understand your confusion, discomfort, and alarm at the prospect of serving so many important people during such a large event while still being so new in the castle, while also wondering who had requested such an inexperienced servant for such a large event. 
You had no choice but to shake off the feeling and try to steel your nerves. If you didn’t, you risked getting into more trouble. If you tried to be confident and sure of yourself, you had a higher chance of luck.
So, you watched silently as Isabella and Iseul filled two sleek black trays with the tall thin glasses full of sparkling wine, willing the slight tremble in your fingers to stop. Iseul didn’t bother to even look at you when she was finished. She simply snapped her fingers and turned, preparing to set another tray.
Isabella turned her kind eyes to you, nodding her head in approval when you approached. “Have you ever held a tray full of glasses like this?” She asked, her voice sweet. Her presence was comforting, and you found your shoulders relaxing slightly. You shook your head.
“It’s easy, really.” She said, sliding the tray from the table and onto her waiting hand. The liquid in the glasses barely wobbled, and she held the tray with ease despite there being at least ten glasses resting on its surface. “Just carefully slide it onto your palm. Don’t go too fast or too slow, though. It can practically sense your fear when you do it that way.”
Your brows furrowed, and you gently tugged on the edge of the tray. Not too fast, not too slow. So, just right. You hoped you would get Just Right on the first try, before Iseul turned and witnessed you dropping an entire tray of wine on the ground.
You tugged the tray onto your hand, like Isabella had, wincing when the wine nearly threatened to spill from the edge of the glass. The blonde nodded her approval and gave you a small smile. “Perfect.” She said, brushing a stray droplet off the surface of your tray.
“Now, when you go up to serve someone, you must first bow your head like this,” Isabella demonstrated by dipping her chin lightly, her eyes cast downward. A respectful and simple action.”Then, ask them if they would like a glass. If they ask what the wine is, it is a Sparkling Snowdrop from Shivermaw. It’s their specialty.” 
You faintly remembered the name, Shivermaw. One of the girls a few beds down from yours was born there, but had left due to the crumbling economy of the winter city. Supposedly, the Duke and Duchess were doing just fine, and so were the wealthier inhabitants of the city. But the further out from the city's main area you got, the poorer the families were. And, that wasn't even considering the rural villages, comparable to your own.
You shook the thoughts of Shivermaw from your head and nodded at Isabella. “Alright, ready?” She asked quietly, approaching the doorway of the kitchen. You swallowed, wanting to tell her you weren’t, and that you just wanted to go to bed. But you followed her, again staring into the beautiful ballroom. 
“Ready.” You said quietly. Then, you were both entering the ballroom. The music was louder, and so were the voices of the guests. The smells of their perfumes hit you a little harder, and suddenly it felt like the air in your lungs was gone. 
So many people. You thought to yourself, trying to steady your breathing. It had been one thing to simply peer in from the outside. But to actually stand in it? Your legs began to shake. You were terrified. All it would take was one mistake, and Sanria would pull the rod from her apron. Standing in the ballroom made it feel more real than it had when you had only caught glimpses of it. The fear hadn’t hit you as hard as it did now that you were actually there.
Isabella seemed to sense your anxiety, and gently nudged your arm with hers. “Hey.” She murmured quietly. You looked into her bright eyes, your breath coming out shakily. 
“Pretend that you’ve been doing this for years. As long as you pretend to be confident, they’ll never know the difference. They just want to get drunk, gorge out on the food, and then fuck each other.” She said, giving you a small grin. 
Yes, she was right. They wouldn’t even look at you most likely. You were just a servant. You had one simple task. You took a deep breath, and gave her a small, half-hearted grin in return. “I’ll start on the right side, you start on the left?”
Isabella nodded, giving you a look of encouragement. There were already other maids, dressed like you were, who were handing out drinks on the right side of the room. You scanned the space, trying to track which guests did not have glasses in their hands.
You decided to approach a beautiful, ivory skinned woman with blonde hair the color of the sun. Her blush colored gown was beaded with so many pearls, you were surprised she could move around with so much weight attached to the fabric. 
You bowed your head, just as Isabella had showed you, and offered her a glass of the wine. She paused her conversation with a handsome, dark skinned man and looked down at you, her face morphing from flirtatious to disgusted. She didn’t even bother to respond as she angled her back towards you, continuing her conversation.
You tried to brush off the annoyance and embarrassment that washed over you and turned, next making your way over to an older woman with graying hair. Her deep blue gown was much more simple but still caught the light beautifully. You bowed your head to her and once again offered up a glass of wine from your tray. 
“Thank you, dear.” She said quietly, accepting the glass. You nodded again, pleased. You backed away, allowing her to drink her wine in peace. Slowly, you handed out your entire tray of wine. 
For the next hour, you performed your own waltz to the melody that the musicians created in the center of the room. It had only five steps; go to the kitchen. Retrieve a new tray from Iseul, who still did not utter a word to you. Return to the ballroom. Hand out the wine. Return to the kitchen and repeat. 
On your eighth tray, finally, Iseul stopped you. You had reached for the fresh tray, but she put her hand on it harshly. “Let Nidora take it.” She said, her voice raspy. You retracted your hand and allowed the tiny redhead to take the tray, her eyes not meeting yours. 
“Is everything alright?” You asked quietly, resting your hands behind your back. You had thought you were doing very well, seeing as you had no experience with service. 
Iseul sat the dark blue wine bottle that she had been opening down and looked at you, her eyes holding nothing but disdain and hate. “I don’t like you.” She said flatly, causing your brows to shoot up.
“O-oh.” you said, fumbling for a better response. Everyone was entitled to their own feelings but…you hadn’t done anything to the head maid. Why was she stopping you to tell you this now?
There was a few seconds of awkward silence, before Iseul finally spoke again. 
“The only reason you’re here is because a Prince specifically requested you.” She said, crossing her arms across her chest. You took a step back, stunned by her words. Your mind instantly shot to Namjoon. He had been the only Prince to speak to you, and it was only a single order…had you bothered him in any way? 
Rae hadn’t acted as though anything was off…surely she would have told you if you had done something wrong? And if you had then why would he request you? Wouldn’t he want to not see your face? Unless - he was planning on punishing you in front of the entire ballroom?!
You began to shake. What could you have possibly done to anger him like that? He had received the right tea from Rae. Had he wanted you specifically to serve it? Would that really be enough to make him want to punish you in front of an entire ballroom?
Iseul snorted at your bloodless face, her smile cruel. “You’re just like that whore Kassie. You slept with one of them, didn't you?” She asked, leaning forward. “Now my neck is on the line. If you mess up, it comes back to me. If I wanted to get stuck with an inexperienced cleaning maid, then I would have just taken Rae’s position-”
“What are you talking aboutI?” You asked, cutting her off. You braced your shaking hands on the counter that she had been working on and leaned forward, panicked. “I haven't been sleeping with anyone!”
Iseul’s nostrils flared, and she uncrossed her arms, snatching the bottle of wine from the counter. “Your reaction tells me that you’re lying.” She said coldly, resuming her task of pouring the wine into the glasses. “I want you to know that if you make a single mistake, I will be the one beating you. And my rod is much more painful than Sanria’s.” 
You tried to open your mouth to defend yourself again, to question her - but she cut you off before you could get a single word out. “I do not care about your excuses.” She said, venom dripping from her lips. “Just get back out there and do your job. And do not fuck it up.”
You recoiled, flinching when she shoved a tray towards you. You knew that the dark haired maid wasn’t bluffing. If you messed up, she would know. And, standing there in an attempt to argue or get answers from her would only piss her off more. She was convinced that you were…involved, with a Prince. She had already made her mind up. It was best for you to try to brush it off and return to your duties. 
Shakily, you slid the fresh tray into your hand and made your way to the doorway, peering in. You were tense again, just as you were the first time you entered the crowded room. If Namjoon had requested you then you wanted to avoid the tall prince as much as you could. Though, you hadn’t seen him all night. Maybe it was a blessing, or maybe it was his plan to catch you off guard…?
You tried to steady yourself again as you noted the change in the atmosphere in the ballroom. The tables were now being rearranged as guests ran around with metal keys in their hands. It was the key matching game…
Your mind shot to the stableboy from before, and you frowned. You would have preferred being around him than in the mess that you were in now. You pushed forward and began handing out wine to the newly formed couples that stood and flirted, their keys glinting under the candlelight. 
You managed to empty two more trays, your stomach still uneasy from your interaction with Iseul, before a familiar tingling feeling began to flow through your veins. You reflexively gripped your empty tray as you looked around, a small shudder flowing through your back.
Then, a warm hand was on your shoulder. A warm voice whispered close to your ear, “I finally found you.” And you whipped around, your cheeks heating at the proximity. In front of you stood the stableboy that had lived in your mind for days, looking even more handsome than before.
You found yourself smiling and opened your mouth to ask him what he was doing there, why he was there instead of the stables. The question halted in your throat as a golden glint caught your eye from atop his head. A crown…
He was wearing a crown. 
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kingofbodyrolls · 2 days
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My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | eighteen
🐴Chapter summary: Jungkook and your sister gets married and you can’t wait to marry the love of your life too.
🐴Chapter title: By My Side
🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc
🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.
🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst
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🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!
🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
🐴Chapter warnings: so much love, so much fluff, so many kisses, it’s wedding season yay, explicit description of sex; oral (female and male receiving), marking/biting (I swear they are not animals lol), dirty/sweet talk, multiple orgasms, spanking, nipple play, rough(er) sex, slight exhibitionism, caught in the act 👀
🐴Status: completed (the epilogue is in the works!)
🐴Word count: 14.7k
🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,
*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.
🐴Now playing 💿 “By My Side” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]
🐴Author’s note: how are you all doing? We’re almost at the end of the road and I just wanted to say how thankful I am for each and everyone of you guys 😭💖 Especially to all of you that leave me nice, sweet, sad or yelling comments— truly you mean so much to me!! I’m sorry that some of you have dropped off, or stopped commenting, but, ah, it’s okay, even though it makes me wonder if you don’t like it anymore (which is also fine). I get too much into my head, lol. But I just wanted to say that I’m really grateful! Chapter 19 is the last ‘official’ chapter, as chapter 20 is the epilogue (with the Q&A I really hope that you’ll participate in /comment or ask/ otherwise it’s fine, I’ve already got a few questions lined up!). Thank you for joining me on this wild ride 💖 The song that Jimin is playing on the piano is “Love Somebody” by Lukas Graham.
You can send in your questions for the characters or me here → Ask away 💜*
*for people on AO3 you can also participate if you want to, just leave a comment (guest/anon or not), and I’ll reply to that and I’ll add your question in the Epilogue💜
It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.Wanna see the book cover?
← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →
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“Gonna throw my arms around youAnd hold you tightGonna throw my arms around youWe’re gonna dance all night” ‘By My Side’ by Rebecca Lavelle
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Everything is just going wrong.
The relentless heat pulls down on you like a vengeful sun god, threatening to sap every ounce of strength from your weary body until you collapse, a mere casualty of its unyielding fury.
As the high summer sun reigns supreme once more, you find yourself marveling at the passage of time, unable to comprehend that you’ve already spent two entire years in this place you call home.
Amidst the chaos of the ranch, the sheep have staged a daring escape from their paddock, their wooly forms darting erratically across the landscape. With determination etched on your faces, you, Jimin, Soo-ah, and Ara scramble to corral them, matching their frantic energy step for step, while Yoongi works tirelessly to mend the broken fence.
The urgency of your sister’s impending wedding hangs in the air, but the chaos of the ranch seems determined to steal the spotlight. Despite the pressing need to assist her in her preparations, you find yourself ensnared in the unpredictable drama unfolding outside. With a mixture of amusement and concern, you watch as your sister, clad in her elegant wedding gown, bravely joins the fray, chasing after a wayward sheep. The sight is both comical and endearing, though you can’t help but worry that her gown may carry the brunt of the day’s unexpected escapades, threatening to pollute the perfection of her special day.
“Jessi, get back inside and finish getting ready!” You shout over the clamor of bleating sheep, your voice laced with urgency as you dart between the animals, determined to block their escape routes and guide them back to safety.
She grumbles, her frustration palpable in the sweltering air. “No, everything’s a mess. I can’t in good conscience sit and wait for everyone to fix all of this,” she insists, gesturing emphatically to the banners and decorations hanging around the property, clinging on for dear life as if fighting against the relentless heat themselves.
“The cake hasn’t even arrived yet,” she starts, frustration evident in her voice, “and the food is still nowhere to be seen. The caterers are running late too, of course.”
With sheer determination, she seizes a sheep and drags it through the chaos of the yard, guiding it back into the pen with a triumphant grunt.
“Some of our friends are stuck in sudden traffic, on roads that are normally as deserted as ghost towns,” she hisses through clenched teeth while securing the gate, “it’s like everything is spiraling into a fucking disaster!”
“Look, I understand, but it would be a huge help if you could just head back inside, get ready, and make sure nothing happens to that dress,” you plead with your sister, feeling the weight of the chaotic situation. Behind you, Jimin appears, a silent but supportive presence.
“We’ll handle the sheep,” he reassures your sister with a warm smile, gently nudging her towards the house, but she remains adamant, refusing to heed reason.
“No,” she insists, determination blazing in her eyes as she rushes to corral another sheep, “We sort out these sheep first, then I’ll finish getting ready.”
You watch her dart around in slippers, makeup half-done, and hair neatly pinned, a whirlwind of determination amidst the chaos. It’s a surreal scene, part comedy, part calamity, and wholly ridiculous, you can’t help but think to yourself.
Jimin rolls his eyes in amused exasperation, and you both stand there, transfixed, watching your stubborn sister darting about like a whirlwind. It’s a spectacle of determination amidst the chaos, and you can’t help but be amazed by her tenacity.
“Should we do something to stop her, before she ruins her dress?” Jimin whispers, his concern evident in the furrow of his brows and the earnestness in his voice, as you both contemplate whether to intervene or let her stubborn determination play out.
“I don’t think we can do anything and I doubt either Jungkook or Jessi are too concerned about the dress at this point,” you chuckle, reminiscing about your sister's quip during her dress fittings, when she joked about Jungkook’s eagerness to tear it off. “But hey, at least it’ll make for a memorable story,” you add with a grin, watching as Jessi continues her frantic chase around the yard.
“Come on, let’s lend a hand and wrangle these wooly escape artists,” you suggest, a hint of determination in your voice. “We’re cutting it close to the ceremony, and I’d rather not be chasing sheep in a fancy dress any longer than necessary.” With a quick glance at Jimin, you dash off in pursuit of a particularly elusive sheep, the hem of your purple satin dress swishing around your ankles as you go.
With Jimin and Soo-ah at your heels, you plunge into the chaos of scampering sheep. Together, you dart and dive amidst the wooly fugitives, your hearts pounding in sync with the rhythm of the chase. With practiced precision, you snatch up stray sheep, your movements a blur of determination and adrenaline. Each successful capture is a victory, a step closer to restoring order to the ranch and salvaging the wedding day.
As you catch your breath, you scan the scene before you, noting your sister’s approach. Her once pristine dress is now adorned with streaks of dirt, a testament to her relentless pursuit of wayward sheep. Despite the disarray, her determined stride speaks volumes—this is a woman on a mission, unwilling to let even the chaos of runaway livestock derail her wedding day.
“You look like you’ve been wrestling with the sheep,” you tease, gesturing to the dirt stains on her dress, but she just shrugs it off with a determined grin.
“Are we done with the sheep now?” She asks, a wide grin on her face, a stark contrast to the chaos around you.
“I believe so,” you breathe out, your legs trembling slightly. You can’t help but note how out of shape you are.
“Alright. I’ll head back in and let Ha-rin work her magic on me,” she smiles at you before disappearing into the house.
Soo-ah and Ara comes bounding after her, declaring, “We need to get ready too!”
Both you and Jimin share a laugh at her eagerness, your hands finding each other naturally amidst the chaos.
“You look absolutely dashing in that suit,” you murmur, your fingers gently tracing the lines of his collar before drawing him closer for a tender kiss.
As you catch your breath, Jimin’s hand finds its place on your hips, a gentle reassurance amidst the chaos. “You look absolutely stunning in that satin dress,” he murmurs, his eyes alight with admiration as he drinks in your beauty.
His gaze intensifies, tracing the contours of your form with an unspoken hunger. In a moment of raw desire, he leans in for another kiss, his lips seeking the warmth of yours with a passion that ignites the air around you.
“Ahem,” as Yoongi clears his throat behind you, his interruption breaks the intimate moment with Jimin, drawing your attention away from his embrace. With a blush rising to your cheeks, you pivot to meet Yoongi’s gaze, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement at being caught in such a tender exchange.
Yoongi’s furrowed brow accentuates his concern as he addresses the emerging problem, “I’ve finished fixing the fence, but should we let Jessi know about the horses breaking out?”
Your sudden pivot towards Yoongi, eyes wide with concern, mirrors the rush of hopelessness engulfing you. “Shit, they have?” You blurt out, your voice tinged with urgency.
Jimin’s expression mirrors your own mix of surprise and weariness. “Definitely don’t tell her that,” he agrees, his voice tinged with a hint of dread.
With a frustrated grumble, you snatch the hair elastic from your locks, securing the hem of your dress around the thickest parts of your thighs. Thankfully, you’re in boots, not the heels meant for the wedding. “We have to round them up too,” you sigh, starting towards the stables and the adjacent paddock.
As you, your boyfriend, and Yoongi approach the paddock, it becomes evident that the fences remain intact; rather, it seems someone neglected to secure the gate.
You release a frustrated sigh. “Such a silly mistake. It’s probably one of the city guests,” you grumble, eyeing the horses as they gallop around the yard in front of the stables.
“At least they’re just out here,” Yoongi says, his voice tinged with a touch of defeat, “so we don’t have to saddle up a horse to get them.”
“Let’s get to work then,” Jimin says, his determination cutting through the weariness as he strides towards Marshmallow, while you head over to Mikrokosmos. Yoongi takes charge of Cinnamon and the other horses, a sense of urgency in his movements.
The three of you work in unison, coaxing and guiding the remaining horses back into their stalls. With each successful capture, you can’t help but feel the weight of the day pressing down on you. If it were your wedding day, you’d likely be a wreck with all these mishaps, but your sister’s calm demeanor is a stark contrast. She’s handling it with remarkable ease, almost too casual given the circumstances.
“Alright, now that we’ve sorted out the horse situation, let’s head down to the terrace and ensure everything’s set up perfectly before we check on Jessi,” Jimin suggests, a warm smile gracing his lips as he takes your hand, leading the way to the terrace.
As Yoongi trails closely behind, you descend to the terrace, greeted by a scene far from the envisioned perfection. String lights hang precariously, as if ready to tumble, the floral archway stands incomplete, and the chairs remain stacked, untouched.
“Who the fuck thought this half-assed setup was acceptable?” You exclaim, gesturing to the haphazard scene that falls far short of wedding readiness.
“We better get it sorted, and quick,” Yoongi declares, already diving into action to rectify the situation. He swiftly begins readjusting the string lights, wrapping them securely around the wooden poles on the terrace.
You stride purposefully towards the archway, the symbolic heart of your sister’s impending union with Jungkook. Your hands reach for the scattered roses, their rich red hue a testament to passion and enduring love. Though not Jessi’s favorite, she chose them for their timeless significance in romance. With meticulous care, you intertwine the roses through the wire of the archway, each blooming a promise of the love that will be declared beneath its embrace.
As you weave the roses through the archway, your thoughts drift to the upcoming wedding ceremony. It’s endearing that Jessi and Jungkook chose this picturesque terrace for their special day. With a wistful smile, you envision your own future nuptials with Jimin, the love of your life. Your gaze falls to your hand, where the glimmering purple gemstone of your ring catches the sunlight, casting a kaleidoscope of colors. You wonder, will your wedding day unfold flawlessly, bathed in perfection, or will it, like today, be a delicate balance of chaos and charm?
Jimin meticulously arranges the chairs in front of the archway, and you find yourself stealing glances at him, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his presence. The mere thought of marrying him sends a flurry of butterflies dancing in your stomach, anticipation and love intertwining in a beautiful symphony.
As Yoongi finishes with the string lights, he joins you at the archway, carefully weaving more lights into its frame. The vision of the terrace illuminated in the soft glow of the lights fills your mind with anticipation, imagining how enchanting it will look as night falls.
“Should I add some light to the piano too?” Yoongi’s voice breaks through the bustling scene, his eyes flickering between you and Jimin. Jimin responds with a nod, a smile gracing his lips, affirming the idea with silent approval.
“That’s a brilliant idea,” you remark, a glint of excitement dancing in your eyes. You adore the thought of Jimin serenading the wedding guests with his piano. His decision to bring it here fills you with anticipation, especially knowing he’ll grace the event with his melodious voice. Each note he plays and every lyric he sings has a magical way of captivating your soul, tugging at the strings of your heart with its angelic resonance.
Just the thought is already setting your heart aflutter, anticipating the magic it will bring to the celebration.
As the thorn pricks your finger, a sharp curse escapes your lips, its sting piercing through the bustling preparations. Glancing down, you find a tiny droplet of blood welling up at the tip of your thumb. Grimacing at the inconvenience, you apply pressure to staunch the flow, though it continues to seep through. Jimin’s concerned voice breaks through the chaos, drawing his attention to your injury. “Did you cut yourself?” He inquires, his eyes scanning your hand with worry.
“Yeah, these damn roses,” frustration drips from your words as you lament the troublesome roses, a hint of exasperation coloring your tone. Jimin’s gentle touch on your hand soothes the irritation, his concern palpable as he inspects the injury. With a relieved sigh, you notice the bleeding has ceased, a silent testament to his comforting presence. “I don’t think I want roses at our wedding,” you quip, a wry smile tugging at your lips amidst the chaos.
“I want anything you want,” he murmurs, his voice a soft reassurance amidst the chaos, “if you don’t want roses, we’ll find some other flowers.” His words carry a promise, a vow to prioritize your desires above all else, igniting a warmth in your heart that transcends the fleeting mishaps of the day.
You smile at your fiancé, a surge of affection welling up within you, and you lean in to seal the moment with a tender kiss, a silent promise of love and unity amidst the whirlwind of preparations.
“Looks like everything’s finally falling into place,” Yoongi remarks with a satisfied grin, stepping back to admire the twinkling string lights, casting a warm glow over the terrace.
You all pause to soak in the scene before you; the chairs adorned with soft white fabric, carefully tied with dashes of vibrant red, adding a touch of elegance. The archway bursts with the crimson hue of roses, their lush green leaves accentuating their beauty. Everywhere, string lights dance in the gentle breeze, casting a warm glow, even delicately draped around the microphone stationed before the piano, completing the enchanting ambiance.
“I think we’re done too. Great work, everyone!” You beam with pride, clapping for Yoongi and Jimin, feeling a sense of accomplishment wash over you. With the decorations sorted, your attention shifts to the remaining tasks: ensuring the food, cake, and guests are all in order, and most importantly, attending to your sister’s needs on her special day.
“Could one of you give Jungkook a quick check-in? I’ll go see how Jessi’s doing,” you suggest, a warm smile gracing your lips as you loosen the hair tie around your dress, allowing it to cascade back into its original position.
“Alright, I’ll catch up with my brother,” Jimin volunteers, planting a tender kiss on your lips before you make your way into the house.
As you step into your sister’s room, Ha-rin is meticulously tending to her, perfecting both her hair and makeup. The sight that meets your eyes takes your breath away: your sister’s hair is elegantly styled, cascading in a charming bob adorned with delicate flowers, while her makeup adds a subtle glow, accentuating her natural beauty with finesse.
“You look absolutely stunning,” you whisper, your voice quivering with emotion. You fight back tears, determined not to smudge your own makeup. Save it for later, you remind yourself, knowing there will be countless moments ahead to let your emotions flow.
“Thank you,” she replies with a smile, but there's a hint of unease in her eyes, a flicker of something unspoken.
“What’s wrong?” You inquire, a mix of curiosity and concern lacing your words.
“Well,” she begins, her voice tinged with disappointment, “the caterer called. They can’t make it. There’s some kind of accident on the road, making it impossible for them to get here.” Your eyes widen, and your heart sinks to the floor at the news.
“Which also means that some of the guests are stuck in said traffic,” she adds, her voice deflated, mirroring your own sinking feeling.
“Oh no,” you murmur, sinking onto the edge of her bed, the weight of the unexpected news heavy on your shoulders.
“I can whip up some quick food for everybody,” Ha-rin offers, her nimble fingers deftly placing more flower pins in your sister’s hair, her voice a beacon of hope amidst the uncertainty.
“Really?” Jessi’s eyes widen with a mix of surprise and gratitude. “If it’s not too much trouble for you, you are also a guest, you know. You’re not supposed to be working.”
“Yes, it’s fine. You know I love to cook, and I’ll call Seokjin and ask if he can come now and help,” she says, her smile radiating reassurance, a beacon of calm amid the chaos.
“What about the guests that can’t get here in time?” you inquire, a small smile playing on your lips, though worry lingers beneath the surface.
“That’s just too bad for them. We are sticking to the schedule. I think the most important people are here anyway,” she declares with a soft smile gracing her lips. You catch the glint in her eyes, brimming with excitement as she eagerly anticipates marrying the love of her life.
“Eh, what about the cake?” You interject, a sudden realization dawning on you as you recall the neglected task.
“It’s on its way, but also stuck in traffic,” your sister replies with a smile, her words laced with optimism. “It’s okay. Today will still be the best day of my life, even if some things are missing. Those little hiccups won’t dim the magic of this moment.”
You smile, grateful for her resilient outlook on things.
Ha-rin’s already on the phone with Seokjin, and he’s assured them he and Namjoon are on their way, ready to lend a hand in the kitchen. Ha-rin’s already bustling downstairs, preparing to whip up something quick.
Feeling the tension lift, you place a reassuring hand on your sister’s shoulder as she sits before her vanity. Meeting her gaze in the mirror, you ask, “Are you ready?” 
Her reflection grins back, “Yeah, I’m ready.”
“I wish mom was here, or my dad,” her words carry a weight of longing as she smiles, a melancholy veil over her features. You nod in silent understanding. The absence of loved ones, especially on such a significant day, leaves an unmistakable void. It’s a sentiment you’ve grappled with too, ever since Jimin proposed. The thought lingers – the absence of your father to walk you down the aisle. Yet, in that moment, you realize something profound: tradition holds less significance when you’re confident in your own capability, as is your sister.
“I’ll head downstairs to check on the guests, alright? It’s nearly time. But don’t worry, I’ll be back to escort you when the moment arrives,” you assure her with a warm smile, offering a comforting squeeze of her hand before swiftly exiting the room.
You rush downstairs, finding Ha-rin already engrossed in her culinary wizardry. Then, darting outside to the terrace, you scan the arrivals. Among them are your dearest friends, recognizable instantly amidst the gathering crowd. Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon, Taehyung, Soo-ah, Ara, your fiancé, and Seokjin hustle past you, bound for the kitchen. Each one exudes a magnetic charm, their presence lending an air of elegance and anticipation to the gathering.
You make your way to Jimin, curiosity piqued. “Where’s your brother?”
Jimin lets out a nervous chuckle, his hand reaching up to scratch his head. “He’s running a bit late. His truck had a flat tire.”
You groan in exasperation, a blend of frustration and humor evident in your voice. “Oh my god. Nothing is going the way that it’s supposed to today, is it?”
“He’ll be here soon, everything will be fine,” he reassures you, his touch warm and reassuring as he gently lifts your hand for a quick, comforting kiss.
As you scan the gathering, more familiar faces start to trickle in — friends and family you rarely get the chance to see. With a warm smile, you greet each one, exchanging brief but heartfelt words, all the while hoping fervently that the ceremony will indeed begin soon.
As you usher people to their seats in front of the archway, a distant rumble draws your attention. Your heart skips a beat, hoping it’s Jungkook arriving at last. But as the vehicle draws nearer, relief washes over you; it’s the officiator, whom you had completely forgotten about until now. Despite the oversight, you’re grateful for his timely arrival.
The officiator hurries out of his car, a hint of urgency in his steps as he apologizes for being late. You offer a reassuring smile, assuring him that it’s alright, and in fact, the groom has yet to arrive, so his timing couldn’t be better.
With a surge of anxious energy, you fish out your phone from your purse and glance at the time. Jungkook should have arrived by now, and the knot of worry tightens in your stomach. The anticipation builds, your nerves tingling as if it were your own wedding day unraveling before you.
The distant growl of a dirt bike engine reaches your ears, and instinctively, you know it’s Jungkook. The rhythmic scrape of tires against earth crescendos as he maneuvers closer, the anticipation heightening with each passing moment. Finally, he parks beside the terrace, his arrival marking a crucial piece falling into place in the intricate mosaic of the day’s events.
As he removes his helmet, his ebony locks cascade in disarray, adding an untamed allure to his rugged appearance. Clad in a sleek black tux, he exudes an effortless charm that catches your eye. With a casual sweep of his hand through his tousled hair, he strides toward you, a grin illuminating his features like a beacon of warmth amidst the day’s chaos.
With a sheepish grin, Jungkook offers his apologies for his tardiness, his words tumbling out in a rush of explanation. “I’m so sorry for being late. I couldn’t find a spare tire for the truck, so I took the bike. How’s everything going?”
You fill Jungkook in on the current chaos with a reassuring smile, noting the absence of food and cake but the improvised efforts of Ha-rin and Seokjin. As you steady him with a grip on his arm, you notice his restless energy. “Well, most people have arrived, the food and cake is missing, but Ha-rin and Seokjin are whipping something up instead, and Jessi is waiting upstairs for her cue,” you say, your tone calm amidst the flurry. “Are you nervous?”
Jungkook beams back, his excitement palpable. “No, I’m just excited,” he replies, his grin infectious, spreading warmth through his words.
“Great, if you head over to the archway, I’ll go fetch Jessi,” you say, your smile encouraging as you give his hand a reassuring squeeze before heading off to find your sister.
