#bts x ofc
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Fly V to the Moon - Ch. 26
“The one where her heart flutters straight into the pond”
Hello! This chapter was long in the planning and such a joy to write. Listen to the playlist in the recommended songs for more fun. Leave a like if you enjoy this chapter... it genuinely, truthfully, sincerely means a lot! :)
Pairing: Taehyung x OFC
Genre: Fluff, Idol AU, Coffee Shop AU, Café Singer OFC, Slow Burn
Warnings: Light swearing, but it’s all for banter. Again, this is fluff.
Word count: 2.9k (Usually short chapters!)
Recommended Songs: The Astronaut — Jin; Sunflower — Harry Styles; Sunflower — Post Malone & Swae Lee; you’re inside Monet paintings (playlist) — compiled by nobody
Summary: She’s a foreign elementary school teacher by day, a charming singer by night. Taehyung and company discover her at a small garden jazz café where she had a gig one night, only to find out from Jin that she was an arts teacher at a local school in Seoul — Jin's nephew and niece’s teacher, in fact. Taehyung finds himself on a surprise adventure to the moon.
Masterlist
Note about the Art: Did you know Monet painted 250 water lily paintaings as part of his series? They are also called Nymphéas. Real life Taehyung has expressed love for Monet’s paintings before, and some of his paintings are personal favorites of mine. As you may know, our OFC owns one particular art shirt based on one of his works that caught his attention all the way back in Chapter 2 and comes back in Chapter 20. I won’t give spoilers, but this is connected to Chapter 24. If you’re also an art lover, this virtual tour of Monet’s water lily murals might interest you. As another note, impasto is the painting technique used by Van Gogh, where brushstrokes are visible because paint is laid thickly on the canvas.
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Fly V to the Moon — by Nightscape Persona
Chapter 26: The one where her heart flutters straight into the pond
“Sunflower.”
A stroke.
“Sunflower.”
Another stroke.
“My eyes...”
One more stroke of ochre, just for good measure.
“Want you more than a melody.”
She continued to hum the song that she woke up singing and which refused to leave her mind as she layered strokes and strokes of ochre paint on her canvas.
À la impasto.
Impasto like her inspiration, which had turned up that morning in variegated brushfuls of thick and layered waves.
Yes, that morning Lia woke up and felt like painting.
Sunflowers.
It was mid-March. Snow was thawing. Green grass growing. Winter farewell show was coming.
And she had woken up with an insurmountable craving to paint and paint and paint until the ochre rays of sunlight had long faded into the blue of night.
As of lately, there had not been many mornings like this, where she awoke feeling inspired rather than absolutely hammered by the week.
As of lately, meaning as of long. With work and with the café and with life happening in between, painting had been relayed to the background. Ever since last September, perhaps, when the band convinced her to start guest-singing in their gigs.
“I've got your face.”
She dabbed more strokes of ochre on the canvas, shifting from humming to singing once more.
“Hung up high in the gallery.”
Life happening in between.
“I love this shade.”
Funny how “life happening” now included Taehyung.
“Sunflower.”
His brown eyes and his smile and his eye smiles and his brown hair turned ochre with the sunlight.
His irremediable charm.
Memories of their little dates that frequently intruded into her brain as little love letters throughout her day.
The proximity of his face.
The coldness of his hands.
The sound of his laughter, warm and deep and euphonious.
Him speaking sweet nothings in the little voice notes he started to send her everyday for the past two weeks.
Wait for me, sunflower.
The ghost of a kiss brushing past her lips.
Electricity and hummingbirds.
Maybe if I liked you less it wouldn’t be so hard to tell you this.
Recollections of words he’d said rotating around her mind every second of every hour like a merry-go-round.
I think I’ve fallen already.
A kiss or two burning on her lips.
Lia caught herself staring like stupid at the strokes on the canvas, brush mid air, paint beginning to dry.
She shook her head, giggling and blushing even when he was not there.
Perhaps she now had a muse.
Which was good.
He had already pretty much been her singing muse, a.k.a. source of nerves, since she had become aware of him attending the little gigs.
Stroke.
And he was not to blame, anyways, for not painting a thing for months. He had not yet broken into her life and made it swirl and capsize and ignite like so.
Stroke.
The most painting she had done was a few brushes and traces here and there when she helped the kiddos in class.
Funny.
As an arts teacher Lia barely painted at all.
So much for someone not wanting to become a monolith.
Out of the corner of her eye, she peeped the leaflet open flat on the console table across the room. A leftover from many months ago when she was checking out Art programs. Perhaps in France.
She dashed another stroke of ochre before any bit of regret or disappointment or whatever had time to kick in. She was happy, and she was painting now, and that’s what mattered.
Her phone buzzed.
Again.
It had been buzzing all morning.
She was deliberately ignoring it to paint.
She knew Taehyung would be busy that day, so she didn’t even bother to take a glance. Though perhaps the session could be paused to text Taehyung. A quick check in to ask how the trip was treating him that day. To let him know she was thinking of him.
She unlocked the phone.
The latest notification was a post. From Taehyung. She clicked it, immediately giddy.
It was—It was Water Lilies.
One of the many, at least.
A picture of one of the many Water Lilies paintings scattered around the world. He had tagged the location as the Metropolitan Museum of Art. New York. The caption was simply “Monet”.
She swept to the next pictures. More water lilies. And one bridge over the water lily pond. A collection of all the water lilies in that museum. A smile inevitably painted on her face. Oh, she adored him.
She gave the little post a like.
Her mind went back to their little moment in the garden when they’d discussed Monet. How the little scene seemed like a moment from a painting. Had he been thinking of her?
Her chest scrunched in fondness.
He had told her he’d visit some museums with Namjoon while they were in New York. He had told her he would send her all the pictures when he did. Maybe he forgot. Maybe he wanted to post them first. Not that she was resented or anything. Nope. She was definitely not pouting.
Hold on.
Water lilies.
The gift.
The gift.
Her heart started to beat faster.
Her phone buzzed again.
He posted something else.
Another series of water lilies. And a bridge. This time at the Museum of Modern Art. New York.
A part of her brain was itching over the thought of whether this could be the sign. The other part was short-cutting over the fact that it was in fact the sign.
The caption read:
Nymphéas, this is your sign.
Nymphéas. The water lilies.
It was indeed the sign.
Wait—Did he just call her water lily? Did he—he called her nymphéas—did he—okay, okay, okay. Her chest puffed up in rapture, nervous hummingbirds fluttering all over inside.
She jumped out of her little stool and ran to her room, where she kept it.
The gift.
She rushed back and placed it on the dining table. There it sat, mirroring her hesitation to open it in spite of the terrible itching to rip it open at once.
She started to unwrap the top like an envelope. Slowly, taking every precaution to not spoil the paper in any way. She could not and would not deface the water lilies, no.
Top safely removed, she turned the precious package upside down.
Soft cotton fell on her hands.
A folded shirt.
White.
A design hinting below the border of the fold.
An image. A painting.
Lia almost wanted to squeal. She was almost certainly positive of what it was.
She let it unfurl to see its front, and a small paper fell from within.
The little note was handwritten by Taehyung.
For my favorite art teacher with
never enough art shirts to wear.
Her heart fluttered straight into the pond.
Of course.
It was water lilies.
Of course it was the water lilies.
One of the many water lilies.
A water lily shirts.
She let herself give out a little squeal. Why not. The little shit had done it again.
One day she’d have to sue him. For health deterioration due to his grand gestures. For making her heart flutter and capsize and swirl.
It was not just the shirt. It was the gesture, the planning. That knowing he’d be away, he’d prepared a moment. The name—nymphéas—the phrase that he’d written for the whole world to see, but only she would know it was meant for her.
Their little esoteric thing.
She plunged herself into the pond again. The pond being the table, she pounded her head against the wooden table in a fit of giggles.
She should—should she? Yes. She should call him.
Lia dialed him up.
He didn’t even let it ring.
“Did you like it?”
A mix of giddiness, nerves, and a bunch of other feelings that shall not be named, Lia couldn’t help but laugh immediately upon his blunt answer.
“I loved it!,” she gushed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! How—where—how did you even get it? Never mind, I know. So you—you've been planning this since—you’re telling me you planned this ever since—ever since—before you left—but you had to have it shipped—so you—I—You!”
She heard his laughter on the other side of the line.
“So you do like it?”
“Come on, yes, I do like it!,” her voice was getting higher, “I love it!”
“Okay. Good. Okay. Okay.”
“I’ll wear it everyday. I’ll sleep in it.”
“That’s nasty.”
“Nobody can stop me.”
“The smell of rotten water lilies will.”
“Okay, yeah, no,” she tittered. “But this—this sits on the table of sweet unexpected gestures from you with a crown, right by the ramyeon stunt.”
His low laughter resounded from across the line.
“Didn’t know you had a table for sweet unexpected gestures.”
“Me neither,” she buried her face in her free hand. “But you’re making it extremely hard not to make one. When did you plan this?”
“Uhhh, that’s kind of funny.”
“How so?”
“Well. You might find it funny to learn that. . .”
“That. . . ?”
“. . . I kind of started window shopping online for art shirts in December.”
December.
“What? Wait, so you’ve had it since then?”
“No, no, no. I do have had it for weeks, buuut I was not really planning on gifting you one back then. We had just met. It’d be. . . strange.”
Okay.
“Makes sense. So, . . . when did you decide to?”
“Some day after the mini-mart incident.”
He giggled.
The ramyeon incident. Their first real face to face interaction.
Lia giggled too.
They let the call go quiet for a few seconds.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“My pleasure.”
She caressed the fabric, roaming over the painted lily pads in light hues and tints of lilac, blue, and green. Below the painting, a caption read: Claude Monet. Nymphéas, 1908. The name of a gallery was printed below.
“How come you chose this one?”
“Oh, it was hard to choose one. I seriously struggled. When the artist has over 250 water lily paintings you can choose from, how can you even choose? And I wanted to choose one that suited you. Your aura of. . . well, you.”
Lia giggled. Again.
“Good thing the number of museums that sell art shirts of the Water Lilies reduced the scope for you.”
“There were still many museums to choose from!”
She let her laughter run freely across the line. She heard him too, buoyant across the line.
“And then you visited the museums and didn’t tell me.”
“I can hear you pout, but! There’s a reason! I was itching to send you the pictures on the day we visited. Dying. But if I did, it wouldn’t have been that obvious that it was the sign! Actually! It would not have been worthy to be called the sign!”
This Taehyung. She buried her head on the dining table, giggling. Again.
“Got it, got it. It would have ruined your big moment.”
“Yes, actually, so please, do not laugh. Actually, do please continue laughing, I love that sound.”
Lia once more felt the urge to cover her face with her hand. She was certain she had grown beetroot red.
“You, sir, are an absolute hopeless romantic.”
“I’ll take that, yes. Besides, I have two more shirts for you from this trip. Because one water lily shirt is not enough when there’s 250 to choose from.”
Butterflies started to fly in her stomach. Oh, she adored him. But that was excessive.
“No! You—You didn’t have to!”
“Yes, I did and that’s all I shall say.”
“Taehyung!”
“Lia!”
“So you can have a trifecta of water lilies! They say good things come in threes.”
“Well, I know only one of you, so. . . I doubt that.”
He laughed.
“But seriously. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
“And seriously, don’t do it again. Please. I love the gifts, but you don’t have t—.”
“No can do.”
This Taehyung.
“So,” he changed the topic. “What’s new? How are things going there? How’s school? How’s the café?”
“Well, the café. . .”
Lia did have news about the café.
“Did you know there was a whole compound behind the wall at the back of the garden? It used to be a single house, but it was divided at some point.”
“Really?”
“Yes! You’d think there was only the garden and the small part that is the café.”
“So the garden was a courtyard of sorts?”
“Yes! Point is, they’re rehabilitating that other section.”
“They are?”
She hummed.
“Is the café doing that well?”
“So it seems.”
“Well. You know, it's actually no wonder that it’s prospering.”
“How come?”
“It must be because of you. You made the business flourish with your magic spell that allures customers into your enchanted lair of jazz and hazy afternoons.”
She giggled.
“Why a lair, though? If it’s enchanted it cannot be a lair!”
“If it is enchanted it is precisely a lair!”
“But it is not evil!”
“Well. True. Okay. Yes. A haven, it is.”
“Anyways,” Lia chuckled. “How is the trip treating you?”
“Good. A little tiring. But good. I want it to be over already, though.”
“So bad?”
“No! Not bad! Just… I can’t wait to see you.”
“Me too.”
She heard him sigh.
“So,” she tried to divert the conversation.
“So?”
“What are you doing right now? Or were. Before I called you.”
“Besides from stressing over the sign?”
Lia tittered.
“Yes.”
“We were on set. Filming. Well, are. Currently on break. What about you?”
“I was painting. Well, I was actually on break too.”
“Wait,” he gasped across the line, “you were painting?”
“Yes! I’ve been painting all morning.”
She wouldn’t tell him she stopped painting because she was distracted by thoughts of him, though.
“I didn’t think you… painted. Which is dumb. Of course you paint. You love paint. You teach arts. How could you not.”
She was giggling. Again.
“What were you painting?”
Shit.
“Sunflowers.”
She heard him go quiet on his side. She almost could feel him smile.
“Does that have anything to do with me?”
Of course.
“Maybe.”
He let out a titter. So soft Lia almost didn’t catch it through the call.
“First water lilies and now sunflowers. If flowers only remind me of you hereon in, it shall be your own fault, sir.”
“As I said, I’ll gladly take that.”
She could hear his smugness.
“What do you think about carnations, by the way?”
“I love carnations.”
“Noted,” he spoke gravely.
Lia smiled for herself. How would she ever get used to him?
“So. . . going back to water lilies.”
“Yes?”
“If you hadn’t specified it was the sign. . . I mean, I decided to text you by chance and by chance saw the post. That was what confirmed my suspicion.”
“Well, I thought that maybe you would get it right away because it was obvious since the gift was wrapped in water lilies and maybe you remembered that,” he started speaking faster. “But when I started preparing the second post I started thinking what if it is not that obvious, because it had been ten minutes since I posted it and I was getting nervous that you hadn’t caught it and—.”
He stopped for air.
Lia was smitten. At how he’d started over explaining himself, rushedly and excitedly and agitatedly. How he was tripping over his words and how he sounded nervous somehow.
He resumed his frantic narration.
“And then I saw you liked it, which made my heart jump out of my chest, like, Jimin has been laughing at me since I squealed because you lik—yeah, anyways, you liked it, which meant you were currently on your phone, but you hadn’t told me anything, so I started to think, what if you hadn’t caught it—but anyways, that meant you were currently on your phone, which was the perfect time to make sure you saw it, so I decided to write the caption just in case, because what if you hadn’t caught that it was the sign, and apparently it did work because then you were call—.”
“If you were here, this is where I would shut you up with a kiss.”
She felt brave, okay.
He went silent.
“And since we’re at it. I was not laughing at you, I was laughing because of you. Of joy. You made my day.”
She heard a very soft little giggle on the other side of the line. Then, both remained silent. She could picture him smiling. She hoped he could picture her grinning too.
Then he broke the silence, with a whisper.
A very soft whisper, like a rustle of lily pads over the water.
“I love you.”
Her heart fluttered straight into the pond.
A sudden disturbance cut through his side of the call, taking her out of the moment. She heard the voices of her bandmates yelling and guffawing.
“Is that Lia? LIAAAAAAA.”
Was that Jimin?
“Shhhh, go away.”
“LIAAAAAAAAAAA,” someone else yelled.
“DID HE TELL YOU HOW HE’S BEEN MOPING AND HAS NOT SHUT UP ABOUT YOU ALL THIS TRI—.”
Taehyung yelped, telling them off.
She was sure he heard her name screamed out loud again, and a whole lot of teasing which only grew louder.
If she wasn’t still slightly shocked about his whispered words, perhaps she’d be more embarrassed.
“Ahhh, I’m sorry. I have to go, they—”
“LIAAAAAAAAA.”
She giggled.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“Okay.”
“Take care.”
“You too.”
“And thank you.”
“Of course.”
“Okay. Bye.”
“Bye.”
“BYEEEEEEE,” another person yelled.
“Okay, bye.”
He cut the call.
Lia was left in a pond full of ripples, caressing the soft fabric with a dumb smile, the soft “I love you” turning around and around inside her mind like fish below the surface.
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Masterlist
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All chapters: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7 — Chapter 8 — Chapter 9 — Chapter 10 — Chapter 11 — Chapter 12 — Chapter 13 — Chapter 14 — Chapter 15 — Chapter 16 — Chapter 17 — Chapter 18 — Chapter 19 — Chapter 20 — Chapter 21 — Chapter 22 — Chapter 23 — Chapter 24 — Chapter 25 — Chapter 26 — Chapter 27 — Update on Part 2 — Part 2 Preview
#v#v fanfic#v fluff#v x ofc#v x oc#taehyung#taehyung fanfic#taehyung fluff#taehyung x ofc#taehyung x oc#bts fanfic#bts fluff#bts x ofc#bts jazz#bts slow burn#bts idol au#bts coffee shop au#idol au#coffee shop au
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Min yoongi’s stare.
It’s so versatile!!!! Like one minute he could be giving you the cutest softest “I’m so in love with you” eyes and the next he looks like he’s going to devour you whole!!
And he uses eye contact to his advantage too. Whether that be when you two are having a hard conversation or doing something else…
#min yoongi#yoongi#suga#boyfriend yoongi#min yoongi x reader#suga fanfic#suga fluff#suga x reader#suga x y/n#suga x you#yoongi x y/n#yoongi smut#yoongi x reader#suga smut#bts suga#yoongi fluff#yoongi x you#min yoongi smut#sigh#also happy belated to him ofc!!!
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Dilf!Jungkook handcuffs you
thirst drabbles (4/∞)
fandom » bts
pairing » jungkook x f!reader
rating » 18+ (minors dni!)
genre » smut, established relationship.
word count » ~ 500
warnings » profanity, dom!jk, sub!reader, dilf!jk, use of handcuffs, marking, breeding kink, size kink (?), dirty talking, unprotected sex, creampie, lmk if i missed anything!
The rattle of the handcuffs around your wrists gets louder with each of Jungkook’s thrusts. Head thrown back and eyes snapped shut, you feel your back arching and breasts jiggling as the pleasure builds; his cock steadily pounding into you.
Lord, he knows how to fuck you.
“Ju–jungkook!” A purr of satisfaction rumbles in your throat, his length brushing all those sensitive spots deep inside your core. You can feel his smirk against your neck before he messily bites down on the velvety flesh. His tongue darts out to soothe the burning skin immediately after. You moan, squeezing his girth with your inner walls appreciatively.
“You love it when I fill this needy little cunt, don’t you? Such a naughty girl.” Jungkook trails hot, open-mouthed kisses up your neck and reaches for your earlobe, nibbling on it. You can only whine in response. His grip on your thighs tightens, hips angling to plunge even deeper inside your slippery warmth. A loud cry escapes you when the bulbous tip of his cock nudges your cervix. You writhe under him helplessly with your hands cuffed above your head, craving your release like a moth craves a flame.
“Look at you, oh fuck! Taking my cock like a good girl and begging me with those teary eyes.” Jungkook lets out a growl, muffling your incoherent words with a deep, passionate kiss.
The sound of your moans and his groans, paired up with the consistent slapping of skin bounces off of the walls of your shared bedroom. It makes you flustered, and you feel yourself clenching around him.
“I’m– um, gonna come! Please, harder…” You choke out with difficulty, eyes closing shut when his thumb finds your swollen clit, rubbing it in tight circles.
“Oh yeah? You’re gonna come all around my cock?” Jungkook mutters, his voice hoarse from lust. Capturing your mouth in an all-consuming kiss, he increases his pace, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in. The slick of your core runs down your thighs in the process, making him curse.
“What if I bred your little womb again, hm? Got you pregnant with another lil’ sunshine?”
“I– I’m–” you stumble over your words, drooping eyelids barely managing to catch his fond yet hungry gaze watching your body convulse under him.
“Jungkook!”
Orgasm blazes through your whole system, and for a moment, you’re blinded by white light clouding your vision. Jungkook holds you close, as if you might shatter any moment if he doesn’t. Your gummy walls pulsate around his cock repetitively, triggering his own release.
“Fuck baby! Fuck!” He curses, his head falling to rest on your shoulder as the thick ropes of his cum fill you up generously, an approving mewl leaving your throat.
˗ˏˋ꒰ 💌 author’s notes ꒱
thank you so much for reading hehe!! i really hope you enjoyed it 🥺! consider leaving a reblog or a comment to let me know what you think of this!! feedback through asks will be appreciated too! support your local writers, y’all. things are not looking good at the moment 🙁
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#🪄; things i’ve written#♨️; thirst drabbles!#bts#jungkook#bts smut#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#kpop smut#bts x reader#jungkook imagine#bts imagines#bts scenarios#jungkook scenarios#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#goddamn HE... 😵💫#i will always have the jk brainrot#this is a repost from my old blog btw!#edited and enhanced ofc ofc
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Just in case, i'm still here x)
#i see your messages and i'll answer them i promise!#the thing is at first i took a break from everything for a few days (and ofc the boys went to the military on these days exactly!)#then i tried to use my new laptop and i don't like it#i don't like how the colors look on it (evn tho they were calibrated) so i can't make gifs from it#so maybe i'll sell it and try to buy a proper pc#and also my cat didn't feel well these days#as usually last week of vacation and i am literally a hamster in a wheel nothing new x)#but in the meantime i finished bv3#and as much as i liked it the scene with jin who was left alone in the bar brought back some painful memories i was literally shaking#so this season gave me mixed and bittersweet feelings in general (at least they gave me yoonjin date)#but now i'm catching up on run bts and i just finished the blue village and it was even more fun than i expected#but both parts of golden bell are my favorites for now😁#hope y'all are doing better than me💖 i miss you guys
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Seven Times I Hated Kim Seokjin: Ch 7
Chapter 7: “끝나지 않은 우리 얘기”
Chapters : 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05(M) | 06(M) | 07
MASTERLIST
Summary: I was living a perfectly, normal, mundane life.... So why in the HELL did Kim Seokjin walk into it and ruin it all for me???
Pairing: Idol!Jin x Female Reader
Rating: M (story contains explicit sexual scenes)
STATUS: Complete!
SPECIAL NOTE: Sending good thoughts and positive vibes to the real Mr. Kim Seokjin. 🥰
And a big hug to whoever is needing it today.
_____________________
"How does it look?" he asked, keeping his eyes fully on me.
It was so strange to see him like this. He had just come back from getting his buzzcut. In these five years together, I had never seen the shape of his head so clearly. If I was being honest, it looked a little egg-shaped. I had the immediate knee-jerk reaction to laugh as I imagined his head becoming an egg. I pushed down the laughter and reached out to touch his hair, hoping it would distract him and he wouldn't catch the smile that was threatening to come out. "It's different," I said.
It worked. His eyes followed my hand. "Feels different." He rubbed his head, rubbing his palm against his newly shaved head.
"Good different or bad different?" I asked, mimicking his moves. His hair felt almost like a bristle brush.
"Not sure," he mumbled. "Does it look good or bad?" he asked, pressing, as his eyes fell on my face again.
I smiled at him and took another step towards him. "You would look good bald," I said genuinely. I reached up, took hold of his face, and gave him a kiss full on the lips.
He grinned down at me, his arms coming around my waist and pulling me close. "As long as you like it, I can live with it."
I giggled as he brushed his nose against mine. "I like everything about you."
His top teeth came into full view as his smile turned wider. And once again, for the trillionth time, I feel myself melting into him.
"Seokjinssi," came a voice behind us.
We quickly separated and turned towards the door, which was where the voice had come from.
A staff member gave her apologies but announced that they were ready for him. We were at HYBE headquarters due to a few things Jin had to record. Thankfully, it wasn't going to be too many hours they needed him. He was only going to shoot for a little while and then we would be off to dinner with his family. He was set to have some time with the guys this weekend as well. There would be some time left for us privately, but it wouldn't be until later.
Seokjin thanked the staff and informed her he would be on his way in a bit. As soon as she left, he turned to me and took my hand into his. "I think Maya might be in the building."
I nodded. "She is. I messaged her earlier. I'm going to go see her right now."
With a last peck on the lips, we both went out ways. He headed left to film for work and I headed right toward Maya's studio.
Maya was an American artist and talented songwriter. She had known the guys for years and had helped co-write several of their songs. A few years ago, she moved to Korea to become a freelance songwriter for HYBE. Her stay here only helped strengthen her friendship with the group. I, too, had become quite close to her because of this and now considered her a friend. Whenever I came to visit Jin now at headquarters, I wasn't as bored as often since I had Maya to help keep me company.
After entering Maya's studio, I took a seat on her love couch as she tidied up and saved her work.
"So, how are you doing?" she asked after allowing herself to relax on the chair across from me.
Maya was the type of friend who genuinely cared for others. And not just on a superficial level or physical sense, but mental health-wise. She often checked in on the guys to see how their stress level was and was very vocal to voice her concerns when she thought they were taking too much. From what Seokjin and the guys said, Maya was almost like an older, protective sister. When I first met her, she had been kind and warm. Over the years, we became friends. But this last year, we had gotten especially close, which I was grateful for. During the last part of this year, I had gone through a rough patch due to Jin's ongoing military postponement. Seokjin and I had worked through it, but on days that I was too upset to speak to him, I turned to Maya for a shoulder.
I knew I couldn't lie to her when she asked how I was doing. "I'm trying not to think too much about it," I said honestly. "I'm literally taking it one day at a time. I wake up, check Seokjinie's schedule and build around that. When it's time to go to sleep, I focus on being in the moment with him and not think about the next day."
"That's good," Maya said with a small smile. "Has Jin been the same?"
I crack a smile and roll my eyes a little, scoffing a bit. "That's his attitude regardless. He doesn't like looking too far into the future."
Maya gave a slight nod, agreeing with me.
I chuckled for a little, thinking of how Seokjin could be a bit immature sometimes now that he didn't have a lot of work on his plate. He mostly did nothing during his time off. It never bothered me; quite the opposite, I found it endearing when I saw him enjoying his free time. For so many years, he had worked almost every single day without having more than one day off. Seeing him relax and stress about an AI on a video console warmed my heart.
