#beautiful and kind Jimin always is

[ki-yomii]

like i do | jjk

➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader

➥ word count | 3.2k

➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, pet names, mild praise kink, squirting, standing missionary, finger fucking, thigh riding, established relationship, angst w/ a happy ending, possessive!jk, jealous!jk, mentions of infidelity, trust issues

➥ summary | request - Jk being a jealous husband, angst and smuttttt 🥹💘

➥ notes | for lovely anon. hope you enjoy 💚 un-edited, i'll come back and fix any mistakes later. also poor jimin. i love him but i always seem to make him suffer lol.

💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚

Eavesdropping.

Whether it was a stray conversation in a shop, or lurking around corners to see what others really thought of you, everyone’s done it at some point.

Now, it’s a habit Jungkook tries not to encourage - much preferring upfront interactions and direct conversations - but that isn’t to say he’s never eavesdropped before.

But the problem with listening in on conversations you’re not supposed to be is you run the risk of hearing something you wish you didn’t.

And while it wasn’t intentional by any means - he respects you too much to spy, even if the urge is there - he learns this lesson the hard way.

The first time it happens, he’s in the kitchen refilling his cup of iced coffee. There’s a squeal of surprise followed by a lighthearted giggle, the sound of shuffling limbs and a low grunt.

Everything in him freezes at the sound of your delight, gut churning.

He always works so damn hard to pull the laughter from the depths of your throat. And it stings that Jimin - his friend, his brother’s attempts are effortless.

It’s something so simple, and yet the effect it’s having on him is undeniable as Jungkook white-knuckles the handle of his mug and grits his teeth.

His jaw nearly cracks in two when he hears the softly murmured greeting, “It’s good to see you, baby.”

And Jungkook knows, okay.

He knows there’s nothing romantic between the two of you.

If anything, you’re too alike. Twin flames of the platonic variety. Not only would it never work out, but you both feel nothing but familial towards one another.

For fuck’s sake, Jimin was there when Jungkook proposed. Was the one to encourage it, in fact. Has been nothing but supportive about your relationship even when others disagreed.

However, knowing something doesn’t dampen the spark of jealousy.

Nor does it soothe the sharp flash of hurt threatening to steal the breath from his lungs.

Jimin has always been affectionate with you, and he’s always a touch too flirtatious. It’s a part of who he is, and it’s one Jungkook would never ask him to dim. Jimin spent far too long hiding, pretending, stifling himself for other’s comfort.

And Jungkook loves him as he is, encourages him to be his beautiful, authentic self no matter what. Expect maybe when it comes to his wife… for reasons he’s unwilling to examine.

All schoolyard flirtations aside, what bothers Jungkook most are the pet names. He can put aside his petty jealousy because he knows its unfounded.

What’s harder is dismissing the use of that little four-letter word: baby. 

It’s supposed to be his way of telling you how much he loves you. Special, intimate. A stand-in for the four-word phrase he whispers into the silk of your skin, tattoos into your heart with his lips.

The realization he’s sharing a part of you he thought all his own sits bitter on the back of his tongue, an acid burn eating through his throat until he can’t find the words.

When you respond in kind with a soft, tender call a piece of him shrivels.

Standing in the kitchen adrift and lovelorn, Jungkook’s left with an empty longing he can’t name and no where to place it.

You weren’t together for more than six months before he proposed, knowing you were the one for him by the second date.

Maybe he moved too fast, was too receptive?

Growing up, he’d always been eager to move onto the next big thing, ready to jump head first. Some said that would come back to bite him in the ass. Was this the day?

Perhaps you regret saying yes so soon. Jungkook knows he’s not like other people. They need time to settle into their feelings like a house settling old wooden bones.

The last thing he wants is to make you feel trapped, suffocated under the weight of all his clingy, needy problems.

So he smothers the discomfort and walks into the living room. He shoots you a smile and inclines his head towards Jimin.

Thoroughly ignores the pulse of pain when he sees how cozy the two of you look cuddled up on the couch, legs tangled together with Bam at your feet.

That should be me.

You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

He can’t lose you.

It’s there he silently vows to be less intense, less attached. Does his best to keep his hands to himself even though he wants to reach across the space between your bodies, and tug you into the cradle of his chest.

Bam picks his head up, cocking his ear to the side when Jungkook winces as Jimin reaches out to tug a lock of your hair, smirking around another purred baby.

Thankfully no one else but the dog notices his moment of weakness or the tension cutting through his shoulders.

Staring at his reflection, Jungkook tucks a lock of hair behind his ear and fiddles with his tie. The three-piece fits like a glove yet he’s never felt more uncomfortable.

He longs for soft cotton and baggy loungewear but tonight is important.

It’s your first year anniversary.

He’s had this night planned out months in advance; pulled all the strings needed to secure a reservation at one of the best five-stars in Gangnam.

You’ve been looking forward to it all week, and your excitement is infectious.

Only Jungkook’s mood sours as soon as he turns the corner to find you on the couch with company, dolled up and radiant. Jimin’s beside you, one leg crossed over the other and swirling a half-empty wine glass.

He says something too low for Jungkook to hear.

“Jimin!” You titter behind your hand, the flash of the jewels on your nails catching the light. “Sto-op! You nasty little freak.”

“What’re you doing here?”

Jungkook doesn’t mean to snap but the inner turmoil spills over before he can shove it down.

Your eyes lose some of their softness, the happiness fizzling from your expression like champagne bubbles. Mouth pinching in at the corners, you narrow your eyes.

A lump grows in his throat.

“What’s got you so pissy, Kook?” you ask.

Jimin clears his throat, averting his gaze to the side as he mindlessly plays with the stem of the glass.

The frosty look Jungkook shoots him withers under your pointed glare. Shoulders sagging, he runs his fingers through his hair, unable to care about how much he’s fucking up the style. 

“Sorry Jimin, I… ahem. Anyway, are you gonna be ready to go soon?”

“Mhm, just let me finish up here,” you trail off, motioning to the last few sips of your own wine. “We’ve still got some time before we have to leave anyway.”

Before Jungkook can respond, Jimin cuts in while twining an arm over your bare shoulders, cheek pressed sweetly to yours, “You can’t rush perfection, Kookie. Isn’t that right, pretty baby?”

It’s no surprise your anniversary ends in disaster; a fight so vicious it has you fleeing with an overnight bag, refusing to look at Jungkook let alone speak to him no matter how much he begs you to stay.

Leaving him alone in an apartment ringing with your absence, terrified this is the beginning of the end and thoroughly convinced he’s the worst fucking husband ever.

It’s been several days of radio silence.

No amount of texting or calling gets you to answer. And it’s starting to get to him, going out of his mind with worry, with guilt. If only he hadn’t said this, that, and the other.

If only you’d stayed.

Now, everywhere he turns, Jungkook’s forced to face the jealousy growning like a weed in his heart. And every day it gets worse; a stone crushing his lungs, a bottomless pit curdling his stomach.

He doesn’t know where you are exactly, but his suspicions are proven correct when he nearly busts down the door to Jimin’s apartment only to have you invite him inside, stony-faced and silent.

The quiet doesn’t last, broken by the awkward clearing of his throat as he avoids your stare.

“What are we even doing?” he asks.

Your eyebrows shoot towards your hairline.

There are bags under your eyes and heavy lines around your mouth. You look like you haven’t slept well. Jungkook’s gut clenches, bile bubbling up the back of his throat.

It’s all my fault.

“I’m not sure what you mean, Kook.”

“Please.” He refuses to acknowledge the plea for what it is. “I can’t - I can’t do this anymore.” His voice breaks, cracks in two, tears stopping up his tongue. “I need to know.”

Your eyes flash with confusion. “Baby?” You step closer, hand outstretched and shoulders relaxing. “What are you talking about?”

His intentions are pure, honest.

But months of simmering anger, of doubting everything about himself (again), of resenting the fact he resents you, resents Jimin at all, bubbles to the surface.

He’s not proud of it, but Jungkook explodes; a match set to gunpowder.

“I’m talking about you and Jimin!”

“Me,” you ask, blinking owlishly, “-- and Jimin?”

Jungkook smiles, sharp and unpleasant. Bitter and disappointed. Grief makes him mean, nasty. “Yeah, you and Jimin. Do you think I’m stupid - were you just gonna keep fucking around behind my back?” 

“Woah, pump the breaks! What the hell are--”

“Don’t even try to deny it.”

His eyes glint like shards of black ice, cool and assessing as he stares at you. Numb to the concern in your gaze, the purse of your lips. He’s slipping - he knows he’s slipping. Can feel the grief stricken rage pressing in at the corners of his mind.

The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, and yet he’s helpless to stop the words pouring from his mouth. “Did you like watching me make a fool of myself?”

You sneer, arms crossed over your chest so hard it looks like it hurts, “You’re doing that all on your own, Jungkook. I think you need to leave.”

“No, no, come on. I want to know. Why did you marry me if you don’t even want me, huh?”

Stalking closer, Jungkook corners you against the counter.

The smooth glide of his body is reminiscent of a large jungle cat, purely predatory. The uncomfortable thrill of it reflects through your gaze, the clench of your thighs.

Dark satisfaction curls low in his belly.

He asks, “Did he fuck you better, make you scream his name?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about but you’re being a fucking pig,” you say, shoving his shoulder towards the door. “Now I really think it’s time for you to leave. Come back when you’re not being stupid.”

Strong fingers clamp down around your wrist, and Jungkook tugs you into his chest. His free arm curls around your waist, pinning you to his front. The heat of your body can’t drive away the sudden cold washing over him.

“Let go-”

“No.” He watches as any retort dies on your tongue, your eyes meeting his head on for the first time. Whatever you see hooks in, refusing to let go. “I’m not letting you go.”

Shivering, you try to tug your arm free, “Jungkook, please. You’re starting to scare me.”

In lieu of a response, Jungkook dips his head, and inhales the scent of your hair. Dragging his nose down the length of your neck as the familiar perfume floods his lungs. Soothes the prowling beast caged in his chest.

A rumble of satisfaction vibrates through him into you, your nipples stiffening against him.

Jungkook sighs, “You always smell so good, baby.”

The tension threaded through your frame releases, your edges softening until you rest against him fully. Shivers race down his spine when your breath tickles his ear.

You call to him softly.

He hums, nuzzling into the side of your head, “Mhm?”

“Can you let me go now? Promise I won’t go anywhere.”

Jungkook pulls back to look at you for several long seconds. Unlatching his fingers, he watches as you flex your wrist. Then reaches up to tenderly curl the digits around your throat, transfixed by the sight.

A hook of arousal sinks into his stomach.

Yanks hard when you gasp at the push of his thick thigh against your pussy, your whine when he flexes the muscle. With a soft cry, you sag into his body while your hands fly up to plant themselves on his biceps.

“K-Kook!”

“Mm, that’s it.”

The bubble of emotions boiling under the surface of his skin is at odds with the satisfaction coiling in his belly, the interested twitch of his cock.

Jungkook rolls his thigh and works you along the length of it. The heat of you burns through the cotton of his lounge pants, so warm and soft and wet.

"Don't--" your protest trails off, smothered by your teeth as your eyes flutter in pleasure. "Hn!"

Shit, he wants to bury himself so deep inside you’ll never forget the stretch. Ruin you so good with his cock you won’t dream of anyone else ever again. He’d make you his and his alone.

Fingers tightening around your neck, Jungkook murmurs, “Let me hear you, baby.”

Unsuccessfully trying to ignore how good the friction is, you shake your head in denial. But there’s no hiding how turned on you’re getting, panties sticky and thighs clamping around his.

You’re absolutely soaked, evidenced by the growing dark patch on his leg as he grinds you into a sloppy mess.

“W-We can’t, Jimin’s h-home.”

Mentioning the other man is a mistake, and you know that.

Jungkook sees the realization light up in your eyes seconds after he tenses, rutting up against you harshly. The bulge of his cock digs into the dip of your hip, throbbing in time with the labored heaves of his chest. 

His kneecap catches, the sharp ridge smashing into your swollen clit. Your mouth drops open, and Jungkook slaps a hand over your face before the wail escapes.

He knows he’s being rough, but the tears in your eyes soothe some of the hurt. And honestly, he can’t bring himself to care overmuch, especially when your hips jerk against his.

“Better be quiet. We don’t want Jimin to hear us,” Jungkook snarls, “after all, what would he think if he saw how bad you’re gagging for your husband’s dick?”

Your indignant response is cut off by another muffled whine, his teeth sinking into the corner of your jaw.

A weak spot of yours - Jungkook abuses it to his advantage. Swiping his tongue through the layer of sweat that clings to your skin, the salt bursting across his tongue.

He groans.

“I don’t give a fuck what you or Jimin think.” His breath puffs warm and moist over your ear, voice whiskey rough when Jungkook says, “You married me. You’re mine, baby, and I don’t share.”

Relocating, his hand releases your throat and finds your hips. He slips under the mid-thigh hem of your oversized nightshirt, and snaps the waistband of your panties with a firm tug.

Pulling the fabric free from between your legs, he tucks the ruined fabric into his back pocket as a souvenir. 

“K-Kook,” you say, voice warbling.

He hums, eyes glittering dangerously as his fingers brush over the top of your slit. Your clit jumps beneath the pad of his finger, swollen and throbbing.

When you hiss low between your teeth, he smirks, and bullies the little nub with rough circles until your hips shift from side to side.

“Ah, shit, baby. Can you hear how sloppy your pussy is?”

Jungkook dips his fingers between your folds, playing with your gummy walls as he gathers your slick, teasing the rim of your entrance. The filthy squelches echo out into the otherwise silent apartment.

He preens, chest puffing up with pride, and says, “He can’t make you feel the way I do. Can he?”

Without warning, he slides two fingers deep inside to the third knuckle. Chuckles when you burrow your face into his shoulder, your nails dragging raised lines of heat down his arms as your walls give, fluttering around his thick digits as you adjust to the stretch.

“Mm, you always take me so well, baby.”

You clench at the praise, and Jungkook pumps his fingers in reward, curling up to massage at the spongy patch of your g-spot. You whine, head tossed back and thighs shaking around his hand.

Pain shoots through the base of Jungkook’s spine, and biting back a curse, he reaches down to adjust his cock from where its trapped against you, swollen and leaking.

“Yeah, you’re such a good girl.”

“Please,” you whine before mumbling something else.

Jungkook’s not sure what it is, but figures it’s not all that important when your eyes roll back into your head and your hips twitch.

You start to bear down on his fingers, walls tensing and releasing.

“Gonna cum?” Jungkook nips at your bottom lip, panting into your mouth and sharing breath as his eyes bore into yours. “Fuck! Do it. Wanna feel you cum all over my hand.”

God, you look so good like this; eyes teary and brows crinkled, sweat-slick and mouth slack. A sight he never wants to be without. His sweet girl, his baby, his wife.

“Yeah, that’s it.” His fingers curl and pulse, pet and stretch. “Now open those pretty eyes.”

A hand curls around your jaw, tugs at your chin.

“Look at me,” Jungkook breathes.

Please.

He watches, greedy, as your lashes flutter, the lids weighted down by pleasure. Eventually, you manage to crack them open, and he ruts forward in response. His groan vibrates his lips as they smash into yours in a violent kiss. 

You pull away with a gasp, slick dripping down your shaky knees. “I can’t - hnggg - fuck, Kook!”

“Tell me who you belong to.”

He’s unforgiving in his demands, a cold fire burning in the depths of his eyes. His cock throbs, his hips trembling with restraint as he stops himself from rutting to completion against you.

His heart hammers against his ribs, and his stomach swoops.

The answer will either make or break him.

Anticipation floods the room with tension; hovering in the air like a word about to be spoken.

“Tell me.”

“I -- you, Kook, I’ve always belonged to you,” you say, clenching down around him. “Please.”

Capturing you with his gaze, Jungkook hooks a thumb into the corner of your mouth. All the hurt, all the doubts, all the rage bleed out of him like water tossed over the embers of a campfire.

Leaving behind the single-minded desire to give you what you want. What you deserve. Because you’re his and the only thing he wants to do is take care of you.

Love you like you deserve to be.

Like only he knows how to.

The taste of your skin is sharp and bright when his tongue flicks against yours, and he hisses into the plush of your mouth, “Cum.”

Keening, your pussy throbs once, twice. Your belly contracts. And then you’re gushing wetly, a warm flood of slick soaking the palm of Jungkook’s hand, dripping down to puddle on the kitchen tile. Your walls ripple, muscles spasming as you shake apart in his arms.

Jungkook holds you through it, soothing the aftershocks as you slump into him - a marionette with its strings cut. You’re cotton soft, cloudy. Head lolling on his shoulder when you look up at his profile with hazy eyes.

“Show off,” you slur when you catch the sight of his satisfied smirk, the puff of his chest as he stares at something behind you. “Can’t believe you made me cum all over Jimin’s kitchen floor.”

The sound of a choked-off, slightly hysterical laugh comes from the entryway, “Oh, I can. Just glad to see you guys finally made up. Now I’m gonna go wash my eyes with bleach.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook imagine

[peachypinkygloss]

dior girl ✰ park jimin

Park Jimin is one of a kind. When he wants something, he gets it, no matter how hard it can be. He's not scared to get his hands dirty. If he had any morals, maybe he'd consider his obsession with you getting out of hands. But this man has absolutely no morals.

୨୧ pairing: designer!jimin x model/fem!reader

୨୧ genre: strangers to lovers, age gap (21 & 38), smut, slight angst

୨୧ word count: 8.1k

୨୧ warnings: unrealistic depiction of the fashion industry, alcohol consumption & mention of drugs use, manipulation & corruption, jimin isn't a good person (especially not to oc lol <3), violent sexual thoughts, jimin's a sadist (my fav headcannon :D), heavy dom/sub dynamics, hard dom!jimin, unprotected vaginal & anal sex, anal play (use of a buttplug), my new headcannon: jimin likes giving anal, dacryphilia, praising & degradation, oral sex (m), face fucking, aftercare ig because yes jimin's a sadist but he still has a heart.

a.n.: yup so idk if you guys were expecting that... but i did say none of the characters were ethical lmfao so 🤷🏻‍♀️ i really, really hope you like the first part, i've worked hard on it even though it's not super long. so please, reblog and tell me what you thought about it! <3 as always, don't like, don't read.

[dior girl moodboard] ["older" masterlist]

His studio is his sanctuary. It's the only place in the world he can spend hours in without even noticing the moon setting or the sun rising. In his studio it feels like the time doesn't exist or that it's just a futile detail that doesn't have much importance.

When he's creating a piece, nothing around him matters. The only things he's willing to give attention to are the placements of the needles on the fabric, the little lines that form the pattern of the clothing, and the way his scissors cut through the satin material of the dress he's designing.

He's thought about this design for so long and he finally got the opportunity to make it. He's thought about the colours of the dress and also of the seam, about the length of the hem and the sleeves, how deep the neckline should be and if lace would be suitable.

He doesn't even recall how many sketches he's made of the dress. At some point it was consuming his entire mind, this dress the only design he could draw and think of.

Now that he's finally creating it, he has the feeling that it's going to be the best piece he's ever made. He already sees everyone talking about it, saying how much of a genius Park Jimin is. It's going to be the design of the year — of the century.

He still misses something, though, and it might be the most important part of the design. He needs a model, the perfect body to wear his piece and present it to the fashion world.

It can't be anybody, it must be someone who's confident, who always has their head up and who radiates elegance and sports a unique beauty.

Jimin still hasn't found this person. He constantly searches for them, but never finds them or when he thinks that he has, he discovers flaws he cannot unseen.

All the Dior models are great, but not enough. They don't spark anything in Jimin when he watches them strode down the catwalk. He's checked upon the apprentices and the newer models the company has hired, but he saw no one extraordinary.

Until today.

He hears steps against the wooden floor of his studio, entering the place without knocking. "Ah, there he is!" A manly voice exclaims, Jimin immediately recognizes it as his friend's, Sungwoon. "I have someone to introduce you."

Jimin raises his gaze up from his working table and looks at Sungwoon who's accompanied by a beautiful, young woman. He's then suddenly interested, contrary to usual where he doesn't really care about the many girls Sungwoon brings, claiming each one as the new phenomenon of the fashion industry.

When Jimin turns around, he eyes you up and down, barely glimpsing in Sungwoon's way. It's all it takes, one simple glance and he knows you're the one he needs — the one he wants and has to ruin.

Sungwoon introduces you both and when your name is pronounced by the man, sounding so charming and delicate, he's certain you're the model he had been waiting for since a long time.

You seem shy, arms locked behind your back, but you stand up straight and have a polite smile drawn on your face.

"I thought maybe you'd like to get to know each other, right?" Sungwoon raises his eyebrows in Jimin's direction. "Everyone's fond of her," he smiles and pats your back, encouraging you to speak up.

"Thanks," you smile back at Sungwoon before glancing back at Jimin who still hasn't looked away from you. "I've been a big fan of your work since I was a little kid, Mr. Park. You've inspired me to become a model."

The way you say his name has his cock twitching in his pants, filthy thoughts of him spanking your butt while you cry his name invading his mind.

He can sense your vulnerability, your willingness to submit. Who would he be to deny you that? Him, who is so eager to dominate the ones he's attracted to, to break but also repair them.

He knows it when someone's fragile, hiding their weaknesses under fake confidence. He doesn't know you, but he recognizes the pattern almost instantly. What can be broken can also be repaired and you're asking him to break you.

"I'm glad to hear that," Jimin says politely, a slight smile tugging on his lips. He's not the type to smile — stretch the corner of his mouth upward to imitate the person in front of him, he finds it useless. But for you, he'll do it, just so you trust him because you're so desperate to give yourself to the opposite sex.

"Park, you were wondering who'd be part of the fall show this year," Sungwoon begins, looking at you like you're the most irradiant ruby in the world. "Well, you have her in front of you." You giggle softly at the man's words, nodding your head at him and then looking at Jimin as if waiting for some praises.

Jimin faintly smiles, seeing your eyes glimmering and he curses himself for not finding you first. You'd have been his by now, his to praise, to kiss, to fuck, to destroy. But he swears, if he happens to break you, he'll gratefully keep you safe close to him.

๑♡՞

T H E N

"Careful," Jimin softly says as he catches you up from falling on the floor. You let out a high pitched laugh, as if all of this is a big joke, and push him back with a hand on his chest.

"I'm fine," you answer, shrugging him off with a flip of your hand. You stagger from left to right, leaning against the wall when you almost fall a second time. You laugh it off again, halting your steps.

Jimin looks at you with a cringe expression, eyeing the people behind, sporting worried looks on their faces.

You all went out after the show; models, designers, directors, stylists... everyone. It wasn't your plan to get drunk, Jimin knows that because you're not supposed to drink alcohol since you're on a very strict diet. A glass from time to time isn't so bad, but your consumption clearly surpassed just one glass tonight.

It's not really your fault, though. Technically yes, since you're the one who swallowed all of the glasses of wine, but you had a little help.

A little help from Jimin himself.

When you weren't looking, he poured more alcohol in your glass and to his satisfaction you've noticed nothing and gulped everything. Sure, you got a bit suspicious, wondering how you had only drank so little when you remembered swallowing more than that.

But Jimin assured you it was only your first glass, so you drank, and drank, and drank... Until you were more than tipsy.

You've received nasty looks from your colleagues, especially the other models who weren't drinking a single drop of wine, and yet, still weren't awarded with the status of the 'face of Dior'. How ironic that the drunkest girl in the room was the face of Dior and the little protégée of Mr. Park.

Years and years of training, countless sleepless nights, meals that are as nutritious as birds seed... All of the efforts in the world to have your biggest dream stolen by a model who is in the industry for less than six months.

Their rage is understandable, but Jimin couldn't care less. In fact, everything is going as planned and he can't fuck things up now. No, because if he does, all of the things he has done until now will be completely irrelevant.

"I'll... I'll bring her to our room, you can go out without us," Jimin announces, watching you sit down on the floor in the middle of the corridor.

"Will she be okay?" A stylist asks.

"Of course. I'll take care of her."

He waits for everyone to be gone before he gets you up from the floor and leads you both to your hotel room. When you're in the room, he sits you down on the bed.

You don't say anything as he takes off his jacket and loosens his tie. He crouches down in front of you to remove your heels and he does the same with his shoes, leaving them at the entry.

When he comes back, he sees you quietly crying, the features of your face contorting into a sad expression. You've slightly sobered up, harshly coming back to reality, realizing how much you've embarrassed yourself tonight.

"What did I do?" You ask, looking up at him with teary eyes. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

Jimin sits down beside you, lifting your head up with his index under your chin and his thumb over it. "There's nothing that can't be repaired," he states in a soft voice, so low it sounds like a sweet whisper — a secret, a confession only you can hear. "Right?"

You sniff, wiping your tears away. You nod your head in agreement, slightly reassured, hoping Jimin will fix your mistakes. Your foolish mistakes, done by the carefree of a twenty-one year old.

"Shh, baby, shh," he softly murmurs, cradling your head in his hands and gently laying your face against his chest. You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him tighter and tighter til suffocation.

He strokes your hair delicately, placing a sweet and warm kiss on the top of your head.

Someone as vulnerable as you contains a lot of emotions. He has to deal with them, which doesn't bother him at all. He wants you the way you are; sad and pitiful.

"Everything's going to be fine," he promises, but it's not entirely the truth. Not everything will be fine, though it'll be in the end, he thinks — he hopes.

You eventually pull away from his embrace, just enough to look at him. It seems like you're searching for something or maybe waiting for something, your eyes desperately staring at Jimin as if his simple presence will make all of your problems fly away.

You throw yourself at him and kiss him on the lips, fingers pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck. He reciprocates it, knowing you like your kisses sloppy and messy, wanting Jimin everywhere on you to remind you that he's always there.

You bring him closer, crumpling the material of his white shirt between your fists, moaning and whining as your teeth clash together at how roughly you kiss each other.

Jimin breaks your exchange first, both catching your breaths. His eyes observe you quietly as you look at him like you're still waiting for something.

"Did you do what I told you to?" He questions you, referring to your conversation of a few days when you came to his studio to try on his dress.

You were a bit stressed out, putting on the clothing like you were scared you'd rip it. He still remembers the way the satin was sliding up your body, hugging your waist and ass perfectly. He was baffled at how incredibly well it suited you as if he had made it exactly for you.

And maybe it was made for you, after all.

Because when he saw his creation on you, he knew you had to wear it for the runway. It has to be you, he'll accept no one else.

Jimin will make you walk the runway wearing his dress — the last time you'll ever step on the catwalk. After that, he'll keep you away from the rest of the world. He'll refuse anyone to see you because you're going to be his.

His forever.

"Yes," you nod your head, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Tell me what you did," Jimin softly demands, holding your chin in his hand, mouths inches away from each other.

You're too shy to say it out loud and that's why he wants you to tell him. Also to be sure you did everything correctly, but mainly because he wants to see you embarrassed.

"I prepared myself for you..." You begin, holding eye contact even though you feel your face heating up just thinking about all the things you've done per his request. "I... I used lube both on me and... the toy," you continue in a shy tone, so low Jimin wouldn't hear you if he wasn't so close.

"Where on you, sweetheart?" He interrupts, wanting each detail, each little thing you normally wouldn't have done if it wasn't for him. And all while thinking of him.

You swallow, "On my ass, Jimin," you answer in a whisper. "I stretched it out for you, using the toy like you told me," you finally admit.

"Good girl," Jimin purrs. "Let me see it then."

You proceed to strip off of your dress, now used to be nude in front of him, and slide your panties down your thighs, discarding them away on the floor.

You get back up on the mattress and position yourself on all fours close to the edge of the bed. Jimin stands up and goes behind you to have a closer look at your ass.

His veiny hands pull your cheeks apart, revealing your rim to his insatiable, sadistic eyes. You glance over your shoulder, curious of what he has in mind and what he has prepared for you.

You softly gasp when he spits and lets the globe of spit drip down between your asscheeks, rolling over your puckered hole. You clench around nothing, relieved to have his attention, to finally feel his hands on you instead of the usual touch of yours.

He sees that your ass is a bit looser than the last time he saw it, but it still clearly needs more preparation to welcome his girthy cock — though it's not like he cares that much if you're prepped enough or not.

He passes his thumb over your tight muscle, circling it and smearing his saliva over it. He wants to fuck it so bad, destroy it and do unbelievably violent things to you. Should he tonight? Should he show you his dark and evil side?

He's choked you before — smacked your ass hard til you felt your skin stings, overstimulated you to the point your orgasms were just spasms passing through your body, fucked your throat while you were drooling all over yourself, and tied your legs and wrists together to restrict your movements.

So fucking your ass can't be that bad, but the thing is Jimin wants it to be bad. He then wonders what would happen if the line is ever crossed. Would you endure it, would you defend yourself? Would you shut the fuck up and take it like you're asked to?

But you trust him so much — with all your pathetic being — and he thinks you'd let him cross any lines he desires to. He probably already has crossed multiple lines, and being the poor, sad girl that you are, you said nothing.

You truly are extraordinary.

He gives a slight slap to one of your asscheeks, groping both of them after, feeling how soft and tender your flesh is. "You did good, sweetheart," he comments in a honeyed voice that has you mewling, sounding so smooth and sweet. "How about we play with it a little?"

He lifts up a brow at you and you nod sheepishly, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. "Yes..."

"Great," he says in a low tone, running his hands one last time over your ass before going to take something from his suitcase.

"What is it?" You question, your curious eyes landing on the small object he's holding.

Jimin brings the object to you, something made of metal, the end having the shape of a cone and a pink gem placed on the top. "A gift for my princess," he replies, opening the bottle of lube he brought as well.

He applies some lube around your tight hole and on the butt plug, and carefully pushes the head of the toy in your ass. You gasp softly, feeling it slowly stretch you out, sinking in gradually as Jimin holds your cheeks apart.

"Mmh, feels good, Sir," you moan, arching your back and pushing your butt closer to Jimin.

When the plug is all the way in, the pink gem peeking out between your two globes of flesh, he smacks your other cheek, making it jiggle from the harsh hit.

"Is that so, dirty girl?" He wonders, gripping your hips and colliding his hips with your butt, sensing his big bulge pulsing under his pants. "You like it when your little ass gets stretched out?"

"I like everything you do to me," you say with a content sigh, pussy clenching around nothing as your ass gets used to the small butt plug.

Jimin genuinely thinks he can't find better than you. You were so shy in the beginning, looking like a lost puppy wherever you went. You just needed someone bigger and older to show you the way — though you were too dumb, and still are, to realize he was leading you to the wrong path.

It's not like you seem to mind, anyway.

After all, you both got what you wanted; you, male attention, someone to rely on and be protected by, and him, a woman to break and keep with him forever.

He lets go of your hips to unbuckle his belt, pulling the leather material out of the gold loop with the luxury Dior logo on it. He lets the two ends of the belt hang off, not bothering to remove it completely, and tucks the fly of his pants down.

He finally frees his cock from the confines of his boxers, springing up and slapping against his stomach, the bit of pre-cum escaping from his tip dampening his shirt.

"You're so good to me, princess," he praises as he wraps a hand around the base of his engorged cock, aching and begging to be nestled in your cute little pussy.

His head pushes at your entrance, never fully entering, only teasing your hole and stimulating all of your sensitive nerves. He watches how his cock stretches your cunt, your walls expending to receive his bulbous tip and then closing down when he pulls out.

"Sir, please, want more," you beg him, pushing your ass on him to have his dick back in you. You let out a little whimper when Jimin holds your hips in place, stopping you from wiggling your butt side to side against his thick cock.

He hums and slaps your ass harshly, your skin stinging after. "Want my cock in your needy little pussy, baby? Is that what you're crying for?" He asks, teasing even more by swiping the head of his penis between your pussy lips, a string of your arousal sticking to his angry tip.

"Yes," you say back quickly and desperately, arching your back, literally presenting yourself to Jimin. "Been so good, don't I deserve it, Sir?" You softly murmur, still looking over your shoulder to see his gaze fixated on your quivering pussy, cock head sliding up and down over your sex.

"You do..." He responds distractedly, licking his plump lips, his fingers touching the pink gem peeking out from your ass. You're always so good and obedient for him, he even wonders if you ever did something that genuinely pissed him off before.

When he really sinks in, his head passing the barrier of your sweet pussy, he groans deeply, feeling your walls deliciously enveloping his hard cock tightly.

You moan in unison as he bottoms out in you, his balls touching your wet and warm pussy. He bends his back over yours, running his hand up your spine, feeling all the little bumps of it until he reaches your head and shoves it against the mattress.

You whine when he starts pounding into you, his girth stretching you out so well, leaving you panting and moaning loudly. His other hand holds your hip against his dick, fingers digging into your skin, leaving permanent marks on your body — as well as on your mind and your soul.

He already sets a hard and rapid pace — fucking is never soft or loving with Jimin, it's violent, long, and agonizing. It's a way to be himself, the real and dark version of himself he hides in public and releases when he gets intimate with you.

You surprisingly got accustomed to it, embracing it as if it was your destiny, the reason for your existence; to be his personal slut, the little toy he likes to play rough with. And you've accepted it, like you had no other choice but to be fucked into oblivion by Jimin whenever he feels like it.

"You like that, baby? Huh?" He growls, as if you're the disgusting one for liking the way he treats you, ravished and delighted to have his girthy cock sliding against your velvety walls. "You like it when I fuck you hard like this?" He repeats and grips your hair, pushing your head against the bed covers with more strength.

You babble out something, voice caught in your throat, too out of breath to formulate a simple sentence. You then only nod, your cheek squished against the mattress, Jimin's hand still pushing down on your head.

His mouth hangs open to let out heavy breaths and his eyes are focused on your face, watching the little translucent pearls fall on your face and on the covers. Your pussy swallows all of his girth, clenching so tightly it has him groaning and saying profanities under his breath.

It's sick how it makes his cock so fucking hard, leaking so much pre-cum in you and twitching avidly by seeing you struggle to breathe. You crumple the bed sheets between your little fists, doing everything in your power to keep your ass up for Jimin and not slump down on the bed from the hard thrusts he's inflicting on you.

He snaps his hips against your ass and the entirety of his length is covered in your wetness, a white ring made of your cream circling the base of his cock.

His hand holding your head descends to your neck, enclosing it with his fingers, the coldness of his silver rings contrasting with the hotness of your sweaty skin. He squeezes a little, just a bit so you know who's in control, so you never forget Jimin controls you — that he controls your life and thoughts.

With a grip on your hair, he brings your torso up, arched back against his chest. The material of his shirt sticks to your skin, coated in a thin layer of sweat. He continues to pound into you, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy rapidly, as he holds you by the throat, lewdly licking a long stripe along the side of your face.

You shudder in desire, hair standing up on your delicate arms. "You're my little whore, aren't you, baby?" His mouth is right beside your ear as he whispers dirty things to you, his lips touching your hair, damp at the nape of your neck. "So fucking compliant... You want to please me so bad like the slut that you are," he mouths the words against your hair, cock pulsing hard in your cunt.

His free hand that doesn't have a hold around your throat slides down your body, passing over your belly and reaching your puffy clit. The sharp zipper of his pants graces the flesh just under your ass, irritating your skin and making it itchy.

You clench around him when his digits find your sensitive bud, circling it sensually and slowly, the complete opposite of his hip thrusts.

"Yes, want to please you, Jimin," you gasp, bucking your hips at the feeling of his rough fingertips on your pussy. He grunts when you address him by his name, loving how it sounds on your tongue, so sweet and timid.

He remembers the first time you moaned his name; you were sprawled across his expensive leather couch, blindfolded and hands attached together with his black tie. Intense for your first time with him, but it was also the last time he's ever been that gentle with you.

It was when his cold fingertips graced the skin of your stomach that you let out a squeak followed by his name, said in the quietest moan. He had then stopped his movements and looked at your face, an expression of distress painted over your features.

He had realized how frail and weak you actually were, needing your most important sense to be at ease. That's why he had blindfolded you, to show you how dependent you are of him, how impossible it is for you to live without him to guide you.

He pushes your jaw to the side so your lips can meet his in a feverish kiss, wet tongues mingling together, drool dripping down from the corners of your mouth. He continues to ram his cock in your now soppy and messy pussy, the sound of skin against skin resonating in the hotel room.

He traps your bottom lip between his teeth, making you whimper and close your walls around his girth once again. Your little hands grip the material of his trousers, keeping him close and holding on to something because the hard cadence of his hip thrusts push you forward, breasts bouncing up on your chest.

"Fuck," he curses and he suddenly stops, steadying his hips against your butt. You let out a whiny moan as Jimin lets go of your face and hips.

You're sad to have your pleasure ripped away from you so hastily, but you don't have the time to complain, Jimin slipping out of your cunt and pushing you down violently on the mattress.

You turn around on your back to see him unbuttoning his dress shirt and throwing it on the floor, revealing to you his beautiful chest and defined abs. He gets rid of his pants and socks after, finally removing his boxers, the only things remaining on him being his rings and the watch crowning his right wrist.

His cock glistens in your juices, more pre-cum leaking from his swollen tip and twitching avidly against his stomach. Even though him fucking you while being all dressed and you completely bare is a way to humiliate and degrade you, he also likes to be naked sometimes.

He loves skin to skin contact, how your bodies stick together because of all the sweat coating you. It's addicting, it's rougher and it creates more friction — more pain.

He doesn't mind being naked too because he knows how to dominate you either way. He doesn't find it embarrassing, on the contrary, it makes him scarier and hungrier. While you shiver without your clothes on, curled up on yourself, Jimin is imposing, his cock thick and girthy enough to split you in half.

He crawls back to you, hovering over you like a predator had caught his prey, boring his eyes into yours. You look at him in awe, always waiting patiently. You feel his cock against your thigh, thick and veiny, your hole pathetically quivering — missing his size stretching out your pussy.

He sneaks a hand between your legs and reaches the little pink gem, ready to get it out. "Take a deep breath sweetheart," Jimin instructs and you inhale deeply.

He doesn't waste a second, pulling out the butt plug out of your ass. You scrunch your eyes shut at the pain, exhaling when it's done. He carefully sets it on the nightstand, coming back to you after.

He bends your legs over your stomach and looks at your ass, just begging him to fuck it, shining with lube and arousal that leaks from your pussy. His erect cock is just so close to it and Jimin could slide right in with one movement of his hips.

He lets go of one of your legs to grip his engorged erection, a little gasp escaping your lips when he presses the head of his cock at your tight hole, threatening to sink in.

"Sir," you sigh, not sure if you're ready for that. It always burns no matter how good you prepped before and he knows that. That's why he's so tempted, that he's staring so obsessively at your rim.

Will it hurt you? Will you grip his biceps in an attempt to dissuade him? He wants to see those tears falling from your eyes again, he wants to lick them and tastes your pain. He feels more blood rush to his penis at the mere thought of hurting you.

Give him all of your pain, he'll fucking take it whole and cherish it. He wants it — he needs it. Accuse him for having a sick and twisted mind, accuse him for everything you've ever been hurt by because he'll gladly take the blame.

"I know you can take it," he says in a low tone, glancing up at your face as he applies just a bit more pressure to your ass hole. "Can you, baby?" Jimin asks, waiting for you to admit how much you want it, how badly you want him to destroy you.

"Yes..." You whisper back, a long shiver running up your spine as his eyes pierce through you.

"Yes, what? Tell me, sweetheart," he demands, and it's as if he doesn't care about your response whatsoever because the next thing he does makes you yelp in pain.

His tip has entered you, the burning sensation forcing you to scrunch your eyes shut, your instinct thinking it'll protect you.

"Yes, I- I can..." you stutter and as expected, you dig your nails in the flesh of his biceps — only fair to hurt him in return. "I can take your cock in my ass..."

You take a sharp breath, eyes slowly opening, all watery and painful. Jimin groans at that, stuffing more of himself in your hole. "Good girl," he praises, voice raspy, ending with a deep grunt.

He stretches you out completely, his dick in no comparison to the toys you've used to prepare yourself. You open your mouth as he pushes himself in gradually, tears streaming down your face when you blink.

The tears roll down the side of your face and Jimin can't help but be turned on, leaning in to kiss your face and collect some of your tears, tasting the saltiness of them on his tongue.

"Jimin...!" You look at him with the saddest and most hurtful gaze, tears rolling down your face. "It burns," you add in a quiet voice, now scratching his back, leaving long red trails on his skin.

"I know, baby, I know," he softly murmurs in your ear, a husky moan leaving his mouth when he's completely nestled in you, balls touching your ass. "You're so tight, fuck," he sucks air through his teeth, not moving until he estimates he's waited long enough.

He gives warm and wet kisses to your neck, descending to your collarbones and groping your breasts, slowly starting to move his hips. You lock your legs behind his back, wanting him as close to you as possible despite the pain he's inflicting on you.

He loves knowing it hurts you because it makes it more pleasurable to him somehow. The pain will go away soon anyway, that's why he doesn't bother to stop or slow down. You have to get used to the feeling first.

He wouldn't go too far to hurt you. The choking, the hair pulling, the smacks... He keeps it for the bedroom, but he won't lie that there's a part of him that wants to ruin your life, ruin everything you've accomplished so far just so he can see those sad eyes of yours and hear you ask him for help out of desperation.

It's not even sexual, he just wants to break you, that's all he desires. Though your life is something he wants to destroy, it's more of a way to have you dependant on him after. If your career is no longer successful, your solution is Jimin because he's the only person in your life capable of taking care of you both emotionally and physically.

His teeth chew on the tender skin of your neck while his hand travels all over your body, many veins popping out along his strong arm. The cool sensation of his rings on your stomach makes you shiver, his finger gently circling your clit to make the pain more bearable.

His cock slides in your hole back and forth, your ass slowly but surely taking the size of girth. Many curses leave Jimin's mouth, your ass probably the best he's ever fucked. You feel so good around him, you're tight, but you loosen easily, making it so, so pleasurable for him.

His hand that was roaming over your body comes to close around your throat and he turns his head to your side, lips brushing over your temple. "Yeah, just like that, baby," he mutters under his breath, his nose pressing down on your hair as he murmurs the words to you. "Just like that..."

A choked moan is all you can respond, eyes rolling back in your skull as Jimin splits your ass open, fucking his thick cock into you. His hot breath hits the side of your face, his chest heaving rapidly while you claw at his back, white scratches appearing on his skin.

He sweetly kisses your temple as he pounds into you, not tightening his hand around your throat, just holding you in place — always letting you know that he is always in control.

Your tits slightly bounce up and down on your chest, little whines coming out of you each time Jimin bottoms out. It starts feeling good for you — really good — and you think that this pleasure is totally worth a bit of pain at the beginning.

You grip the hair at the nape of his neck and bring him in for a kiss. He accepts it, kissing you back as if he wants to possess your whole mouth, biting and licking your lips. You moan into his mouth, twisting his hair between your fist and sinking your nails into the flesh of his back.

He backs away from you a little, his plump lips glistening in both of your saliva, and places his two palms on your boobs. He feels your perky nipples under his hands, just loving how plushy your breasts are, fitting perfectly in his palms.

He keeps thrusting in you as he gropes your tits and you bring your hands over his, looking into each other's eyes. He lowly groans, holding eye-contact with you.

You feel his veins under your palms, your pussy clenching around nothing but air while you run your hands all over his arms. You enjoy the sensations of his pulsing veins under your small fingers as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, staring into Jimin's dark eyes.

"Jimin..." You moan his name, throwing your head back and closing your eyes, just enjoying the feeling of his hard cock entering and exiting your tight hole. Jimin takes the opportunity to smooch your neck again as you expose it to him, his full lips delicately pressing down on your throat. "I love it," you sigh pleasantly.

He hums, the sound coming deep from his throat. He wants to hurt you, yes, but he likes it even more when you love the pain. He just knew you were exactly like him when he first saw you. He had the feeling that you needed someone like him, someone that'd push you to your limits and make you discover a new type of pleasure.

