#btsholidaybingo

[btsmosphere]

Big Enough for Both of Us | JJK

~summary: his jumpers are going missing. And ending up on you. An annoying amount of books, some very cold weather and an admin mix-up later, will things change between you and Jungkook? Jungkook x reader (she/her pronouns) ~word count: 4.7k ~college au, fluff, getting together Rating: pg13 Warnings: one (1) swear, suggestive conversation and misunderstandings ~a/n: another bingo square, this time for ‘oversized hoodies/sweaters’ as an early Christmas present for you all!

You were shivering as you turned the keys to your locker, barely balancing the stack of books in your arms as you did so. Not wearing a jacket today was something you were sorely regretting, muscles groaning in protest from the cold and the weight you had lugged here.

The squeak of the old locker was the most welcome things you had heard all day, already preparing to shift the cursed pile of books off your struggling arms.

But as the door clanged softly open, all you could do was stare.

Something was already there.

Despite the pressing problem of the books weighing you down, you paused to look up and down the corridor. No one. Frowning, you peeked around to see the front of the locker door. This was definitely your locker, right?

Number 267. That was right.

Only, you had never used this locker before in your life. It had taken you until now, in December, to open it for the first time, even though you had started at college months back.

So the piece of black fabric sitting there, neatly folded, innocuous enough in any other situation, was a real curveball for you.

As you pondered, the top book on your tower decided to make a break for it, arms reminding you just how tired they were when you moved to catch it. Sighing, you leaned forwards and let them fall from your arms, right on top of the sweater.

You were pretty sure it was a sweater.

Whoever had this locker last year probably left it there by accident. It probably stunk by now, too.

Whether that was the case or not, you never got to investigate. A buzzing from your phone alerted you that your first lecture was about to start, your friend Namjoon asking where you were. So, without a second glance at the jumper, you slammed the door and rushed away.

It wasn’t until two classes later that it resurfaced in your thoughts.

The heating must have been broken in that class, or else your professor just liked to see you suffer. Throughout the lecture, you had been slowly freezing, resorting to rubbing your hands over your arms to ease your goosebumps.

And now that you piled out of the hall into the already dimming light, you found it was colder still.

The library was halfway across campus, and you were due to meet Namjoon there to make a start on your essays. Right about now, that mystery sweater did sound very tempting. And you did have to go back to your locker anyway to get the books, right?

Placing the stack by your feet, you stared at the material. It had been a bit flattened by the weight that had sat on it all day, but it looked clean at least.

Reaching in, you picked it up at the shoulder between one finger and thumb and leant in to smell it.

The first sniff returned a pleasant surprise. Nothing. Holding it in both your hands now, you brought it right up to your face, almost touching, and tried again.

It actually smelled good.

Come to think of it, it felt very soft between your fingers too.

Cold clutched so tightly onto your bones at this point that you couldn’t wait to get another layer on, so you stuck your arms inside. Sighing, you noted it must be quite new given how soft it still was.

You had got lucky.

Shaking the sleeves down, they fell way over your hands. The hem also came very low, nearly to your knees, but honestly, that felt like a bonus.

And so, lifting up the pile of books, you felt a little lighter (and much warmer) as you stepped out to meet Namjoon with your new big, soft jumper.

“I would say sorry I’m late, but I blame you,” you quipped as you slid into the chair beside Namjoon, depositing the books onto the desk with a loud thud, “were this many really necessary?”

Looking up at you from his own book, Namjoon had the decency to look a little apologetic as he laid eyes on the huge stack.

“Ah – yes – sorry,” he stuttered, “they did all look helpful. I suppose we’d better get through them all today so we can return them?”

Even his dimpled smile couldn’t stop you from groaning and flopping down onto your folded arms. Laughing, he pulled the first book off the pile, undeterred.

“I need coffee for this,” you mumbled.

But as you made to get up, Namjoon tugged you back down by your sleeve.

“You should make a start,” he fixed you with a look, “let’s go to the cafeteria later.”

Closing your mouth, you eyed up the intimidating pile of books. Of course, Namjoon knew you all too well, and was right. If you didn’t start working now, you could procrastinate for ages.

But you did want that coffee…

“If we wait til later, Jungkook will be there!”

Namjoon’s words had left his mouth the moment he saw you preparing to speak, and had snatched the argument right from your lips.

“Wh-what?” you spluttered, “What does that have to do with it?”

A knowing smile rested on Namjoon’s face as he placed a book in front of you.

You flipped it open and got to work.

Namjoon’s wish to get through all the books by closing time was a distant daydream. Half the books still sat untouched, and your essay still had a way to go.

Nonetheless, you weren’t going to stay slaving away all night. You made sure Namjoon remembered his earlier promise of coffee… although you didn’t mention the part about Jungkook.

Naturally, he was there anyway. Namjoon smirked as he left your side with his coffee order, waiting for you to stop staring at his friend and notice he was gone.

It took longer than you would care to admit.

Jungkook was a music student, and since Namjoon fancied himself a producer, he spent enough time in the department that he essentially was too, meaning he had a group of friends there as well as from his own course. And of course the boy you had been silently crushing on in the cafeteria since day one was one of them.

Unfortunately for you, Namjoon hadn’t prepared you for this when he decided to introduce you one day, and you had practically forgotten your own name as you found yourself suddenly in front the gorgeous Jungkook.

And just to add insult to injury, he had been really sweet to you.

Really, he was just asking you to fall for him.

You had promptly decided to stay away from him as much as you could help it. Until you were ready, you told yourself.

Which wouldn’t be anytime soon, given the way your cheeks combusted as he smiled over at your table. While Namjoon waved back, you studied your coffee cup very intensely.

“He’s gone,” Namjoon let you know, swinging back in his chair to take a swig of coffee.

Which was too hot.

And was now all over the table.

After your initial jump from your seat, all you could do was laugh as your friend started frantically mopping up the liquid, using already sodden napkins.

“Do you need some help?”

At the voice behind you, your jaw snapped shut.

Jungkook walked past you, grin splitting his face as he laughed at his hyung too.

“Thanks, Jungkook,” Namjoon chuckled.

You ran off to get more napkins.

On your return, you quickly helped clear the rest of the mess, rescuing your own drink from the pool on the tabletop. Seeing Namjoon had his things together, you also scooped up your bag. But no books.

Looking around for the godforsaken pile, you found them sitting in Jungkook’s arms.

“Oh, thanks,” you muttered, “I can take those, if you want-“

“It’s okay,” he beamed (would he ever stop smiling, he might make you drop down dead-).

“We’re getting the same bus, so I might as well bring them tomorrow,” Joon clapped his shoulder, “saves you breaking your arms again, right Y/N?”

“My arms weren’t breaking!” you scoffed, folding them against your chest.

“So you want to take them?” Jungkook raised a brow at you.

You blinked at him.

Then huffed and rolled your eyes.

“No…”

Laughing loudly, Namjoon led the two of you out of the cafeteria.

It was a good thing Jungkook carried the books. If this morning was anything to go by, you wouldn’t have enjoyed another walk with them.

Hugging your borrowed sweater around you a little more, you picked up the pace.

How Jungkook could have been outside in just that t shirt blew your mind. It was freezing.

“Can I borrow your locker key?” Namjoon whispered from the seat beside you.

“Why?” you hissed back, keeping your eyes forwards.

“Mine’s full,” he replied, “and we still have all these books.”

“We really had to get them all out at once, didn’t we?” you sighed, already digging in your bag for your keys.

“Someone else might have done otherwise!” Joon protested.

Underneath the desk, you passed him the keys.

“Number 267, okay?”

“Thanks.”

Once again, you had made very poor clothing choices. To be fair to you, the weather was supposed to have gotten warmer, so you had only put on a thin jumper. The outfit certainly looked good, but other than that, it was a bad idea. Tomorrow, you would put on a coat. Or maybe that jumper you had found yesterday…

Dashing between buildings to fetch the books again, you were convinced you might get hypothermia. The wind was biting across the already chilled air, sky an unforgiving grey above.

Inside, you fumbled with your key, fingers stiff with cold.

You hadn’t seen Joon since your first lecture, except when he ran past your study spot to throw your keys at you – literally – on his way to the music studios. You were lucky to still have both your eyes.

But maybe he had thought of you, because there beside the books, was a sweater.

Perhaps it was a mirage – could you get them from cold instead of heat? Reaching out to touch it, you concluded it was definitely real, but must be some kind of miracle. Dropping your bag to the ground straight away, you shoved the jumper on and huddled into it, bunching the sleeves around your frozen hands.

It was dark green, and you were sure you had seen Joon wearing a jumper like this before.

Thanking every deity out there that your friend had predicted your habit to dress poorly for the weather, you hauled the books out of the locker and set off for your study session.

Today you arrived first. Pulling out your phone, you sat back and waited for Joon to turn up.

When he did, you looked up from your phone to find he had stopped in front of your desk, staring back at you.

“You are a lifesaver,” you said, setting your phone aside and sitting forwards.

Blinking, he shook his head. “What?”

Frowning, you repeated yourself.

“I said you’re a lifesaver… for the jumper,” you clarified, “I was so cold, I could barely open my locker-“

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“What do you mean? Did you not leave this for me…” you frowned.

“No.”

You both stared at each other.

“Okay. Well, whose is it then?” you asked, pulling your chin to your chest to look down at the jumper you had on.

“Where did you find it?” Namjoon ignored your question, sitting down at last.

“It was in my locker, with the books,” you explained.

“But it’s not yours?”

“No!”

“It was there when I put them in this morning, though, I thought it must have been.”

“What the hell?” you struggled to find any other words.

“I guess someone else left it for you,” Joon shrugged.

Incredulous, you watched as he pulled out his laptop and opened it, unbothered by the strange apparition of your jumper.

“You think someone broke into my locker to leave me a jumper?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed, “but can you pass me the one by Hastings-“

Sighing, you dropped the matter and pulled his requested book from the middle of the stack, choosing the top one to start on yourself.

Though you let it go long enough to get through a bit more of your essay, you were absolutely going to put the jumper back after you were done. Knowing you were wearing someone’s sweater, you felt the gazes of everyone walking past as if they somehow knew, and were about to denounce you for being a sweatshirt thief in the middle of the library.

But, as it happened, the cold weather was hellbent on dissolving your goodwill.

There was no. way. you were going outside in any less layers than you currently had on. The trip to your locker brought you to that conclusion soon enough, and so you chucked the books in and hugged the sweater tighter.

That night, the shapes of the two jumpers you had ‘borrowed’ so far seemed to stick out in the dark. It may not be anything dramatic, but since they weren’t yours, you couldn’t keep them.

Thankfully, the morning brought actual sun with it.

And your phone told you it would get warmer still.

Your phone lied.

That morning, you had worn the green jumper, intending to take it off and return it to the locker when you reached campus and the day had warmed up.

In the event, nothing of the sort happened. You had bumped into Namjoon and one of his friends from music, Yoongi. The three of you had talked outside until it was time for class, so you headed straight for your lecture with Joon.

Your next step outside was when you knew you had messed up.

All trace of sun had disappeared, sky darkened with cloud again. Any heat this morning held had gone away too.

But you were determined. You huffed as you pulled the sweater over your head later on, placing it back into the locker despite the way you were already shivering from the walk over.

In the library, the pile of books dwindled steadily down, but you got no warmer. Seriously, this place needed to invest in some better heating.

Screw morals, you were getting that jumper back.

“I’ll be back,” you muttered, sliding away before Joon could reply.

Apart from that, you made the walk to your locker in record time, probably since no books weighed you down.

As you approached the building you were aiming for, the door swung open. On seeing you, the emerging figure slowed down and held the door behind them. Speeding up, you reached the door at a slight jog before you even noticed who it was.

Jungkook.

“Hi Y/N!” he said brightly.

“H-hi!” you smiled back, “how are you?”

“Good thanks,” he smiled too, leaning against the door, “just heading to the cafeteria.”

“Oh, Joon and I should be along soon,” you nodded.

“Cool, I’ll see you,” he flashed his grin again.

Finally greeted with the warmth of inside, you looked over your shoulder at Jungkook’s retreating back. Why on earth was he in a t shirt? Shaking your head, you made your way to your locker with a smile.

Look at you go! A normal, nice conversation with Jungkook! And hopefully you could put an end to the relentless study session if you told Namjoon you were expected to go and get coffee with Jungkook.

Clinking, your key turned in the lock and you pulled the locker open with a sigh of relief-

A new sweater.

Interesting.

Tilting your head to the side, you stared at it as if it might get up and explain itself any moment.

Rather than the green one you had abandoned earlier, a burgundy bundle lay there instead. Sighing sharply, you decided you had come all this way for warmth, after all, and if someone was going to insist on putting jumpers in your locker, then you were going to wear them.

Which is how you found yourself enveloped contentedly in the latest of the apparently continuous line of warm, cosy sweaters, sipping coffee from between you sweater paws at a table with Namjoon, Jungkook, Jin and Taehyung.

Perhaps you weren’t entirely used to being in someone else’s jumper yet, because you kept feeling uneasy, as if the others at your table were looking at you with sideways glances.

Shaking it off, you smiled along with the conversation. You were definitely imagining it. Even if you didn’t talk to them that much, Namjoon’s friends were always lovely to you.

Eventually, the cups lay empty and the boys were discussing meeting the others in the studio. Noticing the branches outside the window swaying wildly, you decided you could put off the walk home no longer, or the weather would only keep getting worse, knowing your luck.

“See you later,” you excused yourself to a round of small waves and smiles from the others.

All the others, except, strangely, Jungkook. He had always been very easy-going with you, so you tried not to read into it when he only gave a tiny smile before ducking his head again.

On your way out, you noticed Yoongi coming in and exchanged a nod.

But with you on your merry way, you had no idea of the situation you had left behind.

Jungkook’s cheeks were burning as he tried to ignore the pointed stares of his friends. Lips pulled in between his teeth, he tentatively looked up, through the hair hanging into his eyes.

“Kook…” Namjoon was the first to speak, eyebrows raised as he watched the younger boy.

“What?” he squeaked, chewing at his lip right after. Who was he kidding? They all knew ‘what’.

Looking over to Tae and Jin brought no solace, both looking equally confused and expectant. Silence stretched out between them as Jungkook tried to string together a coherent thought with all eyes on him.

“So when were you going to tell us you’re hooking up with Y/N?”

Jungkook choked on thin air. Looking up, he saw Yoongi sauntering across to their table, thankfully grabbing the attention away from Jungkook.

“What do you- I’m- we’re- we’re not-“

“It’s alright Kook, you can tell us,” Jin offered, eyes wide in an attempt at being consoling. It wasn’t helping.

“There’s nothing to tell!” he insisted.

“Doesn’t explain why she was wearing your jumper,” Tae interjected.

“Has been for days,” Yoongi helpfully chimed in next.

Jungkook hid his head in his hands.

“I thought she just left for a study break,” Namjoon piped up next, “I can’t believe you two! On campus, really?”

“We are not sleeping together!” Jungkook hissed, succeeding in shutting him up, “I don’t know why she’s wearing that!”

“Sure,” Yoongi scoffed.

“You’ve had a crush on her for so long, I swear we’re happy for you,” Tae leant forwards, “I’m just offended you didn’t tell us.”

“What?” Jungkook was getting more frustrated.

“It’s no secret you like her,” Jin agreed.

“You knew?! Why didn’t you say anything?” Jungkook stared at his friends in disbelief.

“To let you deal with it yourself,” Jin mumbled eventually, “are you- are you telling us you seriously still haven’t done anything about it?”

“I haven’t,” Jungkook admitted.

“You have a crush on Y/N?” Namjoon asked incredulously.

“What’s the deal with the jumpers then? I’m lost,” Yoongi said.

“Hello!?” Namjoon interrupted, “Kook has a crush on Y/N?”

Groaning, Jungkook dragged his hands down his face.

“Yes, Joon. I like her,” he muttered, “and I don’t know, Yoongi. I don’t know how she keeps getting my jumpers.”

“Well, ask for them back then,” Jin shrugged, sitting back.

Jungkook just sighed.

“Oh my god, he likes it!” Tae gasped in glee, an infuriating grin splitting his face.

Jungkook was sure he wouldn’t get cold walking home if his cheeks maintained this temperature.

“Hold on…” Namjoon suddenly leaned forwards, “the other day, she asked me if I had put a jumper in her locker. We thought someone had left it for her.”

“It was in her locker?”

“Yep.”

“Well, that’s weird. I didn’t put them there.”

“This is ridiculous,” Yoongi groaned loudly, “I thought Kook had finally sorted this stupid crush. I couldn’t care less about the damn sweaters. Let’s go to the studio, Jimin and Hobi are waiting.”

“What are you doing?”

You almost jumped out of your skin. Having just picked your books up from your locker (how the pile was still this big, you had no idea), you turned around to find none other than Jungkook stood staring at you.

Clutching the stack tightly to avoid a landslide after that jumpscare, you looked up at him. A light crease made itself known between his eyebrows.

“Just… getting these books,” you gulped. Now it had started beating again, your heart wouldn’t seem to shut up at such close proximity to him.

He continued frowning at you, expecting more, but all you could think about was how cute he was, even when he was annoyed. How is that even possible?

“That’s my locker.”

That startled you from your stupor. It was your turn to frown now, taken aback by his statement.

“…no, it’s not,” you said slowly, “that’s my locker.”

“Look,” he said then, before pulling a key from his pocket. Holding it up, you clearly saw the familiar number 267 glinting back at you.

Frown growing deeper, you struggled to balance the books in one arm while the other fumbled for your own key. As you flattened your palm, he leant in to see it.

“267,” he muttered, staring between yours and his. “what the…”

“That’s odd,” you frowned, “I guess we should talk to reception, but I, uh, I have class-“

“Y/N,” he slid into your way as you took a step, “um…”

As you waited for him to talk, he hesitated, tongue slipping out momentarily to wet his lips as he rubbed a hand at the back of his neck. At last, he took a breath, barely looking at you, and spoke.

“People have been asking me, ab-about us-“

Your eyes grew five times bigger in a millisecond. Did Jeon Jungkook just use the word us, talking to you?!?

“-they’re asking why you’re wearing my jumpers, and-and I guess I know why now, but-“

Oh.

Oh no.

No no no no no no no.

The jumpers you had been taking the liberty of stealing belonged to Jungkook?

Oh hell no.

“Shit, I’m sorry- uhh, I’ll get them all back to you, I swear,” you hurriedly spoke, backing away from him, “but I really need to go class, so, um, I’ll see you!”

And with that, you were walking as fast as your legs could carry you, far away from the most embarrassing situation since the time your pants had ripped when you were twelve. People had been asking Jungkook about you? They thought you were together?

You felt awful. All through your lecture, you could barely hear your professor over your internal screaming. What must Jungkook think about this? About you?

Ditching the pile of godawful, cursed books with Joon, you hurried to your locker, hoping that no one would be in sight so you could shove the jumper away. You were wearing the first one you had found. You could return the rest later.

Yes, you would be freezing, but you would have to deal with it.

Roughly pulling it over your head as you reached your locker, the corridor mercifully empty, you threw open the door.

But something was already there.

You wouldn’t have paid it any attention, except there was a note sat on top. And it had your name on it. Underneath the note sat something dark blue and suspiciously hoodie-shaped.

Eyeing it warily, you read the note.

Y/N, I’m sorry, I should have explained better. You don’t have to put the jumpers back, or even stop wearing them. In fact, if you keep wearing them I would be very happy. I brought this for you – it’s the biggest hoodie I own and I hope you like it. I need to tell you something, and I’m clearly better at writing it down than saying it to you, but I want to say it. I really like you, Y/N. You don’t have to feel the same, but you can at least keep the sweaters and stay warm. JK xx

This couldn’t be real. Eyes darting to and fro re-reading the message, you reached out to take the paper between your fingers. Apparently, it was real.

Letting it drop back onto the blue hoodie, you looked around you to find the hallway still empty.

Now this wasn’t fair. Jungkook couldn’t make your all your dreams come true and then hide somewhere. You had to find him.

Stuffing the first jumper you stole away, you pulled out the new gift and tugged it on. Not only was it huge, but it was so soft. When you found him, you were going to find out what detergent he used.

Either way, you spared little time to enjoy the warm hug in jumper form, instead racing off to track down Jungkook. Zipping through the cafeteria proved fruitless, and you even stopped in the library. Joon was in there, but you didn’t stop, just chucking Jungkook’s note in the face of his complaints and moving on.

You had never actually been in the music studio before, but you found it easily enough.

Practically running inside, you stopped, breathing heavily, in the entrance. Only three people were in there, and of course none of them were Jungkook.

Jimin, Hoseok and Yoongi looked around at you in surprise.

“Where’s Jungkook?” you panted.

Yoongi had barely lifted his hand before you had already taken off in the direction he pointed. Pushing the door wide open, you finally laid eyes on the person you had been looking for.

When Jungkook looked around from where he stood in front of a microphone, a piece of paper clutched in his hand, all the words you were going to say to him suddenly left your mind.

“What detergent do you use?”

The question fell uselessly from your lips, only making him more confused.

“What?”

“Oh, nevermind-“

Letting the door fall shut behind you, your feet didn’t stop moving as you crossed the room until your lips crashed into his.

Arms instinctively coming up to hold you, his eyes widened at first but quickly slid shut as he realised what was happening. You were so desperate to find him, and now you couldn’t wait to feel him, lips ravenous as your hands tangled in his long hair.

He tasted so good, making you groan into his mouth as his lips fit so perfectly against yours, incidentally granting him access to slip his tongue inside. There was barely a hair’s breadth between you as he tugged you in, hands fisted in the fabric of his own sweater that swallowed you up.

Finally recovering from the shock and elation of kissing you, he cupped the back of your head, tilting his own to deepen the kiss as he held you steady. And it was a good thing he did, or he would have swept you clean off your feet.

Even as you broke away from each other, staring in shock at your own boldness, your heart continued its raging party in your chest. You could only stare into his brown eyes, totally lost and awed at what just happened.

“Nice hoodie,” Jungkook whispered, the first to break the silence.

“Y-yeah,” you nodded, “thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it.” He looked at you then, big eyes hopeful and oh god you just wanted to kiss him again and see him smile forever-

“Can I take this as your reply to my note?”

“Yes, Jungkook,” you smiled, and the grin that burst onto his face was the most glorious you had ever seen, “I like you too. I really, really like you.”

“I really, really like you too, Y/N,” he grinned, lips connecting with your forehead in a brief, sweet peck, “and I’d like to see you in my sweaters more often.”

Thank you to everyone who reblogs my work!!

I now have a follow-up drabble for this oneshot here!

Taglist: @aianloveseven​ @preciouschimine​ (message to be added)

Find my other work on my masterlist

#thebtswritersclub #purplearmynet #bangtanuniversity #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook college au #jungkook college au #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook humour #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook scenario #boyfriend jungkook #jungkook sweater #jungkook hoodie #college au jungkook #college au bts #btsholidaybingo

[joheun-saram]

“Is your refrigerator running?” (jjk)

Summary- Who knew the annoying prank calls you were receiving would become the favourite part of your day.

word count- 4.2k

pairing- fratboy!Jungkook x Reader

rating- PG-13

genre- fluff, collegeau

warnings- none! just stupid jokes.

a.n- Part of my drabbles for @btsholidaybingo​, ticking off the Prank Calls tile! I’ll be posting these every week or so as I get them done. Check out the other drabbles here :)

s/o to the beautiful @heyitsmeee2​ for beta reading and helping me fix the ending! 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

-

“So how’s your new boyfriend?” Namjoon asked you as you chewed on your fries, almost choking at his insinuition. He laughs at you as he takes a sip of his milkshake, slurping obnoxiously, his eyes widening as he concentrates on the flavour.

“Stop! He’s just a random guy with too much time on his hands! I don’t even know his name! Although...” You stared at your burger, trying to forget what your roommate was alluding to. Two months ago you had started getting phone calls from a stranger. It wasn't something from a horror movie, don't worry. It was harmless. He would call you at random times in the day to ask you silly questions. You don’t know how he even got your number but there was something about his easy going nature and lame jokes that made you want to continue talking to him. Namjoon suspected it was a byproduct of your loneliness, but it was comforting hearing his voice to break through your mundane day to day. 

"Hi, is this Y/N?" A deep voice spoke as you picked up the call from an unknown number.

"Yes this is she. Who is this?" You asked as you sat up straighter, your attention diverting from the paper you were writing. You had applied to eight jobs for after graduation and you were sure this was a call for an interview, even though it was 10 pm. Your eyes lit up as you hoped this was the big consulting firm you were waiting to hear from.

"I have a very important question that I was hoping you could help me with."

"Um.. sure go ahead." You fiddled with your pen, scribbling random shapes on your notebook, feeling somewhat nervous. Is this how employers usually talked? Did they do this to build anticipation?

"Is your refrigerator running?"

"I'm sorry what?"

"Is your refrigerator running?" 

"Are you calling on behalf of the landlord?" Your voice was flat with disappointment. Surely, this was not an important question. Oh how you wished it was an interview call. You sighed.

"Please answer my question."

"Yes. It's running."

"Then you better go catch it, shouldn't you?"

And with that he hung up and you were baffled. Which decade was this dude from? Who does these lame prank calls anyway and more importantly why does your caller ID not show who it is? Thinking nothing of it, you go about finishing your assignment, albeit slightly aggravated. However, the calls continue. Everyday this stranger would call you with questions, sometimes with a silly punchline but oftentimes even sillier riddles.

"Okay, dude seriously. This is getting annoying." You huffed after a week and a half of receiving calls from the same deep voiced stranger, although you’d be lying if you said his little laugh after he told his jokes was not endearing.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to annoy you." He seemed hurt and you couldn’t fathom why he would be hurt over a comment a stranger made over his prank calls. In fact, you were sure this was some hobby of his and he had a rotation of strangers to bother.

"Can you at least tell me your name?" You don’t know why you were indulging him, but you had to give him props for constantly calling you. It was kind of becoming part of your daily routine.

"Dixie. My name's Dixie." You could hear the mirth in his tone.

"Dixie? Oh I thought you were a dude, my bad."

"I can be a dude and still have Dixie as my name. Jeez, are you a bigot?" He scolded.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean it that way, Dixie."

"That's Dixie Normus to you." He laughed at his joke, every syllable of his laugh separated as if he was a cartoon character.

"Oh my god. You're the worst!" Regardless of your words, you were laughing. Laughing hard enough to have the banana milk you were drinking to snort out of your nose, making you cough. For a moment, you were glad this stranger wasn't in the room.

"Sorry! Are you okay?" You could hear the humour in his words, shading them in anything but an apology.

And so it went, your mysterious caller, who refused to go by anything other than Dixie turned into a somewhat friend, if you can even call someone who you know no personal details about your friend. After a month the phone calls had turned from cringe worthy puns to actual conversations about your day. You had started to look forward to the unknown flashing on your screen, and sharing the mundane details of your day with Dixie.

In two months you learned a lot more about Dixie. He went to your university, he was an avid gamer, he majored in computer science, and apparently it was now part of his daily routine to call you whenever he was cooling down from his workout on the treadmill - explaining the creepy breathlessness of his voice and beeps in the background. Sometimes you had half a mind to go to the university gym during your calls and see your mysterious friend, but somehow you never found the courage. It was nice not knowing what Dixie looked like, not judging someone by their looks but just by the content of their words. There was no room for disappointment.

It also oddly comforted you that you would never meet him and during your nightly conversations you would end up sharing thoughts that you’d be too uncomfortable sharing with even your best friends. Thoughts about the uncertainty you had over graduating soon, thoughts about being sad over failed relationships, even thoughts about your random existential crisis that would plague you mid week. Dixie was empathetic and had a knack for comforting you with small jokes and his own struggles. You would never admit it to Namjoon, but Dixie was slowly becoming your closest friend, even surpassing him to a certain extent.

"You're insane you know that?" Namjoon chided as you talked about Dixie and how you considered him a friend now. Even though Namjoon was your best friend since first grade, he sometimes didn't understand why you romanticised daily events so much. He never understood why you kept giving Dixie the benefit of the doubt, why you kept picking up his phone calls even when you knew it was going to be a lame joke or two.

"I'm not insane Joon! Haven't you heard of pen pals? This is the same thing but with voice."

"Nah. I think it's your crippling loneliness. Which is why we're going to Jin's frat party tonight." Namjoon was not having any of your excuses. So what if your last relationship was a year ago. You and Yoongi were great together. He was the perfect boyfriend and after he went to LA to pursue his music career, you told him you'd wait. Turns out he wasn't on the same page as you since six months after moving, he called you to break things off. He was right though, it would have been stupid to wait for him when neither of you knew when and even if he was ever coming back. It was unfair to the both of you to keep dragging this thing along. But even if Yoongi hadn't been around the last year and a half, you just couldn't see yourself with anyone else. You still missed talking to him every night and sharing your day, laughing at stupid videos together or just listening to him playing the piano through the static line of your phone. Maybe Namjoon was right. Maybe you were lonely and the only reason you were so attached to Dixie was because of the way his phone calls had replaced Yoongi's and how you no longer waited at the end of your day staring at your phone waiting for your ex's call but instead you received real actual calls from your voice pen pal.

You sighed agreeing with Namjoon and went home, not exactly looking forward to the party and missing Dixie’s call.

------------------------

Jin's frat was notorious for the wildest parties on campus. It was always a cacophony of drunk students and a pit of hedonism. When Namjoon and you arrived, the party was in full swing and you thanked your best friend for having the foresight of pre-drinking. The bottle of grapefruit soju you had emptied earlier at your shared apartment ensured that you were not put off by the plethora of drunk guys trying to hit on you microseconds after you entered.

Looking for Jin and let's be honest, a little gin as well, you and Namjoon made your way to the kitchen, to be greeted by your tall friend doing a keg stand. Beer dripped down his chin as his fraternity brothers held him up, his feet almost touching the ceiling. As you poured yourself a gin and tonic, Jin climbed down from the keg to a chorus of applause. Much to your chagrin, he walked over, draping his arms around your shoulders and plastering your back with his beer soaked chest.

"Ew get off me you vermin!" You squealed, shivering in the gross feeling, your backless top doing nothing to shield you from your friend’s shirt as he refused to budge.

"Vermin? VERMIN?! I invite you to my house, give you free drinks, and an array of decent dicks to pick from and I'm the vermin?" Jin finally detaches, giving you a scowl as he leans against the kitchen island, pouring himself what you gather is his tenth drink of the night.

"Jin all of these guys are as gross as you. And I've told you I don't need to get laid!"

"Sure tell that to your vibrator working overtime."

"How did you even - " you sputered, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Namjoon, obviously. And before you kill him, there are no secrets between friends and part-time lovers." He winked, making you roll your eyes. Namjoon and Jin had been on and off since the beginning of freshmen year, neither the type for commitment but to your dismay loved to tell you all about their rollercoaster of a relationship. You swear you could write a thesis on dysfunctional relationships using theirs as a case study.

"Ew. Please stop. I don't need to know about you and Joon getting it on."

"Well then let me introduce you to someone so you can get it on." He wiggled his eyebrows puckering his lips to annoy you. 

"I know all your brothers Jin and no thank you." You lightly slapped his lips making him groan as he grabbed your wrist continuing his tirade. You’d be lying if you said his frat brothers had never caught your eye - they were famous for their astoundingly good looks, in fact there even seemed to be an instagram page dedicated to people randomly spotting them on campus (@betatauinthewild). However, their good looks did not make up for the fact that they were a bunch of loud fuckboys. You loved Jin and Namjoon and would literally stab anyone who said anything against them but you had to agree that they were the biggest players of the group, finding a new person to bed almost every weekend. That is, unless they were with each other - case and point their dysfunctional relationship.

"Well we have a new brother and he's my little brother. He's a sophomore, he just joined, and he's your type. The whole quiet but nice guy type." Jin continued, ignoring you in typical fashion.

"I don't have a type."

"Please! As if Yoongi wasn’t a cookie cutter tsundere. Come on let me introduce you to him!" He grabbed your shoulder and pleaded, pouting and widening his eyes in the most adorable puppy dog face you had seen him pull.

"Can we not talk about Yoongi please." You sighed. You finished your drink and proceeded to pour another one. 

"Yes! Let's talk about JK!"

"Jin... come on. Let's just drink okay?"

"Fine but I'm telling you, you'll get along. He's a great guy."

An hour into the party, you had lost both Jin and Namjoon and were getting tired of Jin’s exceedingly drunk frat brothers trying their pick up lines of the day on you. Your head was hurting from the noise of the party and you were sure if you saw another couple subtly trying to test their exhibitionism kink you were going to puke. So as it was typical for whenever you went to these parties, you started to make your way to Jin’s room. Jin may be loud and obnoxious and being lusted after by pretty much the entire campus, but he was reliable for one thing: he never fucked where he slept. And so his room became a sort of sanctuary for you when these parties would get too much.

You made your way up the stairs almost tripping over two guys who had decided that making out horizontally on the stairs was a good idea - you did not envy how busted their backs would be tomorrow. Punching in the code you walked in to find that there was already someone there, reclined on the bed with his arms behind his head, earphones in, humming gently as he stared at the ceiling. You had never seen him before, but boy did you wish you did. His dark hair was splayed over the pillows, a smile ghosting his full lips. He was dressed in all black, much like you but unlike your lace bodysuit and skinny jeans, he was wearing a boxy back t shirt with ripped jeans, his feet in those questionable toe socks. And he was buff, even though his body was mostly covered you could make out the muscle in his arms, one of which had intricate tattoos etched on to. You’re unaware how long you stared at this stranger, but suddenly he turns his face looking at you. Seeing you there he immediately jumps up, pulling his earphones out, startling you in turn.

“I- I’m sorry. Y-you can’t be h-here,” he stutters out, a soft blush rising up his cheeks as he nervously pulls at his ear.

“I should be saying that to you. Why are you in Jin’s room?” You shut the door, leaning on it, feeling oddly territorial.

“I- Hyung needed my room.” You found the stuttering boy in front of you endearing. Something about how he bashfully stared at anything but you while speaking made you want to hug him. 

“Oh my god! You let him into your room? Drunk during a party?” You almost scream, but lower your voice seeing the alarm on his face. Walking over, you sat next to him, a few feet away so as not to make him uncomfortable. “Do you like doing laundry or something?” you joked.