But he was days away from no longer living in that world. Soon, he would be having long days that would not only be physically exhausting but mentally take a toll on him. He would be sleep deprived and his nutritious foods would be taken away. Suddenly, dozens of concerns began to fill my head. Usually, Seokjin was next to me and I was able to force myself from allowing my thoughts to become too dark. But he wasn't here....
"Unnie," a voice called to me, full of concern.
I took a breath, caught myself, and forced myself to calm down. After a couple of seconds, I turned to Maya and gave her a small smile. "I'm ok."
But she didn't look convinced. Slowly, she made her way over to me. "You sure?"
I nodded but didn't think I had the strength enough to further talk.
Maya analyzed me, trying to figure out how to best handle the situation. Thankfully, she read my mind and decided to keep me occupied with frivolous things, such as a couple of dramas we were watching. Eventually, I forgot about what awaited me in a few days.
*******
We were both up quite early that day. Neither of us had been able to sleep much.
I tried not to think of it. Tried to ignore the fact that for the next year or so, our time was going to be very short. Tried to ignore the fact that in the next 540 days, we would be lucky if we got to spend 70 days together. Only 10% of the next 18 months, I would be able to see him. Hear him. Feel him.
Laying together on the bed, my head stayed on his chest, breathing in his scent and trying to hold onto that memory. I was going to have to make sure I didn't wash any of his clothes all week. Hell, I didn't even want to wash the sheets. The next time I would see him, he wouldn't smell the same. It would be different. He wouldn't smell like he did now--like home.
Throughout the night, I felt Seokjin's nose press up against my hair, taking a deep breath. Seemed as if he was trying to do the same with me. He was trying to capture my smell and keep it in his memory.
I wanted to talk to him; make sure none of our time was wasted. Since we were both awake, I was confused as to why neither of us talked. It took a long moment to accept that holding each other was enough. No words really needed to be said. Our embrace was enough.
We didn't pay the alarm much mind. We turned it off and got ready in almost silence, speaking a few words to one another.
And as we made our way out of our home, I checked the clock in the entrance hall, making sure we were good on time.
Most of the day had a low energy, despite Seokjin doing his best to crack jokes every time he could. We laughed, of course, but still felt the heaviness weigh in on us.
When it was time to head out, only a few of us accompanied him. He wanted to keep it small and intimate. We respected that.
I took notice of how he never left my side. As he spoke to his parents, brother, friends, and members, he ensured I stayed close. There were a couple of times he noticed I wasn't following him, but he quickly caught on to it. He turned around and took hold of my hand, pouting at me. It was one of the few times that I actually cracked a smile. His genuine pouts were always endearing.
I did stay mostly at his side. The only time I didn't was when I noticed his mother. Feeling he needed privacy with his family, I pulled away. He reached for me, but I brushed away his hand, gesturing to his mother. By the saddened look on her face, she looked close to losing it. I imagined she wanted at least one tiny moment alone with her sons and husband.
Thankfully, Seokjin took the prompt and caught on to his mother's needs. He went to her.
I stepped back and joined the others. We all stayed still as we allowed Seokjin and his family a few moments.
Minutes later, the Kim family pulled apart, Jin then making his way to the rest of us. Keeping things light and happy, Seokjin did a perfect job of making sure everyone was at ease. He goofed around and prevented the atmosphere from becoming too gloomy.
Sadly, the final call was made. My stomach began to churn.
Seokjin went to everyone and gave his last goodbyes.
Maya was the next to bid him farewell. The pair exchanged a few words, Seokjin whispering in her ear so only she could hear. I heard her tell him something along the lines of "I'll look after her." She gave him a nod and a kind smile.
"Thank you, Mai-Mai," he told her and she pulled away. He didn't call her that too often, only when he was being sentimental.
Next was Namjoon. He and Seokjin spent a good amount of time together. Namjoon had always been a guy very much in touch with his feelings. He had been crying off and on the entire morning. Right now, his face was still a little flushed but he was controlling himself. Then, right before they backed away from each other, Seokjin whispered something in Namjoon's ear.
Namjoon's face turned serious. Namjoon looked intently into Seokjin's eyes and gave him an assured nod. "Consider it done. No problem."
They shook hands and Seokjin held tightly to his leader's hand. "Promise me."
Another confident nod from Namjoon. "I promise, hyung."
Seokjin seemed to be satisfied with Namjoon's response and he finally let go.
I was the last one for him to say his goodbyes to.
Thankfully, I noticed our friends and his family making a kind of circle around us, blocking anyone from looking at us too closely.
He bent over so only I could hear him. "Please look after yourself, gongjunim. Eat well, go to bed at a decent time, and drink plenty of water." He continued to list other things, but I wasn't listening. I was too busy trying to contain my tears from spilling. There was a heaviness in my chest and it was getting a little harder to take in breaths.
I did my best to focus on his eyes, allowing him to ground me.
"Will you promise me that, gongjunim?" he asked, his voice tender with a slight quiver.
It was at that moment that I noticed he was getting emotional as well. Tears were beginning to form in his eyes.
I nodded and reached out, taking his hand in mine. "I love you, jagiya," I said, putting my entire heart into the words.
He leaned in, his lips brushing mine lightly. "I love you."
Taking a breath, we pulled apart. He squeezed my hand one last time and gave everyone one last wave as he took steps back.
He walked off and sent me a sweet and courageous smile. His eyes were red, puffy, and watery, but he kept the tears in.
I waved back at him, giving him the same smile back and also containing my tears.
A hand wrapped around mine and took hold. I wasn't sure who it was, but I imagined it might have been Maya. We all stood there until he left our view.
Surprisingly, I still kept it together.
*******
I did ok the rest of the day. Maya, my sister, and my cousin stayed with me that night, keeping me company. Maya brought a nice bottle of wine to keep our spirits up. We spoke a little about Jin, but mostly they did their best to keep my brain occupied.
The next day, I made sure to stay well over my time at work.
My cousin and sister met me for a late dinner, prolonging the long night that lied ahead of me.
As much as I wanted to go home and have his scent embrace every part of me, I feared the break down. A few tears had been shed since the day before, but they had been manageable. I still felt in control.
Finally, a little after 1AM, I couldn't procrastinate anymore. We all had work the next day and in good conscience, I couldn't keep my sister and cousin up for so long.
Reaching our front door, I took a breath, bracing myself for the emotions I was sure were going to take over.
As I walked down the entrance and entered the empty living room, his scent was instant and hit me like a truck. I inhaled him, feeling his essence run through my lungs and enter every cell in me.
My stomach clenched and something squeezed at my throat.
I took my breaths, calming myself.
After several moments, my body felt more in control. The emotions were still there, but I managed to keep them from overtaking me. Turning to the clock, I noticed it had been about 36 hours since I last had contact with him. I looked down at my phone out of habit. Opening it, I automatically opened my messages and then my email.
Nothing. 36 hours and nothing.
It was rare when he went over 30 hours without contact. But since we had been together, he never went over 48 hours. I wondered how tomorrow would be like.
I placed down my things and made my way over to the wine. I needed it tonight. If I went to bed sober, I was sure I was going to be in pieces.
*******
I left my phone at my desk and did my best not to log into any of my personal emails while I was at work the next morning. I didn't want the temptation of checking to see if he would miraculously message me. I knew it was impossible and illogical to allow my imagination to go there. Despite the small amount of sleep, I left to work extremely early. Thankfully, I had plenty of things to work on to keep me occupied.
I was doing great. I kept myself from thinking of him almost all morning.
However, sometime in the late morning, I started to feel a bit off. It hit me so suddenly; the stomach cramps, the queasiness, the push against my chest. I had never felt this sick.
My coworkers were quick to notice my change and insisted I go home. I guess I looked bad enough that they even called me a cab and pushed me out of the office.
I managed to get home on time. Hurrying to the restroom, I was grateful my team had forced me to come home. It took a while for me to finally feel it was safe enough to get back on my feet. Getting to the kitchen, I poured myself some water and started the kettle. Out of nowhere, I could hear Jin's voice. He was insisting I make myself some tea. I had promised him I would look after myself, yet here I was not eating like I said I would. Consuming only alcohol and coffee. I had been careless.
Even though I had no appetite to eat, especially after everything that occurred in the restroom, I forced myself to order some soup. Nothing too heavy, just light and nutritious. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and sleep for the next ten hours, but it wouldn't be smart for me to do so.
I ate most of the soup and tea. When I was finished, I left them in the sink and told myself I would wash them later.
Selecting the last t-shirt he had worn, I put it on and crawled under the sheets. Rather than sleep on my side of the bed, I wiggled over to his. The warmth was gone, but his aroma was still all over the pillow. Instinctively, I pressed my nose over it and inhaled, allowing his scent to fill my lungs.
Then, without warning, without the smallest sign, the emotions within me took over. My body curled itself into a fetal position as I clutched onto the pillow. My tears came down as my heart ripped into pieces. My nose pressed against the shirt I had on me. And at breathing him in again, I felt my soul rip.
I needed him. I needed him here. With me. This wasn't like the times he was off traveling where I could at least message him and would get a response at least a day later. This wasn't like the times he was working himself close to exhaustion but had his members there to check on him. No one he knew was there to ensure he was ok. No one I knew could check he was eating right and taking his supplements. And I had no one's number to check. On my phone, there were at least four numbers saved for his managers and assistants. On rare occasions, I used them when I became too worried for Seokjin. But now I had no one's. I was in the dark.
The sounds coming out of me were so foreign to me. I had never heard myself this way. But I knew it was only giving audio of how my heart was feeling.
I'm not sure how long I was in bed like that, but eventually, my volume went down.
And that's when I heard it. Someone was at my door.
My body acted without my brain needing to control it. It got up on its own and made its way to the door. Before opening it up, I made sure to check who was on the other side. Seeing who it was, I immediately opened the door. Worry immediately took over.
What were they doing here? It must be bad.
Standing in the hall were six pairs of brown eyes looking at me. All of which contained worried looks as they stared at me.
“Maya called your work and they told her you would be here,” Namjoon said, looking at me worriedly.
“We’ve been calling and messaging you all day, noona,” Taehyung said with a look that mirrored Namjoon.
Something hit me at seeing them all here.
"Ah, noona," Jimin said sadly and then took a step forward to take me in his arms.
The moment my head reached his shoulder, I noticed the rest of the guys stepping forward.
One by one, they each wrapped me into their embrace, soothing words coming out of them.
I must have looked like a mess if they were this concerned about me. Other than Jimin and Taehyung, the rest of the guys rarely hugged me.
Then, something caught my eye. I turned and faced the clock. I noticed the time.
It had been 47 hours and 53 minutes since I had last spoken to Seokjin.
Recognizing this, I felt myself come undone all over again. I cried into every one of their shoulders, my sobs becoming erratic as I felt them cry along with me.
Fuck. I hated him.
Hated him for never allowing me to ever really hate him.
---------------------------
MASTERLIST
Chapters : 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05(M) | 06(M) | 07
AN: I think writing this story was my way of coping. My logical, reasonable mind is completely aware that Jin (and the rest of the guys) going into the military is normal. Dozens of other idols have done this; Jin is no different. When the news was released about a month ago, I was sad but my brain took over and settled me down. Now that the day is finally here, I'm all into my damn emotions. Logic be damned. It sucks.
I adore this man. He's a complete stranger, but it's pretty incredible the impact he's had on me.
Ok, enough talk about feels. Thank you to everyone who has given this story a chance. I wanted to keep it short and simple in honor of Kim Seokjin. Hope you enjoyed it. Please like or comment!🥰
All the best to Mr. Kim Seokjin who I actually have nothing but love for. There is ZERO hate for that man. 💜💗💜💗💜💗💜💗💜
#Seven Times I Hated Kim Seokjin#bts fanfic#bts#fluff and smut#secret relationship#idol!kim seokjin#jin fic#jin x ofc#jin x reader#kim namjoon#min yoongi#jung hoseok#park jimjn#kim taehyung#jeon jungkook#unnie#jin x unnie#relationship#lovelife#Spotify
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Namseok X dom Yoongi
smut
Namjoon and Hoseok are both subs but they make it work. They’re at least lucky that Namjoon is a service top and Hoseok is the happiest when he’s getting fucked but.
Hoseok gets off on praise, he wants to be told how good he’s taking it, how pretty he looks, how he was made to be fucked. And Namjoon always tries to give him that because he wants nothing but to please, but he knows that his whiny, stuttered nonsense isn’t really doing it for Hoseok.
Namjoon himself wants to be degraded, wants to be laughed at for losing the ability to speak the moment he sticks his dick into something, but his sweet, sweet boyfriend Hobi isn’t capable of that.
Their sex life is good but not good enough and they both know it even if they don’t talk about it, because they’re afraid it would ruin everything and they love each other too much.
Hoseok is the one to finally do something because Namjoon wouldn't. He wants to, he thinks about it and jerks off to his ideas, but he would never act on them. Anyway, he doesn’t need to, because Hosek does it. Hoseok pays for a video chat session with an online dom Yoongi and it’s hot.
it’s hotter than Namjoon expected it to be, to have a third person there, watching them fuck and telling them what to do. Yoongi tells Namjoon, "Can you really fuck him the way he needs? Look at you, you can’t even speak," and in the next breath he’s praising Hoseok.
"So pretty, baby, just lay back and take it. That's what you need, isn’t it? What do you think, is Namjoon good enough?" and Hoseok can barely answer, nodding frantically as he pulls Namjoon into a kiss, hungry and more desperate than ever before.
Yoongi orders them to cum at the same time and then praises both of them, guides them through the aftercare and neither of them says it, but they both feel the silence and emptiness when Yoongi ends the call.
At first, Namjoon and Hoseok agreed that they would only pay for Yoongi on special occasions, like birthdays or anniversaries, but just after the first session they both know they need more.
Once a month quickly turns into once a week and then they think about Yoongi even when they fuck without him, drive each other crazy talking about what he would tell them to do, how hot his voice sounds, fantasizing about what the dom would do if he was actually there with them. Which inevitably leads to a discussion about how they love each other very much but they also want Yoongi a lot.
Dom Yoongi breaks his own rule about never getting seriously involved with a client for them and much more excitedly than he expected climbs into their bed.
He fucks Hoseok while Namjoon preps him for his cock and then lays on his back, makes Hoseok ride him and makes Namjoon fuck him into his boyfriend. He tells Namjoon how he’s fucking Hoseok better than he ever could, pulls Hoseok down to kiss him while Namjoon pants into his neck, both of them whining so, so pretty for him.
Hoseok cums first with Yoongi following right after, finally turning his praise on Namjoon too, telling him how good he was for the both of them, that it’s alright, that he can cum now.
Namjoon and Hoseok are both completely boneless afterwards while Yoongi takes care of them, cleans them up and makes sure they’re alright. He lingers by the bed when he’s done, unsure if he should stay but unwilling to leave and Namjoon and Hoseok solve that for him by pulling him between them.
Yoongi finds himself often coming back, often “forgetting” to send the check, often staying until the morning. He finds himself catching feelings. And when he panics and tries to put some distance between them to protect his heart, he finds Namjoon and Hoseok pulling him back in and asking him to stay.
#bit#smut#bts smut#namgiseok#namjoon x yoongi x hoseok#bts fic#dom yoongi#sub namjoon#sub hoseok#namgiseok smut#and ofc yoongi would be a sweetheart outside of the bedroom#the most caring boyfriend ever#just wants to provide for his boyfriends#lowkey a sugar daddy#namseok repay him in kisses#namjoon smut#hoseok smut#yoongi smut
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Interview With a Writer
So I have been doing a lot of HotD stories (specifically Aemond and Aegon) but have since ventured out more in the Ewan universe? With that said, here is part 7 of my Interview With a Writer series with the amazing @assortedseaglass, delving into World on Fire and the cunt we love, Tom Bennett. 💜 As always, thank you for taking the time and allowing this series to continue!
You can look over the masterlist for this series and see the other amazing authors I have spoken with. This is just a BTS of some of the talented minds on Tumblr and ao3. 💜
Name: assortedseaglass
Story: The Seamstress & The Sailor
Paring: Tom Bennett x OFC
Rating/Warning: World on Fire spoilers, language, era typical sexism and ablism, sexual assault, war and injury detail, smut.
So, when did you start writing?
I started writing as a kid, I always had a really vivid imagination. I used to make little books and write plays! Then, when I was 13, I had a really good English teacher that encouraged my writing and reading. He said to me once, “if you can do it, why not reach for the stars?” And that confidence in me meant so much, and I apply it a lot to my life now.
He left school and without that encouragement my writing turned more to keeping journals and diaries, but then I took a chance and did master’s in creative non-fiction and, I’m exposing myself here, now I write professionally! But on a completely different subject and form!
Where did the idea for The Seamstress & The Sailor come from?
Tom Bennett had been rattling around in my head for a while, so I knew I wanted to write a story about him.
I’d also recently rewatched a series called Lilies which is about three sisters in Liverpool in the aftermath of the First World War. I loved their dynamic and suddenly how I could write Tom’s story came into view. Added to that, I am from a large Irish family (a bit like the Vaughns), and my maternal family is only a few miles from Longsight where World on Fire is set. Suddenly, lots slotted into place!
What inspired your character creation Bess Vaughn?
When I have a story idea, the characters always come first. I knew early on that I needed someone to challenge Tom, and that had to be someone special because he’s such hard work! I thought a lot about what would make Tom angry, what would entice him, and who would be a good foil. That all boiled down to Bess.
To flesh her out, I took inspiration from my grandmothers. My maternal grandmother was a seamstress who lived near Longsight, and my paternal grandmother made ammunitions in a factory (the job I gave to Bess’ sisters). Their photos are at the end of some of the chapters and I’m endlessly proud that they’re part of my history!
Can you expand on how Bess complements Tom (oh-so well)?
My take on Tom is that he was a confident child, and took this confidence and started to act out after his mother died. He says what he thinks and doesn’t worry about the consequences. War wakes him up to is faults.
Bess, on the other hand, was not confident as a child, and only grew in confidence as an adult. She became sure of her place, whereas Tom started to question it. She rarely speaks her mind, only when she feels it is needed. War wakes her up to her strengths.
In that way they are different, but the have common ground too. Both are incredibly loyal, lost their mothers young and have things to prove. Tom, that’s he’s not just a petty criminal with no direction, Bess that she is worthy of a place despite her difference to her peers. Both of them also want to prove that there is more to the working class than what society expects of them.
I think those core elements that are similar, but the small differences that challenge each other, make them an ideal fit.
Do you have a favorite chapter or moment in this story?
Chapter Nine was my favourite to write, I think.
There will be spoilers here, but having them finally get together was blissful to write. Their slow tiptoeing around their feelings, the heady mix of the dance and the war, I think it made for a satisfying moment when they do admit their want each other.
I also enjoyed having that happen halfway through the first part of this story; so many stories end at that point, and I love reading those, but I wanted more turbulence for Bess and Tom. Relationships are complicated, let alone relationships during wartime.
I also loved writing the Vaughn sisters, each with their own dynamic. Motherly and stern Cora, quiet and confident Bess, giddy and girlish Dot. The letters between Tom and Bess were fun, to really get into their heads and imagine how they would put their thoughts onto paper.
But I have to mention, I adored writing the little moments between Douglas and Bess. They are incredibly similar in character; quiet, certain of themselves and they love Tom so, so much. Bess has that awkward little moment with him because of that similarity, and because he is like Tom.
Also, as we have mentioned many a time between us that HELLO, SEAN BEAN!
Photo source.
Writing any scenes that were already in World on Fire were hard, trying to work my own characters into the narrative and getting inside Tom's head. Ewan Mitchell is such a good actor that we can see what is happening in his character's minds, but putting that to writing is hard because those feelings are complex.
Was there another character in your story you enjoyed writing?
Dot and Queenie were an absolute hoot to write!
Dot is a little childish and judgmental, but so sweet and full of life. So different to her sisters and for that reason I loved writing her making these little comments that made Cora tut or Bess roll her eyes. I loved, too, that she helps keep Fergal happy. While Cora and Bess try to keep him afloat practically, which is important (bringing in extra money and cooking meals) Dot makes his heart sing just by being her silly little self.
Where Tom needed a foil, so did Bess, and that was Queenie. She is loud and gobby and flaunts her femininity in the opposite way to Bess and I think that makes Bess struggle. She also represents a link between Bess’ difficult childhood, with Queenie courting one of Bess’ bullies (Frank), and her adulthood; Bess is judgmental and while Queenie can be difficult, she doesn’t really do anything wrong. That moment when Tom tells Bess to give Queenie a break is a turning point for her – Bess is used to having the moral high ground over Tom and with that comment in his letter he challenges her thinking. I have a real soft spot for Queenie, but I’d hate to spend time with her though!
Is there another story you are working on? Perhaps a sequel?
Other than working through my first ever requests, my main WIP is Borne & Bound, which is an AemondxOFC story.
Mr Darcy-coded Aemond, plenty of Helaena (which my parents almost called me!), and a bright woman from a minor house. She is going to be quite different from Ida and Bess, less introspective. As always, I’m putting in a lot of research to make my characters seem like real people, and I can’t wait to share it. I’m just working out the next few chapters because I’ve hit a minor block with where it’ll go. But the first chapter will be coming soon!
There’ll also be more of Bess and Tom once I’ve watched Word on Fire series two…I am SO EXCITED about new Tom content. Whether he dies or not, him on screen is a blessing!
Do you have a personal favorite story you'd like to share?
That's You Were Always With Me by @myfandomprompts
Fire and Sapphire by morrisette_sabbath (on ao3) I just finished the latest update and avidly waiting for more!
#interview with a writer#iwaw7#bts#of their brilliant writing#world on fire fanfiction#tom bennett fanfiction#tom bennett x ofc
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BangtanWritersHQ Presents: "Cherry Blossom Romance…Or Not" Masterlist
The crisp fresh air and sweet floral breeze on this beautiful spring day fills your nostrils. Relaxing under the freshly budding cherry blossom tree reading one of your favorite fictions are the days you’ve longed for during the cold winter months.
Immersing yourself in a book, you begin losing yourself in a scene unfolding with passion, you glance up and see him: fresh undercut, full pink lips, jawline of a Greek God, sun-kissed skin, dressed to impress from head to toe—and he appears to be heading straight for you!
Setting your book to the side, you rise to your feet—this is the Y/N moment you’ve always dreamt about! Your heart pounds fiercely as he approaches, his smile brighter than fifty suns.
His hand reaches toward your face and you can’t believe this is about to happen—your first kiss. You close your eyes and let the spring sun warm your skin as you pucker your lips in anticipation.
“Got it!” he exclaims delightfully.
You open your eyes only to notice he removed a petal from your hair. Excitement becomes disappointment, disappointment becomes sadness, and sadness becomes eternal longing once again.
Romance can be as beautiful as the blossoming cherry blossom tree or as gloomy as the rainiest Spring Day. We can feel our hearts flutter lightly as a butterfly's wings or feel lonely like the single bud of a blooming Iris. For the month of April, we wanted to not just focus on the beauty but also on the possibility of sadness when the cherry blossom blooms.
KEY:
🔞 - nsfw (mature themes)
✅ - sfw (no warnings)
💖 - smut
⚠️ - other warnings
SET UP - emojis: Title (if link is to another platform) | Author [parts] pairings, genre/aus, rating, word count
🔞⚠️ She's Like The Wind | @roxyjean82btsoneshots [1/1]
Pairing: Namjoon x OFC
AU Type: Unrequited Love, Rained In | angst, cheating ex, drinking
Rating: R
WC: 2,811
All stories copywritten of the specified author. The authors provided consent for their stories to the network to be shared by submitting their stories. Stories posted in the order of submission to the event.
#BWHQ#BWHQ Writing Event#BWHQ Writing Events#BWHQ Network#bangtanwhq#bangtan writers hq#bangtan writers hq network#bts imagines#bts#bts reactions#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts scenarios#bts x reader#bts smut#bts au#bts angst#bts fluff#namjoon x ofc#namjoon fanfic
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Silver Moon Ch. 18
Fandom: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Relationship: Jeon Jungkook/OC
words: 5704
Language: English
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Past trauma, orphaned main character, violence, slow burn but the smut will hit hard, corny hybrid tropes, masturbation, explicit sexual language, mutual pining, messy, crying, descriptions of blood and injury, oral sex, light choking sort of, touch starved, knotting, (I will probably add to this list as I write)
Category: M/F
taglist: @likeshatteredrainbowglass, @aznstoner, @zae007live, @namecannotbblank
Author: Weichei Stubentiger
Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37537594/chapters/93691681
Summary: Hybrids are hardly the biggest part of Alina’s life. In fact, she tries her best to ignore anything hybrid-related. She is content to study for her entrance exam to grad school and try to live as innocuously as possible. But the events of her past will come back to haunt her when she becomes indebted to a hybrid named Jungkook. Their lives have become inextricably intertwined, but will they be able to trust each other? Will they be able to stand with each other in order to survive? Will they be able to stand each other at all?
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Materlist
Chapter Notes: shoutout to @crinwyn for encouraging me and giving this a quick beta read!
Chapter 18
Jimin: Is anyone free for New Year's Eve? Kristi’s having a party at her place. All of you guys are invited
Tae: Yeah I’m free!
Jin: Me and Yoongi are having some old university friends over, sorry :( wish we could make it
JK: I don’t have any plans
Jimin: Jungkook, make sure Alina and the girls know they’re invited too.
JK: Will do.
*****
Jungkook made a b-line for the couch as soon as a spot opened up. He was getting tired of talking to people he didn’t know. Music and conversation thrummed throughout the house, creating a constant distracting buzz. He looked around, turning his phone over in his hands. Jimin was busy talking to some of Kristi’s friends, and he wasn’t sure where Tea and Mina went.
He wished Alina was here. She was supposed to get off work thirty minutes ago, so it probably wouldn’t be much longer before she showed up.
Maybe he should make sure she got off the train safely. The sun had set hours ago and she wouldn’t be familiar with the neighborhood. Yeah, he should probably call her. Jungkook sat up, looking for a quieter place to make a call. Maybe he should go outside for a second —
“Hey, you know Alina, right?” a girl with brown hair and a bright smile asked from his right.