You rush back upstairs to your sister’s bedroom and discover her in tears, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. Concern floods through you as you hasten to her side, enfolding her in a protective embrace. “What’s happened?” You inquire urgently, your voice laced with worry.
Your sister’s current state is unusual, adding to your concern. It’s rare to see her like this, and that’s what’s truly troubling you.
Her breaths come in ragged gasps, as if each one is a battle. “The nerves are getting to me,” she manages between uneven breaths.
You come to a poignant realization in that moment—beneath her resilient exterior lies vulnerability, just like anyone else. Wrapping your arms around her, you offer solace, acknowledging her humanity. “It’s all gonna be okay. Kook’s here, looking so damn handsome,” you assure her, hoping to ease her nerves.
Your reassuring touch rests gently on her shoulders as you offer comforting words. “Despite the chaos earlier, everything’s set. The only thing missing downstairs is you,” you assure her, conveying both readiness and anticipation for the momentous occasion awaiting her.
With a soft sniffle, she delicately dabs at her tears, ensuring her makeup remains flawless, a determined effort not to let her emotions overshadow her beauty.
“I’m ready, let's go,” she declares, her voice steadying with determination, a final sniffle betraying her resolve as she stands up, ready to face the moment head-on.
Despite the smudges of dirt along the hem of her dress, she radiates an undeniable beauty, the gown hugging her form like it was made for her alone.
As her fingers intertwine with yours, a silent bond of sisterly solidarity forms. Descending the staircase together, you halt at the threshold of the terrace, stealing a fleeting moment to convey your unwavering support. “Remember, I love you, and everything will fall into place. It’s your time now. Go out there and claim your happiness.”
With a radiant smile in return, she embraces the moment, and you dash outside to join the assembly, making your way to the archway where Jungkook, Jimin, and the officiator stand. As you position yourself as your sister’s bridesmaid, a swell of emotion overtakes you at the sight of the gathered guests. Tears well in your eyes, understanding the depth of this moment for your sister, realizing the profound emotions that accompany such a significant occasion.
As the doors swing open, all heads turn in unison, anticipation palpable in the air. Your sister emerges, a mix of nerves and joy evident in her demeanor. Yet, as her gaze meets Jungkook’s beaming expression, a radiant smile blooms across her face, erasing any lingering apprehension and filling the space with an undeniable warmth.
She steps forward to join Jungkook, their eyes locking in a tender exchange that speaks volumes of their profound affection. Despite the nerves dancing in their gazes, their smiles radiate pure happiness, a testament to the depth of their bond. Witnessing their intertwined emotions, a blend of excitement and anticipation, fills you with a rush of affectionate fondness for the pair before you.
The officiant’s voice resonates, carrying the weight of solemnity and celebration, as he addresses the gathered assembly. “Welcome, cherished family, beloved friends, and dear ones,” he begins, his words weaving a tapestry of unity and affection. “Today, amidst this gathering of love, we commemorate the union of Jungkook and Jessi. In this moment, we stand witness to their profound commitment and rejoice in the boundless love that binds their hearts together, forging a path illuminated by devotion and shared dreams.”
As the officiant continues, his words become an intimate embrace of the couple’s journey, weaving anecdotes of triumphs and trials into a tapestry of enduring love. Each word seems to resonate with the experiences of Jungkook and Jessi, casting a warm glow of recognition and affirmation upon their union. You find yourself smiling, touched by the authenticity and depth of his words, which echo the resilience and commitment that define their relationship.
A wave of emotion washes over you, tightening your throat with a profound sense of affection. Glancing at your fiancé, you find him equally moved, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears yet radiant with a tender smile. His gaze flits between Jungkook, Jessi, and you, each glance brimming with pride and adoration for the bond being celebrated before you.
A hush falls over the gathered guests, anticipation crackling in the air like static electricity, as they collectively grasp the significance of the moment unfolding before them: the exchange of vows.
With a gentle smile gracing his lips, the officiant beckons Jungkook and Jessi to take each other’s hands and stand face to face. “Now,” he says softly, “Jungkook and Jessi, it's time to share the promises you’ve crafted for each other. Let your hearts speak.”
Jungkook inhales deeply, gathering his emotions before he begins. “I, Jungkook, take you, Jessi, just as you are,” he starts, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “From this day forward, I vow to cherish you, to love you with all my heart. You’ve been my friend since the day I moved next door, and through it all, you’ve been there for me, calling me out on my bullshit and lifting me up when I stumbled. Your kindness and love have shaped me in ways I can’t even begin to express. I promise to make every day with you an adventure, to fill our lives with joy and laughter, and to remain faithful to you as we grow old together. I can’t wait to share all my hopes and dreams with you. This, I solemnly pledge to you.”
Tears blur your vision, and you blink rapidly, trying to regain your composure. A glance at Jimin confirms that you’re not alone in your emotional response; his eyes glisten with unshed tears. Around you, guests grapple with their own emotions, alternating between soft sniffles and heartfelt chuckles.
Jimin, by Jungkook’s side, produces the ring, its glimmering presence a testament to their shared journey. You witness Jessi’s trembling anticipation, her eyes shining with love as Jungkook presents her with the ring, a symbol of their commitment. As the ring slips onto her finger, Jessi’s smile breaks through her tears, her emotions overflowing in a silent testament to their love.
Amidst laughter and tears, Jessi’s voice breaks through in a heartfelt chuckle, echoing the sentiment of everyone present. “How can I follow that?” She manages to say, her words laced with emotion, yet filled with joy.
With a determined resolve, Jessi straightens her posture, her gaze locked onto Jungkook’s, as if he’s the sole focus in the crowd. “I, Jessi, take you, Jungkook, as you are,” she begins, her voice unwavering, “and I promise from this day forward to love you with all my heart, to cherish you forever, even when you're being an idiot.” A ripple of laughter passes through the guests, but Jessi continues undeterred. “When I first met you, I knew we would become the bestest of friends,” she recounts warmly, “and though we have both been blind to our love for each other, we’ve always been there since day one. Our love is a slow one, and I can’t wait to watch it build even stronger over time. I promise to always be there for you, like I always have, and to spend eternity with you.”
Your vision blurs with tears again, rendering everything a watery haze. Yet, through the mist, you witness Jessi slipping the ring onto Jungkook’s finger with a tenderness that speaks volumes. They share a fleeting glance, a silent exchange of vows in their eyes, before the officiant’s voice pierces through the moment once more.
“With your declarations of love echoing through the hearts of all gathered here today, surrounded by the embrace of loved ones, I now, with the authority bestowed upon me, declare you husband and wife. You may seal your union with a kiss,” the officiant proclaims, his words resonating with warmth and joy as he steps back, leaving the newlyweds bathed in the glow of love’s triumph.
As Jungkook and Jessi’s lips meet in a tender embrace, a wave of exuberance sweeps through the crowd, erupting in cheers, applause, and jubilant shouts. Their kiss ignites a symphony of celebration, laughter mingling with the joyous cacophony. With twinkling eyes and contagious smiles, they break apart briefly, their hands raised in a playful display before succumbing once more to the intoxicating magic of their love, sealing their union with another tender kiss.
They gracefully traverse the grassy aisle, and each step resonates with the harmony of their newfound bond. With every footfall, the air is charged with a palpable sense of unity and joy. You intertwine your fingers with Jimin’s, the warmth of his hand a comforting reassurance amidst the whirlwind of emotions. Together, you and the jubilant assembly trail behind the newlyweds, a vibrant procession of love and celebration, each heartbeat echoing the symphony of affection that fills the air.
In a cascade of affection, you envelop both your sister and Jungkook in a tight embrace, the culmination of their love story tangible in this moment of love. Around you, friends and family converge, their outstretched arms forming a tapestry of heartfelt congratulations, woven with laughter, tears, and boundless joy.
Music fills the air, and Ha-rin and Seokjin’s culinary creations adorn the tables, tempting guests to indulge in a symphony of flavors. Conversations hum with warmth and laughter, a mosaic of shared stories and heartfelt connections, as you and Jimin navigate the lively gathering hand in hand, savoring each moment together amidst the festive atmosphere.
The day wanes into twilight, as the sun’s golden embrace yields to the subtle allure of dusk, the terrace transforms beneath the twinkling glow of the string lights. Their radiant beams cast a spell, painting the scene with an ethereal glow that could rival the most picturesque of rom-com settings. It’s as if the very essence of cinematic romance has descended upon this moment, wrapping you in its embrace and etching this day into the annals of timeless love stories.
As the delectable flavors crafted by Ha-rin and Seokjin dance on your taste buds, satiating your hunger, Jimin gracefully makes his way to the piano, his fingers poised to weave magic into the air. Eagerly, you join him, settling onto the bench beside him, anticipation coursing through your veins like an electric current, ready to be swept away by the enchanting melody he’s about to conjure.
As the final strains of music dissolve into the air, Jimin’s fingers hover over the piano keys, poised like a painter about to create a masterpiece. With the gentle caress of his touch, the first note emerges, followed by the sweet cadence of his voice, weaving a spell that ensnares your soul. Mesmerized, you surrender to the enchantment of his performance, each note a whisper of passion, each melody a testament to his mastery. His presence is magnetic, drawing you into a realm where time stands still and only the harmonies of love prevail.
He serenades with a Lukas Graham melody, and Jimin’s voice transcends mere sound, becoming an ethereal cascade of emotion. “When you say, you love the way I make you feel, everything becomes so real,” his words weave a tapestry of raw vulnerability, each syllable a tender embrace. “Don’t be scared, no, don’t be scared, cause you’re all I need,” he implores, his voice carrying the weight of a thousand promises. In that moment, surrounded by the twilight glow and the soft murmur of the evening, his melody becomes an anthem of love, resonating deep within your heart.
You glance around, the scene unfolds like a painting of affectionate vignettes; couples swaying cheek to cheek in perfect synchrony, their souls intertwined in the dance of love. Among them, your sister and Jungkook move with a grace that transcends mere steps, their hearts beating as one, their eyes locked in a silent promise of forever. In the soft glow of the string lights, their love is a radiant beacon, illuminating the night with its undeniable warmth and beauty.
Jimin’s fingers glide with effortless grace over the piano keys, and you find yourself swaying gently to the rhythm of the song next to him, enveloped in a cocoon of love. His voice, like a velvet caress, fills the air with each heartfelt lyric, each note resonating deep within your soul. “All my life,” he sings, his voice carrying the weight of every emotion, “I thought it’d be hard to find the one, ‘till I found you, and I find it bittersweet, ‘cause you gave me something to lose.” In that moment, surrounded by the soft glow of the string lights and the warmth of your loved ones, you realize that this is exactly where you belong—lost in the melody of love, with Jimin by your side.
As those words echo through the melody, they strike a chord deep within you, resonating with the profound love you hold for Jimin. Each syllable encapsulates the essence of your bond, stirring emotions you never knew existed. Tears brim in your eyes, a testament to the overwhelming beauty of the moment, as your heart dances to the rhythm of the keys, synchronizing with the song of your soulmate’s love.
“But when you love someone, you open up your heart. When you love someone, you make room. If you love someone, and you’re not afraid to lose ‘em,” Jimin’s voice caresses each note, weaving a tapestry of emotions, and you find yourself spellbound by his heartfelt rendition. His words resonate deep within your soul, stirring a kaleidoscope of feelings. You can’t help but wonder if he’s serenading you, but in this moment, it doesn’t matter. The beauty of his melody transcends any specific recipient, filling the air with pure, unadulterated love. Your heart swells with an indescribable joy, as if each note is a love letter written just for you.
As the final notes of the song fade into the night, Jimin’s eyes find yours, ablaze with an intensity that leaves you breathless. Without a word, he closes the distance between you, his touch gentle yet electrifying as his lips meet yours in a passionate embrace. In that fleeting moment, it’s as if time itself stands still, the world around you fading into insignificance as you’re enveloped in the warmth of his love. It’s a collision of souls, a cosmic dance orchestrated just for the two of you. As you part, his forehead presses against yours, his eyes searching yours with an unwavering devotion. “I love you,” he whispers, each word a promise etched into the fabric of the universe.
Tears glisten in your eyes as you tenderly place your hands over his, cradling them against your cheeks. “I love you too,” you murmur, the words carrying the weight of a lifetime of shared dreams and unspoken promises.
The music surges to life once more, transforming into an upbeat melody that ignites the crowd with infectious energy, prompting everyone to leap and sway with unbridled joy.
As you sit beside Jimin, enveloped in the vibrant atmosphere, you find solace in the simple act of watching people twirl and sway to the music. With his hand clasped in yours, you observe the dance floor come to life: Soo-ah and Namjoon’s laughter fills the air as they spin in rhythm, while Ara and Taehyung move with effortless grace, lost in the moment.
You glance across the dance floor, and you catch sight of Yoongi and Hoseok swaying in perfect harmony, their laughter echoing amidst the music. Their closeness and whispered words spark a curiosity that draws your attention, and as they slip away toward the stables, a spontaneous laugh escapes your lips.
You lean into Jimin’s embrace, a soft smile gracing your lips as you observe your sister and Jungkook engaged in their playful dance-off. Their competitive spirits shine through as they showcase their moves, each trying to outdo the other in a lighthearted battle for dance floor supremacy. Their energy is infectious, eliciting an affectionate eye roll from you as you revel in the joyous atmosphere of the moment alongside Jimin.
Just as you turn away, a tender moment catches your eye: Ha-rin leans in to kiss Seokjin, their affectionate gesture weaving seamlessly into the vibrant tapestry of the celebration. A warm smile plays on your lips, touched by the sight of their love blossoming amidst the festivities.
You turn towards Jimin, drawn by the magnetic pull of his presence, and nestle into his side, seeking solace in the comfort of his embrace. Your fingers intertwine naturally, a silent affirmation of your connection, as you both linger in the tranquil embrace of your love.
As you bask in the serene moment with Jimin, a voice pierces through the tranquility from behind, jolting you back to the present. “I’m so sorry I’m late, but I’m here with the cake!”
You pivot around to behold a lady cradling the cake in her arms, an emblem of sweet relief amidst the festivities. You hasten to her side, extending a hand to aid her with the burden. “It’s fine. It’s the perfect time,” you reassure her, your words resonating with a sense of gratitude and eagerness.
You delicately position the cake on the table, its presence a timely marvel as the moment for cake-cutting approaches. Its arrival couldn’t have been more opportune, aligning seamlessly with the proceedings.
Jungkook and your sister approach the cake, their smiles radiant like two love-struck souls lost in their own world. With synchronized movements, they cut into the cake, their laughter filling the air as they distribute slices to each guest, their joy contagious and palpable.
The cake is a divine delight, each bite a symphony of flavors dancing on your taste buds. As you indulge in its sweetness, laughter and chatter fill the air, accompanied by clinks of glasses as you toast to love and happiness.
As you sway in Jimin’s arms, the music enveloping you in its rhythm, you catch a glimpse of Yoongi and Hoseok returning to the dance floor. There’s a playful glint in Yoongi’s eyes that you recognize all too well, and it’s contagious. You exchange knowing smiles, a silent acknowledgment of mischief, before returning to the dance with renewed energy.
As the night wanes and the stars twinkle above, casting their celestial glow, you find yourselves reluctant to bid farewell to the festivities. However, the time has come for your sister and Jungkook to embark on their honeymoon adventure.
“Where’s the grand destination?” You inquire, your curiosity piqued by the air of mystery surrounding your sister and Jungkook’s travel plans. Her recent penchant for secrecy has only added to your intrigue, leaving you eager for her revelation.
“I’ll tell you once we’re back from our adventure in two weeks,” she teases, a playful glint in her eye as she envelops you in a warm embrace, leaving you hanging in suspense yet again.
You join the embrace, enveloping Jungkook in a heartfelt hug, your words tinged with genuine warmth as you wish them an unforgettable honeymoon filled with love and laughter.
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Returning home without your sister feels unsettling. The once lively corridors now echo with emptiness, leaving you with an unexpected sense of loneliness that you struggle to shake off. It’s a feeling you find discomforting, one that drives you back to Jimin’s comforting embrace. His home has evolved into your sanctuary, a place where warmth and familiarity envelop you like a cozy blanket— a home. In quiet conversations with Jimin, you’ve explored the idea of making a home together after marriage, and the anticipation thrills you to your core. The thought of sharing your life with him under one roof fills you with an eager longing that grows with each passing day.
You’ve made a pact to hold off until your sister and Jungkook return from their honeymoon, a decision born out of respect for their special time together. It’s a waiting game, albeit a challenging one, as each day stretches out like a tantalizing promise of what’s to come. In the meantime, you find solace in the anticipation, savoring the moments spent with Jimin while eagerly counting down the days until you can officially start your life together.
In the tranquil embrace of his ranch, each morning unfolds like a cherished ritual shared with your beloved fiancé. As the sun paints the horizon with hues of amber and gold, you find yourself enveloped in his arms, where every embrace whispers promises of forever. Here, amidst the rustle of the breeze and the gentle melody of nature, you discover a sense of belonging that transcends mere walls and roofs— it’s a sanctuary where your heart finds its true home.
As the day unfolds, you immerse yourself in the untamed beauty of the ranch, working alongside Yoongi and Hoseok to master the art of taming wild horses. Amidst the spirited dance between human and horse, Taehyung often joins, his curiosity piqued by the mesmerizing spectacle before him.
Amidst the flurry of ranch chores and horse training sessions, you’ve carved out precious moments to steal away with Jimin. Today, you’re escaping into the embrace of nature together, saddling up for a romantic horseback ride—a date brimming with the promise of adventure and love.
You and Jimin emerge from the stables, the weight of the world left behind as you venture into the boundless expanse of the countryside. Direction matters little when you’re with Jimin, your heart’s compass guiding you both through fields of golden grass and beneath a sky ablaze with the hues of twilight.
You soar over the rolling hills, weaving through dense forests, embraced by the remaining warmth of the sun and the playful caress of the wind through your hair. In this exhilarating moment, your heart sings with joy, knowing that you share this breathtaking experience with Jimin by your side, his laughter mingling with the melody of nature.
“Should we take a break?” You propose, feeling the thrill of the ride tingling in your veins after half an hour of journeying. The landscape around you is alive with the pulse of nature, a vibrant painting stretching as far as the eye can see. Though the ranch isn’t too distant, the distance you’ve covered has infused the air with an electrifying sense of adventure.
You both dismount your horses, the soft rustle of grass underfoot as you settle on the grassy ground. Nearby, your horses graze contentedly, a peaceful symphony of munching filling the air as you recline beside each other, basking in the tranquil moment together.
Jimin settles in behind you, enveloping you in his protective embrace, his warmth seeping into your skin. With a tender gesture, he rests his head on your shoulder, his breath soft against your neck as he whispers, “What’s on your mind?”
You lean into his touch, finding solace in the rhythmic pulse of his heartbeat against your back, a steady reassurance in the chaos of your thoughts. “Lately, I’ve been grappling with something,” you admit, the weight of your words heavy on your tongue. But this sentiment has lingered for a while, and you’ve mulled it over countless times. “I don’t feel like home feels like home anymore. I really want to move in with you because your space, your presence, it feels like home— where I belong, you know?”
Jimin nods in understanding, his warm breath tickling your skin as he speaks. “Yeah, I remember you mentioning that, love.”
“Do you think Jungkook will move in with Jessi then? Not that I don’t want to live here with your brothers,” you rush to add, ensuring you don’t overstep. You love his brothers, and you don’t really want them to leave either. But you also know your sister and Jungkook. It would be hell to live in the same house as them. You can still vividly recall that week at your place where you didn’t get any sleep because of all the sounds they were making.
Jimin chuckles softly, his warm breath tickling your ear, “I don’t know actually. But I think we can talk to them when they get back. We’re all grown people, I think they would understand that we want to live together, and I think they want that for themselves too. We just have to figure out the logistics.” His voice is reassuring, carrying a hint of excitement for the future.
You laugh softly, the sound blending with the rustle of the breeze, realizing the truth in his words. With a playful nudge, you lean further into his comforting embrace, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek, a silent promise of solidarity and affection.
“I love you more than words can express, Jimin,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the soft rustle of the leaves. As his warm breath caresses your neck, you feel a surge of emotion, a wave of affection that envelops you like a gentle breeze, leaving you breathless and longing for more.
“I love you too,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your neck in a tender kiss that sends a shiver down your spine. In that moment, you feel as if the world around you fades away, leaving only the warmth of his embrace and the flutter of butterflies in your stomach, reminding you of the depth of your affection for him.
“Something else has been on my mind too,” you begin, your voice trembling with lust as he peppers kisses along your neck. Each touch ignites a spark within you, urging you to share your thoughts with him, knowing that in his embrace, you’ll find comfort and understanding.
As his lips and tongue dance across your neck, eliciting soft gasps from your lips, you feel a surge of desire mingled with the need to express yourself. He doesn’t utter a word, but his gentle encouragement in the form of subtle sounds spurs you on, urging you to share your thoughts amidst the sensual distraction of his touch.
Amidst the tantalizing sensation of his kisses, you muster a chuckle, the playful warmth of the moment infusing your words with a light-hearted tone. “I’ve been thinking about breeding,” you confess, the words punctuated by a giggle as the ticklish sensation creeps in.
“That is one sexy way to open up for the baby talk,” he laughs, his tone playful yet tinged with a hint of desire, punctuated by a teasing nip at your neck.
“I’m not talking about us, you silly goof,” you chuckle, playfully rolling your eyes as you struggle to keep your thoughts on track.
“I’m talking about Mikrokosmos,” you clarify, your voice steadier now, with a touch of affection.
Jimin pulls back slightly, attempting to meet your gaze, though it’s a bit challenging at this angle. “Wait, are you serious?” He asks, a mix of surprise and curiosity in his tone.
“Yeah, she’s so pretty. I think she’ll have some beautiful foals, don’t you think?” You ask, a spark of excitement dancing in your eyes.
“Yeah, that’s actually a good idea. Do you want to train the foals yourself then?” He asks, resting his head back on your shoulder, his voice tinged with curiosity and anticipation.
“Yeah. I think it’ll be fun. Do you want to help me?” You ask, your voice filled with excitement and a hint of playfulness, your smile evident in your tone even if he can’t see it.
“Of course, love. I’d do anything for you,” he murmurs, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he leans in to kiss your neck again, his devotion evident in every touch.
“Thank you,” you express with a heartfelt squeeze as you hug him, your gratitude washing over you. Rising from the grass, you extend your hand to him, pulling him up with a gentle tug, ready to embark on whatever adventures lie ahead, hand in hand.
As you ride back home together, the anticipation of a warm meal awaiting you adds to the comfort of returning. Upon arrival, the aroma of leftovers tantalizes your senses, drawing you into the kitchen where Taehyung is already at work. His cheerful presence fills the room, a welcome sight in the otherwise empty house. With the others engrossed in their respective tasks, it’s just the three of you, creating a cozy atmosphere that wraps around you like a familiar embrace.
“Sorry, I was hungry,” Taehyung offers with a sheepish grin, his eyes bright with mischief as he waits for the microwave to do its magic.
“No worries, Taehyung. We’ve all been there,” Jimin reassures him with a gentle pat on the shoulder. You can’t help but beam at the sight. Lately, their bond has been strengthening, and it warms your heart to see Taehyung integrating into the family he never knew he had, his kindness shining through every interaction.
Jimin swiftly plates some food for both you and himself, and just as Taehyung’s microwave timer dings, Jimin prioritizes serving your meal first, his actions speaking volumes about his thoughtfulness and care.
As the aroma of the freshly heated food fills the air, the three of you gather around the cozy kitchen table, ready to savor the meal together.
“Any idea when Jessi and Jungkook will be back?” Taehyung inquires, taking a sip of his water, his curiosity palpable in the air.
“They should be back in about a week,” you respond, a gentle smile gracing your lips as you anticipate their return.
“That’s awesome. I didn’t really get a chance to hang out with him much before they left for the honeymoon. I’m really looking forward to getting to know him better,” he adds, his face lighting up with a wide, eager grin.
“You’ll have plenty of opportunities,” Jimin reassures him, his smile warm and encouraging.
Taehyung turns to you with sudden curiosity. “Do you know if Ara has a boyfriend?”
You burst into laughter, nearly spilling your food—a tragedy, considering Jimin’s delicious cooking. “She’s single. I noticed you two dancing at the wedding. Do you like her?”
His smile brightens, infectiously so, prompting a grin from you and even Jimin. Taehyung nods, a subtle blush tinging his cheeks. “Yeah, she’s cute.”
“You should ask her out on a date, I think she likes you too,” you encourage with a smile, offering a supportive thumbs-up.
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The laughter of both you and Jimin resonates through the living room in the early night, your bodies intertwined as you lounge on the couch, the TV playing in the background. However, your attention isn't on the screen; instead, you’ve lowered the volume, delving into a meaningful conversation.
“Love, we’ve made love in just about every corner of this place,” Jimin teases, his laughter light and playful, his hand warm on your thigh. His smile, with those endearing crooked teeth, ignites a rush of excitement within you, your heart quickening its pace, while butterflies flutter fiercely in your stomach.
“No, I don’t think we have,” you reply, shaking your head, mischief twinkling in your eyes as you mentally scan every surface you’ve ever had sex on.
“We’ve done it on the kitchen table, in the tub, under the shower, on the bed, even in the stables, and don't forget the truck and outside,” he rattles off, a devilish grin playing on his lips as he recalls each rendezvous. His gaze smolders with desire as he tightens his grip on your thigh, drawing you closer until your breaths mingle, noses touching in an electric exchange of heat.
He leans into you, his warm breath grazing your ear, sending shivers down your spine as he whispers, “Am I forgetting something?” His voice is laden with a playful tease, his lips tantalizingly close to yours, igniting a fiery anticipation between you.
Your breath hitches, and you feel the shiver travel from your spine down to your core. “I don’t think so,” you manage to whisper, the arousal pulsing through every fiber of your being.
Your hands rest on his chest as you inch yourself closer, almost straddling his lap. “But we haven’t done it on the couch yet,” you murmur, feeling the heat between you rising with each word, the anticipation electrifying the air.
“Are you sure? It seems weird that we haven’t done it here yet,” he muses, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.
He presses you down into the plush of the couch, his weight against you, his eyes shimmering with a mixture of love and lust, a smile playing on his lips like a love-struck fool. “Let’s add it to the list then,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, sending a thrill coursing through you.
He presses his hips against yours, igniting a surge of desire as you release a needy moan. Your hands find their way to his ribs, fingers curling in lust, while he leans in to kiss you fervently, starting at your lips before trailing down to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a deliciously tantalizing manner, gently biting it.
He groans softly, his lips and tongue creating a work of art on your neck, leaving you breathless and yearning for more of his electrifying touch.
“Oh, Jimin... I’m already so wet,” you moan, the intensity of his movements against your pussy sending waves of pleasure through you.
“Really?” He murmurs huskily in your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. “I’ve barely even touched you, love,” he adds, his voice dripping with desire and a hint of something dangerous that leaves you eager for more.
His erection is evident against you, firm and eager, as you trace the outline of his dick through his jeans. “I want to feel you,” you breathe out, your voice laced with urgency and desire.
His movements send shivers down your spine, igniting every nerve ending as he presses cock against you with fervor. “I wanna touch you too,” he whispers, his breath hitching with anticipation.
With tender hands, he skillfully undoes the button of your jeans, sliding them off your legs with a gentle tug. As your shirt slips away, revealing the curves he knows so well, his gaze lingers on your form clad in your lacy underwear, a mixture of desire and adoration shining in his eyes. “You’re stunning,” he murmurs, his voice a soft caress against your skin.
With a shy smile at his praise, you shift closer, eager to explore every inch of him. As his shirt joins yours on the floor, you're met with the sight of his sculpted physique, each muscle defined by hard work and dedication. His skin, bathed in a golden glow, invites your touch, and as your fingertips trace the lines of his abs, a soft chuckle escapes his lips, a melody that makes your heart flutter.
With a sense of urgency, your fingers deftly work at his pants, swiftly undoing them before pushing him back onto the couch. As you remove his trousers, he’s left clad only in his black boxers, a sight that ignites a primal desire within you. His form, outlined by the fabric, is a tantalizing tease, and you can’t resist the urge to trace the contours of his dick. The sound of his pleasure as you touch him sends a jolt of electricity through you, fueling your own growing need.
“I wanna taste you,” you murmur, your voice laced with desire as you tantalizingly hover over him.
“I wanna taste you too, love,” he responds, a smile playing on his lips as he eagerly joins in, slipping his fingers into his boxers. With your help, they slide down, revealing his cock, standing proudly before you. It’s tall and girthy, the veins almost look like they might be popping out of his skin. The head looks a bit red and you salivate watching how it twitches. 
The sight of him, so raw and eager, ignites a fire within you. You just want to ravish him or for him to ravish you.
You pause to savor the sight of him, every line and curve, every mark and scar telling a story of his strength and resilience. His form is nothing short of captivating, each imperfection only adding to his allure. You find yourself biting down on your lip, a mix of desire and adoration coursing through you.
You release the clasp of your bra, letting it cascade to the floor, joining the pile of discarded garments. Cupping your breasts with your hands, you bring them together, feeling their weight and softness against your palms. The hunger in Jimin's eyes intensifies, his gaze smoldering with desire as he emits a guttural groan, his longing palpable in the air.
You pinch your nipples as you moan, “Touch me Jimin.”
He doesn’t need a second invitation, his urgency palpable as he rises swiftly, his hands assertive as they press you down, swiftly removing your panties with an almost primal force, the fabric of the lace yielding to his determination. As his lips claim yours in a fervent kiss, his journey of passion descends, tracing a path from your mouth to the curve of your neck, lingering at each delicate contour, before cascading further, worshiping the expanse of your collarbones, and finally descending to the tender terrain of your chest.
His touch envelops your curves, a symphony of desire as his hand caresses your breasts, each kiss a testament to his adoration. “These tits,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin, “are so fucking beautiful.” His words, like velvet, echo with reverence, igniting a flame of passion that dances between you.
You can feel his dick on your wet pussy, and God, every fiber of your body yearns for him to just plunge into you like this.