And he was right because there's not one time where you told him to stop.

"My dirty girl," he purrs in response, bringing his lips up to your jaw. He slowly rolls your nipples between his fingertips, pinching and pulling on them. "You're stupid, but so, so good for me, baby," he groans in your ear, gritting his teeth as he feels his balls tightening.

He slowly halts his hips movements, letting out heavy breaths as he eventually pulls out of you. You gasp when he does so, already missing his cock stretching out your ass.

You're both trying to catch your breaths, Jimin raising himself up from you and getting out of the bed. His erection stands tall against his stomach, bouncing up as he walks to the front of the bed.

You watch him getting away until he orders you to follow him. "Come here," he says softly and you don't make him wait. "On your knees," Jimin commands when you're facing him, sinking down to your knees after.

He places a hand behind your head and the other around the base of his dick, guiding the head of his cock toward your lips as he pushes down on your head.

"Here, baby," he instructs in a low voice. "Take it in your mouth." You part your lips to welcome Jimin's length, his bulbous tip shining in pre-cum and your juices under the light of the hotel room.

He immediately moans when he enters the warmth of your mouth, his heavy cock sliding on your wet tongue. He doesn't let you have much control, pushing his dick in your mouth until your nose touches his pubic hair.

You relax your jaw for Jimin, allowing him to stuff your mouth full of his cock. He looks down at you, watching the way your lips wrap around him tightly, your eyes starting to water. He still holds the back of your head with one hand, guiding you over his stiff erection and you moan obscenely around Jimin, drool dripping down on your chin.

He begins to fuck your mouth, forcing you to take the whole thing each time he bottoms out. He moves his hips back and forth, obsessed with the way his girth appears and reappears between your lips as he uses your mouth as he pleases.

"Shit," he hisses when you hollow your cheeks, making it more pleasurable for him. "You're a fucking cockslut, aren't you, baby?" He says breathily, his eyes not once leaving his cock penetrating your mouth over and over again.

You whine around him, surely agreeing with what he said. It sends deliciously vibrations through his entire body, the sounds of your moans and hearing you gag around him is so arousing to him. He wants to hear more so he literally uses your mouth like a toy, snapping his hips against you, his balls slapping your chin.

He lets out a deep moan, your cheeks now damp and eyelashes all wet because of your tears, eyes stinging as Jimin fucks your throat like a mad man.

"Stroke your clit," he manages to say between two heavy breaths. "You can get off by yourself, right? I know you're soaking wet just by letting me use that pretty mouth of yours," he mocks you, but he knows he's right. Whatever he does, your cunt is always dripping wet.

You whimper again, doing what he told you to and sneaking a hand between your thighs to play with your pussy. You part your legs wider as you circle your clit with your finger, Jimin's hooded eyes lazily watching you playing with yourself.

Your right hand is laying on his thigh while the other is operating between your legs, pleasuring yourself to the sounds of Jimin's moans and the feeling of his stiff cock weighing down on your tongue.

You do your best to breathe through your nose, swallowing around his length and flattening your tongue underneath him. Your juices drip down your inner thighs, your finger flickering over your sensitive bud smoothly because of your arousal.

The whole room is smelling like sex, an odour that Jimin can't ignore, loving it so much. Your lips glide so easily over his hard cock, completely covered in your spit and still some of your wetness, tasting yourself on him.

"Ah, fuck," he curses, his head rolling back on his shoulders, eyes still strained down on you. He feels the familiar burning sensation at the pit of his stomach, indicating he's really close to his orgasm. He stops thrusting in you. "Go on the bed, baby."

You're taken aback, but you follow his order, pulling him out of your mouth and laying your back down on the mattress close to the edge. You beautifully moan when Jimin penetrates your pussy a second time, bending your legs over your stomach.

"Oh, god," you cry softly, being pounded onto the bed by him right away, tits moving up and down on your chest.

His hands are positioned on each side of your shoulders, snapping his hips against yours so harshly you feel your skin stinging. You keep doing circle motions on your clit, now faster and impatient to reach your high.

You let out a high-pitched moan when Jimin suddenly steadies his hips over yours, dropping down to his elbows as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. "Holy fuck," he grunts, gripping the bed sheets tightly in fists beside your head as his cock twitches in your pussy.

"Yes, yes," you quietly exclaim, your clitoral orgasm passing through you, making you arch your back and buck your hips.

Your hole clenches repeatedly around him and he finally comes undone into you, shooting long, thick ropes of cum deep into you. He empties himself in your wet cunt, cumming just after you.

When he slips out of you, more spurts out of his tip, landing on your pussy, covering it in his creamy cum. You moan at the warm sensation, always loving how it feels both in and on you. Some of his seeds dribble out of you, dripping down to your ass.

He stays above you for some time, catching his breath and looking at the mess he made on you. He stares up at your face, seeing how fucked up you look, hair in a nest and eyes reddened.

Later, Jimin is in the shower, washing his hair and his body, passing a soft cloth soaked in soap over his chest. He lets the water fall over his head, wetting his black locks. He stays maybe a bit longer than normally, staring at the tiled wall.

He thinks about you, about all the things he's planned. He revised everything in his head, imagining you walk on the podium wearing his design, people looking at his piece with admiration in their eyes.

He thinks about all of that that will go down for you after the show, getting fired, losing your career and your fans. Many articles talking about your excessive use of alcohol and drugs, saying how tired and sad you look beside Jimin.

You won't last long, you're too weak anyway. A downfall like this is unconquerable, nobody recovers from that, and surely not a model who will be thrown out of the industry as soon as you turn twenty-five.

Jimin knows the industry, he's been in it for years now. He's aware of how cruel it is, how difficult and harsh it can be on fragile little girls like you.

But that's why he's here, to take care of you once nobody will want you anymore. That's the goal, after all; you to be finally his — solely and completely his.

"Jimin?"

Your voice reaches him, turning his head in your direction, seeing you hesitantly entering the shower with him. He opens his arms, inviting you to come closer and you do, hugging him and laying your head down on his wet chest.

"I love you, sweetheart," he softly murmurs against your hair. "I'll never leave you, you know that, right?"

You nod your head, looking up at him and meeting his gaze. "I love you, too."

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A F T E R

The runway went incredibly well. Celebrities and journalists were all gathered for the fall show, totally amazed by every design and the models that were wearing them.

But there was one specific piece that everyone was willing to say was the best.

Jimin was satisfied to see that his name stood out among everyone else's, being called more times than Dior itself. He predicted it; it was the creation that every guest remembered, the dress that the fans were only talking about.

He'd take all the credit, he was the one who imagined it and then sewed it after all, but he has to admit that you had contributed to the fame a lot.

Being the beloved face of Dior only made people talk more about it and that was what Jimin needed.

But everything has an end, doesn't it?

When Jimin comes back to his apartment, the place is silent except for the TV playing, as he thought it would be. You're looking through the window, watching the city living at night while it's raining. You're sitting on the sofa, not even acknowledging his presence as he enters, getting rid of his shoes.

You're not much of a talker since you've been fired from Dior a few days ago just after the fall show. He understands your wish of remaining silent, needing a bit of space to process everything that has happened the past weeks in your small head.

It was going to happen soon enough anyway. You've been to your photoshoots completely drunk, sometimes just going in with a hangover, but of course it didn't help your case at all.

Jimin was guilty for letting you drink alcohol so soon in the morning. No need to deny it, he was even the one for dropping you off at work like that. Well, he had to do it if he wanted people to notice how far you've fallen.

He doesn't feel bad, though. Your career wasn't going to last with Jimin's sabotage or not. He did you a favour, you should be thankful.

You can't handle being a model. If you could, none of that would have happened. You wouldn't have gained weight, you would have been suspicious of the amount of calories Jimin was feeding you. The bottle of wine wouldn't have been so tempting and smoking weed wouldn't have ever occurred to you as a good idea.

Some people can, others can't and you're one of them. You shouldn't be ashamed of it, sometimes things just don't work out like we would have wanted them to.

"Did you see the article they wrote about me?" You ask, already knowing he's walking up to you without looking. "You surely did, I bet that's all they're talking about..."

He sits down beside you and you eventually turn around, facing him. You care so much about what others think of you. It must be so tiring having such a low self-esteem. He can only imagine it; seeing you look through the window like a sad puppy, your life finally making sense when Jimin comes home.

"I did, but nothing of that matters to me," he answers, the most honest he's ever been. And even if he had to lie, it's not like you wouldn't have believed him. You always trust whatever he says.

You don't reply, your head still filled with many thoughts.

"Hey, come here," he softly tells you, patting his thigh. You straddle his lap, setting your hands on his shoulders. He cups your chin, forcing you to look at him as you keep avoiding his gaze. "Whatever they say, whatever their name is, nothing will ever be more important than you."

Because who is he if he lets some article affect the way he sees you? He's known you since the beginning of your career and he stayed til the end of it.

He knows you better than everyone else. He was with you during your highs and lows and he'll still be there for the next ones. There's nothing in the world that could make him leave you. After everything he's done to have you, there's no way he'll go away.

How cowardly of him if he does. He can't leave when he's promised he'd heal you — close all of your past wounds and create other ones.

He may be selfish, but there's one thing that he isn't and it's a fucking liar. He sticks to his words, and when he says he'll never leave you, that means he'll never, never abandon you — he'll never leave your side, not even once. He can't risk it.

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#bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jimin imagines #jimin fanfic #jimin fanfiction #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin fic

[forlix]

𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠・h.h.

— you're uninviting, there's no doubt about that, your resolve like unpolished diamond and tongue like broken glass. but hyunjin finds you're not half as impossible as everyone assumes you are.

words・11.1k

pairing・idol!hyunjin x female stylist!reader (inspired by this)

genres・fluff, angst, eventual smut so MDNI, some hurt/comfort, some humor, mc is a bad bitch and hyunjin is a #simp, enemies? to lovers, sexual tension, workplace relationship, mutual pining, slow burn, nonlinear narrative, alternating perspectives

warnings・cunnilingus, overstimulation, creampie (practice safe sex!!), mild dacryphilia. again, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS THAT INTERACT WITH THIS POST WILL BE BLOCKED.

warnings (cont'd.)・reader vividly remembers an anxiety attack. alcohol is consumed. lots of compartmentalization and imperfect communication. latter half is just kind of sad in general tbh but what do u expect from a fic based off alex turner lyrics

playlist・farewell, neverland by txt・like crazy by jimin・black friday by tom odell・collide by justine skye・crying lightning by arctic monkeys

a/n・call me victor frankenstein bc i've given birth to a MONSTER (except i actually love and care for mine ofc). this was easily the greatest challenge of my fanfiction-writing career and it feels like my magnum opus; i hope it's worth the wait! also a huge shoutout to sahar for being my voice of reason and my biggest supporter :’) i don’t deserve u i love u

Present day. Cannes, France. 5:54 P.M.

You’ve long made peace with the fact that Hwang Hyunjin is incapable of shutting up for more than five minutes.

As it is, the man has a mouth that runs like a cross-country marathon; then throw in his uncanny aptitude for annoying you, and what do you get? A nonstop slew of terrible jokes and teasing quips, tailored according to his thorough mental manual of what gets under your skin hardest and fastest.

This is the reality you live in, presumably because you were evil in your past life, and you’ve steeled yourself to see it through.

But twenty minutes have passed since you and Hyunjin ducked into the back of a cab and gave the driver the show’s address—and, as stunning as the red rooftops and lazuline coastline of Cannes are, you find you’re more interested in Hyunjin’s peculiar silence.

You move your gaze to his face. He’s looking outside, his chin resting upon the palm of his hand, the afternoon sunlight dusting over his chiseled features like polish on pottery; his complexion an exuberant gold against the cream-colored linen that makes up his clothing.

Maybe it’s because you opted for a simpler makeup look today, leaving the most telling contours of his face warm and bare, or maybe it’s because you’ve spent the last year committing his every mannerism and expression to memory. Nevertheless, you see through his pursed lips and tight brow right away.

“Nervous?” 

Hyunjin’s head swivels towards you with a small snap, like he’s forgotten you’re here. His lips fall open, their glossy peach color glinting with the small shift.

“No,” he replies reflexively, but then his facade flickers. “Fuck, maybe a little. It’s just hard to believe, you know?”

You do know. It was a huge honor for both of you when Hyunjin was named the newest global ambassador of Versace. For you to be attending the brand’s pop-up show in one of the most beautiful cities in Europe, among some of the world’s most prolific creatives, is truly incomprehensible. Even you’ve been feeling antsy since you landed; you can only imagine Hyunjin’s anxiety.

You have never been good at consolation. You think your mouth is too coarse, your propensity for honesty too strong. But you’ve always known just what to say when it comes to him.

“Just remember who you are.”

Hyunjin takes a few seconds to process your words, but his understanding washes over his whole body; straightens his back; hardens his gaze. You don’t see this change in posture, though. You’re too busy looking anywhere else, all of a sudden feeling quite embarrassed.

Nor do you see the private smile that disperses across Hyunjin’s lips; his eyes softening so, so marginally when they peer at your profile; his hand twitching where it rests on his knee, as if contemplating reaching for you with a mind of its own.

Thirty seconds. That is the amount of time you have left to bask in this otherworldly tranquility. And then he speaks.

“I want you to meet my parents.”

Your arm reacts before your mind can. Without having to turn your head an inch, you smack him squarely in the bicep, sending him crumpling against his door with a bark of a laugh; “please,” he adds, and you’re biting back a smile as you hit him again, with less conviction this time.

The cab driver nearly misses an exit, too busy wondering about the peculiar pair in his backseat and the nature of your relationship. He can’t tell if you hate each other or if you’re married.

One year ago. Seoul, South Korea. 8:42 A.M.

“I still can’t believe you’re abandoning me.”

“For my newborn daughter.”

“Yeah, okay. I still can’t believe you’re abandoning me for your newborn daughter. What does that brat have that I don’t?”

“My genes, to begin with.”

“That’s unfair. She’s using—”

An important-looking pair of women step out of the nearest elevators, the clacking of their heels ricocheting sharply off the lobby walls. Hyunjin straightens his back so quickly he thinks he pulls a muscle. He and Seojun incline their heads in perfect sync, their “good morning”s prim and professional.

“She’s using cheats,” Hyunjin hisses the second the women are out of earshot again, and this wrests a laugh from the older man at last.

Around one month prior, Seojun confided in Hyunjin that he and his partner were expecting their first child soon, and that he would be putting his career on indefinite hiatus to welcome her into the world.

Hyunjin had never felt so conflicted in his life. On one hand, he’d grown closer to his stylist over the last two years than he’d thought possible, and he knew it was stupid to be anything but delighted for him and his expanding family. On the other hand, it was precisely because they’d become so close that he wanted to grab the man by the ankles and shake the decision clean out of his body. He couldn’t imagine a dressing room or tour bus without him.

Today is a Saturday, but it’s also Seojun’s last day with the company. Hyunjin dragged himself to the JYP building at half past eight with much less reluctance than he let on. He wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

“Fourth floor,” Seojun instructs after the pair enter the elevator, and Hyunjin presses a knuckle to the according number. “Thanks.”

The doors slide shut; the floor numbers tick upwards.

“What was her name again?” Hyunjin asks.

“Y/N,” Seojun returns. “Y/L/N.”

“Is she here already?”

“No, she’ll be here at nine.”

There’s a small pause. 

“Hyung.”

“Hm?”

“I feel like I’m being married off to another family for political reasons.”

“God, I can’t wait to be free of your theatrics.”

At this, the two men make eye contact; exchange smiles. The elevator announces their arrival to the fourth floor, and they step through the doors.

“You’ll be in good hands,” Seojun reassures. “She’s the best of the best. I hear she’s basically running the industry these days. I’m surprised she agreed to take you on.”

“I’m surprised an old fry like you knows someone like her,” Hyunjin replies, and the look Seojun gives him is so withering that he thinks he pulls a muscle again with his apologetic bow.

“You’re not wrong, though,” Seojun concedes. “We happened to work on the same project back when she was still a small name, and we’ve kept in touch ever since. She’s a great kid. Ambitious, hardworking, strong as hell—”

They arrive outside their destination, and Hyunjin holds open the door to the conference room. Only to find that Seojun has stopped in his footsteps, temporarily stunned by a new realization.

She reminds me of him.

“He’s forgotten how to walk,” the him in question whispers like he’s narrating a nature documentary, and the moment is over. “Is this what fatherhood does to a man?”

Seojun kicks Hyunjin into the room by the seat of his pants.

The minutes pass slowly. Seojun moves his eyes between the door and his phone every few seconds, visibly antsy about the imminent meeting. In the meantime, Hyunjin makes the groundbreaking discovery that these office chairs are absurdly and almost suspiciously comfortable. All it takes is a chin upon his palm and a few seconds of shut-eye, and he’s suddenly slumped over the table, snoring softly into the crook of his elbow.

At 8:57, Seojun’s phone lights up with a new notification. At 8:58, he notices that Hyunjin is asleep, and closes his hand around the crumpled receipt in his pocket. At 8:59, he scrunches said receipt into a ball and launches it in Hyunjin’s direction. It hits him squarely on the head, and the boy is nearly knocked to the floor like a bowling pin.

“For that,” Hyunjin sputters, “I’m the godfather.”

“Absolutely the hell not.”

Then, it is 9:00.

When the door of the conference room opens, Hyunjin is still trying to gather his wits, wondering if the bastard is leaving the makeup industry to secretly pursue a career in professional basketball. He just barely notices the unfamiliar figure who steps into his line of vision.

“There she is,” Seojun greets warmly, rising to his feet right away. “God, how long has it been? Two, three years now?”

You’re not doing anything remarkable when Hyunjin sees you for the first time, simply walking across the room and bowing graciously in Seojun’s direction, but he is immediately under the vague impression that you’re cutting through space as you move, scorching the particles of air that dare obstruct your path. 

With his head cocked slightly to the left, like a fascinated puppy, Hyunjin watches the stunning smile that forms on your lips when you take Seojun’s hand; your finger as it tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear with the elegance of rippling silk. His mind feels impossibly slow, like you’ve tapped open his skull and robbed him of his ability to think.

Then, you toss Hyunjin a look over your shoulder, and he’s reminded of lightning forking towards the earth. Terrifying, volatile, beautiful.

“Something like that,” you say, turning back to Seojun, and time starts to move again. “It’s great to see you again, Mr. Lee. Congratulations on the baby.”

“Please, Seojun is fine,” he answers hastily. “And thank you. Thank you for all of this, actually. I can’t tell you how excited we are to have you.” 

“You’re too kind—I’m excited too.”

Upon uttering the word “we,” Seojun delivers Hyunjin a fleeting side-eye; he takes the hint and pushes himself to his feet, feeling uncharacteristically clumsy as he moves towards you.

The second time he meets your gaze, it feels wrong, almost, for him to hold it for as long as he does. Like he’s approaching your throne with his chin held high and eyes fixed forward instead of his head sweeping the ground.

Except he swears he senses a strange warmth within the rings of your irises, and he spends every second of eye contact following, chasing it, almost craning his neck with how badly he wants to get a closer look. Until he’s as close to you as is socially acceptable for a first meeting and comes to a halt.

He ends up losing its trail, but he won’t forget that it’s there. 

“My client, I’m guessing?” You say, extending your hand. “Y/N. It’s a pleasure.”

Your fingers are freezing cold where they meet his, and Hyunjin already knows that melting the permafrost that coats your flesh and guards your soul will be the tallest task of his life.

But he finds his next words accompanied by an involuntary smirk; he’s nothing, if not tenacious.

“Hyunjin,” he returns. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

Nine months ago. Paris, France. 6:16 P.M.

Hyunjin isn’t sure why—maybe you forget that he can still steal glances at your reflection over your shoulder or through the gaps of your fingers—but he’s learned over the last four weeks that you’re different, gentler, when you’re doing his makeup.

Your cold hands request instead of demand that he angle his head a certain way or suck in his cheeks. Your syllables are rounder somehow, your voice never traveling above a murmur. Even your eyes mellow out when you move in really close, your pupils dilating as you detail the final touches to the fresco you’ve painted upon him.

Your expression doesn’t give you away (it never does), but his hunch is that there’s a sprinkle of doting somewhere among the intense focus. That would explain why he feels like a flower in the moments when your fingertips and gaze move so carefully over his skin, like you’re touching his petals, trying not to tear them.

Too bad you never let him daydream for long.

“Close.”

“Huh?”

“Your eyes. Close them.”

His lashes have hardly brushed his lower lids when you begin to empty what feels like an entire bottle of setting spray on him. At the moist surprise, Hyunjin’s features scrunch up around his nose and he lets out a distraught hack like an old man.

A few seconds later, the barrage stops, and he cracks open a wary eye to scope out his surroundings. You wait until he does this to give his face one last spurt.

“Witch,” Hyunjin mutters, clawing back up the vanity chair.

“Thank you,” you reply, completely earnestly.

And whatever Hyunjin was going to say next suspends instantly on his tongue when you bring the pad of your thumb to the very edge of his lower lip and drag it across the soft flesh. He wonders if you know how hard he tries not to look at your mouth whenever you tend to his. He wonders if there’s anything you don’t know.

“You smudged your lipstick already.” There’s a small streak of coral pink on your hand when it falls back to your side. “See? That’s why we need the setting spray.”

“Uh huh.” And Hyunjin spots a ghost of a smile flit across your face, gone nearly as soon as it appears. The only evidence of it ever existing is the quickened heartbeat it leaves behind within him.

“You’re done, by the way,” you say, stepping aside. “Take a look.”

He slips out of his seat and moves closer to the vanity, peering at his reflection as curiously as if he’s never seen it before. But that’s how he’s felt since he started working with you.

Seojun was right: you are the best that the makeup industry has to offer. Hyunjin has come to understand this for multiple reasons. Your phone screen is incessantly illuminated by new notifications and incoming calls. The other stylists heed your advice like it’s the law. Brushes and pencils move like water when it’s you maneuvering them. And then some.

He would call what you have “talent,” but he knows it’s more than that. You show him a new version of himself every time you turn a mirror in his direction, like there are facets of him that are visible to you and you only. As much as he delights in the notion that you have such intimate knowledge of him, it should be impossible, considering you’ve only known him for two months. So no, it’s not just talent that you possess. It’s some combination of talent, hawkish perception, and raw artistry that is utterly inhuman—and sexy as fuck.

Speaking of sexy. Hyunjin’s look is relatively rudimentary tonight, the makeup light, the outfit a simple black tank top beneath a jacket and pants made of bright red velvet. But it’s the details that tie the whole thing together: the wide, loose sleeves causing the jacket to slip continually off his shoulders; the inner layer tight in all the right places. His face doesn’t look half bad either, with the sultry carmine powder that fringes his eyes and the intentionally mussed state of his hair. He pushes a hand through the dark locks, regarding himself with thorough appreciation.

You appear in his periphery as you start cleaning up your work station. “You can just take the jacket off when your sweat glands start malfunctioning, by the way. I thought you’d appreciate that detail.”

At this, his smize cracks into a laugh, the sound loud and uninhibited and uniquely yours to hear. “You suck.”

He looks away from his reflection just in time to glimpse another of your phantom smiles, and he thinks it’s so painfully on brand that the two times it’s appeared tonight have both been from you making yourself laugh. You might be the most insufferable person he’s ever met. He might be obsessed with you anyways.

“Well?” You implore. “What do you think?”

“No notes.” 

It’s the answer you’re expecting. You survey him from head to toe one last time, decide that you, too, are satisfied, and slip your makeup into your bag; hike its strap over your shoulder.

“I’ll see you after the show, then.”

You have an important conference call to attend before tonight’s concert, hence why Hyunjin had to come in early for hair and makeup. This is also the reason why the two of you have been the only people in the dressing room for the better part of an hour. 

It’s rare that he ever gets you alone, and he doesn’t want it to end. Not just yet.

“I lied, actually,” he calls. “I do have notes.”

You already have one foot out the door when you hear this, and you turn around so slowly and in such disbelief that he has to fight to constrain his laugh—the concept of imperfection is truly unthinkable to you. Insufferable, like he said.

“Do tell,” you say, dropping your bag back onto the floor.

“You have any jewelry for me?”

You chew on this for a moment. You did have a selection of necklaces prepared for tonight, but they were heavy and numerous, not exactly the best-suited for the group’s dynamic sets. You still like them, granted, and you know Hyunjin would as well.

You articulate all of this to him, and he asks if he can take a look at them anyways. “Come here, then,” you say, the words so tantalizing when they fall from your lips that nearly trips over himself trying to obey.

You take out a flat rectangular box from your bag and set it down in front of the lightbulb-studded mirrors. Hyunjin observes quietly as you show him its contents: three thick, gold chains with varying lengths and boasting different pendants, plus a beaded bracelet and an assembly of rings of the same material. His devious plan aside, he does love the selection.

“You’re sure you won’t be uncomfortable?”

He nods, and you pick up the longest of the three chains; turn to him expectedly. He takes this as his cue to move closer to you, except he overshoots a little, and he feels the tips of his shoes accidentally bump into the ends of yours; discerns the warmth emanating from your body against his own. He expects a withering glare, a kick in the shin, maybe, but you don’t seem bothered by the proximity at all, unblinking as you bring your hands around the either side of his neck and fasten the first necklace with a soft tap. Your fingers then brush over his collarbones to adjust the pendant, and he thinks your hands would have to be numb not to perceive the frantic heartbeat threatening to burst straight out of his skin.

Entire minutes pass before Hyunjin musters the courage to actually look at you. By then, you’re already working on the third and final necklace. It’s not a surprise that your face is mere inches away from his; he’s been watching your reflections out of the corner of his eye; he knows you’re closer to each other than you’ve ever been. But there are parts of you that the mirror doesn’t show—the soft curve of your lashes, the concentrated narrow of your eyes, the shapely protrusion of your pursed lips—and these surprise him so thoroughly that he slips and slides out of his right mind.

You are the type of beautiful that’s been around longer than humans have, the same as that of the true blue color of forget-me-nots. And Hyunjin feels enveloped, intoxicated by you from this minuscule distance. The idea forms numbly in his head that maybe, just maybe, he was put on this earth to admire you.

In this inebriated state, he makes a venturesome decision.

When you finish centering the last pendant upon the his chest, you are about to take a step back and review the updated look, but you’re debilitated by the feeling of fingers grazing over your hip—lightly, so lightly that you mistake them for a gust of wind at first, but the contact is enough to push the small of your back against the edge of the counter. Then, both of Hyunjin’s hands reach behind you, pressing flat against the marble surface, and, just like that, he has you right where he wants you, ensnared between cold stone and hot flesh.

And so begins an equilibrium so fragile that it’ll shatter if one of you so much as blinks the wrong way, your rattled breath fluttering against his lips, his eyes dark and hooded and out of focus as they survey the fine lines of your expression. It still doesn’t give you away (it never does), but he finds that in this moment he just doesn’t care.

“Let me take you out,” he murmurs. “One date.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You reply under your breath.

“You know what I’m talking about, beautiful.”

Upon uttering that last word, he angles his head almost imperceptibly, the movement challenging, daring you to say something about it. But you don’t. You merely hiss out a whetted “you’re fucking crazy,” and that’s his opening to drag this on a little longer; push your limits a little more.

“About you? Damn straight.”

At this, finally, fucking finally, there is a semblance of something in your face that isn’t just your usual mildly-irritated nonchalance. Instead, he detects surprise in the whites of your eyes as you widen them; as you part your lips with a response that only comes much later.

And he’s surprised by your surprise. Surely, with your skills of observation, you would’ve noticed long ago how his world shrinks down to only you and your gorgeous voice and your confident glare and your shitty sense of humor whenever he’s been granted the privilege of your presence.

This might be the first time he’s admitted it out loud, but he hasn’t tried—hasn’t been able—to hide how he feels about you, not now, not ever. It’s been that way since the moment the sole of your shoe met the carpet of that conference room on the fourth floor of the JYP building.

 “Hwang—” You begin.

“Hyung!”

At the sound of a third, new voice, your arms tense like you’re about to shove Hyunjin off of you, but he only leans in further, so that his lips almost graze your jaw and your hands have nowhere to go except the taut surface of his chest. The surprise is gone; now you’re just pissed. He can feel the heat of your furious eyes and the tremor in your hands as you form fists around the fabric of his top. But he takes his sweet time in scooping up the bracelet and rings, and only afterwards does he pull away from you and straighten to his full height.

“Hey, Innie!” Hyunjin chirps, and Jeongin materializes in the doorway, looking thoroughly perturbed by the older boy’s sunny tone. “What’s up?” 

In the meantime, you turn around to snap the lid of your jewelry box shut, and it takes a singular glance in the mirror for a truly horrible realization to settle upon your shoulders. You don’t think anybody would be able to tell even if you announced it outright, but you know yourself and the little nuances of your face all too well.

You’re flustered.

You feel like a horror movie heroine breaking the fourth wall. 

“Nothing, weirdo. I was just announcing my arrival,” Jeongin says. Thank fuck you did, Hyunjin thinks to himself, completely unaware of the epiphany you’re having behind him. “Chan-hyung mentioned you were here already? Why?”

“She’s in high demand.” Hyunjin points out the she in question by jutting his chin in your direction. “The usual.”

“Ah.”

Jeongin inclines his head towards you in polite greeting. You return his hello, but your expression starts to feel tight when his eyes dart between the strange smile on Hyunjin’s face and your awkward stance (still glued to the edge of the counter) as he drops his duffel by the couch. The boy isn’t stupid, unlike his older counterpart.

“I saw a vending machine on my way here,” Jeongin says, turning to leave the room again. “You want anything, hyung? Noona?”

“I’m okay, thank you,” you say.

“I’ll have whatever you have,” Hyunjin says.

Jeongin flashes a thumbs-up and dips out of the room, perhaps a little more hastily than he intends to come across. And then there are two. Again.

You wait until you can’t hear his footsteps anymore, and then you turn to glower at Hyunjin so intensely that he thinks you’re about to place a curse on his whole bloodline.

Then, your phone starts vibrating, and he knows he’ll live to see another day.

“You still owe me an answer,” Hyunjin calls as you turn around and leave the room.

“Don’t hold your breath,” you reply.

One day, I’ll break her, is the predominant thought that resides in Hyunjin’s head as he slips on the remaining jewelry; watches your figure disappear around a corner. One day, I’ll break his face, is the predominant thought that resides in yours as you stalk away. That’s the two of you, in a nutshell.

Six months ago. Osaka, Japan. 3:03 P.M.

When you walk into the dressing room, you find Haeun hunched over an overflowing photo album with her hands forming fists in her hair, muttering to nobody in particular, “I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.”

There’s an amused look in your eye as you set your bag down by Hyunjin’s empty vanity chair. She hasn’t noticed your presence yet; approximately three hallways down, the members are rehearsing for tonight’s performance on the main stage of the Kyocera Dome, and the music is so loud that you think you actually saw the walls vibrating while you were in the hallway moments ago.

You rise to your tiptoes and encroach upon her, waiting until she’s within reach to tickle the back of her neck. She nearly flies out of her seat with a shriek that can be heard over the heavy bass.

“Never gets old.” You hand her the photo album that went soaring also, and Haeun snatches it back with an affronted flourish.

“I can’t remember the last time you said hi to me normally, unnie.”

“Me neither, now that you mention it.”

Haeun and Han are your favorite stylist-idol duo in the world because they’re so eerily similar—and it’s adorable. They both illuminate every room they walk into; they both have grins too big for their faces, laughs too loud for their lungs. You always regret leaving your sunglasses at home when you catch sight of the effulgent pair.

But today you cannot detect the usual radiance in Haeun’s voice, nor so much as a hint of her easy grin. Then again, that’s another quality that she and her client share; they’re both well acquainted with the burdens that come with unwavering passion.

Every stylist has their own modus operandi. Haeun’s is a scrapbook of images that she cuts out and saves from catalogs, advertisements, newspapers, et cetera. You’ve seen it many times before, but never in such a state: messy handwriting stuffing the margins to their very brims, numbers and symbols like clusters of rainclouds over a sea of different outfits, arrows and circles and squares highlighting pant cuffs and cascade collars and dangling earrings. Telltale signs that Haeun hasn’t a clue as to what Han will be wearing tonight.

You gnaw on your lower lip, deliberating your next move. You end up placing a firm hand against the album’s cover and pushing it closed.

“Come with me,” you say. “We’re gonna try a new approach.”

Haeun opens her mouth to protest, but unfortunately you have an extensive track record of being right.

“What do you have in mind?” She sighs instead.

“You’ll see.”

With that, you stand up, tuck a small towel under your arm, and angle your head in the direction of the music.

The two of you make your way through the labyrinth of hallways that comprise the venue’s backstage. Eventually, the color of the floor changes from speckled white to solid black, and you step onto the part of the stage that is concealed from the audience by drawn curtains and heavy equipment. You say a quick hello to the group’s manager as you dip past him, and eventually reach the edge of the curtains, where you and Haeun have a good view of the eight members as they run through their setlist for tonight’s concert.

Haeun settles into the spot beside you, still confused as she follows your gaze. 

“Let me ask you this,” you say, just audible over the din. “Can you style a performer if you don’t know how he performs?”

And understanding seeps over her features like poured tea.

“I want you to watch him,” you continue. “Tell me how he performs.”

Han’s part begins, as if on cue. His voice rings out through the empty stadium as he ducks to the front of the formation, a microphone held loosely to his lips, his face taut with focus. Haeun stares at him for some time, silently trying to fathom her observations, but she sees you shaking your head in the corner of her eye.

“Don’t think, Haeun. Just speak.”

She blows out a deep breath before obliging. “It’s hard to picture Han doing anything but laughing or making other people laugh, he’s so goofy and lighthearted most of the time. But he’s like a different person on stage. He’s so intense, it’s almost intimidating. Not intimidating in a douchey way, though—you just get the impression that he’s very confident in himself and his music.

You don’t say another word, but don’t need to. She’s hit her stride.

“His voice and enunciation are so clear. It’s crazy how he sounds exactly like the studio recording. Plus, his delivery feels genuine; he’s not just reciting lyrics, but speaking straight from his heart.

“And this is gonna sound bad, but I didn’t know Han could dance. Like, yeah, I knew that he could dance, but not like this. His movements are so sharp that I feel like my attention is being—”

Right there.

She cuts herself off, reaching the same conclusion.

“It’s his turn to talk, and he wants you to cling to his every word," Haeun articulates slowly. "He’s demanding your attention. He needs you to listen. That’s how he performs.”

A satisfied smile bolts across your face like lightning. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Haeun pictures her scrapbook again, and there are now only a few articles of clothing and accessories that fit the framework you’ve helped her forge. She’s almost dizzy with disbelief, tearing her eyes from Han to look at you instead.

“You’re brilliant, you know that?”

“I do, but I appreciate the reminder.”

She can’t help but giggle. It’s a you answer if she’s ever heard one. “Do you do that with all of your clients?”

Haeun asks the question arbitrarily, without thinking. But you respond in a way that she doesn’t think she’s ever witnessed before, and she’s momentarily baffled by the sight: you hesitate.

As the song’s final chorus approaches, Hyunjin is the one folding himself into the center of the eight-person throng. You can only see his back from this angle, but even then it’s palpable how expertly and effortlessly he molds his body to the modulations of the music; how much fervor and feeling he expresses with every jerk of his spine and flex of his hands.

Within a few short seconds, innumerable descriptors and sensations skim the surface of your mind—but one word knocks the rest clean out of the water, the way it always does when you watch Hwang Hyunjin perform.

Artistry.

“No,” you reply. “Not all of them.”

And where better to find inspiration than inspiration himself?

Haeun furrows a brow, understandably puzzled by this response, but you don’t elaborate. Partially because you feel like being coy, but mostly because you know that any explanation you offer will sound like a confession.

The song ends, leaving your ears ringing with the abrupt absence of sound. The members hold their poses with heaving shoulders, staring out into the empty stands until the stage manager’s voice comes through the monitors.

“And that’s a wrap! We’re all set for tonight. Good work, everyone.”

There is a ripple of movement around the stage as the boys relax. Jeongin jogs over to Minho, hoping to review a particularly challenging dance break; the manager asks Chan if he has a second to discuss travel logistics; Seungmin plops onto the edge of the stage and downs the rest of his water; Hyunjin beelines toward you the second he sees you, because of course he does.

You get a good look at him as he skips closer. Stray blonde locks plastered against his damp skin, tank top dyed several shades darker by the perspiration rolling down his neck, the muscles of his arms actually rippling as he swings them around stupidly, a shit-eating smile plastered across his stunning face.

You’re annoyed before he says a word.

“I didn’t know they were letting fans backstage now,” he hums happily. “Want an autograph, gorgeous?”

“Put a sock in it.” You whisk the towel you’ve been holding in his direction. “Wet freak.”

But he catches and tosses it over his shoulder straightaway, and your heart sinks to your fucking ankle. You’ve seen this movie before. You know how it ends.

“No.” You take a shaky step back. “No, nope, don’t even think about—”

The next thing you know, Hyunjin is lunging towards you and winding his arms around your waist, nearly sweeping you clean off your feet as he pulls you into his sweaty embrace. To your complete dismay, your face presses flat against the clammy plane of his chest. “Call me a wet freak again, go on,” he manages to say through his laughter. 

In response, one of your hands wriggles free of its slippery prison and snatches the cuff of Hyunjin’s ear with impressive accuracy. He yelps and loosens his hold on you, but doesn’t relent completely, not even when he catches sight of the murderous expression on your face and cackles so forcefully his whole head is thrown back.

You tighten your grip. “Wet,” you seethe, “freak.”

“Ow—okay, don’t make it hot, what’s wrong with you?”

“Wha—what’s wrong with YOU?!”

As the two of you dissolve into your fatuous arguing, Haeun is no longer sure that she’s still standing here. She’s not even sure if she’s in her right mind anymore. She thinks she might be hallucinating the way everything about Hyunjin softens next to you, or the way your biting tone only seems to nibble when it’s him on the receiving end.

“Psst. We’ve been placing bets on them. You want in?”

Han suddenly materializes next to Haeun, and she would have been jumpscared into a different dimension if she wasn’t so fixated upon the bizarre occurrence before her.

But what if she’s not hallucinating?

No, not all of them, you’d said, like you were disclosing a forbidden secret.

“Yes,” she says, and Han beams. “Absolutely.”

Three months ago. Seoul, South Korea. 2:26 A.M.

On a tranquil Saturday night, you’re sitting at your desk, your knees tucked to your chest, the newest episode of your drama playing quietly on your laptop, a half-empty glass of rosé and open sketchbook laid before you. This is your happy place—a safe haven that the trials and tribulations of the real world can’t reach. But you think you’ve really gone and lost your mind when you find yourself thinking about your job.

Well, not your job, exactly. More like the man who makes your job feel fucking Sisyphean.

You know your way around fabric and foundation better than anyone, but you have never struggled with anything as much as you have trying to navigate Hyunjin. You show up to work every day ready to just put some makeup on the man; instead, you wind up stumbling around the potholes of his dimples and the hills of the veins that run over his forearms and hands like a hopeless drunkard. Scouring the creases of his smile and the oscillations of his voice like they’re topographical maps. Mentally replaying your interactions with him time and time again like you’re monitoring security footage, trying to detect illicit activity in every casual touch he leaves on your shoulder or waist; every babe or gorgeous he throws your way, seemingly without a second thought.

You’ve been trying to understand him and his intentions for seven months now, and your efforts have yielded no fruit whatsoever, save for a few theories that you feel insane for even humoring.

You down the rest of the blush-colored liquid, and as you set down your empty glass you notice your fingers itch with a familiar urge. The pen that you’ve been twirling over your knuckles stills, then swivels; its tip hovers over the last free corner of the sheet of cartridge paper below you. And then it presses upon the surface and starts to move, as naturally as if on its own.

When you were little, you came across a children’s book that you no longer remember the name of, about a little girl with a magical pen that brought her every drawing to life. You decided then that you would one day be that girl.

At some point, the subjects of your incessant sketching became almost exclusively runway models and makeup advertisements. You cemented that you wanted to work in fashion as early as your high school graduation, and by then you already possessed the conviction and charisma of the industry’s most experienced members. Your portfolio was stellar; your personality prophesied of wild success. So your career took off, propelled by the neverending positions and projects that various companies continually laid before your feet.

You stand and pad to your kitchen to refill your glass, only to bring the entire bottle of wine back to your room instead. With one hand, you flick the cap off and lift the whole thing to your lips; with the other, you seize your pen again, not wanting to lose momentum.

For the year or so after you joined the industry, you basked in your idyllic prosperity. Even the doodles you scrawled on random napkins during banal business lunches would appear on some of the world’s most renowned faces the next week. You had indubitably become the little girl from your story; made a career out of giving your imagination tangible form. And what a fruitful career it was going to be.

If only you knew how it would strengthen you in ways you never wanted.

The first time someone called you cold, it took you a while to realize that they were talking about you. The phrase was said so casually and lightheartedly that it sounded at first like a piece of unimportant small talk. But the whisper of cold bitch was then followed by a bout of stifled laughter and what was undoubtedly your name. Your heart stopped along with your footsteps, and you looked towards the source: two interns whose names you had yet to learn, while yours was already in their mouths.

You felt nothing until you were three stops away from your apartment, and then the bottom of the subway gave out beneath you and suddenly you were feeling everything. Only confusion, hurt, and rage at first, but then the other emotions that you’d been smothering tirelessly for who-knows-how-long tore free of their cerebral shackles too, and together they formed an amalgamation of anxiety that closed up your throat within seconds. 

As your pen studs details into a shapely jawline, you remember how you’d shoved your way off the subway and made a mad dash into the night air. You remember how you collapsed against a utility pole in an unfamiliar neighborhood, how your knuckles paled around the ashen wood, how your tears tumbled over your lips and salted your tongue. You remember wanting to go home so badly that you thought your ribcage would cave in on itself with the weight of it. You remember begging for air, for you.

By the time the oxygen had returned to your lungs, the streets were empty save for you, crouched on the curb, your face buried in your arms, spent, shattered, and alone. You were only nineteen at the time.

You are now twenty-two, and the word “cold” has become a regular guest in the lodgings of your heart. You never invite it over, but you’re no longer surprised to find it at your door. It’s a thief, swiping pieces of you when it thinks you’re not looking—a fragment above the fireplace, a scrap from the cracks between the couch—and you know whenever you’re being robbed, know that you lose parts of yourself upon its every visit. But better that than acknowledging what you lose.

You allow it to walk away with full pockets every time.

Hyunjin does not.

“Three words to describe yourself. Go,” he said a few days ago, the two of you heading back to the tour bus after a filming session. 

You were so used to these irrational inquiries of his that you didn’t bother trying to dodge this one. “You first.”

“Smart, sexy, suave,” he said immediately, but burst into a sheepish laugh at the sight of your weary glare. “Fine, fine, let me think. Ambitious, for one. Introspective, definitely—maybe overly so. And artistic. I’d like to think so, at least. Satisfied?”

The most creative person you knew doubting his own ingenuity was absurd to you, but you nodded begrudgingly. It was a good answer, for the most part.

“Now you.”

Honestly, the thief had surfaced the moment you heard the question, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to inform Hyunjin of its existence. Not because you didn’t trust him—you did, more than you had anyone in years—but because you didn’t know what you’d do with yourself if he agreed. You weren’t sure your heart would be able to take it.

When you met the boy’s gaze, though, the carob brown of his eyes was so curious and so comforting that you suspected that was never a possibility.

“Cold,” you mumbled. “I’ve been called cold before.”

There was a pregnant pause. You found yourself holding your breath. And then—

“That’s a joke, right?”

Hyunjin began to count off his fingers.

“Mean. So mean. Impossibly, infuriatingly confident. Talented, stubborn, strong. Funny, sometimes, I guess, though I’d rather you hit me with a metal pipe than admit that ever again.”

