Tumgir
#heartsforbts
bangtanger · 2 days ago
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run bts ep 131
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I’m a hoe for brows pt. 1/?
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venusiangguk · 5 months ago
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the art of doubting | jjk (m)
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>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc
>>genre: friends with benefits, smut, a lil bit of fluff, angst
>>word count: 17k -.-
>>warnings: dom jk, sub oc, age gap, dilf jk stuff: asking for permission, saying thank you, sexual tension, gross domestic flirting 🙄, push up kisses, orgasms, oc getting overwhelmed bc jock is too gewd <3, oral (m), rimming !!, mirror sex, one (1) spank, jreampie <3, tummy bulging (kinda? he presses on her tum to feel it?), praise, dirty talk, encouragement, showering together, kisses 😚, ex wife has arrived, mentions of divorce, a lil bit of sad talk about nari :(, nari is two now!!, misunderstandings, arguments, jk lowkey got some issues he needs to work thru lol, he thinks in extremes, oc is in love </3, a very drastic 180 occurs
>>notes: ex wife arrives and literally makes everything explode lmao
this is part of my dilf jk series that can be found on my masterlist
>>summary: seeds of doubt are planted and unfortunately they grow faster than love. things with jk fall apart.
Soft grunting groans filter through the air as you slowly make your way down the stairs to the lower floor. Not really a basement, more of an indoor workout cave.
Jeongguk’s shirtless on the bench, pulling weighted arms down on the machine, the muscles in his back rippling and straining with every pull down. He sees you in the mirror as soon as you walk in, his eyes lighting up and a small winded laugh puffs from his chest.
“Hey— hang on… almost— done…”
You shift on your feet a little, watching him through the reflection. The sight you see is a little too obscene to just be a work out, you feel like. He’s not sweaty yet, probably just started, but his face is a little red from the excretion, and his lats are on display as he does the repetitive workout over and over with clenched teeth and breathy grunts until his body gives out. He catches his breath for a moment, shakes his arms out.
“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked,” you say, tiptoeing over to him and stepping over the plastic baby weight on the mat. “Also why do you do so many at once… looks miserable.”
Jeongguk laughs softly, looks up at you with his doe-eyes when you’re close enough to rest a hand on his shoulder. He’s warm to the touch.
“I usually don’t but I’m the only one here, and I knew it was you coming. Also my phone is charging upstairs so if you texted when you got here like normally, I would not have known.” he explains. “I tend to focus more on longer sets with lighter weights, than shorter sets with heavier weights because it helps keep muscles lean… I’m not trying to bulk up right now.”
You tell him that that makes sense even though you really have no clue. Just know that whatever he does to stay fit works. “Nari at her mom’s?” you ask.
He nods, standing up to go over to the pull up bar on the side of the machine. Wiping his hands on the tiny workout shorts he’s wearing, he jumps a little, and then wiggles his fingers on the bar to get a good grip. “All yours till Friday,” he says, cutely.
Rolling your eyes playfully, you correct him. “Till tomorrow afternoon. I have work… might get a raise soon.”
You wander around a little as Jeongguk goes on about how you should already be getting paid more considering you have a college degree, but you tune him out, knowing he’s trying to be on your side and make you feel better. A marketing degree won't get you far in a grocery aisle, and you both know that, but it’s sweet of him to try.
Instead, you opt to take in your surroundings. You’ve been all around his house of course, but you’ve not spent much time in the workout dungeon.
It’s fully equipped, and fully mirrored, with the flooring being that of wrestling mats to cushion dropped weights or baby stumbles.
On one side of the room there’s an elliptical, a treadmill, a rowing machine, a bench press, basically one of everything that you would normally see in a gym. But on the other side, blocked off by a baby safety gate, is a mini little workout zone filled with mini weights, those foam blocks that you normally find in a child’s gymnastics zone, and a little dance bar along the mirrored wall.
You smile, thinking about Nari holding onto the bar and doing that funny little squatting move of hers. “Are you going to put her in dance?”
He looks at you through the mirror, no longer doing pull ups, but just watching it seems. Seated on one of the benches with a water bottle in his hand, resting between his spread legs. “Ballet I think,” he says, “Me and her mom were talking about it. She thinks it’ll be good for Nari’s coordination…” He gives you a humorously exasperated look, “I just think she’ll look cute in a tutu. Though I suppose coordination would be helpful… she’s a bit clumsy.”
“She is only 2,” you point out, walking over to his side of the room again. “Was the party fun?”
It was on Saturday, just a few days ago. Jeongguk said it was fairy themed much like most of the baby’s things. You saw the pictures that he sent you, Nari adorned in a pair of tiny pink wings, her cake in the shape of a mushroom. The kids all got tiny bottles of ‘pixie dust’ to play with, shimmery bubbles floating through the air.
There was a woman in one of the pictures, blowing a bubble into Nari’s delighted face, her own smile matching that of the baby. She obviously wasn’t the focus of the photo, and you doubt that Jeongguk even realized when he sent it. But you already knew who the woman was anyway. The pictures around Jeongguk’s house were enough to tell you, even if he never explicitly stated it. And you know it makes sense and that it’s normal for her to be there, with Jeongguk at their daughter's birthday, but something settled into the pit of your belly when you looked at that picture. You haven’t been able to shake it yet.
Jeongguk’s voice brings you back. “Yeah it was fun, you got the pictures right?” He seems excited. You laugh a little, reminding that yes, you did see. You responded to them after all. He grins sheepishly as he goes to another machine, “Don’t be sassy, or I’ll eat the piece of cake we saved you.”
His sentence warms your heart. The fact that he was thinking about you, keeping you in mind. Reminds you of the bittersweet message you received from him on Saturday while he was at the party.
Wish you could have come
It took some effort, and you’ve done your best to not think about the fact that you could have, if he had asked you to. Saturday was your day off.
“What flavor is it?”
“Funfetti, obviously.” Jeongguk rolls his eyes, grunts quietly as he does another rep.
“Obviously,” you mime, with a small chuckle.
Conversation flows smoothly, just like always, everything seamless between you both. While most people wouldn’t probably get annoyed at someone hovering, Jeongguk seems happy to be near you, glad for the company. You sit beside him as he gets to the ground for some push ups.
He gets about three in before you’re laying flat on your back, boredom making a thought pop into your head.
“Do them over me.”
Jeongguk falters mid-way up, glancing at you with a suspicious look. “Why?”
“I wanna help,” you reason.
“Not sure being on top of you will be helpful,” he murmurs, but appeases you nonetheless, side walking on his hands and the balls of his feet until he’s over you.
You both give each other closed lip smiles as you try not to laugh. Jeongguk lowers himself, and you sneakily place a sweet kiss on his cheek.
“I knew you didn’t want to be helpful,” he says, his voice laced with faux annoyance. He does another one and receives another kiss. “You want to be distracting.”
“I’m not being distracting, I’m providing incentive.”
“I can’t even go all the way down, your tits are in the way.”
“You are so ungrateful.”
He smiles with his eyes as he goes down again, his nose brushing yours as he nuzzles into your cheek briefly. “And how are you providing incentive?”
You hum at the feel of his warm breath on your ear. “The longer you hold your plank, the longer you get to kiss me.”
“Who says I wanna kiss you?” he teases, voice soft as a feather as he does another push up.
“You always want to kiss me,” you tell him, just as quiet, tension radiating off of you as you readjust yourself, your legs opening so that the next time he drops down, he’s not just over you, but between your thighs as well. “And you haven’t yet…” you remind him as you drag your acrylics over his bare back, smiling at the way he shudders and at the way his arms buckle.
He grins, looking at you like you’re unbelievable, yet everything he wants right now. “Between you and Nari, I can never get anything done.”
You hum, “I just think you need to reevaluate your priorities, maybe.”
“And what do you think my priorities should be, __?” he whispers, eyes searching your face, lingering on your lips, a fond look coloring his features.
“Well, right now,” you start, looping your arms around his neck, “I think you should really focus on that plank, and on that kiss you’re dying to give me.”
Your teeth click before your lips lock because of how much you both are smiling.
But once lips lock, it doesn’t take much for Jeongguk to collapse onto you. Doesn’t even try to hold the plank, instead just melding his body to yours, the inside of your legs clamping around his waist. He goes from having his hands flat on the mat to bracing himself on his forearms, his knees hitting the mat between your legs. You use some of your weight to bring him closer, the slowly swelling front of his work out shorts pressing into the crotch of your leggings.
You work your hips, rolling them slowly up into him, in time with the slow, molten kisses he licks into your mouth.
Jeongguk’s always easy for you, but today he seems to be fighting himself, playfully fighting how bad he wants you. It’s the principle of the thing. To prove a point. The point being that you’re distracting, his weakness. His hips rolling into yours, only to pull back. He lips pressing hard against yours, only to pull back. Just for him to do it over again, just for him to give in like you both know he wants to and will. It's after a particularly hard rut against you that he peels his lips from yours, panting softly, how worked up he is so apparent in the way he can’t stop his hips.
“You’re going to kill me,” he whispers, his nose brushing against your cheek before he sinks his teeth into the apple of it like he just can’t help it, can’t get enough of you.
Your manicured hands cup his cheeks, as you nod and guide him back into a wet kiss. “Want you in my mouth,” you moan against his lips.
Jeongguk pulls back with a light blush on his cheeks. “Are you sure? I was just working out–”
A kiss cuts him off as you slowly start to sit up, him going with you. “Barely broke a sweat, and I don’t care,” you tell him, hands gripping at the elastic of his waistband, “just want you.”
Jeongguk laughs softly, grabs your eager hands, maneuvering to his feet and pulling you with him. It’s then that he strips you of your shirt, your bra. His hands come to cup your bare tits, rolling them in his palms as he brings his lips back to you, all while he toes off his shoes, as well as his socks with a little difficulty and stumbling, but not without sweet laughter filtering in through the kisses.
He makes his way down as he pushes your pants down, his lips latching to a nipple, making you mewl under the light flicks and the soft sucks, hands coming to his hair to keep your balance as you rid yourself from the stretchy material. His hair gets pulled when you’re free, and he’s biting his lip at the tugging when he blinks his eyes open to look at you again.
“Sit on the bench,” you tell him, hand slipping from his locks, and down to his flushed chest. You press lightly, backing him up to the benchpress machine that’s not too far behind him.
The bench is propped up, a reclined sitting position under the secured bar above, resembling more of a chair than the typical flat board of most bench presses.
He gingerly sits down, keeps his eyes on you the whole time, watching as you lower yourself to your knees, settling between his open ones. His cock is hard and pink, up and laying flat on his lower tummy. It pulses when you place your hand on his thighs, long nails running down.
You both smile a little because its funny in a stupid way, but your pussy pulses too, getting slick between you legs at the way Jeongguk responds to you. How eager he is for you, how the mere feel of your hands on his thighs is enough to make him throb in anticipation of what else is going to come, of how good you’re going to make him feel.
“Wanna make you feel good,” you say quietly. Your gaze flicking between his face and the flushed, shiny head of his cock in your hand.
He bites his lip when you slowly start to work your hand on him, his foreskin sliding over the wet tip of his cock, and when you rub the pad of your thumb on the under part of the head, you watch as his head tilts back, his eyes slipping shut, and his mouth exhaling a soft sigh. You squeeze your thighs together at the sight. Jeongguk is so responsive, pliant as he settles into the bench, hot and heavy in your hand.
“Put your mouth on it,” Jeongguk requests, eyes lazily shut.
When you oblige, Jeongguk sucks in a sharp breath, his back arching a little off of the bench behind him, his hips pulling back like the feel of your lips suckling on him is too much, too good.
You pull off with a little pop, holding his cock close smiling against his length. “Why are you trying to get away from me?”
Jeongguk gives you a crooked grin, looking down his nose at you with hazy eyes. “Keep going,” he says softly.
Humming against his length you begin to place heavy, wet kisses down his cock all the way to his balls. The kind where your tongue licks him before your lips suction softly. Then you lick all the way back up with the flat of your tongue, your lips wrapping around him, your head bobbing a few shallow times. Jeongguk keeps breathing those sweet, soft moans. So relaxed and relishing in the way you suck him off. He’s not pulling away anymore, instead trying to keep from bucking into your mouth, you can tell by the way his lower belly tenses.
When you go down a little farther, sucking his balls into your mouth, you moan at the way he whines, at the way his legs subconsciously open wider as you alternate between lapping at him, and teasing him with light circles from the tip of your tongue. He breathes praise, telling you how good it feels. It makes you want to make him feel even better.
His legs spreading wide for you gives you the idea to trail a little farther down, stray off the path of your usual blowjobs. You start with your fingers, something he’s used to and loves. Massaging that spot behind his balls with deliberate little pets, you moan softly when he pulls his legs back just slightly, barely lifting his feet off the ground so you can touch him better.
His brows are pinched, and his mouth is open in a silent moan, his expression one of pleasure and arousal as he brings his hand down to his cock. He slowly tugs at himself, watching as you bring your mouth back to his balls. He’s nodding, eager and encouraging, his hand speeding up.
“You’re–,” he moans, his head rolling back along with his eyes, “My baby.”
Laughing a little you pull back, focusing on just massaging him. He seems extra responsive today, his praise and sentences jumbled and hardly coherent.
“Keep licking,” he moans.
You hum, going to appease him but right before you suck his balls into your mouth you pause. He notices, brings his eyes to you with a questioning, needy gaze, his hand still working over his cock.
You place a chaste kiss to his balls and then one a little lower. Jeongguk jolts, and questions you with a gaze, but he doesn't stop you.
In all honesty, you don't know what you’re doing, have no clue why you even want to, but the desire to make Jeongguk feel good and curiosity spurs you on. He likes your fingers, maybe he’ll like your mouth there too.
Your eyes hold a question in them as you gently, wordlessly push his legs back some more, more of him on display than you’ve ever seen before. Jeongguk grows a little red, but his hand hasn’t stopped, and he just pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, watching you as you kiss on the backs of his thighs.
He’s tense, like he’s just waiting for you to do it. With your breath hot on his taint, you look at him once more, and he gives the slightest nod, permission to continue. His eyes are heavy and he licks over his red bitten lips, and when you press another one of your chaste kisses against him, his brows furrow and his mouth parts and he cranes forward, like he wants it so bad, is so eager that he can't contain it.
The first lick over him makes him gasp, and he breathes the most salacious, “Yeah–” as his legs get pulled back even more.
You smile at him with your tongue out, giving tentative licks to that spot he loves. Your hands are on his cheeks and you pull back some, looking at him with a grin.
Jeongguk groans, a laugh coloring it as his head falls back to the bench kind of like he’s a little bashful about being so worked up. His free hand pushes through his hair before rubbing over his face, eyes finally meeting yours again. “You’re so hot down there,” he tells you.
You purr, pressing your thumbs into his cheeks opening him up a little more. A quick wet lick is placed over his hole and he breathes out a harsh sigh, craning his neck so he can look at you, his tummy tensed.
“Is this what you want?” you murmur against him, getting a little more confident, the tip of your tongue flicking over the cinched muscle.
“Yeah, fuck…” he whispers.
The hand he has on his cock squeezes at the base for a second before he makes a ring with his thumb and index finger focusing on the tip of his cock with quick little strokes. The hand he doesn’t have busy pulls his thigh back a bit more.
As your tongue works over him, he chants over and over again, tells you how hot you look, how good your mouth feels, how wants you to keep going. It’s when you point your tongue a little, just barely pressing into his rim that his hand goes to the back of your head.
He holds your face to his ass, pushes you into him as he melts into the chair, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths that lilt up at the end.
“Good girl,” Jeongguk moans, his eyes blinking open hazily as he looks down at you again.
Your eyes smiles at him as you continue to work your tongue, little wet noises willing the air as you eat him out. When he removes his hand, you lick from his hole to his balls, repeating the action a few times, making Jeongguk almost tremble.
“Your dirty girl?” you ask him quietly in response to the praise he just gave you, giving him tiny little kitten licks over his hole.
He gives you a lustdrunk smile, licking over his lips. “Yeah, all mine.”
“What do you want?” you kiss into his taint, eyes big as you look up at him.
“Just a little more,” he whispers, his thumb spreading the precum leaking from his tip.
You get a hold of the hand on his pulled back thighs, guide it back to the back of your head once again. “Take it then,” you tell him, “take more from me.”
Jeongguk lets out a shaky breath, biting his lip as he pushes your mouth back to his hole. “Look so hot licking my ass,” he breathes, barely audible over the wet licks you’re giving him. He kinda shakes your head, his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched as he sucks a breath through his teeth. “Oh my god–”
When you point your tongue and press past the little resistance, Jeongguk’s mouth drops open and his brows arch upwards, and his eyes roll a little before he squeezes them shut, pushing and pulling on your head just barely, making your tongue fuck him.
It's kind of abrupt when he pulls you back by the hair, his legs coming down again. It’s abrupt when he kisses you. Deep, his tongue licking into your mouth like he doesn't care that you were just licking into him, making him pant, making his cock leak. It’s abrupt when he breaks the kiss. He’s still close, breathing you in, giving you one last soft little peck before he leans back again, his demeanor expectant.
Both of his hands are on your head, and he’s guiding you down, taking what he wants from you just like you told him to. His cock is so hard, flushed and angry looking as it stands, just waiting for your mouth.
It's a swift and quick motion when he pushes your head down, the tip hitting the back of your throat almost immediately. He whines softly, and rocks his hips up while pulling you down onto him, glucking noises filling the air as he fills your mouth.
His length and girth are a lot to take, your eyes prickling with tears as he holds your head down, but when you hear him whisper, so desperately, “Love when you choke on my cock,” it’s so worth it.
He sounds so unabashedly fucked out, like your mouth is the best thing he’s ever felt, like it's the only thing he ever wants to feel for the rest of his life. He’s being a little rougher with you, a little more crude with his words like he’s losing himself in you, losing his control. It makes you moan around him, wanton and needy.
His hips start to fuck up into you mouth again, his hands holding your head in place, keeping you from pulling away. He knows you wouldn’t have, always so well behaved, almost obedient in the way that you please him. But, even so, he just likes having his hands on you, likes feeling the way you struggle to take him.
“That’s a good girl…” he groans, soft and focused, his hips snapping up again. “You’re such a good girl…”
He holds you down once more, shakes your head by the hair so that his tip rubs against your throat, and then he’s pulling you up, kissing you filthily again, not even giving you time to properly catch your breath.
“Get against the mirror,” he says against your lips.
The heat from your hands makes the glass under your hands fog up, and the heat from Jeongguk behind you makes you flush, the heaviness of his cock rutting against the swell of your ass as he wastes no time getting into position.
At the first feel of his tip rubbing between your folds, grazing over your clit, you gasp and your arms buckle. Your legs spread naturally, but Jeongguk makes a tutting noise, and rests one palm on the outside of your hips, the other between your shoulder blades applying light pressure.
“Keep them together, but bend a little– yeah, perfect,” he breathes.
He takes a step back, looks at your ass pushed out for him, your puffy pussy peeking out from between your legs with your clit tucked inside. You’re drippy, shiny and smooth, your slick leaking out, making it sound lewd and wet when he pushes inside.
Your head hangs at the first thrust, Jeongguk pushing in slow but with a steady motion, and you exhale a soft puff.
He keeps his hips against your ass, his cock sheathed by your pussy. His hands grabbing and squeezing, roaming over your body while he waits just a bit for you to get used to him inside of you. Then he’s pulling out, just the tip of his cock still tucked inside, before he fucks into you hard and fast. It knocks the breath out of you, makes your hands on the mirror slip a little.
“F-fuck,” you whisper, your head still hanging, eyes squeezed shut as he fills you up.
Jeongguk’s eyes go from watching his cock slide into you, to the mirror. He moans, the contrast of his tattooed arm on your bare back as he rocks his hips into you is so pretty, just like the way that your shoulder blades push out, how your tiny waist feathers out to the swell of your hips. The fatty part of your hips ripples and pillows against him everytime he thrusts, dull slaps echoing with the whiny moans he punches out of you with his cock.
“Look baby,” he tells you.
It takes a little bit of effort, but when you lift your head, you’re met with a disheveled, messy version of yourself. There’s tears in your eyes, the feel of Jeongguk’s fat cock pushing and pulling in and out of you is overwhelmingly good, his girth rubbing against the sensitive walls of your cunt. Your makeup is messy, your under eyes dark with smudged mascara, the coverage around your mouth and on your nose completely gone, your lips kissed swollen and red.
Eyes moving to Jeongguk behind you through the mirror, you see the way he’s watching you watch him. Watching as your expression changes, how your eyes flutter when he hits that spot inside of you that makes your knees lock, makes your breath stutter and your brows furrow in pleasure.
“There,” you breathe, “God, you make me feel so good, baby.” Your hands slip down the mirror again, the force of his thrusts and the pleasure that’s curling in your belly already making it hard to hold yourself up. You squeeze your eyes shut to keep the tears from spilling over.
Jeongguk picks up the pace of his hips, his hands gripping yours, his thumbs digging into the little dimples at the bottom of your back, a perfect match, like they were placed there just for him. It’s almost like your body was meant for him, crafted with him in mind, fitting together so flawlessly that it’s hard for him to remember there were people before you, people that made him feel good before you did. Because when he’s inside of you, when he’s with you, it’s like that’s all there is. Just an endless loop of you and him, you and him, no beginning or end, no past or future, like the world is only as big as the room you’re in.
“Faster– getting close...”
Your voice echoes in his ears, and he realizes that his thrusts slowed while he got lost in thought. He clears his throat, gets back to work, back to fucking you like he means it, it’s the last time he ever will.
“You always cum so fast when I fuck you like this,” Jeongguk muses, biting his lip when he sees the way your tits jiggle in the mirror.
He expects you to be snarky, make a comment about how he’s smug, too cocky, but instead you nod your head, hands forming fists against the mirror. It’s airy and sexy when you say, “Yeah, you fuck me the best, love your cock… wanna cum for you…”
And it reminds him of the first time he fucked you. How you said more or less the same thing.
“Yeah, wanna fuck you all the time. Love your fat cock…”
That was 6 months ago. It’s not that long but it is at the same time. It feels like only a few seconds and a lifetime in the same breath. Jeongguk feels something stir in his belly, something mix with the steady build up.
“Yeah?” he asks, his voice soft and dreamy– almost fond, juxtaposing the way he’s fucking you. “What do you say?”
You wait a few moments for your body to get there, your head falling again like it's getting hard to support yourself. You’re chanting softly; pornographic ‘yeah’s’ and lewd mewls spilling from your lips nonstop.
“Fuck…” you start, “can I… can I cum?”
It sounds like it's hard for you to form words, so it's a little mean of Jeongguk to spring something new on you. But he can’t help himself.
“Who are you asking?”
A confused sound that turns to a moan at the tailend colors the air.
“I…”
“Who am I, baby? What should you call me when I’m fucking you like this?” Jeongguk asks, patient and gentle.
You say the first thing that pops into your head.
“Daddy?”
A sharp slap echoes in the room, and you’re sure there’s a red palm print on your ass. You cry out, whiny as Jeongguk leans over you, his voice in your ear.
“You know better than that,” he says, a little out of breath, but still stern. “Try again. Be polite.”
At this point you’re so close that you’re crying softly, your knees turning inward as you squeeze your legs together as if that will keep your orgasm at bay until he says you can cum. You try to listen to his words, connect the dots and finally it comes to you.
“Sir–” you gasp, “Sir, can I cum?”
Jeongguk groans a little, feels his cock jerk inside of you, the title making that hot feeling burn within him.
“Yes,” he moans, “Look at yourself while you do, want you to see how pretty you look when you cum just from my cock.”
Hardly able to keep yourself up at all, even with the help of the mirror, you tell him in a whiny voice that you can’t, that it’s too hard.
You hear him coo before your world spins a little bit, Jeongguk wrapping an arm around your tummy, pulling you to his chest. His body is burning behind you, and his breath is hot in your ear as he pants, his hips punching into you from behind. The arm that he doesn't have wrapped around your torso comes up, forearm resting between your tits, fingers getting a hold of your jaw making you look straight ahead.
The sight looking back at you is indecent. So filthy that you and Jeongguk both falter, a soft moan echoing in unison.
“Look at you,” Jeongguk purrs.
“Please,” you cry, simply because you don't know what else to say, overtaken with pleasure.
“I already said you could cum, baby,” he reminds you.
And it's like it's all too much and not enough at the same time. Like the push and pull of his cock into your cunt is too good yet exactly what you need, like his hands on you are overstimulating but without them you wouldn’t feel that safety, that feeling of being adored and taken care of. Like his voice in your ear encouraging you is too nice but if he stopped talking to you you wouldn’t know wouldn’t know what to do, that it’s okay.
“Jeongguk,” you cry. Like actually cry. No longer able to hold in the tiny, overwhelmed sobs.
He presses into the side of your head, kisses you as well as he can when he’s jackhammering his hips into your cunt. He shushes you, and his hold on your jaw softens, his other hand petting over your front soothingly. “I know, baby, I know,” he coos.
And it just makes you cry harder. “I can’t– It’s– it’s too much–”
“Yes you can,” he whispers hotly, his eyes on you in the mirror. “You can do it, be good, cum for me…”
He uses the hand he has on your front to press you back into him, closer if that were even possible, but with the slight pressure on your lower belly he feels something.
The moan that falls from his lips is so shameless and lewd. It’s not loud, but more of a soft, wondrous keen.
His cock thrusting into you can be felt with the light push into your belly, and it unlocks something in him. He grabs one of your hands that’s clutching at his forearm and brings it down, his own hand on top of yours pushing so you can feel his cock inside of you too.
“Feel that?” he asks, nipping at your ear lightly, “So hard for you, so deep that you can feel me through your belly... Let go for me, baby, wanna feel you cum on my cock while I can feel myself inside you from the outside.”
Maybe it’s feeling him from the outside, or maybe it's the way he always manages to keep that soft, gentle way with you no matter what. Even if he gets worked up, losing himself a bit– he never leaves you, never becomes too harsh or rough. He’s always the perfect mix of both, and that’s what makes the pleasure that’s been ebbing in you wash over your body.
You tremble in his arms and soft, desperate whimpers get exhaled as you cum. No warning, but Jeongguk knows, feels the way you contract around him as he slows his hips a little, giving you longer, unhurried thrusts. He lets you bathe in it, the dreamy, dizzying high that makes you delirious as you thank him with teary words.
“That’s my girl, so good for me all the time… knew you could do it,” he says, his hips gradually starting to pick up again, his thrusts sloppy.
Vision is a little blurry when you blink your eyes, but the sight of Jeongguk wrapped around you, his face in your neck biting and moaning into your skin–
“Please cum inside of me,” you beg.
“Yeah, gonna–” he tells you, his teeth sinking into that spot between your shoulder and neck. You gasp when he sucks, knowing that there will be a mark, and you bring your hand up to his hair, keeping him close.
Jeongguk switches from those harsh sucks and bites to sweet kisses up your neck to your jaw. His fingers on your face urge you to look over your shoulder, and the distance between your lips and his is too small, too tempting for him to not take it.
He kisses you, desperate just like his thrusts are becoming until he's right at the crest.
“Gonna cum,” he pants against your lips, his hand on your tummy still pushing to feel himself.
You nod, still looking at him behind you, placing soft kisses on his lips at first and then wherever you can reach until he succumbs to the pleasure, his eyes closing and his head lulling back a little before he’s pressing into your sweaty hair, like he wants to hide yet stay close to you. He cums with a gasp, cock buried deep, throbbing with every shot of white that paints you from the inside.
As soon as he catches his breath, he kisses you.
He kisses you again and again and again.
~~~
There’s something so intimate… so vulnerable about letting someone wash you.
When there’s no ulterior motives laced with sex or lust. Just gentle touches, pure in the way they take their time with lathering up even the simple, boring parts of your body. Paying special mind to your hands, your calves. Behind your ears, your shoulders.
Jeongguk’s touching you like you’re sunshine.
Like he’s savoring the warmth of your body under his fingertips even though it's too hot in the shower.
He’s touching you like you’re the perfect day, one so perfect that he’s scared it will pass by before he can enjoy it.
He’s touching you with so much care and attention and it feels so good that it’s blissful. It feels so– it feels like when you’re a little kid and you return to the comfort of your home after a long day, to the familiarness of your bed, to everything that makes you feel safe.
It feels like your favorite memory. The one you keep adding onto because the details have gotten fuzzy, but you clutch onto it because it's too precious to let go of.
It feels like a–
It feels like–
Jeongguk takes his time with you.
It feels so good that it’s almost overwhelming in a way that you’ve never experienced before. It feels so good that tears sting behind your eyelids, so different from the tears you shed earlier.
He delicately untangles your hair, gets out all the knots he put in it. He cups your face, gently rubbing the pads of his thumbs under your eyes, getting the makeup off as best he can. He’s careful when he’s suds up your body, mindful of the light blossoms that he planted into your skin. The violet on your neck pulses under the care, a bloom that’s pretty, a bloom that aches, a bloom that feels good.
He’s adoring, he’s soft, he’s bliss.
When his lips kiss your cheek, it's almost platonic, simply because it lacks desire. It sounds bad, embarrassing maybe, that he’s not desiring your naked body in front of him, but it’s not– it’s something new and it's so incredibly wholesome. His kisses are so sweet, so pure, so innocent and just an expression of caring rather than wanting that it makes you want him in a way that scares you.
After the final rinse, you kiss his cheek. Hope and yearn that he can feel half of what he made you feel. You hope he knows what you mean when you say quietly, “Thank you.”
~~~
“Wear this one, you look good in white.”
Jeongguk has a fluffy grey towel tied around his hips, lingering water droplets disappearing when they trek far enough down his torso. And you’re scrunching your hair in a matching towel, warm from the heated towel rack. The atmosphere in his bedroom is warm too, soft and comfortable, sweet like a cup of hot tea.
He’s got one of his white shirts scrunched in his hands, ready to dress you. Quiet laughter putters from your lips as you reach your hands up and into the arm holes as he pulls the neck hole over your head. When you pop out Jeongguk is close enough for you to kiss him, so you do.
“We’ve kissed so much today,” he says thoughtfully, turning and digging in his drawers. Instead of taking care of himself, he finds a pair of your lounge shorts that you left here.
“I know, how gross,” you say with playful disgust in your tone, as you take that and step into the shorts. Panties are unnecessary apparently, since he doesn’t hand you one of the stray pairs you know are in his dresser.
He hums walking into the bathroom. “It’s nice, I like kissing you.”
You roll your eyes following him. Hopping onto the counter you watch as he does his skincare. “We already had sex, no need to butter me up, sir.”
The corners of his mouth turn up just barely as he tries not to smile, hardly glancing at you as he dabs his moisturizer in.
“I like it when you’re around,” he says simply.
Heat rushes to your face, and your heart beats loud in your ears and something feels so different.  
So of course you just change the subject.
“I’m so glad we ordered food before the shower.” You place a hand on your belly, “I’m so hungry.”
“Hopefully you clicked the right stuff, since you were, you know, a little distracted… seeing as we were kissing… so much… because I like to kiss you...”
“Do you want a kiss right now? Is that why you’re being annoying?”
He makes an offended expression before immediately going back to his normal face, tinted with faux nonchalance. He shrugs his tattooed shoulder, tapping the cream in. “I wouldn’t object to a kiss or two…”
And so he gets a kiss or two or three, soft, giddy little pecks.
He pulls away, and just looks at you for a few seconds, doe-eyes dancing across your features before falling and lingering on the lovebite he left that’s peeking out. The neck of his shirt is too big, hanging loose. His hand comes up and he fingers at the material like he’s thinking of straightening the shirt out for you.
He doesn’t, instead bringing the hand to your jaw, making you tilt your head, looking up at him.
“You’re so pretty,” he says, his thumb gliding on the apple of your cheek.
Your eyes fall shut, content. A lazy smile laces your words when you say, “Thanks.”
Cute kissy noises ring in your ears until they don’t, the doorbell taking their place.
You pull away so fast that Jeongguk is almost insulted. Jumping from the counter you squeal about the food, tapping his toweled butt on the way out of the bathroom, telling him to hurry up and get dressed as you rummage through your purse for your wallet.
“Wait I’ll pay,” he says, finally dropping his towel and snagging a pair of briefs.
“It’s okay!” you call over your shoulder, speed walking to his front door.
The walk from Jeongguk’s bedroom isn’t too long, but your thoughts are fast, running a mile a minute. The thought of how good today has been, how easy it is to be with him. How whenever you’re with him you find that your cheeks hurt when you go home, laughter constant, and smiles ever present. You think about how warm his home is, how warm he is, how being with him is a comfort that you’ve come to crave.
The smile that is on your face is unconscious, the remnants of the soft emotions swirling in your chest, feeling like you’ve finally pinpointed what's so different about today.
When you open the door, that lingering smile falls and that hazy feeling evaporates.
In front of you is not a delivery guy.
It’s the woman from the pictures. The framed one in the hallway, the one on top of Nari’s dresser, the one in the photo albums Jeongguk let you browse through when you wanted to see his daughter as a newborn. It’s the same woman that was in the picture he sent you.
And your heart drops when you take her in. You knew she was pretty, but the pictures don’t even scratch the surface. Even when her features are pulled in perturbed confusion, she’s beautiful. She’s put together, long dark hair styled and sleek, make up done minimally but elegantly, her parted lips a sheer coral. Her straight, dark brows are furrowed causing a slight wrinkle between them. It looks out of place, an imperfection that doesn’t belong.
Her sharp eyes scan you, both of you just kind of standing there in the doorway, taking the other in. They go from your wet hair, to your face, down to where Jeongguk’s shirt hangs loosely off your shoulder. Her gaze hardens as she lingers there for just a moment, before directing dark eyes back at you.
It feels like it’s been hours, that you both have been there, but in reality it's not even a minute. She looks like she’s going to say something, but the impatient baby in the woman’s arms makes herself known.
At the high pitched squeal that Nari lets out, you snap out of it, plastering a smile on your face. The little one is smiling, clearly excited to see you, her doe-eyes curling and getting mini puffs under them. When she leans away from her mom, arms reaching out towards you, it’s instinct when you go to take her from her mom.
“Hi! Sorry Gguk’s in–” You falter, arms raised halfway, when Nari gets pulled out of reach.
The woman doesn’t go as far as taking a step away from you, but she turns at the waist kind of putting herself and some distance between you and her baby. As you let your hands fall in timid, jerky movements, you look between the two in front of you, and Nari’s doing the same, a cute confused expression on her face like she doesn’t know why she wasn’t allowed to play with you.
And it’s not like you blame Nari’s mom. It’s very apparent that she has no clue who you are. If anything you think it’s good that her mom is protective enough to not just hand Nari over to someone she doesn’t know. It makes sense, but it stings.
“Ba?” Nari babbles, to her mom.
The woman’s cold gaze breaks at the sound of her daughter's voice, and morphs into one of quiet love as she directs her eyes to the baby, giving her a soft smile. She bounces Nari a little on her hip, and Nari giggles. When they are looking at each other, their profile resemblance is striking. Of course Nari’s features are still baby soft, but it's obvious that they have the same nose. Small, slightly upturned. The same lips too; plump with the upper lip almost rounded.
“Who is this, Riri?” she asks her baby playfully, her eyes finding you again at the tailend of her sentence.
She’s smiling, but her eyes are stony, guarded, as she looks at you expectantly.
“I’m __– I’m a uh… a friend of Jeongguk’s?”
Her eyes narrow for a fraction of a second when you say ‘friend’ and the coolness she’s emitting is enough for you to call for Jeongguk for your shoulder, needing the comfort of him. The woman in front of you is intimidating in a way you don’t think you could ever achieve. It’s something about the way she carries herself, so collected and aloof, like she’s mastered the art of keeping it together.
And you’re not scared of her, not really. But what are you supposed to do in this situation other than call for Jeongguk?
At the thought of him, you hear his voice come from behind you and when you turn, you see him walking out of his room, bottom half clothed in dark joggers, his top half bare as he clumsily pulls a shirt over his head.
“Do you need cash for the ti–” When his wet head of hair pops out of the neck hole, and he sees not one girl in front of him, but three, his voice cuts out, and he slows as he takes in the scene before him. You see how his chest expands as he takes a deep breath, like he’s preparing himself before quickening his pace.
Nari starts to kick in her mom’s hold when she sees her dad approaching, excited little gasps puffing out of her.
“Hi, little flower,” Jeongguk coos, smiling wide as he brings his hand up, tickling Nari’s neck, making the baby squirm and curl in on herself as she bubbles out a giggle. “Dasom,” he says as a greeting to his ex-wife, as takes his place next to you, his hand settling on your lower back for just a moment, like he’s letting you know he’s there.
Dasom lets the corners of her lips turn up slightly as she says, “Jeongguk.”
“What are you doing here?” he asks. You can tell he’s trying to keep his voice neutral.
“Something came up at work. I have to go to the headquarters a few cities over for a few days,” Nari grabs at the dainty necklace she’s wearing, and Dasom gently untangles her little fingers, offering her her wrist instead. A heavier, more sturdy piece of jewelry keeps Nari busy. “I texted you hours ago letting you know I was on my way.”
“I was busy. I didn’t have my phone on me,” he explains.
Dasom looks between you both. The freshly washed hair on both your heads, the mark on your neck. The too-big, white shirt you have on that’s clearly not yours. “I can see that,” she replies coolly.
And suddenly you feel so out of place, so uncomfortable. Standing between two people who used to share the home you’re surrounded by. Two people who share the sweet baby girl that’s content babbling to herself. Two people who were married, who were in love, who have so much history together. You know it’s mildly absurd, because they’re divorced, but you feel like you’re intruding, like you’re doing something wrong.
You’re just about to excuse yourself when Jeongguk sighs, runs a frustrated hand through his hair, reaching out and taking Nari from her mom. “__, can you take Nari and wait for me in the playroom?”
“Daaa,” she peeps happily in her dad’s big arms, as he hands her off to you.
“Kook–” Dasom says, uneasiness lacing her tone.
“She’s fine Dasom, she’s been with __ many times,” Jeongguk says with a finality to his tone.
Dasom says her goodbyes to Nari, a tense silence falling over the house as you walk away with the baby. It’s not till Dasom thinks you’re far enough away that she speaks up.
“Who is that, Jeongguk?”
Jeongguk shuts his eyes roughly when he hears a hint of confused hurt in her voice. He can tell she’s trying to mask it, but he’s known her for a long time. Remembers clearly what it sounds like, memories of all the painful talks preceding the divorce edging on his conscience.
“She’s a friend,” he sighs.
“How old are your friends these days?” Dasom questions, confusion turning to judgement– obvious in her tone and her stance, her arms crossing over her torso.
Jeongguk hangs his head and scrubs his hands over his face. “How was Nari?” he asks, trying to change the subject.
His ex has different plans. “How old is she?”
He looks up at her sharp tone, a surprised color to his features. He looks over his shoulder towards the playroom before he turns back to her, a soft incredulous scoff leaving his lips. “She’s old enough, and I’m not doing this with you. So if you don’t have any updates–” His hand is on the door in the process of inching it closed when Dasom interrupts him.
“You know,” she starts, “I never thought I’d have to worry about this with you. Thought you’d be able to keep your personal and parenting lives separate.”
And she knows exactly which buttons of his to push; of course she does. She was married to him for years, knew him better than anyone else at one point in time. She knows that insinuating that he is a lacking parent, that he doesn’t always put their daughter first, will irk him enough to pull a reaction out of him.
It’s purposefully done– vindictiveness an ugly side of his ex that doesn’t come out of her often, only when she’s hurt and wants to hurt back. Or at least it didn’t happen often. It’s been over a year, and people change.
“Are you sure you want to debate which of us has trouble separating and balancing things when you’re the one dropping our daughter off in the middle of your week with her, to go to work?” he asks, his tone icy. He knows her well too. Knows it’s the same insinuations that hurt him, that cut her as well.
Anger colors Dasom’s features as she takes a step closer to Jeongguk, her head tilted a little as she looks up at him. “I do it for her. To provide for her. You know that,” she spits, “And I keep my lovers away from her while I’m at it.”
Jeongguk laughs, like he can’t believe he’s having this conversation. “I’m sure you do, Dasom,” he pauses, debating on whether to add what he’s thinking. “And for the record, I don’t have ‘lovers’. I’m only seeing one person.”
“And are you planning on committing to her? Making it long term?”
Caught off guard doesn’t even really begin to cover the whiplash-like feeling that Jeongguk experiences when he hears the question.
He hesitates, flounders a little. He cares about you, likes you so, so much. And he’s not stupid– he knows that he feels something for you that’s vastly different from what he’s felt for the others before you but– you’re young. So young, with your whole life ahead of you. Meanwhile, he has his life already booked for the next 16 years, at least. He’s never really let himself think about things long term, because it just doesn’t seem realistic. Asking you to commit to not only him, but a two year old as well? It seems selfish to ask that of you, like an unintentional trap that steals your freedom. He can’t ask for that. He won’t.
“I…”
Dasom looks disillusioned, like she really did expect better from Jeongguk. “I didn’t think so. You’re not even dating her... She’s your ‘friend’?” she asks.
Jeongguk just looks at her with pursed lips and pinched brows.
“And when you’re not ‘friends’ anymore, Kook?” she asks again, “Are you just going to bring another ‘friend’into Nari’s life for her to get attached to just for them to leave again? And what about when she’s older? Do you want her thinking that’s what women do? Come and go?”
Dasom’s words are exaggerated and extreme– she doesn't know the circumstances between you and him, doesn’t know that it was Nari that introduced you to one another, so waiting to introduce you and his daughter wasn’t an option. And it’s not like Jeongguk is ever going to have a legion of women filtering through his home.
But the point is made all the same.
“No, of course I don’t want that,” he says defeated, as he tilts his head back for a moment, letting his eyes shut.
“Yeah, me either,” she says. Her voice lacks the judgment it held at the beginning of the conversion, being replaced by blasé melancholy. “So I hope she gets it out of your system. Please drop Nari off next Friday, just like always.”
Turning on her heel, Dasom makes to leave before she stops abruptly. She takes a deep breath with her head tilted back, before she’s looking down, like she’s tired. Like the fight with Jeongguk took a lot of her. She pulls a folder from her bag, turning back around and presenting it to Jeongguk.
“For Ri’s speech…” she says softly, “I took her to another speech pathologist yesterday. This one said try doing signs during meals. ‘All done’. ‘More’...” Dasom does the signs haphazardly waving her hands about. “Doctor said it...” She takes a deep breath, and laughs halfheartedly, and Jeongguk can see how she’s tearing up. “Well, like all the other doctor’s we’ve taken her to, they said it may help.”
Her eyes are glassy when she looks at him, and Jeongguk’s heart aches because he knows exactly how she feels.
The anxiety and constant worry you feel over your child’s well-being is one of the hardest things to navigate because you have to keep it together and not let yourself get defeated. You have to come to terms with the fact that sometimes there’s things that, as a parent, you can’t fix, and that sometimes you can do everything right and still have things go wrong– things that may never be able to go right.
He knows that there is an unexplainable guilt, that there’s always that little voice in the back of your head that tells you that maybe if you had done this, then that wouldn’t have happened. It’s a horribly helpless feeling, wanting nothing more than to make things better for your child, and not being able to.
“She’s fine you know,” he says softly, “she’s just taking her time.”
Dasom tries to nod, but she breaks. Her hands come up to cover her quivering chin and quiet her soft cries. She buries her face in her palms as her shoulders tremble.
“Hey, hey,” Jeongguk whispers, reaching out and pulling her to his chest. Her hands are still covering her face, so his arms circle around her as a whole and he rests his chin on her head and lets her cry, his own eyes stinging.
It’s only a minute or two that Dasom weeps against his chest. She’s then pulling away with a deep breath, blowing it out in that soothing way trying to calm herself, trying to regulate her breathing. She laughs, airy like she’s embarrassed, as she taps under her eyes, trying to save her makeup as best she can.
“Ah… sorry about that,” she says, “Haven’t cried in a while so that was bound to happen sometime soon.”
Jeongguk laughs quietly before he muses, “She can say juice now.”
Dasom rolls her eyes playfully. “Yeah… Joofs.”
They both laugh together, for a moment, a few moments, until it tapers off naturally. Leaving soft wistful smiles on their faces.
“Drive safe, Som-ie.”
~~~
“Yeah… Joofs.”
The laughter that echoes from Jeongguk’s foyer feels like a punch in the gut after everything that you’ve heard. All the things you felt earlier seem stupid and childish in hindsight.  
And yeah, you don’t blame Jeongguk for staying quiet when Dasom asked if he wanted to commit to you because that’s not something you guys have even touched on, but when he stayed silent as she went on about you just being his ‘friend’? Alluding to you just being a lay for him, just something he needs to ‘get out of his system’? Something disposable and unimportant?
You had at least expected him to defend you.
To tell her that while you may not be his girlfriend, you are important to him. More than a quick lay, more than just a young girl he needs to fuck out of his system. Because you know that’s exactly what she thinks you are. And what she thinks doesn't matter, not really, but if that’s what Jeongguk thinks?
Part of you knows that there’s no way that Jeongguk thinks that. That if he did, this thing between you both would have fizzled out by now or at least been harder to deal with. But that’s never been the case. It’s always been good with him, easy.
If he thought that way, he wouldn’t have been so worried in the beginning and would have instead jumped at the chance to get into your pants. You weren’t exactly subtle back then– there were plenty of opportunities for him to come onto you. But it literally took you throwing yourself at him for him to give in.
So like you know. You know, you know, you know in your heart that it’s not true, that he doesn’t think that little of you.
But his silence was enough to plant a seed of doubt, enough to break a little bit of trust. More than enough to hurt you.
“Naaa.”
You look down at Nari, and she reaches her hands up wanting to be held. A soft, pitiful laugh falls from your lips and you bend to pick her up.
“Sorry, wasn’t playing with you was I?”
Nari looks at you, studies you with those big eyes of hers. She pats at your cheek, a little roughly, but you can tell she’s trying to be gentle. Her little hand goes from patting to petting, almost like she’s trying to soothe you, like she can tell you’re upset.
“Buu?” she asks.
In reality you have no idea what she’s saying. But it feels like she’s asking if you’re okay, and just like if an adult were to ask you that when you’re close to losing it, close to breaking– it makes you cry.
Not the embarrassing type of cry, but just a tiny cry in front of the sweetest, tiny human. Your eyes just tear up, and your chin trembles a little bit as you try to muster up a small smile, but when you blink a couple tears spill over.
Nari gasps. “Nuuu!” she tells you, before she’s wrapping her tiny bread arms around your neck, clutching onto you like she’s trying to squeeze out all of the sad.
It makes you let out a watery laugh, and you squeeze back, enough so that she croaks a little like a frog. When you pull back she’s giggling in that pure baby way that probably has healing powers or something.
“You are so smart,” you tell her, sniffing a little, trying to get yourself together. You’re not sure if Dasom left yet, or how much longer it will be before Jeongguk comes back, and you don’t want him to know you were crying, or eavesdropping.
She tilts her head at you, then leans in with her lips pulled between her teeth making them pop out when they are against your cheek, a tiny ‘maa’ sounding with her smooch.
“That’s a new type of kiss,” you tell her.
“Sol-mi, Yoongi and Jimin’s daughter, taught her at the party.”
Whipping around at the sound of his voice, you turn and see Jeongguk leaning against the doorway with two glasses of wine in his hands and a sippy cup tucked into his arm. He gives you a soft smile, and you smile back because that’s the only thing you know how to do when you’re with him. Instinctive.
“Hi,” you say.
“Hi,” he says back.
“DAAADAAA!” Nari screeches.
You pull back, wincing for your ear drum, as you let Nari down with an endeared laugh. She toddles over to her dad, tugging on his joggers.
“Hi my babygirl,” he says. Then laughs when she tugs particularly hard, “Hey– you’re gonna pull Daddy’s pants down, quit it.”
“Joofs,” she says, grabby hands reaching for the sippy cup she spotted.
“I see how it is,” he says, handing you your glass and then grabbing the juice, “Didn’t even miss me?”
He manages to sit down without his hands and without squishing his daughter, and you follow suit, watching the daddy-daughter moment unfold, quietly sipping on your wine. Trying your best to push everything else out of your mind, trying to get that almost... safe, warm feeling back. The one that you always get when you’re with Jeongguk. It’s been missing since he came into the room.
“Give Daddy a kiss and then you can have your juice,” he angles his cheek to her and then adds on, “Also say please.” like it’s an afterthought.
You shake your head, smiling, and Jeongguk flicks his eyes to you, mirroring your expression.
“Peeb,” she spouts before she gives him a very quick, rather half-assed kiss. She doesn’t even do the ‘maa’. Her hands open out in front of her, expectant and ready for her drink.
Jeongguk tuts at her, but hands the juice over. “You’re rotten, missy.”
Nari says nothing, just waddles so she's standing in front of him with her back to his face. She plops herself right in his lap, his criss-crossed legs making a perfect Nari-shaped seat. Sipping away with her drink in one hand, her other comes down to Jeongguk’s tattooed arm that he wrapped around her belly. Tracing them with her pudgy little fingers, she tries her best to look down while simultaneously keeping her drink in the proper position.
It’s quiet for a bit, just Nari’s soft drinking noises. You take the moment to get up and grab something from your stuff in Jeongguk’s room, before returning. As you’re walking past Jeongguk back to your spot across from him, you feel his hand tug at the one you have dangling by your side.
You look at him, a small questioning noise sounding.
He pulls, making you bend at the waist getting closer to his level, and when he tilts his head back to look up at you, his eyes flicker to your lips and then he licks his and then he’s craning his neck and then he’s kissing you softly.
It’s fleeting but it's sweet. It makes the warm feeling settle in your heart again, just for a moment before it hides away, somewhere within you. Your eyes dart to Nari. Kisses usually being reserved for alone time.
He shakes his head. “It’s alright… Sorry that happened while you were here… Me and Dasom usually communicate better than that.”
You take a seat next to him and Nari, careful of his wine glass. “It’s okay…”
Gazes meet for a few seconds looking over the other like you’re both trying to figure something out. Things different from the ‘different’ you felt earlier. This different feels like something is off; the first one felt like a dream. Maybe it was.
“Okay,” he replies lightly, but he sounds unsure, like he doesn't know if it actually is ‘okay’. His eyes drop to the small bag that you brought into the room. “Whatcha got?”
You tell him you got Nari something for her birthday, nothing big but just something that reminded you of her. You ask him if it’s okay to give it to her.
He says of course, why wouldn’t it be?
For some reason the tiny exchange hurts.
Lacking an answer, you pinch at the little fat roll on Nari’s thigh, her tiny jean shorts putting all the chub on display. She looks up at you, and you raise the bag and shake it a little. Her smile grows as she realizes it's for her. Jeongguk is abandoned, your lap now occupied.
“She has no loyalty at all,” Jeongguk says.
“She’s just making as many allies as she can, and I think that is very smart of her,” you defend, watching as Nari plucks tissue paper after tissue paper out of the bag (with only one small hand, the other still holding her juice), until she’s squealing. Your face lights up at her enthusiasm, and hers lights up at the toy, and you don’t see it, but Jeongguk’s lights up at you both.
You’ve been good with her since that day you found her at your work, and Jeongguk notices when you go out of your way to ask about her, to be kind to her, patient with her... to take care of her. Never once have you treated her like she was a burden, or an inconvenience.
He sees the way that Nari is with you, too.
Sees how happy she gets when you walk in his front door, how she always shares her things with you in that sweet way that babies do when they like someone. She even asks about you when you don't come around for a few days. A babbled version of your name peeping from her little lips.
It’s no secret that his baby has grown attached to you, come to love you. Dasom’s words ring in his ears. The thing she said about Nari getting used to someone he brings into her life, just for them to not be permanent.  
A medium sized, pink, stuffed Narwhal is pulled from the bag by the horn, and Nari swings it to the side to show her dad, just for a moment, before she’s squeezing it to her chest. She’s cooing, kinda nuzzling into it.
“Ba buuu,” she says softly, eyes still on the gift like it's something wondrous, rather than just a small plush. Jeongguk grows soft and your heart squeezes in your chest. The warmth comes back, flickers before going out again.
“What is it?” Jeongguk asks around a sip of his wine.
“A narwhal. You know, Nar-i, Nar-whal.”
His mouth twitches, fighting a smile, but he just nods. Until he can’t hold his laughter in anymore, making you laugh too by consequence. Easy.
The little crows feet at the corners of his eyes make an appearance and he scrunches his nose at you as he quiets. His hair is still just a little bit damp. “It’s cute,” he amends. “You didn’t have to get her anything, but thank you for thinking about her.”
The smile on his lips is tiny, but you can tell it’s genuine. Without laughter lightning up his face, you realize how tired he looks, warn out.
“Are you okay?” you say, arms raising so Nari is able to get up, making her way to her other toys, the narwhal tucked into her side. She grabs a babydoll, holds it to the narwhal and makes them move around like she’s introducing her toys.
Jeongguk sighs, and leans back on his hands. “Just wasn’t expecting that, is all… I get stressed when things don’t go as planned.”
“That’s why you broke out the wine in the middle of the day?” you ask with a teasing tone.
He rolls his eyes playfully. “One glass won’t hurt…”
The doorbell cuts off your reply. The food’s here.
~~~
The headboard behind Jeongguk’s back is hard, just like he is under you.
But his touches are soft, just like his kisses.
You’re straddling him, your hips just barely rocking over him as you lick into his mouth. Mewl against his lips. Hands in his hair, not pulling, but just twining your fingers in his locks, keeping him close.
It’s slow, unhurried and gentle. When he brings his palms to your chest over his shirt, he feels how your nipples pebble through the material as he squeezes, rolls them in his hands. So responsive to his touch, you pull away for just a moment to breathe out a pleased sigh before giving him a few cute pecks. Pushing into your lips, he deepens the kisses, his tongue teasing the seam of your lips until you open up for him.
He feels young again, like he’s making out with his crush, heavy petting because they are too scared to go all the way, but too into each other to not give in just a little. He hasn’t felt this way in so long. You gasp into his mouth when he pinches your nipple between his fingertips. His cock pulses, but his heart clenches.
It’s like reality is finally catching up to him. Reminding him that you and him were never supposed to get in so deep, were never supposed to get so entangled in each other’s lives. Fun and casual. That’s what it’s supposed to be. But it’s so much more than that now. At least for him it is.
His heart clenches because he’s not young anymore, but you still are.
The baby monitor that goes off with hiccuping cries just confirms his feelings.
“Sorry,” he says against your lips, his hands moving to your hips, squeezing before he helps maneuver you off of him.
“Bring her back in here,” you suggest.
Jeongguk pauses, twisting to crack his back. “You sure?”
You hum, “Yeah, wanna hang out with you both.”
And again his heart pulls, but he nods with a soft smile and a quick kiss before he’s hurrying out of the room.
Hands scrub over your face as you wait for him, your head knocking against the headboard. You purposefully focus on playing a game on your phone while you wait, refusing to let your thoughts loop incessantly around your brain.
It's a little while when Jeongguk walks back in with Nari on his hip. The sight makes you coo.
Nari’s looking around like she’s still a little out of it, her tiny round body in a light pink nightie covered in little bunnies sleeping on clouds and moons. Instead of her hair being in her trademark little ponies, it’s down, falling in messy little wisps around her face. The narwhal is clutched in her tiny hand by the horn and when she sees you, she blinks a few times before she smiles around the paci in her mouth.
“Hi sweet girl,” you say, when Jeongguk places her on the bed.
She tries to walk over to you, but the bed is soft and she’s very much still tired so she stumbles, hits the mattress with a small oof and an airy little giggle. Crawling the rest of the way she sits herself next to you, puts her plush in her lap.
“Think someone had a bad dream,” Jeongguk says around a yawn, taking his spot on the bed. “Also sorry it took a second, had to change her pull up.”
You hum, your hand coming up to pet at her hair, dark, silky, and baby scented.