He moves up from your chest, his eyes lock onto yours, ablaze with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine, “Should we do each other at the same time?”
A surge of excitement pulses through you as you bite your lip, meeting his gaze with a mixture of anticipation and desire. Without hesitation, Jimin reclines, his eyes dark with longing. “Sit on my face, love,” he murmurs, his voice thick with need.
A shiver courses through you at his command, a soft moan escaping your lips as you position yourself above him with your head facing towards his dick, your breath hitching with anticipation. With trembling anticipation, you lower yourself onto his face, the electric sensation of his tongue against your most sensitive areas sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. As he expertly explores every curve and crevice, igniting a fire within you, you can’t help but lose yourself in the intoxicating rhythm of his touch.
With a feverish urgency, your fingers wrap around his dick, eliciting a primal growl from deep within his chest as he bucks against your touch, his desire palpable in the air. Every stroke sends shivers down his spine, his breath growing ragged as you stoke the flames of his arousal, your movements synchronized with the rhythm of his tongue against your pussy.
You lower your head with a hungry eagerness, your tongue tracing a tantalizing path along his cock, teasing him. The tangy sweetness of his precum dances across your taste buds, igniting a fiery hunger within you as you savor the familiar flavor that never fails to drive you wild with longing.
Why does he always taste so good?
You stroke him slowly, relishing the way his cock pulses eagerly in your hands, aching to be engulfed by your warm, wet mouth. You’re acutely aware of the hunger in his gaze, even though you can’t see his eyes. You’re sure he longs to feel your mouth around his dick, just like you can’t wait for him to fill it up.
It’s almost impossible to concentrate on anything other than the electrifying sensation of Jimin’s skilled tongue exploring every inch of your aching pussy, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. Each flick and swirl of his tongue feels like a symphony of ecstasy, igniting a firestorm of desire that consumes your every thought and leaves you gasping for more. It’s so hard to focus on his dick and you can’t help when you press your pussy more onto his face.
“Fuck, Jimin, I’m gonna come soon,” you gasp, your voice a desperate plea as waves of pleasure threaten to overwhelm your senses. You can feel the heat building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter, ready to explode into ecstasy at any moment. His tongue works its magic with sinful expertise, driving you to the brink of oblivion with each tantalizing stroke.
As the overwhelming pleasure of his tongue’s expertise threatens to consume you entirely, you’re suddenly struck with a fierce need for him in return. Releasing his throbbing length from your grasp, you shift your focus, your hands now finding purchase on his strong thighs. With a hunger that burns as fervently as the desire coursing through your veins, you lower yourself onto him, welcoming his dick into the warmth of your mouth. As you close your lips around him, engulfing him in a dizzying sensation of heat and wetness, his response is immediate—a guttural cry that resonates with raw need and primal desire.
You begin to suck him and with each sultry movement of your lips, you draw him deeper, setting a rhythm that ignites a symphony of pleasure between you. His fervent thrusts match the urgency of your ministrations. Sensing his need, you yield further, allowing him to claim your mouth completely, your jaw slackening to accommodate his cock.
You surrender to the dual sensations coursing through you, each touch a symphony of pleasure orchestrated by desire. As he lavishes attention on your clit with fervent suction, you reciprocate with eager enthusiasm, welcoming him deeper into your mouth with each rhythmic thrust.
Your nails sink into the warmth of his flesh, urging him on with an intensity born of unbridled desire. With each press of your fingertips, you silently convey the urgency pulsating within you, a primal need for more, faster, harder. As his pace quickens in response to your silent plea, you find yourself teetering on the edge of euphoria, close to the brink of release.
Every nerve in your body ignites with a ferocious intensity, each sensation amplified tenfold as the coil of pleasure tightens within you, threatening to engulf your senses. Your toes curl involuntarily, a reflexive response to the overwhelming ecstasy coursing through your veins. But you find yourself torn between the desire to alert Jimin to your impending climax and the overwhelming sensation of his mouth on your clit, sending waves of electric pleasure coursing through your body. As saliva pools in your mouth and tears of pleasure blur your vision, you surrender to the maelstrom of sensations, your grip on his thighs tightening with an urgency born of unbridled desire.
You don’t know how to alert him with his cock stuffed so good inside your mouth, but it’s too late anyway when you feel your pussy clenching hard.
As the waves of pleasure crash over you in a torrential downpour, Jimin’s relentless tongue continues its sensual assault, sending shockwaves of ecstasy rippling through every fiber of your being. Your body convulses uncontrollably above him, each movement a testament to the overwhelming intensity of your release. With ragged breaths escaping through your nose, you vocalize your euphoria around his dick, your moans merging with the rhythmic thrusts of his hips as he continues to drive deeper into your quivering form.
Your body trembles with the lingering aftershocks of pleasure as Jimin’s tantalizing lips and sinful tongue work their magic, leaving you teetering on the edge of sanity. Just when you think you can’t take any more, a sharp spank ignites a jolt of electricity through your senses, urging you to lift your ass from his mesmerizing grasp. 
With a soft pop, you relinquish his dick from your mouth, only to eagerly turn around on the couch, pulling him into a passionate kiss that sets your soul ablaze.
With a husky breath, he pulls back, his eyes smoldering with a primal hunger that sends a bolt of anticipation coursing through your veins. “God, I can’t wait to be inside you,” he growls, his voice dripping with raw desire. 
“On all fours, ass up.” 
His commanding tone sparks a delicious thrill, igniting a cascade of sensations that leave you trembling in anticipation. As he instructs you to assume the position, your body responds instinctively, a surge of heat flooding your core as you eagerly comply. Turning on the couch, you present yourself on all fours, your hands resting on the armrest, your ass raised in a provocative invitation that sets his primal instincts ablaze.
Jimin’s primal groan fills the room, his desire palpable as he beholds your enticing display. His teeth sink into his lip with a hunger that borders on desperation, so much so that he might draw blood, his gaze devouring every inch of your exposed form. With a possessive grip, his hands caress the curves of your ass, his touch igniting a fiery sensation that courses through your veins. Then, in a bold declaration of his desire, he delivers a sharp spank, sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, your moan of delight echoing in the air.
“Fuck. This. Ass,” his voice drips with raw desire, his fingers tracing the contours of your ass with a feather-light touch that sends electric currents dancing across your skin. A rush of anticipation floods your senses, your pussy pulsating with need, aching for his touch. With each stroke of his fingers, your pussy clenches involuntarily, yearning for the sensation of him buried deep inside you.
He sits up, gets closer to you as he takes a moment to stroke himself, the anticipation mounting with each passing second. As he spreads your ass cheeks, you feel the heat of his cock radiating against your skin, your body trembling in anticipation as his dick teases your entrance, aching for the moment he fills you completely.
With your head nestled on the armrest, you brace yourself for the exquisite sensation of him entering you. As he pushes his dick into your slick folds, you revel in the delightful stretch, a familiar pleasure that never fails to ignite your senses. Your wetness provides a smooth glide, allowing him to effortlessly slide into your depths, each inch sending ripples of ecstasy coursing through your body.
“Jimin-ah!” You pant desperately as he reaches the hilt, your voice a breathy plea echoing through the room. With every pulse of his hardness inside your pulsating pussy, you feel an electric surge of desire coursing through your veins, igniting a firestorm of sensations that consume you completely.
“Move, please,” you plead, your voice a fervent prayer as you ache for his rhythm to ignite the blaze within you. All you crave is the sensation of him thrusting into you, to fuck you silly.
He grunts, a primal sound echoing in the room, as he withdraws from you with deliberate slowness, savoring every inch of your bodies against each other, before plunging back in, equally unhurried. 
His hands, firm yet tender, mold into the curves of your ass, guiding each deliberate thrust as he establishes a rhythm of unhurried passion. With every stroke, his fingertips trace the lines of your skin, igniting a symphony of sensations that draw forth an involuntary moan of pleasure from deep within you.
His hand connects with a sharp slap against your skin, sending a jolt of sensation coursing through your body. The sudden sting is quickly followed by a surge of desire, igniting a primal need within you. His voice, laced with desire and dominance, breaks the silence as he leans in, breath hot against your ear, “You like this, don’t you?”
His tone carries a hint of menace, but beneath it all, there’s an undeniable allure that sends shivers down your spine. Despite the edge to his voice, it’s like music to your ears, stirring a primal longing deep within you. Your body reacts instinctively, tightening around his dick as a rush of heat floods your senses.
“Yes!” Your voice, muffled by the plush fabric of the armrest, comes out as a breathy plea, tinged with a mix of desire and desperation. 
“Fuck me harder,” you plead with him.
“My love wants it harder?” As his words dance provocatively in the air, you can’t help but feel a rush of heat surging through your veins. 
The playful sting of his palm against your skin ignites a primal fire within you, each slap echoing like a thunderous drumbeat, urging you further into the depths of ecstasy. With each resounding impact, the floodgates of desire open wider, drenching you in a wetness of arousal that threatens to consume every inch of your being.
“Yes!” Your voice reverberates through the room, a primal cry of desire echoing off the walls as you eagerly meet his every movement. 
But just when you think you’ve reached the pinnacle of pleasure, grinding your ass into his dick, he takes control, his grip on your flesh tightening as he unleashes a torrent of raw thrusts. With each thunderous thrust, he fucks you with insane speed, leaving you gasping for breath.
You feel so fucking gone. He hits you so deep, his dick touching your g-spot repeatedly, making you see white spots blurring your vision. You’re panting furiously for air.
“You’re doing so good, love,” he pants, his voice a husky whisper as he strokes your ass, his praise a melody in your ears.
“Jimin, fuck, Jimin—” You pant feverishly, feeling your core tighten as you release a surge of liquid around his dick, coating him in your essence.
His hand connects with your ass in a stinging slap before his touch gentles, caressing the same spot. “So good for me, love,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire and affection.
His grip tightens on your hips, anchoring you to him as the rhythm of your bodies creates a symphony of skin-on-skin percussion that reverberates through the living room. Your fingers dig into the plush fabric of the armrest, muffling your moans as pleasure courses through every fiber of your being.
“Don’t silence yourself, love. I’m close,” he urges, his voice strained with the impending release as his thrusts become more urgent, each one driving you both closer to the edge.
You arch your back further, surrendering to his touch as his hand on your shoulder guides you closer, deeper into him. The sensation of him stretching you out sends waves of ecstasy coursing through your body, causing your eyes to roll back in sheer pleasure.
As he moans your name, his fingers grip the flesh of your hips and ass, holding you close as he releases inside you, filling you with his warm essence.
Your eyes snap open, meeting a pair of startled gazes—one belonging to Yoongi, the other to Taehyung. They stand frozen in the hallway, mouths agape, caught in an unexpected moment of intimacy that leaves them speechless.
Despite the sudden intrusion, Jimin doesn’t miss a beat, continuing to thrust into you. Embarrassment floods through you, but your body responds involuntarily, clenching around him. As you steal a glance, you catch the shift in Yoongi’s expression, his grin widening as he swiftly ushers a stunned Taehyung away from the unexpected scene they’ve stumbled upon.
“Aish! Oh my god! I never wanted to witness my brother doing that. I can never unsee it,” Taehyung’s exasperated voice echoes through the room as Yoongi swiftly escorts him out, the sound of the door opening and closing marking their hasty exit.
Your cheeks burn as you scold yourself for not hearing them entering the house. Fuck this is so humiliating!
Fuck. Did Jimin even notice?
Jimin’s deep, primal grunt resonates above you, his grip on your hips firm as the fusion of his essence and yours traces a sensual path from your pussy down to the couch. The thought of cleaning up later flits briefly through your mind, but that’s not currently what’s on your mind.
“Jimin, did you see them? They saw us!” Your voice trembles with embarrassment, a veil of crimson coating your cheeks as he withdraws from you. With a whirl of nervous energy, you spin around, anticipation and apprehension swirling in your gaze, unsure of what awaits in the aftermath of your indiscretion.
“Yeah. It’s nothing they haven’t seen before,” he chuckles, his nonchalant demeanor a stark contrast to the flush of embarrassment coloring your cheeks. With a casual sweep of his hand through his tousled hair, he dismisses any concern, seemingly unfazed by the fact that his brother and friend just bore witness to the raw intensity of him fucking you on the couch.
“They’ve never actually seen us in the act before!” Your words quiver with a mix of mortification and disbelief, a nervous energy pulsating through your veins. As you speak, a torrent of thoughts floods your mind, the realization dawning upon you that this isn’t the first instance of Jimin’s cavalier attitude toward almost getting caught. 
A nagging suspicion takes root, whispering that maybe he’s more of an exhibitionist than you initially realized, his nonchalance hinting at a hidden desire to be seen and desired.
“Relax, everything will be alright,” he soothes, his words a balm to your frazzled nerves as he descends to kiss you with a fervor that steals your breath away. In that fleeting moment, his lips melding with yours in a passionate embrace, the world falls away, and the weight of their discovery fades into insignificance.
But the embarrassment returns tenfold, making you blush nervously.
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You burst through the door, the cool night air enveloping you in its embrace as you step onto the dimly lit porch. There, illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight, you find both Yoongi and Taehyung, their silhouettes etched against the darkness like guardians of the night, their presence casting a sense of both comfort and nervousness as you join them under the star-studded sky.
Despite feeling overwhelmed with embarrassment, an earnest desire to apologize gnaws at you, urging you to seek redemption for the awkward encounter they witnessed earlier. However, as your gaze locks with theirs, a wave of crimson floods your cheeks.
“I’m so fucking sorry you had to see that,” you blurt out, the weight of your remorse heavy in your voice as you hastily grab a nearby chair, seeking solace in its familiarity. With a deep breath, you settle into your seat, mustering the courage to meet the gaze of both men, your eyes pleading for forgiveness and understanding amidst the awkward tension that hangs in the air.
Yoongi’s laughter fills the night air, a reassuring melody that eases the tension swirling around you. “It’s all good,” he reassures with a grin, his words carrying a playful charm that lifts the weight off your shoulders. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he adds, “And hey, I gotta give credit where it’s due— you’ve got quite a nice pair of tits there.”
“Yoongi!” Your voice rises, cheeks ablaze with a fiery hue that mirrors the heat surging through your body. 
“You’re gay, for heaven’s sake! Why were you even looking?” The mix of incredulity and embarrassment colors your words as you groan, feeling like you've been caught in a whirlwind of awkwardness and heat.
“I’m only human, aren’t I? Even I have eyes,” he retorts with a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, the glint in his eye unapologetically rebellious. “And let’s be honest, a nice pair of tits is something anyone can appreciate,” he adds, punctuating his declaration with a casual sip of his beer, his nonchalant demeanor daring you to challenge his unabashed honesty.
Taehyung’s eyes widen, a silent testament to the shock that grips him, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that speaks volumes. In the hushed moment that follows, his silence echoes louder than words, hinting at the depth of his surprise and leaving you to wonder what thoughts race behind his startled expression.
“I’m truly sorry, Tae,” you confess, your words heavy with remorse, but as you speak, you notice his gaze drifting past you, as if unable to meet your eyes directly. It’s as though his sight is fixed on some distant point, his avoidance speaking volumes about the weight of his own thoughts and emotions swirling beneath the surface.
“You really shouldn’t do that where just anyone could stumble upon you,” he advises in a hushed tone, his voice carrying the weight of a clandestine revelation. “And for everyone’s sake, remember to lock the door next time,” he adds, his tone laced with a palpable sense of having witnessed something he'd rather erase from memory.
“I’m sorry,” you offer, your words carrying the weight of genuine remorse as you seek to mend the discomfort lingering in the air.
“I never wanted to witness my brother in such a way,” he grits through clenched teeth, his fingers pressing against his closed eyelids in a futile attempt to erase the images burned into his mind. “Seeing too much of both my brother and sister-in-law... it’s like a stain on my memory,” he confesses, his voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and discomfort, as if grappling with the irreversibility of what he’s witnessed.
“I’m truly, deeply sorry,” you mumble once more, the weight of regret heavy in your voice as you reflect on the discomfort your actions caused them. The image of you and Jimin in that compromising position hangs in the air, an undeniable reminder of a moment you wish could be erased from memory entirely.
Yoongi’s laughter erupts like a thunderclap, breaking the tension with its raw, unrestrained force. “Welcome to the country,” he chuckles, his tone laced with a mix of amusement and nonchalance. “Get used to it. People fuck where they can around here. Hobi and I once stumbled upon them making lovely noises in the stables,” he shares with a mischievous glint in his eye, as if unveiling a scandalous secret of the country’s unconventional norms.
Taehyung’s eyes widen in disbelief, the shock evident in the trembling of his lips as he utters, “Is nowhere sacred?”
“Yoongi! You promised never to speak of that again!” You hiss through gritted teeth, your cheeks ablaze with the heat of embarrassment.
Yoongi’s laughter intensifies, a raucous melody that dances on the edge of defiance. “It’s just a natural act— it’s just sex,” he remarks, his tone casual as he lifts the beer to his lips for another sip. 
“No need to get your panties in a twist,” he adds, the nonchalant shrug in his demeanor daring you to challenge the simplicity with which he views such intimate moments.
“Hey. Not all of us enjoy watching other people have sex,” Taehyung interjects, his voice carrying a note of reprimand, his arms folding across his chest in a stance of firm disapproval.
“Sorry. We didn’t mean for you to see it,” you gulp, feeling the weight of his disapproval settle heavily upon you. You grasp the gravity of his words; it’s not as though you relish being under scrutiny. It was an unplanned moment of passion. Yet, the realization dawns that you must exercise greater caution in the future.
“I couldn’t care less,” Yoongi rasps, his tone edged with a hint of amusement. “In fact, I’m thrilled you’re getting dick,” he adds with a smirk, his words laced with a playful irreverence that cuts through the tension.
Taehyung coughs abruptly, a spluttering fit seizing him as his beer takes a perilous detour down the wrong passage, his eyes widening in alarm as he struggles to regain composure amidst the unexpected onslaught.
You cast a concerned glance his way, your instinctive response guiding your hand to rest gently on his back, offering a reassuring touch in his moment of distress.
You chuckle nervously, stealing a glance at Yoongi, your cheeks ablaze with a mixture of embarrassment and unabashed honesty. “It’s really good dick,” you admit, your voice tinged with a hint of bashfulness. “Probably the best I’ve ever had,” you confess, your words carrying the weight of a guilty pleasure you can’t quite resist.
Taehyung continues to cough, his struggle for breath punctuating the air with urgency, until finally, with a resigned groan, he declares, “And this is my cue to leave.”
With a lingering glance filled with a mixture of discomfort and amusement, Taehyung slips away, his departure palpable in the weight of his heavy breaths echoing in the wake of his exit, leaving the two of you to grapple with the aftermath of his abrupt departure.
“Did we push him too far?” You offer a wry smile, the regret evident in the furrow of your brow as you grapple with the realization that Taehyung was undoubtedly made uncomfortable by the situation.
“He will be fine. He needs to grow up,” Yoongi leans in, his demeanor conspiratorial as he gestures towards the table, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. “But let’s get back to the real topic at hand. Tell me more about Jimin’s dick,” he continues, his tone suggestive as he shifts the conversation back to the matter of Jimin's prowess.
Your cheeks flare with renewed heat, betraying your unease as a nervous chuckle escapes your lips. “Hold on, are you getting off on this?” You inquire incredulously, your disbelief evident as you ponder the motivations behind his eagerness to delve deeper into the topic.
He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, not at all. I’m just looking out for you, as your best friend,” he reassures, the sincerity in his tone cutting through any lingering doubts. “I’ve got enough dick in my life,” he adds with a casual sip of his beer, before continuing, “But if you ever need to share or talk about it, you know I’m here. You probably don’t want to talk to your sister or Jungkook about it.”
You groan, a mix of frustration and reluctant acknowledgment washing over you, because deep down, you know he’s spot-on. Sharing such intimate details with your sister or Jungkook? Absolutely out of the question. 
As you ponder, you realize you’re not exactly prudish, but the thought of discussing sex openly still makes you squirm. Yet, you also recognize the importance of breaking free from societal taboos surrounding the topic. It’s something you’re determined to improve upon, because there shouldn’t be any shame attached to open dialogue about such a natural aspect of human experience.
Leaning in closer, you confide, “Let me tell you, Jimin’s got some serious skills with both his dick and his tongue. It’s... impressive, to say the least, and that’s all I’m gonna share for now,” you admit, a nervous chuckle bubbling up as you feel the heat rise in your cheeks. Despite the embarrassment, you can’t help but feel a sense of pride in yourself for opening up about such intimate details with your best friend.
“I’m happy for you, truly,” he says with a warm smile, his eyes reflecting the depth of his sincerity. In response, you can’t help but return the smile, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over you as you bask in the warmth of your cherished friendship.
“What about you and Hobi?” you inquire, the lingering blush of embarrassment gradually receding from your cheeks, replaced by a genuine curiosity about your friend’s own romantic endeavors.
He reclines in his chair, a contented smile gracing his lips. “It’s great, actually. Better than ever,” he shares, his voice laced with affection and a profound sense of happiness. “I love him more than words can express,” he adds, his gaze distant yet filled with the warmth of unwavering devotion.
As you nod in understanding, a surge of warmth floods your chest as you catch the unmistakable gleam of adoration in his eyes whenever Hoseok’s name is mentioned. It’s a sight that fills you with a sense of profound joy, your heart swelling with the love that radiates between them, leaving you unable to suppress the smile that spreads across your face.
“I’m genuinely happy. For both of us,” you declare, the overflow of love within you akin to a flurry of delicate butterflies taking flight in your chest. Just as the moment envelops you in its warmth, the door swings open, and Jimin emerges, joining you and Yoongi.
“And I can’t wait to marry the love of my life,” you proclaim, your voice brimming with anticipation and affection as you reach for Jimin’s hand, intertwining your fingers with his as he settles beside you. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, igniting a blaze of love that courses between you, enveloping you both in a cocoon of intimacy and security. In this moment, with him by your side, you feel as though time could stand still, and you wouldn’t mind one bit.
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Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜
Remember the Q&A that is coming in the Epilogue— if you want to send in some questions for the characters, you can do it now (and later too) → Ask the characters (or me), anything ❣️
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duckandrobin · 2 days
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Touch Starved Series Masterlist
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
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Taehyung (BTS) x Reader (soulmate au)
Summary: Your therapist thinks that exposure therapy is your best treatment option. That's how you find yourself sitting on a bench at the dog park on a hot summer day. With only five more minutes until you can leave, a small ball of fur comes sprinting at you and sets off a series of events that change your whole life.
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teenytinyjimin · 2 days
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seventh heaven (k. taehyung & p. jimin)
minors dni. DO NOT INTERACT!
summary: in which taehyung and reader just want to have a little fun with their baby jimin
pairing: taehyung x reader x jimin
word count: 3.5k words
tags: smut, threesome (m/m/f), praise, dom!taehyung, switch!reader, sub!jimin, breeding kink sorta?, edging sorta?, hickeys, fellatio, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, feminine!jimin (let him be a lil girly if he wants), taehyung being good at aftercare, also a lot of consent, consent is important yall
warnings: …smut. no other warnings. i’m not a huge degradation/danger/trauma girlie so no need to worry about that
author’s note: thank u guys sm for the support recently i rly appreciate it <3 also i’m not a huge smut writer but i’m trying to work on writing more of it so pls be gentle with me, this is the first official smut work i’ve literally ever completed (i usually always stop midway through lol)
── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──
Your relationship with Taehyung was nothing short of a dream from the moment it began.
When it came to you and him, everything was perfect. Sure, you had your typical couple arguments every once in a while, but that's what makes a relationship perfectly imperfect. You still go on dates like you did when you first started seeing each other, the flame is still very much alive, and you've built a lot of trust and communication.
So much so that you guys had agreed to open up the relationship not too long ago. Not in the sense that you guys have the freedom to see other people individually (you guys are entirely devoted to one another anyway), but in the sense that if the opportunity to spend the night with a third person arises, you'll both be open for it. You personally found it rather exciting, whereas Taehyung enjoyed seeing your enjoyment. That isn't to say he didn't enjoy it as well, but his priority is, and always will be, your happiness.
Unbeknownst to you, however, Taehyung had a secret weapon. One that he was admittedly a little nervous to use, but knew he had it in his back pocket if he ever wanted it. And that weapon was Park Jimin. His best friend since forever and the boy who secretly had a little crush on you.
It's not like Jimin straight-up told Taehyung that he was crazy for his girlfriend. He wouldn't do something like that knowing it could possibly jeopardize the relationship in question. But Taehyung knew by the way he acted around you and looked at you versus how he acted when you weren't around.
Jimin was a natural flirt, there was no question about that. Just because he loved flirting didn't mean that he wanted to get with someone though. And the one person he seems to never be able to flirt with, the one person he did want to get with, is you. He gets way too shy at the sight of you and he almost feels intimidated by your presence. Everyone has their weaknesses, and his seemed to be you.
The only reason Taehyung hasn't played his Jimin card yet is because he's concerned about their friendship. He doesn't really mind the idea of a threesome with his friend, it's just the fear that it'll change their friendship for the worse instead of for the better. He doesn't want to go through with something like this only for the relationship between them to crumble. We're talking about a friendship that has lasted for years and that has never even come close to dangerous waters. But whether he liked to admit it or not, Taehyung was a people pleaser, and something in the pit of his stomach really urged him to just go for it and see what happens.
And so he decided to go for it. Slowly and with caution, though. If at any time either of you decided to jump ship, he wasn't going to force it. All he wanted to do was see what would happen if you were posed with the opportunity.
So now, here you sat, the three of you cuddled up on your living room couch, a movie playing on the television. Platonic intimacy wasn't abnormal for you guys when it came to Jimin – he tended to be a touchy person around the people he cares about and it has nothing to do with romance or sex. You currently had your head in his lap and he had an arm draped around you, with his own head resting on Taehyung's shoulder. At the moment he seemed completely calm and collected, however neither you nor your boyfriend knew that his heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest, simply because of you.
“Mm,” you suddenly hummed after an eternity of silence, causing Jimin’s eyes to nearly pop out of their sockets. Having your head close to such valuable parts was one thing, but to make noise that caused the whole area to vibrate was something otherworldly. With all of his might, the poor boy was trying to ignore what just happened for the sake of you not realizing that there was currently a growing hardness under your head. Biting his lip and gently pinching his arm, he attempted to focus on the movie on the television as a way to distract himself from the situation.
Alas, you didn’t shut up to his dismay. However, you did move, which was nothing short of a miracle to him. You lifted your head up from your lap to look over at your boyfriend, a pout on your face. “Love, this is boring,” you whined. Being laid down with your head craned upwards wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable thing in the world so you took a hand and rested it on Jimin’s thigh so that you were propped up with a little bit of support. While your hand held a little bit of weight to it considering the fact that it was helping you stay up, the fact that you once again were extremely close to his crotch nearly sent him to an early grave. His breath hitched ever so slightly and he closed his eyes, trying to shut out everything around him.
“Sorry, Angel,” Taehyung crossed his arms and frowned. “Couldn’t find anything else that was good.” While he looked as if he was entirely focused on you and your upset, he was well aware of the pain you were causing his friend. If his weird behaviors weren’t enough to convince him that he was struggling underneath you, Taehyung’s prior knowledge of Jimin’s attractive definitely was. Just your existence alone was enough to cause the man to be absolutely weak in the knees.
“Pfft,” You rolled your eyes, flopping your head back into Jimin’s lap. “You’re lame for that, Tae. Jimin wouldn’t treat me like that. He’d find something better to watch or do,” You looked up at the boy, who was doing everything he could to avoid eye contact. “Isn’t that right Minnie?”
Heart stopping at the sound of you speaking to him, Jimin shrugged and squeaked out a quick ‘yeah’, not wanting to further the conversation. Had he not known any better, he would’ve thought you were flirting with him and trying to suggest something. But you were in a relationship, that wasn’t possible.
“Well, don’t let me stop you then,” Taehyung looked at both you and Jimin with a smirk on his face as if he were challenging you with your own words. If he knew one thing about you, it was that you didn’t like being challenged and you would prove him wrong in any way possible in an attempt to piss him off. But you knew exactly where he was going with this. He wanted you to prove him wrong for his enjoyment as well as your own.
Reaching one of your arms upward, you gently wrapped your hand around the back of Jimin’s head and guided it down toward yours. When his face was only a few inches from your own you stopped to admire his features. He was a beautiful human, there was no doubt about it, but you never really got the chance to admire him so closely until now. His eyes, though wide with shock, were glimmering and you could almost see little hearts floating around in them. His lips, so big and plump, were the most kissable shade of pink. His skin, so soft and supple, gleamed in the low light of the living room.
Moving your hand to his cheek, you took your thumb and swiped it across his bottom lip gently and slowly. At this point his eyes were no longer wide in shock, but instead relaxed and shy. He looked at you through his eyelashes and if you were honest, you weren’t entirely sure what was going through his head. He was so difficult to read sometimes.
“Are you okay with this?” You whispered gently, keeping eye contact with him. The second he said ‘no’ you were ready to push yourself off of him and respect his boundaries, but you were just as ready to dive head-first into passion if he said ‘yes’. You watched as his eyes went from calm and collected to lusty and pleading, his lips parting slightly. “Yes, please, yes,” He whispered, his tone nearly resembling a whimper. As if his response was music to your ears, you let out a pleased hum as you closed the gap between you and locked your lips with his.
The kiss you shared with Jimin was an experience you had never felt before. Your kisses with Taehyung were otherworldly, incredible, perfect for lack of a better word. But this experience with Jimin was completely new. He was an incredibly soft kisser, his lips moving in perfect harmony with yours, and despite not being able to speak to you he was able to communicate exactly what he wanted and needed just through his kissing. He was needy while still being respectful, and hungry while still being reserved. Yet he matched your energy perfectly with no interest in heating things up unless you initiated it.