At this, you caved; a laugh erupted from your lips, leaving a genuine smile in its wake.

“Determined. Eloquent. Bossy. Some kind of evil, twisted genius. Contemplative, caring, compassionate. Fearless,” he went on. “You get my point. You’re a lot of things, Y/N, but cold isn’t one—”

He was about to say something mind-numbingly stupid. You could sense it in the air.

“—and not just because you’re hot.”

You smacked his bicep, the smile on your face now an uninhibited, helpless grin. And as he vanished into a fit of high-pitched laughter, you thought you sensed him crack open your door and slip your missing artifacts back to their rightful places.

Hyunjin began to climb into the bus, and you caught the cuff of his sleeve, your feet still planted on the pavement.

“Thank you,” you said.

The tremors of his fond chuckle traveled to your very core.

“Idiot,” he sighed softly.

Idiot, you write, and the drawings are complete. 

When you stand up, the bottle is mostly gone—and so are you. You splash some water on your face in lieu of your skincare routine and prod the inside of your mouth a few times using a dry toothbrush, and then you dive beneath your duvet and are dead asleep in minutes. Your slumber is interrupted only by dreams of a world where your theories about Hyunjin aren’t just theories.

If you’d had even one mouthful less of rosé, you might’ve remembered that you picked up your phone and opened your most recent conversation somewhere between steps two and three.

[3:10 A.M.] To: Hwang Hyunjin (Stray Kids, JYP) Audio Message.wav

Hi. I’m drunk and I’m going to regret this tomorrow. But that’s tomorrow’s business. There’s something I need to tell you tonight.

After I moved to Seoul, I used to get these bouts of homesickness. Not in a standard ‘I wanna go home’ kind of way, but in a way that felt like a hole had opened up in the ground below me. I was always ready for it to swallow me alive. I would’ve been happy for it to.

But I haven’t felt that way since I met you. I realized this not too long ago, and it threw me for a fucking loop. I’ve never felt seen the way you see me. I’ve never been known the way you know me. Every time I look at you or hear your voice, it feels so much like returning home that I don’t have to dream of it anymore.

You called me fearless the other day, but you’re wrong. I’m terrified. I’m terrified that history is going to repeat itself, that another home will slip through the cracks between my fingers and there will be nothing I can do to stop it. And that’s why I’m so hesitant towards you, towards whatever this is, because I don’t want to go through that ever again.

So the thing I need to tell you is that I care about you. I care so much that I’m scared speaking it into existence will make it real and vulnerable to all the worst parts of the world. But it’s not speaking it into existence if I’m drunk, right? Maybe I have no idea what I’m talking about. Maybe you’ll never even hear this. So it doesn’t count. That’s how that works, surely.

Sorry if this was totally nonsensical. And sorry that I’m so bad at feelings. You must think I’m impossible, and I don’t blame you.

Good night, Hyunjin. Thank you, again.

One month ago. Los Angeles, United States. 12:37 A.M.

When Hyunjin steps out of the hotel’s tall glass double doors, he’s wearing a teatree facemask, and his bags are draped over the crooks of his elbows like he’s an upper-echelon socialite on his way back from a lavish shopping spree. And then he sees you standing next to the curb, and the situation dawns on him in bits and pieces.

You’re the only one here. The vans that were supposed to take you to the airport are nowhere to be seen. Boarding begins in four minutes.

A soft flinch crimps his features. Oops.

“Tomorrow night,” you’re saying into your receiver, but your attention is on him only, your penetrative gaze putting the dead in deadpan. “The absolute earliest. You’re sure?”

When you finish listening to the manager’s response, you heave a sigh that sags your shoulders and end the call with a jab that should’ve splintered your screen protector.

Then, you start walking towards him.

“Hi,” Hyunjin says, his eyes pleading for mercy. “You are so talented and beautiful. I don’t tell you that often enough, do I?”

He expects you to grab him by the cuff of his ear again, to throw him a retort that’s twice as mean as it is witty, something along those lines. But you merely push your suitcase in his direction, and it is then when he notices that your face is hard enough to chip enamel; that your eyes are eerily, entirely empty. The tendril of warmth that’s always dancing among the subtleties of your expressions, that he’s always pursuing to the very borders of his dreamscapes, is nowhere to be seen.

A shiver travels down Hyunjin’s spine as he curls his fingers around the plastic handle.

Something’s not right.

“We’re gonna have to stay here another day,” you say. “Can you check us in? I have some calls to make.”

“Us?” Hyunjin repeats.

“Junghan could only reserve one room,” you reply, your phone already glued back to your ear. “The hotel is fully booked for the next few months.”

With that, you’re already preoccupied with the next thing, turning to the side to reschedule a meeting. But Hyunjin can only stare blankly at your profile, trying and failing to grasp that he’s going to spend a night with the subject of his every daydream. Though you might be leaning more towards the nightmare end of the spectrum at the moment, considering the way your head snaps back in his direction like a woman possessed.

Go, you mouth, and he obliges.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin is in the elevator by himself. He speculates it’s an ingenious, intentional choice that the lights are turned off, so that whoever’s inside can watch the psychedelic lights of Los Angeles sprawl further and wider the higher they go. But he can’t think of anything except for the subzero nothingness where your irises should’ve been.

Hyunjin’s initial guess was that he crossed a line with this missed plane, but the more he thinks about it the clearer it becomes that this isn’t an isolated issue. It’s the culmination of something bigger. Something continuous.

You have become as familiar to him as the lines of his eyes or the ridges of his knuckles. He’s learned where to look for your feelings when he can’t find them in your face; studied your words and the undertones of your voice like they’re verses of scripture. Yet, it was around two months ago when Hyunjin looked at your side profile and couldn’t recognize you. He’d blinked, startled, and then you’d asked why he was looking at you so strangely, and everything returned to normal. He wrote it off as a side effect of sleep deprivation and paid it no more mind that day.

Except it happened again a few days later; again, not too long after, and Hyunjin began to suspect that he was losing his mind. You didn’t seem all that different—a bit more taciturn than usual, maybe, but you’d been busier than usual, too, your workspace always full of empty coffee cups by the end of the day, the pages of your planner more colorful and crammed than ever. The minor variances never struck him as a reason for worry.

“Stupid,” Hyunjin whispers bitterly.

He replays your interaction one more time. You, shoving your suitcase against his palm, telling him to go check in. Him, fastening his hand around the handle, sensing the bottomless void within you, feeling like he’d been dismissed from before your throne.

As he steps off the elevator and walks towards your designated room, he doesn’t understand how or why—but he can’t shake the feeling that he’s failed you.

Nearly an hour passes. The room only has one bed, so Hyunjin turns off the lights, folds himself onto the armchair by the floor-to-ceiling window, drapes a complimentary robe over his shoulders, and tries to sleep. He doesn’t know why he even tries. He’s exhausted, but he knows damn well there’s no hope of him getting any rest until he has you in his proximity again.

He doesn’t look at the door when he finally hears it open, but the knot of tension in his chest comes undone as soon as your silhouette appears in the hallway. He takes out his first real breath since leaving you at the hotel’s entrance.

You hear the sound it makes. You fall still.

“Hyunjin?”

His heart physically aches at how tired you sound. “Yeah?”

“Oh, you’re awake,” you answer. “Move to the bed. You’re not sleeping on that thing.”

He remains where he is, his chin resting on the side of his fist, his eyes glued to the flickering panorama of neon lights below him. You crouch to unzip something, and there’s a heavy thud of metal meeting cloth, presumably your laptop being tossed onto the bed’s mattress.

“Hello? Did you—”

“Is everything okay?”

A short pause follows his interruption.

“I still have a few emails to write, but everything’s been rescheduled, so as long as you don’t miss tomorrow’s flight, too, we should be—”

The robe slides off his lap as he pushes himself to his feet. “That’s not what I mean.”

The only source of light in the room is the lone light above the entrance, but it’s enough for him to see your face and the surprise etched upon it. You open your mouth, utter one syllable, and stop yourself immediately after, stunned into silence by the sobriety in Hyunjin’s expression.

“Enlighten me, then,” you say finally.

“You really don’t know?”

“What is there to know? That you missed a flight and pissed me the fuck off? Trust me, I’m aware.”

“No, that’s not—”

“So what are you talking about, then? Why are you talking in riddles? Fuck, what is it that you want from me?”

There’s real frustration in your voice, and it’s the first time you’ve shown him any emotion in pure, unadulterated form. With this, Hyunjin understands that he was right; this conversation is heading towards a culmination of some kind, and so are you, with the devastating force of a natural phenomenon.

He wonders if you’re prepared to destroy yourself, too.

“I know how you are around me,” you whisper. “You’re always acting like you’re trying to unearth something, and I figure this ‘something’ must be wonderful, because you look at me like I’m made of stars; you speak to me like you’re serenading a lover. But I am constantly, ceaselessly haunted by the possibility that this ‘something’ doesn’t exist, that you’re looking for the wrong thing in the wrong person. 

“I know it’s selfish to ask for anything more than what you’ve already given me—you’re so kind, Hyunjin, and you’ve been nothing but since the day we met. But grant me one more wish, even if it is the last time you ever do.

“Tell me what you see in me,” you plead. “Otherwise, I will spend the rest of my life mourning the months of yours that you wasted on me.”

With that, it occurs to Hyunjin, falls upon and cracks open his mind like a piece of firewood, that you have never been aware of—never asked for—the throne you sit upon.

For an indeterminate amount of time, the two of you stay there, standing in silence on opposite sides of your dark hotel room. You haven’t felt anything like this in a long time, your chest heaving with your heavy breaths, your vision muddied by both the lack of light and the desperation searing through your windpipe. 

When Hyunjin finally begins to speak, his words wrest the oxygen from your lungs.

“After you moved to Seoul, you used to get these bouts of homesickness.”

Your mind careens; your heart reels. 

“They came in a way that felt like a hole had opened up in the ground below you.” He takes a tentative step towards you. “You thought it was going to swallow you alive. You would’ve been happy for it to.”

You never got to listen to your voice note. You were blacked out when you recorded it and horrified when you discovered it in your chat logs the next morning; the wretched thing was unsent so quickly that you couldn’t check for a read receipt.

But there’s not a doubt in your mind that these are your words falling from Hyunjin’s lips.

“You haven’t felt that way since you met me, though.” He is only a few feet away from you now, and getting closer still. “You’ve never felt seen the way I see you. You’ve never been known the way I know you.”

God, you said that? Did you propose to him too?

“You’re terrified that another home will slip through the cracks between your fingers and there will be nothing you can do to stop it.” Hyunjin flattens his left hand upon the drywall next to your ear; pushes you back ever-so-gently against the hard surface. “I must think you’re impossible.”

And he brings his face so, so close to yours; looks at you with so much adoration, so much tenderness, that you feel the final bulwark around your heart fracture—

“I don’t,” Hyunjin breathes, cradling your cheek, “because you’re not. And I want to prove it to you, even if it takes me the rest of my life. That’s what I see in you.”

—and crumble.

You form fists in the lining of his hoodie. Hyunjin’s hand tightens where it lays over the curve of your jaw.

When you crash your lips upon his, he tastes the metallic sheen of electricity and the salt of tearwater both; he witnesses crying lightning, for the first time in human history.

Present day. Cannes, France. 9:15 P.M.

Hyunjin never thinks when he fucks you. 

One part of it is that he physically can’t; his cognitive facilities shut down when he has you quivering beneath him, like his desire to pleasure you is too overwhelming for his mind to bear. The other part is that he doesn’t want to. He’s afraid that the voices of cynicism and trepidation that plague his mind every waking moment will taint the actualization of his wildest dreams.

Lucky for him, you manage to erase his mind on a daily basis with only one accidental touch or an apparition of a smile, so he doesn’t stand a chance whenever you let him between your legs.

“Trust me?” He whispers, imprinting the words upon the inside of your thigh.

“More than anyone,” you breathe, and just this has him tenting against his satin slacks.

Hyunjin used to see you scolding managers or moving racks twice your weight and think that was you in your element—tonight, he learned otherwise. You were so confident that even just the way you puffed your chest out prompted heads to turn and low voices to ask for your name; so charming that even by the end of your self-introduction you had every guest you spoke to eating out the palm of your hand. 

Eating out your pussy, though, is Hyunjin’s privilege alone.

He wraps his fingers around the hem of your dress and pushes it upwards, creating a halo of red fabric around your midriff; slides your panties off your legs and tosses them over his shoulder. All obstacles out of the way, Hyunjin winds his arms around your thighs and pins your hips to the mattress, slotting himself between your knees as they fall apart. Your ankles fold over the top of his head, and you’re about to ask if he’s okay like this, but then you feel the hot muscle of his tongue trace over your dripping folds—and every word of every language you’ve ever known is dispelled from your brain and your mouth in the form of a stuttered, euphoric moan.

He teases you first, drags his mouth over you so that he’s lapped up all of your slick, and just when you feel your patience thinning he pulls you apart with reverent hands and begins to suckle on your clit, as attentive to your every solicitation as always. You arch your back so high off the bed that your ankles knock Hyunjin’s head down a few inches, but the new angle is even better; grants him access to more of you.

He reinforces his grip around you, presses his torso right up against the side of the mattress, and gorges: sluices your labia until you’re spilling from his chin onto the sheets; flicks against your bundle of nerves until it’s pulsating and swollen on his mouth; fucks his tongue against your favorite spot until you’re curling your toes, seeing the whole solar system. 

“Coming,” you blabber after some time. Tell me something I don’t know, he thinks to himself. “Coming, Hyune. I’m—fuck—”

Hyunjin is aware of the way you clench so hard around nothing that your pelvis hurts. He is aware of the way you’re so dilapidated from pleasure that you’re genuinely struggling to breathe. He doesn’t care. He wants to get the cadences of your climax tattooed into the gray matter of his brain, and there can’t be rests in the sheet music, can there?

He presses a hand flat on your stomach in preparation for your body’s protest, then returns his face to its place between your thighs; starts to leave kitten licks around the edges of your puffy folds before you can finish riding out your high. You press your tongue against the back of your front teeth, emitting a pained hiss as you draw a sharp breath, tears stinging at your eyes.

“Son of a bitch—”

“Trust me?” He asks again, his voice vibrating against your sore cunt, and your complaints quiet into whimpers as you bring a hand over your quivering mouth, and nod. 

At least Hyunjin bridles his thirst the second time he eats your pussy open, his lips smacking openly and slowly over your every inch except the one that would be truly unbearable for you right now. He’s so rough and so fucking careful at once like he can’t decide between obliterating and worshipping your cunt.

He’ll end up doing both.

Within a few minutes, your legs have gone slack on either side of Hyunjin once again, and another coil has begun to tighten behind your bellybutton, equal parts pain and pleasure—but he knows your pussy just as well as he does your person by now, and it’s not long before the former is compounding with the latter.

Round two has a faster ascent and a steeper drop. He finds your spot again with the precision and ease of a trained marksman and fixates upon it like a man starved. It has your cries devolving to incoherent profanities and, to his unfettered delight, your foot actually shaking, your heel tapping against the back of his neck every time it comes down.

As if referencing a metronome, Hyunjin matches the rhythm of his tongue to your accelerando. Only when your leg is nearly convulsing does he wrap his lips back around your clit; slide two fingers into the place he leaves empty and pumps them into you until you are liquifying, igniting around him, your mewls lamenting the second orgasm he plucks from your core.

After your body has stilled, Hyunjin lifts his head, his face drenched in perspiration and saliva and you. His eyes travel over the slopes of your arms and the hills of your breasts, over the tears streaming from your eyes and staining the pillow you lie on. It is this last bit that has him shrugging off his shirt and undoing his dress pants with one hand, palming his throbbing cock with the other.

He clambers over you, and the kiss that follows is filthy, your mouth falling apart when he rolls your nipples between his fingers, strands of spit suspending between your tongues before dripping down onto your collarbone. You can sense what he wants in his craving lips, his pleading tongue—and you know he won’t ask for it. He’s tested you enough tonight; he’d rather your comfort than his pleasure.

But you guide his leaking head to your entrance, returning his stupefied look with a watery smile.

“Love me?” You ask this time, for the first time.

There is not even a nanosecond of hesitation when he answers, “with everything in me.”

He comes inside you the moment he bottoms out, your name leaving his lips in breathless, desperate repetition like a broken prayer as he topples off the same cliff he’d dropped you from moments ago. You curl a hand in his hair as he stutters against you, bring your lips flush against his ear, and whisper that you love him too—and the sight of you beneath him blurs he also starts to tear up.

This is the reality Hyunjin lives in, presumably because he was a saint in his past life, and it would be his utmost pleasure to see it through.

Two years later. Milan, Italy. 11:28 A.M.

For the last half hour, a ray of sunlight has repeatedly struck the diamond that sits between the second and third knuckle of your ring finger, and the Vogue journalist on the other side of your desk thinks he is slowly losing his vision. But when he asks his final question, your hand comes to a much-appreciated stop, the fountain pen you’ve been twirling around clattering to your tabletop.

“Where do you find your inspiration?” 

As the journalist blinks the phosphenes from his eyes, he finally manages to get a good look at the face of Versace’s newest designer, and he detects something ineffable and warm in your expression.

“My inspiration, hm?” You fall silent for a short time, thinking. “If you asked me this at the start of my career, I’d have said ‘people.’ Their postures, their expressions, their wardrobes. I knew I was a goner when I watched a fashion show for the first time and noticed how the models’ attire helped them harness their innate power and grace—I wanted to orchestrate that kind of symbiosis, too. In that aspect, nothing has changed, actually. I still find wonder in human beings, and not just the ones on the runway. I think it would be difficult not to, don’t you?

“Some time ago, a good friend of mine was having trouble with an outfit for her client. She asked me a similar question, and only then did I realize that it was no longer just people that inspired me most, but a singular person. I had always been skeptical of the idea of a ‘muse’ until I met him. But I could only spend so long denying how he ventured closer to my soul than anything ever had, how he knew me and saw me like nobody ever could. He understood my art. He was my art, so—”

Your eyes dart over your ring, and the journalist would’ve flinched out of habit if he wasn’t so mesmerized by your eloquence.

“—where better to find inspiration than inspiration himself?”

A few seconds elapse, and then you clear your throat and straighten your back, returning to your office from your trip down memory lane. 

“That’s the long answer, anyways. The short answer would be my fiancé.”

The journalist laughs, and he doubts you’ll give him this next piece of information—but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try.

“And who would that be?”

He’s right. You don’t answer the question. But you do flash him an enigmatic smile, and for some reason it reminds him of lightning.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡

#hyunjin x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz x reader #hyunjin smut #skz smut #k-labels #hyunjin imagines #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #hyunjin fluff #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #hyunjin scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids #hyunjin #*writing #*oneshot

[moonchild1]

park jimin fic rec list (Ⅲ)

woah it really has been a long time since i posted but i am so glad to be back and to get back into reading i saw so many of my favourite authors have updated and i am beyond excited to start this journey again but in the mean time here's jimin rec list as promised it was so exciting finishing this list cause i got so nostalgic making it and reading all the old fics i had on my reading list ughhh i just loved it so much and it got me back into the swing of things and i cant wait to make more lists, i do have another jjk list ready and i will post it the day after tomorrow so i hope you enjoy this one and don't forget to show all the love and support in the world to these amazing authors they work so hard to create these fics for us and they deserve endless praise and love for the commitment and generosity they have so please do leave them a comment, heart or reblog a small comment can go a long way here and can make someone smile even bigger so dont don't shy away from making someone happy... as usual you guys know this fics i recommend contain smut so minors don't interact you will be blocked... i really do love hearing from you guys so if you do have a little fic you are super into right now and you just want to rant about how amazing it is feel free to send me an ask 😊🖤

a- angst s- smut f- fluff

series

plot twist by @xpeachesncream f s a

↳ jimin isn’t interested in fake dating, but he’s definitely interested in getting to know someone the right way. after all, he feels like he’s ready to put himself out there and give it all he’s got. so, he takes a risk in trying something completely out of his comfort zone and hops on the new, popular dating app - only to come across and get to know someone he didn’t expect to meet.

a remedy for mondays by @dovechim s

↳ all you wanted was just one day off work. but for that to happen, you need to invent a plausible reason. and then somehow, somewhere along the way, things get out of hand, and now people think you’re having a baby with your co-worker Park Jimin after a one-night stand. confused? join the club.

it’s okay, that’s love by @/dovechim f s a deals with deep subjects

↳ People are constantly making some kind of connection with each other- be it friendship or romance. But human bonds always lead to messy complications; commitment, sharing, driving people to the airport, letting them get up close and personal with the darkest parts of ourselves. And sure- it’s scary as hell to watch them cross those boundaries you’ve so meticulously drawn, but it’s okay, because that’s love.

so it goes by @/dovechim f s

↳ Park Jimin knows a lot about humans. of course he does, he studies them for a living. he knows that they say hello by holding hands, and when they say goodbye, they put their arms around each other. but this particular human, he notes, is unlike the rest- stuck in a slump, going about your day praying for the Universe to stage an intervention in the form of an alien abduction. when he decides to finally fulfil your wishes, he finds that you have a little something to teach him about what it means to live life on Earth the way you do: ugly crying, underwear and all. in return, he shows you the possibilities that abound if you simply adopted their mantra: everything is beautiful, and nothing hurts.

love again by @taestefully-in-luv f s a

↳ A friend of yours is eager to introduce you to her new man but what happens when Park Jimin, the man who broke your heart 5 years ago walks in through the door?

the other woman: the seduction and the illusion by @namjooningelsewhere f s a

↳ No one told you being the other woman would never be easy, No one told you that his love would be two sides to a same coin. No one told you he came to you because you were his escape to his demons. No one told you he would always call you his, but he would never be yours. And most importantly no one told you, He never loved you because you dont destroy the people you love.

FUTURE HEARTS by @jungblue f s a ft. jjk

↳ It was everything, from his tattoos, to his touches, to the way sweat rolled down his neck as he strummed into his guitar on stage; everything about him completely enthralled you. So why are you now, two and a half years later, on a train to Seoul, telling a complete stranger the recollection of how you became fated to forever have scars on all of your future hearts due to the happiness, but most of all the pain, that came along with falling in love with Jeon Jungkook. 

after the applause by @foxymoxynoona

↳ Jimin doesn't know how he would have made it this far after the shattering of his world without the support of his thoughtful, generous, helpful neighbor. Hanbyul has lived next to hottie Jimin and his adorable daughter for years now, long enough to remember the wife he was so devoted to and lost far too young. With each safely ensconced on their side of the brick wall of the Parks' grief, it will take an enterprising little scientist to set the stage for a second chance at love.

saved by @to-star-lake s a

rockstar au deep subjects read warnings

midnight memories by @hobipaint f s a

↳ there's drunk habits, and then there's drunk mistakes. What do you call meeting your friend - no, ‘former friend’ - at a bar, getting drunk with him and sleeping- 'accidentally' - with him? especially when everyone already knows that you stay away from him as much as the day does from night?

Easy. You forget about it.

heartbreak chronicles by @sugaxjpg s

↳ Park Jimin had it all — good grades, a place as the soccer team’s captain and, more than that, the broken hearts of at least half the campus’ population. Though, one thing he did not have was someone willing to break his heart and, after you were dragged inside a miraculous plan to play that part, the last thing counted on was the preposterous idea that, perhaps, you could fall for him as well. 

drifting by@hongcherry f a

↳ After being assigned different partners for your midterm routine, your and Jimin’s relationship starts to deteriorate when you both begin spending more time away from each other and with your assigned partners instead.

growing pains by @taleasnewastime f s a

↳ Growing up the daughter of the boss of a gang is never easy, but normally the problems are around being given too many responsibilities, or the risk of being connected to a gang leader, or wanting to escape but not being able to. But you’ve got a different problem, you want more responsibility, want to be like your brother who’s been named heir, want a role in the family gang. Your whole life you’ve been denied what you want, being born a female seemingly your main issue; perceived as weak, naïve, trying to step above your station. But as unsupportive and dismissive as your family is, there is always the bright light that is Jimin; the boy you love but can never have.

tuqburni by @solastia f s a ft.myg

↳ You’ve spent two years building a life with Yoongi who you loved more than anything in the world. Now, his ex-boyfriend Jimin is back in the picture, and Yoongi begs you not to make him choose between the two of you, offering the choice of a polyamorous relationship. Though your heart is shattered, you agree.

stardust by @venusjeon f a

↳ struck by your beauty, Jimin begs to paint you naked behind the world's back so as not to stain your influential family—his patrons—with scandal.

drift by @snackhobi f s

↳ You used to think that there was nothing better than the sensation of coming first place. However, your rival- the talented, gorgeous, dangerous Park Jimin- is more than happy to prove you wrong.

the deli diaries by @jimlingss f

↳ Working at a grocery store deli is absolutely unbearable (and you’re also perfectly aware of how dramatic you are). But it seems like something, or rather, someone might make the job a bit more manageable.

best of me by @xotoosweet f a

↳ when he tells the story of how he met you in a few years, he'll claim that it was meant to be. you'll laugh and call it a coincidence. it was a coincidence that on the first day of summer semester, he decided to go on a run (though he claimed he always ran in the mornings). it was a coincidence that he chose a less traveled path in the university arboretum that morning. and it was definitely a coincidence that you were there, sitting on the rail of the river bridge.

the ten days of ex-mas by @kpopfanfictrash f s a

↳ Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling.

strip by @yoonia f s a

↳ Summary | Everything you have done has always been about surviving life and raising your child on your own. Having someone else caring about you was the last thing you had expected. Especially when that someone is the same man you have watched performing every night on stage and secretly admired. But will he run the moment he finds out about your little secret waiting at home?

falling by @/yoonia s a

↳ For Park Jimin, you are everything he will ever need—his assistant, his housekeeper, his task runner, his fairy godmother. For you, he is more than everything. You have dedicated your life for him and, before you even realised it, your heart belongs to him alone. The only problem is that he is never yours, and you are living in a world that your love for him is nothing more than a fairytale ending. As you are suddenly given a chance to wake up and face the real world, will you be ready to embrace it? Will he be ready to deal with the world without you in it?

wrapped around by @jjkfire ft. kth f s a

↳ Freshman year was a mess and sophomore year doesn’t seem to be looking too good either. You know boys like them are no good for you but maybe they’re just your kind of type

baby, baby by @hobiwonder f s a

↳ When you’ve run out of savings to continue on to the last semester of your Bachelors - you take an unorthodox route. Helping a desperate couple have a child and getting paid for it? Heck yeah. But what do you know - it wasn’t as easy as it sounds.

love at first touch by bagelswrites (ao3)

↳ The first time you meet your soulmate, it leaves a bruise on both of you at the point of contact. From then on, your body begins rejecting any sustenance other than the touch of your soulmate. The trick is, the bruises take a few hours to appear, so you have to figure out who you've touched and find them before you starve to death. But once you do, all you ever need is them. So what happens if you're an idol and you meet your soulmate at a fan event?

our little family by @nightbts f a

↳ you were living a simple life filled with simple dreams; combining your two most loved things in life, children and teaching, you were starting out your career as a teacher at the local pre-school. but little did you know, how one child and her very special father, would change your simple life into something extraordinary

one-shot 35

brand new eyes by @missgeniality s

↳ Jimin’s eyes had potential to ruin you, and tonight you test the damage.

waves by @shina913 s

↳ It's Valentine's Day and your boyfriend decides to spice things up with a little surprise for you.

failure to communicate by @gukslut s

↳ Enemies to Lovers/ College AU

physical by @ppersonna f s

↳ you cant seem to escape the sexy fitness instructor that seemingly is everywhere you turn. it’s enough to make you irrational.

good for you by @candlewaxandp0lar0ids s

↳ Jimin can’t help the way he drowns himself in you. Why should he anyway?

ho-ho-home by @jjungkookislife s a

↳ Golden neighbor extraordinaire, Park Jimin, is (unintentionally) stealing your spotlight this holiday season. Despite your one sided rivalry with him, all Jimin wants is for you to remember him, to remember your past and hopefully create a future with you.

100km/hour by @chateautae s

↳ what exactly happens when you and your friends have to pile into one car for the ride home after an insane halloween party, and you find yourself sitting in park jimin’s lap? especially when he’s dressed as an angel, and you’re in the sluttiest devil costume ever?

what it's like by @jimilter s

↳ You’ve always heard great tales about how good the infamous fuckboy on campus, Park Jimin, is in bed, and wondered if there could be any truth behind these claims when the guy looks like an angel with his cheruby cheeks and precious smiles. So when a new gossip starts to circulate about how ‘hard he hits’, you have had enough of the suspense and decide to finally sample him yourself.

feel your touch by @/jimilter f s a

↳ You have always known yourself to be a sexual switch in bed, flipping between exercising and submitting control according to different situations and partners. And this camboy you are addicted to, one that seems to kinda reciprocate your interest, submits so beautifully that you just want to command him. But when things progress to levels you never anticipated, you end up discovering pleasant surprises that might just change your life.

the prince’s cinderella syndrome by @/jimilter f s a ft jjk

↳ He shows up at Halloween, every year, dressed the same, and leaves at midnight like some Cinderella. You would think he was a prankster if his eyes didn't look like they contained all the sadness in the world. You don't know him - no one on campus does. You don't know why he appears only once a year. You don't know why he never smiles. But you can't help falling in love with him. Even if he breaks your heart when he abandons you at midnight, again.

scream your panties by @opaljm s a

↳ As your midterms have ended and Halloween has arrived, you are looking forward to a pleasant time relaxing and enjoying the festivities at your sorority and Jimin’s frat houses. Luck is not in your favor, though, because things keep going wrong like a trail of dominoes falling – the only upside to your slowly deteriorating day being that you get to end it with your boyfriend’s delicious self between your legs.

first snow, last kiss by @taeshobipop f s a

↳ He broke your heart four years ago; the old loving memories of your time together now tainted by pure betrayal. Yet in the haze of new snow, after returning home for the first time, the moments you had once convinced yourself were nothing but a lie, reveal themselves to be otherwise.

antifreeze by @winetae s

↳ Jimin participates in the school’s adaption of The Nutcracker for extra credit but doesn’t expect his new dance partner to a) be this bad at dancing and b) be this fucking cute

what she likes by @untaemedqueen f s

idol au husband au marriage au

only you by @personasintro f s a

↳  you’ve been always there for your best friend, even when he became a single dad 

sucker by @/personasintro s a

↳ You wish you'd pay more attention to Jimin. Like, how his eyes kept changing color. How cold his skin was, too unrealistically to be natural. Or one second, he flashed you with his sharp canines and the next one he didn't have any. How much he craved for you, but not the way you thought he was.

please, lie to me by @ressjeon s a

↳ "centuries of loyalty vs. only months of fucking, how could you miscalculate?"

summer synchrony by @seokkgenie f s a

↳ childhood friends to lovers

neon seoul @readyplayerhobi f s a

↳ It the city of New Seoul, another homicide isn’t newsworthy but instead just a statistic. But when the son of the mayor is murdered in an alley in a shady part of the city? Then it’s important. You and your partner, Detective Park Jimin, are given the honour of investigating the crime. Will you find out who killed him? Or will you fail?

serendipity by @btsracket s a ao3

↳ It's serendipitous. Jimin braces for darkness but finds his light instead.

the boyfriend concept by @/kpopfanfictrash s

↳ Win a Date with a Porn Star! You saw the sign when you walked in, of course, but you had no idea your friend dropped your name into the raffle. Fast-forward to later that day, when you actually win. You are horrified, of course, with no intention of accepting and setting yourself up for embarrassment. But then you meet Jimin, and decide this might be worth a shot.

Lovely Demons by @/kpopfanfictrash s a

↳ As penance for a crime committed long, long ago, the Witch Council banished you to the feared Tholoss forest. Your sentence was one hundred thousand days of solitude – or death, whichever came first. Your only hope of salvation comes from the demon names routinely sent your way; creatures who escape the inner circles of Hell and pose a threat to the mortal realms. For each demon you kill, days are removed from your sentence. For years you’ve existed, biding your time, until one morning you receive a name which throws your entire world into chaos: the name of Park Jimin, High Prince of Hell himself.

blue blood by @joonbird s a

↳ “Prince Jimin was born with blue blood. His coronation is rapidly approaching, but there are two requirements he must fulfil before becoming a king. He must have the skills to fight in battle, and he must have a Queen with blood as blue as his. You, a member of the royal guard, are assigned to teach Jimin the ins and outs of combat. You are not scared of death, of blood, or of battle. What you are scared of however, is falling in love with Jimin, the one man your blood decrees you can never have.”

i want to be with you by @oddinary4bts f s a

↳ moving to Seoul has always seemed like a good idea, until the bubble bursts when you realize your new neighbor is Park Jimin, and he's not the sweet angel you've always imagined him to be. Will the reality of Park Jimin forever be a nightmare, or will he turn into a sweet dream?

locked in love by @parkmuse f s a

↳ Getting locked in the mall on Christmas eve isn’t ideal, but getting locked in the mall with your brothers best friend that you haven’t seen in a while? Well, it might have been alright if you didn’t have feelings for him.

peaches and cream by @snackhobi s

↳ you wouldn’t mind your cute neighbour being such a shameless fuckboy if a) the walls weren’t so thin and b) he didn’t seem intent on adding you as another notch in his bedpost. 

reset by @/dovechim s

↳ We are made of the pieces of what we remember, and we hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there are memories to call our own, there can be no true loss. But Park Jimin has no such privilege. 

the dark side of the moon by @/dovechim s

↳ falling in love at first sight is cliche, not until it happens to you on a dark night in a lonely alley. but you’re only human, while Park Jimin is Alpha of his pack; it could never work out. so you resort to pining for him like a wolf howling at the moon, but when Jimin goes feral, that’s when everything changes. 

Unconditionally by @kstopping s a

↳ Jimin constantly torments you. But you love it.

Instinct by @evangelene f a

↳ A lost child appears into your life only to bring you closer Jimin–a man that you’d thought you’d hated once upon a time. Now all you want is to be there for the child, and maybe his father–but only if his mother gets the hell out of the way.

eternal sunlight by @kidguk f s a

↳ “college and soulmate au where the first words your soulmate will say to you are tattooed on your wrist. jimin thinks he met his soulmate exactly four months after he met and fell in love with you. you can’t explain your attraction or your feelings toward him, even though technically you’re meant to be with other people. taehyung and jungkook helpfully suggest that the universe might be glitching.”

foul play by @kimvtae f s a

↳ Everyone loves a good rivalry, and the students at your university are no exception. Unluckily for you, the rivalry of the decade is between yourself and a furiously irritating Park Jimin. A top gymnast and a basketball star shouldn’t cross paths, but Jimin makes his way into your heart before you can put a stop to it.

lost and found by @/kimvtae s a

↳ The only thing bigger than Park Jimin’s ass is his ego. After one too many scandals, after one too many mornings stumbling back to the dorms drunk or ruining the reputations of other idols, Jimin is given an ultimatum: complete a rehabilitation program in America or leave Bangtan.

if we were a movie by @/kimvtae f s a

↳ Friends with benefits never worked in the movies, but you and Jimin had been friends for so long, it was bound to work for you. Until, of course, Jimin gets a girlfriend, and you fear you may lose your friendship with him for good.

the pull of the tides by @goldenscript f s

↳ The expanse of the deep blue sea has always drawn you in. Each ebb and flow of the tides never ceasing to take your breath away. And now, a boy with hair as light as the morning sun and a smile just as bright does too. 

hard to say by @floralseokjin f s a

↳you've had feelings for your best friend Jimin for as long as you can remember, but you always thought they were unreciprocated. What if it turned out they weren’t...?

↬looking for pjm library or the other members check out my library

#kiki's recs #moon's recs #kiki!fic!rec #jimin #park jimin #park jimin x reader #park jimin fic recs #jimin fanfic #jimin fanfiction #bts fanfction #jimin fluff #jimin angst #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin series #jimin oneshot #jimin:fluff #jimin:smut #jimin:angst #jimin:oneshot #jimin:series #favourites!pjm #jimin drabble #jimin bts #jimin fic #bts jimin #jimin fic recs

[hoseokshobagi]

† Reborn in Sin ⸸ | Sneak peak | PJM

† Reborn in Sin ⸸ sneak peak

✞PAIRING: demon!jimin x fem!reader

✞ 【SUMMARY】: for years jimin was your constant and loyal companion in the church, a shining example of humility and compassion. but when he was tragically taken from the world before he could experience life, his heart was filled with anger and resentment. and so, in a moment of weakness, he struck a deal with the devil, trading his soul for a second chance at life. but when he returned, he was no longer your kind and devoted boy you once knew.

✞ 『GENRE』: dark ✟ supernatural ✟ fantasy ✟ angst ✟ smut

✞ RATING: 18+ / minors do not interact

✞ WORD COUNT: loading...

✞ [WARNINGS/TAGS] : dead dove, dark, death, manipulation, corruption (kink?), church & religion, blasphemy & desecration, [oral(m) - not with reader, headpusher jimin, face fucking, spit play], dirty talk, humiliation, degradation, dubcon, public fingering, exhibitionism, sexual "nightmares" & hallucinations, mind games, jimin is the worst & the BIGGEST warning!!!!, oral(f), cunt drunk jimin, unprotected sex, rough sex, orgasm denial, edging, overstimulation, unrealistic amount of cum lmao, cum play, betrayal, mind break

✞ NOTE: hi beautiful people!!! this story was written for the @btsfests writing fest. actually this is the first time i publish my writing and omg ahcbdjs i'm so nervous while writing this note. i always wrote for myself and my closest friends but thanks to bts fests and their never ending encouraging words i decided to show off my writing. this little part is the reason why i started writing this whole story and i hope you'll like it just as much as i enjoyed writing every word. :] this demon jimin is the most cunty & selfish character i've written so far so yall better prepare yourselves ajfnsjxnsjs

english is not my native language, but despite that i'll write and communicate in english. please if you see an error in my writing or grammar lmk!! <3

my dearest beta read: @liveyun 🐢♡

COMING SOON

❗this is the darkest fic i've ever written so please read all the warnings before reading❗

The delicate chimes of the church bell echoed softly through the cavernous rafters, casting an unsettling shadow over Jimin’s mind. Like ghostly whispers emanating from the very walls and pillars of the church, the sounds seemed to taunt him. Whispering to him that he no longer belonged in this sacred space.  

He couldn’t believe how he used to devour Father Seokjin’s every word, eagerly drinking up his sermons like it was the finest wine he ever tasted. In this very church, where he had spent countless hours sitting in the pews, Jimin felt like a stranger in the world he once called home.   

He looked to his left and gazed upon the sweet, delicate flower — the very reason why he was there. Innocence shining in your eyes, your eyelashes fluttered like the softest butterfly wings. Sitting next to him with hands clasped tightly together in your lap, you looked as pure as new snow, listening to the mass.  

Oh, how much he forced himself to resist the urge to reach out and ruin you right then and there. To feel the delicate petals of your innocence as they crumpled beneath his fingers. But he was going to do so slowly, savoring every moment of your fall from grace.   

So, he grit his teeth and forced himself to endure the priest’s words and the choir’s music, at least, for a while.   

Despite his best efforts, this place was as dull and lifeless as the stones that made up its walls. He spent half of his life trapped within these confines, he knew every creak of the floorboards, every flicker of light, every word and phrase of the Bible that was engraved in his mind, the product of countless wasted years.  

Jimin raised a hand to his face, tracing each perfect curve of his newly manicured nails, scrutinizing them from every angle. He raised an eyebrow in anticipation, marveling at Hoseok’s handiwork.  

He couldn’t wait to make another deal with the bastard later.  

You noticed his attention was drifting and Jimin’s reverie was broken by a gentle tap on his shoulder, causing his thoughts to come crashing down around him like a house of cards. He turned to see your confused eyes peering up at him, your delicate lips murmuring a soft “pray”.   

He couldn’t help but mentally roll his eyes. Oh, you were so annoying. He was going to make you pay for all the stress and frustration that he had to go through and endure because of you.   

Jimin lowered his head and with a deep breath, closed his eyes, pretending as if he was lost in prayer, his mind far from it. Wandering anywhere but there.  

As you finally turned back to offer your own prayers, he couldn’t resist and raised his eyes, glancing back at you.  

And he was so fucked.   

You were a sight to behold, more divine than the sacred paintings that adorned the walls of this church.  

As your eyes drifted shut, your lashes like feathers of a sleeping bird, delicately brushed the curves of your eyes. The soft radiance of the lights danced upon your face, creating a tender veil of shadows that caressed your skin.   

Your lips moved in silent devotion as you murmured in such sincerity, clutching the Holy Book tightly in your hands. And he swears, he could feel his dick twitch just at the sight.   

You were so breakable, so vulnerable and so fucking beautiful.   

Yeah, he was so fucked. So lost in you.   

Park’s burning desires had been building to a crescendo in the last few days, a boiling point that seemed to threaten to engulf him whole. He felt like his longing for you was an aching fire that was on the verge of exploding. The mere sight of you at the church was a powerful trigger to him, fanning the flames for this fire.   

And he thought it was ridiculous.   

He couldn’t believe how he couldn’t control himself, his body yearning for yours, needing to stain the purity of your grace, to spread his sin all around your soul. To corrupt the sacredness of who you were with the foulness of who he had become.  

He glanced around and took in the sights and sounds of the church, noticing that everyone was enraptured by the mass. Their focus was solely on the priest at the cathedral, their attention directed nowhere else.   

With a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, he slipped closer to you and your sweet scent filled his nostrils; making him feel intoxicated. He knew exactly what he had to do; a little play won’t hurt anyone.  

Jimin’s touch was like a gentle caress of a summer breeze, soft and tender, caressing your skin like the lightest of kisses. Your eyes flicked open, searching for the source of such unexpected warmth.   

And there he was, with his legs crossed, - his gaze fixed on you with such intensity that always made your cheeks warm for some reason – one arm resting comfortably on his elbow on the church pew, the other continuing to idly play with the soft fabric of your long skirt.   

You never wore anything revealing; preferring modesty over anything else, however this time, you felt utterly exposed as his eyes roamed over your form like that. Jimin always enjoyed this, stripping away your layers one by one, revealing the true you that lay beneath.  

Slowly he drew near, his aura spreading like a thick mist, wrapping around you. The scent of his cologne swirled around as his body pressed against yours, his knee gently nudging yours. His warm breath brushed against your cheeks, like the caress of a dead night.   

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Keep praying." You looked at his hand, still playing with your skirt, unsure of what to say. Jimin’s voice was calm and soft, yet, there was something about his dark eyes that made you feel uneasy. Like he was biding his time, planning his next move.   

It clearly made you uncomfortable, but you were too naive to say anything, too afraid to speak your mind, not to mention that you were sure Jimin would never do anything wrong, so you turned back again and closed your eyes to pray.   

But what you didn’t know was that you were already entangled by the snake’s coils; Jimin waited for the moment when you would break. He was so curious, so eager to see just how far you would go, how much you would endure before you finally stepped up and told him to stop.  

Would you wrench his hand away? Would you yell at him? Would you make a scene in the middle of the church? He knew you wouldn’t, knew you were just too gentle and too timid to disrespect your favorite little church.   

And so, he kept pushing, pushing your boundaries and invading your personal space, inch by inch, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in the wake of his touch.  

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, trying desperately to break free from his touch, but he only tightened his grip, making your heart race with a mixture of fear and uncertainty.  

"Jimin, can you please stop?" Oh, that was it. Your question was hardly above a whisper, as though afraid of you would be heard by those around you. The snake’s grip finally ensnared his delicate, little flower and he had no intention of stopping.  

„Keep it down. You wouldn’t wanna disturb the praying souls now, would you?”   