Hearing your question the boy perks up, looking at you with a bright smile that made your heart skip a beat. “I do actually! How did you know?” he asks excitedly. You almost felt bad bursting his bubble.

“I didn’t… It’s just - you know Jin’s probably having sex in there right?” You look at the abject horror on his face in sympathy, so you try to change the subject. “Nevermind. Why are you hiding in here?”

“I’m not hiding. I just got bored. Everyone there just wants to hook up or get blackout drunk.”

“You do realise which frat you’re part of right?”

“I know,” he chuckles, seemingly more relaxed as he lays down on the bed, his feet still on the floor. “I honestly didn’t even wanna join but I’m a legacy so my dad really wanted me to be a part of it, Beta Tau pride and all.”

“Not to be a bitch, but dude you sound like a protagonist of a shitty college romcom,” you laugh looking down at him as he smiles, crossing your legs on the bed as you turn towards him, forcing yourself to ignore how cute he looks from this angle.

“You think you’re being a bitch, but that's a great compliment. I wish my life was a romcom. It’d be so easy…”

“Okay, emo. What’s wrong?”

“You’re going to think it’s dumb.”

“Hey I don’t even know your name! What have you got to lose?”

“Fine. There’s this girl I like and we always call each other… Well I call her.... at this time, but she didn’t pick up. So yes I’m emo, and yes I wish I was in a romcom so I’d go downstairs and randomly run into her.” He looks at you with a sad smile, shrugging slightly, and you feel yourself deflate. Not that you were interested in him or anything. You were sure it was just the alcohol in your system making you feel extra empathetic. Yup that’s it.

“Hey, that’s not stupid,” you say gently. “What if she’s down there did you check?”

“Well… I don’t actually know what she looks like… So, no…”

“Oh then maybe you should call her again! What if she was busy?”

“I don’t wanna be pushy, you know? I’m not even sure she thinks of me the same-”

“YO DIXIE! You in there?” A loud knock booms through the room accompanied by a deep voice. The attractive stranger next to you rolls his eyes before standing up, and at hearing his nickname you feel your heart kickstart, racing as you blink in disbelief. It can’t be…

“Dixie?” you stutter out.

“What’s up dude?” He opens the doors talking to Taehyung, one of the other Beta Tau brothers, as they start talking about something. You can barely hear their conversation, your brain full of scenarios and questions, your face crimson. You never thought you’d meet Dixie in real life. Do you tell him? Do you just run away? Why did he have to be so hot?!

Taehyung notices you on the bed for the first time and in typical fashion starts hollering and high-fiving Dixie. “Damn dude! The president’s best friend! Good for you!” He snickered as Dixie looked at him with his mouth agape, before turning to you. “Ay Y/N. Treat our boy JK well okay? He’s too nice for you!”

“Fuck off hyung!” JK, apparently that’s his name, shoves Taehyung as he grins widely before wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and shutting the door, seemingly getting all that he came for.

“You’re Dixie…?” You stare up at him, standing up as you try to control the overwhelming urge to wrap your hands around him. Fuck, maybe Joon was right you did have a crush on your voice pen pal.

“I- Y/N?” He looks at you, mirroring your wide eyes. “The same Y/N I’ve been talking to?”

“Call me,” you almost whisper.

“What?”

“Call me so I know it’s real.” You move closer holding your phone up as he pulls his out of his pocket to dial your number. Your phone rings, displaying a set of numbers instead of unknown for the first time, and the two of you just stare at the vibrating device in your hand. It seems like time stood still, the air thick with tension as your shitty ringtone bounces off the walls. That is until you start laughing. Not giggling, full on laughing, holding your stomach as tears spill down your face, as JK looks at you in alarm, his arms hovering near you as you double over.

“Holy shit! You are the protagonist of a romcom!” You finally wheeze out as you hold his arm for support, while he looks at you with a frown. You’re unsure why this was your reaction, but you recover quickly to start your interrogation.

“So what’s your name Dixie or JK?”

“Jungkook, actually. Dixie’s my gamertag and JK is just what Jin hyung calls me.”

“How did you get my number?”

“Umm… I might have stolen it from hyung’s phone…”

“Why?”

“Because he prank called my friends first.” He spoke with a pout, and you swear your heart forgot to function.

“Why keep calling?”

“Really Y/N? You’re gonna interrogate me?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Keep talking Dixie!” You chuckled as his shy demeanor gave way to the Dixie, well the Jungkook, you knew. It was weird how fast the earlier awkwardness dissipated into comfort.

“What? I thought you sounded pretty! Sue me!” He shrugged, leaning back against the door, his hands in his pocket. Your eyes followed the movement, momentarily distracted by how his forearms flexed. Clearing your throat, you continued as he smirked, not missing the way your eyes seemed to be roaming his body.

“You said you were trying to call the girl you like. So you like me?” You try to sound as matter of fact as you could, but your voice wavered slightly at the last part as you made the mistake of looking at his face. He tilted his head, causing his hair to fall into his eyes that were boring holes into you, his smirk getting larger. Oh how you wished he turned back into the boy talking about how much he liked laundry.

“I thought it was obvious. I call you every night.” He stood straight, taking a step towards you causing heat to creep up your face at his sudden confidence. You don’t respond as he moves closer, causing his steps to falter. “Do you like me?” he asks, his voice a little smaller. You’re getting whiplash from the changes in his tone, but his question makes you feel warm. You haven’t felt this way in a long time, there’s butterflies in your stomach, your hands feel clammy, and you’re sure you can feel the heat off his body, so aware of where he stands merely inches away from you.

“I think so…” you move closer and he raises his hand as if to hold your hip but stops, hovering just centimeters away as looks at you, his gaze smouldering.

“What’ll make you sure of it?” he asks in a whisper, and before you can even comprehend the question, you are leaning up on your toes to press a light kiss against his lips. His lips are slightly chapped and you’re sure he can feel your heartbeat through them. Your skin tingles where he brings his hand on your hip, gently holding you. He doesn’t push you further, just leans his forehead on yours when you separate to whisper quietly, “This.”

“And?” His nose brushes against yours as you place your hand on his chest, his pounding heart mimicking yours. He slowly rubs his hands on your hips where they lay, and it’s like your skin is electrified.

“I’m sure,” you say as he crashes his lips on yours, pulling you closer as your arms snake around his neck. His reaction is much stronger this time as he moves his lips against yours feverently. He pulls you flush against him, your body molding against his hard muscles. His hands grip at your hips as he licks lightly at your lip, groaning as they part. It seems like he can’t decide what to do with his hands, roaming them over your sides, relishing the little moan you make as one of them cups your ass. His earlier shyness disappears, and who are you to resist him, as your hands in his hair pull him closer. It’s like everything finally makes sense, why you could never ignore his calls, why your heart raced whenever you heard him call your name through the static of your speaker. You had spent this whole time convincing yourself that he was just a stranger you could vent to when it was clear to you now that you were falling for him.

He whispers your name as you break apart, but his mouth continues down your jaw to your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin. His teeth drag across your collarbone, and you whimper at the way he soothes it with his tongue as you press your body even closer into his.

“Hey Y/N! Joon’s looking for you!”

The two of you break apart at the interruption, chest heaving and faces flushed. Looking up at Jungkook, you smile as he looks away shyly, his lip caught between his teeth, before turning to your best friend who is excitedly hopping in the doorway.

“I knew you would get along with JK!” Jin exclaims as you look once again at Jungkook before you both break out in a laugh. Trust Jin to know who you’d fall for before you. He comes up to pat his frat brother on the shoulder before his proud smile turns into a glare, warning the two of you that his room was for sleeping only and abruptly kicking you out. 

The two of you giggle as you make your way downstairs, unable to keep your hands off of each other, going from holding hands to hugging to sneaking kisses in the kitchen as you make your drinks. Before the night ends the two of you end up sitting in the backyard, kissing under the stars and planning your first date later that week, even though it felt like you had known each other an eternity.

You had never felt luckier to pick up a random phone call.

#bts fic #bts fanfiction #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #btsholidaybingo #thebtswritersclub #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook x yn

[luffles424]

Tips & Teases

☼ Pairing: Seokjin x reader

☼ Genre: fluff, smut, pwp (with some plot), skating carhop!reader, diner cook!Seokjin, coworkers 2 lovers

☼ Count: 13.1K

☼ Warnings: 18+, teasing, dom!Seokjin, brat!reader, some possessiveness, big dick!Seokjin, manhandling, mirror sex (sort of, it’s actually a window, but it’s still a reflection), semi public sex, clothed sex, dirty talk, degradation (lots of use of the word slut), spanking, spitting, assplay, pussy spanking, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, hair pulling, ass worship, ass eating, orgasm denial, oral (f receiving), squirting, choking, unprotected, creampie, aftercare

☼ Summary: Jimin’s annual Halloween costume party presents you the perfect excuse to tease Seokjin, using the party as an excuse to wear flirty costumes to work to try to provoke a response in the man. Are you really prepared for what happens when he snaps?

☼ a/n: This one got a little bit away from me lmao But I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

☼ Written for @btsholidaybingo​​​​ to fill the square costume party

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

You glance up at the exclamation, seeing Seokjin leaning against the counter in the pass through, brows furrowed as he takes in your seated form. You hide your smirk by ducking your head to finish tying your skates. It’s not fully the reaction you were hoping for but you’re hoping that’ll change once you stand up and he sees it fully. You thought long and hard on what you were going to wear. You have backups, but you decided to start easy on him. But you were fully prepared to escalate. 

Skates tied, you push yourself up and give a little spin to fully show off your outfit. And to maybe let the already fairly short skirt flair and rise a little higher as you move. You come to a stop facing Seokjin once more, innocent smile tugging your lips as your toe stop presses into the ground to keep you in place. You smooth down the skirt, though the layers of tulle keep it from laying completely flat.  

Seokjin’s eyes drag over your form and you wait with baited breath for his reaction. This was all part of your plan to tease and fluster him. “Again, what the fuck are you wearing?”

You pout. That’s still not what you were expecting, though you think you can just make out the tips of his ears turning red. You put a hand on your hip. “It’s October.”

His head tilts. “Yeah and Halloween isn’t for another two weeks. It doesn’t explain this getup.”

You scoff. “Halloween is all month, first of all. And Jimin’s costume party is coming up and I couldn’t decide on what to wear so I decided to try them out at work first.” You bat your lashes at him, forcing down a smirk. “Does that mean you don’t like it?”

His mouth opens then snaps closed as his cheeks dusted with pink. “There’s no way that Namjoon approved that,” he deflects. Interesting.

You look down at the costume. It’s a fairly generic ‘sexy’ waitress costume. Red with yellow stripes that matches the overall aesthetic of your little drive in diner. The skirt hits above midthigh, puffed out by tulle, so the skirt bounces a little more with each movement along with a small ruffled apron with a pocket that isn’t actually usable. The buttons stop at the right point to give a more than ample display of cleavage. And you’ve paired the whole thing with a set of thigh high socks, leaving only a tantalizing glimpse of your thighs on display. 

You look back up and quirk an eyebrow, smirking. “Joonie was with me when I bought it.”

A ding sounds and you both turn to look at the wall where the board for the all parking spots sits, a light glowing beside the number 12. You swipe one of the order pads and a pen from the counter and move to the door to outside. You give him a wink before nudging the door open with your hip and skating out to the waiting car. 

Seokjin scowls after you and then pulls out his phone, dialing Namjoon’s number. 

Namjoon picks up after a few rings. “Is someone dying or is the building on fire?”

Seokjin frowns, watching as he watches you laugh as you speak with the people in the car. “What?”

“Is someone dying or is the building on fire?”

“I… well no-”

“Then why are you calling me? Jin, it’s my only day off and I know you’re at Omelas right now, so this is clearly a work related call.” Namjoon sighs. He sounds a little tired and Seokjin suddenly worries that he woke him up even though it’s 4 in the afternoon. The manager works far too much for his own good.

“Did you really tell Y/n she could wear a waitress costume to work?”

There’s a pause and then Namjoon chuckles. “Wow she really wore it? Man, her tips are going to be great today.”

Seokjin’s about to respond when he catches sight of you leaning over to speak to another car, back facing him, and the action causes your skirt to rise further up your thighs. He swallows and jerks his gaze away, glaring at the grill and cursing that it’s slow and he has nothing to keep him busy right now. He needs a distraction to keep from just watching you longer. 

Namjoon continues when Seokjin remains silent. “Yes, I said she could wear it. It’s the season and I’m sure it’ll appeal to customers to see them skating in costume and it’ll boost business. Hm, I should probably make up some rules cause I worry what Jimin will wear,” he finishes, seeming to be speaking more to himself. 

“I think it’s dumb.” Seokjin mutters petulantly. Dumb is definitely not how he’d truly describe it. It’s more frustrating, maddening, distracting. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to focus on work when you’re flitting around looking like that. Maybe he can switch future shifts so he doesn’t have to work the same time as you. 

Namjoon snorts. “Noted. Is that all?”

Seokjin mutters a yes and Namjoon hangs up with a warning to call again only if there’s an emergency. His hand drops back to his side in defeat. Namjoon was the only one who could save him and he apparently is more worried about Jimin’s costume than yours. He stares at the grill, he had really hoped that Namjoon would back him up. He’s not ready for this shift. Maybe he can call Taehyung or Yoongi to come cover and he can fake being sick or something.

The door opens and he looks up, deflating slightly when he sees that it’s just Jungkook, who immediately flashes him a sheepish smile.

“You’re late,” he snaps. He knows he’s not really mad at Jungkook. They’re all guilty of being a little late, but he has nowhere else to channel the feelings simmering just under his skin.

Jungkook grins and tosses his bag into the cubby behind the counter along with his boots before moving back around to sit to put his skates on. “I’m not that late. Besides,” he glances out the glass front doors to where a group of guys have sat at one of the picnic tables under the awning. You stand with a hip cocked, giggling at something one of them has said. “Seems like Y/n’s got everything handled right now.”

“Just get to work before I tell Namjoon you were late again.”

Jungkook stands, shit-eating grin firmly in place as he glances out the window pointedly. “Pretty sure you wouldn’t do that.” And before Seokjin can respond, he skates out the door to see who you want him to take.

Seokjin doesn’t know how he’s going to survive this shift. 

The next time that Seokjin works a shift with you, he encounters Jimin first. A very shirtless Jimin who’s back is to him when he enters the building. 

“Jimin, what the fuck?”

Jimin turns and grins, quickly moving around the counter so Seokjin can see the full extent of his costume. Or more accurately, his lack of clothing. Because the only thing on Jimin right now that counts as clothing is the tight pair of black shorts that barely even really cover his thick thighs. The only other things on him are a pair of suspenders, a green tie, and two black x’s that cover his nipples. 

Seokjin blinks. “What the fuck are you even supposed to be?”

Jimin adjusts the thick black glasses on his face with a grin. “Class president,” he states proudly. 

Seokjin scoffs. “What fucking class president looks like that?”

Jimin pouts. “Well I was class president. So me.”

Seokjin shakes his head. “Does Namjoon know you’re wearing this? There’s no way he allowed this.”

 “We compromised.”

Seokjin lifts a brow, looking over Jimin’s “costume” once more. “Where’s the compromise?”

He points proudly to the pasties. “These are. And I have a jacket for when the sun goes down and it gets colder.” He turns and grabs the two drinks he had been working on and moves towards the door. “Isn’t Y/n’s costume idea great?” he adds before exiting the building. He also very much does not like your costume idea. He can already feel his sanity fraying with just the thought of working another shift with you in that little waitress getup. 

“That’s… not a compromise.” Seokjin says weakly as he turns to put his bag away, knowing that even if Jimin did hear it, he wasn’t going to respond. 

However you happen to enter and catch what he said and you giggle. “You don’t want to know about the rest of the compromise, Jinnie.”

He’s about to respond; say that he can certainly imagine what the compromise was because Jimin has never been shy about telling everyone how he managed to talk Namjoon into very not Namjoon situations. His words die in his throat though when he catches sight of you as you begin to get some drinks. Nothing about last time prepared him for this. Because you’re not wearing the waitress costume tonight. Oh no, apparently that would have been too simple. You have a different costume on. 

You have thigh high socks on, though these are thicker than the other ones you had worn. There’s a lot more thigh on display as well thanks to the short, white athletic shorts you’re wearing, paired with a cropped white jersey emblazoned with ‘Tune Squad.’ And finishing off the look is a pair of tan and white bunny ears perched on your head and what he discovers when you turn to grab something and much to his horror, is the matching fluffy tail settled right on top of the swell of your ass. 

When you turn back, he has to quickly jerk his gaze away from staring at your ass longer. There’s a knowing smirk when his eyes finally meet yours, like you knew what putting the tail on would do.

Seokjin clears his throat. “And what are you supposed to be?”

You gasp in mock horror, hands coming up to rest over your heart like he’s physically hurt you. “You can’t be serious!” When he doesn’t say anything else, you shake your head in disappointment. “Space Jam is a classic and you’re a heathen for not recognizing Lola Bunny. Shame on you,” you tut. You gather your drinks on a tray and move towards the door, pausing as your back presses against the glass to cast Seokjin an appraising look. “Suppose I’ll have to look for a Bugs Bunny then, hm?” 

And with a wink, you’re nudging the door open and skating out to a table full of guys and Seokjin bristles at the way some of them blatantly stare at your ass. His mind belatedly catches on your parting words and he wonders what you meant. Was it directed at him? Did you want him to be your Bugs? He doubts that, he can’t recall a moment of you ever expressing interest in him as anything more than a friend. Maybe you were making a joke about how you needed someone else to help your costume be more recognizable. Though Seokjin knew what your costume was when he saw it. He just didn’t know what else to say without saying something incriminating.

A snicker has his head whipping around to see Taehyung standing over the grill, eyes trained on the food in front of him.

“And what do you find so funny?” Seokjin asks, tugging his apron off the hook on the wall to put on. 

“You,” he answers simply, flipping one of the burgers in front of him.

Seokjin makes a face. “I don’t recall making a joke.”

Taehyung looks up at him with a boxy grin. “Oh, no. Your jokes aren’t funny. But the way her ass made you so stupid that you forgot a movie is hilarious. I know for a fact that you’ve seen it at least once because we’ve watched it together.”

Seokjin feels his cheeks heat. Taehyung’s not wrong. He probably would’ve recognized the costume as Lola a lot faster if he hadn’t been almost immediately faced with your ass stretching the fabric and the way the cottontail perched just above it in a way that could only draw you to stare. He scowls, he can’t let Taehyung know he’s right. They all tease him enough as is, this would just be one more thing to add to the pile. He moves over to the younger man and tugs the spatula from his hand.

“Aren’t you supposed to be off work now? Go enjoy your freedom.”

Taehyung only takes a few steps away, perching on the stool they keep behind the counter with a smug look. 

Seokjin sighs. “What?���

He gestures to the food before Seokjin. “That’s my food.”

Seokjin blinks for a moment before groaning. He really played himself here. Now he has no choice but to finish Taehyung’s food.

Seokjin’s positive that he’s prepared for the next time he sees you. He knows to expect something different. And honestly, nothing could be worse than those shorts. Jungkook is there first and Seokjin groans when he sees him. 

“She got to you too?” He whines, looking over the younger man. 

At least his shorts are a more acceptable length than Jimin’s were. And he’s wearing an actual shirt. Really the only thing that signifies that he’s wearing a costume is the pair of bunny ears on his head. Actually, Seokjin’s positive that they’re the ones you were wearing for your Lola Bunny costume. Which confirms that you’re going to be wearing something else. But it’s fine. Seokjin can handle it. 

Jungkook grins and glances out to where a table full of giggling girls sits. “I mean, she had a pretty good idea. The tips have been really good lately.”

“Don’t listen to his grumpy ass, Kookie. You make an adorable bun.” You grin, walking through the door. Seokjin’s eyes trail over your frame immediately, greedy to see what you’re wearing, but all you’ve got on is a thigh length trench coat. “He’s just jealous that no one gets to see his costume.”

Jungkook chuckles as he leaves and it takes Seokjin a moment to realize that he should respond. He frowns. “I’m not wearing a costume.”

Your mouth forms an ‘oh’ of exaggerated surprise, hand coming up to your chest. “You’re not?” 

Your gaze slowly drags over his form and Seokjin suddenly feels a little self conscious that he’s just in sweats and a white shirt. It’s not much, but no one really sees him in here so he just went for comfort today. The way your eyes linger where his apron is tied, accentuating his tiny waist before trailing up to where his biceps stretch his sleeves has the tips of his ears coloring red quickly. He wishes he had longer hair so that you couldn’t see them right now. Then your lips quirk up into a teasing grin.

“Could’ve fooled me. You’ve got the perfect Bob Belcher look going on here, Jinnie.”

Seokjin’s face twists. Bob Belcher? Seriously? That’s how you see him. He scowls, looking over your outfit. “And just what are you supposed to be? A flasher?”

You giggle at his statement, pulling something golden from your bag. A moment later, you’re placing it on your head and he realizes that it’s a short, 4 pointed, gold crown with 4 alternating blue and red gems that sits on a headband so that it stays in place. It looks so familiar but he can’t place why. 

You give him a wry smile. “No, of course not. I had to run to the store so I threw a coat on.”

He rolls his eyes. “Is your costume that-”

He cuts himself off as you slowly slip your jacket off, head tilted as you watch him closely. Now he realizes why the crown looked familiar. Because it’s Princess Peach’s crown. Because apparently you’ve decided to dress like every fantasy he had when he was young once he discovered the Mario games. 

The dress is much shorter than Peach’s is, your’s sits high on your thighs and dips low to show a generous amount of cleavage. You have thigh high white tights one that only accentuate the sliver of thigh that you have on display much the same way your waitress costume did. But this is somehow worse and Seokjin suddenly very much regrets wearing sweatpants today of all days. At least he’s got the apron on.

He turns back to the grill, but the image of you dressed like that will be burned into his brain forever. He might actually die. 

You giggle and he hears the sound of your skates as you move towards the door. “Just have to find a Mario. We’d be so cute together.” And with that you skate out.

Seokjin’s thrilled that it’s finally the day of the party and that it’s finally Halloween. It means he won’t have to deal with you in your costumes anymore. He honestly doesn’t think he can handle anything else after the Peach costume. Or even seeing the Peach costume again. He has no idea what you’ll be wearing tonight and he is torn on which he wants you to wear. 

Yoongi is manning the grill when Seokjin gets there because it’s a Friday so their shifts overlap for the dinner rush before Seokjin will close down for the night. And he saw Hoseok out taking care of a few customers, but he’s unsure if Hoseok was working the earlier shift or if he took Jimin’s shift so the younger man could set up for the party. He hopes it’s the latter, he worries who would come to replace him if he worked the earlier shift. 

He gives him a nod of acknowledgement before focusing again on the grill as Seokjin gets ready for his shift. He had seriously considered skipping the party later since he’s closing and it means he’d get there late. But it’s Jimin’s party and not only would the younger harass him until he came, he also knows it’ll go late into the evening and so his closing shift won’t affect anything. But the late time does mean that he decided to wear his costume to work, well one of them. He has a second one in his car, a stupid idea just in case you happened to wear Peach again. He knows it’s fairly unlikely, but he supposes that the Mario costume sitting on the car seat is at least a little comforting. Maybe an easy way for him to possibly ask you out. Or just embarrass himself. At least it’ll be at a party and he can drink himself silly when he gets rejected. 

But for now, he’s content with his costume. It at least won’t get a snarky comment from you comparing him to Bob Belcher. Because he actually put a little thought into this costume and he’s pretty proud that he managed to pull together such a good Geralt costume. His hair currently being bleach blond also helped give him the idea. The wig for proper accuracy and sword are in his car, they seemed a little impractical to work in, but the rest of the costume was pretty comfortable. The higher waisted pants are different but he thinks they’re pretty flattering and form fitting and the shirt is just billowy enough to give the illusion that he’s a little buffer than he really is. 

The most telling part of the costume is the wolf head medallion hung around his neck. Which he hopes people recognize for what it is and don’t just think he’s wearing some fancy, period style clothes. Plus wearing it now meant that he didn’t have to change either at work while trying to close or show up to the party and change there. And he’s incredibly thankful that Jungkook, nerd that he is, not only had a sword for him to borrow, but actually had a replica specifically of Geralt’s sword. 

Seokjin tugs his apron from the rack, back to the door when he hears it open. He hears Yoongi let out a low whistle. 

“I don’t know who’s attention you’re trying to catch, but consider it caught.” 

Seokjin turns, curious as to who and what Yoongi is talking about and he feels his breath catch in his throat. Because apparently fate is cruel and has decided that you of course would pick up Jimin’s shift and would be the one who closes with him. He licks his lips as his gaze slowly trails over you. 

He doesn’t even know what to take in first. Your black dress is low cut and short, your legs covered in lacy floral tights. But the most distracting part is the glittering body cage that sits over your dress. It cages your breasts in and accentuates them even more than the dress, extended up your chest to form a collar around your throat. Thinner strips cover your shoulders and upper arms, forming a parody of sleeves. The strands curve around your hips, the ends coming together to form a point that just touches the hem of the dress. 

A medallion hangs at your throat, the circular bronze marked with a starburst. You grin at Yoongi as you slip a lace mask on that sits delicately over your eyes. He realizes that you’re dressed as Yennifer. God and not just any outfit, a much skimpier version of the outfit from the orgy scene of all scenes. How is he supposed to survive this shift now?

There’s no way that you knew what he was wearing. This just has to be all a weird coincidence. A very very weird coincidence that has rendered him completely speechless. You glance at him with the ghost of a smile on your lips as you take a seat to swap your ankle boots out for your skates. He gets another brief glance before you’re skating out to join Hoseok outside.

“You’ve got it bad, dude.”

Seokjin jerks at the words, tearing his gaze from your ass to glare at Yoongi. “What are you talking about?”

Yoongi gives him a flat look. “Come on, everyone can see your massive crush on her.” Seokjin shoots a worried glance to where you stand talking to a car and Yoongi gives a chuckle and shake of his head. “Okay, maybe everyone but her. But dude, come on. How long are you going to pine for? Just go for it already.”

“But-”

“There is no but here dude. It wouldn’t make work awkward and it’s very clearly not one-sided. Just ask her.” 

Seokjin huffs. He wants to believe Yoongi, he really does. But he worries that you only flirt with him to see his ears turn red and to tease him. You flirt with the others too and it’s hard to tell if you are just flirty in a friendly way or if you truly want more. And he’d hate to make you uncomfortable at work by making a move on you. He turns and chooses instead to ignore Yoongi for the remainder of their shared shift. It’ll get busy anyway so it’s not like he’ll have to try too hard to avoid any further conversation on the topic of you. Something Seokjin would very much like to keep out of his mind given if he thinks about you for too long, it’s going to go straight to your outfit and he doesn’t really need to pop another boner at work while trying to cook. 

Seokjin gets through almost his entire shift with his sanity intact. There’s 30 minutes until close and there’s only one table here. They seem interested in only getting some drinks, so Seokjin takes the opportunity to slip his apron off and begins cleaning up and getting some of the closing duties out of the way so that he can get out of here sooner and go get very drunk at Jimin’s party and try to pretend that he didn’t nearly see your ass tonight when you bent over in front of him earlier. There was a flash of skin from beneath your skirt and Seokjin had to go spend a few minutes in the freezer. When he came out you looked far too amused.

Seokjin glances out the window, realizing that you haven’t been back inside for a little while and worrying that maybe something happened. But all he sees is you chatting with a table of guys. He’s about to get back to cleaning when one of the guys reaches out to run his fingers down your arm. There’s a coy smile on your face and Seokjin clenches his jaw. He glances at the clock. 5 minutes. 

He debates just kicking them out now. It’s not like Namjoon would fire him for it. He doubts they would even bother complaining beyond making a fuss before they leave. But then your hand comes up to touch his shoulder, just for a moment, and Seokjin’s resolve snaps. He snatches their receipt from the counter where you left it and stalks out of the building. 

You glance up at the sound of the door, smiling a little when you see Seokjin exiting. You and the group of guys startle slightly when he slams his hand onto the table, revealing the bill when he pulls away. 

“We’re closed,” he snarls, grabbing you and directing you back inside. 

You stumble slightly, skates leaving you slightly off balance for the sudden movement but you manage to steady yourself by grabbing Seokjin’s bicep with your free hand and allow him to pull you along inside. He leaves you at the counter as he stomps to the back, muttering something under his breath. You look back outside, seeing the guys exchanging confused looks but they place some money on the table and shuffle off, likely not wanting to see what else Seokjin does when he gets angry. 

You squirm slightly, you’ve never seen him so angry, it’s incredibly hot. Especially with him dressed as Geralt tonight. You wait patiently, watching as the outside lights are shut off and then most of the inside ones as well, casting the kitchen in a faint blue glow from the auxiliary lights that remain on no matter what. 

A moment later Seokjin returns, face set in a harsh look of displeasure. You fight down a grin at pushing him far enough to finally get a reaction. He pauses in front of you, glancing behind you briefly, likely to check that the men have actually left. There’s a soft hum from him that makes your lips twitch up in a small smile and when he catches sight of it, his eyes darken. 

“Something amusing to you, sweetheart?” His cold tone sends a shiver down your spine. 

You blink up at him with faux innocence. “Nothing at all, Jinnie.”

His gaze trails slowly over your face and then he’s reaching and removing the delicate lace mask from your face and tossing it to the counter behind you. 

“I don’t think you’re being honest with me,” he murmurs. He leans forward and your breath catches in your throat, thinking he’s going to kiss you, but he bypasses your mouth, lips brushing your ear as he continues to speak. “I think you did this on purpose and you find it very amusing.”

Your body tingles at his tone, at the way he laces a threat into the seemingly innocuous words. He leans back and you only get a second to admire his smirk before he’s spinning you around and pushing your upper half down against the counter. It takes you a second to get your feet under you with the skates hindering you slightly, but you manage to get yourself stabilized and balanced on your toe stops. 

You plant your hands on the counter to keep stable and glance over your shoulder, only to have your face roughly turned forward once more towards the window. It’s dark out and you know it would be hard to see into the dim windows from the street, but if anyone happens to walk closer, they’d be able to see everything. The thought sends a thrill through you. A hand lands on your ass, cushioned by your dress, but the sudden impact still draws a gasp from your lips. 

“I think,” Jin pauses, fingers trailing lightly across the curve of your ass, “that you have planned all of this with just me in mind, hm?” You don’t know whether he actually wants you to respond or not, but he continues before you can voice anything. “I think someone has been a very bad girl,” the hand on your ass stops and his fingers dig into the flesh harshly. “And that someone needs to be punished,” he finishes with a hiss. 

His hand lands another smack on your ass, a little harder this time, and you feel the slight sting heat your skin. You feel your panties dampen and you squirm as well as you can given the way you have to hold your feet still lest you slip. His hands grope at your cheeks before they slide down enough for him to hook his thumbs under the fabric and he tugs the hem of your dress up and over your ass. 

The hands pause then tighten around the fabric of your dress and you hear him swear under his breath at the sight of your ass clad in black lacy panties, ones that closely resemble your mask, and framed by the lace garter straps of your tights. 

“Fuck… You really did plan this all out…” His hand leaves you again before coming down with a resounding smack, no longer padded by your dress and your thin panties do little to cushion the blow. A moan slips from your lips and Seokjin lets out a dark chuckle. “Oh, are you enjoying your punishment? Well, we’ll just have to fix that, hm?”

He spanks you again, harder this time and you whimper. He hums in approval, hand smoothing over the smarting skin for a moment before he spanks the other cheek just as hard. Your toes curl in your skates at the pleasure-pain that shoots through you. 

Seokjin tsks. “Hm, this just won’t do.” He mutters, seemingly more to himself because you have no idea what he could be thinking until his hand grabs the back of your panties, gathering a fistful of the fabric. It elastic pulls tight across your hips, digging into the skin to the point of discomfort. You whine, trying to push your hips up to relieve the sting but Seokjin just moves with, keeping his grip tight. Then he’s pulling harder, the elastic digging painfully into your skin followed by the sound of seams ripping. A final tug and the fabric tears completely, leaving your ass and pussy bear to Seokjin’s gaze. 

A shudder ripples through you at the display. You can’t believe he just ripped your panties off. You can’t believe how much the action turns you on too. 

A pleased noise rumbles in his chest as the scrap of lace is slipped into his pocket. “That’s much better.”

His hands are back on your ass, no barrier to keep you from feeling the warmth from his palms and the slightly roughened fingertips as they skim across your skin. You push into the touch, greedy for more of the soothing strokes. He chuckles, fingers slipping beneath the garter straps. He tugs them away from your skin before releasing them to let them snap against your skin. 

“Seokjin-” you start, only to be quickly cut off by a sharp smack. 

“Bad girls don’t get to speak unless spoken too, slut.”

You swallow, pussy clenching at his tone. Of all the things you imagined, you never quite imagined something like this. His hand smooths across your skin for a moment before delivering another spank. 

“How many more do you think you deserve, slut?” he muses, hand remaining where it landed with his last smack. 

“I-”

Another smack. “That was rhetorical. I don’t actually take the opinions of sluts.” His hand rubs at your warmed skin for a moment in thought. “I think 20 sounds fair. For all your little stunts with those costumes. For flirting with other guys where I can see. For teasing.” He pauses for a moment and when he speaks again, the harsh edge is gone. “Green means continue, yellow for slow down, and red I stop. Okay?”

It takes you a second to realize what he’s said and then you’re quickly nodding, excitement mounting at what could possibly be to come.

“I need words, princess,” he murmurs, voice softer than it has been since he brought you inside and it makes you melt a little. 

“Yes, I understand.”

“That’s the first time you’ve been good all night, sweetheart.” You can hear the smirk in his voice and it makes you clench at the mean implications that come with such a simple statement. “But now let’s see if you can keep your good girl streak going while you get punished.” Both hands leave you and you want to turn around and look at him, see what he’s doing, but you feel it will only prompt further punishment. “I want you to count. And if you miss one, then we start all over again, got it?”

You’re nodding before he even finishes speaking, trying your best to keep from squirming. “Yes, sir.”

He chuckles. “Such a good girl now,” he coos.

And then his hand is coming down on your ass, softer than his previous smacks and the gentleness makes you gasp. He pauses and waits and you belatedly let a 'one' slip from your lips. He hums in approval and delivers a smack to the other cheek, still just as soft and you murmur a quiet 'two.'