“Uh yeah,” he said. The mention of Alina’s name took Jungkook by surprise, as did the girl’s sudden appearance, but he recognized her as one of Kristi’s friends.
“Wow I can’t believe this!” the girl said, her smile widening. “She and I went to the same university. I was talking to Kristi when she mentioned Alina had a hybrid now.”
Jungkook wasn’t sure what to say, so he only nodded passively.
The girl, unphased, took a seat next to him on the couch. “I’m Mia by the way.”
“Jungkook,” he replied, sitting back. “So you and Alina are friends from college?”
“Yeah we had a few courses together,” Mia said, readjusting her position on the couch. She was sitting too close to him, but the whole room was crowded with people, and there wasn’t much Jungkook could do. He didn’t want to be rude, especially if this was one of Alina’s friends, so he stayed put.
Mia didn’t exactly give him the opportunity to excuse himself, either, as she effortlessly directed the conversation toward other things, mostly her job. Jungkook gathered that it was something about marketing.
“So does Alina let you do anything for work?” Mia asked, recapturing Jungkook’s waning attention.
Bah. ’Let’ him work. This girl clearly didn’t know Alina very well. “I’m a trainer,” Jungkook said, checking the clock on his phone again. Where was Alina? He needed to get away so he could check on her. “I work at the same place as Jimin.”
“Oh! That’s really cool. You do kind of have a gym rat vibe,” she said, laughing as she put a hand on his arm.
Jungkook looked at her hand before quickly tugging his arm away. “What are you doing?”
Kristi looked nonplussed, scooting closer to him. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not —“
“Are you afraid of her seeing you or something?” Kristi interrupted. “We can go to one of the rooms upstairs.”
Jungkook was lost for words, suddenly quite worried that Alina would see and get the wrong idea.
Mia sighed impatiently. “God, is she that strict with you?”
“It’s not because I’m her hybrid,” Jungkook spat out in disbelief, getting off the couch.
“Well you don’t have to be fucking rude about it,” Mia said indignantly.
He was being rude? She was the one making a move on her friend’s boyfriend.
Jungkook paused. Maybe she didn’t know he was with Alina. Mia clearly wasn’t used to rejection, but Jungkook hadn’t meant to insult her. His ears warmed with embarrassment. “Sorry I didn’t mean — I’m with Alina. That’s why I’m not interested.”
“Oh.”
“So…I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m just not interested.”
“Is that why she registered you? To date you?”
“What? No,” Jungkook replied, irritated and confused by the question.
She must have noticed because her brows rose. “Sorry…I just never imagined Alina would register a hybrid. I don’t get why she did it,” Mia said as if it cleared anything up.
“She helped me out. It wasn’t like she was looking for a hybrid to register.”
“Well yeah…that’s what I’m surprised about. That she’d help you out.”
Anger flared inside him. “Then you don’t know her.”
Mia scoffed, getting up. “Do you? Maybe now she wants a nice cute hybrid to help her work through her trauma. But when I knew her, she didn’t want anything to do with them.”
Jungkook stopped. He was appalled by how she was talking about Alina, but what she made no sense. Trauma?
“What are you talking about?”
Mia searched his face for a moment. “What do you mean?”
Jungkook didn’t say anything, waiting for an answer.
“Has she seriously not told you about the whole dead family thing?”
Jungkook stared at her, alarmed and more confused than before. “I know her parents died when she was young.”
Mia let out a disbelieving laugh. “Wow. That’s really fucked up,” she said flippantly. “A bunch of her family members were killed in some sort of hybrid attack like a decade ago.”
*****
Alina burrowed deeper into her hood and checked her phone for the 10th time. Where was the damn train? Bitter January air seeped into the subway station, chilling the tile walls. It felt like she was standing in an ice box. She should have told her boss she wasn’t working on New Year’s eve; this wasn’t worth the hassle.
A few other people stood on the platform, mostly couples and groups of friends, all clearly celebrating the holiday. As impatient and cold as she felt, the sight made Alina smile to herself. She was excited to see Jungkook, which was dumb, given that she’d seen him earlier that morning, but she couldn’t help how she felt. Maybe they could leave Kristi’s New Year’s party a little early.
She brought her hand up to her necklace, playing with the chain and pendant. No, she needed to make an effort to be less antisocial. And besides, Jungkook was probably having fun.
She looked around the station, trying to occupy herself with people-watching instead of mooning over Jungkook. There was another platform on the other side of the tracks, but it wasn’t nearly as busy. An older couple sat on a bench together and a man stood about 10 feet away from them, speaking into his phone.
No one seemed particularly bothered by the late train. Alina pushed her gloved hands further into her coat. How were they not freezing?
She really needed to buy her own car. There was a used car lot not too far away…maybe they’d have some post-Christmas car deals.
She pursed her lips. Who was she kidding? She was trying to buy a car, not candy after Halloween. She knew it was going to be hard to find something safe that was also in her price range.
At least she was lucky enough to live in a city that had public transit. She sighed, letting her attention roam back to the platform opposite her. The couple was standing now, probably anticipating their train. The man stood in the same spot as before, but his hands were in the pockets of his black peacoat. As her eyes drifted over the man, Alina was startled when their gazes met. He was looking at her.
She blinked, looking away. Something about his eyes unsettled her.
She checked the time again. 23:07. Her train would be here soon, Alina promised herself. She looked at the dingy concrete floor without really seeing it. After a few moments, she gave into temptation and glanced back at the stranger. He was still watching her.
Alina’s heart began to pound. There were plenty of people around; the guy was probably spaced out. There was no reason to be freaked out.
Her body, however, didn’t seem to be interested in logic, because she could feel her skin break out in a cold sweat. She gripped her phone in her hand.
A gust of wind rustled her hair, and the station rumbled with muted reverberation.
Alina let out a breath. Good, the train was coming. She didn’t have to embarrass herself by calling one of her friends. Even better, the man was on a different platform, so there was no danger of him getting on the same train.
Soon enough, the face of the train engine hurtled into the station, blocking the man from view.
Alina boarded as soon as the train cars came to a stop, falling into an empty seat. She’d never felt so grateful to be inside a cramped metal box. Twisting in her seat, she peered out of the car window. Her stomach turned as she once again made eye contact with the stranger. The train slowly rolled away from the platform, but Alina remained frozen, watching the man disappear from view.
Alina’s shoulders sagged as she rested back into her seat. She looked at the hard plastic seats opposite her, allowing her breath to even out.
She felt silly for getting so frightened, but she still felt uneasy. Maybe she should tell Jungkook or Yoongi about the man. It would probably make her look paranoid, but the more she thought about it, the more worried she became. She had something to protect now, not just Jungkook, but his whole pack. And they had reason to stay on high alert for this kind of thing.
Maybe someone was investigating her early attempts at finding someone to remove Jungkook’s collar. Alina pursed her lips. She should have been more careful, but she’d been desperate. She racked her brain, trying to retrace her movements and interactions during that time.
She was so lost in thought she almost missed her stop. The train had slowed, finally coming to a jolting halt at a well-lit station. Alina exited quickly, flinching at the cold air. Kristi’s house was only a five-minute walk away, and Alina tried to use that time to clear her head. The neighborhood was nice. Trees lined the well-lit street, and most of the houses sported well-maintained Christmas decorations.
Alina recognized Kristi’s address and ascended the front steps. She could already hear music and voices.
The house was hot and noisy inside, and Alina was quickly stripping off her heavy coat. She didn’t recognize anyone. Jimin, Mina, and Tae were all supposed to be here, as well as Jungkook. She walked through the crowded living room, still feeling a bit on edge, and made her way to the kitchen.
Nope. She didn’t know anyone in here either. She got out her phone and opened their group chat.
Alina: Just made it to the house. Where is everybody?
She watched her phone for a moment, waiting for a reply.
“Hey, you want something to drink?” Alina looked up. A man with light blond hair was looking at her, clearly expecting her to answer.
“Um,” Alina hesitated. She wasn’t planning on drinking that night, but maybe they had something else. ‘Sure. They have soda or anything.”
“I’m not sure,” the man responded, already handing her a beer.
“Oh…” Alina decided it wasn’t worth protesting, so she accepted the beer and held it in her hand as she took another look around.
“I don’t think we’ve ever met. Do you know Kristi?”
“A little,” Alina said, giving a distracted smile. “A friend of a friend I guess.”
“Ah. Who’s your friend then?”
“Jimin. They’ve only known each other for a little while, though.”
“Oh! The hybrid?”
“Yeah —” Alina stopped mid-sentence when she spied Jungkook. He was emerging from what looked to be the basement. Her excitement quickly faded when she realized how dazed he looked. “Hey I’m sorry, I just saw the person I’m here to meet,” Alina said, trying to extract herself from the conversation as quickly and politely as possible.
“Alight, see you around…” He sounded a bit annoyed by her departure, but Alina wasn’t paying much attention at this point.
She hurried over to Jungkook, calling out his name. He looked startled when he noticed her, and his ears remained flat against his head.
“Jungkook?” Alina repeated as she neared him, her worry increasing. His face was pale, and he looked at her like he’d seen a ghost. She moved closer, bringing her hand up to his cheek. “Hey, are you okay?”
“We need to leave.” His voice didn’t sound right at all.
“Right now?”
Jungkook only nodded before taking her arm and leading into the living room towards the front door. Alina scrambled to put her coat on, a difficult task as Jungkook was practically dragging her along behind him.
The cold night air hit her already tender face, and Alina had to squint her eyes to keep them from tearing up. Once they made it off the porch, Jungkook let go of her arm but continued walking at a brisk pace away from the house. Alina hurried to pull on the rest of her coat, rushing to follow him.
“Jungkook.” Nothing. “Jungkook!” she tried again. Nothing. She grabbed his hand, pulling him to a stop. “Jungkook you’re scaring me.”
He still didn’t look at her, staring at the street ahead of him, mouth set in a firm line. He wasn’t wearing his coat, Alina realized. He must have left it at the house. She felt overwhelmed with worry and confusion. “Jungkook, please. What’s wrong.”
“What happened to your family?”
Her body stilled.
When she didn’t immediately answer, Jungkook whipped his head towards her, finally meeting her gaze.
“I —” she stuttered.
“Some girl said your family was killed in — in an attack.” He stepped toward her, and Alina instinctively took a step back. It wasn’t because she was afraid of him, but a wretched part of her was still trying to escape what he was asking her to reveal. “Please just — please tell me that’s not true.”
She could hear the desperation in his voice, but there was nothing she could do. She couldn’t lie to him, not like this. She shouldn’t have lied in the first place. She swallowed. “I can’t.”
Jungkook’s face crumbled, and he turned away from her, pacing towards the curb. He looked…horrified. The dread in Alina’s stomach worsened.
“Did you know? Did you know who I was this whole time?”
Alina’s eyes stung with tears. “Yes…yes, but Jungkook — please,” God she hated how tearful her voice was. She was only going to make him hate her more. “I didn’t - I didn’t mean for things to happen like they did.”
“Were you just never going to tell me?” Jungkook shouted, making Alina flinch.
“I didn’t know how! And….” Alina swallowed. “And when I realized you didn’t recognize me at the hospital…I told myself that maybe I was wrong. By the time you told me your real name…it only got harder.”
He was disgusted with her, Alina knew that. He was staring into the street’s gutter, shaking his head.
“Is this why you were trying to get rid of me?”
Get rid of him? Alina’s frown deepened with confusion. “You mean when I was trying to find someone else to register you?” She hated herself for it now, but she’d only been trying to find a better life for him. “I thought you would rather be somewhere, especially if I told you who I was. And then, when you wanted to stay…when I wanted you to stay…I was too afraid to tell you."
He shook his head again. Alina didn’t know if it was because he didn’t believe her or if he simply didn’t like what she was saying. He stepped into the street and sat on the edge of the curb, letting his head fall to his hands.
“Jungkook,” Alina said, unable to stand uselessly away from him any longer. She dropped down next to him, but she didn’t dare touch him, no matter how much she wanted to. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so so sorry Jungkook.”
He looked up at her incredulously. “You’re sorry?”
Her heart was already breaking, but his words crushed her. He would never forgive her. “Jungkook — ”
“No. Stop.” He got up, running his hand through his hair. He was looking everywhere but at her. “I need to…I need to think.”
“Okay,” Alina said, getting up as well, wiping furiously at her eyes. “We can go home. I’ll — I can spend the night in Courtney’s room.”
“No.”
She looked at him. “No?”
“You go home. I’m… I need to be on my own.”
Alina stared at him. It was late and well below freezing. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know,” he said, turning away.
“Jungkook please —” Alina began, taking his arm.
Jungkook whirled around. “I can’t do this right now!”
Alina stood, arm going limp at her side. Small puffs of breath escaped Jungkook’s mouth, fogging slightly in the frigid air between them. His eyes were wild, and his cheeks were pink. She wanted to reach out for him again.
No. What she wanted was for him to hold her. She wanted him to tell her everything was ok. That he understood. That what she’d done was forgivable. But it wasn’t. And it was nauseatingly selfish of her to imagine him comforting her.
Finally, he turned away from her once again. Alina watched his back as he walked away from her. Her tears fell freely, and she held her breath so as not to sob. Even as Jungkook rounded a corner and disappeared from sight, Alina stayed where she was.
After a few agonizing minutes, she walked numbly back to the curb and let herself cry.
*****
Jimin threw back the rest of his drink, half listening to Kristi’s friend tell a story about his study abroad. There were a lot more people here than he anticipated, but it wasn’t a bad time. He wasn’t sure where all of his own friends went. Jungkook had slipped away to the living room and Mina and Tae had disappeared ages ago.
He smirked. Those two thought they were being so sly. Jimin wasn’t sure if anyone else had figured them out. Probably Yoongi. Either way, Jimin would keep his nose out of it. For now.
He felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Putting down his empty glass on a side table, Jimin dug his phone out of his pocket and checked the caller ID.
Jungkookie 🦕
Why was Jungkook calling him? Did he manage to get lost inside Kristi’s place?
“Jungkook! Where’d you go?”
“Jimin I need you to go make sure Alina gets home okay.”
Jimin sobered quickly at Jungkook’s tone, covering his other ear and walking away from the group of people. “Jungkook? Are you okay? Where are you guys?”
“We were about a block away. Alina won’t have gone far.”
“Are you not with her?” Jimin said, grabbing his coat and heading for the door.
“I need you to go get her and walk her home.”
“Jungkook. Tell me what happened right now.”
“She —” Jungkook’s voice broke. “Jimin…I can’t talk about it right now. I’m — Please just make sure she gets home.”
“Jungkook —“ the line went dead before Jimin could finish. “Fuck” he muttered, shoving his arms into his coat. Did they have an argument? What could be so bad that Jungkook wouldn’t tell him?
“Jimin!” It was Kristi. How did she always manage to have such bad timing? “Where are you going?”
“Hey sorry, something’s going on with Jungkook and I’ve got to go help him.” As he spoke, he spied Tae over Kristi’s shoulder and gestured for him to come over.
Kristi pouted. “Are you gonna be back before midnight?”
“I’m not sure. I’m sorry to leave early, but something’s going on with him and Alina.”
“All right, that’s fine I guess.”
“I’ll call you,” Jimin said. Ugh, not his best line but it would have to do for now. Tae was close enough to hear him so he called, “hey, grab your coat.”
Tae came up beside them. “What’s going on?”
“Something’s up with Jungkook and Alina. We need to go find them.”
“Are they ok?”
“I'm not sure.”
“I’ll grab Mina.’
The three of them hastily exited the townhouse, Jimin leading the way. Mina had her phone to her ear trying to reach Alina.
“She’s not picking up. What the hell happened?” She asked, redialing.
“I don’t know. Jungkook sounded really distressed on the phone.”
“How are we supposed to find her?” Tae asked
“He said they were on their way home. She shouldn’t be far.”
Luckily they didn’t have to worry long. They rounded the corner towards the girls’ apartment, and to their collective relief, they saw Alina’s form. She was sitting on the curb, hands around her knees.
They all rushed forward. She didn’t look good. It must have been a fight. A bad one. Jimin truly couldn’t imagine over what.
Once they were close enough, Jimin dropped down to Alina's side, Mina on her other. She looked even worse than Jimin thought. Her eyes were red and puffy, but her face was frighteningly blank.
“Alina what happened,” Mina asked, clearly thinking the same thing as Jimin. This had to be bad.
“He knows,” Alina said, voice quiet and strained.
“Knows what?” Tae asked as he crouched down next to Mina.
Alina didn’t answer. A sob tore from her chest, and she collapsed against Mina. Jimin was still at a loss, and he wondered if Mina knew what she was talking about.
“Maybe we should get you home first,” Jimin offered, looking at Tae and Mina.
“I don’t know where he went,” Alina said as she tried to control her crying. “But h-he doesn’t have a coat, and he must be really upset.”
“He’ll be ok Alina. It’s not that cold for us,” Jimin tried to reassure her. “But he asked us to make sure you got home safe without him.”
Jimin thought she would like to know Jungkook was concerned about her safety, but she only dissolved into more crying.
By the time they got back to the apartment, Alina had quieted significantly. Jimin let Mina and Tae take her to the couch while he retrieved a glass of water for her.
“Alina,” Mina said gently, “can you tell us what happened? Would it be easier if Jimin and Tae left?”
Alina swallowed and looked like she might explain, but then she stopped. “I can’t,” Alina said as if she was only now realizing it herself.
“Why?” Jimin was really starting to worry. Had Jungkook done something? Jimin hated to mistrust his pack-mate, his friend, but he’d never seen Alina so distraught. He watched her closely as he sat down next to her on the couch.
Tae must have been thinking the same thing because he added, “You can tell us — no matter what it is.”
“I can’t,” Alina repeated. “He won’t forgive me if I tell you.”
Mina drew in a frustrated breath. “Alina, if he wanted you to deal with this on your own he wouldn’t have called us. And if he does expect you to isolate yourself when you clearly need support, then you don’t owe him anything at all.” Her tone wasn’t exactly angry, but she was insistent. Jimin’s first instinct was to take a more gentle approach, but Mina was protective and direct by nature, and maybe that was what Alina needed.
“Mina’s right,” Tae supplied.
Alina gazed down into her cup of water. Finally, her resolve seemed to crumble. “I shouldn’t have kept any of it a secret. I lied to him, and to you guys. I’m sorry.”
“What do you mean you lied to us,” Tae asked, drawing away from her slightly. Jimin glanced over at him. Tae was a cautious person, everyone in the pack was, but did he seriously think Alina would be lying about something that would endanger them?
“She didn’t lie,” Mina said staunchly. Ok, Mina definitely knew something he and Tae didn’t.
“I did,” Alina said. “There’s more to it than that, Mina.”
"More to what?” Jimin asked, wanting to keep the conversion on track.
“Jungkook and I know each other. Well…I knew him.”
Now Mina was wearing a confused look as well.
“When I was nine, my family was attacked. I was the only survivor.”
“What do you mean attacked,” Tae asked.
“It was a hybrid attack, just outside the city,” Mina filled in. “But Alina, you don’t owe anyone that story.”
Jimin’s eyes widened. He knew about this. Well, he knew of the attack, not Alina’s involvement, but there was only one thing Alina could be talking about. The hybrid attack from 13 years ago. It should have been national news, but the story was largely covered up. Honestly, Jimin only remembered it because the story had scared one of his early owners, causing the man to return Jimin to the shelter.
Still, Mina was right. As shocked as Jimin was to hear about her past, it didn’t change who Alina was. And it was her business.
“No, you don’t understand. Jungkook — ” Alina cut herself off. Her voice was shaking again. “He was there.”
The room went quiet for a moment.
It was Mina who broke the silence. “What the hell are you talking about,” she asked, shock evident on her face.
“He was one of the hybrids.”
“He attacked you,” Tae asked in disbelief.
“No!” Alina’s answer was forceful. “He wasn’t — he didn’t attack me. He’s the reason I survived,” she took a breath to steady herself. “He was only a kid. I don’t know how he was related to the other hybrids, but he was with them. He…he looked like a few of them. When they broke into the house, they killed everyone. My aunt and I hid at first, but when they found us, they took her too. I was the last one left, and that’s when one of the women made Jungkook come out.
“She told him to kill me. He wouldn’t. So they left without him. Abandoned him. I don’t know why they didn’t kill me, but they didn’t. They just left.”
“And…what about Jungkook,” Tae asked hesitantly.
“I don’t know. I ran to hide as soon as the people let me go. I don’t know when he left or where he went.”
“And you saw him again for the first time in the park six months ago?”
“Yes, but I didn’t realize it was him. It had been so long, and with the mugging and the fight — it was a blur. I only recognized him when saw him in the hospital.” Her fingers twitched. “I saw his hair. I knew it was him. I told myself that it wasn’t, but I knew. He looked the same as he did 13 years ago. Same eyes, same face, same hair. But he didn't recognize me. I know I should have told him. But by the time I was able to face the truth — that it was really him, I was too scared to tell him. I didn’t know how. I thought he wouldn’t want to stay with me anyway. But then he did. And after a while, I convinced myself that it didn’t matter — that it was better left in the past.”
Alina lapsed into silence when she was done. Her face was blotchy and she continued to mindless clasp her cup of water.
Jimin turned away from her and leaned against the back of the couch. He didn’t know what to say.
One thought overwhelmed his mind. “Have you been dealing with all of this on your own?” Her subsequent silence was answer enough.
“Alina,” Jimin said, turning his body towards her, “you’re going to get through this. You and Jungkook are going to get through this. This is…a weird situation, and I know it seems like it’s impossible now — ”
“He can’t even bare to be around me now.”
“He needs time. You both deserve time to process this.” Tae and Mina agreed, but Jimin wasn’t convinced Alina was really hearing their affirmations.
“You guys need to make sure he has a place to stay, all right?” she said.
“For tonight?” Jimin asked. “I’m not sure where he went. I’m sure he just needs to clear his head for a bit.”
“No, I mean if he doesn’t want to stay here anymore.”
“Alina…”Jimin once again found himself looking at Mina and Tae. Alina thought Jungkook was going to abandon her over this, and none of them knew how to help their friends. Jimin hadn’t begun to think about how to help Jungkook through this. Yes, she’d kept this from him, which might not have been the right thing to do…but it was an impossible situation. She deserved sympathy as well.
It was all so complicated, and it didn’t feel like he or Mina or Tae were saying the right things. And frankly, Jungkook needed to be here and tell her he didn’t hate her. He couldn’t possibly hate her for this.
“Ok. This…this is a lot to go through in one night,” Mina said, thankfully taking over. “I truly don’t believe you’ve done anything unforgivable, Alina, and you need to know that. But we don’t know how Jungkook is feeling right now. Maybe we can take the night to cool down. Tomorrow we’ll sit down and figure out what to do. Hopefully, Jungkook will be back by then.”
Alina didn’t protest, and she and Mina left, heading toward the bedrooms.
Tae let out a breath. “This is messy.”
“Yeah,” Jimin said, rubbing his face.
“Jungkook can’t be that angry with her, right? I mean…he chose not to tell her who he was, too.”
Jimin hummed. That was a good point. Jungkook may not have recognized Alina, but he still chose to keep his past to himself. That was his right, and Jimin didn’t blame him for wanting distance from that event. They’d need to wait until Jungkook came back to straighten things out.
*****
Alina's face felt wet and hot against her pillow. Her eyes were swollen and achy from all her crying. She sniffled, feeling ashamed at her own misery. This was all her fault. She had no right to cry.
If he never wanted to see her again, she had no choice but to accept that. The clarity of the thought made her curl in on herself, bringing her hands up to her face. A part of her had always hoped that if her secret got out, Jungkook would understand. She’d hoped that who she was now mattered more than the history they had together, that their relationship meant enough to him that he could forgive her lies. But Alina knew that wasn’t fair, and it didn’t matter anyway. He’d left her. He’d looked at her like he didn’t know her, like he was horrified by her.
He wasn’t hers. He never had been. It was time to calm down and face reality. She owed Jungkook that much. Her mind swirled wither everything that needed to be done. She could only hope Jungkook could fall back on his pack. She would need to sign over his registration to someone else. Jungkook would have to tell her who. Maybe Namjoon? She would need to transfer his bank account to that person as well. All of his stuff…
Fuck. She pressed her hand against her mouth harder. It was pathetic. She didn’t know what she was going to do without him. His things were still here, but already her room felt unbearably lonely. She shifted, looking over at Jungkook’s mattress. He hadn’t been using it at all. Not since he’d started sleeping in her bed.
She wondered where he was now. Was he still walking around the city? It was nearly four in the morning…
He would be fine, she told herself. He’d been fine without her before and he’d be fine now. He’d lived on the streets for most of his life.
Turning over on her back, Alina stared up at the ceiling. What if Jungkook had no intention of coming back at all? What if he decided to run? She didn’t think he would leave his friends, not when they’d done nothing wrong, but she didn’t know. Perhaps he wanted to forget all of it.
Suddenly she couldn’t stand laying in bed any longer. She threw off the blanket and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She needed air.
She made her way out of the apartment, managing to grab a coat on the way out. The biting winter air stole her breath as she exited the building.
Alina paused on the last step. The city was eerily quiet. Aside from the distant sound of traffic, the street was silent.
In an hour the sun would rise, and she’d have to face what had happened. Everything was going to change again.
The sound of the footsteps caught Alina’s attention. She looked up, wiping at her face and trying to locate the source of the noise. Someone was walking in her direction, although they were still around 30 feet away.
He was wearing a black peacoat.
A decade’s worth of paranoia consumed her body. She spun towards the door, blood pounding in her ears.
She didn’t have a chance.
The man was on her before she could reach her keys. She tried to scream, but his hand was already around her mouth. His strength was inhuman, and no amount of kicking or scratching or fighting made a difference. Not that she had much time to fight. Hot tires screeched against the cold pavement of the street.
A car. They were going to take her. Alina tried to shout around the man’s hand to no avail. An old black sedan came to a stop in front of her building, the back door swung open, and the man shoved Alina inside.