A devilish smirk played on his lips, eyes like black holes bearing down at you. His voice was like honey dripping from his lips; so soft and alluring. A stark contrast to the real meaning behind his words and actions. He continued to run his hand up your thigh, pushing your long skirt higher and higher until it was bunched around your waist.  

"Jimin, st—" His other hand slithered around from the back of your neck, forcefully covering your mouth, silencing any words that wanted to escape your lips. Whatever you tried to say it came out muffled by his hand, leaving you feeling panicked and completely helpless.   

You grasped at the material like a lifeline, desperate to pull it back down, but Jimin’s arm was like a steel barricade, preventing you from covering yourself. You felt trapped, your body burning with the shame of exposure. 

 "I said keep your mouth shut. We don’t want others to see you like this, do we?"

Your breath caught in your throat, unable to escape as the fear of being discovered and shamed in front of everyone took over. All you could do was fix your gaze on Jimin’s intense, brooding eyes, silently pleading for mercy with your own desperate ones. Ah, so pretty for him.  

As you gazed into the depths of his dark eyes, the windows to his no longer existing a soul, you revealed a darkness that engulfed you, and you knew there was no escape.  

You were at his mercy, and he had none. 

Jimin’s pupils dilated at the sight, your skin was soft and flawless, causing a shiver to run down his spine as he gently touched you. The delicate fabric of your white panties teased him, giving him just a glimpse of what was hidden underneath.   

With a playful twinkle in his eyes, he lazily played with the tiny, little, pink bow adorning the center of your panties. His actions were a clear taunt, a display of the control he had over you and your vulnerabilities.  

It was clear you wanted to push him away, to scold him, yell at him, but he knew the fear of causing a scene in church held you back. You tried to glance around nervously, hoping no one would notice what was happening.   

The world seemed to come to a standstill, the only thing that existed was the fast, thumping beat of your heart as Jimin’s hand slithered closer and closer to the place where it had no business being. You felt trapped, your body frozen, unable to break free as if you were held captive by a coiled serpent;  its grip tightening with each struggle. The sound of your unsteady breaths filled the air, the only thing grounding you in reality, that, and the heat from his touch, because this serpent was crafted from the finest satin. 

„Shh, baby, it’s okay. It’s okay, keep praying so God won’t mind, yeah?”   

His words made you paralyzed, like a spell, breaking you down. Words like those should never have left the lips of the kind and caring Jimin that you thought you knew. Your mind was reeling with shock and pain, struggling to make sense of how someone you had trusted completely could suddenly become a stranger. Jimin’s actions were like a knife to your heart, a stab that pierced through the trust you had placed in him.   

With the grace of a feather dancing on skin, Jimin traced his fingers over your clothed clit, making you tremble beneath his touch. A soft gasp escaped your lips, your eyes widening as you felt the weight of the moment sinking in.  

And he chuckled softly, a low rumble that only you could hear, taking your response as a cue, he increased the pressure. His skilled fingers now applied a firm yet tender touch, coaxing your body to new heights of pleasure, and your body tingled in response, betraying you by a throbbing ache that grew stronger with every touch.  

As the ripples of pleasure swirled within you, you tried to pull back, to resist the sin that was happening in the very place where you sought solace and salvation. The guilt gnawed at your soul, the snake’s venom that seeped into every crevice, tainting the flower’s beauty.   

And yet, Jimin reveled in your pain, basking in the darkness of your suffering as he watched the guilt consume you whole. The venom of your remorse was a feast for his senses; the holy wine, the sweetest elixir to be savored with every devious sip.  

"Look, what do we have in here." He pressed his thumb against the dark spot on your panties, causing you to shiver. For him, the sensations of your wetness seeping through the fabric was like an euphoric rush, the sweet nectar of his delicate flower, intoxicating and irresistible.  

Heat spread across your cheeks, horror and shame washing over you at his words, you shook your head, tried to move, tried to tell him to stop, but you found yourself lost in his eyes, searching for any sign of the person you once knew. But all you saw was darkness, a void that seemed to swallow you whole.  

"Deny it if you want, baby, but aren’t you a nasty girl? You’re fucking soaking."

And it was true. Your body felt like it was betraying you, and you were mortified. He ignited a fire within you that you couldn’t deny. A soft cry slipped from your lips, but you couldn’t bear to face him, knowing that you were powerless in his grasp.  

You were unable to believe what was happening. As someone who had always followed the Catholic faith and held its teachings in high regard, there you were, in this sacred place, allowing something so forbidden to take place.  

But as his fingers slipped under the fabric of your panties, your mind went blank. The back of Jimin’s hand clung to your sticky panties as his fingers found their way down to your folds, the feeling making him shiver. 

„Fuck— you’re so wet, can’t wait to feel you around me.”   

You squeezed your lips together under Jimin’s hand to keep from making any noise, your eyes squeezed shut, tears threatened to spill down your cheeks as his wet fingers continued to rub and spread your folds apart, smearing your sticky arousal all over your cunt.  

„Shh, this won’t make you a sinner baby, it’s okay. You won’t mind just one finger inside, yeah?” His middle finger probed at your entrance, teasing it, making it wetter still, as he slowly pushed in.  

„Y-yeah baby— just one finger?” He teased and removed his finger, making you clench around thin air, and Jimin swears, the feeling made him twitch inside his pants. Teasing you – or himself, it didn’t matter anymore – he plunged back in, tauntingly slow. 

Jimin’s eyes rolled to the back of his skull, his hard dick pressing firmly against his pants, yearning for release. To him this is how true Paradise felt like, the feeling of your silk walls wrapped around his digit.   

He was about to lose it. 

He bottomed his finger out inside you, knuckle deep, until his small 13 tattoo on his wrist met with your lower abdomen. 

But he craved more. Fuck, how much he wanted to slam you against the pew and spread your thighs wide open, stretching your pretty little pussy right out with his dick. And who could blame him with the way your cunt gripped on his one single digit like that, dripping wet and sinfully warm. 

But he couldn’t— not now. And it made him crazy. 

You sank into the pew, your body trembling as he started to move his finger, his other hand still covering your mouth to keep you quiet. Every part of you was on fire, your mind and body in a constant battle between desire and shame. You were supposed to stop him, to push him away, but all you could manage was tremble and it made your eyes water. 

It was a mixture of remorse and the burning desire pounding between your thighs; something you had never experienced before and something you knew you shouldn’t have felt at all in this holy place. And more likely you should’ve never clenched harder around Jimin’s finger when you heard the small shudder in each breath he took. 

"Ahh baby—" The faint, breathy little whimper shattered his voice. "fuck.. you’re so perfect… so f-fucking perfect." 

Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath shallow and ragged, mirroring the rhythm of his finger. With his warm breath tickling your ear, his whispered words were barely audible, but they still managed to send shivers down your spine.  

"Ooh, h-how I wish to see this perfect fucking pussy."   

Jimin couldn’t take his eyes off of you as he watched your face intently, committing every single feature and expression to his memory. The way your brows were furrowed in pleasure, the way you fought to keep your eyes open due to the sensitivity. 

He couldn’t help but admire the way your chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, the way you tried to stifle your moans under his hand, and the way your juices flowed from your aching cunt.  

You were a captivating sight, sinful and alluring, flesh heated and glistening with arousal, and he knew you couldn’t deny it even though you tried. Your trembling body and the slickness on his fingers were evidence of the truth.  

He slowly added a second finger, stretching you open further and moving faster, his fingers stroking your sensitive spot, sending waves of pleasure through you. With every stroke, you felt your body weakening, and your thoughts began to succumb to the corrupting pleasure.  

Despite your protests, your body responded eagerly, arching towards him in a desperate plea for more;  seeking more of the exquisite pleasure he was giving you.  

You never felt so conflicted in your entire life, your mind was a battlefield; torn between your beliefs and the undeniable pleasure that was now coursing through your veins. Every creak of the old wooden pews felt like a judgment, a cruel reminder that you were committing a sin that would send you to the depths of damnation.  

But when Jimin serendipitously grazed your swollen clit with his thumb, your mind went blank. You’d lost it.  

Your hips involuntarily jerked against his hand, unable to contain the overwhelming pleasure. You gritted your teeth, determined to keep your cries of ecstasy at bay, but it was a dead effort as you squirmed and moaned, muffled by his hand covering your mouth.  

"Fuck— Don’t moan like that, you’re getting too loud, keep quiet."  

But you couldn’t. It was as if your head was spinning, unable to focus on anything except the pleasure. The way he slid his fingers in and out of you, his thumb perfectly stimulating your clit, it was too much.  

Despite your efforts, you couldn’t contain the small moans that escaped your lips. The church was now just a blur in the background, the stained glass windows casting kaleidoscopic patterns on the floor.  

"Shit, baby, keep fucking quiet or do you want me to slip those fucking panties off and stuff them in your mouth, hm?" Jimin’s whispered words sent shivers down your spine, making you clasp around his fingers right back in. 

"Y-yeah, you want that baby? My nasty girl, s-so good... so fucking perfect." He moved his fingers faster, his thumb circling deliciously on your clit, building up the pace for your climax, your body crying out for release. And oh, how he reveled in it, savoring every moment, every sensation as his little flower finally opened its petals to him. 

"You’re so close, baby, f-fuck— just let go, let me take you there."  

As Jimin’s fingers brought you closer and closer to the brink, you couldn’t help but give in, feeling all the guilt and shame wash away in the face of the intense pleasure you were feeling.  

„Ooh, fuck— Y-yeah, baby, go on. Come all over my fucking fingers.” 

Just as you were about to reach the peak, a sudden thud broke through the lustful haze. Your tear-filled eyes fluttered open and you glanced up to the top of the church’s gallery, where you saw the organ player, Mr. Min sprawled on the ground at the bottom of the stairs, amidst a sea of fallen notes.  

In that moment, time seemed to stand still as your eyes met his, and you saw the shock and disbelief on his once serene face.  

Your heart plummeted like a falling star, sinking into the depths of your stomach as you realized what you must look like to Mr. Min. Your cheeks burned with the heat of a thousand suns as you met his gaze, his face a canvas of flushed embarrassment, crushing you with shame and guilt. 

For in the eyes of Mr. Min, you were no other, but a sinner caught in the act of sin in the house of the divine. And as the notes of the holy music lay scattered at his feet, you couldn’t help but wonder if they were a reflection of your shattered innocence.  

Mr. Min quickly ascended the stairs to the organ, his emotions were in disarray, a tumultuous blend of arousal and embarrassment. With each step, he tried to push away the image of what he had just seen, but it lingered like a haunting melody in his mind.  

His cheeks burned with shame, but he couldn’t help stealing a glance at you before he reached the top of the stairs, his feline eyes burning you whole.  

Exposed and vulnerable, you were unable to look at the organ player in the eyes anymore. You closed your eyes tight in an attempt to block out the intensity of his gaze. But even with your eyes shut, you could feel his feline eyes looking down at you.  

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the image, Jimin’s skillful fingers never faltered to move inside you, your body feeling like it was exploding. A soft whimper escaped your lips, which got silenced by his firm grasp.  

With each second you felt yourself surrendering to the overwhelming ecstasy.  

As you teetered on the edge, ready to fall into the abyss of pleasure, you were suddenly jolted back to reality, finding yourself next to Jimin who was kneeling humbly on the wooden pew of the church, praying.   

With eyes wide open, heated cheeks and heavy breathing you gazed at your own clasped hands on the pew.  

Was this all in your head? How could you have let your mind wander to sinful desires in the sacred walls of the church?   

Jimin’s innocent devotion to his God only amplified your own guilt, making you feel like a fallen angel in the presence of his pure soul.  

Jimin couldn’t help but smirk, he bit the inside of his cheek, but it didn’t help hiding it. He moved his clasped hands toward his mouth to hide the devilish smirk that appeared on his lips. 

For he knew the power he held over you, the power to seduce and corrupt your very being. And with each passing day he was one step closer to claiming your body and soul for his own. 

And as you sat there, lost in a whirlwind of emotions, Jimin continued to pray, his facade of innocence masking the devilish intentions that lurked within. 

#bts scenarios #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #jimin fanfic #jimin scenarios #jimin smut #jimin x reader #park jimin x reader #bts x reader #park jimin fanfic #btsfests #park jimin smut

[myouicieloz]

Love me back

Yoo Jimin x university student!reader

Synopsis: she wants to let go. you need her to let go. none of you can.

Warnings: nsfw. smut. biting. angsty I guess.

Word count: 2.5k

Notes: my darlings <3

Karina didn’t turn to look when you sat beside her in the park. She knew who it was. She called you herself, not many minutes ago.

Hey

Ik we’re fighting, but could you come, please?

An address. Another message, too, after a few minutes. Almost as if she were wary of sending it.

It’s cold.

You stared at your phone as the bubble kept going on and off in your conversation, until it stopped. Finally, she’d decided. About that, at least.

And I miss you

Needless to say, you went to meet her. You’d never deny her anything, no matter how much you wanted to. No matter how much she deserved so.

You found her sitting on a wooden bench, staring at the lake with a red nose and cold hands. You could tell she was freezing, even with the thick jacket she wore, yet you didn’t move to take yours off and offer it to her. No, you two were long past this.

“I’ve had a stressful week.” She sighed, hiding her face in her hands. Like the usual, she didn’t directly acknowledge you, and you knew why. You’ve been doing this long enough to know that this was all you meant to her: an escape.

A distraction, if you were lucky enough.

“You always do.” Your words were as apathetic as your face, serious as you shove your hands into your pockets, trying to suppress a shiver yourself. It was freezing cold indeed, so whatever it was that had Karina pissed must’ve been something serious, to have her out of the dorms so late at night.

You were curious, although not curious enough to give in just yet. After moments of waiting for her to say something, anything, you rolled your eyes, sitting beside her on the wooden bench. She closed hers, depriving herself of the grand view of the river, and rested her head on the crook of your neck. You allowed her to do so, naturally.

There’s very little you’d not let her do to you.

“Aren’t you tired of this?”

“No.” Her answer is immediate, steam coming from the heavy breath she’d let out. “I could never get tired of you.”

Perhaps she was truthful in her words. You loved her, and you knew she loved you too, in her own way. It would never work out: with her being an idol, famous and successful, and you being just a university student. You were aware of that, and it was the reason you promised yourself to not answer her calls, whenever she reached out for you; you’d only get hurt, in the end — the right thing to do would be to end it, to protect yourself and your feelings.

However, as much as she did mean the empty promises she gave you, Karina knew just what to say to lure you in. Not just your body, the idol knew your soul too well. Her words were, most of the time, carefully calculated to break out your boundaries and get you to do whatever it was that she wanted you to. Even though you knew her tricks, you couldn’t help but to fall into her web every time.

She sighed, shrinking as she hummed against your neck, sniffing your perfume. Still the one she’d given you on your birthday, she was pleased to note. “Can I go to your house?”

Her voice was just as small and quiet as she made herself be, hugging her knees under the moonlight. Even in all her confidence, she was still a bit wary; afraid this would be the day you finally realized she was too damaging to you. She’s deeply afraid you’d leave her. She loves you — it’s complicated, but oh, how she does. She can’t fathom losing you.

“Not to talk, I assume.” Your tone, usually playful, was still serious. Karina moved her head from you, urging to be able to look in your face. Your beautiful face, kind and sweet and made to love her, staring at her with a blank expression — much different from the look of love you had before.

But that was ages ago, when you were both naive and pure, not at all ruined by the idol world. After all, generally, love is not enough.

The older girl shook her head, carefully observing your actions. “No, not to talk.”

You sighed. Unfortunately, you couldn’t help it: Karina was a siren, the holy sounds of her moans luring you in until you found yourself so deep in the water there was no other option but to drown.

You were, indeed, so exhausted of this cycle. One of her calling you solemnly when she wanted to rant or fuck until she was spaced out enough to forget her problems away for a few hours. She didn’t show any interest in your likings, your hobbies, or your friends. It was crystal clear that you were nothing but a stress relief to her.

Still, you were weak. Unfortunately, you loved Karina wholeheartedly, and you were eager to get whatever she wanted to give to you, no matter how much your logic was against it. How could you not? The sex was too good.

Aware of that, you got up, still refusing to display any emotions once you started walking, knowing she’d follow.

-

There is no warmth in your kiss. You bumped into the sofa, hurrying to the bedroom without separating your mouth from Karina’s. Her clothes were nearly ripped off her body, her sharp fingers doing the same with yours. It’s been too long since you had touched her pale, soft skin — you feel such lust for her in your heart, you nearly suffocate. Your desire for her body —for the little she gives you, it all drives you insane. It isn’t healthy, being on her will 24/7 and bending to all her wishes, but again, you can’t help it. She’s lured you in.

You positioned yourself between her legs, moving her long, raven hair from her face so you’d be able to stare at her properly. She looked flawless, impeccable, and waiting for you to take whatever you wanted to. It was just how she was: you could take and take, yet she’d never give you what you truly wanted.

Pretty girl with a pretty mind and a rotten soul, every sacred inch of her curves sculptured to leave you damned. To hurt you.

You sighed, biting her lips, then her skin. You loved to see your artwork on her— almost like a small victory. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to hurt.” She breathed deeply, hot moans coming from her mouth as you placed slow, wet kisses on her neck. “I deserve it.”

Kissing the space between her chest, you, murmur. “I’ve dreamed about being able to do so many times. Unfortunately, I can’t. I fucking can’t.”

She ignored your words, pulling you in for another messy kiss.

Karina always promised herself she’d stop reaching out to you. She knew you’d always give her attention, and part of her truly wished she could stop hurting you. She had never intended to. But she was also weak, and she needed you too much. How could she let go of you, when you were the only person who knew the real her? You’re the keeper of her dreams, her insecurities, her deep, darkest fears.

“You should.” Her voice had no trace of humor, as she traced her sharp nails through your jaw, forcing your mouth open. You knew her well enough to recognize the silent mocking, silently glad for your lack of self-respect.

For the sake of peace, you chose to ignore her words. Getting up, you delighted yourself with the way her eyes ravished your body, not at all in a rush while you got the strap she’s used to. She gulped, her mouth watering at the sight presented to her: how beautiful you were, all hers. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t true: you’d always go back to her, in the late hours of the night. She’d just have to call, and you’d drop everything and go.

As it should be.

Back in bed, you spat, spreading your saliva over the plastic toy. Karina had already knelt, salivating in front of you. Your hands grabbed a hold of her hair, shoving her face onto it rather harshly. “Take it.”

And oh, she did. Karina was eager, sucking and mixing your saliva with hers as she took it all in, the silicone gagging her throat and your grip not getting any weaker, forcing her to allow her mouth be fucked even when she started to get dizzy, dark dots appearing in her vision due to the lack of breathing. Only then, you let her go, watching her recompose herself.

“Very good. How much do you want it?” You teased, tone still serious, groping her thin waist until your fingerprints could be seen, reddening her impeccable porcelain skin. Her pretty ass was begging to be bruised, slapped all over, so you did as such.

Karina’s response came from her body, before she could even forge the words to answer you. Her back arched, and lewd, loud moans immediately left her mouth.

“Too m-much.” She gasped, whining once the strap met her entrance, not entering her properly. “Y/n… give me it all, p-please.” Karina pushed her hips back, trying to get you to be quicker.

Ever so impatient, as always. Never in the mood to play your games; they were of no interest to her.

Still, you did not give in, brushing her wet cunt as you pleased, giving her just the tip before pulling it out once again. You felt how hot and desperate she was, which made you hum in pleasure, too. At least she was suffering, in a way.

“Please, my Y/n. I’ll do everything, I promise.” She begged, little tears prickling from her eyes. “Everything you want, I swear. I’ll give you anything. A new laptop, jewels, a car, just say it but please, p-please…” Her pleads got even louder, self-control wearing thin.

It hurt— no, it maddened you to know she thought she could buy you with superficial things. You’ve never asked for any of those, not even when you were (unofficially) together. You’ve never wanted anything but her love. She’d never understand that.

It made you crazy, upset and so damn pissed off that she couldn’t see so.

Huffing, you pushed her down on the bed, entering her whole with your cock’s full length without giving her any time to adjust. It was rough, without a care— just how Karina liked the most.

Your roommates were away for the weekend, thankfully. Karina has always been a vocal mess, specially in bed, but it was obvious her current routine was taking a toll on her; her moans were sinful, the incoherent mumbles she let out making them close to screams, and she was so responsive. Her entire body twitched whenever you’d place your mouth on her skin.

Sucking her lips, then her neck, and oh, she nearly came in the spot when you started biting. Bruising her arms, her abdomen, her waist— your favorite place to mark her. She’d wear your hickeys proudly, smiling and mumbling about how clumsy she had been during rehearsals whenever somebody asked her about it, brushing off their concern.

It was all too much: your bite marks, mouth so hot on top of her, making sure no place was left unattended, paired with your thrusts, hard and fast, her grasps being how much she could breathe in between. Filling her up, adoring her so much.

She loved this.

“Y-you’re the best, my Y/n.” She let out, her body bumping against the mattress. Being loved by you was her favorite thing, she recalled. How could she have ever forgotten about it?

You bit your lip to keep yourself from saying something you’d regret.

“I hate you, for being so pretty.” You told Karina, pinching and twisting her nipples as you thrusted into her, hard and fast. She rolled her eyes, clearly too lost in her pleasure to give your thoughts any attention. You turned her around, eager to be presented with her pretty ass, wiggling with the thrusting motions. You gave it a single slap, a loud whine being followed from the older girl. “I hate you for not loving me back.” You held her by the hips, angling higher so you could reach her g-spot. “And I hate myself for loving you so much.”

Your words, even though they didn’t make much sense in Karina’s current fucked out mind, along with your movements and stimulations, were more than enough to have her reach her high. Letting out a high-pitched cry, Karina came, holding your arms tightly in attempts to not fall apart. You let her do so, assuring she went back to her senses before you could let your body fall beside her, the strap that hung on your hips latched on the ground.

“Will you ever give me anything more than that? More than hiding and being nothing more than a late night fuck?” You asked, straight to the point.

A year ago, you wouldn’t have had the guts to ask such a question. You lacked confidence, and you feared she’d disappear if you such as mentioned whatever it was that you two had.

Not anymore, though. Even more than insecure, you were tired; you couldn’t endure your situation anymore. A few days before her call, you’d made peace with the thought of not having her to yourself anymore. It would be harsh, but it was the best for you. You deserved better.

Even if you would never love anyone more than you loved her.

Karina stayed silent, looking down onto the covers. It’s enough answer for you. Sighing, you got up, handing her clothes and gesturing to the door.

“Then go elsewhere to get whatever you want, next time. Let me be free, Karina, please.” You hated yourself for sounding so miserable, the crack in your tone serving as clear evidence of how hurt you were. You loved her so much, but you couldn’t do this any longer. You needed more.

And Karina, even with all the confidence, money, and influence she had, could never give you such a thing.

She took the cue, doing as told. Her eyes— her big, dark, sad eyes stared at you quietly, and she opened her mouth to say something. After minutes of waiting, though, she doesn’t. Still silent, Karina left, launching you a last sad, pitiful look.

She was a mess; a beautiful, doomed angel, trapped in an industry that saw her as nothing less than a product, made to make money out of, until she was worn out. She struggled, naturally. It was a cruel place, one where people cared very little about her well-being and her actually feelings.

However, Karina was not yours to worry about anymore. Never was, for a fact.

#s.writes #kpop x reader #kpop smut #kpop x y/n #aespa x fem reader #aespa x you #aespa smut #karina aespa smut #karina x reader #karina smut #yoo jimin x reader #yoo jimin smut #karina angst #aespa angst #yoo jimin angst

[justanotherarmyfangirl]

In Heat! 4/7

They're in heat, and you smell so hot...

Warning: 18+ smut, noncon, hybrid!bts, snake-hybrid!jimin x human!reader, dark yandere, Jimin is a stalker, and kinda a psycho, corruption, somnophilia, biting, paralysis, technically its not tentacles but I meannnn 👀 lemme just warn you in advance YOU CAN'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU, Jimin has two penises because snake???

Slithering, he moves closer.

The snake watches as you sleep, inching towards your bed. He lifts his head up, tilting it curiously towards your outstretched arm, right by your hand lying over the edge of your bed as you sleep peacefully. The snake hybrid moves closer, slithering back and forth, left and right until he's wrapped himself around your slender fingers, closer, closer, around your wrist, forked tongue licking the faint outline of the vein in your arm, he's so tempted to pierce his fangs into you.

He slithers under your blanket, into your sheets, moving across your body as you shift in your slumber.

His cold snake form enjoys the warmth of your bed, of your heat. He moves across your thighs, curiously exploring his surroundings, over and under, until he settles himself right under your night shirt, in between your breasts, resting his head on your clavicle.

As you breathe in, he moves slowly across your chest, until he's comfortably wrapped around you and satisfied.

The snake hybrid has done this every night since he first met you, getting comfortable with your body, learning what you like most.

It is your luck, or perhaps your unluck that he's patient and enjoys the slow exploration into your world.

---

"Hey Jimin."

"Hey, y/n."

Your neighbor smiles wide, holding the door to your apartment building open. "Let me help."

"Oh! Thank you!" you stumble into him as he lifts the heavy weight in your hands, taking your grocery bags.

You stutter out your apologies as your body knocks into his frame clumsily. Jimin laughs heartily, only making you fluster even more.

Ever since you've moved into this area, your new neighbor has been so helpful and kind to you. Yet however many times it's been now, his attention continues to make your legs buckle.

What is it about your next door neighbor Jimin that makes you a stuttering mess? Is it his charming smile? His silky voice? His beautiful features? The way he steadies you with the softest touch while he manages to hold your bags easily?

He's just so...perfect.

"You okay?" He looks towards you, a smile curling up at the way you stare at him entranced.

"Huh? What? Yes, right, I'm f-fine," you stutter, jumping into action and rushing towards the elevator.

You stand in awkward silence as the elevator doors close. "Let me help," you felt bad having Jimin carry all your groceries. You try to grab at least a couple bags to lessen his load, but Jimin moves gracefully to the side and out of your reach, tsking.

"It'ss okay, I'm stronger than I look," he teases.

"You look strong. I think you look strong! I mean, you are strong, that’s obvious..." you laugh nervously.

“Obviousss?” His smile widens. “You have to pussh the floor number.”

“Right!” You press it a couple times out of your nervousness.

What is wrong with you? Why do you always have to embarrass yourself in front of Jimin? Why must you always act so stupid in front of your crushes?

Ever since you were a kid it's been like this, you would have hoped with age you would have gained some wisdom on the matter, and you had gotten better at overcoming your awkwardness, but there's something about your neighbor that makes you so jittery, makes your heart race and palms sweat and your body react in the most mortifying ways...

You wipe your forehead, looking away as the elevator rises higher and higher. It's hot in here, isn't it? It's stuffy. You're sweating like you're under the sun when you're only under Jimin's gaze. You fear you might even pass out if he keeps looking at you like that.

Ding.

You rush forward, pulling out your keys and racing to your apartment door. "Thank y-you-" Jimin walks in, right into the kitchen and sets the bags on the counter. "You don't have to do that!" But Jimin is already opening your fridge and putting away your groceries for you.

"Sssoooo...what are you making for dinner?" he asks.

"Oh! I was thinking pasta?" You grab one of the tomato cans before he puts it away, smiling shyly. Jimin shuffles closer to you, reaching behind you to open the cabinet and putting your coffee away on the highest shelf.

You try to move away to give him space, but you're trapped against his body, trying unsuccessfully to steady your heartrate the closer he moves.

"I looove passta!" he chirps in his soft melodious voice so suited to him, enthralling like everything else about him. He is seemingly unaware of the affect of his body pressing up against yours as he moves the pantry food around to better organize your cans.

"I'll make extra and bring you some! If you wanted me to, I mean."

You wait, unable to decide if this sweet torture is worth it. Sure, you have Jimin so close you can smell him, the muscles of his body rubbing against you with each movement, but the ache of his presence was almost too much to bear.

For the second time today you fear you might pass out as you pretend not to be wholly besotted by your naive neighbor.

Once he's done, instead of moving away, Jimin rests his hands on the counter behind you, caging you in and escalating your heartrate even more.

"Okay, but this time, you have to eat with me, promise?"

"Eat with you?" you repeat, "Eat dinner together?"

"Yess! Y/n! C'mon, you never eat with me," he whines, moving forward so close you have to lean backward, too shy to get any closer, your head knocking into the cabinet door in the process.

The idea of getting ready to eat dinner with Jimin seems like an impossible feat. The last time you agreed you took so long trying to find the perfect dress, redoing your make up over and over again that dinner time had long passed, and you pathetically packed his food and left it on his doorstep, hiding away in shame.

"Okay, yeah...yes!"

"Promise me."

"I promise!"

He smiles wide and wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly. "You're the beessst, y/n!"

Dinner with Jimin was perfect, just like him. He came over instead, probably worried you were going to stand him up again, and surprised you with flowers from his favorite garden. It felt like a date, was this a date? It didn't feel real, it felt like a dream.

A dream that turned into a nightmare.

---

"Y/n? What happened?!" Jimin opened the door, pulling you into his apartment.

You tried to stop crying, but you were a blubbering mess. Yet somehow you were able to explain to him what had happened to you.

There was a snake in your house! The largest snake you've ever seen. You couldn't stop shaking. Snakes terrified you, and to wake up and have one...in your bed...

You were frozen in fright, unable to do anything while it moved and constricted around your body. You don't know how long it had been, the minutes stretched to hours, and you couldn't do anything but lie there while it slithered on top of you! Under your clothes! It tightened around your stomach every time you tried to escape, making you terrified you were going to die if you moved too much.

Jimin held you delicately until you calmed down, then he made some tea for you. "Are you hurt?"

"The snake..." You couldn't explain everything to him, it was too shameful. You just nod, unable to speak, pushing the edge of your left short leg up slightly to show Jimin.

Jimin looked down at the rope-like bruise across your thigh, chest tightening at the sight.

He took a deep breath, calming himself down.

"Do you want to sleep here tonight? And I can check your apartment in the morning."

You nod again, covering your face before tears escape once more. Jimin wouldn't let you sleep on the couch, offering you his bed instead.

You tried to rest, but your dreams were consumed with snakes. Horrible slimey snakes. You dreamed you were in a pit full of them, slithering over you like that snake had done. You woke up crying again.

It had felt so real...

"Well, he's gone now," Jimin sighed after looking through our apartment one last time.

"What if it comes back?" you mutter, eyes tearing up, worried he didn't really believe you, you barely could believe what happened yourself. "Jimin...I'm scared."

"Do you want me to stay with you?"

Your sweet next door neighbor Jimin spent the night.

He wouldn't let you sleep on the couch, and you couldn't let him either, so you shared the bed. Even if your heart was jumping to have him so close to you, it felt comforting to have Jimin in your bedroom, you didn't want to be alone at all.

Jimin reached for you in his sleep and you were able to finally shut your eyes, letting his embrace lull you to sleep.

Jimin watched your chest rise and fall as you slept in his arms. His finger ran along your collar bone, trailing down, between your breasts, over your belly button, stopping when his fingertip hit the fabric of your shorts.

He pushed the band down, revealing a bit of your skin, humming delightfully at the sight.

'So soft,' he thinks. He felt bad for you, you were so terrified, even now he could tell you were afraid, he could smell your fear...

Even if your fear smelled sweet, he didn't want you to be afraid...

Jimin dipped his fingers under the band of your shorts, lower and lower until he could feel wetness.

Jimin held his breath, biting his lip.

He can't help but smile, to feel you so wet.

He resists pressing inside, happy to feel you shudder as he runs his digit left and right across your mound, softly, slowly.

And like always, the slow rubbing heated you from within, until you were gushing, shaking, whimpering from Jimin's touches.

---

Jimin didn't like when you were gone, but he could explore and learn more about you in your absence. He looked through your photo albums, took note of your favorite music, went through your closet and found the clothes you were too shy to wear yet bought on a whim. He went through your drawers, picked out his favorite panties and placed them on the top of your pile in hopes you would choose to wear the pair for tonight.

He took his time going through every corner of your bedroom, until he heard the door to your apartment open.

You sigh, undoing the buttons of your blouse, pulling the tight fabric off you, and pulling off your bra, heading for the bathroom. Work was stressful today, you need a nice long bath first and then you'll invite Jimin over to watch a movie.

Your smiled, thinking of him.

Jimin and you had gotten so close now, and even though you knew he was just being nice, it felt like maybe he was starting to think of you as more than just a neighbor. At least you hoped. It was what you longed for, cuddled into his embrace on nights alone together. And you were hoping tonight maybe his soft touches would become something more. Maybe, maybe, tonight Jimin will kiss you.

You texted him your plans and relaxed into the warm bath. The hot water felt so good on your tired muscles and you felt yourself drifting asleep…

You woke up suddenly.

The water was cold now, your neck ached. You stretched and sat up.

And then you screamed.

Over the edge of the tub, the head of a large snake peered up at you, forked tongue poking out.

You reached for your cell and knocked it over onto the floor as the snake slithered curiously closer.

Should you scream for Jimin? He was right next door, but would he hear you? Was he even home?

You jump up, backed into the farthest corner away when the snake plops itself into the water. But before you can escape it slithers quickly around your ankle and you panic, falling over and banging your head-

You groan as you stir awake. The tub was only half full of water now, and you shivered wet and cold, realizing your predicament.

The snake was wound tightly around the lower half of your body, and tighter around your wrists, your arms stuck under you as you kicked and splashed.

This is not real, this is not real. It's all you could tell yourself, all you could hope for.

You had almost believed that night was a lie, a horrible apparition when it never returned.

Jimin and you had taken turns sleeping over at each other's places until you were comfortable enough to sleep on your own. Yet at that point, Jimin was always over, never leaving your side, so even when you had those bad dreams, you woke to him beside you and never worried.

But tonight you were all alone, reliving your nightmare.

You began to cry.

The water made it easier for the snake to slither it’s body around, it seemed quicker, it seemed rougher.

You trembled, in cold and in fright. You shivered. You wept, unable to lift yourself out of your tub.

You whimpered, please, please, please, please, repeating the phrase, unable to articulate anything more.

The snake moved up higher around your wet body. It's head was now right above yours and you finally found your voice and screamed.

You screamed for Jimin.

The snake hissed and wrapped around your neck, silencing you almost instantly.

You couldn't move.

You couldn't scream.

You couldn't call for help.

You could barely breathe, but at least you could still do that.

The snake had you caught.

It was wrapped around you like a rope, like it knew exactly where to place it's body so you couldn't escape. And it was tightening around you, around your wrists, around your stomach, around your legs…

---

Jimin wished you would just love him!

Of course he treasured those moments when you would embrace his human form, of course.

But why couldn't you love all sides of him! The real him!

He had watched you so longingly from his garden when you moved to the city. When you would visit and watch the flowers, he watched you. You were more beautiful to gaze upon, you were like a flower to him, just bloomed and unfurling in front of him. He picked you, you were going to be his.

But you screamed when you noticed him in the rose bushes, leaving before he even introduced himself!

So he had to find another way, a better way. Something about you, there was something about you that changed...altered something in him, like a chemical reaction. He changed for you, because he loved you. He changed so you could love him.

He found you cute, the way you would react to his human form like a timid mouse.

It delighted him, the way he could entrance you. Jimin was always very skilled in charming his conquests.

When you were asleep, you were such a sweet treat for him, he could gaze upon your whimpering face all night, embrace you in his favorite way, run his whole body along your curves and watch you unfurl again and again, his own beautiful flower, he only wished to pluck your petals until you loved him.

But you loved him not.

Then after he had finally slithered his way into your day to day life using his human form, he began to feel more confident. After such a successful dinner date he visited you that night again. He rested his head against your heart and tightened himself around you, the urge to get closer to you overwhelming him. Jimin had woken you up, and your fear was another overwhelming.

Jimin tried to calm you, do all the things he knew you liked, slowly and steady tickle your body until you were shuddering, until you were tightening your legs around him.

Yet you only looked more horrified after, so Jimin sulked away. But you went to him once again, found comfort in him, and it only confirmed what Jimin already believed, that you were meant for him.

Jimin enjoyed you, pleasured you, treasured his time with you, but he knew it could be better than this. You just needed to accept him.

If you could just love him how he loved you, everything would be perfect, it would be sssssssooo much better.

---

Your muscles ached, you were starting to feel the coldness travel into your nose and in the back of your throat, you started to feel sick.

Jimin followed the familar track along your slick body again and again, touching every part of you.

You grunted tiredly. You couldn't do it again.

You knew what this terror seemed to want from you, the way it slithered in between your legs over and over again. The very first time, that night long ago, you had thought it was a freak accident, something so shameful for you to have reacted in such a way, something wrong with you. But no, it was the wish of this monster wrapped around you, controlling you.

You had no way to escape, you had no way to hold it inside, you couldn't ignore the rolling pressure against your most sensitive parts, the rubbing across your clit nonstop and precise, the kneading of your flesh, the way your breasts were pressed together, how it tightened around each one, torturing you until the friction against your core became too much and you writhed along. It kept going, even when you thought you couldn't any longer, you somehow came harder.

But now you really really couldn't, you felt yourself slipping away, exhausted, your temperature dropping.

You whispered meekly, "No more. I can't. Please." Before darkness settled in.

---

"Jimin?" Your voice was hoarse from the pressure around your throat for so long. You tried to sit up, but you couldn't. Your muscles were too tired, and the way your neighbor had his body wrapped around yours, you couldn't have moved anyways.

Jimin sighed, relaxing more against you. "You're finally awake."

"What...what happened...there was...the snake...help..."

Jimin had received your last invitation to come over just before he was about to slither away back home. Listening to the soft rumbling of water as you started your bath while he was hidden away in the darkness of your bedroom peaked his curiosity. He decided to go to you then, he decided it was the perfect time. "It'sss okay, don't worry. I'm here now, and I'll never leave you."

You grunt, dizzy, looking around, you notice the familiar bedroom was Jimin's instead.

"Wait."

Jimin sighs lazily.

You're dry now, but your clothes...

And Jimin's clothes, where are his clothes?

Jimin feels you tense in his embrace, he shushes you softly, nose nudging your neck as he kisses your shoulder.

"I don't understand." You want to cry. "What's happening?" you ask him.

Jimin lifted his head, staring down at you, at your lips. And he slowly lowered his head again, softly kissing you.

For so long you had wanted this, you had longed for a kiss from your beautiful next door neighbor Jimin.

His lips were just as soft as you imagined…but they were cold.

Jimin deepened the kiss, licking across your mouth and forcing you open. His tongue roamed your mouth, invading inside and stealing your air. It felt like his tongue never ended, filling your mouth and down your throat until you begin to gag.

You cried against his lips.

"Sssssshhhhhh."

Jimin cradled the back of your head, he didn't want to do this, but it was the only way! Eventually, you'll learn to accept him. This time, to make things easier, he will indulge in his primal instincts, since it's been so long since he's used his fangs anyways.

They were part of him, meant to be used, so you should accept them too!

You whimpered as he opened his mouth wide and you saw the length of his teeth. Jimin mouth clamped down on your throat, right under your ear, fangs piercing deep into your skin. The pain was quick and then it was gone, and you felt no pain as his venom coursed through you. You felt nothing at all actually, you couldn't move.

Jimin's venom had paralyzed you.

Your breathing slowed down, you were no longer hyperventilating.

Jimin smile brightened, his fangs now showing, his long forked tongue darting in and out reminding you of...

No no no no!

"Oh y/n, you're sssooo beautiful." He pulls the sheet away from your body to admire your curves, the marks of his constricting love across your skin.

Jimin wanted to claim all of you, and in his human form he could do even more to you.

He pulled your leg open, frowning when he touched your center. You were usually wet. He smirked as he moved your leg open wider. This time, he wanted to try something new just for you.

Jimin settled between your legs, pulling you to his mouth.

You felt his slippery tongue enter you, going deeper than even his fingers. You let out a shuddering breath. Jimin hummed happily, lapping your growing wetness up. You couldn't tighten around him, but that was okay, his venom would began to wear off eventually, and you would be able to clench around his tongue soon enough, you would be able to moan out his name.

Jimin had been too eager and given you too much venom, now he knew and could give you the appropriate amount to calm you down just enough next time. For now he could enjoy you as much as he wanted, Jimin had all the time in the world and the patience of a saint.

The patience of a saint, and the tongue of a devil. What kind of twisted nirvana had you found yourself in?

This was a different kind of torture, Jimin putting you right on the precipice of orgasm and you unable to climax. Tears began to fill your eyes as he continued to wiggle his tongue around your insides for hours, massaging you until you were begging, screaming in your mind to come. Jimin happily continued as you gushed more wetness for him to lick up, until finally your muscles deep inside started to tense as the pressure built.

You let out a quiet broken moan as you clenched over and over around Jimin's tongue.

Jimin's tongue finally slithered out of you, and you finally met his gaze, his face glistening with your wetness and his eyes sparkling down at you.

"Oh, you're sssssoooo fucking perfect." Jimin groaned as he slipped his cock in easily.

You inhaled sharply when you felt another pressure further down, against your second hole. He pulled away, watching with glee as the sudden realization washed over you like cold water, because you realize the snake hybrid had a second cock. He pumped both cocks in his hands, both thick and long and intimidating.

He pressed into your slick again with the head of his first cock. You tried to plead with him with your eyes, but he looked back excitedly, rubbing his second cock against your hole, ecstatic to feel your body wrapped around him another way. He smiled wickedly, features shinning so beautifully your mind reeled and you wished to cry out in frustration.

Your slick helped as his other cock pierced into you, Jimin now inside both your holes. He settled down on top of you with a deep groan. He kissed you, tongue prodding to make a point, that you were his inside and out, and there was no place he wouldn’t reach.

He was so long you didn't believe he could fit himself all the way in, but Jimin was determined to mold you to him, his skilled hips rolling against your sex, pressing himself in deeper and deeper, and though you couldn't voice your grievances, his venom thankfully dulled the pain at the very least as you grunted the softest whine.

"Yesssssss, fuck yesssssssss." Jimin was lost inside you, feeling the most euphoria he's ever felt in his human form. "Ssssssoo fucking good."

Jimin hugged you tight, pistoning into your heat, faster and faster, both cocks growing thicker and thicker until he burst. You eyes rolled back, you were fuller than you've felt before, the tightness was overwhelming. He used you, fucked you and made sure to stay secure and suffocatingly tight around you as his long cocks throbbed and filled your cunt and ass full of his cum.

You were still paralyzed when he dismounted, kissed you and transformed back.

You were still paralyzed when he wrapped his snake form around your neck and shoulders and fell asleep across your chest.

Thankfully, you were still paralyzed, because who knows what Jimin would have done if you had started screaming.

this took such a turn IDK WHAT HAPPENED I mean I hope you liked it, hopefully I left the appropriate amount of warnings cause a whole lotta shit went down t-t KNJ | KSJ | MYG | JHS | PJM | KTH | JJK | BTS

#yandere bts #bts yandere #hybrid bts #jimin x reader #jimin smut #bts smut

[bitchiswild]

Ride

GP Yoo Jimin x F! Reader

Warnings: smut, creampie, racing , and probs other things 🤷‍♀️

Word Count: 6.8k 😟

A/n: A LOT OF PLOT AND A LITTLE SMUT 😭

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

The night unveiled the mesmerizing beauty of the city as Karina and I zoomed through its streets. The motorcycle's roar echoed, seemingly announcing our presence to the entire city. Yet, in our youthful spirit, we disregarded it. Karina had injected adventure and excitement into my life, making every moment extraordinary. She's what makes my days and nights awesome, always bringing joy. I gotta thank Aeri for introducing me to Karina, even if we didn't hit it off right away.

•·················•·················•

“Wanna come along?” That’s all she said. Life always seems to dangle something new in front of me. Aeri pitched this idea, and I had no clue what was in store. Mysterious. But I trusted her completely; she’d been hustling and making some cash. It was our little secret. A game where the risk just added spice to the thrill. Kind of sketchy but exhilarating, you get me?