You squirm. You'd expected more harsh hits and the contrast has you aching for him to go a little rougher with you. He smacks again and again. Every slap of his palm against you only adds to the growing pleasurable sting that radiates across the whole surface of your ass.

He stops when he gets to ten, hands rubbing over the warm flesh. "Color?"

"Green, so green," you whine, pushing your ass back into his hands.

He chuckles. "You're so eager for your punishment that I'm starting to think that it might not be a very good punishment." His hand comes down, much harder than any previous spank and you cry out. "Ah, there we go."

Seokjin sounds so indifferent when he speaks, like he's not even bothered by your bare ass and the noises that slip from you with every connection. You wish you could see his face, see if there is any reaction he has. You want to see the indifference as he’s faced with your bare, dripping pussy and spank warmed ass. The next four spanks are just as harsh and tears gather, threatening to fall. It's so pleasurably painful that you can feel yourself dripping down your thighs. He gives you another small reprieve, hands ghosting along your smarting skin as you pant against the counter.

"Hm, there we go, that’s much better. Color?"

You squeeze your eyes closed, taking a moment to try to gather your foggy thoughts. You feel a few tears drip down your cheeks. "G-green."

His fingers dig into your ass then and you whine as you try to squirm away from the sudden flare of pain. Seokjin just chuckles again and digs his fingers in more. He pulls your cheeks apart and you gasp at being suddenly far more exposed. You clench at the burst of cool air across your asshole and pussy, and Seokjin just holds you like that for a long taunting moment. And then he surprises you further by spitting, the glob of spit hitting just above your asshole and beginning to slide down your crack.

You shudder, a moan slipping from your lips as Seokjin halts the spit from sliding too far by pressing his thumb to your hole. You feel yourself go boneless at the pressure. He hums in delight at the way you relax at only a little prodding.

"Oh? Do you like something in your ass too? My, what a naughty girl," he teases, mocking edge making you whine and press further against his thumb.

His thumb circles, pressing lightly against the tight ring of muscle, slowly spreading his saliva around. He plays with your hole, massaging it for a few moments before he's pulling away. He spanks you again and you tense up at the sudden flip from soft rubbing back to the harsh slaps.

"Didn't think I forgot about the rest of your punishment, did you?"

You quickly shake your head. You actually had forgotten that he said twenty and that you still have five left. But you can't let him know how distracted you had been by him playing with your ass. That you forgot you were being punished. That didn’t seem like it would go over well with him. Tears gather in your eyes as his hand lands again, breath punched from you as the pain builds with each swat of his hand.

Your throat feels rough when you finally croak out, 'twenty.'

His hands completely leave you and you tremble against the counter, struggling to keep yourself upright with your legs nearly boneless. You feel warm and floaty all over. 

"Fuck, you look so good like that." You preen at the praise but he’s quick to laugh. And the mocking, mean edge of it has you whining. "You're absolutely dripping. Did you even learn anything from your punishment? Or did you just enjoy it?"

You jolt when his fingers brush against your tender ass before they trail down to your pussy, running the length of your slit and gathering some of your wetness on his fingertips. His fingers leave you once more and a second later you hear him suck his fingers clean.

He groans. "Fuck, I wasn't planning on doing this as part of your punishment but you taste far too good to not give myself a little treat. It is Halloween after all." You can hear the growing smirk when he continues. "Oh, I have a much better idea now anyway."

His fingers trace your pussy lips and you shift, mindlessly trying to get them where you want them. They pull away and Seokjin delivers a quick smack to your pussy, jolting your body at the sudden burst of pain across your sensitive cunt and forcing a surprised yelp from your lips.

"Behave."

You pout, though you assume he can't see it. That is until you glance up at the storefront and see your reflections in the window and the predatory way that Seokjin stares at you. His grin is feral when you make eye contact, like he's been waiting for you to finally look up and realize that he can see your face as well. He keeps staring at you as his fingers slip through your folds again before he lets one slide inside you.

You moan at the intrusion, but it's not enough. You want more already, body warmed from the teasing and spanking already. He’s barely touched your pussy and you’re already so desperate for him. You clench around his finger, hips pushing back to try to get him deeper. He removes his hand again to land another smack to your pussy, dangerously close to your clit. You moan.

"Fuck, you're so dirty. You like getting your slutty pussy spanked just as much as your little ass?"

You nod, desperate to get more of something, anything he's willing to give you. Simply hoping that by agreeing will get you something. Seokjin spanks your pussy again, this time directly over your clit and you cry out, legs nearly giving out beneath you as the pleasure-pain sensation alights your nerves. His finger circles your entrance slowly before slipping inside once again.

"Seokjin please..."

He drags his finger out slowly before thrusting it back in just as slowly, letting you feel every inch of the digit. "What is it? Please what? If you're going to beg, you're going to beg like a proper slut and use. Your. Words." He punctuates the last three words a harsh thrust of his finger after each one, leaving it buried once he's done speaking.

"Please... Wan-" Your voice breaks as his finger presses searchingly against your walls, finding your g-spot quickly and rubbing against the bundle. The action robs you of all thought, losing track of what you had been saying.

"Yes?" He questions mockingly, like he's not distracting you and making it hard for you to form a coherent thought. "Please what?"

You groan, head dropping forward to press your forehead against the cool countertop. The slight chill that seeps through your sweaty skin grounds you a bit. Enough to string together some words. "Want... Wanna cum, please let me cum..."

Seokjin presses more firmly against your spot and your whole body trembles at the wave of pleasure that washes through you, pushing you closer to orgasm.

"Oh? Do you think you deserve that?"

You nod quickly, squeaking when Seokjin removes his finger to slap your pussy again, the only reminder you get to speak. "Yes, yes... Was good and counted the whole time."

He hums thoughtfully. "I suppose you did. So you want to cum, slut?"

You squirm as his fingers tease alone your folds. It’s maddeningly light, nowhere near enough to push you over the edge. "Yes, please, wanna cum, Seokjin..."

His answering hum should send up red flags but he slips two fingers into your pussy, rubbing immediately across your g-spot with each thrust of his hand and you sink immediately into the pleasure it sends through you. You writhe and his free hand comes up to press against your back, pinning you more securely to the counter. It just makes you writhe more, push the boundaries and feel him press you just a little harder into the unmoving counter. 

His thumbs slips forward on the next thrust to brush against your clit. Your belly tightens with every thrust and stroke of his fingers, orgasm rapidly approaching.

“You’re tightening around me so much. Is my little slut close?”

Your nod jerkily, hips twitching as you rock against his fingers. “S-so close…”

Seokjin stops with one last harsh thrust, switching instead to rubbing incessantly at your g-spot while his thumb circles your clit. “Then be a good fucking slut and cum,” he growls. 

He grabs your hair, tugging your head up so that you're forced to stare at his reflection once more. The look on his face makes you shudder and your pussy clenches around his fingers. Your mouth drops open at the feral look in his eyes and the way he seems wholly consumed by watching your every twitch and reaction. One more twist of his fingers has you crying out his name, toes curling in your skates as he pushes you over the edge. His hand releases your hair, a look of warning keeps you from letting your head drop, and his hand comes down in another spank against your ass and you jolt at the added sensation as your orgasm floods your body.

His fingers work you through your orgasm, slowing only marginally as you shake beneath him. You whine when overstimulation starts to take over but you make no moves to stop his movements. The extra sensitivity only adds to the pleasure that still licks away at your veins.

"Wow, too much and you're not even gonna stop me? Fuck, you really are a dirty, needy little slut."

You whine again, pushing your hips back onto his fingers, drawing an amused huff from him. He thumbs your clit roughly, causing your knees to nearly give out, before he's removing his fingers entirely and you pout at the sudden empty feeling you're left with. His hand slips back into your hair, tightening and pulling your head further back so your chest lifts slightly from the counter and you gasp as your attention is pulled back to his reflection. He smirks at you for a moment and then he's releasing you once more. You collapse against the counter, struggling slightly to keep your footing. 

You're suddenly very much regretting the fact that you have to wear skates at work because it's proving to be very dangerous. You wish you could stop and take them off, but you’re certain that Seokjin wants them on for the fact that it keeps you nearly immboile against the counter. You can’t deny that for the struggle to remain upright aside, being forced to stay like this because of your footwear is just another layer to the arousal that has yet to leave you. 

Seokjin's body blankets your's for a moment as he leans over to press a kiss to your shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll give you exactly what you need."

You have no time to question him because he's straightening once more and then his reflection disappears entirely as he drops to his knees behind you. Your throat feels dry as you wait for him to touch you again but the seconds stretch and he does nothing. You squirm, imagining what he must be seeing from his new position behind you, your pussy spread and dripping, hole twitching with the last vestiges of your orgasm. The way your thighs quiver as you force yourself to remain upright.

Embarrassment heats you at being stared at but the moment your legs start to close to attempt to hide yourself, Seokjin's hands grip your thighs, keeping you spread for his gaze to consume. He hums in appreciation, thumbs brushing your folds as he pulls your lips apart to get a better look at your dripping cunt. His breath ghosts across the sodden skin and you think that he's going to finally put his mouth on you but he surprises you when he lips brush gently against your ass.

"S-seokjin?"

He ignores you, peppering kisses across both cheeks, tongue slipping out occasionally to lave across areas made more sensitive by his spanking. He releases your pussy, hands sliding further up to cup your ass, massaging the flesh while his lips move across. It's nothing short of worship and you find yourself quickly getting lost in the attention.

By all means, it shouldn't be as hot as it is. He's barely even doing anything. Just kneading the flesh softly as his lips and tongue ghost across your skin. But every touch sends a spark of electricity up your spine. You wish you could see him, how he must look on his knees, the look on his face. Whether his brow is pinched in concentration like it does when he’s working or if it's relaxed as he takes his time with you.

The first pass of his lips over your asshole draws a soft sigh from you and you can feel the smile that tugs at his lips with his next kiss to your cheeks. He takes his time, only putting the lightest of touches to your hole as he showers attention across your ass. Your mind feels foggy, equal parts on edge for his next move and lulled into complacency by his gentle movements. You trust him to give you what you need, even if you don’t know what it is yet. 

His tongue darts out, circling the tightened ring of muscle with more pressure than he's used before and it causes your entire body to shake. He drifts away again and a whimper slips from your lips at the loss. He moves back to your hole quicker this time, each pass and circle of his tongue coming closer together as he goes.

His fingers dig into your ass, drawing a hiss from you at the flare of pain, and he pulls your cheeks apart. He stops there for a moment and you feel your hole clench at the focused attention.

Seokjin chuckles. "Needy little slut," he coos and then he spits directly onto your hole again.

You moan, feeling as it slowly slides down your ass until it meets your pussy and gets lost in the mess of your slick. He blows cool air where he spat and goosebumps break out across your skin. He blows again and then his mouth is closing over your hole, the sudden warmth has you crying out. Seokjin just hums, tongue tracing your hole.

You shift and Seokjin tightens his grip on your ass, keeping you still and you clench at the casual display of power. He keeps the pressure of his tongue light, enough for you to feel it but keeping you aching for more. And god do you ache for more, his teasing keeps the fire in your belly at just a simmer and you want to be consumed. Your previous orgasm is proving to be nowhere near enough as your clit throbs with need. Seokjin continues his slow pace despite your weak attempts to get him to do something.

He pulls away slightly, breath ghosting over you as he speaks. "If you need something slut, you know how to ask."

And then he dives back in, tongue continuing it's tortuously slow path around your hole. You open your mouth to speak, but Seokjin's tongue dips just inside your hole and you groan at the sudden change. He alternates between slow sweeps of his tongue around your rim and wiggling his tongue just a little deeper into you. The stretch isn't enough to hurt, not with how relaxed his previous attention has left you, and you find yourself wishing that there was just the slightest bit more stretch.

Seokjin's words come back to you and you swallow as you try to articulate your needs to him. "S-seokjin... Need more, please..."

He hums but makes no move to do anything about your whining. He's methodical and it's almost worse than the spanking in how torturous it is.

"Please... Fuck, Seokjin, please, please, please..."

Your begging seems to be what he was waiting for because one of his hands slides from your ass to trace along your slit. You moan at the contact, not expecting him to go for your pussy but you let out a happy noise as a pleasurable shiver runs through you. His fingers find your clit and he runs his fingers around it for a brief second before he’s pinching the sensitive bud. 

You cry out, thighs trying to close instinctively, but Seokjin’s body prevents you from moving them closer than an inch. You feel his smirk against your ass as he pinches again. You whimper, the pain sending sparks of pleasure through your body. He switches to circling your clit, soothing the painful throb he created and it lulls you into a false sense of security for when he thrusts his tongue as deep as he can into your ass. 

You choke on a moan as he thrusts his tongue in again, pairing it with another, slightly more gentle, pinch to your clit. You press your face to the counter, struggling to catch your breath amongst the assault of sensations that Seokjin lavishes upon you. But your attempts are nearly useless as he constantly changes what he’s doing, giving you no time to get used to anything and managing to surprise you with every single twist of his fingers and every thrust and curl of his tongue. 

While you struggle to keep yourself upright, you can feel your orgasm steadily building from the constant attention of his mouth and the abuse to your clit. It’s only a matter of time before you cum again. But you know you can’t, not without his okay, although the thoughts that flit through your mind of possible punishments for cumming without permission are incredibly enticing. That can wait for another day. 

“G-gonna… Gonna cum, can I cum? Please, Seokjin… p-please let me cum…” you babble, feeling that knot inside you continuing to tighten and you can only try to stop it for so long. 

He pulls away, teeth nipping at the underside of your ass while his fingers continue to play with your clit. His mouth drifts a little lower and his teeth dig into the meat of your thigh. 

“Please!” you shudder, the added pain pushing you much faster towards your end.

His tongue traces soothingly over where he just bit, but he remains maddeningly silent. You blink away tears, though you’re not sure if they’re from the pain, frustration, or pleasure. 

“Please…” you whimper. 

He shifts to the other cheek, biting down again and you’re so close to cumming now. His tongue soothes the spot once more and you feel your body tensing with the first inklings of orgasm.  

But just as you reach the edge, nearly toppling over into the pleasure, Seokjin is pulling his hands and mouth away from your body, stopping your orgasm in its tracks. 

You let out a sob, a pitiful, whiny ‘no’ slipping from your lips as a few tears slide down your cheeks as your orgasm slowly slips through your fingers. 

“I don’t recall saying you could cum.” His hand comes down on your ass, right on top of where he bit. 

“I a-asked… Please, I was good.”

“You asked, but I didn’t say yes, slut.” His hand swats at your pussy next and you nearly cum from the action with how on edge you are. 

Seokjin seems to notice if his dark snicker is anything to go by. “Oh? You liked that? Seems you liked it a lot, you made such a mess of my fingers.” He slaps your pussy again and it jolts you closer to orgasm again. “Think you could cum just from me spanking your slutty little pussy? Fuck, I want to try. Do you want that, dirty girl?”

You nod without thinking. You’d do just about anything if it means you get to cum. And the sting only makes the pleasure feel all the better. “Please…”

You hear him shuffle for a moment, the sound of fabric rustling, before he’s nipping at your ass again, leaving teasing stings until his tongue can swirl around your asshole once more. His hand slaps your pussy the same time that his tongue slips back into your tight hole. You gasp and he starts alternating thrusts of his tongue with smacks to your clit.

Your body feels wound tight, every sensation that Seokjin showers on you sending you so much closer to the edge. It feels like you and Seokjin have been doing this for years with how well he seems to be able to read your body. You cry out as Seokjin pinches your clit once more, thighs quivering with the effort it takes to keep you standing.

Seokjin's tongue slips from your hole, but he remains close, lips brushing the sensitive furl as he speaks. "Come on, slut. We both know you can cum from this. Be good and let go for me."

His tongue circles your hole slowly and then it's slipping back in and he picks up a fast pace of fucking you with his tongue, interspersed with slaps and pinches to your clit, seemingly using no method and keeping you on your toes in guessing what will come next. Your high crests from the mixture of pleasure and pain and you cum with a sob, pussy clenching around nothing. Seokjin's fingers press to your clit as the first ripples of your orgasm rush through you and he skillfully draws your orgasm out for as long as possible. Your body feels electrified, pushed into overstimulation but your breath has been completely robbed from you with how good everything feels too, at the way Seokjin so easily manipulates your body to his every whim.

Slowly, he pulls his mouth and fingers from you, sitting back on his heels. You pant against the counter, hot air blowing back into your sweaty face but you're too exhausted to care. You kind of just want to slide off the counter and lay down on the floor, even though it's the kitchen floor and is probably gross. Seokjin pats your ass and it somehow feels condescending and you feel your pussy give a weak twitch.

"Enjoying yourself, slut?" All you can muster is a pitiful whine, which draws a snicker from him. "I certainly hope you are, because we're far from over."

You whine again. You honestly don't know if you could take more. Your body has never been so worked over without actually being fucked too. You don't even know what else he could do short of fucking you finally. Which had been the goal of this whole game to begin with, but he's far surpassed your expectations. Maybe you should push his buttons more often if it results in being so utterly ruined. You definitely know that no one else will ever be able to make you feel as good as he has. Seokjin's hands rub soothingly at your thighs and the action is so grounding that you feel a little dizzy.

"Color, sweetheart?" His voice is soft and gentle, so different from the mean tone that's been coloring it until now.

It takes you a moment to be able to speak, but you manage to get out a raspy 'green.'

"Need any water or a break?"

You think about it for a moment. You could take a break. Maybe take your skates off. But you really don't want to either. There's something about not being able to move that makes it even better, makes you feel powerless even though Seokjin has plainly handed you all the power here. You just want more. 

You shake your head. "I'm good."

His hands massage at your thighs for a few more moments before his fingers dig harshly into the newly relaxed muscle. You gasp and he gives a chuckle. "What a good little slut you're being now."

"Yes... 'm good."

Seokjin chuckles darkly. "That remains to be seen. You haven't even gotten my cock yet and you can barely even speak properly anymore. Not so cocky now, huh?"

He gives your ass a quick swat, it's far more teasing than meant to cause you any pain. His hands slide up your thighs until they just meet your ass and then his thumbs are pulling your soaking folds apart with a groan. Mirroring his earlier actions, he blows cool air across your pussy and you shudder at the way it feels against your heated cunt. His tongue lightly traces your folds and he lets out a contented noise like he’s tasting the most exquisite dish he’s ever eaten. 

Then he’s licking a wide stripe up your slit and you cry out, pussy so sensitive after two orgasms already. Seokjin eats you out like a starving man, tongue working over every inch of your pussy, mapping every spot that makes you twitch and moan. You writhe, or at least you try your best with Seokjin’s hands holding your ass and keeping your lower half mostly immobile. 

Seokjin pulls back with a smack of his lips. “For such a little devil, you certainly taste like heaven.” He snickers before diving back in. 

His plump lips wrap around your clit, tongue flicking lightly at the nub before he sucks. Fire simmers in your veins and you’re surprised at how quickly your orgasm builds again when he’s barely done anything just yet. He suckles lightly, pleasure surging through you. Releasing your clit with a pop, his tongue drags agonizingly slowly up to circle your entrance. He’s methodical, tracing around your hole with just the right amount of pressure before dipping back down to mouth at your clit and then back again. 

You feel yourself dripping, Seokjin noisily lapping up all that you have to give him. Seokjin’s fingers massage up to your ass, digging in and sending a spark of pleasure through you from the sting his grip brings. A hand abandons your ass, finger joining his mouth on your cunt. They work in tandem, fingers toying with your clit while he licks into your pussy. Then they switch, two fingers slipping deep inside you as his lips wrap around you clit once more. 

Time slips away from you, your mind hazy and body on edge as Seokjin plays with your pussy to his heart’s content. His tongue presses at your hole with a little more force and then his teeth graze the sensitive skin and you moan. You feel his smile when he presses his lips against you next and then his tongue is sliding into you. You moan as his fingers pinch at your clit at the same time. 

Heat pools in your belly as he starts fucking his tongue into you and you babble as you feel your orgasm rising as his fingers circle your clit, begging to cum again. He gives you a gentle pat on the ass with his free hand which you assume is meant to be his form of permission since he seems to not want to remove his mouth from your cunt. His fingers move faster and you teeter on the edge. You’re so close. So close that it’s driving you delirious with pleasure. But you just can’t quite get there, missing something that you can’t even fathom let alone ask for. 

Seokjin, ever perspective, seems to know exactly what you need as he slips a finger in with his tongue, pressing down on your g-spot and making you cry out. The insistent pressure combined with the fingers on your clit and tongue still thrusting into sends you over the edge. Bliss floods your body and you feel yourself gush around Seokjin’s tongue and fingers. He drinks up what he can before he’s pulling his mouth away with a curse. 

“Fuck, what a messy fucking slut. You made such a mess squirting, you little whore. I just cleaned these floors. I should make you lick them clean.” You clench around his fingers at his words and he lets out a dark chuckle. “Fuck you like that? Of course you would, you wouldn’t be my dirty little slut otherwise.”

His fingers continue their ministrations and you whine that it’s too much. Seokjin pays you no mind, slipping another finger into you. 

“Come on, slut. I know you can cum again.”

You shake your head. “C-can’t… not… No more…” You squirm, trying your best to get away from the relentless pressure against your clit and g-spot. 

His fingers slow for a moment. “Color?”

You swallow. It hurts, but not necessarily in a bad way. It doesn’t feel like it’d be too much to go on. You’ve never been pushed so far and there’s a thrill that runs through you when you think about discovering what exactly your body can take, even more excited that Seokjin is the one to test the bounds and that he makes sure to check in, to remind you that the safe words are there if it’s too much. You trust him to listen if you need to slow down. But you don’t want to, not right now.

You can feel your wetness literally dripping down your thighs and seeping into your tights makes you feel warm all over, overcome with a need to see how soaked they could get. “G-green, please…”

Seokjin hums, fingers picking their pace back up. “There’s my good little slut. Come on, cum for me like a good little whore.”

His mouth latches onto you again and you shudder, body still worked up from your squirting orgasm that it takes so little effort for Seokjin to push you over the edge again. Your mouth drops open on a soundless scream, pussy convulsing as you gush around his fingers, wetness dripping down his hand and to the floor. You whimper and Seokjin carefully slips his fingers from you. He laps gently at your folds, just enough to send tingles of pleasure up your spin.

He pulls away with a groan. “I could eat you out all night.”

You’re torn between imagining the idea and fearing for your poor pussy if he were to actually do that. He stands and you lift your head enough to look at his reflection when it comes back into view. Your breath catches in your throat when your gaze is met with his bare chest. You have no idea when he had stripped his shirt off and you mourn the fact that you didn’t get to see and appreciate the sight more. He shifts slightly and his chin and chest glistens and you feel your body heat with embarrassment when you realize that you were the cause of that. He meets your gaze and winks.

“Think you’re ready for my cock, slut?”

You whine. You honestly don’t know how much more you can handle, but at the same time, you absolutely have to have him inside you. “Please, Seokjin, please… want it.”

His hands give your ass a quick squeeze before they’re leaving you and you can see him focusing on his pants. You curse your current position and the fact that it keeps you from being able to see his cock in all its glory. You know it’s got to be beautiful. It’d be criminal if it wasn’t. 

He smacks your ass with his cock, leaving a smear of precum across the skin. God, how long has he been hard for? How did he hold out for this long? You squirm and he chuckles. 

“Beg a little more, slut.”

You wiggle your ass, pouting. “Please, Seokjinnie… Please, I want it. Want your cock, wanted it for so long… Please I-”

Seokjin cuts your begging off as he roughly thrusts into you. You cry out, hands scrambling for purchase against the counter as his cock stretches you out all at once. He’s huge, so much bigger than you ever dared imagine. Long and girthy and so perfect to fill every inch of your pussy. You’re honestly not sure how he fits, you feel full to bursting with him buried to the hilt in your cunt. You wished you’d gotten to take your time with it, had him stuff it down your throat. The thought makes saliva pool in your mouth. You’re definitely going to repay the favor and worship his cock when you get the chance.

He swears. “Fuck… your cunt…”

His fingers dig into your hips as he holds himself still for a moment. Then he’s pulling out until just the tip remains before slamming back it, jolting you forward against the counter. Seokjin starts a fast pace, immediately overwhelming you and giving you almost no time to adjust to him. 

His grip tightens on your hips, enough to feel like it’ll be a bruise by morning. “Think you can cum again for me, slut? Cum on my cock for me, baby?”

You whine and shake your head. “N-no… please, can’t…”

Seokjin slams into you, draping himself over you and letting a hand snake around your throat. He waits, giving you a chance to say no to this and when he receives no denial, he squeezes lightly. You gasp and he squeezes a little tighter. You feel lightheaded and if it wasn’t for Seokjin’s body pinning you to the counter, you’d probably slide to the floor. Keeping his grip on your throat, he grinds into you, savoring the way your pussy clenches around him.

He loosens his hold slightly and meets your gaze in the window. “You’re going to cum for me again. And your pretty little cunt is gonna milk every drop of cum I have to give you. How does that sound, baby? Want me to fill your slutty little cunt up?”

As much as you don’t want to, you honestly have no idea if your body is even capable of having another orgasm, you want to find out. And the thought of Seokjin fucking you full on top of it has you nodding to his words almost instantly. “Yes, please… Seokjin, please, fill me up…”

His hand tightens again and he gives you a pleased smirk. “You’re so well behaved now. Hard to believe how much of a naughty little brat you’ve been lately.” 

He switches from grinding to thrusting again, though his position over you means that his thrusts are shorter but no less rough. His other hand slides around to your front, fingers brushing your clit. You clench around him and receive a low moan from him as his grip on your throat loosens again. His fingers circle your clit and you can feel your orgasm quickly creeping up on you. You briefly wonder if it’s possible to die from too many orgasms. But then Seokjin nips at your neck, drawing your focus back to the way his cock drags along your walls and the filth he’s murmuring into your skin as his fingers work faster. 

It washes over you and you cum with a cry of his name, pussy convulsing around his cock. You feel his breath puff against your skin as his forehead presses to your shoulder. His hand falls away from your clit, planting itself once more on your hip as his thrusts pick up speed now that he’s chasing his own end. 

Seokjin’s hips stutter to a stop as he cums with a groan pressed to your skin. His cock twitches inside you as he empties himself in your pussy, filling you up. You sink against the counter, praactically purring in contentment at the flood of warmth that he releases within you. He pants against your skin for a long moment and you let your exhaustion slowly wash over you. You’d give anything for a bed right now and to never have to move again. 

Seokjin pushes himself up and then slowly slips out of you. You whine at the loss and you get a soft chuckle. His hands rub soothingly at your back before they come to rest on your waist. He gives you a squeeze.

“I’m gonna help you stand and get you sitting on the counter, okay?”

You groan. “Don’t wanna…”

Seokjin huffs a soft laugh. “I don’t care. I need to make sure you’re okay and we need to get your skates off.”

He starts moving you, though you know you aren’t much help with how jelly-like your limbs feel. He finally gets you seated on the counter and it takes all your remaining strength to stay sitting upright. You blink hazy eyes at Seokjin; he’s tucked himself back into his pants but they still remain undone, giving you the faintest glimpse of his cock. You pout, you’d wanted to see it. 

His hands cup your cheeks, directing your gaze to his eyes and you blink slowly at him. He gives you a soft smile. “There you are.” His thumbs stroke gently across your cheeks, wiping away the last bits of your tears. “Can you stay sitting up for me? I’m going to get you some water, okay?”

You nod, frowning when his hands leave your face. You want him to keep touching. He turns, grabbing a cup and quickly filling it with water. He hands it to you, helping you when it almost slips through your lax grip. He makes you drink half before he lets you set the cup down. He leans down and makes quick work of your skates, tugging them from your feet. You sigh in relief, feet flexing at finally being free from their confinements and a surprised noise leaves your lips when you feel his thumbs dig into the soles of your feet. He rubs each foot and you nearly fall asleep from the relaxation that slowly spreads through your system.  

Seokjin stands, his hands coming back up to cup your face. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” you croak out, lips pursing at how wrecked your voice comes out.

You can see Seokjin fight down a prideful grin as his thumbs stroke your cheeks. It’s silent for a few moments before he’s gasping and you give him a questioning look. He tuts, though you don’t know if it’s directed at you or himself.

“All that and I haven’t even kissed you yet.”

You giggle, he does all that and is worried about the fact that he didn’t kiss you at all. He tilts your head up, soft smile pulling at the corner of his lips. You blink at him for a moment, not expecting him to follow through with fixing that. But when he leans in, you let your eyes slip shut. The kiss is sweet and chaste, the complete opposite of everything that just happened. It lasts for just a moment and you ache to have more of the feel of his plush lips pressed against yours. 

He grins as he pulls away and then busies himself with finding your shoes and your bag, helping you into them. He presses a kiss to your forehead and presses the water back into your grip with the instruction to finish it. He slips his shirt back on, tucking it back into his pants and then he’s darting out the door. Which confuses and alarms you for a split second before you realize that he’s grabbing that money that then men had left on the table. 

He’s quick to cash the ticket out, slipping the hefty tip they left you into your purse before taking the drawer back to the office. He’s gone for a few minutes and you sip slowly at the water while you wait. Now that you’re alone, you wonder what all of that meant. If it was just a culmination of sexual tension and frustration or if there was something more there. Hoseok and Jimin have regularly pushed you to tell Seokjin how you feel. But you’ve always kept that hidden, not wanting to make work suddenly weird when this job and your coworkers are the best you’ve ever had.

And the costumes hadn’t gotten Seokjin to ask you out or offer to be the other half of the pair costumes despite the hints you tried dropping. Maybe he just wasn’t interested in that and just wanted a quick fuck. But some of his actions disprove that. Maybe he was just as nervous as you to ask. 

He reappears, pressing another kiss to your forehead as he takes the empty glass from you and sets it aside. 

“Think you can stand now?”

You shake your legs out experimentally. You certainly seem to have a little more control over them. “I can try.”

That draws an amused snort from him and he helps you down from the counter, hands not leaving you until he’s sure that you’re safe to stand on your own. You adjust your dress, pulling it back down and wincing slightly as the slightly rough material drags over your ass. Your bare ass. You glance around the floor. 

“Hey, where are my underwear?”

Seokjin’s back is to you as he wipes down the part of the counter you were just sitting on. “Oh, they’re completely ruined.” He glances at you over his shoulder with a smirk. “And mine now.”

You squirm, feeling some of his cum drip from your abused cunt. Well at least you’re just going home. You can make it that far. Not that they would’ve been much use to you ripped anyway. Maybe you should make him buy you a new pair. That request might come after the feelings talk though. 

Once he’s done, he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his chest and pressing a kiss to your hair. “Ready to go?”

You hum and nod. You are seriously ready to sleep for a day. You’re glad that you don’t work tomorrow. You don’t think Seokjin does either. Maybe you can entice him to stay the night and you could cook him breakfast before the two of you talk. 

Seokjin leads you out of the building, locking the door as you go, and guides you towards his car. Your’s is at home, though you’re not sure if Seokjin already knew that or is just directing you towards his car because he doesn’t trust you to drive right now. To be fair, you don’t think you could actually drive if you had to. You’re glad that you’d been planning to drink at the party and so you were just going to either catch a ride, stay at Jimin’s, or get an Uber so that your car isn’t left in the lot overnight. 

Once settled, he starts the car and pulls out of the lot. You frown watching him turn. 

“Seokjin, I live the other way.”

“I know.”

“And you live the other way.”

He smirks. “I know.”

You swallow. “Where are we going?”

“Well, it’s a shame for you to get all dressed up for a party and to not even go to show it off.”

“I can’t go to a party like this!” You only briefly caught sight of your full reflection but you know how fucked out you look. He can’t seriously be taking you to the party right now. 

Seokjin’s hand lands on your thigh. “You had no problem going to work like that.”

You whine and squirm, immediately squeezing your legs together when you feel another dribble of cum slip from you. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Seokjin just hums, driving the rest of the short distance to Jimin’s house in silence. You try your best to fix yourself up in the mirror so you don’t look completely ruined. It’s only slightly effective. You wish you had Yennifer’s powers, then you could just magic your way home. Would serve Seokjin right. 

He parks and helps you out of the car before reaching into the back for a wig and a sword. He adjusts both items and you look him over appraisingly. 

“At least you’ve got Geralt’s brutish personality down.” You tease. 

Seokjin takes your hand and presses a kiss to it before using it to lead you to the house. “I’d like to think I’m far more charming than him.”

You giggle. “That remains to be seen.”

The party is in full swing when you enter and it takes the both of you a few moments to find your friends. When you do, they all are quick to take in your appearance and the way Seokjin’s hand is wrapped around yours. Jimin crows victoriously, slapping Taehyung on the back.

“I told you! You owe me!”

You bury your face in Seokjin’s shoulder to hide your embarrassment. You just wanted to go home and cuddle. Seokjin’s lips brush your ear.

“If you promise to stay a while, we can get revenge on him and go fuck in his bed.”

#btsholidaybingo #bangtanarmynet #hyunglinenetwork #btsguild #kwritersworldnet #thekimlinenet #ksmutclub #magicshopnet #btswriterscollective #bangtanhq #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #seokjin fanfic #jin x reader #jin smut #jin fanfic

[shuadotcom]

Open Wide | MYG (M)

🍎 Summary: Yoongi watches you bob for apples and can’t help but think about what else your mouth can do. 🍎 Pairing: Yoongi x Female!Reader 🍎 Genre: Smut, pwp, established relationship 🍎 Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED) 🍎Warnings: Teasing, fingering, oral (male receiving), roadhead, cursing, dirty talk, slight dom-ish Yoongi 🍎 Word Count: 1.9k 🍎 A/N: For @btsholidaybingo​  Bingo Square: Bobbing for Apples | Songspo: Partition - Beyoncé Huge thank you also to the lovely @nightowls388​ for beta-reading this for me, I love you Beezy!! ❤️❤️

You could feel Yoongi’s eyes on you all night, although to be fair, he has been eyeing you before you even left the house. He went as far as to beg to skip the party to stay home so he could have his way with you.

After reminding him that in addition to this being Jimin’s Halloween party, it was also his housewarming party, and he would be expecting you both to be at the unveiling of his newly purchased condo. He would surely notice if you both were missing.