As you continued to kiss Jimin for what seemed like eons, you felt a familiar pair of hands slowly make their way from your thighs up to the hem of your pants. Taehyung's touch alone was enough to make you absolutely melt, your arousal going from high to insane within a matter of seconds. There was something about feeling his strong, warm hands trace the hem of your pants before gently unbuttoning them and pulling them down past your knees and then completely off. You let out a soft moan into Jimin's mouth as you felt Taehyung's lips make contact with your inner thighs, kissing them gently and lovingly.
"Mm," Taehyung hummed as he placed one final kiss on your upper thigh, a mere inch away from your throbbing heat. "Looks like my baby's ready for your touch, Minnie," He continued, swiping a thumb down your wet underwear. The feeling of his finger running down your most sensitive area sent a chill down your spine as you squirmed toward him, whining for more of him. Jimin broke the kiss as he looked over at Taehyung with lidded eyes. You could tell by his facial expression that he was in absolute heaven right now. After all, he was getting everything he wanted and more. "C'mere," Taehyung cooed, beckoning Jimin to switch places with him. Happy to oblige, the two swapped spots.
Uninterested in keeping you waiting, Taehyung attached his lips to yours. You were slightly taken aback by the change in pace considering your boyfriend was much more confident and aggressive about what he wanted, but once you were able to match his energy you were able to enjoy the fireworks you always felt when you were kissing him. After a moment of kissing, he pulled away from you so that he could start discarding some of his clothing before helping you pull your shirt over your head.
Jimin, who was now at your thighs, mirrored Taehyung's earlier actions and began peppering your thighs with kisses. As he trailed up from your knees to the hem of your underwear, he used gentle fingers to latch onto the waistband before looking up at you. "I-Is this okay?" He asked softly and shyly, wanting to make sure that he was allowed to go further and that this wasn't just some trick. Letting out a soft hum you ran a hand through his hair and pet his head. "Of course baby, go ahead and have what you want."
Once given the okay, the man didn't stop himself from quickly discarding your underwear and bringing a finger to circle your clit. Letting out a gasp of air, you threw your head back, trying to stop yourself from letting out perhaps the loudest moan you would have ever produced. Soon enough Taehyung's lips found their way back to yours as you continued to make out. You brought a hand down to his hip before slipping your hand down his boxers and feeling your way to his erection. Your boyfriend let out a gentle grunt into your mouth at your touch, his brain foggy with bliss.
As you continued to move your hand along Taehyung's dick, you felt a gentle finger slip into your entrance, and then a second. You let out a soft moan and instinctually pushed yourself down onto Jimin's fingers which began slowly moving in and out of you. They were different from Taehyung's, much smaller, but were able to get the job done very well. When his fingers were as deep as they could possibly go, he curled them, hitting all the right spots in all the right ways.
"Mmh," You whimpered into Taehyung's mouth as you felt your partner smile against your lips before pulling away. He went to go take his boxers off so that his dick could be free for you to do whatever you please to, but you beat him to the punch and immediately attached both hands to the waistband and yanked them down. With a smirk on his face, Taehyung leaned down to give you one more gentle kiss before taking his hand and giving his cock a couple of pumps. "Someone's a little impatient," he hummed, causing you to whimper once again.
As soon as he got close enough to you, you took your boyfriend's dick into one hand and ran your tongue along the tip, eliciting an impulsive moan of pleasure to come out of his mouth. You gave the tip just a couple more licks before beginning to take his length into your mouth. Just as you were doing so, however, you felt a new presence at your core. Not only was Jimin continuing to finger you, but he now attached his mouth to your clit, giving it the gentlest of kitten licks as a way to playfully tease at it. You let out an ecstatic moan which caused your entire mouth to vibrate and caused Taehyung to throw his head back in pleasure.
"You're doing... so good... baby... so good," Taehyung breathed out as he began to slowly thrust in and out of your mouth, bringing his hand to cup one of your breasts. As he moved in and out you continued to swirl your tongue around as best as you could, letting out the occasional moan when Jimin hit your clit in just the right way with his tongue. As he continued to double-stimulate you with both his tongue and his fingers, you brought a hand down to grab at his hair. He let out a soft moan in surprise, not expecting you to grab for him, which caused an even greater rush of pleasure to your clit. He let out a couple more moans and hums, knowing it was helping get you along, until you were seeing stars behind your eyelids and your orgasm came to you not just like a wave, but like a full-blown tsunami.
With your mouth still preoccupied with Taehyung, you attemped to look out of the corner of your eye to see Jimin come up for air. From what you could tell, he looked as beautiful as always, though with tousled hair and a face sheen from your wetness. You watched as, with pleading eyes, he looked up at your boyfriend "Please let me fuck her, Tae."
Taehyung, who was far too busy riding his own high, was snapped back to reality when he heard his friend beg. He pulled his dick from your mouth momentarily, somewhat edging himself, to reach over and swipe a hand over Jimin's sweat-beaded forehead before giving him a nod. "Be gentle with her, Minnie. Don't wanna hurt my angel now, do we?" The older boy gave an eager nod as he began stripping himself of his clothes. You admired his toned figure for a moment before Taehyung guided your chin with your hand to face him. You looked up at him, his hair ever-so-slightly damp with sweat, as reached down and gave you a tender kiss. "You look so beautiful, darling... so perfect," He mumbled, kissing you again before trailing down your jawline and neck. After every couple of kisses he would bite down and suck, leaving prominent hickeys all over the upper half of your body.
Completely forgetting about anything else for a moment, you get caught up in the pleasure of your boyfriend marking you and gasp at the feeling of the tip of Jimin's cock rubbing against your entrance. You feel it twitch slightly at the contact as you already hear a soft moan escape the boy's lips. Before you could even think about anything else he bucks his hips forward as he pushes himself into you, letting out a low whimper until he bottoms out. You throw your head back in pleasure, arching your back and gripping the couch below you. Taehyung comes up from kissing and marking you to look at your face, admiring the pleasure that was coursing through your features. He took a hand and caressed your cheek, murmuring sweet nothings to you while both you and Jimin adjusted to the contact.
Once Jimin was used to feeling you around him he began to slowly thrust in and out of you, going as deep as possible each time he thrusted back in. He was hitting all of the right places and it was driving you absolutely wild, causing you to let out uncontrolled moans each time he reached your g-spot. In an attempt to take advantage of your moans and to chase his own pleasure again, Taehyung returned his dick to your mouth, letting the tip touch the back of your throat so that it would get the most intense vibrations whenever you let out a sound.
At this point, the three of you were going crazy. All that could be heard throughout the house was a chorus of moans, whimpers, and grunts as the two boys thrust in and out of you and you consumed yourself with the pleasure that you were feeling. As Jimin's moans became more breathy and needy, they began to become straight up whines. "I'm..." He panted, unable to form a complete sentence as he began to ride his high. Taehyung, aware of what was happening, stopped momentarily. "On her stomach, Jimin," He snapped. He wasn't going to let his friend cum inside of you even if that meant grabbing him and pulling him out of you himself.
Fortunately able to respect Taehyung's wishes, Jimin pulled out just in time, his dick twitching as ropes of white coated your stomach. He pumped his cock with his hand a couple of times to make sure he got all of the cum out, but after doing so completely collapsed onto the couch, eyes glossed over as he was caught in a daze of euphoria. Your boyfriend pulled his own cock out of your mouth as he grabbed you and gently turned you so that he was able to enter your cunt himself, thrusting in and out of you with sporadic passion and energy.
As he continued Jimin's job of hitting your g-spot, he brought a hand to your clit and rubbed his thumb over it, causing you to twitch under his touch. You let out uncontrolled moans as Taehyung's own moans started to turn into whimpers as he got closer. You began to tighten around him as you rode your own orgasm and he released inside of you shortly after, painting your walls white. As he let every last drop of his cum enter you he continued to thrust sloppily, ensuring his seed was staying inside. Once it got overstimulating, however, he pulled out and flopped down onto the couch between you and Jimin.
"You did so well," Taehyung cooed, pulling you close to him and giving you a kiss on the forehead. He then turned to Jimin and caressed his face, pushing his sweat-dampened hair out of his eyes and rubbing his cheek gently. Jimin was still far too dazed to speak or react to Taehyung's words or actions. He was still in complete shock that this even happened in the first place, but he wasn't about to say that he wasn't thankful that it did.
You watched your boyfriend through lidded eyes as he got up to go retrieve a towel from the bathroom that he could use to wipe your stomach as well as between your legs. He knew that you would probably go take a shower anyway, which is what you should do, but he didn't really want you to be sitting there in that state anyway.
Once done cleaning you up, he pressed a tender kiss to your lips. The three of you eventually got redressed for the time being so that you could appropriately resume your boring movie and watch it to the end. Because let's be honest, even though the movie sucked, you loved each other's company and you didn't want the night to end.
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arxims · 2 days
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ANGEL BABY, ANGEL
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When a 17 year old teenager, Summon a 'Demon' in order to help him to complete his math homework
Teenager!Jungkook x demon!reader
:- Fluff, minor Jungkook, no romantic relationship, He is the purest soul ever, don't be dumb like Jungkook, demon is not demoning
Word count : 3k
_ Inspired from a character ai bot
Jungkook didn't like math. Nor did he liked homeworks. He despised the idea of homeworks. Why can't teachers do it in class instead of burdening children? That's what he thought when he looked at the brain-eating sequence of numbers and letters in front of him, in the name of a math problem.
Math is a sucker. It really is. Can't even solve their own problems and ask us to solve it. A constant headache
Jungkook let out a sigh and closed his book. Math was just too hard for him Especially calculus and algebra, and he hated having to struggle through the homework. But it didn't look like he had much of a choice. He was stuck with this mind-twisting problem, and he didn't have any clue how to solve it. He wished there was some way to get help, but there was no one around and he didn't want to ask his parents for help either. He's just stuck in this cycle. Forever
Jungkook was a curious kid. A really curious one. His grandmother was the one who fed his curiosity. With stories of Animals, kings and Guardian angels and demons....
Demons…
Jungkook had heard about the dark supernatural creatures before, but he hadn't really believed in them. Like he doesn't believe in guardian angels. They were just stories, he thought. But now that he was desperate and needed help with his math homework, maybe summoning a demon wasn't such a bad idea after all…
The thought of summoning a demon has been in his mind for a while. And this situation seems perfect to help his curiosity of what it would feel like to summon a demon. The demons he heard about were dangerous, evil, bloodlusted demons who feast on souls. But he always wanted to find out whether they exist and if they do, does they actually fit into that description
Jungkook's curiosity was piqued. He knew that demons were supposed to be dangerous, awful creatures, but he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to it than that. Could he really summon a demon? Would it actually help him with his homework? And what would happen if he did manage to summon one?
His doubt number one, which was about the existence of demons, was solved when he found a grown woman appeared out of nowhere in the darkness of the corner of his room, with an intoxicating beauty, tall figure and soft features. ‘Can demons be this beautiful? And soft?’
Jungkook's jaw dropped. A demon! Right here in his room! He had summoned her! He had actually summoned a demon! She was beautiful. And most importantly, she seemed to be willing to help him with his math homework. This was definitely not what he had expected!
"Here we go again" A tone was evident in her voice “Why am i here exactly?”
"Actually, I just need help with my math homework..." Jungkook replied, feeling a little embarrassed about asking for such a trivial thing.
"I'm sorry, what?" She uncrossed her arms and leaned her ear in disbelief to make sure she heard it right.
Jungkook repeated himself, sounding a bit more confident now. "Yeah, I was just wondering if you could help me with my math homework? It's just this one problem that I've been struggling with for a while and I can't seem to figure it out…”
"Ask Google not me" She shook her head in disbelief. It was hard for her to believe that a human summoned her to do his math homework.. For math homework.
"I tried Google already, but I still couldn't figure it out..." Jungkook replied, feeling a little frustrated. "I'm sorry, I know this is a stupid reason to summon a demon, but I'm just really stuck and I don't know what else to do…”
"You know i can gawk your eyeballs out and make you eat them yourself if i want to" She didn't actually mean it. But she played along
Jungkook froze up in fear. He had heard about what demons were capable of, and this one sounded like she wasn't afraid to make an example out of him if he got on her bad side.
"Ok so. What do I get in return? I mostly aim for souls. Or blood" She craned her neck backwards to crack a bone
He gulped as realization set in. He needed to make a deal with the demon. He needed to give her something in return for help with his math homework. But what could he possibly offer that would be of value to a demon? He thought quickly, trying to come up with something…
"I...um...." Jungkook trailed off, feeling hopelessly stuck. He looked around the room frantically, searching for something, anything that he could offer the demon in exchange for help with his math homework. But he had nothing in his room that he thought would be worth anything to a demon, and he knew he couldn't give her his soul or blood. There was just nothing he had that could satisfy her…
"Any time now, Human" Her foot tapped impatiently on the wooden floor and Jungkook was running out of time and options. There was nothing in his room that would be of interest to a demon. His heart sank, realizing that he wouldn't be able to make a deal, and that she would leave him without helping him with his math homework. He was losing hope, until his eye caught something in the corner of the room…
"I have something that might interest you..." Jungkook said as he reached the item and held it up for the demon to see. It was a tiny little object,
As the woman's eyes locked on it, Jungkook held his breath, hoping that he had found the perfect thing…Jungkook held up the tiny object in front of the demon, feeling hopeful. This was his last chance to make a deal, and he had to make it count.
"What is this?" She arched her eyebrow and crossed her arm
Jungkook held up the tiny object in front of the demon, feeling hopeful. This was his last chance to make a deal, and he had to make it count. "It's a soul jar," he said nervously. "It's a magical item that can capture souls. I don't know exactly how it works, but I read about it in one of my books and I think you might be interested in it…”
Jungkook received a laugh in return "You really fell for that shit?"
His heart sank as She laughed at him. He had thought he had found the perfect thing to offer her, and it turned out to be nothing but a joke. "What...what do you mean?" he asked hesitantly. "Don't you want this?”
"Someone scammed you, Human. Souls cannot be contained like that"
"You mean...this thing is not really a soul jar?" Jungkook asked, feeling like a fool. "But...but I read about it in a book..." He trailed off, realizing the truth. It had all been a scam, and he had fallen for it. He felt a sinking feeling of disappointment in his stomach as he looked at the useless item in his hands.
"Ok which book?"
Jungkook stared at her for a moment, trying to recall what book he had read about soul jars in. "Um...I think it was...something about demonic magic?" he replied hesitantly. "I don't remember exactly, but it talked about a demon who captured the souls of humans inside of tiny jars. It said that the demon could use the souls for various things, including increasing their own power…”
She laughed again "How old were you?"
He felt his face flush with embarrassment as he realized how naive he had been. "I think I was around ten or eleven..." he replied, feeling slightly ashamed of himself.
"How old are you now?"
"I'm...um...17..." He replied, avoiding the demon's gaze. He didn't want to admit how long he had believed in that silly story.
"Explains you stupidity. You believe everything you hear right?" She waved her hand
Jungkook flinched as the demon brushed him off so casually. He felt stupid now that he had believed something so ridiculous for so long. "So...what should I do now?" he asked, feeling hopeless. "Do you know any way that I can make a deal with you so that you can help me with my math homework?”
"Sell your soul. Duh" She said it in a matter of fact tone. The boy froze in shock. He couldn't believe the demon's response. Sell his soul? Was that the only way to get help with his homework? After a few moments of hesitation, he finally worked up the courage to ask his next question. "You...you would help me with my math homework if I sold my soul to you?”
"Yes. Of course I can" She gave him a sarcastic smile
Jungkook was speechless for a moment, unable to believe what he was hearing. Would he really sell his soul just to get help with his math homework? The demon was offering him exactly what he needed, but was it really worth it to risk his immortal soul for something so menial? Jungkook thought about the consequences, but the fear of not being able to finish his homework was overwhelming…"Okay, then I'm willing to sell my soul to you in return for your help" Jungkook conceded, his mouth dry with fear. "Just...just please help me with my math homework. And please keep an eye out for the next math problem, because I'm still a little confused about it…”
The Woman started laughing again. Not laughing actually. She was cackling. "All my life I thought humans were smart and then you showed up"
He felt his poor heart sink as the demon laughed at him. He had thought he was making a smart deal, but instead, he had made himself look like a fool. The demon's mockery stung, and he felt a hot flush of anger rising up inside of him. "What's so funny?" he snapped. He refused to let the demon treat him like he was dumb.
"You and your responses are funny. Seriously. I was so bored just watching" She managed to stop her laugh "Who sells their soul for math homework?"
"Someone who's desperate!" Jungkook shouted back. "I don't care what you think about it, I just need help with my homework. So are you going to help me or not?!”
"Oh feisty. What's your name, little human?"
"My name is Jungkook," he replied, trying to sound strong and not let his anger show. "And I'm not a little human. I'm almost 18!”
"Ok Jungkook.. Chill.. Tell me why you're so desperate for a homework problem?" She casually sat on his study desk chair, noticing the open book and the problem which made him struggle
Jungkook was still fuming inside, but he tried to keep his emotions in check and responded calmly to the demon's question. "I'm just really stuck on this math problem, and I've had no luck getting any help from anyone else." He explained, pointing at the book and the problem he had been working on. "I've tried everything, but I just can't seem to get the right answer. And I'm running out of time to finish it.”
"No. I asked why. You're so afraid of it.. Why..”
Jungkook was caught off-guard by the demon's question. "What do you mean, why?" he asked, feeling a little confused. "I'm not afraid of it, I just can't figure it out. It's just too hard for me. I don't know what I'm doing wrong…”
"Your parents pressure you don't they?" She raised a perfectly threaded eyebrow
The boy let out a sigh. "Yeah...they do. They always push me to get good grades in school, and they expect me to get the best marks." He felt a bit embarrassed admitting that, but he couldn't deny it. His parents were strict when it came to academics, and they didn't tolerate failure.
"And you're afraid of failure" She tilted her head
"Well...yeah" Jungkook replied, realizing that there was no point in denying it. He WAS afraid of failure. He had been taught from a young age to always strive for perfection, and anything less was considered unacceptable.
"That's the problem, That IS the problem" She abruptly stood from the chair, snapping her fingers at the boy
Jungkook was suddenly filled with dread when he realized that she was right. His fear of failure was the real problem, the reason why he was so desperate for help with his math homework. Because he couldn't bear to fail, even in something as trivial as math homework.
"Jungkook" her hand rested on his shoulder. "Humans have a problem. They think that the perfect man always wins. But it's a complete bullshit"
After a pause, she started. "I've lived a lot longer than humans . More than ten thousand years. I've seen people. I've witnessed their lives. From birth to death. You know what I learned from all of it?"
The boy's interest piqued to find out what the demon had learned from observing humans for millennia, so he nodded his head and waited for the demon to continue.” Please enlighten me”
"Nothing is perfect. No one is perfect. And a man who always wins isn't perfect either. We learn from failures. It's a universal law. Learn from your mistakes. Try again. And a silly homework isn't gonna end the world. I'm not saying it's not important. But don't let the pressure get in here" She pointed her finger on his head. Her tone was firm but with a soft edge. And her voice was calming him. It gave him a sense of relief
Jungkook couldn't help but smile as he listened to the wise demon's words. Maybe summoning a demon wasn't a bad idea after all.
"You're right...you're right. It's not the end of the world if I fail. I just need to try again. I just need to not let the pressure get to me." He could feel a sense of calmness wash over him as he processed the woman's words.
"You're just seeing yourself small. You're a smart kid, Jungkook" She made him sit on his bed. She could sense the tiredness and exhaustion lingering behind the poor boy's eyes. He is an innocent soul. A pure one. A bearer of a fragile glass heart. People could easily trick him, make him feel weak. And she was glad that he didn't succeed in summoning some being who will make use of his innocence.
It surprised him. how perceptive the demon was. He had always tried to appear strong and confident, but he realized that the demon could somehow see past his facade. He felt like a weight was being lifted off his shoulders. He was indeed tired and exhausted from the constant pressure to perform and excel in everything he did. Maybe a person who could help him get off the expectations and give him advice was all he needed. But he wasn't blessed with such a person. It's a saddening fact.
The ‘Demon’ interrupted the silence "Have you ever heard the saying?.Practice like you never won, perform like you never failed. It makes a little sense if you rethink. Being afraid of failure only makes you get closer to it. It's all in here" She pointed her own head "And you really think you can't figure out a math problem?"
Her insightful words hit him like a ton of bricks. She was right...his fear of failure was what was holding him back. He needed to change his mindset and start viewing his failures as opportunities to learn and improve rather than something to be afraid of. As he thought about her words, the demon's question sunk in too. "Can I really figure it out?" he asked, feeling his hope and confidence swell inside of him. "I can do it...I can figure it out…”
"You can. I know everything." She gave him a playful wink
Jungkook smiled back at the her. She had a way of lifting his spirits, even in the most difficult of situations. "I'm going to figure it out..." he determined. "I'm going to solve that goddamn math problem...and it probably won't be so hard once I'm not so stressed out about it…”
"See. That's my boy." She patted his shoulder "But now you need rest. You haven't slept properly for a while"
Jungkook nodded his head, realizing that he was indeed extremely tired. He had been so stressed out and busy with his homework that he had barely gotten any sleep. "I guess I do need to rest" he conceded, feeling his eyelids getting heavier and heavier.
"Wake up with a clear head tomorrow. And give it a try"
"I will. I really will" Jungkook replied, feeling his eyelids close over his eyes, unable to fight the tiredness any longer."Sleep now " She ruffled his hair as he fell asleep, completely
Jungkook drifted off into a deep, peaceful sleep, feeling the soft touch of the demon's hand on his hair. He had been under such intense pressure for so long, and the fatigue was finally catching up to him. As he fell asleep, he smiled contentedly as a wave of relief washed over him. She kept patting his head. He really deserves to be called a good boy. It amazed her that 17 years of his life didn't corrupt him. He worked so hard to make his parents proud and never thought about going in the wrong direction. He earned a visit from her. When she wasn't a being who usually exposed herself infront of humans directly. But he deserved it.
_
Jungkook woke up full of relief and peace the next morning. Soft sunlight easing his mind
Jungkook slowly sat up, feeling his mind clear and calm. His thoughts felt organized and focused, and he felt a sense of positivity filling his heart. The demon's words from the night before had made a profound effect on him. He was ready to tackle his math problem with a fresh perspective, knowing that it wouldn't feel so overwhelming or impossible if he just didn't put so much pressure on himself.He sat on his study desk and opened his notebook. But his math problem..
It was already solved..
Someone has solved it…
It startled him for a moment
He flipped through the notebook, curious to see who had solved it. When he flipped to the middle page, he saw that the solution was written in a handwriting that he recognized. A feeling of confusion and amazement washed over him as he realized…
A white feather, and a note was placed with it. Written in smooth handwriting.
'A small kickstart for you :)
- your demon
Or should I say, guardian angel?'
18 notes · View notes
wintaerbaer · 2 months
Text
bottle up old love (jjk) (m)
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summary: Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.
pairing: Jungkook x Reader
rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)
genre: exes to lovers, the holy trinity of angst/smut/fluff
word count: 4.6k (this was supposed to be a drabble 💀)
prompt: JK + exes to lovers + "I'm sorry" + "I hate you" + "Don't fucking touch me" + "Leave" (for @btsborahaee <3)
warnings: language, a short harassment scene at the beginning (nothing too intense), explicit content including: unprotected sex (DO NOT), fingering, praise kink, biting, marking, spanking, cum eating (sort of?), big cawk soft dom jk, cowgirl (yeehaw), creampie, cockwarming, i think that's all but this also wasn't supposed to be too smutty so clearly idk what's going on lol
MASTERLIST
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“Don’t fucking touch me!”
You spit the words at the man in front of you, pushing him back as he tries to make another grab at your arm.
“Why do you gotta be like that?” Seungcheol whines. “I thought we were having fun.”
“You and I have very different ideas of fun.” You take a step backwards towards your building. Somewhere down the sidewalk, footsteps clatter against the pavement.
“C’mon.” He matches your movement, reaches for you again. “Invite me up. You enjoyed the last time, didn’t you? I told you that was just a warm-up.”
The building’s brick wall is closer than you thought, and you bang your shoulder against it as you try to sidestep him. “Last time you didn’t follow me to a bar I didn’t even invite you to. How did you know where I was anyway?”
“Let me come up, and I’ll tell you,” he rumbles with a flicker of his eyebrows. He has you fully backed up against the wall now, and you press against the muscle of his chest to no avail.
“Stop!” you shout before he’s ripped away from you so suddenly that you’re left blinking in confusion, huddled against the brick.
There’s a thud–the sound of a fist hitting flesh–and a yelp before Seungcheol is reeling back with his hands clutching his nose. Blood seeps out from beneath his fingers, black even under the glow of the streetlamps.
“What the fuck?” he shrieks, and it’s only then that you take a proper look at your savior, looking every bit like he’s stepped straight out of the shadows with his dark hair, ebony clothes, and deep brown eyes.
And a lead weight drops into your stomach as you recognize him.
Jungkook sets himself between you and Seungcheol, looming over the latter as he continues to cover his face, whining. “I’m giving you ten seconds to get out of here.”
“Who the fuck are you?!”
“Ten,” Jungkook growls, taking a step in Seungcheol’s direction. “Nine.”
Seungcheol straightens–clearly a last-ditch attempt to look intimidating. Spitting blood onto the concrete, he peers at you over Jungkook’s shoulder. “This isn’t over, bitch.”
Then he spins and takes off running down the street.
Your hands grip your elbows. It may be a balmy summer night, but you’re shivering where you stand, unsure whether you’re more affected by Seungcheol’s behavior or the ghost who’s unexpectedly in front of you.
“Are you okay?” he quietly asks, gaze fixed on your face. You stare at your shoes and give him a brisk nod as a response before turning away, punching in your building code, and walking through the front door.
He follows closely, slipping in behind you and trailing a few feet. You let him for a little while, guiding him through the modest lobby and up the first flight of stairs. But when you’re halfway up the second stairwell–almost to your floor–you pause on the landing, spinning his way.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
His eyes are gentle, sincere. “Making sure you get in safely.”
“There’s no need for that,” you assert. “I’m already in my building. There’s a keypad. I’m good.”
“The keypad does almost nothing. I followed you in no problem.”
“So I should be worried about you then?”
He flushes, the tips of his ears going pink. “Please just let me see you inside.”
You want to argue back, want to shout at him and make a scene, but you know it’s no use. Know that he’s stubborn as a bull and will get what he wants one way or another.
It’s how he broke up with you after all.
You say nothing, only hustle up the last set of steps and down the dimly-lit hallway until you’re in front of your door, Jungkook tailing you the whole time with his hands in his pockets. You practically fumble your key in your haste to get it into the lock, letting out a satisfied sigh as the latch finally clicks open.
“There. I’m in,” you say as you step over the threshold, waving a dismissive hand at your unwanted companion. “Leave.”
But he hesitates just outside the doorway, teeth chewing at the corner of his lip. “What are you going to do if he comes back?”
“That’s my problem, isn’t it? I stopped being your concern when you dropped me out of nowhere a year ago.”
Your eyes sting at the memory, tears threatening to spill over. You don’t want him here. Don’t want to see him or have him anywhere in your vicinity. Not when it still hurts like this.
Though, truth be told, you don’t expect to ever be fully over him.
“We’re done, Jungkook,” you murmur. “You made sure of that.”
And you close the door in his face.
The distress subsides quickly once he’s out of sight–like he was never there to begin with–and you don’t linger, dropping your bag on the sofa and heading straight for the bathroom. This is how you’ve made it a year without him; it was weeks of crying before you realized that wallowing was doing you no good, only fueling your misery instead of providing any kind of catharsis. So you’ve done your best to simply push past it and cast away the anguish that bubbles up every time you think of him. Not allow it to linger like the shadows at the edges of the room.
You shed your clothes and turn the shower to a temperature that you’ll probably regret later. But for now, you savor the way the water sears your skin as you wash away the day with all of its unpleasant surprises. Taking your time, you scrub every inch of your body and carefully shampoo your hair (trying not to fall back into the fantasy that’s plagued you on occasion where it’s his hands and not yours spreading the bubbles over your form).
The self-care continues as you step out of the shower and leisurely work through your skin care routine, even taking the time to blow dry your hair. By the time you exit the bathroom, the fog on the mirror has dissipated, and you’ve once again successfully tamped down the memory of Jungkook and his hands and eyes and everything you ever felt for him.
Or so you think.
After popping into your bedroom to pull on some pajamas, you pad back into the living room for a glass of water, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the front door. Regret attempts to push its way into your consciousness against your better judgment. The man broke your heart, yes. But you do feel a little guilty slamming the door in his face after he just fought off a creep for you.
And speaking of Seungcheol, what if he does come back? You’re pretty sure he saw you punch in the building code the night you brought him home with you, and given his behavior, you wouldn’t be surprised if he filed it away in his head.
Anxiety winning out, you creep to the door and peer through the peephole. The hallway looks empty, drab beige walls taking up most of your field of view, but you jump as you spot a hulking shadow to the right. Your heartbeat races then slows, a closer look revealing hunched, unmoving shoulders wrapped in a familiar black t-shirt.
Jungkook swings his head to look at you as you open the door and glare down at him. His legs are pulled up, arms resting on his knees, and it might be endearing if not for the fact that he absolutely, positively should not be here.
“What are you doing?” you ask him for the second time tonight.
“He might come back.”
“And you’re going to what? Fight him?”
He shrugs. “If I have to.”
“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, challenging. “You’re going to sit out here all night?”
He shifts where he sits, wiggling his hips like he’s firmly planting his butt into his chosen spot. “Yes.”
You roll your eyes at him but don’t doubt that he would. Again, if there is anything you know this man to be, it’s stubborn. “You’re going to scare the neighbors.”
“Who, Mrs. Kwon?” A tiny smile plays on his lips as he glances in the direction of your elderly neighbor’s apartment. “I think she’d be delighted to see me.”
If you’re being honest, she probably would be. She’s always adored Jungkook and praised him as the “kind, handsome young man” who helped her put away groceries and fixed her leaky faucet one time. In the months following your breakup, she’d asked about him once or twice, patting your arm reassuringly when you awkwardly told her she wouldn’t be seeing him anymore.
“Don’t worry, dear,” she said. “He’ll come around.”