#jeon jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook x oc#jungkook x you#jungkook x y/n#jungkook fanfic#hybrid jungkook#hybrid!jungkook#bts hybrid au#hybrid fic#bts hybrid fanfic#Silver Moon#Weichei Stubentiger#bts#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook x ofc#hybrid!jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook fanfiction
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sometimes people are like wow lhk is so weird! he’s so strange! a total alien who doesn’t know how to human! he looks so weird and unsettling! and the dude in question is just sitting there
#i think there's one person who also reposts kk stuff and their tag (tags?) for him are about how weird he is which. is not my business ofc#but i swear sometimes people are finding new 'reasons' to exclaim about how creepy and weird he is and its just. head tilt#he does have a history of saying confusing things but that's just his sense of humor and the 'mouth faster than the brain' setting that#i feel hasn't been as active lately (perhaps because his more current stuff isn't as popular and translated as cql bts lol)#and maybe i'm just overreacting! but man i am Not a fan of the way how for the last x years fandom has been very into pointing at a random#Anything about a character/person and going ISN'T THAT SUPER STRANGE AND NOT NORMAL??? WHO DOES THAT!!! LOL!!#you can play detective and try to figure out why! but i feel like it's rather obvious. and i've been... 🤨-ing the fandom with increasing#intensity For A While Now but it doesn't show any signs of stopping. OHWELL.JPEG#shrimp thoughts
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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈 | 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐁 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐔
pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader
genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s
word count: 14K
beta read by @chaoticpuff17 (ily)
masterlist
summary: You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?
warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, emotional distress, teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, jk is selfish af, jk is delulu, oral (fem receiving), forced oral (m receiving) spanking, squirting, cum swallowing, creampie, yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, choking, rough sex, pussy pounding, bruises, manipulation, gaslighting, strong language, oppressiveness
disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.
author's note: so as I said in the preview, this did not go as planned but I really enjoyed writing this to the point that I might do a part 2, perhaps 3, but we'll see about that. JK is delulu af here and the reader does not think through everything. For those who did not read preview and came upon this just now - originally what i wanted to build around was how Rachel Green from Friends was offered a job at Louis Vuitton but it was in Paris and Ross did not want her to go - that was supposed to be the whole plot (with slight changes ofc), well and somehow it went a bit darker than i intended so instead of rom-com, i'd rather listed it as dark romance and yandere. Hope you'll enjoy it! Love, always.
1996
“He said what now?!” The sentence burst out of you with a high-pitched tone, nearly causing your latte to spill all over your pristine white blouse and grey blazer. Not exactly the ideal way to kick off a new month, you mused as your friend dropped the bombshell about a certain someone.
“That you’re the future mother of his children,” said your friend, an amused smirk playing on her face. “I seriously don’t know how you can still resist him, girl.” But resist him, you did.
Jeon Jungkook was undoubtedly one of the most sought-after and sexiest heartthrobs of the decade, possessed the best face card in the industry and carried the biggest ego in all of New York City. You could vividly recall the day he strolled inside of your office with the head of your department. A cocky, playful grin plastered on his face the moment his eyes landed on you.
Right from the very beginning, you made it crystal clear to Jungkook that your relationship would be strictly professional during your collaboration on the Calvin Klein project. He was given his own collection of men’s wear, and the job to work with him fell upon you.
You knew that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you to elevate your standing within the fashion circle. Jeon Jungkook’s fame was immense, and your name would be signed on the collection too. It’s not like you are head over heels that your name would be associated specifically with Jeon Jungkook, but you understood right away that this could put you on the radar. Your boss had even hinted at the possibility of a higher position within the department.
He constantly teased you, flirted shamelessly, and crossed boundaries by touching you as if you were his girlfriend. It was wildly inappropriate, especially given that the two of you had never even gone out for a work dinner or lunch alone. There were always other people from the team, and yet he always managed to find a way to sit right next to you. But it seems Jungkook was still living in an illusion where you were his girlfriend.
Your gaze shifted to the majestic Twin Towers, standing proudly in the distance, as you let out an annoyed puff of air.
“He’s ridiculous,” you finally declared.
“Or cute,” countered your friend, opposing your viewpoint. She found this pseudo-relationship with Jungkook amusing, but a small part of her secretly wished you’d just give in and go out with him. It was quite some time since you were in a relationship, and Jeon Jungkook would definitely be a nice catch. You were not interested. Or you tried to persuade others that you aren’t.
“No, ridiculous,” you retorted again, lips pursed, and brows furrowed.
“Oh, come on, give him a chance finally!!” she exclaimed.
“Absolutely not! He’s egoistic, manipulative, a cocky little bastard with damn good hair,” you said, your tone rising as you reached your final proclamation, which had simply slipped out of your mind that way.
“See? One good thing — good hair. Marry him,” she laughed it off.
“Now you’re being ridiculous, and I’m going to be late for work.” You said while dusting your black skirt, grabbing your purse, and leaving a few bucks for the coffee. The song on the radio stopped your departure for a moment, listening to the familiar voice coming from it, you rolled your eyes.
“That’s a clear sign, Y/N. Give it a chance!” she called after you, and you couldn’t help but throw a side eye her way, though a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips nonetheless.
As the day passed, you found yourself increasingly entangled in the whirlwind of meetings, fittings, and photoshoots with an ever-present Jungkook. The photoshoots, in particular, became a source of both frustration and amusement. However today, a bigger problem surfaced.
“Why’s he half-naked, Lucy?!” You hissed at your assistant. Normally, you are very kind and respectful to everyone, but Jungkook had managed to irk you the moment you stepped into your office, finding him already seated in your chair with that smirk you despised. Bringing a coffee for you, which you never drink, or donuts that you always share with the department - not eating one yourself.
Jungkook, adorned in the latest Calvin Klein designs you two had meticulously crafted together, claimed a personal touch of his persona— at least, that’s how he described it. He looked effortlessly handsome, the camera adoring him, but what grated on your nerves was that his attention was solely focused on teasing you.
“We also have shirts, why is he not wearing one?!” You continued, expressing your disagreement to what was before you. What angered you even more was that you could not stop staring at his abs.
“We shot with shirts earlier. They said the underwear and jeans will appear more artistic if his V line and abs—”
“Alright! Alright!” You stopped her in mid-sentence. You didn’t want to look that way nor you didn’t want to admit that showcasing his V-line would enhance the aesthetics of the jeans. Therefore, you took a deep breath and walked towards the refreshments, you were in need of a second cup of coffee.
You heard the photographer call for a break, but you were focused on calming yourself with a steaming cup of coffee. Despite your irritation, you couldn’t deny that he looked breath-taking in the outfits you had designed, and it infuriated you.
Suddenly, two arms were laid flat on the table’s surface, caging you in between. You could imagine his devilish grin. He did this way too often, whether it was his fingers lightly tracing your arm or tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, looking intently into your eyes until you were fighting yourself to not get lost in his Bambi eyes.
“We’re almost done for today,” he whispered seductively into your right ear, his lips almost touching it. Your breath stammered.
“And yet you did not learn a single thing about professionalism or work ethic.” You bit sarcastically, turning slowly to face him.
Jungkook’s grin only widened at your remark, and you couldn’t decide whether you were infuriated or slightly flustered by his audacity. He leaned in even closer, his breath grazing your ear as he spoke in a low, husky tone.
“Tutor me then, in bedroom — preferably” he suggested, his lips still dangerously close to the shell of your ear.
“I don’t think so. You’re beyond help,” you shot back, trying to assert control over the situation. His proximity was distracting, and you couldn’t afford to let him undermine the fact that you were in charge.
Jungkook continued to hover over you, the photographer calling for everyone to regroup for the next set of shots. You seized the opportunity to escape his magnetic pull, smoothly slipping out from between the table and his arms, deciding to escape to your humble office, seeking solace in the calmness it provided.
It wasn’t long before the shoot officially ended, and you knew damn well, that the man wouldn’t leave you alone. The door creaked open, and you turned to find Jungkook leaning against the frame, that infernal smirk still etched onto his face.
“We did a good job, why don’t we celebrate it over at my place, baby?” he complimented, but there was an undertone of something else in his voice. You overlooked his physique and leaned back in your chair, narrowing your eyes, making a clicking sound with your tongue.
“Jungkook, again, this was a professional collaboration. Nothing more,” you asserted, emphasising each word. If you did not say this sentence at least a hundred times you don’t know. He never takes it seriously; it appears as he is still trying to hammer his way into your guarded heart.
He pushed himself off the doorframe and sauntered closer. “We’ll see about that,” he said, leaving you with a cryptic grin as he exited your office. The only thing you could do is sigh.
Before you went to continue working, you heard how Jungkook’s voice echoed from the hallway.
“I bet I can change your mind, sweetheart!”
You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath.
“Not a chance.”
The denim collection with Jungkook was taking shape, and the buzz surrounding the collaboration grew with each passing day. A success, your boss was much more than pleased.
This success, however, meant even more for you. You were on cloud nine, basking in the glory of your hard work and the prospect of a ground-breaking partnership. Totally, forgetting to play unreachable when it came to the clinging boy who starred in this iconic collaboration. And that must have given him a false hope, perhaps a narrative in which you were his girl.
You were sitting in your office when you hung up the telephone after speaking with the vice president of Guess that contacted you earlier last week, offering you a part in a project for their brand, in Los Angeles. A dream come true for you. Leaving this place, after years of building your career from scratch, felt overwhelming. You loved working under Klein, yet it was time for you to take it higher. Your boss did not offer you a new position, and therefore, you did not hesitate to take the job opportunity and elevate yourself in fashion ranks.
It was an offer too tempting to resist, and you found yourself diving headfirst into the project, not even looking at the door when someone stepped in without knocking.
“You may leave the reception reports on the table, Lucy,” you said once feeling a presence in your office, not raising your eyesight from your computer, writing the prompts for the project Guess wants you to lead. Your twelve days’ notice already printed out, ready to be signed by your boss. You planned to stop by his office after you would finish writing the draft and sending it to the Guess team together with the copy of your portfolio that you needed to make before you leave.
When there were no reports left on your table after a good long minute, you looked up.
“You can’t just leave.” he said, standing tall in the frame of the door, stepping inside once you finally gave him your attention. You could sense a hint of desperation and anger in his voice.
You raised your brows at him. How does he know? The mere thought of you leaving for LA, leaving him behind, was enough to make him confess the depth of his feelings.
You leaned to the leather armchair and listened to him closely.
“What are you talking about Jungkook?” His eyes betrayed a mix of anxiety and vulnerability as he blurted out his fears.
“What about us? What about everything we’ve built together?” He stepped closer to your desk, looking directly to your eyes. You were taken aback by the raw emotion in his words. The air in the room thickened.
The once-confident man now stood vulnerable before you, stripped of the bravado that had defined him. And you were utterly confused and surprised how delusional this man is.
“What are you even saying, Jungkook?” you questioned, your tone a mix of confusion and frustration.
“You can’t leave me!” He raised his voice an octave higher.
“Calm your tits. I’m a grown-up woman. I can do what I want.” You sassed back at him, tired of this made up situation-ship in his head. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.
“We’ve built something special, and I can’t watch it crumble because of some job offer!” He continued his rampage. You took a moment to breathe his words in, closing your eyes and counting to ten to calm yourself.
“Jungkook, I appreciate your honesty, but I can’t give you what you’re asking for.” This caught him by surprise. Instead of screaming at him, you chose to play the I’ll stay calm and professional card.
His eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of confusion and hurt clouding his features. “What do you mean?”
Choosing your words carefully, you said: “I genuinely value this project we worked on together, but it’s time for us to part our ways.” To fool him was your goal.
Jungkook’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your words settling upon him. “Who are you lying to, Y/N?” His words shocked you.
“I’m not lying Jungkook, I’m telling you the truth to your face, as you were too stubborn to hear it before.” You stood up from your chair, moving to lean on the front of your desk, to show him he cannot get to you.
The room fell into a heavy silence as Jungkook looked deep into your eyes, searching for the truth in your words.
“So, it’s all about the career for you? You’re willing to sacrifice everything else, including us?” Your jaw clenched, but you maintained your composed façade and with flaring nostrils and clenched teeth, you spoke.
“There is no us, Jungkook. Get it into your head already!” So much for being calm. The room crackled with tension as the argument reached an impasse. Jungkook shook his head, a mixture of disbelief and frustration.
“I can’t believe you’re throwing away what we have because of some job.” Your eyes widened even more and the fact he would not listen boiled your blood.
“Do I need to spell it out for you? I’m not your girlfriend! I was never your girlfriend, and I will never be your girlfriend!”
But Jungkook wasn’t ready to accept defeat. His frustration reached a boiling point too, and without warning, he grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you into an intense, angry kiss. It was a clash of emotions, a tumultuous blend of passion and anger that fuelled the fiery exchange.
Your initial instinct was to resist, to push him away, but the intensity of the kiss ignited a different kind of fire within you. His lips moved fiercely against yours, gripping your ass in his hands, making you moan to his lips. Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers threading through the dishevelled locks as the kiss deepened, your frustration causing to tug them. He growled from pleasure at the sensation.
It was a collision of lips and tongues, a heated exchange that spoke volumes without a single word. Once his hands disappeared under your skirt and the heat intensified, a sudden surge of clarity washed over you, breaking the intoxicating spell.
With a forceful push, you broke away from the kiss, creating a space between you and Jungkook. You locked eyes with him, your chest heaving as you struggled to regain control of the situation.
“I need you to leave,” you stated, your voice cutting through the lingering tension, you leaned against the desk, your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment.
Jungkook, still caught in the haze of desire, tried to close the distance again, but you held up a hand, halting his advance.
“Leave!” You growled, turning your back to him. You didn’t want him to see your face anymore, because soon enough, tears would break from your eyes. You’re overwhelmed.
A loud bang of the door signalled that he finally understood and left. Breaking down with tears streaming down your cheeks you gasped for air. Tears blurred your vision as you struggled to regain composure.
You’ve counted to ten again, wiping your tears. You felt taken advantage of. He went too far this time. But this was only the beginning of his tremulous and wicked plan he had for you.
You packed your purse, ready to leave your office, you just needed to grab your work portfolio that you needed to send over to Guess. But the space it always inhabited, on the conference table, was empty. And you had one lucky guess who the thief was. “Fucking bastard.”
In the days that followed, the chaos in your personal and professional life escalated. The stolen portfolio, a representation of your work, became a haunting absence. As if the life source of your hard work was cut down.
Determined to salvage what remained of your career, you began the arduous task of recreating it. But time was not on your side, and as you delved into the meticulous process, news of your termination from Calvin Klein reached you like a punch to the gut.
The phone call was impersonal, a cold voice delivering the news of your dismissal as if reading from a script. Some Jack from the HR department spoke to you, someone you have never ever seen in the building whatsoever. Your boss did not even pick up the call when you wanted to ask what made them push the decision to let you go. You certainly did not deserve this after years of working for the brand. The reasons were vague and you knew this had to source from someone powerful. In simple terms, someone snitched that you’re planning to leave.
As the reality of unemployment settled in, you clung to the remnants of optimism that lingered, but even that proved elusive.
You were hundred percent sure that he is trying to sabotage your whole life when the call from Guess, a reason you did not fight for your position at Klein’s delivered another blow.
Their decision not to collaborate with you crushed the remnants of optimism that clung to your spirit. The dream that had seemed within reach now slipped through your fingers, leaving you in a free fall of uncertainty.
They hadn’t even granted you the courtesy of waiting for your portfolio, even though it wouldn’t be what they expected. Whatever oral agreement had been in place disintegrated. So here you are — jobless.
All this left you reeling with disbelief. The career you had meticulously built, the dreams that had taken years to nurture, all unravelling at the seams. The pain was visceral, a mix of frustration, anger, and a profound sense of betrayal.
You were certain that Jeon Jungkook himself was pulling the strings behind the scenes. And you hated him for it, needed to confront him and say that shit with your chest right to his face— he can go fuck himself. Set the record straight once you’re there.
Whatever he was thinking by ruining your career will force you to do, he better fix it before you’ll sing to the media about his bunny smile and kind heart being all fake. The line had been crossed, and he would face the consequences of pushing you to the brink. Or so you thought it would go how your brain delusional thought it through.
Hence, with a heavy heart and a determination to confront the chaos head-on, you stood before the front door of his infamous penthouse. Emotions swirling within you like a tempest.
With a deep breath, you knocked, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway. The door swung open, revealing Jungkook’s bunny smile reaching his eyes.
“Well, well well, are we ready to talk like adults, pretty?” He mocked this whole situation because he knew this would end up in his favour, nonetheless.
He moved back to let you in, and you stepped into his apartment, a mixture of anger and desperation in your gaze.
“I know you took it,” you said, crossing your arms on your breasts. The heels of your black leather boots echoed in the apartment when you turned to face him.
“Took your breath away by that heated kiss, sexy, certainly. Otherwise, I did not take anything.” Jungkook scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. The tension in the room was palpable as you square your shoulders, refusing to back down. You blinked twice at his cheesiness. The tip of your tongue moved to rest on the bottom of your upper teeth, your smile spreading on your face. The chuckle came out of you so naturally, laughing at his ridiculously ridiculous behaviour.
“Don’t play dumb, I know it was all you. You malicious sabotaging petty boy—” You retorted, articulation perfectly clear while the words laced with underlying frustration and anger.
He sighed, weariness settling over him. “You think I stole your portfolio to sabotage your career? You’re giving me too much credit, love.” Here he comes.
“I said nothing about my portfolio, Jungkook.” You said playing with his name on your tongue. A tense silence hung in the air as he considered your words, clicking his tongue, clearly annoyed and you were just getting started.
“I managed to figure that out. A drink? —” He offered, shrugging her statements of like snow in summer whilst he moved to the small bar that was a part of his spacious living room.
“I don’t want a drink, Jungkook. I want it back now,” you replied, your tone cutting through the casual offer. The anger in your gaze intensified, fuelled by the frustration of dealing with his nonchalant attitude.
“Let’s talk, baby.” He gestured towards the living room, as if trying to usher you into a more comfortable setting for the impending confrontation. He knew this was just a little shower, the real storm was still far away, giving him space to prepare.
As you moved, you could not help but notice the contrast between your demeanour and his. While your arms were still crossed defensively, his posture exuded a calm confidence that irked you further.
You took a seat on the edge of the sofa, not willing to fully settle into the illusion of camaraderie. Jungkook, on the other hand, sprawled onto a nearby chair, the picture of nonchalance.
“I need that portfolio to get a job because a certain someone has to be bitchy and sabotage my whole career because his big ass ego cannot take rejection. Give it to me,” you fired off, your words sharp and accusatory. He leaned back in the chair, smirking.
“Those are very bold words, Y/N. I would prefer to think of it as a wake-up call for you, not sabotage.” Your incredulous glare only intensified.
“Are you fucking serious Jungkook? A wake up call? You’ve just jeopardised everything I’ve worked for, and you’re calling this a wake up call?”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze locked onto yours.
“I can get you a better job.”
You scoffed. The audacity of his response fuelled the simmering anger within you.
“You can’t get a shit, so give it back to me, and I’ll be on my way,” you requested.
Jungkook’s smirk remained, an infuriating mix of arrogance and nonchalance.
“No,” he said, smiling. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, the frustration reaching a boiling point. He leaned back, seemingly unperturbed by your rising anger.
“What do you mean no?!” you shot back, your voice sharp.
“You were about to make a decision that would have consequences beyond your imagination. I had to intervene.”
“What the fuck are you on again?” Jungkook’s gaze remained fixed on you, the intensity of his stare almost unnerving while your voice went an octave higher. Your frustration reached its peak, and you stood up, pacing the room as you ranted. You were breathing heavily, trying to calm yourself.
You needed that portfolio, it was a collection of years of a work and your best work to be specific. The lousy new version won’t get you a job at no high-profile fashion brand and you cannot afford to go lower than your last position.
“Alright—” You said defeated, turning yourself to face him again, you put off your black leather jacket and fixed your low ponytail, slumping back to his sofa. Spreading your arms on the backrest and cross your legs.
Jungkook took a moment to breathe in the sight before him; he was throbbing for you.
“—what do you want?” you asked. He leaned back further into the chair, putting his masculine tattooed arms to rest on the back of his head, showing his abs from under the white tank top he is wearing.
“What do I want?” he mused, as if contemplating the question but he already knew.
“Spill it out.” You barked and he chuckled at your eagerness. He got up from his seat and dangerously slowly walked towards you.
When he reached you, both of his arms pressed to the leather of the sofa inches from you, caging your body. Your breath stammered as you looked at him towering over you, the golden chain around his neck hanging.
“Firstly, I want you to be my good girl, apologise for being a brat the other day and admit there is an “us”. Secondly—” he whispered seductively, closing the approximate distance while doing so. He was right in your face, looking over at your lips evidently, he was controlling himself to not attack them. He invaded your personal space. The sudden shift in atmosphere left you breathless, and you could feel the heat radiating between you.
You squared your shoulders, refusing to succumb to the intoxicating energy he exuded. “I won’t apologise for any shit, now secondly?” You said while trying to hold your horses. You hate to admit your pussy was clenching and leaking under his gaze. He was attractive, and no one could deny that.
His fingers grazed your cheek gently, a teasing touch that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. You swallowed hard, trying to maintain a semblance of composure.
“I want these feisty little plump lips wrapped around my thick cock—” you pushed him away from you once you heard his words. Grabbing your jacket and storming your way out to the door, angry with yourself that you let it go this far.
“You walk out that door, and you’re done in this city, fuck even the whole continent if I want,” Jungkook declared, his tone heavy with a sense of entitlement. The words hung in the air, a threat laced with possessiveness that sent a chill down your spine.
“You’re bluffing.” His eyes darkened, a storm brewing in their depths.
“You’re underestimating the consequences, Y/N. I’ll snap my fingers, and you won’t get a job. Anywhere.” A bitter laugh escaped your lips. You did not believe him one bit, determined to try harder at the job hunting.
“You’ve already done enough. You can’t do worse.” You scoffed, the absurdity of his demands pushing you further away. He stepped closer, the air thick with tension.
“You’re not leaving, Y/N. Either you’ll be my good girl and apologise, or all it will take is one phone call.” As you reached for the doorknob, he grabbed your arm with a force that bordered on aggression.
“I am my own woman, Jungkook.” Your eyes flashed with determination as you wrenched your arm free, emphasising every word of the sentence you just uttered.
With that, you swung the door open and stormed out, leaving Jungkook’s apartment and the tumultuous mess behind. The city lights greeted you outside, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere within.
Your telephone remained eerily silent, devoid of the calls and opportunities that once filled it with promise. Jungkook’s vindictiveness had effectively severed the threads connecting you to your professional life, leaving you adrift in a sea of uncertainties.
A tear escaped your eye as you clutched the piece of paper you fetched out of your mailbox — an eviction notice. You had fallen behind on rent, pleading with your landlord for more time, promising to pay in full for two months once you secured a job. But that ended up not happening, and that’s how you find yourself sitting in a messy apartment full of half packed boxes, no job, little money left, and a bottle of cheap wine.
Moving in with friends or seeking refuge with your parents was not an option. They never supported your dreams enough to provide for you in such dire circumstances, especially at your age. Unmarried, jobless, and on the brink of homelessness, you felt trapped.
Despite your efforts to secure another job, including poorly recreating parts of your portfolio, rejections piled up, and the search for a new apartment proved equally futile. Not like you could afford it anyway.
The city that once held promise now felt like a maze of closed doors and dead ends. The mere thought of dialling his number sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of pride and necessity wrestling within you.
You drank the last of your wine, hiccupped, and cried. With only twenty-four hours to vacate your flat for the new tenant to come in. The friends you once thought you could rely on were facing their own struggles, unable to provide the sanctuary you so desperately needed. You had nowhere to go apart to his clutches if you of course did not want to freeze to death in the bustling city. It confused you how it came to having no other option.
Taking a deep breath, you dialled his number, each ring echoing the surrender of your independence. The telephone rang in your trembling hand. As the call connected, a heavy silence hung in the air and you desperately tried to calm your breathing.
“Jeon speaking,” his voice crackled through the phone. You were shaking in cold sweat, your eyes blood red from crying and alcohol clouded your mind enough to call him.
“Hello?” you heard his voice speak again, and another sob left your lips. The lump in your throat made it difficult to speak, but you pushed through the discomfort.
“I-I’m sorry.” The man on the other line smirked, seemingly thrilled to hear your voice. The next sentence you uttered, however, was even sweeter music to his ears.
“I need you.”
You heard his car park in front of your building the next morning. The boxes were long gone on their way to the heart of Manhattan where Jungkook’s penthouse awaited. It was only you and your suitcase with only necessities packed inside. The reality of the situation hit you as you looked around at the empty apartment. The purple walls, once full of pictures from trips with your friends, were now bare. The fridge stripped of silly magnets you liked to collect, stood empty. Nothing left.
Taking a deep breath, you gripped the handle of your suitcase with a sense of resignation. You glanced out of the window on your way out, finding Jungkook casually leaning against his shiny black Jaguar, smiling directly at you. Closing your eyes, you mentally said goodbye to your small apartment.
Your hair, lazily put into a hair clip when you woke up, had a few stray strands escaping, framing your face that still showed signs of swelling from crying all night.
As you stepped out into the hallway, the door closing behind you, the weight of the suitcase in your hand served as a physical reminder of the choice you had made. Is this really your only option?
The sound of Jungkook’s footsteps echoed in the corridor, approaching closer with each passing second. He ran up the stairs just as you were locking the door. His gummy smile met your gaze, a clear expression of his happiness. The heartthrob had finally gotten you where he wanted you all along.
He was dressed in a denim jacket and jeans from the collection you worked on. As if he was intent on reminding you of something. His long curly locks were gone, replaced by a short mullet.
You, on the other hand, did not feel to dress classy and elegant as you usually did. You swapped heels for a pair of white sneakers, a tight designer skirt for simple blue boyfriend jeans and your upper body was covered by a white shirt layered with a pink shirt you loosely tight on your waist, leaving the buttons half open.
“Baby?” he called out. You must’ve zoned out, as now he was holding your suitcase in his hand, ready to leave.
“M’sorry, I was in my head,” you apologised. You didn’t want to upset him by negatively reacting to the pet name even though you irked to tell him you’re not his baby.