Begrudgingly, he agreed, but it didn’t stop him from taking every opportunity to practically fuck you with his eyes all night.

It’s after you’ve been at the party for about two hours when a lull in conversation with a group of friends occurs that he finally puts his hands on you. His long, sinful fingers snake up the back of your white mini dress and pull on the waistband of your panties.

“I shouldn’t have let you out of the house in his dress,” he mumbles into your ear, his breath hot on your neck. “It barely covers your ass, and your tits are practically spilling out.” He sticks his hand down your panties, giving you a rough squeeze.

“You’re the one that said you’d only do a couple’s costume if you got to pick, and you’re the one who chose Chucky and Tiffany. You knew what this dress looked like.” The way his fingertips dig into your flesh has your knees weak, but you’re still very aware of all of your friends so close to you.

“Well, you’d better hope we can go home soon. I’m this close to bending you over the couch and fucking you in front of everyone.” Heat rushes both to your face and to your core at the thought. Before you can reply, Jimin is in front of you, clearly tipsy.

“Noona! Come bob for apples with us!” Yoongi yanks his hand out of your panties at the same time Jimin latches onto your arm and tugs you into the dining room.

In the dining room are two large party tubs, both full of apples lolling around in the water (the freshly poured water, Jimin has assured you). Most of the partygoers are gathered around, waiting for the game to begin. Jimin directs you to stand next to the orange tub while he positions himself next to the red one. A few other people surround each tub as Namjoon sets his phone timer for 30 seconds and signals that the game has begun.

You make sure your blonde bob wig is tucked behind your ears, and after taking a gulp of air, you submerge your face, lips immediately wrapping around a red apple and popping up with it in your mouth.

Everyone in the room applauds as you’re the first person to grab one. You quickly drop it on the floor next to you and go back in for another. Even though everyone is watching, you can feel Yoongi’s eyes specifically. You know he’s looking at the bottom of your ass that pokes out of your dress each time you dive back into the tub. His gaze is hot and deliberate, especially when you teasingly wiggle your hips so that your dress rides up a little higher.

Knowing you have his attention, you make eye contact with him over your shoulder when you emerge with your next apple. You adjust the way your lips are wrapped around the fruit between your teeth, and his eyes follow. His piercing brown eyes fixate on your mouth as you let it drop slowly, a string of saliva following its path. Yoongi makes a fist, and you can practically see the way his brain is imagining himself following through on his earlier threat of fucking you in front of everyone. Each time you come up for air with another apple, the tension between the two of you grows even more.

“Time!” Namjoon calls as you drop your last apple onto the ground. After he counts everyone’s fruit, he names Jungkook, the winner, who only beat you by one. You offer him a five and congratulate him. When you turn back to Yoongi, he’s looking at you with the same look you had felt during the game, and his arms are crossed over his chest.

“How’d I do, babe?” You ask, sidling up next to him. Without a word, he takes your arm and beelines you both over to Jimin, who’s standing with Taehyung and Seokjin.

“Hey, you guys, we’re going to head out. I don’t feel too good. I think I had something shitty for lunch earlier.”

You can tell Jimin is about to start whining about you staying, but Taehyung cuts him off and wraps his arm over his shoulder. “Sorry to hear that, hyung, but thank you two for coming!” He pulls you both in for a hug, then nudges Jimin to hug you as well. Yoongi guides you through the condo quickly, saying goodbye to everyone else as you go.

Once you’re out of the building and seated in the car, he’s on you. His lips are moving against yours fiercely, and he’s kissing you with nothing but pure lust as he works your mouth open, his tongue tangling with yours.

“You drive me so insane, you know that?” He pants between kisses. His hand grasps your thigh and pushes your dress higher. “Teasing me on purpose in there to get me frustrated. What if I take you right here in the car?”

“Yoongi, no, we have to go home.” You’re whimpering as his fingers trail up to press against your clothed clit. It only takes a few quick rubs against your sensitive bud to have you wet, your panties sticking to you. A single, slender digit slides inside of you, making you whine into his mouth. He thrusts his finger in and out of you slowly, teasingly, but it’s still enough to have you writhing in the seat. Yoongi’s fingers are truly dangerous and can usually have you falling apart within minutes.

He pulls away from you suddenly before you can cum, leaving you breathless. “No…” you whine out. He ignores you as he starts the car and speeds away from the curb.

The drive back to your shared apartment is not a long one, maybe fifteen minutes without traffic. All you can think of is what you want Yoongi to do to you when you’re in your bedroom, but he has something else on his mind that he wants now. You watch as he rolls to a stop at a red light and unzips the fly of his overalls.

“Since you wanted to show off how good you are with your mouth, you’ll suck me off now. If you want me to fuck you stupid tonight, make me cum before we get home.” He pulls his cock out of the opening in his boxers, and you see he’s already half-hard.

Yoongi didn’t have to tell you twice. You wrap your hand around his cock, loving how hot and heavy it feels in your palm.  With both hands, you pump him slowly a few times, glancing up at his face just in time to watch his teeth grit. The traffic light turns green, and he accelerates so hard that it jostles you, and you squeeze him harder out of reflex.

“Fuck!” He hisses. “Do that again, baby.” Your grip around him tightens again as he struggles to keep his eyes open.

Moving to lean over the center console for a better angle, you hover over his lap and lick up the bead of pre-cum that seeps out. You savor the salty, heady taste of him and dip your tongue into his slit for more. Yoongi’s fingers weave through your blonde wig as he attempts to push your head down more.

You oblige, opening your mouth wide, letting him guide you further onto his cock. Bringing your hand up, you wrap it around the base of him as your hand and mouth work in unison, moving up and down over him. The car slows, and you hear the clicking of the turn signal mixing with the breathy grunts Yoongi lets out as you messily suck him off.

Yoongi usually prefers to have your head hanging off of the bed so he can stand over you and fuck into your throat. The way his fingers grip onto the synthetic strands on your head clue you in on how frustrated he must be that he can’t thrust into your mouth properly.

“We’ll be home in five minutes, baby,” he breathes, his sentence ending in a choke when you twirl your tongue around his cockhead. Being a man of his word, you know Yoongi won’t fuck you like you want if he doesn’t cum before then. Your pussy practically weeps at the idea of being unfulfilled.

Taking a deep breath, you push yourself to take him all the way down your throat. When your nose hits his pubic bone, and he lets out a long whine, you know you’re doing the right thing. You breathe out of your nose as you repeatedly bob your head, letting the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat each time. Yoongi’s groans get louder as the car continues to speed, and he nearly tears the wig off of your head with how hard he’s gripping onto it.

You know your black lipstick is most likely smeared across your mouth, but Yoongi’s so close now. He’s moaning nonstop and cursing in between each breath he takes, which means he is all that much closer to cumming. You’re not sure how near to home you are, but you intend to get what you want, so you bring your hand up to cup his balls and begin massaging him, which will be what you need to bring him over the edge.

Sure enough, seconds later, with spit dribbling out of your mouth and a loud shout of your name, Yoongi cums. The hot, sticky liquid shoots down your throat as he holds your head in place and thrusts up a few more times.

The car is thrown into park then, and Yoongi releases his hold, both of you gasping for air. You’re parked in your assigned parking spot, which means you had made him cum seconds before he pulled in.

“Fuck, baby,” he grunts out once he’s no longer panting. His head is lolling back against the headrest, and you see the sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“Did I do good?” You ask, even though you already know the answer. You check your reflection, and just as you suspected, your lipstick has spread to your chin and even to the tip of your nose. Your wig is halfway off your head, and your eyes are bloodshot with your eyeliner horrendously smudged.

Yoongi turns to you, a lazy grin on his face. “I’ll let you be the judge when I make you cum on my face for the fourth time in a row after we get inside.” His words send a shiver through your entire body and have you practically stumbling out of the car.

During the short elevator ride up to your floor, Yoongi’s hands grip your hips tightly. You make a mental note to remind him of how talented you are with your mouth more often if it leads to what’s about to happen tonight.

#btsholidaybingo #btsnoonanet #hyunglinenetwork #heartsforbts #btswritingcafe #ficswithluv #houseofddaeng #bangtanarmynet #bangtanhq #bangtanuniversity #btsbookclub #btswriterscollective #magicshopnet #thebtsficarchive #thebtswritersclub #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #yoongi fic #bts fanfic

[yeojaa]

( SOMETHING COMFORTING. )

Jeon Jungkook loves Overwatch, drinking games, and Halloween.  What he loves more than that?  You.

pairing.  gamer!jjk x named f!reader.

genre + rating.   idol!au set in room filled with bunnies and a cotton candy machine that’s exploded.  it’s just that fluffy.  (but also explicit cause why not.)

tags / warnings.  established relationship, gaming (overwatch), dorky weeb references, mentions of drinking, yugyeom makes an appearance (!!), fingering, soft soft soft love making in the shower. 

wc.  9.7k

beta reader(s).  the lovely @kerikaaria​​​ read through this to make sure i didn’t get too nerdy.  tysm!  💛  i may like further changes once my beloved @hobi-gif​ gets her hands on it but i’m a potato who wanted to post this quickly.  oops... 

author note.  this fulfills the “jeon jungkook” square of @btsholidaybingo​‘s bts holiday bingo 2020 and this is the couple from angels & airwaves.  while this story isn’t super plot-driven, it’s meant to be a little peek into the lives of a couple that live in my mind rent-free and continue to make me soft and gooey inside.  i hope you enjoy it!   

You don’t know how he talked you into it or how it really happened.  You remember, faintly, the mention of a party.  Something about it being a small thing - just a few close friends, the members, etc.  He’d said it so offhand, like commenting on the sky or asking for another package of Choco Boys, so you hadn't given it a second thought.  If it was important, he’d bring it up again and if not, well, you hardly remembered it anyway.  Win-win or whatever.  

So you’d given up some intelligence points, traded them for space to fit more gaming knowledge.  Somewhere along the line went your memory too - the conversation wiped from your brain like Will Smith had lasered it clean. 

“Zarya’s one!  Zarya’s one—“  You’re not sure how many times you can repeat yourself, shrieking through comms to a team that doesn’t seem to want to listen.  You’re blasted into oblivion, Mercy’s prone body launched across the map as you watch your Rein fall too.  There’s an irritation bubbling in your stomach, fizzing uncomfortably like the Japanese honeydew soda you’d had at lunch.  “Zarya’s actually one!” 

No one cares.  She’s healed by the time you respawn and make it back across the map. 

“Jesus—“  Your push-to-talk remains off for that flippant comment, distaste colouring your words a bitter shade of blue.  You almost want to let your Ashe get headshot by the enemy Widow, only switching the stream from damage boosting to healing when your teammate starts spamming their hotkey.  

I need healing!  I need healing! 

What you need is a team that listens to your calls or at the very least communicates in some way.  Doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen though.  There’s near radio silence in the voice chat, the only other person remotely helpful being your bouncing booping Lucio that’s trying to keep a flanking Tracer off point.  Stupid.  You almost feel bad for him, Guardian Angeling to him when no one else seems to want to offer any support. 

Ah, the life of a support player in masters ranked.  So infuriating and yet— nope.  Just infuriating. 

You lose the first round with 1:56 to spare, to no one’s surprise.  Okay, maybe to your Reinhardt’s surprise.  He’s being surprisingly chipper in text chat, sending WP and a dorky smiley face.  You think he must volunteer at the local animal shelter and buy coffee for the people behind him in the drive-thru.  He’s far too well-adjusted, not shooting off a single accusation to anyone on the team.  A silver lining, you suppose.  

Your second round starts well enough.  Your comp is solid - as much as it can be in the current off-tank dominated meta.  Hog, Zarya, a private profiled GM Widowmaker, Tracer, Lucio, and you as Ana.  You’d prefer to play Mercy - find the most comfort in her skill set - but on an attack map, you’re not risking a headshot right out of spawn.  Broken maximum damage good stuff means healers are squishy and you don’t have your usual DPS to boost.  (He’s off doing god knows what - maybe filming an ad for Samsung or breaking the internet with his permed man bun.)

You make it through the choke without much ado.  The enemy Rein is wildly out of position, eager to make some big brained play that goes terribly wrong.  Your Lucio chuckles through voice and you join him, tossing a nade when your Zarya looks like she’s about to die to a poorly executed 360 shatter. 

“You winning?” 

It’s your boyfriend peeking over your shoulder, so close you nearly scream, mouse launched across your desk with the intensity of your reaction.  You hadn’t heard him come in, the stupid sneaky bastard as quiet as a mouse.  

(It’s not your own fault.  He knows you can’t hear anything when you’ve got your headphones on, the noise cancelling in your state of the art Sennheisers not something to scoff at.)

“Jeez, Kook!”  You want to be more mad.  Really, you do.  You’re scrambling across your desk to retrieve your mouse, squeaking a quick apology into team voice when your hero stays in one place for too long.  Luckily, Hog - previously sweet kind Rein - throws his big fat piggy self directly in front of you, effectively saving you from an otherwise miserable death at the hands of Torbjorn. 

“What?”  Jeon Jungkook has the audacity to look scandalised, shiny eyes so wide and innocent they feel more as if they belong in an early 2000s anime. 

You’re not even looking at him when you huff - too invested in your Overwatch game to give him the hell he deserves.  All you manage is a swift don’t scare me like that! as you pump your tanks back to full health.  

You notice Jungkook hasn’t moved away, still peering curiously over your shoulder.  You know he hasn’t had much time to play lately, too involved with appearances for their comeback, his schedule too packed even for you some days.  You don’t blame him when he pulls his chair up behind you, rolling into place so he’s just within your periphery. 

It’s a little distracting;  he smells good, like his - and by extension your - favourite laundry detergent and a fruity, nectarine-heavy shampoo you’d picked up for him when he’d run out of his usual.  You notice then that his hair is wet, just the wrong-side of too damp with droplets beading over his neck.  Moisture soaks into the top of his shirt and you think it might be more soaked than you can see;  it’s hard to tell when it’s a jet black shirt, one of the many he keeps in your closet for the nights he stays over.  You realise then that he must’ve been home far longer than you’d thought, if his freshly washed pink cheeks are any indication.  (Because he takes seriously long showers, nearly doubling your water bill in the year you’ve been together.) 

You want to ask what he’s doing here - you’d sworn he was busy for the next few days - but can’t find the adequate brain power to do so.  You’re playing an incredibly high skill character (your words) and if you don’t get this goddamn shot on your Lucio to keep him up, your team is going to die (your ego’s words). 

‘Ask Kook about his day’ gets scribbled on a paper on the desk in your head and filed away under To Do Later in your overflowing brainiac filing cabinet. 

“Can we pleaaaaase focus their Zarya?  She has grav.”  Though you offer the tidbit of information, you don’t assume it’s going to be relied upon.  Your team is well on their way to taking first point - surprisingly - and there’s still nearly three minutes left on the clock.  If the six of you idiots can keep it together and kill that goddamn Zarya, there’s no doubt in your mind you’ll win the game. 

Alas, fate is but a cruel mistress and said Zarya gets said grav off, sucking your own Russian tank and Tracer-turned-Soldier into her hell void.  Not even your well-timed nade can save them from the Genji that dragon blades directly into their faces.  Your poor Lucio dies to the same ult and you imagine you or your Widow are next.  Your Hog’s just respawning, his lumbering silhouette not even on screen.

“Rip,”  says your boyfriend - like the sound, not the letters - from beside you, a droplet of water splashing across your wrist when he shakes his head.  He looks disappointed - as if he’s the one that’s lost the match.  It makes you laugh, the sound tripping off your tongue despite the overwhelming rage you’re currently battling.  

“Rip is right,”  you mumble back, tossing yourself off the map.  If you’re gonna die, it'll be on your own terms.  Jungkook chuckles at that.  

By the time you respawn, both you and Widow are joining a fight that looks like it’s going surprisingly well.  There’s no one on point and you’re capping uncontested.  Widow even headshots a wayward Moira.

“You should go top left.”  

You don’t turn your head.  Jungkook’s always been a bit of a backseat gamer, whether he’s watching your stream while he’s out of town or sitting right beside you.  Sometimes, you love it;  other times, you hate it.  Most times, though, he’s right.  He has surprisingly good game sense, despite being lower ranked than you (something you remind him of constantly, without shame). 

“Can we go top left?”  You parrot into your speaker.

For once, your team listens, most of them running up the sidewall with Widow right down main.  Not for the first time you wish you were playing Mercy, if only to be able to damage boost your sniper while she distracts the enemy team.  Still, you make due, taking your boyfriend’s next piece of advice when it comes, unsolicited.  “You should be back right by the stairs.  You can see up the hall and still heal Widow on top.”

You’d kiss him if you weren’t so intently focused, unable to tear your gaze from the screen when the enemy team seems to pluck their strategy directly from Jungkook’s skull and hold conservatively on point.  Amazing.

“Your Zarya has grav.  She’ll probably throw it on point so you should nade as soon as you get in and Widow can pick them off without full charge.”

If he were anyone else, you’d probably be giving him hell for mansplaining your favourite game to you.  As it stands, you follow his instructions to the letter and the Team Kill marker flashes across your screen. 

“Told you,”  he quips, ever the snooty dork you adore. 

“I was going to say thank you.”  Just not right now.  You can’t multitask quite like he can. 

If you could look over, you think you’d see him grinning from ear to ear, buck teeth and dimples on full display.  “I know.”

As it stands, the other team has trouble getting on point fast enough and you’re left with a whopping 3:56 left on the clock.  Thank freaking god.  You can win this, you think.  Easy.  No problem. 

“Go Ana on defense.”  At some point, Jungkook had gotten up to find a snack and he returns now, bag of shrimp chips in his hand and packet of matcha Pocky held between his teeth.  You open your mouth for a stinky tasty treat and he shoves four crisps in, unceremoniously and with his signature dummy grin. 

You manage to crunch crunch crunch through it all but shoot him a glare the entire time.  He only smiles wider, all perfectly white enamel and enough cuteness to make your heart skip a beat. 

“Do you just want to play?”  You don’t mean it seriously.  You don’t mind him watching and you know he enjoys pretending like he’s better than you.  It’s a strange give and take but one that’s uniquely yours, built over nearly a year of online friendship and another year of a real-life relationship. 

“Nah, I’m snacking.”  He punctuates his response as a child would, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth.  You wonder, briefly, why you love him so much when he’s a certifiable goon. 

The third match begins and you’re not too proud to say you spend most of it following Jungkook’s directions.  He tells you to sleep the enemy Genji trying to scale the right wall - you do.  He tells you to nade once their Rein gets in because your own Rein is going to shatter - you do.  He tells you to do the macarena and— okay, that, you don’t. 

You sweep the match, leaving the other team without a single tick.  

When it comes to the final round, he seems to have lost interest in the game, instead rolling himself back to his computer with a parting, wayward ruffle of your hair.  You don’t blame him but you thank him nonetheless, blowing a kiss before he settles his headphones over his ears. 

You, of course and unsurprisingly, win the game.  There’s nothing like using a Sym portal onto point when they’ve got a Bastion set up off point and no shield to protect him from the back. 

Satisfied, you don’t bother requeueing and instead force yourself into your boyfriend’s personal space, draping your arms across the idol’s neck as he scrolls through YouTube like a zombie.  “We won,”  you sing-song into his ear, proud and a little smug. 

“Of course you did.”  He sounds equally smug and you suppose the win does belong to the both of you.  He’d been a great coach. 

“What’re you doing here?”  It’s pure curiosity offered in the form of a kiss to his cheek, fingers locked across the broad expanse of his chest.  He’s delightfully warm beneath you, familiar and unyielding as you sink over the back of his computer chair.  (You can feel the chair creaking as it reclines.  You don’t care.) 

“Whaddya mean?”

The look he levels you with makes you think you’ve grown a second head.  

“Your schedule said you had a thing tonight.”  You remember, because you’d been disappointed.  Halloween was one of your favourite holidays and all you’d wanted was to watch some campy horror movies and use him as a personal eye shield and security blanket combo.

“We have a thing,”  he states, like he’s talking to a moron.  You know it isn’t meant meanly, too emphatic and amused to hurt your feelings.  

When you echo his words (“We?”) you swear you see him roll his eyes in the reflection of his computer screen.  Luckily, he laughs, sweet and cracky, somewhere high in his throat - a barking hyena.  It’s so cute - your favourite thing in the world - that you don’t have it in you to shame him for it. 

“Yeah, we,”  Jungkook repeats around something close to a snicker.  “Halloween party, baby.  Seriously— you forgot?”

It’s then and there you have two crises:  (a) you don’t have a costume and (b) Halloween party?  You didn’t think idols had those.  Weren’t they all too hip and cool to get together to dress up and act stupid?

(You know the answer is no.  Exhibit A being the costume-wearing dance practices BTS put out.)

“I don’t have anything to wear.”  It’s truly the one thing holding you back, creasing the soft skin between your brows to resemble a peach.  It’s also nearing seven in the evening and you’re absolutely certain you’re not going to find something so late in the day. 

To your surprise. Jungkook looks flabbergasted, that same you-have-two-heads stare wrought across his face.  It’d be endearing if it were directed at anyone else but with it trained on you, it’s rubbing you and your confusion the wrong way.  Why’s he looking at you like that?  Why’s your memory so bad?  Why hasn’t he said anything to answer all of life’s questions? 

“You said you’d go as witch Mercy.”

All at once, you’re pulled back to the offhand conversation, the pleading in his eyes, your half-asleep acceptance.  It’s the memory you’d lost somewhere along the way in upgrading your in-brain video game storage.  A conversation had in bed, his cheeks so big and full of joy they’d waned his eyes into crescents, and your uncoordinated answer because you’d just wanted to go to sleep and not think about anything after indulging in a few too many mochi cream buns. 

“I— don’t remember that.”  You’re lying through your damn teeth.  Your parents would be devastated, all their hard earned money wasted on the braces-straightened enamel that was now letting lies pass. 

“But you did!”  He’s like a kid being denied candy, rounded bottom lip dropping into a pout that should, frankly, be illegal.  It’s far too powerful on him, paired with those Bambi eyes that scream don’t eat (hate/deny/etc.) me!  You can only scowl at him, because you know your own puppy dog eyes only work 100% of the time half of the time whereas his track record was immaculate. 

“Okay, but I forgot to get the—“

“I have it!”

Jeon Jungkook has an answer for everything, it seems.

“I picked it up on the way here.  It’s in your room along with my costume.”

The knowledge of his own intrigues you, squarely centring your curiosity on that and not the fact that you apparently need to get tested for early onset dementia.  “Who’re you going as?”

“You’ll see.”

Your costume is spectacular.  You can’t even find it in yourself to put up much of a fight when your boyfriend reveals it like you’ve won the lottery, throwing his arms wide in a flourish. 

It’s incredibly well made, intricately tailored in a way that makes you worry how much it costs.  (When you bring it up to him, Jungkook simply shrugs.  You think it’s as much a gift for you as it is for him.)  It’s witchy and eye-catching, the belt hung across your hips clipped with an actual book - hollowed out, thank god but also poor thing.  The hat that sits on your head is neatly crumpled, sitting at such an angle you worry whether you’ll need to avoid too-low door frames.  Your wings - well, you’re almost too afraid to touch them;  Jungkook has to help you pull them over your arms, falling into near hysterics when you twitch your elbow the wrong way and smack him right between the eyes.  

“I don’t think I can pull this off,”  you state, somberly, despite the fact that you’re not terribly self-conscious.  (You were, once.  Being in a relationship with someone that worships your body has helped with that.) 

The top of your outfit is fitted, boned and ribbed and snapped together in all the right places.  Leather stands in stark contrast to your skin - summer-soft and gently golden - and hugs curves that don’t quite exist, falling short in a way that has you glaring down at your own chest.  You’ve never wanted a Playboy body but in this sort of costume, it practically demands it.  (You try not to dwell on the fact that you’ve been conditioned to want to look like an impractically designed video game hero.)

From the foot of your bed comes a snort, a derisive sound that draws your attention.  Jungkook’s unabashed in how he admires you, stare roving over every inch like he’s about to devour you.  You’re not sure how you can feel so soft for him when he looks completely the opposite, jaw set and expression sharp.  A Greek god carved from hardened honey, dressed in Balenciaga blue.  “You look great, angel.”

Your heart skips a beat - plays a funny little game of tag with itself - and you can’t help the smile that comes, brought to life by his reassurance.  It isn’t necessary to rebuff him then - eyes rolling, laugh spilling - but you do it anyway.  “You have to say that.  You’re my boyfriend.” 

“I don’t have to say anything,”  he retorts, levelling you with a look that has your insides molten.  It’s the look that reads don’t test me but also I love you and you’re my idiot.  It’s your favourite look in the world, lending wings to your flimsy heart.  “You look great because you always look great, no matter what.”

“What about when you found me in the shower ?”

Jungkook hesitates then.  He’s no liar and he had almost had a heart attack the first time it’d happened.  He’d been minding his business, half-asleep and battling the need to piss, when he’d noticed you curled up in the bathroom.  How he hadn’t realised you were missing from bed, he’s not sure.  All he knew was that you’d terrified him, mentioning something about invading refrigerators when he was pulling his dick out of his boxers.

His scream was what had woken you up;  yours was what had him bashing his head into the wall, foot slipping on the soft pink bathroom rug.  You could laugh about it now but at the time, you’d thought he’d cracked his skull right open, shouting his name so loudly the neighbours had complained.  

(Lucky for you two, they were a nice elderly couple who sometimes had you babysit their grandson.  They’d laughed it off when you’d apologised with a loaf of fresh bread and a bandage wrapped around your boyfriend’s head.)

“Okay—  that was scary.  I thought you’d crawled out of the drain or something.”  A shudder rolls through Jungkook’s body, shaking him from his shoulders all the way down to his knees.  It’s a strangely adorable reaction from someone who looks like he could bench press you.

“You’re calling me the Grudge?”  You’re deeply offended, gloved hands clasping over your chest as if to pull out the treacherous dagger he’s just lodged there.  He only rolls his eyes, leaning forward to catch you in his arms;  he’s relentless as he drags you to him, side of his face pressed to the bare skin of your thigh.  His cheek’s searing but you’re not surprised;  Jungkook ran hot, keeping you warm in winter and sweltering in summer.  (Ah, the price you paid for love.)

“Yeah, you haunt me in my dreams.”

“That’s not the Grudge, Kook.”  Your scoff earns you a pinch, right where the top of your stockings end.  It blooms red beneath his fingers, a little reminder of his competitive I’m-never-wrong nature.  You swat his hand away, not too bothered when it only finds a home elsewhere, hooked behind your knee.  Jungkook had a habit of needing to be in constant contact.  A little quirk of his you adored.

“I’m serious.  You look—”  You should clock the look on his face, the wiggle of mischief up his nose.  A dead giveaway shining bright - a beacon.  “—bewitching.”

If the book weren’t attached to your hip, you’d be clobbering him with it.  Instead, you’re left to whack him with the equally intricate Caduceus staff, booping it over his shoulders.  You feel like a certain shamanic mandrill, Jungkook the idiotic lion that’s asking for an earful.

“Shut up!”  You’re laughing despite yourself and he is too, holding you so recklessly close it’s hard to hit him without hurting yourself.  All part of his plan, you suppose.  “You’re so freaking corny.”

“It’s because I’m a-maize-ing, ang—”

Another wap! to the head, shielded only by a tattooed hand that curls over his ear.  

“Okay!  Sorry!”  Except he doesn’t look very sorry.  More pleased that you’ve stopped the assault, dark hair pushed back from his forehead as he stares up at you.  You hate how he’s so handsome - how you forget yourself when he smiles that smile, nearly yeeting your whole heart directly into the sun.

“Are you going to put on yours yet?”  

It’s quarter past nine already and all you’ve done is rope him into eating some chapaguri - you’ve been obsessed with it since a few weeks ago - and play real life Witch Barbie.  You have a feeling if you don’t get him into his own costume soon, you’re never going to leave the apartment.  (Not that you really mind.)  

Your boyfriend - bless his heart - pretends not to hear you, suddenly intently focused on an indiscernible spot past your hip.  It’d be more believable if he was glued to his phone or doing anything remotely interesting.  Instead, you stare down at him and count the seconds until he realises just how silly he looks.  It usually comes around six, paired with a forced chuckle and that lisp you love. 

Today, it comes after the fourth count. 

“You’re gonna think it’s lame.”  Well, of course you will.  As his girlfriend - and one of his best friends, you’d like to think - it’s your relationship-given right to shame him for his more often than not absurd ideas.  It’s what you deserve for suffering through all his bad jokes and 3 AM Instagram spams. 

With a hand on his cheek, you squeeze the apple like you’ve seen a certain member do a million times.  “So?”

He’s not really sure how to respond to that, mouth drawn into a pout that reminds you of children’s television show about penguins.  It’s unfairly adorable.  Still, you push.  Jungkook’s bad at saying no to you - always has been, even before he really knew you.  From “one more game!” to “bring me bingsu”, you always got what you wanted. 

(Which wasn’t to say you asked for a lot.  You were happy - more than that, ecstatic and over the moon - with the bare minimum.  A selfie while on the plane, some shoddy cinematography during dance practice, a voicemail to wake up to.  You didn’t love Jungkook for all the things he gave you;  rather, you loved him for who he was, who he’d always been even before you knew who he really was.)

“Don’t laugh.”  By the look on his face, you’re worried it’s something awful.  The cheesiest thing in the world come to life to haunt you on your beloved spooky holiday. 

It turns out to be the opposite:  one of your favourite characters realised in the form of your achingly handsome boyfriend.  He looks so good you’re not certain whether it’s your attraction to him or him in that particular guise that’s stronger.  You figure it doesn’t matter one way or another.  For tonight, they’re one and the same. 

“Joker?  Seriously?”  You can’t hide the delight.  It colours every syllable, sets them glowing like a neon sign.

Your boyfriend only rolls his eyes, as if he’d predicted this reaction.  Dressed as he is, the movement is impossible to miss, brought into focus by the white domino mask.  “Don’t sound so excited.”  It’s an actual concern of his.  He’s seen you sink upwards of ninety hours on the video game, playing it in the early hours when he’s fast asleep and you’re battling another night of insomnia.  

Once, he’d asked whether you loved him or Joker more.  He hadn’t liked the answer (joking as it was) and had spent the better part of the evening pouting. 

This time, you’re sweet as pie, eyes so dark and twinkly he wonders whether he’s staring at the night sky.  You wonder the same yourself almost every night, lost in the constellations of his irises.  It’s the most intimate form of stargazing you can afford, a luxury you indulge in frequently.  You’ve mapped the different formations, named them in honour of all the special moments you’ve shared;  you think to label one for this night too.

“You look so good.”  You don’t hesitate to brush his hair from his eyes.  It’s still relaxing from the perm he’d gotten days ago, curling like classic calligraphy over his eyes.  It’s surprisingly soft between your fingers, silk despite the constant heat styling.  Bastard.  “I can’t believe you’re going as Joker.  You don’t even like Persona 5!”

By how Jungkook looks at you then - the same way he did the first time you met standing on the street corner in Dotonbori and a hundred more times since then - you realise it doesn’t matter.  He’s dressed this way because you like the character.  

“Oh,”  you say, because there’s not much more to say.  Nothing that needs to be said as he grins down at you, so heartbreakingly handsome you’ll never get used to it. 

“Yeah,”  he parrots back, a little smug.  

Bangtan’s golden maknae is having the time of his life.  He’s four cups deep into a game of beer pong that’s played like the Wimbledon classic, back hunched, jaw set.  You’d think he was battling it out for the title of God of Beer Pong if you didn’t know better.  (You suppose he is.)  

“Angel, come here!”  He’s giddy - slightly glazed in the eyes - as he waves you over, a red-gloved hand beckoning you to his side.  Despite how good he looks in the costume - every weakness of yours encapsulated by the intricate dress shirt that hugs him like a second skin - the gesture is decidedly adorable, an eager puppy seeking unconditional love.  There’s simply too much affection in his voice, so much sugar-spun love that you can’t deny him (even as you consider jumping his bones at a party full of people).   

He’s shining as bright as the sun and you want nothing more than to live within his warmth.  

With your fingers twined, he pulls you to him, drawing you tight against his side like he doesn’t need that same hand to throw another ball.  You don’t mind.  You know he’ll sink it even with his left hand.  

“I’m winning,”  he states, as if it weren’t wildly obvious by the fact all cups remain untouched on his side.  

Across the table, Yugyeom’s eyes roll so far back you want to laugh.  Jungkook’s competitive side is endearing at best and infuriating at worst.  Luckily, his competition is enjoying himself too much to give him shit.  

(He’s also probably too drunk to, given how badly he’s doing.)

“I see that.”  You’re not a big drinker yourself but you like seeing Jungkook in his element.  He thrives in this sort of setting, showing off all the talents he has and then some.  It’s just another stage to him, somewhere he can prove himself (even if it’s over something as small as how good his bounce-shot is).  “How many games have you won?”  Because he’s been at this table for the last hour, dropping his competition like flies.

“All of them.”  God, his ego.  You know you shouldn’t stroke it but you can’t help it, brushing a hand through his tousled hair in the way he likes best.  Fingers over his scalp, thumb rubbing soothing circles across the nape of his neck.  He nearly melts then, tilting his head into the gentle caress.

“Good job, Kook.”

You’re so lost in your own little world that poor Yugyeom has to pull you both from it, launching a poorly-aimed white ping pong ball at the two of you.  To no one’s surprise, it careens past your heads, hitting the wall behind you and disappearing off to god knows where.  

“Can we play?”  Again, that eye roll, visible just past the bandages that loosely wrap his cheeks.  You know he’s only teasing, that he’s actually quite a fan of your and Jungkook’s dumb coupling (he’s told you), but you return his mockery with a raised hand, thumb and forefinger waving in salute.  

“Losers don’t get to complain.”

The idol throws a hand to his chest, the gesture bordering on sloppy from the liquor that threads his limbs.  Still, it’s cute, earning a sweet laugh from you and a witch’s cackle from your boyfriend.  (How fitting.)  “I’m hurt, Yoojin-ssi.”

It’s Jungkook’s turn to tease, brattiness flipped on like a haywire lightswitch.  “No, you’re just bad at games!”  He’s a sniggering schoolgirl, lines wrapping the delicate skin of his nose, streaking joy into the wrinkles beneath his eyes.  Slightly-too-big front teeth are on full display, his expression the embodiment of an “uwu” emote.