“You sure this is the right way?” I asked cautiously. We were heading down these shady, dimly lit stairs where the lights flickered oh-so-slowly."

"Yeah, I know the way. Been here a few times, no sweat!" she assured me, continuing down the steps.

As we got closer to the door, the music’s volume surged. Stepping inside, the booming bass hit us hard. The place was a riot of colorful lights, but there was this pervasive mix of gasoline and weed smell that wasn't too pleasant.

"Is this your usual weekend scene?" I quizzed Aeri.

"No doubt, I do. I'm here to help Karina gear up for her races," she said.

"Are you finally gonna introduce me to this Karina you're always on about?" I inquired.

"Absolutely! I'll take you to her now. Or would you prefer to check out the place first?" she asked.

"Let's take a look around first," I replied.

Aeri gave me the grand tour of this spot. I soaked it all in, kinda interested in this whole new vibe where everything's a bit of a gamble. It's all about the danger and excitement, you know? I find it pretty intriguing. This place, right before the race starts, it's got a vibe. But I did however, noticed how everyone's eyes are on us.

"Hey, what's with all the staring? Starting to weird me out a bit," I mentioned to Aeri, feeling a tad uncomfortable.

"They all know I'm friends with Karina. She's, well, let's just say she's a big deal around here. They call her the 'Queen' of racing," Aeri explained, and it all clicked for me.

"Can we bail, though? Feeling a bit too conspicuous," I suggested.

"Sure thing! Let's get you introduced to Karina; you two will hit it off, I'm sure!" Aeri exclaimed, ready to make the intro.

Aeri dragged me to this garage, all bright and half-open. She went and knocked on it like a maniac. ‘Karina! I'm here! Did you miss me?!’ Aeri shouted at the top of her lungs.

“Aeri! Keep it down! Get in here already,” the girl I figured was Karina snapped.

Aeri nudged me to step in first. I crouched a bit and walked into the garage. The garage was alive with various colored lights, yet one glaring light outshone the rest. Posters and tools adorned the walls, while a car occupied one side and a motorcycle sat on the other. The girl I presumed to be Karina was busy fixing something on the bike.

“Karina! Meet my bestie Y/n! Y/n, meet Karina!” Aeri introduced us, gesturing between us."

"Hey, Karina, nice to meet you. Aeri's told me loads about you, and don't worry, I won't spill anything that might get you thrown in jail," I said, immediately regretting my choice of words.

"Hi," was all she replied before returning to her work on the bike, leaving me feeling a bit like a fool.

Naturally, I felt offended. I wanted to confront her, but I held back. I hardly knew her and picking a fight with Aeri's friend wasn't the right move. It'd make me a lousy friend.

"Don't stress, Y/n. Karina's just... like that. She's very... monotone, but she's cool. Give her some time to warm up to you. Honestly, I didn't spill that I spilled everything about her illegal racing," Aeri explained with an awkward grin on her face.

“ It's fine it didn't bother me," I lied, though it bothered me more than I let on.

"So, Karina, when's your next race?" Aeri asked.

"In about 30 minutes. You heading out or sticking around here in the garage?" Karina inquired.

"Since this is Y/n's first illegal race, I'll probably stick around, cheering you on alongside her," Aeri nudged me while saying that.

"Alright, let's head out. I'm all set," she said, wrapping up the final touches on her bike.

We all made our way out of the garage, heading toward the main event. Karina revved her bike, riding off towards the street where the race would take place. The way people glanced at us left me feeling intimidated. Despite my smile, fear crept in. This was uncharted territory for me.

"Hey, Karina! What's up! Ready to race?! There's a hefty pot riding on you, lots of folks betting," a guy shouted as he approached us.

"Absolutely, BamBam. I'm always geared up to win some cash," Karina replied with a grin.

I never thought this girl smiled, but here she was, flashing a smile in front of me. It was kinda cute.

"Awesome! Just remember to stay safe, can't afford to lose our top racer, aka our 'Queen'," The guy I now know as BamBam added.

"Who's that guy? Her boyfriend?" I asked Aeri in a hushed tone.

Aeri stifled a laugh. "Nah, not her boyfriend. That's her childhood friend. They grew up together, got into street racing, and he's sort of her manager. He always bets on her because he knows she'll win. Also, Karina's gay and has a dick," Aeri explained frankly.

The last sentence caught me off guard and I took a double take at Aeri.

“She has a dick??,” I blurted out in surprise.

"Yeah, she was born with it. Why, wanna hop on it?" Aeri quipped, giving me a smirk.

I was flabbergasted! “What? No way!" I exclaimed.

"Sure, just saying, you're not the only one. Lots of other girls here do too," she casually replied.

"Alright, alright, let's stop talking about her dick," I said, eager to change the subject.

"Stop talking about my what?" Karina chimed in, joining our conversation.

I was horrified. If she overheard our discussion, I'd be mortified.

"Your bike," Aeri quickly interjected, coming to my rescue. "Y/n here was just saying how much she liked it but wanted to stop gushing over your bike."

"Thanks," Karina replied, giving me a stare that made me cough in awkwardness. Why did I suddenly feel so awkward? I needed a shot, maybe ten.

"Anyway, I came to tell you guys that the race is starting soon, so get to your spots. And remember, don't accept drinks from strangers. Have the bartender made you the drink, alright?" Karina instructed us.

Can we grab a drink, Aeri? I seriously need one after that almost-embarrassment," I admitted, fanning myself to emphasize the point.

"Sure thing," Aeri replied, leading me towards the bar.

Once we had our drinks, we headed towards the restricted area where only people acquainted with Karina were allowed. There was a large TV screen displaying Karina, geared up with her helmet on, ready for the race. Her eyes reflected unwavering determination, making me equally certain she'd emerge victorious.

The audio from the scene was clear, capturing a guy beside Karina yelling that she was going to lose. Karina, unfazed, remained focused, displaying even greater determination. A girl emerged onto the street, holding a red flag. Raising her arm, she brought it down swiftly, marking the start of the race.

The race unfolded rapidly. Kai, the guy I just learned the name of, initially took the lead, but as they reached a sharp turn, Karina surged past him. Watching her on the screen, it was evident—she had a natural talent for this. Her movements on the bike were graceful, navigating every turn effortlessly. I finally understood why people bet on her. Yet, watching her gave me a mix of sensations, tingling feelings that I couldn't quite decipher—was it anxiety or something else?

As they approached the finish line, it was a dead heat. Anxiety crept up on me, evident in my shaking leg. I desperately hoped for Karina's victory. Beside me, Aeri seemed absolutely chilled, not a speck of doubt in her eyes. I couldn't help but wonder why she was so composed. "She knows something," I muttered to myself, suspecting that Aeri had an inside track on this.

Right after that thought, Aeri did the exact thing I suspected she knew about. With a simple press of a button, Karina's speed surged, propelling her faster than before, and she breezed across the finish line.

When Karina hit that button, everyone was stunned by the speed she picked up. But as soon as she crossed that finish line, the crowd erupted in cheers. Aeri and I jumped to our feet, cheering, hugging, and bouncing around in joy. Karina had not only won the race but also scored a substantial amount of prize money. BamBam, having won all the bets he placed, was also celebrating his success.

After breaking on her bike and removing her helmet, Karina was engulfed by a swarm of well-wishers. Aeri and I maneuvered through the crowd to reach her. Aeri led the way, offering her congratulations with a pat on the back, while I stood there beaming at her. Our eyes met, and she returned a small grin. For me, that was enough. Her eyes spoke volumes, brimming with excitement and joy.

As things settled, Karina gathered her winnings, and we trailed back to the garage together.

"That was one of your finest races in a while!" Aeri praised.

"Thank you. I really appreciate you guys being there, cheering me on," Karina replied, a grateful expression on her face.

"So, when's the next race?" Aeri inquired.

"In two weeks. I need to get some more parts for my bike, upgrade it, and also visit my mom to give her some money," Karina informed us.

"Speaking of your mom, how's she doing?" Aeri inquired.

"She's still working, despite me telling her to retire. That woman is just too stubborn," Karina replied, shaking her head.

"Just like you," Aeri teased with a smirk.

"Hey! I have my reasons, alright?" Karina retorted with a slight glare.

Before Aeri could reply, her phone rang. 'I'll be right back,' she said before leaving Karina and me alone. 'And now there are two,' I murmured to myself.

"So, Karina, you did an awesome job out there! I was really impressed by how you clutch in the end. I was so anxious the whole time, rooting for you, and I just wanted you to win and I was so worried—" I started to ramble.

"Y/n!" Karina exclaimed, gripping my shoulders and staring at me. "Calm down, you're rambling," she urged, trying to rein in my chatter.

Her sudden touch caught me off guard, bringing an unexpected closeness that felt like we were almost within kissing distance. I shook my head, trying to dispel those thoughts. "Sorry... that happens when I feel awkward or anxious," I explained.

She withdrew her hands and kept staring at me. "It's fine, just take a moment. If you need to ease your anxiety, try dunking your head in ice-cold water. That might help," Karina suggested calmly.

"I'll keep that in mind for next time," I replied.

Karina returned to her bike, resuming work by taking parts off, fetching tools and components from her workbench, and moving back and forth between them. Lost in my thoughts, I scanned the garage, wondering where Aeri had vanished to.

"You know, you can sit, right?" Karina's voice startled me out of my reverie. I glanced at her, finding her staring at me and pointing to the chair nearby.

“Oh right, sorry,”I sheepishly grinned in response, taking the hint and finally sitting down. I couldn't help but keep glancing around the garage, occasionally stealing quick looks at Karina. The silence became unbearable, prompting me to break it.

"Do you need any help?" I offered, hoping to engage in conversation.

"Nope," she replied bluntly.

"Can I help you, though? I can't stand this silence, and I want to do something," I persisted.

"You can sit and be quiet," she repeated, smirking as she glanced up.

I remained silent, pursing my lips and continuing to observe her.

"Please, let me help!" I pleaded, growing desperate to do something.

"Fine, come here," she finally relented. I eagerly approached her, thrilled to lend a hand.

"I'm giving you a very big responsibility, okay? Now, hold the flashlight and don't move," Karina instructed, handing me the flashlight.

I felt disappointed; holding the flashlight was something my dad always made me do, and I often got yelled at for doing it wrong. Nevertheless, I was doing something, and for the next 20 minutes, I held onto it diligently. Finally, Aeri returned from her phone call.

"What the hell?! What took so long?" I exclaimed at her, still clutching the flashlight.

"Y/n, hold the flashlight correctly!" Karina interjected. "Oops, sorry," I apologized and adjusted my grip to hold it correctly.

"Sorry I took so long; it was an important call I can't go into details about right now, but I promise it's nothing bad," Aeri explained.

"Okay, I hope everything's alright," I replied.

"Everything's good. Are you ready to leave? Because I am," Aeri asked.

"Yeah, I'm ready," I confirmed, turning off the flashlight and handing it back to Karina.

"Alright, let's go. Bye, Karina! See you soon!" Aeri called out as she exited the garage.

"Bye, Karina, till then," I called out. As I began to duck my head under the garage door, I caught her saying goodbye.

"Bye, Y/n," I heard Karina's voice say as she continued tinkering with her bike.

"Alright, let's head back to our dorm. Don't worry, you'll be back; this is just the beginning," Aeri reassured me as we made our way back toward the stairs we came from.

•·················•·················•

It's the following day, and a strong urge pulls me to return to the garage. I'm not sure why I feel this way, but the desire is there. After getting ready, I head towards Aeri’s room to check if she's around, but her neatly made bed indicates she's probably left for class.

Deciding to go on my own, I recall the location and remember that Aeri had sent me the address. Gathering my belongings, I leave the room and start walking towards the destination.

I'm in the stairwell, making my way down toward the familiar door Aeri had led me through. As I approach, I notice the music still blaring, but today, the neon blue lights replace yesterday's vibrant colors. I glance around before heading toward Karina’s garage.

Suddenly, a random guy yells, "Hey, Beautiful! Come over here and sit on my lap!" I choose to ignore him and keep walking.

"Come on, I know you heard me! Come here!" he yells out again, this time patting his lap in an insistent and uncomfortable manner.

"No thanks, I'm good," I firmly replied, trying to maintain my course toward Karina’s garage.

But, as expected, the guy persists and ends up blocking my way. I look up at him, my expression blank, while he grins down at me. "Can I help you?" I retort, my arms crossed and an attitude evident in my tone.

"Yea, I asked you to do something but you didn't," the musty guy states.

"Yea, I know," I respond bluntly.

"You know... I don't take no for an answer," he declares, his tone suggesting an intent to push the issue.

"And? I do not care," I reiterated, my arms remaining crossed.

He made a move to reach for my arm, but thankfully, a familiar voice intervened. It was Karina. I felt a surge of relief; I was beginning to get anxious at the thought of him grabbing me.

"Nate, what are you doing?" Karina's voice addressed him directly.

"Karina! Hey! I was just trying to get this beautiful lady to sit on my lap and do other things if you know what I mean," Nate replied with a suggestive wink, trying to play it off.

Karina's expression turned serious. "Actually, she’s with me, and she is off-limits. I do not want you anywhere near her," Karina asserted firmly, setting a clear boundary.

"How come? I'm just having some fun," Nate retorted with a smirk, clearly not taking Karina's instructions seriously.

"I don't care. She’s off-limits. Now leave!" Karina's tone grew firmer, her frustration evident.

"Yea, sure, see you around, beautiful," Nate said, smirking as he began to walk away.

Karina gripped my hand firmly, concern evident in her eyes. "Are you okay? What are you doing here by yourself? Do you realize that if I wasn’t here, things could've gone bad? You can’t be here without me or Aeri, got it?" She guided me towards her garage, still holding my hand.

"I know. I'm sorry. I promise not to come here without you or Aeri," I assured her.

"You didn't answer my question. Why are you here?" She pressed for an explanation.

"I just wanted to continue helping you with your bike. Also, I had no class today, so I decided to come here," I answered honestly.

"You came all this way just to help me with my bike?" she asked incredulously.

"Yeah, why not?" I replied casually.

Karina chuckled in disbelief. "Okay, fine, you can help. Let's get started," she agreed.

And so, that's what we did. I began coming by every other day or whenever I had free time to assist her in preparing her bike for the upcoming race. Over time, we started enjoying each other's company, engaging in light conversation. However, we hadn't broached certain topics—things I wanted to know, like why she started street racing. I chose to keep those questions to myself, saving them for another day.

One such day, I had no class and was free. I had Karina’s number now, so I texted her beforehand that I was heading to the garage. She mentioned she'd meet me at the door, and true to her word, that's where she was. We walked together towards the garage, and she let me enter first before following. "So, what are we working on today?" I inquired.

"Nothing, because we are finished!" she announced with a grin, a familiar expression that I had come to adore over the past two weeks. That grin, when directed at me, felt unlike any other.

"Really? You finished it?" I asked in amazement.

"No, we finished it," she corrected, her grin turning into a warm smile.

I mirrored her smile. "Does that mean we get to go on a test drive?" I was thrilled at the prospect of riding the bike after investing so much effort into it.

"Of course! Here, let me get you a helmet," she offered, fetching one for me. She returned, placing the helmet on me. The visor was closed, but a simple click opened it, and suddenly, Karina was gazing into my eyes.

"There you are, hi!" she greeted with a grin.

"Hi back," I replied, returning her greeting. She continued to gaze at me for a moment before turning to retrieve her own helmet, securing it in place. Walking over to her bike, she mounted it first, signaling for me to climb on behind her.

Once I was on, I instinctively held onto the sides of the bike, but Karina guided my arms around her stomach, encouraging me to wrap them securely. I held on tightly, feeling the firmness of her toned stomach, grateful that she couldn't see my blushing face.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"Of course," I replied, trying to mask any hint of nervousness in my voice.

She ignited the engine, and it roared thunderously, the sound reverberating throughout the garage. As she opened the garage door, the engine revved, and we surged out. The speed we gained made me hold onto Karina even tighter, a sudden fear gripping me.

In my helmet, I heard her voice. "You okay back there?" she inquired.

"Wait, how am I hearing you so clearly?" I asked, puzzled.

"There's Bluetooth connected to the helmets," she explained.

"Ah, that’s nice. And to answer your question, yes, I am okay, just a bit scared at the speed we're going," I confessed.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied without hesitation.

"Then everything will be okay," she assured me, continuing to ride out of the tunnels and onto the main road.

As we navigated through the city, Karina's voice came through the helmets. "I want to take you somewhere, will you let me?" she asked.

Her proposal made my heart melt; it was a simple yet profound request. "Yes, take me wherever you want to go," I responded.

"Okay, thank you," she replied, steering toward her chosen destination.

We ascended a hill with a breathtaking view of the city, but Karina kept driving until we reached our final stop. She parked the bike, removing the key, and got off first. Extending her hand, she helped me dismount as well. "What is this place?" I inquired, following her closer to the view.

"It's a place where my dad brought my mom to confess his feelings to her. It was his spot, and even before that, it belonged to my grandma. After my dad passed away, my mom brought me here because I couldn't get over his death. She shared all their stories with me, and we laughed and cried together," Karina explained, her voice carrying the weight of memories.

I hung onto her every word. Karina paused for a moment before continuing.

"She also told me to come here whenever I feel stressed out or just need to connect with my dad in a way. So that's what I did. I was here last night, seeking guidance. I asked him if I should go forth with something, and I got the answer I wanted," she said, smiling warmly at me as she spoke.

Karina's revelation left me speechless. I sensed there was more she wanted to express.

"There’s another thing Mom told me about this spot. She said if I wanted to confess my feelings to someone, I should come here. It’s a place special to me, where my dad and grandma did the same in the past," she explained, her gaze fixed on me.

My heart raced at her words. She took hold of my hands. "Y/n, over the last two weeks, my feelings for you have grown. It started when I saw Nate getting too close to you. I realized then that I’d do anything to keep you safe. I've cherished every moment we've spent fixing my bike. I’ve come to realize that I have feelings for you. Please, tell me you feel the same?”

I was taken aback by her confession, my mind racing as I processed her words and the depth of my own feelings.

I was taken aback. Karina's confession of her feelings caught me by surprise, but it filled me with joy to know that the emotions were mutual. With heartfelt honesty, I replied, “Karina... from the moment your smile caught my eye, I felt something special. The time we've shared, every moment, it's made my feelings grow stronger. I do feel the same way. I'm grateful you feel it too.”

As Karina's hand cupped my cheek, her touch was gentle yet filled with longing. Our gazes locked, conveying emotions words couldn't express. I leaned into her touch, feeling the warmth of her hand against my skin. In that silent exchange, the air thickened with anticipation. We moved closer, our bodies drawn together by an invisible force. When our lips finally met, a surge of electricity ran through me, setting my nerves on fire. My heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness, mirroring the intensity I sensed in Karina. Every heartbeat seemed synchronized, creating an unspoken harmony between us. I withdrew my hand from hers, instinctively wrapping both around her neck, drawing her closer and intensifying the kiss. Simultaneously, her hand moved to the side of my stomach, tracing gentle, reassuring circles. The passionate exchange stirred a whirlwind of emotions between us, each moment pulsating with raw feelings. As the kiss deepened, the need for air became undeniable, forcing us to reluctantly break apart, breathless and exhilarated.

We were both breathing heavily, savoring the lingering sensation of the kiss. I opened my eyes first; Karina's remained closed, a charming smile gracing her face. When her eyes finally met mine, we shared a moment of laughter, both in disbelief and excitement. Karina reached out, taking my hand. "Come on, let's go do something fun," she said, smiling warmly.

I grabbed her hand, and we sprinted back to her bike. She swiftly handed me the helmet, planting one more kiss on my lips before securing the helmet over my head. With her helmet on, she mounted the bike, extending her hand to help me get on. I wrapped my arms around her waist, holding on tightly as she revved the engine and guided us to our next stop.

This time, cruising through the city felt different—carefree, even. I felt lighter, more alive, and undeniably happy, all thanks to the girl in front of me. As we reached Imperial, a nightclub, Karina dismounted first and helped me off the bike. She handed the keys to the valet, grasped my hand, and led me confidently toward the entrance. We bypassed any need for IDs as Karina was familiar with the bouncer.

After arriving, we beelined to the bar for drinks. Shots flowed freely, and we lost ourselves in the music, dancing together all night. Carefree and spirited, we moved to the beats, laughing and enjoying the moment. Eventually, we somehow made it back home, and waking up there, I was grateful that we'd safely returned.

I woke up in a room that didn’t seem familiar, but seeing Karina next to me put me at ease. Glancing around, I noticed a picture of her and BamBam on the nightstand. It was Karina's room. I felt a moment of panic, worrying we'd gone too far last night, but a quick check under the blanket revealed I was fully dressed. I sighed in relief and stole a glance at Karina, peacefully asleep beside me. She stirred, and I found myself captivated by her face. She slowly opened her eyes, catching me in the act.

“What a lovely sight to wake up to,” she said, her morning voice soft and gentle.

I grinned and leaned in for a kiss. She reciprocated, but before it could linger, she broke away. “As much as I'd love to, let me brush my teeth first.”

“Karina, it's fine. Come here,” I insisted, trying to pull her back for another kiss. With a laugh, she evaded my grasp and dashed into the bathroom, teasingly repeating, “No, let me brush my teeth!”

I stayed seated on her bed, chuckling at her playful antics, before eventually rising and making my way to the bathroom. While we brushed our teeth, our playful nudges and giggles made it feel like we were back in high school.

Once we finished brushing our teeth, we moved to her kitchen and decided to make some food. Karina prepared some eggs and toast, a simple yet satisfying breakfast.

“Y/n,” Karina said, breaking the calm ambiance of the morning.

“Yeah?” I responded, looking up to meet her gaze.

Her eyes held a mix of adoration and nervousness. “Will you be my girlfriend?” she asked, her voice slightly wavering.

My heart fluttered in excitement. "I would love to be your girlfriend," I replied, rising from my seat to give her a passionate kiss. She returned it with equal fervor.

Breaking the kiss, she took a deep breath. "There's a race tonight. I want you and Aeri to be there, please," she requested.

"Absolutely, count on us!" I assured her.

"Great! You guys are like my good luck charms in a way, so I need you there," she said, gently rubbing my sides.

The tension was palpable as the night settled in. Karina had her eyes set on a significant prize this time. Winter, her competitor, was no ordinary racer, having secured victories at a level matching Karina's own accomplishments. When I inquired if Karina felt nervous about this race, she assured me of her composure, having previously met Winter, who seemed amiable.

As we arrived at the garage, the atmosphere crackled with a blend of excitement and anticipation. Aeri and I joined forces to help Karina ready her bike, meticulously tuning every detail for optimum performance. Meanwhile, Karina engaged in a serious conversation with BamBam, strategizing about bets and fine-tuning her approach for the upcoming race.

"Think Karina's got this one in the bag?" I asked Aeri, passing her a wrench.

"I'm not entirely certain this time. Winter's no joke. She's a fantastic racer, saw her work before, and it's impressive," Aeri replied, adjusting a tool.

“She’s really that good?” I inquired, surprised by Aeri’s statement about Winter.

“She’s just as good as Karina,” Aeri confirmed.

Karina returned after her conversation with BamBam, drawing me in for a quick peck to express gratitude for cleaning her bike. Before I could respond, Aeri interjected playfully, demanding her own acknowledgment for the help she'd provided. Karina indulged her with a forehead kiss, a smirk playing on her lips.

Aeri teased about being the matchmaker, observing Karina and me embracing each other. As the moment of the race arrived, BamBam's booming voice signaled Karina to prepare, redirecting everyone's attention to the impending competition.

“Alright guys, let's go race,” Karina announced, setting the momentum for the upcoming event. As we made our way to the race track, Winter appeared, engrossed in conversation with some acquaintances. Aeri departed momentarily to fetch drinks while I stayed by Karina's side.

Karina sought to park her bike beside Winter’s. “Are you okay waiting here for a bit?” she inquired.

“Yes, I'm good,” I replied as she moved to position her bike. In the meantime, Winter approached me. “Hey, what's your name?” she asked with a smile.

“I'm Y/n, and you’re Winter,” I responded.

“That’s me! So… why is a beautiful girl standing alone by herself?” Winter questioned, her expression playful.

“Oh, just waiting on a friend,” I answered casually, trying to keep things light amidst the anticipation of the race.

“How about this? You and I go somewhere together after the race is done?” Winter proposed, her tone playful.

“Umm-” I hesitated, feeling a rush of panic. Where was Karina when I needed her?

“Oh, come on, I don't bite… unless you want me to?” Winter flirted, her demeanor teasing.

"Karina!" Relief washed over me as she arrived, once again coming to my rescue.

"Karina! This is your girlfriend?" Winter's curiosity was evident in her gaze toward both of us.

"Yes, she is." Karina confirmed, wrapping her arms around me protectively.

Winter eyed Karina's protective gesture and then smirked. "Okay then, your girl is a fine dime. I want to make a bet. If I win, you break up with Y/n, and she comes with me. If I don't, we can act like this conversation never happened," Winter proposed, extending her hand for a handshake.

“Deal,” Karina said, her tone firm, as she shook Winter’s hand.

“Great doing business with you,” Winter said with a smirk, winking at me before strolling toward her bike.

My heart raced with disbelief and hurt. “Karina, seriously? You’re just going to let that happen?” I felt betrayed, hurt that she would entertain such an idea without discussing it with me. I began to turn away, but Karina caught hold of my hand before I could leave.

“Y/n listen to me,” Karina pleaded as she held onto my hand.

I stopped but didn’t turn around. “No way. I can't believe this. You’re willing to throw away our relationship just like that,” I exclaimed, snapping my fingers in frustration. “We haven't even been together for two days, and now you’re betting on me? If you lose, I’m as good as gone,” I said, my anger palpable, trying to control the quiver in my voice.

“I did it to protect you.” Her voice cracked with an unexpected vulnerability.

“Protect me?” I turned to face her, frustration and confusion mixing within me.

“Winter... She’s a ruthless racer, and she’s been known for her tricks off the track. I couldn’t risk anything happening to you. I had to agree, but believe me, I never meant it. You mean more to me than anything else, Y/n. Please, you have to trust me on this.”

Her words struck a chord, but I was still shaken. “How could you make a deal like that without even discussing it with me?”

Karina's expression softened, remorse clear in her eyes. “I know, and I’m sorry. I panicked. Please, I’ll figure out a way. I won’t let anything happen to us.”

I hesitated, the hurt mingling with understanding. “You promise?”

“Absolutely. Trust me, okay?” Karina pleaded, her eyes pleading for forgiveness.

I sighed, torn between emotions but wanting to believe her. “Fine.”

She pulled me into a tight hug. “Thank you, Y/n. I promise, I’ll fix this, I’ll win the race for you.”

“I don't want to discuss it further. Let’s just focus on the race. I’ll be there with Aeri cheering you on,” I said, my hurt evident as I gave Karina a peck on the lips before walking over to Aeri, who had our drinks.

“What happened between you and Karina?” she asked, noticing Karina's sad expression.

“She and Winter made a bet about our relationship,” I explained.

“What kind of bet?” she inquired, eyebrows furrowed.

“If Winter wins, Karina and I have to split so I end up with Winter,” I revealed.

“What? Why would she agree to that?” Aeri exclaimed.

“I have no idea, but she’s asking me to trust her,” I replied.

“Okay, then let's try to trust her.”

The race commenced as Aeri and I fixated on the screen, watching Winter and Karina revving their engines atop their bikes. A girl emerged, brandishing a red flag. As she dropped it, signaling the start, the engines roared to life, and the race began.

Initially, it was a tight competition, neck and neck, but Winter skillfully claimed the lead. Her bike navigated every twist and turn effortlessly, gaining ground with ease. Karina trailed closely behind, mirroring Winter's prowess as they maneuvered through the course.

As the race unfolded, it became evident that Winter's racing skills were formidable, just as Aeri and Karina had indicated. The tension mounted within me as I fervently rooted for Karina to win. My feelings for her grew more pronounced with every twist and turn. I didn't want to end up with Winter; it was Karina I truly cared about.

Karina surged ahead at one point, fueling a flicker of hope, but it was short-lived as Winter swiftly overtook her. They were now neck and neck, closing in on the finish line. Karina managed to match Winter's pace, riding side by side. Both racers shared a momentary gaze, a blend of determination and grit in their eyes, each vying for victory.

My heart raced with anxiety as they neared the finish line. Winter had a slight edge, but Karina's resolve was unmistakable. The atmosphere was electric as they crossed the finish line simultaneously, leaving us all in suspense, waiting for the official outcome.

"Did Winter just win?" I asked myself in disbelief, falling to my knees, hurt by the outcome.

"Wait, wait!" The announcer's voice boomed. "Let's have a replay!"

As we watched the replay, it was clear: Karina's wheel crossed the finish line first. "Karina won!" I shouted in jubilation, Aeri joining in.

The crowd erupted into cheers. Karina removed her helmet, smiling. Winter approached her, extending her hand. "Good race, Jimin," she said.

Karina shook her hand, replying, "Good race, Minjeong."

Overwhelmed with emotion, I ran towards Karina, enveloping her in a tight hug. "You won," I said, still in disbelief.

"I told you to trust me," she said softly.

"I'll always trust you," I replied, pulling her into a passionate kiss.

The kiss was interrupted by Aeri's arrival. "AYYY, Karina!! YOU WON!!" she screamed, rushing to hug her. But then, Aeri punched Karina's arm hard.

"Ouch! What was that for?!" Karina exclaimed.

"That was for accepting the bet," Aeri retorted.

Karina sighed. "At least I won, and it's over now."

"Yeah, it's in the past. Let's focus on the present and work towards the future," I chimed in.

Karina went to collect her winnings, and we all headed back to Imperial to celebrate her victory. Imperial was alive with music, and we lost ourselves in the beats, dancing and reveling in the energy of the night. Karina and I moved together on the dance floor, the heat of the room adding to the charged atmosphere. The way she looked at me sent shivers down my spine, her desire unmistakable.

As our bodies moved in sync, the electricity between us intensified. Karina leaned in close, her voice a seductive murmur in my ear. “You look amazing tonight,” she whispered, her hand tracing a tantalizing path across my skin.

Unable to resist any longer, I pulled Karina closer to me, breathlessly murmuring in her ear, “Let's get out of here.” I could see the immediate spark of desire in her eyes as she eagerly took my hand, leading me out of the club. Outside, she hailed a cab, and within 10 minutes, we arrived at her house.

Pressing against her door, our passion intensified. Karina momentarily paused our embrace to unlock the door, and as soon as it swung open, she pushed me inside before closing it firmly behind us. We resumed our fervent kissing as we made our way upstairs to her room.

Karina shoved me onto the bed and removed her bra and shirt. She returned to kissing me, making tracks with her lips as she kissed down my neck. She broke the kiss and gripped the bottom of my dress,asking for permission to take it off. And I let her. I reached back to unhook my bra when she removed my dress. Allowing it to descend before me. After everything was off, she teased my nipples and kissed every part of my body, leaving as many traces as she could.

With my panties still in the way, she began to kiss her way down my body, reaching closer to my heart.

"Please," I whimpered.

Karina pulled down my panties and planted a kiss on top of them. began removing her boxers and pants. "Anything for you baby.” She muttered.

She gently brushed her cock's head on my pussy. “Fuck baby you’re so wet. Who makes you this wet” Karina Moaned.

"You!" I groaned, "Please, Karina, do something.

She began to break my pussy apart with her cock as she pushed it through my hole. She groaned, "Fuck you're so tight," and began to thrust in me. I felt amazing the way Karina was touching all the right places inside me. "Harder," I moaned.

Karina pounding me harder. We both moaned loudly. I was getting close. “Fuck Karina I’m close” I gasp out.

She groaned, continuing to thrust, "Me too."

I groaned, "Fuck Karina, you feel so good," as tears streamed down my cheeks from the pleasure she was giving me.

"Baby, where do you want it? Karina groaned, "Where do you want my cum?"

I moaned out, "Please cum inside."

Karina pushed herself closer to me. She reached down to my clit and gave it a few rapid circular rubs, and that was it for me.

I cried, "Fuck Karina, I'm cumming."

“Cum for me baby” She husked.

I squeezed Karina’s cock while I came hard. Sending her over the edge, she shoot ropes of cum into my pussy painting my walls white. I groaned at the warmth. Karina stood steady inside me for a second before releasing her grip and pulling out. She takes a deep breath and settles down next me, drawing me very close to her chest.

“Sleep now, beautiful. I’ll see you in the morning,” Karina whispered, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead.

•·················•·················•

“Hey, whatcha thinkin' about?” Karina asked, gazing at me with affection. We had just arrived at our spot. I hugged her tight. “Just thinking about when we first met, that's all,” I replied.

She leaned in for a peck. “Thanks to Aeri, I met the love of my life,” Karina said, smiling.

“Agreed,” I chuckled, drawing her into a kiss.

“I love you, Y/n,” she murmured against my lips.

“I love you too, Jimin.”

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

#jimin x reader #Karina x reader #Yoo Jimin #aespa x reader #GP Karina #aespa x fem reader #aespa #aespa smut #yoo Jimin x reader #bitchiswild #BIW. WRITES #Spotify

[bluemari23]

bts and how they would love their plus size s/o

pairings: bts x reader genre: fluff, smut, warnings: suggestive but also more, face sitting, thigh riding, body worship, possessive jungkook, hobo is a boob man, mr tongue technology, masterlist

Namjoon

loves to kiss your stretch marks. like absolutely loves them. loves to trace them as well

"they give me a map to loving you"

insists on cuddling on the couch, knowing there isn't a lot of room so you have to lay on him

"it's okay, baby, come lay on me"

loves when you where his clothes, especially when you only wear one of his shirts (loves how they barely cover your thighs)

his favorite physical part about you is your thighs, they literally make him drool

"c'mere babygirl. let me help you" when he sees you struggling with your thoughts. he knows you constantly think you're too heavy or big for him. he's not having it

holds your hips and guides your movements as you ride his thigh. loves knowing he can make you cum with just his thighs, flexing it and holding you tight.

Jin

also a thigh man but for different reasons (kind of)

loves wrapping his arms around you and holding you from behind

loves to make new recipes for you to try and test out

loves that he can provide for you and your shared love of food

"just one more minute, baby" when you try to get out of bed but he isn't done cuddling you yet

will happily hype you up in new clothes

"world wide beautiful" is your new title

his love of eating translates to other things as well

"please babygirl" as he pleads for you to sit on his face

will happily die under your pussy and the way your thighs clench around his head when you cum

loves to take care of you and provide for you

Yoongi

doesn't take anyone's shit when it comes to you

very protective lover

don't have to think around him at all

will only do interviews with weverse if even one person does an unflattering article about you (will sue anyone and everyone)

at first you are uncomfortable with his constant touches and hungry gazes but then they become almost comforting

always keeps snacks for you two to share, especially tangerines

writes numerous songs for you

loves to hold you with his hand resting on your stomach (will rub at the stretch marks and whisper absolute desire in your ear)

loves to claim you in his studio, vocal about his desire and love for you

passionate in his body worship of you, especially when he finds out how much you love his tongue and how it feels on you

"feel so good against me, princess"

Hosoek

loves to dress you and help expand your fashions sense

is the one to help you feel more confident in your body and happy to show it off

loves when you come home and do a fashion show of him in your new clothes (especially when you buy some lingerie)

can't keep his hands off of you

ever

loves how soft your skin is and is constantly fondling your curves

wants to just hold your breasts in his hands

says his hands could be a better bra for you (hates how you end up with marks from the wires in your bras and how they hurt at the end of the day)

loves to just randomly nibble at your skin (thinks it looks delicious and loves the giggles you make every time)

"all of this, just for me" as he thrusts deeply into you, kissing at your breasts

Jimin

loves how warm you are and will always be found cuddling you no matter where you both are

finds you absolutely adorable and smiles wide every time you come into a room

loves to dress you up and take pictures of you (keeps you as his lock screen and home screen)

can get jealous when other people look at you

"say you're mine, baby"

is there to listen and help you with your own body image issues,

is always there to remind you how beautiful you are

is completely into body worship

"look so pretty for me, all dressed up like this"

would also love face sitting to be honest. like cannot get enough of the way you look down at him, pulling at his hair as you cum

Taehyung

thinks nothing of your weight until he sees you looking in the mirror, holding and becoming insecure over every one of your "problem areas"

will have nothing of you thinking you have problem areas

thinks you're a goddess

"all art work must be thoroughly examined to be fully appreciated"

will spend hours making you feel good and loving on each of you "problem areas" tell you each reason why he loves you

loves to see you in his jackets,

ends up buying matching outfits for you to wear out

will kiss you every couple minutes, just because he loves the feeling of your lips

Jungkook

would be the person to keep going to the gym for you

"I will always be able to carry you"

loves to manhandle you (knowing you get absolutely horny for him when he does so)

is possessive of you and your body

loves when you were dresses that are sort of revealing because it means you're feeling good in your body (and he's the only one who can touch you)

his favorite position is when you ride him so he can see all of you

especially loves watching your breasts bounce from each thrust up he makes

loves seeing his handprints on your hips or ass from you riding him

is also into body worship because he loves your body and just how perfect it is for him

"so perfect for me, baby. take my cock so well"

#bts #bts au #bts headcanons #boyfriend bts #bts x reader #fluff #smut #bluemari23

[wishesunderthestars]

Eunoia // Ch. 26

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness isn’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 12.1k+

Warnings: past abuse, past sexual abuse, cursing, past violence,

Masterlist

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It was the second time Taehyung was in Jungkook’s atelier—only recently had Jungkook started thinking of it like that, before it was the atelier—but he was looking around him like it was a fairytale and everything was made of magic. Jungkook guessed he must have looked a little like that as well the first time you had shown him the room and told him it was his to do as he pleased. Athens and the Parthenon stretching on the wall never failed to inspire wonder and a deep respect in him, regardless of how long it had been since the first time he walked inside.

Everything else in the room was quite different from that first day. The once pristine and unused room was now splattered in paint. It was everywhere, on the floor and the cabinets and on the many newspapers that he used to cover everything. The first time he had stained the floor with paint, he had gone to you with teary eyes, lowered ears, and a hundred apologies on the tip of his tongue. You had simply laughed and told him that the room was his and he could paint the whole floor if he wanted to. The only thing you asked of him was to be careful of the wall painting. Jungkook would have never touched it in the first place.

Finished canvases were leaning against the cabinets and the walls. Most of them were of places Jungkook found beautiful, the Eiffel Tower, the Parthenon, a neighborhood in Amsterdam he had seen in one of your photos. There were also a few paintings of the pack, you and Seokjin cooking in the kitchen, Yoongi playing the piano, Namjoon and Hoseok under the large tree in the garden, Taehyung with Alice at the lake, and Jimin smiling so wide his eyes turned into crescent moons.

Jungkook longed for Jimin with an insatiable hunger. Now that he had gotten a taste of him once and Jimin told him he wanted it, now that there was no guilt and anguish, he couldn’t get enough of him. He wanted to always be touching him, holding him, and scenting him. His scent was like an aphrodisiac to him and he was addicted.

However, when Taehyung had shyly asked about his atelier, he was compelled to show it to him. It wasn’t often that Taehyung asked for anything and although he hadn’t specifically asked to see the room, Jungkook knew he would like it. Taehyung’s smile was also addicting and rare like a precious gem. So, he had left Jimin with Seokjin to cook in the kitchen and had taken Taehyung’s hand and climbed down the stairs. His hand was soft and he could still feel its ghost on his palm.

He was right, Taehyung’s smile was worth it. It was a tiny one, a small curve of his lips, but it was stunning.

His tiger ears twitched when his eyes landed on the painting of him. He approached slowly, taking it in. A hand reached out but he drew it back before it could touch the canvas.

In the painting, Alice was grinning brightly at Taehyung, one of her rainbow butterfly hair-clips clipped on his dark hair. But what Jungkook loved the most about it was Taehyung’s smile. For the first time, with Alice, Taehyung looked genuinely happy. The painting didn’t do the moment justice, he hadn’t managed to capture the tiger hybrid perfectly. He had taken a picture of the two of them and used it as reference but it was difficult, almost impossible, to immortalize Taehyung’s beauty in that moment.

“Do you like it?” Jungkook asked gently.

Taehyung startled as if the painting had enchanted him and Jungkook’s voice broke the spell. He hugged himself with one hand, almost like he wanted to stop himself from touching the painting. “It’s… beautiful.”

“It was a beautiful moment,” Jungkook agreed. “Alice is incredible, right?”

Taehyung nodded slowly. “I… have it. The butterfly. She doesn’t want back… it.”

They both looked at the painting. Jungkook wasn’t sure if they were seeing the same thing but maybe they were.

“Do you want to paint again?” he asked, breaking the silence. He took down the half-finished canvas of a beach from the easel and replaced it with a blank canvas.

Taehyung didn’t hesitate to agree this time. They picked up different brushes, chose a few tubes of oil paint and set themselves to work. Jungkook showed him how to paint a sunset—he had perfected the skill through a lot of observation and many YouTube videos. Taehyung seemed to have fun blending the colors and drawing the shapes of semi-transparent clouds.

They stayed in the atelier for a few hours until they were called for dinner by Hoseok, whose heart-shaped smile at seeing them together in their paint-splattered clothes rivaled the beauty of the sunset. After the meal, Jungkook asked if Taehyung would like to take the painting of him and Alice to his room. They hung it on the wall with Yoongi’s help and went back to the garden together.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

You were filming at Monmouth Manufacturing for the day. They were the last couple of scenes you would be filming there for Season 1. Hopefully—and most probably—, you would see it again next year, or the year after that, filming for Season 2. First, you would have to finish Crooked Kingdom and then towards the end of the year, maybe you could work on the Raven Cycle. Your schedule was already crazy and you were troubled about what that meant for the next year.

A headache was brewing behind your temples and you were trying very hard to ignore it. You had been at the studios since 6 o’clock in the morning and you were going crazy. It would be one of those 15-16 hour days. You could see it coming. The executive producer of Paper Hearts had called to tell you that you were desperately needed for a board meeting for the next season. They had changed the time of the meeting to later in the afternoon to fit your schedule, which proved that it was important. You dreaded the drive to the other side of Los Angeles and what was sure to be a very long discussion.

During your lunch break, you texted Namjoon that you would be late again. He didn’t say anything but you knew he was disappointed. He had to be. You had barely spent any time with them in the past few days. There were also matters you still had to discuss. You hadn’t told the other hybrids about the thing between the three of you and they deserved to know. Your headache got worse just thinking about it.

You flipped through the script during a small break, sipping on your third cup of coffee of the day. It was making you jittery but the other option was falling asleep in your chair.

“Okay, I think we are good to move on to the next scene,” you told Will. “And then we’re done for the day.”

“Should I get someone to call the actors?”

“Yeah, see if they are done with makeup and send them in.” You rolled your neck and let out a heavy sigh. “All things considered it’s going pretty well.”

Will chuckled as he motioned for someone from the staff to come closer. “For someone who’s been here since six, you’re doing remarkably well.”

You waited for him to send the man to fetch the actors before speaking again. “We’ll see about that when we’re done with this scene. If I’m on my feet and awake by then, I deserve an award.”

Will shrugged, leaning back on his chair. “I’ve seen you do worse. Do you remember when we were filming ‘The Grand Masquerade’ in Prague? You were running on three hours of sleep a night for a week. I thought you would fall asleep during filming and wouldn’t wake up for a couple of days.”

“I was younger then,” you shrugged it off. You eyed the script again, focusing on your notes. “ I don’t have the same energy.”

“It was three years ago.”

“Three years can be a long time.”

You could understand that better than anyone, considering that this year sometimes seemed like a decade to you. In a year, your whole life had changed. You were different, everything was different from last year. Three years could be a very long time, indeed. But also the blink of an eye.