Well she’s turned out to be right in that he’s certainly back here again, still watching you from his spot on the floor. And you don’t know whether it’s his big doe eyes or the fact that he really would guard your apartment all night if you let him or the genuine fear that one of the other neighbors will make a fuss at his presence, but you feel yourself softening.
Turning abruptly, you stride into the kitchen for your glass of water, walking out of sight of the door, which is still wide open.
“You coming?” you call, pulling two glasses down from the cupboard.
There’s a rustle as Jungkook stands and shuffles into your apartment, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. For someone who was so determined to defend you tonight, he seems uncertain now that he’s actually inside. His hands are once again stuffed in his pockets, and his eyes flicker around like he hasn’t been here a thousand times. Hasn’t cooked you breakfast in this kitchen in nothing but his boxers. Hasn’t watched The Notebook with you on this TV and held you as you both cried.
Hasn’t made love to you on the couch.
You slide a water his way, and he murmurs his thanks, sipping at it lightly. It’s strange–seeing him here again–and you can’t help but think about the last time he stood in this room. It’d been a maelstrom of accusations and hurt feelings that culminated in him storming out, the slam of the door echoing in your ears.
“You never cleaned that?” He gestures at the rug that covers most of the sitting area in your living room, eyes on the dark purple stain roughly the size of your hand.
You gulp down your water and try not to follow his line of sight. Try not to remember how you’d knocked over a glass of wine in your haste to get his clothes off during another movie night less than a month before your breakup.
“I kind of forgot about it,” you say. “Stopped noticing it after a while.” 
It’s a lie. There was never a time when you didn’t notice it, the memory of him haunting you every time you sit down on the couch and stare at the garish stain. And still, you haven’t been able to bring yourself to try and erase it.
Silence worms its way between you again. With only the soft light from the tabletop lamp glowing next to the couch, Jungkook’s face is cloaked in shadow. And so you barely see his lips move when he speaks. Barely hear it with how quietly his whisper slips into the room.
“I’m sorry.”
Your glass almost drops from your fingers, droplets splashing across your knuckles as you catch it at the last moment and steady it on the countertop. Turning to face him, you find his gaze already on you, melancholy tinting his expression.
“What?”
He tongues his lip ring, shoulders dropping a fraction. “For how things ended. I’m sorry.”
You can see the sincerity in his posture, can see the sadness in his form. And yet, his words only fill you with a hot anger that bubbles out of you before you can swallow it down.
“I don’t know why you would be,” you challenge, “being that you didn’t even respect me enough to give me a proper reason.”
Jungkook huffs at that; you think he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Did it really matter?”
“Yes.”
He gnaws at his lip again, no longer looking at you, and his lack of an answer only riles you up further.
“Was there someone else?” you demand, causing him to flinch. It was the same thing you asked him when he told you he thought you should break up, standing in almost this exact same spot.
“No,” he murmurs after a moment. “There wasn’t anyone else.” He pushes a hand through his dark, silky hair. “There hasn’t been anyone else since either.”
This surprises you. Jungkook is, in your eyes, the handsomest man you have ever come face-to-face with, but even from an objective standpoint, he is exceedingly attractive. There is no doubt in your mind that he would easily be able to land a woman if he so desired.
“So then why?”
He sets his jaw, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and fixes his stare out the window. And it’s this final refusal, this steadfast dedication to not explaining himself, that finally has tears tracking down your cheeks.
The sight of you crying has his attention snapping back your way, hands reaching out as if to hold you.
“Don’t touch me,” you gasp, recoiling until you’re out of reach. “I…I hate you.”
It almost seems as if your voice lands physically, and Jungkook staggers back like you’ve slapped him, remorse immediately wiggling its way between your ribs. You know you don’t mean the words even as they fall from your mouth, but it feels pointless to take them back now, the sentiment already thrown out there and hovering in the hollow space between you.
Jungkook muddles towards the couch–more of a defeated slump dragging his steps than anger–and you think he’s going to sit down before he whirls back towards you at the last second.
“The gala,” he mutters. “That’s when I decided.”
You know which one he’s talking about. Hosted by your medical school to celebrate the end of the academic year, it had been a night of food, dancing, and socializing. You had, of course, brought him as your date and introduced him to your friends and classmates, excited to finally allow him to put faces to names. As you comb through your memories of the night, you can’t pinpoint any warning signs, only remembering the way he’d smiled at you throughout. The way he’d pulled you close and danced you around the room.
“I don’t…I don’t understand.”
He rakes his fingers through his hair again, tossing strands of night over his forehead. A sad chuckle looses itself into the thick air of the room, and the final dregs of his resolve flicker away. “I realized that I didn’t deserve to stand next to you. That you could do much better than me.”
Whatever you thought his reason had been–whatever theories or thoughts had kept you up night after night for the past year–this is not even close to what you expected. And while you always thought finally receiving an answer would be freeing, would offer you some semblance of understanding, you’re surprised at the rage that boils in the pit of your stomach, bile rising in your throat.
“Are you fucking serious right now?” you growl, taking an angered step towards him. “You were feeling insecure, and you made the decision to break up with me without even thinking to, I don’t know, discuss it with me first?”
His hand goes to the back of his neck now, embarrassment showing its face as he peers at you from under his lashes. “I was stupid–”
“No, shit.”
“But can you blame me?” he presses. “There we were: you, about to be this incredible doctor with all of your doctor friends…” His voice falters, sorrow lacing his tone. “And I’m just a tattoo artist.”
The defeatist way he says it helps to dampen your ire some, even if a heap of frustration remains–the sad shape of his doe eyes softening your edges.
“Just a tattoo artist,” you repeat. “Jungkook, I have always been so, so proud of you. I was never anything but proud to have you as my partner. You must’ve known that.”
His teeth worry his lip, and though he nods, he doesn’t seem fully convinced.
So you continue on, closing the distance between you a fraction more. “You started your own business from nothing. And I saw how hard you worked: to get the building, to hire other artists, train your apprentices.” You shake your head–half in irritation, half in awe. “And look at you now! You’re thriving. The last I heard, if you want an appointment at Golden Tattoo, you need to book months in advance.”
His eyes are alight now, some hidden emotion glimmering under the surface, but he stays quiet as he soaks in your words.
“So how can you possibly act like you weren’t enough?” you push. “You are amazing, Jungkook. And I never gave a shit about any job comparisons people may have made.” One more step, and suddenly you’re almost chest-to-chest. As always, you’re unable to resist the pull of his gravity. Yanked right back into his orbit. “I only wanted you. I’ve only ever wanted y–”
He cuts you off with his mouth, strong hands snagging your hips to pull you against him, and your own fingers reflexively tangle in his black hoodie as your subconscious gives itself over to him. Like it’s been waiting for this.
“I’m not. Not thriving,” he mumbles against your lips. “Not without you. Been miserable without you.”
And in spite of your anger, in spite of the fact that you were ready to kick him out a mere hour ago, you find yourself kissing him back, relishing the slick glide of his tongue as he licks into your mouth.
You startle as the backs of your knees suddenly bump against the couch, and then Jungkook is spinning as he settles onto the plush seat, pulling you along to straddle him. He sucks at your neck until you can feel the blood blooming under your skin, painting you like the pretty ink on his arm.
Speaking of.
The fabric of his hoodie whispers as you pull it up and over his back and head, tossing it over his shoulder and into a corner. His arms now bare to you, you gloss over his tattoos with your eyes and fingers until you find the one you’d picked out for him; the lovely orange of the flower petals seem to glow even in the dim light of the room.
“Beautiful,” you whisper.
“Just like you.”
You look at him then, the twinkle of tiny galaxies in his eyes betraying his hope. And before you can go any further, you need confirmation.
“You left.”
“I did.” Fingertips press lightly against your waist like he’s afraid you might be the one to disappear now. “I’m sorry.”
“Jungkook, if…” You lick your lips. Can almost taste his regret. “If we do this and you leave again–”
“If we do this, I'm not going anywhere,” he insists, tugging your hips down to grind against him and ghosting a kiss at your jaw. “Just wanna be here with you. Just want you.”
And it’s all you need to hear.
You shed the cotton shirt you had thrown on after your shower and move to yank his own off, tossing it in the same corner as his hoodie. The muscles of his pecs and abs shift under your hands, burning hot where your fingers trace the contours of his torso. 
“God, I missed this,” he groans as he buries his face between your breasts, nipping at the skin there before laving the spot with his tongue.
You’d agree–echo the sentiment that your body has been aching for this–if not for the fact that you’re too busy trying to get the two of you naked, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts.
But a tattooed hand covers yours, eases it away to take its place. “No,” he rumbles. “Let me.”
Wide palms and long fingers span your hips and thighs, grasping as much skin as possible even as he drags your shorts and panties down your legs and helps to steady you as you kick them off. They join the tangle of his own clothes
“Fucking gorgeous,” he growls at the sight of you finally naked in front of him. And with such speed that it almost seems like it’s involuntary, an impulse outside of his control, he’s immediately stroking at the apex of your thighs.
“Baby, this wet for me already?” A breathy sigh passes from his mouth to yours, almost laughing at the ease with which he glides through your folds. “Hell, I could just–”
A finger slips in and you gasp, Jungkook smiling wickedly at you as he quickly adds a second and curls them against your walls. You force your eyes closed as they roll back in your head, and you keel forward, babbling incoherently against the line of his collarbone.
“Use your words, love; you can do it.” He says it as if his fingers aren’t currently buried in you down to the knuckle. As if he’s not making you see stars behind your eyelids right now.
You choke down a breath, desperate for the oxygen. “Insane,” you pant. “I said you’re fucking insane.”
“Only for you,” he says before sliding his digits out of you and dipping them into his mouth. He moans at the taste, and even with his lips closed tightly, you can see the way he’s working his tongue around each finger, unwilling to waste a single drop of your essence.
Like you said. Insane.
He gives you a moment to catch your breath until you’re the one who’s getting impatient, hastily undoing his belt and tearing it from his pants with a hiss. But as you shift off of him so he can slither out of his pants and boxers–his length springing free to slap against his smooth stomach–you’re hit with an untimely realization.
“Jungkook, I don’t have condoms.”
He freezes, the color draining from his face (though admittedly, that may be because all of his blood has clearly gone south). The two of you stare at each other for a long second before he suddenly leans over, rummaging back through his pants pockets. He pulls out his wallet, rifles through it, then tosses it across the room in frustration, head tilting back against the couch as he groans at the ceiling.
“Fuck, me neither.”
You chew at your lip, a loaded quiet settling over the room as Jungkook wipes a hand over his face.
“I’m still on birth control,” you whisper, and Jungkook whips his head around, eyes wide and questioning like he’s not sure he heard you right. But you don’t repeat yourself, only hold his stare until he’s tentatively reaching out to graze his fingertips along your thigh.
“I told you. There’s been no one else.” His expression is earnest, eager. You trust that he’s telling the truth, and yet you also know that if you refused him, if you said you weren’t comfortable, he wouldn’t push.
So you swing a leg back over his lap, drag your wet folds against his cock. He moans, gripping your thighs hard, but he leans in to bite at your lower lip with a growl before pulling back to search your face.
“You?”
It hurts that he even feels the need to ask. Because how could you even want someone else? Who could possibly measure up?
You brush a reassuring, barely-there kiss against his already swollen lips. “No one else for me either.”
This seems to please him, but you still see hesitation behind his eyes as he asks, “What about the guy downstairs?”
A drunken mistake was what that was. All sloppy lips and fumbling hands that had left you feeling more empty than anything, and which resulted in you sending Cheol away before he had even gotten a peek at your bedroom.
“We made out once,” you admit, hating that you’re even having to think about another man when Jungkook is here in front of you. “But nothing else happened.”
“Good,” he grunts, but his fingers dig into your backside like he’s trying to reclaim you. And just a fraction of a second later, he’s devilishly tonguing his lip ring as he winds his palm back to bring it down harshly against the meat of your ass, the smack echoing between the walls almost endlessly.
“Ride me, baby.”
You’re quick to line him up–desperate, at this point, to have him inside of you–and begin to ease yourself down slowly, trying to give your body the space and time to adjust to the burning stretch of his girth. He’s always filled you to your absolute limit, tested the furthest boundaries of how much your body can take with his size.
“Yesss,” he hisses, nipping at your neck once again. “You’re doing great, love. Always take me so fucking well.”
You gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to catch your breath with the relentless push of him. If you were a betting woman, you’d put money on your intestines being somewhere in the area of your throat right now.
He wraps his inked arm around your waist, continuing to whisper his praises against the shell of your ear as he starts to guide your body up and down. Intoxicated by the smooth slide of his length, you soon find your pace, and your shared moans fill the room–the whole city probably able to hear you right now.
You move that way until the pressure building becomes too much and your legs start to tremble, quivering against Jungkook’s own muscled thighs.
“It’s okay; I’ve got you.” He bands his arms around you and presses you to his chest, holding you in place so he can thrust upwards.
Hard.
You’re practically screaming now, burying your teeth into his shoulder so as to muffle your sounds and not scare the neighbors. It’s all you can do to hold on for dear life as he rapidly pistons his cock inside of you, the slap of your hips like a metronome.
It builds and builds until it breaks and you’re falling apart in his arms, the spasms of your inner walls pulling him over the edge with you as he empties his seed deep inside.
The silence that follows in unlike the others you previously shared this evening–tension traded for serenity as you sit on the couch holding each other, you still contentedly stuffed full of him. He traces the ridges of your spine in a soothing pattern that has your eyelids drooping, your cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck.
“I missed this,” you whisper once your brain has finally remembered how to construct human speech.
“I missed you.”
You pull back so you can rest your forehead against his and gently run a finger over the lines of his face. “Where do we go from here?”
He hums. Tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “Take it day by day?” he suggests. “We don’t need to rush into anything if you don’t want to.”
“Mm, that does seem like a problem for tomorrow.”
A dark eyebrow quirks, teasing. “And what about right now?”
“Now?” you ask. “Do you remember the way to the bedroom? Or…” You shift your hips, already feeling him twitching inside of you.
“Or.” He jolts forward to capture your mouth in a hot kiss, and you smile into it, whole again. “Or sounds good.”
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a/n: pls like, reblog, reply, and/or send an ask if you enjoyed! <3
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4K notes · View notes
frmisnow · 4 months
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˙✧˖ ?! — KEEPING YOU IN BED (CAUSE I'M DOWN BED). - MDNI !!!
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— ‧₊˚ — 🍵 : "wonder where your colleges think you are, they'd never guess i'm balls deep into you huh"??"
summary. going to work on your boyfriends single day-off already sounds like a death sentence, things only become worse when he makes it especially hard to leave the bed.
notes. SLEEPY HORNY KOOK AASHHSSHSH my roman empire... 😭 SORRY FOR THE TITLE I HAD A LIL GIGGLE OKAY ???
warnings/includes: (NSFW) dom! jungkook x f! sub! reader, starts sleepy + wholesome, turns a lil unhinged..., pounding, overstimulation, he's just a bit mean in second half (but we love it)
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you rub your eyes, the morning sunlight blinding you through the sheer curtains - soft and rhythmic breathing audible beside you when you look over you find your boyfriend's chest rising and falling slowly, one of his arms still wrapped around your waist, in pure peace still somewhere in the deep roams of sleep.
after all it was his day off, a rare sanctuary in the hectic schedule of hislife, and yet, there you were, inching away from the warmth of his embrace, preparing to face the day ahead.
but as you attempted to free yourself from the tangle of sheets and limbs, a sleepy murmur escaped him, a half-formed quiet plea, "just few more minutes" His arm instinctively tightened around your waist, drawing you back into his tight hug, nuzzling his face to your middle body. quick little peeks placed all over tummy, almost like rubbing his face over you, his hands lazily tracing circles over your sides, "just a little longer"
he shifts his position, now completly lying over you, trapping and preventing you from leaving, wrapping his arms around your neck, "love you so much" whispered into your nape.
you giggled in response, your hands hugging his back, travelling under his shirt, rubbing over the skin gently, "you're trying everything to lure me in longer huh"
kook smiled sleeply against your skin, his head moved to your shoulder so he could look at your face better, lips roaming over your collarbone, settling on them for a split second, "is it working?"
"don't know, might have to try a bit harder" you answered in a joking tone, your fingers tracing light patterns on his back.
he squints his eyes, a faint smile on his face, raising his eyebrows, "oh really?" fake innocence added into his tone.
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you were stupid.
in fact very much so.
out of experience you should've known that jungkook has an unbelievable amount of sheer competitivness inside him and if you unleash that - you're pretty much fucked.
you should've recognized that familar grin, you should've recognized those wandering hands of his that would do anything just to prove you wrong, just to remind you that nobody doubts him without well- consequences!
those consequences may include: him in the beginning softly manhandling you (in his own way y'know) which turns into him throwing away any sense of tiredness or gentleness he had before, sentences like "feel me fuckin pounding, listen to it" or "so much fuckin cum" rolling over his tongue as he overstimulates you over and over again.
damn well keeping that clock on the night stand at the corner of his eyes, just to rub it into your face, "how easy it was to get you to do this" or "wonder where your colleges think you are, they'd never guess i'm balls deep into you huh"
and oh he's looking for answers from you too, "what are you gonna tell your boss now?" half mumbeled half groaned as he slams into you once more chasing that 3rd orgasm, obviously knowing you're way to brainfucked to understand think about even responding.
"should've kept your fucking mouth shut, don't you think?" and all you can do in response is whimper and moan like a little bitch.
weirdly enough that's what satisfies him - the slutty expression on your face, the way your mouth stays slightly parted, the way your pussy tightens around him, the way your tits just fit so easily in his hands like they were made for him (which he'll openly say 2!), the way you sound, the way your body looks when he fucks you senseless - everything about you like this is so endearing to him and worth repeating over and over again.
he can be real sweet after, acting like it never even happened, bringing you breakfast to bed while you were lying bare trying to regain your brain acess again, innocently saying smth along the lines of: "i called you in sick for today" then adding, "it's not like it's worth going anyway might just spend the day with me" okay whatever you say kook :3
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venusjeon · 6 months
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angel in the marble
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after you fail to pickpocket him, the famous yet arrogant artist Jeon Jungkook takes you off the streets to make you his servant, and the more you know him, the more you realise he's not as detestable as everyone claims he is.
♔ PAIRING: michelangelo!jungkook x servant!reader
♔ GENRE: high renaissance au, angst, smut, humour
♔ WORD COUNT: 8k
♔ WARNINGS: homelessness, stealing, mild swearing/violence/drinking, 90% of this is bickering lmao, mentions of minor characters' death, jealousy and kinda possessiveness?, referenced unconsensual groping (not by jk), a bit of blasphemy, making out, groping, fingering, rough angry sexxx, choking, slapping
♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: fun fact this is mostly historically accurate! jk's characterisation, the grocery list doodles, the sack of rome, the beef with his brother, the encounter with his rival (raphael)... are all taken from michelangelo's actual life, even some stuff is quoted from his letters lol. man was fanfic material.
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1529, Rome
“How much for that one?”
“No, that one’s sold already.”
It was a lively morning. After days of heavy rainfall, those of high social class were eager to get out and meet under the gentle sun of spring, whose glare reflected on the precious stones of their jewellery; while those of low, out of necessity, couldn’t wait to reopen their businesses or set up their stalls and get back to work. You liked to eye them all as you strolled the streets of Rome.
“To whom?”
“Your friend Taehyung.”
“Agh… How much is that prick paying you?”
The point of the matter was that it was bustling, some colliding if they looked away from where they were going for more than a breath. It worked in your favour for it was then easier to make yourself scarce right after stealing bags of coins, such as those of the three men seemingly bargaining by a workshop’s entrance out of which a large block of marble was being dragged. Perfect.
“Three ducats.”
“Three?! He’s robbing you of two ducats. I’ll pay you the five it’s worth.”
You kept your head low as you approached the pair that seemed wealthier and with those stealthy hands of yours unfastened the bags tied to their belts. After all, pickpocketing was a skill you’d had under your own for some years now, so this was bound to go smoothly.
Because you didn’t realise there was a guardian with them, perhaps you’d grown arrogant.
“I’m sorry, maestro. It’s reserved.”
“But it’ll become a waste in his possession!”
As you slipped away into the crowd, mouth watering at the fresh-baked bread you were going to devour as soon as bought, this brown dog leaped up at you out of nowhere, ignoring your desperate efforts to shake him off. If anything, they caused him to bark.
No, no, no…
The three men turned to the scene playing out not so far, and thinking his dog was bothering you one of them shouted, “Bam, come here, boy!” but as he obediently ran to his owner, you were too slow to hide the bags in your hands. It only took the pair a second to make them out, check whether theirs still hung on their belts, find them not, work out you’d stolen them, look back up, and find you not either.
Of course, you’d made your escape by then, dived into the sea of people and swum through them as quickly as possible, only stopping when you reached an empty vaulted alley to catch your breath.
That was ridiculously close. If you weren’t more careful next–
Your train of thought was interrupted by someone grabbing you by the arm from behind and pushing you against the nearest wall. A grunt accompanied the thud, and a gasp followed at the sight of the two men from before—dog included. Pinned in place, it’d be a bad idea to fight back or attempt to run away again. Fuck’s sake.
“Do you know what happens to thieves?” the one cornering you asked so close that when the cold breeze rustled his hair, some strands grazed your face. You looked away to avoid the tickling rather than out of fear, or so you wanted to believe. “They have a hand cut off. Seems fair, doesn’t it, Jimin?”
By contrast, that Jimin didn’t look intimidating, otherwise still catching his breath from the chase, but he did snatch the coin bags from your hands. “It doesn’t have to be so, maestro. We got our money back. She’s… just a girl.”
“And that exempts her of crime?”
“Please, don’t report me,” you begged, humiliating as though it was.
“Why shouldn’t we?” the maestro scoffed. Maestro… You were being threatened by a damned craftsman, the other one probably his assistant.
“Because I don’t want to lose a hand?”
“Oh, but we wanted to lose money, did we?” You rolled your eyes, and he released his grip only to step away. “Take us to your father, brat. He’ll answer for you.”
It took you a moment to respond, “I don’t have a father, or anyone... Only I can answer for my actions.”
“You’re a beggar?” Jimin asked, taking pity as he studied your appearance for the first time. Dishevelled hair, tattered dress, unpleasant smell… Yes, they should’ve guessed.
“She doesn’t beg, though, does she? She steals.”
“Only from cunts.”
His head snapped to meet your glare, and Jimin laughed, “You seem to not know whom you speak to.” He could be Jesus for all you cared. Uninterested, you petted the dog, Bam, seeing as he’d leapt up at you again. “This is Jeon Jungkook.”
You froze. The Jeon Jungkook? The famous artist who painted and sculpted for the Pope? Whom faraway kings and even emperors commissioned? The one whose genius was said to be changing the world?
At the lack of attention, Bam returned to his master, and that snapped you out of your shock to ask, “Then why do you whine?” The two men frowned, having clearly expected an apology paired with the usual bootlicking. “As if you need that bag more than I!”
“What nerve,” he scoffed again, making you wince by grabbing your arm tighter than before and starting to drag you into the next street. “You’re going straight to the authorities!”
“Wait,” Jimin intervened, thank God. “Weren’t you in need of a servant, maestro?”
“So?”
Jimin pointed at you with his gaze as though it was obvious. “You’re in need of a servant, she’s in need of a roof.”
“I would rather have a hand cut off.”
“I would rather have her hand cut off too.”
Jungkook tried to resume dragging you, but Jimin blocked his way with a soft smile. “What’s your name?”
“Y/N…”
“Do you know how to take care of a household?” Slowly, you nodded, melancholy engulfing you at the memory of cooking or sweeping the floor with your mother once upon a time. Somehow, she always found a way to make chores fun... “Then you qualify for the job. You’ll have three meals a day and a bed to sleep on. And you, maestro, a servant who’ll work her hardest, lest you fire her and she ends up in the streets again.”
Both you and Jungkook reluctantly glanced at each other. Truth be told, you didn’t prefer losing a hand to living with him, you just didn’t like him. Despite being a celebrity, he was a stranger. It just wouldn’t work.
But then, why were you holding your breath, hoping he’d accept?
“We shouldn’t have left Namjoon’s workshop. The marble is about to be delivered,” he said walking away. The air left your lungs in disappointment. It seemed you were to remain a stray cat. Jimin pressed his plump lips apologetically as he gave you enough coins to buy that bread, and you nodded, grateful all the same for his trying. You watched him rush to Jungkook’s side but when this one saw him, he turned around. “Hurry up, brat. If Taehyung gets that block of marble, I’ll not take you in.”
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Since the first day, you could attest to Jeon Jungkook’s nature being as rough and uncouth as the rumours claimed, and after living alone with him for two months still believed gossip such as that he’d got the scar on his left cheek in a tavern fight—in which, if you’d chanced to be present, you would’ve rooted for the other individual.
It appeared it wasn’t just others Jungkook was harsh to. However rich his talent had turned him, he behaved like a poor man, consuming food and drink sparingly and out of necessity instead of pleasure, spending only the money required to live decently, sleeping little in order to work on commissions from dawn to midnight…
Why he chose to take little care of himself was a mystery to someone who previously had not been allowed a choice, even if putting work before all was in order to thwart Kim Taehyung’s plans of ruining his career, as he claimed. You doubted his rival was obsessed with him so, but had learned to agree with whatever Jungkook grumbled to avoid disputes. Most times.
Deep down, you had a feeling your boldness amused him. Who else dared get on his nerves?
“I think all you artists fluttering around the Pope are no more than slaves to money,” you let drop once while making his bed. Bam was sleeping peacefully under the window, while Jungkook leaning against the door’s frame behind you, offended to the core. He could help, you thought, or at least loosen my corset a little…
“I, a slave? I’ll be damned… There is an angel inside every block of marble, and I’ll have you know I carve to set it free.”
“Is it the angel that charges the Pope, then, master?” You could feel him barely restraining the urge to throw you out the window, smiled as you finished smoothing out the blankets.
“You missed a wrinkle there.”
Hands on your hips and frown on your brows, you examined the neatly arranged coverings of his bed. “Where?”
“On your face,” he muttered before making his leave.
Not his finest jibe, but the metaphor did stay with you. An angel inside the marble… It perhaps applied to Jungkook himself, though you’d never tell him.
One instance it came to mind was recently, when his assistants and apprentices were invited over for dinner.
Usually, he’d tell you which meals he liked and you’d ask at the marketplace which ingredients to buy, but now that about ten meals were to be cooked a list was needed. So there he sat on his desk in his study, inking said list as you waited in front of him, fiddling with the undershirt that peeked out of your dress’ sleeves. Given that your eyes were fixed on it, you only learned Jungkook was done when the sound of his quill scratching the paper ceased.
“Be back no later than dusk,” he ordered, “I bet there are still Germans and Spaniards lurking about.”
A year had passed since the Sack of Rome, but the mention of it sent a shiver of fear down your spine. Whatever the political reasons for it, you hated everyone involved, for Hell itself would’ve been a more beautiful sight to behold those nine months when the Tiber’s waters remained painted red…
You were lucky to make it through. Your family wasn’t.
“Yes, master.”
“Here,” he said handing you the paper, then picked another letter from a pile of correspondence he’d been going through before your arrival. Jungkook was about to snap its wax seal when he looked up to realise you hadn’t moved an inch. “Why are you here? Away with you!” He saw the reason in the way you avoided eye contact. “You can’t read, can you?” Met with a silence charged with embarrassment, he leaned back in his chair and sighed, “Give me the list.”
Getting hold of the quill again, Jungkook began… doodling?
You tilted your head but couldn’t see well what he was drawing until he finished and returned the list to you. Then, your lips parted. Each item on the list was illustrated next to its name: ten loaves of bread, a jug of wine, tortellini, four anchovies, two fennel soups…
“I’ll teach you to read when I have time. This will do for now.”
“You’d do that?” For me?
Jungkook ignored you, before he went back to reading his letters complimenting the good gesture with an irritated, “Hurry up.”
That night his co-workers arrived one by one, Jimin the first. The sight of him when you opened the door brightened up your mood.
Unlike a certain someone he was always sweet to you, genuinely interested to know how you fared even if you were just a servant. He claimed that mattered not to him, that you were both commoners and thus equals.
“Look at this place, it’s spotless! And you know I’m furtive, so I won’t get in your way,” you told Jimin as you escorted him through a hallway, bright from the torches hung on the walls that you’d lit up earlier.
He laughed, “I cannot make you my servant, Y/N, you’re maestro’s.”
“But he’s going to drive me mad… To tell you one of many examples, he often falls asleep in his clothes, and who but I is to take his boots off so they don’t get the sheets dirty? If the chalk on his fingers or the dust from the chiseling on his hair won’t already. Bam is far cleaner…”
Jungkook had a workshop he barely set foot in, preferred his team made use of it instead to not be bothered by their idiocy. His words. So it was in a chamber on the ground floor of this house he gave way to artistic insanity. In your book, that meant constant cleaning.
Jimin looked at you fondly. “Sounds nightmarish.”
“It truly is!”
As soon as the two of you entered the dining hall, Bam ran from Jungkook’s side by the fireplace to Jimin, who was as excited to see him.
“Good night, maes–”
“Do you think I’m deaf, ungrateful brat?” Jungkook interrupted him to bark at you. “Rome is full of people begging to get a piece of me, so if you don’t like it here, I’ll just get someone else!”
“You say that and yet keep me like a prisoner!”
“As if you don’t have it better here than anywhere you’ve burdened with your presence before!”
“There, there…” Jimin interjected to de-escalate, kneeling to better stroke Bam. “Maestro, I’ve seen your latest sketch of the Virgin and Child. She resembles Y/N.”
Both you and Jungkook failed to fight off the embarrassment, gazes unable to find a place to settle. Sitting down on the large table, he explained, “It was just one time… I had used Yoongi as a model, but the Madonna looked too masculine... and rather than going through the trouble of finding some girl and hiring her, I had Y/N pose for me… So what! Why bring it up out of nowhere…”
“Because maybe you just need a bit of distance from time to time. With permission, I too would have Y/N pose for m–”
“Absolutely not.”