That riles Yugyeom up, powder puff of hair bounding over to you before you have time to blink.  In the next moment, your boyfriend’s half-wrestling with him, their arms locked around each other like some sort of weird four-limbed octopus.  (Video game protagonist vs. hot mummy— who will win?)  You jump back just in time, avoiding a wayward fist and laughing merrily.  Idiots, the both of them.

“You guys have fun.”  And then you’re gone, off to busy yourself with people who won’t accidentally give you a black eye or knock over the nearest thing not bolted to the ground.  

You can still hear them tussling when you latch yourself to the back of a certain blond.  He’s dressed like one of your greatest nightmares - an actual clown, drawing inspiration from a certain 2017 blockbuster - and yet somehow still manages to look good. You don’t understand it and frankly, you’re a little envious, but such was life. 

“Jimin-ssiiiii.”  

“Ahhhhhh, stop!”  It’s the same reaction he always has, paired with wiggling shoulders and sweet laughter that bounces around the room and stirs to life your own.  Indisputable and lovely, the sound is brighter than the sun or the lights that currently swing through the chandelier lights above your heads.  “You two are ridiculous.”

“He’s ridiculous, not me!”  You know it isn’t true.  Separately, you and Jungkook were idiotic enough, finding humour in the silliest things (funny threads on r/Relationship_Advice and four year old Vines).  But together?  It was a two-person circus, graduate professors at clown college.  

You absolutely loved it. 

“Sure, sure,”  the dancer hums, delightfully disbelieving as he takes another shot.  One of three lined up across the counter, clear in little orange cups made to look like pumpkins.  A whiff tells you they’re strawberry soju - your least favourite flavour.  You decline with a wrinkled nose and waving hand when he offers you one.  Jimin shrugs and downs the next, delicately wiping the corner of his mouth when he misjudges the pour.  “Aren’t you drinking?”

You wiggle the half-empty Cass bottle in your hand in response and receive a scoff, different bottle - green, unopened - thrust into your other.  

“Drink this!”  

“You want me to drink an entire bottle?”  You’re incredulous.  Jimin’s seen you on the edge of intoxication and more than a little sloppy, giggling like a schoolgirl.  It’s not unbecoming - you know better than to get blackout - but laughable nonetheless.  Something to record and post on Snapchat with a voice-altering filter.

“It’s Halloween!”  The pumpkin shot glass makes you go cross-eyed before he’s knocking it back too.  “Live a little!”

Who are you to say no to the recent birthday boy?  It would simply be bad manners and you were nothing if polite (though, you’re sure some might beg to differ - Yoongi, maybe?). 

The remnants of your beer are swallowed down in the next moment, so quickly you almost choke on it.  Your life flashes before your eyes, Jimin’s hand on your shoulder as he beats breath into your body.  “Don’t die!”  He cries, despite the fact that it’s his fist that’s making it worse, doubling you over with hacking coughs.

“K-Kook’s g-going to kill you—”  

“No, you’re fine.”  He’s reassuring you just as much as himself, laughing too loudly as you straighten up.  You wonder how red your face is when he takes your place, slapping his own knee as he shakes with amusement.  “Your face, oh—  Your face.”

It’s not meant to be offensive but your buzzed brain demands payment for each giggle.

The base of the green bottle collides with the back of his knee - gentle, gentle - just hard enough to have him properly toppling over, collapsing onto the carpet like a frail old grandpa without his cane.  You can’t help the snicker that careens off your liquor-laden tongue.

That is, until he’s pulling you down with him and the two of you are a giggling, giddy mess, tucked beneath the edge of the bar as you laugh together.  It’s a chorus of sound, unrelenting and building the longer you both sit on the floor.  Jimin’s practically hunched over, head caught between his propped up arms.  You imagine it’s a funny sight - two people in their twenties acting like college freshmen.

“Baby?”  It’s your boyfriend, amused and confused as he stares down at your and Jimin’s prone bodies.  He’s got that dent between his brows, the colour of his eyes all but swallowed up by the way his cheeks press wide with his smile.  “What’re you doing down there?”  

“Just hanging out,”  you answer, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.  At your side, Jimin’s still trying to collect himself, parroting your words around his lungfuls of quieting laughter.

“Are you drunk?”

You’re not, but that doesn’t stop you from gasping, overdramatic and with your unopened bottle of soju held aloft.  A modern day olive branch.  “No?”

Jungkook snorts and then all at once, he’s close.  Too close - smelling of beer and your favourite cologne of his, citrusy and woodsy and every other nice thing you like.  It fills your senses just as his smile does, blindingly bright and bunny-like.  Even behind the mask, his good looks take your breath away.  You must be staring up at him idiotically, all one hundred and sixteen pounds of ooey gooey tenderness.  “You sound drunk, angel,”  he teases, warm red-covered palm coming to cradle your cheek.  It sears heat everywhere it touches, guiding the same hue over your skin.  It creeps up your chest and over your ears, standing in contrast to the material of his gloves.  “Pretty.”

(He really is, you think.)

“Get a room,”  comes Jimin from beside you.  There’s no malice in his voice - just soft affection for a couple of lovesick idiots.  

“That’s the plan,”  Jungkook replies, as if he’d been waiting for the moment.  It skips off his tongue and settles into your ears, tipping your head curiously as you stare at him.  He’s never been very shy about wanting you - at least, not since you’d made things official, so many months ago - but you’re surprised by the insinuation.  When he speaks again, you realise your brain has been rolling around in the gutter, fallen out of your ears like candy from a worn pillow case.  “Want to head home?”

You do.  You really, really do.   

When you stumble into your apartment - the same one with the polka-dot welcome rug and crisp white paint - you realise you were perhaps wrong about how drunk you are.  Everything’s coming at you quite quickly, the ground beneath your feet somehow suddenly rushing at you like Mach Five.

“Whoa—”  There’s an impossibly solid warmth against your back, fingers locked around your wrists that feel more like flimsy chicken feet.  “Careful.”

Your boyfriend’s keeping you upright while stepping out of his boots - impossibly expensive supple dark leather - and you’re giggling all the while, practically sinking against him as he does his best to shuffle his shoes away and get you further into the hallway.  “Sorry,”  you offer in a terrible stage whisper, smiling wide when you catch sight of his, small and endlessly amused.  It slips across his face even as he tries to bite it back, warring with the patience he holds in spades.

“Let’s just get these off.”  He means the boots - the intricate, vaguely absurd things that creep up almost the entirety of your leg, neatly wrapped and knotted midway up your thigh.  Dexterous as he is, it’s a task to unravel the strings and thread buttons when you’re weighing on him like a bag of bricks.

You’re fumbling for the tops, haphazardly smacking his hands away.  “Here, let me.”  

Somehow, you manage to get them off in what feels like record time.  (In reality, it takes a good five minutes of futility before they’re left on the ground and Jungkook’s swept you into his arms, seemingly over waiting for you to do much else.)

“Oh, my prince charming,”  you tease, clinging to him like a koala.  You’re locked around him, practically suffocating him, but he doesn’t seem to mind.  He’s used to it when you’re this way, just a little too much liquid courage turning your level of affection to eleven.  “Or are you the court jester?  That’s what Joker is, right?”  It’s a joke and a bad one at that.  Still, your boyfriend indulges you, depositing a forced laugh against your shoulder as he navigates to your bedroom.  

“You’re drunk.”  He says it more kindly than you expect.  Perhaps even more kindly than you deserve.  You know he’s not exactly sober himself, his gaze verging on heavy-lidded.  There’s sleepiness blending seamlessly with intoxication, softening the edge of his jaw, the narrow of his stare.  It’s terribly tender, skipping your heart when you look at him dead on.

It comes without thought.  You have to tell him.  Your drunk brain and your puppy dog heart demand it.  “I love you.”

Jungkook returns the confession with humour, eyes sparkling despite the haze of alcohol that dims them down.  As always, he indulges you, giving you support in the form of his heart and his hands.  (Literally, he’s still holding you even though you’ve reached your destination.)  “Love you too.”

“Is it time for bed?”  You’re surprisingly tired, despite the fact that you’d slept until late in the afternoon.  You certainly wouldn’t mind falling face first into your mattress.

“You need a shower first.”  It’s a simple statement of fact, you know that.  You’ve got at least ten pounds of makeup on and your hair’s the furthest thing from soft and silky, carefully coiffed to mimic Mercy’s signature style.  You still pretend like you’re just a bit offended, scowling into the face of your boyfriend even as he rolls his eyes, already somehow able to read the words written into your expression.  “I meant we and no, I’m not calling you stinky.”

He’s stolen your thunder, as he so often does.  You pout, as you so often do. 

“Okay,”  you relent, finally, moving to rest your head against his shoulder.  You could get down - walk on your own two tired feet - but you’re enjoying the closeness, how warm and real he feels in comparison to the swimming surroundings.  “Will you wash my hair?”  You don’t really need to ask but do anyway, because you like the sound of his voice when it’s so close.

“You know I will.”  Because he always does when you shower together (and it falls on a designated hair washing day - that was important).  

You offer your thanks with a kiss, laid right over the jumping pulse in his neck.  When Jungkook hums in acknowledgment, you feel the way the muscles constrict, his Adam’s apple jumping beneath your lips.  You zero in on it with laser precision, mouthing over his throat.  Somewhere above you - against the shell of your ear - he exhales a laugh, breath hot.

“We’re showering, baby.”  As if that’s meant to stop you.  He, more than anyone, should know how adamant you get, singularly focused on whatever’s got your attention.  He’s been on the receiving end of it more than enough times, strung into playing another one, two, ten matches of Overwatch or hunting down the limited edition Funko Pops that now sit proudly on your white shelf (and behind your plants and on the ledge by the front door).

“We can shower and have fun,”  you mumble into the expanse of his chest.  He’s so pleasantly warm, unyielding and firm and so, so comfortable.  You think you could live in the feeling of his arms.  (You’re lucky you get to.)  You don’t even mind the sudden cold of the counter or the space that forms between you when he sets you down, because he’s still caging you in where it matters most.  “Right, JK?”

It’s a nickname you rarely use now - one that only comes out in times of desperation.  You’ve never quite understood why it affects your boyfriend the way it does, stuttering the rhythmic beating of his heart, but you love it nonetheless.  It makes you grin, high on power and giddy with nothing but sweetness.  

He’d explained it to you once.  Jay was how you’d met him, the version of himself you’d loved first.  Jungkook was the side of himself he’d wanted to give you but couldn’t.  JK was the in-between - the chaos and the calm.  Hearing you say it brought back all the memories of year one and he liked that.  You could only laugh at his sentimentality and tuck the piece of knowledge somewhere deep, to be pulled out in instances like this.

“Right, angel.”  You don’t miss the colour on his cheeks - so pretty you reach your hands out to cup them, squishing them between your palms like an old grandmother testing a watermelon.  You continue to hold him until he pulls your hands from his face, guiding them to the edge of the counter with gentle pressure.  “Gotta get undressed to shower,”  he chides, that twinkle in his eye that makes it hard to look away.

Really, how can he expect you to do anything when he’s got an entire unexplored galaxy hidden in his irises?  It’s an absurd ask.

“Or I’ll help you.”  

Your clothes fall away while you’re still staring up at him.  

First, the gloves, peeled from your fingers with utmost care.  Kisses fill the spaces between each finger, passed from knuckles to wrist, all the way up to your elbow.  You squirm when his teeth graze the sensitive underside of your bicep.  He stifles a snicker into the skin.

Next goes your cape and wings, hung on the door handle.  His mouth warms the suddenly bare skin, pressing affection into the line of your shoulder, up over your neck.  You don’t squirm this time, instead humming a noise of delight.  You hardly notice when the corset goes next, undone by surprisingly nimble inked digits.  There’s hardly a moment to savour the freedom - you can finally breathe - when his hands replace the cups, palms eager over your chest.  He doesn’t hesitate to hold you, pinching your perked nipples with a sly grin.

“I thought we were going to shower.”  The words are barely out before turning breathless, stolen by the way he easily palms your breast, dropping his face into the crook of your neck. 

“We are, angel,”  Jungkook teases, rolling your bud between his thumb and forefinger, other hand moved to splay across the now-bare small of your back.  It’s almost embarrassing how easily you fall into him, drawn against him like a moth to a flame.  “Just need to get you warmed up first.”    

“The shower’ll be warm,”  you say - or think you say, anyway.  It isn’t quite articulated, half your brain left somewhere at the party (or maybe caught dead centre in the coil that’s tightening in your stomach).  

“Do you want me to stop?”  It’s so quiet you almost miss it, too distracted by how he slips the rest of your costume off.  Shorts, thong, stockings, silly witch’s hat.  “Tell me if you want me to stop, baby.”  Ever the gentleman, he’s patient, meeting your glazed stare with something close to concern.  You almost laugh in his face then - stopping short only when you note just how serious he is, the tell-tale set of his jaw shining like a familiar beacon.  

You return your hands to his face, palms cradling his chin like he might break otherwise.  “I never want you to stop.”  

That’s all Jungkook needs before he’s slotting himself between your legs, mirroring your motion with hands creeping up the side of your neck, fingers ascending into the roots of your hair.  He holds you close and kisses you like it’s all he’s ever wanted.  “I love you,”  he breathes, speaks against the corner of your mouth.  

You parrot the words back at him and he grins, stepping away in the next moment.  He laughs when you pout, offering a kiss in apology as he undoes the buttons of his dress shirt, slipping the soft cotton off.  You stop then, entranced by the revealed skin, how it shifts with each adjustment of muscle, sinew tight over his arms and shoulders.  You wonder, not for the first time, how you’d managed to luck out so spectacularly.  

“Start the shower.”  

You hop down with the direction, slipping past him to do exactly that.  You don’t miss the way he rotates, brings himself closer as you move away.  The magnetism is undeniable - always has been.

“I love you,”  he states, again, bare against your back as you hover by the edge of the glass door, one hand stuck past to test the slow-warming stream.  He’s solid, familiar and comfortable, as he slinks his arms back around you, heat burning the shape of his hands over your ribs, the shape of your hip.  You think he might mark himself there, just as neatly as the floral ink does.  You wouldn’t mind.

The water is welcome, bathing the both of you in steam when you step inside.  It’s an incredibly relaxing feeling, being caught between the spray and the hard body behind you.  You hum a noise of pure delight, turning your face toward the one that nuzzles itself into your neck, and bring your hands to rest over his, fingers slotting between ink.  

“Hair?”  You’re not in a terrible rush but you like redirecting his attention (pretending to, at least) - the teasing that formed the base of your relationship presenting itself in the quiet reminder.  It earns the laugh you expect, muffled into your hair, featherlight over the delicate shell of your jewelled ear.  

“Patience, baby.”  It’s something Jungkook tends to say a lot, whether waiting in queue in Overwatch or in bed, with you a complete mess.  He repeats it easily, like he’s the poster boy for the virtue.  (He isn’t.)

“What am I waiting—”  The question dies, swallowed whole by the gasp he draws from you with a wandering hand.  Fingers slip across your stomach, digits deftly seeking out warmth as if you weren’t already enveloped in it.  It’s a touch that’s tantalisingly slow, unfairly light, but it still makes you keen when it drags over your lips.  A single digit pushes past muscle - so shallow you’re not sure you’re not just imagining it - before retreating, dragging your slick back up to your clit.  The moment the pad of his finger makes contact with the sensitive bundle of nerves, you almost jump.  Would, if he weren’t caging you with his other arm.  

You feel the cold of his teeth bared against your neck then, the throaty laugh that pulls out of his chest and deposits itself into your hair.  “Patience,”  he repeats, swirling his fingers over your clit, his mouth moving in tandem with the twist of his wrist.  He peppers love and affection in the form of kisses, presses devotion with the edge of his teeth, soothes all your nerves with a sweep of his tongue. 

“Kook,”  you sigh, already well on your way to being a boneless mess.  There’s tingling in your toes, fizzing in your stomach, butterflies in your chest.  A whirlwind of emotion and sensation that he stirs to life effortlessly.  

“Relax for me.”  You do so because it’s easy, because he’s so devastatingly good to you.  

The figure eights skating over your clit cease, fingers dropping further down to nestle against your cunt. He pauses there, almost experimentally flexing against the muscle that aches and clenches around nothing, eager for more.  You think he’s smirking by the way his lips form with his kisses, a little lopsided and devilish.  (You wish you could see him.) 

A single digit enters you then, to the third knuckle as if your body was made for this, for him.  (It was.)  He coos against your neck when a garbled mess skips off your tongue and nearly laughs when another slips in alongside it, turning the mess into nonsense.  Despite how badly you want it - need it, really - it’s a sensation that’s too much and not enough all at once, toeing the line between pleasure and pain.  

It was how Jungkook loved you - recklessly, shamelessly, in no half measures.  With more love than you could ever hope for, giving you things you didn’t even know how to ask for.

“Relax, angel,”  comes as he begins scissoring both fingers inside you, stretching you out with an otherworldly amount of care.  Even your neglected clit is given some sort of relief - anything to ease the sting of two long fingers - his thumb gliding over it with each stretch of your walls.  He knows exactly where to touch you, how much pressure to apply, and you’re melting, lost in the feeling.  

When he’s had enough and he curls his fingers within you, seeking out that particular spot, you’re trembling, caught off guard.  Heat builds quickly with the precision of which he taps against that spot;  it starts low in your back, climbing each vertebrae of your spine until you’re quivering in his arms.  

“K-Kook.”  It’s both a plea and a demand, nonsensical as he guides you through your orgasm, keeping you upright against him when your knees feel like they might give out.  

“I’ve got you.”  And he does - hook, line, and sinker.  He holds you steady as the pleasure crashes over your head, keeps you anchored to the here and now and the pleasure that rolls through you like a relentless wave.  It sinks beneath your skin, settles heavy into every atom, and he never lets you go.  He’s got you.

When sensation returns - slowly, so slowly it feels like you’re stuck in the Twilight Zone - you only want to turn.  See him, hold him, whisper sweet nothings as you kiss him silly and thank him for his service.  Instead, you’re held in place, two hands firm upon your hips even as you crane your neck to look over your shoulder at him.  You should recognise the look on his face.  “Kook?”

“My turn.”  It’s a statement more than anything, a kind heads-up as he nudges you forward.  There’s that same twinkle in his eye, the only source of light around the pupil that’s blown out, otherwise engulfing the constellations he so normally offers you.  It’s a black hole and one you’d gladly get lost in.  “Hands on the wall, baby.”

You’d never been one for shower sex - it’s too small a space, too much happening at once, a guaranteed freak accident waiting to happen - but you can’t deny him when he asks so nicely.  (It really hadn’t been that nice but you were a certified sucker for one Jeon Jungkook.)

Hands find themselves on the wall, palms flat, fingers splayed.  In the same instance you wiggle your hips, there’s a ghosting touch over your spine.  It trails up and down, soothes the residual heat that lingers, and then slips higher, palm gentle over your throat.  His thumb rubs reassuring circles over the nape of your neck, pressing gently into the sensitive spot behind your ear.  It’s distracting and you realise much needed when he sinks into you with one fluid press of his hips, filling you so full you can’t help the gasp that bounds past your lips and bounces around the glass enclosure.  “Oh fuck,”  he sighs, his grip on your hip tightening incrementally.

He sounds like sin and feels like heaven.  

“Always so good for me.”  Another thing he says, often and without prompting.  It still feels just as good the umpteenth time, sparking pride deep in your chest as he pulls out and drives himself back in, staring in rapt fascination at where your bodies meet.  “Always so perfect for me.”  

“Because I love you,”  you quip, more than a little out of breath and jostled by the way he thrusts into you, measured and with enough force to shake your legs.  

“Love you too, angel.”  He doesn’t need to say it back - you know, can feel it by how he holds you, drives you to brink of insanity with his cock - but he does it anyway.  He always says it back, no matter what, even if he’s half-asleep or distracted.  He’ll never stop saying it.

The hand on your hip falls, slinks across your hip and between your legs, and you’re pushed further forward, his feet gently kicking yours further apart.  Jungkook assaults your clit then, timing each pass with each thrust.  An attempted glance back has fireworks going off before your eyes, specks of pleasure lighting up your vision;  it’s a technicolour lightshow, framing the way his face scrunches, brow set and jaw hard.  He’s determined, focused on bringing you to another orgasm before he hits his own high.  You assist him as best you can, swiveling your hips and grinding back against him even as the coil pulls impossibly tight in your stomach, barely held together by threadbare strings. 

“Kook,”  you whine when the tension becomes too much, hands scrabbling across the wall of the shower.  The same overwhelming tingle sparks beneath your skin, entire body trembling like a leaf when the head of his cock brushes that spot inside you at just the right angle.

He doesn’t relent, rhythm turning almost punishing as he drives you over the edge, launching you headlong into your second orgasm.  You’re not sure how you stay upright, near sobbing when you crash into euphoric bliss, neither his fingers nor his thrusts ceasing.  It’s almost too much and yet you know how close he is, so you push back, whimper words you know he wants to hear.  

“P-please, Kook.  Please.”  You’re reaching a hand back, desperate to interlace your fingers with his.  He gives in easily, catches your hand in his own and plants it on the swell of your hip as he chases his own release with desperation.  “Come for me, Kook.  Fill me up.”

Jungkook does just that, balls tight as he spills himself inside you, hand at your throat so tight you’re seeing stars.  Somehow - with the feeling of him grinding into you, overcome with so much sensitivity - you come for the third time, crying very real tears as the sensation washes over you.  It’s weaker than your first two but unravels you all the same, seeping the energy from your limbs.  You’re grateful for how well he knows you and the fact he catches you before your arms collapse, pulling you to him with gentle movements.  

“I love you,”  he whispers against your temple, out of breath and sweat-slick despite the water that rains down upon you.  

“I love you,”  you answer, pressing a kiss to the hand that still twines with yours.  “But I still need you to wash my hair.”  It’s cheeky and you know it so you don’t even mind when he bites into the meat of your shoulder, leaving a pretty red mark that’ll bloom for the next few days.  “Ow!”

“You’re a brat.”  Said even as he’s reaching for your shampoo bar, teasing it through your roots with practiced movements.  He’s careful despite his scathing tone, gentle despite how he glares at you from the corner of your periphery.  Each tangle is neatly undone and not a single bubble gets in your eye, much to your joy.  

“I thought I was an angel.”  You’re taking a page out of his book, speaking in fluent pout.

He catches your lips with his own, pushing your lathered up head beneath the steady stream when he withdraws and speaks.  Suds run across your cheeks, eyes shielded only by the hand he keeps steady along your hairline.  Even so mean, your boyfriend is still terribly nice.  “You’re my angel - but you’re still a brat.”  

You can’t argue with that. 

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice​ @youwannabelostandnotbefound​ @snackhobi​

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[artaefact]

the angry snowman.

↳ when he lends you his hoodie

➳ 599 words | fluff, college au, boyfriend!jk | jeon jungkook x f reader | pg-15 | a super soft jungkook :3

prompt: oversized hoodies/sweaters | event masterlist

With a duffle bag slung over one of his shoulders, Jungkook enters the dim-lighted library after his hockey practice in search for a certain girlfriend of his who had ignored his texts for… He checks his phone. Three hours.

The last text you sent, you told him you’ll be studying in the library and attending group meetings. Since then, you haven’t replied to his texts.

Curious about what you’re up to, here he is now. Passing through the study rooms, Jungkook peeks inside each one of them through the windows and—

There you are.

Opening the door tentatively, he enters and closes it behind him. He lets out a chuckle while taking in the sight of your sleeping form. Your face is buried in your arms as you doze peacefully. And he thinks you’re so precious.

Jungkook takes a seat on the empty chair beside you and pokes gently at your forehead. “Babe?”

You mumble incoherently in response.

He laughs quietly as he draws his face closer to yours while he rubs his hand on your back to coax you out of your slumber. “Y/N…” he calls out, softly. “C’mon wake up, please. It’s late.”

Your eyes flutter open, regarding your boyfriend with a half-lidded gaze.

“Hey there, beautiful,” he grins.

A groan escapes your throat, “What the—”

Okay. Judging from the ‘pretty’ word that rolled off your tongue and your contorted expression, Jungkook can tell you’re in a cranky mood.

“How long was I out?” You grumble, rubbing your eyes.

“You’re already asleep when I found you,” he replies, still looking at you with his sparkly eyes. In all honesty, despite your dark mood, Jungkook can’t help but think it’s adorable — your little pout and still-dazed look.

Another groan falls out of your lips. “I think I overslept. I swear I told myself I just needed a 15-minute power nap.”

“That’s okay, you needed the rest after working so hard on your assignments and projects.” He rubs your back again in a comforting manner. “Now, let’s go back home, yeah? I’ll cuddle you.”

Muttering a quiet ‘okay’, you stand up and pack your things.

Jungkook looks around. “Where’s your jacket?”

“Ah… I lent it to one of my groupmates,” you recall, placing your laptop into your bag. “She spilled her coffee and didn’t have any extra shirt to change to.”

“It’s freaking cold outside.”

“I have my puffer jacket. It’s—”

Jungkook plops his white hoodie through your head and your voice becomes muffled.

“What are you doing?” You try to say.

“Getting you all bundled up!” He pats you before lifting the hood to cover your head. “There,” he grins at his work. “Wait—”

“What now—”

Your boyfriend pulls the front strings of your hoodie so only your face is visible to him before he puts on your puffer jacket on you. His eyes crinkle at the sight of you huffing. He muses, “You look like an angry snowman.”

“Your hoodie is too big—”

“Cuz you’re tiny, baby.”

“I’m not tiny!”

“But you’re tiny to me,” he coos, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m going to give you all the cuddles and kisses you need.”

“Stop babying me!” You push him away. “I need to finish packing my things quickly.”

“But you like it when I baby you.” He gives you a chaste kiss. “Don’t even dare to deny!”

Heat rushes to your cheeks as you swing your bag on your shoulder. “Shut up.”

Jungkook giggles at your embarrassed state. Wrapping an arm around you, he whispers into your ear, “I love you.”

© artaefact 2020. All rights reserved. Copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform or by any means is NOT permitted.

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[thisbrokenmask]

Drift Away

pairing: female reader x Park Jimin

genre: angst (prepare your heartstrings)

word count: 5,192

warnings: Jimin is sad, that’s all

summary: jimin is home for christmas. so are you. it’s been several months since you broke up with him but he’s still hurting. will you give him the closure he needs?

a/n: so I wanted to write something nice and fluffy for Jimin’s Christmas Love, but this sort of happened instead. Crystal Snow has been one of my favourites since I first heard it, there’s something about the longing and complex emotions in it that’s always appealed to me, so I’m glad I got ‘Crystal Snow’ on my @btsholidaybingo​ card! (Also, don’t mind me projecting my break up from earlier this year, I promise I’ll write something happier for ChimChim soon) 

It’s only when conversation in the car dies down that Jimin begins to take notice of his surroundings. He’s been talking non-stop with his parents and his brother since they engulfed him in a big group hug at the train station, catching up with each other despite at least two calls a week to his parents and a text thread with his brother that rarely sits still for a full 24 hours.

Somehow, there is always something new to talk about, or something comfortingly familiar to talk about again, and he is thankful for that in the very moment he notices how close they are to home. Being close to home means being close to your parents’ house, and that means being close to you. 

He stares out of the window as the houses roll past, various colours painting his skin from the different light displays and decorations hanging from their eaves. Jimin has no doubt you’ve come home for the winter holidays, just like he has. You always loved Christmas, always itching to get the Christmas decorations up as soon as you could. He remembers how you would start talking about Christmas as early as the week after Chuseok and how he’d been amazed that he’d found someone who loved Christmas more than he did. Even he could wait until after Hangul Day before he allowed himself to even think of ideas for Christmas, but you were always two steps ahead of him. 

He wonders if you were as excited this year. 

His parents definitely notice the sudden quiet in the back of the car and glance at each other, silently repeating the conversation they’ve had several times over the last few weeks, questioning whether they should ask or leave him be. 

“Have you heard from Y/N?” his mother asks, long having decided that addressing the elephant in the room will help Jimin, rather than letting him wallow and fester in his own thoughts. He’s had long enough, she feels, and talking about you will only help him to move on. “Is she back for Christmas?”

“I don’t know,” Jimin answers truthfully, feeling an uncomfortable fullness in his chest that makes him feel a bit sick. His brother shifts in his seat across the car. “We haven’t spoken.”

“Oh,” his mother says lightly, faux nonchalant. Her barely-concealed acting would normally have irked him and he would have asked her to just be more direct, not tiptoe around him and treat him like a baby, but he’s tired. Tired of pretending not to care, tired of pretending he doesn’t still think about you. His mother quickly changes the subject anyway. “Well, Jungkook is home, isn’t he? Are you going to go and see him?” 

“Yeah,” Jimin nods once, unable to tear his eyes away from the world outside. He knows your street is approaching and he doesn’t want to miss catching a glimpse of your house. He wonders if your parents have put up the same lights they always do: bright white and twinkling, following the slope of the roof and lighting up the biggest tree on the front lawn. “Yeah, I’ll go see Jungkook.”

Christmas music is playing in the store when Jimin enters. A mix of American and Korean music playing over the speakers, old enough to give the music that slight tinny sound only old, weary speakers can provide. 

His mother has sent him armed with a list of things she deems absolutely essential, but he knows it’s just an excuse to get him out of the house, to get him to do something rather than pretending to watch TV while wrapped up on the sofa in his favourite blanket like he has been for the last two days. He knows, because he saw the full bag of flour in the pantry last night when he was quietly looking for a near-midnight snack. He knows, because there’s a carton of eggs in the kitchen that’s almost full and there’s enough sugar to sweeten the tea of the whole street at least two times over.

But she insisted, so here he is. 

He has the eggs, flour, sugar and a few other things from the list when he sees them, having just turned down the aisle they’re standing in. Your relatives don’t spot him straight away, your mother talking a mile a minute as she lists the pros and cons of two different brands to your little sister who, as always, is simply nodding along. Your mother will make her own decision, probably already has, but your sister is there to be her sounding board. That used to be your job, he remembers you telling him, until you hit 16 and had the excuse of school exams to get you out of the weekly shopping trips. 

He’s about to turn around and go down the next aisle, planning on circling back when he knows they’ve moved on, but then he hears his name being called. He looks up to see your little sister abandoning her post and running towards him. Your mother blinks as he gets closer, walking over to say hello as he’s too polite not to, and for the first time in his life he wishes he found it easier to be rude.

“Mrs Y/L/N,” he greets your mother with a bow low enough for his gaze to drop to the floor, his basket knocking against his calf before he’s straightening up again. “It’s nice to see you, I hope you and your family are well.” Jimin smiles at your sister, who smiles back and nods but moves back to stand by your mother. He can tell she’s holding back from hugging him and his arms ache. 

“Jimin,” she smiles back, but her eyes are sad. “It’s nice to see you, too. I’m very well, thank you. I hope your family are, too?” Jimin nods with a smile. “You’re home for Christmas?” Another nod. “That’s wonderful. Y/N is, too-” She cuts herself off, eyes widening apologetically. 

“It’s okay,” he assures her with a smile despite the constricting feeling in his throat. He holds back from asking about you despite the way his tongue itches to form the words. “I’m glad to be back home for a while. Speaking of which, I apologise but I must get back,” he holds up the slip of paper his mother pushed into his hand. “But it was lovely to see you both.” Jimin bows again to both your mother and sister, making sure to push his smile just that little bit wider to ensure they know there are no hard feelings. 

“It’s lovely to see you, too, Jimin,” your mother smiles. “It’s been so long.”

He knows. He knows exactly how long it’s been since so many things: the last time he saw your parents, the last time he saw you, the last time you spoke to him. 

“It has,” he agrees, and bows again before slipping past them. “Merry Christmas!” 

He waves goodbye as he walks away, waiting until he’s down the next aisle before trying to read the rest of his list with stinging eyes. 

He wonders if your mother will tell you that she saw him. 

It’s only a few days before Christmas Eve when Jimin finally sees you. He’s walking back from Jungkook’s house, his younger friend’s parents insisting on feeding him before he was allowed to go home. He almost doesn’t notice you, so caught up in the same thoughts he’s been having for months to even register people around him. 

But he hears your laugh and he can’t not look.

Jimin’s head snaps up so suddenly that he’s sure the movement alone catches your eye, but it could be the fact that he stops dead almost mid-stride. You’re on the other side of the street, walking towards the direction he’s coming away from, and you’re not alone. 

He thinks he recognizes one of the girls by your side from high school, but the other is completely unknown to him. He barely grants either of them a second of his attention before focusing back on you. You’ve cut your hair and dyed it a lighter shade, but it’s still you in those jeans he always loved and the jacket you bought with the money you saved up from your first summer job. 

He notices the exact second your eyes flit over to him, and the exact moment when they shoot back for a double take, a flash of recognition taking over your features. Meeting your gaze is like a pummel to the gut and the head at the same time; his brain feels dizzy and his knees waver like they might give out if a light breeze brushes past him.

You look away so quickly, so determined in the way you turn your head completely to look at your friend, that it takes him a few seconds to register the moment is gone. He feels empty, so empty, at how easily you ignore him. He feels empty, and then he feels so full of sadness and anger and hurt that he briefly convinces himself that he hates you as he turns to stomp back to his house. 

“Who was that?” he hears one of your friends ask incredulously, but his feet beat a muffled pace against the snow too quickly for him to hear your answer. 

Hey, how are you?

The text comes through hours later, lighting up his room as Jimin lays staring at the ceiling. Drying tracks itch his face from the silent tears he finally let fall once he knew his parents were in bed and most likely asleep. He couldn’t forget how easily you turned away from him, and from there his memories awoke to remind him of all the times you’d turned toward him, ran toward him, jumped into his arms and held on. 

It was, he’d believed, yet another night of his chest slowly ripping itself open, only to leave it for him to try and fix before breakfast.

But you texted him, and he chewed his lip desperately as he considered what to do. 

Hey. I’m alright thanks, you?

He had considered texting Hoseok to ask what he should do, but it was nearly midnight and he didn’t want to bother his friends any more than he felt he already had. This was his situation, anyway, and all the advice in the world to the contrary wouldn’t stop him from listening to the way his heart still called out for you. 

I’m good, too. I just wanted to say sorry about earlier.