“Wanna watch something, boba?” Jeongguk asks, laying himself on his side, one hand propped under his head, the other on the remote.
Nari nods, hunkers down in the fluffy pillow behind her. She looks at you and pats the sheets, as if telling you to lay down like her and her Daddy. Of course you listen.
It’s calm and quiet, just the children’s show playing in the background that you all are watching. You and Jeongguk half heartedly, Nari with round eyes. She lets out little laughs every now and then, her blinks slow and heavy. Jeongguk’s got a hand resting on Nari’s tummy and her little hand holds onto his thumb.
The scene is domestic.
“She doesn’t have nightmares often, does she?” you ask quietly.
Jeongguk glances at you, shakes his head. “Not here at least.”
“Has she always been a co sleeper?”
Jeongguk shakes his head again. “Not till after the divorce,” he says. “And I wouldn’t say she still co sleeps… most nights she sleeps on well on her own. I just don’t tell her no if she wants to come into my room.”
At the mention of the divorce your brain begins to whirl.
It’s not something he brings up often, and it’s never really bothered you. But after today, after you saw and heard how he and his ex interacted… It makes you curious. They seem to get along decently well, and they both clearly love Nari.
You sound a bit timid when you ask, “Why did you guys split up?”
Jeongguk’s quiet, doesn’t acknowledge that he heard you even though you know that he did. You worry that you’ve said something wrong, and you’re about to apologize but he speaks up.
“I’ll tell you… just getting my thoughts in order.”
~~~
Jeongguk stares down at the teeny, tiny baby in the bassinet. The light pink of the skirt at the bottom matches the accents on the walls of her nursery.
Her big eyes are watching the fairy mobile, big felt flowers dangling above her, the softest baby coos leaving her mouth every once in a while. She was already up when he got home from work.
When he puts his hand inside the baby bed and extends one of his fingers petting at her small hand, the baby jumps a little like she didn’t know he was there, but recognition is instant and she smiles up at him, her tiny fingers clutching around his.
“Hi miss Nari,” he says quietly, “How long have you been up, hmm? Bout time for some milk isn’t it?”
She blows a bubble up at him.
His heart swells as he picks her up, a big hand supporting her head as he pulls her to his chest. A detour to the changing table precedes his walk to the living room, where his wife is sat cross legged on the floor, papers and her laptop scattered in front of her on the coffee table. The video baby monitor is propped up as well.
“Hi honey,” Jeongguk says.
Dasom looks over her shoulder, sees the two of them and smiles. “Hey, how was work? And how’s our baby?” She types something on her laptop.
“Baby is good and work was work. Remember how I said we are thinking of setting up another branch?” Jeongguk asks, swaying a little with his cheek resting on Nari’s head. She smells like baby and Dasom hums in acknowledgement. “My brother finally got me a list of locations, so just a lot of assigning scouts to scope them out and budgeting for the cost of their travel.”
“That’s great, babe,” Dasom says.
Jeongguk watches her for a few more moments, as she flips through the papers like she’s looking for something. He walks around, so that he can sit in the loveseat off to the side, adjusts Nari so that she’s cradled in the bend of his arm. “What are you doing?” he asks.
“Just reviewing everything that’s happened at the office over the last few months…” She flicks her eyes to him.
Jeongguk frowns. “You still have two and a half weeks before you have to go back, don’t you?”
“Yeah, wanna be prepared though.”
Nari starts to wiggle in his arms, fussy. “Did you ever see if you could get a few more weeks since you guys were in the hospital for so long? That’s hardly a leave, if you ask me.”
She laughs lightly. “That’s true. But I don’t think it’s necessary? She’s doing really well, and I think that that Montessori nursery will be good for her.”
Tension fills Jeongguk’s body. “I thought we talked about letting Yeoreum watch her when you go back to work.”
“Well yes. We talked about it– but we didn’t commit to–”
“We didn’t commit to Montessori either–”
“What benefits is Nari getting if we do that?” Dasom says, finally giving Jeongguk her full attention. “No offense to Jin’s wife, but it’s not like she’s certified to care for newborns.”
“She’s a mother, Som. A very good one, she knows how to care for a baby. And Nari would be the only baby she’s taking care of so it’s one on one attention and it’s someone we know and trust so–”
“Montessori has curriculum, and it teaches children to be independent–”
“She’s a baby! She doesn’t need to be independent. She needs to be–”
Nari’s fussiness has escalated, her tiny cries filling the living room. Jeongguk starts rocking her, shushing her with soft coos. He tries the pacifier attached to her onesie, but she just pushes it out, crying louder.
“She’s hungry,” Jeongguk says, getting to his feet so he can hand her to her mom.
“I pre-pumped when she was napping earlier. There’s a bottle with 6.5 ounces in the fridge.”
Picking his battles and barely suppressing a frustrated sigh, he walks to the kitchen and places the bottle in the warmer. Nari’s cries continue to sound as he waits, bouncing her a little, rubbing her back.
Back in the loveseat, he tries to give Nari her dinner but she’s grumpy, turning her head or pushing the nipple out of her mouth, growing angrier by the minute, her tiny body turning red from how hard she’s crying.
“She’s not taking the bottle, I think she–”
“Is it warm enough?”
“Yes, I think she wants you.”
Nari’s mom looks over the top of her laptop and nods. “I’m just about done–”
“Dasom, please,” Jeongguk says, “She’s hungry and she wants her mom.”
Almost like a fog clears, Dasom’s face falls before she’s nodding hastily. “Yeah, yeah… I’m sorry I– bring her to me.”
As soon as Nari’s in her mom’s arms she quiets some, and once Dasom holds her close and starts to feed her it’s serene again. Nari’s little hand opens and closes rhythmically, until her mom gives her her finger, like Jeongguk did early. Ever since she came home from the hospital, she’s liked to hold hands.
“I’m sorry,” Dasom whispers again, without looking at Jeongguk. He can hear the guilt in her voice.
He tells her it's okay and that he’s going to shower.
Later when Nari’s down for the night and he and his wife are laying in bed, Dasom apologizes again. Tells Jeongguk that she was just stressed with preparing for work and juggling the baby.
“Som-ie, that reminds me, I was thinking…”
She turns to look at him from his side of the bed, smiling. “Not too hard, hopefully.”
“Ha-ha,” he says, unamused. He continues nervously, like he’s walking on eggshells. “But I was thinking– what if you took off for the first year or so?”
The shift in atmosphere is instant. Dasom goes stiff in her spot next to him, and she says silent.
“I only say it because we would be fine, you know?” He tries to explain, “My job brings in more than enough for us to be okay, and if you just stayed home with her, you could teach her the way that you want and I would get the peace of mind knowing that she’s safe with someone I love and trust. We would solve the daycare dilemma…”
Still, his wife says nothing, her brows furrowed.
“And you wouldn’t be so stressed…” Jeongguk continues, “you wouldn’t have to worry about work on top of being a mom… You would never miss any of her firsts and–”
“When we talked about having a baby, I told you I didn’t want to be one of those moms.”
Dasom’s voice is upset, her tone hard.
“I know, I know,” Jeongguk says softly, “But it wouldn’t be for forever. Just until she’s older… I read that companies will give extended leaves sometimes, kind of like a sabbatical.”
She laughs in disbelief, “How long have you been thinking about this? I’m not taking an extended leave, or a sabbatical, or a hiatus or whatever it is you’ve been researching, Jeongguk. I worked so hard to get to where I am,” she closes her eyes like she’s trying to stay calm, “You can’t ask me to throw that away.”
“That’s not what I’m asking–”
“But it is!” she exclaims, “Even being gone for 3 months has already put me back. My position isn’t one that can stay open for extended periods of time. And that means if I take off for even just a year– it’ll be given to someone else. Someone else will come into what I built and either reap the benefits or ruin it.”
Jeongguk stays quiet, looking at the pattern of the duvet over his lap.
It’s softer when Dasom speaks up again. “If that’s the kind of mother you want me to be– the kind that has no substance, or passions, or goals outside of being a mom– then… you may as well get the papers.”
Jeongguk’s head snaps up, his expression shocked and confused. “Divorce? Why is that the first thing your mind goes to?”
Dasom runs her hands through her hair, pressing the heels of her palms against her temples. “I’m not gonna bend on this, Kook.”
And it was almost like when the idea of divorce was spoken into existence, it was something that hung over them, like a curse that took only 7 months to come true.
~~~
“Dasom is a good mom,” Jeongguk says slowly, “We just parent very differently.”
You stay quiet, waiting for him to continue, adjusting yourself so that you’re looking at him.
“That’s the root of it, really. We couldn’t agree on anything when it came to Nari. And obviously we talked about things before she was born, and had a loose idea of how we wanted to raise her…” He stops for a moment to think.
“It’s just so different when they are born, like you think you know what it means to be a parent but you really don’t. Not until it’s already happened and they are in your arms and you’re searching for a daycare and coming across horror stories about the workers abusing the kids. Or thinking about how it wouldn’t be the end of the world if she doesn’t talk but also knowing how much harder her life will be if she doesn’t.”
You can feel a heaviness cloud the room. Jeongguk is so good at keeping this part of himself tucked away, good at putting on a brave face that when you look at him and see him looking down at his baby with worried, furrowed brows, your heart aches.
“And it led to a lot of really bad fights and it just got to a point where one day I decided I wouldn’t raise a baby in a home that was tumultuous.”
“What did you guys argue about?” you ask softly.
Jeongguk gives you a sad smile. “More like what didn’t we argue about. Daycare… But I’ll admit I agreed to it before she was born and then changed my mind... Her speech, how to deal with tantrums, where she slept, what she ate. I think Dasom’s too tough, she thinks I’m too soft…” he taps his fingers on Nari’s belly, “She thinks I’m part of the reason why she doesn’t talk. That because I dote on her, Nari thinks that she doesn’t need to use words so she just doesn’t.”
Your brows furrow. “Babies hit milestones at different rates, my cousin didn’t talk at all until he was three… Taking care of her isn’t hindering her development.”
“Thank you,” he says, quietly. “I think she’s starting to understand that too, as we keep getting outside opinions…”
He falls silent and you can tell he’s sad, his hand coming up to push Nari’s hair off of her forehead, the baby now sleeping, her round tummy expanding as she takes deep breaths. You feel bad, having brought the tense atmosphere on with your questions.
“Nari’s so smart, Gguk,” you say, kind of hasty, eager to make him feel better. “Like earlier I was upset, and she just knew… she’s so emotionally intelligent and has such a pure heart–”
“You were upset earlier?” Jeongguk asks, his gaze questioning as he looks at you.
Your mouth opens and closes like you’re trying to find the right words, but none will come out.
“Why were you upset?” he asks again, genuine worry on his face.
And just like a few hours ago, when you felt like Nari was asking you if you were okay; when Jeongguk asks you why you were upset, tears begin to well in your eyes.
At the sight of tearing up, Jeongguk sits up gingerly trying to not wake Nari, but also be attentive at the same time. “Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me…”
You sit up too, looking at Jeongguk for a moment before looking down at your hands in your lap. A tear lands on your skin when you blink, and you take a deep breath before you say, “I… I heard you earlier…”
His face pulls into one of confusion. “Me and Dasom?”
Your head tilts back, and you sound exasperated when you say, “Who else?”
Jeongguk thinks for a moment, goes over what he and his ex talked about, remembers her being a bit touchy about your age, and then he thinks he gets it. His features soften as he says, “Don’t listen to her… seeing you just caught her off guard, she–”
You give a hopeless watery laugh, turning to look at him with sad eyes. “It’s not what she said, it’s what you didn’t say.”
And once again confusion takes over his features, his mind trying to comprehend how and why something he never even said could hurt you to the point of you sniffling in his bed, your eyes begging him to get it. He feels bad when he says, “I don’t understand?”
It was never in the plan for you to be the girl that’s crying about why a man did or didn’t do something– that’s never been who you are. You’ve never really cared enough to get upset, you’ve always been independent, just cutting your losses and moving on.
But with Jeongguk, cutting your losses feels a lot like cutting out part of your heart, and you don’t think you’ll make it if you do that. One can live with half their lungs, only one of their kidneys… but no one ever lasts long when part of their heart goes missing. Jeongguk has become vital to you.
“Jeongguk,” you whisper, “What are we doing?”
Maybe it’s unfair of you to ask him something like that, when you both agreed to something carefree, no strings attached. But you think that falling in love with someone is a lot like how Jeongguk described being a parent: You think you know what it means, but you really don’t. Not until it’s already happened.
Because that’s what felt different prior to opening that door and letting doubt in with the breeze. Everything felt warmer, easier, safer, better because it was laced with the realization that you love Jeongguk.
His face has fallen when you look at him, waiting for his reply. The corners of his lips are down turned, and his brows are turned up. He begins to shake his head softly, his mouth parting a few times before he’s raising his shoulders in a hopeless way.
“I– I don’t know anymore,” he whispers back.
That’s the answer you expected, but it still makes you exhale pain, like his words knock the wind out of you. It’s shaky when you catch your breath, but you nod.
“I think I should leave for tonight,” you tell him, starting to push his comforter to the side.
Jeongguk feels his heart start to race, and he reaches out for you, his hand landing on your shoulder. “What? Right now? It’s the middle of the night– don’t– it’s–”
“If you don’t want me to leave,” you interrupt him, “then we need to talk.”
His mouth snaps shut and he rolls his lips between his teeth like he’s thinking. He glances at the baby sleeping between you, and gives you a quick nod. “Yeah, okay… Just not here, I don’t want her waking up again… let me get the monitor from her room. I’ll meet you in the living room.”
Nodding wordlessly, you slip out of the room.
You’re pacing lightly, in nothing but his shirt that hits high on your thigh and a pair of panties, when Jeongguk comes out. He’s still shirtless, but he pulled on some joggers before leaving the room. One hand is pushing his hair back like he’s stressed, and the other is holding the baby monitor. He places it on the counter, and turns to you. A sad smile is offered, and you give him one back because it’s instinct.
It seems like neither of you know where to begin, both just breathing heavy in the artificial light. You take a deep breath.
“I wanted you to defend me,” you admit.
Jeongguk stays quiet, but his brows pinch.
“Or maybe like… defend us…” Embarrassment creeps into your bones.
“Defend us over what?” he asks. He doesn’t sound like he’s being dense, but like he actually doesn’t know.
Sighing, you say, “The way she talked about me, Gguk… She said I was something you needed to ‘get out of your system’... just a friend you fuck that’s disposable and unimportant and–”
“You know that’s not true,” he interjects.
“Yeah I do. Why didn’t you tell her that?” You can feel the first licks of anger in your chest, your voice coming out harsher than you intend. “Why did you let her talk about me like I’m just some stupid kid that doesn’t know what she wants? Like you don’t know what you want?”
Jeongguk thinks about it, realizes the answer is quite simple.
“Because I don’t know what I want, and I don’t think that you know what you want either.”
You look taken aback, and anger colors your features. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that this turned into something it was never supposed to and now we don’t know how to navigate it or what we want from each other anymore,” Jeongguk explains, trying to keep the sadness out of his voice.
It’s true and it’s not at the same time. Because Jeongguk knows what he wants, at least to some extent, but he knows he can’t have it. Meaning that if he can’t have what he wants, he doesn’t know what he wants instead of that. And he supposes he can’t speak for you, but he doesn’t correct himself, instead says, “We’re in too deep, __… I care about you.”
It doesn’t sound like much, but you know what he means… know that it’s a confession of some sort.
Tentative hope bubbles in your chest at his words, and you take a few steps closer to him. “That’s not a bad thing, I care too. We both care so we can–” you pause, and look up at him. “We can just take the next step or something, right?”
Jeongguk smiles softly, and his hands come up to cup your face and it’s warm again, and it’s safe when you’re in his palms and when he’s kissing you. Your hands come up to just hold at his wrists, eyes shutting, and it’s sweet again and–
“It’s not that simple, baby…”
–and it’s over.
“There’s something that Dasom said that’s true.”
And you know it’s childish but you shake your head in his hands and tears begin to brim. She ruined everything. She planted that seed of doubt in both your heads, and she’s the reason why Jeongguk doesn’t feel safe anymore and why his hands aren’t warm and why everything is falling apart. You squeeze your eyes shut and scrunch your brows together, a few tears spilling over. “I don’t want to talk about her,” you whisper.
He smiles, a sad curve to his lips. “I know, you don’t... But we both need to hear it… We don’t agree on a lot when it comes to Nari, but she was right when she said that thing about people coming into Nari’s life and then leaving after she gets attached. That’s not fair to Nari and it was selfish of me to let it happen.”
“How do you know I’m just going to leave?” you ask.
“Because I’m not going to let you stay,” Jeongguk whispers, his thumb wiping away the tears that have already started to flow.
Words don’t even come to you, because of how badly it hurts. And you’re doing your best to keep it as together as you can because you aren’t pathetic. You’re not going to beg him to let you stay but you want to understand why. Your voice cracks when you ask him.
“You’re too young, __. And I’m not saying that’s why I don’t think you know what you want… But I don’t think you know what being with me long term means, and what you would be missing out on… I’m not going to trap you, it’ll just lead to you resenting me,” he says gently. His hands have left your face, and he walks around a little like he’s trying to gather his thoughts. “And there’s just so much that I have to balance. I don’t know if I have room or the time–”
It feels like a slap in the face. How did everything change so quickly from this morning?
“There was room in your bed for me,” you interrupt him, bitter pain lacing your words. “You had time to fuck me.”
He winces. “You know I didn’t mean it like that,” he tells you gently, “I just meant… I think I need to think about things, reevaluate my priorities–”
It sounds a lot like what you said earlier, when you were under him, taunting him with kisses.
You hum, “I just think you need to reevaluate your priorities, maybe.”
“And what do you think my priorities should be, __?” he whispers, eyes searching your face, lingering on your lips, a fond look coloring his features.
“Well, right now,” you start, looping your arms around his neck, “I think you should really focus on that plank, and on that kiss you’re dying to give me.”
And god, you wish you could go back. Wish you could rewind and just replay everything up until the doorbell rang. But you can’t because the reality of the situation is that this was always going to end.
Jeongguk has his mind made up. The fear of you leaving him and Nari and the fear of you resenting him if you stayed are inevitable feelings that he would have realized eventually. He has priorities and if he doesn’t change the way he thinks, it won’t ever work because–
“Because I’m not one of them…” you realize quietly. He cares, but not enough.
Jeongguk’s composure breaks and it’s written all over his face, how much it hurts him to hurt you, even if it’s not intentional. “I’m sorry,” he says, and it sounds desperate like he’s yearning for you to know that he means it. “But it’s always going to be her, Nari will always be the most important thing to me.”
And you won’t beg for a place in his life, but you want him to understand.
“I’m not asking to be the most important thing in your life, that’s not what I want,” you tell him.
“What do you want?” he asks.
“I want you to understand that I just want to be with you,” you tell him.
He’s by the couch now, sitting on the armrest. His lips are pressed in a tight line, and you can see redness around his eyes from fighting tears of his own. You’re still by the counter where he left you.
“It doesn’t have to be so extreme, Gguk… It’s not like we’re getting married, we would just be taking a next step–”
“But we might, __!” he yells, before shutting his eyes roughly and taking a deep breath. His tone is softer when he continues. “Obviously I wouldn’t spring that on you, but being with me means that you have to be okay with a lot of things,” he says.  
When you ask him what kinds of things he says, “You would have to be okay with never coming first, with me cancelling on you whenever something comes up with Nari. You would have to be okay with me still having a relationship with my ex because I refuse to let my baby have parents that hate each other.”
You try to keep your face straight but he must be able to see how he’s getting into your head because he continues, almost like he’s trying to convince you it’s not worth it being with him.
“At 22 you have to be okay with potentially getting married, with being a stepmom… I know you care about Nari, but if you were to commit to me, you would have to commit to her too. There would be boundaries that me and Dasom make, and you would have to respect them. You and her would have to learn to get along.”
“You’re only 22, __,” he continues, his voice borders on whining, like he just wants you to get it. “You don’t want that. You would lose your freedom… while your friends are travelling or doing whatever, you’ll be in a relationship, tied down… I won’t do that to you, __.” He looks at you for a moment. “Maybe you want a relationship,” he amends, trying to acknowledge your feelings. “But you don’t want an instant family, it’s too much for someone so young. It’s even a lot for people my age.”
“Why does it have to be so… all or nothing?” you ask, a little desperate because it's hard to understand the way he thinks.
“I can’t think short term when I have a baby who depends on me long term,” he replies.
“Then what have we been doing this whole time?”
Jeongguk opens his hands, turns his palms up like he’s giving up. “I was selfish and I got caught up… I made a mistake.”
A mistake. Your heart breaks a little but it beats loud in your ears as you let his words sink in. It's a lot to take in, especially when you two haven’t spoken about being in a committed relationship even once before. And it's confusing because he said he cared.
“I thought you cared about me… Why does it feel like you’re trying to scare me away?” you ask him, voice hurt.
Jeongguk looks at his hands, like he can’t face you. “I do care about you, and I’m not trying to scare you,” he says quietly. “I’m just telling you a fraction of the things that you really need to think about.”
And think you do.
Do you really want all that? Was he right when he alluded to you losing more than you gain? Are you ready to get into a relationship with someone who has marriage as the end goal when you don’t even have your life figured out? Are you really mature enough to handle his relationship with his ex, when you can’t even maturely handle things with your roommates sometimes?
Would being with you be a good thing for him and Nari? Or would they be better off with someone else? Someone with goals and passions, and their life a little more figured out. Maybe someone who has a kid of her own, because she knows what it’s like already. Someone older and more mature with a good job. Someone who is nothing like you.
You didn’t even notice that you started crying, but when you come back, your eyes are blurry and your cheeks are sticky with old and new tears.
“Okay,” you say. You try to smile, but your chin is quivering. “I’ll let you know when I’ve thought through everything.”
When you go back to his room to get you things, you give Nari a tiny kiss, and you tell her that you’ll miss her. As you walk past Jeongguk to his front door, he doesn’t try to stop you this time.
You love Jeongguk, you’re sure that you do, but maybe being with him isn’t what's best. Doubt has made a home in your heart, that warmth you long for nowhere to be seen or felt.
~~~~
AYOOOOO don’t scream at me too much, that's not the end lmao but whoa... how’d they go from kissing to crying just like that hmm... also, opinions on the ex wife?? genuinely curious bc i actually dont hate her ?? 🤔 anyway, i hope you liked it, if you did please do all the things~~ please reblog, like, comment, send an ask... very curious about how we feel about this one 🙇🏻‍♀️ thanks for reading and as always i love u, sorry im posting late lol byeeee <3
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kkulmoon · 8 months ago
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get it, let it roll !
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jinconda · 12 days ago
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Hustlers | 1
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masterlist: here
pairing: Jungkook x Reader, (ft. Yoongi)
summary: When Jeongguk's girlfriend, Jihyo is taken by the Daechwita gang, everyone's friendships are tested as Jeongguk does anything in pursuit of getting her back.
not so much a summary: im tired of weak, annoying y/n characters that are helpless and need jk to save them. that being said, reader is an explosive, temperamental, badass. jks girlfriend has the lovely title of being the annoying y/n.
warning: violence, I mean like some serious ass shit, killing left n right, graphic themes, dark themes, swearing
important note: play "nate growing up" by labrinth while reading- I wrote the entire chapter with that one song playing. it gives you that good adrenaline rush. also, very slow for the romance to start, like it will take long. keep it in mind.
pt: ur here | 2
wc: 6.2k
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“They got Jeongguk’s girlfriend,” Yoongi said upon entering through the front door. He shrugged his bomber jacket off and tossed it onto the empty loveseat in the corner. The thump of the material hitting the chair caused you to avert your gaze: Yoongi’s forehead was covered in sweat, his hair spiraled in different directions and within one minute he’d checked his phone six times.
“They got what?”
“His lil girlfriend, y’know the lil goody two shoes he—“
“I fuckin’ know who, I’m asking how the fuck did they get her?” Taehyung stood from the couch, taking out a purple lighter from his back pocket and using it to light the blunt he finished rolling moments ago.
You tilted your head, not really sure why this was exactly your problem. Or why Jeongguk expected you guys to willingly come rescue what he tried to keep so far away from all of you. He never talked about her, and when someone did bring her up he’d tell them to shut the fuck up and expect the subject to be changed without any further questions.
It had become an unspoken rule between the nine of you to completely avoid her presence when she was around. Jeongguk didn’t want any of you near her, which was incredibly fucking ironic since she was around during quite literally everything. There hasn’t been a time within the past eight months where you’d seen Jeongguk without her by his side.
Besides being Jeongguk’s girlfriend all you knew was that her name was Jihyo and she went to an Ivy— at least that’s what Taehyung told you. Jeongguk unwillingly entrusted him in dropping her off one morning, warning him to not speak a word to her or he’d cut his balls off. As usual, Taehyung didn’t give a shit about what Jeongguk told him. So, first thing he did in the car was ask the goody-two-shoes what she was majoring in. Law. She was studying to be a fuckin’ lawyer— how ironic. Taehyung laughed in her face.
“N’ where’s Jeongguk right now?”
Yoongi bent down grabbing the armrest of the loveseat he just threw his jacket on and hauled out the black briefcase you guys kept hidden in case of emergencies. Guess this was an emergency, then. “Going to get her. Joon, Rhea, and Hobi are already there. Seokjin n’ Jimin are waiting for us in the car.”
“Us?”
His hands fiddled with the lock for a moment, sweaty hands fighting the slippery metal. The locks eventually budged and opened with a pop, Yoongi grabbed one of the compact pistols and shoved it into the waistband of his jeans. He grabbed a similar pistol and threw it at Taehyung, who caught it with ease, joint held in place with his lips. His eyes locked onto yours and you raised a brow at him.
“Don’t be difficult,” he warned.
“Tell me why all of us need to be there.”
Yoongi groaned, he knew this was going to happen. When Jeongguk called him and uttered the words “They got her, Yoongs” he knew there was no way around this. They had no other choice, no negotiating, nothing. Jeongguk would fucking kill him if he didn’t haul you and Taehyung to the Daechwita house— pronto.
Truthfully, he didn’t even know Jihyo meant that much to Jeongguk. The first time he brought her to the house— sure, they were all surprised, really fucking surprised. Jeongguk didn’t bring girls to the house. But, that didn’t make her automatically special. Jeongguk could’ve just been high, fucked up, or maybe he didn’t wanna fuck in his car. He doesn’t know the details, never bothered to ask for them. But then he brought her over for a second time, and then a third, and then she was there when they made plans, she was there when they did business.
And Jeongguk was fucking impulsive. They tried to warn him, countless times. This girl wasn’t like you, or Rhea, she didn’t know how shit worked around here. Would she be able to kill someone if they pulled a gun on Jeongguk? Would she snitch to the fuckin’ police? Has she seen Jeongguk kill? Jeongguk didn’t care, didn’t fucking listen. Because to Jeongguk, he knows best, he’s the only one that's always right.
Quite honestly, he could kiss Yoongi’s left ass cheek right now because now they were all fucked. All of them. Jeongguk took her to one of his fights four days ago. One of his underground fights. It was an opening. She was a fucking opening for the rest of you to get fucked, all because Jeongguk was too fucking soft for some girl. He took her in backstage even though Yoongi begged to take her back to campus. No, no. Jeongguk said they’d be good. Because no one fucks with Jeongguk— another lie. Yoongi pushed it, kept persisting that she shouldn’t be allowed in. Then Jeongguk took his gun out, turned the safety off, and pointed it directly at him. Twelve years of friendship almost ended that day, all for a fuckin’ lil girl Jeongguk’s known for one year. Needless to say, Yoongi dropped it.
From what he gathered through Jeongguk’s rushed and rambled words over the phone, someone from Daechwita saw her go into Jeongguk’s dressing room. And just like that, years of hard work down the drain. Yoongi had almost laughed when Jeongguk said it. You’re a fucking idiot, Jeongguk. Not one of you had faltered publicly, shown a weakness. Don’t get him wrong, the other gangs were well aware that you guys could serve as weaknesses for one another, the problem with that is you all weren’t fucking weak. There was never an opening for the other gangs. Now though, there was. She was. She is. Daechwita struck fucking gold that night.
So here he was, annoyed and beyond pissed that his Saturday was now ruined. The one time in a fucking week where he could do whatever he wanted. No business, no drugs, no guns, nothing. He was planning on spending the weekend with his dog, Holly, who was recovering from a broken leg at his nanny. Yes, his dog had a nanny. He hasn’t seen Holly since Sunday, and fuck did he miss his furball. To add the cherry on top, you were starting to piss him off even more. He didn’t need this right now, it was the last fucking thing he needed— especially from you.
“Listen, she hasn’t done shit, she’s innocent, and we—“
“Hasn’t done shit? He pulled a fucking gun on you? Are you—”
“Alright alright, nows not the time to fight over this dumb shit. If we don’t go and something actually happens to her Jeongguk’s gonna kill us all.” Taehyung sighed, taking one last hit off the joint and then smushing it against the ashtray. “Is it ideal? Nah, it’s not. But we don’t have a choice, so grow the fuck up. Both of you,” he tucked the glock into the waistband of his trousers, his favorite pair of white Gucci underwear tugging down as the metal of the gun rubbed against his tanned skin, securing it into place.
You stood up too, adjusting your two favorite guns— a GSR Granite and a PK380— that were secured on either side the holster that hung from your shoulders. “Yeah, yeah, let’s help the princess,” you darted toward the coat rack, careful not to “accidentally” punch Yoongi on the way, and picked up the leather jacket Jeongguk gave you a few years back to hide your holster with. Not to mention it was mid-February and Long Island was cold as fuck, the last thing you wanted was frostbite.
When you swung the door open you could hear Yoongi sigh in relief, followed by him telling Taehyung to shove the suitcase under the loveseat again. You walked down the stairs, careful not to bust your shit on some black ice while simultaneously eyeing Seokjin who sat in the Cadillac SUV, the one you guys specifically used when shit went wrong. He immediately saw you, a tight smile formed on his face. He shook his head slowly. Looks like someone isn’t happy either.
You walked up to the car, grabbing the cold door handle of the backseat but changed your mind last minute to move to the passenger door instead. Fuck Yoongi, I’m getting shotgun.
“Hey!” You heard Yoongi yell from the top of the stairs, you raised your arm into the air and flicked him off, peeking over the hood of the car to make sure he saw. And see he did, you watched him roll his eyes and yell something to Taehyung again.
You slammed the door shut and slumped into the very heated chair, “Damn Jin, you got this thing at a hundred degrees? How is your ass that cold?”
“How badly did he piss you off?” Jimin asked from the backseat, a mischievous smile forming on his face. You shrugged, not bothering to answer but knowing damn well why you did it. Because you were being a petty little shit, because fuck Yoongi right now, and above all, because fuck Jeongguk. Next time you saw him you might actually take him by the balls and rip them right off his fucking body.
You didn’t want to help her. You didn’t feel like it. It was twelve degrees out for fucksake. You and Taehyung were supposed to get high and binge-watch season two of Kingdom on Netflix. Was she innocent and didn’t deserve to be taken against her will? Sure, that you can admit. But, you didn’t know her. Never talked to her. Didn’t care about her. Jeongguk suddenly wants you guys to help her? Possibly talk and actually touch her? Now that it’s convenient to have his “friends” there? The list goes on. You weren’t a complete bitch, though, you were here, weren’t you? That ought to account for something.
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Yoongi didn’t comment on you taking his usual spot. He entered the car, followed by Taehyung and with a quickened pace he immediately dove into a sloppy word vomit. He went over the plan a total of six times before you guys even pulled out of the driveway. Was it a good, well-thought-out plan? Fuck no. Fuck no, it was not. Yoongi had put in about forty minutes of thought into it, thirty of which were immediately after Jeongguk hung up on him— the other ten he thought of while explaining the first thirty to the three of you.
Daechwita was hosting an annual birthday party for their leader, Cha Eunwoo. Not that any of you ever went, with the exception of three years ago. The one and only time you went turned out to be a truly scarring night. Sweaty, gross gang and mafia members all around you. Preying on you. You shuddered at the thought.
Why they would kidnap Jihyo tonight of all nights was beyond you. Your most reasonable conclusion was that there will be civilians, friends— non-gang affiliated individuals present. And who’s evil enough to shoot up a party full of innocent civilians? As of right now, you were eerily close to crossing that line.
Yoongi went over everyone's individual roles too. Jeongguk had notified Eunwoo that Joon, Hobi, and Rhea were coming with him, for safety measures, obviously. He however didn’t mention that the four of you will eventually show up too— no, that had to remain a secret. You and Yoongi would go in through the basement window in the backyard. The house was like twelve-thousand-square feet, so, there was no fucking way anyone would notice one single window shattering.
Taehyung and Jimin would go in through the South-side balcony, climbing their way in. Directly into Cha Eunwoo’s room. You guys didn’t suspect that they hid Jihyo there, but, you weren’t going to take chances in checking the heavily guarded room. Once everyone was in, you’d all signal to Jeongguk, who by that time will already be meeting with Eunwoo and discussing a deal to release her.
Jeongguk was going to kill Eunwoo. You knew it. Yoongi knew it. Everyone knew it. It didn’t need to be said. Jeongguk pulled a gun out on his childhood best friend for her, there was no way he wasn’t plotting to kill Eunwoo. Thats’ right, let your true colors shine, Jeongguk. You wanted the little lawyer to see him, to really see him. Not the fake “I only deal with the business side” fasad he had been showing her.
She hadn’t seen him kill someone, grip their fucking throat until all the air in their lungs depleted and they were left a lifeless corpse, all while he stared into their eyes, never faltering from their dying gaze. One thing about Jeongguk was, he respect anyone deserving of it in their final moments— never looking away from them. To him, it was the least he could do. The business you were all in was tough; people died, whether it was at your hand or not, it was another normal day.
You wondered if she’d cry, if she’d leave him. How she could watch Jeongguk sign off a deal worth one million in narcotics and then go to her fancy Ivy university the next day and pretend to be something she wasn’t. She was a liar— that’s for sure, but, hey, you were too.
The Daechwita mansion was mesmerizing, to put it lightly. It was a traditional Italian mansion, engraved and extravagant old stone. It had two fountains— yes, two separate fountains upon entering the circular driveway. In a way, it resembled the White House- minus the ugly and the legal politics. The front of the house, had about thirty symmetrical windows, fifteen on each side and another thirty in the back. A grand staircase that led to the golden double-entry doors. Daechwita was fucking flashy. A little too much, for your taste.
The problem was, you couldn’t drive in. They knew your faces, and by now, Eunwoo had probably issued a notice to look out for the missing four Bangtan members. So, simply driving in was out of the question. You would have to park outside the metal gates, climb the South-side of the fence and pray that the electricity wasn’t on, and then proceed with the rest of the plan. If the electricity was on, you’d go with Plan B. Kill the two guards in front and sneak in that way. Personally, that was the plan you preferred, the last thing you wanted to do was climb an eight-foot fence and pray you don’t get electrocuted on the way up.
Then again, Plan B had its own flaws. Seokjin would have to stay in the SUV and hack his was into their security camera database. If he managed to get through, that is without notifying any of the Daechwita members, it’d give you guys about thirty to an hour of time before someone would eventually notice the breach. Once they did, it would endanger everyone and possibly get Jihyo killed. Not that the last part mattered to you.
Climbing it is.
Seokjin had parked the car so frantically that you were surprised Jimin and Yoongi hadn’t flown out the back and directly into the front window. “My bad,” he muttered as everyone tried to catch their breath.
“No worries, next time, don’t break too hard,” Taehyung said patting Seokjin’s shoulder then opening the backdoor and being the first to hop out.
Seokjin nodded, embarrassed for letting his nerves get the best of him. Shortly after, you followed Taehyung out of the car, hopping out of it with a huff, until everyone was out. “Fuck that bitch is huge,” Taehyung commented on the top of the mansion peering through the tall bushes. Within the cracks of the bushes, you could see the lights glistening from the home, dancing against the fountain's waters.
“Hell yeah, it is,” Jimin agreed, being the first to start walking toward the towering fence.
It was a short walk, four minutes max if you had to guess. The dread of having to climb the fence was beginning to settle in. Not that you couldn’t do it, you could. But it was fucking huge. Seven feet? Ten? You can’t fucking tell in the darkness. There was a pause, no one uttering a word as you all gazed at the obstacle ahead of you. Fuck it. You weren’t going to sit here and be a crybaby, the longer you stood the farther away episode one of the Kingdom became.
“I’ll do it,” you heard the sighs of relief around you. Fuckers. Jimin even began to laugh, muttering something along the lines of being happy that he was happy he wasn’t the first one to go up. At that moment, you promised yourself that you’d punch him in the gut when this was all over and done with.
The fence had black borders, in it were white engravings that you couldn’t quite make out in the darkness. The fence was separated with a line in the middle, making your job of climbing it, much easier. The white engravings twirled to the top, leaving no pointed edges for one of you to cut yourselves with. Easy. This is going to be easy. You got this. You coached yourself through the waves of anxiety that began to riddle your body.
You wiped your sweaty palms against your pants and ran at the fence. Grabbing the black borders with both of your hands and hoisting yourself upwards. Once you lifted yourself from the ground, your foot lodged itself between one of the twirled engravings. You gave it a push, making sure it wasn’t going to break under the pressure of your weight. It didn’t. You were good.
You repeated the actions until you made it three-fourths to the top. Stopping yourself to examine the curved black border at the top for any electrical wires. It was dark, but you would be able to see the reflection of the wire against the visible moonlight. It didn’t look like there were any wires so, with a final deep breath you grabbed the top of the fence. Fuck. Fuck.
“Zzzzzzzzzz…” You could hear repeated noises coming from the bottom. You were going to kill them, all three of them. Yes. You’d kill them right after you manage to jump this fence. One by one.
“Fucking dicks,” you muttered as you took the final leap across the fence. Once you managed to rotate your body, you flipped them off, smiling proudly at yourself. Ha. Ha. You guys are pussies.
The route down the fence was easier than the one to the top. Not to mention, knowing you weren’t going to die from electricity certainly helped. By the time your feet hit the ground with a thud, the three rabid-infested animals you called your friends had already begun climbing the fence.
“Alright, we needa’ split up,” Yoongi said, landing lightly against the soiled ground.
"Sounds good, send the signal once ya’ll made it,” Taehyung swung his arm around Jimin, ushering him forward. He stopped in his tracks a few seconds later and looked back to you and Yoongi, “and please be safe. I don’t wanna have to finish Kingdom by myself.”
Taehyung’s smile didn’t meet his eyes. The severity of this mission hadn’t settled onto any of you, yet. You guys were like lambs in a house full of wolves. Nine against what— fifty, hundred? You know Taehyung didn’t mean to get sentimental, but, the fear was always there. Especially now. You nodded smiled at him, sending him and Jimin off with a wave and thumbs up.
You turned to Yoongi, who had his lips caught in-between his teeth, “Listen, I-“
“Not now, Yoongs. We’ll talk about it at home,” you grabbed his shoulder, squeezing it gently and telling him you two should get going.
The walk to the back-end of the mansion was long. Long as fuck. Who needs this much fucking space for a house? Not you, that's for sure. They probably haven’t explored every room the mansion had, no way. Who knows how many rooms there were, fifteen? Twenty? Thirty? One for every window? Not to mention, it was almost below freezing and if you and Yoongi didn’t hurry the fuck up and get there in five minutes you both might die from hypothermia.
“My ass cheeks are freezing,” Yoongi muttered from behind you.
If you weren’t on the brink of death, you would’ve laughed. The both of you were crouching slightly, enough to be able to run through the tall bushes without being spotted by the guards while simultaneously hiding. The first few minutes were fine, you both ran effortlessly, at ease, you were one with the wind— or whatever track athletes say to convince themselves they enjoy running. But then, the cold began to pinch at your throat, then your lungs. About halfway there, Yoongi said he couldn’t feel his fingers anymore and you couldn’t either. And right now, your toes were beginning to give out. You couldn’t feel them anymore, the tightness of your combat boots might actually be killing you. Fuck Jeongguk for recommending these to you, and fuck Prada.
You approached the end of the bushes, out of breath and shaking from the cold. You peered over the corner of the bush to check if you could spot anyone— anything. Clear. Fuck yes, the coast was clear. You sighed in relief and gave Yoongi the go.
Whatever energy he had left, Yoongi mustered it from the pits of his soul and ran toward the backside of the house, grabbing a stone on his way over and shattering the glass of the window with so much force he temporarily paralyzed himself from the sheer shock. You peered the corner once more, making sure no one was approaching the side of the house from the sound of the glass shattering.
No one, again. Fuck was this your lucky day. Thank you universe, you mighty, beautiful, ball of matter. You followed Yoongi’s path, when you turned the corner, you saw him kicking the remainder of the glass to ensure you both didn’t cut yourselves on the way in. Diiiing. A vibration in your jacket. You take your phone out, wincing at the brightness you forgot to turn down, and read the notification.
tae: we’re in, this guy has a sick obsession with hentai
hobi: be safe. also wtf? eunwoo wanted jk alone so we’re outside some weird fuckin door in the basement, should be a backdoor so try to go through there.
hobi: ps dont text too much theyre gonna start tweaking
hobi: also they took all of our shit, we have nothing
Hentai? Eunwoo likes hentai? What the fuck? They don’t have weapons? Fuck. Fuuuuuuck. This was going to be a bitch. “Hobi gave us the go. They’re somewhere down here, let’s hope they didn’t hear that,” your eyes avert to the broken window.
Yoongi nodded, bending down and swinging his legs through the window. “This is small as fuck,” he ushers his body through the tight space, wincing as his body accidentally grinds against fragments of broken glass. Although you knew his jacket was taking most of the heat, rather than his body you still cringe at the sight.
Yoongi hopped onto the floor with a groan, checking the surroundings for any loose Daechwita members. He then popped his head through the frame and gave you the stupid smile you adored so much. You shoved your phone back into your jacket and bent down, one hand planted against the wet grass while the other grabbed the rough brick wall. You placed both of your feet through the frame and slowly slithered in. About halfway in Yoongi grabbed your waist, whispering, “I got you,” and aiding you onto the floor. Once your feet safely touched the floor you thanked him, telling him he just wanted an excuse to touch you. Yoongi rolled his eyes at the comment, his cheeks, however, shined a bright pink. Cute.
“Did Hoseok say where they were exactly?” You shook your head, taking out your phone and checking Hoseok’s message once more, “we’re outside some weird fuckin door in the basement.” Well, that wasn’t helpful. Pretty useless actually, besides the basement part.
“Nope. Weird door and basement, that's it,” You flipped your phone so that the lit screen faced Yoongi. He scrunched his nose and squinted at it, eyes following the text of Hoseok’s message. He hummed and turned away from you, dismissing you. He lifted his jacket and shirt in a swift motion and grabbed the pistol, bouncing it in his hand a few times to adjust to the weight of it.
You did the same, lifting the side with the zipper of your jacket and grabbing one of the Italian Stiletto Knives you kept hidden in a pocket on the holster. If shit hit the fan you’d take out your gun, until then, you can’t go guns blazing and make a ruckus. Knives will do.
Yoongi peeked over the corner, then he quickly retreated back in. His eyes jumped around eventually settling on your confused gaze, “Two of em’. Once I go, you follow. Get the one on the left, just knock him out,” you nodded at the command, watching Yoongi twist around the wall to check again.
His hand lifted upwards, motioning for you to follow. You crouched down and followed him out of the room. The two guards were walking towards the end of the hall, backs faced to you both. It was a few seconds of you both crouching until you lunged forward and pressed your knife against the guy's throat, not enough to slit it, but enough so he got the memo, your other hand covered his mouth. He stuttered, trying his best to bend his back forward and flip you over. You kept your feet planted against the concrete restricting him from doing exactly that. You moved your hand that held the knife so that your arm could swing around his throat, snuggling it like a snake would to its prey. You kept the knife close to his ear, just in case. You looped your hand through the opening of the one that held his mouth and tightened your grasp, not enough to kill him. He struggled in your grasp, arms flailing, trying their best to grab you in any way possible. Two minutes later, he passed out.
You placed his limp body against the wall, upright, then turned to Yoongi who had copied you, the other man laid in the same position as the one you knocked out. Neither of you spoke. You couldn’t. There could be another two, or however many guards around the corner. Body language it is. Yoongi was breathing heavily, gun held tightly with his slender fingers. He tilted his head to the right, motioning toward the end of the hallway.
You nodded, creeping your way toward the end of the hall. You paused, allowing your ears to do what they evolved to do. Nothing. You relaxed, pressing your back against the wall and peeking over the wall. Nothing. Just moldy grey, almost black walls, but no bodies in sight. You used your left hand to shoot Yoongi a thumbs up and proceeded down the dark hallway.
This hallway split into two. One, from what you could see lead to a dead end with a simple vent in the middle of it, the other, a bit further was still unknown. You moved up the hallway, telling Yoongi to start unscrewing the vent in case, and pressed your body again the wet wall, repeating the same actions. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
How many is that? Six? Seven? Ten? Probably more that you couldn't see. Your eyes dart over the Daechwita members. You could see the black and gold jackets from here, the way the gold symbol of their gang, a dragon, shined against the white bulbs that hung from the ceiling. You kept looking around, until a figure cut the corner, looking into your direction. You held your breath, not quick enough to retreat, your eyes met the strangers. Hoseok. Hoseok. Oh fuck. Hoseok’s right there.
You retreated knowing you couldn’t stare at him too long. The Daechwita’s could get suspicious and look your way. Jackpot. If Hoseok was here, it meant Jeongguk was too. You ran back to Yoongi, who had unscrewed the vent and placed it next to him. “Let me guess.”
“I just saw Hobi, we’re close. But we’re also gonna,” you crouched down, looking into the dark vent, “have to go in there.”
Yoongi bit his bottom lip, fiddling with the flesh. Contemplating if it was worth going into the vent. Logically, they couldn’t just barge into the hallway and gun everyone down. You guys didn’t know how many of them there were, or if Jeongguk and Jihyo were safe with Eunwoo. You didn’t know anything. So yes— vent it is.
“I’m going to puke,” you sat on your knees. It reeked of weed and from what you could tell— shit. Real shit. Yoongi gave you a pat on the ass and whispered good luck.
“You have to go in too, y’know.”
You looked back to Yoongi, who was smirking directly at— your ass. No shit he was enjoying this, if you got to stare at your ass, you’d be enjoying it too. He nodded, “I know, I’m just going to be enjoying my view on the way.”
Idiot. You rolled your eyes, ignoring the heat forming on your face. You placed both palms against the cold, slimy surface and trudged forward, doing your best to keep the bile down while limiting your breathing as much as possible. The vents were hot, despite the cold metal. You figured it would be hot, mid-winter and all.
As you crawled forward, you heard Yoongi enter the vent behind you. Heavy steps reassured you of his presence. Left. Straight. Right. Another left. There you are. “You know what I fucking want.” You immediately recognized the voice— you could never forget Eunwoo’s sweet, sweet voice.
A pause.
You ushered forward, doing your best to see something, anything through the cracks of the vent. From what you could make out, you and Yoongi were on the right corner of the room. Jeongguk was sitting on a couch in front of you while Eunwoo sat on the other one, Jihyo by his side. Hoseok had told you guys in his text that they didn’t have weapons. That, however, didn't mean Eunwoo didn't have a gun hidden on him.
“What is that, Eunwoo?” Jeongguk spoke, leaning forward, pressing his arms against his thighs and tilting his head at Eunwoo. He was testing him.
“Don’t play with me, Jeongguk. I’ll kill her,” Eunwoo smiled, index finger grazing over Jihyo’s cheek. You could see the tears, the fear on her face when Eunwoo touched her. For a moment, you felt bad for the girl. Sad that she had to go through this. But, she knew the price of being with someone like Jeongguk. Now’s she’s just paying for it.
Jeongguk’s hand twitched, you caught it. He was trying his best to not leap over the couch and strangle that fucker with his bare fucking hands. “__.”
You blinked. Unsure if you heard the name correctly. You? What the fuck would Eunwoo want with you? Jeongguk would never. He would never give you up this easily for a mere girl. Someone he hasn’t even known for a year. You’ve known him for a decade. There was no fucking way. No. No. No. He wouldn’t do that to you.
“What else?”
Huh?
Else?
Jeongguk’s gaze didn’t move from Jihyo’s. At that moment, you realized he would give you up. He’d give you up if it meant he could have her back. Anger. Nothing else besides anger surged through your body. You shoved the knife back into the holster and grabbed your gun. Something touched your calve, causing you to flinch.
Fuck, Yoongi was here. He was gripping your calve, stopping you from breaking the vent and shooting Jeongguk in the face. “Breathe, baby, breathe,” his hand rubbed your back. He heard it, too. He almost wish he hadn’t. The way Jeongguk so effortlessly grazed past giving you up and onto whatever else Eunwoo wanted. Typically, Yoongi knew Jeongguk would use rather, sporadic means of plans if it meant it’d get the job done. He knew they were all hear-say, that Jeongguk would never actually betray any of you. This, however, Yoongi wasn’t so sure about.
“And 60 million. I know you’ll pay it.”
“Deal.”
You were going to strangle Yoongi if he didn’t let go of your calve. Deal? What fucking deal? He was going to give you up for some lawyer bitch? Some bitch that will rat him out once she’s done with college? Once her high of drug-lord mafia romance fantasy was over? You were seeing red. This was unforgivable, you’ll never forgive him.
“Hand her over, Cha,” Jeongguk rose from the couch and pointed to Jihyo.
“Not so fast, buddy. You give me, __. I give you your little plaything back.” Jeongguk’s hand balled into a fist. You secretly hoped Eunwoo sliced her throat, let the blood spill in front of Jeongguk. Watch his face squeeze into pain as he watched his lover die. You’d love that.
“They’re already here, I sent them a notice right after Mark called me.”
A setup? Was this a fucking set-up? Did he know that Eunwoo would want you? Had he planned to give you up when he called Yoongi? This wasn’t the Jeongguk you knew. No.
Jeongguk ran his hand through his hair, “I’ll call her now. Let her know you gave me Jihyo and,” his hand fell to his side, he pondered for a moment, like he couldn’t believe what he was about to say, “then you can have her.”
Jeongguk took his phone out of his hoodie, shuffling through his contacts until he eventually found your name. You saw the hesitation. It was there, for a split second. Until he pressed your contact info and your phone buzzed in your jacket pocket. Oh my god. Oh my fucking god.
The world stilled, you slowly grabbed your phone, tugging it out of your jacket and in front of you. The photo of you and Jeongguk as teenagers smiling at the camera, cheeks smushed against one another. You declined the call. All eyes fell onto the vent. Your cover was blown. This was it. You didn’t look back to see Yoongi’s expression, instead, you rotated your body until your legs were facing the vent, then, you kicked. Kicked fucking hard. The metal cover of the vent flew forward, exposing you and Yoongi.
It felt like a blur like you weren’t the one in control of your body. You kicked the vent, got up, avoided Jeongguk immediately, and turned to Eunwoo, not giving him the chance to take out his hidden gun before putting a bullet in each of his thighs. You spit in his face, avoiding his screams, and grabbed his hair, roughly turning his head upwards, “Be glad I didn’t shoot your cock off.”
You let go of Eunwoo’s hair and lifted his suit blazer, revealing a holster similar to yours with two pistols, you grabbed them both. “Yoongi, kill everyone outside,” you turned to him, throwing both pistols at him. He shoved his gun into his waistband and caught both of the guns, immediately nodding and shoving the door open.
“Eunwoo! No fuckin’ way, you killed that fuck—“
One. Two. The guy fell to the ground.
Yoongi gave Hoseok the first gun, throwing the other at Namjoon who sat in the corner, and briefly apologized to Rhea for not having a third. He then took out his own and for the first time tonight— he felt relaxed, in control.
You faced Jeongguk and for the first time in ten years, you saw fear. Fear that was directed at you. He knew you heard what he said, heard him fuck up. And he was fucking scared, scared because in so many ways you were a direct reflection of himself. Chaotic, lost to anger, all of it. And right now, you looked at him with so much anger and hatred in your eyes he feared for his life. He feared for Jihyo’s life.
You didn’t shoot him. “If I see her again, I’ll kill her. I’m not fucking kidding.”
You didn’t acknowledge her. She was a mere memory in your world, one that you would make sure you’ll never see again. Jeongguk looked at you with hurt eyes, you knew he loved her. He cared for her. For the first proper time in his life, he loved someone romantically. Cherished them.
What Jeongguk did tonight was unforgivable. He betrayed you. That, you’ll never forget.
You walked out of the room, ignoring Eunwoo’s screams of pain and the way Jeongguk’s expression tugged at your heart. Fuck you, Jihyo. You grabbed the PK380 and shot the first Daechwita member you saw.
1K notes · View notes
kithtaehyung · 8 months ago
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BTS PRESENTS. . . BUTTER : MAY 21ST
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hobeemin · 2 months ago
Text
of bane & roses
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genre: smut, pwp, romance, supernatural au, hybrid au
pairing: werewolf!jeon jungkook x nurse!(f) oc
rating: 18+
warning(s): swearing, violence, biting, scratching, fighting, blood, scars, injuries, pining, knotting, praise kink, scenting, masturbation, clit spanking, pussy/cock worship, begging, exhibitionism, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, unprotected sex, penetrative sex
word count: 7.2k
credits: a HUGE thank you to @joyfulhopelox​! Thank you Maria for looking this over and giving me great feedback 💜💜💜
resources for banner found here ~ 1, 2, 3
a/n:
Pleasure Hollows⁂ Hosted by: Professor Kat through @bangtansorciere
⤐ AU Type: coven (roommates to lovers au)
⤐ Themes: werewolves/hybrids, mutual pining
⤐ Kinks: knotting, praise kink, scenting, masturbation, clit spanking, pussy/cock worship, begging, exhibitionism 
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“Damn it!”
“Language.”
Big doe-like eyes shot her a pouty look but were ignored as she busied herself blotting the disinfectant on the laceration on his arm. He was covered in cuts and bruises, but at first glance, this happened to be the worst of it.
“You’re lucky this wasn’t any deeper otherwise you would have needed stitches,” she scolded.
He winced, looking away, trying to make light of the situation. “It’s not that bad.”
“Oh really?” She shot him a look that wiped the smirk off his face. “Do we need to go over the other injuries you’ve sustained?”
“No,” he muttered, and his cheeks reddened. 
“That’s what I thought.”
She swiped some antibacterial ointment over the wound, covered it with gauze, and wrapped it with adhesive tape. “Alright, I’m done.”
A smile spread on his face. “Thanks, Devon.”
“You’re welcome, Jungkook, yet again,” she answered flatly.
He frowned, rubbing the back of his head. “Ouch. Harsh.”
Devon snorted as she put her supplies back in the medical bag. “You need it, Kook. How many times have I patched you up with no explanation?”
“I told you I–”
“Yeah yeah. I’m over the excuses,” she interrupted, rising from her seat. She played with the necklace around her neck to distract herself. Guilt immediately took over as she glanced back at him. Even though he towered over her by at least six inches, he seemed so small right now. She huffed and turned to face him, noticing the bruise near his temple. She brushed back his bangs assessing it.
“Does it hurt?”
“Not really,” he answered.
Devon clicked her tongue. She pressed around the bruise until he made what sounded like a whine. “You could have a concussion.”
He pushed her hand away as he curled up on the couch. “I’m fine. Nothing that some sleep won’t cure.”
Devon narrowed her eyes as he started to yawn. She rolled her eyes and stormed off to her room.
“Fine. See if I care,” she grumbled, slamming the door behind her. 
This was not the way she wanted to end the evening. It seemed like no matter what, Jungkook caused her more stress. She was already dealing with enough at the hospital. Still annoyed, she took off her scrubs and walked into the adjoining bathroom. As Devon stepped into the shower, her mind wandered back to her problematic roommate. 
He’s given her nothing but stress, since day one.
---
“I can’t believe the night we had! What is it with full moons? All the crazies come out.”