“Now, why the hell not?” you groaned stamping your foot, startling poor Bam. Hope had been born inside you in a second and cruelly crushed in the next.
“Because I say so. And watch your tone with me.” As usual, the mutual glaring would trick anyone into thinking the next step would be murder. Jimin, who knelt there awkwardly, certainly thought so, at least until the bell rang. “Now go answer the door!”
What happened later, though, rendered the fury Jungkook had evoked in your heart nonexistent and instead seized the thing in a clasp of distress.
In the morning, he walked in when you were sweeping the kitchen. At once you forced the sobs to stop and turned around so he wouldn’t see you wipe your tears.
“It’s past nine, where’s breakfast?” he asked in shock that you hadn’t even started making it, the table there empty.
You swore under your breath before leaving the broomstick leaning against the nearest wall, flushed face kept out of Jungkook’s sight, then in a haste fetched a plate, a knife, and a leftover bread loaf. “Apologies, master, I forgot. I’ll be upstairs in a minute.”
Sniffling betrayed you, at which Jungkook frowned. “Are you crying?”
Great, the question just about especially designed to make one well up. Not trusting your voice anymore, you shook your head. Jungkook approached, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from the task at hand, now cutting a few slices of the bread.
“Have you broken something?” You shook your head again, the suppressed sobs making your chin tremble. Jungkook took a deep breath before asking with a surprisingly soothing tone, “Then what’s wrong?”
“You won’t believe me.”
“Try me.”
Within an hour, he’d summoned a meeting consisting of all who’d attended dinner the previous night.
A seemingly calm Jungkook was sat at the head of the table, elbows sunk on it and fingers interlocked. You stood behind him, head still low out of shame. A tense silence had fallen in the chamber some time ago, and sick of it, Jimin shattered it.
“Have you anything to tell us, maestro?”
“I was waiting for Biagio to do so.”
The man was one of Jungkook’s favourite assistants who had worked with him for years, even longer than Jimin. And if it was possible for your position to be trickier, he belonged to some noble family.
“Me? But I’ve nothing to say, maestro.”
Jungkook leaned back in his chair. “My servant will, then. Y/N?”
Bastard. If you are going to fire me, why make me go through this?
“Last night, w-when I left this hall to go refill the wine jug… Messer Biagio followed me into the kitchen, and… h-he trapped me from behind, and started t-to touch me…” Your vision soon blurred, hence why you couldn’t see clearly how concerned Jimin was for you, or how Biagio jumped up in outrage. “I managed to push him away, and ran upst–”
“How dare you slander me, wench? Maestro, you do not believe this!”
“Do I not?”
“She’s lying! I caught her stealing sketches from your study, likely to sell them, so she’s trying to get rid of me!”
You almost scoffed. Only an idiot would choose the one occasion guests had come over and her absence would be noticed to carry out a theft.
Jungkook tilted his head. “I thought you had nothing to say. Why would you keep such a thing just now?”
Biagio gulped. “I deemed it best to mention it later, in private... You won’t believe a pickpocket before an old friend, will you?”
Silence returned, your breath still as you saw all the assistants and apprentices visibly take pity on him. The only one who didn’t was Jimin, but even on his face there was a hint of hesitation. Jungkook’s, you couldn’t see from behind, but after an eternity he stood up and walked over only to put a hand on the shoulder of Biagio, who smiled in relief.
A quiet sob broke through your lips, heart sinking. You’d needed Jungkook to believe you in this. Not because of the consequences his protection as your master could save you from, but because, like it or not… he was the closest thing to family you had.
It turned out he did believe you, judging by the punch landed on Biagio’s jaw out of nowhere. And the next one on his cheekbone, and on his nose. Before everyone around the table had barely stood up to stop Jungkook, he’d already thrown Biagio down and straddled him, pulling his doublet’s collar in a close, tight grip as he continued beating him up. Blood was drawn, but for once, you didn’t mind having to scrub it later.
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Jungkook’s influence trumped a whole noble house’s, you learned in the course of the months Biagio tried his mightiest and failed most miserably to have him arrested. Perhaps because of the Pope sitting on his shoulder.
That he’d taken your side was still hard to believe, all he’d grumbled with a shrug when you thanked him while tending to his wounds from the fight being, “I’d been waiting for the chance. I always thought Biagio was a weasel.”
With the matter resolved, life returned to normal—well, whatever that meant in Jeon Jungkook’s household. Because calling for you at the top of his lungs like a madman was not normal. The first time he’d done it you’d raced downstairs, afraid something horrible had happened, only for him to have you close a window as it was getting chilly. Devil rot him. You rushed no longer after that, much to his complaints.
Today, he didn’t notice right away when you appeared under the cased opening, and good thing he didn’t, for he was polishing a bust with sandpaper… shirtless.
Product of hours carving stone into his desired shape or occasionally beating someone up, he could brag of having muscles, which the current task had covered in a layer of sweat and dust. The way they flexed with each movement had you compelled, wanting to reach out, feel if his skin was as hot as the blood pumping through your veins faster and faster. Then your gaze moved to the bust and whatever spell you were under broke.
Hardly an angel was that widowed noblewoman, whom you wished had stayed trapped inside a block of marble. Her name was Madonna Maddalena, and she’d come some weeks past to make a commission covered in pearls, gold, and boldness.
“My friends refused to accompany me today. You’re said to be… disagreeable, which I’m sure is untrue. However, all of them do want to know if you’re as fine-looking as is also rumoured, maestro” she told Jungkook within minutes of meeting him, still by the entrance!
Now you can tell them he’s not, you bit your tongue before it remarked, as this wasn’t Jimin but a patron not to be scared away by your bickering. It wouldn’t be true anyway. All your master lacked in manners, he made up for with looks… Which you’d never say out loud. You’d never say either that he looked even better when irked.
“I’ve heard many rumours about myself, most of them nonsense. My appearance was involved in none.”
She smiled seductively. “I suppose I’ll have to be the one to spread them.”
“The weather is pleasant today,” Jungkook changed the subject, flustered beneath the formal demeanour. “Shall we have wine in the garden?” You left to prepare it not before catching Maddalena raise her brow at you in disapproval. She must’ve been able to tell you thought she was a pompous cunt.
The beautiful flowers you cared for tried their best outside, but the air didn’t get any better.
Sat around a small table, Maddalena explained she wanted a bust of herself by his talented hand to decorate the main hall of her palazzo. You served them wine, not really listening until Jungkook started playing hard to get. The hundred times you’d told him it wasn’t a good tactic to make his labour out to be too prestigious had apparently fallen on deaf ears.
“Any other artist could carry this out, Madonna. I am working for the Pope these days…” he subtly scolded her, a mere mortal, for wasting his precious time. And he wondered why he had a reputation for being arrogant.
Maddalena put his thoughts into plain words, “So why should you stoop to taking commissions from an insignificant widow?”
“Correct,” you said under your breath, luckily heard by none from the background, where you stood holding a wine jug until the madonna raised her cup and you approached to refill it.
“It is then fortunate I’m to marry a nephew of the Pope’s.”
Swayed by her future influence, Jungkook smiled back. “So it is.”
“But not for another week. ‘Till then, I belong to no man.” The suggestion in her tone almost drove you to spill wine all over her. No, better yet: order Bam to sic on her. He’d do it.
Just, who did this woman think she was? And why did Jungkook not kick her out right afterwards? It made you wonder whether he’d enjoyed the flirtation. Whether he would’ve been the one to take things further had his inconvenient servant not been present. It was common for men to have affairs and lovers, but it didn’t sit well with you that Jungkook might. Not that you ever imagined him doing any of that, for goodness’ sake–
“What took you so long?”
Jungkook’s voice brought you back to the present, under the cased opening.
“I was lazing about, as always,” you quoted his favourite false reprimand, making him roll his eyes, your own dropping to the floor when he walked closer.
“In that case, prepare a bath for me.”
“Yes, master.”
You sighed at all the work ahead. That being a servant was worlds better than living in the streets didn’t mean you looked forward to collecting gallons of water from a well, carrying them back, heating them, transferring them to a tub, then washing Jungkook—because you did wash him.
Biagio had hurt his left shoulder bad and ever since, he’d needed assistance in certain activities. Curious how he could otherwise chisel a goddamned bust without problem.
Jungkook’s full nudity only made you blush if you stopped scrubbing, so knelt with tucked up sleeves before the wooden tub he was reclined on, scrubbing away the dirt on his skin with lavender-scented soap you were. Maybe all the stupid feelings you’d been suffering lately stemmed from there…
Head resting on the edge, he was exhausted from the long day of work, taking your rubbing as a relaxing massage. You, however, couldn’t ignore the stinging guilt, what with the scar on his shoulder right in front of your face. He probably felt your breathing on it.
“I’m sorry you got hurt…”
Jungkook fought heavy lids only to see you avoid him. Allowing yourself to be vulnerable in front of him was embarrassing, as when he’d caught you crying, but he didn’t take advantage of the fact to humiliate you. Jungkook may be an ogre, but he wasn’t cruel.
“I’ve received worse for less,” he assured you in a calm, low voice. It sounded soothing to your ears.
“That, I don’t doubt,” you scoffed, glancing at his other scar on the cheek. “Did you also get that one in defence of some lady?”
“You’re nowhere close to a lady.” It could be done, you mused. Drowning him. “This was courtesy of my brother.”
“You have a brother?” It dawned on you how little you knew of him. Surely, most had heard it all about the divine Jeon Jungkook, but you’d never cared enough to learn past the shell of gossip, even after months of living with him. In fairness, he’d never asked about you either. You preferred it that way.
“Brothers,” he corrected you. “The one who did this to me was a wayward fool. Had to teach him a lesson.”
“Looks like he taught one to you.”
“I left with a scratch, he with a limp.” The conception of two brothers hurting each other so harshly widened your eyes for a second, and Jungkook noticed, for he added, “He was whoring around, wasting the money I worked hard to send, bullying our other brothers as well.”
Much made sense about Jungkook all of a sudden. Not his personality, that was incomprehensible. But why he killed himself to earn money and yet barely spent it… He had a family to provide for. Once again, you were reminded of his metaphor. Could an angel be in there?
Carrying on washing Jungkook, you dragged the sponge over to his neck. Then his collarbones, his chest, his abs just peaking above the water... They did look like a sculpture’s, especially wet and soaped, reminiscent of polished marble when the light of the torches reflected on them. Swallowing hard, the back of your fingers gingerly graced Jungkook’s muscles, both soft and firm. Slippery. Whatever possessed you to keep feeling them, you lacked the will to expel from your body, and so without realising your grip on the sponge loosened until it fell to float away, fingertips now free to roam over his abs.
You were slowly trailing downwards, past the water’s surface, when your wrist was seized and held in the air in a warning manner, the startle almost making you scream.
Sat upright, Jungkook was glaring at you so fiercely you feared for your life. But he didn’t say anything and instead just breathed hard, jaw clenched… almost as if he was holding back. Your rising heartbeat was deafening in the silence waiting for something to happen, anything, but what did wasn’t what a side of you anticipated with excitement.
Jungkook just let go of your wrist and returned to his previous position, and you got hold of the sponge and finished washing him, albeit holding your breath the entire time.
Days later, you came dangerously close to being fired.
The Pope had summoned Jungkook—something about a portrait commission—and you were to carry his bag filled with sketches for him due to his shoulder injury. As you navigated the ever-busy streets of Rome with him, the cold autumn breeze made you regret not putting on an overgown. The cioppa you’d bought with your own salary and not stolen. It brought a smile to your lips that faded at the realisation your mother would’ve reminded you to put it on before going out.
The sorrow pestering you turned to confusion when Jungkook stopped walking and tsked, telling you loud enough to be heard by all, “Look at him, the chief of police, with such an assemblage.”
A well-dressed man and what appeared to be his entourage walked in your direction, halting near enough. You didn’t have to ask to know this was his rival, the renowned painter Kim Taehyung.
“Whereas you, like an executioner, walk alone,” he mocked Jungkook, then noticed you standing behind him like a timid child. “Not completely, my mistake. Maestro, where in your barren soil did you plant such a flower?” He walked over to you, intentionally bumping Jungkook’s wounded shoulder as he passed, causing him to grunt lowly. From up close one was bound to marvel at how handsome Taehyung was, but you didn’t need proximity to tell he was a prick. Miles away, you would’ve known. “Why don’t you come work for me, flower? I’ll make you my muse.”
Jungkook scoffed again, “What, for your horseshit paintings? She’d be a fool to.”
Taehyung turned around to face him, feigning confusion with a smile. “But, maestro, how could they be so if you were once heard saying that all I have in art, I got from you?”
"You naturally have to resort to plagiarising my master’s genius if all you do is horseshit,” you countered, earning surprised looks from every man present, some laughs too, you were proud to say. Jungkook was certainly smirking. Taehyung opened his mouth, but you walked past him uninterested before a response came out of it.
“Good girl,” Jungkook laughed while leaving the crime scene, and for some reason your cheeks burned hot.
The incident happened once inside the Vatican.
Its grandiose corridors alone made you feel small, too unimportant to walk them, whereas Jungkook did so with determination, knowing he belonged at the top of the world. What with your tempestuous relationship, it was easy to forget he was famous throughout Europe. His feet would still never be kissed by you. Someone had to humble the man, right?
At some point the two of you arrived at a door flanked by guards, and averse, you grabbed the sleeve of Jungkook’s doublet.
“Do I have to go in?”
“Too good for the Pope, are you?” He shook you off. “Come on.”
“Damn you…” you muttered.
“What did you just say to me?”
“After you, master.”
Telling himself he’d be late if he scolded you, Jungkook turned and nodded at the guards, who opened the door of a chamber whose walls were frescoed with angels and saints, likely by Taehyung, giving off the impression one was in Heaven. When you saw him sat on a golden chair, old and grey, enjoying the tune of a lute player, you felt as though you’d just entered Hell.
The audience lasted for ever. While you stood by the door, Jungkook showed the Pope some sketches of the portrait for him to choose his favourite and then they talked and talked of politics. All you could do was fix your gaze somewhere on the floor and sigh.
“Yes, Your Holiness, this is the servant I mentioned…” A frown proceeded your looking up to see Jungkook somewhat embarrassed, scratching his nose as if to hide his face. He talked of you to others? Doubtless to complain…
With a sweet voice as if he was talking to a little girl, the Pope asked you, “What is your name?”
“None of your business, Your Holiness.”
The musician’s tune ceased abruptly, allowing Jungkook’s faint gasp to be heard. Then fell a short silence spent by the Pope blinking, taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me.”
Jungkook was quick to fake a laugh, though sweat formed at his temples. “A jest! She meant no offence, Your Holiness, but to make you laugh.”
You held the Pope’s glare in defiance, indifferent to the fact he was the most powerful man in the whole of Christendom.
By some miracle, he let it go, and you left that chamber minutes later with your head as yet attached to your body. Your arm wouldn’t be for much longer, though, given Jungkook was forcibly dragging you all the way out to the streets, pushing you into the first alley he saw.
“Are you out of your mind?!” he shouted, towering over you menacingly. Unlike the day you’d met, you weren’t scared, rather furious as him as you stood your ground. “That was the Pope, you fool!”
“So?”
Jungkook was in utter disbelief. “He could’ve ordered your execution– mine too!”
“Well, nothing happened!”
“Nothing?! I’m sure to fall out of favour!” He paced around, anxiety quickening his breath. “Years of pouring my soul into my craft, of grovelling before the right people, all thrown away! Good God, your attitude may cost me everything…”
“And what about me?! Everything lost to me does not matter?!”
Jungkook stopped to frown. “What the hell are you talking about?”
It was now you who walked up to him. “I didn’t have a job, or a reputation, or admirers. I had only a family, and I never wished for anything else! That monster you work for took them from me. When the foreigners’ armies came and everyone rushed to Castel Sant’Angelo, he gave the order to close the gates as soon as he was safe behind them! You must have been there with him, weren’t you? Well, we weren’t. We were left outside to be slaughtered. And I wish I had been, like my parents, so I didn’t have to suffer the likes of you any longer!”
Tears were streaming down your face by the end, Jungkook just staring back at you. It didn’t surprise him that your parents were dead or that they’d been killed during the Sack, but that it was so deep a wound left festering in your heart that you didn’t mind being put out of misery. He surmised your disrespectful behaviour towards him was also fruit of your pain, especially if you deemed him an ally of the one who caused it.
“The few things I own… They’re wasted on me. Throw them away or give them to your next servant,” you sobbed, taking for granted you were fired. Anyone with half a brain would indeed have you dismissed, and part of you knew it was bound to happen, that you would go back to breaking in fucking churches to spend the night.
So you turned around into the main street, set on wandering until your legs became too sore not to collapse. With any luck, a carriage would run over you. But warmth then surrounded your hand, and you looked down to see Jungkook’s holding it tight enough to force you to halt. Though still mad, a hint of compassion sparkled in his eyes.
“Let’s… Let us just go home.”
Home. His house had felt so for a while now, truth be told. Himself too.
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After that, you non-verbally agreed on a ceasefire—avoiding quarrels, that is, which was quite the task for both.
Such as now that Jungkook had you inking down a letter in his name. First of all, did you look like a scribe? If you’d known in advance the lazy arse would teach you to read and write for this, you’d have chosen to remain illiterate. And second, this was your short break before making dinner, intended to be spent playing with Bam. The poor thing was also in the study, at least being stroked by his owner, who was sat beside you on the desk.
“… I send you my regards, may God keep you from all harm. Jeon Jungkook in Rome,” he finally finished dictating, and you recording. “Give it to me, I’ll seal it.”
He was melting the wax with which to do so when the bell rang, to his surprise. Sighing, you stood up and went to open the door to whom turned out to be Jimin. The sight of him brightened you up, and yours stretched his lips into a smile.
“Evening, Y/N.”
“Good evening! I didn’t know the master was expecting you.”
“He isn’t…” You welcomed him in, brows joining at how he continuously chewed on his aforementioned lip and breathed deep through his nose as he followed you. Had something happened…? A decision to eavesdrop was made en route to the study.
Though Jimin requested for you to stay once there, and nothing could have prepared you for the reason why.
“This actually concerns Y/N…” You and Jungkook exchanged confused looks, him leaning against the desk and crossing arms as though he didn’t like the sound of that. Jimin fixed his already perfect clothes before addressing him, “I’ve come to ask for her hand in marriage.” Your jaw dropped. “I know it’s sudden at the lack of previous courtship, but I thought I should ask for your permission before engaging in it, maestro. She’s a lovely girl… and I think she’d be happy as my wife. Worry not, I won’t ask for a dowry or for her to stop working… Although on second thought, fewer hours of service would be ideal.”
This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be happening.
Jungkook must be thinking the same, for he squinted to ask, “Are you drunk?”
“N-No, of course not.”
“Are you sure? You want to marry a servant with little to her name.” He had a point, so you weren’t offended. If politics weren’t the reason for a union, did this mean… Jimin had feelings for you?
“Maestro, you say it as if I were a lord,” he chuckled. “I don’t care about Y/N’s possessions, I’ll provide for her anyway. I’ve… always been fond of her. And I dare say she shares the sentiment.”
Betrayal hid safely behind a look that asked if there was any truth to that. Obviously not! There was no romance in your own fondness for Jimin. If anything, you had thought he saw you as a younger sister to look after, therefore as a protective older brother you saw him. But so shocked were you still that no words managed to come out, and Jungkook’s gaze shifted back to Jimin.
“I’ll think about it. You may go.”
A curt tone was the norm for Jungkook, it was not being granted his blessing that disappointed Jimin. He knew for a fact he was an honourable man, so why wouldn't he entrust you to him?
“Quite well… I’ll show myself out.” he uttered, before making his leave failing to hide his low spirit by giving you one last shy smile you hadn’t the heart to return.
An awkward silence filled the air that even Bam daren’t break. Only once the front door was heard shutting did you walk closer to Jungkook.
“You won’t agree to this, will you?”
“Why shouldn’t I? I have to get rid of you at some point.”
“Rid of me? Like I’m a burden?” you asked, voice rising. How a servant could be so was unknown to you until, like wooden ship toys did when you’d submerge them in a bucket of water as a child, certain guesses surfaced in your thoughts. Trying to pickpocket him, the constant clashing, Biagio, that bath, the Pope… Yes, you may perhaps be described as a burden. But you didn’t want to leave. With a calmer tone, you pleaded, “I’ll behave from now on. I won’t cause any more trouble, I swear.”
Jungkook didn’t deign to look your way as he left, followed by Bam. “You have to marry at some point, Y/N. Otherwise people will gossip.”
Since when did he care about what people said of him? And why should you?
Winter having dropped its anchor, nightfall arrived early. Not early enough, you brooded as you cooked dinner, longing for the day to end once and for all. With any hope, all of this was a nightmare and upon waking up in the morning life would go back to normal. You didn’t even know why you wanted to stay with Jungkook, as the occasions in which you’d begged Jimin to employ you to leave this house were countless. The only certain thing was that you were upset.
Later, after washing all plates and cups, you began to put off all torches lighting the house, finding out in the hall that Jungkook hadn’t moved from the seat he’d dined in. You considered carrying on with your job and leaving him in the dark, but he wouldn’t find it as funny. Instead, you stood before him.
“Will that be all, master?”
The coldness in your expression made him sigh, “Y/N–”
“I shall retire, then.” You turned to leave but were made to stop in your tracks.
“It’s an advantageous proposal for you,” he lectured to whom he must believe an idiot. “Jimin works for me, he’s wealthy. A better match than you could ever aspire to. And he asks for no dowry because he doesn’t want money, he wants you…” His words were tainted with resentment. “He’ll take good care of you.”
Skirt of your dress swirling along, you faked a smile. “If you think so, master, then it must be so.”
He shook his head as he leaned back in defeat. “Suit yourself, but I won’t be the one to reject Jimin. You crush his heart.”
A laugh escaped you. “If you genuinely cared about him, you wouldn’t let him marry a woman in love with–” Oh no. It only hit you as you were saying it.
Jungkook had appeared annoyed, but now he was mad. “Who?” He stood up abruptly—chair’s feet scratching against the floor making you wince—and walked so close you were backed against the wall, face forced to turn to a side. In a low, deep voice, he repeated, less as a question and more as an order this time, “Who.”
There was no way in the nine circles of Hell you’d say it, when you didn’t want to believe it in the first place. For fuck’s sake, why? Jungkook only ever made you want to get away from him. That was the case right now, but then… why were your feet frozen?
Some unreasonable part of you seemed to have prevailed upon the others, casting away all resistance from your body and allowing yourself to indulge in Jungkook’s proximity. You met his eyes without fear, held his dark gaze. It didn’t take him long to work it out, yet he kept close, so close your unsteady breaths mingled, the effect akin to intoxication. He was visibly trying to hold back, telling himself it’d be a bad idea, but you prayed he wouldn’t care.
By God or the Devil, your prayers were heard.
Jungkook finally smashed his lips into yours, devouring them with a hunger you shared and felt growing as he gripped your waist to press you against him. A minute ago, you wouldn’t have imagined his tongue belonged inside your mouth, swirling around your own, and now you wanted it all over your body. As if reading your mind, Jungkook broke the ardent kiss to move down to your neck, which he licked painfully slowly before sucking hard, making you hiss with pleasure. He knew that would leave a mark, the bastard. You wondered if it was meant for Jimin, so he’d see you were Jungkook’s, and in such case you didn’t mind, let your eyelids close to enjoy it.
Steered by the lust possessing you, one hand grabbed his soft hair in a fistful, keeping his head in place where he was sweetly abusing your neck, while the other travelled southwards until it reached his crotch and held it over the trousers, feeling his cock stiffen. Jungkook groaned—a vibration to your skin—in retaliation lifting your skirt. You’d thought he'd take his time, tease you, but after ensuring you were wet enough by gliding his middle finger along your core, he slid it inside and began making beckoning motions.
“Master…” you moaned, legs shaking. Jungkook forsook your neck to pull back, watch how you struggled to keep it together as he added another finger, curling and uncurling them both, hitting all the right places, and unwilling to give him that satisfaction without consequences you groped his erection with the same vigour. Although he was in good control of his expression, his breath quivered against your lips, so he kissed them again, biting hard into your lower one.
He exhaled, “You’re driving me to sin…”
Indeed, the same fingers that held the brushes when he painted religious artwork were buried deep inside your cunt, bringing you the most sinful ecstasy. It made you chuckle. Jungkook took that as the mockery it was and, crossed, pulled his fingers out of you to drag you by the arm to the edge of the table, where he had you sit. Without delay he lifted your skirt again, only this time he also pulled down his trousers to reveal his cock, thick and throbbing, which he pumped as he watched you spread your legs eagerly, ready to take all of him.
With his free hand Jungkook cupped your cheek, thumb caressing your lower lip, coated with saliva and reddened still from when he’d bit it. He could sense your desire, that you craved him inside, had for a while. Desperately. And however much tempted he was to make you beg for it, his own arousal led his cock to your entrance and eased it inside already, another groan hitting the back of his bared teeth. You didn’t have time to gasp, his thrusts so quick they earned only moans, so wonderful did it feel.
Jungkook’s hand on your cheek then wrapped around your neck. “Do you know how often I’ve fantasised strangling you?”
You chuckled again as you slapped him across the face. Jungkook halted his movements in shock, glared at you. “And I slapping you?”
It took him a moment, but he scoffed and pushed you back so that you were lying down, climbing next atop you, confident that the wooden table was sturdy enough to hold both. So legs hooked around his torso and arms around his neck, you welcomed his thrusts, rough enough to make your eyes water. But it felt heavenly, how he ravished you... The mutual irritation and tension building up for over half a year translated into indescribable pleasure.
He kissed you again, flicking his tongue against yours as he pounded into you without mercy. Overwhelmed by the sensation, all you could do to express you were nearing your limit was sink your nails into Jungkook’s biceps at each side of you, moan inside his mouth. He took the hint and fucked you as fast as his body would allow, within mere seconds your walls clenching tight around him. The sight of you collapsing under him, overcome with bliss, made him reach his own highest shortly, spurting his warm seed inside you.
As his movements gradually ceased, so did your panting. Before a complete silence fell, you asked, “Am I still to marry Jimin?”
Jungkook grabbed your face and growled against your pouted lips, “You’re not going anywhere.”
5K notes · View notes
wildestdreamsblog · 8 hours
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Latibule Spinoff: Academy Days
Pairing: Mafia/Detective!Park Jimin x Detective!Reader
Summary: In which you thought you could finally shake off the clingy Park Jimin or in which he wasn't as harmless as you thought he was
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Latibule universe Masterlist, Read more in: Kofi Exclusive
“What? That’s dangerous! Why are you placing her there?” he demanded an answer as soon as he heard the announcement that you were one of the few students that would join the elite training. His brows were furrowed as he glared at the instructor, uncaring of the looks he garnered from other students brought by his outburst and to your astonishment. And when the instructor explained how you were more than capable, he merely asked how he could get there.
He listened carefully to the qualifications he needed to obtain, and you shook your head as the instructor indulged him, all while thinking that he would not be able to follow you, finally. But to your amazement, Jimin didn't back down. He accepted the challenge with a resolve that bordered on stubbornness. “Does that mean that I only need to beat three people?”
The instructor blinked at his chosen words, “Uhm, sure?”
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37 notes · View notes
pennyellee · 3 months
Text
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈 | 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐁 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐔 pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s word count: 14K beta read by @chaoticpuff17 (ily) masterlist
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summary: You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?
warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, emotional distress, teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, jk is selfish af, jk is delulu, oral (fem receiving), forced oral (m receiving) spanking, squirting, cum swallowing, creampie, yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, choking, rough sex, pussy pounding, bruises, manipulation, gaslighting, strong language, oppressiveness
disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.
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author's note: so as I said in the preview, this did not go as planned but I really enjoyed writing this to the point that I might do a part 2, perhaps 3, but we'll see about that. JK is delulu af here and the reader does not think through everything. For those who did not read preview and came upon this just now - originally what i wanted to build around was how Rachel Green from Friends was offered a job at Louis Vuitton but it was in Paris and Ross did not want her to go - that was supposed to be the whole plot (with slight changes ofc), well and somehow it went a bit darker than i intended so instead of rom-com, i'd rather listed it as dark romance and yandere. Hope you'll enjoy it! Love, always.
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1996
“He said what now?!” The sentence burst out of you with a high-pitched tone, nearly causing your latte to spill all over your pristine white blouse and grey blazer. Not exactly the ideal way to kick off a new month, you mused as your friend dropped the bombshell about a certain someone.
“That you’re the future mother of his children,” said your friend, an amused smirk playing on her face. “I seriously don’t know how you can still resist him, girl.” But resist him, you did.
Jeon Jungkook was undoubtedly one of the most sought-after and sexiest heartthrobs of the decade, possessed the best face card in the industry and carried the biggest ego in all of New York City. You could vividly recall the day he strolled inside of your office with the head of your department. A cocky, playful grin plastered on his face the moment his eyes landed on you.
Right from the very beginning, you made it crystal clear to Jungkook that your relationship would be strictly professional during your collaboration on the Calvin Klein project. He was given his own collection of men’s wear, and the job to work with him fell upon you.
You knew that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you to elevate your standing within the fashion circle. Jeon Jungkook’s fame was immense, and your name would be signed on the collection too. It’s not like you are head over heels that your name would be associated specifically with Jeon Jungkook, but you understood right away that this could put you on the radar. Your boss had even hinted at the possibility of a higher position within the department.
He constantly teased you, flirted shamelessly, and crossed boundaries by touching you as if you were his girlfriend. It was wildly inappropriate, especially given that the two of you had never even gone out for a work dinner or lunch alone. There were always other people from the team, and yet he always managed to find a way to sit right next to you. But it seems Jungkook was still living in an illusion where you were his girlfriend.
Your gaze shifted to the majestic Twin Towers, standing proudly in the distance, as you let out an annoyed puff of air.
“He’s ridiculous,” you finally declared.