He smiled softly, putting the suitcase down, walking over to you. He caressed your cheek, leaning in for a kiss. Turning your face, he landed his lips on your other cheek. The man chuckled and put the freed strands of your hair behind your ear. “Don’t worry. I got you now.”
The drive to Jungkook’s penthouse was filled with an uncomfortable silence as the city lights passed by in a dizzying display.
“Welcome home!” The words hung in the air, the irony not lost on you. This was far from a home; it was a gilded cage you succumbed to. You did not answer him. You couldn’t bring yourself to do so.
He was saying something about a closet, but your mind totally spaced out looking at the boxes that you packed hours prior, casually sitting in his living room.
“Baby?” You looked at him, eyes wide when you realised you were not listening to him again.
“Do you want to start unpacking or should we head out for brunch first?” He approached you. Jungkook did not stop smiling since he pulled his car in front of your building.
Unpacking felt like an acceptance of this new reality, while brunch felt like an attempt to hold onto some semblance of normalcy.
“I... I think we should talk,” you finally managed to say, your voice carrying the uncertainty that lingered within. Jungkook’s smile wavered for a moment, but he quickly masked it.
You couldn’t ignore the fact that your life had taken a sharp turn, and the unfamiliar surroundings only intensified the sense of displacement. Jungkook threw himself at his sofa just where you were sitting months prior. He motioned with his hand, silently ordering you to sit.
“I promise not to bother you long. I just need you to get me off the blacklist so I can get a job. I can’t be tied to you indefinitely.” You spoke softly, careful to not anger him just yet. You knew he wouldn’t appreciate the direction this conversation was heading, but you needed to set the record straight. This was temporary, at least in your mind.
Jungkook’s expression shifted, a subtle tension in his features. He sighed. Leaning forward, Jungkook grabbed the remote control of the HiFi that was standing proud, setting it on, and whence the soft tones of Isaak’s “Wicked Game” resonated the penthouse, you could not help but raise an eyebrow.
He petted his knee, a silent invitation. You were not stupid to not understand what he wants, yet you opted to sit next to him instead of where he wanted you.
“Maybe we got lost in translation, love.” He spoke leaning closer to you. The music seemed to underscore the unspoken tension in the room.
“You won’t leave me, baby. I’ll keep you so satisfied and happy; you won’t even want to go.” He whispered to your ear. The atmosphere became charged with a palpable desire. His proximity sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of temptation and resistance.
“You can’t keep me here against my will, Jungkook,” you asserted, maintaining a thin thread of defiance. Yet, the allure of his touch lingered in the air, clouding your better judgement.
“Try me, love. I’ve got ways to make you stay,” he countered, his tone dripping with confidence.
It took all you have in you to stand up and storm to the large windows that provided a magnificent view of Manhattan. This time, however, he was right behind you.
You heard him growl. He was angry, and he proved so once you found yourself pinned to the large window, your back facing him. He attacked your neck right away, bruising every single inch. His hand roamed over your breast, squeezing them to the point you had to moan. The situation escalated rather quickly, your resistance made him press you to his back even harder.
“I’m so tired of your running,” he groaned into your neck. You put your hands on the glass trying to push yourself away and give yourself space to free from his grasp, but he has put a majority of his weight on you. You can feel his growing pulsating bulge on your heart-shaped bottom.
“Maybe I should show you, who you belong to, princess.” He cupped your sex through your pants, and you whimpered from the sensation. You knew this was utterly wrong; you should not react to his touch this way, but you couldn’t help to notice the wetness pooling in between your legs once he continues to attack your neck with his soft plump lips.
“Jungkook-” You tried to resist, but his hand was already done with unbuttoning your jeans, sliding right down to your core. Your panties were sticky, your head was spinning, and the part of a window was getting foggy right next to your mouth from your hot breath.
“I’m gonna fuck you so good.” He pulled his hand out of your pants for a second to wet his fingers and put them right back on the little bud that was waiting to be touched. He pressed his fingertips on your clit, circling it painfully slow. The heartthrob rutted his hips into your ass, looking for a friction, making you move your hips towards his hand. He chuckled to your ear.
“If you want that job, baby, why don’t you deserve it first?” you could sense a little hint of mockery in his voice. The pulsating beats of the music seemed to echo the rhythm of his movements. Now slow and calculated.
As the song reached its crescendo, his finger entered your vibrating heat. “Hm?” He pried, his finger moving in and out in punishingly slow, drawing silent moans from you when he brushed up the right spot.
“W-what do you want?” You stammered out of yourself.
“You. All of you of course.” Jungkook replied in a heartbeat. Your heart raced and your head was clouded by the pleasure he was providing. Moving his finger slightly faster, you found yourself bowing forward, your body wanted him to reach deeper.
“Please—” you whimpered when he slowed down the tempo again.
“Give me an answer baby, will you be my good girl?” Now it was your mind that raced, grappling with the implications of his question while squeezing your walls around his finger.
“Maybe you need a little more convincing, hm?” He softly bit your earlobe whilst inserting his second finger into your heat, making you moan louder than before. You pressed your forehead onto the glass and looked down at his hand in between your legs. The sight made your pussy clench even harder. A small tear escaped your eye, you are overwhelmed, and the pleasure is clouding your sound judgement.
“What will it be, baby?” His fingers finally raised the tempo, and your eyesight was getting blurry, biting your lip from the sensation.
“Fuck—” you nibbed at your bottom lip a bit harder, trying to fight with yourself. But you couldn’t. He was playing a game, and he was winning this round.
“Yes!” you screamed louder than you intended when he hit the sweet spot, making you see stars. You did not necessarily want to agree. It was more of a reaction to how good his fingers feel inside of you. But Jungkook’s interpretation did not align with yours.
What you did not expect is the sudden feel of emptiness once his fingers abdicated its place. You protested with an unpleasant whine of frustration.
He spun you to face him, being quick enough to grab you below your ass, illocutionary forcing you to jump up. Jungkook leaned in to kiss you while he navigated the apartment blindly, right to the master bedroom.
Now you were feeling thrown. Literally. Your body bounced a little while Jungkook stood at the foot of his king sized bed adorned in black sheets. You could smell his expensive cologne on them. He was very eager to continue what you started.
His shirt was long gone and so were his pants when he was pulling down yours, alongside with your through-and-through wet panties. He very quickly inhabited his head in between your legs. Licking all the dirty juice your pussy was producing.
You could not help but to bury your fingers into his hair, slightly tugging on it once he decided to abuse your clit, sucking on it, his piercing cold against your skin. You were starting to feel the knot inside your lower belly, moaning and panting out loud.
“I’m gonna!—” you breathed out heavily. Squeezing your eyes shut, feeling the heat rushing your body.
“Not yet,” said the heartthrob, parting away from you. You shot your eyes open to look at him towering over you, his briefs thrown away somewhere in the room, and his pride leaning proudly against his abdomen, angry and red. The perfect opposite of soft. You gulped down. He was definitely not lying when he suggested he is thick.
The heartthrob helped you get rid of the rest of your clothes, bending down to lay a single kiss right above your clit, maintaining eye contact with you all the time. Sticking his tongue out yet again, making a straight wet line up your belly, ending at the valley between your breasts.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He groaned, squeezing your tits while pumping his dick, he could not take it anymore.
He spread your legs further, making space for him to fit right in. Your walls are trembling from excitement, especially when he presses the length of his cock to your lips, coating himself in your juices.
“Condo—” you went to say when his lips silenced you in a hard passionate kiss. He moaned to your mouth, pressing the tip of his cock to your entrance, stretching you open. You pressed your hands to his chest, parting away from him. He looked at you with confusion and you repeated yourself.
“Condom, Guk,” you said, using the nickname in an attempt to soften his hard features. Something told you that you might have just pissed him off. The heartthrob sighed and involuntarily got up, walking all the way to the bathroom, giving you a million-dollar view of his ass. Your gaze then shifted to his muscular shoulders, involuntarily admiring his impressive physique. You couldn’t deny he was hot as hell.
Your nipples were perky from the thrill that your body was going through. It was quite some time since the last you got laid. Maybe that’s why it took him minimum effort to turn you into a whiny, needy little bitch.
You heard the light switch going off in the bathroom, and the man himself appearing in the doorframe with the little shiny square in his hands. Tearing it open, he returned to sit on his knees on the bed while sliding the condom on.
He grabbed your legs under your knees with one swift movement, sliding you closer to him. One hand aiming his cock to your entrance the other finding its place on your throat, holding it with the right pressure to elevate your pleasure. Pushing all the way through, you whimpered loudly at the intrusion. He was big, and you felt like you’re going to explode. The heat rushed through you like a momentary fever.
The heartthrob could not wait for you to adjust to his size, and he started to snap his hips into you in a punishing tempo, making your body bounce up at every thrust and clench your eyes shut tightly. Loud moans coming out of you.
“You take me so well, baby.” He whispered into your ear seductively, panting and groaning from the pleasure. He was on cloud nine, finally having the woman he longed for quite some time.
“Got me waiting for this pussy almost the whole damn year.” You met his hungry gaze, your moaning synchronised with his. He crushed his lips to yours one more time before thrusting his cock in and out of your heat faster and deeper.
You bit down on his lip, him groaning at the sensation, slapping your ass in the heat of the moment.
“This pussy was fucking designed for me.” He claimed you.
He was hitting all the right places, making you squeeze your eyes shut again. He upheld his promise to fuck you good. You can regret this after, now it’s not the time.
“M’wanna pound this pretty ass too.” He pulled out of you, turning you to lay on your belly, slapping the already reddened skin before setting you on all fours, ass up. He did not hesitate to rut inside of you again, feeling him all the way in your stomach, you screamed his name.
“Jungkook!” his thrusts set a brutal pace that you were not sure if you’ll survive. Their moans continued to echo in the room.
“You belong to me.” He growled, pounding your pussy, the sound of skin slapping was audible ten times louder than usual. The knot in your lower belly appeared again, got you moaning uncontrollably.
Jungkook sensed that your climax was near and went to rub your clit with the desire to make you cum all over him while getting himself off with you.
“Guk—” you choked on your words, your legs and hands were trembling, tears springing out of your eyes. You desperately needed to cum.
“I know, baby.” He kissed the arch of your back, making his hand and hips move even faster, hitting your cervix. If this is heaven, you don’t want to leave.
“I-I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!” You shouted, feeling the knot untying itself rather quickly. Jungkook growled right to your ear. He was close too, dangerously close.
“Baby!” He whimpered, feeling the tension rising.
Your juice splashed the sheets as you squirted all over his cock, crying, the orgasm hitting you way too hard. Jungkook’s hips did not stop while he chased his own release, complimenting you, your body, and how you are such a good girl while doing so. With a loud moan and one last deep thrust, he came in you, holding you still while he emptied himself. The warmth of his release felt too authentic, but you were too fucked out to notice.
As you were also too fucked out to notice the empty abandoned condom laying on the ground.
“I love you so much baby—”
It was getting dark outside when you woke up, your head pounding as you looked over your naked body and evident ache in between your legs. The sheer curtains that are covering the floor to ceiling windows, once airy and light, now filter the early evening light into a soft, diffused glow, creating a cosy atmosphere. You cuddled the soft sheets that were wrapped around your lower body, thinking that you could sleep some more.
But when you heard the muted notes of En Vogue’s Whatta Man blasting somewhere in the penthouse, any hopes of serenity were shattered. A curse slipped through your lips as the reality of your surroundings hit you.
“Fuck,” you muttered through your teeth, the small fists pounding against the bed. To muffle the scream of mixed emotions, you seized a leopard-patterned pillow, pressing it against your face.
You had willingly let this happen, all for the pursuit of a damn book and damn fucking job and your damn fucking career. But why was it so precious, you might ask? Your portfolio wasn’t just a collection of pages bound together; it was a culmination of dreams, aspirations, and relentless hard work. Each design you made over the years, a carefully curated piece of your artistic vision, held a piece of your soul.
The portfolio was your identity as a designer, a visual storyteller who poured emotions, creativity, and skill into each piece of clothing. It was something you presented yourself with, and you believed it held the power to open doors. It got you your first adult job after you spent two years in the big apple on your own, dreaming big while washing dishes behind the counter.
And it got you the second job of your early fashion career, a higher position than sales assistant, the head designer at the men’s wear division at Calvin Klein. You were aiming to become the head of the department when a better offer came your way, from Guess.
The project they offered you to be a part of was a kind of interview to get through and sit as the executive director of the women’s department. You were thrilled to accept as you always wanted to design for your gender.
And he fucked it up. So, you have to excuse yourself by letting your guard down, giving him a chance to sway you. You are doing this for you and your career.
You sat on the bed, eyeing the modern bedroom that screamed his name as did the smell of the room. Just like you remembered before you blacked out from all the pleasure he forced upon you.
Sighing, you moved your sore naked body to the edge of the bed. A black leather armchair caught your eye, a clean set of underwear laid out on it, burning under your gaze. You gulped down. This was your mess after all. You let him come too close—extremely close, judging by the recurring ache between your legs.
“Fuck it, it’s fine.” You’d manage somehow, or at least, that’s how you decided to play along with his nonsensical fantasy and possessive behaviour.
You tiptoed down the penthouse, searching for the devil. You knew you were going the right way when the music grew louder. Peeking from the narrow hallway into the living room, he was nowhere in sight. Only the RCA telly with MTV on indicated that he must’ve been there.
The sizzling sound of something cooking and a pleasant aroma hit your ears and nose. He was in the kitchen, cooking. Jeon Jungkook was in the kitchen, cooking. A certain degree of domesticity welcomed you as you stepped into the all-blue kitchen. His kitchen was way nicer than yours, you noted. Large cabinets, the island full of food ingredients he was preparing. Your gaze lingered as your eyes traced his masculine, naked back, tattoos shouting at you. Your knees felt weak at the sight, your body reacting to him as if he were the alpha wolf.
You couldn’t help but bite your lip. He was swaying his hips to the rhythm of the song. Even from this point of view, you could tell he is in a very good mood. It seemed like he was glowing.
You leaned against the arch, contemplating whether to make your presence known or observe from the shadows. Before you could decide, he turned around, planning to cut the vegetables, his eyes locking onto yours immediately. Bunny smile plastered on his face, reaching his ears — a juxtaposition to how anxious you looked in his big shirt.
Quickly circling the kitchen island, he reached you in a matter of seconds. The heartthrob was beaming with happiness seeing you in his kitchen, in his shirt, barefoot, face raw, and all his. At least, that was his perspective after he finally got you where he wanted you.
“Baby!” He squeaked happily, pulling you by your wrists. The movement causes your petite frame to collide with his naked torso. Jungkook did not let you speak even if you wanted to, instead he pulled you even closer, pressing his lips to yours. You yelped, surprised by the unexpected collision. The vulnerability you felt in his presence only heightened as he claimed you, his happiness seemingly derived from having you exactly where he wanted—vulnerable and dependent on him.
The kiss lingered for a moment, and as Jungkook pulled back, his eyes locked onto yours again, gleaming with an unspoken mischief you could not decipher. He seemed to revel in the flustered state he had induced, and a cocky grin played on his lips.
“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered, his warm breath grazing your ear as he finally released your wrists, pecking your lips softly again. The shirt you wore clung to your form.
“It’s almost five pm.” You muttered back after you gave the digital clock on the stove a glance. He laughed it off, not replying.
“How do you like your steak?” he asked, his tone casual as if the passionate kiss hadn’t just occurred.
“M-medium rare,” you stammered, still processing the sudden turn of events. He chuckled, the sound resonating in the cosy kitchen as he came back to the stove to resume cooking, what you assumed is your dinner. Your stomach growled loudly when the delicious smell hit your nostrils, loudly. Jungkook even looked your way, encouraging you to take whatever you wanted from the fridge that was next to him, until dinner was ready.
You looked at the silver double-door fridge, and suddenly, your hunger vanished. Those were your magnets that were on your fridge just hours prior. He went through your boxes and unpacked them. The world was spinning, and your stomach was dangerously twisting.
He noticed the change in your expression, the playfulness in his eyes fading as he followed your gaze to the fridge.
“Something wrong, baby?” he inquired. You swallowed hard, attempting to mask the unease that threatened to bubble to the surface.
“No, nothing,” you replied, forcing a tight smile. His attention returned to the stove, the sizzling sounds and savoury aroma filling the kitchen. The clock on the stove continued its indifferent march towards evening. But your mind stopped.
“I-I think—” you stammered, it was hard for you to speak when there was an evident lump in your throat that wanted to emerge to the surface.
“Baby?” he raised a brow at you, letting everything he was doing to approach you again. You gulped down, trying to breathe it out.
“I think... I need—,” you tried, the words escaping in a breathy whisper. Jungkook’s expression shifted from curiosity to concern as he stepped closer. That got you even more anxious and a quick escape was a way you opted.
Your legs carried you back to the room where you knew a bathroom would be near. You heard him calling your name, but he did not run to get you. He must have thought that you’re trying to run again, but when he saw you going the way the master bedroom is, he did not push it.
You slumped right to your knees, emptying your already empty stomach into the toilet. Tears stringed from your eyes. Before you could calm or clean yourself the door creaked open, and Jungkook’s concerned voice seeped into the bathroom.
“Oh my god! Are you okay baby?” He hovered in the doorway, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. You didn’t have the strength to respond, only offering a weak nod as you continued to empty the contents of your stomach.
His footsteps approached, and you could feel him kneeling beside you, one hand tentatively rubbing your back.
“Easy, baby. Easy,” he murmured softly.
After a moment, the nausea subsided, and you leaned back against the cool porcelain, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Jungkook remained by your side, a true concern readable in his eyes.
As you caught your breath, you couldn’t help but notice the familiar objects around the bathroom. Toothbrush, hairbrush, all your makeup and even your pyjamas, had found a place alongside Jungkook’s in the bathroom. He was blurring the lines between your lives.
Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you winced at the sight of prominent hickeys and bite marks adorning your neck. You caught Jungkook’s worrying gaze but did not pay attention to it longer than you needed to.
“When was the last time you ate properly, baby?” he asked, caressing the small of your back, kissing the top of your head. You touched the tender skin on your neck, a mix of shame and regret settling in the pit of your stomach.
You knew very well that this wasn’t a doing of the lack of nutrition within your body but it did stop you to think for a second. When was the last time you had a proper meal and not a cheap ramen noodles from a convenience store near your building? You did not recall, so you rather opted to shrug your shoulders and reach for your toothbrush that could have melted under your gaze at this point.
“Why don’t you freshen up, and I’m going to finish dinner.” He sighed and kissed your temple. You’ve let him. He has done worse. As he left the bathroom, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being exposed—physically, emotionally, and now even in your most private spaces. Your eyes lingered back on the assortment of makeup and personal items neatly arranged beside his.
Brushing your teeth never felt so foreign and unnatural. Your eyes darted around his room after you finished, and that’s when you noticed what you did not when you woke up —a closet, half-filled with your clothes. Neatly folded, hanged right beside his. Even your jewellery was sorted by the type of metal. Your shoes, your skirts, dresses, everything. He had seamlessly integrated your wardrobe into his, as if signalling an intention far beyond a temporary stay.
Then all your pictures scattered on the walls as you walked down the corridor back to the heartthrob who swayed you here. Feeling the unease building in your stomach again.
Jungkook stood by the table, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched you approach. His eyes flickered with a mixture of amusement and possession. This all seemed like a stage for a performance you hadn’t signed up for.
The steak, perfectly cooked to your liking, accompanied by a side of vegetables. The spread looked delectable, and your stomach rumbled again, reminding you that you hadn’t had a proper meal in days. The scent of the meal teased your senses.
As you picked at your food, a question lingered in the back of your mind—how had it come to this? Have you really had no choice but him? Was this worth the trouble? Perhaps.
Your parents would think of you as a failure if you returned home. and your pride did not allow you to pick up your old job and be a girl for everything. You worked in the fashion industry and you were willing to do anything to maintain it.
“Are you listening to me, baby?” Jungkook broke the stream of your consciousness, his voice soft yet insistent. You hummed in response but your ears could not pick precise words that left his mouth.
“There’s Grammys next week, do you have any design for the red carpet so we could match—”
“What about the job?” You interrupted him, setting your fork down, staring at him viciously.
“So the Grammys—” he tried to continue without replying to you but you were having none of it.
“So the job, Jungkook.” You said through clenched teeth one more time. You weren’t about to let him sidestep the conversation about your career.
He sighed, the corners of his mouth twitching with a momentary annoyance. The room crackled with tension, the unspoken power dynamics unravelling before you.
“You’ve been a very good girl so far—” he lifted the handkerchief he had on his lap and placed it on top of the table next to his glass of red wine.
“Why do you have to misbehave now.” His attempt to redirect the conversation towards your behaviour only fuelled your frustration.
“I’m not misbehaving, Jungkook,” you shot back, your voice sharp and unyielding. “I need to know about the job. I need to know that you’re actually doing something concrete to help me, not just playing puppeteer with my life.”
“There’s an opening at Givenchy, and Prada or Dior but—” your eyes were full of false hope.
“—until I can be sure you won’t leave me the second you get the new job. You won’t go to any interview.” He leaned back, a predatory gleam in his eyes, as if enjoying the power play.
Your mind raced, torn between ambition and self-respect. You had worked tirelessly to establish yourself, and the taste of success was within reach. Yet, the cost demanded by Jungkook was steep—an indefinite surrender of your autonomy.
“That’s not what we agreed upon—” You whined out, anxiety clutching your insights in tight grip.
“Oh but we did baby.” He answered swiftly, smiling sweetly.
“I—” you wanted to protest, but he was quick to dismiss any argument you wanted to come up with.
“I said I want you, and you agreed, baby. You can’t take it back.”
“What does that even mean?!” You whined out.
“That I won’t let you slip through my fingers again. You belong here with me, and you better learn your place or prepare for a farewell with the magnificent fashion world of yours.” The ultimatum echoed in your mind as his gaze was trying to make you submit. Jungkook’s possessiveness loomed over you, a suffocating force that sought to confine your wings.
“You can’t force me,” words slipped past your lips, a proclamation of your refusal to succumb to his dominance.
“You underestimate the lengths I’ll go to keep you, Y/N,” he retorted, his voice low and laced with a dangerous edge.
“You’re sick.” You spat out at him, standing up to leave when he grabbed you and held you tight. You were looking up at his face, seemingly angry with your words. His eyes darkened, a fleeting moment of anger crossing his features.
“Aren’t you a bit ungrateful, my love?” he seethed, his voice a low growl. The possessive tone sent shivers down your spine, but you refused to cower under his gaze.
“I’m providing you with shelter, food, money and most of all my love.”
“It’s sick, Jungkook. This isn’t love,” you shot back, your voice unwavering. He leaned in, his face inches from yours, his grip unyielding. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.
“You’re testing my patience, Y/N. You’re mine,” he retorted quickly, not letting you go. You wanted to protest, to tell him to fuck off, and even worse things, but he was not finished.
“Think with your pretty little head, won’t you?—” you glared at him, defiance burning in your eyes.
“—you can live like a princess, you can have your dream position and on top of that a loving significant other — me.” The seconds felt like an eternity, the weight of his possessiveness pressing down on you.
“What is success for when you cannot share the joy with someone you love.” He whispered, a sinister undertone in his words. You had a feeling he’s not only talking about you. You had to think, and you had to think quickly.
“You’re asking me to give up my autonomy, Jungkook.” You shot back, your voice unwavering. He scoffed, the air heavy with tension.
“You’re too stubborn for your own good, Y/N. You need me—” He chuckled, a condescending tone lacing his voice.
“—what were you gonna do if you didn’t come to me? Hm? Your mami and papi who are disappointed in you or your fake friends who did not bat an eye to try and help you out?—” You turned your face away from him, not wanting to let his words affect you.
“—I helped you. I am here for you!” He shook you, still holding a tight grip on you.
“All I’m asking in return is you to give yourself to me.” With a defiant push, you broke free from his grasp, leaving him seething in frustration. Covering your face with your palms, you sobbed.
“Love and loyalty is not that big of a price when you think about it.”
“You promise?” you choked out through your tears. You were tired, exhausted to the bone, and this was taking a bigger toll on you than you would expect. You wanted to trick him and instead he tricked you. But you needed to play by his rules to win in the game he started. His eyes softened momentarily, a twisted form of concern flickering in his gaze.
“I promise, baby,” he murmured, his tone almost soothing. The fire has ceased for now. Or so you thought. Despite the fragile promise, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were dancing on the edge of a precipice, held by the strings he so skilfully pulled. But the stakes were high, and you couldn’t afford to falter. You had no shelter, almost no money and no one to turn to. For now. You promised yourself, this is temporary. You will find a way out of this arrangement.
You finished your dinner. He insisted. You stripped naked while he was drawing the bath. He again insisted. The penthouse, filled with music and the fragrance of expensive candles. You allowed yourself to be led, like a puppet, your exhaustion overshadowing your instincts. As you sat there in the hot water, vulnerable, he wiped away your tears.
The water lapping against your skin is like an ominous reminder of the depths you found yourself in. Jungkook’s hands traced patterns on your back.
Jungkook, seemingly attuned to your exhaustion, wiped away your tears, the gesture carrying a strange mixture of care and control.
“It’s all gonna feel better once you accept it.” Said he, right to your ear, sending shivers down your naked body. You pressed your legs to your chest to hide yourself, a futile attempt at preserving some semblance of privacy, even though he had seen it all.
“I cannot grasp why you would do this to me, Jungkook,” you sobbed, letting him hold you against his chest.
“I did it for us, baby.” His hands firmly gripped yours now, making them stop hugging your knees. The heartthrob wanted you to relax in his presence. A laughable request considering the circumstances that led you here.
“Stop being delusional. There is no us.” You finally let him move your hands only for you to grab the frame of the bathtub and attempt to pull yourself up and away from him. He did not fancy this attempt of yours, and he let you know that by grabbing a large portion of your hair, dragging you back.
Your body slammed to his naked torso with a loud slap caused by the wet skin on skin contact. It took your breath away for a good minute.
“You didn’t seem to argue about it earlier today when my cock was hitting all-the-right-places, making you squirt, hmm?” Said the raven haired man, still holding your hair in his fist. He did not intend to hurt you, no, it was not as painful as the whole humiliating scenery and the fact you could not break free of him. He’s putting an example of what will happen once you stop behaving again. Putting you in your place — that’s what he called it.