Devon glanced at her co-worker, adjusting her bag as they walked out of the hospital. She waved to the security guard as they headed to the parking lot. “Hobi, it wasn’t that bad.”
He let out a short laugh shaking his head. “Did we work the same shift? I’m pretty sure those patients from that fire at that frat house say otherwise.”
Devon sighed as she fished her keys out. “Good point. It got to a certain moment when everything meshed for me.”
“Lucky you,” Hobi muttered as they walked on. They reached her car, and he leaned against her hood, yawning with a stretch. “I plan to pass out for the next few days. After doing four back-to-back 12s, I’m dead.”
Devon chuckled. “Lucky you, I got one more shift on Saturday. I shouldn’t have switched with Jimin.”
Hobi snorted, giving her a poke. “Your fault. But look at it this way, at least he stopped hitting on you–”
Devon held her hand out, looking into the darkness. She frowned, stepping forward. “You hear that, Hobi?”
A groan cut into the darkness, and he pointed in the direction. “I think it’s coming from over there.”
They ran over, listening for any more sounds to pinpoint the location. Devon looked around the cars until she saw a hand on the ground. “Hoseok! Over here!”
He ran over to see her kneeling by a man leaning on the fence. Devon shook his leg gently. “Sir? Sir, are you okay? Do you need any help?”
Hobi glanced over the injured man. “He looks pretty beat up, Devon.”
She could see the numerous cuts and bruises littered all over his face and hands—barefoot and torn clothing.
“You think it was a mugging?”
“Maybe,” she answered. She noticed him holding his side. He was still out of it, breathing erratically. She lifted his jacket and her eyes widened.
“Oh shit.”
“What?”
She pointed at his side. Blood seeped from deep gashes along his chest. “Fuck. We need to get him to the hospital.”
“N-No hospitals.”
They jumped as the male finally spoke. It was barely above a whisper but his voice rang clear. To their surprise, he tried to stand only for Hoseok to push him back down. “Bad idea, man. You’re seriously injured. We can’t have you moving around on your own. We need to get you checked out and call the cops–”
“No!” His eyes opened as he wiggled out from under Hoseok’s hand. “No!”
Devon’s lips pursed as she poked the man in the arm. “We’re trying to help you! We’re both nurses at that hospital.”
He shook his head again. “No!” He winced as a surge of pain went through him and fell back against the fence post. 
She clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Your ribs could be broken. Let us help you.”
Hobi sighed as he made eye contact with her. “We can’t force anyone for medical health.”
“I-I know,” she bit her bottom lip. An idea popped into her head. She had a feeling Hobi would hate, but it was worth a shot. “How about I take him home?”
“Have you lost your mind?!”
Yep. Hobi hated the idea.
Devon gave him her infamous puppy dog eyes as Hobi tried to fight it off. The next thing he knew, he was helping her carry the man to her car. Mumbling angrily, he pushed him into the backseat with a grunt. “You owe me bigtime, Devon.”
“I have a feeling you’re not gonna let me live this down.”
“Ya think?”
She exhaled and poked her head into the backseat. The man’s breathing was still irregular, but his eyes were open. “I’m taking you back to my place to fix you up. Can you tell me your name?”
He lifted his head as he shifted his position. “J-Jeon Jungkook.”
Devon smiled for the first time that night. “Nice to meet you, Jeon Jungkook. I’m Devon Lewis.”
---
After that fateful day, Jungkook would seek out Devon whenever he had any injuries. True to her word, she never reported anything to the hospital or the authorities. He was an MMA fighter, insisting they were rough fights. As repayment, he would help do odd jobs around her apartment, until he eventually moved in. He was quiet, minus those random nights of his tournaments, and that suited her just fine.
She grumbled to herself, putting on a long nightshirt and her bonnet, and climbed into bed after the well-deserved shower. Nothing but stress. He was going to be the death of her. She shook her head in disappointment and snuggled into her covers.
“Fucking Jeon Jungkook.”
The smell of bacon and eggs invaded her nostrils and roused herself awake. Rubbing her eyes, she slipped out of bed putting on her slippers and walked into the living room. To her surprise, Jungkook was in the kitchen...cooking.
He hummed to himself as he flipped the bacon in the skillet. He turned to put it on the plate when he saw her standing by the counter. Jungkook grinned, giving her his famous bunny smile.
“Morning, Dee!”
She frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “You seem chipper today.”
He nodded with a hum as he fixed her a plate and slid it across the counter towards her. “I feel great. Thanks again.”
She grunted and sank into the chair, grabbing a fork and stabbing at the eggs. He joined her moments later, setting a large mug of coffee down near her. He winked before he started shoveling food into his mouth. Devon’s lips thinned as she stared at the food on her plate. With a huff, she threw her fork down.
“Damn it, Jungkook!”
He dropped his fork in surprise. “What’s wrong?”
She rounded on him, glaring. “How can you be so blasé about everything?! You almost died last night!”
His shoulders dropped as he looked down at his hand, studying the dark lines etched into his skin. “Why are you making it a big deal? I’m fine. See–” he pointed to the bruise that was on his head. It was faded. Yet again, the notion of his injuries healing so fast left Devon stumped.
“I told you I got strong antibodies. I heal fast. Always have.”
“I don't want anything to happen to you,” she muttered.
Jungkook reached over and squeezed her hand. “I promise I’m alright.” He scooted closer and nuzzled against her hair making her roll her eyes. “You’re my guardian angel Devon – always have been.”
That still didn’t seem to calm her mood. Jungkook continued to eat in silence, oblivious to the looks Devon shot him. She worried about him more than she let on. These MMA fights were getting out of hand. 
What if he comes back with serious injuries and I can’t help him?
She shook the feeling away, deciding she’d at least eat the breakfast he made. A rare occurrence indeed. Maybe he was trying to get on her good side. It was working. She was pretty shocked to see how well he did with cooking. Didn’t taste bad at all. Jungkook stretched his limbs and patted his stomach.
“Ah, I’m full.”
Devon’s eye zoomed down while Jungkook stretched. His shirt lifted, showing off the well-toned muscle definition.
Damn.
She looked away as the heat bloomed from her cheeks. “Heading out?”
“Yeah, gonna go to the gym for a bit.”
“I’ll clean up. Go on and do your workout.”
He picked his plate, set it in the sink, and ran over to Devon, engulfing her in his arms. He kissed her forehead with a smile. “You’re the best, Dee. I’ll see you later!”
Devon didn’t have time to say anything as Jungkook grabbed his bag and ran out the door. Once she heard it close shut, she got up from her seat and started to clean up the kitchen. 
As she washed one o` the bowls, her mind wandered to Jungkook. When did he become so good-looking? She frowned, rinsing out the bowl under the hot water. So inappropriate. He was her roommate. Let alone the fact that she was older than him.
It’s only by three years.
Not helping.
Muttering to herself, she scrubbed at the pan angrily. The last thing Devon needed was a distraction. There were much more important things going on in her life than daydreaming about Jungkook.
But those muscles…
“Fuck!”
She threw the sponge down, breathing hard. Why these thoughts all of a sudden? She’s never looked at him in that way before. He was her adorable, sometimes aggravating roommate.
Who also came home with life-threatening injuries.
Okay. Good point. 
Devon distracted herself with cleaning the rest of the kitchen. Once she finished, she went into her room and freshened up. Shaking her curls from under her bonnet, Devon put on a tank top and yoga shorts. She went back into the living room and plopped down on the couch. Her shift didn’t start until eleven in the evening, so she occupied her time paying bills and getting some reading done.
A few hours later, Jungkook walked in, tossing his bag near the door, as he kicked off his shoes. He noticed Devon fast asleep on the couch, laptop open, and a book covering her face. He smiled fondly and tip-toed over. 
“Dee? Dee?”
When she didn’t respond, Jungkook walked over to the throw blanket draped over one of the armchairs and brought it over. He covered her with care and made his way to his bedroom, being mindful not to disturb her. Closing the door to his room, he stretched, looking in the mirror. Gazing at his reflection, he frowned.
“Yeah. I need to shower.”
The sweat from his workout made his shirt stick to his body and was becoming uncomfortable. Tossing the shirt towards the hamper against the wall, he ran his fingers over the numerous scars etched over his chest and torso. He frowned, feeling the raised skin. Any of these could have been fatal if it hadn’t been for Devon.
He closed his eyes, dropping his head.
“Just one more night, and it’s over.”
His phone rang, shaking him from his thoughts. Glancing at the number on the screen darkened his mood. With a scowl, he answered with a growl.
“What?”
“How rude. I thought you would be happy to hear from me.”
“You thought wrong. What do you want?”
“You’re up tonight.”
Jungkook’s brows knitted in frustration. “Why? My last fight finished. I’m done.”
“I say when you’re done. I expect you to be at the usual place before then.”
“This wasn’t part of our agreement,” he protested.
“Ah, young pup, that’s where you’re wrong. I make the rules; you follow them. Either show up, or things get messy.”
“You can’t do this!”
“I can, and I will. Besides, you don’t want anything to happen to that little nurse, do you?”
Jungkook’s face paled. How had they found out about Devon? His hand trembled, holding his phone. “Keep her out of this.”
“Then do as you’re told. See you tonight.”
The line went dead. Jungkook sank to his bed, dropping his phone as he fell back onto the pillows. What could he do? Worry crossed his face. He didn’t have much of a choice when it came down to it. He’d do anything to keep Devon safe. The guilt already ate at him for all the times he came home hurt and needed her help. Sometimes he felt like he was using her. 
But you care about her.
He shook the thoughts aside.
No, that would be bad. Getting involved with her would only complicate things. Friends only. He sighed and began to prepare for the night ahead.
Devon didn’t wake until the alarm on her phone went off. She jumped off the couch with a start as the book slid off her face. Looking around in a panic, she finally calmed once she saw the time. With a deep breath, she got up, noticing the blanket as well. She raised her brow, looking around.
“Jungkook, you home?”
His door was closed, and she shrugged, going back to her room to get ready for work. She found her scrubs and changed quickly. Just as she walked out of her room, Jungkook exited his room, carrying his duffel bag. He jumped in surprise, seeing her there.
“D-Devon! What are you doing here?”
She set her bag on the couch, giving him a strange look. “I live here, Kook.”
He chuckled as he bounced on his heels nervously. “Yeah. I know that, but I thought you left for work.”
“Um, dude, you know I get coffee with Hobi before our shift. He’s picking me up today.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Where you headed? I thought you went to work out already.” Frowning, she pointed to his bag and state of dress.
Jungkook tugged on his hair, placing it behind his ears. “Got a match.”
Genuine disappointment etched on her face. “You didn’t tell me you had a match. I would have come!”
“Eh, it was last minute,” he muttered, glancing down at his watch.
Devon felt a slight pang of hurt hit her stomach just as the sensor at the door chimed, signaling that someone was at the front door. Her phone went off at the same time, showing a text from Hoseok. She grabbed her bag and headed towards the door. She turned toward Jungkook as he paced in the living room.
“Well, I hope you win.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, distracted in his thoughts.
Jungkook didn’t hear the door close as Devon left. He stared at his phone with intense concentration. Soon he’d get a message with the address. The phone vibrated on the table. With shaky hands, he pressed the button to open up the text.
: Warehouse District, meat packing building :
Devon sat down in the coffee shop, lost in thought. Hoseok walked over to their table, holding both their drinks. He waved his hand in front of her face with a pout.
“Hello? Earth to Dee. Your latte’s gonna get cold.”
She blinked a few times and smiled. “Sorry, Hobi.”
“You alright? You seemed a little down when you got in my car,” he replied.
She sighed deeply, taking a sip of her drink. “I don’t know. Jungkook is being weird.”
“More than usual?”
“Uh-huh. Just felt off. I don’t know how to explain it...he seemed unnerved.”
“That doesn’t sound like him,” Hoseok commented. “Maybe he’s just nervous about the match. He’ll be back to his normal self in no time.”
They chatted some more; Hoseok mostly complained about the schedule they had and their cranky boss. Devon listened and laughed when needed, but she still couldn’t shake the anxious feeling she had about Jungkook. As they walked out to his car, something caught her eye. She saw Jungkook standing on the corner across the street. 
I recognize that face anywhere.
As soon as she tried to call out to him, a van pulled up next to him, and he jumped in. “Um, Hosoek.”
“Hmm?”
“Go on without me. I just remembered something.”
His lips turned downward. “But we start our shift in half an hour.”
“Cover for me, please,” she asked with a pout and puppy dog eyes.
“Damn it. Alright, but you owe big time.”
“You’re the best,” she ran off with a wave. Her eyes darted down the street. The van had stopped at a traffic light, and she hailed down a cab. 
“Where to?” the driver inquired.
“See that van with the stickers on the bumper?”
“Yep.”
“Follow it.”
“Lady, I don’t follow cars, just addresses,” he argued.
“I’ll give you $100 if you do it.”
The silence seemed like a good indication that he agreed. Sure enough, he turned off the taximeter, put the gear shift in drive, and took off after the van. Devon watched as the city setting changed from midtown to industrial. Her brows furrowed once she noticed they headed to the warehouse district. Most of the buildings were abandoned as businesses lost money throughout the years—forgotten ventures left this part of the city an industrial wasteland.
They came across the van parked in front of a dilapidated meatpacking plant. The cab stopped a few feet away.
“Here we are.”
Devon held her end of the bargain, fishing out a hundred-dollar bill, she handed it to him. “Thanks again,” she said, getting out of the car. The driver waved her off as he drove away, leaving her alone in the quiet of the street. She rubbed her arms as the chill caught up with her. 
“Maybe I should have worn a warmer jacket,” she muttered to herself, staring at the building. It was now or never.
Gathering some courage, she crossed the street, searching for an entrance. Voices grew louder, and she hid behind the van. Two large men walked out of a side door and leaned on the side of the building all the while one lit up a cigarette.
“Ready for the fight?”
“Always. Got some decent competition tonight.”
“I’ll say. Even that young pup is here.”
One of them smirked with a shake of his head. “He doesn’t know what to expect.”
“He better hope Cash doesn’t murder him tonight.”
The man closest to Devon’s hiding spot threw the cigarette butt down, and the two men walked back into the building. She ran out once the coast was clear and headed to the door. Not wanting to be discovered, she saw a broken window above the dumpster. She used the leverage of a box to jump up on it. Covering her hands from the glass, Devon hoisted herself through the window. Luckily it wasn’t a far drop. Looking around, the hanging fluorescent lights flickered, casting shadows. Devon strained her ears, listening to any indication of people. Being mindful of her steps, she tip-toed towards the middle of the building. As she got closer to the central part of the building, the shouts grew louder. She covered her mouth and nose as a stench smacked her across the face.
I know that smell anywhere!
The metallic scent of blood filled the air, mixed with body odor. There was another smell as well, almost similar to a wet dog. Devon frowned as she got closer. Wanting a better look, she noticed a staircase that led up to the rafters. Devon took the steps slowly, worried the rusty metal would give away her presence. Fortunately for her, the railing was tall enough to hide behind but had openings to see out onto the factory floor. Her eyes widened at the sight before her. A chain-linked dome was constructed in the middle of the floor. Under it, was a circular ring. Her stomach churned at the dried blood smeared on the mat. At least fifty men surrounded the dome, screaming and shaking the chains. A man entered the ring covered in tattoos and wearing leather.
“That last match was a close one! I hope you dogs are still bloodthirsty for more.”
The men cheered all around as the man grinned, a glint of madness behind his eyes. “Next up, we have our reigning champ, Cash!”
The crowd went wild as a large, muscular man stepped into the ring. His head was shaved with an intricate design etched into the skin. He was shirtless and wore a pair of black basketball shorts. The announcer pointed to the opposite side with a sneer.
“Next up, our contender for the evening, the golden pup himself, Jeon Jungkook!”
Devon’s eyes widened like saucers as her mouth dropped. A combination of cheers and jeers rang out as the young man entered. Jungkook’s eyes darted around before removing his shirt and coming to the middle of the ring.
The announcer sneered at the two fighters. “Remember, there are no rules. The bloodier, the better. Make sure to not kill each other too early in the fight.”
An attendant locked the cage, and a bell rang in the distance signalling the start of the fight. Jungkook and Cash paced the ring, eyeing each other down. Cash faked out, trying to unnerve Jungkook, but he held his ground. The announcer stepped out of the ring and gave the nod.
“You better hope for a quick death, pup.”
Jungkook snarled as his eyes narrowed. He bared his teeth at his opponent. “We’ll see about that.”
The two men ran at each other head-on. As Jungkook ran forward to swing a left punch, Cash grabbed his fist and twisted it around. The bone cracked instantly, and Jungkook’s screams echoed through the arena. The sound almost deafened her ears. She watched in horror as Jungkook’s arm bent at a weird angle. He whimpered, jumping back against the chains. Staring hard at Cash, Jungkook grabbed ahold of the limb and straightened it out. Devon’s jaw dropped to the ground.
What the fuck.
Wanting to return the favor, Jungkook attacked Cash with a barrage of punches, one slamming into his kidneys. The older male gasped as he doubled over in pain, the wind knocked out of him. He noticed blood coating his hand, and he looked up at the younger male. Jungkook smirked, raising his hand to show claws.
The announcer chuckled into the microphone. “Well, things are starting to heat up, but why don’t we take it up a notch.”
The crowd around stopped shaking the chains and threw their heads up, letting out a resounding howl. Devon covered her ears as to her horror; something unexpected began to happen. Jungkook and Cash fell to the floor, shaking. Jungkook tried to get to his feet, but his legs gave out. He let out a scream as his body began to twist and bend in obtuse angles. Before her eyes, pitch-black fur sprouted all over his body. His limbs and head contorted as they shifted into something only found in nightmares. The sound of bones breaking and reconnecting rang out in the building. 
Once it was over, two giant wolves stood on their hind legs: one black, another auburn.
“Oh my–”
The announcer grinned looking at the two wolves. “Jungkook–” the black wolf snorted. “Cash–” the auburn-colored wolf barked out, “Let the Blood match begin!”
The wolves growled, baring their fangs at one another. Jungkook was slightly taller than Cash but leaner.  Cash snapped his jaws at Jungkook, trying to catch him off guard. Jungkook avoided the bite by digging his claws into his thigh. The wolf howled in pain, trying to shake him off. Jungkook kicked his legs from underneath him and grabbed Cash by the throat. Cash struggled in his grasp, whining as the pressure began to suffocate him. The crowd grew restless, angry that Jungkook could get the upper hand. 
The announcer met Jungkook’s eyes and gave him a wink. Jungkook blinked in understanding and bit down on Cash’s throat crushing his windpipe. The wolf instantly stopped moving. Jungkook opened his jaws, letting the dead wolf fall to the ground with a thud. 
The crowd roared as the ring shook with bloodthirsty screams. The announcer ran in, raising his arm in the air. Slowly Jungkook transformed back into his human form, cuts, and bruises littering his body. His hair damp from the sweat, stuck to his neck and forehead.
“We have a new champion! Jeon Jungkook!”
He held his side and exited the ring going off to the locker room.
Devon scrambled up from her hiding place, trying to get away. What had she just seen? In her frenzy, the chain on her necklace broke and dropped from her spot and landed just as Jungkook walked by. His eyes zoomed in on the faint white gold. He recognized that necklace anywhere.
Devon
Fear crossed his face as he looked around. She couldn’t have been here. Taking off, he ran out of the building. Honing his senses, he smelled the faint notes of her perfume and followed her in that direction. It didn’t take long to catch up with her as she headed towards a park nearby.
“D-Devon!”
She froze in her tracks at the sound of her name. Everything screamed for her to run away, but the bass in his voice made her stop. Jungkook jogged up to her, breathing hard.
“What are you doing here?”
Something in her snapped. Maybe it was the stress from her job or Jungkook always coming home injured, but Devon had had enough. She rounded on him as her fists shook. 
“That’s the least of your worries! What the fuck, Jungkook?! I-I don’t even know where to begin. I mean–” a short laugh stopped her words as her body shook– “a werewolf. A fucking werewolf! I-I just...this is...I,” she babbled, sinking to a bench staring off into the distance. 
He watched her reaction, waiting for her to quieten down, and he took that chance to speak. “I only kept it from you to protect you. These people are dangerous.” 
As the adrenaline began to wear off, Jungkook’s face filled with exhaustion. He slumped to the ground. “I was giving up that life. My last fight–or so I thought–was finished the other night. I couldn’t turn it down because–” he faltered off, looking away. 
Devon raised her head to look at him. “Because what?”
His eyes welled with tears as he looked at her. “They threatened to hurt you, Dee.” He exhaled loudly, staring up at the sky. “I care about you too much to not do anything. You mean so much to me that I fought tonight to keep you safe.”
Even if she was furious with him, his confession made her heart flutter. “Kook–”
“You know the reason no one caught on to you being there?”
She shook her head no.
“You smell like me,” he answered.
She raised her brow with a frown. “What do you mean?”
Jungkook coughed slightly as his cheeks dusted with pink. “Remember all those times we’d watch movies, and I cuddled up to you?”
Did she want to know where this is going? “Uh-huh.”
“Well...Iwasmarkingmyterritory.”
“Pardon?”
Jungkook’s face looked like it would combust. “I marked you...with my scent. Any wolf that comes across you won’t try anything because you’re already...claimed.”
“Claimed? Claimed?! Jeon Jungkook, have you lost your ever-loving mind? I am not a piece of meat that you can keep for yourself!”
He winced away from Devon, whining and curling into a ball. “Not literally! It was for your safety,” he pouted, looking up at her. “I’d be beside myself if something were to happen to you.”
Jungkook rose to his knees, all but crawling over to her on the bench. He took her hands gingerly into his. 
“I don’t know where we go from here, but I’m sorry from the bottom of my heart for keeping this from you, but you have to understand—if you were in my position, would you want me to know?”
Good point.
Devon sighed as the comfort from his hands relaxed her nerves. “Kook, this is a lot to take in.”
“I know. I understand if you need some space,” he replied. His head dropped, resting on her knee. Subconsciously, Devon raked her fingers through his hair. 
This wasn’t so bad, right? 
My roommate is a fucking werewolf.
Jungkook vibrated with a sound as he suddenly pulled away from Devon. She gave him a curious stare. “What’s wrong?”
Fuck
Jungkook felt the heat rise in his face as his pupils dilated. He swallowed loudly and stood up. “I-I should get you home.”
Devon frowned but remained seated. “Seriously, Jungkook, what’s going on?”
He let out a whine as his eyes darted around. “I-I can’t tell you.”
“Jungkook,” her voice firm, “No more secrets.”
His cheeks puffed, feeling the embarrassment grow on his face. He began to pace. “Fine! You’re in heat.”
Devon’s mouth dropped open as her eyes rounded. Jungkook ran his hands through his hair, avoiding eye contact. “It’s becoming unbearable. I have to get you away from me.”
She bit down on her lip, staring at her hands in her lap. “But what if I don’t want that?”
He stopped pacing and gawked at her. “What?”
Devon rose from her seat and walked up to him. Her eyes glinted with mischief. He was still only wearing a pair of torn jeans. Cuts and bruises were healing at an accelerated rate. Jungkook froze as Devon’s hands slid across his abs, outlining them with her fingers. 
“Do I have to spell it out for you? Kookie–” she nuzzled against him, standing on her tip-toes, so her lips ghosted his earlobe, “I want you.”
Jungkook suppressed a moan. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep himself calm, but he was losing whatever restraint he had. He was a wolf, after all, and with her standing there wanting him, he couldn’t resist anymore. Opening his eyes, he looked down at her as his eyes glowed faintly in the dark.
“Do you know what you’re asking? Are you sure?”
She nodded, making him frown slightly. “Words, Dee. Yes or no.”
“Yes,” the resolve in her voice. “I want this; I want you.”
Suddenly, Jungkook gripped the back of her head and crashed his lips to hers. Devon, caught by surprise, didn't know what to do with her hands. They hung at her side as Jungkook guided her against a tree. Her back bumped against the trunk as he caged her in. His tongue pleaded for entrance, and she obliged, opening her mouth. He sought the delicate muscle, lightly caressing it with his tongue. 
Devon, her senses awakened, placed her hands on his shoulders and played with the long strands that laid on his neck. She moaned into the kiss, begging for more. Jungkook felt the air in his lungs struggle, and he broke the kiss, resting his forehead on top of her head. Catching his breath, he felt buzzed as her fingers massaged his skin.
With a grin, he lifted her chin, placing soft kisses every few moments. “I could kiss you forever,” he murmured.
“That makes two of us,” she responded with a giggle.
He closed his eyes with a hiss. “You smell intoxicating.” His eyes opened again as they glowed faintly. His nostrils flared as hunger took over him. “Wanna ravage you.”
“What are you waiting for?” she taunted playfully. Her fingers danced down his chest, making him groan with want. She tugged on the band of jeans after feeling his length hardened against her thigh. Only one thought crossed her mind. How was she going to take it all? She palmed him over his jeans, and much to her astonishment, he grew even harder. Jungkook clenched his jaw, trying to keep in control. Devon removed her hand and touched the button on his jeans.
“May I?”
He bit down on his lip, staring at her with equal parts lust and devotion. “It’s all yours.”
His words alone made her thighs clench together. With the same amount of fervor, Devon sank to her knees, unbuttoning his pants. His cock sprung out, slapping against his stomach. Devon was sadly mistaken if she thought it was an adequate size from just feeling it in his jeans. This man was a work of art. She’d need both hands to handle him. It was mesmerising, the head red and swollen from arousal. Beads of precum coating his stomach by now. The veins along his length throbbed as his cock twitched just from her looking at him. Devon reached out and cupped his balls, heavy and full. Jungkook braced his hands against the tree breathing through his nose. Devin ran her hands up and down his length, stroking him slowly. She brought her lips up to the head and kissed it gently. 
The sounds he made only excited her more. She ran her tongue along the tip, coating her tongue in his essence.
“Tastes good,” she cooed.
Jungkook reached down and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “I won’t last long if you keep doing that,” he warned.
Devon bit down her lower lip, still stroking him off. “Oh? How can I not appreciate what you have? It’s the most beautiful cock I’ve ever laid eyes on.” 
Jungkook eyed her with a smirk. “Show me how you want to appreciate my cock.”
Devon consumed him with ease like a woman starved, tongue wrapping around the length as she relaxed her mouth to take him all in. Once his tip hit the back of her throat, she paused, hollowing out her cheeks. In tandem with sucking him off, her hands pumped the remaining length. 
Jungkook’s knees almost buckled from the sensation of her mouth and tongue. He whined, watching her move. “S-So warm and wet,” he whispered languidly. 
The slurping sounds rang out in the night as Devon tried her best to deep throat him. Jungkook cooed praises while stroking her cheek. When Devon’s eyes met his, he almost came right then and there. Tapping her cheek, she stopped bobbing her head and slowly came off his cock with a soft pop. Saliva and precum coated her lips and his cock. He picked her up off the ground, cupping her chin, and kissed her with unbridled passion. The kiss nearly knocked her off her feet. He sucked at her bottom lip sensually, still turned on by her actions. 
“My turn,” he teased. 
As much as he wanted to rip her scrubs off, they were out in the open. Being as gentle as possible, Jungkook tugged them down, drooling at the smell permeating from her. He noticed the wet patch on her underwear and licked his lips, his nose bumping against her pubic bone, trying to hold onto his restraint. He swallowed thickly, meeting her gaze.
“Baby, can I have a taste?”
She combed her fingers through his hair, nodding. “Yes, Jungkook. Please.”
His tongue licked a thick strip on her underwear, causing her to jolt. Gasping, she gripped his hair, anchoring herself in place. With his teeth, he tugged down her underwear past her knees. He smirked, enjoying the view.
“So lovely. And all for me.”
He massaged her inner thighs, placing soft kisses along her skin, making his way up to her pussy lips. His finger stroked her slit gauging her reaction. Devon hissed as her hips bucked, making a chuckle escape past his lips.
“Already wet and needy for me, hmm?”
He spread her lips apart, eyeing her clit. He flicked it gently, followed by a smack. Devon bucked her hips with a gasp. Jungkook gave a tentative lick collecting her arousal on his tongue, and let out a wanton moan, covering her clit with his mouth. Devon threw her head back, grinding against his mouth. He let go of her clit, letting his tongue travel down to her entrance. He moaned against her, enjoying the feast before his eyes.
“F-Fuck Kook….like that….don’t stop,” she pleaded breathlessly. 
As her legs trembled from standing, Jungkook paused, looking up at her. He couldn’t get enough of her. He smiled again as he hoisted her legs up and propped them on his shoulders. 
“Better?”
His strength alone was turning her on. Devon gripped his hair as she cried out into the darkness. The spring coiled tight in her abdomen. She was close. 
“K-Kook, I’m gonna....gonna.”
“Baby cum for me, let me taste it all,” he purred.
She rutted against his mouth as her hips jerked. Jungkook held her tight just as she stopped mid-scream. Waves of pleasure crashed over her as the coil finally released. Devon’s chest rose as she came down from her high. Pupils dilated, she tried to catch her breath. Jungkook happily lapped up her juices, humming with content. Once he cleaned her up, he gazed up at her intently.
“But I’m still hungry.”  
A shiver ran down her spine. He noticed the way her pussy lips throbbed just from his words. Smirking, he removed her legs from around his neck and stood up from his position. He wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing close to her. Devon held on to his shoulders, returning the smile as he nuzzled against her, kissing her neck.
“I need you now, baby.”
“S-Still sensitive,” she whispered.
Jungkook kissed her forehead gently, with a hum of understanding. “Gonna have to fix that eventually.”
She hit his arm playfully with a grin. “Oh? So there’s gonna be a next time?”
“Hell yeah! I already laid claim,” he teased.
“Without me knowing?”
He gave her his famous bunny grin, and a blush crept into his cheeks. “I mean...if it’s alright with you, Dee.”
“Fuck me, Jungkook,” she mewled.
A growl formed in his throat as the animalistic urge took over. “It will be my pleasure,” he husked. Lining himself to her entrance, he stopped himself from thrusting in. “Is this okay? I mean, I don’t have protection, Dee.”
“Jungkook, if you don’t fuck me right now. I swear–”
The wind got knocked out of her as he thrust into her. Jungkook grunted as he rested his forehead on her shoulder. “Was that too much?”
“J-Just move...fuck Kookie, move!” she begged.
Gripping her hips, Jungkook felt his cock swell inside her pussy. “Oh shit,” he choked out. 
He began a slow, steady rhythm, making sure she was okay with the pace. Of course, he felt the need to go quicker, but he held off. This was only their first time, and he didn’t want to do anything she didn’t agree to do. 
She didn’t care about the tree bark digging into her back. All that was on her mind was this amazing man fucking her silly. She felt so full. He sought her lips, kissing her feverishly. Their grunts and moans filled the emptiness of the park. Devon, now more alert, began to bounce on his cock. Jungkook bit down on his lip, holding back a moan. She was snug around him. He didn’t want this to end. She could feel him throbbing inside, knowing soon he’d come. 
“W-Where do you want it?” he gasped, nibbling on her earlobe.
“In me, Kookie. Fill me up.”
“Oh fuck. I will. I will,” he chanted.
For the second time that night, Devon saw stars as her orgasm slammed over her. It rippled through her body as her pussy quivered around his cock. Jungkook became sloppier with his pace, seeking his own pleasure. He tugged her hair to the side, bitting into her neck to hold in his sounds, but it was too much. He threw his head back as an earth-shattering howl ripped into the night. His cock twitched before spurting out his seed deep into her womb. 
After a few moments, when they caught their breath, Jungkook picked her up with care and laid them both in the grass. Still attached to her, he kept her in his lap. She laid her head on his chest, content with the beating of his heart.
“That was–”
“Incredible? Mind blowing? Magnificent?”
Devon rolled her eyes, attempting to keep still as he was still buried in her pussy. “You give yourself way too much credit.”
Jungkook’s fingers danced along her skin with a giggle. “Do I? I’ll have to try harder.”
Devon let out a slew of curses making him laugh out loud. To prove his point, he raised his hips, making his cock brush her spot. She growled before twisting his nipple. Jungkook yelped, trying to turn away.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
Devon snorted out a laugh, bending down to peck his lips. “You’re forgiven.”
“Good, but seriously. Are you okay? It wasn’t too rough, was it? Sometimes my wolf can get a bit off-kilter,” he frowned, looking up at the stars, “I’d never wanna hurt you, Dee.”
She felt her heart swell as she stroked his cheek. He leaned into the touch letting out a soft whine. “It was everything I’ve ever wanted Jungkook. You’re amazing.”
“Really?” he looked at her hopefully. 
“Really,” she answered with a grin. He laid back in the grass, closing his eyes briefly. Dragging her nails down his chest, a glint of mischief appeared. “Oh, Kookie?”
“Yeah?”
“My, my, what big eyes you have.”
He opened one eye. “What?”
“Oh, humor me. I’ve always wanted to say this,” she pouted.
He snorted out a bark. “Fine,”–he sat up, staring at her sinfully. “The better to see you with my dear.”
Devon cooed as she took his hands into her. “My, my, what big hands you have.”
Jungkook gripped her hips, sliding his hands up her back. “Better to hold you with, my dear.”
Devon leaned down to whisper in his ear. “My, my, what a big dick you have.”
He flipped their positions, towering her with a snarl. His eyes smoldered, staring down at her. His lips traveled from her neck to her sternum, nibbling the skin as he went. Devon purred, feeling her body become alive once again.
“The better to fuck you with, my love,” he growled.
By the end of the night, Jungkook had Devon howling his name at least ten more times. 
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615 notes · View notes
ladyartemesia · 10 months ago
Text
Once Upon a Bracelet
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Pairing: Prince Jungkook x Sorceress Reader (Featuring Platonic Jin x Reader Friendship)
Genre: Fantasy • Soulmates • Enemies to Lovers • Fairytale
Word Count: 12.5K
Warnings: explicit sexual content • mentions of death • injury with a knife • passing mention of patricide • mentions of blood in relation to magic • literally none of this is graphic at all • I am just trying to be safe • loss of virginity • some hurt/comfort elements • social inequality and classism • pseudo-infidelity but not really •
Rating: Explicit (18+) 
Summary: You were born to nothing, but your powerful craft caught the eye of a charming prince. However, his distinctly un-charming younger brother challenged your betrothal and is routinely challenging you. Jeon Jungkook is (probably) a former necromancer and (definitely) the wrong prince…
But the bracelets tell a different story.
Author’s Note: This story would not be here without the love, support and friendship of my incredible support system. You talk with me, you laugh with me, you listen when I’m crying, and you read my chaotic drafts when I am ready to pull my hair out of my head in frustration. I love you all. @ppersonna @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen @underthejoon @lemonjoonah Special thanks to my lovely beta Hope @hobi-gif who keeps my work sharp and gives so generously of her time to help me. If I shine, its because you ladies are lighting up my life. And finally, shout-out to the lovely @wwilloww who read the very first version of this story year before we ever connected through BTS. I hope you like this new version--my brain clearly ran away with me...
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Content Note: In this universe a necromancer is defined as a magic user with the ability to drain and/or manipulate the life force of living beings to fuel their own power. Using life force magic temporarily grants them advanced abilities—most of which are forbidden or illegal in the Kingdom of Dionysia where this story is set. Most mages with the ability to use this type of magic do not elect to do so. Magic users in this universe are typically proficient in three to four varieties of magic generally determined by their genetic make-up (meaning you are likely to inherit the same type of magical abilities as your parents or family members). 
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꧁ Prologue ꧂
It is said that the world of mortals contained three sacred wells where ancient magic rose up within the waters like springs from the depths of the earth. 
One such well could be found in the Kingdom of Dionysia—a nation of great warriors and powerful crafters who served as its caretakers for generations.
The Dionysians called this place Sanguine Well and, as a reward for their devotion, the gods honored them with a remarkable gift...
Bonding Bracelets
—a set of unique magical artifacts used to join, identify, and empower soulmates. 
On the first day of their twentieth year, Dionysian youth traveled to Sanguine Well for the ritual creation of a bonding bracelet pair. 
When the appointed hour arrived, a young seeker ventured into the depths of the well and held their breath beneath its waters till the currents receded—leaving a bracelet pair behind. 
One bracelet formed fully clasped around their wrist. The other remained open and would only close for the seeker’s destined mate.
Naturally the people of Dionysia did not take the gift of bonded soulmates lightly...
All proposed matches were registered and approved by the Ruling Council before an open bracelet could even be tried on by a potential partner and both parties were required to present evidence of their commitment to one another. 
If the alliance was approved, the betrothed pair participated in a public ceremony where the first seeker’s intended would activate the bond by placing the open bracelet around their wrist.
When an unclaimed bracelet united with its true owner, the open ends stretched and intertwined to form a rune.
From that moment on, the seeker and their soulmate were blood bonded in a supernatural union of their hearts, powers, and abilities that was—to all known craft—unbreakable. 
Dionysia believed that this care and reverence honored the craft and the gods, thereby allowing the sacred tradition to continue.
In 900 years of recorded history, only five bonding ceremonies ended with a bracelet that did not close.
Now there were six…
꧁ Once Upon a Time ꧂
“Jin!”
Your voice echoed through the elegant corridors of Solemn Truth Palace as you chased after your betrothed. “I’m sorry! I—”
Jin whirled on you, shaking his head vehemently.
“None of this is your fault.”
“There are many reasons why this could’ve happened,” you offered breathlessly.
“There’s only one reason why this happens.”
He sighed and you rubbed your temples in frustration.
“I don’t understand… The Council gave permission.”
The Ruling Council was a sovereign governing body of three kings and three queens—one monarch from each of Dionysia’s six royal bloodlines.
“The Council isn’t all knowing…” Jin collapsed against a nearby wall. “This is a disaster,” he whispered.
And it was.
You had no family, but all of your friends and colleagues from the Academy were there.
Jin was technically an orphan as well, but his adopted family, the Jeons, were there.
Jeon Alaya was high queen of the Ruling Council, so half the kingdom was there to see the prince, her (adopted) son, bond with the craft prodigy from The Wastes.
Half the kingdom, but not her blood. Not her youngest son...
The two of you were silent for several moments as you struggled to process the shock.
“Do you think the rumors—what they say about me—is true?” 
Jin’s head shot up in an instant.
“No,” he swore, “they’re absolutely not true.”
Your heart warmed at his fierce defense, but after today’s debacle you were beginning to question yourself…
Whispers that ‘Wastelanders’ like yourself were citizens of no nation and loyal only to their own desires had plagued the majority of your academic and professional career.
You were forced to work twice as hard as any of your peers for each of your achievements, relying on nothing more than your natural talent and a stubborn determination to succeed in spite of the prejudice you faced. 
And you did succeed.
The gatekeepers of Dionysian society may have sneered at your background, but the powerful craft in your veins and the mastery with which you wielded it earned you undeniable respect and acclaim. 
Yet—even then—you were still an outsider. 
A strange girl with strange magic. 
Most Dionynisians practiced forms of elemental and illusion crafts. Your primary abilities, however, were every bit as foriegn and hard to define as you were.
Strictly speaking your magic fell under the umbrella of transfiguration arts (manipulating matter and energy to transform one thing into another), but you had been known to affect everything from the taste of tea to the weather—abilities far outside the norms of that designation. 
Nevertheless, transfiguration mages were rare and most of their lore was outdated—a situation which allowed you to establish yourself as a leading authority in the field almost by default. 
Between your fortuitous betrothal to Prince Seokjin and the widespread recognition of your achievements, you had hoped—after a lifetime of challenges—that the path ahead might be an easier one. 
But nothing ever came easily to you...
“Jin, it didn’t close—”
“It didn’t close because we aren’t soulmates—not because you aren’t one of us.” His expression softened. “We were a good idea… Just not the right one.”
Bitter tears welled up in the corners of your eyes.
On some level you were not surprised. You cared for Jin but–
Yours was not an overly romantic attachment.
It was a strong friendship—one that spanned several years. When you decided to apply to the Royal Council for bonding, it seemed…
Logical.
Friendship was an excellent criteria for identifying a potential mate and over the centuries many bonded pairs applied as friends.
You trusted in the wisdom of the Royal Council—everyone did.
If you and Jin were not meant for one another, surely the Council would see it. They would turn down the application—someone would object—
Well...
Someone did object.
But you were approved, nonetheless. 
The date was set. Announcements were made. Invitations were sent out. 
Then, at last, the ornate golden cuff was placed over your wrist and…
Nothing.
Nothing happened.
Jin’s bracelet remained stubbornly un-closed.
And you had never felt so mortified—so exposed—
So profoundly alone in your entire life.
It was a scandal of epic proportions, one which potentially called into question the judgement of the entire Ruling Council.
“Listen,” Jin spoke at last, “I need… I need to clear my head and think about the next steps. I know an expert on bonding bracelets. Perhaps I can convince her to help us figure out this mess.”
His hands settled over your shoulders in a familiar comforting gesture.
“Head to my house outside the city for a while. No one will bother you there, and I’ll be back tomorrow.” He gave your arms a brotherly squeeze. “We’ll work through this—I promise.”
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Neither of you were keen to face the commotion unfolding in the grand ballroom of Solemn Truth Palace (where the failed ceremony took place), so Jin suggested a discreet escape through the secret entrance in his mother’s office. 
The two of you parted ways with a final hug before the prince set off for the Hall of Records—leaving you to trudge miserably toward his beautiful mansion by the lake. 
Technically, Golden Starlight Manor was just one of many homes owned by the Jeon family. This one, however, Jin shared with his younger brother…
Jungkook.
You kicked a stone irritably at the mere thought of his name. 
Prince Jeon Jungkook was rather a sore subject for you. 
In fact, over the course of your acquaintance, you expended considerable energy either avoiding him or engaging in dramatic shouting matches with him.
As such, Starlight (the family’s affectionate nickname for the sprawling ancestral holding) was normally the last place in Dionysia you wanted to be. 
But that was no longer the case. 
Jungkook had been gone for weeks. He left the very day your betrothal was announced…
“Why do you bother with those ridiculous gloves? Anyone who’s watched you cast knows what you’re hiding.”
You sighed heavily. 
“Good evening to you as well, Jungkook. Nice of you to finally show up.”
“Mother made some very explicit threats against my person when I told her I was busy so I assumed it was important—and, judging by your fancy gloves, I was correct.”
“Honestly I’m beginning to suspect you’ve never seen a pair before.”
“I’m just baffled by their purpose. It’s only a scar—your hands are not disfigured… So why cover it up?”
Only a scar…
You shook your head. 
Only a scar you earned in a back alley knife fight when you were a mere ten years old. With no proper medical care it had become infected and what should have been a simple wound became a permanent reminder of your ugly past. 
Tonight—of all nights—you would rather not be reminded...
“Is there a purpose to this discussion, Highness, or are you just interrogating me for fun?”
Jungkook scoffed at your cool reply. 
“That scratch on your hand isn’t even noticeable, you know.” He opened up his own palm to reveal a thick band of gnarled tissue slashing diagonally across the center. “Mine is significantly more impressive.
Something that might have been a smile tugged insistently at the corner of your lips but you covered it quickly with a blistering scowl. 
“Comparing scars—really? Can’t you be civilized for one blasted evening?”
“Why would I do that? Think of how bored you’d be.”
You groaned and threw back the rest of your drink with a frustrated gulp. 
“Believe it or not we common folk long for a bit of peaceful boredom now and then.”
The prince snorted and clasped his hand dramatically over his heart. 
“So righteous.”
“Someone ought to be.”
“Enough you two,” Jeon Alaya called from across the family’s spacious day room. “I just replaced those curtains and I don’t want them exploding into a herd of butterflies—or some other such nonsense.”
In any other context, that would have been a profoundly strange comment.
However…
Disagreements between yourself and Jeon Jungkook had become downright legendary over the last several months. 
A heated argument in Night Meadow Park caused several trees to burst into bright multicolored flames and start shooting all their fruit at peaceful park-goers like tiny delicious cannonballs. 
A dispute over the best ingredients to use in vegetable casserole ended with an entire bowl of green beans growing legs and chasing the family dog out onto the lawn. 
The two of you got into a row at the Centennial Peace Celebration and sent all of the lightning swans (specially flown in for the occasion) into a static-electric mating frenzy that plastered everyone’s clothes to their bodies obscenely—including the ninety-five year-old high priest. (The chief matron from the Knitting Guild was so scandalized that she fainted into a bowl of punch.)
And just last week Jungkook’s stubborn refusal to acknowledge your point in an ongoing debate about teleportation made you so mad that your hair literally turned red for an entire day. 
As such, you both had the decency to look abashed under the high queen’s wary gaze. 
“I don’t know, Mother,” Jin chuckled before offering the assembled guests a dazzling grin. “Perhaps you should have let them go. Butterflies are good luck after all.”
You sighed happily—impressed yet again by your partner’s elegant diplomacy. 
The two princes of House Jeon could not have been less alike. 
They shared a deep affection for one another and for their parents, but that was where the similarities began and ended. 
Seokjin was a playful charmer with a silver tongue and a delightfully mischievous demeanor. 
He was remarkably similar in both looks and temperament to Alaya and her husband Roomin—so much so that people often assumed Jungkook was the adopted sibling.
The elder prince was also a natural politician. He enjoyed appearing in charitable competitions for cooking and fishing where his flirtatious habit of blowing kisses into the crowd would unlace corsets and purses strings left and right. 
Not that he had ever been unfaithful—Kim Seokjin was every bit as kind and loyal as he was beautiful. 
And he was very beautiful. 
Jungkook on the other hand…
Beautiful was altogether the wrong word. 
The sharp sensual planes of his face seemed shaped for something darker and wilder than beauty.
Jin was clever and outgoing, but Jungkook was brilliant and quietly intense. His abilities and impressive spell lore were both highly sought after, but he was difficult to draw out and generally preferred to practice his science and experimental craft far away from the public eye. 
Most people agreed that he was an enigma—and a wickedly handsome one at that. His fiery brown eyes and impressive muscular physique were only enhanced by the apathetic confidence of his demeanor. 
However... 
The younger prince’s most arresting feature was unquestionably his hair.  
Once, it had been brown—like the rest of the Jeon family…
But he returned from ‘the incident’ several years ago with a distinct new color—one no dye or spell could replicate. 
Ashen Gold.
The mark of a deadly necromancer. 
A constant visual reminder that he had taken a life.
And yet even that could not detract from his seductive allure—if anything it made him appear more poetically ethereal.
Like an Angel of Death.
Women all over the kingdom were obsessed with the mysterious Jeon prince—
Not you of course.
That raw, unruly magnetism might cause some hearts to flutter—but certainly not yours. 
After all...
Jeon Jungkook was still a true-born prince.
And you—even with all of your accomplishments—would always be a street waif from The Wastes with a little too much magic in her blood. 
You had no business noticing the soft curve of his lips or the strong line of his jaw or—
… anything below that. 
As such you shot the man in question one final dirty look before turning your attention back to Jin. 
The elder prince finished thanking the assembled guests for accepting his invitation and finally arrived at the true purpose for the evening.
“Honored loved ones… I am pleased to announce that a bond between this incredibly beautiful woman and my unworthy self has been unanimously approved by the Royal Council! We are betrothed!”
A predictable burst of applause and excited murmuring erupted as you stepped forward, prepared to graciously take your place at Jin’s side and accept congratulations when—
Strong fingers suddenly wrapped around your wrist—holding you back decisively. 
Shocked silence fell over the room as you turned to face Jeon Jungkook (resolutely ignoring the fact that his unyielding grip was sending the strangest sparks of heat all through your body).
“No,” he growled with startling finality. “You cannot be with him.”
… Perhaps that humiliating spectacle at your betrothal party should have been the first indication that today’s ceremony was bound to end in misery. 
Jeon Jungkook was a menace, but he adored his brother and his impassioned objections to the match were wildly uncharacteristic.
Still…
Considering the turbulent nature of your relationship, you were rather relieved that he had not been there this morning to witness his own belated triumph. 
It was a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. 
The repercussions of today’s disastrous ceremony loomed overhead like the Sword of Damocles. There would be no escaping the fallout.  
It was well past the eighth hour when you finally reached the manor and the staff were already gone for the night… 
There was no one to greet you or ask any well-intentioned questions about your sudden appearance.
Thank the gods for small favors.
Normally you took a moment to appreciate Starlight’s elegantly carved entryway and vibrant woodland wallpaper (a stunning and expensive feature which made the entire house feel like an enchanted forest)—but the reality of the day was already beginning to take a physical toll. 
You were entirely too drained to attempt the stairs, bypassing them in favor of the main drawing room where you intended to simply collapse fully-clothed on a chaise when—
“Shouldn’t you be off playing princess literally anywhere else?”
Of course. 
A mirthless laugh bubbled up before you could stop it.
“Jeon Jungkook.”
Just what I needed right now.
The prince crossed his arms and offered you a condescending tilt of his head.
Years of social training had you dipping slightly into an informal bow—hoping it would hide the way your body always seemed to go haywire in his presence. 
Jungkook’s tall muscular frame leaned indolently against the fireplace, dressed head to toe in his signature black garb. Two silver earrings—priceless heirlooms of the Jeon bloodline—dangled rakishly from his ears beneath riotous waves of golden hair. 
He looked more like a renegade pirate than a high born prince.
And his effect on you was maddening. 
“What are you doing here?”
Jungkook raised a single imperious brow in response. 
“It is my house, Sandflower.”
You bristled at the familiar nickname. 
Sandflowers were native to the desolate region you grew up in. 
It was an easy way to remind you of your place into the world. 
And his. 
A prince of Dionysia forced to interact with a foundling from The Wastes simply because you happened to catch his brother’s eye.
How that must grate his delicate sensibilities.
You tapped your chin thoughtfully. 
“I heard you ran off to pout over Jin’s terrible taste in women on one of those South Sea pleasure cruises.” Condescension dripped from your tone like poisoned honey. “What happened? Couldn’t find any lost souls willing to partner you for naked badminton?”
He grinned devilishly. 
“Quite the opposite in fact. There were far too many volunteers.”
You rolled your eyes, firmly pushing aside the unwelcome heat his words evoked. 
“Please spare me the details. I recently ate.”
“Yes, how was that overblown betrothal banquet?… Boring?… Pretentious?” He sighed theatrically. “Such a shame I missed those speeches—especially King Tiemore. His habit of loudly sucking snot up into his skull really adds a special something.”
You just barely managed to bite back a snort—
King Tiemore’s speech was rather excruciating—and for that very reason. 
“The dinner was lovely—naturally. Of course the younger prince’s absence was keenly felt by all—though I confess some of us enjoyed it more than others.”
“I knew there had to be something about me you enjoyed.”
“Indeed. Your absence is by far your most attractive quality. I find myself powerfully drawn to it.”
Jungkook laughed and offered you a wry grin. 
“You know—you play so coy, but I’m sure you missed me a little.” He leaned forward ever-so-slightly. “Or were you truly content with all that ‘peaceful boredom’ I left behind?” 
No. I wasn’t. 
“Yes, of course I was,” you snapped.
“I don’t believe you.”
“You’re free to believe whatever you like.”
A sudden scuffle erupted from the corner as Pippin (the family dog) scrambled nervously out into the kitchen. Ever since the green bean incident he refused to be in the same room with the two of you together. 
Jungkook sighed and ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation.
“What are you even doing here, Sandflower?”
A sharp burst of anxiety spiked in your stomach. You were in no way prepared to reveal the extent of your humiliation to him just yet. 
“I could ask you the same question.”
His eyes narrowed curiously. 
“A man hardly needs to explain why he’s present in his own home. The same, however, cannot be said for you. Now why are you here when you’re supposed to be hanging off my brother's arm like a good little bride-to-be.” 
“Perhaps I’ve come to plan,” you answered coolly. “Golden Starlight House would make a lovely venue for the wedding, don’t you think?” 
You gestured toward a worn leather chair near the fireplace (one you knew to be his favorite). “We just need to clear out all the trash and it will be absolutely perfect.”
“Over my dead body.”
You shrugged. 
“If you insist—though I’m afraid your hideous corpse will clash with the decor.”
“Oh you don’t have to worry about all that, Sandflower. I wouldn’t be caught celebrating that union dead or alive.”
“Well now that is fortunate,” you sighed in a sickeningly sweet tone, “—as I would rather not share the joy of my wedding ceremony with the man who publicly objected to it.”
Jungkook pushed off his perch against the mantle, rising to full intimidating height.
“I had good reason.” 
The words were quietly spoken, but his eyes burned with conviction—just as they had the last time you saw him. 
“What reason could you possibly have for obstructing your brother’s happiness?” 
The prince took a full step closer and you tried very hard not to be unnerved by the reduced space between you. 
“Jin is not right for you, little Sandflower—”
“You do not have permission to address me informally!” 
Your voice cracked through the air like a whip as you sought to reestablish a safe distance (whether real or metaphorical) between the two of you. “I may have been born a nothing from The Wastes, but I am a ranked crafter and the betrothed of a royal. You will refer to me accordingly.”
Jungkook could feel his normally frigid heart pounding madly as he stared down his brother’s woman with unrepentant heat. 
His eyes drank you in as you stood before him—teeming with barely controlled fire.
Gods but you were magnificent.
He still remembered the day Jin brought you home to the family estate.
You seemed so serene, so proper… an ideal contrast to his charmingly brash elder sibling. 
Within minutes, Jungkook dismissed you as vapid and uninteresting. 
The girl at his brother’s side spoke very little, smiled very tightly, and sat very straight. 
You would make a lovely decorative addition to Jin’s political career—one that would never distract from his efforts or clash with his carefully maintained persona. 
But oh…
He’d been so very wrong.
Some months later Jungkook was called out to the Academy on unavoidable business. After several hours of work the prince was eager to leave the crowded campus and return home—until he heard something that stopped him in his tracks. 
It was you. 
Several classes were gathered to watch you debate a renowned authority in the field of experimental alchemy. The man’s theories had been the gold standard (literally) for decades, yet you challenged his findings with methodical precision—letting your infectious zeal color every word as you reduced his pretentious ramblings to ash. 
That was the first time he saw you—the real you—not the shallow little angel his brother brought home—but a woman brimming with vibrant energy and irresistible passion. 
He had no idea how you managed to suppress the force of your true nature, but he suspected that the pleasantly tepid persona you adopted with his family was meant to compensate for your ignominious origins. 
He was certain, however, of one thing:
You and Jin were a terrible match. 
His brother would never make you happy and he could not bear to see Jin’s spirit broken by the anguish of an ill-fated entanglement.
Naturally, this newfound conviction had nothing to do with the way his own blood stirred at the sight of you rising up in glorious fury. 
Nothing at all. 
From that moment on, everything changed. 
Jungkook went from passively ignoring your presence to deliberately baiting you at every turn. Time and time again he pushed and prodded until that mesmerizing fire blazed in your eyes and you were alive with riotous animosity instead of cold and distant.
“Forgive me, Mistress,” he tilted his head thoughtfully, “or is it Princess now?”
You snorted and shook your head. 
“You know I will never be a princess.”
“Oh? So you’ve finally given up this ridiculous alliance with my brother?”
“Your brother is a royal, but not a true born prince. His title is just a courtesy—one his mate and descendants cannot share.”
“Disappointed?” 
“In you? Frequently.”
“Fair enough—but Jin is a far better person than either of us and he does not deserve to have his heart broken.”
Your mouth dropped open in outrage. 
“I resent your entire implication. I know you do not think very highly of me but—”
“You have no idea what I think of you, Mistress,” he interrupted fiercely.
Anger flared in your gaze as you stepped defiantly into his space, fueled by the familiar wave of restless energy you encountered every time the two of you clashed.
“I am a powerful crafter in my own right, I don’t need a wealthy mate to survive. I have done exceptionally well for myself—by myself.”
“Then why are you with him?”
You drew back incredulously.
“Is it so hard to believe that I do not want to be alone anymore? Is it wrong to look at my gorgeous best friend and consider that perhaps we could create the one thing I cannot earn or buy or craft—not with all the gold and power in the world?”