One of the actors arrived and you both greeted him. Soon, he was swept away by the movement director.

“I think you need another break,” Will declared in all of his dramatic glory.

You tapped your long nails on your plastic cup, the action was strangely soothing. “I think I need another coffee.”

“You certainly need a break,” Will insisted. “And you certainly don’t need another coffee.”

He had noticed your restlessness, then. “We just came back from a break. And there is no time for another one. After we are done here, promotions for Six of Crows begin then there is the premiere and the tour and they are getting everything ready to begin filming for Season 6 of Paper Hearts. And Crooked Kingdom is next year and I am very behind on that.”

Will’s face did that thing he did whenever he was done with you, his features slacking like he was bored and a little irritated. “You can’t be behind on something that hasn’t even started yet. Be serious.”

“I am. Deadly.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Break. You need a break.”

The rest of the actors arrived then and the subject was dropped in favor of going over the details of the scene with them. They took their places and filming began. There was a place where the scene kept being snagged and you had to go over it four times to get it right and five more to perfect it.

By the end, you were running like you were being hunted to find John and drive to the company building. The meeting as you had expected was long and tiring. At least, it was a productive one. You discussed the script, the new additions, and the schedule. You shared a few worries and disagreements you had and you mostly managed to find the middle ground. Another meeting would be held in a week before filming would officially start in a few weeks.

It was past eleven when you opened the door of the Castle. No one was in the living room, which was to be expected.

“I’m back!” you shouted, even though no one would hear you if they were in the garden. The night was warm and your skin felt stifling. Sweat dotted your forehead and the change of temperature, when you walked inside the air-conditioned Castle, sent a shock through your system. Your legs had turned to stones and you struggled to take off your shoes.

All you wanted was to fall asleep. You opened the balcony door and shouted again that you were back and that you would be in your room. You closed it before you could hear any replies.

In your room, you had to force yourself to change into your pajamas instead of falling face-first onto your bed in your dirty clothes. You didn’t have the energy to take a shower like you usually did at the end of the day. Your appetite had also disappeared. You hadn’t eaten dinner but you weren’t hungry. You were taking off your makeup in the bathroom when there was a knock on your door.

For a moment, you debated not answering but you dismissed the thought instantly.

“Come in,” you called. “I’m in the bathroom.”

You heard the door open and close again. You dragged the cotton pad roughly across your face, you didn’t have the patience to be gentle and it left your skin red. Some days it was just too sensitive.

“Are you alright?” The care in Seokjin’s voice tugged at the tight knot in your chest, loosened it. You glanced at the door but he wasn’t there.

Most of the makeup was gone from your face and you looked like a mess. You threw the cotton pads in the bin and washed your face quickly to get rid of the mascara under your eyes and any stubborn residues of makeup.

Seokjin was standing by your vanity, waiting for you. It wasn’t often that he came to your room. You weren’t used to seeing him there but it felt right.

“For someone who has been running around for more than sixteen hours, I am peachy,” you tried to joke but the delivery was lacking. It was confirmed by Seokjin’s frown.

“That’s too much, even for you. That isn’t healthy.”

“It is what it is,” you said, trying not to sound defensive. “It isn’t something I haven’t done before. And tomorrow’s schedule is easier so it’s alright.”

That didn’t seem to do anything to ease his mind. “Because you did it before, it doesn’t mean you should keep doing that.”

You rubbed your temples, your headache was getting worse. “There are things that need to get done. I can’t just stop because I’m tired. I get calls all day and my inbox is full of emails I haven’t answered yet. I have a million things on my plate, I can’t ignore them.”

“I know,” Seokjin said, his tone softer. He came closer to you and took your hand in his. The touch was grounding. You hadn’t realized you were spiraling until your feet were planted on the earth again. “We know how important your work is and how much effort you have put in to be where we are. It’s admirable and it’s incredible that you’ve managed to do all this. But your health is important too. You can’t keep running with an empty tank. You need to rest too.”

You heaved a sigh and let your head fall forward to rest on his chest. Your nose wasn’t as sensitive as a hybrid’s but breathing in the familiar sweetness calmed you. He hugged you and drew you closer to him, his hand kneading the tense muscles of your shoulders and the back of your neck.

“We missed you,” he said almost in a whisper.

“You always miss me.”

Seokjin stayed quiet but you both knew. They always missed you because you were always gone.

“You should eat something before you fall asleep. Yoongi and I made gnocchi with prosciutto and parmesan and garlic bread with mozzarella. I can bring it here but I think it would be best if you ate in the kitchen. Everyone wants to see you but they don’t want to bother you.”

The simple act of going to the kitchen sounded like climbing a mountain. Your bed looked too attractive, only a meter away and very very soft. Your eyelids were heavy with the need to sleep and yet…

“I’ll come to the kitchen,” you said. Having woken up at five, you hadn’t seen anyone before leaving. The thought of not seeing them at all today left a sour taste in your mouth. “But can we stay here? For a bit?”

Seokjin placed a tender kiss on the crown of your head. “Of course. For as long as you want.”

You lost track of time in his arms but no more than five minutes must have passed by the time you pulled back with a heavy heart. A temporary balm had been applied to the ailments of the day. You could hold yourself up for a few more minutes to eat a little, you had been doing it all day.

Your legs were as heavy as concrete walking to the kitchen. You had to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, otherwise, you might just collapse. There was noise coming from the kitchen but your tired mind couldn’t register what they were saying.

You were surprised to see that everyone was there waiting for you, even Taehyung. Yoongi placed the plates in front of your seat and Jimin added the cutlery. Everyone else was sitting around the table in their usual stools.

Their greetings were quieter than usual and you guessed that they were conscious of how tired you were. You gave them the warmest smile you could master and patted Hoseok’s hair as you passed by to take your seat. The aroma of the food made your stomach growl, you hadn’t realized how hungry you had been before. Your appetite was back. Everything looked incredible as always and you couldn’t wait to dig in.

“Are you all just going to look at me while I eat?” you asked, picking up your fork.

The hybrids looked sheepish at your question.

“We just wanted to see you,” Jungkook said. “You left too early in the morning.”

You had to compose yourself to pierce a couple of gnocchi with your fork and not sigh out loud. Yoongi’s eyes were heavy on you, they were the ones you could detect with the most ease. You were the most aware of him.

“I had too much to do today. They have been bugging me from the studios for days. If I didn’t start early, I would have never finished. And I prefer an early morning to a late night. I tend to work better in the morning.”

You forced the fork to your mouth. You were ravenous but the conversation stalled your appetite.

“I would think that this was considered a late night,” Namjoon pointed out.

The taste, as expected, was heavenly. The creaminess of the parmesan sauce was tied perfectly with the savory crispy prosciutto. In your condition, you felt like it was wasted on you. As hungry as you were, you just wanted to put your fork down and go to sleep. But you couldn’t do that. You were better than that, you could eat something and then you could go to sleep. You could do that, you had done this before. Hadn’t you?

“This isn’t a late night,” you said after you swallowed the delicious bite. You had to eat another one. And another one. “Late nights can be anything from three a.m. to the next morning. This doesn’t happen often but I really had too many things to do. This is just for a few weeks because we’re moving very fast with the Raven Boys and filming for Season 6 of Paper Hearts will start soon. There are a lot of meetings and things they need my opinion on, it will actually be better once filming starts. They don’t need me as much then.”

You pushed the gnocchi around and you could tell they didn’t believe you without looking at them. It was true that your workload was heavier these days but you couldn’t exactly guarantee that it would get better soon. Filming for the Raven Cycle had been going exceptionally well and it was moving faster than you had originally planned. It would be wrapping up by the end of September or by early October at the latest. Wrapping up was a lot of work, the beginning and the end were the busiest parts.

The rest of autumn was going to be very difficult too. There was the premier as well, which added to your workload greatly. It would take up all of November and the work for it would start from October. Maybe December would be calmer. Maybe.

You ate the rest of your meal in relative silence. They didn’t talk more about you leaving early and coming back late although you knew they wanted to. Their voices were quiet as they talked about anything from witches in cartoons to color theory. You let their words play in the background like the sound from a TV as you tried to eat as much as you could.

The result was a half-finished plate of gnocchi and one less garlic bread with mozzarella. Your eyes were closing involuntarily by then, staying closed for longer periods each time. If you didn’t go to sleep now, you would fall face-first into the gnocchi.

You slid off your seat and balanced yourself on numb legs. “Thank you for this, it was delicious. But I really need to go to sleep now.”

“It’s okay,” Seokjin said, glancing at half of the food still on the plate. “You should rest.”

“At what time do you start work tomorrow?” Yoongi asked. He had been silent during your dinner and his voice rang louder than the rest to your ears.

It must have taken a few seconds to navigate the fog in your mind before you could answer. “Filming starts around nine, so I should be there by eight. Half past eight at most.”

“That’s still too early,” Hoseok said, frowning.

You waved their worries off. They had better things to worry about than the job you had been doing for half of your life. “It isn’t too early. I can sleep for a decent number of hours before I have to get ready. It’s alright, really. Goodnight, everyone. Sweet dreams.”

With effort, you dragged your body to your bedroom. You didn’t bother turning on the lights and stumbled to your bed guided only by the moonlight. There wasn’t a point in closing the blinds when you would wake up around the time the sun was rising. The light of your phone was too bright in the darkness and it made your eyes sting as you set an alarm.

A few messages caught your attention but a knock stopped you before you could open them.

“Come in,” you called, setting your phone aside. The door opened and the light from the hallway slipped in, outlining the silhouettes of the two hybrids. “Is everything okay?”

They both nodded and Jimin took a few steps into the room. “Can we sleep here tonight?”

“Both of you?” you asked, half-suppressing a yawn. Unlike Jimin, Jungkook hadn’t slept in your room before and the only time you had shared a bed was in Virginia.

Jungkook’s bunny ears drooped. “I can go, I don’t mind. I just missed you.”

“Sorry, that isn’t how I meant it.” Your surroundings were a bit blurry, the minutes stretched but were also impossibly short. It felt a little like life was a dream when you were tired like this. “Come in, both of you. And close the door behind you. It is blinding me a bit.”

They hurried inside and did as you told them. You couldn’t see them well as they moved through the darkness. They surrounded you, lying on different sides. Jimin didn’t hesitate to draw closer, throwing an arm over your stomach. Jungkook was a little stiffer on your left like he didn’t know how to situate himself. You found his hand, intertwining your fingers, and a quiet sigh escaped his lips.

It felt right, lying between them. Like that was how it was meant to be. But maybe that was the exhaustion talking, the dream realm slipping into the waking world.

“I missed you too,” you whispered. “Now sleep. I have an alarm set for the morning.”

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

Summer bled seamlessly into autumn. The change wasn’t apparent in the Castle, autumn had only arrived in name. The heat was still there and would remain for some time. During the days, it still made sweat drip down your temples the few times you filmed outside the studios but the nights were comfortable and moon-bright.

You had a couple of hours free between takes and nothing to do so you got into your car (John had taken the day off to spend some time with Alice) and started the engine. “Nothing to do” was a relative term of course. There were many things you could be doing, countless extra little tasks that crowded your thoughts, but you disregarded all of them. You had been spending whole days away from home and you were beginning to feel guilty about it.

On your way back, you stopped by your favorite homemade gelato shop. In San Diego, you had gone for gelato the first day and the hybrids had loved it. You had made it a habit to get gelato at the beginning of each day during ComicCon, it was your little ritual. You had ordered gelato a couple of times to the Castle as well but with eight people, it didn’t last more than a day.

There were dozens of flavors behind the display case, all of them looking delectable. You got a wide variety, remembering the flavors they liked the most. You picked hazelnut, tiramisu, chocolate chip cookie, almond, caramel, coconut, cream and sour cherry, nutella, and vanilla and asked for 1 kilo of each to be delivered to your house. It was too hot and your house was too far to transport them in your car.

You didn’t have to wait more than a few minutes outside the gate before the delivery boy arrived. You got the bags full of gelato containers from him and sent him off with a hefty tip. The Castle was a long way from the heart of the city and anyone willing to make deliveries there deserved a nice tip.

Unlocking and opening the door was a struggle but you managed. You shouted you were back and fast-walked down the stairs, the plastic bags digging into your hands. On the second level, you were faced with Jungkook, who was also climbing the stairs to reach you. He looked as if he was ready to attack you with a hug before noticing the bags.

“A little help?” you asked, raising the bags a little higher. Your arms protested loudly.

Jungkook quickly took most of the bags from you and if you hadn’t been the one carrying them before, you would have believed they were light as a feather with the way he was holding them. “What are all these?” he asked, peeking into the bags. His eyes sparkled and his smile widened in realization when he spotted the containers. “Is that–?”

“Gelato,” you said, a little proud of yourself for thinking of making the stop on your way back.

Jungkook’s steps turned into little hops. “You are the best! How much did you get? Are these all different flavors?”

“You will see…”

Jungkook made a sound close to a petulant whine. “Come on,” he said, dragging the vowels. “What are they? Did you get hazelnut?”

“We’re almost there. You’ll see in a minute.” The garden was coming into view as you climbed down to the last level but Jungkook still turned back to pout at you. “Dramatic bunny,” you muttered lowly but not low enough for his enhanced hearing not to pick it up. You didn’t mind, his giggles were cute.

At the bottom of the stairs, Namjoon and Seokjin were waiting for you.

Seokjin squeezed your wrist in greeting before saying, “He is a very dramatic bunny.”

“Hey! You should be on my side!”

Seokjin raised his eyebrows. “And why is that?” And that set off a round of bickering as they walked to the table to set down the bags.

Despite your protests, Namjoon took the last bags from you. “You should accept a little help from time to time,” he said firmly. You knew that he meant it for more than this. You decided to ignore it for now, you would overthink this later.

“Everyone, gather around! I brought gelato!” you called.

In a few minutes, everyone was gathered around the table. Hoseok, upon seeing the many containers of gelato, had done a happy dance, kissed your cheek and ran upstairs with Seokjin to get bowls and spoons. Jimin had wrapped himself around your back and was licking his lips, which was highly distracting. You shouldn’t be thinking about this.

Taehyung was the quietest one, as he usually was. He was sitting next to Yoongi, looking at all the containers with parted lips.

“I got gelato for us,” you told him. “It is really good. I got a lot of flavors so you can try as many as you want.”

“Gelato,” Taehyung repeated softly, gazing at the containers spread over the table.

Hoseok and Seokjin arrived with eight bowls, too many spoons and three ice cream scoops—you didn’t even know you had that many—and set them down around the table. You busied yourself with opening all the containers. You already knew which flavors you wanted so you grabbed one of the scoops and served yourself three scoops of ice cream.

Jimin had hooked his chin over your shoulder and wasn’t making any move to serve himself. That was up to you then.

“Which flavor do you want?” you asked him, dipping the scoop into the cup of water.

He rubbed his cheek against your shoulder lazily. “Hmmm, I think I want to try a few before I decide.”

You decided to indulge him, you liked it when he got playful and joked with you. You preferred when he was confident and asked for what he wanted. It was beautiful to witness how much he had changed through the months. You dipped a spoon into the flavors in your bowl first and brought them to his mouth. He savored each spoonful, humming and licking his full lips. He was so close to you, if you turned completely your noses would touch. How did you always end up in these situations lately?

“I want that too,” Jungkook said, pouting and pointing at your spoon. He was sitting at the bench and he had his own bowl in front of him, filled with four scoops of gelato.

“You want almond?” you asked.

“No, I want to be fed too.”

“You really are a baby,” Seokjin said. “Is that what’s going to be happening now? Whatever one has the other wants too?”

Jungkook looked away, taking his spoon again disappointed. “No, it just looked nice. It felt nice to be cared for when we were at the lake. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I just wanted to ask.”

At the lake, you had been feeding them strawberries dipped in chocolate and your mind had run too wild. You should stop thinking about that. “I want to, you are just a little far. I can’t really reach.”

Jimin was about to say something, probably offer a solution but before he could, Seokjin had picked up Jungkook and plopped him down in his lap.

“Here, I will feed you, you big baby. Is this alright?” he asked, ever caring.

Jungkook squirmed a little but seemed pleased, a light flush settling on his cheeks. “Yes, of course.” He was as tall as Seokjin but in his lap, he looked much smaller. He opened his mouth obediently when Seokjin brought the spoon to his lips.

Your eyes strayed to Taehyung, you were hyper-aware of him whenever you were in the same place. His eyes had that look that you couldn’t understand, it was there every time you interacted with the other hybrids lately. They were telling you that he was opening up more these days but to you, he remained a mystery.

In the end, Jimin ate most of your gelato and you scooped some chocolate chip cookie into your bowl because you knew how much he liked it. Hoseok and Namjoon closed the containers and carried them upstairs, they returned and went to sit by the pool. Yoongi finished quickly and lied down under the shade of the tree closest to them. Jungkook grew sleepy and turned to the side, laying his head on Seokjin’s shoulder. Jimin joined them, hugging Jungkook from the side.

Taehyung stayed at the bench like he wasn’t sure where he should go, his empty bowl in front of him.

“Did you like it?” you asked, gesturing to his bowl. Another reminder of your shortcomings, you didn’t even know how much he had progressed in English.

“Yes, thank you,” he replied. The low timbre of his voice surprised you each time. You heard it so rarely that you didn’t get the chance to get used to it.

You should make an effort to talk to him, avoiding him would only make matters worse. But you couldn’t find anything to say. What exactly could you say to him, who had lived most of his life like a caged animal, who you had bought at an illegal auction?

Suddenly, you had the equivalent of a light bulb lighting up next to your head in a cartoon.

“Hobi told me you liked the painting of the pomegranate in the gallery,” you said then realized that pomegranate was probably a word he couldn’t understand and proceeded to explain the painting. “It has glass around it and a hand is holding it. Am I making sense?”

Seokjin looked at you amused but Taehyung nodded in understanding. “It is beautiful.”

“Right, it is,” you agreed. “The artist, the one who made it, is holding an exhibition in LA. We could go if you would like.”

You had bought the painting from her long before her fame had grown and spread. There was a magic to the way Eliana Velasco painted, everything came alive under her brush strokes. The painting of the pomegranate had enchanted you and given your history, you had to have it.

“Go?” he repeated, clearly confused.

“Yeah, to a place that has many of her paintings. You can see them there. Would you like that?” Talking to him, you were more nervous than at any of the award shows you had attended the past few years, more nervous than during any contract negotiations.

Taehyung’s eyes widened a fraction before he nodded. “Can I… see them?”

“Of course,” you said.

Jungkook stirred against Seokjin’s shoulder. “Are we going to an exhibition?”

“If you want to.”

“Are you going to be there too?” he asked and that was harder to answer. Your schedule was the busiest it had been in months and you were drowning in deadlines and responsibilities. You were saved from answering him by a notification on your phone. The numbers displaying the time showed that you were late to leave. You pocketed your phone and with quick goodbyes, you disappeared.

 You were so stupid. You had offered to take Taehyung to an exhibition when work was wrapped around you like a noose. But you had panicked. Eliana had sent you an invitation for the opening night, promising there would be French champagne and hors d’ oeuvres. You had attended plenty of her exhibitions and had many conversations about art and life and their inter-connected philosophy while drinking champagne or wine and staring at paintings.

Although Taehyung’s situation was solved and Amelia had let you know some time ago that legally you were safe, going to the opening night didn’t sound like a good idea. There would be many journalists there who would love to write a piece about you and your sudden decision to adopt so many hybrids. They could go without you another day, that wouldn’t be too bad. Taehyung looked so hopeful and now that you had said it, you couldn’t take it back. You could text Eliana and ask her if she could meet you there one day so you could introduce her to them.

You should try and get some time off.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

It was like a curse, to not be able to sleep in the very few hours you could afford to. Your bed was empty and cold and you couldn’t get comfortable regardless of how much you twisted and turned. Your limbs were too long and awkward and nothing felt right. All the wild thoughts you couldn’t be bothered with during the day showed up one after the other to be examined from every angle and set aside to pick up the next one. It was a losing battle and yet you insisted on fighting it every time before giving in, getting up and popping a pill into your mouth.

You returned the bottle to the cabinet and closed it. After Seoul, for some time it had returned to your bedside table but after a couple of weeks had passed it felt like you were admitting defeat by keeping it there. The image in the mirror was a far cry from the celebrity you were supposed to be. The darkness under your eyes formed bruises, getting worse by the day. Your skin had grown pale and your hair was a mess, you hadn’t had enough strength to braid it before attempting to fall asleep.

You considered going back to bed but the pills could take up to an hour to work when your insomnia reached its peak and you were craving a snack. Something small and sweet sounded nice.

Once again, you had returned late and eaten dinner alone. Your appetite was lacking although the food was delicious. Sometimes, it got like that when you were too tired. You had promised yourself to limit early mornings and late nights but that had changed when you had texted Eliana about the exhibition. She had offered to accompany you to the exhibition on one of the days it was closed to the public and you were more than thankful to her but that also meant that you would have to take half the day off.

The TV was on in the living room, subtitles displayed at the bottom of the screen with no sound. Namjoon was sitting on the couch, arms crossed and watching with distracted eyes. Everyone else had departed to their rooms for the night. His ears twitched as you took a few more steps and he turned to look at you.

You waved your hand, trying to offer him a smile. “Hey.”

He sat up straighter. “Hi. Why are you still awake? Do you need something?”

“Just some water. Maybe a snack.”

“You were really tired when you went to bed. Did you not fall asleep?” he asked, frowning.

You shrugged. “I couldn’t. It’s one of those nights. If I eat something, maybe I will fall asleep easier. A full stomach and all that.” You didn’t mention the pill, it was awkward to do that. “Don’t let me disturb you. I’ll just grab something and go back to bed.”

Namjoon got up and in a few strides, he was standing in front of you. He caressed your cheek, searching for something in your eyes. You weren’t sure what he could see there. “I’ll join you. Let’s sit together for a bit. I haven’t seen you properly in a few days.”

“But you must have stayed back to watch that,” you said. A documentary was playing on the TV, something about Egyptian history.

“It doesn’t matter. I would rather spend my time with you. Unless you don’t want to, then I’ll go back to the couch and be very quiet.”

You slid your hand in his, the touch grounding you in a night that felt both like you were wide awake and caught in a blurry dream. “I would like some company. I’ve missed you too. I’m–”

“Don’t say you’re sorry. There is no need for that.”

He leaned down, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. His lips lingered for a few moments, warmth spreading inside you. You raised your head and captured his lips in a kiss. The worst part was that you couldn’t remember how long it had been since you had last shared a kiss. His lips were velvet as you remembered them. This was home. Running back and forth, you had forgotten what it felt like.

You pulled back and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”

In the kitchen, Namjoon stood next to you as you rummaged through the cupboards for something that looked appetizing to you. The cupboards were full and yet nothing was calling to you until Namjoon remembered that Seokjin had made ice cream sandwiches with the gelato you had bought and various kinds of cookies. That sounded like heaven so you opened the freezer and chose two of them.

You leaned against the counter, shoulder to shoulder with Namjoon, while you devoured them. Gelato might not have been the best idea to put you to sleep but they tasted heavenly. The pill would start working sooner or later.

“Is it worse today?” he asked. He didn’t elaborate further, he didn’t have to.

The ice cream sandwiches were gone and you were left holding the plate. You licked your fingers and placed it in the sink. “I have a lot of things on my mind. I should be too tired to think but apparently, I’m never too tired for that.”

“Anything in particular?”

“Everything, more or less.” You turned to the side, facing him. “There’s too much to think about and not enough time. Never enough time,” you muttered the last sentence to yourself. If you had all the time in the world it would still not be enough, you would find a way to fill it. “I’ve been putting everything off. Everything I don’t want to deal with or I don’t know how to deal with. And the longer I put it off, the worse it gets.”

He was quiet for a few seconds, taking in what you said and pondering how to reply. It was beautiful, how his mind worked and how attentive he was. “If there is any way we can help you, anything I–we can do, we will. Whatever you want to do, we will support you. Sometimes, in our head, we can make things look bigger, more scary than they are. Do you want to talk about them? Maybe if you talk about what you have to do or what you’re worried about, it will be easier to work out the best way to approach them.”

That was something your therapist used to tell you, that while things festered in your head, they would only get more tangled and more daunting. She had suggested writing them down or talking to her about them. She was right, you knew she was right and that it helped and yet you hadn’t stopped to do that.

You took a deep breath, debating if it would be better to find a notebook and figure out your mess on paper instead of dragging Namjoon into it. But there was a part of you that itched to confide in him and give in to the way you felt safe when you were together. 

“I don’t even know where to start,” you confessed.

You started slowly, with your usual worries about Taehyung, how he was adjusting and how little time you were spending with him and if that was for the best. It was the same old spiralling, you had poked and prodded at it so many times and Namjoon must have been bored of listening to the same rehashed concerns, yet he didn’t interrupt you. You unravelled steadily, once you started speaking, you couldn’t stop. There was the filming for the Raven Cycle, the final touches of Six of Crows, the premiere and the weeks of promotions and the anticipation for the reviews of the critics and the audiences. The book you hadn’t finished and the deadline you couldn’t meet.

You rubbed your hands over your face. It had been so long since most of those problems had surfaced and you were ashamed that you hadn’t faced them yet. “And we haven’t told anyone about us. We said we would and I know you’re waiting for me but I’m never here. And I don’t know how.”

Namjoon caught your hand and brought it to his lips. Lowering it, his thumb rubbed soothing circles on your skin. “It doesn’t have to be complicated. They will understand and they will be happy for us. You shouldn’t let this keep you awake, everything will be alright. They are our pack, this won’t change anything.”

“But…” The anxiety that persisted. “Yoongi. What if his reaction is… bad. You know what he said.”

“That was before.” He sounded sure but there was a tightness at his jaw. “It is different now. He is different, you can see it. He is softer around the edges, he even helps Jin in the kitchen. He’s settling in.”

 “Because he doesn’t know,” you said. “You remember what he said, right? That night? That I adopted you so I could take my pick and now there is Jin and it’s just too much like that, can’t you see it?”

“It’s nothing like that. We both–” Namjoon stiffened, his gaze locking somewhere towards the entrance. “Yoongi?”

Your heart rate sped up, a knot forming in your chest. Yoongi walked in, his socked feet not making a sound. How much had he heard? The last minutes of the conversation replayed in your mind in a panicked mess. What had you said? How long had he been there, listening to you, before Namjoon noticed him? What conclusions would he reach?

Instinctively, you tried to get away from Namjoon but his hold on your hand kept you there.

The panther’s face didn’t give anything away. You couldn’t read him regardless of how much you studied him. You didn’t know his tells, if he had any. His expression was a carefully curated mask of apathy and you couldn’t see past it. Or you didn’t dare to try. Maybe you were too afraid of what you would find.

“How did you know it was me?” he asked, voice missing some of its smoothness.

Namjoon held your hand tighter. “You are the only one who can sneak up on me.”

You swallowed down your anxiety and tried to think of him the way he was the past few months, when he helped you with rearranging your office, him playing the piano in the afternoons, your walk at the lake, the vague memory of him helping you up to your room when you were drunk in Virginia. But they were all pushed back by the memory of his snarl and his sharp teeth that night.

“How much did you hear?” you asked, forcing your voice to be steady. He was going to learn of it at some point and as scared as you were, you had to face this.

“Enough.” His tail curled behind him and stilled. “You are afraid of my reaction to something. Is that it?”

Your eyes locked with Namjoon’s and he nodded. This time you weren’t going to run. This time would be different. “Yes, there is something we wanted to tell you. Something we wanted to tell everyone. I didn’t know how to tell you, that’s all.”

“You can tell me now,” he said and it sounded almost like a dare. You weren’t sure if you were walking into a trap.

Namjoon spoke up before you could. “You remember that the two of us are… We are together, as humans would say, romantically.” Yoongi nodded. You couldn’t imagine how he could forget. “That extends to Jin now. We love him and he loves us.” It was almost like he was challenging him to say anything but Yoongi was quiet.

“We didn’t know how to tell everyone. And you…” You didn’t know how to finish.

He scoffed. “I was an asshole.” One side of his lips was twisted up but something about it hurt. “You didn’t want to tell me because I was an asshole when I found out about you two. Worse than an asshole.” He dropped his gaze to the floor, his shoulders were slumped as if in defeat. For a moment, you wished to reassure him but what he was saying was the truth. “I understand. I’m not– I’m happy for you. And I’m sorry.”

He turned to leave but, through your confusion, you knew you didn’t want him to go.

“Wait,” you called. He stopped but didn’t turn around. “Let’s talk. We need to talk.”

Yoongi looked at you over his shoulder. This time, you studied him without your heavy-duty lenses, without the fear of discovery. Like the expression of an actor, you picked apart the tiniest details to paint a picture. When your own barriers were gone, it was easier to see.

“What is there to talk about?” he asked.

“A lot. Things we should have talked about sooner.” Communication was a golden rule in your handbook and you used to be good at it, you tried to be good at it. The misunderstanding trope was overused and useless when the issue could be resolved with a simple conversation.

It was about time you stopped walking on eggshells.

“We never truly talked about it,” you started. “And I didn’t really want to because things were going so well. They are going well. But you are my family now.” His lips parted, only slightly but you caught it. “I can’t know how all of you see it, if it’s the same for you, but that’s the way I feel. And I want to be honest with you. I still think about what you said in the garden and sometimes it affects me more than I would like. However, I would like to put it behind us but I want to know what you think.”

His eyes were sharp but you weren’t fooled this time. “Can we? Can we really put it behind us?”

 Namjoon was silent next to you, he was letting you handle it.

“I think we are already beginning to.” You took a deep breath in preparation. There was a question that could make or break this peace between you and you were both dreading and dying to ask. “Do you think that I’m taking advantage of them because I love them romantically?”

His eyes widened. “No,” he denied sharply. “No, of course I don’t.”

It was like a knot unravelling in your heart. Although there was a part of you that had known, the relief was still there. “Then we can move past it. We can try again. We are already trying again.”

“How?” Yoongi asked and he sounded smaller, much smaller than you were used to.

The pills were beginning to act, it was a light drowsiness at first. You had to do this quickly before you fell asleep and crumbled down on the floor.

“The same way we are doing now. By doing our best.”

“I am trying” His hands clenched into fists and loosened again. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

“You don’t need to be. Not anymore. As long as I know that we are fine.” Your eyes were growing heavier and the fog was slipping in. “I think we should go to bed now,” you said. It was getting more and more difficult to open your eyes.

You must have stumbled or something because you heard Yoongi ask, “Are you alright?” at the same time as Namjoon’s “Do you want help?”

You waved them both off. “I’m fine. It’s the pills.” It was easier to admit when you were almost asleep. One moment your feet were on the floor and the next you were up in the air. “Joon?”

“I’m taking you to your room. It’s time for sleep.” One of his arms was under your knees and the other was holding you close to his body.

“Namjoon, I can walk,” you protested weakly. Namjoon shushed you and you let it go. You were so incredibly sleepy and you were safe there. You relaxed in his arms and finally closed your eyes.

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Most of the flowers were drooping in the garden of the Castle. Namjoon and Jimin were attempting to keep them alive for as long as possible before fall swept them away. They cut off the dead leaves, watered the plants and applied the appropriate fertilisers. There were also varieties that lasted all year and the gardener had taught them how to take care of them too.

“These won’t last much longer,” Jimin said, running his fingers gently over the petals of a slowly wilting flower.

“They will bloom again in spring,” Namjoon reassured him. “Each season has its beauty and these belong to spring and summer. Autumn has its own colors too but they are different.”

Jimin pulled his hand back and grabbed the watering can. “I know, but I will miss them.”

Namjoon patted his head and Jimin preened under his touch, chasing his hand. He was too cute sometimes and Namjoon adored him. “It’s okay to miss it but you can also be happy about the new things that are coming. Miss Roberts said she will bring sunflowers and hydrangeas to plant next week, it will add some color. When something ends, something else begins.”

Jimin giggled, watering the flowers although they would be dead next week. “Nora has told you many times to call her by her name.”

Namjoon rubbed the back of his head. “I forgot. I’m trying.”

Yoongi came out of the house, a book in his hand. He had been visiting the library more lately. Namjoon had been wondering where he had been. The rest of the pack had holed up in the cinema room to watch a comedy and, like the two of them, Yoongi had opted out but they hadn’t seen him since.

“Yoongi!” Jimin called, waving with the hand that wasn’t holding the watering can. “Come here. Sit with us, we are almost done.”

Yoongi paused, glancing at the table and benches on the other side of the garden.

“Come on,” Namjoon called for him as well. That was enough to sway Yoongi’s decision, who made his way to them.

Jimin bounced up to him, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the flower bushes they were tending to. Yoongi grumbled about the rough treatment but Namjoon wasn’t fooled, the upturn of his lips was small but unmistakable.

Jimin explained to him what they had been doing so far and Yoongi listened to him attentively.

“They are beautiful. You have been doing a really good job. Both of you,” he said, his eyes darting to Namjoon.

He was tense, it wasn’t obvious but Namjoon could pick it up. He gave him a smile, hoping he would relax. Yoongi confused him but he thought he could understand him a little better now. “Thank you. What are you reading?”

“Oh, this?” Yoongi raised the book a little and shrugged. “I saw it and I thought it was interesting.”

“I haven’t seen that before,” Namjoon said.

The cover was painted in shades of yellow and orange, framing two pyramids. Without saying anything, Yoongi handed him the book. It was called The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho and it was a relatively short book. He turned it around to look at the synopsis and Jimin peeked at it over his shoulder. Namjoon wondered if you had read it or if it had been sitting there unread on your shelves for years. There were so many books in your library and you had admitted that you hadn’t read most of them, but you had also told them that once upon a time you used to read a hundred books a year.

“It does sound interesting,” Namjoon commented, passing back the book. “You should tell me if it is any good when you finish it.”

Yoongi looked down at the book’s cover. “I will.”

Jimin declared that they were done with gardening for the day and grabbed both of their hands, pulling them to the shade underneath one of the trees. They sat down and he situated himself with his head in Namjoon’s lap and his legs in Yoongi’s. Yoongi cracked open his book and began to read while Jimin talked about flowers.

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“And… CUT!” you called. It was repeated again by Will and the actors relaxed, the expressions of their characters wiped clean. “That will be it for today. Thank you everyone!”

The crew buzzed as the cameras and the sound systems were turned off. People were talking to their earpieces and others were giving pats on the back to each other for another successful day on set. Crew members passed by and offered their congratulations to you.

“What are you rushing for?” Will asked.

You continued throwing everything carelessly into your backpack. “I’m visiting the gallery today, remember?”

“Right, that’s today,” he said, snapping his fingers. Some things stuck with you in entertainment. For example, the overexaggerated gestures. “I thought you had a company meeting dressed like this. A very important one.”

In the morning, you had put more thought into your outfit compared to a simple filming day. You were wearing tan trousers and a form-fitting black top embellished by a crossover belt that wrapped around the body and was tied together with a golden Medusa head emblem. The heels, the golden earrings, bracelets, and rings confirmed that filming wasn’t the only thing on your schedule.

You slung your backpack over your shoulder (you would switch it later with a black Dior bag you had in your car). “No meetings for me today. I really have to go. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”

“Have a good time, boss!”

You greeted any familiar faces on your way to your car and sent a quick message to Namjoon that you would be picking them up soon. The 8-seater car was an impulse purchase at a time when you had a larger friend group. You hadn’t used it much, only for a couple of short trips to private beaches.

You checked your appearance in the visor mirror and reapplied some powder and lipstick. You looked good enough, there wasn’t much more you could do.

The hybrids were waiting by the fountain. They had dressed nicely for the occasion, wearing some of the more formal outfits you had bought for them. You could feel the excitement in the air as they climbed into the car. It had been a long time since you had gone to the city like this. Jimin was quick to slide into the passenger seat, followed by a little happy dance at his success.

The exhibition was taking place in Central Los Angeles, housed in a tall and wide building that appeared to be made up of several cubes that jutted out of the main structure. Jungkook and Hoseok had their phones out, taking photos of the strange building. Distantly, you remembered coming here before but you couldn’t place when or why.

Eliana was waiting for you inside wearing a simple flowing blue dress and a large smile. You greeted each other with a hug and proceeded to introduce the boys to her. She shook their hands enthusiastically and in a few seconds she had already engaged them in a conversation about art. Usually, she talked quickly like she was rushing to get everything out before she forgot but she was talking slowly now, using simpler words and waiting for Hoseok to translate whenever he deemed he should.

She guided you through the gallery, floating ahead of you. She gave explanations of some of her works while she let others speak for themselves. Taehyung’s eyes were sparkling while she talked, in a way you had never seen before. His smile stayed on during your whole visit, big and boxy, and you finally felt like you were doing something right.

The other hybrids seemed to be enjoying themselves as well. Namjoon was asking plenty of questions about the meaning behind the paintings and her inspiration and Jungkook was very interested in the more technical aspect of her work. She readily answered all of their questions and when you pointed out that Jungkook spent a lot of his time painting, she encouraged him to show her some of his work. Although he was shy, hiding behind his floppy ears at first, Eliana managed to convince him to show her a few of the paintings he had on his phone. She was stunned when you told her he had only been painting for a few months and Jungkook grew even shier when she showered him in compliments.

At the end of the tour, she let you wander the gallery by yourselves for some time and then suggested going to the gallery’s gardens to hang out. The gardens were of considerable size, about as large as the inside of the gallery. Neatly trimmed flower bushes lined the pathways and plenty of modern sculptures decorated the space. A large fountain stood proudly in the middle and there was an artfully made gazebo raised on a platform at a far corner, overlooking the gardens.

You offered to go get some coffee and some baked goods from a nearby bakery/coffee shop you had found on the internet. Eliana protested at first but she gave in quickly at the promise of an iced Spanish latte and muffins. Namjoon volunteered to accompany you, although what surprised you was Yoongi offering to come along.

“You need more than two people to carry everything,” was the only explanation you got. You couldn’t deny that he was right.

He hadn’t been acting any different towards you since you had let him know about the nature of your relationship with Seokjin, so you acted the same way you always did too. His quiet acceptance was more than enough for you and it was a great weight off your shoulders.

You were talking about the exhibition, not surprised that Yoongi had been paying close attention to the paintings as he recalled his favorites, when a call of your name surprised you. The voice was familiar and, for a few seconds, you couldn’t place it. Until you could. And the peace froze over.

You turned around to find Jacob waving at you in the quiet street. His hair was cut much shorter than the last time you had seen him and his white loose pants and half-unbuttoned shirt made him look like he had just stepped off a yacht party. Maybe he had. His thousand-watt smile, reminiscent of a politician, was fixed firmly on his face.

“Hey, I knew it was you,” he said when he caught up with you, like he had won a prize. He pulled you into a quick hug and you didn’t know what to do with your hands until he let you go. “Haven’t seen you in ages.”

You wiped invisible dust from your trousers. “Yeah, I’ve been very busy.”

“You were never  one for rest, right? The woman always running, always working, never has time for anything else,” he joked and it shouldn’t bother you the way it did. He gestured to Yoongi and Namjoon, “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Namjoon looked politely curious and Yoongi downright uninterested.

“Right,” you said. “This is Yoongi and Namjoon. And this is Jacob.”

Their eyes sharpened the moment you uttered the name.

“I’m just Jacob now?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “After three years? Not even a friend?”

“I don’t know. It isn’t like we’ve spoken since last year.”

Initially after your breakup, you used to imagine how your next meeting would go and how the two of you would act around each other. Three years was a long time to share your life with someone to then go back to being strangers. You hadn’t entertained the idea much since then, you had found yourself thinking about him less and less. Still, whenever you thought about meeting him, you hadn’t anticipated the bitterness that grazed your insides.

Jacob chuckled awkwardly. “Well, you said you were busy. I have been busy as well, I’m working with a few very big names, you know. I got my hands on some of the best songs of the year.”

“I’m sure they’re great.”

“Haven’t you listened to any of them? You must have heard a few of them. They were everywhere.” Jacob was talented enough and well-connected and he sure liked to brag about it. “I asked Zayn and he said you were doing well, working of course. And you got yourself some company too.”

You clenched your jaw to bite back the harshness burning on the tip of your tongue. You hated the way he said it and the way it reminded you of your mother.

“It was a bit of a surprise, I’ll admit. I don’t remember you ever talking about adopting, you didn’t seem a big fan of the idea. No offense of course,” he directed the last part to Namjoon and Yoongi.

“Things change,” you said dismissively. “We have to go. There are people waiting for us.”

Jacob’s smile didn’t falter but his eyes narrowed a fraction for only a second. He may only be part of your past but you could still read him well. Was it the same for him? Had he ever been able to read you in the first place?

“Of course,” he said. “I’ll see you around.”

“Sure.”

You turned around and started walking, Namjoon and Yoongi following you. Last year you loved him enough to move in with him and this year you couldn’t stand to be in his presence. You thought you would feel nothing when you’d see him again but the truth was that everything about him irritated you. His poised smile, his bragging, his nonchalance.

Why was he able to get under your skin like this? You were over him, you didn’t want anything to do with him. But you were supposed to be civil, uninterested like the heroines who didn’t raise more than an eyebrow in the direction of their exes. It irked you and the way he looked at Namjoon and Yoongi irked you more. You had defended him to everyone, he wasn’t a bad guy, he didn’t treat you badly but as time passed you were starting to realize some things you couldn’t see clearly before.

Yoongi was the first one to speak up when you had almost reached the coffee shop, “What an asshole.”

“He isn’t–” You stopped yourself and laughed. “You know what? He is, a little bit.”

“A little bit?” he repeated, doubtfully.

“I don’t want to judge but…” The way Namjoon paused told you everything you needed to know. “I had to try very hard to stop myself from growling at him.”

Yoongi smirked. “Down, wolf.” Namjoon ignored him.

“Thank you for not doing that, that wouldn’t have ended well. Please, don’t growl at people.”

“I don’t know if I can promise that.”

Well, you couldn’t say that you minded that much. You could admit to yourself that Namjoon growling was kind of hot. And if the situation called for it…

“I didn’t like the way he spoke to you,” Namjoon said. “It was weird. There was something about it that was wrong, almost demeaning.”

“He can be like that sometimes. Like he is above almost everyone else, like some things are beneath him. He would make those stupid comments and I would always try to ignore them,” He was always supportive of your career and proud of your success but he had never shown interest in any of your other hobbies and likes. Reading was boring, paintings were overrated and overpriced, drinking tea was pretentious. “I never thought I would be one of those shit-talking their exes unless they did something really bad.”

“I support this shit-talking,” Namjoon said.

“I do too,” Yoongi agreed.

It made a strangely pleasant feeling run up your spine. “We’re here,” you said, instead of continuing the conversation. According to Google Maps, you had arrived at the coffee shop.

As you walked inside, you might have heard Yoongi saying lowly to Namjoon, “I kind of wanted to punch him.”

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You were sitting on the chair in front of your vanity, braiding your hair and stuck thinking of the same scene. Before going to his room for the night, Taehyung had approached you and thanked you for taking him to the exhibition. His expression was sincere and you finally felt like you were moving in the right direction. 

When there was a knock at your door, you already knew who it was before you called for them to come in.

“Can we sleep here tonight?” Jimin asked, Jungkook draped over his back.

“When have I ever told you no?” you asked, finishing your braid and securing it in place with a silky scrunchy. “Go on.”

They both hopped on the bed, bouncing a little and sharing delightful smiles. You watched them through the mirror as they rolled around, holding each other.

Jimin looked up from where he was tangled with Jungkook, holding your gaze through his reflection. “Are you coming?”

“I am, I am,” you said, putting your brush back in the drawer.

You joined them on the bed, their hands quickly reaching for you and situating you between them like the last time. Jimin purred in contentment, rubbing his face in your collarbones. Jungkook held onto your arm and you could feel his breath caressing your neck with how close he was lying. 