“Matter of fact, Imma show you again that there’s us baby, until you realise it yourself.”
Trying to wiggle out of his grasp, you whimpered every time you pulled your hair back to make you stay still. And as if he changed his mind, your body was pulled out of the warm water, letting your hair go, making you fall down to the bright rug on the floor of the bathroom. Soaking it wet you looked up to him towering over your shivering physique.
“It was about time for you to show me how you are grateful to be my good girl—” he stepped closer. You did not want to look at him, knowing well what he is talking about.
“Open up baby—” you shook your head, pulling away from him and his hard member that he was holding just inches away from your face. You felt it meet your cheek and immediately retrieved yourself again which made him even more frustrated. His cock was painfully hard, and you were not cooperating.
The tattooed hand in your hair pulled you right back, his eyes bore to yours with a hard stare, and you swear they got even darker. His other hand was clutching your jaw, harder and harder until you involuntarily opened your mouth wide enough.
Taking the chance right away, he slipped his thick and hard manhood into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. He hissed at how your teeth slightly scraped his dick. You choked on it, but he was unfazed by it, continuing to thrust into your throat, making tears fall down your cheeks.
“I knew you could be my good girl.” He groaned, praising you with each of his hard thrusts into your mouth. Your breathing was shallow, and you tried to get as much air as you could. He was moaning loudly, the wet sounds of his cock slipping in and out of your mouth, covered by your saliva made him even more aroused and hungry for you.
“You just need a bit of a re-education.” He was getting lost in the pleasure your mouth was providing him, and you were deprived of the air you needed. Your hand hit his pelvis when you thought you’re going to pass out soon.
“Just a moment more, baby. I know you can take it.” He said through gritted teeth. Jungkook was panting loudly, mixing it with loud moans of your name.
“Fuck, Y/N. You’re my heaven.” Your nails were scratching his abdomen, trying to break free, but his hold was too strong. You were drooling all over his cock, and your hand started to spin from the lack of oxygen and how quickly your head was bobbing.
He was getting dangerously close and his sloppy movements reflected that. He managed to pull one last thrust before he was cumming down your throat. He was letting his dick soften, pressed on your tongue while the hot semen was springing out of his tip.
“Swallow.”
The night wore on, shadows dancing on the walls as you lay there, pressed to his chest, his hand limply laying on your hip, contemplating the surreal turn you took.
If anything arose in you during the intercourse you wish you would wipe out of your mind, it was a determination to break free from the suffocating grasp of the penthouse.
Jungkook laid beside you, his breathing steady, a façade of tranquillity painted on his features. As he drifted into a seemingly serene slumber, you waited for the right moment to seize the opportunity.
When you were certain he was deeply asleep, you carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, a shiver running down your spine as you tiptoed through the room.
The moon cast a pale glow through the sheer curtains, guiding your movements as you tiptoed across the room. Your hand grasped the cold doorknob, the soft creaking of the door threatened to betray your escape. Your body frozen in time, your pupils shaking, fearing what happens if he wakes up. You wait a minute to make sure he is not coming to drag you back before you open the door in one swift movement.
You rethought the tasks you listed in your plan. Find the portfolio and get the fuck out as quick as possible. Everything else is replaceable for you. The mindset that the portfolio is the only key to all your problems, remained.
The adrenaline surged through your veins, the pulse of your heart echoing in the quiet hallway you walked through to get to the front of the penthouse.
He never took you upstairs, therefore you assumed that’s where he must’ve hidden it.
You approached the staircase, the carpet soft beneath your feet. The air seemed to grow heavier with every ascending step. The possibility of him waking up was not zero.
As you reached the upper level, you noticed the subtle shift in the ambiance. The hallway, adorned with pieces of art that whispered tales of luxury, and all his awards he won during his career, displayed to show his success. You passed several open doors, a home recording studio in one of them, be ridden of what you were looking for.
The hallway led you towards a set of double doors. That must be it. The doors creaked open, your gaze scanning for any sign of your portfolio. Your eyes flickering between the meticulously arranged accolades and the sprawling desk. He must be using this room as his office.
The seconds stretched into minutes, the urgency escalating with each passing heartbeat. You began with the drawers of the glass table, trying to be as quiet as possible. You cannot afford to cause commotion.
Anxiety wrapped around you, a vice tightening with every passing moment. You went through the library too, looked under every surface, you could not find it.
With a deep breath, you steadied yourself. There must be another place he could have hidden it. Your eyes fell upon the stack of papers, leaning your head to the side you examined the tabloid underneath with your face on it.
You fished it out in mere seconds, eyeing it unbelievably. If you were on the cover of a tabloid you would for sure know that. But you were not aware that your face appeared in Star magazine, right beside Jungkook. “Jungkook’s Mysterious Muse Revealed!” the headline screamed at you.
It was not only you after all. Society has convinced Jungkook that you two are sort of an item. A clandestine affair, a narrative spun by the society, linking your name with Jungkook’s in a tale of intrigue.
It was dated right when you started working on Klein’s campaign, back in April. It is almost the end of November now, and this is the first time you’re seeing this. You couldn’t fathom how deeply the web had been woven around you. The urgency of the situation intensified, and you combed through every conceivable hiding spot.
A sudden noise from downstairs snapped your attention. Fear gripped you, and your heart raced. Did he wake up? The urgency of the situation intensified, and you felt the weight of the clock ticking against you.
You sobbed and when you went to rub your eyes, they fell upon the other room diagonally from the one you were searching now. The doors were slightly ajar and you could see soft shades of colours within. In a last-ditch effort you marched towards it.
But ever stepping inside you regretted. The whole scenery that was revealed once you opened the door swiftly caught your breath in your throat.
The soft shades of colours painted a haunting picture—a baby room, unfinished and untouched by time. The sight startled you, sending a shiver down your spine. This can’t be.
“No..” You whispered to yourself, panicking. Your hands found their place in your hair. He is one delusional man. There is no other explanation, he is sick in the head if he thinks he is going to baby trap you.
A sense of dread overwhelmed you, and in your shock, you stumbled over something on the floor, hitting your head in the process. You groaned from the pain, forgetting that this commotion must have been loud enough for Jungkook to wake up.
As you rolled to the side, your eyes widened in disbelief. The portfolio was taped to the bottom of a cabinet. Without a second thought, you ripped it free, the sound echoing in the quiet room.
The rain outside intensified, a symphony of droplets against the windows. With the portfolio clutched in your hands, you ran down the stairs, right to the front door you prayed would not be locked. Would he be that careless? Yes. The degree of his mental instability was enough for him to believe that you are his and you would not think of running. He cut off every single option you had.
First, by making sure that your former employer would get to know you’re planning to leave the brand, enough for them to let you go. Second, he successfully obtained your portfolio that you were stupid enough to not make a copy of, which resulted in not meeting the deadline with Guess and losing that job opportunity too.
Third, he did not expect you to not stay the first you went to his penthouse but he was determined to go to extremes. So, every single fashion brand that had department stores in New York and in the rest of the world, backlisted you. No job application you sent, assistant buyer, a visibly lower position to what you had at Klein, would be turned down.
Fourth, make sure your landlord has already a tenant replacing you, ready to pay double for your apartment if they can move in as soon as possible.
That you’re alienated from your parents played his cards right and he never wished anything bad upon someone else, but how he thanked God that your friends have either too small apartments for another person to live in or they were struggling even more than you were. But lucky for you. He was right there, waiting for your call.
The handle felt too cold in your hand once you pushed the front door open merging the distance to the elevators, you were madly pushing the down button.
The seconds felt like an eternity as you waited for the elevator. Your breaths came in short, erratic bursts, mirroring the frenetic pace of your heart. Quickly stepping inside the metal box you heard it.
“Y/N?!” Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. His eyes momentarily locked with yours. You were clutching your portfolio to your chest, the other hand pressing the close button, praying it will close faster.
He must have heard you running down the stairs, or perhaps when you tripped and fell. You even forgot that you’ve hurt yourself. The adrenaline was overshadowing the pain.
“Come back right now!” He was mad, that much you could tell.
With the last determined push, you closed the door on him, severing the visual link between you. Letting out a relieving breath, you knew that this is far from being over. The elevator descended, carrying you away from the penthouse.
He cannot make it all the way down in time before you’ll disappear from the area. You prayed, he would not.
The lobby welcomed you as the doors opened, the room blurred as you stormed towards the exit, your heart pounding in rhythm with the rain. You burst into the rain-soaked night. Clutching the book tightly, a surge of triumph coursed through your veins.
The cold drops pelted against your skin. The relentless downpour soaking your clothes and hair. Running towards the street, you waved at the cars, hoping a taxi would stop.
It took a minute for some yellow car to appear at the curb, not wasting time, you ran towards it.
A smile appeared on your face after a long time. You did not know where you’re going, nor what you’re going to do next but Jungkook was never supposed to be your option and now you got the chance to choose differently or not? This is your second chance, and you’re willing to take it.
Your hand touched the handle of the yellow vehicle, opening the door and planning to leap inside as quickly as possible.
A strong tattooed hand closed abruptly. You gulped down an enormous lump in your throat, almost not breathing. How could this happen? It was mere minutes. Did he run the stairs? Did you take too long to catch a cab? Should you just run as far as possible?
Every single thing you could have done differently would not change the outcome it seems. And every single thing worked out in his favour, again.
His palm pressed on the taxi door firm, you could not open it anymore nor he would let you hop in the front seat. Your heart pounded in your chest, the tension and fear to face him was killing you. The portfolio now felt like a burden, if you make peace with losing it and your career, would you avoid this?
You could feel his eyes burning holes to the back of your head.
“I will not go back.” You said, voice resolute, but inside you were shaking. You could feel his hot breath on your cold skin, similarly you could feel his body pressing to your back. Once he reached your ear, you felt his lips mere inches from it, whispering.
“You will.”
I N T E R L O G U E
Jungkook settled into the plush leather chair after he finished carefully unpacking all your belongings, believing he is helping you to settle down. His fingers deftly dialled his mother’s number. As the phone rang, he gazed out over the city lights sprawling beneath him, a realm he had conquered with ruthless determination.
His new song, obviously written about you, was an enormous hit, granting him another Grammy nomination. But what was his success for when he did not have his love to share it with?
He smiled to himself, he got you. After long months of chasing you, then giving you the space you needed to realise he is your best shot in this world, you’re finally where you belong. Next to him.
The familiar voice of his mother greeted him, warm and comforting.
“Eomma—” Jungkook said, his tone affectionate.
“Jungkook, dear! How is my baby?” His mother’s voice held a blend of joy and concern.
“I’m doing well, Eomma. I have some news to share,” he said, his eyes glancing toward the bedroom where Y/N lay, unaware of the conversation taking place.
“Oh? Do tell,” his mother replied, anticipation evident in her voice. Jungkook leaned back, a subtle smile playing on his lips.
“Y/N moved in.” His mother’s delight was palpable through the phone. Jungkook let her know the very moment he stepped into your office that he is very much interested in you. That he met the special one he wants to grow old with.
As he spoke, he subtly weaved a narrative of love and destiny, carefully crafting the tale of their supposed connection. His mother listened attentively, hanging onto every word.
“Are you going to propose over Christmas like you wanted, Kookie?” His mother gasped with excitement. Jungkook glanced at the bedroom once more, satisfaction settling within him. The diamond ring well hidden deep inside of the closet. But that’s given and final in his mind, there’s something more he selfishly wants. Not only will it make sure you won’t be able to leave him any more, it will give you reason to grow to love him back. After all, he would be the only person who you can grow old with.
“We’re trying for a baby, Eomma.”
.
.
.
©pennyellee. please do not repost
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Fly V to the Moon - Ch. 27
“The one where he wants to be where she is”
Aaaaand... this is the end of Part 1 of Fly V to the Moon. I’ve decided to split this journey into two parts, as we have come a long way, but there’s still so much I have left to write. I think these 27 chapters can stand well on their own, as they tell the journey of Lia and our Tae coming together. But! There’s more to the story! Some of my favorite future chapters have not been written yet. I’ll announce Part 2 soon, but in the meantime, enjoy these 27 little things. Twenty-seven chapters for our almost 27 year-old. Every like and every read you’ve given to this little piece of my heart has genuinely, truthfully, sincerely meant a lot! :) Thank you for flying to the moon with us.
Pairing: Taehyung x OFC
Genre: Fluff, Idol AU, Coffee Shop AU, Café Singer OFC, Slow Burn
Warnings: Light swearing, but it’s all for banter. Again, this is fluff.
Word count: 2.2k (Usually short chapters!)
Recommended Songs: Christmas Tree — V; Easy Love — Pentatonix; Sunflower — Harry Styles; Fly Me to the Moon — covered by Suhyun; L.O.V.E. — covered by Suhyun .
Summary: She’s a foreign elementary school teacher by day, a charming singer by night. Taehyung and company discover her at a small garden jazz café where she had a gig one night, only to find out from Jin that she was an arts teacher at a local school in Seoul — Jin's nephew and niece’s teacher, in fact. Taehyung finds himself on a surprise adventure to the moon.
Masterlist
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Fly V to the Moon — by Nightscape Persona
Chapter 27: The one where he wants to be where she is
It was the day of the Winter Farewell Show.
A Friday in the second week of March.
Showtime was drawing near by the minute, and Lia was doing what you’re supposed to before a show: wait and try to calm down.
That day they had been waiting in a small ward across the terrace. Across the garden on the compound of the café that had been recently refurbished. Though most of it had been adapted as a gallery and private rooms for distinguished guests, a ward had been kept as a dressing room for invited artists.
Funnily enough, as soon as she’d walked into the café earlier that afternoon, she had been notified of a gift awaiting her in the dressing room.
An arrangement of flowers.
A bouquet of sinuous shimmer roses, apricot peonies, and peach carnations, adorned with fluffy bunny tail grass.
An exquisite bouquet with a small card attached to it that bore a message from none other than…
Taehyung (HeR bOyfRiEnD).
It was not handwritten by him, but it was heartfelt.
Since I cannot be where you are.
—V
She had gone bananas internally. Her bandmates had gone bananas externally, and she had no other choice but to tell them. That he’d sent the flowers, of course.
Not anything else. She still hadn’t told them about what happened after their date. All they knew was that it went very well. No one knew they’d met again. Not even Jihyo knew they were now on official terms. She wasn’t sure it was a good idea to let so many people into their little thing yet. Or ever perhaps. Even if they were as see-through as glass.
So that’s as far as she’d told them, that he’d sent the flowers.
And they went even more bananas.
She too was over the moon and floating on helium, but a little thorn threatened to spike into her balloon whenever she had to say that no, he wouldn’t make it to the show. The balloon also threatened to fly her higher and higher whenever they teased her about it, because, yes, her boyfriend had sent her flowers and she was giddy as fuck.
Anyways. That had been over an hour earlier.
It was now twenty minutes till three in the afternoon of a warm-ish Friday in the second week of a thawing March. The rush of adrenaline before a new show was settling in, and Lia was trying to assuage her nerves.
She was currently caressing the meanders of a carnation flower as she quietly sang one song.
“And I’ll tell you…”
Focused on the pretty flower and her thoughts. On the song—his song—that spoke, amusingly, of thoughts thought by her.
Focused on the person it brought back memories of.
“A million little reasons...”
Too focused to hear the half-muffled expression uttered by her bandmate.
“Oh my go—!”
Muffled as if something covered her mouth. Or something. Perhaps a hand.
Typical banter among the band.
The door creaked shut as feet shuffled around it.
“I’m falling for your eyes.”
Still, she continued singing. She was used to the noise and the quiet and the going and coming before a show. And she had nerves to dampen, so she paid them no mind.
“I just want to be where you are.”
What took her out of the reverie of sinuate petals and the soft song and warm thoughts was someone clearing his throat right behind her.
Someone she immediately recognized.
But it couldn’t be.
Her finger stopped tracing the flower.
The room was absolutely silent. Like everybody else had left, which was normal.
Except for the sound of gentle breathing behind her.
No.
It couldn’t be.
“Then it’s good I made it to where you are.”
No way.
Lia turned around in a heartbeat to his tall figure clad in brown before the door, a grin plastered on his face.
“What—but what—how—you’re—?”
Such eloquence.
“What are you doing here? Oh my god!”
She ran across the tiny room, and much to her dismay, he pulled her into a bear hug, belly laughing at her astonishment, as her voice went higher and higher.
You’d think they’d know each other for years, judging from how Taehyung had enfolded her inside his arms so tightly, almost crushing her, and how she had wrapped her own arms around his torso in response, zero resistance, happily letting herself be swayed from side to side by him, cheeks squished against his shoulder. A waft of his cologne hit her right in the face. One more thing she didn’t need to feel absolutely intoxicated.
She could stay there forever, you know. But she was in disbelief and required to know how his act of presence was even possible.
She broke off the hug, though still very much clinging to Taehyung, ogling him with eyes of wonder.
“How—you’re here—how is this possible?”
His eyes mirrored her merriment.
“Are you not supposed to be in—across the world?”
They were so close. She could see the mole below his eye as he shrugged.
“Well, we had a gap in our schedules and I asked if I could run away for a few hours.”
She just gawked at him. He was not a holo, but he seemed like one. As if she blinked, the illusion would disappear.
“So here I am.”
She was in pure disbelief.
“For a few hours.”
That was more than enough.
His face was only centimeters away. His face, which was very much real, and very much there right in front of her. Her hands wanted to cup his cheeks, and she let them.
His eyes glinted at her touch.
“Are you crazy?”
A mellow laughter.
“Maybe. But I couldn’t miss this. Seeing you on your favorite show yet.”
She ignored the awareness in her brain that he’d flown halfway across the world for a few hours to see her. She ignored it or she would go as insane as he was for doing such a thing.
“My flight leaves at 4.”
He was there. So close.
Irradiating heat. Gazing at her. Beaming at her. Holding her.
“4 in the morning?”
She took notice of his rosewood lips.
“Yes.”
His own eyes trailed over hers, mimicking her, like an echo.
She felt compelled to kiss him.
She was frozen in place—because of disbelief or excitement or nervousness or his handsome face being only inches away or his arms all around her, or everything at once—, but she felt an irresistible force begging her to kiss him.
So she did.
As scared of someone walking into the room as she was. Of someone seeing them all up in each other’s square meter. Her hands cradling his cheeks. His hands cradling her waist.
She unthawed the rest of her body into movement and made her face budge towards his face.
He leaned to meet her in the middle.
Like petals.
Soft.
Smooth.
Carnations.
Just a brush.
It was just a peck.
But it made her stupidly giddy.
When their lips parted ways, turning to smiles against each other, she was surprised by their softness pressing against her temple. Which made her grow shy even if she was smitten by it.
It was all very new, that sort of affection.
She was loving it, but still could only look down at the ground. His eyes followed hers down.
He immediately took notice of her shirt, his grin increasing in radiance by a thousand suns.
Yes, she had chosen to wear his Monet shirt for that gig.
“You’re actually wearing it!”
He walked back to look at her, stretching her arms, but not letting go of her hands.
“How could I not! It’s just in time for spring!”
He laughed.
Someone knocked on the door, taking them out of their little moment.
They dropped out of each other’s hands. For good measure.
“Teeeeen minutes for the shoooow!”
Gayeon.
They waited to see if she would come in. Apprehension in their faces. The door didn’t open.
“I should go grab my seat,” he said, shifting his feet towards the door.
A matter wandered through Lia’s brain.
“Taehyung.”
“Yes?,” his eyes turned to Lia, interest piqued by her serious tone.
“It’s better if no one sees us, right? To keep it between as few people as possible. Isn’t it?”
He sighed, but nodded.
“Well. Yes. Of course. For our privacy,” he pointed his finger between them. “But if you trust them, I don’t see why you shouldn’t tell your band.”
He moved his hand to tuck a curl of hair behind her ear.
“Okay.”
He smiled then.
“I’ll see you then.”
She gestured towards the bouquet.
“Thank you for the—.”
His eyes widened.
“Oh! I almost forgot!”
He started patting around his coat, quite earnestly. Quite comically.
Lia was giggling now.
After some searching, he retrieved a small pearl card from a pocket inside the coat.
“Aha.”
Taehyung held it up triumphantly and handed it to Lia, ceremoniously. His own way of dealing with nerves, she supposed.
“Pretend it came with the bouquet. I wanted the card to be handwritten, but that would have been impossible, you know, given that I ordered it from another continent entirely and all.”
She turned it over.
I just want to be where you are.
“But since I’m here now.”
She looked at him, fondness welling up inside her chest and hummingbirds fluttering around her belly.
His eyes were puddles of warmth, and she could get lost inside them. Fall inside them, just like Alice down the rabbit hole. She’d never stop falling for his eyes.
But someone knocked on the door again.
“Hello! I’m coming in!”
Jimin.
Of course.
The door opened a little bit.
“They told me to tell you it’s minus six minutes now,” Jimin smiled, peeking through the gap. “Hi!”
Lia giggled as she greeted him, sort of sheepish, sort of happy to see Taehyung had not come alone. Jimin walked in and went straight for a hug. A gentle hug that said many things.
“It’s nice to see you,” he said sweetly, letting go. “But I have to take your lovebird with me so you can go do your show now.”
He winked as he started to drag Taehyung outside of the room.
“Wait, wait, wait!,” Taehyung squawked.
“Okay, you have five seconds,” Jimin turned towards the corridor.
Taehyung rushed across the room to give Lia one more hug. She stopped him in his tracks and pecked his cheek.
“Thank you for the flowers!,” Lia said hurriedly, “I truly love them! And thank you for coming! I know it was—.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”
“Aw,” Jimin added from the tiny hall.
She was blushing, she was sure.
“Good luck!,” he said.
“I love you!”
The words just poured out of her mouth like petals, easily, and his eyes sparkled at them.
“And thank you too, Jimin!”
Jimin came back to drag Taehyung out of the dressing room for real.
Lia pulled Taehyung in for a quick hug one last time before he was ushered away. His cologne hit her senses like a truck one more time.
“Sure! Happy to see you! See you after. You—”
He clasped Taehyung by the arm as he hurried to send her a flying kiss before he disappeared through the door, both men giggling like idiots.
. . .
The show was a blur.
A blur of colors apricot and tangerine and cantaloupe and punch. Like the flower installations hanging and swiveling and swaying all around the café. Like the bouquet waiting in the other room. Like the afternoon colors gleaming in the sky above the garden.
A blur of songs about sunflowers and easy love and a little million reasons to fall in love with someone.
A blur of carnations and petal lips and bear hugs and hands cradling her face.
She was ecstatic, and it had truly been one of her favorite shows until then. In part for the occasion, their repertoire, of course, but mostly due to the surprise. A fever dream.
All throughout the show she had glanced at the little low lit corner where he was, on the other side of the garden, and she couldn't help to feel that if she blinked, he would disappear in a heartbeat. But he didn’t.
He had come.
A blur of words he’d said two weeks ago started echoing inside her mind.
But I will make time for you. If that’s what you’re asking.
He’d made time. He came.
I’ll try every time I can.
He had the chance to come, and he took it.
I will always pull through for you because I believe this is worth it.
All she’d asked was for him to care, and she would be there, no grudges to promises he couldn’t make nor keep. She didn’t expect… this. She didn’t expect this level of commitment (though it’s also called having money, cause those private jets sure ain’t cheap, you kno—shut up, Lia).
Here he was, coming through. Here he was on the first of many times where he would show her he cared. He had stayed true to those words, those little promises.
And so he would continue to do. That was what they would grow to have, an easy love, like the drip drop of water off old tile roofs after a monsoon.
She could see now the place he had made for her in the equation of his life.
And fireworks burst inside her chest.
Thus they said farewell to winter and welcomed spring.
New beginnings.
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Masterlist
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All chapters: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7 — Chapter 8 — Chapter 9 — Chapter 10 — Chapter 11 — Chapter 12 — Chapter 13 — Chapter 14 — Chapter 15 — Chapter 16 — Chapter 17 — Chapter 18 — Chapter 19 — Chapter 20 — Chapter 21 — Chapter 22 — Chapter 23 — Chapter 24 — Chapter 25 — Chapter 26 — Chapter 27 — Update on Part 2 — Part 2 Preview
#bts#bts fanfic#bts fluff#taehyung fanfic#taehyung fluff#taehyung#taehyung x ofc#taehyung x oc#v#v fluff#v x oc#v x ofc#bts jazz#bts slow burn#bts idol au#bts coffee shop au#bts x ofc#coffee shop au
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sink, m | jjk
you left your hair tie, battin’ those eyes
by the sink, you leave ‘em behind
think I know why
– 'hair tie' by ØZI
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; friends-with-benefits going downhill thanks to shitty communication; smut (fem reader, f and m-receiving oral, heavy petting, m-masturbation, ball spanking, spit kink, breath kink, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS – fuckboy?Jungkook x rock fan!reader tired of his shit XD inspired by the song above and ofc I referenced 'Too Much' ;)
--
You left your hair tie by my sink again.
Oh, shit, my bad. I’ll pick it up next time I’m over. :)
You left him on read.
Went back to brushing your teeth, looking down on the clear hair tie by your sink. It was one of those squiggly ones that were meant to not leave ceases in the hair. Not one of those that could easily be secured on the wrist. He must have taken it out right after. Well. He had needed it. You would have opened the window to get that cool night air, but Jeon Jungkook was loud when he was fucking.
Hm.
He sweat a lot when he was fucking. All over his back and chest, his skin glistening in the rainbow starlight generated by your mood lamp. You didn’t really care if the lights were on or off. He liked mood lighting, so he bought it and left it in your room so he could turn it on when he wanted to turn you on. Always tried to act all cool about it, as if you didn’t know exactly what he wanted when he hit you up. As if he actually needed to talk to you in-person about the latest installment of the Marvel universe.
Uh huh.
Somehow your back had ended up against his chest. Somehow his mouth had ended up by your neck and somehow his hand had ended up sliding under your shirt. Can’t stay too late, he always said. Same lines to the same old story. You half-scoffed into the mirror, switching sides of your teeth. The same routine, accidentally knocking the light switch, somehow knowing exactly where in your nightstand the remote for the mood lighting was, and then it was clothes on the floor. Your hand around his wrist and your hot breath by his ear, the fuck you think you’re doing?