“Or cute,” countered your friend, opposing your viewpoint. She found this pseudo-relationship with Jungkook amusing, but a small part of her secretly wished you’d just give in and go out with him. It was quite some time since you were in a relationship, and Jeon Jungkook would definitely be a nice catch. You were not interested. Or you tried to persuade others that you aren’t.
“No, ridiculous,” you retorted again, lips pursed, and brows furrowed.
“Oh, come on, give him a chance finally!!” she exclaimed.
“Absolutely not! He’s egoistic, manipulative, a cocky little bastard with damn good hair,” you said, your tone rising as you reached your final proclamation, which had simply slipped out of your mind that way.
“See? One good thing — good hair. Marry him,” she laughed it off.
“Now you’re being ridiculous, and I’m going to be late for work.” You said while dusting your black skirt, grabbing your purse, and leaving a few bucks for the coffee. The song on the radio stopped your departure for a moment, listening to the familiar voice coming from it, you rolled your eyes.
“That’s a clear sign, Y/N. Give it a chance!” she called after you, and you couldn’t help but throw a side eye her way, though a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips nonetheless.
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As the day passed, you found yourself increasingly entangled in the whirlwind of meetings, fittings, and photoshoots with an ever-present Jungkook. The photoshoots, in particular, became a source of both frustration and amusement. However today, a bigger problem surfaced.
“Why’s he half-naked, Lucy?!” You hissed at your assistant. Normally, you are very kind and respectful to everyone, but Jungkook had managed to irk you the moment you stepped into your office, finding him already seated in your chair with that smirk you despised. Bringing a coffee for you, which you never drink, or donuts that you always share with the department - not eating one yourself.
Jungkook, adorned in the latest Calvin Klein designs you two had meticulously crafted together, claimed a personal touch of his persona— at least, that’s how he described it. He looked effortlessly handsome, the camera adoring him, but what grated on your nerves was that his attention was solely focused on teasing you.
“We also have shirts, why is he not wearing one?!” You continued, expressing your disagreement to what was before you. What angered you even more was that you could not stop staring at his abs.
“We shot with shirts earlier. They said the underwear and jeans will appear more artistic if his V line and abs—”
“Alright! Alright!” You stopped her in mid-sentence. You didn’t want to look that way nor you didn’t want to admit that showcasing his V-line would enhance the aesthetics of the jeans. Therefore, you took a deep breath and walked towards the refreshments, you were in need of a second cup of coffee.
You heard the photographer call for a break, but you were focused on calming yourself with a steaming cup of coffee. Despite your irritation, you couldn’t deny that he looked breath-taking in the outfits you had designed, and it infuriated you.
Suddenly, two arms were laid flat on the table’s surface, caging you in between. You could imagine his devilish grin. He did this way too often, whether it was his fingers lightly tracing your arm or tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, looking intently into your eyes until you were fighting yourself to not get lost in his Bambi eyes.
“We’re almost done for today,” he whispered seductively into your right ear, his lips almost touching it. Your breath stammered.
“And yet you did not learn a single thing about professionalism or work ethic.” You bit sarcastically, turning slowly to face him.
Jungkook’s grin only widened at your remark, and you couldn’t decide whether you were infuriated or slightly flustered by his audacity. He leaned in even closer, his breath grazing your ear as he spoke in a low, husky tone.
“Tutor me then, in bedroom — preferably” he suggested, his lips still dangerously close to the shell of your ear.
“I don’t think so. You’re beyond help,” you shot back, trying to assert control over the situation. His proximity was distracting, and you couldn’t afford to let him undermine the fact that you were in charge.
Jungkook continued to hover over you, the photographer calling for everyone to regroup for the next set of shots. You seized the opportunity to escape his magnetic pull, smoothly slipping out from between the table and his arms, deciding to escape to your humble office, seeking solace in the calmness it provided.
It wasn’t long before the shoot officially ended, and you knew damn well, that the man wouldn’t leave you alone. The door creaked open, and you turned to find Jungkook leaning against the frame, that infernal smirk still etched onto his face.
“We did a good job, why don’t we celebrate it over at my place, baby?” he complimented, but there was an undertone of something else in his voice. You overlooked his physique and leaned back in your chair, narrowing your eyes, making a clicking sound with your tongue.
“Jungkook, again, this was a professional collaboration. Nothing more,” you asserted, emphasising each word. If you did not say this sentence at least a hundred times you don’t know. He never takes it seriously; it appears as he is still trying to hammer his way into your guarded heart.
He pushed himself off the doorframe and sauntered closer. “We’ll see about that,” he said, leaving you with a cryptic grin as he exited your office. The only thing you could do is sigh.
Before you went to continue working, you heard how Jungkook’s voice echoed from the hallway.
“I bet I can change your mind, sweetheart!”
You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath.
“Not a chance.”
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The denim collection with Jungkook was taking shape, and the buzz surrounding the collaboration grew with each passing day. A success, your boss was much more than pleased.
This success, however, meant even more for you. You were on cloud nine, basking in the glory of your hard work and the prospect of a ground-breaking partnership. Totally, forgetting to play unreachable when it came to the clinging boy who starred in this iconic collaboration. And that must have given him a false hope, perhaps a narrative in which you were his girl.
You were sitting in your office when you hung up the telephone after speaking with the vice president of Guess that contacted you earlier last week, offering you a part in a project for their brand, in Los Angeles. A dream come true for you. Leaving this place, after years of building your career from scratch, felt overwhelming. You loved working under Klein, yet it was time for you to take it higher. Your boss did not offer you a new position, and therefore, you did not hesitate to take the job opportunity and elevate yourself in fashion ranks.
It was an offer too tempting to resist, and you found yourself diving headfirst into the project, not even looking at the door when someone stepped in without knocking.
“You may leave the reception reports on the table, Lucy,” you said once feeling a presence in your office, not raising your eyesight from your computer, writing the prompts for the project Guess wants you to lead. Your twelve days’ notice already printed out, ready to be signed by your boss. You planned to stop by his office after you would finish writing the draft and sending it to the Guess team together with the copy of your portfolio that you needed to make before you leave.
When there were no reports left on your table after a good long minute, you looked up.
“You can’t just leave.” he said, standing tall in the frame of the door, stepping inside once you finally gave him your attention. You could sense a hint of desperation and anger in his voice.
You raised your brows at him. How does he know? The mere thought of you leaving for LA, leaving him behind, was enough to make him confess the depth of his feelings.
You leaned to the leather armchair and listened to him closely.
“What are you talking about Jungkook?” His eyes betrayed a mix of anxiety and vulnerability as he blurted out his fears.
“What about us? What about everything we’ve built together?” He stepped closer to your desk, looking directly to your eyes. You were taken aback by the raw emotion in his words. The air in the room thickened.
The once-confident man now stood vulnerable before you, stripped of the bravado that had defined him. And you were utterly confused and surprised how delusional this man is.
“What are you even saying, Jungkook?” you questioned, your tone a mix of confusion and frustration.
“You can’t leave me!” He raised his voice an octave higher.
“Calm your tits. I’m a grown-up woman. I can do what I want.” You sassed back at him, tired of this made up situation-ship in his head. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.
“We’ve built something special, and I can’t watch it crumble because of some job offer!” He continued his rampage. You took a moment to breathe his words in, closing your eyes and counting to ten to calm yourself.
“Jungkook, I appreciate your honesty, but I can’t give you what you’re asking for.” This caught him by surprise. Instead of screaming at him, you chose to play the I’ll stay calm and professional card.
His eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of confusion and hurt clouding his features. “What do you mean?”
Choosing your words carefully, you said: “I genuinely value this project we worked on together, but it’s time for us to part our ways.” To fool him was your goal.
Jungkook’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your words settling upon him. “Who are you lying to, Y/N?” His words shocked you.
“I’m not lying Jungkook, I’m telling you the truth to your face, as you were too stubborn to hear it before.” You stood up from your chair, moving to lean on the front of your desk, to show him he cannot get to you.
The room fell into a heavy silence as Jungkook looked deep into your eyes, searching for the truth in your words.
“So, it’s all about the career for you? You’re willing to sacrifice everything else, including us?” Your jaw clenched, but you maintained your composed façade and with flaring nostrils and clenched teeth, you spoke.
“There is no us, Jungkook. Get it into your head already!” So much for being calm. The room crackled with tension as the argument reached an impasse. Jungkook shook his head, a mixture of disbelief and frustration.
“I can’t believe you’re throwing away what we have because of some job.” Your eyes widened even more and the fact he would not listen boiled your blood.
“Do I need to spell it out for you? I’m not your girlfriend! I was never your girlfriend, and I will never be your girlfriend!”
But Jungkook wasn’t ready to accept defeat. His frustration reached a boiling point too, and without warning, he grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you into an intense, angry kiss. It was a clash of emotions, a tumultuous blend of passion and anger that fuelled the fiery exchange.
Your initial instinct was to resist, to push him away, but the intensity of the kiss ignited a different kind of fire within you. His lips moved fiercely against yours, gripping your ass in his hands, making you moan to his lips. Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers threading through the dishevelled locks as the kiss deepened, your frustration causing to tug them. He growled from pleasure at the sensation.
It was a collision of lips and tongues, a heated exchange that spoke volumes without a single word. Once his hands disappeared under your skirt and the heat intensified, a sudden surge of clarity washed over you, breaking the intoxicating spell.
With a forceful push, you broke away from the kiss, creating a space between you and Jungkook. You locked eyes with him, your chest heaving as you struggled to regain control of the situation.
“I need you to leave,” you stated, your voice cutting through the lingering tension, you leaned against the desk, your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment.
Jungkook, still caught in the haze of desire, tried to close the distance again, but you held up a hand, halting his advance.
“Leave!” You growled, turning your back to him. You didn’t want him to see your face anymore, because soon enough, tears would break from your eyes. You’re overwhelmed.
A loud bang of the door signalled that he finally understood and left. Breaking down with tears streaming down your cheeks you gasped for air. Tears blurred your vision as you struggled to regain composure.
You’ve counted to ten again, wiping your tears. You felt taken advantage of. He went too far this time. But this was only the beginning of his tremulous and wicked plan he had for you.
You packed your purse, ready to leave your office, you just needed to grab your work portfolio that you needed to send over to Guess. But the space it always inhabited, on the conference table, was empty. And you had one lucky guess who the thief was. “Fucking bastard.”
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In the days that followed, the chaos in your personal and professional life escalated. The stolen portfolio, a representation of your work, became a haunting absence. As if the life source of your hard work was cut down.
Determined to salvage what remained of your career, you began the arduous task of recreating it. But time was not on your side, and as you delved into the meticulous process, news of your termination from Calvin Klein reached you like a punch to the gut.
The phone call was impersonal, a cold voice delivering the news of your dismissal as if reading from a script. Some Jack from the HR department spoke to you, someone you have never ever seen in the building whatsoever. Your boss did not even pick up the call when you wanted to ask what made them push the decision to let you go. You certainly did not deserve this after years of working for the brand. The reasons were vague and you knew this had to source from someone powerful. In simple terms, someone snitched that you’re planning to leave.
As the reality of unemployment settled in, you clung to the remnants of optimism that lingered, but even that proved elusive.
You were hundred percent sure that he is trying to sabotage your whole life when the call from Guess, a reason you did not fight for your position at Klein’s delivered another blow.
Their decision not to collaborate with you crushed the remnants of optimism that clung to your spirit. The dream that had seemed within reach now slipped through your fingers, leaving you in a free fall of uncertainty.
They hadn’t even granted you the courtesy of waiting for your portfolio, even though it wouldn’t be what they expected. Whatever oral agreement had been in place disintegrated. So here you are — jobless.
All this left you reeling with disbelief. The career you had meticulously built, the dreams that had taken years to nurture, all unravelling at the seams. The pain was visceral, a mix of frustration, anger, and a profound sense of betrayal.
You were certain that Jeon Jungkook himself was pulling the strings behind the scenes. And you hated him for it, needed to confront him and say that shit with your chest right to his face— he can go fuck himself. Set the record straight once you’re there.
Whatever he was thinking by ruining your career will force you to do, he better fix it before you’ll sing to the media about his bunny smile and kind heart being all fake. The line had been crossed, and he would face the consequences of pushing you to the brink. Or so you thought it would go how your brain delusional thought it through.
Hence, with a heavy heart and a determination to confront the chaos head-on, you stood before the front door of his infamous penthouse. Emotions swirling within you like a tempest.
With a deep breath, you knocked, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway. The door swung open, revealing Jungkook’s bunny smile reaching his eyes.
“Well, well well, are we ready to talk like adults, pretty?” He mocked this whole situation because he knew this would end up in his favour, nonetheless.
He moved back to let you in, and you stepped into his apartment, a mixture of anger and desperation in your gaze.
“I know you took it,” you said, crossing your arms on your breasts. The heels of your black leather boots echoed in the apartment when you turned to face him.
“Took your breath away by that heated kiss, sexy, certainly. Otherwise, I did not take anything.” Jungkook scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. The tension in the room was palpable as you square your shoulders, refusing to back down. You blinked twice at his cheesiness. The tip of your tongue moved to rest on the bottom of your upper teeth, your smile spreading on your face. The chuckle came out of you so naturally, laughing at his ridiculously ridiculous behaviour.
“Don’t play dumb, I know it was all you. You malicious sabotaging petty boy—” You retorted, articulation perfectly clear while the words laced with underlying frustration and anger.
He sighed, weariness settling over him. “You think I stole your portfolio to sabotage your career? You’re giving me too much credit, love.” Here he comes.
“I said nothing about my portfolio, Jungkook.” You said playing with his name on your tongue. A tense silence hung in the air as he considered your words, clicking his tongue, clearly annoyed and you were just getting started.
“I managed to figure that out. A drink? —” He offered, shrugging her statements of like snow in summer whilst he moved to the small bar that was a part of his spacious living room.
“I don’t want a drink, Jungkook. I want it back now,” you replied, your tone cutting through the casual offer. The anger in your gaze intensified, fuelled by the frustration of dealing with his nonchalant attitude.
“Let’s talk, baby.” He gestured towards the living room, as if trying to usher you into a more comfortable setting for the impending confrontation. He knew this was just a little shower, the real storm was still far away, giving him space to prepare.
As you moved, you could not help but notice the contrast between your demeanour and his. While your arms were still crossed defensively, his posture exuded a calm confidence that irked you further.
You took a seat on the edge of the sofa, not willing to fully settle into the illusion of camaraderie. Jungkook, on the other hand, sprawled onto a nearby chair, the picture of nonchalance.
“I need that portfolio to get a job because a certain someone has to be bitchy and sabotage my whole career because his big ass ego cannot take rejection. Give it to me,” you fired off, your words sharp and accusatory. He leaned back in the chair, smirking.
“Those are very bold words, Y/N. I would prefer to think of it as a wake-up call for you, not sabotage.” Your incredulous glare only intensified.
“Are you fucking serious Jungkook? A wake up call? You’ve just jeopardised everything I’ve worked for, and you’re calling this a wake up call?”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze locked onto yours.
“I can get you a better job.”
You scoffed. The audacity of his response fuelled the simmering anger within you.
“You can’t get a shit, so give it back to me, and I’ll be on my way,” you requested.
Jungkook’s smirk remained, an infuriating mix of arrogance and nonchalance.
“No,” he said, smiling. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, the frustration reaching a boiling point. He leaned back, seemingly unperturbed by your rising anger.
“What do you mean no?!” you shot back, your voice sharp.
“You were about to make a decision that would have consequences beyond your imagination. I had to intervene.”
“What the fuck are you on again?” Jungkook’s gaze remained fixed on you, the intensity of his stare almost unnerving while your voice went an octave higher. Your frustration reached its peak, and you stood up, pacing the room as you ranted. You were breathing heavily, trying to calm yourself.
You needed that portfolio, it was a collection of years of a work and your best work to be specific. The lousy new version won’t get you a job at no high-profile fashion brand and you cannot afford to go lower than your last position.
“Alright—” You said defeated, turning yourself to face him again, you put off your black leather jacket and fixed your low ponytail, slumping back to his sofa. Spreading your arms on the backrest and cross your legs.
Jungkook took a moment to breathe in the sight before him; he was throbbing for you.
“—what do you want?” you asked. He leaned back further into the chair, putting his masculine tattooed arms to rest on the back of his head, showing his abs from under the white tank top he is wearing.
“What do I want?” he mused, as if contemplating the question but he already knew.
“Spill it out.” You barked and he chuckled at your eagerness. He got up from his seat and dangerously slowly walked towards you.
When he reached you, both of his arms pressed to the leather of the sofa inches from you, caging your body. Your breath stammered as you looked at him towering over you, the golden chain around his neck hanging.
“Firstly, I want you to be my good girl, apologise for being a brat the other day and admit there is an “us”. Secondly—” he whispered seductively, closing the approximate distance while doing so. He was right in your face, looking over at your lips evidently, he was controlling himself to not attack them. He invaded your personal space. The sudden shift in atmosphere left you breathless, and you could feel the heat radiating between you.
You squared your shoulders, refusing to succumb to the intoxicating energy he exuded. “I won’t apologise for any shit, now secondly?” You said while trying to hold your horses. You hate to admit your pussy was clenching and leaking under his gaze. He was attractive, and no one could deny that.
His fingers grazed your cheek gently, a teasing touch that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. You swallowed hard, trying to maintain a semblance of composure.
“I want these feisty little plump lips wrapped around my thick cock—” you pushed him away from you once you heard his words. Grabbing your jacket and storming your way out to the door, angry with yourself that you let it go this far.
“You walk out that door, and you’re done in this city, fuck even the whole continent if I want,” Jungkook declared, his tone heavy with a sense of entitlement. The words hung in the air, a threat laced with possessiveness that sent a chill down your spine.
“You’re bluffing.” His eyes darkened, a storm brewing in their depths.
“You’re underestimating the consequences, Y/N. I’ll snap my fingers, and you won’t get a job. Anywhere.” A bitter laugh escaped your lips. You did not believe him one bit, determined to try harder at the job hunting.
“You’ve already done enough. You can’t do worse.” You scoffed, the absurdity of his demands pushing you further away. He stepped closer, the air thick with tension.
“You’re not leaving, Y/N. Either you’ll be my good girl and apologise, or all it will take is one phone call.” As you reached for the doorknob, he grabbed your arm with a force that bordered on aggression.
“I am my own woman, Jungkook.” Your eyes flashed with determination as you wrenched your arm free, emphasising every word of the sentence you just uttered.
With that, you swung the door open and stormed out, leaving Jungkook’s apartment and the tumultuous mess behind. The city lights greeted you outside, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere within.
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Your telephone remained eerily silent, devoid of the calls and opportunities that once filled it with promise. Jungkook’s vindictiveness had effectively severed the threads connecting you to your professional life, leaving you adrift in a sea of uncertainties.
A tear escaped your eye as you clutched the piece of paper you fetched out of your mailbox — an eviction notice. You had fallen behind on rent, pleading with your landlord for more time, promising to pay in full for two months once you secured a job. But that ended up not happening, and that’s how you find yourself sitting in a messy apartment full of half packed boxes, no job, little money left, and a bottle of cheap wine.
Moving in with friends or seeking refuge with your parents was not an option. They never supported your dreams enough to provide for you in such dire circumstances, especially at your age. Unmarried, jobless, and on the brink of homelessness, you felt trapped.
Despite your efforts to secure another job, including poorly recreating parts of your portfolio, rejections piled up, and the search for a new apartment proved equally futile. Not like you could afford it anyway.
The city that once held promise now felt like a maze of closed doors and dead ends. The mere thought of dialling his number sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of pride and necessity wrestling within you.
You drank the last of your wine, hiccupped, and cried. With only twenty-four hours to vacate your flat for the new tenant to come in. The friends you once thought you could rely on were facing their own struggles, unable to provide the sanctuary you so desperately needed. You had nowhere to go apart to his clutches if you of course did not want to freeze to death in the bustling city. It confused you how it came to having no other option.
Taking a deep breath, you dialled his number, each ring echoing the surrender of your independence. The telephone rang in your trembling hand. As the call connected, a heavy silence hung in the air and you desperately tried to calm your breathing.
“Jeon speaking,” his voice crackled through the phone. You were shaking in cold sweat, your eyes blood red from crying and alcohol clouded your mind enough to call him.
“Hello?” you heard his voice speak again, and another sob left your lips. The lump in your throat made it difficult to speak, but you pushed through the discomfort.
“I-I’m sorry.” The man on the other line smirked, seemingly thrilled to hear your voice. The next sentence you uttered, however, was even sweeter music to his ears.
“I need you.”
You heard his car park in front of your building the next morning. The boxes were long gone on their way to the heart of Manhattan where Jungkook’s penthouse awaited. It was only you and your suitcase with only necessities packed inside. The reality of the situation hit you as you looked around at the empty apartment. The purple walls, once full of pictures from trips with your friends, were now bare. The fridge stripped of silly magnets you liked to collect, stood empty. Nothing left.
Taking a deep breath, you gripped the handle of your suitcase with a sense of resignation. You glanced out of the window on your way out, finding Jungkook casually leaning against his shiny black Jaguar, smiling directly at you. Closing your eyes, you mentally said goodbye to your small apartment.
Your hair, lazily put into a hair clip when you woke up, had a few stray strands escaping, framing your face that still showed signs of swelling from crying all night.
As you stepped out into the hallway, the door closing behind you, the weight of the suitcase in your hand served as a physical reminder of the choice you had made. Is this really your only option?
The sound of Jungkook’s footsteps echoed in the corridor, approaching closer with each passing second. He ran up the stairs just as you were locking the door. His gummy smile met your gaze, a clear expression of his happiness. The heartthrob had finally gotten you where he wanted you all along.
He was dressed in a denim jacket and jeans from the collection you worked on. As if he was intent on reminding you of something. His long curly locks were gone, replaced by a short mullet.
You, on the other hand, did not feel to dress classy and elegant as you usually did. You swapped heels for a pair of white sneakers, a tight designer skirt for simple blue boyfriend jeans and your upper body was covered by a white shirt layered with a pink shirt you loosely tight on your waist, leaving the buttons half open.
“Baby?” he called out. You must’ve zoned out, as now he was holding your suitcase in his hand, ready to leave.
“M’sorry, I was in my head,” you apologised. You didn’t want to upset him by negatively reacting to the pet name even though you irked to tell him you’re not his baby.
He smiled softly, putting the suitcase down, walking over to you. He caressed your cheek, leaning in for a kiss. Turning your face, he landed his lips on your other cheek. The man chuckled and put the freed strands of your hair behind your ear. “Don’t worry. I got you now.”
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The drive to Jungkook’s penthouse was filled with an uncomfortable silence as the city lights passed by in a dizzying display.
“Welcome home!” The words hung in the air, the irony not lost on you. This was far from a home; it was a gilded cage you succumbed to. You did not answer him. You couldn’t bring yourself to do so.
He was saying something about a closet, but your mind totally spaced out looking at the boxes that you packed hours prior, casually sitting in his living room.
“Baby?” You looked at him, eyes wide when you realised you were not listening to him again.
“Do you want to start unpacking or should we head out for brunch first?” He approached you. Jungkook did not stop smiling since he pulled his car in front of your building.
Unpacking felt like an acceptance of this new reality, while brunch felt like an attempt to hold onto some semblance of normalcy.
“I... I think we should talk,” you finally managed to say, your voice carrying the uncertainty that lingered within. Jungkook’s smile wavered for a moment, but he quickly masked it.
You couldn’t ignore the fact that your life had taken a sharp turn, and the unfamiliar surroundings only intensified the sense of displacement. Jungkook threw himself at his sofa just where you were sitting months prior. He motioned with his hand, silently ordering you to sit.
“I promise not to bother you long. I just need you to get me off the blacklist so I can get a job. I can’t be tied to you indefinitely.” You spoke softly, careful to not anger him just yet. You knew he wouldn’t appreciate the direction this conversation was heading, but you needed to set the record straight. This was temporary, at least in your mind.
Jungkook’s expression shifted, a subtle tension in his features. He sighed. Leaning forward, Jungkook grabbed the remote control of the HiFi that was standing proud, setting it on, and whence the soft tones of Isaak’s “Wicked Game” resonated the penthouse, you could not help but raise an eyebrow.
He petted his knee, a silent invitation. You were not stupid to not understand what he wants, yet you opted to sit next to him instead of where he wanted you.
“Maybe we got lost in translation, love.” He spoke leaning closer to you. The music seemed to underscore the unspoken tension in the room.
“You won’t leave me, baby. I’ll keep you so satisfied and happy; you won’t even want to go.” He whispered to your ear. The atmosphere became charged with a palpable desire. His proximity sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of temptation and resistance.
“You can’t keep me here against my will, Jungkook,” you asserted, maintaining a thin thread of defiance. Yet, the allure of his touch lingered in the air, clouding your better judgement.
“Try me, love. I’ve got ways to make you stay,” he countered, his tone dripping with confidence.
It took all you have in you to stand up and storm to the large windows that provided a magnificent view of Manhattan. This time, however, he was right behind you.
You heard him growl. He was angry, and he proved so once you found yourself pinned to the large window, your back facing him. He attacked your neck right away, bruising every single inch. His hand roamed over your breast, squeezing them to the point you had to moan. The situation escalated rather quickly, your resistance made him press you to his back even harder.
“I’m so tired of your running,” he groaned into your neck. You put your hands on the glass trying to push yourself away and give yourself space to free from his grasp, but he has put a majority of his weight on you. You can feel his growing pulsating bulge on your heart-shaped bottom.
“Maybe I should show you, who you belong to, princess.” He cupped your sex through your pants, and you whimpered from the sensation. You knew this was utterly wrong; you should not react to his touch this way, but you couldn’t help to notice the wetness pooling in between your legs once he continues to attack your neck with his soft plump lips.
“Jungkook-” You tried to resist, but his hand was already done with unbuttoning your jeans, sliding right down to your core. Your panties were sticky, your head was spinning, and the part of a window was getting foggy right next to your mouth from your hot breath.
“I’m gonna fuck you so good.” He pulled his hand out of your pants for a second to wet his fingers and put them right back on the little bud that was waiting to be touched. He pressed his fingertips on your clit, circling it painfully slow. The heartthrob rutted his hips into your ass, looking for a friction, making you move your hips towards his hand. He chuckled to your ear.
“If you want that job, baby, why don’t you deserve it first?” you could sense a little hint of mockery in his voice. The pulsating beats of the music seemed to echo the rhythm of his movements. Now slow and calculated.
As the song reached its crescendo, his finger entered your vibrating heat. “Hm?” He pried, his finger moving in and out in punishingly slow, drawing silent moans from you when he brushed up the right spot.
“W-what do you want?” You stammered out of yourself.
“You. All of you of course.” Jungkook replied in a heartbeat. Your heart raced and your head was clouded by the pleasure he was providing. Moving his finger slightly faster, you found yourself bowing forward, your body wanted him to reach deeper.
“Please—” you whimpered when he slowed down the tempo again.
“Give me an answer baby, will you be my good girl?” Now it was your mind that raced, grappling with the implications of his question while squeezing your walls around his finger.
“Maybe you need a little more convincing, hm?” He softly bit your earlobe whilst inserting his second finger into your heat, making you moan louder than before. You pressed your forehead onto the glass and looked down at his hand in between your legs. The sight made your pussy clench even harder. A small tear escaped your eye, you are overwhelmed, and the pleasure is clouding your sound judgement.
“What will it be, baby?” His fingers finally raised the tempo, and your eyesight was getting blurry, biting your lip from the sensation.
“Fuck—” you nibbed at your bottom lip a bit harder, trying to fight with yourself. But you couldn’t. He was playing a game, and he was winning this round.
“Yes!” you screamed louder than you intended when he hit the sweet spot, making you see stars. You did not necessarily want to agree. It was more of a reaction to how good his fingers feel inside of you. But Jungkook’s interpretation did not align with yours.
What you did not expect is the sudden feel of emptiness once his fingers abdicated its place. You protested with an unpleasant whine of frustration.
He spun you to face him, being quick enough to grab you below your ass, illocutionary forcing you to jump up. Jungkook leaned in to kiss you while he navigated the apartment blindly, right to the master bedroom.
Now you were feeling thrown. Literally. Your body bounced a little while Jungkook stood at the foot of his king sized bed adorned in black sheets. You could smell his expensive cologne on them. He was very eager to continue what you started.
His shirt was long gone and so were his pants when he was pulling down yours, alongside with your through-and-through wet panties. He very quickly inhabited his head in between your legs. Licking all the dirty juice your pussy was producing.
You could not help but to bury your fingers into his hair, slightly tugging on it once he decided to abuse your clit, sucking on it, his piercing cold against your skin. You were starting to feel the knot inside your lower belly, moaning and panting out loud.
“I’m gonna!—” you breathed out heavily. Squeezing your eyes shut, feeling the heat rushing your body.
“Not yet,” said the heartthrob, parting away from you. You shot your eyes open to look at him towering over you, his briefs thrown away somewhere in the room, and his pride leaning proudly against his abdomen, angry and red. The perfect opposite of soft. You gulped down. He was definitely not lying when he suggested he is thick.
The heartthrob helped you get rid of the rest of your clothes, bending down to lay a single kiss right above your clit, maintaining eye contact with you all the time. Sticking his tongue out yet again, making a straight wet line up your belly, ending at the valley between your breasts.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He groaned, squeezing your tits while pumping his dick, he could not take it anymore.
He spread your legs further, making space for him to fit right in. Your walls are trembling from excitement, especially when he presses the length of his cock to your lips, coating himself in your juices.
“Condo—” you went to say when his lips silenced you in a hard passionate kiss. He moaned to your mouth, pressing the tip of his cock to your entrance, stretching you open. You pressed your hands to his chest, parting away from him. He looked at you with confusion and you repeated yourself.
“Condom, Guk,” you said, using the nickname in an attempt to soften his hard features. Something told you that you might have just pissed him off. The heartthrob sighed and involuntarily got up, walking all the way to the bathroom, giving you a million-dollar view of his ass. Your gaze then shifted to his muscular shoulders, involuntarily admiring his impressive physique. You couldn’t deny he was hot as hell.