An unwanted echo of what Jacob had said entered your mind.  Always working, never having time for anything else or anyone else, even the ones most important to you. You were gone most of the days and it made sense that they wanted to be close to you at least at night.

“Did you have fun today?” you asked them to distract yourself. 

“I loved it! Eliana was so nice and her paintings were incredible,” Jimin said.  “I took so many photos, my phone must be full of them.”

Jungkook nuzzled up closer to you. “I took many photos too. Can we print the one we took of us all together? I want to put it in our room.”

“Yes, please,” Jimin added cutely.

“Of course. You should print a couple more too, if you want, and choose some pretty frames for them. There is a lot of free space in your room.”

They cheered a little. You lied there in comfortable silence but you could detect a nervous energy in the air. It was in the way Jimin was fidgeting with the hem of your silk night shirt and how tightly Jungkook was gripping your arm. You waited until they were ready.

“We actually… we have something to tell you,” Jimin said.

“Anything you want, kitten,” you said, running your fingers through his hair. You could see how the use of the nickname affected him, squirming a little as his smile grew sweeter. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I just–” He looked at Jungkook, who gave him an encouraging nod. “I kissed him, we kissed. And… it makes me very happy.”

Jungkook caught Jimin’s hand that was pulling at your shirt and intertwined their fingers, laying their joint hands on your stomach. “He makes me very happy too,” he said in a small voice.

The new knowledge was like a puzzle piece sliding into place. It felt natural to you that their relationship would progress like that. The way they looked at each other, the way they touched each other, was evidence of a deeply intimate connection. If the image your mind conjured of them kissing lit a spark in your chest, you hid it even from yourself.

“Thank you for telling me. If it makes you happy, then I am happy too. All I want for you is to be happy and know how loved you are. Come here.” You pulled them closer and placed lingering kisses on their foreheads. “I will always support you. Always.” You took a decision then. You couldn’t put it off any longer. “I have something to tell you too. Jimin already knows but Jungkook, I would like for you to know too. I don’t know how to say this exactly and I’m sorry we’ve kept this from you but I, Namjoon and Jin have been romantically involved. All of us. We have been kissing too.”

“Oh.” Jungkook paused. “That makes sense.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that, Jimin joining you. “I mean you’re very close and it just makes sense. We’re pack and I think that most packs are a little in love with each other, in one way or another,” he said. His cheeks felt hot against your shoulder.

In one way or another. He was right, it was such a special bond and you could imagine that for hybrids who felt the sense of pack deeper, the lines were easily blurred. A door opened in your mind but you closed it again forcefully.

Jimin fit his face in the crook of your neck. “I love you. I love you so much, all of you. Our pack. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you. I don’t know if I deserve this.” His voice was wet.

“You do,” you stated. “You deserve everything and more. And we love you so much. So much.”

Jungkook squeezed his hand. “We love you, Jiminie. Our pack wouldn’t be complete without you. We need you to be whole. We need everyone.”

Their hands remained linked over your abdomen as you fell asleep.

Please comment and reblog it motivates me to keep writing

#bts #bts x reader #bts hybrid au #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader #hoseok x reader #yoongi x reader #seokjin x reader #taehyung x reader #bts angst #poly!bts x reader #bts poly #bts fic #bts scenarios #bts hurt/comfort #fluff

[nmjoo-n]

FADE INTO YOU ☕️ jeon jungkook.

pair. barista! jungkook x f. reader | genre. friends with benefits, romance, jealousy, angst | warnings. possessiveness, profanity, pet names, unprotected sex, slight toxic behavior, degradation kink, zenophilia, oral sex, edging, spit kink, exhibitionism, smoking | word count. 4.7k

synopsis. “oh angel, for how fucking adorable you are, you sure don’t use that pretty little brain of yours much,” or jungkook has no limits when it comes to you. you’re his, he’s gonna get it through your head, eventually.

You dared bring another fucking guy in his work place.

Was it deliberate? God knows you love your little fucking mind games, especially if Jungkook’s on the receiving end. Oh, he was beyond furious. He had half a mind o spit in the fuckers coffee and smugly watch as he drinks that shit, completely unaware as he desperately tries to shove his tongue down your throat after that, one date in.

But you’d know. You were always better at reading him, deciphering the different expressions on his face. He ought to bruise your fucking ass for this, spank you till you’re dripping wet for him, and then shove his cock in your mouth, facefuck you until your stupid hole is sore, and your cunt is clenching for no one but him.

What a pathetic loser. What the fuck did you see in this clown?

“Dude, you’re shaking. You okay?” Jimin nudges him with his elbow, raising a questioning eyebrow, black hair falling in his curious eyes.

Jungkook shakes his head, and removes his apron angrily, grabbing his pack of cigarettes and phone with him. He knows he’s being unreasonable; you’re single, and beautiful, God so fucking beautiful it physically hurts him, and he’s just the lucky guy that gets to fuck you whenever you’re up for it, nothing more, nothing less. A supporting character. Fuck, he knows. But his feelings are for him, they’re private, and right now they’re out of fucking control.

The urge to punch your date in the throat is driving him up a wall. He needs to get the fuck away from here—away from you and your innocent, ignorant ways. Deep breaths, deep fucking breaths Jeon, she hasn’t fucked him yet, and don’t you dare picture that, don’t be a fucking dick, walk away, walk away now.

“I’m going on break,” he announces, but he’s already on the other side of the counter, going for the door, hands busy with the lighter you gifted him on his birthday.

You’ve said your hello’s, you exchanged the necessary, polite words you do every time you see each other in public so there’s nothing else to say. He doesn’t look at you as he passes by, can’t bear to. There’s nothing else you could possibly want with him, not unless it’s after hours, behind closed bedroom doors. Or bathroom ones—or rooftops, staircases, couches, balconies, the beach that one time, his car, the steering wheel digging into your lower back, just last week—no.

Not fucking going there.

Sitting on the ledge right outside the shop, he puts the cig in his mouth, bringing that silver lighter close to it, lighting the edge of it. Taking an inhale of the stick between his fingers, he feels the harmful calm it produces overtake him for the first time that day. He needed nicotine like he needed your pussy pressed against his face, especially since you walked in with that lame looking motherfucker after you told him you’d call.

You never did.

Jungkook doesn’t want to be this way; he never used to curse this much, smoke this much, not before he met you. You’ve tested him in every possible way a man can be tested, have haunted his every waking thought, have wrapped him around your pretty fucking finger and are twirling him around in a never ending, whiplash inducing dance out of which there’s no escape. He’d do anything for you, be anything for you, god he already has, but you couldn’t care less. There was no love in you for him—not the kind he has for you.

Trust him, he wishes he could cut all ties with you, forget you. Stop loving you so goddamn much. But there’s no button for that, no way he can get out of his own body, discard his heart.

Goddamn him, his fucking dick is hard just with the proximity of you. Knowing you were near, having smelled your perfume earlier, the sweetness of your scent mixed with vanilla and something floral, something he’s only smelled on you, and that cursed mini skirt, fuck him, with those legs of yours… legs he’s had wrapped around his torso, over his shoulders, legs he’s kissed a thousand times over, has run his hands over, has worshipped.

No, you couldn’t do this to him. This is the last time you fuck him over, the last time he lets you—he’s going to put you in your fucking place, he decides. He’s going to have to show you who’s been there for you, who fucks you dumb, senseless—who’s cock you’ve been screaming for over and over again, who’s cum you’re craving down your throat almost every night.

Who you belong to. Because fuck anyone that dares so much as think they can have you. You’re his. He just has to get it through that thick head of yours, once and for all. Before he goes fucking insane.

Finishing his smoke, he ties his hair back and away from his face, getting off your Instagram page at once. Look at him, obsessing over your whereabouts, the tags on your pictures, who you’re with when he’s not with you. In you. Fucking ridiculous.

He goes to your last text conversation, a curt message from you two days ago at three in the morning. His eyes skim over it, reading it in your drunk voice, that delicious slur of your tongue, the way you must’ve slowly blinked at his texting you so late in the night. He wants you to think of him always, all goddamn day. As much as he does.

He wants you as obsessed as him.

[03:21am] just came home.

[03:22am] it’s late (y/n). go to sleep.

He decides to text you, then. Make sure you know he’s not going to let this go, that you’re taking it too far coming there, dressed like that, and with another man when his seed is still inside of you.

[19:07pm] is this my replacement? disappointed in you sweetheart.

If Jungkook’s good at anything—he knows how to get a good rise out of you. All that’s left is to sit patiently and wait. You’ll come to him, eventually. You always do.

A half an hour later, you’re standing in front of him, manicured nails digging into your crossed arms in barely contained anger.

He wipes his hands with a rug, giving Jimin the drinks he’d just made, completely ignoring your thunderous glaring. He feels those eyes pierce through his soul, though. How can he not—he’s never been very good at pretending, and God knows you demand all of his attention.

“Replacement? Really, Jungkook?”

Jimin looks between the two of you, sensing the tension. He’s always suspected there’s something going on, but that just confirmed it. Failing to hide his smirk, he balances the tray in one palm and fucks off to the last remaining table for the day.

“Am I wrong?” Jungkook stares at your mouth, the dark stain of your lips, the curve of your jaw, those ample cheeks of yours—you’ve such a cute fuckable face, it’s one of his worst weaknesses.

He can never stay mad at you for long.

“You are.”

“My apologies, angel.”

The sarcasm doesn’t escape you.

You sigh, leaning against the counter, extending both hands towards him. He blinks at them, his own morphing into fists at his sides. He wouldn’t cave in, not this time. You needed to be taught a lesson. You needed to stop refusing him, treating him like second choice.

“Can we talk about this later?” You say in that velvet voice of yours, the one that never fails to hypnotize him into submission. “He’s waiting for me outside.”

Jungkook let’s out a dry laugh, nodding his head bitterly at your words. There’s no magic behind them today, no spell. “We wouldn’t want him to wait,” he deadpans.

“Jungkook.”

“(Y/N).”

You huff, and remove yourself from the bar completely. His body instinctively moves closer, but his mind is set. A terrible fucking jealousy is eating him alive, setting him aflame.

“You’re acting childish.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not the one two-timing people,” he retorts as calmly as possible, wanting to hurt you a little. Nothing like how you’ve hurt him. “Does he know how filthy you like getting fucked? How there’s another man that knows his way around your body like the palm of his fucking hand?”

You step back, face betraying guilt. “Stop it.”

He shrugs, and winks at you, proud of himself. “It’s the truth, angel. Don’t bring him into this if you don’t want him getting hurt.”

“You’re such an asshole, Jeon Jungkook,” you snapped, eyes glittering with tears. Jungkook looked away at once, his jaw clenching in annoyance.

Are you really taking that fuckers side? How long have you known him? Maybe a fucking week, if he had to guess. Jungkook has had you for years.

“Don’t ruin this for me,” you demanded, stomping your foot like a little kid.

Jimin had returned to his post next to his friend, and was witnessing your amusing temper tantrum. He also noticed the younger man’s struggle, the effort it took to stay put in that place of his.

“Ruin?” He mused over the word out loud, then laughed wholeheartedly, with his entire chest. It was an empty sound, a patronizing thing. “If you want to go with him, be my fucking guest baby girl. But if you do,” he warns, forearm resting on the wood in front of him. “you better forget about me. I’m not fucking sharing you.”

You stood hurt, a sour expression curving those perfect lips downwards, weighing your options. This was the moment Jungkook would finally see if you truly thought anything of him, if he mattered enough for you. Or at least if he was more important than a random guy you picked off a club. And God he hoped, for your sake, you picked him. Otherwise he would not be responsible for the Hell he’d give you afterwards.

Who he’d become if you dropped him. He’s scared of himself.

“What’s it going to be?” He presses, pinning you in place with those dark orbs. “Don’t make me become someone I don’t want to be, honey. You and I both know you’ll regret it.”

“Fuck you.”

Jungkook smiles at you, all charm and danger. “It’d be my pleasure.”

When you sulkily sit on the bar stool, and start typing on your phone, your decision sets in him. You chose him. His chest swells, his cock straining against his pants. He’d take you right then and there if he could; lift you on top of the counter, and fuck into you until all you know is his name, until all other men pale in comparison to him. What he does instead—he pulls your face in for a bruising kiss, his big hand cupping your jaw tightly, his tongue forcing your lips open.

“Get a room, Jesus,” he hears Jimin mutter, but he could give less of a fuck. He’s waited way too long for this. Let them watch, I know how to put on a fucking show.

You melt under his touch, letting him consume you. He growls low, and bites down on your bottom lip. You moan, and everything blurs—you’re alone. He craves nothing but you, needs to have you before insanity renders him incapable of fucking you properly.

“I’m getting off early,” he hesitantly pulls back and slaps Jimin’s chest, apron coming off in a blink of an eye.

“Sure, yeah, cause you can do that,” his friend sarcastically replies, but lets him go anyway.

“Don’t be too mad at him,” you add, smiling sweetly. Jimin smiles back, can’t help it. Jungkook glares, messenger bag over his shoulder, and jumps over the wooden top in one swift move.

“Stop fucking staring, Park,” he wraps an arm around your waist protectively, and takes you away. “I’m off!”

You barely made it to the car, before Jungkook turned you around, locking you between the passenger door and his muscled chest. His knee pushed between your legs, your hands on his sides squeezing the skin there. His head dipped to your ear, voice soothing you open, receptive. When his fingers disappeared beneath your skirt, a gasp tore through your throat, goosebumps rising on your skin.

You wanted him too, your pussy told him so. Your panties were all creamed up, thighs begging to be rubbed together to provide any sort of friction. He gave it to you, the pad of his thumb rubbing over your clit. You were throbbing—fuck how much he loved this.

“Tell me baby girl, were you going to keep him around for me to watch while you get fucked? You know you only have to ask,” he whispered, teasing you with those long fucking fingers of his.

In plain sight, for everyone to see. Christ.

“Like Hell you would,” you retort, breathless. “You’re a selfish man, Jungkook.”

He smirks at that, clicks his tongue against his teeth, and chuckles darkly. “You’re right on that,” he pulls you on him and rubs his erection against your clothed cunt. “Can’t let no one touch what is mine.”

“I’m not yours.” A weak remark, as your hips moved with his. He ignored it entirely.

He saw your naked neck, the way you swallowed, and attacked the sensitive skin there, grazing it with his teeth, sucking harshly on it. You hissed at the sensation, yet wanted more. What a contradiction of a woman, Jungkook thought, pulling me in but pushing me away. Unfortunately, for what he was planning on doing to you, he couldn’t be seen.

“Oh, but you are,” he whispers against your cheek, cuffing both of your wrists in one hand behind your back, slowly opening the car door for you to get in. “Oh angel, for how fucking adorable you are, you sure don’t use that pretty little brain of yours much.”

He lowered his head to be on eye level with you. He couldn’t possibly make it any clearer, not unless he bought a ring and put some babies in you.

“I own you.”

Your eyes told him so. The musk on his fingers guaranteed it. He smacked the door shut, licking your juices clean off. You tasted like fucking paradise.

He’d fucking destroy you.

Jungkook loved your neck, how easily it could turn purple, how perfect his hand fit around it, almost like it was made for him. He wouldn’t doubt it for a fucking second—the rest of you molded all over him, every nook and cranny.

Lifting you up the kitchen table, he felt like taking you raw, just like that; pushing your skirt up and burying himself in your folds. His thumb hooked between your lips, pressed down to open your mouth, your gaze following his movements closely. Pudding in his hands, to do whatever he pleased. Every time.

“Look at my little slut,” he admired, pushing his thumb in his second favorite hole of yours. “Suck, baby, show me what that mouth does best.” You did, your tongue swiping all around, over and under, wetting and sucking dry, repeating again and again, until Jungkook was satisfied.

He never was. If he could, he’d fucking snort you up, have you run through his bloodstream for the rest of time. His perfect fucking girl, the one that refuses to give into him, the one that drives him mad.

“Are you thinking about him?” He asks you, the same jealousy nibbling at him. It never left—it never leaves. “How his fingers taste, how they’d curl inside that cunt of yours? It’s fucking morphine, did you know, sweetheart? Why do you think you got me on my knees for you?”

He removes his digit, and decides playtime is over. He’s been lenient enough. You notice exactly when the change takes place, when his eyes darken, and your breathing quickens, fear replacing exhilaration. This was the cruel man that could make you come just with his filthy words. As much as you fucking loved it, he was ruthless—absolutely brutal.

“No,” you mumble, shaking your head. “No, Kook, no, I never—”

Not your coffee boy, but the one that uses a belt to teach you lessons. The one that always knows just how far you’re willing to go.

“Shut the fuck up. You knew what you were doing.”

Jungkook spits in your open mouth, squeezing your throat submissive. You struggle to breathe, but you take it, tightening your thighs around his hips in shameful arousal. He watches you swallow, tongue coming out to show him, just as he likes. He rewards you with a suffocating kiss, before he does it again.

“I bet you wondered how his dick would feel against those velvet fucking walls of yours,” he continued his verbal torture, his other hand pushing your panties to the side, feeling your slick, lapping it with his index, before shoving three fingers inside you at once. You hissed, nails digging holes on his shoulders.

“Yeah?” He fucks you with his entire hand, palm rubbing against your clit. You can’t think of nothing else but getting filled to the brim. “Your mouth works doesn’t it, honey?”

“No one’s fucked me but you in two years,” you confess in a haze, looking at him through your eyelids. Silver shone on his lip and eyebrow under the hidden lighting of his apartment. A shadow draped in gold.

You saw the movement of his jaw, the way his mouth became a thin line. He obviously enjoyed hearing that. But was it enough? Fuck no.

“But they’ve touched you,” he bitterly concludes. “They’ve tasted my pussy, my lips… haven’t they?” He sounded so miserable, so resentful. Your heart ached for him.

You loved this man, but he would never believe you, and you can’t blame him. You loved him in a different way, the only way you knew how. And he did the same. You met and crashed like waves. Your silence was answer enough.

The next moment struck like lightning. All you felt was pain, as he pushed you down on your elbows and ripped your panties off you in one movement. You weren’t even able to scream, the action barely registering in your brain.

“Unbutton my shirt,” he instructed you, no part of him touching you whatsoever. A shudder rippled through you, and down to your unclothed pussy. You scrambled to do as told, afraid of the consequences, hands shaking.

Jungkook groaned impatiently. “Stupid fucking whore, can’t even do something as simple as this,” he snarled at your face, every ounce of affection gone. “D’you need help, sweetheart? Perhaps a manual? None of this is helping your case, you know.”

“I’m—I’m sorry, please,” you whimper, hurrying to undo the stubborn buttons.

He cocked an eyebrow, gaze vicious. Hateful. Something kicked inside of you, a horrifying feeling—you were losing him. He was going to leave you after this. All he’s ever wanted, all you very much were aware of that he craved most—to have you all to himself, to call you his. You never gave it to him, always held back, and for what you’ve no idea. But this, having your body, pleasuring the both of you, it was the one thing if not the only part he had, the one thing he could do, he was allowed.

“Please,” he repeated, the word seemingly unfamiliar to him. “Please, what? Are you sorry at all, baby girl? Do you want me to go easy on you?”

You shake your head again, pushing the shirt off him, bulky muscle now exposed, the chiseled chest you so loved running your tongue over, and the V disappearing beneath his boxers, inviting, nearly a threat.

“Fuck me,” you pleaded, reaching a hand out to touch him, his most private part. “Please. I know I’ve hurt you, I’m sorry, please set me straight, fuck it out of me, I want only you, I promise, only you.”

“Lies,” he shouts, and lunges at you, pinning you down by your waist, skirt pulled roughly from your body. You’re met with the ceiling, but won’t dare move, won’t make a sound unless he tells you to. It’s a thin fucking line you’re walking on, one you haven’t experienced a whole lot.

You hear a shuffling of sorts, before a thud and then you feel it—his hot breath on your cold folds. Those veiny hands on your hips again, before he devours you. The vibration of his growling sends you into a frenzy, and you clench around nothing. Your clit between his sinful lips he sucks painfully at first, wanting to hurt you, but gently afterwards, after your cries settle and you’ve accepted your fate.

You’re at his mercy, and you better behave.

“Used fucking pussy,” he spits on it, fingers working together with his mouth to get you ready for his bulging cock. “What am I supposed to do with a second hand slut like you, huh? Begging to be filled with dick, dripping over my kitchen table…” he tsk’s, tongue flat against your wetness. “You don’t fucking need me, right, I’m just another naive guy wrapped around your goddamn finger, you could have me replaced at any time.”

“That’s not true!” you cry out immediately, hand getting lost in his thick brown locks. “Fuck!” A slap cuts the air—on your pussy. And he does it again, smacks the sensitive area until it’s red and throbbing and licking all over his chin.

“Quiet,” he snaps. “I can make it hurt like never before, honey, don’t fucking test me.”

You’re certain you’re losing your mind by that point, the ache between your legs overwhelming everything else, the thought of needing his cock like you need oxygen the only reasonable solution to making the pain go away. You’re coming before you know it, and Jungkook is a starving man, he licks it all up, licks you dry, marveling at the way your body responds to him, always has.

If only your heart would do the same. If only there was something he could do to make it beat only for him, as his does for you.

“No one will make you come like I do, sweetheart, God my fucking witness. No one knows their way around this pussy like I do, no one will fucking take the time.”

You go to sit up, pull him into you, needing comfort, needing your friend back, the one that made you feel good because you asked, not the half mad one, the obsession, the misshapen thing—for once you need his warm love, the one he’s been talking about, the one hiding behind the heartbreak. You don’t care how awful that is, how selfish you sound.

His palm presses down on your stomach as he towers over you, taking all light with him, flushed cock standing proudly between you, inches away from where you need it most. If he would just move closer, if perhaps you could wiggle further down the table…

“Do not fucking move, angel,” he warns, kissing your sobs silent. With a flick of his wrist, your breasts are in full view, his fingers pinching the erect nipples, calloused palms slapping the plump skin, abusing it.

Every touch vibrates directly in your cunt. You’ve become a blubbering mess, needing nothing but that long stick between his legs. A whore, as he said, a whore with no other purpose than taking dick, his dick, only his, because he’s the only one you want, the only one you need, the only one touching you like this, pushing your limits, driving you over the edge—

“Look at you, my beautiful mess,” he kisses your lips again and again, yet refuses to touch your core. Endless torture, when will it end, when will it end! “Do you understand now? This is what it feels having you under me every night, yet not having you at all,” he shushes your gut wrenching cries, removes your hands from your face, forces you to look at him. “My baby, my love…” he coo’s tenderly, caressing all the way down your body, before his arms hook under your thighs.

He positions you just at the edge of the round table, and quickly leans to lap at your cunt one last time. Christ, fucking Heaven in a woman; it’s alright sweetheart, it’s over, shhh, no more crying, I got you where I want you, I’ll take care of you now, no more crying, fuck if you could see yourself right now, so goddamn hot, a fucking vision just for me, just for your man, you perfect angel, you perfect fucking thing, all for me, all this for me—

You couldn’t describe the tidal wave of relief that washed over you as soon as he buried himself inside you. Both hands on your waist, he slammed you down onto his rock hard cock, his pace fast, relentless, absolutely everything you could’ve ever asked for.

“Harder, fuck, fucking kill me! Don’t stop, please, please, please, please…” incoherent thoughts jumbled together in a string of words, yet Jungkook understood perfectly.

Of course he did.

“Fucking slut…only way you deserve to be fucked…I’m gonna flip this cunt inside out, sweetheart, so no one will be able to screw you. You’re taking my cock so well, baby girl, fuck I want to tear you apart, I want to write my name in this pussy, mark it,” he growled in your ear, manhandling you like a goddamn lifeless doll, pistoling into you with incredible force, so much so you’d think he’d bruise you from the inside, but you couldn’t stop begging him to do so, all of it feeling oh so fucking good.

You want me to mark you, don’t you, you want me drilling into you all fucking day, I know you do, you insatiable goddamn pain in the ass, let me hear you, scream for me, baby, let me know who’s fucking you—say my name, he tightens his grip on your throat, his eyes insane with lust.

“Say my fucking name.”

“Jungkook,” you moan into his hair, nails scratching down his back.

“That’s right, baby. Again.”

“Jungkook!”

I fucking love you, sweetheart, I don’t give a fuck if you never love me back, just give me this pussy, let me drown in it, let me get lost and hide forever in your folds, yeah baby? Come for me now, cream on my dick sweet thing, c’mon, one two three—you scream at the top of your lungs, holding onto him for fear life as your body convulses violently, his own release spurting in thick white strips on your stomach as he barely manages to pull out, and everything goes black. He keeps you on him until you calm down, his pace slow and steady, fucking you both back down to reality.

Your breathing is incredibly labored, hair sticking on your forehead. You look so fucking beautiful to him, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. His pretty girl. He kisses your forehead overtaken by the strange feeling in his chest.

“God—I love you, you know?” You mumble against his chin, suddenly very shy.

Jungkook stills, his entire world pausing its spinning. “What did you just say?”

You try to cover your face, but to no avail. He’s much stronger than you, much more determined to look into those eyes that could never lie to him. You could make him the happiest man on earth or send him down to the darkest pits of Hell with just three words.

“I love you,” you repeat hesitantly, looking up at him. His expression crumbles. “I know it doesn’t mean anything, that I’m late and you probably want nothing more to do with me after this, but—”

His palm slams your mouth shut. Your eyes widen in surprise.

Jungkook then, still inside you, looks at you with the fondest look on his face, his body weight pressing down on you in the most delicious way.

“You’ve no idea what the fuck you’re saying right now, sweetheart, so I’ll forgive you,” he blinks, bewildered, in disbelief. “I never said I’m leaving you. It’s never crossed my mind.”

You furrow your eyebrows, but your words are muffled. He seems to comprehend perfectly well, anyway.

“You could kill me if you wanted, and I’d willingly die by your hand, (Y/N). Have you any idea what it means to love you?”

When he kisses you again, you think you can begin to understand.

#jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #bts smut #jungkook fanfics #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fanfics #jungkook fics #bts fics #jungkook imagine #.mine

[bad-decisionsot7]

Soft sex with the boys.

SEOKJIN

lots of him holding your hand.

kisses up and down your entire body,completely.

Moans

lots of talking. "you look so beautiful" "you're doing so well today princess" etc.

dressing you afterwards.

NAMJOON

temple kisses.

whispers to tell you he loves you every two minutes.

"how is it you still look so beautiful when you're underneath me?"

slips into kinky but reminds himself he wants to make love not just sex.

actual whimpers.

HOSEOK

soft as hell.

praise.

"stop grinding your hips down, let me do the work."

puts on his own songs to have sex to. (oops)

lots of cuddles afterwards.

JIMIN

eye contact.

he'd kiss every inch of your body, while keeping eye contact with you.

he wanted the both of you to enjoy it, slow and sensual so that's exactly what he did.

"lay back, let me take care of you for once."

YOONGI

questionable behavior.

neck kisses. lots of them.

though he felt kinky was always needed, he quickly changed his mind once he seen how adorable you could be while having normal, vanilla sex.

most of his time is spent eating you out.

TAEHYUNG

forehead kisses.

will need constant reassurance that you're actually enjoying this.

"is this seriously the only kind of sex some people have?"

"okay well maybe we can do only every- saturday! we'll call it... soft saturday."

soft saturday.

JUNGKOOK

loves it.

kisses every part of your face.

whispers how much he loves you and how he thinks you're amazing literally every two seconds.

stares into your eyes the entire time.

"baby, you're amazing and so beautiful."

#bts imagines #bts smut #bts #bts smut reactions #hoseok smut #jimin smut #jungkook smut #namjoon smut #taehyung smut #seokjin smut #yoongi smut #bts scenarios #bts fluff

[joonsmagicshop]

Stress Relief Series - PJM

Summary: A week ago Taehyung asked a favour. For you to have sex with his bandmates to relieve some tension and stress. First one up is none other than Park Jimin

Paring: Jimin/Reader

Word Count: 4K

Tags: Smut, handjobs, blowjobs, sex, dirty talk, Reader takes control, This is just soft smut

Authors Note: This is part two of the Stress Relief Series (Part 1 here) If you missed it, a new chapter with a new BTS member will be posted at the end of each month. More info at the end of part 1. Thank you so much for reading!

This was a punishment from the universe. You were sure of it

You were being punished for all the times you weren't patient.

When the line for coffee was too long you would sigh and roll your eyes.

When you got stuck behind an old person who took forever to count their change for groceries and you shifted foot to foot and cursed yourself for always picking the slow line.

When you were a kid and you just couldn't help yourself, you snuck into your parent's closet to take a peek at your Christmas gifts early because you just couldn't wait

They say patience is a virtue

You feel like that's a load of garbage.

It had been almost a week since Taehyung had asked you for a favor

Well not a favor for him but for his bandmates, his words still ringing loud in your ears and making you flush

if you would be willing…to share the wealth. Help my bandmates with their tension. Let them fuck you.”

You agreed in haste because how were you supposed to say no to that?

However it had been radio silence since, and you were more than frustrated...and impatient.

The only sign you got that the whole thing was a go was the fact the next day Taehyung sent you a text with a thumbs-up emoji and a winky face.

You let your imagination run wild after that text and almost spilled coffee down your shirt when you forgot the cup was even in your hand.

However, the excitement started to wear off when you realized the days started to fly by and no one was texting you.

You almost texted Tae to ask him what was up, but worried you would come off too desperate.

So you did what you had to do, you busied yourself with work and friends and chores to keep your mind off the whole thing. You kept your hands off your phone as much as possible and tried not to dive for it every time it vibrated.

The week finally came to an end and you felt a sigh of relief as you turned off your computer for the weekend and grabbed your coat.

You waved goodbye to some of your coworkers as you left the building and smiled at the soft rain that was coming down.

The drive back home was short but silent. You decided to listen to the falling rain instead of the radio as you took in the slightly foggy city around you.

As you pulled into your parking spot at your apartment you gathered your things and braced for the rain. It was a mild soft rain that covered everything but made the world look cozy and beautiful. This was exactly what you needed after a long week at work and you were fully prepared to take advantage of the cozy weather.

You unlocked your door and shucked off your coat placing it on the hook and dropping your purse on your small kitchen table.

You let your hair out of its pins and sighed as you rubbed your scalp.

You patted over to the bathroom to take a shower. The kind of shower where you use the most expensive products and really take your time and enjoy it. You shaved everything and even used a very expensive moisturizer you only use on special occasions as you slipped on gray sweatpants and an oversized white tee shirt.

You clipped your wet hair up and out of your face as you made your way back to the kitchen, fishing your phone from your discarded purse to order some food.

However, you stopped dead in your tracks, thumb hovering over the unlock button as your other hand came up to cover your mouth as you let out a tiny scream

An unknown number had texted you while you were in the shower, asking for you specifically by name.

Your heart rate sped up as you confirmed it was you and you paced the kitchen waiting for an answer, dinner be damned you weren't hungry anymore.

The unknown number wanted to prove it was actually you.

Which was fair

You sent back your full address including the apartment number and the special knock Tae did whenever he came over.

Two loud knocks followed by three soft ones.

Something you both had made up after you had sex for the third time.

You waited with bated breath. Your body nearly shaking with nerves as the text bubbles kept coming up and disappearing.

Maybe the person changed their mind

Maybe it was a scam

A trap

Maybe

Maybe

You put your phone down and began to frantically clean.

Tae had assured you time and time again he didn't care what your apartment looked like he just cared about what he was there for but this was Jimin, this was someone new and you wanted to make a good first impression.

You were like a hurricane going from room to room and desperately trying to make it look presentable.

By the time you made it to your bedroom, you shucked off your gray sweats and put on tight black leggings instead. You had decided to keep the white tee shirt and you tried your best to style your still damp hair into something presentable.

You didn't have time though

The two loud knocks followed by three soft ones had your heart hammering in your chest and your body froze.

You clipped your hair back up and raced to the door. Trying to go fast but keep your footsteps light so Jimin doesn't hear you.

You took a deep breath before throwing open the door.

And he slipped inside.

Jimin was taller than you, his light brown hair hidden under a black beanie but his fringe was sticking out. He wore black jeans and a large black sweater and was smiling down at you shyly.

“Hi.” You spoke, grateful your voice didn't give away how nervous you were.

You had seen pictures of Jimin, you knew who he was but you had to admit he was even more beautiful in person.

“Hi.” He repeated with another shy smile as you could already see the blush tinging his cheeks.

“Do you want to....come sit down and we can....talk?” You asked as he nodded and removed the beanie from his head, shaking out his hair and following you through your apartment.

You both settled on the couch. You sat cross-legged while Jimin sat with his feet planted firm on the ground. You made sure you sat close enough to press your knee into his thigh.

“I-uh. I'm not going to lie. I'm super nervous right now.” Jimin said softly. His eyes not meeting yours, instead choosing to focus on the rug that was under your coffee table.

“It's okay. We don't have to do anything you don't want to.” You offer with a small smile as he finally breaks his staring contest with the rug to look at you.

“I just...I don't do this. Hook up with people I don't know. Like ever?” He said as you both lapse into silence, the only noise is the hum of the fridge and the rain which is starting to pick up force outside.

“That's okay. No judgment here. I want you to feel good and have a good time.” You said, slowly bringing your hand up to rest on his knee.

With Tae everything was instant. There was never an awkward figure-it-out phase it was like your bodies were meant to be together. With Jimin being so nervous you felt out of your depth and did the only thing you could think of to get things moving.

You took control.

You slowly uncrossed your legs and stood up. Jimin looked up at you through thick lashes as you very slowly climbed on the couch, straddling his thighs. Going slow and steady as if not to spook him.

His hands were drawn to you like a magnet and they settled on your hips as you hummed appreciatively at him.

“This okay?” You asked as you kept your distance, not trying to sit directly on his lap instead placing yourself more on his knees.

He bit his lip and nodded and you smiled down at him.

“Jimin, baby. Tell me what you want.” You purr putting your hands on his shoulders and giving him time to decide.

“I-I want whatever you and Tae do.” He mutters out looking up at you.

You bite back a smile.

“Jimin what Tae and I have...and do.... is completely different from this. He's...well. Tae. This isn't about him and me this is about you and me. I don't think you want what Tae and I do because Tae is very dominant and...takes charge. Not to say you aren't like that but I think you just want to be taken care of don't you.” You coo at him as you run a hand through his soft hair.

Jimin's eyes flutter closed as your skilled hands run through his hair scratching his scalp as you go

You let him enjoy the massage before you continued to speak.

“If I'm wrong tell me. But from what I can tell you just want to be taken care of. Even this massage has you giving up control. Tell me, baby. Is that what you want? Me to do all the work and you sit back and enjoy?” You ask as his eyes flutter open.

His teeth catch his lower lip as he nods up at you.

The picture of innocence

And so damn cute.

“Words please Jimin.” You demand.

“Yes. Please. I-Is that okay with you? I know you're probably expecting-”

You shush him before he can continue.

“Jimin honestly I'm not expecting anything. I know what I signed up for when Taehyung asked me if I would be willing to fuck his bandmates. Whatever you need that's what I'm here for.” You say as your hands now play with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Tae said you were good I just- fuck- he better know how lucky he is,” Jimin whispers as you full-out grin.

“Hmm, you might need to remind him.”

Jimin giggles at that.

“So, how do you want this? Soft and sweet, or taken care of a little more roughly?” You ask as you finally take your chance and inch your body forward so you are resting more on his cock, which you are happy to find is already half-hard.

“Soft and sweet please.” Jimin wines out.

“Of course baby. Can I kiss you?” You ask with a tilt of your head and a bat of your lashes.

He nods very enthusiastically and you keep your hands playing with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck as you lean forward and capture his lips in a soft and slow kiss.

His hands come to circle your waist as your lips touch. His lips are soft and warm against yours and you can taste the faint hint of the chapstick he used before he came.

The kiss is slow and sweet. Jimin keeps his hands respectfully on your waist as you push yourself into him and deepen the kiss some more.

You want him to touch you, need him to touch you, so you pull away and put your hands on his shoulders. Jimin looked up and you, dazed and you smiled down at him.

“Was it not good?” He asks voice small and you shake your head.

“Jimin it was real good. You're a good kisser. But you know you can touch me right?”

He blushes deeply and before you let him get in his head too much you lean forward and kiss him again. This time with more heat as you move your lips against his feverishly and once again run your hands through his hair.

Jimin takes note and slides his hand up the back of your shirt which has goosebumps popping up on your skin as his fingers lightly skim your spine.

He is just as good with his hands as he is with his mouth as you open your mouth slightly and his tongue makes its way inside.

Your tongues rub against each other and you whine into his mouth which only spurs him on as he pushes harder into you and you can feel his cock start to fully harden and strain against his too-tight jeans.

Your hands are roaming his body as you grind into him. The noises and whines he is making against your mouth are some of the sweetest sounds you have heard and you grind down harder to make more noises come from his plush lips.

His hands are tight on your back keeping your body pushed against his as all the awkwardness from before dissolves into loud and wet kisses as you both explore each other.

You waste no time as you pull away and Jimin whines. You grab the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head, taking your time to admire his lean dancer's body.

You lean your head down and begin to kiss and suck on his skin. Starting with his neck and moving down to his collarbones.

Jimin's cock is hard and hot pressing against you and you grind down on it which has a high whine leaving his mouth.

You place sloppy kisses against his pale skin and as you move your body back to be able to reach more of him, Jimin protests above you.

“Feels so good when you press into me.” He mutters which has you smiling against his warm skin and you slide off the couch and get on your knees.

You look up at him eyebrows raised and lucky for you Jimin gets the hint.

He stands up and slowly shimmy his jeans down to reveal tight black boxers. You can see his cock hard and straining against the material and it makes your mouth water at how good his bulge looks.

He pauses his movement and you sense some shyness as you slowly bring your hands down to take off your shirt and bra, his jaw-dropping as he eyes you hungrily.

“Didn't want you to be the only one naked.” You tease as you bring your hand up his muscular thighs and tease at the waistband of his boxers, thumbs flicking over his hipbones.

Jimin gives you a nod, a silent go-ahead, as you hook your fingers in and drag them down slowly.

His cock jumps against his stomach and you try not to stare. He is hard and slightly curved but just like the rest of him, beautiful.

The tip is red, and leaking beads of precum which are sliding down the shaft.

Before you even have a chance to think your body reacts and you lean forward to lick at the beads which has a broken moan falling from his lips and his hands resting on your shoulders.

You sigh as the taste hits your tongue and you lick him up and down, coating his hot skin in your saliva.

His body shudders above you and you take one hand to pull at the clip that was keeping your hair up, letting it fall and fan over your face.

You pull back and wrap a hand around his cock and look up at him.

“Thought you'd like something to hold on to while I suck you off.” You purr with a wink as Jimin quickly holds your hair back as you swallow him down.

His cock fits perfectly in your mouth as you lick and suck at the tip and use your hand to jerk him off. The glide was easy with all the saliva you used earlier and you flicked your tongue to tease the crown of his cock as you could hear his broken moans and sobs above you.

You pulled off and took a breath before diving right in, this time taking his cock as far as you could and opening your throat wide.

“I-fuck-Shit-Fuck-I-god feel so good.” Jimin babbled above you as you worked him.

You kept yourself deep throating him as long as possible swallowing around his cock as he cried and whined out, his hands tightening in your hair which had your own core throbbing.

This was about him though, so you tried your best to rub your legs together to ease some of the ache as you pulled back and came up for air. Your eyes were starting to tear and you were sure you had drool all over your mouth as you looked up at Jimin.

Who looked absolutely a wreck.

You winked at him and dove back in, this time focusing more on the head of his cock which was steadily leaking precum as you worked him with one hand and fondled his balls with the other.

You found out quickly that Jimin liked it when you played with his balls as his noises got louder and his breathing got more erratic as you played with them.

“I-fuck Y/N I'm gonna cum. You gotta-gotta stop.” Jimin panted above you as you pulled off his cock and gave him one more lick from base to tip, he groaned above you, eyes fluttering closed trying to stave off cumming on your face.

“Fuck you are too good at that.” He says shakily as you rise to your feet and drag your leggings and panties down.

“Thank you.” You beam at him which causes him to shake his head and laugh.

“Your cock sucking skills... Your body... And all of you?! Taehyung is an asshole for keeping you all to himself. It's just not fair.” Jimin complained as you grinned and slowly climbed on top of him again. This time you sit right on his cock letting your juices coat him.

“I know I said I'd take care of you and I mean it. Want me to ride you?” You ask as you open the small table that is next to the couch and retrieve a condom.

Jimin doesn't say anything as you stare at him.

“Or we could do another position...?” You ask timid as he shakes his head with as smile on his face.

“I think I'm imagining this. I don't think your real. How are you so real? And so wonderful?” He asks in awe as you smile bashfully and you tear open the condom package and roll the condom down his still-hard length.

“As I said before. I'm here for whatever you need.” You respond as you hover over his aching length.

“Wait! Shouldn't I prep you?” He asks with concern in his voice.

You stare into his kind eyes with a naughty grin on your face.

“Isn't it better to have your cock stretch me out?” You reply as you sink down on him and let his cock fill you up.

He felt good inside you. Your walls accommodate him still with that slight stretch which has you wincing.

You lean into Jimin's chest as you wait for the discomfort to subside. His hands are tracing small circles on your back as he whispers how good you are in your ear.

You place soft kisses on his shoulder as you slowly move your hips back and forth trying to ease the burn and the need which is bubbling up inside you quickly.

Once everything felt okay you began to slowly rock yourself against him. Holding his shoulders steady so you could do all the work and he could just enjoy it.

Soft moans leave his lips as you ride him, picking up the pace with each thrust as you kiss him once again.

This time the kiss is more hungry and needy as he bites at your lips and you whine against his mouth. His hands are gone from your back and are tangled into your hair as you moan against him and pick up the pace.

You are grinding against his lap at a feverish pace and you feel yourself start to come undone. Your body is a live wire and all the pressure is building up as you lean forward and ride him, letting his cock hit that spot inside of you that has you moaning and chanting his name.

“Jimin-Please-f-fuck-close.” You grit out as his hands come to your hips and he helps you bounce up and down on his cock.

You are a flurry of kisses and moans as you both chase your high. You can feel Jimin's cock twitch inside of you and you know he is close.

You bite at his lip and he shudders under you.

“Jimin cum-please-cum inside-fuck” You beg, erratic as he finally lets go and throws his head back as he cums inside you.

His cock is pulsing and filling up the condom and in the orgasm frenzy his fingers reach down to thumb at your clit and you are done for.

Your walls clamp around his cock as you bury your face in his shoulder and cum around him. Tingles spread from your core all the way to your fingers and toes as you ride out your high, pressing soft kisses to his sweaty skin as you both come down.

You lay against him for what feels like ages. The rain is now smacking hard against the window as you both let your breathing even out.

His cock is softening inside you but you are in no rush to have him pull out as you snuggle into his warm chest, his arms wrap around you and he kisses the top of your hair and praises you.

You finally push yourself up and let his soft cock slide out of you. Your body feels like jelly as you plop down on the couch beside him and gather your tee shirt.

“That was amazing. Holy shit.” Jimin whispers as you throw your tee shirt over your head and grin at him

“Happy to help.” You tease as he runs a hand through his sweaty hair and gathers his things from the floor.

You lay on the couch and watch as he gets himself dressed and hastily fixes his hair looking just as beautiful as ever, if not a little calmer, or maybe that's just the post-orgasmic bliss.

“Where's your bathroom? I'm going to run you a bath.” Jimin asks turning to you as you look up at him still dazed from your orgasm.

“Jimin it's all good. You really don't have to.” You say suddenly feeling shy at his care.

“What do you mean? Taehyung told us...all of us after we're done we have to take care of you. Run you a bath and order you food. He said it was part of the deal?” Jimin answers looking confused.

You smile and shake your head.