“Love?” Jungkook sneered.
“Family,” you shot back. “Something you take for granted. Something you don’t even want. You’re not even looking for a bond mate!”
Jungkook met your cutting accusations with an icy glare. He knew you were baiting him, yet for some masochistic reason he refused to stop you. 
Lines were about to be crossed, but—as usual—the prince had torn away your genteel civility and unleashed that penniless spitfire who clawed her way up from the rotting streets and into the hallowed halls of Dionysia’s Academy. 
“Ah, yes. I forgot,” you drawled, not bothering to conceal the venom in your words. “The great Jeon Jungkook lives a life of self-imposed solitude—as the walking eulogy of a traitor.”
“How dare you!” he snarled.
You crossed your arms defiantly. 
“How dare I what? Call her a traitor? She was a necromancer! A dark crafter using evil—and highly illegal—magic!” 
“I suppose we cannot all be walking, talking saints like the Mistress of the Wastes!”
“Well, her immaculate bloodline certainly wasn’t a guarantee of any notable virtue! Really what is the point of nobility if so few of you are actually noble?”
The two of you pressed progressively closer with each traded barb and now stood nearly nose to nose seething in reciprocal fury. Every atom in your body was engaged and—for the first time since he stormed away all those months ago—you felt gloriously alive. 
At heart you would always be a fighter and there was no better opponent than Jeon Jungkook. 
“Careful little Mistress, you’re starting to sound awfully judgemental. Ridicule me and my advantages all you want, but birthright is not the shield from suffering you believe it to be. I endured a loss you cannot possibly comprehend.”
“A loss?... That woman was a disgrace. And yet you still have the audacity to mourn her?”
Jungkook scoffed. 
“Gods, why am I even bothering? It is impossible for you to understand such things… You only know how to gain—how to advance. Loss is not something you’re accustomed to—a fringe benefit of being born with nothing I suppose.”
“Spoken like a privileged prince!”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. 
“Do I look like a privileged prince to you?”
You knew what he was getting at and with anyone else it might have been an effective shut down, but you were a master debater—able to quickly reclaim his point for your own cutting riposte. 
“Of course you do! Do you think anyone else could turn up with a necromancer’s mark and just waltz back into the fold without consequence? What have you lost? Certainly not your position—and certainly not her because everyone knows that your relationship was nothing more than an accursed spell!”
Jungkook’s jaw worked in silence as he fought to control his emotions. 
For a moment he looked almost… 
Vulnerable.
And you could not help the wave of sympathy that suddenly rose up for him—for the young prince of so many years ago who placed his trust—and his heart—in the wrong hands. 
Your tone was noticeably softer when you spoke again. 
“At first I thought it was just a ridiculous rumor spread by the Royal Council to justify your pardon... but when the Academy called me in to help permanently dispose of her spell books last winter I saw…” You bit your lip. “It really was possible.”
A soft, empty laugh left Jungkook’s lips as he shook his head. 
Of course it was possible. 
But the truth—that he was a fool too blinded by love to recognize the evil he allowed to flourish—was so much worse. 
Elaena was heart-stoppingly beautiful—the kind of lovely that could haunt a man’s thoughts and ruin his mind. 
She was a vision.
When she sought him out, it was like nothing he had ever experienced before. 
She dazzled him, flattered him—left him breathless and enchanted—taunted and teased him till he adored her with obsessive intensity.
In time he eagerly offered her both his heart and his body—
But Elaena was after his soul...
Jungkook’s grandfather, Jeon Olin, was the most powerful necromancer in a thousand years. 
The gift (or curse) of necromancy was genetic. Only a few bloodlines could use it. 
When his beloved wife died giving birth to twins, Olin turned to dark craft in a desperate attempt to get her back.
The cost of necromancy, however, was impossibly steep.
It drained life force. Exposed the wielder to dangerous dark energies—
And slowly drove them insane.
In the end, Jeon Olin was put down by his own children.
Elaena wanted Jungkook’s power desperately. Her own necromancy was weak, but a blood bond with the grandson of Jeon Olin could make her invincible. 
The young prince, however, remained stubbornly blind to her true motives, even as she convinced him to explore the dark edges of the magic in his blood.
After a series of passionate arguments with his concerned family, Jungkook declared his intent to marry Elaena in defiance of their express wishes.
In response, his uncle, Jeon Anjin, did something unforgivable. He removed Jungkook’s bonding bracelet from the Jeon vault and disappeared with it.
The theft and its dramatic aftermath tore the royal family apart.
Jungkook was convinced that his mother and father conspired with Anjin to keep him from bonding with Elaena. Roomin and Alaya swore they had not, but openly admitted that they were grateful for Anjin’s actions. 
Neither Alaya nor her brother could forget the trauma of killing their own father and both were determined to protect future generations from the poison in their family tree. 
Necromancy was a curse and, though they had no proof, the twins could sense its hold on Elaena. 
When Jungkook told his beloved what Anjin had done, she flew into a violent fury—and for the first time he experienced a sliver of doubt in his previously unshakable resolve. 
But it was not enough to free him. 
Consumed by his bitterness and resent, the young prince cut himself off from his heritage—from his people—
And disappeared entirely.
After a few tearful pleas, Elaena persuaded him to cloak their life force using forbidden blood spells, effectively concealing them from even the most powerful seeker mages. 
Daily cuts across his palm to maintain the cloaking spell left him with a thick gnarled scar—one that had not faded even after years of treatments. 
For months no one knew the prince’s whereabouts… or even if he was still alive. 
Elaena believed that if they held out long enough the royal families would relent and welcome them back with open arms. Her obsession with finding Anjin and his stolen treasure put an incredible strain on their relationship...
“You have… no idea what you’re talking about,” Jungkook whispered angrily. 
“Of course I do,” you scoffed. “I’ve worked with mind and heart spells for years. Once the magic is broken or the caster dies—the feelings cease to exist!”
Fury sparked chaotically in the prince’s gaze as he shook his head in frustration. 
“You’re so sure of yourself—of everything—and you never stop to consider that you might be wrong.”
Your fingers pressed into your temples as you tried to ease the headache he was giving you. 
“What could I possibly be wrong about? The entire kingdom knows the story! You were bewitched until Elaena cast a dark spell that rebounded and killed her—”
“That,” he hissed, “is the story—but it is not the truth.”
His hand shot out to grasp the back of your neck and with a sudden flash of heat you found yourself yanked roughly into his memories...
The door to Elaena’s makeshift workshop slammed open with a deafening crack. 
“Ju-Jungkook—what are you doing here, my love? I thought you were out hunting for our dinner.”
Something was wrong. She could see it in his eyes. For months they were filled with open adoration... 
Now they burned with hurt and mistrust. 
“I was looking for the knife,” he whispered quietly, “I remembered seeing you with it last night...”
Elaena paled. 
He’d gone through her chest. But that didn’t have to mean anything—he could have missed—
“I found this.” 
Jungkook slammed an old leather scroll down on the table between them, confirming his lover’s worst fears. 
“That… that isn’t what it seems—I promise I—”
“Enough!” Jungkook shouted—his voice was already beginning to shake. “These are experimental incantations to force an unfated bracelet bond… Tell me—why would you need such a thing?”
His pain and anguish grew every moment she remained silent. 
“Elaena... if you believe that we are soulmates—why would you need to force the bond?”
Elaena rushed toward him, sliding her hands up to cradle his face imploringly. 
“It isn’t like that, my love. This is just research. Of course I believe—”
A soft whimpering sound suddenly cut her off and Jungkook drew back in alarm. 
“What is that?”
He pushed past her, making his way toward the source of the noise—a small moving object covered by cloth in the middle of the room. 
“It’s nothing! Wait!”
Elaena tugged frantically at his shirt but he shook her off and pulled back the cloth to reveal—
“Elaena—gods what have you done?”
It was a little girl—one he recognized from the village they were hiding in. She was bound and laid out over strange dark casting symbols he did not recognize. 
“I discovered a spell, Jungkook. It’s an ancient necromancer incantation. With it you can find anything—anyone.”
A hard hollow feeling gripped his chest tightly. 
“... Why is the girl here?”
“Don’t you see? Now we can finally take your bracelet back from Anjin! You and I—we can truly be together—”
“THE GIRL, Eleana! What are you doing to the girl!?”
His hands came up to grip her arms, but she pushed him away in disgust and extended her palm toward the child. 
“I told you—she’s nothing. Just a bit of collateral damage.”
Eleana’s eyes darkened to an inky black and the little girl began to cry, struggling as the primal essence her life force was cruelly ripped away. 
“Eleana stop! Let her go! You can’t do this!”
“OF COURSE I CAN!” she snarled. “I’ve done it before.”
Jungkook’s eyes widened. 
“But-but your hair—”
“I’ve been brewing a potion to cover it for years! How could I be satisfied with the meager energy of animals when a single human life can make me more powerful than the high queen!”
The girl screamed again and Jungkook ran to her side, yanking and pulling at the ropes around her small wrists in horrified desperation. 
“It’s too late!” Eleana shouted. “The ritual has already begun. You cannot save her now!”
The prince cradled the shaking child in his arms and sobbed out in anguish. 
He knew in his heart what had to be done—
… And that he must be the one to do it. 
“I can save her...” he whispered. “It is you who cannot be saved.”
A single tear drifted down the side of his cheek as he stretched out his palm toward the woman he loved. 
“I’m sorry...”
You gasped as the memory began to darken—holding your breath as the last few moments played through your mind—
—watching as the prince’s beautiful brown curls lightened to an unmistakable gold...
—watching him run to the lifeless Elaena and pull her against his chest in despair.  
“Oh my gods…” you whispered. “It wasn’t a spell. You—”
“I loved her.”
The words fell heavy on your heart like molten lead. 
It hurt to hear them—and you could not bear to think about why. 
Heavens above I’ve been a fool. 
Jeon Jungkook was far more complicated than you realized. 
Though… perhaps a part of you had always known that. 
“Your hair was dark in the vision until…” You swallowed convulsively. “Was… was that—”
The prince’s eyes were strangely hollow. 
“I’ve only ever taken one life.” His gaze held yours with quiet intensity. “Hers.”
The word lingered like poison in the scant space between you—even as emotions too strong and too numerous to identify churned chaotically through your senses. 
This man was such a fascinating force in your life—a question you kept trying to answer over and over again without success. 
After a moment Jungkook slowly turned his back to you, resting his weight against the mantle with a weary sigh. 
For the first time you realized just how close the two of you had come to one another. 
“I’m sorry…” you whispered.
“I can’t imagine why you’re apologizing. You’ve made it quite clear what you think of me.”
“I don’t know what to think of you at all… Why won’t you let them tell the truth?”
Indignation and self-loathing warred over his features as he swung around abruptly. 
“Because the truth is—that I would rather they all believe I was a spoiled, bewitched pawn and not a monster who used his own grotesque abilities to kill the woman he loved!”
“No!” You shook your head fiercely, “You saved that little girl!”
“And I lost myself!”
You gasped at the violent bitterness behind his words. 
The raw pain in his voice—in his expression—was heart wrenching; such a departure from the normally arrogant and apathetic prince. 
“Jungkook,” you breathed sympathetically, but he kept going—almost as if he hadn’t heard you. 
“My honor, my dignity, my self-respect —perhaps even my chance to forge a bond… All of it died with Elaena.” 
“That’s not true! You chose to do the right thing—to protect an innocent life—even if it meant sacrificing someone you loved! That is a truly noble act.”
“Noble?... Are you blind, Mistress? Everyone, including you, regards me with fear and distrust. All anyone sees when they look at me is a monster.” 
“Stop saying that. You’re not a monster—”
“Oh?” He leaned in again, crowding your space, “Then what am I?”
Your breath caught. Your eyes widened in response to his proximity—
—and Jeon Jungkook forcibly bit back a groan. 
Gods but you were so unpardonably beautiful up close it was almost painful. 
He couldn’t say what compelled him to reveal the truth of his past to you or why all of his carefully maintained defenses routinely seemed to fade away in your presence. He spent so much time pushing others back and yet—by instinct rather than by choice—he was always trying to bring you closer. 
Even now—as uncomfortable as it was to have the darkest parts of his soul laid bare before you… 
He could not bring himself to regret it. 
“To that little girl… you’re a hero,” you whispered softly.  
Surprise flickered briefly acros his gaze. It was clear he had not expected such an admission from you. His eyes seemed to search your face for signs of mockery and for a moment you were thoroughly ashamed of yourself. 
“Then what am I to you?” he asked finally. 
You paled. 
“...W-what?”
There was nothing but a whisper of space separating you now. You could practically feel his breath against your skin when he spoke.
“If I am not a monster… then I must be something else.” His eyes locked with yours significantly. “So what am I to you?”
Oh gods, help. 
It should have been such a simple question. 
But it wasn’t. 
And it became increasingly more complicated with every moment that passed between you. Something dark and inviting stirred restlessly beneath the surface each and every time your paths crossed...
You could feel it. 
But you could not afford to acknowledge it—and he could never seem to let it go. 
“Eleana was the monster,” you insisted firmly, twisting your response away from dangerous territory, “—and you cannot continue to let her control your life like this.”
Jungkook drew back with a frustrated growl. 
“She is not controlling my life! You think I’m mourning her? The person I loved was a lie. She never even existed!”
“Exactly! You were the victim every step of the way… So why are you punishing yourself?”
His eyes hardened. 
“You’re taking shots in the dark now, Mistress,” he warned.
“Am I? You’ve locked yourself away in that dungeon you call a lab for the past four years. Barely twenty five winters, but you walk like a beaten man. Elaena may not have bewitched you, but she still has her hands wrapped around your throat.” 
Jungkook snapped forward with a strangled roar and seized both your arms—yanking you close to him once more. Sharp, spiraling heat shot through your veins as you met his livid black gaze.
“You have no right to speak to me that way. You have never been in love. You don’t know what it is to lose it!”
“I love your brother—”
“You do not know my brother! And he does not know you.”
“Of course he knows me!”
“Does he, Sandflower?” Jungkook addressed you intimately once again—not caring that he was forbidden to do so. “Does he know how you light up the moment you win an argument? Or see the smile you save for finding that solution no one else could? Does he even realize that you hide an insatiable passion behind that chilling calm? Answer me, woman!”
But you could not.
Jeon Jungkook had seen you.
He had seen you.
—and the truth he threw in your face cut deeply.
For years you searched for a partner who would suit you. Someone who needed you. Someone safe and comfortable... 
Someone like Jin who was kind and charming and often benefited from your perspectives.
… And yet—
 Something was missing.
You didn’t want Jin as a woman should want her mate… and you always suspected—on some level—that he did not want you (in that way) either.
Perhaps it will come with time. Perhaps I’m just nervous—you reassured yourself over and over again.
But here and now—after everything that had happened—the truth was unavoidable.
You did not feel with Jin.
Not like when you argued your theories at the academic tribunals. Not like when you traveled to every corner of the kingdom just to satisfy your curiosity. Not like—
Your breath caught.
Not like with Jungkook.
All at once the truth crashed over you like flood waves from a broken dam. 
It wasn’t anger, or resent, or even frustration that flared chaotically through your system every time he got too close—
It was desire.
When the prince saw his accusations confirmed in your troubled gaze, he lashed out and seized your wrist.
“How can you even wear his brace-”
He stopped cold. 
It wasn’t there.
“Where is the bracelet?” 
His entire being seemed to suspend within a single question.
“It didn’t close,” you said breathlessly.
Then your eyes changed. From guarded to almost… hopeful.
Inviting.
Just for an instant.
But it was enough. 
Every urge—every impulse—every desperate longing he caged out of self-preservation suddenly broke free with a vengeance.
Jungkook dragged you completely into his arms, bringing your face mere breaths from his.
“You can never belong to him,” he growled as his lips came crashing down on yours.
Oh sweet merciful heavens.
You had allowed Jin to kiss you before. He was your betrothed after all and the few tender kisses you shared with him were quite sweet, very pleasant, utterly polite—
And nothing—absolutely nothing—like this.
Dark, wicked heat poured through your body in relentless waves as his mouth moved against yours, giving and taking with unmistakable hunger. 
He tasted like summer and wonder and every wish you ever whispered into the wind under the stars. 
Jeon Jungkook was definitely the wrong brother and you were an upstart from the wrong class—but oh...
This was so indescribably right. 
Your breath caught as the prince bore you back into the wall, desperate for any part of you he could touch— and you opened to him willingly—eagerly—as if you had done so a thousand times. 
As if you belonged to him...
You shouldn’t want this. You knew better—but instead of pushing him away you pressed forward shamelessly, tangling your fingers into his hair as you melted against him. 
The contrast of his muscular frame intertwining with your supple curves was unspeakably erotic. Everything about this man was unspeakably erotic and your body responded to his with hedonistic fervor. 
One of his hands slammed against the ornate surface behind you and suddenly the beautifully rendered woodlands frozen within that absurdly expensive wallpaper hummed with magic—coming to life beneath his fingertips even as he poured his passion into you. 
Trees began to bloom. Animals began to move. The sky shifted in between previously inanimate branches. Spring broke forth from the four walls around you—
But neither of you noticed. 
For you and he there was nothing beyond the explosive longing that had waited too long and too bitterly for release. 
"Gods woman, you drive me crazy,” he rasped, drawing back momentarily for a breath before plundering your lips again. The rough timbre of his voice—so obviously dazed with desire—shot a fresh wave of arousal down your spine. 
There would be a reckoning for this moment, of that you were certain—
… yet it no longer mattered. 
The pain and humiliation of the last several hours lifted off your shoulders in favor of an incredible lightness. Everything in your world narrowed down to the feel of your heartbeat next to his. 
You had slept on the streets of the Wastes, claimed unprecedented academic prestige, ascended to the gilded halls of the Grand Palace—but nothing had ever felt like him. 
And nothing had ever felt like home—
Until him. 
Jungkook—for his part—did not intend to kiss you, or hold you, or hoist you up against the wall as he was currently doing, but when his hand closed over your bare wrist an unholy triumph had blazed to life in the depths of his defeated soul. 
Elation the likes of which he’d never known suddenly flooded his senses. 
Jin may have found you first, but he would be the one to claim you. 
You were his. 
He knew it from the moment he watched you dismantle that overblown alchemist like a warrior queen. 
The day the council approved your betrothal he felt as if his world was ripped in half. 
It was unthinkable. 
How could you belong to his brother when it was his soul that burned for you?
Watching you stand next to Jin, smiling and accepting congratulations with that pleasantly vacant smile on your face, had been the last straw. 
That night he ran as far away as he could, hoping to escape you… but it was never far enough. 
You haunted him relentlessly.  And he soon discovered that there was no point in putting distance between you—
Not when you were already in his heart.  
In the end he returned to Dionysia determined to face his fate—only to find that he had been right all along. 
“I’ve always loved Sandflowers. Did you know that?”
You gasped as he began to press hot open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat. 
“I-I didn’t know.” 
You didn’t know your own name at this point, so that wasn’t saying much. 
“It’s true,” he hummed, sucking a trail of pretty pink marks into the soft skin along your collarbone. You whined breathlessly at his boldness, losing yourself in each new sensation until he spoke again. 
“Sandflowers flourish and grow where nothing else can. They’re incredibly strong,” he pressed forward, melding the hard lines of his body into yours till his center ground against your throbbing core, “yet still so beautiful and soft.”
Nimble fingers pulled at the laced sides of your elegant betrothal dress—loosening the ties till he could slip through and brush over your bare skin. 
“They cannot be kept in vases on desks or in little glass houses… Nothing so fragile could ever contain them.”
You moaned needily and his breath caught as the sound of it curled through him like an echo from his wildest dreams. 
“I thought—”
“I know what you thought,” he whispered, fisting his hand in your hair to gain better access to the delectable curve of your neck. “And I let you think it because it was easier if you hated me.” 
Your eyes flew open as he reached lower, sliding his hands under your dress to fully reveal the smooth legs wrapped around his body. One firmly muscled thigh suddenly pressed directly into the warmth of your swollen cunt—
And then he began to move. 
“Jungkook—oh my gods!” 
Pleasure—urgent and messy—rippled out from your center in all directions, overtaking you in a way that felt utterly primal and uncivilized. Your body trembled as he rutted against yours folds, opening even further to accommodate that glorious new friction. 
The sounds he drew out of you were incoherent—unhinged even. Mindlessly, you moved to cover your lips but his hand suddenly closed over your wrist and pinned it to the wall. 
“You sound so sweet,” he murmured in between thrusts, “so perfect.”
Your gown was slowly coming apart, slipping further and further down till it barely clung to the swells of your breast.
The need building between your legs was fast becoming unbearable. You were racing toward some sort of breaking point when you felt his hands latch around your hips and lift you onto a nearby decorative table—shattering the lamp and what was certainly a priceless antique vase as he swept them aside to make room. 
The sound of glass breaking against the tile barely registered through the haze of desire pulsing between you—and neither of you noticed when the larger shards sprouted shimmering gossamer wings and began to flutter whimsically around the light fixtures. 
Instead you were mewling pitifully at the unacceptable emptiness between your thighs and pulling at him in an attempt to soothe your frustration. 
“Shhh,” he chuckled, “I’ve got you.”
His mouth played lazily over your skin as he leaned you back, lowering himself till his lips hovered over the greedy tips of your breasts.
Some distant part of your mind knew that this was beyond scandalous. 
The once beautiful betrothal garment pooled at your waist, leaving your top and bottom bare to the hungry gaze of a man who was definitely not your betrothed. 
Then his tongue darted out to give one tightened peak the slightest flick and you hissed as sensation twisted through you. 
“These are exquisite,” he mused naughtily and you whined in response—arching toward him without conscious thought as his words wound around you like the strangest spell—warming you from the inside out with their simple forthright magic. 
Finally he leaned forward and drew one tormented nub into his mouth with obvious obscene pleasure and—heavens above—it felt so good you almost blacked out. 
“Oh my—please yes,” you keened as he sucked noisily. 
Wetness flooded between your thighs as that desperate need for release continued to build recklessly. Your fingers curled into his hair as he serviced you, switching between the twin swells of your breast with greedy satisfaction till the stimulation was nearly overwhelming. 
“Gods what a dream you are” he growled, worrying your swollen nub gently between his teeth, “so bare and needy.” 
He moved forward to kiss you again and you gasped as his hand slid down to stroke the wet linen of your undergarments. 
“Does it feel like this when he touches you?” he whispered against your lips, letting his fingers trace your sodden slit with deliberate intent. 
You could only whimper in response as he continued, drawing the fabric aside to caress your bare folds. 
“Do you make these noises for him?”
You shook your head frantically. “No, Jin never—ah!”
Jungkook growled at the sound of his brother’s name on your lips and slid his fingers forward, breaching the tight heat of your virgin cunt for the first time.
The pain and pleasure were so sharp and deliciously potent that you threw your head back and cried out loud. 
“Of course not,” he snarled, “because he doesn’t want you like I do. He isn’t driven near to madness at the thought of you in another man’s arms.”
Your hips swayed forward desperately at the sudden foreign fullness—searching instinctively for more. Jungkook wasted no time locating that sweet secret spot inside of you, pressing and coaxing it with such reverent persistence it was almost spiritual. 
“That’s it, pretty one,” he murmured heatedly. “Take what you need.”
Wanton cries poured out as you rutted against his hand, rubbing your swollen clit lewdly over his knuckles while he moaned filthy praises against your skin. 
“Let me have you, Sandflower,” he whispered, curling his fingers into your soaked cunt till the arousal slid messily over his hand. “Let me show you what it’s like to be adored.”
“Yes!” you sobbed as a sharp peak of pleasure finally overtook you. 
Jungkook growled in triumph as he pressed his lips to yours again—savoring the sounds of your pleasure while he worked you gently through your first release. 
How could there be such a feeling in this world? 
And why was he the only one who had ever let you feel it—this indescribable thrill that transcended mere physical pleasure to approach something almost like…
Freedom. 
You had barely a moment to recover from your high before Jungkook was hauling you off the table and fully into his arms. 
Vaguely you acknowledged that he was taking you to his room (and what was probably going to happen there) but you were too preoccupied with tearing him out of his shirt to worry about the consequences now.
Your bridges were burning and you fully intended to dance in the flames. 
Every room you stumbled past on the way to his chambers was steadily overtaken with the same strange magic that had bloomed through the drawing room. 
Fires spontaneously flared in dormant fireplaces, figurines twitched to life, newly sentient ancestral portraits looked down in scandalized confusion at the oblivious (and enthusiastic) couple staggering through their halls...
And Pippin went tearing out to hide in his miniature outdoor doggie castle after seeing a fox chase a colony of rabbits through the wallpaper in the dining room. 
Your clothes were fully discarded by the time you finally crashed over the threshold of the prince’s quarters in a scramble of limbs and hungry desperation. (The tattered remains of your expensive betrothal gown would later be discovered beneath a traumatized painting of Jungkook’s great aunt Mildred.)
“You cannot possibly know what you’ve done to me,” he whispered, lowering you onto his bed, “—how I’ve ached to be close to you...”
Part of you was so afraid that this was a trick. That you would wake up to discover that the words he was saying were nothing more than a cruel and elaborate lie—
But there was such utter conviction in his voice as he spoke—such awe in his gaze as he took in the sight of you uncovered before him. 
Yet you barely had time to be moved by it before he was kissing you again. 
An irresistible magnetism charged in the air between you, mixing potently with palpable relief and the downright joyous acceptance of a passion that—in hindsight—felt oddly inevitable. 
All you could think about—all you wanted— was him. The spark between you had been building for far too long. Now it blazed out of control.
Technically you had never explored this level of intimacy with a man before, but your body seemed to find rhythm with his instinctively—as if it had waited for the perfect moment to shake off its mask of civility and revel in its true primal purpose. 
You should have been self-conscious—shy even—but those impulses simply never arose … Not in his arms. Not with his words wrapping around you like the warmth of a morning sun. 
Arousal soaked the soft core of your body and Jungkook hissed in pleasure as the thick solid length of his cock slid messily over your folds. 
“This might hurt.”
“Doesn’t everything?” you asked softly. 
The words were out of your mouth before you could think to stop them and the prince’s eyes flew up to lock with yours. 
There was nothing between you now—no clothes, no defenses...
No regrets. 
“Yes... It did,” he whispered, “until you.”
Tears drifted down your cheek as you lifted your hand to his face. 
“Jungkook…”
Then he surged forward—sinking himself into you entirely with one perfect thrust. 
The feel of him nestled deeply in your sensitive heat was equal parts overwhelming and addictive. Your body bowed back in primitive gratification and for a moment you swore the sky mural on the ceiling sparked with literal lightning. 
Power unlike anything Jungkook had ever experienced surged violently through his blood causing him to throw his head back with a mighty roar. 
What are you? he thought dizzily as pleasure and magic raged over him. What is happening
The initial pain from being stretched so tightly morphed instantaneously into hot molten pleasure and you surged forward, bringing your mouth to his again.
Jungkook leaned back against the headboard, pulling your intimately joined bodies upright till you were facing one another. 
“So good,” he gasped against your lips and your walls tightened at the sound of his praise. 
His hand drifted down between to stroke your clit and you shuddered, reveling in the combination of fullness and stimulation. Your hips jerked forward involuntarily and you both groaned at the delicious friction.
“Hold on to me,” he whispered. 
Then his hands clamped into the soft curve of your waist as he lifted you, sliding your heat up the solid length of his shaft only to slam you back down over him again. 
“Yes!” You were nearly incoherent with pleasure—reveling in the sheer strength it took to work you up and down on his cock.
Words spilled out past your lips like the tides of a rising flood—words of adoration and want whimpered prettily into his skin like a prayer as he worked himself in your cunt.
That explosive release was building up again; Jungkook could tell by the way your body trembled wantonly against his own. 
“Look at me,” he growled, “I wanna watch you fall apart.”
His words were like kindling on an already raging fire. Every time he spoke it made you hotter. 
Look at me, Jeon Jungkook. 
Look at what you’ve done to me. 
You drew back, opening your eyes to let him see you—dazed and euphoric as you bounced like a toy on his cock. 
The sound of him pistoning in and out of your sloppy wet cunt filled the air around you, braiding in between your keening and filthy lascivious moans—
But everything else fell away when your gaze finally locked together with his. 
No one had ever looked at you like that. 
Like you were priceless.
Like you were everything. 
“I never hated you,” you gasped, unable to let the truth go unspoken for another moment. 
A beautiful smile bloomed over his features. 
“I know.” 
You came then—tightening brutally around him like a velvet vice. Jungkook shook with restraint as he worked you through it, letting the feel of your release build into his own. 
“Your sweet little pussy is holding on to me so tight, Sandflower. Let me come inside you please? You like being full don’t you? Isn’t that why you’re so messy, baby? You just want to be filled.”
“Yes!” you screamed. 
“Say it,” he growled, digging his fingers into the soft rolls of your hips for leverage as his pace increased. “Tell me who made your little pussy this needy.”
“You did!”
“And what do you want me to do about it, huh?” 
“Fill me up please,” you sobbed deliriously. 
Your pretty begging sent him over the edge with a carnal groan. His head dropped heavily onto your shoulder as he spilled into your womb, filling you till the evidence of his pleasure ran down your leg.
“I’ll give you anything,” he swore. “Anything you want.”
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Dawn trickled in slowly through the windows, spreading soft tendrils of light over the bed where you lay next to him.
Your mind was torn between elation and guilt. But your body...
Your body could still feel the imprint of his fingers where they cupped your jaw—could still hear the tender words he whispered across your skin…
Anxiety and reality begin to claw through the haze of pleasure.
Oh gods… 
What have I done?
You were betrothed to his brother.
… Yet it was Jungkook’s name you called into the darkness.
Jungkook who broke through your maidenhead as you writhed and begged beneath him.
Your passion raged well into the night, and now you lay in knots beside him, watching his chest rise and fall in soothing rhythm even as your own thoughts spiraled out of control.
In the end, you wrenched your gaze away out of self-preservation. 
Dawn provided enough light to make out the books and artifacts lying haphazardly on the small drafting table next to his bed. Notes lay strewn among piles of discarded quills and glass bottles...
Then your eyes caught on a distinctive shape resting in a glass case near the center of the desk.
After a moment’s hesitation—you reached forward cautiously to retrieve it.
This must be his.
Jungkook’s bracelet was very different from his brother’s. Jin’s was ostentatious—covered in sparkling rubies and square-cut diamonds—it didn’t suit your tastes at all. In fact, you remembered cringing at the thought of wearing it for the rest of your life...
But this piece was exquisite.
Thick golden vines and delicate leaves braided intricately around each other in a complicated pattern to form the width of the band… 
It was the most beautiful bonding bracelet you had ever seen.
Suddenly Jungkook stirred beside you and your heart broke all over again.
How could I have been so blind?
Stifling a gasp, you could no longer hold back the tears that drifted down your cheek as you studied the bracelet—knowing you would hate whoever wore it.
Or perhaps it would never activate—not if Elaena was his soulmate. It would have died with her life force.
Still...
You turned to make sure Jungkook remained asleep.
For a moment… I can pretend...
I can pretend he’s mine.
Holding your breath you carefully slid the bracelet over your hand and pressed it to your wrist—right at the pulse point—
And it burned. For several seconds it burned everywhere—inside and out.
Then it stopped as abruptly as it began. Your eyes flew to your wrist in alarm–
No... 
It can’t be. 
The golden vines of Jungkook’s bracelet wove together in a perfect fit, bound irrevocably beneath a glowing rune directly above your pulse—the same rune that sealed every bracelet pair.
An Integra rune.
It meant complete.
“Oh...”
Frantically you began to tug at the bracelet, but it molded stubbornly to your wrist and would not disengage. Panic closed in from every side.
This cannot be happening! I had no right! The Council will be furious—
And Jungkook…
I never meant to trap you.
“... Sandflower?”
The heat of the bond forming had roused the prince from a heavy slumber. For a moment his gaze was soft and disoriented—until it landed on the glowing bracelet wrapped around your wrist and his eyes widened in shock. 
You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Your soul was laid bare before him and he could destroy your with a word.
Tentatively he reached forward, lifting his fingers to trace the rune.
“Complete…” he breathed reverently. Then his eyes found yours. “It's complete.”
You gasped as he pulled you close, tenderly brushing away your tears.
“You are mine,” he whispered, unable to disguise the wonder in his voice.
Hope swelled in your chest.
“I love you.” 
The words escaped without conscious thought, but his smile came too quickly for you to regret them.
He kissed you then and you moaned happily against his mouth as he lifted you from the bed to gather you fully into his arms. After a long moment he drew back, resting his forehead tenderly against yours.
Joy warmed through him for the first time in nearly a decade.
“It’s so much more than I imagined.”
You smiled and shook your head. “What is?”
“Love,” he sighed against your lips. “Love when it’s real.”
Real…
This was real. 
Jeon Jungkook was yours. 
And you were his...
Happiness swirled around you in glorious waves—
Only to be replaced by absolute shock when your mind finally registered the state of Jungkook’s bedroom. 
“Oh my celestial gods! What happened?”
The entire chamber was—for lack of a better word—alive. 
Glass shard butterflies fluttered romantically around the windows. Thick leafy vines sprouted out from the wooden frames of the bed and chairs. The clouds painted over the ceiling drifted lazily across the plaster sky. The tea service on his dressing table was serving itself and the ancient sea battle painting positioned above the fireplace raged violently within its frame—complete with canon fire and tiny little pirates sword-fighting across the canvas decks. 
Jungkook huffed out an astonished chuckle as he took it all in. 
“Actually… I think it was… us.”
A hysterical laugh bubbled up in your throat. 
Perhaps the rush of the bond forming has made him delirious. 
“Jeon Jungkook… I’m not sure what you were up to last night, but I was certainly far too busy to enchant your bedroom furniture with…” you shook your head incredulously, “wildly advanced magic.”
Jungkook crossed his arms and leaned forward in mock disapproval. 
“There you go again, Sandflower, assuming the world revolves around you—”
“It should, you know. I’m very important.”
“Of course you are—but do recall that I said it was us—not you. And it's true—we are absolutely the cause.” He smiled softly, letting his gaze wander around the room again. “Honestly it was so obvious every time we fought—I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out sooner...”
Jungkook’s expression was radiant when he finally turned back to you. His whole body seemed to hum with barely contained excitement. 
“You’re a polarity mage.”
Huh? 
“I’m… I’m a what?”
“A polarity mage—it’s an ancient magic—no one’s seen it in centuries because all the bloodlines that carried it were lost but…” his eyes darted over to where his quills were writing nasty notes to each other about who had the sharper tip, “it’s the only explanation.”
You drew back and began aggressively massaging your temples. A lot had happened in the last twenty-four hours and your brain was starting to hurt. 
“Jungkook, you’ll have to walk me through this—I’ve never even heard of polarity magic and now you’re saying I’ve used it—”
“Polarity mages can reverse the nature of any magic. They’re the natural counterpart of a necromancer because their abilities combine to form a balanced symbiotic pair.” 
He turned toward the dresser and carefully retrieved his favorite set of earrings. Then he held out his hand to reveal the two little jewelry bits dancing excitedly over his palm. 
“A necromancer can drain and manipulate life force—but we cannot increase or transfer it. However, when our energy combines with the aura of a polarity mage the result is—”
“Creative magic...” 
Your eyes widened in shock. 
Creative magic was nearly impossible to perform—the skill and experience required was extraordinary. What he was saying could not possibly be true…
And yet everything around you testified that it was. 
“But... how could I not have known?” 
Jungkook grinned. 
“Because polarity magic is mostly dormant until activated by a profound emotional catalyst—which—in this case…” he leaned forward to brush his lips gently over yours, “was me.”
“Mmm,” you hummed as he leisurely explored your neck with his mouth as if he hadn’t just dropped a life-altering revelation in your lap. “So am I going to have to hear about how you awakened my magic for the rest of our lives?”
“You really do know me so well,” he sighed, nosing playfully at the silky skin beneath your jaw. 
Unfortunately, the earrings—sensing they were about to be dropped—chose that moment to dig their spiky hooks into the meaty flesh of his palm. 
“Nasty little beasties aren’t you,” he chuckled. drawing back to dislodge the bloodthirsty jewelry. 
Your eyes widened in shock once again. 
“Jungkook… your scar…” Your gaze flew to your own hand and you gasped—not quite believing what you were seeing. “Our-our scars they’re—”
They were gone.
Completely gone—as if they had never been there to begin with. 
You ran your fingers over that small patch of flesh that had once symbolized the inescapable stain of your past. 
But there was nothing. 
Jungkook had fallen completely silent. After a moment you finally lifted your head to discover that his eyes were welling with tears. 
“I understood—somewhere in the back of my mind—that creative magic had healing and restorative potential, but I never expected—” the words caught painfully in his throat and he clenched his jaw as the emotions threatened to overwhelm him. “...I thought I would die with that scar.”
The significance of his words—of this moment—was not lost on you.
You had both come to believe that the damage inflicted by your pasts was irreversible. 
And you were wrong. Gloriously wrong. 
Healing and restoration were entirely possible when the two of you were together. 
Jungkook wrapped his arms tightly around you and for a long while you simply held on to one another in tearful silence. 
“My abilities were a curse,” he whispered, “but you have made them a redemption.”
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꧁Epilogue꧂
Six Hours Later...
Jungkook shifted uncomfortably as his brother paced about the room.
“And she just… went to bed with you like she wasn’t betrothed to me two hours beforehand?”
“I’m not sure if answering that is—”
“Jungkook—”      
“She did. It… happened.” He cleared his throat. “Repeatedly.”
He tried very hard not to grin.
Jin pretended not to notice.
“And you’re willing to face the consequences of this? To potentially fight our parents—the Council—centuries of sacred tradition… For her?”
“I was willing to cross many lines for Elaena,” Jungkook’s fists clenched, “—but nothing will separate me from her.” He rose to his full height and loomed menacingly. “And that includes you.”
A small smile twitched at the corner of Jin’s mouth.
“Good. That’s what she deserves.”
Jungkook’s jaw dropped. His eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“You’re being awfully accommodating and supportive right now, big brother…”
“Well… The thing is—” Jin shook his head. “Okay. Let me start over.” He took a deep breath. “Do you remember that deranged woman who drives me absolutely insane?”
Jungkook blinked several times and Jin attempted to be more specific.
“You know—the one from work who keeps bothering me with her face and her hip swaying and her total inability to see reason—”
“… Lin Yuna? That sweet archivist who bakes cookies for everyone?”
“Everyone but me!”
“My mistake,” Jungkook coughed.
“Yes… Well—she’s an expert on bonding bracelets. So I headed directly over to her office when my bracelet didn’t close to see if she could check it for some sort of… hex–or something—”
"You have no idea how craft works, do you?”
“None whatsoever.”
“Alright then—”
“Well we got in a fight—because she is the most unreasonable woman in the entire kingdom. And I accused her of being jealous—for some reason. Then she accused me of being an impulsive hot-head—which was rude. So I grabbed my bracelet and shouted ‘how’s this for impulsive!’ and I slipped it right over her hand and–”
“It closed.”
“It bloomin closed! On the wrist of a woman who has literally dumped tea on me five separate times!”
“Well… What did she do?”
“She screamed at me for a solid hour.” Jin’s face broke into a slow grin. “Then she screamed my name for several solid hours.” His eyes glazed over a bit. “I am unreasonably in love with her.”
Jungkook groaned and ran his hand over his face.
“Ooh, we are in so much trouble.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mom is going to kill us.”
“Exactly—which is why I think it might be best if we approach the Council together and explain to them—and our parents—why we’ve been casually slapping sacred bonding bracelets on women.”
“Technically my woman was the one slapping—”
“Reeaally—”
“-the bracelet.” Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Gods, you’re an animal.”
“That’s what Yuna said–”
“I am formally begging you to stop.”
Jin chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender while Jungkook indulged in a generous chug of his wine. 
“That reminds me, little brother… Is there a reason all of our silverware can talk now? It made for a rather off-putting snack.” He shivered. “My fork started screaming every time I tried to take a bite of cheesecake.”
“... And you still kept eating it?”
“Of course I did. I’m a grown man. Wailing flatware is not going to keep me from cheesecake.”
Jungkook bit his lip—his eyes squeezed shut—
“It wasn’t that funny,” Jin grumbled several minutes later while his brother wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. 
“Yes. Yes it was.”
The elder prince just shook his head and sighed. “So… the Royal Council. Together?”
“I think that’s probably for the best.”
“... You have any idea what you’re going to say?”
Jungkook let out a long breath.
“How does ‘I seduced my brother’s betrothed the moment I found out she couldn’t marry him’ sound?”
Jin winced.
“Needs work.”
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Endnote: This story gave me a ton of trouble and I had to tear it apart and put it back together so many times I lost count. It has been through a hundred different versions (I originally posted a very different version of it for another fandom, but it barely resembles that early draft). Feedback and support is incredibly powerful magic. Even just the love you guys left on the teaser helped me with pushing through and posting. Please let me know what you thought of my story. I promise to treasure every word you say. The love people show my work fuels my creativity and keeps me posting. Truly it means so much...
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joyfulhopelox · 2 months ago
Text
re:posal | jjk
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Pairing: Jungkook x reader (marriage au, est. relationship)
Summary: From the sleeposal to a re:posal. Jungkook doubles down on his promise with unexpected results.
Genre: fluff, romance
Wordcount: 6.3k
Warning: reference to sex (once)
r: pg
A/N: Sequel to sleeposal drabble. I just couldn’t help myself. Thank you for the love sleeposal has gotten, this is my favourite pairing of all times so I had to write a sequel for them. Thank you @notyouroppar for doing this and supporting this madness. This can be read as a standalone but I would advise reading the first part for a bit more background.
Copyrights @joyfulhopelox for both the work and the banner
That being said please enjoy! I would love to hear from you so please leave me a message! 💌
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If there was one thing you appreciated about Jungkook, it was his ability to stay consistent about his wants and wishes. You could vividly remember the times he talked about his dream to perform outside of organised events. He worked day and night until he managed to secure gigs in private clubs. He was over the moon about it, and you shared his feelings. He deserved it more than anyone. The sheer talent he had always managed to leave you breathless. Naturally his career kicked off; more and more people were coming to his shows. The increase in public meant an increase in venue size, which in turn meant a change in management.
It was a no-brainer that the more popular he got, the busier he became. The time you two had to spend together turned from days in a row to a few hours in a day. To you, a person who was most of the time buried deep in organising events, it was an understandable fact. To him, a person who was ambitious but also impatient and head over heels with you, it became irksome.
He was grateful for the chance he got, he would never not be. Aware that the industry and career he decided to so avidly pursue was not an easy one, he was incredibly thankful for the attention his music managed to garner. However grateful though, he was mildly anxious about how that may have affected your relationship.
You weren’t aware of his feelings towards this situation, and never once have you been afraid that he would not be there next to you. The man who proposed to you in his sleep, was the man who would think of you from the moment he woke up until – well it turned out he thought of you even in his sleep. Memories of his display of affection made you giddy every time they crossed your mind. How could you ever doubt someone whose love transcended even in his subconscious?
Regardless of your reassurances though, Jungkook became adamant to prove to you that he was indeed in for the long haul. Resourceful as ever, he decided that no matter how much or little time with you he had, he would make sure that you never felt unloved by him. You may wear his ring on your finger, but that was not definite enough. Not for him.
It all started a few months after your impromptu engagement. You both postponed the Paris trip he had planned for the actual proposal until after your marriage – Paris was always a good spot for honeymoons and you were going to make the most of it. As an event organiser, you were well versed in planning a wedding and the steps you needed to take. It wasn’t difficult for you to get your own wedding checklist crossed off whilst you did it for others. Your connections were more than enough for you, and you had a general idea of what you wanted for your own event. What worried you though, was Jungkook’s complete detachment from it. It wasn’t that he wasn’t ready to help. If you gave him a clear task of helping you call a venue or a bakery he would jump at the opportunity and snatch the phone away from you even before you had a chance to finish your request. However, if you asked him to come up with fresh new ideas, or even asked for his opinion when it came to specific decisions you had to make– as a couple, he would fuss around and try to extract himself as fast as possible.
Unable to take his lack of initiative anymore, you decided to confront him during one of your late night film sessions. As both of you were tired from a full month of working long days and sleeping short nights, you both decided to stay in and enjoy your evening together.
“Who is going to cook?” You moaned from your comfortable position on the couch. Wrapped up in blankets, your eyelids drooped heavily. You were barely coherent but the thought had been plaguing your mind for the whole day.
“Love, I have a meeting with my manager until late tomorrow night, I would cook but that would mean we eat late.” Junkook smiled at you apologetically sitting down onto the edge, hand sliding underneath the blankets patting your bare leg gently. Moaning at the intrusion you shifted your position throwing him a playful glare for daring to intrude in your cosy space.
“It’s ok, I will cook, but-” Propping yourself up on your forearms you beamed at him. “If we get food poisoning I am claiming innocence right now.” You scooted away from him, chuckling as he poked you. “Will you have time this week to meet with the flower vendor?” You inquired, a heavy feeling settling in your stomach as soon as you saw his face fall.
“I don’t know if I can, we have a new song in the making, so most of the time may be spent in the studio.” He sighed, not sounding sorry in the least. With the sleep now gone, you scooted over to allow him to slide beneath the blanket. Starting the film you handed him the popcorn without a word, your mind mulling over whether you should confront him or not.
Not wanting to make a big deal out of it, as it wasn’t - not really, you threw it in your conversation during the film. So casually, that he all but sputtered the popcorn out of his mouth.
“Wait, what?” He shifted further away from you, eyes widening in surprise. His hair was mussed from running his hands through it multiple times, as was his habit. His freshly washed face, tired eyes, now wide awake, and mouth wide open made him look so youthful that you tried your best to stop your heart from exploding. Despite his apprehension to have any input in your wedding planning, you still found yourself very much in love with him. The butterflies exploding in your stomach when he placed a gentle kiss on your brow before leaving, or the urge to smile whenever he grabbed your hand and whispered that he loved you in the middle of the night whilst sleep talking - that never waned. It only got stronger after your engagement, and you were more than looking forward to being able to call him your husband.
“I…” You trailed off, suddenly the weight of his eyes on you was too much for you to handle. Feeling insecure and trying to convince yourself that maybe it was indeed your own imagination you tried to play it off as nothing. But one of the things that made you fall in love with Jungkook was how attentive he was. Once you’d said something to him he would fight tooth and nail to get to the bottom of it, and your question this time was no different
“Y/N, love. What do you mean?” He shifted back to his original spot, this time though his whole body engulfing yours as if he was afraid you’d disappear from view in the next second.
“I just…really think you’ve been going along with all I’ve been saying.” You hid your face into his chest hoping he wouldn’t hear it. Unfortunately for you, he not only heard every single word you uttered but he also engraved them into his heart. As painful as they were, they were your words. His heart was a diary of them.
He didn’t say anything, his arms wrapped around you tighter, moulding you to his side as he rested his chin on top of your head.
The smell of him was so familiar, it did an incredible job at calming down your racing heart. And with renewed courage you carried on your voice clearer and louder than it had been before. “I just think… I don’t know, it makes me feel like you don’t care about this as much as I do?” Your fists clenched around the thick material of his top, hoping you hadn’t upset him with your supposition and that he’d answer you this time.
When he heard what you thought, Jungkook stilled. His heart stopped and the air knocked out of his lungs. He felt akin to that one time he fell off the stage and onto his back, almost cracking a few ribs.
“No, Y/N. Why would you say that?” You’d known him for so long that with every misplaced breath, every waver in his voice – you could tell instantly what he was feeling. The strain in his voice told you everything you wanted to know; he was hurt, shocked and most importantly fearful. Hearing all these in two sentences made your heart constrict in your chest. You were afraid that this would happen, and you’d never intended it to go this way.
“Jungkook, look. I am sorry, that is not what I wanted to say, it’s just that.” You lightly pulled away, taking his hands in yours to reassure him you were not going anywhere. “I don’t know, I thought that maybe a wedding is not what you want after all.” Seeing the panic flash in his eyes you took a sharp intake of breath, quick to make things right. “No, no! That is not what I meant. I- gahhh” You pulled your hands away to tangle them in your hair, pulling at it in frustration. Nothing you could say would make things right and you knew it. You carelessly dropped a bomb on him, it would be a wonder if he did intend to marry you after this.
Hands gently grabbed yours pulling them away from your hair. Long slender fingers intertwined with yours and once again. Jungkook’s determination and kind heart blew you away. “Please stop pulling your hair, it’s not good for it.” He whispered, fingers playing with yours, gently tracing patterns on the inside of your palm. “Y/N, I don’t know what made you think I don’t want to marry you. Because I do.” You’ve been avoiding looking at him all this time, but he said the words with such conviction you couldn’t help but glance his way.
The fire and endless love in his eyes made you gasp, your eyes tingling with the first few tears for the night. “Jungkook.” You said your voice was nothing more than a whisper.
“I do, and I’ve wanted this for so long. I may not have opinions when it comes to planning.” He squeezed your hand lightly enough to ground you. “But that is because I want you to have the wedding that you want.” Hearing this confession you prepared to disagree with him, but he shushed you gently, his hand pulling yours into his lap effectively bringing you closer.
“I don’t care what type of flowers, colour scheme, if we have food or not, cake,” he scrunched his nose as if what he was about to say next pained him, “heck, I don’t even care what type of music we have.” Your watery laugh filled the living room, lightening up the mood. Because you knew he did care about the music – it was his passion after all.
“All I want,” his hand travelled up to cup your face, his thumb tracing the apple of your cheek softly wiping away the stray tear residing there, “is to know that you’re mine forever, to call you my wife.” Despite the levelled voice, you read the flash of insecurity in his voice and your heart clenched.
You didn’t think you’d be more in love with him, it never seemed like a possibility as your heart was already overflowing with adoration of the man in front of you. But as you both stood there, emotionally vulnerable, eyes locked, hearts beating rapidly with insecurity, you realised that it was impossible to not love him more and more with every passing moment.
“Jungkook.” It took you less than a second to attach yourself to him, his arms wrapping around your waist holding you flush against his own body. You tangled your hands in his hair as you buried your head into his neck.
“Silly,” you prepared to chide him for thinking so irrationally about your level of adoration for him. But as his hand gripped your top tighter, as if bracing himself for what you were about to say, you stopped. “I love you, and nothing will change that, regardless of the cake you say you want, regardless of the colour scheme. Fuck it,” you pulled away slightly eyes bright with laughter, “if you said let’s have an all black scheme,” you pointed to his usual dark coloured attire, “I wouldn’t hesitate to say yes.”
Jungkook couldn’t help but snort at your exaggeration. “You wouldn’t.” He declared and you chuckled at his incredulous tone.
“I wouldn’t actually, no. An Addams Family themed wedding is not my thing, as much as I love you in all black.” You leaned in to press your lips to his in a chaste kiss. “Just like you wouldn’t enjoy a foodless wedding.” You whispered against his lips enjoying his agonised moan at the thought before you pressed your lips to his harder.
Your reassurance was enough to quench his insecurities – at least in your eyes. But you’d forgotten how determined he could be. And with a few more months leading up to your wedding he prepared to cement his proposal.
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Following your emotional release the previous night, you should’ve known better than to expect a quiet morning from your fiancé. You weren’t anticipating walking into a refurbished kitchen when you woke up in the early hours of the morning. Ready to make the coffee for the both of you, eyes still hazy with sleep, you stopped dead in your tracks. Awed at the sight you stood in the doorway mouth slightly agape as you took in the array of paper covering every inch of your kitchen. It looked as if someone’ decided to use post-its as wallpaper in an attempt to recreate an edgy interior design.
Hesitantly you reached for the first one that you saw, your mind focused on reading the messages rather than on your usual morning routine. ‘I promise to spend forever loving you so please spend forever as my wife.’ Jungkook’s unmistakable writing, read. One after the other you picked them all up, the more you took in the more your eyes filled with tears until they were slowly dripping down your cheeks in a steady stream. He had written on all of them in his words, lyrics, poems and amusingly, drawings; all of them were him asking you to marry him over and over again.
“Y/N?” Just when you were about to reach the last one, the culprit’s sleepy voice called out from behind you. Not bothering to wipe the tears off your face you grabbed as many notes as you could before you turned around to face him.
“Jungkook, what,” you waved the stash of notes at him, “are you doing?” You knew you sounded less emotional than you were, but with the tremendous effort it took you to keep your tears at bay, you didn’t have the power to sound less demanding.
“Are you– are you crying?” Jungkook paused mid stretch, his eyes widening with surprise. Taking a step forward he reached for one of the notes that fell on the floor before placing it gently back onto the wall. “Are you upset? Did you not like it?” He sounded so hesitant he took the wind out of your sails.
Sniffling you prepared to answer, only to burst into tears once more. You did like it, and you wanted to convey it to him, yet it felt like the tears would not stop anytime soon. So instead of using your words you decided to show him. Not thinking about the repercussions you barrelled into his arms, wrapping yours around his waist and burying your head into him.
“You’re so….” You hiccuped, your emotions playing tag with each other. On one hand you wanted to keep bawling in his arms, on the other hand you wanted to laugh at his ridiculousness. And an even stronger part of you wanted to slap him for being so dramatic.
Jungkook didn’t know what to make of it, his hesitation to hug you was only overpowered by his need to comfort you. “I’m so what baby?” He urged you softly, his hand rubbing up and down your back in circles as if he was cradling a baby. You didn’t say anything for a moment, enjoying his soft scent of fresh laundry and the warmth that radiated off of him. He was your comfort, your lifeline, he was soon to be yours forever.
The thought of it, paired with his grand gesture made your heart overflow with emotion once more and you couldn’t help but let more tears fall, your hands digging into his sides for support. Not once did he complain, the knowledge of you hurting in any way made him want to fight to protect you, regardless of what he would have to go against.
“You’re such a dumbass.” You finally sputtered, the tears slowly subsiding. “You didn’t have to do all this.” Pulling yourself away from him, his arms barely allowing you room to move, you wiped the tears off your face before continuing. “You already proposed to me. There was no need for all of this.” You argued even though he hadn’t said anything.
Jungkook stared at you for a second, his eyes bright, the adoration radiating off of him making your insides melt with love. He didn’t say anything before he grasped your face suddenly, his lips crashing down on you in an ardent kiss. His lips soft and warm, roughly pressed against yours sent a jolt of electricity down your spine. The feeling was enough to make you shiver with need. You moaned softly into the kiss as he pressed himself against you, your frozen form responding instantly to his touch. Your hands gripped at his shoulders to steady yourself as his hand travelled to your thigh, hooking your leg around his waist.
You were both panting when you pulled away, hands still gripping every inch of each other as if you were trying to find grounding in each other. Jungkook sighed leaning his forehead against yours, hand brushing away the hair off your face.
“We don’t have time.” You rasped, still trying to catch your breath.
“No.” He disagreed, disappointment laced with lust clear in his voice.
“We need to get ready for work.” You tried again, your words contradicting your actions, your hands still holding firmly onto him.
“Yes.” He agreed, his thumb rubbing at the sensitive skin behind your ear. Your skin prickled with goosebumps and the desire to let him have you in the kitchen amongst his love confessions pulled at you too strongly. Yet the thought of being late for your meeting with the florist made you let go of him reluctantly.
“Tonight.” You promised, stepping aside to put some distance between you. Your brain was still drunk with his scent, making it hard to think further than that.
“Yes but,” he bit his lip, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. “Can you please humour me?” He motioned to the crumpled notes on the floor.
Your gaze softened, you realised he was indeed serious in his proposal and not trying to make light of it. Looking at him earnestly you allowed him to grab your hand, your own squeezing in reassurance.
“Jeon Jungkook,” you felt the humour wash away, the love and adoration you had for the handsome man in front of you overpowering anything else. “There is no universe in which I would not marry you. So yes, I do.”