Earlier?

Don’t lie, Jimin. I know you saw me, and you know I saw you.

I’m sorry I ignored you.

Jimin scoffs into the darkness of his room, a flush of anger rushing through him at your words. He doesn’t know if he believes you, as much as he wants your words to be true. He wants you to want him still, even though he knows things would be different now. He likes to try and convince himself he could trust you to love him again, but then he remembers how easily you broke his heart and he just hurts all over again.

Are you?

Of course I am! I felt awful, I wanted to say hello to you so badly.

Then why didn’t you? 

The question isn’t malicious or confrontational; he just needs to know how you think so he can figure out he feels. 

I didn’t know how to, you finally reply. 

Saying ‘hello’ is normally a good place to start?

I know, I know, I just

Jimin watches the bubble of ellipses come and go several times, waiting for you to get your words right. He always gave you that, even when the words would hurt him in the end. 

I didn’t know how to explain to the girls who you were.

His heart feels like a cold lump of lead in his chest, almost too heavy to beat.

Didn’t want to have to explain what I did to you.

Despite everything, he still hates to hear/read/see you feel guilty over what happened between you, because it means you’re sad. He’s still got a bit of hardwiring in him that makes him want to cheer you up, to protect you from pain and sadness even when he’s drowning in his own. 

I understand, he finally texts back, wishing he actually did. He doesn’t know how or why he’s the one comforting you when you were the one that broke up with him but here he is, lying in his childhood bedroom merely streets away from you, telling you he understands. Understands that you couldn’t tell your friends he was the guy you’d broken up with before you both left for college mere months ago. Understands that you dropped the bomb on him that you were pretty sure you weren’t in love with him anymore after two years of him devoting every atom of his being to your existence. Understands how you didn’t want to start college with a boyfriend you didn’t feel the same about anymore and might end up hurting in worse ways than just words. 

Jimin blinks back the tears that well up in his eyes as the thoughts pass through his head, his phone locked and clutched to his chest like prayer beads. He wonders if you’re the same, if you’ve been umming and ahhing over whether you should text him or if you’re casually resting on your side with your duvet wrapped around your leg like you normally did before you slept. He wonders if you’re in bed at all, or if you’re sat up at your desk and are only texting him now as an afterthought to your busy day.

Strange shadows appear on his ceiling when his phone lights up under his fingers.

Thank you.

He bites his bottom lip before releasing it and pressing the back of his hand to it instead, knowing his mother will notice in the morning and ask him what he’s been worrying about. He knows you’d ask the same, knowing him just as well, if not better. 

He figures this is his best chance to take his shot to ask.

Can I see you, at some point?

The bubble pops up then disappears again without returning, and he knows you’re trying to figure out how to say no to him nicely.

Just to talk. We could get coffee or something?

He doesn’t want to sound desperate, but he is, and he figures that you might give in if you realise.

No funny business, I promise. I just want to see you one last time, one last conversation and then I’ll leave you be. I just feel like I never really got closure and it would be nice to finally feel like I can move on. [Ever the people pleaser, he adds,] If that’s okay?

If you say no or you don’t reply, he’ll take that as closure and do his best to move on. It will hurt more, but he’ll know where he stands and then he can figure out where to step next. If you say yes, it’ll be awkward, but he’ll be able to figure out where his heart is much quicker by sitting across a table from you. 

The last few months have been disorienting and confusing and painful, spent trying to clumsily mend his heart when he wasn’t quite sure of the extent of the damage. He’s convinced himself that if he sees you and speaks to you, he’ll know whether or not he still loves you. 

If he doesn’t, he can finally put down the weight he’s been carrying and walk away lighter. 

He doesn’t quite have a plan yet for if it turns out he does. 

Of course. When are you free?

It’s bitingly cold on the 28th, the day you and Jimin agree to see each other. It was the one day you were both free that wasn’t too close to Christmas, New Year, or the day you were returning to college for the January term. It was the one day with the least potential for sentimentality. 

He gets there five minutes late, hoping you’re already there and seated rather than him being first. It seems you had the same idea, though, as you walk towards him from the opposite end of the high street. 

While he’s still far enough away to be sure you won’t be able to see it, a puff of white air escapes him as a laugh pushes his lips into a smile. He should have known you’d want to be the one who gets to walk in and withhold your gaze until you’re ready to look at him; you were always both so similar that way. 

He sees you falter and guesses that to be the moment you realise he’s the person walking towards you. Your pace slows slightly, hesitant, before you pick up your speed again. You probably hope he didn’t notice, and he’ll pretend he didn’t. 

You meet in the middle, outside the door to the cafe you used to come and sit in together all the time; impromptu dates, one of you wanting to be out of the house, the other jonesing for a hot chocolate like only Mrs Mae can make. 

Jimin opens the door for you and ushers you inside, and you breathe a gasp of thanks as you hurry into the warmth. Mrs Mae is still pottering about behind the counter, wiping and drying between customers. She turns and smiles before either of you can say anything and her apparent sixth sense is oddly comforting. 

Mrs Mae has always been observant, keeping an eye on everyone who comes into her shop yet somehow making them feel like they have all the privacy in the world in her plush seats. She still pertains that she knew you and Jimin were dating before even the two of you did, and she harbours the secret that she knew it was falling apart before you did, too. 

Her smile is two parts happy and one part sad to see you and Jimin together: pleased to see another pair of town kids all grown up and still coming to her little shop, pleased to see the combination of one of the sweetest couples she’s ever witnessed back together again, but sad to know both of your hearts are broken beyond repair for each other. She knows you’ll never walk into her shop hand-in-hand again, but she’s pleased to see you together nonetheless. 

The machine behind her is already steaming with two hot chocolates, mugs warming while they wait, and she waves you off to sit down before you can even order. 

Muscle memory guides you back to the table you always used to share, tucked against the window in the corner furthest from the door, and Jimin wonders if you notice before you sit down. Whether you do or not, he can’t tell, because you now won’t look at him. Your eyes are turned to the floor as you shrug off your coat, tucking it over the back of the chair, and you stare at your fingers on the tabletop when you sit down.

Jimin sits across from you, sinking into his chair and slowly pulling off his gloves. His coat is over the back of his chair, too, but he can’t bring himself to pull off his matching scarf and beanie, the navy blue contrasting his blond hair in a way that you can’t help but find yourself admiring. 

He doesn’t see how quickly you look away as his gaze drifts back towards you, but Mrs Mae does. She puts the cups of hot chocolate in front of you both, a third plate sliding onto the table between you. You both gape slightly at the two cookies shaped like Christmas trees, small ribbons of green icing criss-crossing over each other with little dabs of bright colours nestled between them. 

“On the house,” she says simply without flourish, tucking her tray back under her arm as she walks away before either of you can protest. 

You clear your throat as Jimin coughs gently into his fist and you finally look up at each other. Jimin feels a pang in his chest at how similar and how different this all is at the same time. The small hints of smiles on your faces are no longer coy and shy like they were when you came here together on your first ‘date’ as teenagers. Everyone insists you’re young adults now, and your lips are turned in an effort to alleviate the awkwardness between you. 

It’s nearly been three months since he last heard your voice and he feels tummy swirl as you open your mouth to speak.

“Good Christmas?” you ask feebly, not sure where else to start but thankful the recent holiday gives you something to talk about. 

“Yeah, it was good, thanks,” Jimin replies as he wraps his hands around his mug to keep them warm, wincing when the hot ceramic stings his palms slightly. “Yours?” You can see the genuine curiosity in his eyes and your heart pangs at the caring side of him that you miss. 

“Yeah, thanks.” You pull your own hot chocolate towards you, looking up to Jimin to offer him a cookie. He insists you choose first with a wave of his hand and so you take the one closest to you between your fingers but you make no move to eat it yet. You hold the cookie delicately with your finger tips, as if it might break if you dare to hold it any tighter. Jimin has already taken a small bite from the top of the tree, careful to produce minimal crumbs, and you wonder if he even noticed the small star on top. You normally save that bit for last. “Why are we here, Jimin?” 

He pauses briefly mid-chew, eyes darting to yours and cheeks flushing pink. He swallows and wordlessly pushes the empty plate towards you, positioning it under your hands that are already starting to break up the cookie into smaller chunks. 

“I just wanted to see you,” he says, looking down into the foam on his hot chocolate. The words are in his chest and it’s taking longer than he would like to get them to come out. It’s the closest experience he’s ever had to that awful limbo of waiting to be sick, although the cookie helps keep the nausea at bay. “The last few months have been… hard,” he finally admits, looking out of the window to the empty street. There’s snow on the pavement and only a few tracks of footprints have distrubed it. He can pick yours out easily. “I’ve gone back over everything you said and I know it’s over,” he says, giving you a pointed look that eases your fears that he was going to try and win you back somehow. “But I just feel like there was still something left to be said, somehow? Maybe I just needed to see you one last time to know how I felt about it all.” 

He trails off, pensively drawing shapes into the tabletop with his fingertip. You use the moment of silence to take a sip of hot chocolate and hiss when it almost scolds your tongue, the sound snapping Jimin from his thoughts with a smirk aimed at the table. 

“And?” you ask when he still doesn’t say anything. “How do you feel? Now that we’re here?”

He frowns, finger stilling, but takes a few more seconds to look up at you. “I don’t know,” he says honestly, and you can hear the sincerity in his tone. “I thought I’d be sad to see you, thought I wouldn’t be able to forget what happened and would want you back, but,” he shrugs with one shoulder, looking down to his cookie as he snaps off an outcrop of branches. “I dunno. I don’t want us to get back together, I know I can’t trust you not to hurt me again.” You swallow thickly, willing the tears away despite the pain in your chest. You deserve to no longer have his trust, but it doesn’t make it any easier to hear him say it out loud. “I think, seeing you now, I’ve realised I just… miss you.” He still holds the smaller piece of cookie between his finger and thumb but his eyes are on you, and you aren’t so successful this time in keeping back your tears. You’ve missed him, too. 

Jimin panics when the first tear rolls over the apple of your cheek, his earring shaking as he drops both pieces of his cookie on the table and reaches a hand out to wipe your cheek before hesitating midway over the table. You brush at your cheek with your own hand, offering him a watery smile as you pick up one of your own broken bits of biscuit. 

“Sorry,” you breathe. “I’ve missed you, as well. It’s nice to know you’ve missed me, too, even though I don’t deserve it.” Jimin’s features soften and he goes to speak, but you cut him off, scared you won’t get your words out if you don’t do this now. “I know I was the one who ended it, I was the one who fell out of love with you and hurt you and broke up with you, but I still missed my friend,” you look up at him and see a soft smile on his lips, his cheek resting in his palm as he watches you. 

You briefly wonder if he’s enjoying seeing you hurting, then you remember he isn’t like that at all. He’s just happy to see you letting out the emotions you’ve been holding in for weeks. 

“I’ve missed my friend, too,” he says quietly as he reaches out to place his free hand over yours, stopping you from completely crumbling the biscuit in your hands. “That’s what I’ve realised. I think that’s why I’ve been struggling so much, because- yes, I was hurting and heartbroken and all that,” you almost laugh at how casually he says it now, a blase wave of his hand as if he’s talking about a minor inconvenience to his day. “But I didn’t realise how much I missed my friend. I think I made my peace with the break up a while ago,” he admits, his hand still on yours but you don’t shake him off, finding comfort in the weight of his palm over your fingers. “I could sort of accept that you didn’t love me anymore, because those things happen and you were honest about it. But I was still grieving, and it’s been so confusing trying to figure out why it wasn’t going away even when my head was telling me I understood it all.” 

You brush your fingers together to rid them of crumbs before turning your hand to hold his, your fingers wrapping around his palm. 

“I felt the same,” you say, Jimin’s gaze flicking up to yours from the vague spot in space he’s been staring at. “I thought I’d done the right thing; it was eating me up inside, knowing I didn’t feel the same anymore and I knew breaking up was the best thing to do. But then I went to college, and I met loads of new people and I thought, ‘This is great, I’ll be fine in no time.’ But I just couldn’t shake the feeling something was missing, something was wrong somehow, and I started thinking I’d made a mistake. Started thinking I shouldn’t have broken up with you, that I should have tried harder or something,” Jimin squeezes your hand gently, his skin still as soft as you always remembered it. You brace yourself for the words you know you have to say, for both of you. “I don’t love you anymore, and I know you’ll fall out of love with me soon, if you haven’t already. You’ll get over me and move on, and we’ll both be fine. I know we said goodbye months ago, but that was as partners; a boyfriend and a girlfriend saying goodbye. I think it’s time for us to say goodbye as friends, too.”

Jimin feels you pull your hand from his and he freezes, scared that you’ll get up and leave him here with two cooling hot chocolates and broken cookies, but you simply lift your cup to take a sip, needing the distraction. He considers your words as his hand slowly retreats back across the table, curling around his own cup but not lifting it. 

“I don’t mean we can’t be friends,” you say, neither of you able to look at each other. “But I think we need to say goodbye to the friendship we’re both mourning. I don’t know if we’ll ever get back to that, and I don’t want either of us to desperately hang onto it when we could be moving forward, figuring out a new friendship instead.”

Jimin catches the hopeful tone in your voice and finds his heart soothing itself from the gallop it was building up to. You don’t want to cut him out, thank God, but you’re right: he needs to let go of what you had before, so you can both make room for what you could have in the future. 

Outside, it starts to snow, and he watches the first few snowflakes fall around each other in their flurries. He figures they’re very similar to you and him in the way they dance around each other in their own spirals. That’s how you will be from now on; the two of you will be following your own paths through life, and you may come close to one another or you both may drift away on different flows of the breeze. 

Either way, he’s sure it will be beautiful. 

“Thank you,” he says finally, biting back a laugh when he turns to see you with a mouthful of cookie and a half-empty mug. You never could sit still when he got lost in his daydreams.

You smile shyly, cheeks flushing, and for the first time Jimin feels just that little bit lighter when he lets himself laugh. He needed this conversation with you, needed to talk it through with the only person who would understand. Knowing that you can - and will - stay friends soothes him, dulling the ache in his chest to just a bit of discomfort, and he knows it’s now possible for it to go away completely with a bit more time. 

He walks home an hour and another two hot chocolates later. You paid for your own, adamant he had to start treating you like Jungkook instead of his girlfriend, although you revoked this when he said he would have made Jungkook pay for his drinks, too. His chest is warmer now than it was earlier, although whether that’s from the lifted weight, the three hot chocolates or the hug you gave him before you parted ways, he’s not sure. 

If you would like to read any of my other works, please follow me and head on over to my masterlist ♡

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[moccahobi]

#Worthit [Jungkook x Reader]

@btsholidaybingo Prompt: Halloween Candy

Warnings: choking... bodily harm from choking. It all ends well!

Word count: 739 words

Authors Note: Hello! I realized that I am slacking on my holiday bingo card! So I hath done some more! I am hoping to write up one more or at least do a little more of these tonight and schedule them to be posted periodically but... we shall see!

Authors Note II: Post lillia here! An annon informed me that if you are choking, you won’t be able to cough. Completely my mistake. I’ve updated the fic so that I do represent the issue properly. But also if you want to learn how to perform the  heimlich, I reccomend watching a video and maybe taking a course on first responding/first aid. 

Carefully, you picked up a piece of candy still in the bag and changed the tally on the sticky note near it. You had eaten almost half the bag today and you knew that there would be hell to pay when Jungkook got home and realized just how much of his candy you’d stolen. 

You loved your boyfriend, but he was strangely possessive over his month old halloween candy… that he hadn’t even gotten from trick-or-treating. He literally bought it from the store, counted it, and has been hoarding it ever since. It made no sense to you. By this point, the candy was going stale. The longer he waits, the less likely there will be much tasty candy left to eat (and not just because you’ll have eaten it first).

With that simple thought in mind, you reached into his bag again, changed the score on the post-it note, and started unwrapping the snack sized candy bar. It was then that you heard your apartment door open. It was Jungkook coming home from work. 

He'd see you eating his candy right away once he left the entrance. 

Fuck.

You knew you'd be in trouble for eating his candy the second you decided to eat one... but now? Was it even worth it?

He'd likely chase you around and eat the candy right in front of you just to spite you before sulking until he decided he was gonig to cook dinner for the night (it was his turn and while he was sometimes petty, he didn't stop sharing the home duties). 

You didn't want to have to watch him eat the candy bar right in front of you.

Panic settled in as you looked possessivly at the candy bar and back at the door. 

It was a calculated move to shove the bar into your mouth and eat it whole. Jungkook couldn't taunt you with it if you eat it before he sees it.

But damn it. 

You were bad at math.

You didn't chew it enough and almost immediately felt it go down the wrong tube.

Air suddenly became hard to get as your body heaved and you tried to cough, no air coming out. 

A strangled groan left you as your hands came to wrap around your throat. Real panic settled as you looked to try to find something you could perform the heimlich on. 

Before you had time to move, Jungkook was in front of you, worry clear on his face. 

Before you knew it, he was performing the heimlich and the candy bar quickly came out. 

Jungkook barely paid attention to the half eaten food that you'd spat out on the floor, his strong arms now gently cradling you and rubbing your back. 

"Jajya? What happened? How are you feeling now? Are you ok?" He was assaulting you with worried questions but all you could focus on was the solidness of him holding you as you slowly felt more sure with the breaths you were taking again, tenderness slowly setting in as you breathed more and more.

"I... I think I am fine now. Thank you so much, Jungkook-ah." 

One of his hands reached up and rubbed your hair softly, "Are you sure? Maybe you should sit down a little. I can clean up." 

You didn't have the heart to argue with him so with his help, you settled into the love seat and watched as he scuttled around the apartment to clean up the mess of half eaten candy on the floor. He didn't even bring up that it was his candy that you'd eaten. Jungkook simply cleaned up, gave you a cup of tea, and curled up around you protectively. He gently rubbed your shoulder as the two of you sat there.

After almost ten minutes of just sitting there, Jungkook slowly started to speak, "So... I'm not mad... but you were choking on some of my candy, right? The stuff that I am trying to save?"

Suddenly, you felt full of energy as you turned around and countered (even with your voice feeling weak and a sharp pain in your ribs), "Saving for what, Jungkook-ah?" 

The energy left you after that though and you found yourself turning back around with even more pain.

“Yes. I was eating your candy… but I think you broke one of my ribs.”

#btsholidaybingo #thebtswritersclub #btscreatorscorner #magicshopnet #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook drabble #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fan fic #bts fanfiction #bts fan fiction #wkcnet

[btsmosphere]

Sparkle | JJK

~summary:

Jungkook may have been planning a little something... a powercut is only a small barrier

Jungkook x female!reader

~word count: 2.5k

~roommates au, friends to lovers, getting together, fluff

Rating: g

Warnings: irresponsible milk drinking(?), tons of fluff

~a/n: so I am taking part in a bingo writing challenge with @btsholidaybingo​ and this is the first of my bingo squares: ‘xmas lights’!! It’s a really fun challenge and I am working on a lot more to come!

At this time of night, when it’s not really night but it’s too dark to still be day, you can enjoy the Christmas lights. From your window, it feels as if you can see the whole city – your house is right at the top of the hill.

Right now, when you can turn your own light off and admire the multicoloured constellations sprawled across the valley, it’s nice. However, when you go to bed it’s a different story. In the darkness of your room at night, it’s all too easy for the festive glow to sneak around your curtains and keep you awake.

Jungkook’s cooking at the moment, so you don’t want to go out and see what kind of horrors are going on in your kitchen.

At least it means he’s taken his music with him. That’s the thing about Jungkook: he’s always surrounded by music. And really, you don’t mind it. In fact, it’s something you’ve come to love. It’s reassuring, knowing another living person is just next door even if you’re snowed under with work and haven’t seen him all day.

And if you haven’t seen Jungkook, it is a bad day indeed.

But at this time of night, when it’s not really night but it’s too dark to still be day, you will take the peace and enjoy the Christmas lights.

Blinking, you realise you zoned out. The lights were floating in your unfocussed vision, but you soon pulled your attention back in. Sweeping your eyes once more over the cityscape, you noticed a darker section.

Then another patch of lights blinked off.

Vaguely, your memory reminded you that was what had jerked you to attention a moment ago. Lights cutting out. It felt like they should merely flicker, and you watched, feeling as if you were in mid-air, waiting for the inevitable moment of meeting the ground again.

But instead, a whole new square of the city fell into darkness.

And then, suddenly, you were blinking, eyes protesting at the newfound dark you had been submerged in. You were frozen, for a second.

Then you whipped around, as if you would find something coming up behind you. Nonsense, really. Your room had already been in darkness to let you watch the lights.

Walking across the space with nothing but muscle memory, your hand stretched out, hesitantly groping for the light switch. When your fingers stumbled across it, you flicked it.

Nothing.

With a sigh, you flipped the switch back off and stuck your head from your bedroom door.

“Kook?”

Your voice came softer than you expected, probably not reaching down the hall. Just as you cleared your throat, the concerning sound of something clattering to the floor interrupted you.

Eyebrows shooting up, you went straight to investigate.

“Kook!” you called into the dark kitchen. As you squinted, you could make out a human-sized shape on the floor, “Are you okay?”

“I think the power went out,” his voice returned.

Though you rolled your eyes, a smile sprung irresistibly to your face.

“Yeah, I had noticed,” you chuckled, “do you need some help-?”

Stepping into the space, it seems your calculations were off. Jungkook was a lot closer than you had expected and your leg hit him, tripping you up. But before you could topple over, Kook’s hands materialised at your hips, pushing you upright again.

“Woah, hey,” he laughed breathlessly, “careful.”

Clambering up from his knees to stand in front of you, you could hear the charming smile he was flashing at you rather than see it. Flustered, you stepped back and away from his hold. For a moment longer, he seemed to forget himself before he dived back down to retrieve the bowl he had dropped.

“Right, well, er,” you struggled to collect your thoughts, “don’t open the fridge until the power comes back. Do we have any candles, or anything-“

“Wait, Y/N, I just started cooking! I need to put everything back in the fridge. What if I open it really fast?”

“I don’t know…” you admitted.

Standing side by side in the dark, staring at the fridge for some sort of answer, you never felt more like a student. Which, of course, you were, but you hadn’t felt this clueless about something since the first time you did your own washing in first year.

“Well, I already cooked the bacon,” Jungkook said, “so it’s really just the milk and cheese.”

“I suppose you could risk opening the fridge,” you shrugged.

“Maybe…” he was chewing his lip. You knew he was.

Sighing, you spun on your heel and headed towards the door again.

“I’m going to go and see if we have any candles, or something.”

Back in your room, you rummaged blindly in your drawer for your phone. Often, as today, you stored it in there to avoid getting distracted by it when you had work to do.

Thankfully, it lit up, but boasted pitifully low charge. You just had to hope it would last long enough for you to find an alternative light source.

Pressing the button for the torch, you started at your wardrobe, wondering if you had any candles left over from birthday presents tucked away. None there, or in your desk or underneath your bed. Resurfacing from between the dusty boxes you kept under there, you slumped back against your bed.

Casting your eye fruitlessly around your room once more, you heaved yourself to your feet.

“Kook, can I go look in your room?” you called, walking back down to the kitchen.

Instead of a response, though, you were met with a spluttering sound. Entering the room, your torch illuminated Kook, hunched over with a milk bottle in one hand. His other was covering his mouth.

“What are you doing now?” you asked, incredulous.

Lifting his head, he coughed once more, sending a single drop of milk down his chin. His shirt was also spattered with it. Tilting you head, you raised your eyebrows.

“Please tell me you’re not chugging our milk.”

“You said not to open the fridge,” he mumbled weakly.

“Oh my god…” you sighed. Unfortunately, you couldn’t help the sudden burst of laughter that overtook you when he gave you full puppy-dog eyes.

“You’re a mess, Jeon Jungkook,” you smiled, “go and get another sweater.”

“This is the only one you haven’t stolen!” he protested.

Biting your lip, you looked bashfully down at the large black jumper you currently had on. Maybe he was right.

A second afterwards, your phone light drastically dimmed. There it stayed for a moment longer as you met Kook’s eyes, before you were both sent back into darkness.

“Ugh,” you groaned, “okay. You can have this jumper, but you need to take that one off. And then we need to find some lights.”

Knowing you were under the cover of darkness, you lifted Jungkook’s sweater over your head and held it out for him. Standing in only your bra and jeans, you noticed the effects of the heating being down.

“Kook,” you shook the jumper in what you hoped was his direction, “take it, come on. I’m cooold.”

“S-sorry,” he stammered, fabric soon leaving your hand.

Trekking back through the hallway, Kook following you this time, you parted ways to go into your respective rooms. You made your way to your wardrobe again with arms outstretched and felt around, picking the first jumper you came into contact with.

“Tada!”

The shout came as you had just put one arm into the sweater. Jumping around, you were met with a bundle of lights and a beaming Jungkook lit up behind them.

“Oh- sorry,” his eyes suddenly grew very round and he turned his back before you could blink.

Tugging the jumper on with haste, you cleared your throat.

“You found lights, then?”

“Yeah, um,” he looked tentatively over his shoulder to confirm it was safe before turning to face you again, “my mum sent up Christmas decorations, remember?”

“Oh! I didn’t realise,” you said, beaming nonetheless, “how come we haven’t put them up yet?”

“Uh, just didn’t have the time, I guess,” he replied as you scooped up a battery pack and began untangling the fairy lights attached to it.

While you worked, a cute frown making its way onto your face as you fought against the knotted wires, Jungkook just watched you through the mass of glowing lights. At last, you got the end free, your victory dance shaking him from his stupor.

“Do you know any card games?” you asked, draping the string of lights around your neck as you did so.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“That’s what people do in power cuts, right?” you brushed past him.

“Um… I guess it is,” Jungkook followed you through to the living room.

Making a start by placing your string of lights along the back of the big sofa, you waited for Jungkook to join in. He was being awfully quiet. After a few moments, he did get the idea and placed the whole luminescent bunch onto the middle sofa cushion, beginning work on your vision.

“God, how many of these are there?” you laughed dryly when you pulled out the third battery pack.

“No idea,” he grimaced, “I thought you liked Christmas lights anyway?”

“I do,” you conceded, “I think they’re working better than candles would have, too.”

Eventually, the two of you had cocooned your living space in the lights. The nest of space between your sofa, rug and chairs was bathed in the warm white light. Stepping back, you couldn’t help but smile.

It was still too quiet, though.

“Are you alright?” you asked quietly.

“Hmm? Yeah,” Jungkook spoke, standing to join you observing your hard work.

“You just seem quiet,” you mumbled.

As if to prove your point, Jungkook let silence elapse between you. But, like always with you two, it was comfortable.

“Cards?” he prompted after a while.

“Oh, yes,” you remembered, tearing your eyes from the scene in front of you to the boy at your side, “do we… own a pack of cards?”

Lips parting in thought, he tilted his head to one side.

“We don’t, do we?”

At the same time, you both grinned, laughing softly. The sight of his smile only served to make yours wider.

“Blankets?” he proposed instead.

You quickly agreed. On your return to the living room, you laughed out loud, finding Jungkook holding out a wine glass full of milk for you.

“I could grate some cheese for dinner but that’s just depressing,” he gave a small smile.

Laughing loudly, you made a show of swirling the milk around your cup and sniffing at it like the tasters on tv, before sipping it.

However, Jungkook’s laughter cut off as he sunk down beside you, his fingers fidgeting around the stalk of his own glass.

“Kook, what’s going on?” you gently elbowed him, “you’re so quiet.”

“I, er,” he freed a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, “how about some music?”

“Yeah, okay,” you frowned, “but, Kook, the power’s out-“

“Just wait here, okay?”

And then he was gone before you could protest, practically running from the room.

Was something seriously wrong? You knew you had been busy lately, but you always tried to make time to see your flatmate. In all honesty, he was the highlight of your day, and you had to stop yourself from fantasising about being more than friends…

But right now, you were worried. Right now, it seemed like he needed a friend, but since when had he started acting like this?

Before you could get up and follow him, though, you heard his footsteps returning. Not a moment later, he rounded the corner with a guitar in his hand. Definitely not what you had been expecting.

“I didn’t know you played guitar,” you said. It surprised you; for all that you could hear his music from your room, you would have thought you’d have heard if he had been playing the guitar.

“I’ve been learning,” he didn’t quite meet your eyes, shuffling his feet.

“Okay,” you spoke slowly.

While you waited, he walked forwards and sat on one of the chairs facing you.

Just before he began, he looked up. Somehow your heart melted at his big eyes, heart already in your mouth for some reason.

And then his face was lit up in profile again, soft glow highlighting his features. As you gazed at him, unable to look away, his fingers began to pick out a soft tune. For someone so modest, he was incredibly skilled. Watching and listening in awe, your heart nearly burst when he started singing too.

His voice, though he sang softly, clearly a little nervous, floored you. And the words… he was singing about love, about a beautiful girl that made him happy, a girl he wanted to stay happy.

In your head, you had the privilege of imagining that girl was you.

All too soon, the song came to a close.

Staring at him, you held your breath to the last second before he relaxed, lowering his hand and putting his guitar to one side.

“That was beautiful, Kook,” you breathed.

But instead of responding, he stood, taking your gaze with him as he crossed to sit beside you on the sofa. A small smile curved his lips, a ghost of a laugh falling between them.

“I had a whole night planned out,” he waved his hand, “I was making carbonara, and-and I had all these decorations waiting in my room, I know you love them…”

While he took a deep breath, yours was completely stuck in your throat.

“I’m sorry about the, uh, the milk,” he chuckled, “it’s not exactly romantic, but… I was wondering if you wanted to be my girlfriend?”

Finally having forced the words out, he looked nervously up at you with glistening eyes, no doubt thanks to your magical setup. He watched with that unwavering gaze as you tried desperately to form words in your head, simultaneously trying to process if you were in the real world at all.

“Please answer,” he whispered.

Until then you hadn’t noticed how impossibly close to each other you were. Until his words brushed against your lips.

Suddenly your brain caught up with itself, deciding this was real after all.

“O-of course,” you rushed out, tongue momentarily darting to your lips, “yes, yes!”

“Yes?” he repeated, eyes widening more, if that was possible, seeming in total disbelief.

With sudden bravery, you surged forwards, pressing your lips to his. Melting into the kiss, you felt his hands float up to your waist, hesitant at first until you kissed him harder, pulling him forwards with your hands fisted in the sweater you had recently given up.

Now he was kissing back with equal measures of hunger and tenderness, hands holding you firmly.

When you broke apart, exhilarated and reluctant to let each other go, you let your forehead fall against his.

“Yes.”

The grin he awarded you was brighter than all the lights around you. And later that night when the city burst into light again, barging past your curtains to interrupt your darkness, neither of you paid it any mind.

Hope you enjoyed! Please reblog if you did💜xx

@aianloveseven​ @preciouschimine​ 

Contact me to be tagged in new work!

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[joheun-saram]

String Me Along (kth)

Summary- Falling in love with your best friend doesn’t always go like the movies.

word count- 1.2k

pairing- nonidol!Taehyung x Reader

rating- PG-13

genre- angst

warnings- none! 

a.n- Part of my drabbles for @btsholidaybingo​, ticking off the Xmas Lights tile! I’ll be posting these every week or so as I get them done. Check out the other drabbles here :)

s/o to the amazing @aroseforyoongi for helping me rephrase the ending! 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

-

Friendships between a guy and a girl are always romanticised. Novels and movies ending with the two protagonists that start as friends and end up together always sell out. And why wouldn’t they? It’s a perfect trope. What could be better than falling for your best friend? The person that knows you best also being the person that you romantically spend the rest of your life with seems perfect.

But life’s never perfect, is it? 

Taehyung never thought he would fall for you. Why would he? You grew up together. He was there the first time you broke your nose when you were ten, spilling blood onto the concrete. He was there when your face was covered in so much acne in middle school that you could barely see the skin below. He was there when you confessed to your first love in grade eight, only to get laughed at. He was there when you first got drunk in grade ten, not knowing your limits and puking all over the quarterback’s front yard. He was there whenever you got obsessed with a new band and talked his ear off about their backstory in excruciating details.

Taehyung never thought he would fall for you, but he did. Sometime after you graduated university, the things about you that would make him roll his eyes and scoff, made his heart race. It was the way you were overly competitive and destroyed him in any game the two of you played. It was the way you started wearing eyeliner that turned your eyes hypnotizing. It was the way you always spoke your mind and bravely chased opportunities even if you thought you would fail. It was the way you lit up any room you walked into. It was the way you were always passionate about the most niche topics, researching them to no end for nothing more than to satisfy your own curiosity.

Every time the two of you were together, he would feel it. His heart skipping a beat at your scent as you hugged him hello. His nerves tingling at each touch, his face flushing at each laugh. He hated being a cliche - hated being the sad sack who fell for his best friend. But he never hated it more than when he decided he was going to confess at your annual holiday party. 

He had showed up early to help you decorate. It was a tradition between the two of you; ten years in the making, withstanding distance and fights. No matter how tumultuous your relationship was, the two of you would always spend the afternoon before your parties stringing Christmas lights around your parent’s living room or your dorm or your apartment, depending on the stage of life you were currently at. He relished this alone time with you as the two of you mixed terrible eggnog nobody would touch and ate an early dinner in preparation to welcome your friends and drink the night away.

This year, however, the tradition was broken. Not because you didn’t meet up but because this year there was someone else there. A tall, handsome older man with broad shoulders that you introduced as your new boyfriend. You had had boyfriends before, that was not what worried him. What worried him was that in the fifteen years he had known you, he had never heard you laugh like that. Your face lit in adoration as your boyfriend cracked a lame dad joke that wasn’t even worthy of a sharp exhale. But here you were, trying not to snort into the eggnog as he wrapped his arms around you, kissing your cheek fondly, and telling you the drink was ‘eggcellent’. 

Taehyung found your new love interest annoying. He was far too tall, far too conventionally attractive, and his laugh sounded excruciatingly like windshield wipers working overtime. But what he found the most annoying was how happy he made you. Happier than he had ever seen you.

It was like you had forgotten that Taehyung was even there as he ran around your apartment stringing lights. You were lost in your boyfriend, sneaking kisses and whispers. Your own little bubble, excluding him unknowingly. He felt stupid thinking that today would be the day he would finally be able to be with you, finally be able to hold you like he wanted the past three years. 