That Kim Taehyung. Such a gentleman.

“He didn't tell me that but sounds good. On one condition. You eat with me?”

Jimin nods with a cheeky grin and reaches a hand out to you helping you off the couch and supporting you all the way to the bathroom as you both decide on what to eat.

#Park Jimin #Jimin #Jimin fic #Jiminxreader #Jimin/reader #bts fic #bts #bts smut #jimin smut

[403tarot]

PAC . . . — your life as a k-idol [gender neutral]

your life as an idol in general: how the public would perceive you, what kind of stans you would have, your level of fame and also the idols your vibe would match the most. take a deep breath and choose the picture that calls you the most <3

PICK A PILE !

** i chose the idols that would best match your vibe solely based on the energy of the cards. the idols with energy close to yours came to my mind as i was taking the reading, that's all.

pile one

okay, first, i see that perhaps fame and having the spotlight on you could be a challenge that might leave you a bit unsettled and even insecure. you may care a lot about what others think of you, fearing mistakes and disappointing those who follow you. fortunately, you would transform these concerns into a more serious and professional demeanor, giving you the aura of a mysterious and even sexy member.

for the general public, you would be synonymous with DUALITY! this is because, despite your initially closed-off vibe and demeanor in less relaxed settings (such as performances or interviews), in more comfortable moments, you would be seen as a ball of sunshine. people would be strongly intrigued by your ability to have such a different personality from your looks. tiktok edits with reverberated music and low saturation filter whenever you're serious would be a hit.

you would have a strong connection with your fans, being the best friend of parasocial relationships. this means dozens (or even hundreds) of almost daily messages about more everyday matters, creating a sense of intimacy. your fans would be even more dedicated due to this, the type that comes together and always defends you elegantly in any situation.

speaking of fame level, i see it would be a good balance between fame in korea and international fame. it wouldn't be overwhelming fame, but your group would have good recognition and some important trophies for your fans to brag about on twitter.

the idols that would best match your vibe as an idol are wonbin (RIIZE), momo (TWICE), karina (aespa), and rei (IVE).

pile two

wow, here we have the personality of someone who would be great at dealing with having a public image. i feel that behind the scenes, you'd be someone more reserved and perhaps even a bit introverted. however, as soon as the camera turns on, you'd show that you were born for the world of entertainment. you would be the shining light of your group, someone everyone likes, whether they are your fellow members or even the most bitter person on pannchoa.

in the eyes of the public, you would be an exemplary idol. beautiful, with a warm and kind personality, you would stand out on and off the stage for having a magnetic and captivating aura. i see that you would be the type of idol who quietly brings important visibility to issues related to diversity and self-acceptance. you would be lowkey envied, but that would have to be practically a state secret— your fans would be CHAOTIC, everywhere, ready to protect you and, in turn, promote your work.

your fans would potentially be younger people with extroverted personalities. they would take great pride in having you as their idol and might see you as an example to follow. moreover, you would seek to have a friendly relationship with them as much as possible, being approachable but also maintaining boundaries to keep everything healthy for both parties.

speaking of fame, i see that you would be the most famous in your group, with many spotlights on you, carrying almost all the wins of your colleagues on your own shoulders. your fame would be more focused on the international audience.

The idols that would best match your vibe as an idol are wooyoung (ATEEZ), jimin (BTS), joy (Red Velvet), and soobin (TXT).

pile three

starting with how your life would be as an idol, i see that you would find this job challenging but discover your calling in it. being in the world of entertainment and under the spotlight would evoke a strong sense of belonging in you, making you feel like you have a life purpose. you would love being on stage, performing, and feeling loved by those who take some time to cheer for you. you would exude an aura of firmness and confidence, generally being perceived as a mature, intelligent, and kind person. you would be very transparent about your goals, desires, and thoughts, which could bring controversies to the table due to your real personality in a k-pop industry that often leans towards artificiality.

the public would have divided opinions about you. while some would dislike you without any reason, others would relate to you and naturally develop a sense of empathy. you would be seen as someone with talent but struggles to captivate a portion of the audience. interestingly, you would gain the most unlikely type of fans: the "i hate everyone but you" fans.

as one of the more bitter types of fans, you would have avid defenders. they might not be many, but they would cause significant trouble tormenting anyone who dared to speak ill of you on their timeline. you would be "the protected one," forming a bond with them due to your authenticity and courage to be nothing but yourself. in terms of communication, i see that you could be somewhat inconsistent, disappearing for a few days and then doing a live, sending hundreds of messages, and posting selfies on three different social media platforms, all on the same day as an apology.

now speaking of fame, i see that your group wouldn't be extremely famous, perhaps a "rising group," with some songs known in a niche but nothing groundbreaking. you and your group would actively work to bring recognition to your work both inside and outside korea, as in both scenarios, you wouldn't have a very satisfying popularity index.

the idols that would best match your vibe the most are yujin (IVE), yeosang (ATEEZ), joshua (Seventeen), and jennie (BLACKPINK).

you can check more of my contents on my masterlist

in this end of the year i'm planing to post a pac about how will be your first three months of 2024 + advice and maybe a christmas pac. stay tuned ;)

follow me and help to choose the free tarot game i'll be doing when reaching 1K !

#— duckie notes ⪩♡⪨ #tarot readings #PAC #pick a card #pick a pile #free readings #tarot community #tarotblr #kpop tarot #kpop readings #kpop reading

[girlgrouptrash101]

Karina (Aespa) as Your Girlfriend

Requests:

"aespa’s karina as your gf please?"

"Can you do Karina from aespa as a girlfriend please?"

"I would like to request Aespa Karina as your girlfriend 😍"

"hi!! i hope your having a great day and i hope your doing well, can i request aespa’s karina as your gf? thank you~"

"Hello! Can I please request Aespa’s Karina as your girlfriend? Thank you!"

A/N: cannot believe it has been over 2 years since I've written anything lol. so here's a lil something to try get the creative juices flowing again wOO 🤭

- C

when 99% of the relationship is you just staring at karina and wondering how someone can be that beautiful. as you SHOULD

idk why but i feel like karina is the perfect person for the trope where she would make a habit of going to the same coffee shop every day even though she hates coffee,, just because you were the cute barista that worked there

despite her cool and composed aura, she unfortunately had no idea how to talk to you outside of ordering a drink; her brain would just fizzle out whenever she tried to strike up further conversation 🥲

so you had to be the one to take the first step, which took a hot minute because perhaps. miss yoo jimin had a sliiiiiightly threatening aura at first (you quickly learned she was really just a cutie patootie behind that stoic face she tended to wear. teehee)

after gaining enough courage, you ended up asking her out for coffee because you thought hm,, she comes here every day for coffee she must love it!

safe to say it was a little surprising when she responded with a very embarrassed "...i don't even like coffee"

with the tips of her ears flushing red as she had to explain her reasoning behind coming in every day

you decided instead to take her to the carnival that came to town every summer

[insert cliche top of the ferris wheel kiss here]

and every summer since then you've always gone to the carnival together, the two of you running around to go on all the rides like little kids, never getting tired of it even though you do the same thing every time it comes

she's the kind of girl to be super head over heels for you but never admit it until those times where you lay side by side in bed at night, your eyes doing your best to see each other's silhouettes in the dark

her hand coming up to rest on your cheek, thumb gently caressing your face as she reminds you of how much you mean to her

but don't bring it up the morning after unless you wanna get hit with the "idek what you're talking about i would never be so sappy 🤨"

fit checks!!!

refuses to leave the house in said fit unless you send a paragraph in all caps hyping her tf up (it's just what she deserves!)

queen of soft launching your relationship on social media 🥹

like IG stories of flowers you gave her, or your hands intertwined, but nothing too much more than that

because it's her relationship and she doesn't need the world to know about every little thing you two get up to,, that's for her to know and her only

well......... her and the aespa girlies who can't help but smile every time their leader comes home and launches herself face first into her pillow, gushing over how much she likes you and how nice your date was

(which she will NEVER admit happens. she's no softie, okay? okay. yes she is hehehehe)

ningning stealing karina's phone at the dorm and blowing your phone up with memes n sending off guard pics of Karina lol <3

Loves going for walks in the park nearby, no matter the weather or time, especially if there's something on her mind and she just wants to get some fresh air and chat it out with you

lives in your hoodies whether you like it or not, you have no choice cuz girlie just treats your wardrobe as hers

never brings PJs when she's staying at yours as an excuse for you to lend her even more clothes

brings a film camera everywhere,, her favourite thing is when the film fills up and she gets the pictures developed so she can bring them back to you and you can look back over the memories shared together

scrapbooking together !!! will even spend hours in the stationary shop looking for the perfect pen/washi tape to use for it hehe.

Can't stand it but also loves it when you compliment her as often as you do

(but it hurts ur heart a little when you feel she doesn't believe what you say is true, you wish she could feel the same love she has for you for herself too :[ )

so you pledge to always be there to lift her up and be her #1 fan!! in both day to day life and as a My of course

which meanssss first row seats to all the aespa concerts, practice nights, just generally supporting her through thick and thin, and she will no doubt do the same for you!

and that one day you came to an aespa fansign to surprise her 🥹 she had to hold back all the affection she wanted to give you :((((

gaming nights 🤓 and by gaming i mean gardenscapes....... god she's such a lil nerd

anime nights 🤓 her getting all excited when her faves come on screen, smacking you on the leg repeatedly with joy while she explains what's going on (because as much as you enjoy sitting down to watch her favourite shows w her, you really didn't understand half of it LOL)

loooooves late night arcade dates

especially so she can win plushies in the claw machines,,, or rather, you can win them for her (so chivalrous 😁)

her love for claw machine plushies gets so bad that your bed now has a mountain of them stacked up that you have to throw off before bed everyyyyy night omg

not to change the subject but like. Karina's morning cuddles 🥹

or for the mornings where you wake up late, your eyes opening to the sound of her padding back into the bedroom to check on you, a smile creeping onto your face as you feel the bed sink where she sits by your side

and when she leans over to kiss your forehead, her gorgeous locks framing her face while her cute glasses slip down her nose 🥹🥹🥹 IM GONNA CRY

tldr; the softest girl that just wants to be loved the way she loves you 😔

#aespa #Karina #aespa karina #yoo jimin #aespa fluff #aespa scenario #aespa reaction #aespa fanfic #aespa writing #girl group scenarios #girl groups #kpop girl groups #kpop girls #kpop reactions #karina x reader #aespa x reader #girl group fluff #girl group headcanons #aespa headcanons #kpop #kpop gg #kpop fanfic #kpop x reader #girl group #girl group x reader

[jinkookspencil]

superstar | jjk

you, the quiet, lonely achiever, get paired up with the superstar new student at your university for a group project... and he needs all the help he can get

description/tw/tags: ~7.1k words / jungkook x chubby (f) reader / one-shot / fluff with a tiny dash of angst / strangers to friends to lovers / university AU / this is a request, submitted by the lovely @cat123jkbunny / i hope you (all) like it! / fatphobia (details: y/n is insecure and quiet and she gets bullied for her body and is made fun of for it, with someone insinuating she isn't good enough because of her body. There is also a scene where she feels like she is ashamed to eat in a crowded place but jk helps her out of that) / clean except for kissing and swearing / this is for my fellow curvy/chubby/plus girlies, you are all beautiful and i am always here for you and i hope you like this / feedback is always welcome and it's appreciated! note: i have 2 half-written drabbles (AND even some more ideas) that emerged from this fic request, with the same couple! If you guys like this and want to see those - let me know!

┅ ┅ ┅ ┅

Please not Jeon Jungkook. Please God, not Jeon Jungkook. Anyone…. anyone but…

“….Jeon Jungkook.”

Damn it.

His name echoed throughout the gigantic lecture hall and in your skull. Out of every student in your class, did it really have to be him? The one paired assignment you had in your course had to be with Jeon Jungkook. As your professor called out the pairs… there seemed to be no one left but the two of you and the final pair, who were always together, his best friends Taehyung and Jimin. You’d gladly work with either of them instead, or anyone really….

There was nothing wrong with Jeon Jungkook… nothing at all. That was what was so bewildering about your university's superstar. Jeon Jungkook was the school's…. everything. Enigmatically the star athlete, a featured artist, a Dean’s List candidate, and even a band member on the weekends, apparently.  He was the student that transferred to your prestigious university - absolutely unheard of - simply because the faculty were that impressed by him. With a reputation like that, it wasn’t long before everyone knew his name and face and was captivated by him immediately. Even the professors took a liking to him straight away - you’d grown tired of hearing them mention his name during office hours while they seemed to be getting tired of you. Every girl and guy on campus fawned over him - within good reason, you had to admit, considering his reputation and easy-on-the-eyes appearance… though you'd never stare his way for too long. The point remained:

If you went unseen, Jeon Jungkook was seen.

Being paired with him meant that whether you liked it or not, you would be in the spotlight in some way. No matter what - you’d have to talk to him, for God’s sake. You think to bolt out of the hall, find his email address, and just send him a breakdown of your responsibilities for the assignment or even an offer to do all the work yourself. You’d hate to, but if it meant interacting with Jeon Jungkook as little as possible and remaining unseen, you’d do it - what’s a few all-nighters and extra work when faced with the humiliation of talking to the school’s most popular person?

“Y/N?”

Shit.

People hardly called you by your name at university - your one friend had already graduated, so just being called would’ve startled you enough… let alone having heard it from such a hushed, singsong voice. Turning around, you see the enigmatic man standing right above you. Everything made sense in an instant. The love, seeing his kind smile. The admiration, seeing his muscles. The crushes and rumored weekly love letters he received, seeing… him.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m Jungkook,” he says, gesturing towards himself as if you’d never seen him or heard of him. “I don’t know if you know me, I sit all the way in the back? With Taehyung and Jimin?”

“Hi, I know who you are, Jungkook,” you mumble.

“Oh, cool,” he says, still smiling. “I guess we’re together! For the assignment, I mean...”

“Yeah, I guess so. You don’t really have to worry about a thing, though. I can just send you an email later breaking down what each of us should do, or I can just do it all by myself, and we’ll-”

“Oh. No,” he says, quietly interrupting you. “I… can’t have that. I don’t think that’ll work.”

You felt whatever polite expression was on your face fade at that moment… What did he mean by ‘no’?

“I want to actually work on this… I want to work on it together… please.”

You had no idea what to think at that moment, only replaying his quiet, hushed ‘please’ over and over again as he stood beside you, fiddling with his earrings.

“Jungkook, I can take care of it. You really don’t have to…,” you start, but he interrupts you again, shaking his head and sitting down beside you in the now almost empty classroom.

“No, Y/N. I..,” he starts in a hushed tone. “I’m really falling behind in this class and we have the exam coming up…. It’s not just that, it all seems so interesting it’s just that my stupid brain can’t comprehend much of it.”

Jeon Jungkook? Falling behind? Admitting to an unknown fact? Call himself ‘stupid’? Sitting in front of you, he’d finally been looking at you, his wide eyes lowered since the moment he’d approached. It was eerie too see, a look behind the curtain into the life of your community’s local celebrity when you’d been nothing but just another spectator.

“Look, I always want to do things on my own too, so I get where you're coming from...” he continues, “…and that must mean you can try to understand how desperate I am here. It’s hard to ask for help, but… I need it. I’m not lazy, I promise. I need actual… help... please.”

So that’s why.

The shock faded away in an instant. If there was one thing you might've been known for at university, it would definitely have been your grades. Strangers came and went, looking for “the fat girl at the top of the class," as a couple of students kindly called you, never bothering to ask your name. They never got consideration back or even a glance in their direction, let alone your work when they dared to ask to copy it…. but… Jeon Jungkook asked for help. Not to copy the homework, get basic instructions, or an "in" with certain professors. But help. And for the chance to work on it together.

A refusal rested at the tip of your tongue, even then, but that quiet ‘please’ was still on a loop in your mind…

How could you say no?

“Okay..”

“Yes! Good! Great, okay,” Jungkook says enthusiastically. Did he always have a wife, bunny-toothed smile? It was adorable. “Can we meet at the library tomorrow?”

“…Sure, Jungkook.”

“Perfect. Get ready, Y/N. I have a lot of questions. Oh, wait, first of all - what was that song you were humming on your way out of class yesterday?”

┅ ┅ ┅ ┅

You suspected it would be the one study session to get Jungkook up to speed and lay out the work for the assignment. But the one session turned into two, which turned into three, and before you knew it, you and Jungkook would be meeting at the library every single day.

It was… overwhelming to say the least. The workload, definitely, as well as the added time spent teaching him but on top of that… the stares and whispers nearly set you off when other students, even his own friends, Taehyung and Jimin, would murmur ineligible words when they'd spot you together in the library. It didn't slip past you that it definitely must’ve been a weird sight, the Jeon Jungkook sitting next to a nobody like you...  but when you were actually with him, the world around you faded away. All that mattered was the material you knew by heart and the boy who needed to learn it. And boy, did he need to.

After an hour of explaining the material to him one day, he’d continued to stare at you blankly. “Jungkook…. Are you even listening to me?” you resigned multiple times, realizing he had a tendency to space out at random points throughout the day. It was enough to almost tempt you to ghost him and just present him with a finished assignment or a detailed lesson plan.... but when he snapped out of it, he always hit you with an adorable, child-like pout and that irresistible plea: “Can you explain it to me again, please?”

So, you resisted the urge you felt before and after study sessions, to neglect him and stop the meetings altogether. In truth, you could’ve. Jungkook would do well enough to pass... but you couldn't accept him achieving the bare minimum. "I'm trying to steal your crown," he joked on day two, proving one of the many things you and everyone else had heard about Jeon Jungkook.

Finding out something new about Jungkook was to turn the page on the most fascinating book you'd ever read with limitless pages, for it seemed as though he and his talents could be described as such. It - he - was awe-inspiring, new, and enticing in the best of ways. And at times, it felt like it was only yours to hold, for you were the person discovering aspects to him, hardly believing it been you realizing it yourself, up close and personal.

He was definitely a competitive one, that, everyone knew - but you’d realized it went far beyond sports - aiming to rival you and fellow Dean's List candidate Kim Namjoon for the valedictorian spot despite admitting he'd still be behind if he tried his hardest, just thankful to have some worthy competitors. It proved that it was real ambition that Jungkook had in him. In contrast to the rumors that he never really cared about his studies, you saw just how clever and curious he'd been, in addition to his dedication in showing up every day, even when he didn't need to. He loved everything he did and never limited himself, whereas you’d been studying as much as you could in your field only to further advance in your comfort zone of academia. When you'd revealed this to him, he, ever the competitive one, expressed his jealousy at the stability ahead of you, helping ease the countless worries you'd had about your own future.

And, you’d discovered the fact that he’s, surprisingly for an artist and musician, more in his element when it came to logic, numbers, and science - with spreadsheets, calculations, and graphs just to keep track of your progress on the assignment, though he skewed the numbers to work on the assignment further. It frustrated him most as he struggles with words, essays, and theoretical concepts, which never made sense to you, considering he felt so much and made you feel so much in return. It was never stress or anger, even on the hardest of days - he had a surprisingly relaxed attitude for such an accomplished athlete. Rather, he expressed patience and envy when you'd been teaching him, and what got you most - his awe at the subject matter… even though he zoned out often. His eyes lit up whenever he started to understand something… you could swear you almost saw stars in his pupils whenever something evidently clicked inside his brain. And every time it did, every time you felt that damned butterfly in your stomach whenever he smiled… only to leave the study session to see daggers in your direction… you had to remind yourself - you were just here to help him.

He was Jeon Jungkook, for crying out loud. You were just another person who started to like him, as everyone does.

You had to remind yourself that his eyes were ordinary, brown eyes - no matter how big and starry they'd looked on certain nights. That though you’d gotten used to the way his soapy scent blended with that of the books around you, the familiarity of the books’ sweetness on its own was just as lovely. That people were looking. That he asked to study, not to get to know you. And that he had his pick of anyone he wanted in the entire university and beyond... there's no reason he'd want to spend time with you for longer than he had to and for more than you had been spending already. Your mental reminders only worked that hard when you had work to do.

For the first time in your life, you felt like a fool. For laughing at his every joke. For continuing to study with him and not putting an end to it the first time your heart fluttered. For not stopping the crush that you had on Jeon Jungkook. Though you felt like one, you never acted like a fool in front of him - at least, you didn’t think so, holding onto that paper-thin hope to at least ground you in some way. It was just as easy to remember that the sheer impossibility of anything happening, plus the actual studying, were at the forefront. It was hard to kill the butterflies, though. They returned every day, whenever you’d bounce off one another in explanation and conversation, drifting off-topic and sometimes getting personal, when he joked around and tried to convince you that university isn’t actually the end of the world… or even when you simply sat working together in comfortable silence.

That was exactly how it was on a regular Thursday afternoon. Tucked away in your corner of the library, you and Jungkook worked away peacefully when a student you’d never seen walked up to Jungkook. A regular occurrence, seeing as he was so popular.

“Hey, Kookie,” you hear, your eyes still fixated on your screen.

“Hey, Jia,” he replies. You can’t tell if he looked up at her or not. Did he? What did his eyes say? Fuck, why should you care?

“Hey, what… what are you doing?” she says with a giggle. If your peripheral sight was to be trusted, she placed her hand on his shoulder. You shouldn’t care, but resist a smile when he shoves it away. “You’re here every day, Jungkookie. Aren’t you bored? Like… what are you doing?”

“I’m working,” he replies.

“What about her?”

Glancing at her direction, you could see it on her - Jia's - face that she definitely didn’t know your name, and you knew the stares you got well enough to know the look on her face was one of confusion or, dare you say it, disgust. Jungkook's eyes flickered down from you, before returning to his notes.

“Y/N and I have that assignment together,” he replies, “the final project for Mr. P’s class before the exam.”

“Ohhhhhh,” she says, nodding in realization. “Okay, that makes sense then,” she giggles. “See you, Kookie. Call me if you want to have some fun tonight.”

To you, it was clear as day what she meant. That makes sense. In a way, she was right. It was the only possible way Jungkook would be sitting here, with you, every single day. He never would have - wouldn’t have even known you existed - if he hadn’t been paired with you. He made sense with girls like Jia - someone he’d have fun with rather than study with and beautiful in every way society wanted her to be, starting with her model-like body to compliment his built one. That made sense, you reminded yourself.

It must’ve been a good minute since you’d done anything on your computer, so focused on making sure the pesky insects in your stomach were dead, that you barely heard your name being called repeatedly until Jungkook waved his hand in front of your screen.

“HELLO?!”

“What?” you jolt, seeing his crouched head peeking to look at you.

“I was asking if you could throw this. The trash can is next to you.”

Jungkook hands you a piece of paper, unfolded, before sitting down and staring back at his screen, this time with his headphones on. You move to throw the paper out in a hurry, almost missing what was scribbled on it.

Jia’s name and phone number.

┅ ┅ ┅ ┅

Before you knew it, the deadline for the assignment arrived, and you and Jungkook were done. After a particularly long night at the library finalizing the paper, you uploaded the document and he hit the daunting blue button titled ‘submit’.

“YES!” Jungkook cheers from behind you, having looked over your shoulder to submit the paper together. With his head right beside yours with his arm planted on the desk in front of you, the veins you’d never noticed before on full display. Just when you realized it had been too close not to get panicked, he forces your chair to spin and face him, sticking his hand out for a high-five. “We did it!”

“We did,” you sigh, meeting his hand, pushing away the feeling of it in your mind.

“Why on Earth do you look sad?” Jungkook asks. “We should be celebrating! Let’s go get fried chicken!”

“Just thinking of the exam coming up and my other paper,” you half-lie.

How could you tell him you’re already mourning the time you spent together? He shouldn’t catch on, though…

“But I guess you’re right. It is a good thing that we’re done with it.” Really, it was. The delusional thoughts would cease. Might as well say goodbye. “It’s been fun… getting to do this and getting to know you, Jungkook.”

You reach out your hand for a high-five, as he had, but instead of going to meet it, he takes two steps back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You think you’re getting rid of me that easily?” he questions, cocking his brow.

“What?!”

“You said it yourself. We have the exam coming up.”

“Jungkook, you should be fine. You aced that assignment.”

“No, absolutely not.  I want… I need you. Your presence motivates me, and when I’m with you, I feel at ease…. with the material. It’s less scary.” It’s hard to ignore how wide Jungkook’s pupils had gotten as he fidgeted with his lip ring.

“Jungkook, Mr. P's exams are beasts unearthed from the very depths of hell. If I’m being completely honest, I can’t spend all my time teaching you," you say, speaking the truth.

“I’m not even asking for that. Just let me be near or around you. I’ll be quiet and ask minimal questions in the case of an emergency.”

Staring up at him, he had the same pleading and innocent expression on his face when he first approached you after you’d been assigned together. The time you spent together only confirmed that when he bit his lower lip and simultaneously arched his brows inwards and upwards… he was serious and pleading.

“I… might kick you out some days, Jungkook. When I need to focus extra hard.”

“Kick me out, then. Say the word, and I’m gone. And on the flip side, say the word, and I’m there - with anything you need. Like…. iced coffee! I know your order by now. Iced Vanilla Latte with an extra shot of espresso.”

Jungkook retraces his steps, standing right over you. It’s only when his hand reaches out do you realize your arm is upright, your unmet high-five still in the air. His hand meets yours softly, and without a single sound, fingers and palms perfectly aligned. His skin was calloused from his paintbrush and instruments, cushioned against your soft skin, his slender fingers towering over your wide ones… Pulling your hand down, your fingers get caught in his, which slightly curved towards you before your hand slips away.

Taking a deep breath, you notice Jungkook clear his throat. Suddenly, neither of you knew what to do with your hands, but he thinks fast, stuffing them in his pockets before finally looking back at you.

“So, deal?”

“Deal,” you yield, foolishly.

┅ ┅ ┅ ┅

Thank God you were smart as fuck.

Because though Jungkook kept true to his word, it turns out it was extremely hard to focus when your crush was doing one of two things - either quietly sitting beside you in all his glory (with no distractingly helpful responsibility of teaching him) or worse, when he was tending to you. There were the iced coffees, the water intake reminders, the extra highlighters, the space he gave you when he felt you needed it - even checking in with an “I’ll kick myself out for today” on a particularly stressful night before you knew you needed to do it yourself, for some alone time. You rarely wanted it anymore anyways. His questions and interruptions were few, always pleasant, of course, and never took up much of your time. It was worth it, seeing that proud smile of his when he now answered his own questions, just making sure from you that they were actually correct. The butterflies never stopped, especially considering he now sat beside you in the front corner of Mr. P’s lecture hall, abandoning Jimin and Taehyung on the other side of the room... The random, beautiful doodles he adorned your notebook with always made you smile harder whenever you studied - he was there even when he wasn’t.

“I knew you’d still be here,” Jungkook says, walking to your desk in the quiet library. Looking at the clock on your screen, you finally realize the time.

“What can I say?” you sigh. “What are you doing here, Jungkook? Isn't today Jimin's party, or whatever it was?”

“It was, and it might've been the dullest party Jimin ever threw. I know you cruelly rejected my invitation, but honestly... I don't blame you. It was the same old stuff and people and.. here's way more fun," he explained.

"Oh, come on," you reply, rolling your eyes. "Go back to the party, Jungkook. There's no way you think studying is more fun than even the most boring party at Jimin's."

"Hmmm... you're right. I still picked you instead because I missed you." The sentence escapes Jungkook's lips so quickly you didn't have a chance to realize what he'd said before he went on. "I wish you'd come... to give yourself a break. Knowing you'd be here, I decided to come and force you to rest. I also know that you haven’t eaten yet and that we still didn’t celebrate our assignment. We really should celebrate now, anyways.”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t check your email?”

You move to frantically get to your laptop before he blocks you. “No, you’re done for the day. Or at least, the hour - you didn't move all day, and I'm worried. Plus, your eyes are too tired. Should I get eye drops?”

“Jungkook... what score did we get?!”

“Only a 95%,” he shrugs, acting cool and uncaring before finally breaking into a wide smile. “We did it!”

A 95% was among the highest scores you’d ever gotten at university - a mark good enough to ensure you'd be the valedictorian instead of Kim Namjoon, who you’d been in competition with ever since freshman year. Not only that, 95% was a fast track that allowed you to possibly get your work published. Shrieking, you jump up from your chair and into Jungkook’s open arms. Realizing your position in the rush of it all, with your head on his shoulder, his tucked into the crook of your neck, and his hands wrapped around your plush waist… your heart only raced faster, which you didn’t think was possible. You quickly unravel your arms from around his back, and it takes a second longer for him to do the same.

You just hugged Jeon Jungkook. Why was he red? Probably ashamed, wondering if anyone saw him hug you.

“I never thought I'd... hear you scream in the library," he laughs, turning to a paper bag he'd placed on the table when he arrived. "I brought that fried chicken to celebrate. Let’s sit a while. You still need a break from all the screens.”

“I’d love to, but I can’t… eat here.”

“Why not?”

“There are some students around. You, too.”

“So? No one will mind the smell of fried chicken. That couple over there is eating it, too.”

"No, it’s…." you sigh, feeling as though you’re finally exposing some sort of unknown truth to Jungkook, despite the fact that he could obviously see you. "It’ll only make people judge me more. Stare at me more. For eating something like this in public. It’s like I…shouldn’t… with everything I’ve got going on. Like… it’s shameful?”

“But there’s nothing to be ashamed about. Nothing at all.” Jungkook looked just as confused as he’d been when he didn’t understand something in the lesson plan, but suddenly, it shifted to his ‘got it’ state. When he finally knew what to do. “Fuck it. Fuck everyone. Sit. Let’s eat. If anyone dares to look at you…. or, God forbid, say anything... You know I'm on the university's wrestling team, right?"

You nod and laugh because everyone knew, but he goes on. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure the whole university does, so I'd like to see some punk try anything."

He goes silent, shaking his head as he unloads the bag he brought and encouraging you to eat until he'd already finished half the bucket. Hesitantly, you grab a drumstick before finally taking a bite with your eyes fixated on Jungkook the entire time. You’d have avoided his gaze, even turned away, but with his raised brows and a closed-mouth smile, desperately awaiting your review… you knew you had to give him an answer fast, and you do so after the very first bite, shooting him a thumbs up. It was really good - sweet, sour, and spicy all at once. With your second bite and his proud smile, you recall another rumor you’d heard about Jungkook long ago. That he went on a tour of all the fried chicken spots in the city to find the best one. Asking him about it, you didn’t expect to find out that not only was it true, but it was also a life-long, worldwide mission of his - “Forget all the shit I’m talented at, this is my life’s purpose,” he proclaimed, saying that the chicken he'd brought had been his favorite so far. "And I wouldn't get you anything less than the best I’ve found, darling."

You felt your face flush, knowing Jungkook must've called you that jokingly. Still, the pet name sent your mind into overdrive, more than the studying did, as you fed your delusions for a little while. Darling.

You could've sworn you were actually living in your delusions later that night when he dropped you home for the very first time. The conversation never stopped, even until you were standing by your apartment building. "Still gonna study?" he asked, staring at your door.

"Maybe," you replied, knowing you'd be too delusional to do so, and if you tried, you would only end up staring at the words and cursing Jungkook for being too perfect and making you this way.

"Well, do you want to eat ramyeon now?” he’d said with a giggle. Catching you off guard, you nearly choked on air at the double entendre coming from him, but rolled your eyes and answered with a simple “Yes” instead, only for his smile to fade quickly.

Your fat ass should not be making jokes like that when you knew damn well you wouldn’t have shot. Especially not after dinner.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Jungkook," you hurriedly say, attempting to dash inside, only for your jacket to get caught on the way in. Looking down, you realize it hadn't been the knob that stopped it but rather Jungkook's fingers, clutching onto the fabric before letting it slip away. "Sorry. Goodnight."

┅ ┅ ┅ ┅

The moment kept replaying in your head, buried in your hands on the desk, agonizing over the humiliation as a break from agonizing over the workload. You had time to agonize today, Jungkook wasn’t there yet. If he saw you like that, he’d nudge you to get out of it.

“Hello?”

Jolted by the sudden voice of a woman, you look up to see Jia. “Hi,” you say, too awkwardly even for you. “Can I help you with something? Jungkook’s not here if you’re looking for him.”

“I can see that,” she scoffs. “I came to talk to you.” In all this time, your first run-in with her had been your only semblance of interaction, though you hadn't ever spoken to each other.

“Oh… Why?”

“What’s going on… between the two of you?”

“Me and... Jungkook? He told you, we had that assignment together….”

“That’s done,” she snaps.

“And now I’m just helping out with his studies.”

“Then why did Nani see him drop you home?”

“We’re… friends, Jia,” you mutter. You’d never called Jungkook that before, a friend, but you can’t help but think it’s fitting to do so... It fit, didn’t it? Weren’t you… friends? At the very least? Or...

“We’re classmates,” you quickly add.

“Friends - that's the funniest shit I've heard. His actual friends, Jimin and Taehyung refuse to tell me anything when he left that party. They were probably concerned and unsettled by it all…. I mean, everyone here can see how much you gush over him, you know? It’s embarrassing. I don’t know how he doesn’t see it and steer clear - especially since you should come with a cattle crossing sign, seriously.”

Was it that obvious?

“We all know he's just using you for that piece of meat between your ears until the exam's over. He's not an idiot, you know? Don’t get carried away thinking anyone outside your league would be interested in you.”

An emptiness grew with the uncovering of a deep fear of yours. Of course. Of course, he was still using you, you idiot... It was just the help he needed. Neither of you could have gotten the 95% on your own... He said he needed the help... the mark... She was right. He wasn't an idiot... but wasn't the Jungkook you knew too kind to use someone like that?

It was then that your phone, lying on the desk, lit up with a message, clear as day for the both of you to read.

[from: jungkook] “i’m on my way to you rn. brought kimbap!! hope you like it. made it myself :) ”

“Pft. He knows how to keep a fat girl on his hook. You fucking whale.”

You fucking fool.

“Heyooooooo!” you hear from a short distance in that familiar singsong voice that tugged at your heartstrings. Jungkook turned a corner and finally appeared from between the shelves. “Kimbap! Wait, what the fuck is wrong?”

Shit. You hadn’t realized tears were streaming down your face. As if you could be any more humiliated. Not even able to glance his way, despite him repeating the question over and over again, mere steps away from you, you stuff your things into your bag and rush out.

The last thing you catch is Jia’s scoff.

┅ ┅ ┅ ┅

Suddenly, avoiding Jungkook was easy. That urge you had long ago, the one in line with you, Jungkook, and the ways of the world…. Your two different worlds.

He’d chased you, easily getting to you and stopping you. Repeating his question again.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you had let out, staring at the ground. You couldn’t talk if you wanted to.

“Are you kidding? What is it? Tell me…” he says quietly, putting his hands on your shoulders. You shake them off in an instant, walking away, only for him to follow close behind. “What is it? You’re not okay.”

“It’s… stress.”

“Bullshit - I’ve obviously seen you stressed. This isn’t it. I’ve never seen-”

“Jungkook, I’m kicking you out. Keep your word that you’ll stay out,” you snap, finally turning to look at him in the crowded library. If he’d never seen you this way, you’d never seen him that way either. Hurt. You can’t see why. He got what he wanted out of you, plus you’d told him you’d kick him out….

If only it was easy to keep him out. Jungkook had always listened when it came to the material, but it was as if he never knew how to in any other regard. His texts and calls over the weekend went ignored until you finally mustered up the courage to block him. You thought that would be that - Jungkook would go back to his world, and you’d go back to yours - but on your first day back, you find him sitting on the floor at the door to the library at the crack of dawn.

You’d specifically gone that early to avoid Jungkook - who always showed up during the late afternoons or evenings after having just woken up then on his off days. Yet here he was, sitting cross-legged by the glass door you’d walked into together countless times, glancing at the handful of other students with exams and deadlines as they walked in, out, and around him. Even from a distance away, you could see how wide his doe-eyes were. And he jumps up the moment he spots you slowly approaching the door.

“How’d you know I’d be here?” you ask quietly, trying to avoid his gaze.

“You say that as if you don't practically live in the library," he says, almost amused. "If you mean how I knew you'd be here so early - I took a chance. I would’ve waited all day until I saw you… All week, if that's what it took. And I probably would've convinced Mr. P to include a note with your exam sheet if you decided you disliked me until then.”

….Shit. Sure, you’d never end up with him, but he only fidgeted with the loose strings on his hoodie when he was really stressed - a sight you'd only seen once after a supposed tough day at wrestling practice. Now, they'd been undone with a hole at the bottom of the thick fabric. Knowing you caused it...

“I’m sorry, Jungkook. I shouldn’t have…”

“Yeah. You shouldn’t have,” he grumbles before shaking his head. “No, you don’t... You don’t owe me anything. You don’t owe me your time… I should’ve stayed “out” like I promised, but… I just want to know if you were okay.”

“I am,” you barely let out. With tears bubbling in your eyes, you walk into the library.

“I don’t believe it,” he says, trailing you.

“I kicked you out, remember? Stay out. Why do you even care?" you say without turning back.

“I care about you!”

When you finally stop to stare at him, Jungkook doesn't allow you to deny him, immediately grabbing your hand and pulling you deep into the library, through the twisty, student-filled desks, between sky-high bookshelves.

“Y/N, I want you to be okay. You don’t owe me an explanation if you don’t want to tell me anything, but… that's all I want. For you to be okay and happy and... you can't lie to me and tell me that you're alright. You can kick me out as much as you want to, I promised I would let you do so, but I'll always be waiting for you right outside that door. If you'll allow me to... I'll always be here for you."

The tears come pouring out, and without a thought, you rush into him, sobbing into his chest. “Hey, hey,” he says, a hand in your hair and the other soothing your back. "I’m here. I told you I'm here.” You missed his embrace. Had assumed you’d never feel it again. You probably won’t, past this point.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, with his arms wrapped firmly around your waist as you stare up at him. “Is it the stress?”

“No, Jungkook…. It’s.. you.”

“Me?!” he says, gesturing towards himself.

“Well, no, actually… I guess it’s me,” you mumble, staring at his hands, now at his sides.

“I don’t understand, Y/N.”

“Jungkook, we need to stop these study sessions. Not for a week but… I’m permanently kicking you out, and I don't know if I have it in me to ever unlock that stupid metaphorical door again.”

“Exile, huh?" To your surprise, he nods. "At least let me know this… Am I that annoying?”

Out of desperation, you almost say yes, but you’ve been cruel enough - Jungkook didn’t deserve any of it.

“No. No, not at all…”

He pauses. “I don't understand, but if this will make you happier, all I can say in this case is… thank you. I don't about my grades as much as you do, so I'm really just thank you for all this time. I…. I liked…. I liked spending this time... spending this time with you,” Jungkook lets out, his voice breaking.

Looking up at him, you see his eyes red. Was he about to cry too?

“It won’t,” you mumble.

“What?” he asks, looking down at you as if he were looking up, teary-eyed and innocent.

You either tell him, or tell him nothing and risk…. other people telling him, along with their own added commentary on how you weren’t good enough. It would be easier just to let that happen... Letting go of him yourself, despite the pain, would be more merciful on you both. So, you do, breaking away from his embrace.

“It won’t make me happier if we stopped.”

“Then why do we have to?”

“Jungkook, we need to stop because… for the first time in my life... I’ve set myself up for failure.”

“You’re the smartest person in the entire university. How on Earth did you set yourself up to fail?”

"Because I did it by stupidly falling for the best person in this entire university. I... like you, Jungkook," you spit out, hiding your face in your hands as soon as the confession leaves your lips.

“How is that setting yourself up for failure?” he sniffs.

You can’t help but notice a shift in his tone as he pulls your hands away from your face and tilts your chin towards him. He looked as serious as he sounded.

“Jungkook, be real.”

He stares at you, confused.

“You’re.... a star. Everyone here knows who you are - you're the best in every field imaginable - sports, art, music, academia, and on top of all of that, you're the sweetest, kindest, smartest - fucking best person I, well, everyone knows. And... look at you and look at me. I make sense of everything in this world, and this doesn’t make sense. Everyone knows it. They already give us weird looks for even sitting together. I know you just needed help, and I was happy to offer it, but I thought I'd be smarter than this. I think you probably offered to be there for me as a friend. I think we're friends, right? Either way, I think I've been an idiot for even thinking of you in that-"

Jungkook's lips meet yours, interrupting your ramble, train of thought, and your breathing with a kiss.

“You think too much," he whispers against your lips, stroking your soft cheek with the back of his index finger. "You can never set yourself up for failure, genius. I like you too.”

“No.... Stop," you say, taking two steps away from him. "Jungkook, you're being mean."

"Mean?!"

It had to have been a prank. Jungkook being so committed onto getting a good grade, once again.

"You can't use me like this. And what, you'll ghost me after the exam? After all the help? Pretend I never existed?"

"You say that and call me 'mean'? Do you really think I'd do that?" he asks, letting out a huff with his eyebrows furrowed. You'd never seen Jungkook.... angry. "I would never. Not to you, or anyone. If that were the case, if I weren't so goddamn in love with you, I'd be standing ashamed, fessing up in front of you instead of feeling so hurt and angry. The girl I like really thinks so low of me?" Taking a deep breath, Jungkook collects himself. "I wouldn't spend a semester with you if that was the case. I don't know why you'd think... that."

"It doesn't make sense, Jungkook...."

“it makes sense to me,” he says, stepping towards you until he is inches away and you can almost feel the heat between your bodies. “Why does it not make sense to you? You’re clever, aren't you? What’s that theory - every action has an equal and opposite reaction? You like me, and I like you. Equal. Two-ways. Makes perfect sense to me.”

“So… you aren’t just using me for help?” you ask. "You... like me?"

“No, no, I’m not using you for your brain…." he says snarkily before tapping his forehead against yours and letting out a smug laugh. "In fact, I think you’ve been pretty stupid.”

“Stupid?!” you recoil at a word you had never been called before.

“I said pretty stupid. And by that, I mean stupid pretty - in that you're unbelievably attractive - but also pretty kind of stupid, yes. You’re smarter than this, usually…." Jungkook envelops his arms around your waist once again, trapping you. Stunned, all you're able to do is look into his eyes as he goes on.

"Y/N, I want you to think for a second… Did I really need all that help I asked for? Did I really make it onto the Dean's List when I was supposedly doing that badly? Did I really not understand? Did I really need to sit beside you while we both worked? You said it yourself, I'm among the smartest kids in this school. I’ll let you in on a secret… sometimes I used to finish up my work before you and just played mini-games on the computer.”

Jungkook's hands find your face, pushing back a strand of your hair and giggling at what must've been a puzzled look on your face. When your gaze wanders in realization, trying to put all the pieces together, his hand cups your face, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“Sure, you helped me a little bit, but it was... heaven getting you to explain things to me, especially the things I already knew. It meant I could just spend my time staring at you, getting all passionate and excited. Do you know how wide you smile when I act like I 'get it'? Or whenever I actually do. It's why I keep asking you to repeat it - I can never retain any of the new information because all my brain wants to focus on is you.

For God's sake, ask Taehyung and Jimin. Ask them how much I talk about you. Did you ever actually listen to what they say when they specifically see us together in here?"

"I assumed they were making fun of you," you mumble.

Jungkook scoffs. "Yeah, no, Y/N. They tease me for having the guts to fight but not to confess, they kept trying to pressure me to do so."

It's hard to remember that Jungkook was a trained fighter when his embrace felt so safe, you think, staring at his torso in disbelief.

"Still don't believe me? Ask Mr. P how we got assigned together for that paper.”

The sentence stuns you to your core more than anything, jerking your head up to face him.

“I never needed that much help. I just… I wanted to spend time with the girl I'd had a crush on since I got here and didn’t know how to. I like you…. I always have…. idiot,” he says, pulling you closer to him until his lips meet yours in another kiss.

Just this once, you were euphoric to be so stupid.

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