Public proposal? Billboard on the highway- with her face sleeping
Visiting the venue for last minute checks before you gave the go ahead should have been a quick experience. You’d go there, talk to the organiser, the manager would settle on the areas, and you'd be out in a couple of hours.
A couple of hours had passed and all you’d done was spend every minute staring out the window, counting the poles in your head. Jungkook hummed beside you as he patiently waited for the traffic to make a move.
“Why is it this busy on a Thursday?” You couldn’t help but explode, your ass already numb from sitting in one position for so long. You weren’t angry, mildly annoyed would’ve been the better way to describe it. “Also why,” you turned to glance at him briefly before you looked back out the window – you refused to miss anything. “Did I agree to this?” You moaned in fake annoyance as you counted another billboard poster.
“Because I'm that handsome that you couldn’t resist?” You didn’t have to see his face to know that he was sporting a cocky expression. You knew him too well, and he, you. Which is why when he launched the challenge, he knew you’d take it without a second thought.
Counting another billboard you turned to face him fully, your brows furrowed. “Love, I’ve counted 89 billboard posters, how much longer do I have to go?” You complained huffing in displeasure at the thought of having to do this until you reached your destination. You were starting to get dizzy and bored, having counted at least a dozen adverts of the same companies over and over again. If their purpose was to subconsciously make you buy anything, the effect was missing entirely. It felt obnoxious and tiresome and who even wanted to buy a mini house for their pet?
“Until at least 101 love, you said you could do it.” Jungkook teased, his eyes on the road. “Without getting bored or fed up.” He added before you could say anything. “You’re almost there.” It may have been your boredom, or the fact that you knew him too well, but when he said that, there was a slight waver in his voice that didn’t escape you. Pausing, you looked at him strangely. He was not looking at you, but you could see his jaw clenching as if he was grinding his teeth - a habit you’ve noticed he did even in his sleep after a particularly difficult day.
“Are you ok?” You hesitantly asked, aware that as much as you both shared your feelings with each other, Jungkook was the one who least spoke about his hardships. Eyes trained on him you immediately noticed his shoulders tense before he opened his mouth to respond.
“Can you please humour me?” Last time he said that to you, you were presented with an emotional situation which not only weighed on his mind but also made you realise the impact your words had on him. “You don’t have long, you’ve also missed a few, I counted 5 up until now, that brings you to 94.” He said, still refusing to face you.
“Yes but-“ you prepared to contradict him, when the car slowed down to a stop in the middle of the highway. “What are you doing?” Confusedly you glanced at him only to find him pointing at something behind you. You slowly turned your gaze, your eyes not seeing anything but the side of the road and a few empty fields. You were prepared to tell him off for pulling a prank on you, the annoyance slowly simmering in your stomach.
“Higher up, baby.” He instructed, and your eyes automatically followed by catching sight of the billboards presenting one advertisement after another; a car, hotel… that is when you saw it.
“Jeon Jungkook,” you exclaimed, mouth agape. “You didn’t!” Pointing at the billboard that towered over all of the ones around it you glowered at your soon to be dead fiancé. “That’s my face!”
Jungkook looked sheepishly at you before nodding, and you could have throttled him at that moment. Whether it was because your heart would not stop pounding in your chest, the words ‘will you marry me’ flashing before your eyes in bold letters, or because there was a poster big enough to be seen from miles away with your sleeping face on it you didn’t know. Instead you narrowed your eyes at him, schooling your voice into a calm manner.
“What…” your voice cracked, clearing your throat you tried again. “What is my sleeping face doing on a billboard, in the middle of the busiest highway?” You made it sound as if you were asking him about food preferences, your tone levelled and your demeanour calm.
“You are beautiful when you sleep.” He declared, his gaze flitting to the poster, and you swore you saw his eyes glaze over for a second before he turned his attention back to you. “And I wanted everyone to see it. And I wanted everyone to know that somewhere out there there is a fool, in love, asking his girlfriend to marry him.” He ended up grinning widely at you, his eyes crinkling.
You fought the urge to beam at him, if anything Jungkook’s always had a way with words, and right now you didn’t want to show him how much they affected you. “A fool indeed.” You couldn’t help but mutter to yourself. “But I fell in love with this fool, so I guess that makes me just as much of one.” Ignoring his satisfied expression you turned back to the billboard, your brain soaking in the message. You are always beautiful to me, I want to spend forever gazing at your face, will you marry me?
“Why my sleeping face?” You moaned playfully, your hands rubbing your face. “I look awful.” Chuckling to show him you weren’t serious you bit your lip, your eyes glancing at him searching for an answer. He looked so handsome, his face lit up by a boyish grin, his defined nose crinkled, teeth on display. His angular jaw and the moles you knew were littered around his skin made you want to pepper kisses all over him.
“We’re coming back full circle, I proposed first in my sleep, now it’s your turn.” He simply supplied and you couldn’t help but burst into laughter.
“I am not sleeping though.” You pointed to your wide awake self. “And that,” you gestured towards the picture, “cannot give you an answer. It’s a picture!” Mind still reeling with the implications of having your face presented like that to everyone who took that road mortified you.
“Neither can your actual sleeping self.” He shrugged smartly, making you reach out to slap him playfully.
“Stop being a smartass.” You chided, still laughing to yourself. “Or my awake self won’t either.” You decided that two can play at that game.
Jungkook narrowed his eyes playfully at you, challenging you to a staredown, which you took without hesitation. You didn’t know how long it lasted, but you could feel the warmth rising up to your face the more you stared at him. God, you loved this manchild. Despite his outrageous ideas, he made sure to show you how loved and cared for you were. The match only got interrupted when a loud honk sound from behind you made you jolt and rip your eyes away from his. Ignoring his cry of victory joy, you glanced in the rear mirror, eyes widening at the sight of the cars trailing behind you.
“Jungkook…” you warned, prepared to tell him to drive.
“Babe, we are not leaving before you respond to me.” He amusedly pointed, fingers thrumming on the wheel as if he had all the time in the world and not a line of cars honking.
“Jungkook, just drive.” You moaned slightly distressed at the thought that someone may get out of their car and start yelling. The butterflies you felt fluttering in your stomach at the thought of him having done such a gesture were not subsiding, despite your aversion to presenting your face on a poster in the middle of a busy highway. He was proposing once more, and he needed a response.
“Baby, I will once you’re on the road, please just drive.” Your eyes were pleading, hoping he would see some sense in this madness. Shaking his head adamantly he took his hands off the wheel to further cement his standpoint. You glanced once more at the traffic gathered behind you, cars trying to veer by you in order to avoid joining the jam, then sighed in defeat. Jungkook was stubborn, and he would not move even if it meant his car was towed off the highway.
“Fine.” You sighed, ignoring the way his eye lit up with excitement, his grin widened as you leant into him, your voice lowered to a whisper. “I will marry you if…” you trailed off watching his smile falter for a second before you continued. “You stop trying to smother me in your sleep.”
Junkook broke out into laughter, his head thrown back, eyes full of mirth. “Look, stop looking so cute,” he motioned to the billboard, “and I will. Maybe.” He added as a second thought hand on the steering wheel ready to go. “But is that a yes?”
Smirking at him, the knowledge that you were holding up traffic no longer of importance you shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Little–“ he prepared to grab at you and you ducked laughing before a chorus of loud honks broke you out of your little bubble.
“Yes it is, now shut up and drive, Rihanna.”
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The week before your actual wedding was spent in a flurry of last minute decisions, replanning the seating arrangements and trying out the few dresses you had on the standby. You barely had time to even think about anything regarding your hen-do, and for the first time you were more than happy your bridesmaids were taking care of it. Checking on Jungkook’s plans with the boys, he reassured you it was all sorted by now and you didn’t question it anymore. Everyone seemed to be ready to go, and you couldn’t have been more grateful.
You didn’t plan both of your parties to happen on the same night, but it seemed like your friends had other ideas. His would be in a club and yours at home. Despite your bridesmaids’ plea to have yours in a club as well you were adamant about a small gathering at home. The prospect of having your hen-do at home surrounded by close friends without running the risk of making a fool out of yourself as you got drunk felt like a godsend.
As the night progressed, you tried your hardest to partake in all the games, the simple ones as well as the raunchy ones. All the while making sure you paced yourself with the amount of alcohol you ingested. With the knowledge of it being your wedding day the following morning, you were expecting the dreaded cold feet. But the knowledge that you would face the man who made you feel happy and loved with every second of the day and say I do in front of your loved ones, didn’t do anything but excite you. Then maybe he’d also stop with the ridiculous proposals, you mused fondly.
The obnoxious sound of the doorbell going made you pause. Looking around you locked eyes with the maid of honour, whose smile spoke of trouble. The bell going off derailed you from interrogating her. You made your way to the door, anxious for what awaited you behind it. You didn’t have time to register the events that happened after you opened the door. A group of men bringing in a box twice the size of you, brushing past you as if it was their home not yours, dropping the suspicious package then leaving without so much of a good night to you or your party; it all happened too quickly for you to process.
“What did you do?!” You asked, voice raised to make yourself heard over the music. When she simply shrugged at you and motioned for you to open the box you rolled your eyes at her. Approaching the offensive object, taking up the majority of the space in your living room, you paused when you heard the music change.
From the latest pop song, the sudden change in track to ‘What a man gotta do’ didn’t surprise you as much as your boyfriend coming out of the box did. Scarcely dressed, belting out the notes of the song blaring from the speakers, you couldn’t help but stare at him, the white pressed shirt he was wearing unbuttoned all the way, his glistening skin in full view as he rolled his body in ways you’ve only witnessed in bed. Watching him perform a Moulin Rouge inspired dance to a Jonas Brothers song, not only made you swallow hard, your mind going in circles about his sudden appearance, but you could also feel the heat rising underneath your skin. A combination of confusion and embarrassment washed over you as he slowly made his way towards your frozen form.
His eyes gleamed with mischief as he grabbed your hand pulling you towards the chair your friends pulled out in the middle of the room. Seated and unable to pry your eyes away from the way his muscles moved beneath the material of the shirt, you fought the urge to pull him towards you. The desire to kiss him senseless made your fingers twitch, forcing you to grip the material of your dress. Your brain felt dazed and confused at the situation you found yourself in and music pounding in your ears wasn’t helping either. If someone else related this experience to you, you would have laughed at the ridiculousness of it. But it was you who was experiencing it, and from Jungkook of all people. The man whose career revolved around singing not dancing. However watching the flawless moves and lack of hesitation told you he either had a hidden talent or he practiced hard for this performance.
You were so concentrated on the performance that you weren’t paying attention to anything else until your bridesmaid yelled at you to listen to the lyrics. Finally registering what was happening around you, you found yourself burst into laughter when the song came to a climax and he flamboyantly skidded across the living room, the sexy performance coming to an end.
Ignoring the hoots and yells from your friends you rushed to him as soon as the last note ended, your eyes fixed on his despite the want to continue to ogle at his toned body, newly marked by tattoos. He even had the audacity to put oil on himself, his skin glistening in the artificial light, a sight you’ve committed to memory.
You wrapped your arms around him, breathing in the strong smell of vanilla and musk as you placed your lips on his in a heated kiss, lips crashing together for a few brief moments before you pulled away.
“There is nothing sexier than my soon to be husband half naked, singing a song for me like that. My own personal butler in a buff.” You purred, pulling him closer by the tie, nails raking over his exposed chest making him shiver. Feeling encouraged by his response and the goosebumps you could see on his smooth skin, you lifted yourself up on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, both your breathing ragged.
“And if there weren’t so many eyes on us, I would ride you right here right now in this awful get up until you came inside me.” Hearing his breath hitch made you smirk, the hand on his chest slowly mapped the planes of his chest towards the hem of his shorts. Jungkook bit his lip to hide his disappointment when it reached his hips and you only pinched his side. “Behave.” You warned, not wanting to give all of your friends an insight in your intimate life.
“So what does a man have to do to have you marry him?” Jungkook grinned, the moment broken by your laughter.
“We’re getting married tomorrow, Jungkook. Isn’t it obvious?” You argued, ignoring the way your heart rate sped up at the thought; you felt warm knowing that he fought all the way until the end of your engagement period to show you how much he wanted to marry you.
“Is that a yes?” Being so close to him, you felt Jungkook gulp his hands hesitantly placed around your waist.
“I don’t know, mister, that is very forward of you; asking the bride on her hen night if she wants to marry you… I would need to ask my full time lover.” You teased playfully, laughing when he bent to pick you up as if you weighed nothing.
“Excuse me, as of tomorrow I think you mean to say your full time husband.”
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MAIN MASTERLIST
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bangtanger · 2 days ago
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😮‍💨
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yoongiandthebiaswreckers · 6 hours ago
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I’m a hoe for brows pt. 2/?
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venusiangguk · 7 months ago
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the art of craving | jjk (m)
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>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc
>>genre: friends with benefits, smut, pwp, a lil bit of fluff
>>word count: 6.9k
>>warnings: the domesticity... sob sob, the cutest baby... sob sob, dom jk, sub oc, age gap, all that good dilf jk stuff: asking for permission, saying thank you, oral (m), videotaping, sexual tension, balls in face, covering of mouth (?), a lil bit of external prostate stim bc jk deserves it 😌, dirty talk, creampie,  sex in someone else’s house (? again), omg almost all members are dad’s 🥲, so many dilfs hhhh, hobi being out of pocket, questionable breakfast in bed 👍🏻
>>notes: HE’S BACK!! also i knocked this out in one day, so I'm sorry for mistakes or if it falls short, i tried to do dilf jk justice 🤧 
>>summary: jk takes you to a bbq at his friends house. the tri-tip is good but the creampie is even better.
series masterlist, pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4
“Are you sure you’re okay with me coming?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
You turn to Jeongguk, who is kneeled down at toddler level. Nari’s got a strong grip in his hair as she uses it as leverage as well as a balancing aid as she steps one little foot at a time into her water proof pull up. He cut it recently, his long locks a little more clean cut and cropped. Still more than enough for little hands to yank, though. He winces, but takes it in stride.
“I don’t know you’re always a bit weird about us,” you say. No bitterness, more of just an observation.
Jeongguk looks up at you as best he can, before getting Nari’s bikini bottoms and repeating the same painful process he did with the pull up. “I’m not weird about it.” He can almost hear the incredulous look you’re giving him. “Okay, I’m not as weird about it,” he amends, “but this is just a group of my friends getting together, and we’ve all known each other for years so I don’t have to worry about what they think of me.”
You hum, walking to the bathroom to get your own bikini on. You’re adjusting the ties at the hip when you say loudly so he can hear you from his room, “You’re worried about what people think of us?”
The effort you put into trying to hold in your laugh when Jeongguk appears in the doorway with a disheveled baby on his hip is futile. Nari’s looking around like she doesn’t know how she got there so fast, shirtless with a half-on baby bikini top, the triangles falling down and resting on her round belly. She smiles big when she sees you though, kicks in her dad’s hold.
Jeongguk looks kind of disheveled as well, yet very serious as he says, “No I don’t care what people think about us, I just- am more worried what they think about me. I know it doesn’t matter,” he sighs dramatically, “but I’d rather people not think I’m a cradle robbing pervert.” He covers one of Nari’s ears with a big hand and pushes the other ear against his chest to plug it when he says pervert. She pops back up, unbothered like a little bobble head.
You walk over and stand in front of them both, taking the strings of Nari’s swimsuit and tying them at the back of her neck. You flick your eyes up to Jeongguk, as you make the bunny ears. “You’re not even 30 yet, relax Daddy.”
“And you’re not even 25,” he almost whines, and doesn't bother scolding you for the use of the d word. This time.
“And this one’s not even 2!” you say, over excited as you turn wide eyes to the baby in front of you, swiftly changing the subject.
Nari squeals at your excitement, leans forward in her dad’s hold till she’s got tiny, pudgy little arms around your neck. Jeongguk hands her to you with ease, tries to keep the sick adoration off of his face while doing so.
“Duuu!” she cries, holding up her hand. She’s got her middle finger and ring finger up, an awkward way to show ‘two’ but you let her have it, jiggling her a little laughing a praise.
“Oh, such a smart little flower!” Jeongguk coos, hand coming up to give her a high-five.
However, she just grips his thumb in her small hand, giggling in the infectious way that babies do, her little crescent eyes lighting up with love and glee and Jeongguk almost cries. He hopes she never stops looking at him like that or holding his hand like that.
The alarm on his phone knocks him out of his sentimental reverie as he begrudgingly frees himself from Nari’s hold. He calls into the bathroom, “We’re going to be late.”
You’re not bothered, instead just sitting Nari on the bathroom counter and doing her hair up in small piggy-tail buns atop her head. She plays with your belly ring while you do so, fascinated by the new cherry charm you have on it now.
“Did you hear me?” Jeongguk asks in the doorway.
“Yup, look at her,” you say, gesturing to the oblivious baby.
Jeongguk does, taps one of the buns. “How do you get them so symmetrical? I can never get it right.”
You hum, sitting her in the curve of your waist. You give her your manicured hand, nails decorated in crystals, to distract her. “I’ll teach you. Want me to get her baby bag ready while you load the car with her sleeper just in case she needs to nap while we are there?”
Jeongguk shoots finger guns at you, before pressing a quick kiss to your temple. You purr. “Good brain, I didn’t think of that.”
You walk out with him, set Nari down and let her toddle about. She hands you an array of things, helping you pack her bag while Jeongguk goes to his large walk-in closet grabbing the portable crib.
“Don’t forget her sock monitor,” he grunts, finally getting a good hold of it.
“Already packed,” you tell him, “Do you want me to pack her undies for after swimming?”
Nari’s speech may be a little delayed according to the doctors but her brain is big and functioning and everything else in her baby body is right on par, or even ahead of kids her age. They suggested early potty-training, and focusing on the positives as Jeongguk navigates the hurdles.
He looks contemplative before he shakes his head. “No, too much hassle, just pull-ups is fine.”
You throw him a look, but he’s already got his back to you walking out the room. “You know she’s never going to learn if you don’t stay consistent and keep a routine!”
“Yes, baby, I know!” he calls over his shoulder, “Fresh start when we get back!”
You roll your eyes. “Daddy’s so silly, huh?”
Nari babbles an affirmative, and with that, you shoulder the baby bag and carry the baby right out the door. Easy peasy.
~~~
“Hello my good bitches!”
“Hoseok!” Jeongguk whisper-scolds, a protective hand coming up to Nari’s face. For some reason he covers her eyes instead of her ears. Nari blows a blind raspberry, but is more or less content in your arms.
You’ve never met Hoseok before, but you know you like him when you watch his eyes rake over Jeongguk, a judgemental look on his face as he takes a sip from the red solo cup in his hand, eyes narrowed over the rim.
“What are you wearing?”
Jeongguk narrows his eyes back. Although his friend probably can’t see them behind the huge gold-rimmed, purple hued glasses Jeongguk is wearing. “It’s Fendi. Please move, this is heavy.”
It’s no secret that Jeongguk has a fat wallet to match his fat dilf ass, and that he likes the occasional name brand item in his closet. But he’s not frivolous, and it’s only once in a blue moon that he actually splurges on something as expensive as the bright yellow and white shirt he’s wearing currently.
If anything a good portion of his income goes to what he wine-drunkenly calls the ‘Flower Fund’. Essentially dollars put away for when Nari goes to university, or whatever she decides. Maybe she’ll start her own business like her dad. Your mouth may have dropped when he let the current balance slip. She’s not even 2 yet.
Anywho. The shirt that is the hot topic-  it’s a bit out there, different from what he usually wears, but somehow he pulls it off, the white of the trademark F’s all over compliment the white, 5in inseam swim shorts he has on. You giggled in the car when he paired the sunglasses with it, but the more you look at him, the more you grow to like the statement piece.
His sleeve is on full display, and his arm is flexed as he carries the baby sleeper, finding a wall to lean it against. You’re still staring when Hoseok starts speaking.
“So you’re the hot Nanny he goes on and on about?”
“Nanny?” you ask, raising a brow.
“Hobi? Oh my god?” He shakes his head and his hands open and jerk in a very what the fuck manner. “I do not call you the nanny,” he stresses, eyes going to you.
You keep your brow quirked.
Hoseok laughs, nudges you with his hands open, nodding towards Nari. The baby looks like it's a very tough decision, choosing between you and Hoseok, but after an encouraging nod from you she smiles. Her baby teeth are on display, and her hands are grabby.
Jeongguk’s friend hips her, “He doesn’t actually call you the nanny, but he does talk about you a lot. All good things of course.”
You smile, your heart fluttering a little in your chest but before you can say anything Jeongguk is by your side, telling Hoseok a very adamant and stern, ‘Goodbye.’
Hoseok just laughs. “Okay, okay,” he says, raising his hands in surrender. The one holding the red cup catches Nari’s attention.
She pokes it with a tiny finger before smacking her lips a little. “Joofs?”
“Joofs?” Hoseok repeats, confused for a moment before he gets it. “Juice- yeah no. Not this. Let’s get you your own joofs.”
As he’s walking towards what you assume is the kitchen you call out, “Do you need one of her cups?”
He waves a dismissive hand. “Joon keeps some in the kitchen, go outside and meet everyone! We’ve all been dying to put a face to the mysterious __!” He turns to Nari making casual conversation till his voice fades with distance, “Still nice and plump I see…”
Something warms inside you. The fact that Jeongguk’s friends are all so close, that they keep little things for each other's children at each other’s houses, is so sweet and wholesome and so tender in a way that makes your heart want to burst.
Nari’s playroom has a few leapfrog’s with grade school games on a shelf and you had always wondered why. When you asked, Jeongguk told you that he sometimes watched Taehyung’s boys when he and his wife had date night. He has all the Tinkerbell movies on bluray for Jin’s daughter, and the Harry Potter ones for Yoongi and Jimin’s. As far as you know, Namjoon doesn’t have kids of his own yet, so it’s extra touching that he keeps baby essentials for Nari around.
You lean against Jeongguk, bumping shoulders with him. “Hoseok is nice, I like him.”
He rolls his eyes. “He’s the bachelor of the group. No relationship or kids. Hence the potty-mouth and the alcoholic joofs at 1 in the afternoon.”
You smile a closed lipped laugh, eyes glinting as you look up at him. He smiles back, unable to stop himself. He gives you an inquisitive look, the arm around your waist pulling you a little closer. The hand on your hip squeezing in question.
“Hmm?” he ponders, softly.
“You talk about me?” you ask, just as soft.
He hums, eyes dropping to your lips. “Just a little. Only to them.”
You and Jeongguk aren’t official. The circumstances a bit peculiar, the steps a little harder to maneuver. But what you have is good. A nice mix between fun and serious, committed yet free. You both know what you need to, feel what’s between you, even if you don’t name it or talk about it.
On your tiptoes, you crane your neck to reach his lips, and his eyes slip shut, ready to meet you halfway.
“Ah- Jeongguk you’re on grill duty!”
Jeongguk slumps behind you, a little groan sounding. “Okay!”
He sneaks a sweet kiss, before pinching your butt quickly. “Let me introduce you to the hyungs.”
~~~
Jeongguk looks almost as edible as the tri-tip he’s grilling. He’s got tongs in his tattooed hand, his hair held back by those purpley sunglasses that he’s pushed to the top of his head. His shirt is open, his toned tummy out and flexing whenever he laughs at something Taehyung says.
His eyes constantly look for you and Nari in the pool. He has an air kiss war with Nari for a while before she gets distracted by one of the other kids, asking if they can drag her around the pool by her floaty.
You’re pretty sure it’s Jin’s daughter, around 8 or 9. Smiling you nod, telling her you’ll help her. You keep a stable hand on Nari’s circular underarm floaty as she giggles and splashes, tickled pink at being doted on. She’s the baby of the barbeque, so she’s been handed around and loved on so much, giving the whole crew a dose of baby fever.
“You know, we got special toys and a playmat for her. She’s never liked the water.”
At the sound of a woman’s voice you look over your shoulder to see Jin’s wife sitting on the edge of the pool, her feet dipped in the water. She’s beautiful, high cheekbones and kind eyes. She’s smiling, and it has a hint of knowing to it. She nods to the lawn next to the pool, and you see said playmat has been commandeered by the girls.
This gets her daughter’s attention and she jumps up and down excitedly in the shallow end of the pool where you’ve ended up.
“I’m going to go play with them for a little bit, okay Nana? I’ll come back and swim with you soon!” she gives Nari a quick kiss before speed walking to the grass after a stern warning from her mother not to run by the pool.
Nari watches, her eyes wide and curious, and you give her another kiss (she’s been absolutely smothered today). “You’ll be able to play with them soon, don’t worry little bug.”
She wiggles a little, curls in on herself like your kisses tickle before she’s giving you a wet kiss back, her chlorine hands grabbing at your cheeks. You laugh with her, finally turning back to Jin’s wife.
“I don’t know, maybe she just needed another push.”
She hums, getting fully in the water with you. She makes a ‘come hither’ motion with a wave of her hand, gesturing for you to push Nari across the water to her. The distance isn’t far so you do. You and her take turns pushing the baby back and forth and Nari loves it, soft giggles spilling from her lips as she lets her hands drag in the water.
“Jeongguk says you’re really good with her. That she really loves you.”
You feel yourself flush. “That’s sweet of him, but he’s the one that’s made her so good with people.”
She shakes her head, laughing. “Uh, she’s good with us. Kind of a nightmare for people she doesn’t like. She’s almost as picky as he is about who gets to be around her.”
Laughing with her, you speak playfully to the baby. “You? A nightmare? No way!”
Jin’s wife notices the blush, the way you brush off the comments and direct attention to other things, so as she passes Nari to you again, she says, “I get it, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted you to know that I think he trusts you and cares about you a lot. Not that he tells me of course,” she chuckles, “That’s boy talk, but Jin’s got a big mouth.”
“No,” you assure her, “I appreciate it, thank you for telling me.”
Mindless chatter ensues, baby babbles sprinkled in, Nari giving her two cents, as everyone waits for the food. Your name is yelled across the backyard, and the familiar voice is welcomed, as you make sure Nari is in good hands before swimming to meet Jeongguk at the edge of the pool. He’s got a piece of meat on a fork.
“Taste?” he asks, squatting in front of you.
You open your mouth, and he’s about to plop it in before he brings it back at the last minute, blowing on it a little. You laugh, endeared. Probably a habit due to always making sure anything he lets Nari taste isn’t too hot. He presses it to his lips quickly to test the temperature, before the fork is at your lips again, his other hand underneath making sure it doesn’t fall.
You groan, tastebuds doing a happy dance on your tongue as you chew.
“So good,” you moan, mouth still full, “I love the sauce.”
“The aioli,” he says, playfully snobby.
You roll your eyes, swallowing finally. “Whatever. I love it.”
He’s got a sweet smile on his face as his eyes search yours. They linger on your lips, and you think he may kiss you, but instead he wipes his thumb on your bottom lip. You can see a little bit of the aioli on it when he brings it to his mouth, eye contact deliberate as he sucks it off. It’s a bit naughty for him. Always careful about ‘pda’. But his doe-eyes are twinkling and he’s trying not to laugh as he says, “I love it, too.”
Sure that he can feel the spike in the air, you narrow your eyes at him as you whisper, “You’re mean.”
He shrugs, pats your head. “Food’s ready, get baby. I’ll save you guys a seat.”
~~~
Everyone around the outside table groans. Hands are on bellies and arms are behind heads and buttons are undone after devouring the food. The kids table off to the side is conspiring on how to get dessert, and little Nari is just about knocked out in your lap, the bread of her cheek smushed against your chest as she nods off.
“Jk, the iron chef,” Jimin sighs, swirling his wine in his glass.
“For real, man…”
Compliments to the chef are spouted from everyone and Jeongguk humbly accepts. The conversation dwindles into something that is lulled and lazy, casual stories about the kids being traded. How Taehyung found his twin boys’ pee drawer. You cringe. How Yoongi and Jimin’s daughter said her first curse word at kindergarten and blamed it on her dad (the one with the potty-mouth… read: Yoongi). You laugh, carefully not to wake Nari.
One of the wives notices.
She coos, “Oh, looks like someone is tuckered out.”
Jeongguk glances at his daughter, brings a finger to her pushed out bottom lip and pulls it down a little, tiny bloop noises sounding when it snaps back into place. He’s evil.
Of course she groggily wakes up, grumpy and rotten as she screeches and groans, rubbing her face into your sternum. Her chubby foot kicks at her dad. He laughs a coo at her, and she just grunts, indignant and sleepy.
“Quit it,” you say, trying not to laugh at the scene.
He hums, shoulders shaking in amusement. “Let’s set up her sleeper,” he says to you before turning to Namjoon. “Can we set it up in the guest room?”
He nods. “You’ll be able to hear her if she wakes up?”
“Of course, we brought her sock monitor.”
“Sock monitor,” Jin scoffs humorously, “Wish they had those when Jiwoo was a baby…”
The voices taper off as you follow Jeongguk back into the house and after a pitstop in the foyer for the crib and baby bag you find yourself in a pretty decently sized bedroom. It’s furnished, but there’s enough space in the far corner for the sleeper.
You sit on the bed, sway back and forth with Nari still snoozing in your arms. You rest your cheek on her head, watching as Jeongguk quickly sets up her nap station. He looks strong, arms working as he snaps each piece into place. His thighs bulge a little, his swim shorts bunching and pulled taut over the muscle as he grabs her blanket and pig stuffie from the baby bag.
“She still sleeping?” he asks, once he’s finished.
You hum an affirmative, getting to your feet and walking over to him. He takes her, and gently lowers her in, staying near until he’s sure that the move didn’t wake her. She whimpers a little in her sleep and you quietly rustle through her bag until you find her paci. Nari quiets immediately, soft baby snores that sound more like tiny little sighs fill the room.
Jeongguk brushes her flyaways off her face, tucks the wispies behind her ear being careful not to snag on her tiny earring. He then turns to you and throws himself into your arms, slumping.
You groan under his weight, but embrace him nonetheless.
“She’s getting so big,” he whines.
“Turns 2 in like 2 months right?”
He nods, face in your neck.
“You gonna do anything for it?”
Sighing, he rights himself. He bends and gets the monitor sock, un-velcroing it as quietly as he can, and then does it up around Nari’s tiny foot as carefully as possible. She’s a pretty good sleeper, never really too fussy, but you can never be too careful. He then grabs his phone from the same bag, checking the connection on the app.
“Her mom was talking about maybe getting together for it,” he says, pocketing his cell and grabbing your hand. “We can do something though. If you want, you’re not obligated of course.”
Your smile is small, but you nod. “Of course I want to.”
His ex is something you both never really touch on. One of the only tense subjects between you two, the conversation always a little formal and stilted, but you get it. And it’s not your place to question him, or how he co-parents. Not your place to question what she would think if she knew about you, because you’re sure she doesn’t. Or else you probably would have been invited to the actual birthday party.
It’s cool. You get it.
You’re wandering aimlessly around the house, hand in hand, taking the well needed break away from the commotion outside. The company is great, just a lot, and you’ve wanted to get Jeongguk alone the whole afternoon. Now’s your chance and after the birthday talk, you could use a distraction.
He’s lazily showing around the downstairs bathroom when you take your chances.
“That’s the waterfall shower, the toilet- it has a bidet, how cool is that? That’s the tub, and- that’s the lock? What are you doing?” He whispers like he’s playfully scandalized by the way you lock the both of you inside.
You shrug innocently, as you step in front of him. Trailing your index finger between the slight dip between his pecs, down to the line between his abs, all the way to the light trail of hair that disappears into his shorts.
“Dunno… What am I doing?”
He hums like he’s thinking about it. “I think you’re being a bit suggestive…” he says quietly as he toys with the tie at your hip.
“Mmm,” you hum contemplative and teasing. You take a short step, closing the small distance between you and him. You wrap your arms around his neck, scratch at the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “What am I suggesting?”
Jeongguk’s so easy. He bends some, brushing his nose against your cheek, the hands at your hips already eagerly gripping and pulling you closer. Flush against him. His voice is soft, has a slight shake to it when he says back, “Not sure… tell me?”
You sigh, pleased, when he presses gentle, wet kisses to your neck. You whine a bit when he nips, his teeth sharp and quick. Eloquently you say, “Let’s have a quickie.”
Jeongguk snorts, a harsh laugh huffing into your skin. “Smooth.”
He’s teasing but his swimsuit doesn’t do much to hide how hard he’s getting, despite not even being touched yet. You change that, hand going down to cup him through the material.
“You wanna?” you purr, squeezing him.
He nods, finally kisses you. Slow and gentle. “Yeah,” he breathes against your mouth.
You kiss him with intention, then.
Tongues curl around each other and teeth click. Hands roam, bodies on fire despite the little clothing on your frames, the dip in the pool you had not too long ago. Jeongguk seems eager, kinda desperate as he breathes harshly against your lips, hands on your ass grabbing and kneading your cheeks in his big palms, pulling them apart a little as he presses his cock into your lower belly.
You moan when you feel how hard he is, when you feel how badly he wants you. Right here in one of his best friends' bathrooms. It makes you feel a little high, kind of dreamy as he backs himself to the counter, hooks one of your legs on his hip, forcing you to rest most of your weight on him, bracing yourself against his body.
With your legs now open, Jeongguk takes advantage of the way your pussy is right over his cock, rutting up into you, his hips moving hard and slow as he drags his length against you. You gasp, resting your head on his shoulder, eyes falling shut. Your acrylics grip at his shirt for a moment, basking in the way your clit is being teased. Pleasure making your whole body tingle.
“You’re so hard,” you whimper.
He makes a needy noise, sounding a little embarrassed as he urges you to look at him with a hand on your face. He watches you, as your brows turn up every time you feel the tip of his cock. Your mouth falls open, a silent moan, and he knows you’re trying so hard to be quiet. It makes him throb, jerk against your cunt.
“You’re being so good,” he praises.
Your eyes flutter a little, rolling back some as you nod.
He kisses you again, rougher this time. Your mouths stay attached as you finally free him from the stiff material of his trunks, pushing and pulling his foreskin over his tip. He has to break the kiss so he can moan, so he can look down at your tiny hand wrapped around him, fingers not even able to wrap all the way around.
“__,” he sighs.
You’re mouthing at his neck while you pump, a questioning noise being hummed into the column of his throat.
“You know how… how I’m gonna be gone for... like a week? For that business trip?” His sentence is broken up by lewd groans.
You tell him you know, distracted by the nasty clicking noises that color the air on every upstroke.
He stays quiet for a moment, tensed in your hands. Then he speaks in that unsure voice that he takes when he asks about something he’s not sure your response will be.
“You can say no… but I just- want you, even when I’m by myself… when I can’t actually have you...”
Gently, he pushes your leg off his hip, and reaches into his pocket.
That’s when you get it.
He pulls his phone out, looks at you a little nervously. His cheeks rosy and flushed. You’re pretty sure your pussy floods your bikini bottoms. Jeongguk wants you so fucking badly that he wants to record you, because he can’t go without you- not even for a single week. He could watch porn, jerk off to the thought of you, could even get someone else because you wouldn’t ever find out. But no.
He just wants you.
“Yes,” you say quickly.
Jeongguk beams, both his hands coming to cup your face- phone and all -as he kisses you. Quick, sweet kisses until he rests his forehead on yours, his breaths hot on your face as he lets himself fuck into your palm for just a moment.
“Will you suck me, baby?” he whispers.
And fuck his voice has that tremble to it, like he’s so turned on he can barely contain it. You nod in his hands.
“Gag on it a little? Hmm?”
“Yeah, whatever you want, Jeongguk.”
And that’s how you find yourself on your knees of a bathroom floor, Jeongguk’s fat cock in your mouth, his phone recording every tear that leaks from the corner of your eyes, every gag that reverberates when his leaking tip nudges the back of your throat, every gasp you take when you pull off. The spit slick sounds that echo as you jerk him off while you catch your breath.
His phone catches the choked moans that he can’t keep in, your mouth too wet, too hot around his cock. It catches all the dirty, salacious requests he asks you.
“Lick my balls,” he whispers.
And you do. With one of your hands you jerk his cock, as you look up at him. Part of your face is covered by his cock as you lap at his balls, relishing in the way he spreads his legs a little wider, wanting to feel as good as possible.
“That spot behind my balls- yeah, fuck-”
You bring your free hand up and press two fingers into his taint, massaging lightly stimulating his prostate from the outside, while still stroking and licking him. His cock pulses in your hold and you feel when a little drop of precum dribbles to your hand that’s working over his length. You moan and rub your thighs together.
He doesn’t ask for this often but you love it when he does. You love the way he gets so breathy, so airy with his noises. How his chest stutters with short inhales until he finally releases and exhales with long groans, sometimes light whines.
Right now, his head falls back as he exhales one of those deep groans, before he looks down at you again, adjusts the camera a little, eyes so dark and heavy just dripping with lust and arousal as you make him feel so, so good.
“Don’t make me cum, wanna fuck you,” he murmurs.
It’s almost like a warning, telling you to stop because he knows he won’t be able to do it himself, the buzz thrumming through his body too blissful for him to willingly cut it off, put it to an end.
You listen to him, one last long lick from his balls to his tip, before you’re standing, hopping onto the counter. Spreading your legs, you invite Jeongguk between them.
He’s still filming, angles his phone down as he presses the thumb of his free hand in between your pussy lips over your bottoms. He kisses you while he touches you, swallowing the little whimpers you make, makes sure the shot is right when you start to rock your pussy into his touch.
Trailing his fingers from your hidden slit to the knot keeping your bikini on, he gives you a quick glance, before pulling it. He hooks a single finger under the fabric, and drags it down until your perfect, little cunt is bare.
Bending down some, Jeongguk brings his phone closer to your pussy. It’s hairless, and smooth. Pussy lips puffy. When he spreads you open, your wet center gleaming on camera, you whine, closing your legs slightly.
You’ve gotten over your shyness with him, but having a pussy close up is foreign enough for you to get bashful. But he just shushes you, coaxes your legs open again.
“Have the prettiest pussy,” he tells you, as his index finger barely pushes inside. “Can’t wait to get my cock in here…”
Something seems to click at Jeongguk’s words. He stops the video and looks up at you with his expression pained.
“What?” you ask, kinda of out of it, drunk on arousal.
All he says is, “Condom.”
Your face falls. “Are there any in the bag?”
He shakes his head. “ You packed it, and I didn’t add any. Didn’t think we would need them.”
Normally you wouldn’t push him, would settle for sucking his cock, drinking his cum. Would be good with him eating you out, cumming all over his tongue. But your pussy aches, you're not sure anything but his thick cock filling you up will suffice this time.
“Well, we don’t need them…” you whisper.
“__…” He gives you a stern look. You feel his cock kick, though, where it rests against your thigh.
“Please,” you beg, hand going to his cock stroking it over your tummy. “I have the IUD, it’s like 99% effective I’m pretty sure-”
“Pretty sure isn’t convincing-”
“I’m really sure,” you say, “I need it.”
He looks like he’s fighting with himself. Weighing the pros and cons of fucking you raw for the first time. Feeling your tight cunt sucking him in every time he pulls out, no barrier between you.
He grips the base of his cock and you sigh relieved as he wordlessly slips his tip between your folds.
You hold his gaze as he starts to push in. His mouth falls open when your pussy swallows his tip, and when he reaches the hilt, you let out the softest cry, both of you gasping into each other's mouth at the first swift thrust he rocks into you.
“Thank you,” you breathe.
Jeongguk sucks in a sharp breath. Holds his hips still as his eyes squeeze shut for the briefest of moments before his hips start to move again. You’re overwhelming, he’s never been with someone who he’s had such strong chemistry with, someone who knows exactly how to please him, someone who he knows exactly how to please.
It’s only a few thrusts into you later that Jeongguk is groaning, pushing one of your legs back so he can see your slick on his cock every time he pulls out. “Fuck, this was a bad idea…”
You shake your head, eyes closed. “No I love it like this, can feel you so much better.”
He moans, presses his cock in as far as he can, hips right up against you. “Yeah, that’s why,” he sighs, “never gonna wanna use a condom again.”
The smile that plays on your lips is wicked. “Then don’t.”
Jeongguk laughs breathlessly, fucks you a little faster as he brings a hand up to your face. He loves looking at you while he’s inside you, watching as your features shift whenever he hits that spot. “Be good,” he tells you.
You listen to him, not because you want to, but because you can’t think coherently with his cock inside you. It’s slow, the noises in the bathroom echoed and loud, slapping skin not an option today, but god. He moves his hips into you perfectly, the head of his cock rubbing on your g-spot everytime he pushes inside of you, the drag of his swollen tip against your walls is  dizzying.
He knows how to fuck you so well, having come to know your body almost as well as you do with how many times you’ve sat on his cock, how many times he’s plowed into you, how many times he’s coaxed leg shaking orgasms from your body with nothing but his cock. He knows that you like it when he gets a hold of your tits, when he flicks your nipples with the pads of his thumbs, so he finally moves your bikini top out of the way, does exactly that and he smiles when you arch into his touch.
The scolding he gives you when you accidentally knock the soap bottle over is playful. “Careful,” he whispers.
“Sorry,” you pant. When he tells you to keep it down normally, you usually have a little bit of leeway. But you don’t have that here. You know that you are a guest in the home and that this is your first time meeting everyone. You know that tainting the barbeque with sex noises is probably a bad first impression. That’s hard to remember, however, when Jeongguk fucks like he does.
He coos, his hips speeding up some. “No, don’t be sorry. So perfect. So good,” he sighs, “best I’ve ever had.”
“Just a little faster,” you plead.
The first time he fucked you, he told you he would give you whatever you wanted, and he’s never not done that. So he picks up his pace, one hand squeezing at your tits, the other at the meat of your inner thigh, and he feels how you tighten around his cock, pussy pulsing.
“Like that,” you sob.
“You have to be quiet, baby,” he pants, sweat dripping down his temple.
Like he spoke it into existence, footsteps sound outside the door. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since you both put Nari down, but it sounds like everyone is coming in from outside. Distant chatter echoes through the thin walls, the thin wood of the bathroom door. Whoever was outside seems to have just been passing by, but it lights the fire.
“Gonna make you cum,” Jeongguk tells you.
You try to respond, but the fast pace of hips knocks the breath out of you, knocks the words right out of your mouth. Your hands scramble on the counter, trying to support yourself, but its hard when he just feels so fucking good inside of you.
The slaps that start to sound are thankfully muted by the material of your swimsuit still halfway tied on, because Jeongguk doesn’t slow down, doesn’t falter a bit as he jackhammers his cock into your tiny cunt, deeming time a more pressing limitation than volume.
The frantic pace of his thrusts is an almost constant pressure on that magic, euphoric spot in your pussy. The pressure bleeds to pleasure and your arms and legs begin to shake, as your eyes are water from the effort to keep your moans silent, but you don’t know how much more you can take, if you’ll be able to keep quiet as he makes you cum on his cock.
“Can I cum?” you whisper, words fast and jumbled.
Jeongguk nods, swears as he keeps plowing his cock into you over and over again.
“Cover my mouth, cover my mouth,” you tell him, lewd urgency lacing your tone. “Oh my god, I’m gonna cum-”
The way that you look and sound when you’re about to finish with his hand over your mouth is wet dream material. Your brows are pinched, almost worried looking as you nod, letting him know that you’re there. The moans that you can’t keep in are muffled and desperate sounding under his palm, and jesus fucking christ Jeongguk can’t keep looking at you when you look like that or he’ll cum before you even get the chance to.
He leans forward, presses his face into your cheek. “C’mon, cum for me baby,” he encourages. Demanding yet so sweet as he takes what he wants from you.
You shake in his hold when you do as he says. Muffled moans turn to muffled cries as he fucks you through it, as he keeps his fat cock thrusting in and out of your convulsing cunt.
“That’s it. That’s my good girl-” Jeongguk, whispers before he buries his face into your neck.
After cumming your pussy always gets so warm, so swollen and tight and wet on the inside. And he knows he should pull out, shouldn’t risk cumming inside of you, but he feels like he physically can’t pull out. Like it would be a crime to not paint your insides white, just this once. The instinctual urge to bury his cock inside of you wins out as he loses control of his hips.
“Gonna cum inside,” he warns you.
The way you shiver in his hold at his words, just spurs him on more knowing that you crave it as much as he does. When he moves his hand from your mouth you immediately say a soft, delirious, “Please.”
He’s always had a thing for begging but that single word has never sounded as good as it does when you say with his cock buried inside of you. You sound drunk on him, on the way he fucks you and touches you and takes care of you. It only takes a few more frenzied pumps of his cock until he’s spilling inside of you, barely audible, gasped moans filling your ears.
The afterglow is short lived. The blaring knock on the door makes sure of that.
“You guys are sick, there are children in the house.”
It’s Hoseok. Because of course it is.
Jeongguk just groans, and when there are retreating footsteps outside the door, you finally let yourself laugh.
“Do you think anyone else heard?”
“God I hope not, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“They didn’t hear the end of it either…” you tease.
Jeongguk puffs out a lazy laugh, his softening cock slipping out as he backs up. He looks down at your swollen pussy, sees the little drops of leaking cum. He takes his index finger and gathers it before pushing it back in.
“Bold,” you say, with a quirked brow.
He rolls his eyes. “Are you staying for dinner after we head back?”
His subject change makes you chuckle incredulously, but still you nod. “Sure, I don’t have work tomorrow.”
“Oh, so you’re staying the night?” he asks cheekily.
It’s your turn to roll your eyes, as if you weren’t hoping he would ask.
~~~
When you wake up in his bed, Jeongguk isn’t on the right side like he usually is. Instead, there’s a note letting you know that he’s in Nari’s room with her because she was fussy, along with a plan b and some flowers.
~~~
helloooo!! long time no see im so sorry for the lack of content im having horrible writers block 😁 but anyway~~ dilf jk!! hopefully the wait for part two was worth it, and that you liked it <3 if you did, pls pls reblog, like, comment, share, send an ask >.< feedback is so appreciated and i love talking to u guys <33 smooches cuties 😚 series masterlist, pt 1, pt 2, pt 3
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kkulmoon · 5 months ago
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some things you didn’t know about namjoon 🥺 for @jung-koook ♡
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awakeshedreams · 3 months ago
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inks and kinks and other pretty things
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pairing : tattooartist!JK x collegestudent!reader
setting : non idol au, established relationship au
summary :
you lost in a bet and have to face your punishment. jungkook has lots of fun riling you up.
genre : lots of smut and lots fluff
rating : e for graphic adult content
wordcount : 4.6k
warnings : read content below unless you want to avoid spoilers ;)
content :
dom/sub undertones, use of pet names/nicknames, daddy kink, softdom!jk, semi-clothed sex, light praising kink, hair pulling, clit slapping ( it happens istg ), free the nipples, reader is in a mood, jk isn't helping really, but jk's about to kiss it better, jk has a possessive streak, soft motorboating, boob obsessed jk, fingering, nipple/breast play, like a lot of it, table sex, sex at the workplace, jk has an office, raw fucking, rough sex, jk kind of chokes the reader, he's very demanding but he's so gentle about it, brief cock warming, lots of kissing here too, jk kind of needs to be fed a bar of soap, reader is in distress because he's so blunt, help they're being cheesy and lovey dovey again, having a healthy, loving relationship and having dirty, nasty sex as usual, just jk and reader being couple goals if you ask me.
a/n :almost named this 'ink, kink and a handful of pretty tits' , you'll find out why soon enough hehe... but in other news, how have you all been? thank you so much for all the support and love on the other part of the anthology. really glad to know alot of people liked it. i hope alot of people like this piece too. without further ado, I give you : this huge block of gritty sin and wholesome fluff. like if you liked it, reblog to share and share your thoughts and feelings in the replies!
taglist : @softiegukk @ppeachyttae @kooafraid @jkmybby - it's here 🤧💜
-
masterlist
-
'bad girls don’t get to cum.’
This was what the shirt Jungkook’s girlfriend was wearing said when she walked into the ink parlor with her pretty little skirt and a friend of hers.
He was in the middle cleaning up before heading out for lunch with his partner.
Jungkook stood straighter and watched your green haired friend practically drag you in.
June, he recalled briefly. You talked about her sometimes and she was a friend of a friend who had a background in art and designing like she did.
‘Hello, JK!’ She greeted with a saccharine sweet smile but it fell when she noticed the other occupant in the room. 'Hoseok.’
Ah, speak of the devil.
The pseudo-pierced, neon blonde gave a howdy from somewhere in the back.
'Hey, June.’ He returned nicely, eyes flickering to his sullen looking girlfriend. ‘Nice shirt.’
June perked up in agreement.
‘I know right! I picked it out myself!'
You shot them daggers and pursed your lips.
'Don't even start with me.’
Then you nudged past them and disappeared around the back.
Jungkook blinked, a little taken aback by just how peeved you seemed to be about something.
If it wasn’t obvious before, it was too blatant to not address now.
He looked to June for answers and found her shaking her head, sighing.
'A storm that one. A storm, I tell you.’
Of course. Everyone knew you were a force to be reckoned with, not one to be trifled with, but your mood suggested something more the latter happened and it had him feeling concerned.
'Is she okay?’
June shrugged.
'Just a little bitter. She lost in a bet. That shirt? It’s part of her punishment.’
'Oh.’ He said. Interesting. He wasn’t expecting that but somehow it made sense. His girlfriend could be a little competitive and she didn’t really like losing at all. That calmed him a little, at least it wasn’t something serious. Not to the point that he’d need to intervene and get involved at least. He wouldn’t need to revert to his rougher days and go around knocking out some teeth and breaking a couple of ribs to make you smile like the sunshine you were again. Putting a smile on he tore his gaze off the back door and turned to face June again. 'So, you here to get a tattoo?’
Instantly, she straightened and grinned, clasping her hands over her chest.
'Yes, actually.’ She batted her lashes at him. ‘You sure you can’t write your initials on my tits? J for Jung, K for Kook. Just in tiny.’
Jungkook laughed and got back to clearing his station.
‘No can do.’ He declined like he always did. ‘I can recommend a place where they can get it done for you if that’s what you really want.’
‘That’s no fun.’ He could hear the pout in her voice. ‘It has to be you.’
He chuckled lightly.
The reason why Jungkook wasn’t outright weirded out or bluntly asking her to see herself to the exit is because oddly enough, he was used to this. Her antics, her advances. She’d been doing this for as long as he’d known her. He heard that she had a crush on him once or something like that, but it didn’t bother you so it didn’t bother him. The two of you trusted each other. He just sometimes wondered if she’d ever get tired or find someone for herself.
‘Sorry.’ He cleaned his hands off with a towel. ‘Hyung’s about to head out for lunch.’
She perked up like he knew she would and he almost grinned in triumph. No hard feelings, he just really needed an escape right now.
‘He recently got his paycheck too.’ Jungkook added, thanking the heavens he knew enough about the art major from you and observing to know her favorite things revolved around food, shopping and harassing Hoseok.
She gasped and spluttered.
‘For real?’
'Yeah.’ He nodded, gladly roping her in even more. 'You should go with him.’
She gave him a salute and a curt nod and proceeded to easily exit his work station.
He distantly registered her buttering up an annoyed Hoseok in the background as he concentrated with finishing up at his station up. Idly, his eyes flitted to the back door where you had disappeared off into with a light crease in between his brows.
But it wasn’t a look of worry.
His curiosity far outweighed his concern right now.
-
You verbally pounced in defense before the door even came to a close behind him.
'Don't even say a word.’
‘I didn’t say anything.’
'You look like you want to say something.’
His office was nothing grand. Just a medium sized room with maroon walls and vintage furniture. He had pictures of things he liked on the walls and some odd bits like a skate board, a dream catcher hanging from the ceiling and motorbike helmet, a baseball bat and a guitar amongst others arranged into some short randomly sized cabinets he had lined up at the walls.
It was quite for a while as he fiddled with the helmet clasp for a bit while you brooded in the corner.
‘A bet huh?’ He mused, swallowing back any sound that resembled laughter, at least for now. ‘And you really lost?’
‘Shut up.’
He let it out lightly, setting the helmet down to turn and sit back against one of the racks at the wall opposite of you.
'If we look at the bright side, at least it’s not a furry onesie.’ He shrugged at your skeptical look. 'That shirt looks good on you.’
It did. Like your skirt did too. Baby pink, airy and with a flow. And your shoes, translucent heels with straps that criss crossed your ankles and calves beautifully. In all honesty, you could rock a trash can and he’d be absolutely floored at the sight of it.
'Thanks. It's still humiliating though.’ You murmured, feet dancing where they were perched on his work desk while you harrumphed and pouted in the corner like it did when you weren’t sure how to respond because you flustered. ‘It's all June's fault. She dragged me into this.’
He nodded, humming absently.
Thank you June, for dragging her into this.
‘It’s not that bad.’ He said, distracted, thoroughly taking you in from head to toe. Every dip and curve and every roll of skin.
Not bad at all. Perfect. So pretty.
‘I guess.’
'C'mere.’ His hands itched to grab. ‘I wanna see.’
You stood after staring at him for a while before you walked over to him, heels clicking. Your palm naturally came to rest over his broad chest when you settled in between his legs, feeling him up at him through his black tee as you looked up at him.
‘Nice.’ He said, looking you over as he held your waist, thumb brushing the bare skin there. ‘You look good in crop tops.’
‘Well it’s summer so…'
Thank lord for summer too.
‘Is that why you’re not wearing a bra too?’
You paused, looking at him and your body actually went hot against him.
'Why do you look so shocked? It’s pretty obvious.’ He said, shrugging, unable to help his amusement at how flushed out you were getting. His hands rose up your ribs, thumbs brushing the underside of your tits. ‘I could see your nipples from miles away. They've been hard since the moment you walked in.’
'It’s part of the punishment for loosing the bet.’ You groaned, watching him stroke you softly, then you chanced him a glance through your lashes, shy and bashful almost, making his heart jump in his chest. ‘Are you mad? That I walked around like this.’
He stared at you for a while, thinking over your words as he poured over how cute you looked in the moment, then he slowly shook his head.
‘Not even a little bit?’
He pursed his lips. Well.
He imagined you walking down the street, tiny skirt swaying, tits jiggling with every click of your heels, turning heads with every step, so pretty with your stiff nipples pressing against the thin material of your shirt and your long, shapely legs and your soft plump lips and your perfect pretty face and-
It wasn’t so much jealousy that struck. It was some baser, primal and it was telling him to do more than just grab your boobs. He wanted to rip your shirt off, bend you over the table and shove your skirt over your full ass so he could-
'Maybe a little bit.’ He relented, groaning with restrain. Fuck. He felt like growling. 'I just know they were staring.’
'They were.’
You told him with a little giddy stretch to your lips, no doubt loving to see him act so possessive and territorial over you.
He made a displeased face and you laughed a little.
'Don't be mad.’ You said, stroking his neck. He was getting hot there, his pulse picking up. ‘People stare all the time but they’re just looking. You're the only one who gets to feel it and touch.’
He grunted absently, distracted. He was squeezing your boobs with his inked fingers now, utterly occupied with the task at hand.
There wasn’t anything sexual about it. It was a tender gesture even and it made you smile, shifting your hand to cradle the back of his head, teasing the downy, wavy hair there.
'It's almost lunch.’ You said, looking at the clock over his head as he nuzzled into your chest, breathing you in. ‘You’ve got plans with Hoseok?’
‘No.’ He shook his head. His voice was muffled and a little slurry. There was something all intoxicating and grounding and satisfying about your sweet scent, and your softness, your presence, just everything that was you. ‘He went out with June.’
You snorted, nuzzling your cheek into his temple, hugging his neck.
'Seriously.’
‘Yeah.’ He said, palming at you now, kneading the swell softly that give beneath his touch. 'Think they’re gonna be out in town for a while. He just got his paycheck.’
‘Wow. So she’s about to suck his wallet dry. ‘You mused, understanding the situation instantly. You pulled away a little to look down at him questioningly. 'What about you? Have you had lunch yet?’
His pupils were all blown out and there was a telling flush to his face.
‘Later.’
Oh.