The necklace he had gotten you for his grand gesture weighed heavier in his pocket each time he sneaked a glance your way. He had planned it perfectly. He was going to bring you hot chocolate from your favourite little cafe downtown and smile gently as you groaned in satisfaction at the first sip. He was going to lift you up so you could attach the lights to the really high hook in the corner. He was going to spend the day listening to your stories before giving you his present - a dainty necklace you had shown him on instagram three months ago, the one that he knew was still in your wish list. He was going to put it around your neck, lingering on your skin before telling you how he had spent the last three years loving you from afar. He was going to kiss you. Kiss you so well that poets would write sonnets about it, that fireworks would be puffs of glitter against it, that no words would do the experience justice. 

But life’s never perfect, is it?

So now Taehyung sits, his food getting cold and his beer getting warm, as he watches you feed your boyfriend bites of your favourite spicy noodles from the Thai place down the street, giggling as he complains about the flavour. He finds it odd, not only because you hate public displays of affection, but you especially hate sharing your food. It was like you were a whole new person, your eyes glittering in the dancing lights of your living room.

Taehyung has known you since he was eight, but as he watches you dance with your new boyfriend, your arms wrapped around his neck as the two of you sway slowly to Jimin’s EDM playlist blasting from the speakers, he thinks he doesn’t know you at all. You never showed this side of you to him, the one filled with warmth, and he realizes, slowly but all of a sudden, that you’re in love. You’re in love but not with him. He watches you kiss him slowly as all your friends cheer, your cheeks flushed, and he realizes that you will never look at him that way. 

When at midnight, your boyfriend pulls out a slim case and puts the same necklace that’s in Taehyung’s pocket around your neck, he realizes maybe your new boyfriend isn’t so bad. Life’s never perfect and Taehyung smiles softly as you turn around to look at your boyfriend and smile at him with glassy eyes. 

Taehyung knows without a doubt that you don’t love him as he stumbles home after too many beers. Laying in bed, he thinks about the night and remembers that for the first time in your years long friendship, you forgot to hug him goodbye, opting for a wave from across the room. Maybe it was inevitable that one of you would catch feelings, that’s what the media warned him about. But he realized that he didn’t mind if you didn’t love him because you were happy, and how could he be sad when the person he loved had what they wanted?

#bts fic #bts scenarios #taehyung imagine #taehyung angst #taehyung x reader #v imagine #v scenario #v x oc #v angst #tae angst #tae imagine #tae x reader #btsholidaybingo #thebtswritersclub

[luffles424]

Unmasked

☼ Pairing: Seokjin x reader

☼ Genre: fluff, smut, pwp, humor, established relationship

☼ Count: 1.9K

☼ Warnings: 18+, teasing, face sitting, oral (f & m receiving), Seokjin being a chaotic bf

☼ Summary: Seokjin wants to surprise you with his “sexy” Halloween costume. His costume for you might just be even more surprising though.

☼ a/n: The first of a couple of Halloween fics I’ve got and am going to hopefully get out by tomorrow night! Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

☼ Written for @btsholidaybingo​​​​ to fill the square scary masks

“Are your eyes closed?”

You snort as you adjust so that you’re more comfortable on the bed. “Yes, Jin. They’re closed.”

You hear him shuffling around and you have the urge to peek, but you know he’ll catch you and you’ll never hear the end of it. You had expected to come home and be fucked. That’s certainly where it had been leading after you both had departed your friend’s house, pleasantly buzzed and unable to keep your hands to yourselves. He’d pinned you to the wall in the hallway and kissed you senseless. But the second he had you striped and on the bed, he decided there would be a change of plans. 

Because apparently he had some sexy costume that he wanted your opinion on and now was the time he had deemed it perfect to show you. Maybe you’d blow him in the morning and stop before him cums as payback. He deserves it for this. 

“Are you ready?”

“I’m ready for you to fuck me,” you snark, earning a light smack on your thigh. You grin. 

The bed shifts as he moves closer to you. “You have to be honest if you hate it, okay?”

You wish he could see your eyes so he could see your eyeroll. He knows you’ll always be honest about his questionable fashion choices. It’ll never stop you from being supportive of said terrible choices as well, but he should at least know that tags on your shoes is not as cool as he thinks it is. “Yeah, yeah okay. I’ll be honest. Can we hurry this up and get to the part where your dick ends up in me?”

He slaps your thigh again. “Stop being such a fun sucker.”

“Would rather suck something else,” you murmur, earning another smack. You giggle. “Okay! Can I open my eyes and see this “great” costume.”

“I don’t appreciate the air quotes.” You feel Seokjin shift slightly again, leaning closer to you. “Okay, open them.”

You blink them open slowly, taking a moment to readjust to the light. And then you promptly scream as you come face to face with a snarling gray face, fangs big and prominent. Seokjin’s squeaky laugh floats out from the grotesque mask he’s decided to wear. You shove at his chest, but he doesn’t budge as his laughter continues. Your other hand presses to your chest where you can feel your heart pounding against your ribcage. You’re going to fucking kill him. You wanted to get laid, not get scared to death.

“What the fuck! Are you trying to give me a heart attack! How is this even supposed to be sexy?”

“Cause I’m naked. So it’s sexy. But it’s Halloween so it also has to be scary.” He says it like it’s obvious and you might just actually murder him. His hands rest on his hips. “So it’s sexy scary.” He states proudly, like it’s the most obvious thing ever.

The longer he giggles the more you want to shut him up. You tug the mask from his head, tossing it to the floor. He gives you a mischievous and delighted grin and then you push at him until he’s lying on the bed. You know exactly how to shut him up. You shift, kneeling above his head as your thighs bracket his face. 

He grins up at you. “Isn’t it a great costume? The sexiest vampire, right?”

You groan. He’s entirely too proud of this. “You need to stop talking.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Then make me.”

“Gladly,” you coo and Seokjin’s hands wrap around your thighs, encouraging and clearly on the same page as you shift closer. 

You shiver as his warm breath puffs against your pussy. Hands tightening, he pulls you down onto his tongue. Finally you’re getting what you wanted. Even if you had to take a small detour to humor Seokjin’s desire to scare the fuck out of you. You groan, planting your hands on his chest so you can roll your hips against his face, eyes squeezing shut and head falling back. You certainly hadn’t planned to sit on his face tonight, but you can’t find it in yourself to complain when he twists his tongue just right against you. Pleasure licks up your spine and you let yourself enjoy his mouth for a few minutes before you’re shifting forward. 

Your hands drop to the bed beside his hips and your gaze drops to his cock, planning to take him in your mouth, get him worked up and desperate to fuck you. But you freeze before you do much more than look at it. You blink a few times, as if that will make the black and red fabric that flows down from just below the head of his cock and covers his entire length. 

Your mouth opens then snaps shut. You honestly shouldn’t be surprised by this point by his antics. You should’ve known there was more to it than just the mask, nothing’s ever that simple with him. A swipe of his tongue across your clit jolts you, bringing you back to the reality of what’s happening right now. You’re sitting on his face, staring at the fucking vampire cape that he tied to his dick. It’s so utterly ridiculous. A giggle slips from your lips and it’s like a dam breaks. You’re quickly full on laughing, lifting yourself from his face to flop on the bed beside him as you laugh. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?! You really tied a tiny cape to your dick?”

Seokjin pushes himself up onto his elbows, lips shining as he grins. “What’s a vampire without his cape?” He wiggles his hips, cock and cape swaying with the movement. You wonder if he didn’t want to scare you to death but to make you laugh yourself to death.

You suck in a wheezing breath, trying to speak between your giggles. “I can’t believe you really wore that while trying to fuck me. You’re unbelievable.”

Seokjin turns, grabbing hold of your thigh and pulling it closer so he can nip at the flesh. Your laughter dies off as his teeth graze higher up, inching closer to your cunt. He tugs at your hip, adjusting you so that you’re fully on your side and he hitches your thigh up so his mouth can properly brush against your pussy when he speaks. 

“I find it hard to believe that you never expected something like this and that it also doesn’t turn you on.”

You swallow a moan as his tongue darts out to swipe across your clit. “S-sorry to break this to you, but fabric wrapped around your dick doesn’t do it for me. I actually rather enjoy it completely bare.”

Seokjin hums, giving your clit a slight suck. “Then why don’t you undress it, baby.”

His lips latch onto your clit again, tongue circling the nub and robbing you of any comeback. You moan as his focus shifts entirely to your pussy, his fingers digging into your thighs. You stare at his cock, now only half draped in the cape as his position has caused it to slip partially off. 

You reach up, tugging the knot on the cape until the fabric slips completely free from his dick. His movements stutter against you as you wrap a hand around his cock, giving him a few pumps before leaning closer to wrap your lips around the tip. 

Seokjin groans against you, picking up his pace. You feel your orgasm rising quickly, years of being together has Seokjin knowing all the right places to hit to get you off. You slip further down his dick until he hits the back of your throat. It constricts around him slightly and you’re rewarded with another low groan against your pussy. 

You pull off his cock, moaning his name as he slips two fingers into you. He just hums against you, fingers working in tandem with his tongue. It’s enough to push you over the edge. Your grip on his cock tightens involuntarily as he continues his movements, working you slowly through your orgasm. When you whine, he pulls back and you hear him suck his fingers into his mouth to clean them.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you start working your hand over his cock, jerking him slowly. You want to tease him a little, give him a little payback for his dumb mask. His hips stutter when you thumb over the head of his cock and you’re slightly surprised that he’s already so close to coming. You wonder why he decided to stop to put on a mask rather than just getting off if he was this riled up. Though a part of you wonders if the teasing and joking is part of what got him riled up. You’ll be damned if you ever let him wear that vampire mask in the bedroom again. The cape though…

A plan forms in your mind and you check that his eyes are closed before carefully grabbing the little cape. 

You pick up your pace on his cock, drawing more moans from him until he’s gasping that he’s about to cum. Your tongue darts out, swiping across the head to catch the first burst of his release and then you’re quickly replacing your mouth with the cape. You bite your lip to keep from giggling, working him through his orgasm instead. 

He flops onto his back when he’s finished and with a smirk you through the soiled fabric over the edge of the bed. 

“I worked hard on that costume, you know,” he grumbles.

You move so you can cuddle him properly, pressing a kiss to his chest. “No you didn’t. You definitely bought both of those.”

“It was a lot of thought though.”

You hum softly, letting the peace settle around you for a few moments before Seokjin speaks again. 

“Well… If you don’t like my sexy costume. I hope you at least enjoy yours. I did work really hard on that one.”

You groan. You can only imagine how terrible this is going to be given what he was wearing. He turns away from you, digging in the night stand drawer, which has your interest piqued. He had kept it in the drawer? Then he’s turning back, looking suddenly much more nervous. He presents a small velvet box to you and you blink. There’s no way.

He flips the lid open with a shy smile, revealing a sparkling ring tucked within. “Marry me?”

You stare at the ring for a long moment before your gaze is darting up to his face. “Are you serious?”

He chuckles nervously. “I know I joke a lot. But I’m the most serious I’ve ever been. I love you so much. Nothing would make me happier than to get to call you my wife too.”

You look at the ring again, tears welling in your eyes. “You big idiot, yes of course I will!”

A relieved breath leaves him and he quickly pulls the ring free from it’s confines to slip onto your finger. When he’s done, you press a kiss to his lips. 

“I love you so much. Sexy doting husband is a much better costume than your vampire.”

Seokjin presses a kiss to your neck before his lips brush your ear. “I can go get an apron and cook for you in just that.”

You giggle. “Like you didn’t do that already.”

“And I’ll do it forever now too.”

#btsholidaybingo #bangtanarmynet #hyunglinenetwork #btsguild #kwritersworldnet #thekimlinenet #ksmutclub #magicshopnet #btswriterscollective #bangtanhq #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #seokjin fanfic

[shuadotcom]

Sweet Morning | KNJ (M)

🤎 Summary: On one of Namjoon’s days off, you don’t want to do anything except spend the morning together, just the two of you. 🤎 Pairing: Namjoon x Female!Reader 🤎 Genre: Fluff, smut, established relationship, slice of life 🤎 Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED) 🤎 Warnings: Penetrative sex, fingering, cursing 🤎 Word Count: 1.8k 🤎 A/N: For @btsholidaybingo​ | Bingo Square: Hot Chocolate

Light shines through the partially open blinds and warms the cold room. Despite it being November and the air being brisk, the sun is bright and warm. The blanket that’s thrown in you haphazardly becomes too hot. Barely awake, you kick the thick cover off of your bare body and grumble into your pillow. After a few more minutes of unsuccessfully trying to get back to sleep, you open your eyes only to end up squinting at the offending sunlight.

"Joon," you mumble, rolling over, expecting to see your boyfriend's still sleeping body. Instead, you’re met with an empty space. You let out a sigh and reluctantly pull yourself out of bed, grabbing the first piece of clothing your hand touches from the floor. Upon further inspection, it turns out to be the black t-shirt you had practically ripped from Namjoon's body the night before. Shrugging, you pull it over your head and make your way to the bathroom.

After quickly brushing your teeth, you shuffle down the hallway in your slippers, trying to find a clue as to where your boyfriend is. It doesn’t take long for your nose to find the answer; the smell of eggs hitting you as soon as you round the corner into the kitchen.

Namjoon is in front of the stove, spatula in hand as he flips an omelet in the sizzling pan. You watch as he moves to the opposite counter where two mugs and a tin of hot chocolate mix are waiting. He spoons the powder into each cup and mixes both quickly before returning to the eggs. He’s shirtless, only in his boxers and an apron, and you can’t help but admire the way the muscles in his broad back move as he reaches to open the small window above the stove.

Namjoon nearly knocks the pan off of the stovetop when your arms wrap around his waist.

"Shit, Y/n! You almost gave me a heart attack." You let out a chuckle as you lay your head against the middle of his back.

"Not my fault, I'm too stealthy for you. But, can I say how impressed I am that you’re cooking and my kitchen is still intact." Namjoon rolls his eyes and cuts the stove off before he turns around in your hold.

"You're lucky I'm so hungry right now," Namjoon leans down, and you feel his warm breath hit your cheek. "If I weren’t, I'd have to punish you for getting sassy with me." He speaks in a low, deep tone, making you shudder. Images of the previous night fill your head; flashes of bare skin and the sounds of soft groans and whines.

Namjoon chuckles at your dazed expression. "But it's time for me to eat breakfast with my lovely girlfriend while the food is still hot." He places a kiss on your forehead and slips out of your arms.

"Don’t you have a clear schedule today?" you ask, grabbing both mugs of hot chocolate.

"Yep. We have the next two days off, while Sejin-hyung deals with a few personal things. That means I'll be with you for the next forty-eight hours, whether you like it or not!" He teases, lightly bumping his hip into yours on his way to the dining room table.

The two of you fall into easy conversation while eating, each of you enjoying the sound of the other's voice. Namjoon tells you about upcoming performances and interviews the group has, and you tell him about your college courses and how work is going. It has been weeks since the two of you have been able to sit down and catch up, so you end up getting so wrapped up in each other that you don’t notice as time ticks by.

Eventually, your plates are clean, your mugs are empty, and the sun shines into the room brighter than before. Namjoon gathers the dishes and brings them into the kitchen. He refuses to let you help, shooing you out of the room instead.

"Go take a shower and get dressed. Think about some things we can do today while I finish the dishes, okay?" He taps your nose with his index finger and disappears into the kitchen. You take your time going back to your room, plopping onto the bed and staring at the ceiling in thought. What did you want to do?

You don’t feel like going out and sitting through a movie, nor do you feel like shopping. To be honest, you don’t feel like doing anything that involves leaving the house.

Suddenly, an idea forms. With a smile on your face, you skip through the apartment and back into the kitchen. Namjoon is too busy scrubbing to notice your presence.

As quietly as you can, you slip the t-shirt off of your body and let it hit the kitchen floor.

"Hey, Joon?" Namjoon hums in response but doesn’t turn around. "I know what I want to do today."

"And what would that be?" Namjoon glances over his shoulder, and you hear the dish in the sink fall from his hands, almost making you burst into laughter at the look on his face. Instead, you hold your composure and wait for him to turn off the running sink. "So...you don't want to go out, I take it?"

"Nope."

"I see..." Namjoon grabs a dishtowel and dries his hands before turning to face you. His initial surprise is gone and replaced with the confidence you know he holds. "Your wish is my command, my love." Namjoon is across the room in no time, scooping you into his arms and attaching his lips to yours.

You’ve kissed many times in your relationship, and no matter how many times you do, you feel yourself falling for Namjoon more and more each time. The way his soft lips work over yours and the way he nibbles on your bottom lip every couple of seconds makes your skin heat up, and your head feels fuzzy. He has an amazing effect on your body that you can’t explain, no matter how hard you try.

Somewhere between the kitchen and the bedroom, Namjoon loses his boxers, and you’ve just about lost your mind with the way his fingers run over your breast, tugging on your nipple as he goes. He gently lays you onto the bed and leans over you, placing a light kiss on your neck. He works his way down your body slowly, his lips leaving small, closed mouth kisses over every part of your skin he can. When he reaches your thighs, he wastes no time opening your legs, which has you whining in anticipation.

There’s a smile on Namjoon's face as he slides a finger inside of you, watching the way your body squirms at the sensation.

"You're so wet for me, babygirl. I love it." You buck your hips up towards his hand in response, silently asking for more. Namjoon notices and slips a second finger in, his pace speeding up with the addition. Your hands clutch the off-white bed sheets as you move along with the pace of his fingers, feeling him both curl them and spread them.

He’s prepping you for his cock, which you’re incredibly grateful for. No matter how rushed or lustful you both were in any given moment, Namjoon always thought of you and your well-being first. He always wanted you to be comfortable and happy before he worried about himself even a little bit.

"N-Namjoon?" You choke out, struggling to keep your eyes open as he continually plunges his fingers deeper.

"Hmm?"

"I’m ready. I need you now, please. Please." You barely finish your sentence before Namjoon is pulling his fingers from you and rummaging through your bedside drawer for a condom. A whimper leaves your mouth at the feeling of being empty, but just as quickly, you feel the head of his cock nudging your entrance.

"I love you so much," Namjoon murmurs as he pushes into your pussy slowly and deliberately. Once he bottoms out, he stops, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion.

"You can move now. Please move." There is no time wasted as Namjoon immediately begins a slow, rhythmic pace. You bring your arms up and wrap them around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

While the previous night had been much more frantic and full of rough hands and equally as rough thrusts, this is different. This wasn't about how many times Namjoon could make you cum or how loud he could get you to be. You wanted to savor each other and enjoy the feeling of soft skin, quiet breaths, and the love that you shared.

"I love you. I love you so much," Namjoon mumbles, peppering your face with kisses. His grip on your hips tightens as he moves just a little faster. Your breath hitches when you feel the tip of his cock perfectly brushing against your g-spot.

"I love you too. I love..." Your words trail off when his thumb wanders to your clit, rubbing the sensitive bud, making your vision get spotty. You feel your thighs shaking as your orgasm nears and you clench around him. "J-Joon, I'm s-so close."

"Me too, love," Namjoon says through gritted teeth as he speeds up once more, and this is all it takes to have you both reaching your peak together. Namjoon cums with a low groan, and you let out what sounds like a squeal as the warm sensation shoots through your body and makes your vision spotty.

Namjoon gives your sensitive body two more shallow thrusts before he pulls out as gently as possible. He grabs a few tissues from the bedside and gingerly cleans you up, then himself. Once the used condom is disposed of, and he’s lying down, you crawl next to him, slotting yourself perfectly against his side. You both lie there, basking in the late morning sun as it peers through the curtains.

"You know," Namjoon speaks first, "We have the rest of the day to do something still. We could go to an amusement park or go for a walk or-"

"I'd rather just lay here with you if that's okay." Your voice is full of exhaustion as you snuggle closer to him.

He lets out a chuckle and pulls you closer. "That's completely okay with me." Namjoon leans down to place a kiss on the top of your head and pulls the blanket around you more. “I know I already said it a bunch, but I love you so much."

"I love you too, more than you will ever know, Joon." You say, a yawn immediately following as you feel yourself drifting off. Namjoon isn’t far behind, his eyelids getting heavy and quickly sliding closed.

Even if it’s still early in the day and the city of Seoul is out and about, neither of you pay that any mind. You don’t seem to care if you sleep the whole day away, which is precisely what you both plan to do.

#btsholidaybingo #btsnoonanet #hyunglinenetwork #heartsforbts #btswritingcafe #ficswithluv #bangtanarmynet #bangtanhq #bangtanuniversity #btsbookclub #btswriterscollective #houseofddaeng #magicshopnet #thebtsficarchive #thebtswritersclub #kim namjoon x reader #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon fluff #namjoon fanfic #bts fic

[written-in-flowers]

The Candyman Can

Pairing: Minjoon

Genre: smut/ AU: criminal!au, crime!au

Word Count: 3k

Summary: "...The candyman can 'cause he mixes it with love and makes the world taste good./ And the world tastes good 'cause the candyman thinks it should." Namjoon gets a visit from The Candyman on the naughtiest night of the year.

Disclaimer: These works are completely fictitious and for entertainment purposes only. They are not meant to reflect or label the members of BTS in any way. The events within never took place. Thank you

Tags: mentions of death, serial killer, patient/doctor relationship, slight roleplay, light bondage, blowjobs, anal sex, sex toys, slight roleplay. 

A/N: this is for the bingo square “Halloween Candy” for the @btsholidaybingo event! and wanted to thank @voiceswithoutlips​ for the mood board!

****

The papers called him ‘The Candyman’ despite how cliche and unoriginal it sounds. Two years ago, he’d been Park Jimin, owner of Chimmy’s Confectionary outside the local farmer’s market. He sold handmade hard candies, chocolates, milk shakes, and all kinds of other sweets. He charmed customers with his bright personality and said candy made everything better. Namjoon learned his shop sold what he called ‘Candy Delights’. Multi-colored hard candies inside an acrylic plastic box, they were the shop’s most popular product. Especially for Halloween. Little hard and gummy candies shaped like jack-o-lanterns, ghosts, witches and spiders came in boxes of various sizes and themes. People could order specialty ones ahead of time or buy them in the store. Police said it’s how Jimin found his victims. 

Lawrence Stein ordered the ‘Witch Mix’ for his wife. 

Amanda Fernandez bought her best friend the ‘Boo-Berry Box’ as part of a congratulatory gift. 

Daniel Johnson purchased the special ‘Monster Delight’ for his teen daughter’s halloween party. 

Normal people. Normal purchases. Jimin poisoned dozens and dozens of people with his special Candy Delights. Police tried finding some reason for it. Nothing connected the victims beyond their purchases at his store. They supposed financial, political, or religious reasons, but Jimin scoffed at them all. Namjoon knew why Jimin did it once he read the file: the thrill. It’s the thrill of knowing a secret and not telling anyone. He imagined Jimin, smiling in his yellow apron, as an unsuspecting customer walked off with another Monster Delight or Witch Mix. He’d see people eat them in the store and wait. Will they get sick? Will they die? The candies came in varying degrees of toxicity, if the batch had any poison at all. It isn’t about the killing or death for him. It’s all about chance and luck. 

Two things Namjoon did not have tonight. 

He groaned as the world came back to him. His mind tried putting the pieces together immediately, working out where he was for a few seconds. Namjoon recalled coming home after a long day of having therapy sessions and filing paperwork. He’d changed into his clothes, yes, and sat down for a movie and dinner. Staring around, he felt grateful he was still in his living room. Namjoon wiggled, but found himself stuck in place. Several lengths of rope bound his torso and ankles to a dining chair. Someone had also done away with the shirt and pants he’d been wearing, leaving him in his boxers only. His heart beat thumped loudly in his ears; the panic finally set in with a million horrible scenarios flashing before him. 

“Oh good, you’re awake! I was worried I gave you a lethal dose by accident.”

He came out from behind him. Namjoon tried keeping his jaw from dropping at the sight of him. His tunic made of white sheer fabric, it ended far too high on his strong thighs. If he turned the right way, Namjoon could see glimpses of his slim, toned body underneath. The angel wings he wore were short and made of fake feathers; his silver halo stayed pinned to his black hair. He’s much more radiant and bright outside of his dreary hospital clothes. This is always the difficult part when it came to Jimin: so much sweetness and beauty hid the evil within him. Namjoon built up a tolerance to it over the years, but he’d caught Jimin charming his way through everything and everyone. Guards, nurses, orderlies, and other doctors fell victim to Jimin’s looks. Namjoon will admit he wavered from time to time, but always caught himself. Jimin is his patient at a psychiatric hospital. He cannot let his guard down...not even when he’s strapped to a chair half naked with Jimin so close by.

“How are you feeling?” he leaned to examine Namjoon closely, “Any nausea or trouble breathing?”

“Jimin, how did you-”

“-Escape? It was easy actually,” he smiled. “I found this opening in the fence a few days ago and it leads straight on through to the lake behind the hospital. I realized if you made a few more turns, you ended up in the front of the building, and well, why miss that chance, right?” 

“And then you found my car…”

He nodded, “I knew it was yours from the times I’ve seen you leave at night. My room does face the entrance, you know.”

“So, you snuck into my car, hid there, and then broke in here?”

“Yup. Really clever, huh?”

Namjoon knew better than to say ‘no’. “It is,” he said instead, “that requires a lot of stealth and chance. It’s very fitting for you.”

It unnerved him. He pictured himself moving through his house completely unaware that he had an uninvited guest. Namjoon had a thousand questions for the younger, but he kept them to himself. He needed to keep Jimin occupied until help could come. Surely, someone at the hospital will notice Jimin missing at lights out. They’ll be rounding up police forces to search for the Candyman, but for a flicker of a second, Namjoon worried they might not. Jimin isn’t violent or physical. He killed his victims without laying a finger on them. Bloodshed sickens him, from what he told Namjoon. In an altercation with another patient, Jimin let the man beat him. Then he heard the man suffered severe sickness in his cell later that night. Jimin will not stab or hit him, but his eyes shift to a bowl of candy sitting on his coffee table. He’d bought it for trick-or-treaters tonight...who knows what Jimin did to it within that time? 

“I found this costume in your closet, by the way,” he gestured to his outfit. “Did you plan on giving it to someone?”

“I did.”

“Who?”

“My...my boyfriend...well,” he shrugged, “Ex-boyfriend, anyways.” 

Jimin slipped onto his lap, which made Namjoon’s breath catch in his throat. Namjoon preferred not talking about Hoseok. They’d met a few months ago at Jungkook’s birthday party and they hit it off right away. The pair went through their honeymoon phase before the reality set in for them. They proved only compatible in bed and nowhere else. Namjoon bought him the angel costume before the latter broke up with him...over text no less. Seeing Jimin in it, noticing now he’d altered the length, he tried keeping himself composed. He can’t let Jimin see-or feel-how tempted Namjoon felt. Gosh, he’s always been weak for pretty faces and Jimin’s is the prettiest he’s ever seen. 

“Aw,” Jimin pouted, slipping his arms over Namjoon’s shoulders, “That sucks. He dumped you?”

“Yeah.”

“Well that’s stupid of him. You’re so…” he leaned in until their lips were inches away from each other, “Handsome. You’re very smart and caring too. You have to be if you became a psychologist at a prestigious hospital right out of college.”

“How did you-”

“-I looked it up,” he shrugged. “I’ve always had a thing for nerdy guys. You wouldn’t believe how lucky I felt when I saw you at our first session. I thought I’d get one of those old creepy doctors who like to cop feels during talks. But instead, I walk in,” he grinded his hips once over Namjoon’s lap, “And I see this super hot doctor sitting behind the desk. You were wearing the white shirt that day with the purple tie. I love how broad,” he slipped his hands down his shoulders, “and big you are.” He gave Namjoon’s arms a slight squeeze. “I hope you don’t mind me getting you like this,” he rolled his hips around and Namjoon shut his eyes tightly. He can’t give in. He can’t. “I couldn’t help but see what you had under those clothes. You’re much fitter than I thought you’d be.” 

His short fingers trailed gently down his front, tracing small circles until he reached his navel. The touch sent fire burning through him. It’s as if Jimin knew all the buttons to press. Namjoon coughed once those petit hips rolled on him again. He kept himself from looking at where their bodies met; he might lose himself if he saw his bulge pressing into Jimin’s. “It’s okay, Doctor,” Jimin whispered, “It’s okay to enjoy yourself once in a while. And what better night than Halloween, the Devil’s Night, huh? It’s the perfect time for nice guys to get a little naughty.” He finally pressed himself to Namjoon, resting right on top of his groin. In his ear, Jimin’s hot breath sent shivers down his spine. “How about just for tonight we pretend we’re a couple celebrating Halloween together?” He grinded himself again, his pert cheeks brushing over Namjoon now. “You know...You’re my boyfriend and I wanted to give you a little surprise? Of course, I’d never wear this cheap little thing.” He pecked right under Namjoon’s ear, a total weak spot. “I used to have this lacey one-piece I bought a few years ago. I’d wear that just for you,” he continued kissing down his neck until he reached his collarbone, “And be your pretty little angel.” 

“You’re far an angel, Jimin.” 

He giggled, “I guess I’m not.” Jimin peppered kisses to his jaw, “But I think you’d like that about me. I’m certainly more fun.”

Namjoon twitched,which didn’t go unnoticed. This time Jimin didn’t stop his grinding. Their eyes met and Namjoon almost fell for him. Pretty brown eyes looked back into his lustfully, full of need and desire for him. Never in a million years did he imagine a beauty like Jimin in his lap. He honestly wished Jimin untied him so he could feel every inch of his slim body. Finally, their lips pressed together. Namjoon recognized the candy on Jimin’s lips and slipped his tongue past them. Jimin’s soft moan broke their kiss for a moment, then he swiped his tongue over Namjoon’s lower lip. 

“You had some candy already?” Namjoon teased, desperately wanting to play along. The cops will show up eventually and haul Jimin back to the hospital. He might as well enjoy himself until then. 

“I couldn’t help it,” he smiled. “I love candy. I have loved it since I was a little kid.” He pecked Namjoon a few more times, then said, “But there’s another type of candy I like even more.” He pressed his hips down on Namjoon, who groaned in his mouth, “And I’d love to taste yours. Can I, Joonie? Please?” 

Namjoon didn’t object when Jimin sunk down to his knees in front of him. His breath heaving his chest, muscles tensed from the pressure in his crotch, the anticipation aroused him. Jimin started off kissing down his chest, running his hands over Namjoon’s arms as he did so. The rope left Namjoon enough room for Jimin to easily pull down his boxers. Once he reached the tent between his thighs, he grabbed hold and gingerly stroked through the fabric. The pleasure boiled deep inside Namjoon. He could do nothing but watch Jimin kiss and lick him through the thin boxers; he added to the pleasure squeezing his inner thighs and sliding his hand underneath the shorts. The contact brought out a long groan Namjoon couldn’t keep back. Jimin waited until his cock became rock hard before finally tugging them down. 

“Jimin…”

The younger sucked the leaking tip tenderly at first. He let Namjoon feel his lush lips and warm tongue before sinking himself further down. “You’re so big, Joonie,” he moaned, licking the underside up and down. “I love sucking and licking you every day.” 

“So do I.”

Jimin grinned seeing Namjoon join his pretense. He slipped his mouth all the way to the base; he made sure Namjoon heard his slight gagging when he hit the back. He sucked harder now and held Namjoon in his mouth longer. Jimin pulled away any time he pushed his hips forward; he’ll have all the control tonight and Namjoon willingly gave it to him. His eyes fell on the clock under the television; it shouldn’t take this long. Was it wrong that Namjoon hoped they never came? Jimin broke his thoughts when he started stroking while sucking hard on him. The pressure took him by surprise and his head tilted back. 

“Do you want my candy too?” Jimin asked sweetly, licking the spit and precum dripping off him. “I made it extra special for you.”

“Yes,” he breathed, “Yes, yes, yes.” 

Jimin pulled off his tunic easily. When he moved to take off his wings, Namjoon stopped him. “Keep those on,” he said, “I’ve never fucked an angel before.”

Namjoon admired him for a moment. The hospital left him with little opportunities to work out, but the nurses told him he did so in his bedroom. He’s softness and lean muscles put together. Namjoon wished he could caress and kiss every inch of him. He'd never seen someone so beautiful before. He envied anyone who had Jimin before him; the man inside him wanted to keep Jimin for himself. He wished he could run his hands over the fair skin and kiss each curve.  But, the ropes made that impossible. All Namjoon could do is lean forward so Jimin’s head slipped into his mouth. He instantly rolled and flicked his tongue over the sensitive bulb; he felt it pulse on his tongue. Jimin's soft moans became louder when Namjoon licked in time with each throb almost following the thick vein underneath. The teasing made him push his hips further into his mouth, which Namjoon took easily. Obscene sounds of slurping and gagging filled the space between them as Jimin took advantage of his position. Drool pooled around his lips and dripped from his lips, but Namjoon didn't care. Jimin's moans became a melody he fell in love with. He'd suck the man dry if it meant hearing more. 

Hastily, Jimin withdrew from him and turned around on his lap. “I want you in me, Joonie,” he said breathily. “I want you all the way in me.” 

“Shouldn’t we open you up…” 

Namjoon looked down to see Jimin’s ‘surprise’. A deep red plug sat nestled between his cheeks. He must’ve found it in the bedroom and slipped it inside. He whimpered, feeling Jimin push the toy against his member, so they both felt it. Were he free, he’d be abusing that toy entirely. “Jimin,” he sighed, admiring how his tight ring stretched around the base of the plug, “How long have you been hiding that from me?”

“Since you came home.” Carefully, Jimin pulled the toy out and held it to Namjoon’s mouth. “Open.” 

Namjoon eagerly opened and let Jimin slide the plug inside. Teeth biting down on the plug to keep it from slipping out, he braced himself for the upcoming relief. Jimin prepared himself a bit more to Namjoon’s enjoyment before finally sliding himself down on him. They both groaned feeling the satisfaction coming through them. Jimin worked gradually to a steady pace that tortured Namjoon. His moans muffled by the toy in his mouth, Namjoon once again felt helpless to stop him. He didn’t want him to stop. Jimin kept his thighs open as he backed up onto his cock; Namjoon occasionally pushed back into him just so it never slipped out. The need for release crept up on him the longer Jimin used him. He’d gladly give this to him every night if he could. He no longer bothered looking at the clock or worrying about police. Namjoon needed to fill him. He thought of the dozens of dirty things he can do were he not tied up and gagged. Yet, something about the helplessness aroused him; being able to do nothing while Jimin toyed with him kept his toes curling and fingers gripping the chair’s back. 