Your nipples were perky from the thrill that your body was going through. It was quite some time since the last you got laid. Maybe that’s why it took him minimum effort to turn you into a whiny, needy little bitch.
You heard the light switch going off in the bathroom, and the man himself appearing in the doorframe with the little shiny square in his hands. Tearing it open, he returned to sit on his knees on the bed while sliding the condom on.
He grabbed your legs under your knees with one swift movement, sliding you closer to him. One hand aiming his cock to your entrance the other finding its place on your throat, holding it with the right pressure to elevate your pleasure. Pushing all the way through, you whimpered loudly at the intrusion. He was big, and you felt like you’re going to explode. The heat rushed through you like a momentary fever.
The heartthrob could not wait for you to adjust to his size, and he started to snap his hips into you in a punishing tempo, making your body bounce up at every thrust and clench your eyes shut tightly. Loud moans coming out of you.
“You take me so well, baby.” He whispered into your ear seductively, panting and groaning from the pleasure. He was on cloud nine, finally having the woman he longed for quite some time.
“Got me waiting for this pussy almost the whole damn year.” You met his hungry gaze, your moaning synchronised with his. He crushed his lips to yours one more time before thrusting his cock in and out of your heat faster and deeper.
You bit down on his lip, him groaning at the sensation, slapping your ass in the heat of the moment.
“This pussy was fucking designed for me.” He claimed you.
He was hitting all the right places, making you squeeze your eyes shut again. He upheld his promise to fuck you good. You can regret this after, now it’s not the time.
“M’wanna pound this pretty ass too.” He pulled out of you, turning you to lay on your belly, slapping the already reddened skin before setting you on all fours, ass up. He did not hesitate to rut inside of you again, feeling him all the way in your stomach, you screamed his name.
“Jungkook!” his thrusts set a brutal pace that you were not sure if you’ll survive. Their moans continued to echo in the room.
“You belong to me.” He growled, pounding your pussy, the sound of skin slapping was audible ten times louder than usual. The knot in your lower belly appeared again, got you moaning uncontrollably.
Jungkook sensed that your climax was near and went to rub your clit with the desire to make you cum all over him while getting himself off with you.
“Guk—” you choked on your words, your legs and hands were trembling, tears springing out of your eyes. You desperately needed to cum.
“I know, baby.” He kissed the arch of your back, making his hand and hips move even faster, hitting your cervix. If this is heaven, you don’t want to leave.
“I-I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!” You shouted, feeling the knot untying itself rather quickly. Jungkook growled right to your ear. He was close too, dangerously close.
“Baby!” He whimpered, feeling the tension rising.
Your juice splashed the sheets as you squirted all over his cock, crying, the orgasm hitting you way too hard. Jungkook’s hips did not stop while he chased his own release, complimenting you, your body, and how you are such a good girl while doing so. With a loud moan and one last deep thrust, he came in you, holding you still while he emptied himself. The warmth of his release felt too authentic, but you were too fucked out to notice.
As you were also too fucked out to notice the empty abandoned condom laying on the ground.
“I love you so much baby—”
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It was getting dark outside when you woke up, your head pounding as you looked over your naked body and evident ache in between your legs. The sheer curtains that are covering the floor to ceiling windows, once airy and light, now filter the early evening light into a soft, diffused glow, creating a cosy atmosphere. You cuddled the soft sheets that were wrapped around your lower body, thinking that you could sleep some more.
But when you heard the muted notes of En Vogue’s Whatta Man blasting somewhere in the penthouse, any hopes of serenity were shattered. A curse slipped through your lips as the reality of your surroundings hit you.
“Fuck,” you muttered through your teeth, the small fists pounding against the bed. To muffle the scream of mixed emotions, you seized a leopard-patterned pillow, pressing it against your face.
You had willingly let this happen, all for the pursuit of a damn book and damn fucking job and your damn fucking career. But why was it so precious, you might ask? Your portfolio wasn’t just a collection of pages bound together; it was a culmination of dreams, aspirations, and relentless hard work. Each design you made over the years, a carefully curated piece of your artistic vision, held a piece of your soul.
The portfolio was your identity as a designer, a visual storyteller who poured emotions, creativity, and skill into each piece of clothing. It was something you presented yourself with, and you believed it held the power to open doors. It got you your first adult job after you spent two years in the big apple on your own, dreaming big while washing dishes behind the counter.
And it got you the second job of your early fashion career, a higher position than sales assistant, the head designer at the men’s wear division at Calvin Klein. You were aiming to become the head of the department when a better offer came your way, from Guess.
The project they offered you to be a part of was a kind of interview to get through and sit as the executive director of the women’s department. You were thrilled to accept as you always wanted to design for your gender.
And he fucked it up. So, you have to excuse yourself by letting your guard down, giving him a chance to sway you. You are doing this for you and your career.
You sat on the bed, eyeing the modern bedroom that screamed his name as did the smell of the room. Just like you remembered before you blacked out from all the pleasure he forced upon you.
Sighing, you moved your sore naked body to the edge of the bed. A black leather armchair caught your eye, a clean set of underwear laid out on it, burning under your gaze. You gulped down. This was your mess after all. You let him come too close—extremely close, judging by the recurring ache between your legs.
“Fuck it, it’s fine.” You’d manage somehow, or at least, that’s how you decided to play along with his nonsensical fantasy and possessive behaviour.
You tiptoed down the penthouse, searching for the devil. You knew you were going the right way when the music grew louder. Peeking from the narrow hallway into the living room, he was nowhere in sight. Only the RCA telly with MTV on indicated that he must’ve been there.
The sizzling sound of something cooking and a pleasant aroma hit your ears and nose. He was in the kitchen, cooking. Jeon Jungkook was in the kitchen, cooking. A certain degree of domesticity welcomed you as you stepped into the all-blue kitchen. His kitchen was way nicer than yours, you noted. Large cabinets, the island full of food ingredients he was preparing. Your gaze lingered as your eyes traced his masculine, naked back, tattoos shouting at you. Your knees felt weak at the sight, your body reacting to him as if he were the alpha wolf.
You couldn’t help but bite your lip. He was swaying his hips to the rhythm of the song. Even from this point of view, you could tell he is in a very good mood. It seemed like he was glowing.
You leaned against the arch, contemplating whether to make your presence known or observe from the shadows. Before you could decide, he turned around, planning to cut the vegetables, his eyes locking onto yours immediately. Bunny smile plastered on his face, reaching his ears — a juxtaposition to how anxious you looked in his big shirt.
Quickly circling the kitchen island, he reached you in a matter of seconds. The heartthrob was beaming with happiness seeing you in his kitchen, in his shirt, barefoot, face raw, and all his. At least, that was his perspective after he finally got you where he wanted you.
“Baby!” He squeaked happily, pulling you by your wrists. The movement causes your petite frame to collide with his naked torso. Jungkook did not let you speak even if you wanted to, instead he pulled you even closer, pressing his lips to yours. You yelped, surprised by the unexpected collision. The vulnerability you felt in his presence only heightened as he claimed you, his happiness seemingly derived from having you exactly where he wanted—vulnerable and dependent on him.
The kiss lingered for a moment, and as Jungkook pulled back, his eyes locked onto yours again, gleaming with an unspoken mischief you could not decipher. He seemed to revel in the flustered state he had induced, and a cocky grin played on his lips.
“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered, his warm breath grazing your ear as he finally released your wrists, pecking your lips softly again. The shirt you wore clung to your form.
“It’s almost five pm.” You muttered back after you gave the digital clock on the stove a glance. He laughed it off, not replying.
“How do you like your steak?” he asked, his tone casual as if the passionate kiss hadn’t just occurred.
“M-medium rare,” you stammered, still processing the sudden turn of events. He chuckled, the sound resonating in the cosy kitchen as he came back to the stove to resume cooking, what you assumed is your dinner. Your stomach growled loudly when the delicious smell hit your nostrils, loudly. Jungkook even looked your way, encouraging you to take whatever you wanted from the fridge that was next to him, until dinner was ready.
You looked at the silver double-door fridge, and suddenly, your hunger vanished. Those were your magnets that were on your fridge just hours prior. He went through your boxes and unpacked them. The world was spinning, and your stomach was dangerously twisting.
He noticed the change in your expression, the playfulness in his eyes fading as he followed your gaze to the fridge.
“Something wrong, baby?” he inquired. You swallowed hard, attempting to mask the unease that threatened to bubble to the surface.
“No, nothing,” you replied, forcing a tight smile. His attention returned to the stove, the sizzling sounds and savoury aroma filling the kitchen. The clock on the stove continued its indifferent march towards evening. But your mind stopped.
“I-I think—” you stammered, it was hard for you to speak when there was an evident lump in your throat that wanted to emerge to the surface.
“Baby?” he raised a brow at you, letting everything he was doing to approach you again. You gulped down, trying to breathe it out.
“I think... I need—,” you tried, the words escaping in a breathy whisper. Jungkook’s expression shifted from curiosity to concern as he stepped closer. That got you even more anxious and a quick escape was a way you opted.
Your legs carried you back to the room where you knew a bathroom would be near. You heard him calling your name, but he did not run to get you. He must have thought that you’re trying to run again, but when he saw you going the way the master bedroom is, he did not push it.
You slumped right to your knees, emptying your already empty stomach into the toilet. Tears stringed from your eyes. Before you could calm or clean yourself the door creaked open, and Jungkook’s concerned voice seeped into the bathroom.
“Oh my god! Are you okay baby?” He hovered in the doorway, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. You didn’t have the strength to respond, only offering a weak nod as you continued to empty the contents of your stomach.
His footsteps approached, and you could feel him kneeling beside you, one hand tentatively rubbing your back.
“Easy, baby. Easy,” he murmured softly.
After a moment, the nausea subsided, and you leaned back against the cool porcelain, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Jungkook remained by your side, a true concern readable in his eyes.
As you caught your breath, you couldn’t help but notice the familiar objects around the bathroom. Toothbrush, hairbrush, all your makeup and even your pyjamas, had found a place alongside Jungkook’s in the bathroom. He was blurring the lines between your lives.
Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you winced at the sight of prominent hickeys and bite marks adorning your neck. You caught Jungkook’s worrying gaze but did not pay attention to it longer than you needed to.
“When was the last time you ate properly, baby?” he asked, caressing the small of your back, kissing the top of your head. You touched the tender skin on your neck, a mix of shame and regret settling in the pit of your stomach.
You knew very well that this wasn’t a doing of the lack of nutrition within your body but it did stop you to think for a second. When was the last time you had a proper meal and not a cheap ramen noodles from a convenience store near your building? You did not recall, so you rather opted to shrug your shoulders and reach for your toothbrush that could have melted under your gaze at this point.
“Why don’t you freshen up, and I’m going to finish dinner.” He sighed and kissed your temple. You’ve let him. He has done worse. As he left the bathroom, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being exposed—physically, emotionally, and now even in your most private spaces. Your eyes lingered back on the assortment of makeup and personal items neatly arranged beside his.
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Brushing your teeth never felt so foreign and unnatural. Your eyes darted around his room after you finished, and that’s when you noticed what you did not when you woke up —a closet, half-filled with your clothes. Neatly folded, hanged right beside his. Even your jewellery was sorted by the type of metal. Your shoes, your skirts, dresses, everything. He had seamlessly integrated your wardrobe into his, as if signalling an intention far beyond a temporary stay.
Then all your pictures scattered on the walls as you walked down the corridor back to the heartthrob who swayed you here. Feeling the unease building in your stomach again.
Jungkook stood by the table, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched you approach. His eyes flickered with a mixture of amusement and possession. This all seemed like a stage for a performance you hadn’t signed up for.
The steak, perfectly cooked to your liking, accompanied by a side of vegetables. The spread looked delectable, and your stomach rumbled again, reminding you that you hadn’t had a proper meal in days. The scent of the meal teased your senses.
As you picked at your food, a question lingered in the back of your mind—how had it come to this? Have you really had no choice but him? Was this worth the trouble? Perhaps.
Your parents would think of you as a failure if you returned home. and your pride did not allow you to pick up your old job and be a girl for everything. You worked in the fashion industry and you were willing to do anything to maintain it.
“Are you listening to me, baby?” Jungkook broke the stream of your consciousness, his voice soft yet insistent. You hummed in response but your ears could not pick precise words that left his mouth.
“There’s Grammys next week, do you have any design for the red carpet so we could match—”
“What about the job?” You interrupted him, setting your fork down, staring at him viciously.
“So the Grammys—” he tried to continue without replying to you but you were having none of it.
“So the job, Jungkook.” You said through clenched teeth one more time. You weren’t about to let him sidestep the conversation about your career.
He sighed, the corners of his mouth twitching with a momentary annoyance. The room crackled with tension, the unspoken power dynamics unravelling before you.
“You’ve been a very good girl so far—” he lifted the handkerchief he had on his lap and placed it on top of the table next to his glass of red wine.
“Why do you have to misbehave now.” His attempt to redirect the conversation towards your behaviour only fuelled your frustration.
“I’m not misbehaving, Jungkook,” you shot back, your voice sharp and unyielding. “I need to know about the job. I need to know that you’re actually doing something concrete to help me, not just playing puppeteer with my life.”
“There’s an opening at Givenchy, and Prada or Dior but—” your eyes were full of false hope.
“—until I can be sure you won’t leave me the second you get the new job. You won’t go to any interview.” He leaned back, a predatory gleam in his eyes, as if enjoying the power play.
Your mind raced, torn between ambition and self-respect. You had worked tirelessly to establish yourself, and the taste of success was within reach. Yet, the cost demanded by Jungkook was steep—an indefinite surrender of your autonomy.
“That’s not what we agreed upon—” You whined out, anxiety clutching your insights in tight grip.
“Oh but we did baby.” He answered swiftly, smiling sweetly.
“I—” you wanted to protest, but he was quick to dismiss any argument you wanted to come up with.
“I said I want you, and you agreed, baby. You can’t take it back.”
“What does that even mean?!” You whined out.
“That I won’t let you slip through my fingers again. You belong here with me, and you better learn your place or prepare for a farewell with the magnificent fashion world of yours.” The ultimatum echoed in your mind as his gaze was trying to make you submit. Jungkook’s possessiveness loomed over you, a suffocating force that sought to confine your wings.
“You can’t force me,” words slipped past your lips, a proclamation of your refusal to succumb to his dominance.
“You underestimate the lengths I’ll go to keep you, Y/N,” he retorted, his voice low and laced with a dangerous edge.
“You’re sick.” You spat out at him, standing up to leave when he grabbed you and held you tight. You were looking up at his face, seemingly angry with your words. His eyes darkened, a fleeting moment of anger crossing his features.
“Aren’t you a bit ungrateful, my love?” he seethed, his voice a low growl. The possessive tone sent shivers down your spine, but you refused to cower under his gaze.
“I’m providing you with shelter, food, money and most of all my love.”
“It’s sick, Jungkook. This isn’t love,” you shot back, your voice unwavering. He leaned in, his face inches from yours, his grip unyielding. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.
“You’re testing my patience, Y/N. You’re mine,” he retorted quickly, not letting you go. You wanted to protest, to tell him to fuck off, and even worse things, but he was not finished.
“Think with your pretty little head, won’t you?—” you glared at him, defiance burning in your eyes.
“—you can live like a princess, you can have your dream position and on top of that a loving significant other — me.” The seconds felt like an eternity, the weight of his possessiveness pressing down on you.
“What is success for when you cannot share the joy with someone you love.” He whispered, a sinister undertone in his words. You had a feeling he’s not only talking about you. You had to think, and you had to think quickly.
“You’re asking me to give up my autonomy, Jungkook.” You shot back, your voice unwavering. He scoffed, the air heavy with tension.
“You’re too stubborn for your own good, Y/N. You need me—” He chuckled, a condescending tone lacing his voice.
“—what were you gonna do if you didn’t come to me? Hm? Your mami and papi who are disappointed in you or your fake friends who did not bat an eye to try and help you out?—” You turned your face away from him, not wanting to let his words affect you.
“—I helped you. I am here for you!” He shook you, still holding a tight grip on you.
“All I’m asking in return is you to give yourself to me.” With a defiant push, you broke free from his grasp, leaving him seething in frustration. Covering your face with your palms, you sobbed.
“Love and loyalty is not that big of a price when you think about it.”
“You promise?” you choked out through your tears. You were tired, exhausted to the bone, and this was taking a bigger toll on you than you would expect. You wanted to trick him and instead he tricked you. But you needed to play by his rules to win in the game he started. His eyes softened momentarily, a twisted form of concern flickering in his gaze.
“I promise, baby,” he murmured, his tone almost soothing. The fire has ceased for now. Or so you thought. Despite the fragile promise, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were dancing on the edge of a precipice, held by the strings he so skilfully pulled. But the stakes were high, and you couldn’t afford to falter. You had no shelter, almost no money and no one to turn to. For now. You promised yourself, this is temporary. You will find a way out of this arrangement.
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You finished your dinner. He insisted. You stripped naked while he was drawing the bath. He again insisted. The penthouse, filled with music and the fragrance of expensive candles. You allowed yourself to be led, like a puppet, your exhaustion overshadowing your instincts. As you sat there in the hot water, vulnerable, he wiped away your tears.
The water lapping against your skin is like an ominous reminder of the depths you found yourself in. Jungkook’s hands traced patterns on your back.
Jungkook, seemingly attuned to your exhaustion, wiped away your tears, the gesture carrying a strange mixture of care and control.
“It’s all gonna feel better once you accept it.” Said he, right to your ear, sending shivers down your naked body. You pressed your legs to your chest to hide yourself, a futile attempt at preserving some semblance of privacy, even though he had seen it all.
“I cannot grasp why you would do this to me, Jungkook,” you sobbed, letting him hold you against his chest.
“I did it for us, baby.” His hands firmly gripped yours now, making them stop hugging your knees. The heartthrob wanted you to relax in his presence. A laughable request considering the circumstances that led you here.
“Stop being delusional. There is no us.” You finally let him move your hands only for you to grab the frame of the bathtub and attempt to pull yourself up and away from him. He did not fancy this attempt of yours, and he let you know that by grabbing a large portion of your hair, dragging you back.
Your body slammed to his naked torso with a loud slap caused by the wet skin on skin contact. It took your breath away for a good minute.
“You didn’t seem to argue about it earlier today when my cock was hitting all-the-right-places, making you squirt, hmm?” Said the raven haired man, still holding your hair in his fist. He did not intend to hurt you, no, it was not as painful as the whole humiliating scenery and the fact you could not break free of him. He’s putting an example of what will happen once you stop behaving again. Putting you in your place — that’s what he called it.
“Matter of fact, Imma show you again that there’s us baby, until you realise it yourself.”
Trying to wiggle out of his grasp, you whimpered every time you pulled your hair back to make you stay still. And as if he changed his mind, your body was pulled out of the warm water, letting your hair go, making you fall down to the bright rug on the floor of the bathroom. Soaking it wet you looked up to him towering over your shivering physique.
“It was about time for you to show me how you are grateful to be my good girl—” he stepped closer. You did not want to look at him, knowing well what he is talking about.
“Open up baby—” you shook your head, pulling away from him and his hard member that he was holding just inches away from your face. You felt it meet your cheek and immediately retrieved yourself again which made him even more frustrated. His cock was painfully hard, and you were not cooperating.
The tattooed hand in your hair pulled you right back, his eyes bore to yours with a hard stare, and you swear they got even darker. His other hand was clutching your jaw, harder and harder until you involuntarily opened your mouth wide enough.
Taking the chance right away, he slipped his thick and hard manhood into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. He hissed at how your teeth slightly scraped his dick. You choked on it, but he was unfazed by it, continuing to thrust into your throat, making tears fall down your cheeks.
“I knew you could be my good girl.” He groaned, praising you with each of his hard thrusts into your mouth. Your breathing was shallow, and you tried to get as much air as you could. He was moaning loudly, the wet sounds of his cock slipping in and out of your mouth, covered by your saliva made him even more aroused and hungry for you.
“You just need a bit of a re-education.” He was getting lost in the pleasure your mouth was providing him, and you were deprived of the air you needed. Your hand hit his pelvis when you thought you’re going to pass out soon.
“Just a moment more, baby. I know you can take it.” He said through gritted teeth. Jungkook was panting loudly, mixing it with loud moans of your name.
“Fuck, Y/N. You’re my heaven.” Your nails were scratching his abdomen, trying to break free, but his hold was too strong. You were drooling all over his cock, and your hand started to spin from the lack of oxygen and how quickly your head was bobbing.
He was getting dangerously close and his sloppy movements reflected that. He managed to pull one last thrust before he was cumming down your throat. He was letting his dick soften, pressed on your tongue while the hot semen was springing out of his tip.
“Swallow.”
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The night wore on, shadows dancing on the walls as you lay there, pressed to his chest, his hand limply laying on your hip, contemplating the surreal turn you took.
If anything arose in you during the intercourse you wish you would wipe out of your mind, it was a determination to break free from the suffocating grasp of the penthouse.
Jungkook laid beside you, his breathing steady, a façade of tranquillity painted on his features. As he drifted into a seemingly serene slumber, you waited for the right moment to seize the opportunity.
When you were certain he was deeply asleep, you carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, a shiver running down your spine as you tiptoed through the room.
The moon cast a pale glow through the sheer curtains, guiding your movements as you tiptoed across the room. Your hand grasped the cold doorknob, the soft creaking of the door threatened to betray your escape. Your body frozen in time, your pupils shaking, fearing what happens if he wakes up. You wait a minute to make sure he is not coming to drag you back before you open the door in one swift movement.
You rethought the tasks you listed in your plan. Find the portfolio and get the fuck out as quick as possible. Everything else is replaceable for you. The mindset that the portfolio is the only key to all your problems, remained.
The adrenaline surged through your veins, the pulse of your heart echoing in the quiet hallway you walked through to get to the front of the penthouse.
He never took you upstairs, therefore you assumed that’s where he must’ve hidden it.
You approached the staircase, the carpet soft beneath your feet. The air seemed to grow heavier with every ascending step. The possibility of him waking up was not zero.
As you reached the upper level, you noticed the subtle shift in the ambiance. The hallway, adorned with pieces of art that whispered tales of luxury, and all his awards he won during his career, displayed to show his success. You passed several open doors, a home recording studio in one of them, be ridden of what you were looking for.
The hallway led you towards a set of double doors. That must be it. The doors creaked open, your gaze scanning for any sign of your portfolio. Your eyes flickering between the meticulously arranged accolades and the sprawling desk. He must be using this room as his office.
The seconds stretched into minutes, the urgency escalating with each passing heartbeat. You began with the drawers of the glass table, trying to be as quiet as possible. You cannot afford to cause commotion.
Anxiety wrapped around you, a vice tightening with every passing moment. You went through the library too, looked under every surface, you could not find it.
With a deep breath, you steadied yourself. There must be another place he could have hidden it. Your eyes fell upon the stack of papers, leaning your head to the side you examined the tabloid underneath with your face on it.
You fished it out in mere seconds, eyeing it unbelievably. If you were on the cover of a tabloid you would for sure know that. But you were not aware that your face appeared in Star magazine, right beside Jungkook. “Jungkook’s Mysterious Muse Revealed!” the headline screamed at you.
It was not only you after all. Society has convinced Jungkook that you two are sort of an item. A clandestine affair, a narrative spun by the society, linking your name with Jungkook’s in a tale of intrigue.
It was dated right when you started working on Klein’s campaign, back in April. It is almost the end of November now, and this is the first time you’re seeing this. You couldn’t fathom how deeply the web had been woven around you. The urgency of the situation intensified, and you combed through every conceivable hiding spot.
A sudden noise from downstairs snapped your attention. Fear gripped you, and your heart raced. Did he wake up? The urgency of the situation intensified, and you felt the weight of the clock ticking against you.
You sobbed and when you went to rub your eyes, they fell upon the other room diagonally from the one you were searching now. The doors were slightly ajar and you could see soft shades of colours within. In a last-ditch effort you marched towards it.
But ever stepping inside you regretted. The whole scenery that was revealed once you opened the door swiftly caught your breath in your throat.
The soft shades of colours painted a haunting picture—a baby room, unfinished and untouched by time. The sight startled you, sending a shiver down your spine. This can’t be.
“No..” You whispered to yourself, panicking. Your hands found their place in your hair. He is one delusional man. There is no other explanation, he is sick in the head if he thinks he is going to baby trap you.
A sense of dread overwhelmed you, and in your shock, you stumbled over something on the floor, hitting your head in the process. You groaned from the pain, forgetting that this commotion must have been loud enough for Jungkook to wake up.
As you rolled to the side, your eyes widened in disbelief. The portfolio was taped to the bottom of a cabinet. Without a second thought, you ripped it free, the sound echoing in the quiet room.
The rain outside intensified, a symphony of droplets against the windows. With the portfolio clutched in your hands, you ran down the stairs, right to the front door you prayed would not be locked. Would he be that careless? Yes. The degree of his mental instability was enough for him to believe that you are his and you would not think of running. He cut off every single option you had.
First, by making sure that your former employer would get to know you’re planning to leave the brand, enough for them to let you go. Second, he successfully obtained your portfolio that you were stupid enough to not make a copy of, which resulted in not meeting the deadline with Guess and losing that job opportunity too.
Third, he did not expect you to not stay the first you went to his penthouse but he was determined to go to extremes. So, every single fashion brand that had department stores in New York and in the rest of the world, backlisted you. No job application you sent, assistant buyer, a visibly lower position to what you had at Klein, would be turned down.
Fourth, make sure your landlord has already a tenant replacing you, ready to pay double for your apartment if they can move in as soon as possible.
That you’re alienated from your parents played his cards right and he never wished anything bad upon someone else, but how he thanked God that your friends have either too small apartments for another person to live in or they were struggling even more than you were. But lucky for you. He was right there, waiting for your call.
The handle felt too cold in your hand once you pushed the front door open merging the distance to the elevators, you were madly pushing the down button.
The seconds felt like an eternity as you waited for the elevator. Your breaths came in short, erratic bursts, mirroring the frenetic pace of your heart. Quickly stepping inside the metal box you heard it.
“Y/N?!” Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. His eyes momentarily locked with yours. You were clutching your portfolio to your chest, the other hand pressing the close button, praying it will close faster.
He must have heard you running down the stairs, or perhaps when you tripped and fell. You even forgot that you’ve hurt yourself. The adrenaline was overshadowing the pain.
“Come back right now!” He was mad, that much you could tell.
With the last determined push, you closed the door on him, severing the visual link between you. Letting out a relieving breath, you knew that this is far from being over. The elevator descended, carrying you away from the penthouse.
He cannot make it all the way down in time before you’ll disappear from the area. You prayed, he would not.
The lobby welcomed you as the doors opened, the room blurred as you stormed towards the exit, your heart pounding in rhythm with the rain. You burst into the rain-soaked night. Clutching the book tightly, a surge of triumph coursed through your veins.
The cold drops pelted against your skin. The relentless downpour soaking your clothes and hair. Running towards the street, you waved at the cars, hoping a taxi would stop.
It took a minute for some yellow car to appear at the curb, not wasting time, you ran towards it.
A smile appeared on your face after a long time. You did not know where you’re going, nor what you’re going to do next but Jungkook was never supposed to be your option and now you got the chance to choose differently or not? This is your second chance, and you’re willing to take it.
Your hand touched the handle of the yellow vehicle, opening the door and planning to leap inside as quickly as possible.
A strong tattooed hand closed abruptly. You gulped down an enormous lump in your throat, almost not breathing. How could this happen? It was mere minutes. Did he run the stairs? Did you take too long to catch a cab? Should you just run as far as possible?
Every single thing you could have done differently would not change the outcome it seems. And every single thing worked out in his favour, again.
His palm pressed on the taxi door firm, you could not open it anymore nor he would let you hop in the front seat. Your heart pounded in your chest, the tension and fear to face him was killing you. The portfolio now felt like a burden, if you make peace with losing it and your career, would you avoid this?
You could feel his eyes burning holes to the back of your head.
“I will not go back.” You said, voice resolute, but inside you were shaking. You could feel his hot breath on your cold skin, similarly you could feel his body pressing to your back. Once he reached your ear, you felt his lips mere inches from it, whispering.
“You will.”
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I N T E R L O G U E 
Jungkook settled into the plush leather chair after he finished carefully unpacking all your belongings, believing he is helping you to settle down. His fingers deftly dialled his mother’s number. As the phone rang, he gazed out over the city lights sprawling beneath him, a realm he had conquered with ruthless determination.
His new song, obviously written about you, was an enormous hit, granting him another Grammy nomination. But what was his success for when he did not have his love to share it with?
He smiled to himself, he got you. After long months of chasing you, then giving you the space you needed to realise he is your best shot in this world, you’re finally where you belong. Next to him.
The familiar voice of his mother greeted him, warm and comforting.
“Eomma—” Jungkook said, his tone affectionate.
“Jungkook, dear! How is my baby?” His mother’s voice held a blend of joy and concern.
“I’m doing well, Eomma. I have some news to share,” he said, his eyes glancing toward the bedroom where Y/N lay, unaware of the conversation taking place.
“Oh? Do tell,” his mother replied, anticipation evident in her voice. Jungkook leaned back, a subtle smile playing on his lips.
“Y/N moved in.” His mother’s delight was palpable through the phone. Jungkook let her know the very moment he stepped into your office that he is very much interested in you. That he met the special one he wants to grow old with.
As he spoke, he subtly weaved a narrative of love and destiny, carefully crafting the tale of their supposed connection. His mother listened attentively, hanging onto every word.
“Are you going to propose over Christmas like you wanted, Kookie?” His mother gasped with excitement. Jungkook glanced at the bedroom once more, satisfaction settling within him. The diamond ring well hidden deep inside of the closet. But that’s given and final in his mind, there’s something more he selfishly wants. Not only will it make sure you won’t be able to leave him any more, it will give you reason to grow to love him back. After all, he would be the only person who you can grow old with.
“We’re trying for a baby, Eomma.”
.
.
.
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