Wordlessly, he leaned up to kiss you and you melted into his lips.
Your arms came around his neck and you pressed yourself into him.
Standing, he guided your bodies them to couch in corner and lifted you onto his lap as he sat.
Immediately, you started grinding into him and shoved your hands under his shirt, feeling his ripped skin as you kissed his neck.
His own palms settled on your rear under you skirt, large hands fondling the flesh as his head fell back.
'Fuck…' he hissed out your name when you suckled on his pulse, making his fingers dig into your flesh as his cock twitched in his pants. He was aching, and the fabric felt stifling, he’d been hard for so long now, but he loved how it felt when you put your mouth on him like that too much to want to part from you right now. ‘Do that again.’
You did, with more vigor this time, sure to leave a mark, sensually rolling you hips into the bulge at his crotch as you pinched his nipples.
Grunting, he slipped his hand lower and fingered you through your underwear.
‘Guk…' you stuttered, riding his fingers as you own clutched at loose fine waves at the base of his neck. You gasped when he pushed the damp piece of fabric aside to slip his finger inside your snatch. ‘Fuck!’
'Shh…’ he hushed, detaching his hand from your rear to grab your hair and angle your head back. ‘Look at me.’
You opened your eyes weakly, moaning when you saw him gazing down at you with impossibly dark eyes.
‘I want to see the faces you make when you ride my fingers,' He husked out and you fluttered around him. He added another finger, adjusting a little to press at your stiff clit, and he cursed when you tightened around him, increasing your pace, hopping in his lap. ‘That’s right… keep fucking yourself on my fingers…'
His eyes flickered to your chest where your tits were bouncing, straining against the thin fabric of your shirt, nipples poking out.
Noticing his staring, you moved your hand from his shoulder to reach for the hem but he stopped you.
‘No.’ he rasped, holding your hair tighter, eyes flickering to your face. ‘Keep it on.’
The look in your hazy eyes was decidedly puzzled.
‘To remind me.’
Is all he said, before he dipped down and closed his mouth around your clothed nipple, making you cry out in shock and pleasure.
His other hand slid down from your hair to the small of your back where you were arched to hold you close as he pressed his face further into the softness of your tits, nibbling at you through your shirt as he fucked you steadily with his fingers.
'Kookie…’ you panted, fingers tightening in his silky hair as you quivered tellingly around his fingers. Your eyes snapped shut when he added a third and shifted to wrap his mouth around your other breast. ‘Fuck!’
He bit down on your nipple, rubbing down on your clit hard in a way that had you jolting and gasping for air just for a second.
'Jungkook-'
The air was knocked out of you when you were suddenly lifted before your back hit the cool surface of his desk.
His hand shot out for your jaw before you could even blink back into focus and your eyes widened at the sight of him looking down at you under his nose, his hair in his eyes.
‘Jungkook?’
He ignored you, languidly undoing his belt as he held you down.
'You wanna cum, babe?’
'Yes, Jungkook.’ You whined, your mouth watered when you peeked him grabbing his cock and stroking it. ‘Please… let me-'
He tightened his grip and you whimpered.
‘I know.’ He husked, looking you over, making you squirm under his intent, smoldering gaze. ‘So you gotta listen to me.’
You nodded as much as his hold would allow, hips wiggling. You couldn’t keep you anticipation in of your tried, and you only hoped he would understand and not punish you for wanting it so bad.
'What did I say earlier,' He asked, no, demanded you tell him, feeling your drippy slit idly. ‘Come on, let’s hear it.’
You tried to think back but it was hard to focus when he was flicking your clit with his thumb and fingering you again, stretching his digits in scissor like motions, trying to see how ready you were to take him.
‘Well?’
You swallowed thickly, seeing double. You could barely think straight. It was impossible to focus on anything else but him right now but he wasn’t exactly asking you.
'Look at me.’ You forced yourself to part out, knowing nothing else would be happening if you didn’t pull yourself together and say it if he was in this particular mood. ‘You said… look at me.’
'Good.’ He praised, pleased with how good you were being for him. ‘Think you can do that for me? Think you can be good for, Daddy?’
You moaned and gushed at the seams.
‘Yes!’
'Good, good.’ He mumbled out and patted your thigh, and your chest heaved and expanded all at once as you watched him slide his touch up to hold your hip to bring you closer so that the fat head of his cock nudged at your open when he aligned himself at your entrance. He rasped out your name along with a low fuckas he rubbed himself all up on you, smearing you with pre cum, mixing your arousals, teasing your clit, making you spill even more. ‘You’re dripping. Bet I could slip right in like this…'
‘Kookie…'
‘Oho.’ He admonished, slapping your clit with his cock. You twitched off the table whimpering but he held you down by the hip. He said your name, brows drawn in a little. ‘Do it right. Or else I can’t give you want you want.’
'Daddy! Please! I need-'
‘What do you need?’
‘You! Your cock! Please put it inside-‘
You heard him chuckle.
'I'll give it to you, since you asked so nicely.’
You gasped as he filled you up, fingers shooting out to grasp his shirt and pull when he leans over to kiss your cheek, hovering over you with his one strong arm on one side of beside your head, tats dancing as his muscles flexed, the other gliding up your sides to knead your tit generously.
‘I'm gonna fuck you.’ He husked ‘Right here, right now, on this desk.’ A kiss over your erratic pulse, teeth dragging over the sensitive patch of skin. ‘You like that?’
'Yes, daddy,' You moaned needily, literally on the verge of tears and burning all over, aching for relief and release and him. ‘I do… so much…'
He kissed your lips and he grinned, rolling his hips into yours, stirring you up deliciously from the inside.
'How do you want it? Hard and fast? Rough and slow?’
'Yes!’
Jungkook chuckled again, taking your hand where it laid uselessly at your side to lace his fingers with yours over your head.
‘God.’ He breathed out, taking you in reverently behind his fringe. ‘You’re a mess.’
Then he began fucking you in earnest.
Slow at first, and deep, dragging his cock in and out your plush tightness languidly and then fast and hard, flexing his hips in a way that had you bouncing and shifting up on the table. His hand, laced in yours was the only thing keeping you grounded as your senses left you and stars filled your visions, and he drew you forward onto his cock every time he slammed back in, never letting you get too far from him for too long.
The wet sounds of skin on skin and his balls smacking against your ass filled the room, melding with the sounds of your heavy breathing.
The feet of the table creaked as he pummeled you, scratching against polish wood with the force of each sharp, deliberate piston of his hips into yours.
He gazed down at you, his damp fringe grazing your forehead as his breath fanned you Cupid’s bow. His lips were close enough to touch, just brushing yours, so distracting, but you fought to stay focused and keep your gaze on him liked he’d said, caressing his neck with your free hand and melding into him.
‘Fuck…’ he rasped breathlessly against your lips, the vein beneath your fingertips pulsing wildly like his cock was in you. ‘You close, princess? Gonna come on my cock, baby girl?’
'Yes,' you nodded frantically, tightening your legs around his hips to draw him closer as your ribs expanded overwhelmingly, the heels of your hell clad feet pressing into the base of his spine. ‘Daddy… I’m gonna- I'm gonna-'
He reached in between you to rub at your clit vigorously and hissed when you cried out and clenched him hard.
‘Oh my- fuck!’
'That's right…' he ushered hoarsely while watching your expression contort in all sorts of pleasure. ‘Be a good girl and come for me. Now.’
You unraveled and imploded at his command and arched sharply off the desk, unable to keep your eyes from snapping shut as you gripped his fingers hard, your nails digging into his nape.
Jungkook cursed into the crook of your neck, doubling over himself and gripping your hip hard enough to leave imprint as he gave a final hasty jerk before he spent himself in your, filling you with his thick, hot load.
His weight stayed over you for a while as you both took some time to gather yourselves, damp strands brushing your face as he pulled away from your neck to kiss you softly. His hands slid up your hip and under your shirt, settling over your ribs. The light brush of his thumb around the under side of your breast as he stroked the faint lines there was almost lulling.
‘Was I good?’ you asked breathlessly, playing with his fingers where your hands were still laced.
‘So good.’ He spoke against your lips, smiling a little, giving you a reassuring squeeze. ‘That’s why I let you cum.’
He chuckled at the sharp look you gave him and he gave you one last, lingering peck before he pulled away.
You fixed the straps of your damned top that had slid down as you slowly sat up, wincing slightly at the dull ache between your legs and making a face when you saw yourself dripping down your thighs.
'I can’t go out like this,' you announced to no one in particular, giving your entire self a look. ‘I look like a mess.’
Jungkook paused from fixing his fly and moved to the other side of the desk you were on to crouch.
‘I think I have something…'
You heard him shuffling around one of the drawers he had there.
‘Got it.’
When you looked up from your swinging legs he was coming over with what looked like an oversized hoodie.
He put it on you with a cheeky grin.
At first you didn’t think much about it. In fact, you liked it, it was perfectly huge on you, soft to the touch and it smelt just like him. But then you looked down and slowly read what it said.
daddy's little girl.
Not this again…
'Think of it as an upgrade.’ He said, giving you a thumbs up in response to your debauched expression. ‘You’re a good girl now.’
‘It says little girl, Guk.’ You grumbled with a not so subtle glare. 'Not good girl.’
‘I know but…' he smiled a little, shuffling closer to cup the back of your head and tilt his head to the side, taking you in closely. ‘You were so good for me earlier. I’m really proud of you.’
You looked up at him wordlessly.
When he put it like so sweetly like that, there really was no chance that you’d put up a fight. But you weren’t exactly known for being the most abiding person, he knew this about you well and he loved how strong willed and stubborn you could be, sometimes for no reason. But he didn’t have any complains.
His favorite pastime was to fuck the attitude out of you at times when you were just being outright bratty.
'People are gonna stare.’
'Let them.’ He said so easily and it made your heart breath catch your chest. 'They can stare all they want. In the end… you’re my girl.’
Your heart did a little impossible jump inside. But he didn’t need to know that. He’d just pinch your cheeks and tease you for it.
You hit his chest, making him double over and clutch the spot in jest as you shuffled off and shoved him aside to grab your things of the edge of the chair.
Standing, the hem of the hoodie went way past your mid thighs.
You tried to be discreet about patting your cheeks. They were almost scalding beneath your fingertips.
Stuffing your hands into the wide pockets, you turned over to face him once you deemed you’d cooled down as much as you possibly could while he was still here. You found him sitting back on the desk, absently touching the place you had hit.
‘Does it hurt?’ Had you applied too much pressure?
‘No.’ He shook his head, a thoughtful look on his face. ‘Felt good actually.’
Of course.
You made a face and mumbled weirdo, under your breathe, heading for the door.
'Let's go,' you said, twisting the knob, deciding the fresh from outside would help with helping you chill down. You didn’t have to look into a mirror or feel at your cheeks to know you were still heatedly flushed. ‘I’m starving.’
'Wait.’ He called out, easily reaching your in three strides with his long legs to grab your wrist to stop you in your tracks. You watched him sink to his knees when you turned. He had some plies of wet tissue in his hand. 'You can’t go out like this.’ He mumbled, wiping at the sticky muck trickling down your legs. ‘You’re dripping all over.’
He was so crude about it. At this point, would you really get over the heat stroke that was threatening to get you? You were starting to feel dizzy. You touched his shoulder to steady yourself.
'I thought you didn’t care.’ You said, letting him clean you. At his questioning look you added to clarify. ‘If people see.’
Jungkook momentarily stopped with wiping you down to address what you said with undivided attention.
'I do. You’re my girlfriend. I want them to know that but…' he held your gaze from his crouch, his expression serious. ‘I’m the only who gets to see you like this. Dripping cum down your leg.’
Your brows rose to your hairline.
Jungkook got back to rubbing your legs clean, carrying on, and your hands too, just for good measure.
'Plus it must be real uncomfortable, walking around like that.’
'Yeah,' you nodded absently.
You were flattered and you felt appreciated and it felt nice hearing him say things like that about you, obscene and lewd as they were- but you honestly didn’t even know how to express all this so you just stayed silent and fought to stand straight while you clutched his shoulder as the butterflies in your tummy acted up.
'Done.’ He declared, jumping to his feet. He was full on grinning.
Wiping his hands and tossing the used tissue aside, he reached for yours and opened the door with the other.
You stared at the back of his head as he led the way down the hall.
His hair was messy. Your fingers itched to reach out and fix it up a little.
‘What do you want to eat?’
He asked, shooting you a glance over his shoulder.
You blinked out of your thoughts and looked away to stare at the abstract portraits on the wall, pondering on it for a moment.
The noon summer breeze carrying heat hit them when you stepped outside.
'Italian?’
He perked up at that, pausing in reaching for his car keys.
'Italian?’
‘Yeah.’ You nodded, regretfully unlinking their hands to finally right his hair, feeling satisfied once you did, then yours, now a little more mussed from dancing in the wind. ‘A new place opened up recently, just down the street. I heard it’s a bit overpriced but,’ You shrugged your shoulders. ‘You just received your paycheck.’
Jungkook laughed at that and nodded.
‘Alright.’ He shoved his keys back in. ‘Let’s go have overpriced Italian. My treat.’
You smiled and walked after him, matching his pace.
Your fingers brushed and naturally intertwined again.
He gave a little tug, idly looking around.
'So you're gonna tell me what this bet was about or …'
That earned him a pinch on the arm, to which he barely even winced at.
'Shut up.’ You grumbled, then you rubbed your palm against the spot even though it probably just tickled more than hurt since he was chuckling again. ‘I’ll tell you later.’
He peered down at you with a shine in his eyes and nodded with a soft smile.
The breeze had messed with your hair a little.
Gently, he brushed your hair aside and patted the top of your head playfully, and God, he just couldn’t help but plant a lingering kiss on your forehead.
‘Sure.’
There was nothing in the world he could ever deny you.
Taking you out, spending time with you, holding your hand and kissing you like this was the least he could do.
Jungkook meant it whenever he told you he’d give you the world if you asked.
-
well, this au is driving me insane. it's a love hate thing ;-; thoughts?
435 notes · View notes
bratkook · 4 months ago
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switch up! (m) jjk.
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banner by @dee-ehn
pairing. bass player!jk x reader  genre. fluff, smut word count. 18k warnings. lotsa kissing, oral sex (m. & f.), sooome spit bc why not, protected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cockwarming?? summary. you would have never expected your shy, innocent art partner to be the man on stage covered in tattoos note. the tags are janky as fuck so if u read and enjoy, pls reblog ! let me refer you to this post of mine that birthed this hannah montana/double life jungkook. he is sweet and lowkey filthy and i love him sm & hope u will too <3, this fic is half plot and half smut to get myself back into writing filth and also to finally give jk a bassist story on my page lol, i’ve been working on this idea since january...writers block has been gnarly as fuck...so please let me know what you think of it hehe ty ilysm (also pls dont ask me for a part two, if i decide to write more for them ill let u guys know<3) taglist. @parkdatjimin , @jimilogy , @cheekychoca , @jjk301 , @marcoazz2 , @girlsforgloss , @fancycollectormoon , @aurevoir-le-bitches , @redbabie17 , @tomotae​ , @heartykoo ,
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The gentle breeze of the wind flows around you, trees rustling above, leaves fluttering down and landing on the blanket you had just meticulously spread out. The red and yellow leaves stand out against the light material, and you’re tempted to just leave them there but your desire to make this perfect has you crawling forward instantly, plucking the leaves and tossing them aside before smoothing out the fabric once more and settling back onto your butt. 
There, that’s better. 
The set up you currently had looked more like a picnic than the original drawing ‘date’ you had arranged. A wooden wicker basket was to your left, full of a variety of snacks and treats for you to munch on while you worked, your art supplies nestled to the side of it. You had almost forgotten them in your haste to leave, too excited about spending time with your art partner outside of class to remember what the actual premise of this was. It doesn’t stand out too much, the giant quad in the middle of your campus was occupied by other couples having similar picnics all around you, so hopefully you can pass this off as no big deal. 
Jungkook definitely doesn’t mind it though. When he approaches the set up you have, dark bag slung over his shoulder and his arms tucked into the pockets of his coat, he smiles as he sees you fidgeting with the edges of the blanket that flutter up with the wind. There's a small pep in his step as he gets closer, the small jitters he always felt while around you creeping up his spine and mixing with excitement. It's the same cocktail of emotions he has swirling in his gut anytime you were near. 
The crunching of leaves grabs your attention, looking up as you rest your bag on a corner to prevent it from flying up again. He eyes the curve of your legs peeking out underneath the plaid skirt you wear, covered in sheer black tights in an attempt to shield yourself from the cooler weather. A blush dusts his cheeks when he meets your gaze and realizes he’s been caught gawking at you like he normally does. 
The smile on your lips as you wave him over only makes him hurry up, taking longer strides until the chunky black shoes on his feet are sticking out against the creme colored blanket. 
“Sorry, am I late?” he wonders, lowering his bag beside yours before slowly sitting down. His all black ensemble swallows him up, the only form fitting article being the turtle neck peeking through his coat. When he adjusts his glasses, looking up at you with a small grimace, you snap out of it and clear your throat. 
“No, I got here a little earlier to set this all up.” You reach for the wicker basket, flipping it open and sliding it in between you so he could get a glimpse of what was inside. “I hope you like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”
Jungkook smiles down at the basket before locking eyes with you once more. “I love them actually. Thanks.” His fidgety hands waste no time pulling out his art supplies, not knowing how to sit in comfortable silence with you beside him, needing to occupy himself to not say anything without thinking. His mind was always whirling whenever you were within close proximity, it was a miracle he could get work done in class with you inches from him. 
You recognize the nervous ticks he has, how his fingers twirl the pencil in his hand as he flips open his sketch pad, how his eyes bounce from your knees back to the paper—too nervous to look up at you again. His toffee brown strands fall over his brows, tips of them resting on the rim of his glasses as they slide down his nose, his finger coming up to push them back up with a scrunch. It’s adorable—he’s adorable—in that sweet boy next door kind of way. 
His soft spoken demeanor and gentle smile was the first thing you noticed months ago when the semester had just started, mentally cheering yourself on for choosing to sit beside him and becoming self proclaimed partners. Jungkook was definitely artistically gifted, not once complaining when you’d lean over to his side and awe at his work, trying to hide his bashful smile as he shrugged off your praise. It was the main reason you weren’t shy to compliment his art, or his outfits, or him in general, just wanting to see the cute way his nose scrunches up and his lips curl into a grin. 
“You look cute and cozy,” you breathe out, staring right at him and smiling when his eyes peer up at you through his glasses. Jungkook has since learned to not expect you to look away, you were far too comfortable with yourself to be embarrassed or bashful. Instead, you continue to give him a once over, small smile on your face when his cheeks blush slightly in a way that can’t be attributed to the cool breeze. 
You can already tell his mind is trying to unscramble a response to your casual compliment but you save him from it with a small sigh, your eyes falling onto his sketch pad instead. “So, how do you want me?”
Jungkook can’t hide his look of shock, his own thoughts taking over before he realizes what you truly meant. His fingers grip the edges of his sketchpad as he clears his throat, smoothing over the paper and looking up at how you were positioned. “Like that’s fine, but however you’re comfortable. I’ll try to work fast so you’re not stuck in this position for long.”
You merely shrug at his comment, delicately placing your hands on your knees and readjusting your legs to the side. “Honestly take your time. I know it’ll look amazing.”
“Yeah, thanks to you,” he mumbles quietly, a sheepish smile on his lips that only makes you smile widely in return. He quickly tries to deflect it by reaching for his pencil and beginning the sketch but you’re having none of that. 
“Was that your way of saying I look amazing?” Your voice is soft, a small fluttering in your stomach at his compliment. Throughout the weeks of knowing each other, in between your harmless flirting, Jungkook had only had the courage to reciprocate it a few times. Each time he did, whether it was saying your hair looked pretty, or you smelled nice, it stuck with you and continued to fuel the gentle crush you have. 
“You always look amazing,” he adds, eyes focused on the light strokes of his pencil, outlining your silhouette in the exact position you were in. Jungkook knew the second you set your sights on him you’d push his train of thought right off the tracks every time you spoke to him, turning him into the shy, stuttering boy he was in highschool. 
He’s grateful that you never push it too far, not knowing if he’d be able to keep up the teasing and compliments while attempting to focus on the project at the same time. Instead you try your best to fight back the smile on your lips, not wanting to mess up what he was currently drawing. 
It really didn’t matter to you how long this took, you’d be more than happy to sit here for hours if it meant you’d be able to have his full attention. It gives you all the time in the world to admire your view, your eyes tracing down the slope of his nose, the outline of his lips when he purses them in concentration, the fluttering of his lashes as his eyes bounce up from the page to glance at you before looking back down to capture any detail he might have missed. 
Jungkook is a silent worker, his style of choice relying too much on intricacy and detail to allow him to focus on anything else. His hands move smoothly across the page, the gentle scraping of his pencil blending in with the rustling of leaves and soft hums he’d let out as he analyzes his work. It’s only when he finishes the general sketch of your face that he looks up at you fully, a proud smile on his lips as he holds up the sketchpad for you to see the progress. 
“Okay, you’re free to talk now.” He must have sensed your desire to spark a conversation, knowing fully well how chatty you were on a daily basis. Jungkook enjoys it though, finding the random questions you’d ask or the simple stories you’d tell him very endearing. Everytime he spoke to you felt like he was flipping the page into another chapter of your life, knowing just a little bit more about you in a way that left him eagerly anticipating the next. 
“Oh that looks amazing already,” you gasp, inching forward a bit to get a better look. It was the bare bones of what would be another one of his masterpieces but what he currently had was still enough to leave you in awe. 
“I still need to add all the heavy details and shading but we’d probably be stuck here all night if I did it now.” 
“We have until next week to turn this in so we can always meet up again in between classes to finish up anything.” The eagerness laced in your words makes him smile, the thought of seeing you once again before today’s date was even over leaving him just as giddy. A shy nod in confirmation is all he gives you before he’s jumping back into the drawing. 
This time however you don’t sit in silence, able to chat away now that the attention was off your face. It lets the time fly by, giggling together as you casually bring up the fact that the campus goose had chased you down earlier and you’d have to find a new route down here because the experience had been slightly traumatic. Your favorite moment however was munching on the sandwiches you brought and carefully feeding him some so his messy fingers wouldn’t ruin his work, his eyes crinkling up in thanks after every bite. 
His boyish laugh makes your cheeks hurt from smiling, something he takes note of as he looks up at you fondly, eyes locking together for a brief moment before the vibration of your phone grabs your attention. It buzzes against your leg, a slew of messages coming in from your best friend, all in varying degrees of distress as she contemplates her outfit choices for tonight. That's when you take note of the time, realizing you were supposed to be on your way to her place already. A quick response saying you’d be there soon is all you send before locking the device entirely. 
“Are you busy tomorrow?” you wonder, peering over to see how much more he had finished of his drawing. 
“I’m free in the morning. Why? Do you have to leave right now?” His doe eyes stare at you in curiosity, twirling the pencil in his grasp while you inch even closer to admire his work once more. He can smell your perfume, the earthy scent of amber warming him up, it reminds him of a rainstorm and he tries his best not to not make it obvious how much he enjoys your close proximity. 
“Yeah, I didn’t realize what time it was. I’m supposed to meet up with a friend right now, but we can finish up our drawings tomorrow.” 
Jungkook fishes his own phone out of his pocket, the bright white numbers letting him know he was also running late to his plans, quickly packing up his supplies as he nods his head. “Do you want to meet here again?”
Despite his rush, he helps you fold up your blanket as you pack up the rest of your things as well, gently tucking it into the wicker basket you brought and handing it over with a cute smile. 
“Yeah, just text me what time and I’ll be here. Bye Jungkook,” you sing out, wrapping an arm around him in a swift hug that makes his heart skip. His own arms envelop you easily, squeezing you tight before pulling away, the two of you going your separate ways with excitement weighing heavy in your chest.
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“He sounds geeky,” Chungha jokes when you finally bring him up to her later that night, your turtleneck, glasses wearing, art loving description painting him in a nerdy light that was very much Jungkook. 
“Shut up, he’s nice.”
“That's always code for ugly.”
You roll your eyes at her jab, but it’s not like she sees it, too focused on lining her lips as she stares at herself in the mirror. A huff escapes you as you fall back onto her bed, arms spread out and your heart still feeling light from the time spent with him. Your lips roll together as you hold in the small squeal you want to release when you remember the way his cheeks had bulged out while you fed him the sandwich, how his tongue would peek out to swipe at any of the jelly on his lips. Jeon Jungkook was the definition of cute, Chungha had no idea what she was talking about. 
“He’s actually really cute Chungha,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you sit back up, watching as she fluffs her hair out before turning to look at you with an unconvinced stare. 
“Yeah, I’m sure he’s adorable. Hurry up and put some lip gloss on or something.” She reaches forward, grabbing a tube of gloss and tossing it at you with a chuckle. 
“Where are you dragging me to tonight?” you wonder, hauling yourself up to approach her brightly lit mirror. She has a prideful smile on her wine colored lips when she sees you doing exactly what she said, shooting you a thumbs up when you set the lipgloss into your bag once complete. 
“This club downtown. Cherin told me they play good music, and I’m in the mood to dance and make questionable decisions with cute boys.” You know she’s being serious too, the mischievous glint in her eyes and the way she adjusts her boobs in her top show you that much. When her finger comes up to poke at your own boobs you gasp and swat her hand away, cupping your tits with a glare. “Bring the girls out!”
“No, this top is cute.” She pokes at them once more, an evil laugh filling the air when you lift up your shirt to cover the small bit of cleavage showing. Thanks to your poor time management skills, it's the same outfit you wore earlier with Jungkook. Perfect for a cute day time drawing date, apparently not perfect for Chungha’s nightly activities. 
“At least take the tights off to show some skin.” She claps when you grumble under your breath as you once again do what she says, toeing off your heeled shoes and yanking the sheer material off your legs, balling it up before tossing it at her face. 
“Happy?”
“Partially, but I’ll manage. C’mon let’s go.” You know she desperately wants to force you to wear something a tad more revealing but she bites her tongue, keeping any more comments to herself the entire way to the club. And once you step into the crowded space, she’s too focused on trying to score free drinks to even think of saying anything else. 
You follow close behind her, eyes scanning the interior, trying to make everything out in the dim lighting. This isn’t like the usual places you go to on your nights out, the atmosphere differs greatly from the typical clubs where the bass was heavy and the flashing lights were blinding. Instead a stage was placed in the far end, low to the ground with a good crowd of people surrounding it as a group in rhinestone covered shirts played music. Suddenly, you’re grateful you had kept your earlier outfit on, the atmosphere in here being more laid back than you had anticipated. 
“Did Cherin tell you this was a music venue?” you speak into Chungha’s ear with a laugh, grabbing the shot glass she passes your way. The boy beside her looks a little offended when she completely turns away from him to talk to you, deeming him unnecessary after he bought you both drinks. 
“No, but I like the vibe. Plus, look around, there's plenty of options for you to choose from.” Her elbow nudges into your side obnoxiously before she throws back her shot, eyes screwed up as she makes a face at the taste. You mimic her actions, licking your lips as you look around at all of the options you apparently have. The two of you were pros at this, jumping from club to club, getting free drinks and a handful of new numbers added to your phone before the night was over and you were taking someone home. It’s what you did best, it was harmless fun that made for great stories, but as you analyze the crowd around you, no one catches your eye, your flirtatious abilities having been drained after the day spent with Jungkook. The only thing you want to do tonight is loosen up and enjoy the music filling the space up. 
“Go work your magic and get us more drinks,” you deflect her suggestion, laughing when her eyes switch back over to predator mode as she searches for the next sucker to buy her alcohol. 
You’ve learned a long time ago to never underestimate your best friend’s ability to get what she wants, only further proven when she manages to get you comfortably buzzed without ever taking her wallet out. By now the crowd of people have begun to move around as the band starts to play covers of popular songs, you and Chungha nestled in between them as you dance along to the music. It's a mess of limbs and raspy voices as a huddle of drunk girls joins you both, horribly singing along to the 80’s pop cover filling up the space. 
It’s not until she sneaks away once more to grab yet another drink that your bladder finally throws up a white flag in surrender for you to take a break. The pout on her face makes you giggle as you slowly leave her in her spot, sliding between people and following the glowing neon sign that leads you to the bathroom. Stumbling into the surprisingly vacant restroom and into a stall has you realizing you’re a little past buzzed. The checkered floor seems to fuzz together and the dark green stall doors begin to sway as you rest your elbows on your thighs and laugh to yourself. 
“Oh god,” you groan with a smile, rubbing your cheeks with your cold fingers. “No more drinks.” It’s honestly in your best interest, you and Jungkook were set to get together tomorrow morning to finish up your projects and there's no way you could allow a hangover to put a damper on it. 
With a lot of fumbling, you exit from the stall, catching sight of your reflection on the mirror above the sinks. The gloss coating your lips has long since wiped off on the glass of the drinks Chungha was feeding you, and that just wouldn’t do. Reaching into your side bag, you pull out the cherry scented gloss you had swiped from your best friend's counter, uncapping it and giving your lips a generous swipe before deeming yourself ready to re-enter the scene outside the bathroom doors. 
“What took you so long?” Chungha groans, manicured hand gripping your arm as she pulls you back into the crowd of people. “You almost missed the babes on stage.”
“Babes?” you snort. “I don’t think the men in bedazzled shirts count as babes.”
“Not them! Them.” She points up at the stage now, your eyes following her finger and spotting the new group that had taken over, just barely setting themselves up. The dreamy sound of her voice has you turning back at her before you get a good look at the members, gripping her cheeks to get her to look at you instead of drooling over them. 
“Nuh uh, you made me promise to never let you mess around with any band guys again after the last one!”
“But c’mon, look at them. The lead singer looks like he can slap me and call me a good girl.” That compels you to take a look for yourself, spotting the man gripping the microphone as he smiled into the crowd, a black striped shirt loosely buttoned down his chest. He was totally her type, which meant you had to drag her out of here asap before she was somehow shimmying her way to the front and tossing her bra at him. 
“I gotta get to the front. Its fate,” she announces, already attempting to slip her way past the tightly packed crowd. 
“That’s not fate, Chungha,” you laugh, gripping her arm tighter to prevent her from moving. The last time Chungha had gotten involved with a self proclaimed rockstar she went on a downward spiral and was fully convinced she needed to shave her hair, so really you’re doing her a favor here. 
“Why not?” she huffs, eyes squinting up at the stage to see the rest of the members. “Take your pick of the rest of the band, the drummer’s cute!” 
A quick glance lets you see the bright orange haired man sitting behind the drums, twirling the sticks around with a giant smile as he spoke to the singer. He was cute, but not enough for you to aid your best friend on her quest. “Not my type.” 
“Fine. The guitarist has big hands, I know your ass likes that.” The man stood to the right had a dangerously unbuttoned shirt just barely clinging on, long black hair framing his face perfectly. But the sharp look in his eyes as he scans the crowd makes you avert your sight immediately. 
“I’m pretty sure he would ruin my life, like instantly.” 
“What about the bass player?” She continues on, going down her list until hopefully one of them sticks enough for you to loosen your grip on her arm. 
“Oh my god Chungha, drop it,” you scoff, but your curiosity has already been piqued, wondering if he was just as attractive as the other members. The man in question has his back to the crowd now as he adjusts the straps of his bass before beginning to fiddle with the instrument. 
As he wanders to the left side of the stage your eyes follow him, dark strands of hair covering his face as he stares down at his fingers. Thick silver chains hang off his wrist, veiny hands curling around the neck of his bass, bold lines of ink trailing up from the silver bracelets before getting cut off by the cuffed sleeve of his dark patterned button up. 
He was definitely your type. 
And as you follow the trail up his arms, to the chains around his neck, tracing the dark lines that barely touch the edge of his throat, and the soft curve of his lips when he finally looks up, you can’t help but feel like he looks oddly familiar. Until suddenly, the similarities are a little too strong to chalk up to pure coincidence. 
“Oh my god,” you whisper out, blinking harshly when you don’t believe your eyes. Maybe it was the alcohol sloshing in your stomach and making your vision all wonky, but the man who has the bass hanging low on his hips looks far too much like your art partner. The similar shade of brown hair on his head is swooped back instead of covering his forehead the way it always did, but that adorable bucktooth smile you had a soft spot for is the clear indicator that it was him. If that didn’t tell you as much, the wide doe eyed look on his face as he faces the crowd is the giant sign that lets you know Jeon Jungkook from art class has a double life. 
Did he really have a double life? Not likely. But the stark contrast in his appearance had you thinking this was some Hannah Montana moment and you would have to take this secret to the grave. 
“Oh you liked the bassist huh?” Chungha cackles, success coursing through her veins when she realizes she might get her chance tonight. 
Okay maybe you could tell Chungha the secret too. 
“Shut up, that's him!”
“Who?” 
“Jungkook, the geek from my art class.” When she snorts in disbelief you slap her arm with force, ignoring her wince of pain. “On bass, the one covered in tattoos.”
“Oh shut the hell up.”
“I’m serious,” you whine.
“You said he was cute, not fucking sexy! He’s in a band?!” she shouts in a fit, ready to bombard you with questions before you cut her off with a plea. 
“We gotta go, I’m not sober enough to not make a fool out of myself in front of him.” Put Jungkook beside you in class, with his turtleneck and glasses, and you could flirt with him until his cheeks were red. But put him on stage where he's glowing, covered in ink, with an aura of confidence surrounding him, and you will go down way too fast for your dignity to survive. 
“What no, why?”
“Because—“
“Because what? You already told me you think he’s cute, how he gets all nervous around you, and now that you see him up there looking all fucking glorious you wanna run? No, babe this is fate.”
“This is not fate!” 
It’s uncharacteristically chicken for you to want to scram before you’re spotted, almost as if you were doing something you should be ashamed of instead of just enjoying a night out with your best friend. But your mind could not get itself out of the gutter, and all your thoughts were scrambled together to form some lewd visual of your cute art partner—who was currently chugging water like his life depended on it—spitting that exact water onto you. You had to go. Now. 
“You know the band, so I have a way in. Seems like fate to me.” Chungha sports a sly smile on her face, eyebrows wiggling at you as she tries to pry your hand off her arm a final time, giggling when you loosen your grip. 
“Oh you bitch, you’re pushing this for your own benefit.”
“Of course I am, but who are we to deny fate. Now we gotta get closer so you can get his attention and go fuck him in the bathroom!” 
You have absolutely no intention of fucking your art partner in the bathroom of this venue, but this version of Jungkook on the stage has you second guessing yourself. That’s not something you admit to Chungha though, because she will hold on to that and use it to guide every reckless decision she chooses to make tonight. Instead, you allow her to shimmy her way to the front with her free hand clasped to yours, no apologies sent to the girls she shoves out of the way. 
The band must have a good name for themselves judging by the people surrounding you, popular in this scene of music because the second the drums kickstart the first song everyone surges forward and screams in excitement. Chungha doesn’t care that she doesn’t know a single song, her eyes peering right up at the singer, just wishing and waiting for the right interaction to hook him. You were doing a slightly better attempt at pretending like you knew the music, bobbing your head along to the beat, but your own eyes were locked onto Jungkook. 
The loose fabric of his shirt flows around as he plays, slightly falling off his shoulder and revealing more of his tattoos to you, only making your brain short circuit some more. Why was it so hard for your mind to morph the cute and bashful Jungkook you were with earlier with the one you were currently staring at. This definitely had to be a sick dream, or maybe you were blackout drunk still in the bathroom stall you had walked into earlier. That had to be the only explanation to this. 
It’s something you believe, and sort of make peace with, until Jungkook scans the crowd with a smile and his eyes land on you. It’s a brief second before he moves on, but then the realization hits him and he’s double taking, the smile never leaving his face while he tries to make out that it's really you underneath the occasional flash of light. There’s a curious tilt to his head, his fingers never missing their spot on his instrument as the band goes through their songs, but he edges closer. 
He doesn’t look off put at seeing you—which makes you feel less guilty about discovering his double life—instead he looks proud, the twinkle in his eye sparkling when you finally smile back at him. That small interaction is just one of many, his eyes naturally gravitating to you throughout the set, almost as if he was double checking that you were actually there and weren’t just a figment of his imagination. 
As the band takes their first break, the singer panting into the microphone as he scans the crowd with a smile, Jungkook crouches down to grab his water. Your eyes are glued to him as he throws his head back and tilts the bottle, letting the liquid pour into his open mouth before he’s capping it once more, long fingers swiping at his lips to catch the stray drops. 
“It’s always nice to see a full house here On the Rox.” The crowd cheers at that, Chungha doing the most as she screams louder, successfully catching his attention as his eyes drop down to her. Your hands have to clasp around her shoulders to prevent her knees from giving out on her as he smirks. “I see a lot of pretty faces here tonight.”
Damn Chungha and her love of fate. 
“A lot of new faces here too,” another voice cuts into the space, and you recognize this one. Your eyes gravitate towards the left side of stage once more, locking onto Jungkook’s stare as he smiles at you before looking at the rest of the crowd. “If this is your first time seeing us tonight, I hope you enjoy it.”
“And if you’ve seen us before, make sure you give the newcomers some love.” The guitarist speaks now, his wavy black hair being raked off his face as he runs his fingers through it. The pick in his hand glides across his guitar with ease, a random chord playing through the speakers. “We got a couple songs left, are you ready?” 
The crowd cheers in response, Jungkook chuckling into the mic as he grips it, the silver chains dangling off his wrist. “You can do better than that. Are you ready?” His voice is strong, booming through the amps and getting the reaction they craved, everyone screaming as loud as they could. His lips spread out into a proud smile, and it’s impossible to look away from him. You’d never seen him like this before, but you can’t deny that confidence suits him, bathes him in this light that has your palms going clammy as he stares at you again. 
The sound of the next song rolling through barely registers within you as you snap out of it, pressing your forehead against your friend to collect yourself slightly before you’re able to look back up. It’s a blur of sounds and lights as their set progresses, you and Chungha loosening up enough to move around with the crowd as they play with their hearts. Jungkook continues to creep closer to you, never close enough to make it obvious but it makes your heart race each time he inched forward before wandering to the opposite side to interact with the crowd. 
You don’t even realize it’s coming to an end until the last note fades out and the lights dim, the low lighting in the place just barely showing you their silhouettes as they make their way off the stage. Chungha’s sighing dramatically the second the lights come back up, turning around to face you now that her eye candy was missing. 
“God they’re hot and talented. Do you have his number?” 
“Yeah, I do,” you mumble out, still in a daze as you slowly make your way through the huddle of people, eagerly anticipating the next group to take over and keep the party going. You needed a drink, maybe some water to quench the thirst you had growing inside of you. 
“Text him then, let him know you’re here.”
Jungkook definitely knew you were here, but maybe texting him wouldn’t be so bad. As you both get to the bar, Chungha ordering some water while you pull your phone out, someone settles in beside you in a haste. You don’t notice them at first, their palm resting on the bar top inches away from you, but when they tap their finger onto your shoulder they grab your attention. A quick glance to the side has you locking your phone instantly, forgetting the half written text meant to be sent to the man beside you. 
“Jungkook,” you breathe out, eyes wide and mouth drying up. Seeing him this close like that was so much harder than it was on stage. He’s still catching his breath from playing, ordering himself water to cool down. The tips of his hair have curled up, raked away from his face as he swipes it back, but when his nose scrunches up into a smile it brings you back to the earlier date today and the way he’d laugh at your stories. 
“I knew that was you, I just had to come make sure.” Jungkook chuckles, looking down at you with crinkled eyes. It's the first time you’ve seen him without his signature frames on, their absence opens up his face more, and you find yourself not able to maintain the normal eye contact you have with him without them on. 
“I was just about to text you to make sure you didn’t have a twin or something,” you laugh, hands fidgeting on the countertop, reaching for your water and taking a gulp. Chungha gently nudges your side, not able to contain herself as she sips her own water, trying her best to not look like she's eavesdropping. 
“No, I definitely don’t.” His voice blends in with the starting music of the next group that takes the stage. “We play On the Rox pretty often. I didn’t know you came here.”
“It’s my first time here actually. Our friend told us about this place.” You point at Chungha, holding in a laugh when she quickly inserts herself into the conversation, reaching her arm across to greet Jungkook with a handshake and a charming smile. 
“Hi, I’m Chungha. Is your lead singer single by any chance?” A snort escapes you at how forward she is, your hand coming up to cover the growing smile on your face when you notice the way Jungkook’s eyes widen at how unexpected her question is. 
He recovers quickly with a small laugh, his eyes looking over the both of you to scan the room, trying to find the blonde man in question. Jungkook spots him easily, waving him over with a knowing smile. “He is actually.”
“Score,” Chungha whispers low enough for you to hear, fluffing up her hair and adjusting her tits in her shirt before her eye candy approaches, the both of you turning around to face him. 
“Hey Yoongi, just wanted to introduce you to some people.” Jungkook rests his hand on your shoulder gently as he speaks to the singer, a soft smile on his face as he stands close. “This is Y/N.”
At the mention of your name Yoongi’s smile widens, his eyes looking up at Jungkook for a moment before locking onto you as he extends his hand out in greeting. “So you’re Y/N. Glad he finally invited you to a show.”
Jungkook clears his throat loudly, the two of them having a mental conversation that leaves Yoongi looking a little sheepish as he presses his lips together. It doesn’t take much guessing to know that he said something he shouldn’t have, exposing the fact that Jungkook obviously talked about you enough to have his friends hassle him into inviting you to a show. 
You hold back any teasing comment you might have as you nod along, barely able to say that it was nice to meet him before Chungha was swooping in for the kill and introducing herself. “Can I buy you a drink?”
Kim Chungha buying someone a drink, with her own money? She was down bad. 
With Yoongi’s attention gravitating towards your friend, it leaves you and Jungkook seemingly alone. His hand still rests on your shoulder, something he seems to realize as he slowly slides it down your arm before it comes to rest by his side. You grow to miss his touch instantly, subtly stepping a bit closer to him to close the small distance until your arm is gently pressed against his own.  
Jungkook smiles as he stares at you, noticing the uncharacteristically shy smile on your lips, how you can’t maintain eye contact, choosing to trace the petals crawling up his shoulder towards his neck instead. For the first time, he feels like he has the upper hand and he takes slight advantage of it, slyly tugging at his shirt to expose more of the tattoos he had somehow managed to keep under wraps this whole time, enjoying the way your lips press together as you avert your gaze when you know you’ve been caught staring. 
“Do you want a drink?” Jungkook breaks the silence, leaning back onto the bar top. 
“No, I'm trying to sober up, I don’t want a hangover tomorrow morning,” you laugh out, pressing your palm to your warming cheeks as you smile. If you added more alcohol to your system you could only imagine what your unfiltered self would blurt out in front of him. Your slightly buzzed self was already struggling to keep yourself together around him, you know all it would take was another shot for you to bring up how good he looked all sweaty on stage. 
“Were you guys planning on staying here all night?” he wonders, absentmindedly playing with the thick chains around his wrist. 
At his question you glance over at your friend and hum, seeing her and Yoongi huddled close as they spoke. The plan of action was usually hopping around clubs and bars until one stuck, but judging by the way she’s playing with the singer’s hair, it's safe to say she wouldn’t be going anywhere without him tonight. 
“We were but I think Yoongi hooked her already,” you chuckle, setting down your empty glass with a smile. “Do you usually stay here all night after you play?”
“Sometimes, but for the most part I end up at the convenience store down the street to stuff my face with ramen.”
“Oh that sounds good,” you hum, hands coming to pat at your stomach as you smile. The thought of slurping down warm ramen at the end of the night was enough to excite you, add Jungkook to the mix and it would be the perfect scenario to wrap up your night. 
“Do you wanna go, or do you think your friend will miss you?” he jokes, flicking his head in her direction, a smirk spreading on his face when he sees the way Yoongi’s staring at Chungha. 
“Definitely not. I’ll bet you a packet of cosmic brownies that she won’t even notice if I leave right now.” 
Jungkook does in fact get you a packet of cosmic brownies the minute you step into the convenience store, the two of you able to leave and walk all the way here without Chungha sending you a frazzled text. You know she’ll be beyond occupied with Yoongi until tomorrow morning, but Jungkook was good company so you’re not exactly opposed to the direction this night has gone in. In all honesty, being across from him as he slurps up steaming ramen, sitting on squeaky plastic chairs, illuminated by the light that filters out of the window a few feet away, beats stumbling drunk from bar to bar—for tonight at least. 
“It’s kind of alarming that neither of our friends noticed we left,” Jungkook laughs, wiping his mouth with a napkin before he's scooping up more noodles. 
You join in with his laughter, finally deeming your own noodles ready, opening up the flap to let all the steam billow out into the cool night. “Yeah, I’m gonna turn this into a life lesson for her tomorrow, but I'll let her enjoy her night.”
Jungkook hums suddenly as his phone vibrates on the table, eyes narrowing slightly as he reads the message he just recieved, his lips pulling into a smile until he’s laughing again and shaking his head. “My other bandmates just noticed my disappearing act, but only because I left before we packed up our things.”
“Oh,” you sit up straighter, “do you need to head back to help them?” You’re already gathering your things, ready to abandon your warm meal to leave. It’s not until Jungkook reaches across the table, his large palm coming to rest over your own, that you come to a pause, curious eyes looking at him and seeing the spark of humor written on his features. 
“No, it's fine. Taehyung, our guitarist, owes me for the amount of times I’ve loaded up his gear. They’ll be okay without me.” His voice is laced with reassurance, the weight of his hand lingering on top of yours for a moment longer. A smile spreads on his face as you turn your hand over in his grasp to gently wrap your fingers around his palm, thumb softly running over his knuckles before pulling away to allow yourself to eat your meal once more. 
“So, when did you guys start this band?” you ask with a small clear of your throat, leaning closer over the table to scoop some noodles into your mouth. Jungkook chuckles as you slurp them up, quickly sliding over a napkin when he spots the lingering noodle on the corner of your mouth. 
“They started the group a few years ago but I didn’t join until last year. I was roommates with Yoongi at the time and their original bass player quit so I filled in for a few shows as a favor until they found a replacement.” He stops for a moment to slurp up his own noodles, eyes staring off into the empty street as he chews before they fall onto you again, seeing the look of endearment clear on your face. “I never really wanted to be in a band, but once I joined them on stage and got to feel the rush of playing somewhere other than my bedroom, I was hooked.”
“So did they even try to find a replacement or was that just their way of luring you in?” 
Jungkook playfully scoffs at that, tongue prodding at his cheek as he straightens up in his seat, eyebrows cocking up in a way that makes you giggle. “My raw talent was all they needed to see for them to forget about trying to get a replacement.” He can barely finish his sentence before he’s laughing, the small burst of confidence morphing into the same bashfulness he’d have when you’d gush over his art pieces. The small slivers of his personality, the one you’re familiar with, help ease your silly nerves from earlier, replacing the jitters of the unknown with the airy feeling that came from being around him. 
“I mean, am I wrong? We have to be sort of talented if you actually stayed and watched.”
“Can I be honest?” you mumble out, a wry smile on your face that instantly makes his expression drop. 
“Oh god, did we really suck?”
“No!” you laugh, cheeks warming up when you see the way he’s looking at you, eyes wide with worry. “You guys were great, honestly, but I sort of panicked when I saw you up there and almost left before you could spot me.”
His laugh fills the air now, teasing and playful, not being able to fathom you doing that. “What, why?”
Without the earlier alcohol clouding your thinking, you’re able to feel the tinge of embarrassment creep up on you. Jungkook only laughs louder when you pick up your chopsticks and try to hide your shame by stuffing your face with more noodles. It doesn’t work, he’s as patient as ever as he sits back with his arms crossed, staring you down until you have no choice but to give him an answer. 
“Look, I was a little tipsy so when I saw you on stage looking like that, I kinda just chickened out and wanted to leave because I thought I would embarrass myself if you saw me.” 
Jungkook is a little too humble to know what you mean, not realizing that seeing him on stage in all his glory compared to the version of him you were used to had given you whiplash. He also can’t imagine a situation where you’d be the one embarrassing yourself, the amount of times he’s been caught in the act of admiring you, having your voice snap him out of his daydreams was enough to make him nervous about being around you. But you being on the opposite end wasn’t even a thought for him. 
“Is that why you’ve been acting like this?” A smile tugs on his lips when you look down at your empty bowl, no longer able to use your food as a distraction. He finds it endearing, deciding to pick up one of the steamed bun cakes he got and passes it your way, a soft smile pushing out his doughy cheeks when you accept it. 
“Like what?” You’re feigning ignorance now, hating that he had been able to detect your change, no matter how small. 
“Quiet, looking all shy. I’m used to being the flustered one,” he admits, recalling all the moments he would stumble over his words. The way you couldn’t make eye contact earlier, how wide your eyes were when he approached you at the bar, it seemed like your brain was fumbling as you tried to respond to him. It’s a stark contrast to the way you’d interact with him in class, confident gaze never failing in making his heart stutter in his chest. The tables have turned slightly, evening out the playing field because he can see the effect he has on you so clearly now. “Who knew all it would take was me holding a bass to have you switch up on me.”
“It’s not you playing the bass that got me like this,” you chuckle, smiling when he takes a bite of his bun, one side of his cheek bulging as he chews it. “I was just a little surprised by all of this.” Your hand motions to his arms and neck, giggling when he extends both arms out and flips them over like he has no idea what you’re talking about, playful frown on his lips when he stares at the dark ink on his arms. 
“These? They’re temporary tattoos, don’t let them fool you. I did them right before the show so they’d look fresh.” He’s full of shit, you can tell by the way he rubs his arms, the ink settled into skin, no sheen or obscene brightness that came with fake tattoos. The smirk he wears doesn’t let you believe it for a second, his hand coming up to tug at his shirt like he had earlier, sneakily showing you the tattoo you had seen crawling up his neck, being able to make out the lines more clearly outside of the dim club. 
“Oh really?” you laugh, nudging his leg under the table with your foot as he snickers, nose scrunched up while he adjusts his shirt once more and settles his arms on the table. He reaches across to give your curious eyes a better view, palms outstretched until his fingers meet yours. A small shiver racks his body as your fingers trace along his skin, eyes looking up at him for permission, and when he softly nods you slowly inch up past his wrist to make out the art on his body. Each piece is connected, woven into the next so intricately you could tell he had properly planned it out. Whether they had meaning or not, it was clear Jungkook had put a lot of thought behind it all. The proud smile on his lips never falls as you make your way up his arm, tracing flower petals, the intricate scales of a snake, the billowing clouds that get cut off when his shirt sleeve tightens around his arm too much for you to push up. 
“Why do you hide them?” you question softly, feeling the need to whisper as you continue to analyze the art of his other arm, the continuity of his previous sleeve was missing here, each piece being its individual work of art instead of telling a story, thick lines of traditional flash being easier to trace with your finger. 
Jungkook visibly shivers as you pass his elbow ditch, moving on to the reaper he had on his forearm. “I don’t hide them on purpose,” he mumbles, growing to enjoy the slight ticklish feeling of your fingers on his skin, hoping you continue to admire his tattoos to keep the contact with you. “I only ever wear short sleeve shirts during the summer, or on stage because it gets hot up there. But the weather has been cold lately and I enjoy layering up. I promise I’m not trying to disguise myself.”
That much was true, Jungkook was always wearing hoodies or oversized long sleeves that concealed his arms and considering the tattoo on his neck was barely creeping over his collar it’s not a shock you never noticed it before. 
“Are you sure? Seems like you’re trying to live a double life to me. I kinda dig it tho,” you giggle, smiling when he looks over at you with raised eyebrows, a spark evident in his eyes as he perks up. You’re fiddling with his bracelet now, slowly making your way down to his palms when Jungkook lifts them up and intertwines your fingers together. 
“Oh yeah?” His smile widens when you give his palm a gentle squeeze, the warmth of his skin making your stomach flip as you stare into his eyes. 
“Yeah,” you sigh. “Adorable artist by day, sexy rockstar by night.”
“I’m not a rockstar,” he snorts, his thumb softly rubbing your knuckles. 
“But you agree, you think you’re sexy?” And there it was, the familiar words and confident gaze Jungkook was accustomed to seeing from you. You inch closer, head tilted slightly with a teasing smile on your lips, playfulness written all over your features. 
“I thought I was cute,” he shoots back, eyes crinkling as he recalls all the times you’d call him that, playfully pinching the strands of his hair in class when they’d cover his eyes, muttering the compliment each time he’d smile at you, just loud enough for him to hear and blush at but you had yet to call him sexy until tonight. 
“You’re both, it’s the best of both worlds.”
“I’ll take it,” he laughs, wanting to get even closer to you, scooch his chair over or flip the table out of the way entirely but he decides that's a little too much, content sitting here despite the dropping temperature. The chill of autumn is more noticeable now as you sit here, no longer warmed up by the meal you had earlier, it's evident in the goosebumps that trail up Jungkook’s arms and the shiver you release with a small laugh. 
“Do you live far from here?” It’s an innocent question in theory, exactly the way Jungkook takes it as he shakes his head in response. 
“No, my place is pretty close actually. Do you?”
“I don’t live too far either. If you want, we can walk to mine or take a taxi if you’re too cold.”
“I don’t mind walking you home.” He smiles and you can’t find it in yourself to be upset that he hadn’t caught on to the fact that you were inviting him over. You wanted to spend more time with him, preferably outside of the cold, but the additional minutes spent on your walk would be good enough until you could see him tomorrow morning. 
The innocent question of yours doesn’t fully register as he cleans up the table, not even as you share bites of your cosmic brownie with him before leaving. The gears in Jungkook’s head finally click a few minutes into the walk, hands laced together as you make your way up the sidewalk, making soft conversation. It’s not like he wasn’t well versed with girls, but more often than not he needed a little more straightforwardness to get himself to kick into action. So as you near his block, shoulders brushing together in an attempt to keep warm while you share hushed laughter, Jungkook decides it’s his chance to make a move. 
It’s not until your body shivers and you jokingly say you should have taken a taxi that Jungkook speaks up. “My place is down the street.” He slows his pace, pointing down the road with his thumb when you stare up at him. “Do you want to come over to warm up?”
Your place isn’t much further, and you know that going over to his would only mean you’d be walking home later in even colder weather, but you were not going to turn this down. As Chungha so kindly put it, this is fate, and you don’t fuck with fate. 
Jungkook stares down at you with his top teeth nibbling on his lip, looking a little nervous for asking, hoping he hadn’t come across as sleazy when that wasn’t his intention. But he tries to keep cool, knowing that just because you come in doesn’t mean anything would happen. But what if something did? It makes his skin tingle and his heart hiccup, moreso when your thumb gently rubs against his knuckles, squeezing his palm in reassurance. And then you’re muttering out a response with a sweet smile on your lips, “Sure, I’d love to.”
He hears the giggle you let out as he freezes momentarily, snapping out of it with a smile before turning down the street and leading you towards his place. There's a subtle pep in his step that you take note of, biting back a smile as you hold his hand a little tighter, walking a little faster to get out of the cold as his building approaches. Jungkook doesn’t release your hand as he enters his code, not even as you step into the elevator, riding up to his floor in comfortable silence. He only lets go once you step foot into his actual place, mainly because you start to step away, your curiosity making you want to take his place in. 
It’s a cozy studio apartment, walls covered like a gallery full of different pieces of art mixed in with music posters in differing sizes. His bed is pushed towards the corner by a window, enough space to allow a nightstand on one side and his desk on the other, overflowing with his art supplies. His sketchpad is laid out on it, opened on the drawing of you he had started earlier today, a little more detail on it than before, letting you know he had come home and worked on it some more before going out. 
“Do you want something to drink? I can make coffee, or anything warm.” His voice grabs your attention, turning to see him approaching his kitchen counter, a soft smile on his face as he allows you to snoop. 
“Coffee would be great.” It’s warmer in his apartment, his heater slowly filling up the space to a comfortable temperature, but you could never deny caffeine. 