His heart skipped a beat when Jimin grabbed a knife from the coffee table. However, rather than slash at Namjoon, he stood and easily cut the ties holding him back. Neither of them had to say anything. Finally free of his bindings and gag, Namjoon lifted Jimin up and put him on the nearby couch. He settled both legs over his shoulders, pushed down on his thighs and reentered him. Namjoon became relentless. Their collective moans became louder at the fast pace. He didn’t care if his thighs and legs burned. 

“Such a dirty angel,” he murmured to Jimin, kissing up and down his neck freely. “Leaving the hospital just for some cock. How desperate you must be if you’re...you’re willing to-to risk it.”

“I just need you, Joonie,” he whined. “I need all of you and I wanted this on my favorite day of the year.”

“Then let me make it worth the trouble.” 

A few more pushes and the ball inside Namjoon exploded in fireworks. His grip on Jimin’s knees was the only thing keeping him grounded. Wave after wave of pleasure came out in each thick stream of cum. He could feel it coating his cock in every thrust. He watched Jimin covering his stomach and chest with his own in awe. Cheeks flushed, lips parted and both halo and hair disheveled, he looked beautiful. Namjoon wanted to savor this moment. The both of them didn’t stop until they’d drained themselves dry, then collapsed on the sofa. 

“Oh Namjoon,” Jimin panted, “that was incredible.” 

“Yes, it was.” 

The shame only started flooding into him when a loud banging came to the door. Namjoon looked around drowsily, but Jimin sprung to his feet immediately. 

“Shit, shit, shit! Fuck, fuck! Where’s my-”

The door burst open, bringing Namjoon to his senses. He watched Jimin hurriedly pull his tunic over his head; he tossed the halo into one of Namjoon’s potted plants, and faced him. “I’m sorry to cut this short, Joonie, but I need to go.” 

“You know they’re going to catch you, Jimin. Just go back with them,” he said.

“Fuck that,” he hissed. “I’m not going back to that prison!” 

“Park Jimin!” a voice said from behind the door, pounding on the wood again. “We know you’re in there! Open up!”

Jimin gave Namjoon one last kiss, then bolted for the back door in the kitchen. He’d gotten right to it when the front door burst open. Police dressed in uniform with bulletproof vests rushed through his living room with guns drawn. Namjoon instantly covered himself with a throw cover, but none of them noticed him except for one. 

“Namjoon, are you alright?” 

Kim Seokjin, lead detective in Jimin’s case, is a clear choice for hunting him down. It’d explain how he knew where to go. 

“I’m-I’m fine,” he breathed, pushing hair from his hot forehead. “He went out the back.” 

“Alright, you…” he noticed Namjoon’s tousled state and looked away, “You stay here.” 

The police went through his house to the backyard. Namjoon put his face in his hands. Shame fell over him. He broke one of the most important rules as a doctor; he also did this with a criminal. This can completely ruin everything. They could revoke his license to practice. The board already suspended it after the Louis incident. Once they heard this, they’d be even more reluctant to give it back. He won’t lie and tell them Jimin took advantage of him. Namjoon took a deep breath as he admitted he wanted it. Another side of him definitely wanted it. His eyes moved to the coffee table where the bowl of candies sat ready to be eaten. He’d never see candy the same way after tonight. 

Never. 

#btsholidaybingo #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #bangtanfairygarden #btsbookclub #joonienetwork #minjoon #bts #bts minjoon #kim namjoon #park jimin #bts rm #bts jimin #bts smut #smut bts #minjoon smut

[artaefact]

choices.

↳ when he’s torn between his head and heart

➳ 1.1k+ words | angst-ish, e2l au, bodyguard!jk, heiress!reader | jeon jungkook x f reader | pg-15 | usage of strong language, and oc pisses jk off

prompt: jeon jungkook | event masterlist

You’re avoiding him. Jungkook thinks bitterly as his gaze scans through the crowd dressed to the nines with masks adorning their faces.

Just a few hours ago, you insisted on arriving at the ball separately from him, your bodyguard. He protested, of course. Hell, he even insisted that he shouldn’t let you out of his sight, which is literally his duty as a bodyguard. And that’s when hell rained down on him. You had thrown the meanest and coldest stare at him and dismissed him, informing that you’ll have another bodyguard to escort you to the ball.

Flabbergasted, Jungkook is left to his own devices. He isn’t exactly fired per se. He is just dismissed from his position of guarding you personally. Which means no more following you around the shopping malls you frequented, no more watching your meetings with your friends in boisterous nightclubs, and no more ice cream hangouts — well, dates, you used to call them even when they were against his will (he finally complied begrudgingly once he realised arguing with you is a lost cause).

He wrecks his own mind as he looks down from the mezzanine of the ballroom with the other bodyguards.

Shouldn’t he be relieved that he is no longer required to tend to your peculiar needs? Like bringing your pumpkin spice latte and it should be exactly hundred fifty degrees with low-fat milk and drizzled with a certain amount of caramel and—

Jungkook sighs harshly, earning a surprised glance from his fellow bodyguard friend beside him. But he didn’t care, no, not when his eyes zeroed in on the woman standing on top of the staircase in an black-to-wine red ombre dress. The colour shouldn’t attract much attention, really. But only a fool would dare to deny that her presence commands, at least nearly, the entire room’s attention.

And that’s when he thought of you. Wait, he knows it’s you, despite the midnight mask that covers most of your features, Jungkook is already familiar with your slink movements as you climb down the stairs.

His gaze never once strays away from you. However, when someone approaches you, he stiffens.

“Oh, that’s the new bodyguard,” his friend — Yugyeom — murmurs. Jungkook nearly demands more answers on who is competent enough to replace his position in such a short period of time. But alas, he’s on-duty. So, with clenched jaws, he sucks it up and opts to keep an eye on you from afar, just as he was ordered.

Yet, as the night grows he barely can keep his temper in check at the sight of the new bodyguard having his arms around your waist most of the night. And judging from your comfortable stance, you even seem to enjoy his presence yourself.

“Who’s the new bodyguard?” The most pressing question slips out of his mouth before he can think twice.

“Curious, huh?” Yugyeom teases. “That’s Jackson Wang. He’s from overseas.”

“How skilled is he?”

“Hmm...” Yugyeom ponders. “No idea. He was just hired like a few days ago. But from the time I got to know him, he seems like quite a cool dude. So, I guess with him now being Y/N’s personal bodyguard, it should be a high level of— why are you glaring at me?”

“You’ve been complimenting this Jackson dude in all the sentences you spouted. Isn’t there dirt or rumour about him?”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Yugyeom raises his hands. “Calm down, man. What’s gotten into you? Aren’t you happy you’re not the Princess’s personal bodyguard anymore?”

“Um.” Jungkook blinks, realisation dawns on him. “Right, but I got to make sure before entrusting my position to someone else. Aren’t I sort-of-like his predecessor? If he fucks up, aren’t I to be blamed too?”

Yugyeom laughs at that. “No, man. You’re not gonna get blamed. In fact, the Princess picked Jackson herself. So, you’re clear.”

And that seems to make Jungkook feel worse.

When did you pick Jackson? How? Where? And most of all, why did you keep it from him?

Question after question bubbles inside him as he grits his teeth.

When it’s time to shift stakeout positions, Jungkook wants to burst into the ballroom to find you and get all his answers. But he stops himself. Mustering all the self control he has left, he patiently watches you — now from the same level, a few meters away.

No matter how long he has stayed by your side, you seem to keep most of your thoughts and actions to yourself. Rendering him practically clueless to your true intentions to which he’s going to get to the bottom of once you break from Jackson’s hold. As if on cue, you whisper something to Jackson, and he nods. Then you head towards the ballroom door and out to the hallway.

Perfect.

And Jungkook starts moving following closely behind you subtly. However, when he steps out of the ballroom, you disappear. Sighing, he continues to walk through the empty hallway of hotel rooms.

You are an enigma, he concludes. But when it’s time to strike, you seem to have a precise calculation. Like now—

In a matter of seconds, one of the hotel room doors bursts open as a hand reaches out and grabs the front of his pristine dress shirt. Instinctively, he whirls and backs the attacker on the wall, pressing his whole forearm just below their chin as the room door shuts.

He blinks and you’re staring up at him, looking at him with those bright eyes of yours, looking innocent through your mask. And Jungkook knows you are far from that.

“What are you doing?” His voice comes out breathless.

“I could say the same to you,” you scoff and he lets go of you.

When he looks around his brows furrow, putting two and two together. “You lured me here.”

You let out a snort, striding past him. “Says the one who followed me in the first place.” You settle on the bed carelessly, lifting your skirt to your knees and taking off your heels. A relieved sigh escapes your lips as you stretch your toes, leaning on your palms behind you.

“Why?” Jungkook demands.

“Why what?” A smirk curling up the corner of your lips, knowing full well that you’re pushing his buttons.

“Why are you doing this? Why…” Why did you ignore him? Why is Jackson replacing him?

Jungkook grunts. “Fucking hell, you’re pissing me off.”

“The exit is that way.” You point at the door. “Feel free to leave.”

But Jungkook is rooted to his spot. His own mind warring inside, torn between losing his head or heart.

“Well?” You lift a challenging brow at him. “Are you going to join me here or leave as usual?”

© artaefact 2020. All rights reserved. Copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform or by any means is NOT permitted.

#bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #btsbookclub #bangtanuniversity #kafenetwork #kdiarynet #kwritersworldnet #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #btsholidaybingo #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts x you #bts x reader #bts smut #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios

[pars-ley]

Sincerely, MINE

Pairing: Idol Taehyung x Female Fan Reader ft Jaebeom

Summary: Date night with Taehyung turns into dinner with some members of Got7 and some flirting from their leader, Jaebeom, to which your idol boyfriend doesn't take too kindly.

Genre: Idol! au / Reaction! au / Established relationship / Smut / One-shot

Rating: 18+ (Nsfw)

Warnings: Dom!Tae / Sub!Reader / Slight exhibitionism / Slight possessiveness / Unprotected sex (wrap it up guys) / Swearing 

Word count: 2400

A/N: Beta read by @papillonsgf @unoriginal-username15432 and @wheresmymoniat you three are amazing and so helpful, thank you! Thank you to @yeojaa​ for making the break line as I am incapable of such simple things.

I’m posting this for the @btsholidaybingo​ One of my squares was ‘Kim Taehyung’. 

If you want jealous Tae featuring a confident and suave Jaebeom then I hope you enjoy this.

“Hey, Taehyung!” You hear someone call, as you turn to see Mark Tuan from GOT7 walking quickly towards the two of you, a large smile stretching his mouth.

“Mark! How are you?” Taehyung asks, with his bright, boxy grin. The one that makes your insides clench.

“Good, man, it’s good to see you.” He replies, patting him on the shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “And who's this?” He turns his attention and his brilliant smile to you.

Taehyung practically beams, as his arm winds tightly around your waist, hugging you against his side. “This is my y/n.” He announces proudly.

“So nice to meet you, y/n. I’ve definitely heard a lot about you.” He takes your hand, his grip soft as he slowly shakes. “Why don’t the two of you join us? Will be good to catch up, Tae and to get to know you better, of course.” He grins wider, flashing his set of perfectly straight teeth.

Please, please, please. You look up at Tae with wide hopeful eyes and he can’t help but nod in agreement. 

Mark leads you over to his table where BamBam gets up to greet you both. He's not shy and he pulls you instantly into a warm embrace, his words sweetly echoing Mark's statement of how nice it is to meet you. 

That’s when you see him. Jaebeom. Long hair swept back behind his ears, an ethereal being if ever you saw one. He’s even more handsome in real life, they all are. 

His calm demeanour precedes him as he sits casually in the corner, giving you a slight wave.

It takes all your power not to squeal and grin like an idiot. 

BamBam indicates for you to slide along the leather seats into the booth, meaning you would be sitting next to him. “JB, this is y/n, Taehyung’s girl.” Bam introduces you, as you hesitantly, and rather awkwardly, shift yourself towards him until your thighs are almost touching. 

“Hello.” He smiles politely and bows his head. Your whole face illuminates like the Las Vegas strip in response but your eyes drop shyly to your hands, placed tensely in your lap.

Everyone takes their seats and you end up neatly sandwiched in between Jaebeom and Bam, with Taehyung sitting opposite you.

“Can I just say, y/n is a huge fan of you guys.” Your boyfriend pipes up.

You feel the blush spread hot across your cheeks as Bam nudges you playfully in your side. “Ah, you like GOT7 more than BTS, huh?”

You laugh, feeling more relaxed by the minute. “BTS are number one for me, of course.” 

“Ok, ok," he waves his hand nonchalantly, "but who’s your GOT7 bias?” Bam wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and you fight back another laugh.

“It’s Jaebeom.” You hear Tae’s voice say the words and you freeze, instantly feeling your face ablaze with embarrassment. Why? Why would he do that to me? The mischievous glint in his eye sparkles with amusement but is soon replaced with an apologetic grimace when you glare at him. 

Bam taps JB’s shoulder. “Of course it is, it’s always my hyung.” He pouts but gives you a wink which sets your mind at ease that he isn't offended.

“Me?” Jaebum points to himself. “I am flattered.” He smiles coolly at you, eyes intense and watching you closely. He seems to be looking right into you, searching for your innermost kept secrets. You have to look away, feeling more bashful than ever under his consuming stare.

You all discuss what food and drink to get before Taehyung and Mark go up to order. 

Leaning back in your chair feeling a little awkward and shy, when you feel Jaebeom put his arm along the back of your headrest. He turns his body towards you, leg up on the seat. “So, have you ever been to one of our shows?” He asks, raising a perfectly arched brow, his intense gaze burning right into you once again. 

Suddenly, he doesn’t seem as reserved as you initially thought, confidence rolling off him in waves.

You shake your head. “Not yet. Hopefully soon.”

“Seriously, just let one of us know when you want to come, we’ll get you tickets and some good seats. You can even come backstage after, if you’d like and hangout.” He shrugs, as if he hadn't just offered you the chance of a lifetime.

Yes, please! Your mouth almost falls open. “T-that would be amazing! Thank you.”

A satisfied smile spreads across his mouth, pulling his lips into a beautiful curve. You’re unsure as to whether he is flirting with you or you are simply misinterpreting his kindness. 

“How long have you been with Taehyung?” He questions.

“About 8 months, now.” 

He nods slowly. “Still in the honeymoon stage then?”

You frown, not understanding the implication. “I’m sorry?”

He waves off the question. “Are you guys serious?”

Your mouth opens then closes, slightly gobsmacked at the line of questioning. "Yes."

"That's a shame." He winks at you. A movement so simple, but he makes it look so sexy and leaves your heart pounding in your ears at the implication.

As much as you would never cheat on Taehyung and are more than happy with him, this exchange has given you quite an ego boost.

Before you can even respond, Taehyung and Mark are back and you feel Jaebeom slowly remove his arm from behind you.

Thank god. You smile at Taehyung, feeling somewhat relieved he’s back, he returns it but it doesn't reach his eyes. His eyes flicker to Jaebeom and his jaw tenses’. Looks like this is going to be a fun conversation later.

As you’re saying your goodbyes, being pulled into a tight hug from Mark and then Bam, you feel the nerves spread through you like wildfire when it’s your turn to face Jaebeom. 

He takes your hand, opting out of the friendly hug, to which you are somewhat relieved about. Only to bring your hand up to his mouth and gently press his lips to your fingertips, following it with a smirk as he watches your eyes widen in panic. A thrill runs through you at the feel of his lips on your skin but it’s pushed quickly away and replaced with alarm and anxiety.

What is he doing!?

Your heart pounds frantically in your chest, attacking your ribcage with brute force. Before meeting Taehyung, I would have yearned to have this kind of attention from Jaebeom, I would have jumped at the chance...quite literally. But, since Taehyung, there isn’t anyone else that could give me what he already does. 

Your heart thrums wildly but not from want...from trepidation. Feeling Taehyung's burning gaze on the two of you makes your stomach churn. 

Releasing your hand and stepping past you, he leans in to your ear and whispers, "It's been a pleasure to meet you.” 

You gulp, feeling uncomfortable now at the exchange, no longer seeming like harmless flirting and more like a show just for Taehyung.

He leaves without so much as a backward glance. 

The other two wave, looking slightly apologetic, leaving you and Tae alone. 

A long, silent car journey home. The unease growing in the pit of your stomach. 

As soon as the door to your apartment is shut, Tae turns to face you. “Enjoy yourself tonight?” His accusatory tone makes you frown, your annoyance alight in your chest, fire running through every vein.

“What are you talking about?” You slam your keys on the counter. 

He scoffs. “Don’t give me that, I bet you were loving having your bias all over you like that.” 

“At first, of course it was flattering, sure, but if you were actually paying attention to me, then you would have seen how uncomfortable I felt. It must have been written all over my face.” 

He stops for a moment, clearly thinking back.

“Let me guess, you were too busy watching Jaebeom to notice?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

He looks down, away from you and walks over to the floor-to-ceiling window, staring down at the bustling streets below.

His reflection on the glass illuminates with the dark night sky as a backdrop.

Sighing, you close the distance between you and wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face in his broad back. You can feel the tension rolling off him in waves, all his muscles tense under your touch.

“Watching him with you…” He starts, then lets out a deep breath. “I was trying so hard to hold it in. I didn’t know what to do. All I could do was watch, while it was like he wanted to claim you right in front of me.” His voice wobbles and his body shakes.

“Hey, hey, hey,” You step in front of him and pull his face down to look at you. “No one was making any claim on me. I’m yours, utterly, completely, hopelessly yours. No one else would stand a chance.”

You see the corner of his mouth twitch into a tiny smile. “Even your bias.”

“Even my bias.” You agree. "Although, I gotta say...I think Bam might have stolen that title.”

His mouth pulls up at the side in a smile, eyes still trained on the floor but relief relaxing his features.

You lift yourself onto your tiptoes and touch your lips to his. “You weren't worried, were you?” 

He looks up, his stare fierce as he catches your teasing tone. “No.” He responds, taking a step towards you, causing you to take one back. 

“Are you sure? It seemed like you were.” You continue, knowing exactly how to press the right buttons.

“Why would I be worried?” He takes another step, frowning and pressing your back up against the cold, hard glass of the window, his body flush to yours. “You’re mine.” He almost growls.

Your body responds to his domineering demeanour, a shiver vibrating through you, your underwear already slick to you. 

He grabs your hands and pins them, by the wrists, above your head. “Say it.” He commands.

“I’m yours.” You whisper, your legs weak with anticipation. 

You feel his hand travel up your skirt, lightly caressing your thigh, until he reaches your hot, throbbing crotch. 

He groans when he feels the wet patch already soaking through the lace. “You want me?”

You nod.

“How do you want me? Tell me what you want.” He rubs light circles on your concealed clit.

You moan from the feeling of him touching you but also of him not touching you enough. “Fuck me.” You look up at him, your innocent eyes meeting his. “Fuck me against this window."

You see the heat flash in his eyes and he roughly pulls your panties down and starts unbuckling his belt. His hand comes back to your clit, running his fingers along your wet folds and feeling your entrance. 

“I’m gonna stretch you open, baby.” He whispers, licking your arousal off his fingers. 

You clench your legs together at the sight, desperate for some relief.

He pulls out his generous erection, his jeans still up but open. 

You bite your lip as you look at him and his perfect dick that’s about to ruin you.

He grabs your leg and hooks it over his arm, then lines himself against your entryway. Slowly he pushes himself in and you can’t keep quiet as you feel yourself stretch over him, swallowing him inside you, greedily.

The noise he makes once he’s levelled in you is so sinful it has you clenching around him. 

“You feel so good.” He says, eyes never leaving yours as he starts to move pushing your buttocks against the cold glass of the window.

His hand comes up to your face, cupping your jaw possessively and keeping you focused on him. He thrusts into you, slow and hard but controlled. He knows what you like and he’s showing you exactly that. 

“Who does this pussy belong to?” He asks, eyes trained on your mouth.

You moan, “You, Taehyung.”

“Who can make you this wet?” He thrusts into you harder, hitting that perfect place each time.

“You, just you!” You clasp his broad shoulders, as you feel your orgasm building, your core tight and ready to spring.

“Can anyone else make you feel this good?” He pants.

Your sweet release is so close but you can’t give into it, not until he tells you. “No one.” You whisper, hardly able to focus on anything but the pressure of your impending orgasm. 

Your mind swirls, with his words, his movements and the idea that people in the buildings across from you could see your intimate tangle unfold, it all makes your core ache with pure desperation and raw lust. 

“Would JB be able to make you this wet?” He asks through gritted teeth.

You shake your head, eyes rolling from the thrill. His hard dick moves with such lavish purposely, your body shudders against him.  

“Say it.” He barks, breathing hard and fast. 

He must be close, please let him be close, I can’t hold off for much longer.

“N-no, he wouldn’t!” You call out. “God, Taehyung, please.”

“What, baby?”

“Please, let me cum.” You beg, eyes pleading frantic and fierce.

He smirks, then presses his lips against yours, so tender and soft in comparison to the painful grip on your wrists he still has. 

Oh my god, I’m gonna cum, it all feels too good.

“Cum for me.” He whispers, sending new chills cascading down your spine. He thrusts hard into you one more time as you fall apart, everything unravelling as your walls clench around him, milking him to orgasm too. His warm seed spilling into you, filling you completely.

Your mind and body are full of him as you’re unable to focus on anything but the sounds of his pleasure and the bliss he’s giving you. You don’t want it to end. 

“Fuck, y/n.” He grinds into you, the feeling prolonging the spasms of pleasure. 

As the pulses of your climax die down, he releases your leg and pulls you away from the window but still has you pressed firmly against him. 

“No one else.” You reutter to him as his forehead meets yours tenderly.

Smirking, he raises an eyebrow. “Oh baby, we’re not done yet. I’m gonna have you calling my name all night, to make sure you know exactly who you belong to.” 

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[hobeemin]

Kiss Me at Midnight

🎉 Genre: Fluff, Romance, Smut, f2l, Humor, PWP

🎉Pairing: Min Yoongi x (f) OC feat. ot7 

🎉 Rating: 18+

🎉Warning(s): self-consciousness, insecurities, shyness, kissing, alcohol, sexual humor, teasing, consent, fingering, foreplay,  oral (female receiving), protected sex, penetrative sex, light dirty talk, cuddles, aftercare

🎉 Word Count: 2.2k

🎉 Credits and Shout outs:  

Banner resources found here

Thank you to @nottodayjjk​​ for reading this lil gem :3 love ya and happy holidays!! 💜💜

@agustdsbbygirl​ sorry this is a little late but here you are! I hope you enjoy it😊 💜

🎉 A/N: for the BTS Halloween-Holiday Bingo @btsholidaybingo​

Bingo Square: New Year’s Eve

The champagne bottle cork popped into the air as the group cheered loudly. Jimin beamed as he held the bottle and began to pour the bubbly liquid into awaiting champagne flutes. Yoongi grabbed two, giving Jimin a quick thanks, and walked over to his date. She was talking with Namjoon and his girlfriend, eyes sparkling as she laughed. Yoongi stepped forward, clearing his throat, and she turned with a giant smile. 

“Thank you, Yoongi.” She took the champagne flute and sipped it slowly.

Namjoon nodded in approval pointing his thumb towards her. “She’s great, Hyung. How were you able to get this lucky?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, giving Namjoon a light shove. “Shut up,” he turned to her with a smile. “Is the drink alright, Londyn?”

She nodded, taking another sip. “It tastes great.”

A blush tinted Yoongi’s cheeks, making Namjoon snort. Seeing his friend all bashful in front of a woman was surprising. He must like her a lot. 

“Alright!” Hoseok came into the living room, drink in hand, cheeks already rosy from the alcohol. “Let’s get this New year’s Eve party underway!” He pointed to everyone with a wide grin. “Grab a drink or two and sit down.”

Everyone clamored onto the couches and chairs around the room. Yoongi found a place for Londyn and him to sit on the loveseat, getting comfortable. Hoseok and Jimin stood holding up their glasses.

“We’re happy we all could be together on this night. Yes, our schedules are crazy, but we are a family, and we love each and every one of you.”

A chorus of ‘awws’ filled the room, making Jimin and Hoseok beam happily. Jimin looked over at Londyn and winked. “Welcome to our crazy little tribe.”

She laughed, raising her glass. “Thank you.”

Hoseok downed his champagne with a sigh and looked around the room. “Alright, before the clock strikes midnight, I think we should play a game.”

Jungkook looked from his phone with his brows furrowed. “Seriously, Hyung? A game?”

Jimin reached over and pinched his cheek. “Yes, little Kookie, a game.”

Namjoon grunted as he sat up. “What sort of game?”

Hoseok shrugged nonchalantly. “Easy. Never have I ever.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Anything but that.”

Taehyung wrapped up in his girlfriend, looked up and grimaced. “I’d rather streak outside.”

Jimin rolled his eyes. “Trust me; I’d rather not see it. C’mon, this will be fun. What’s that saying? Should auld acquaintances be forgot and never brought to mind?”

Jin entered with a tray of assorted meats and cheese, chuckling. “As juvenile as it is, I don't see why we can’t have a little fun.”

“Exactly! Let’s shed all those things and bring in the new year with a bang,” Hoseok exclaimed excitedly.

Yoongi gave Londyn an apologetic look and squeezed her knee gently. “You’re definitely in for a treat.”

So far, the game was going well. After countless refills, the room buzzed with drunkenness. Currently, Jimin –no shocker– and Taehyung had the most fingers gone. 

It was back to Jimin’s turn, and he was ready to pull the punches. He smirked, giving Londyn a mischievous look. Out of all the other members, he knew her the best. He swayed a little from the alcohol giving a small hiccup. 

“Alright...um...never have I ever...faked an orgasm.”

Everyone’s eyes darted around the room. Londyn shot Jimin a look before dropping one finger. Yoongi’s jaw dropped as he stared at her. 

“Londyn?”

Her cheeks grew hot as she waved her hand across her face. “I-I...listen, it’s not a big deal.”

Jungkook’s eyes grew big as he leaned in, hand on his chin. “This is gonna be good. Spill it, Noona.”

Did it get hot in here all of a sudden? Londyn felt like she was under interrogation. Ten pairs of eyes held their gaze on her. She tried to shrug it off, looking anywhere but at anyone, Yoongi included. 

“I...well, I’ve never had an orgasm before,” she mumbled.

You could almost hear a pin drop. Londyn stood, placing her glass on the table. “Excuse me,” she murmured, running into the restroom. Hoseok nudged Yoongi with a frown. “Go check on her.”

Yoongi stood and walked into one of the bedrooms and knocked on the ensuite gently.

“Londyn?”

He could hear rustling and the toilet flushing followed by the sink running. A second later, she opened the door wide enough for him to see her face. His expression softened upon seeing her eyes slightly red.

“Wanna talk about it?”

She shook her head, looking down. Yoongi put his hand against the door and leaned in. “You plan to stay in the bathroom the rest of the night?”

“I’m just embarrassed.”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he reasoned.

“I'm in my twenties and never had a real orgasm, Yoongi.”

He pursed his lips in thought, “Okay, but–”

Londyn gave a tearful sniff as her eyes welled up. “How are we gonna work if I’m broken?”

Yoongi gave a soft chuckle lifting her chin to look at him. “Babe, you’re not broken.” He pushed the door open wider and stepped inside, closing it behind them. “I think you just haven’t found the right partner yet.”

Londyn’s tears stopped as she looked up at Yoongi curiously. “W-What do you mean?”

He smirked, those dark eyes boring into hers with smoldering lust, and caged her against the sink. “What I mean,” he leaned in and nuzzled against her cheek, “is that I want to offer myself to you. I want to make you feel good, make you shake under me.” He kissed the small spot behind her ear, making her legs wobble. “Can I do that, Londyn, make you feel good? Show you what you’ve been missing?”

She felt breathless. Her hands gripped the front of his jacket to keep her steady. In one swoop, Yoongi picked her up and set her on the sink counter. Luckily the ensuite contained a countertop. He pushed the products off to the side as he gripped her waist. His eyes darted down to her lips, biting his teasingly. 

“I’ve wanted to kiss you all night.”

Londyn felt her walls clench at his words, letting out a mewl. “P-Please do.”

Yoongi gripped the back of her head and brought her lips down on his, moaning at how she felt against him. It was frantic, hungry, passionate. All the emotions he felt, bubbled to the surface. His fingers dug into her legs, wrenching them apart.

“I’ve wanted you for such a long time,” he confessed shyly. Londyn blushed, avoiding his gaze. “Yoongi, you’re just nice.”

His fingers, ones she’d always admired, stroked the heated skin of her inner thigh  languidly. “Trust me; this is more than being a nice babe.” His stare sharpened while fingering the material of her dress. “But I’m patient. I won’t do anything you don’t feel comfortable with.”

Londyn leaned forward, cupping his face, and gave him a chaste kiss. “I-I want you, Yoongi.”

His eyes darkened, and he yanked her dress up, revealing her tempting lingerie. The dark lace accentuated her curves and dips. Pupils blown, he forced himself to stare back up at her face. “I need you to be clear with me. Green if you want it, yellow if I need to slow down, and red to stop completely.”

She nodded in understanding. Yoongi tapped her leg lightly. “I need words, darling.”

“G-Green,” she answered softly. 

Yoongi bowed his head and traced her thighs lightly with his hands before making his way to her underwear. Though he wanted to rip them off, he used his self-control to tug them down to her ankles. 

“A-Are my shoes going to be a problem?”

By now, he’d bent down to eye level. His eyes glanced at the stiletto pumps adorned on her feet. He smirked, touching the leather with a groan. “Not at all. I want you to keep them on.”

Londyn let out a moan at his words as Yoongi gazed upon her sex, already slick with arousal. With some hesitation, he leaned forward and gave a cautious lick against her lips. Londyn whimpered at the sensation, trying to squirm. But Yoongi’s hands gripped her thighs to keep her still. After finding her clit, he swirled it in his mouth, humming softly against it, causing the young woman to vibrate on the counter. Londyn could see stars in her vision; someone was taking the time to make her feel good. Her eyes closed as she threw her head back against the mirror trying to stay coherent, but only sounds of whimpers and moans filled the ensuite. She could only think about Yoongi and his mouth working wonders on her.

The sensation grew gradually, making her want it more. What was this feeling in the pit of her stomach? Yoongi sensed it as he noticed her hips rotating against him. He pulled away, licking his lips. Londyn’s eyes popped open to stare at him.

“W-Why you’d stop?”

Yoongi smirked as he got off his knees and pulled her into a kiss. “I’m making this memorable for you, Londyn.” 

He took one finger and placed it at her entrance. “Need to make sure you can take me.”

She groaned, feeling his digit slip past her folds and beginning to pump slowly. Londyn gripped his shoulders, moving his jacket down, and bit into his shoulder. Yoongi grunted as the pain made way for pleasure, loving her reaction to him.

“Another finger?”

“Y-Yes. Please.”

Another slipped past, massaging her walls. Yoongi took his time, wanting her to feel just as good as she was making him. Yoongi loved the expressions she made. It was innocent but filled with want and lust. He could feel her muscles clenching around his fingers, knowing she was close. He bent forward, kissing along her neck and jaw.

“Are you gonna cum for me, babe?”

“U-Uh, huh,” she whispered, rutting against his fingers.

“You’ve wanted this for so long?”

“Y-Yoongi, please. I want to cum so bad. Please,” she pleaded, eyes shut tight, teeth clenching. She was almost there. It seemed like the feeling was climbing but never falling. 

“Yoongi...Yoongi...I-I think...I–”

As quickly as the feeling came, it disappeared. Londyn cried out in frustration as Yoongi removed his fingers. He wagged them at her before slipping them in his mouth to taste. “Not yet.”

Londyn felt like she was going to throw a tantrum. “S-Stop teasing me!”

Yoongi reached out and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t you trust me?”

Londyn pouted but nodded at him. “I-I do, but–”

“No buts. Give me a color,” Yoongi instructed.

“Green,” she answered.

Yoongi unbuckled his pants, the belt clinking as it fell on the counter. Londyn let out a needy whine at the sound. For some reason, it made her even more aroused. Yoongi, always the one to notice specific cues, smirked darkly. 

“Ah, you like the sound of the belt. Next time we’ll try that,” he teased, dragging his pants and boxer briefs down just enough to past the swell of his ass. He yanked open one of the drawers on the counter and drew out a condom wrapper. He took no time ripping it open and rolling it onto his length. Still erect and red from hardly any attention, the precum dribbled from the tip. Yoongi panted as he lined himself against her pussy. He brought his lips to hers in a searing kiss, tasting her tongue as the light notes of champagne lingered. 

“Color.”

“Damn it...green. Green!”

Yoongi’s hips pistoned forward, filling her up all at once. It knocked the wind out of her as they both let out groans. They remained still for a few minutes until Londyn lifted her head from Yoongi’s shoulder.

“Yoongi, please.”

His thrusts started slow, so she’d feel every inch of him massage her walls. His brows furrowed in concentration. Never had he felt this way before. She was something special, something he wanted to cherish for as long as breath filled his body. He coaxed her with soft words, rubbing her back as they moved in their own rhythm. Londyn felt alive in his embrace. Yoongi knew he was close but wanted to see Londyn fall apart first. He suckled on the spot on her neck, rutting against her.

“Londyn, just let go. It’s alright. I’m here.”

It was as if a wave crashed over her at once. At first, no sound formed through her opened mouth until the adrenaline came, making her cry out into Yoongi’s awaiting mouth. He devoured her moans and whimpers as he followed suit, her name on his lips.

Breathing hard and motionless, Yoongi rested his chin on her shoulder. Londyn stroked the back of his neck and scalp. From the living room, they could hear loud shouts and cheers through the walls.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Yoongi lifted his head, meeting her eyes, and they let out a laugh. Londyn kissed Yoongi’s temple softly and nuzzled against him.

“What a way to bring in the new year.”

He kissed her slowly, a smile on his face. “Probably the best yet.”

“Happy New Year, Yoongi.”

“Happy New Year, Londyn.”

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