“What? Too much?” he had replied with a smirk.
The shit Jeon Jungkook pulled.
Fuck it.
The hair tie must have been because he had planned to eat you out today. Precautions. He was better at it this time than the last. It wasn’t that his black hair was excessively long. A good amount simply fell past his ears when he leaned forward and, between your thighs, it stuck when he sweat. You might have lightly complained about it last time. Jungkook was self-conscious enough to remember and pull back the upper half of his hair before showing up at your doorstep. His own damn fault since he liked to plant his hands on your ass and drag you forward into his face, strong tongue consistently and firmly pressed to your clit and looking up at you with those round dark brown eyes of his. He had been trying to tease you but you saw right through him.
“A little higher up,” you had gently prompted.
The simmering waves danced through your veins as soon as he obeyed. Your hand had eventually found the back of his head. Crowning touch and locking your hips, feeling your slickness press against his lower lip and chin. The thought of your juices smeared into his double lip rings. Your tense thighs pressed into his jaw and cheeks. His long fingers sinking into the full curve of your ass.
The ghost of imprinted fingertips lingering on your skin.
You leaned over the sink bowl and spit out foam.
Jungkook had been truly annoying about it from the start. Needed to know that he was the best you had ever had. First kiss was an accident in the way that accidents don’t really happen. The kind of accident that was you getting into his face after he called you at three twenty-four in the morning and ordering you to stay on the line so he didn’t drunkenly pass out while walking home on a night out. He had even thrown up in some poor neighbor’s flowerbed mid-walk. The next day you had gone over to his place with take-out food and an annoyed attitude, confronting him after he had groggily brushed his teeth, smelling his minty breath as you scolded him that he was too old for this shit, right next to his bathroom sink.
Jungkook’s dark brown eyes had given you this look.
And you immediately knew how this was going to play out.
The kiss was to get you off my case, he said.
But.
“But… would you do it again?”
You rinsed your mouth out and applied your lip balm.
Not seeing yourself in the mirror, but instead seeing your shocked face from back then, squeezed between his bare arms and tasting the mint of his breath, strands of his black hair against your face. You remembered the way he smelled. Like warm, crystal-clear rain. The residual notes of cologne. You had found it later on his dresser. A square glass bottle.
Calvin Klein, Euphoria for men.
Strange, you had smelled that scent on other men before but he never smelled as good as it did on Jeon Jungkook.
But he did this shit all the time. A little kiss here. A little kiss there. Loved to disappear and pop up at just the right time when you were thinking about him and suddenly you were alone with exploring hands and a smiling mouth, is it too much, and you would reply in your most unfazed tone, shut the fuck up. He would promise he wasn’t fucking around but also he wouldn’t stick around either. You didn’t chase him but also you would blow his mind every time. Like that one instance where he had thrown himself into the wall and wheezed for air after you non-stop sucked him off for three orgasms straight, only stopping because you were done swallowing.
“Fuck… How does your mouth always get me hard so fast, f-fuck…”
“Told you not to question me,” was your calm reply as you wiped your lip with the heel of your palm.
There was no way that you were going to tell Jeon Jungkook that he was driving you insane with his behavior. Maybe he really wanted you to be the one to say it. But you weren’t going to, not with his constant, too much or next time or his stupid non-accidental leaving of his hair tie by your sink. He had shirts and sweatpants left behind in your apartment, just in case. The scent of Euphoria for men lingering on your bedsheets for a few hours, but it would disappear before the morning.
Just like him.
You knew Jungkook didn’t like it that you never tried to stop him from leaving.
“If you have to go, you have to go.”
If he wanted to, he would.
You left the bathroom, holding your phone loosely.
-
Jeon Jungkook looked up at the ceiling and wondered if she would let him love her the way he did.
He had a sinking feeling.
It started in the way that all accidents don’t happen. His finger hovering over her name in his contacts one too many times. More than one of those drunk times actually pressing it and then immediately ending the call. And then a single one of those extra drunk times not hanging up when she answered at the second ring. The fuck was she doing up at three in the morning anyway? His drunk brain was too over the moon to care though. His impulses uninhibited and his mouth going off before his brain could keep up.
Then promptly informing her that he needed to vomit and throwing up in some random flowerbed.
Not one of Jungkook’s best moments.
For some reason, she hadn’t completely written him off for that. Both a good thing and bad thing. A good thing because at least that didn’t disgust her. A bad thing because it made him fall in love a little harder. Then she had showed up on his doorstep the next morning with breakfast and looking like a million bucks. She looked too beautiful with tousled hair and that stern kindness. Even her lips moving as she chided him, you are not a kid anymore, you’re an adult, they looked so soft and inviting and she didn’t back away from he leaned in.
His head hurt like hell but he did it.
Her perfume was sweet and smokey and addictive.
He could still remember the feeling of her hand on his chest. Only thin white jersey separating him from those five fingertips. What are you doing? It was his fault. She put him on the spot and he couldn’t admit it fast enough. Getting you off my case. She shoved him and he laughed it off, setting a precedence that he couldn’t stop. No.
Didn’t.
“But… would you do it again?”
She had scoffed at him.
“Let’s see if you’re brave enough to meet me after dark when you’ve got a clearer head. Bye.”
There was something in that expression that dared him. Something in her body language that he couldn’t get out his head. Word on the street was don’t fuck around and find out, so Jungkook did precisely what any man would do when encountered with that information.
He fucked around and found the fuck out.
“Hey, now.”
Shit, her ass had looked so damn good in those black leather pants.
“You think I don’t know what you’re doing, punk?”
He had never met a better tongue. And her breath. He had begged her to breathe on him before. Hot and heavy like his heart, over his neck and chest and down his abs, warming the line of spit made by her wicked tongue. Unseen marks that stayed in his mind when he closed his eyes, looking down to her sensual stare, locking eyes with him as her tongue curled around the swollen head of his cock. Didn’t even need to look. So fucking hot. There was magic in that mouth. He never knew what to expect next but it was always exactly what he wanted. Soft and tight. Rough and deep. Warm tongue that curled around his girth and pressed him into the ridges, driving him insane with the sensations and the pressure.
If he had ever wanted anyone else, he had already forgot about them.
Jungkook refused to believe that she fucked anyone but him with that kind of vigor. She would place her palms on the headboard and ram her hips into him like he owed her goddamn rent. Pussy squeezing him all around. Dripping down his balls, sticking to his inner thighs. She would throw her hair back and grin after she blew his mind, sure, I can go again, like it was no big deal even though his chest was about to burst. He must be special.
Right?
He had brought a hair tie with him last night so his hair would stop sticking to his face.
He needed a haircut.
It made him so mad that she wouldn’t take the bait. She would corner him before he had his trap set and then he would balk under her stare, lips to lips to avoid saying anything. Hand to skin. Lips to his jaw, tongue playing with his earrings.
He just didn’t know.
Jungkook rolled in his bed, wishing it was her body beside his.
Stay away. She was a nightmare dressed like a daydream, everyone said. Road to ruin, everyone said. He didn’t care about that shit but he could feel the distance. Even between naked bodies and tongue to tongue, Jungkook got the feeling that she was never going to need him and that pissed him off. Was that stubbornness? Yeah. But wasn’t she being stubborn too by not giving in to what was so clearly there?
He had pulled the hair tie out and put it by the faucet, rinsing off his face to clear his head.
I’m not gonna stay if she doesn’t make me, he had said to himself, using her soft white hand towel to wipe his face. Looked at himself in the mirror and remembered that morning when she had come up behind him, yanking his shoulder and telling him he was too old for this shit. He wished she had done the same thing to him last night too.
But she hadn’t.
The sinking feeling persisted.
He texted back and he would get the hair tie next time. Next time. But she was pulling away and he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t like it. It made him irritated. It made him think he didn’t need this. It made him think he didn’t want anyone else because he was addicted to her now.
And.
It made him sad.
He looked to see if she had replied and of course she hadn’t. Reached back and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside with a click of his tongue. Needed a shower. Needed to wash her memory off his mind. Maybe make an effort to call his friends and go out tonight.
Jungkook got up from his bed, holding onto his phone.
-
People were scared to be messy these days. But not you. The world was always going to be chaos. The only way to be in control of it was to be at the center.
Or start it.
You liked to be alone and you liked to be alone amongst people. The kind of feeling most people dreaded. You slid in deeper, deeper into the crowd, caged by body heat and bated breath. The world was darkness alight with neon points. The thundering bass traveling up from the floor seized the heart, threatening to stop it. A steady, continuous beat before the chaos. The other audience members where whispering amongst themselves in the dark. And there you were, standing in the vacuum of space surrounded by universes abound, and you the black hole, catching bits and pieces of their excited conversations, passively devouring in their palpable anticipation.
The music started.
The mosh pit came alive.
You had earplugs to prevent permanent damage for your dangerous pastime. Drums and guitar and guttural vocals. Bodies on the floor and leaning up against yours, even jostling you, but you paid it no mind, licking your teeth and letting the vicious, subline energy burn through you. It was hard to think about anything else. The band was alternative rock but they occasionally covered heavier songs live which was a real treat for your nostalgia.
A phase you never grew out of, heh.
You headbanged along and thankfully the hair tie kept the majority of your hair away from your face.
Not that it would have really mattered here. The concert was a psychedelic and everyone here was under the influence, lost in their own high, too deep into each song, reliving old memories and creating new ones. No one would care if you were sweaty. Everyone was sweating. Still, even with the mesh cutouts on the thighs, you probably shouldn’t have worn these leather pants. Now it was becoming disturbingly hot and you were really hoping adrenaline could make you forget about it. At least you had opted for a mesh long-sleeve shirt and loose crop top with the band’s logo on your upper half. Plus, you learned from last time – a skimpy black swimsuit top under instead of a bra.
Moisture-wicking, check.
“Nice jewelry.”
“Thanks,” was your quick reply between songs. They were talking about your tangle of silver bracelets and chain necklaces, you assumed. You did not really want to engage anyone too much. Rock bands tended to attract a lot of unsavory men. You never knew who you were amongst unless you trusted too much, so it was better to be distant and vigilant.
You tensed during the interlude as the band took a break.
“Are you by yourself? Me too.”
It was years of unfortunate experience that made you relax, because now you could tell the difference between someone you could hurt and someone that could hurt you. You didn’t check your phone when it vibrated while you spoke to the man who approached you. You could feel it and your cardholder practically glued to your hip in these tight leather pants. You weren’t going to get pickpocketed without a fight. But that wasn’t what this was. The guy was calm. Young face with an oddly wise aura. Seemed a little nervous. He was cute in a shy way.
Reminded you of someone.
Intimidating with his broad shoulders and all-black fit. Black hair swept over his forehead and soft dark eyes so large that they reminded you of boba pearls. You got him to smile easily. He had a brilliant, stunning smile. Apparently, he was supposed to meet a date and they flaked on him. It could have been a fabricated story, but he seemed genuine in the way he described it. Since he had already paid, he had decided to stick around. Noticed you because, unlike everyone else tightly packed in their groups, you thrashed alone. He said he was surprised that you had come alone. Even more surprised when you clarified that you had wanted to come alone.
“Well, big bad lone wolves like me can protect timid chipmunks like you, hm?” you joked.
After all, the world didn’t stop revolving just because Jeon Jungkook didn’t try hard enough.
That made him laugh and you let him enjoy the night with you. Even without knowing someone deeply, there was just something about enjoying music together that was its own intense experience. Bonded by bass and beating hearts, by the winded lightheadedness of whipping your heads too hard, by melodies that reminded you of darker times that made you stronger now, strong enough to be alone and casually with another, impulsively letting this strange wrap his arms around your legs and lift you so you could blow your lungs out and go hoarse during the last song.
You didn’t even feel your phone vibrate again because the bass was too fucking intense.
You bounced off that broad shoulder as the lights went down, laughing manically, electricity still simmering in your veins.
“I always wanted to do that.”
“Glad I could help,” the handsome stranger was chuckling. “You’re insane.”
It was, and you took it as such, a compliment.
You didn’t see Jeon Jungkook’s double text until you pulled out your phone to get this guy’s number.
Hey.
I see you.
A strange feeling. But you did as you intended and broke away, not lingering as the rest of the crowd filed out. You weren’t sure if this annoyed new guy, and at the moment you didn’t really care. Life, after all, was not a fairy tale. You wouldn’t have linked up tonight anyway, with or without Jungkook’s texts. The concert had been set in was a small venue next to a bar. People were either going through the side door or through the bar to keep the night going. You also followed towards the bar because you needed to get to the main street to get to the train.
If Jungkook had seen you, he must have brought tickets as well.
You hadn’t thought to even ask him.
You texted back.
You still see me?
Yeah.
You raised your eyebrows at the immediate answer, breaking out the crowd and moving towards the wall. You didn’t, however, look up. You weren’t about to give that satisfaction. Checked the time and the train schedule. Hm. You debated on whether or not to entertain this bullshit.
You look really good. Love your hair like that.
It took effort to not roll your eyes. Thing is, he could just approach you right now. The crowd was thinning out, but you ignored everybody and stayed glued to your phone. The only reason he wasn’t, then, was because he must be with others, which meant for some reason he didn’t want them to know that he was talking to you right now.
And.
That shit really pissed you off.
You cocked an eyebrow.
Come get your hair tie.
One of those times where you actually wanted to be left on read.
But he disappointed you.
Your place or mine?
You stuck your tongue in your cheek and dropped your hand, shoving your phone into your leather pants. Didn’t bother looking around. Just started walking out the door, thinking about the fastest route to the train station. Huh. Twenty-first century and Jeon Jungkook was out here thinking only guys like him could be fuckboys. You pushed through the smoked glass, out into the cool night and bustling street lit up with streetlamps and neon signs. Maybe you should have followed that stranger tonight. No. Deep down, you knew this wasn’t right. You shook your head at no one, whipping your hair about your shoulders, and began your brisk walk, Jeon Jungkook on your brain.
Fucking idiot.
-
He realized it too late.
The top of her hair had been pulled back, half-up, half-down, with wisps of bangs around her face, and he recognized those black leather pants, damn, her ass looks so good, and then he still didn’t get it as her shoulders slumped. She completely ignored his reply, walking out instead.
Ten minutes and then it hit him.
Come get your hair tie.
Fuck.
“Sorry, guys, I gotta go.”
“What? Why? Did something happen?”
“Yup, bye.”
“Yah, Jeon–”
He didn’t even wait to hear his name being called, instead jumping over the chairs in haste and one beat away from running, just now realizing how fucking stupid he was. His heart fluttering as he knew a little piece of him was with her, but he was also mad. One of his friends had suggested the concert thing earlier tonight, and they had arrived late, staying in the back with their beers and enjoying the music. It had been a small, dark venue, but it suited the band and their heavy sound. Jungkook thought he had been going a little crazy, thinking about her all night with a drink in his hand, so crazy that he thought he had seen her silhouette towards the front. Thought he recognized that flying hair and rocking shoulders, but, no way, right? Then that same girl was lifted onto a shoulder and bouncing with her hand held high.
Devil horns and everything.
Whoever it was tipped her head back and Jungkook swore he recognized that back and those body proportions. Then her hoarse voice entered the meld of screams and instruments and boosted bass.
And he knew.
She was with someone.
Someone that wasn’t him.
He wanted to remind her. Remind her it was him that held her last night, remind her it was his mouth between her legs and his hands on her ass, but mostly he just wanted to remind himself. He wanted to know who it was that she was with but she had emerged from the doors alone. Weird. It made him feel a little better though. Selfish, Jungkook knew, but so he was. He had stayed were he was, at a table with his friends, out of her sight, but she didn’t even look up. Really. She was willing to make him feel all kinds of fucked up and not willing to even look the fuck up.
Okay.
Come get your hair tie.
Yeah, okay. Okay, she wanted to use him. Fine. Fine, he was cool with that. But she left him on read. In fact, he watched her not look back and leave. Wow. And then it hit him and now he was running in the night, past flooding pools of light and wishing to catch a glimpse of mesh sleeves or black leather pants or even those heavy black boots with silver metal heel. Now he was throwing himself onto the train and trying to remember which one was her stop, wondering why he didn’t see the invitation for what it was. Now time was a thief stealing away the perfect moment and he was chastising himself for not chasing that feeling that he wasn’t so sure about.
-
You pulled the clear hair tie out of your ponytail. The squiggly kind that was meant not to leave ceases in the hair. The strands still ended up wild from the headbanging and the windy night. You ran your fingers through it haphazardly, annoyed when your fingers caught a snag. Scowling at your bathroom mirror as you untangled the strands and wondered why the fuck you ever let Jeon Jungkook get in your brain and drive you insane.
Fuck it.
Fuck him.
Your body was still on a high from the concert. Nerves alight, senses simulated, emotions caught in a rollercoaster. You yanked your clear earplugs out and cleaned them off in your bathroom sink, patting them dry with your hand towel and leaving them next to the hair tie.
You looked down at it.
Should throw it away.
Your hand reached out and then there were three loud thumps at your apartment door.
You jerked and backtracked, surrounded by no light except for the one from the bathroom. It was a short walk. You had to step past your heavy black boots, careful not to stub your toe on the metal heel, and peered through the peephole, seeing a large dark brown eyeball because Jeon Jungkook was too damn close to your door.
You yanked it open.
“The fuck–”
And froze.
He was panting, slightly hunched over. Wearing a black racer jacket with white stripes. It lay half off one shoulder, exposing the black tank top underneath and a peek of his right arm tattoos. Slate blue jeans with slight rips on one knee and black boots, but none of that made you stop and stare, not even his furrowed brow and annoyed expression.
“You cut your hair,” you beathed.
It was fresh. Sides cut short, with the top layer long enough to touch his brows. Currently half swept back, probably from running around. A few strands fell by his dark eyes, additional shadows to this harrowed tension. You backed up. He stepped in, one hand catching the doorframe.
Jungkook glared at you and you felt none of that fake frostiness.
“Yeah, I had a hair appointment today,” he huffed. “I didn’t come for the damn hair tie.”
It was all piling together. The moments of hands around each other’s waist, around his wrist, around his hard cock with his low voice in your ear. Don’t stop. The things unsaid and not said. The nights with him and the mornings without him. Backing away from Calvin Klein’s Euphoria still clinging to your sheets. Alone. The music of your youth, hard and rough and full of anger. The strength of a stranger and the cold air of the night, and suddenly you felt alive, alive and needing answers and fucking pissed off at all the shit Jeon Jungkook pulled.
You let him in your apartment, but not in your space.
“How did you know where I was going to be?” you accused.
The door fell shut.
Jungkook cocked his head. Dark eyes finding yours, cornering you with his gaze. You locked stares and did not back down. “Where else you gonna go but home?” he shot back.
You narrowed your own eyes and didn’t bite your tongue.
“How would a guy like you know what home even means?”
-
Goddamn, the one always knew how to hit him where it hurt.
He stopped moving forward.
But his heart was racing fast, remembering all the moments piling together. Lips to lips, hips to hips, and how tightly she held him, as if she wasn’t going to let him go. Not falling for any of the traps he set but drawing him closer and closer each time with that look in her eyes. Alone. Trying to forget how it felt to be held by her even through it was the most secure he had ever been.
Thinking about it now, maybe too much.
His voice wavered in the darkness between them.
“But, would you do it again?”
She paused at his question. Those eyes seemed a little less shadowy, a little less space between them but only for this second. Kept her hands by her sides though, not reaching out to him.
“How much of this was a lie?” she quietly asked.
He answered honestly.
“None of it.”
She scrutinized him. He stayed an open book. Mostly because he didn’t know any other way to cover up except run, can’t stay too late, didn’t know what was the right thing to do when clearly he had done so much wrong, didn’t know how this was going to end but Jungkook damn well knew this was gonna fuck him up for his whole life.
Silence.
That sinking feeling.
“You have time to spend?” she finally asked.
-
“Yeah.”
Must be a dream.
You closed the distance, trying to stay awake, watching his eyes. Waiting for Jungkook to run, as he did so many times before. He always had somewhere to be that wasn’t here. Following his dark brown eyes, the memory of his taste on your tongue, breathing in the clean scent of Euphoria, closer, body heat radiating off him, and Jungkook bit his lip, causing the two silver lip rings to catch what little light there was, like punctured stars in the darkness between you and him.
His lashes lowered.
You looked at him, unfazed.
Raised your hand.
Placed five fingertips on his black top. Thin jersey fabric between skin to skin, and you walked them up his chest, staring into the windows of his soul to find the truth. Your lips formed his name, but made no sound. His own followed suit, breathing your name under a tense exhale, not yet moving, shivering as your middle finger traced his chain necklace.
“You never have time to spend,” you murmured, your breath against his jaw.
He lowered his head, gaze flickering away. Then back, mumbling even though he meant it.
“I’m sorry.”
You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head.
Opened your mouth to chastise him, but all that came out was an exasperated chuckle.
“Don’t do it again.”
You pressed your lips against his.
Jungkook stole your breath and sank into you.
Your hand pressed into his chest and his arms slid around your waist. His fingers splayed out under your crop top, pressing the slinky micro-mesh against your skin and sending a tingling sensation up your spine. He tasted like haste and hunger. Warmth spreading out, squeezing your torso between leather-covered arms, gasping when your tongue flickered against his lips. Slow. Teasing. Dragging it out. Your other hand slid under his jacket, grasping the small of his waist and digging your nails in. He winced, a small whimper, then tried to cover it up by pulling back slightly, but your tongue remained, sliding out further between his open lips.
Your eyes cracked open to see Jungkook’s lashes flutter, his hot moan warming your lips.
“F… Fuck…”
Your tongue retreated.
Exhaled, giving it the weight that made it drift over his neck and chin. He sucked in a sharp inhale, opening his eyes too. A stand-off. His thighs pressed against your thighs. His erection was straining, even in his jeans. You traced your tongue around the perimeter of your lips, seeing him track the movement with bated breath, smiling slightly as his cock twitched.
He narrowed his eyes. “Can you not?”
You cocked one shoulder, smirking with the tip of your tongue at the edge of your teeth. “Why?”
The faintest of eye rolls. “You don’t suck my dick unless I shower first. And I haven’t showered yet.”
“That really sucks,” you hummed.
With just the correct about of intonation hat you had no sympathy. Especially since your hand was sliding over his ass to follow the line of his hip and then further down, hooking your thumb over the waistband of his jeans and molding your other four fingers around the unforgiving bulge. You heard him bite back a sound, pressing his biceps against you in warning, but you merely smiled, leaning forward to graze your lips against his cheek and jaw.
His cock pulsed strongly in your grip as you whispered into his ear.
Low and hot.
“That really sucks.”
Jungkook made a noise between a whimper and a growl.
But you didn’t care, pressing your breasts against his muscular chest. You knew he could feel your lack of bra through the layers of fabric, the confusion spreading over his facial features as you backed up. There was something there, his brain was working that out, but the swimsuit fabric was thin and your hard nipples were large enough for him to barely feel if he really flexed his pecs.
You unbuttoned his jeans.
He didn’t stop you because he would be crazy to.
The tension so tight that neither of you were breathing.
You grinned.
And yanked his underwear and jeans down at the same time.
You probably wouldn’t have tried this shit if it was someone else. Jungkook was habitual creature. The kind where he kept a small tube of hand sanitizer on him at all times, and you would catch him using it all the time, so absentmindedly that it seemed to have become second nature. He would do it after getting off the train. Walking aimlessly. Standing at your front door as you opened it, rubbing his hands together and directly looking at you, cocking an eyebrow.
The first time you noticed this action you thought he was being a creep before you realized it was hand sanitizer he was putting back into his pocket. He was not, in fact, imitating eccentric cartoon villain behavior. Had you in the first half, not gonna lie.
“What?”
It had been a pointed what at that time.
This time it was a sexually charged and gravelly, “What…?”
You squatted down and took his right hand, turning it palm up. Opened your mouth and drenched saliva all over his palm and fingers, the clean citrus scent of his hand sanitizer hitting your nose, hearing him hiss and feeling him tense. The tendons of his wrist stood out, black ink of his tattoos creeping out under the sleeve of the leather jacket. Your tongue lingered against the texture of his calluses along the top of his palm.
Guess he had been working out his frustrations.
“F-Fuck!”
You wrapped his spit-covered hand around his stiff length. Instinct and arousal and the slippery, tight, pleasurable sensation beat out any protest he had about what was happening, firmly and quickly jacking himself off right in front of your face. You calmly watched the glossy, swollen head pop in and out between his tightened fingers. All colors were desaturated due to the dark apartment. Didn’t matter. You had seen it enough times to know what he looked like.
You looked up.
Jungkook was looking down, gasping, the visible strain making his shoulders tremble. Jaw clenched, dark irises glassy, you’re so fucking pretty, shit, and you stuck out your tongue, enjoying the power. He shuddered, gripping himself tighter. Using your left hand, you hooked a thumb under the hem of your shirts, pushing them up, up, over your barely-covered breasts, revealing your hard nipples straining against the tiny black bikini top.
Those large brown eyes went wide, his lips parting.
“Oh, fuck…”
You used your right hand to shove the thin fabric away, scooping your breasts closer together to give him a good view, securing your left hand against your shoulder, easily holding the bunched-up fabric. Grinned, not hiding how pleased you were at his reaction. You lowered your right knee to the ground, stabilizing yourself.
And, now that your right hand was free, you reached forward and smacked his balls.
His black hair whipped in the air as his head snapped back, moaning sharply at the sudden impact. You slapped them again, and again. It was slightly slick from your own spit. Fast and firm. Not hard, since Jungkook hadn’t quite expressed the level he wanted yet, but then his head fell forward, erratic gasps and pupils blown out, squeezing the head of his cock hard, his entire body shaking.
“Harder,” he groaned out, depraved and deep.
You did as you were told, smacking harder and spreading out the hit over the entire area, keeping yourself exposed for him.
“Fuck… f-fuck…”
It was loud, lewd, and wet. His hand moving fast, and your fingertips repeatedly punishing his balls, his hips shaking in ecstasy. The scent of sex mixing with his crisp cologne, deliciously dirtying it. He turned his hand so it was palm up, knuckles down. You spat on his closed fingers and Jungkook moaned even louder, tipping his head back, sweat glistening along his throat.