He occupies himself by filling up the kettle, turning his head to glance over his shoulder and see the way you make your way over to the other corner of his place. He has a full set up in this corner, a record player with speakers on either side placed on top of a storage unit that holds records and CDs, his bass resting on a stand beside it. It’s different from the one he wore on stage, this one was a shade of blue and white with a few stickers placed on the back of it, a little rough around the edges from use, not the shiny black one he had on earlier. When he catches you staring at it he makes his way over to you, watching how your fingers gently trace the neck of it with a smile. 
“This is the first bass I bought as a teenager so I keep it safe here.” 
“So you won’t be smashing this on stage anytime soon then?” you joke, staring back at him with a smirk as you step away from the instrument and move closer to him. 
“I’ll save that for when I’m an actual rockstar, and definitely with a bass that’s not as cherished as that one.”
“Is that what you want to do?” you wonder, curious to know where Jungkook ranked his love for music and being on stage. He was so very clearly gifted with artistic ability, being able to transform simple images on paper into something astounding, but maybe that wasn’t what he actually craved from life. 
“Nah, I don’t think so,” he sighs, his eyes staring at the walls surrounding you, bouncing from the works of art to the bands he had tacked around. “If that's how it plays out I’m not against it because I really do enjoy it, but it's more of a hobby for me. Making a career out of my art is all I’ve ever thought about doing since I was young and my heart has never strayed from it. What about you?”
“I don’t know,” you sigh. “I love art, but I don’t think I’d love it if I had to use it to make money. Maybe if I thought I had more potential with it I’d pursue it more seriously. Until then, I’m okay with filling my units up with art labs, I mean it landed me with you as a partner so I think it's going pretty well.” 
Jungkook doesn’t even try to hide his smile at your words, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck as he laughs softly. His eyes never leave yours as you step closer to him, fingers reaching out to toy with the material of his shirt, tracing the pattern of it before fiddling with the buttons. The beating of his heart is felt in his throat as he swallows, rattling in his chest so loud he wonders if you could hear it, decides to speak to mask it just in case. 
“You have potential,” he chokes out in a whisper, hands clenching at his sides when you slide your palms up, smoothing over his shirt until you reach the collar. A shaky breath is exhaled into the air when your fingers gently touch the tattoo on his neck, finally able to admire it up close, appreciating the detail put into the petals of the chrysanthemum. Jungkook cranes his neck out to give you more space, enjoying the soft touches too much to pull away. 
“Pretty,” you murmur, too lost in your thoughts to realize you had uttered it outloud but Jungkook hears it perfectly thanks to your close proximity and it makes his skin warm up. 
“You’re the one with potential.” You inch back a bit to stare up at him, the earlier effect he had on you long gone now that you were comfortable, your eyes fluttering to each of his before landing on his lips and coming back up. “I’d pay to have any of your art on display at my place.”
“Really?” he wonders, voice quiet but laced with elation at the idea of you thinking his art was worthy of money. 
“Yeah, whatever your favorite thing to draw is, I’d love to put it on my wall.”
Jungkook’s eyes scan your face, following the slope of your nose before landing on your lips, seeing the small smile etched onto them. He’s only ever been quiet and reserved around you, allowing you to have your fun as you teased and flirted with him, but now that you’re in his place, staring up at him with eyes full of want, he feels the confidence brewing up within him. It starts slow at first, slight nerves tingling his skin as he takes a breath, morphing into a simmering heat as he feels a confession settling onto his tongue. 
“You know what my favorite feature of yours to draw is?” It’s a low rasp, a quiet question that leaves you desperate for an answer.
“What?” 
“Your lips,” he mumbles, his hand slowly coming up to cup your jaw gently. His palm is cool against your skin, thumb tracing the bottom of your lower lip, pulling the flesh down before letting it bounce back. “I know you catch me staring at them all the time but I can’t help it.” 
That much was true, Jungkook’s tendency to be caught in a day dream trance was not new to you, sometimes he’d be staring at your legs but more often than not he was transfixed on your lips. “The curve of your cupid’s bow, the way they shine in the light when you wear that pretty lipgloss. I could spend hours trying to perfect them on paper but I don’t think I’d do them justice. You’re a work of art Y/N.” He whispers the last part of it and you feel it deep within you, drying out your throat as you find yourself at a loss for words. Maybe it was a blessing that Jungkook never reciprocated your flirting before because if he ever came at you with these words during class, you’d melt into a puddle and stare at him with googly eyes the entire lesson. 
A small smirk pulls his lips up when he sees how his words have affected you, his half lidded eyes staring down at you in a way you’ve never seen before and it leaves you weak once more. “I wanna know what they taste like,” he breathes out softly, inching closer ever so slightly, his thumb once again tracing your bottom lip. “Can I?”
At his question the kettle sounds off, the bubbling of water and beeping letting you know the water for coffee was done but you’re not ready for him to pull away yet. Your hands tighten around his shirt, urging him to not walk away. You’ve been wanting this to happen since the moment you met him and you’d be damned if coffee would be what ruined it all for you. 
“Kiss me, please.”
Jungkook doesn’t know how many times he’s dreamt of you uttering those words, and now having it become reality, he wastes no time closing the narrow distance between you. His lips are tender against yours, gently pressing into you as his hand remains cradling your jaw, finger softly caressing the skin as you kiss him back. It’s a slow smack of your lips together, pulling back briefly as you stare up at him through hooded eyes, but now that you’ve had a taste you don’t want to pull away again. 
His free hand grips onto your waist as you reconnect your lips, fingers digging into your skin when he senses the urgency flowing off you, your own hands slipping up and around his neck until you’re carding your fingers through his hair. That’s when you hear the first sound from him, a low groan against your mouth that shoots straight to your core, and you want to hear it again. 
It becomes clear that although Jungkook was quiet in day to day life, he was not shy about being vocal in these situations. The hiss he releases as you yank on his hair, the subtle groan into your mouth when he feels your tongue tracing the seam of his lips, to the soft curse words spoken into the air as you bite down on his lower lip and let the flesh snap back. 
“Well,” you mumble, pecking his lips once more as you twirl a strand of his hair around your finger. “How do I taste?”
His hands tighten their grip on you at your words, lips shiny as he slowly licks them over with a slight tilt to his head. “Sweet,” he murmurs, nudging your noses together, his lips ghosting over yours in a teasing touch. “I bet the rest of you is sweet too.”
You choke down a gasp, caught in your throat, not expecting the bold words to come from Jungkook’s mouth or the effect they’d have on you. It makes your stomach flip and your mind spin as you imagine it. “Why don’t you find out?” There’s an underlying challenge lacing your words, urging him to do something about it, to do anything he wanted because you were more than willing, and Jungkook is never the type to back down from a challenge. 
He chuckles softly, kissing you once more as he begins leading you towards his bed a few feet away, the coffee now long forgotten, no longer needed as you warm each other up with roaming hands and shared gasps. You can feel the way his lips curl into a smile against you when you squeal in surprise as his hands grip your waist, lifting you onto his bed properly. The soft sheets are felt against your legs as you slide up, resting against the pillows he has set up against his headboard while he hovers over you. When he pulls away from you he takes a moment to take the scene in, seeing you nestled into his sheets like you belonged there, looking up at him with lust filled eyes and swollen lips.
“God, you have no idea what you do to me,” he groans softly, large palm gently touching your neck and feeling the racing pulse of your heart against his thumb. His knees are slotted in between your own, bunching up the material of your skirt until he can see the small sliver of your red underwear beneath it. With a quiet giggle you’re lifting your leg up, nudging against his thigh until you feel the slowly growing bulge in his jeans.
“Hm, I think I have some idea.” 
His eyes playfully narrow at you, jaw ticking out as he huffs out a teasing laugh, enjoying the way you join in, morphing into a breathless sigh of his name when he kisses down your neck. Your hands meet in his hair once again, scratching at his scalp in a way that makes him shiver against you, distracts him momentarily as he licks and nips at your sensitive skin. 
The turn of events that lead to this moment is not what he expected, ever, so as his hands reach the hem of your shirt, he hesitates for a moment. You notice it when his lips pause their downward descent, craning your head back slightly to see the unsure look on his eyes. But you want this, so your hands pull away from his hair and meet his on your stomach, slowly pulling your shirt up for him and smiling when he looks up at you with curious eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Jungkook. I’m sure.”
That reassurance was all he needed to kick back into action, pulling your shirt off of you and revealing the matching red bra you had underneath, the swells of your chest rising and falling with each breath as you lay there and let him admire you. You bite down on your lower lip while you lift yourself up slightly, gripping his own shirt and slowly tugging it up until he got the hint and helped you yank it off fully, revealing his golden skin and a mixture of more tattoos you had never seen before. Your fingers curl around his ribs as you marvel at the rich black shading the large moth across his sternum, following the curve of its wings before moving on to the following pieces in similar styles.
“I think you’re the work of art here Jungkook,” you sigh, leaning forward to kiss his skin, smiling against it when he rakes his fingers through your hair at the action. Your hands fall to the buckle of his belt, fiddling with the metal until you’re able to undo it, his button and zipper following suit and he laughs at your eagerness. 
“Wanna make you feel good.” His cock jumps at your statement, pushing against the denim and you feel it beneath your palm, looking up at him with a teasing smirk. “Can I?” you repeat his question from earlier, batting your eyes at him as if you weren’t asking for permission to do something sinful.
“Hm, I still want to get a proper taste of you first babe.” Still, he allows you to tug his jeans down, helping you slide them off his thighs until he’s left in his black briefs, kneeling in front of you with a cocky smile on his lips when he sees the way you focus on his cock tenting the fabric. “Lean back for me.”
He doesn’t need to tell you twice, settling back onto the pillows once more as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your skirt, pulling the flimsy article of clothing off of you entirely, groaning under his breath when he spots the small wet patch on the front of your thong. His mind was currently whirling at the visual, only worsening when you reach behind yourself to unhook your bra, the straps sliding off your arms as you slowly peel it off and let it drop onto the floor beside the bed. Any teasing comment you were about to say gets swallowed down with a kiss as he closes the distance, large palm sliding up your torso until he has a handful of your tits in them, giving them a squeeze that leaves you moaning into his mouth.
“Ah, Jungkook,” you whine out when his fingers pinch your nipple, gently tugging at the hardened bud. He smirks against your skin as he trails kisses down your neck, messy smacks of his lips as he passes your collar bone and slides further down your body, his warm breath fanning across your other breast.
“Sensitive?” he teases, cocking up an eyebrow at you before he’s kissing around your neglected nipple until finally wrapping his lips around it and humming. The warmth of his mouth makes you keen, jutting your chest forward for more as you place your palm over his head, groaning when he pops off and flicks his tongue across the pebbled nub. “Are you this sensitive anywhere else?”
“M-maybe,” you gasp, looking down at him as he continues down your torso. He was your living wet dream, from the charming smile on his lips when you stare at him dazed, to the way his fingers dig into your thighs to pull you further down the bed, you want to remember this moment forever. 
He’s just the right mix of rough and loving, fingers kneading your flesh after he slides your soaked panties off, groaning at the sight of your sodden folds on display for him, dripping and begging for him to get a taste. Jungkook settles between your thighs, staring at your pussy with lust filled eyes, it catches you by surprise when he leans forward and presses a firm kiss against your bundle of nerves, chuckling slightly when you gasp as the feeling. 
“I think you are,” he teases, slowly flicking the top of his tongue across your clit, reveling in the shuddering breath you release as your back relaxes against the bed. His hands slowly rub against your thighs as he takes his time, wanting to get to know every inch of you from this perspective. The way you roll your hips up for more, how your hands glide down your own body to tangle into his hair, the breathless moans of his name; he wants to store this memory under lock and key in his brain forever. 
Jungkook hums against your folds, loving the taste of you on his tongue, heart fluttering when your hand releases his hair to lace your hand with his as you moan at the pleasure. 
“Wanna leave you messy,” he mumbles as he pulls away, lips shiny with your arousal, glistening in the light of his room. A curious hum escapes your lips as you lift your head to stare at him, seeing his free hand spreading your lips apart before he’s spitting onto them, smirking when you gasp at the lewd action. The contrast of his spit on your warm skin sends a tingle up your spine, mouth dropping in awe when he digs back in, eating you out with more determination. 
His nose presses against your skin as he sucks on your clit, finding the perfect rhythm that leaves you mewling on his sheets. He smirks against you when your fingers tighten around his hand, eyes looking up at you, focused on the way your boobs jiggle as you pant from his ministrations. He can feel the way his chin gets wet as another gush of arousal spills out of you and when his finger comes up to circle your entrance he lets out a satisfied sound as the slick coats his digit. With no resistance, his fingers slip into you, the warmth of your walls wrapping around him as he slowly pumps his fingers, leaving him softly rutting into the sheets as he imagines how you’ll feel wrapped around his cock. 
The waves of pleasure wash over you quickly, rolling in with each tantalizing flick of his tongue and when he adds a second finger into the mix the delicious stretch fills you with excitement. The tips of his fingers curve up just right, nudging against the rough patch inside of you until you’re gasping again. A deep groan vibrates against your skin when your walls tighten around his fingers as he adds a third, your body eagerly inviting him in as you arch your back at the sensation. Jungkook takes great enjoyment in watching you fall apart, feeling you melt at his touch, that much is made clear as he moans like he was the one being pleasured, and it further fuels your approaching climax.
“Gonna cum,” you choke out, gasping as you stare down at him between your legs. Maybe it was because you’ve been wanting this—or some version of it—for so long but you can’t find it in yourself to feel embarrassed by how quickly he was able to break you down into a whimpering mess with his mouth. 
Jungkook’s finger’s quicken up their pace at your words, determination set in his brows as he pulls back, lips shiny as he smirks up at you. “C’mon, be a good girl and let me taste you.” The way he says it, eyes piercing into you as he latches back onto your clit, it makes your eyes roll back into your skull, the wet squelch of his fingers pumping into you mixing with the sinful sounds of your desperate moans. You’d never expect those words to come tumbling out of him, the need to do as he asks taking over, wanting to be as good as he says, and how could you ever deny him? 
A shout of his name is all you can say before you’re cumming, a flash of white displayed against your lids as you squeeze your eyes shut, hips unable to wiggle away from him when he pins you down with your connected hands, forcing you to ride out your orgasm completely until you’re whimpering and gasping on the bed. 
“So sweet,” he mumbles, pulling away from your messy folds with a look of awe on his face. His eyes are still focused on his fingers lazily pumping into you, admiring the way they shine with your slick coating them, feeling the pulsing of your sensitive walls around him as he gives your pussy a final lick before slowly crawling up your trembling body to stare down at you. “Have a taste.”
His wet lips reconnect with yours instantly, slowly creeping his tongue into your mouth while you hum in surprise, moaning into it as his tongue tangles with yours, passing the lingering taste in his mouth to you in an intimate display that left your sensitive core aching for more. Without pulling apart, your hands trail up his sides, gliding across his skin before venturing down his front. You can feel the way his muscles tense at the ticklish sensation, your fingertips ghosting across his skin until you’re toying with the hem of his briefs before slowly slipping your palm inside. He grunts against you, finally pulling away with a pant just as you wrap your hand around his length, thick and heavy in your palm while you slide it up, feeling the oozing beads of precum coating your skin as you circle his head with the flat of your thumb. 
“Wanna taste you too,” you mumble, still breathless from it all but the flicker of excitement is evident in you as you begin kissing his jaw, down his neck to suck a small blossom of purple into his skin. The ache makes him hiss, eyes fluttering shut when your palm squeezes around him slightly as you slide up. 
“Fuck,” he groans. “Y-yeah, okay.”
His agreement is all you need to pull your hands out of his briefs, pressing them flat against his chest to flip him over, letting him rest his back onto the pillows against the headboard as you settle between his thighs with hunger swirling in your eyes. Jungkook looks pretty like this, strands of his hair framing his face as he stares at you, head tilted with a small smile tugging at his lips while he contemplates your next move. His head falls back slightly as you let your hands trail down his skin once more, feeling the twitch of his stomach when you run your finger along his length over the material of his briefs. There’s clear enjoyment on his face as he allows you to take your time because it gives him a chance to admire you, to see the way your eyes widen slightly when you finally tug down his underwear, his cock springing out at no longer being restrained.
“Of course you have a big dick,” you huff, tip of your tongue running along the bottom of your teeth while you take it in. The prominent veins trailing up the body of it only accentuate his size, guiding your eyes up to the bulbous pink tip, pearls of precum dripping and begging for your attention.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he laughs out, biting down on his lower lips when you lift your palm up to your mouth and spit into it.
“It means,” you start, reaching forward with your messy hand and wrapping it around his base. “That you’re the perfect package, so why wouldn’t you have the perfect cock?” If Jungkook had a response to that, it dies in his throat the minute you start pumping his length, the slick of your saliva aiding the glide. Jungkook’s hands fist the sheets beside him when your thumb rubs the underside of his cock, jaw dropping open in a gasp while you lean forward in your kneeled position, mouth just inches away from his head. The warmth of your breath tickles his skin, a tender kiss pressed to his mushroom tip before you’re slowly opening up your lips and taking him in.
“S-shit,” he rasps, fighting the urge to thrust up into your mouth as your tongue curves underneath his cock, sliding deeper into your mouth. You repeat the motion, sliding down a bit before coming back up, collecting enough spit in your mouth to coat his length each time until it was pooling around the base of his cock, dripping down the side and leaving it as messy as he had left you earlier.
“Feel good?” you breathe as you pop off his length, giving him a sinful smile while your hands continue their movements, twisting in tandem in the perfect rhythm that left him feeling like he was floating. 
“Yeah, so good.” You feel the spark of pride in your chest when his voice trembles, leaning back over to wrap your lips around his tip only, giving it your undivided attention while your palm tightens its grip slightly. His thighs tense on either side of you as he slowly ruts up, no longer able to fight back his urges when you were making him feel this good. He groans at the visual in front of him, the slurps of your mouth sucking him in, how your lashes flutter while you sink down onto his length, the mess of drool on your chin and before he knows it he’s lifting a hand up and coming to place it behind your head. There’s no pressure behind it, simply his fingers resting on your hair, but you can feel the temptation he has by the way his fingertips briefly tighten around your strands. With a flicker of your gaze, you’re staring up at him through your lashes, giving him a quick nod with a mouthful of his cock as confirmation for him to do what he wanted.
Jungkook lets out a shuttered breath as his fingers grip your hair with confidence, yanking at it slightly and smirking when you hum around his length at the sting to your scalp. Your hand falls from his cock, settling over his thigh to let him have full control, taking in a slow breath when you feel him begin to push you down. He takes in every sensation, the pull of your lips pulled taut around him, the glide of your tongue alongside him, the way your nails dig into his thigh just as his tip nudges your throat, your muscles spasming around him for a moment before he’s pulling you off and allowing you to gasp in a wet breath. There’s a smirk on your lips that lets him know you enjoy it, the slow simmer he feels inside spreading when you allow him to do it again, and again, enjoying the messy way you choke on his cock too much to stop.
“God,” he groans out, thick with desire. “Who knew all it would take to have you acting like this was me on stage showing off my tattoos.” The confidence at the change of it all was swirling within him, never imagining the same eyes that would stare at him until his cheeks were red would be looking up at him full of tears while you gave him a blowjob. Seeing you so pliant in his grasp, the fiery, flirty version of you broken apart to reveal this image, it makes him chuckle darkly at how clear it is that the both of you were hiding aspects of yourself without knowing it.
His hands pull you off his cock when he starts to feel his orgasm beginning to spark inside of him, not wanting to cum in your mouth before he gets to feel your walls around his cock. Your lips are swollen and shiny as you sit back up, biting down on your lower lip as you rest your palms on either side of his hips and lean closer to his face. “Honestly, even with your cute turtleneck you could do whatever you wanted to me.” Your lips ghost over his own as you speak, breathing out a laugh as he leans forward in an attempt to kiss you, missing you when you inch back.
“Oh yeah?” he chuckles, his hand coming up to cup behind your neck, not letting you inch away before his lips are pressing against yours. It’s messy, the drool on your lips coating his own but he loves it anyway, groaning when you slip your lips open and lick your way into his mouth. Jungkook was only teasing, he knew your crush on him wasn’t purely based on the version you’re seeing tonight, having seen first hand how much you’d compliment him when he showed up to class in new glasses or told him how cute his smile was on a daily, but he can’t lie and say he doesn’t enjoy the slight flustered way you had behaved tonight.
“I can do whatever I want?” he wonders, pulling away and staring at you with hooded eyes, thumb rubbing along your jaw as he loosens his hold on your neck.
“Mhm,” you confirm sweetly, squealing when he suddenly flips you both over, the pillows cushioning your head while you stare up at Jungkook hovering over you. His dark hair hangs beside his face, nose scrunched up cutely at your giggle, eyes sparkling with mischief and desire so strong it makes your tummy flip. 
“Can I fuck you?” he questions softly, eyes flicking down to your lips and back up. His cock rests on your folds, slowly sliding against them as he ruts into you, lips pulling into a smirk when you groan at the sensation. Your fingers grip his sides when the head of his cock nudges against your swollen clit, hips rolling up to meet his thrusts, nodding with a small gasp. “No, baby. I need words.”
Shutting your eyes briefly, you try to calm your racing mind with a slow breath, opening them back up to stare directly at him. “Fuck me Jungkook, please.” He savors the words after you say them, breathing out a sigh when you lift your head up slightly to press a tender kiss to his lips. “I want it.”
A groan fills the air, fingers digging into his skin when he speeds up his thrusts, grinding against you with a tiny curse uttered under his breath before he’s pulling away. His body leans across to the side, scrambling over you to reach his nightstand in the corner, yanking the drawer open to pull out a small foil packet, biting the corner of it as he resituates himself over you with a boyish smile. You giggle at his obvious enthusiasm, biting down on your lower lip while you watch him tear the condom wrapper open, eyes falling onto his cock when he slowly fists it before rolling it on. Jungkook takes his time as he does so, eyes looking up at you with a smirk etched onto his lips, sighing softly as his hands meet the base of his cock. 
“Ready?” he breathes out, hands settling beside you as he leans over your body, nudging your noses together with a shared smile. When you nod, mumbling out a confirmation, he leads his length towards your dripping center, feeling the tight ring of muscle as he slowly inches forward. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sensation, palms gliding across his back as the head of his cock breaches your entrance. The slight stretch in the beginning sends a shock of excitement through you, moaning slightly when he pushes in further, sliding in with ease from how wet you are. 
Jungkook feels like he’s on cloud nine right now, the warmth of your walls enveloping him perfectly, tightening around him each time you’d gasp when he’d get deeper inside of you. His jaw is slack as he takes it all in, letting out a small groan of your name when he finally bottoms out, nuzzled deep within you, and he swears his body trembles slightly when he takes a glance between your bodies, seeing the way you’re connected now. Somehow you want him impossibly closer, hooking your legs around his slim waist to keep him close before he even has a chance to move, adjusting to his size as your walls flutter around him. 
“Fuck,” you shudder, mouthing kisses down his jaw to bring him back to reality. “Feel so full.” There’s a slight slur to your voice now, heady with pleasure, drunk off Jungkook entirely and it fills him with a sense of pride to hear you sound so needy for him like this. The groan he releases vibrates his throat as you kiss it, wet smacks to his warming skin that just make it harder for him to unscramble the words in his brain, and when your lips ghost over the earlier hickey you painted onto his skin his hips have a mind of their own and inch back, thrusting into you suddenly. A gasp hits his skin at the motion, your fingernails pressing into his back as he repeats it once more, pulling out a little more each time until he is slowly rocking into you.
“Tell me,” he pants, his finger tapping the bottom of your chin to get you to look up at him. “How do you want it?” His brow is cocked up in question, lips shining back as he runs his tongue along them. “Soft and slow?” His thrusts match his words, fucking into you sensually, reaching deep within you, his cock nudging against the best part inside of you until you were gasping. It makes you cling onto him tightly, feeling each deliberate roll of his hips, a slow heat of comfort and pleasure spreading through you until your skin is tingling at his touch. 
“Or rough and messy?” You have no time for the words to settle in your mind before he’s changing up the tempo, rearing his hips back before thrusting forward, skin smacking together and filling up his room. A strained moan leaves your lips, quickly swallowed down by a kiss as he closes the small distance between you, each gasp of yours fueling his hips until he’s fluidly pistoning into you. His cock fills you up deliciously, stretching you out until your walls are molding around him as if he belonged there. Each rough rock forward has him hitting your patch of nerves perfectly, cock curving just right inside of you, turning your thoughts into mush, every single cell in your body screaming for more.
“Like this,” you choke out, pulling apart with a wet smack, a string of saliva breaking between you. “God, just like this.” Your head is thrown back now and Jungkook takes full advantage to even out the playing field and give you a hickey of your own. The second his lips press into your neck your hand is coming to tangle into his hair, groaning softly as he nips and sucks your tender flesh. Your walls tighten around him at the new stimulation, your warmth sucking him back in with each thrust, greedy for more and he gives you exactly what you want. He hums against your neck when he feels another gush of your arousal drip out of you, coating your thighs, the wet squelch of your pussy soaking his cock getting louder, blending in with your soft cries in a perfect mix.
“Dirty girl,” he groans out, tip of his tongue flicking against the purple splotch beneath your ear, enjoying the way you shudder at the ticklish feeling. His hand fists the sheet beside you as he speeds up, balls smacking into you each time from the force, his eyes falling onto your tits to admire them as they jiggle with each thrust. His other hand comes up to squeeze your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers until your back is arching up, the small jolt of pleasure spreading through like a shock of electricity. 
“You like getting fucked like this?” he questions, knowing the answer very well by the look on your face. Your eyes are dazed as you stare at him, brows pinched together into a beautiful scowl while he continues his rough pace, tightening your legs around him and rolling your hips up in time. 
“Mm, want it harder.” There’s slight humor laced in your voice as you bite down on your bottom lip, feeling the skip in your heart as he narrows his eyes at you playfully, tongue prodding at his cheek like he did earlier as he shakes his head in thought. 
“Oh, you want it harder?” he teases, his hips coming to a complete stop before he’s pulling out entirely. You don’t have time to complain over the sudden empty feeling, his large hands gripping your hips so tightly it dimples the skin, flipping you over with ease onto your front. Jungkook chuckles as you turn your head around to stare at him, feeling his hands scoop under you to haul you up onto your hands and knees properly. 
“I can fuck you harder, pretty girl.” A mirth smile is on his lips while he kneels behind you, knees pushing your legs further apart, palm coming down to glide up your back until he’s pressing down to bend you over fully. Your mind’s spinning at the gentle pet name he had called you, heart warming in your chest in an adorable way that doesn’t match the raunchy events transpiring, but you bask in it for a second, coming out of it when your chest presses into his sheets. His palm doesn’t ease up until your hands are planted beside your head, cheek pressed to the side.
The sheets rustle as you tighten your hold on them, letting out a stuttering breath when you try to calm your racing heart at the tone he had used. Your skin breaks out into goosebumps as he trails his hand back down your body, over the curve of your waist, down to your butt where he softly palms your flesh. A small groan fills the air when his hands slip down to your thighs, feeling the mess coating your skin, showing him just how much you want him. With bated breath, he fists his cock once more, leading it to your heat and sliding in with a smooth thrust, the wet squelch blending in with your raspy moan when you feel how much deeper he reaches you in this position. 
“Shit, Jungkook—ah.” He gives you exactly what you asked for, large hands gripping your hips tightly to prevent you from going anywhere, hips thrusting into you with enough force to make his bed frame rattle, but his eyes were glued to the visual of his cock splitting you open. His jaw clenches slightly as he focuses on the bounce of your ass each time he rocked forward, the resounding smack of skin filling up his room. Jungkook can’t hold back the moan of your name when he spots how you’re creaming his cock, adding more mess to all of it, but this is what you wanted, rough and messy, so he’s keeping his word. 
“How’s that for harder?” he drawls out, tongue coming out to swipe at his lip, feeling the way your thighs tremble against his own. 
Words leave your mind for a minute, the speed of his thrusts turning you into jello as he pounds into you, the feeling of his cock robbing you of your voice. Jungkook can see his effect on you easily, scooping an arm under your hips to hold you steady when your form starts to falter, and you squeal as he lifts you up, angling your hips higher, tip of his cock nudging different parts inside of you that made your walls tighten around him. 
“You feel so good Kook,” you whine out, knuckles turning white as you tighten your hold on his sheets, wrinkling them in your gasp. Your cheek is smushed into the bed but he can make out your words just fine, the neediness laced into each syllable makes him want to give you more, sliding the hand around your hips to meet your sensitive clit. Your reaction is immediate, gasping lewdly as his calloused finger finds your swollen nub, rubbing circles in time with his thrusts and smirking when your hips twitch in his grasp. 
“Yeah?” he rasps, never slowing his pace, his own stomach tightening when he feels the way your walls flutter around him. “Am I gonna ruin you for everyone else? Make you dream about me fucking you like this?”
His words have their desired effect on you, crying out as you start to rut back onto him, your desperation to cum growing inside if you, striking a match within you until a steady fire is spreading. From Jungkook’s perspective, desperation looks good on you, leaves your skin sweaty and glowing in the light, makes your voice breathy as you moan out his name like a mantra, eyes screwed shut as you crumble into the sheets with his hand holding you up. 
“Yes, fuck. I’m only gonna want you, j-just you.” Your confession makes his chest tighten, his own pleasure crawling up his spine, sparking up every nerve ending, making his brain foggy until all he can think about is you you you. 
“Me too, pretty girl,” he groans out, speeding up the flick of his fingers, fucking you with more urgency to send you both over the edge. Your body tenses up as you focus on the pleasure, mouth opening up in a silent gasp as the feeling overwhelms you, pushing you over with a final flick that sends you shuddering beneath him as you cum for a second time tonight. 
Jungkook marvels at the way your body reacts to him, hips twitching in his grasp as you lift your face up from the sheets to gasp in a breath when his pace never slows, seeking out his own pleasure as it floods his system. 
“Fuck, fuck—“ he chants, raspy and trembling. The tingles of oversensitivity flare up inside of you but you bask in it, mewling softly under your breath as he surges deeper into your pulsing walls and cums with a raspy groan of your name. His heavy breathing fills the air, hips pressed flush against you, and you’re expecting him to pull out but he seems to have other plans in store. A choked moan is ripped out of you as his fingers come back to life, sliding up your sodden folds and enjoying the way you tremble under his touch. 
Jungkook leans over your weak form until his lips are pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder, feeling the warmth of your skin. The tenderness of his kiss doesn’t match the quick figure eights he rubs into your clit, thighs shaking as you debate running from the sharp pleasure. 
“You wanted it messy baby, make me messy again.” His words go straight to your core, stomach hiccuping as you gasp and moan, the overwhelming pleasure building up until you have no choice but to take it. Jungkook continues to press soft kisses to your skin as he praises you, a final flick of his fingers is what breaks the dam as you cum a final time. He groans against your skin when your walls clamp around him, arousal gushing out of you and coating his dick, dripping down your thighs until his sheets are messy from it all. Only then does he pull out. “Good girl.”
He slowly helps you lower yourself onto his bed, choosing to lick his fingers clean before he’s disposing of the condom and coming back to your defeated body on his sheets. “C’mon, let's get you cleaned up.” His voice is soft now, a gentle smile on his face that you see as he flips you over, fingers soothing your skin. 
“You can’t do that,” you scoff, finger coming up to prod at his chest. 
“Do what?”
“Fucking destroy me and then act all cute.” That earns you a laugh from him, nose scrunching up in that way you always love and it makes your heart flutter in your chest. 
“Yes I can,” he argues, slowly hauling you up to sit. “Do you want to use my shower?”
You hum under your breath, distracted for a moment as your eyes focus on the ink on his skin once more. You could use a shower, but having to walk home in this weather with wet hair was asking to get yourself sick. “I can shower at my place.”
Jungkook’s eyes look away from you instantly, pushing away the slightly dejected feeling that settles into his stomach and forcing himself to speak properly. Why was it so easy for him to talk your ear off while buried inside of you but his mind can’t formulate a sentence to invite you to stay. With a small clear of his throat, his eyes find yours again, uncertainty swirling in them as he speaks, “You can stay the night…I’d like it if you stayed the night.”
Your hands come up to cup his cheeks as you smile, that funny feeling in your chest spreading and making you feel giddy as you stare at him. “Well, if that’s what you’d like, I’m staying.”
Jungkook allows you to shower first, taking his time to finish up the coffee he promised you earlier as well as leaving some clothes for you to sleep in once you come out, also taking the liberty to swap his bed sheets because his current ones would need to be cleaned. It feels domestic to be bundled up in his clothing, sipping coffee in his bedroom while you admire more of the art on his walls, hearing him in the shower a few feet away. 
When he finally emerges from the bathroom, you do a double take, seeing him exiting with a long sleeve and sweats, brown hair falling over his forehead and his signature frames back onto his face. It was a softer looking version of the man that had walked in, but as he rolls up the sleeves of his pullover, the black ink meeting your eyes once more, it blends the two versions perfectly. 
“What?” he wonders when he catches your gaze, charming smile on his lips as he settles onto his bed a few feet away from you. 
“Nothing, you’re just cute.” His cheeks tint at your compliment, trying to brush it off with a smile as he pats the spot beside him to beckon you over. 
“You’re cuter,” he counters, snickering as you settle onto the bed, placing your mug on the coaster resting on his nightstand. 
“Hm, what was it again? I’m your pretty girl?” Not an ounce of embarrassment lays in him as he nods along, finger coming up to playfully tap at your chin. 
“You liked that huh?” 
“I did,” you confirm, smiling up at him as he inches closer. You beat him to the punch, swooping in and pressing your lips together sweetly, giggling as he makes a small noise of surprise. 
“I’ll make sure to say it more often.” It makes heat spread through you, having to ebb away your thoughts as he pushes down his sheets, a knowing smile on his lips when you look away from him. Jungkook chuckles under his breath when you finally join him under the sheets, his arm hooking around you to bring you close to his side. You get comfortable quickly, nuzzling into his chest as you throw your arm around his waist, hearing the slow beating of his heart. 
His body moves slightly as he brings up the blankets, his head looking down at you and smiling at the content look on your face. “I know this is totally backwards,” he starts, licking his lips over when you peer up at him with curious eyes. “But I’d really like to take you on a date. A proper one, that doesn’t involve you getting chased by the campus goose beforehand.”
“Really?” You can’t lie and say you weren’t hoping that this is what it would lead to, not wanting this to just be a one off hook up that would either make your relationship in class awkward or limit this to being the extent of your relationship. Jungkook had reeled you in the second you spoke to him on the first day of class, his polite demeanor and gentle compliments making it easy for you to picture what he would be like as a potential boyfriend. Tie that in with the way he was able to turn you into a stuttering mess with his fingers earlier tonight and that was all you needed to know he was the perfect package for you. 
“Yeah, we can go out for breakfast tomorrow before we finish our drawings? Or, I can take you to this really cool art shop a few blocks away. There's also this really pretty cafe that has themed drinks I think you’d like. And—“ his rambling is cut short as you squish his cheeks and bring his face down to plant another kiss on his lips. Jungkook finally releases a breath as you kiss him, eyes fluttering shut while his mind slows down and focuses on the gentle smacks of your lips together. 
“Yes,” you mumble against his mouth, lips curved up into a smile. 
“Yes to what?” he wonders, kissing you once again because he can’t get enough. 
“All of it. I’ll go anywhere with you.” You feel his heart race pick up against your palm, the smile on his face letting you know it’s not from nerves. Jungkook’s mind begins to whirl again with ideas, wanting to come up with something perfect, something worthy enough to show you just how he felt, and as he starts to speak them out loud once more, you can’t help but feel just as giddy.
Promises of taking you to see his band again, making you an art piece for you to hang on your wall, teaching you any song you want to learn on bass, are spoken into existence and you agree to all of it. The sparkle in his eyes makes your heart melt as you lean forward and kiss him once more, your cheek nudging his glasses while his palm comes up to cup your face. 
“I know how I wanna draw you for my project,” you murmur against his lips. 
“How?”
You pull back and turn to face the corner of his room, making two L shapes with your fingers and holding them close like a frame as you point to his bass. “With your cherished bass of course.”
He chuckles, arms wrapping around your waist to bring you closer as he kisses your cheek. “Yeah? I’ll even pose shirtless for you if you’d like.”
“Oh, don’t threaten me with a good time,” you laugh, tangling your fingers in his hair, feeling the way his body shakes as he joins in with your laughter. As you lay there, feeling Jungkook pressing gentle kisses to your cheek, twirling strands of his hair in your finger while you keep him close, you’re flooded with excitement at whatever he has planned. From this position, your eyes make out his opened sketch pad, the drawing of yourself so clear on the paper, and as that same fluttering feeling takes over your chest, you’ve never been more thankful to have chosen his sweet, geeky self to be your art partner.
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joonscypher · 3 months ago
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Appreciated | KNJ (M)
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✺ Summary: Namjoon is the town’s most brilliant alchemist, but his frantic demeanor has scared off assistant after assistant. He’s never been able to find someone he could trust that could put up with his demands. That is until he finds you. You’re his faithful, oh so patient assistant, that’s been with him for years. When he overhears you getting another job offer one day, Namjoon must do his best to show you just how much he appreciates you and keep you by his side.
✺ Pairing: Alchemist!Namjoon x Witch Female!Reader
✺ Genre/AU: Smut, fluff, supernatural au, coworkers to lovers au, basically porn with a plot 
✺ Rating: 18+
✺ Warnings: Profanity, oral (f receiving), fingering, protected sex
✺ Words: 5k
✺ A/N: Written for the Namkook Moonrise Masquerade event! This was supposed to be a different fic, but then my brain said no this is what you’ll write, so here we are! Thank you to @sugasbabiie​ for the beautiful banner!! And huge thank you to @hobeemin​ for being my wonderful beta!!  💙 
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Running Kim’s Antiques, the town’s first and oldest secret alchemy shop isn’t easy. Namjoon’s father opened it before he was born, and it immediately became a staple in town among the other supernatural population. To the normal, mortal townsfolk, it’s an antique shop offering trinkets and keepsakes from the past. Namjoon can go from selling an old watch from the early 1900s in the morning to selling an intelligence potion to a pixie in the afternoon.
It’s the family business, and Namjoon doesn’t mind. Being in the back of the shop in his workroom, surrounded by his books that spell out every piece of knowledge he needs to know to carry on in his father’s footsteps is his favorite feeling. Even so, no matter how happy he is, he knows he can’t do this alone. He tried to run the shop alone for almost a year, but he soon realized he’d need help. This came in the form of a backorder of potions that he hadn’t organized correctly which made quite a few customers unhappy. He then sought out to bring in a reliable assistant that can help him continue the Kim success.
Of course, that’s easier said than done. Every assistant Namjoon brought in didn’t last long. He’ll admit, he can be erratic, disorganized, and quite clumsy, but he never thought he was that bad until what was probably his fifth assistant in two months walked out on him. They would all criticize the way he runs things and the way he works.
Namjoon is too smart for his own good, and the good of those around him. He tends to start five different orders at one time, then in the middle of it all, he’ll have a breakthrough of some sort, and end up ditching all of his other obligations to focus on that. His previous assistants never knew how to reign him back in or where exactly they can be of help and he was convinced he’d never find the support he needs.
That is until you inquired about the job opening. Namjoon will never forget the smile on your face the first day you stepped into his shop, your eyes taking in the shelves and their contents.
“Hi.” The simple word leaving your mouth is enough to have Namjoon’s heart stopping mid-beat. “I’m here for the job posting - are you still needing an assistant?”
Wordlessly he nods. Given he put the word out amongst the supernatural community only, he tries to guess what exactly you are. He thinks you may be a siren or a succubus with the way that you keep his gaze on you as you approach, but that doesn’t seem right. Lust isn’t the only thing he feels.
As if you know the question in his mind, you reach your hand out to shake and introduce yourself. “I’m Y/n. I’ve been practicing magic my entire life and studying potions since high school.”
“Witch?” He guesses.
“Yep.” You wink at him, and he swears he sees a bit of a magical twinkle in your eye.
“You’re hired.” He yells out, not needing to hear anymore. He’s being selfish and acting on the impulse that is his feelings for you, but he doesn’t care. He wants to see you every day and seeing how you’ve come to seek employment; he’s sure you’ll say yes.
You do, of course. And you quickly prove to be who Namjoon has been missing in his time on Earth. You seem to be ten steps ahead of him at any given time, handing him ingredients he needs for potions or experiments, placing product orders before he even notices stock is low and offering suggestions that always end up positive.
Namjoon isn’t sure how he ever managed to run his business, let alone live without you, but you’ve been by his side for three years, and he falls in love with you as each day goes on. Soulmates was never a word Namjoon used or really thought much about, but getting to know you, your likes and dislikes, your quirks, and all of you, he knows that’s what you are.
To his knowledge, you enjoy working here with him. You’re always content when you come in in the morning and when you go home for the night. You never complain, and you’re always nothing but pleasant to customers. He’s never been under the impression that you want to leave him and the shop.
Suspicion begins to creep into his heart today, though. He’s coming from the back of the shop to ask you about an ingredient in stock when he hears a very familiar voice in the front speaking to you.
“How is Namjoon treating you? He has you up here by yourself, so I can’t imagine very well.” Park Jimin’s voice is calm, but he can still hear the entitlement in the younger alchemist’s tone. His shop is newer and only opened six months ago, but he’s already been in Namjoon’s shop, bragging about his highly successful new business.
Jimin comes from a wealthy family, so he’s used to getting what he wants and believing he’s entitled to everything. Much to Namjoon’s dismay, this includes you. Ever since the first day that Jimin laid his eyes on you, he’s been trying to poach you and have him work for his bakery/magic shop.
No matter what, though, you always turn him away which typically puts Namjoon’s nerves at ease.
“I’m upfront because I want to be, Jimin. And Namjoon is treating me fine.”
“Yeah, but you know I can treat you better. I can pay you so much more than whatever he’s giving.”
“My pay is fine, thank you.”
“Well, the atmosphere is worlds better. My shop is much more modern than this old shack. Plus,, you can eat all the sweets you want.” Namjoon rolls his eyes. His shop is a classic, thank you very much.
“This place is very classic.” Namjoon’s heart skips a beat at the laugh you let out, dismissing Jimin. You always have a knack for being able to read his mind. It’s one of the many things he loves about you.
“You’d be so much more than my assistant in my shop, Y/n. You can work your way to co-owner if you want.” There’s a beat of silence and panic immediately overcomes Namjoon. Wouldn’t you want to just up and leave him, right? He strains to overhear the rest of the conversation.
“Jimin…” you start, and it takes everything in Namjoon’s being not to burst through the wall and get rid of Jimin once and for all.
“I’ll see you soon, Y/n.” Namjoon hears the smugness in his voice and as soon as he hears the bells jingle above the front door of the shop, he rushes back to his workroom, shutting the door behind him.
You’ve never talked in detail about wanting to one day become co-owner, not that Namjoon can remember at least. You’ve mentioned in passing about maybe having a magic shop in the future, but that’s as far as the conversation went. Namjoon has no problem giving you half of his shop - hell he’d give you half of everything he owns if you ask.
Namjoon isn’t one to talk much about his feelings, which he knows is a flaw he needs to work on, but the fear that you don’t feel the way he does grips his throat and keeps him up at night sometimes. He’s never wanted to risk the rejection that could come with admitting this to you, but right now he feels trapped.
He has to tell you everything. Admit that you’re the best assistant he’s ever had and that he’d be nowhere without you in his life. He can’t lose you; the thought alone makes him ill. Namjoon spends the rest of the day wracking his brain on how to show you how he feels if he can’t say it with his words.
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Namjoon continues to ponder what he should do when he overhears you on the phone a few days later as you’re cleaning up at the end of the night. He was coming from his workroom to cash the register out but stops and hid when he heard you answer the call.
“Everything alright, Mina? You never call when I’m working.” He can’t hear what Mina - whom he knows is your roommate - is saying, but he still listens. “What? You made me think there was an emergency…no, I will not go! Mina, I love you, but I don’t have time for any more blind dates…psht, yeah, right! That vampire you set me up with a few weeks ago was a total asshole.”
As stealthily as he can, Namjoon lowers to the floor and crawls to the counter where the register sits, crouching behind it to hear you better from the other side. Does Namjoon have an eavesdropping problem? Maybe. Is he going to stop? No.
“Look, I appreciate you, but you know I like someone else. I don’t really want to date random people I don’t know…hey, leave my sex life out of it! My hand and I are living our best lives together, okay?!” You stop and clear your throat as if checking your tone.
“I love you, but I’m hanging up now. I’ll see you when I get home and you can make fun of me and my sexless lifestyle then.” You huff out a breath and Namjoon frantically scurries away and back around the corner.  He recovers from his panicked state quickly and steps out as normal.
“Who was that?” He asks as nonchalantly as possible, opening the cash register to bag today’s earnings.
“Oh, just Mina. She’s always trying to set me up on blind dates lately.” You laugh, nervousness evident in your tone.
“I see. That’s nice of her.”
“Yeah, she means well, but I’ve told her I’m not interested.”
“Oh, you don’t want to date?”
You let out a laugh and turn away from the shelf you’re organizing. You’re asking a lot of questions, Joon.”
Your usage of his nickname almost makes him lose count of the money in his hand, but he recovers quickly.
“Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosey.” His eyes quickly dart up to you, and he notices you’re walking closer to him.
“It’s okay. To tell you the truth, I like it when you get to know me more. I feel like we don’t talk too casually very often. I know you're my boss, but I’d like to think we’re pretty close?” Your words end in more of a question. Namjoon would love to be more casual with you, but he doesn’t think his heart can take it.
“Y-yeah, we are.” He manages to get out, kicking himself for stuttering.
“Good.” Namjoon has to be damn near delusional in love because he swears the smile you give him has something else behind it.
“Don’t think like such a man!” He chastises himself. He doesn’t mean to read into things, but he can’t help it. And the way that you’re leaning over the counter, with the top two buttons undone and cleavage on display, isn’t helping his thoughts.
It’s when you wink at him before moving away, and back to the shelf, you were just at that he genuinely believes you were flirting with him.
He holds onto this thought for the rest of the week and the way you act around him seems to shift. More touches on his arm, more glimpses of your chest, all seemingly for him.
In the middle of the week, Jimin stops by while you’re out getting lunch. He doesn’t say much to Namjoon, other than to have you call him when you can because the two of you have ‘something to discuss’ with a smirk on his stupid, smug face. Namjoon most certainly does not tell you that Jimin stopped by.
It’s all of these moments that give him the courage to make a move a few days later. You’ve been extra touchy with him all day and it’s driving him insane. Remembering what you said earlier in the week about your lack of sex life on the phone with Mina, Namjoon eyes you up and down while you stand behind the counter in the front of the shop, checking an inventory list.
He takes a deep breath and walks up behind you, getting closer and closer until he’s flush against your back.
“Joon?” You chirp, jumping when your bodies touch. You don’t move from your position and try to turn to look at him. His hands find your hips, making sure you stay in place.
“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop right now.” He says. He waits one second, then two and three, then he hears you whisper out a ‘please don’t stop.’ Taking this invitation, he moves forward, burying his nose in your neck. You always smell amazing and now is no exception, not when he finally gets to be this close to you. He peppers your neck with kisses, his plush lips ever so gently touching your soft skin.
“I never want you to think that you’re not appreciated around here, okay?” He whispers between kisses. “I can’t put into words how important and precious you are to not only the shop but to me. So I want to show you.”
A whimper slips from your lips when his mouth meets a patch of skin near the base of your neck. The sound makes him bolder as he drags his large hands up higher up your body, the fabric of your dress bunching until he gets to your breasts and squeezes.
Another whimper, louder this time, comes from you as his hands squeeze and knead. The number of times Namjoon has made himself cum to even the fluttering thought of getting his hands on you like this is ridiculous. Being here now with you feels like yet another wet dream of his.
The way you grind your ass into his rapidly hardening length brings him back, though, and reminds him that this is very much not a dream and that you are very real. The eager way you cover his hands with yours and make him squeeze harder is real. Your head slotting perfectly in the crook of his neck is real. Your wide, pleading eyes looking up at him are real. This is happening, and he’s going to enjoy every second of you.
Namjoon tries to never look a gift horse in the mouth. His nimble fingers move up to quickly unbutton your dress enough that he can have full access to your bra. It has a front clasp, and he has half a mind to ask if you somehow used your magic to know this would be happening, but he doesn’t.
Your bra is pulled open, letting your breasts spring from the cups freely, and Namjoon groans. All the loose necklines and undone buttons could’ve never prepared for him for how fucking perfect your tits are.
He’s palming your chest again, teeth at your neck this time. You’re so soft and warm and his heart aches for you just as much as his dick does. Fingers tweak your nipples roughly, and he feels you turn into putty in his embrace, your back relaxing as your form sags into him.
“Joon…feels so good,” you pant, looking up at him with those needy eyes again, and he nearly cums in his pants. He notices how desperately you’re rubbing your thighs together, and his want, no his need to taste you rises.
“Turn around,” he says as he’s letting you go and spinning you to look at him. Before you have a chance to say anything else, he grabs you and sits you onto the counter as if you weigh nothing to him.
Namjoon pushes the hem of your knee-length dress up, hiking the fabric up around your waist and out of the way so he can look at what’s underneath and what a sight it is.
Your panties are a pale pink color everywhere except your crotch, where the fabric is dark pink, where your arousal soaks the cloth. Your legs close on instinct, and he notices you biting your lip in embarrassment.
Taking your face in his hands, Namjoon kisses you hard. He puts every word he wants to say to you into the kiss. He tells you he loves you and that without you, life isn’t worth living. The kiss is searing as he makes his passion and lust clear for you. His unbridled lust is curbed momentarily and love fills its place again at your nervous expression.
As your lips move in tandem, you open your mouth and let him slip his tongue in. He leans into you more, kissing you harder to tell you that from the moment he saw you, you held his heart in the palm of his hand and that he’d do anything in this world for you to make you happy. You’re whining into his mouth as you grip his arms, scooting to the edge of the counter, presumably asking for the friction of any kind from him.
Namjoon pulls away, both of you panting and out of breath. He has a small, very fleeting thought wondering whether or not you’re using him for a quick fuck, but he’s decided that he doesn’t care. He’ll take you in any way he can get you, as sad as it sounds.
Wanting to appease you, Namjoon reaches down and grabs hold of your panties. He rolls them down your thighs and off, groaning at the sticky string of arousal that clings to the fabric as he goes. He sinks to his knees, pulling you closer to the edge, so he’s face to crotch with you.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He murmurs as his eyes survey your puffy lips and the glossy sheen that covers them. He momentarily thanks his height for allowing him to quickly achieve this angle, then quite literally, dives face-first between your thighs.
Namjoon buries his face in your pussy, moaning aloud at the warmth. Shamelessly, he inhales, savoring the heady scent of you. He wants nothing more than to bottle this smell and carry it with him whenever he needs a hit and use it to remember you at this moment.
Licking a fat stripe from your perineum to your clit, Namjoon elicits a sound of pleasure from you both. He can confirm, you taste just as divine as you look, even though he didn’t doubt that you would. He takes a breath before delving his tongue inside of you, the taste of you only making him harder. He wastes no time in tongue fucking you, the muscle pistoning in and out of your weeping hole. Namjoon buries his face as far as it can go, his nose bumping your clit with each shift of his face.
“Oh fuck! Namjoon…” you’re moaning above him, various swear words flying out of your mouth in between pleads of his name. This only spurs him on more as he pulls his tongue out and replaces it with two long fingers. His mouth moves up to your clit, to achieve this angle easily and he takes the sensitive bud between his plush lips, sucking hard and making you nearly leap off of the counter.
“Please!” You shriek, hands scrambling for something to grab before you seemingly settle for his soft locks. Namjoon loves knowing that his hair is what you’re tugging on. His face and fingers are the ones you’re fucking as you desperately seek your orgasm. His name is the one you’re chanting over and over again until you’re squealing it as you cum all over his fingers.
Namjoon cleans you up afterward, his tongue teasing you and making patterns on your sensitive skin. He cleans your cum off his fingers next, shoving the digits in his mouth and sighing at the sweet and sour taste. He never wants to taste anything else in his life.
His eyes meet yours before your gaze quickly falls to his erection straining against his slacks.
“This is about you,” he says, hands hovering over his belt. “Do you want me to fuck you?” Of course, he wants you to say yes - but if you say no, he’ll drop it and be more than happy with at least making you cum with his mouth.
“Of course I want you to fuck me. I need it,” you beg, leaning back on your hands to open your legs impossibly wider. Namjoon watches as the mix of his saliva and your already growing arousal glistens under the lights of the shop.
“Shit. Okay, I can do that.” He fumbles with his belt and zipper, sighing in relief at the loss of restriction.
You groan, and Namjoon watches you lick your lips at the sight of his hard cock in all of its dark red veiny glory. He’d be lying if he says it doesn’t make his chest swell with pride at the want in your eyes.
It dawns on him then that he doesn’t have a condom, and when he says this, you wave your hand, and a square packet appears before him. He chuckles because, duh, you’re a witch, and he’s watched you summon lunch and even a jacket before.
Once the condom is on, and he has your thighs around his waist, the head of his cock prods at your sopping entrance, slowly pushing in. You whimper the whole time, being patient as he goes as far as he can.
Namjoon could be struck down by the gods right here, right now, and he wouldn’t care. You’re so warm, so tight, so soft around his dick, even in a condom. He has to pinch himself to stop the animalistic way he wants to pound into you. He waits for you to adjust to his size, not ever wanting to make your time with him anything less than enjoyable.
Biting his lip, he scans your face, taking in the way your eyes are screwed shut and your teeth grit as you welcome the intrusion. Eventually, you meet his gaze, and a small plea for him to move comes out of your mouth, and he doesn’t need to be told twice.
He straightens his stance, pulling you closer to him and the edge of the counter. His hands grip your thighs to hold them open as he pushes his hips forward with a few shallow thrusts. You immediately let out a beautiful moan, your eyes slipping closed at the sensation.
“Joon…” you breathe out. “Faster, please.”
Namjoon has never once told you no, and he isn’t about to start. He begins slamming into you hard; the echoing sound of skin slapping fills the otherwise quiet shop.
Your body jostles with each harsh thrush, and Namjoon can’t help but watch the way your tits bounce with each move of his hips. Everything else around him becomes white noise, and his surroundings seem to fizzle out of focus; the only thing he sees is you. The only things he hears are the pants and mewls of his name coming from you underneath him. The only thing he feels is your soft, burning, hot skin under his fingertips and in the palm of his hand. Nothing matters except you.
“You’re so amazing. So gorgeous,” he blurts, not caring that you can hear him. “I love you so much. I love this pussy so much. I love you.” His teeth dig into his lower lip harder as he stops momentarily to reposition your legs higher, the backs of your knees resting in the crooks of his arms.
He’s pounding into you again then, your shrieks turning into near screams as you dig your nails into your thighs. “N—Namjoon s-so good, fuck!” You call out, your mouth falling open with no sound after that.
Namjoon can feel his balls tightening, and he knows he’s close, but he can’t cum yet, not before you do. Keeping up his bruising pace, he maneuvers one of your legs to rest on his shoulder while bringing his hand down to rub your clit.
You cry out as your eyes roll back. “Don’t stop, p-please don’t stop. I’m s-so fucking close!”
With burning muscles, a bead of sweat that’s been beading at Namjoon’s hairline drips down his temple, and he can see the sheen of sweat coating your skin, but fuck if he’s going to stop.
“Cum for me, beautiful. Cum all over my cock.” He grunts as he uses his thumb to rub your clit, adding more pressure.