Spit dripping down.
A bit of a mess, truly.
His head snapped back, fucked-out gaze, his voice rough and hoarse.
“Can… Can you breathe on me…?”
You leaned forward and parted your lips. Keeping eye contact, sliding your tongue out, and exhaled. Slow, heavy, saturated with warmth, leisurely drifting over his fast, tight grip on his hard cock. His eyes squeezed shut, drawn-out groan thundering in his chest. You did it again and his eyes opened, rolling back slightly, his lashes fluttering. You increased the pressure on his balls. The sharp smacks getting louder, wet thrusts, sensual sighs mixing with his desperate whine, and Jungkook tipped his hips down, fixated on watching himself cum onto your tongue and down your throat.
Hot, thick streaks.
You tilted your head back, drinking his orgasm down as you locked eyes with him, electric bliss simmering through your veins. His short black hair was damp with sweat. The strange feeling came back again, somewhere between a dream and reality, yet unmistakable clarity.
Fuck.
You were both sinking.
Shit.
-
“Don’t stop.”
To be honest, Jungkook didn’t like missionary for the sheer reason that she was too damn powerful in this position. Face too damn pretty. Tits too damn perfect. Legs on his shoulders letting him get too damn deep, soft thighs against his hard abs, pussy clenching around every centimeter of his length and not letting up, her hips smacking up every time he thrust down. Okay. It just felt too fucking good. It was a damn problem. He had to grind his teeth and fuck hard so he could slow down and not cum too fast. One would think the second orgasm would be difficult to reach, but one would be fucking wrong. His was rock-hard once she was naked and even harder when she dipped her fingers into her wet pussy to smear her juices over the throbbing head of his cock before he rolled the condom down.
“Are you a virgin or what – fuck!”
She was giving him that smug smirk of hers.
It both pissed him off and made him so damn happy.
A bitch faking it would be imitating shitty porn right now. That was why he never did missionary with any other women before her. It just made him limp. Better it hit it from the back and not have to look at their faces.
God, she was so fucking pretty.
“Always a virgin, only for you,” she snickered.
“I feel so fucking special,” Jungkook growled back, emphasizing each word by pounding her into the mattress.
He did, though.
Somewhere between dream and reality. That strange feeling as he watched her hands grip her pillows, her features softening as she fell into the pleasure, smacking her hips into his, their breathless moans blending together, primal harmony, and he knew he was well and truly fucked because instead of only drowning in the physical sensations of shoving his cock into that tight, wet hole, Jungkook was thinking about how he would wake up and bury his face in her hair the next morning, inhaling the scent of her sweet and smokey perfume, hoping other people could smell her on him, thinking about how lovely it would be to look over and see those eyes roaming over his face, every day and every night.
Well.
Shit.
She clenched around him particularly hard and Jungkook snapped out of his daydream.
Back into his lustful nightdream.
“Harder,” she hissed out, narrowing her eyes.
He was going to gasp, fuck you, but he was doing that already and there was no time to think because she sank lower into the mattress, angling her hips ever-so-slightly, and it was so deep, so good, so tight, losing his mind. Sweat dripping down his chest. He tucked his head back, trying not to get it all over her, bending his elbows and locking his muscles, driving his back and hips into his thrust, bending her in half and neither of them could breathe, closer, clawing up to the high, fast and intense and coiling tight in his chest, sinking down, down, deep down.
Airless.
His orgasm crashed into him so hard that his arms almost gave out.
“Fuck, Jungkook!”
He was sure that the noise that came out of him was not one he wanted to be self aware of. Something between a choked groan and whining moan, lost in the pulsating walls shivering against his jerking cock, wave after wave burning through him. The high seared him like electricity and the aftermath was layers of sparks building over his skin, tingling nerves and forgetting about anything else, suspended in this feeling.
Then his muscles screamed from fatigue and Jungkook realized his back was alarmingly sweaty.
“A… ah, hah…”
She plucked the white hand towel from her nightstand and flung it over his shoulder, falling back into the pillows and gasping.
He was in the middles of wiping his face before he realized that she didn’t have a towel there the first time he came over. But a towel was always there every other time he had showed up after. Either white or dark gray. Always fluffy. He looked down. Her eyes were closed, her pants slowing down to heavy breaths. She hadn’t been looking at him during his epiphany.
She smacked his arm for a second time before he realized she was trying to get his attention.
“Put my legs down, damn…”
“Oh, shit, right…”
It took him a moment to untangle himself. She went to the bathroom, as she usually did. Their clothes were all over the floor. Leather pants. Mesh shirt. The bathing suit top. Panties. His tank top. Black boxer briefs. His jacket and jeans were out there somewhere in the hall outside the bedroom. He noticed a pair of folded gray sweatpants and white shirt sitting on the corner of her room, randomly atop a low bookshelf. He had put them there a week ago. Just in case. She hadn’t moved it.
Jungkook breathed out.
He patted his temple.
I’m in idiot.
Then vigorously dried his hair.
The feeling came back when it was his turn to clean up in the bathroom and he saw his clear hair tie by her sink. A little tangled up from use, next to a pair of clear earplugs. He should probably check his phone and tell his friends that he was fine, but it was somewhere out there in his jeans and Jungkook wasn’t going to go hunting for it right now.
He went back to the bedroom.
Damn, she was so stunning even simply lying in bed. Her gray duvet was only covering her lower half, her forearm draped over her eyes. Amazing breasts. He took a moment to ogle them, perfect nipples and all.
“Stop staring at my tits.”
Well, shit.
She raised her arm and cocked her eyebrow at him.
Not saying anything, but the message came across quite clear.
Jungkook draped the hand towel over his shoulder and picked up the gray sweatpants from the bookshelf, yanking them over his legs before looking up again. Those shadowed eyes were watching him carefully. Surprise but not quite believing. He left the t-shirt and dropped the towel onto the floor, walking over to the other side of the bed and throwing himself down onto the mattress, making her body bounce.
Side eye.
“What?”
He shrugged.
“I’m tired.”
She frowned at him.
“Oh, yeah?”
He nodded.
“Yeah.”
He used his elbows to scoot himself to the pillows, resting his chin on the backs of his hands to look down at her. Her eyes followed the sleeve of tattoos on his right arm. Down and then up. Observing his facial expression carefully.
“Can’t stay too late?” she whispered. Somewhere between a taunt and weariness.
It broke his heart a little, hearing his own words said back to him. He moved one hand and lifted her forearm from her brows, seeing more of her face now. The mood lighting was still on. Points of color dancing over the ceiling above them. They reflected in her eyes even as she faced him.
Jungkook could smell her perfume, soft and sweet and not yet clinging to his skin.
“Can I stay the night?”
Her eyes narrowed. “And why would you wanna to that?”
He shrugged, realizing now that it had never been a no.
“Boyfriends stay over at their girlfriends’ places sometimes. Free breakfast.”
She rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed.
“The shit you pull, Jeon Jungkook.”
He leaned down. Had to fight for the kiss. Hands on wrists. His chest pressed against her breasts. When their lips touched, he could feel her smiling, so Jungkook smiled too and kissed her deeply.
--
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stargirl | jude bellingham
pairing: bf!jude x secret!gf
content: social media au
summary: jude’s alleged girlfriend stirs up quite a storm when she’s seen everywhere but her own account
face claim: mariaisabel on ig
twitter…
instagram…
yourbestie
| madrid, spain
tagged: ynoninsta
liked by ynoninsta, judebellingham and 1,380 others
yourbestie two girls in a car on our way to her new ap 🚗
comments
ynoninsta making big money moves
| yourbestie dont forget about me gf 😿
| ynoninsta girl ur in the next room.
friend is this curtesy of her sugar daddy?
| ynoninsta pls dont make me laugh
| yourbestie yn is my sugar mother 😍
liked by ynoninsta
judebellingham4life JUDE?
twitter…
judebellingham has posted to their instagram story...
judebellingham
liked by ynoninsta and others
judebellingham recently 🏡
comments
tobyishay sexy guy
| judebellingham its the photography
jud3bellingold hold up who is taking these
| ilovemadrid LITCH?
| f4nt4sy jobe.
erling.haaland 😍
| judebellingham 🧏♂️
ynoninsta cute
liked by judebellingham
| judesbabymother everybody pause
| kissmegoodnighty get that girl from twitter a spot in the fbi
| luvbellinghams why is he liking this comment tf 🤨
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yourbestie
tagged: ynoninsta
liked by judebellingham and 6,569 others
yourbestie small dump before i leave my babygirl all alone:(((((
comments
friend she's spreading her wings 😥
| yourbestie from a caterpillar to a butterfly 🦋
| friend2 not alone she isn't 🤣
| ynoninsta stop this madness
halajudeb omg she's pretty...😔
ynoninsta the likes? u becoming an influencer
| yourbestie more like u becoming an alist celeb
| ynoninsta its so hard being me fr
liked by judebellingham
| jdeblling can this girl fight?
liked by ynoninsta
madridbetter she's actually not mid
jude_jobe_fan why is he liking her friends bikini pic???
| maisyyyyy girl grow up.
| gavdriluver because his gf is in it????? he doesn't even follow her friend.
twitter...
facebook...
twitter...
instagram...
jobebellingham
tagged: judebellingham, ynoninsta
liked by judebellingham, ynoninsta and others
jobebellingham spain is fun
comments
jobeforever the bellinghams looking too good
judebellingham is this a joke
| jobebellingham hey sleeping beauty
| judebellingham you've lost phone privileges
liked by ynoninsta
judesfootball jobe hardlaunching for jude is crazy
ynoninsta what is this 😐
| jobebellingham caught both of you slipping
| ynoninsta next time u put ur phone in my face ur not getting it back
liked by judebellingham, jobebellingham
| judebellingham he's grounded.
dailybellingham yn needs to unprivate her account i just want to talk
jobeandjude_bae is that jobes gf??
| bowsandpink make a twitter account pls
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twitter...
judebellingham has posted to their instagram story...
twitter...
instagram...
ynoninsta
song: 7 days - craig david
liked by judebellingham and others
ynoninsta hiiiiiii from me and my cat <3 (also the guy in the middle probably)
comments
jbcutie oh my god😮
| ynoninsta pls dont be scared lol 💞
| jbcutie ur so sweet omg 🥰
liked by ynoninsta
yourbestie when are you going hard launch me baby cakes
| judebellingham never
| yourbestie stay out of this
| ynoninsta can't hard launch u if we've been married for the last decade 😍
| judebellingham ?
judesluckycharm this is the girl....
| ynoninsta don't make me nervous is that good or bad?
| judesluckycharm omg u replied 🙊 its good girlllll
liked by ynoninsta
bellinghampics shes so cute ofc she has a cat🙄
| ynoninsta his name is coco and he's evil 😫
| judefits her replying to all the girlies 😇
judebellingham omg hey girlfriennn
| ynoninsta get out of my comments
| judebellingham 100k has got to your head
| ynoninsta thought i told u to scram
| judebellingham not even a tag btw
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judebellingham
song: sure thing - miguel
tagged: ynoninsta
liked by ynoninsta and others
judebellingham bts 🎥
comments
jobebellingham dont need to see ur faces more cat pls
| ynoninsta i've beeeeen saying
bellinghamlov3 omg im so happy for themmm!
| judesgfffff im not
ynoninsta wow cute ig
| judebellingham it's all me 💗 thanks though
| ynoninsta nvm.
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ynoninsta
tagged: judebellingham
liked by judebellingham, yourbestie and others
ynoninsta the REAL bts
comments
bellinghamvibes im all for her exposing jude LMFAO
yourbestie wtf is that
| ynoninsta dont be mean, his name is jude
| judebellingham uhhhh?
jb.xoxo ok they're pretty cute or whateverrrrr
jude_clips the wait was worth it
| judeshugs we need to pay an homage to that one girl on twitter honestly
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end.
angel's notes: if anybody comes for my photoshopping skills i will come for u. also don't look at the dates of anything they do not match up lol.
#jude bellingham#real madrid#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham x you#footballer imagine#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham blurb#jude bellingham headcanons#jude bellingham fluff#jude bellingham fic
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𓂋˚˖ IT’S A WRAP ! ૪ ࣪˖ 이희승﹙🐋﹚
SYN𝟬PSiS ꊥꊥ wrapping is easy when it comes to dumplings. but when it comes to your feelings…not so much. after getting separated from your childhood nemesis, lee heeseung, you think your life will go smooth like butter (js like what BTS sang). but fate has other plans when he was forced to help around in your family’s dumpling restaurant.
or in which 𓍯 heeseung only realizes how strong your influence is in his life after your recent departure for an exchange student program in japan. now that you’re back, he can’t bring himself wanting to let you go.
PART 2/2 OF THE LOVE LASTING DREAM SERIES
PAiRiNG ˖͢ non idol! lee heeseung x non idol! fem reader
GENRE ⃕˖ childhood enemies to lvrs, smau w written parts, romance, crack, slice of life, hs au
⚠️ curse words, angst, denial!!!, constant pining lol
FEATURiNG ⃕˖ enhypen, txt, chaewon (lesserafim)
status. discontinued 𖡋 oneshot ver
╰╮25 / 06 / 23 — tba
TAGLiST ˖͢ open ! send ask or comment to be added in ><
꒰ 🧾 ꒱ ÆRiN’S NOTES ! this is all a work of fiction & none of it is real! this smau is only for fun or laughs ykyk. this is also a spin-off of my niki smau here! u don’t hav to read it but js know rikiyn will make some cameos! (the yn here n there is different ofc)🥛 means there will be written parts !
⌗ PR𝟬FiLES ◜ ONE ◞ ◜ TWO ◞ ◜ THREE ◞
ıllı SiDE A
𝟢𝟢1. i don’t miss her
𝟢𝟢2. one thread hug
𝟢𝟢3. dream on, lee 🥛
𝟢𝟢4. climbing expert
𝟢𝟢5. mama lee supremacy
IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT
MORE — TBA !! ( titles may change )
© aernx / do not steal, copy, translate — hope you enjoy my works! and let me know if you have any suggestions ! my inbox is always open if u wanna talk !
nets ! @enhanet @hyfenet
#ꜜ 🥟 ꒰ it’s a wrap ! ꒱#enhypen x reader#enhypen smau#heeseung x reader#enhypen imagines#lee heesung x reader#enhypen#enhypen heeseung#enha x reader#enha smau#heeseung smau
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Seven Times I Hated Kim Seokjin: Ch 1
CHAPTER 1: "All I Can Taste is This Moment"
Chapters : 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05(M) | 06(M) | 07
MASTERLIST
Summary: I was living a perfectly, normal, mundane life.... So why in the HELL did Kim Seokjin walk into it and ruin it all for me???
Pairing: Idol!Jin x Female Reader
Rating: M (language and future sexual explicit scene)
Status: Complete
AN: With Jin's birthday around the corner, I had the inspiration to explore this story. The main character is mentioned in my other story, "In the Middle of the Night". In my mind, I already had her and Jin's story made up, so I decided to write a short story centered on them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is not where I wanted to be. This is not where I needed to be. I needed to be at my desk, behind my monitor going over my project that was due tomorrow afternoon. Sure, I had finished it last week and all I had been doing lately was going over it and rehearsing it at least 10x a day, but there was no such thing as too much practice. I wanted to be prepping for tomorrow, not here where I was wasting precious time.
Not here, in this dressing room assisting my younger cousin as she went over different patterns and colors and textures. She was lucky I was such a good cousin and absolutely adored her. She had been given a last-minute opportunity at her job to show herself. If this project went great, then it could open more doors for her.
Because it had been last minute, everyone in her department wasn't answering. There was a bug going around and most were out sick. My cousin really didn't have another choice other than to call me and my sister for help. We came from a family of seamstresses, so we were familiar with the world she worked in.
Long ago I had made the choice to walk a different pathway than my family. I wanted a name for myself. I wanted to establish credibility due to my own personal talent that had nothing to do with my family's tie to fashion. Yet, here I was, helping my cousin at a style fitting that I knew was going to take at least two hours. She had stated it was for a very important figure in her company and had mentioned his name to us—he was some idol from a group that was apparently a big deal. Shame I didn't follow Kpop. My preference for music leaned more toward British rock and pop, so I had no idea who this Kim guy was.
"Be warned, the guy is incredibly handsome. Will probably have you mesmerized," warned my cousin.
My sister laughed. "Be serious." My sister also wasn't into Kpop. She mostly listened to alternative music--even when she was younger. She never knew any of the boy groups her friends were always obsessed over.
"Fine. Don't believe me. But never say I didn't warn you."
My sister and I shared a look and rolled our eyes.
"And you're sure it's not going to take more than two hours," I said with a tone full of irritation.
My cousin sent me a glare. "You've gone over your presentation at least a hundred times by now. How many more practices do you need?"
"At least a hundred more," I snapped back, not missing a beat.
"Unni, you need to give yourself a break," my sister said gently. "It'll do you some good to do something else other than obsess over this project."
"Yeah, like going out, drinking, and having some fun," my cousin muttered as she went over the outfits for the 50th time in the last hour.
I felt offended by this. "I have fun!"
"Not lately, you don't," my cousin accused with a slight pout. "You don't go out for drinks anymore."
A slight bit of guilt crept through me, but I tried to push it down as I gave my reasoning. "What do you want me to do, sachon? I'm incredibly close to a promotion. There is a position getting ready to open and I need to show that I'm capable. I've been working hard and diligent for over a year to get this."
"You've been working there since you graduated from university years ago. They know your loyalty and hard work," my sister tried to reason.
"There is no way they have overlooked how much talent you have as well," my cousin added.
They were trying to be kind and supportive. But in my field, that just wasn't going to be enough. I had tried telling them this in the past, but they never listened.
"You get too stressed out, unni. You've prepared enough for this project. You'll be fine," insisted my sister.
"Yeah, we can go out for drinks later to relieve some of the pressure," my cousin said excitedly.
"No way—" I began.
My cousin and sister immediately began to demand why I would reject their invitation so quickly.
However, before things got too chaotic, the door swung open, and in walked a very tall and dark-haired young man. My manners turned on automatically and I immediately switched to my polite persona. Just as I was getting ready to bow, I noticed the young man bow to us first. My cousin, sister, and I properly greeted the young idol.
My cousin made her way closer to him and introduced us. She made it clear we didn't work for the company and that we were here to help her out. She apologized for her boss being out sick and promised to do her best for him.
He gave her a kind smile. "I'm positive you will do well." He turned to my sister and then me.
The moment we locked eyes, I felt my breath stop in my chest. My heart fluttered and my entire skin began to shiver. He had the most gorgeous face. His dark, brown eyes were a perfectly round shape. His lips were plump and thick. His cheekbones met his jawline at the perfect angle.... Damn, my cousin had been right. This guy was incredibly handsome.
"My name is Seokjin, but everyone calls me Jin," his voice was honey-sweet sounding.
I snapped out of it and gave a bow, giving him my name.
"Pretty name fits the face," he said under his breath. And then a look of shock and embarrassment swept over his face. I had a feeling he hadn't meant to say that out loud.
His compliment sent a blush across my cheeks and at seeing his neck turn a bright red, I turned away and pretended not to see.
I had been called "pretty" a few times in my life. I honestly believed I was an average-looking person. I wasn't tall, I wasn't anywhere near skinny, and my face was very bland. The only ones who had ever called me pretty were my family and friends. A boyfriend or two had said it to me but that was only when I dolled up for dates. Today, I didn't have much makeup on, so I was very taken aback by this guy's—Jin—words.
I wasn't sure if my cousin had heard him or not, but if she had she was doing a good job of pretending she hadn't. She immediately started going over the selected wardrobe and planning which outfits he should be trying on.
Doing my best to stay in the background, I did some prep work away from them. My sister caught my eye once and gave me a teasing smile. Well, she definitely had heard him.
After Jin got into his first fitting, my cousin called me over to make some adjustments.
As I worked on his legs and pinned them to a better length, he asked me what year I was born. He then gave me his year; I was older, but not by much. He went on to ask me more personal questions as he switched outfits. The questions didn't feel intrusive or inappropriate. However, the more we talked, the more I was aware he didn't seem to be asking my cousin or sister as many questions as he was asking me. Of course, he was polite and spoke to them, but it appeared he was zoning in on me for some reason.
Keeping my eyes on him through the full-length mirror in front of us, I asked how comfortable he felt in the outfit he had on. We were near finishing. I had taken no notice we had passed the two-hour mark.
He brought his arms up and moved them around, testing the jacket he had on. "Is there a way to tighten around the shoulders? That's the second money-maker, so I want to be sure to showcase it."
I had gotten accustomed to his light and funny tone already. I could tell he was joking, but serious. For maybe the 100th time with him, I laughed. "What's the first money-maker?" I asked, not being able to help myself.
"My face, of course," he said with seriousness. His eyes met mine through the mirror and my heart did that flutter thing again.
Feeling my face get red—again—I pulled my face away and focused on the task he had asked of me. I tightened the material around his shoulders more.
"What? You don't agree?" he demanded in an almost-whiny tone.
The giggle came out of me.
"Don't you know what they call me?" His head turned towards me, giving me a perfect view of his beautiful profile.
I felt my breath catch in my lungs. "What?" I asked, not being able to help myself. My eyes got pulled into his perfect jawline.
"Worldwide Handsome." His voice was so low and sounded like butter.
My eyes moved north on his face, taking in his striking cheekbones, linear nose, thick eyebrows, and gorgeous round eyes. "I can see why," I breathed out.
A smile tugged at his lips and he cocked an eyebrow, looking quite pleased with something. "It sounds better, right?"
"Better?" I asked, finding myself very lost.
"Than 'Car Door Guy'." He pulled his face away, loosening the control he had over me.
"What?" I asked, completely confused. I shook my head, trying to regain consciousness.
His eyes went wide, and suddenly, that suave persona melted away as he gave the most genuine look of disbelief. "Can you believe that's how they first called me? Look at this face. The most handsome face in all of the country and that's what they wanted to call me?"
The overdramatic theatrics had me laughing again.
"I mean, between that and Third Guy From the Left, I'm not sure which is worse," he went on with a pout.
"What are you talking about?" I asked through my laughter.
"Don't you know? Those are the names they gave me?"
"Who's 'they'?"
"'They', the media of course."
"Why do you say 'of course' as if I should know this?" My stomach was seriously hurting from laughing so much. I wasn't sure how he was making me feel so at ease. I barely knew the guy.
"You should know this. I'm not Worldwide Handsome for no reason. You should know about me," he insisted in a teasing tone.
"Sorry, but I haven't heard anything about 'Worldwide Handsome'."
"Maybe that's because I just came up with it," he said as he laughed at himself.
"Wait a minute, wait a minute. So you call yourself that, but no one else does?"
He paused to think and waited a good long moment before he answered. He placed his finger on his chin and gave a facial feature as if he was thinking. "When you say it that way, I think I understand what you mean...." He snapped his fingers as if he fingered out his dilemma. "I got it. I'll start calling myself that in interviews. that way, it picks up." He reached over and gave my shoulder a light touch. "Thank you so much. I owe you all my gratitude." He gave a slight bow.
My laughter had gotten too out of control. I started to clutch my stomach. Jin joined in and let out a weird sound. It only made it harder to breathe.
"Are you laughing at my laugh?" he asked in mock horror.
I could only nod.
In the distance, the sound of the door opening could be heard. Figuring it was either my cousin or sister, I ignored it.
"The members say it sounds like a windshield wiper," he managed to let out.
My feet joined in on the joy and stomped on the ground.
Jin's body was also fully embedded in the comedy. He reached out and gave me a slight shove. I felt my knees give a little and I took a step back. Suddenly, I lost my footing and began to tumble back.
Hands reached out to me and took hold of my arms, but it was too late. I was already falling.
The giggles died off as I felt something hard dig into my lower back. A warm liquid traveled under my leg.
"Noona, are you ok?" Jin's voice sounded alarmed and worried.
Finally, I reacted. "Ow."
"Hyung, let's get her up," said a deep voice.
I looked up to see a fairly tall, good-looking guy on the other side of me. He had eyes that could melt anyone with a simple look. Whoever dared put eyeliner on him should be arrested. He looked damn-near lethal.
The sound of the door opening now made sense. It had been this guy who had walked in.
"What hurts?" asked Jin, his face coming into view. His eyes were wide with worry.
A groan came out of me. "My pride," I said honestly.
The hot guy let out a small chuckle. "Is it ok if we help you up?"
I nodded.
Jin and the hot guy pulled me up with ease. Jin insisted I sit down.
The hot guy gave me a formal greeting. "My name is Taehyung."
I greeted him back and gave him my name. "Nice to meet you."
"I wish it was in better circumstances," he said with a smile that looked almost predatory.
A blush crept along my neck.
"Back up, Taehyung," Jin's voice sounded snappy and chilly. Nothing like he had sounded before.
Taehyung giggled, his smile turning boxy and boyish. "I'm sorry, am I overstepping?"
Jin rolled his eyes and pushed Taehyung back as he kneeled down. "I am so sorry, noona. Are you ok?" His face was still concerned.
I gave another nod. But he didn't look convinced.
I was about to answer him verbally, but another voice pulled our attention.
"Unni..." the voice sounded alarmed.
We all turned to the voice, which had come from the location I had fallen. And I saw why my sister sounded so concerned.
I had landed on my bag. My bag which contained my laptop. My bag which had been located next to my coffee. The liquid had not only spilled underneath me, but had managed to spill inside my bag. My laptop was now drenched in coffee. Ruined. My project. My promotion. My job!
My eyes slowly met Kim Seokjin's. He looked like a lamb about to get slaughtered.
Korea and the world might be fully in love with Kim Seokjin.
But I hated him.
Hated him for making me laugh.
----------------
MASTERLIST
Chapters : 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05(M) | 06(M) | 07
#bts fanfic#kim seokjin#jin fic#jin x reader#jin x oc#fluff#romance#idol!Jin#romantic#lovelife#crushes#idol!jin#idol!kim seokjin#jin x ofc#kim taehyung#bts v#idol!v#idol! kim taehyung#Seven Times I Hated Kim Seokjin
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