Your back bows off of the counter as you let out another yelp of his name, followed by a chorus of  ‘yes, yes, yes.’ Namjoon watches as your body begins to levitate from the counter, and he has to hold onto you tighter. Your new posture changes the angle that he’s pistoning into you at, and within seconds he knows you’re cumming as your body freezes in the air and your walls clamp around his cock like a vice. The feeling almost borders on pain, but he loves it. He cums sometime in the middle of your orgasm, your name tumbling from his lips like a prayer, shockwaves feeling as though they’re coursing through him. His hips begin to stutter as he empties his load into the condom rapidly.
After a few seconds tick by, you slowly descend back down, your body once again draping across the counter. He slowly pulls out of you and leans on his arms next to you on the counter, both of you panting. It’s quiet otherwise as Namjoon tries to gather his thoughts and say something. Luckily, you beat him to it.
“Well, I didn’t expect that.” You rasp, pushing yourself to sit up.
“But it was okay?”
“Are you kidding? I came so hard that I fucking levitated. That was incredible!” You share a chuckle before giving him a curious look. “But, I guess the question is why’d you want to…you know.”
“Fuck you into the air?” He jokes, his nerves cropping back up. “Well, isn’t it obvious?” Namjoon reaches for your hands and pushes the words out. “I meant what I said. I wanted to show you how important you are and how much I appreciate you. I know I don’t do it enough because I’m not good with words, but I need you here with me. I love you.”
“Joon, you’ve never made me feel like you don’t appreciate me. I love this shop, I love interacting with all the people that come in, I love magic, and I mean, I love you.” The last three words of your sentence come out rushed, but Namjoon hears it clear as day.
“You love me too?”
“I mean, yeah, I thought that was obvious. I’m guessing now that this whole thing wasn’t because I’ve been making my feelings clear by throwing myself at you all week?”
Namjoon blinks at you. “Wow, and I thought I was just being creepy by looking at your very open tops.”
You let out a giggle that has his stomach doing flips at the sound of. “No, that was all me on purpose. I’ve liked you almost as long as I’ve worked here, and I tried to muster up the courage to show you finally.”
Speechless, Namjoon shakes his head. The realization of you actually returning his feelings is almost incredulous, considering all of the back and forth he’s gone through about coming clean to you. He voices this to you once he collects himself, deciding to also admit to eavesdropping on your conversations with Jimin and the phone call with Mina.
You scoff in response. “First of all, I’m never going to work for Jimin. Being a co-owner sounds nice, as does being in a bakery every day, but as I said, I love being here. Plus, Jimin’s kind of annoying. No way I could work with him.”
“But you paused when he offered you the job. That’s why I was so worried.”
“Well, if you were looking as well as listening, you would’ve seen the very aggravated look I gave him instead of answering him.”
“Oh.” Namjoon mumbles, leaning his body over the counter again. You hop down from where you’re sitting to stand next to him.
“Hey, I’m not mad about the eavesdropping. I’m a little embarrassed you listened to me yell at Mina for my lack of sex, but I mean, it got us here, didn’t it?”
Sparing a glance over his shoulder, Namjoon sees you smiling at him and is struck yet again by how beautiful you are. He sits up, quickly tucking himself into his pants before reaching forward and grabbing your face.
He kisses you hard but gently, at the same time. Your lips move perfectly together as you place your hands over his on the sides of your head. All the nights Namjoon has dreamt of this moment are nothing compared to this feeling as he’s here with you.
“So,” he pants once you’ve separated for air. “When do you want to be the official co-owner of Kim’s Antiques?”
“What? You don’t have to do that, Joon. What Jimin said-” You attempt to dismiss the thought, but he stops you.
“This isn’t about Jimin. You deserve it for all that you’ve done for me. This place wouldn’t run without you, Y/n. Please own it with me?”
Namjoon watches you consider it momentarily before nodding like crazy and practically jumping into his arms. “Thank you so much, Namjoon. I promise I’ll be the best co-owner ever!”
Chuckling, Namjoon places a kiss on the top of your head. “I believe you.”
“Good, because as much as I love the classic feel of this place, I’ve had a few decorating ideas for a while.”
Kim’s Antiques hasn’t been changed in the 50 years it’s stood where it is. Before he met you, Namjoon could never imagine changing a thing about it, but now, if it’s for you, he’d let you change whatever you wanted. You’re always the perfect assistant to him, so he promises he’ll be the perfect boyfriend to you.
433 notes · View notes
mintkims · 2 months ago
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the jealous kind ・ pjm
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▷ㅤprompt: after catching you flirting with his younger cousin at a family gathering, jimin shows you who you really belong to.
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▷ㅤpairings: park jimin x reader ▷ㅤgenre: established relationship!au, smut ▷ㅤwords: 1.3k words ▷ㅤrating: mature (M) ▷ㅤwarnings: profanity, jealous sex, unprotected sex (cover your stump before you hump), oral (both male and female receiving), hair pulling, edging, unedited.
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bts masterlist
© mintkims 2021. All rights reserved.
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It happened way too fast.
One moment he was yelling about some guy flirting with you, the next moment you were pressed up against the wall with his lips on yours.
"Jimin...?" You gasped when he suddenly pulled away and pushed you to your knees, unbuckling his belt as your gaze fell on the bulge he was sporting. Jimin was usually extremely soft and comforting during sex, praises slipping past his plump lips while he made sure you were taken care of. Aftercare was even more wholesome. So the sudden rough treatment made a flash of excitement run down your spine, the buzz settling at the pit of your stomach.
He slapped your hands away when you reached out to his boxers, impatiently tugging at the material. Your bottom lip jutted out in a pout and his eyes momentarily softened at the sight but then narrowed a second later upon remembering the prior events that had taken place.
He pushed his boxers down, hard cock springing out against his abdomen; the sight making your mouth water.
"Hands behind your back." Jimin hissed, grabbing a fistful of your hair and shoving it in your mouth. The head of his cock hit the back of your throat and made you gag, but instead of pulling out and slowing his movements the way he would normally do, he continued to fuck your throat despite the spasming of your esophagus around his cock.
Your lipstick was smudged and there were tear tracks down your cheeks when he finally did pull out, a string of saliva connecting his cock to your lips.
He clicked his tongue. "So messy."
Grabbing your arm, he pulled you to your feet before picking you up bridal-style into his arms as if you weighed nothing. He kicked your bedroom door open, tossing you onto the bed. Your heart was thundering against your ribcage watching him slowly strip out of his clothes.
Crawling over your disheveled body, his plump lips attached themselves to your neck, sucking and biting the flesh. Your fingers sunk into the linen, gripping the soft cloth while watching him pull the clothes off your body. Placing a soft kiss on your hipbone, he pulled your panties off with his teeth; lustful eyes trained on how they peeled off your wet lips.
Spreading your legs apart to accommodate Jimin's frame, your back arched the second his mouth came in contact with your clit. He moaned against your cunt, nails sinking into the soft flesh of your thighs. A whimper left your lips when he nipped at the sensitive bud, tongue trailing down to your slit and lapping at your essence before moving back up and repeating his movements.
He buried his tongue inside your wet heat with a groan, relishing at the way you gasped and mumbled incoherently.
"Faster... - please." You begged, hips jerking up. "I'm close."
He fastened his movements, pushing two fingers past your folds and curling his digits. Your legs clamped around his head, hands desperately tugging at his hair as you approached your high. The coil at the pit of your stomach was so close to snapping and throwing you into the orgasm you craved for, when Jimin decided to withdraw all movements completely.
"Y-You... what the fuck?!" You hissed, empty walls fluttering around nothing. "Jimin why?"
Your eyes teared up, eyes narrowing angrily at the sight of his smug face. He merely chuckled, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. "What's the rush?"
With a huff, you pushed him over watching in satisfaction as his smirk dropped; jaw slacking when you wrapped your hand around his thick length. You twisted your wrist and pumped it with just the right amount of strength - the way he liked it - enjoying the pretty moans that left his lips.
You leaned forward, tongue flicking out and circling the head of his cock before your lips enclosed the tip. You hollowed your cheeks and repeated the movement, taking more of him into your mouth while your free hand massaged his balls.
"Y/N -" Jimin chocked, thighs clenching as one of his hands enclosed yours. The silver rings got caught in your hair as he bunched up your messy locks, easing your head further down his shaft. "Just like that baby."
Spit dribbled down your chin, coating your fingers and his cock. Jimin groaned at the sensation and jerked his hips, wanting nothing more than to be buried deep in your throat. Glancing down, the first and only thing he could notice was how your glossy eyes looked pretty in the dim lights. He could feel his dick twitch when your pink tongue flicked out and ran over the prominent vein on the underside of his cock.
He could feel his balls tighten with every suck, the sight of your head bobbing to his length driving him over the edge fairly quickly. "W-Wait stop!" He whimpered, reluctantly pulling your mouth off him despite every fiber of his being protesting otherwise. "Not yet."
Instead, his soft fingers trailed down your neck and to your shoulders, pulling you to his chest. You could taste the phantom of yourself in his mouth when his lips met yours in a passionate kiss.
Pushing you into the mattress, Jimin hovered over your body, his caramel skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. His lips were red, pupils blown wide as his hand almost desperately guided his cock to your entrance. Without a warning, he slammed into your wet heat, one arm on the headboard while the other pinned your hip in place.
The much awaited friction against your sensitive walls was thrilling. Head thrown back, a moan left your lips once he had buried himself to the hilt. He started off slow, taking his time to adjust while relishing how tightly your cunt was gripping him.
"Just like that." You hissed, hips jerking and meeting his while he fucked you. The hand that was on your hip dipped lower, caressing the soft skin of your things before grabbing the back of your knee and guiding your leg over his shoulder. From the new position, every drag of his cock against your cunt felt exhilarating.
You weren't religious but for a second you thought you saw the pearly white gates of heaven. Black dots clouded your vision; a shaky moan leaving your lips when Jimin fastened his pace. The room was filled with the noise of skin slapping against skin along with his raspy groans in your ear. The coil at the pit of your stomach was close to snapping; the delicious friction of his cock pounding into you driving you right of the edge. The upward snap of his hips was all it took for you to squirt all over his cock and balls, your juices running down his thighs.
You felt his cock twitch inside your fluttering walls, a shaky moan leaving his plump lips due to the sensation. From the way his thrusts turned sloppy, you realized he too was close to finishing. With a final push, Jimin buried his cock deep inside your cervix, spewing ropes of his cum deep inside your abused hole.
He collapsed on top of you, the weight and warmth of his body comforting. Your arms felt like jelly when you raised them, loosely wrapping them around his shoulders. Jimin nuzzled his nose in the crook of your neck in response.
"I should make you jealous more often if this is how its going to end." You chuckled, voice hoarse.
"So you admit you were flirting with him." He deadpanned, throwing you a dirty look. Your mouth opened to refute his statement when he silenced you with a sweet kiss. "Argue tomorrow. I'm tired."
Rolling your eyes while fighting a smile, you relaxed your body with a sigh, almost immediately falling asleep.
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note: thank you for the wonderful request anon! i hope you enjoyed reading <3
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ladyartemesia · a year ago
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All I Want For Christmas is You
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Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Female Reader
Summary: When Park Jimin is unable to escort his precious sister through the gauntlet of corporate holiday galas, he blackmails his best friend Taehyung into being her chaperone. After all, who better to safeguard his headstrong sibling than a man who would never want her for himself? (She and Tae have spent the better part of a decade mutually disliking each other, and that’s putting it mildly.) Yet, even the best laid plans may go awry at Christmas and Kim Taehyung is about to discover that the girl he never wanted has become a temptation he cannot resist...
Genre: Comedy • Fluff  • Smut
Tropes: Brother’s Best Friend (Reader is Jimin’s Sister) • Enemies-to-Lovers
Collab: This work is part of the Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tropes Collab featuring original holiday themed works by @ppersonna • @xjoonchildx  • @underthejoon • @yeojaa​ • @untaemedqueen • and @snackhobi
Word Count: 17K (I know—I am shocked too honestly)
Rating: Explicit (18+)
Warnings: suggestive photographs • mention of accidentally being hit with a baseball • hints of jealousy and possessiveness • light tit slapping • explicit sexual content • m/f oral sex • consensual unprotected sex (shield it before you yield it y’all) • Viola’s mirror kink makes yet another appearance •
Acknowledgements:
To @ppersonna​ (Lindy) @underthejoon​ (Fal) and @xjoonchildx​ (Ana) you guys are my heart. Your support, willingness to read (and re-read) and give honest feedback made this fic special. Your friendship is my daily dose of awesome. Truly, I love you.
To @untaemedqueen​ (D) all of the above applies to you, but I owe you a little something extra for the LITERAL HOURS you spent in the doc with me. This fic would not be here without you. You kept me moving. You inspired me. You were amazing. Thank you so very much. This story is lovingly dedicated to you. 
To @hobi-gif​ for being the most thorough and incredible beta reader and for having all the important girl chats with me. I think you learned more about my past than you wanted... Either way you made this story better and I am profoundly grateful for the hours of time you spent. I have removed all the Hope-No-No words in your honor. 
To @lemonjoonah​ as always, you knew EXACTLY what I needed to tweak to make this story work. (Gotta pass that Lemon Litmus Test or no dice lol.) My lovely soul twin. You’re a bloomin’ rockstar. 
Please Picture This Taehyung:
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“No.”
“Yes.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Yes. Because you absolutely owe me.”
“Then send me a bill, not your unmanageable harpy of a sister.”
Jimin raised a single unimpressed brow. 
“Kim Taehyung. It was exactly five years ago today that I carried your drunken naked ass two miles in the rain after you set your clothes on fire and sprained your ankle at that Beta Phi party.” He paused dramatically. “Do you remember what you said to me that night? After I deleted several pictures off phones and paid off half the party to keep it out of the papers?”
The man in question shifted uncomfortably.
“That incident is a bit hazy in my memory. I’m not sure I recall—”
“Jiminie—you’re the best and I—I owe… you. I owe you the most, Jiminie. I do—I owe you a favor—one BIG favor—anything you ask… Even though... I actually like being naked. I don’t think we need clothes. We should all be naked. Everyone. Then there would be world peace.”
Taehyung’s jaw dropped. 
“You RECORDED IT?!”
Jimin grinned, sliding his phone back into his pocket.
“Naturally. And I had it all ready to go—just in case you needed extra convincing.” He crossed his arms and fixed his best friend of nearly fifteen years with a triumphant smirk. “I’m calling in that favor today, Taehyung. Now are you a man of your word or not?”
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“He did WHAT?!”
Your mother winced. 
“Jimin was... uncomfortable leaving you alone for the holiday season. He normally accompanies you to the galas but this year—”
“This year I was going to go alone and finally build my reputation as an asset to this family!”
Park Soomin sighed as she watched her daughter pace fiercely around the living room of their luxury suite. 
“No one doubts that you’re an asset, but… in light of recent events...”
Rage and embarrassment flared up in your chest before you could stop them. 
“This is about Milo… isn’t it?”
The silence that greeted your statement was confirmation enough. 
“Are you ever going to trust me again?” you whispered. 
“Oh sweetheart... it isn’t you we don’t trust...”
Tears burned at the corner of your eyes, but you ruthlessly blinked them back. 
You would play along with their humiliating schemes. 
For now.
“So which one of Jimin’s Ivy League brat pack did he blackmail into babysitting me? 
For the first time in the entirety of the conversation, your mother looked truly nervous. 
“Kim Taehyung.”
You tripped over your own feet and face-planted into the sofa. 
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“Jungkook, I need to look into faking my own death. Nothing too over the top. Just a tasteful disappearance—”
The man in question could barely restrain his grin. 
“You don’t pay me nearly enough to deal with your mother in the event of your tragic demise and miraculous resurrection.”
“I could pay you more.”
“Or,” Jungkook replied with a heavy dose of judgment coloring his tone, “you could put on this ridiculous tie and stop trying to weasel out of it.”
“Sometimes I wonder why I pay you at all,” Taehyung growled, yanking the tie from the younger man’s grasp. “Clearly I’m not the one in charge.”
“Your words, sir, not mine. Now shall we go over the details and itinerary?”
If Jeon Jungkook wasn’t the best executive aide in the city (and one of his closest friends) Tae would have drop-kicked him right then and there.
“Could you at least try to look like you’re not enjoying this?”
“I’m sorry, sir. It was insensitive of me to ignore your suffering in this delicate time. The trauma of escorting a beautiful woman to a series of glorified buffets weighs heavily upon you.”
Taehyung tightened the tie so aggressively, he almost strangled himself.
“Beautiful woman?!” he wheezed. “We’re talking about the girl who showed up to our formal graduation party looking like she just escaped from Azkaban.”
Jungkook bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. 
“Tae… how long has it been since you’ve actually seen Ms. Park?” 
“Seen? Maybe three—four years.”
The heir-apparent of Kim Holdings avoided the public end of corporate culture like the plague, preferring to leave the requisite schmoozing to his personable cousin, Kim Seokjin. 
However, he had crossed paths with his adolescent nemesis in... other ways. 
Taehyung was romancing a lovely young socialite who suddenly ghosted him after someone told her that he wanted at least eight naturally-birthed children. 
Soon after, your favorite charity received an anonymous 30,000 dollar donation requesting that you be featured in the dunk tank for an upcoming benefit carnival and then the same anonymous patron paid for at least fifteen little league teams to attend. 
In retaliation, someone petitioned the National Aviary Society (chaired by a very influential senator’s wife that no one ever refused if they wanted their permits to go through) to make Taehyung the MC at their annual awards ceremony—knowing full well he was allergic to birds (not dangerously allergic—just enough to be miserable).  
Taehyung had sniffled and sneezed through approximately one hundred parrots, parakeets, and other assorted fowl until he was ready to commit murder. 
The last several years had been littered with similar incidents of the two of you taking thinly veiled potshots at one another. 
“I can’t imagine she’s changed very much,” Taehyung bit off absently. His mind was abruptly consumed by how he could get revenge for those demonic birds. 
He didn’t notice the smile creeping over Jungkook’s face. 
“No, sir. I’m sure she hasn’t changed at all.”
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Taehyung had only ever had the wind knocked out of him once before. 
He was Dionysia High School’s star pitcher for three seasons and during one particularly tense game against JY Prep, Lim Jaebeom whacked a line drive right into his solar plexus. 
That’s how it felt to look up and see you at the top of the stairs. 
In his head, you were still the mischievous imp from his childhood. Every prank he played was directed at the fierce little fiend with braids and braces who’d knocked him and his date into the university fountain while experimenting with her friend’s skateboard. 
But she was gone… and in her place was something far more dangerous. 
A woman. 
Silken fabric wrapped tightly over curves you definitely didn’t have four years ago. That wild hair had been tamed into shining waves and pinned elegantly at the nape of your neck. The wicked slit that traveled all the way up your thigh teased a smooth shapely leg that all but demanded the viewer fantasize about running their hand up the length of it. 
Suddenly it was very clear why Park Jimin wouldn’t let his sister venture into the corporate cesspool alone. 
Because the sight of you could make a man desperate. 
Betrayal—of all things—slowly crept over Taehyung as you descended toward him like some sort of angel floating down from the heavens. 
His mind went blank. Just watching the seductive shift of your hips as you swayed ever closer felt like a violation of his friendship with Jimin. He could feel the judgmental stares of an imaginary Bro-Code Council boring into him from on high. 
“I see you’ve recovered from your memorable tenure as the Aviary Society’s Master of Ceremonies.”
And just like that the brat was back. 
Taehyung breathed a hefty sigh of relief, secretly thrilled to be in familiar territory with you. 
“Naturally I was delighted to help Senator Mitchell’s wife. In fact, Mitchell’s office just fast tracked all my pending permit requests for the new year.” He tilted forward, coming into your space a bit. “I should really send you a thank you card.” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you scowled, breezing past him like an indignant queen. 
Tae could practically see the steam pouring out of your ears. 
“Of course not,” he chuckled.
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The first gala of the holiday season was an extravagant annual affair hosted by Min Corp., a Seoul based investment firm that commanded billions in assets. This year, the theme of the event was the Joseon Dynasty and the entire ballroom had been gloriously transformed into a stunning celebration of the Min family’s royal heritage. 
Attendees were gifted their own traditional fan, each uniquely crafted by artisans from Damyang. Taehyung’s was all black with bold silver calligraphy while yours was a beautiful bamboo and silk piece decorated with pomegranate trees. 
You had already whacked three people with it by the time dinner was served. 
“It really is a pity these fell out of fashion,” you lamented. “They’re quite useful.”
“You are deranged,” Taehyung mumbled, massaging his temples in exasperation. 
“Nonsense. I only fanned those who deserved it.”
“Harkins?”
“He was staring at my rack for a solid minute.”
Taehyung could hardly blame the man, it was a battle he himself was losing after all, but Harkins was twice your age and married—therefore his ogling was in especially poor taste. 
“Okay... What about Kang?” 
“He was verbally abusing one of the waitstaff.” 
“Alright, fair enough, but why on earth would you go after sweet old Mrs. O’Malley?”
“She was about to grab your ass.”
Taehyung’s mouth dropped open.
“She’s eighty-five!”
“And still kickin’ apparently.” You shook your head in disgust. “As if I’d whack an eighty-five year-old woman for anything less than non-consensual touching.”
“I- I- mean—surely you must be mistaken,” he coughed. 
“Oh, there’s no mistake. That nasty old crone is a serial offender. She likes to play it off as dementia, but she’s as sharp as a tack. Last year she got a whole handful of Jimin. Honestly, I’d call the police on her, but the commissioner is her grandson so I doubt I’d get very far.”
Taehyung turned to the woman in question just in time to see her totter lecherously toward Jung Hoseok, fingers already twitching in anticipation. 
“Is nothing sacred?” he mused hollowly. 
You shrugged. 
“Many people who accumulate as much as our families have start believing that they are entitled to whatever strikes their fancy.” Your eyes met his with a hint of bemusement. “Surely you should be used to this sort of thing by now?”
“Yes, but I was hardly expecting it from little old ladies!”
The remainder of dinner was a terse affair where you pretended he didn’t exist for the entire meal and he in turn pretended that the spunky young heiress seated to his right was the most darling creature to ever walk the earth. By dessert she was ready to get married and you were ready to vomit. 
Afterward, Taehyung found himself quickly converted to your views on fan usefulness as you began strolling through the crowd intent on strengthening your family’s corporate ties. 
“Kim Taehyung,” you ground out through clenched teeth, “how am I supposed to do business if you keep stabbing everyone I speak to!”
“I don’t know what you’re implying. I’m simply not used to carrying one of these. I may have accidentally grazed a few overzealous individuals—”
“My last three conversations have been rudely disrupted by the blunt end of that accused fan.”
Taehyung crossed his arms smugly. 
“And what of it? Jimin sent me along to keep an eye on you and the gentlemen in question were hardly behaving themselves. No one has to put their hand in my back or lean that close to me when they’re talking business.” 
“That’s because no one wants to get that close to you,” you replied sweetly. “You’re gross.” 
A devastating grin slid slowly over his features as he leaned forward to whisper in your ear. 
“I can think of several women who might disagree.”
He just barely caught the hitch in your breath before- 
“Like who? Miss Blushes-and-Giggles from dinner?”
“Jealous?” Taehyung drawled cockily. 
“Only in your dreams, Kim.” Then, with a deliberate flick of your fan, you turned your back to him. “I’m headed for the ladies room. Do yourself a favor and don’t follow me in.”
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It was twenty minutes before Taehyung realized that you slipped out the back entrance of the restroom. 
It took another ten for him to locate you on the balcony flirting outrageously with Min Yoongi. 
The young heir of Min Corp. was just leaning closer to whisper sweet nothings in your ear when a black fan slid right in between the two of you. 
“Lovely weather we’re having,” Taehyung observed cheerfully. His eyes bounced between you and Yoongi with barely concealed fury and you let out a miserable groan. 
“Mr. Kim,” Yoongi cleared his throat significantly. “What an… unexpected surprise.”
Frustration clawed at your chest as your overbearing guardian nodded smugly in response. 
It was time to teach him—and Jimin—a lesson. 
“Yoongi,” you sighed, sliding your hand pointedly through the crook of his arm, “I’m not feeling at all well. Would you perhaps… escort me home?”
Taehyung suddenly looked as if he’d swallowed a live octopus. 
Yoongi grinned, clearly thrilled with the prospect of simultaneously spending more time with you and irritating Taehyung. 
“It would be my pleasure.”
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“Jimin is gonna kill me,” Taehyung grumbled as he watched Min Yoongi help you into the passenger seat of his Aston Martin. 
An ugly green feeling he refused to identify twisted sharply in his gut when you smiled coyly at the other man. 
“This is ridiculous,” he snarled to no one in particular before yanking his phone out of his pocket. 
Jungkook picked up on the second ring. 
“Sir?”
“I need you to drive to Ms. Park’s apartment and tell me if she goes in alone or if Min Yoongi goes in with her.”
“You want me to what?!” 
“Just do it!” he snapped, downing an entire glass of champagne before signaling his own driver. 
Fifteen minutes later his phone vibrated from the car seat next to him. 
1 New Message from: Jungkook
Her building has four separate entrances. Which one do I watch? 
Taehyung could practically feel the vein pulsing in his forehead as he scrolled through his contacts. 
You picked up on the fourth ring. 
“Hello?”
“Where are you?”
“Oh it’s you… Wait—how did you get this number?”
“Jimin. Obviously. Now please answer the question.”
“Oh a ‘please.’ Who knew you had manners?”
“Answer the question, Park. I’m tired.”
The distinct sound of a zipper unzipping carried through the speaker. 
“I’m at home, of course. Where else would I be? I just got here like a minute ago.”
He had a sudden vision of Min Yoongi helping you out of your dress. His grip on the phone tightened. 
“Are you alone?”
You snorted. 
“I don’t see how that is any of your business.”
Taehyung saw red. 
“I’m coming over.”
There was a loud crash and several colorful words in at least three different languages. 
“Wha- No! I’m trying to go to bed!”
“With who?!”
“With myself, you idiot!”
“Prove it!”
“Fine! I will!”
The line disconnected and Taehyung swore loudly. He was just about to direct the driver to your building when his phone went off again. 
1 New Message from: Park Gremlin 
He almost choked on his tongue. 
You were clearly in the middle of undressing and—in your irritation—probably hadn’t looked too carefully at the picture you sent.  
At first glance it was simply a shot of your empty room (presumably “proof” that you were alone) but you neglected to consider the floor-length mirror hanging in the far corner…
A mirror that showed you angrily holding up your phone with your gown pooled deliciously around your waist and the soft round swells of your breasts strapped into lacy red lingerie. 
You were exquisite. 
A fierce, hot sensation gripped him ruthlessly, and this time there was no mistaking it. 
Desire. 
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Your phone lit up on the bed where you tossed it after snapping a photo for your tightly-wound man nanny. 
1 New Message from: Kim Grinch 
I didn’t know you liked Van Gogh. 
Your head tilted in confusion. 
There was a Van Gogh print in your room, but he couldn’t have seen it because it was behind you when-
Oh NO.
You gasped, scrolling back up to confirm what deep down you already knew to be true. 
… You just sent Kim Taehyung a topless mirror selfie. 
Several miles away, smiling smugly in the backseat of his town car, Taehyung was sure he could almost hear you screaming. 
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“Good morning, sir. Which would you like first; the bad news or the worse news?”
Taehyung groaned from underneath his covers. 
“Don’t you ever knock? I could have a woman up here.”
“You’ve never brought a woman up here.”
“Is that the bad news?” Taehyung yawned. 
“No,” Jungkook tossed a small stack of newspapers and printed digital articles into his lap, “this is the bad news.”
Pictures of you, Min Yoongi, and even himself were splashed over the front pages of all of them. 
PARK ANGEL TRADES ONE CORPORATE HEIR FOR ANOTHER AT MIN GALA
WHO WILL WIN THE PARK ANGEL’S HEART? KIM TAEHYUNG OR MIN YOONGI? LET US KNOW IN THE COMMENTS
NEW ROMANCE ALERT? PARK ANGEL LEAVES JOSEON BALL WITH MIN SCION 
“The Park Angel?” 
“That’s what the media calls her... The public is rather fascinated with her actually.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Taehyung mumbled. 
“Of course not, sir. It’s a great mystery.”
As usual, Taehyung chose to ignore his aide’s lethal snark and pressed on to the matter at hand. 
“This is a flaming disaster.”
“Oh I don’t know. I really appreciated the picture of you staring on forlornly while she and Yoongi climbed into the Aston Martin. Takes a real gift to capture all that drama in a single frame.”
“Which one was that?!” 
“It’s right under the MAN DOWN: PARK ANGEL LEAVES KIM TAEHYUNG HEARTBROKEN headline.”
Tae ran his hand down over his face in exasperation. 
“I’m surprised my mother hasn’t called.”
“She has. Twice.”
“I don’t suppose that’s the ‘worse news’ is it?”
“No.”
“Of course it isn’t. I’m never that lucky.” He collapsed backwards into his pillows with a beleaguered huff. “Go ahead then. Tell me.”
“Park Jimin is on the line for you right now.”
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After a small eternity on the phone with Jimin (assuring him that NO Min Yoongi had not despoiled his precious sister and YES he would definitely do better next time), Taehyung was forced to attend an impromptu brunch with his mother. It took considerable effort, but he was eventually able to convince her that you were neither breaking his heart nor expecting his child. 
By the time he arrived to collect you for this evening’s event, Taehyung was already sick of hearing your name (he’d spoken it no less than three hundred times since Jungkook woke him this morning).
You were in much the same boat as Taehyung, having spent most of the afternoon pacifying Jimin and clearing up your own mother’s romantic delusions regarding the Min and Kim heirs respectively. 
Tonight’s gala was a Victorian Christmas Ball thrown by the National Literary Fund and the entire venue had been transformed into a Charles Dickens fever dream. 
Unlike the Min Gala (whose theme was guarded like a state secret every year) the Literary Fund’s tribute to A Christmas Carol was tradition and you were dressed accordingly in a custom corset gown with gorgeous detailing. 
Every second of effort it took to lace yourself into the monstrosity was worth the look on Taehyung’s face the moment you slipped off your cape. 
“Something wrong, Mr. Kim?”
Taehyung was desperately trying to look literally anywhere but your chest, where said corset was serving up your breasts like a debauched buffet. 
Jimin. Think of Jimin. Think of what Jimin will do to you. Think of how much trouble she’s caused-
He peeked again.
I would pay a million dollars to suck those tits. 
“Nothing at all,” his voice cracked. 
The itinerary for the evening included performances by a local children’s choir, a traditional waltz, and—of course—dinner.
You both managed to get along without snapping at each other during the choral performance, but as two of the largest donors to the Children’s Literacy Initiative, neither of you could escape being drawn into the waltz. 
The energetic socialite who Taehyung flirted with over dinner the previous night eventually lured him onto the floor while you graciously accepted an invitation from a lovely older gentleman who chaired the Fund’s event committee. 
For the first few movements, you were thoroughly enjoying yourself. Mr. Lee was charming, respectful, and still an excellent dancer despite his advanced age. It wasn’t until a familiar sound caught your attention that the lightness in your chest suddenly felt heavy...
Taehyung was laughing. 
You heard him do so many times over the years, and in each instance, the carefree magic of it never failed to make your heart flutter. 
But now he was smiling down at the pretty little heiress and laughing for her… and the flutter in your chest was accompanied by something else. 
Something that felt an awful lot like longing. 
“Does he know you look at him like that?” Mr. Lee asked quietly. 
Your eyes flew guiltily to his, but it was too late. The old man had caught a glimpse of the secret you buried deeply for more than a decade; so deeply, in fact, there were times you almost forgot it yourself...
Almost. 
“No,” you whispered, “he has no idea.” 
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Disaster struck at dinner. 
Taehyung quite liked dancing with the lovely Miss Something-or-Other. She was sweet and funny and (unlike with you) he wasn’t constantly torn between agitation and raging inappropriate lust in her presence. 
The cold shoulder you offered him when he took his seat seemed even more frigid than usual and he spent half the meal wondering what he’d done to earn your amplified disdain when suddenly—
Your hand smacked down on his wrist, seizing it in a vise-like grip. 
Taehyung nearly choked on his steak and was about to give you a searing set-down over your spontaneous grabby-ness when he noticed your expression. 
“What’s wrong?” he whispered, leaning forward in concern. 
“I-I need—” 
It looked as if you were in some sort of physical pain and Taehyung was rapidly becoming worried. 
“I need your help,” you finally managed to whimper and the next thing he knew, you were dragging him away from the table and into one of the secluded alcoves near the main entrance hall. 
“Is there anyone around? Can anyone see us?” The look on your face bordered on unhinged. 
“No. There’s no one. Park, are you okay? What’s going on I—”
“I need you to unlace my dress,” you hissed frantically. 
At that moment, a bomb could have gone off and Taehyung wouldn’t have blinked. 
You, however, were completely preoccupied with your own distress and therefore oblivious to his. 
“My earring broke during dinner and fell down there and now it’s stabbing me—”
Your eyes were beginning to tear. Taehyung remained frozen, still trying to figure out whether or not this was a lucid dream. 
“—it’s definitely pierced the skin and there’s a possibility I’m gonna start bleeding through the fabric—”
The mention of blood snapped him out of his daze somewhat. 
“A-Alright. Just turn around—brace yourself on that wall.”
You quickly did as you were told and Taehyung began to tug fruitlessly at the ties cross-crossing your back.
“Why won’t this—”
His fingers fumbled over the knots, desperately trying to loosen them, but they simply wouldn’t budge. 
“I can’t—I can’t get it. Whoever helped you into this thing made sure you weren’t getting out of it.” 
You whined in frustration and the earring shifted a bit in response. 
There was only one other way to fix this (and you would almost rather be in pain). 
“Taehyung I—” you turned to face him again, forcing your eyes shut before reluctantly doing what had to be done “... I need you to reach down the front of my dress and get it.”
He blinked. Twice. 
“I’m sorry—What did you just—”
“Please, Tae,” you whispered desperately, letting your lip tremble in a way he had never been able to resist, “it hurts…”
He gulped. 
His eyes dropped to the matter at hand.
This is fine. Everything’s fine. She’s in pain, right? You’re basically a doctor right now. You’re just going slide your hand in between the most mouthwatering pair of breasts you’ve ever seen and then—
Taehyung’s manic inner monologue was interrupted by the sound of his own moan. He immediately faked a coughing fit to cover it and prayed you hadn’t noticed. 
(You hadn’t. You were actively being stabbed.) 
“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this,” he muttered, curling his fingers over the scalloped edge of the bodice. 
You bit your lip, desperately trying to hold back any reaction, but when his knuckle brushed the pebbled tip of your nipple, you gasped. 
Oh.
His hand stuttered, lingering a moment too long over the tight little peak as his gaze suddenly shot up to meet yours. Both of you had been studiously avoiding eye contact, yet now it was as if neither of you could look away. 
Taehyung wet his lips reflexively. 
“It’s too tight,” he whispered, “I need more leverage.” 
Then his arm wrapped over the curve of your lower back and he drew you tightly against him, anchoring your hips just enough to fully slip his hand between your body and the corset. 
You were so warm.
So soft...
“I can feel it,” he grunted, “but I can’t get a good grip on it.” 
His mouth pressed into a tight line as he leaned forward, bringing your back up against the wall. You let out a little squeak and his eyes darted briefly down to your mouth before he spoke again. 
“Hold on to me.”  
You nodded and wordlessly slid your arms around his waist.
If you concentrated hard enough, you could almost pretend that this wasn’t one of the most erotic moments of your life. 
You could almost pretend that it meant nothing. 
Your mind was spinning wildly, wondering what he was thinking, wondering if he noticed how strangely you were breathing or how hard your heart was beating...
“I’ve got it,” he murmured. Shivers shot down your spine at the dark timbre of his voice. 
He was so close. You could feel every word he spoke brushing softly against your skin. 
“On ‘three’ I’m going to pull it out… Are you ready?”
You drew in a final steadying breath. 
“Do it.”
He nodded. 
“One… Two… Three—”
Taehyung yanked his hand back and several things happened at once. 
Your breasts bounced almost entirely out of the corset. 
The decorative clasps on the front of your gown tangled with the buttons on his shirt and when he pulled back, three of them went flying off like stray bullets. 
And finally, the corset didn’t relinquish Taehyung’s hand quite quickly enough and, as a result, you toppled forward and crashed down on top of him, smashing your newly bare breasts to his newly bare chest. 
It could have been ten seconds or ten hours that passed by while the two of you lay there, breathing heavily in a pile of confused arousal when—
“... Is… everything alright here?”
You both looked up to find a thoroughly scandalized member of the waitstaff standing over you. 
Taehyung saw his life flash before his eyes—ending (of course) with Jimin murdering him for this. 
He gulped again. 
“I can explain.” 
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It was decided—for the sake of appearances—that you would both leave the venue (immediately) in separate vehicles. 
Taehyung dropped a cool three hundred in crisp bills on the unfortunate waiter in order to help him ‘forget’ whatever he may or may not have seen. 
Neither of you spoke another word to each other in the ten minutes it took to bribe all the appropriate parties, gather your coats, and call for two separate town cars. 
Something had happened when he touched you; a subtle shift in the precarious balance of your relationship that you both felt keenly, but could not possibly begin to define. 
Taehyung barely even remembered climbing into the back of a vehicle. His body was firing on auto-pilot after the sensory overload of the last half hour. It wasn’t until he was nearly home that he realized he was still holding onto your earring. 
His mind began to wander as he examined the troublesome bauble in his palm. It was a striking piece; deceptively complex and unexpectedly beautiful. 
Just like you.
He told himself that the heat pooling low in his belly was anger—that the strange anxiousness to be near you was simply a desire for retribution—that it was merely platonic curiosity that left his hands aching to explore the rest of your curves. 
Lies.
… and pitifully transparent ones at that. 
Still, he clung to them desperately out of self-preservation. 
The gentle hum of his phone suddenly disturbed Taehyung’s silent contemplation. 
1 New Message from: Park Gremlin 
I made it home safely. 
Taehyung’s fingers were typing a reply before he could properly consider the consequence of his actions. 
To: Park Gremlin
I require proof… like last time. 
He nearly threw the phone the moment he sent it, running his hands down over his face in disbelief. 
You’re playing with fire, Kim Taehyung. 
And he was burning up already. He had no business sending you texts like that. Maybe you wouldn’t catch it. Maybe he could just-
The phone went off again and it was embarrassing how quickly he scrambled to open your response. 
His heart stuttered in his chest. His breathing ceased entirely-
And he knew—he knew—there was no coming back from this.
At first glance the photo was nearly identical to the shot you sent him last night. Same room, same angle… 
same mirror.
Yet this time, the reflection was quite different. 
The temptress in the glass wore nothing but that sinfully delicious corset and a pair of silky lace thigh highs, each accented with a green satin bow. 
He wanted to rip them off with his teeth. 
 “Oh Taehyung,” he whispered, as a dark wave primitive longing tore through him, “you are in so much trouble.”
Across town (buried beneath a pile of blankets) you were still struggling to process the boldness of your own actions when his response lit up your screen. 
1 New Message from: Kim Grinch
Green is my favorite color. 
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“WHERE IS HE—”
Taehyung awoke to a series of crashes and shouts echoing from the floor below him. 
Jungkook was already seated in the corner of the room reading a newspaper. 
“Good morning, sir,” he said without looking up. “Would you like the bad news or the worse news?”
Suddenly the french doors of his bedroom slammed open and one very irate Park Jimin stormed through. 
“I swear I should have seen this coming. The two of you have always been obsessed with each other, but I never imagined—”
Taehyung’s eyes widened guiltily. He quickly schooled his features into a confused glare. 
“Jimin, I’ve only been awake for fifteen seconds. What the hell are you talking about?!”
Another stack of newspapers hit his lap and this time the pictures were mostly of him with his shirt ripped halfway down his chest. 
KIM HEIR AND PARK ANGEL CAUSE AN OLD-FASHIONED SCANDAL AT VICTORIAN BALL
FORGET MISTLETOE: KIM TAEHYUNG DISCOVERED UNDER THE PARK ANGEL AT CHRISTMAS CELEBRATION
NAUGHTY NOEL? PARK ANGEL’S STEAMY AFFAIR WITH CORPORATE PRINCE 
PARK ANGEL TOPS KIM TAEHYUNG’S CHRISTMAS TREE
He winced a bit at that last one. 
“You have ten seconds to explain before I start throwing things.”
Taehyung opened his mouth to do just that, but he was interrupted when his mother marched into the room waving the same articles that Jimin had just thrown at him. 
“KIM TAEHYUNG I raised you better than this! How could you!? That poor girl!”
“Mother!” he squeaked, yanking his blanket up over his chest like a frightened debutante. 
Jungkook began surreptitiously filming the whole debacle from the corner. 
“Indeed,” Jimin added darkly, crossing his arms over his chest, “how could you?”
Taehyung sighed heavily. 
“Is anyone else going to come charging into my bedroom?”
“Just answer me once and for all, is she pregnant?” 
“WHAT?!” 
“NO! Mother! Oh my—”
“Why does your mom think my little sister is pregnant?!”
Taehyung waved his arms wildly in exasperation. 
“My mom thinks everyone is pregnant! You know this!”
Jungkook could no longer contain his hysterical cackling. He very nearly fell off the chair trying to hold it all in. 
“Mr. Jeon,” Taehyung ground out irritably, “if it’s not too much trouble, could you please escort everyone out of my bedroom so I can get dressed!” 
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“So you see—I was basically like a doctor,” Taehyung finished emphatically. 
He spent the past twenty minutes explaining to the entire table (which now included both you and your mother) why it was necessary to shove his hand down the front of your dress. 
Park Soomin had shown up at his door looking for answers (and dragging you behind her like a sacrificial lamb) about three minutes after Jimin. 
You had taken one look at Jimin’s murderous expression and insisted that the situation be evaluated over breakfast at the cafe down the street (where there were lots of witnesses). 
Which was how you, Taehyung, Jimin, and both your mothers ended up discussing your cleavage over coffee in a public restaurant. 
Jimin was the first to break. It was a few snorts at first, but he was basically in tears by the end of it, wheezing about how he never doubted Taehyung for a second and holding on to his sides from laughing too hard. 
Taehyung’s gaze met yours for a brief, heated exchange. He conveniently forgot to mention your slightly-less-than-explainable ‘check-in’ texts, but their existence was palpable in the air between you. 
“I think I’ll take a walk,” you muttered, excusing yourself from the complicated atmosphere at the table. 
Taehyung’s eyes lingered on you a tad too long as you wandered away, a fact that wasn’t missed by either of your mothers.
“Just a few more events and you can go back to not seeing her at all,” Jimin chuckled, patting him on the back. 
“Yeah,” Taehyung answered with a tight smile. “That’s… great.”
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The cafe had a lovely little balcony area decorated with all sorts of comforting Christmas foliage. It was far more inviting than the awkward conversation and confusing stares you and Taehyung had been trading all morning. 
For the first time in the nearly fifteen years of your relationship (such as it was) you didn’t know where you stood with him… and it bothered you more than you cared to admit. 
Taehyung had always been important to you, whether you wanted him to be or not. He mattered—effortlessly—from the first moment you met him and continued to do so without regard for your sanity. 
Whatever was building between you now would almost certainly bring change… though what kind of change was anyone’s guess. 
It was hard to imagine the years ahead without the strange excitement he always brought to your life, but some things were simply out of your control…
“I never thought I’d see you here.”
A profoundly unpleasant feeling (something similar to falling through the ice on a frozen pond) overtook you. 
“Milo.” Even saying his name felt gross. You sighed. “What is so strange about seeing me here?”
The man in question blushed in a way you once found irresistible. 
“I looked for you everywhere. All your usual places—”
“I avoided them.”
I avoided you. 
Milo nodded. 
“I—I figured.” 
He took a step closer and you instinctively moved back. The hurt in his eyes was unmistakable, but you had long since become immune. 
“What are you doing?” you hissed angrily. “I thought I made myself clear the last time we spoke.”
“Yes, but—” his hand reached out to curl over your forearm and you recoiled, “you didn’t give me a chance to explain—”
“Excuse me.” 
You both turned to see Kim Taehyung with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Milo like he was a roach that crawled across his dinner plate. 
“Your mother sent me to come find you. She wants to leave.” 
You nodded and moved to pull away, but Milo’s grip tightened on your arm. 
“No—please if you just give me a minute—”
“That is enough,” Taehyung snarled, seizing the other man’s hand and forcibly removing it from your person. He angled his body between the two of you protectively. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
Milo’s eyes narrowed. 
“You’re Kim Taehyung. I read all about you in the papers this morning.” His lips twisted into an ugly sneer as he addressed you. “You really think you’re better off with him if that’s the way he treats you?”
Taehyung tensed menacingly beside you, but you laid a gentle hand on his arm to calm him. 
“None of that is any of your concern.” Your gaze rose to meet his defiantly. “Nothing about me is your concern anymore.”
Milo’s eyes fell to where your palm rested on the other man’s sleeve, noticing the way you both unconsciously leaned toward one another. 
“This isn’t over,” he muttered, storming off. 
After he was gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding. 
“Thank you,” you whispered (though you couldn’t resist adding), “I could have handled it myself of course…”
Taehyung laughed. 
“Oh I know. I was at that party where you knocked out Tyler Jung for grabbing your ass.” 
You grinned. 
“I’d forgotten about that.”
“Well I’m sure Tyler hasn’t.” 
(He neglected to mention that he split Tyler’s lip behind the library the next day, just to make sure it was extra memorable for him.) 
“I wish I could forget about Milo.”
“... Are you still in love with him?” 
The words tasted like ash in his mouth. 
“No.” You smiled softly. “I’m not sure I was ever in love with him actually. It’s more—” you sighed, “—embarrassment… wounded pride.”
Taehyung tilted his head curiously and you found yourself continuing. 
“In the beginning, he was very playful and charming—and obviously handsome. He reminded me so much of—”
you. 
You cleared your throat. 
“Anyway… I was quite taken with him at first. I didn’t suspect any ulterior motives.” You shrugged, trying to hold back the unpleasant emotions that always threatened to overrun you in moments like this. “I just thought he liked me.”
Taehyung’s eyes filled with sympathy and understanding as you spoke. It felt oddly natural to open up to him this way. 
“Jimin is very protective of me—with good reason it turns out. He was suspicious of Milo and hired people to do some discreet digging.”
Your hands wrapped around your body for both warmth and comfort. 
“Milo’s family owns several companies, just like ours, but they’re all struggling. His father sent him to me hoping that he would eventually get compromising information… a sex tape or photographs—something of that nature. They intended to blackmail Jimin into doing business with them.”
Taehyung felt his jaw clench painfully. Fury, hot and profound, rolled through him. 
“I should kill him.”
You shook your head, amused in spite of yourself. 
“That’s exactly what Jimin said.”
“He has good instincts.”
“Scum like Milo aren’t worth it,” you chuckled. “He never got what he wanted… but I was still mortified. I felt like such a fool for believing him.”
“No,” Taehyung’s hands slid up to cup your shoulders, “it’s not foolish to believe that someone cared for you.”
It would be so easy to care for you. 
“Besides…” his eyes fell briefly to your lips as he searched for the right words, “I saw the way he looked at you and—even though he’s clearly a terrible person—I believe his feelings may have been genuine.”
You nodded. 
“That’s what he keeps trying to tell me—that he did have bad intentions, but ended up falling for me anyway.” You shook your head. “As If I could believe a word he says.”
The silence between you stretched comfortably. Taehyung sensed you had more to say, so he waited until you were ready to voice it. 
“I think that’s why I’m so sensitive about handling things on my own lately… and just now even. I want to prove to everyone—to myself—that I’m not a liability.”
“Hey,” he whispered, tipping your chin up till your gazes met, “no one thinks you’re a liability. And even if you are capable, no one should have to fight their own battles all the time—especially when they’re emotionally compromised…” His thumb gently brushed away the small tear that escaped down the curve of your cheek. “That’s the benefit of having people who care about you.”
“... Like you?” 
The words left you so softly, you could almost imagine they were still in your head where they likely should have stayed. 
Taehyung’s eyes widened in surprise. His gaze became even more intent and you ceased breathing altogether. After a moment his lips parted as if he was about to speak- 
“What’s going on, guys?”
You both jerked back at the sound of your brother’s voice. He was standing in the entrance to the balcony, gaze darting suspiciously between the two of you. 
Taehyung was a bit dazed, but you were always quicker on your feet. 
“I ran into Milo… Tae was calming me down.”
Jimin’s eyes hardened immediately. 
“Where is he?”
“Long gone,” you mumbled, ambling over to the familiar warmth of his arms. “I just want to go home.” 
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The Black and White Ball was one of the most coveted invitations of the holiday season. 
The dress code was quite strict (all black or all white—no exceptions) and it was one of the few events where people actually arrived in limousines. 
Taehyung loathed limousines. He felt absurdly pretentious pulling up to your building in such a gauche ride, but traditions and appearances meant too much in his world to simply disregard them. 
His ensemble for the evening was a beautifully tailored black suit with hand-stitched baroque detailing. Oddly, he found himself wondering what you would think of it... 
“You look like a vampire.”
Taehyung turned at the sound of your voice and was struck, yet again, by how incredibly beautiful you were. 
You had chosen to wear white, donning an exquisite gown with delicate pearl beading and a daring sweetheart neckline that molded perfectly to your frame. 
If he looked like a vampire, you were surely an angel. 
Still…
Angel or not, he couldn’t let that comment pass. 
“I think I’m offended.”
“I can’t imagine why. After all, loads of women are attracted to Nosferatu.”
Taehyung’s eyes narrowed. 
“There are so many sexy vampires in popular culture, but you just had to lump me in with the creepy bald one...”
You shrugged playfully. 
“I wouldn’t want you to think I was going soft.”
A wicked grin danced over your lips as you strolled past him regally—just as you had many times before... 
This time, however, he let his eyes linger a little longer on the view. 
Lord have mercy. 
“Of course not,” he coughed. 
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“You’re what?!”
You rolled your eyes.
Tonight had been going rather well. 
The two of you formed a mutual unspoken agreement to pretend that your last encounter on the balcony (and on the phone) had never happened and (despite the heated glances you occasionally traded) the bickering and playful banter characteristic of your relationship had all but returned to normal...
Until Taehyung learned of your participation in the evening’s main event. 
“I told you, I’m part of the date auction this year.”
“Does your brother know about this?!”
“I didn’t see any reason to bother him with it.” You were suddenly preoccupied with your nails. 
“Woman,” Taehyung sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “are you trying to make my life difficult?”
“No, I’m just naturally gifted in that respect.”
You turned and began making your way to the front, but Taehyung was hot on your heels and clearly not ready to let the matter rest. 
“I cannot believe you’re actually going through with this! It’s not 1810, you know. We shouldn’t just auction off women for dates—”
“You’re absolutely right, Tae Tae.” You brushed a condescending pat over his cheek. “Nowadays we auction off the men too.”
Then you sauntered off to join the rest of the participating women—and men—backstage, leaving Taehyung to stew about the entire situation from the crowd. 
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“As you know, all proceeds from tonight’s auction go to fight childhood hunger right here in our city. For legal purposes, I must advise all bidders that you are only bidding on the company of the individual in question.”
Taehyung shook his head. “Jimin is probably going to kill me for this.”
“If you place the winning bid, then you and your date will receive two VIP tickets to the Governor's Winter Wonderland Gala which comes with a variety of amenities including; a luxury limousine service, one of the private and famously romantic Winter Wonderland dinner experiences—”
His eyes fluttered shut. “Jimin is definitely gonna kill me for this.” 
“—unlimited free drinks, ten complimentary tickets for each of the grand prize raffles, photos with the Governor and his family, along with many more surprises!”
Taehyung grabbed a champagne flute from a nearby waiter and downed it in one go. 
“And now for our first date of the evening! Mr. Jackson Wang!” 
Jackson went for a cool six grand because no one was brave enough to outbid his girlfriend. 
After him, the beautiful Manoban heiress and her handsome cousin Kim Namjoon went for twelve grand each.
Jung Hoseok started a frenzied bidding war between two young socialites and Mrs. O’Malley. He ended up going to the lovely Ms. Ana Fallon for a staggering twenty thousand dollars. 
Taehyung’s own cousin, Kim Seokjin, paid a jaw-dropping twenty-one thousand dollars for Lin Yuna, the young CEO of Lin Cosmetics. (Taehyung made a mental note to ask him about that later.) 
Then it was your turn. 
“The next lady on our list needs no introduction. The lovely Park Angel has graciously agreed to a date with one lucky bidder tonight! Who will it be? Do I hear ten thousand?”
“Ten thousand.”
Taehyung swung his head toward the first bidder and breathed a sigh of relief. 
Tam Martin, one of your best friends and very gay. 
“Eleven thousand.”
“Twelve thousand.”
“Fifteen.”
“Sixteen thousand dollars.”
“Seventeen thousand.”
“Eighteen.”
Taehyung was having trouble keeping up with all the bidders. His ears were starting to ring again and a strange unpleasant nausea was building in his stomach. 
“Twenty thousand.”
“Twenty-five thousand.”
“Thirty thousand!”
At the sound of the last bidder’s voice, you noticeably paled. Your eyes flew to Taehyung’s and immediately he knew exactly who it was. 
Milo.
Before he could even react to the new information, another voice joined the fray. 
“Forty thousand.”
Min Yoongi smiled smugly from the other side of the room and even had the audacity to throw you a wink. 
You smiled shyly at the young heir’s boldness and Taehyung felt something downright unholy rise up in his chest. 
No. 
Milo was still bidding. 
“Fifty thousand dollars.”
Not her. 
“Sixty,” Yoongi countered.
She’s mine. 
Suddenly Taehyung was on his feet. 
“One hundred thousand dollars!” 
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The silence in the backseat of your limousine was deafening. 
Tension charged the air like an electric current as the significance of the last hour weighed heavily between you. 
The spacious luxury vehicle allowed you to sit facing one another. Taehyung’s eyes were focused on his hands, but you were looking at him—letting your mind run wild with speculation. 
And hope. 
Part of you was still there, on the stage, watching him stand up and bid a fortune for the pleasure of your company. 
His gaze was so fierce when he spoke, like an ancient emperor calling out his decree for the people to obey. 
You dreamed about him bidding on you when you signed up for the auction (even before Jimin bullied him into accompanying you). You let yourself imagine him speaking out again and again till the others stepped back—
Yet you never dared hope for it. 
However, the last several days marked an unexpected turning point in your relationship. 
For years, you and he were like magnets with a too-similar charge, but something had shifted irrevocably between you, and somehow your stubborn similarities became opposites that could not resist their attraction. 
Kim Taehyung was one of the wealthiest men in the city…
But he didn’t need to buy your heart. 
It had always been his, even if you didn’t want to admit it. 
He had claimed you tonight—and every single soul in that ballroom knew it. 
The next move was yours and you intended to make it. 
“Mmm,” you hissed a bit, bringing your hand to rest just below your breasts. 
Taehyung’s gaze flew up in concern. 
“Is everything alright?”
“Yes, it’s just that scratch from the earring,” your fingers rubbed gingerly at the spot, drawing his focus to it, “it still stings.”
“Oh… I—” he shook his head, “I didn’t realize it was that bad.”
“Do you want to see?” 
Taehyung’s eyes rose slowly to yours. 
You watched the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he considered your words. Anticipation vibrated through your blood like notes struck on a piano—
Then he nodded...
And you both were lost. 
Trembling fingers slid the zipper down the side of your gown. The dress itself was a marvel of physics designed to support you without the need for a bra. 
Taehyung drew in an impossibly deep breath as the fabric drifted to your waist, baring the perfect mounds of your breasts to him entirely. 
“Here,” you whispered, pointing to a small red mark just under the curve of your left one. 
He bit back a moan. 
“I—I see. That looks… painful.” His fingers dug into the seat beside him. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 
You nodded. 
“Kiss it better.”
Taehyung felt the air knock out of his lungs like a sucker punch. 
This must have been how Adam felt when Eve offered him the forbidden fruit all those millennia ago. 
He knew he shouldn’t—
but he could never deny you. 
“Of course.”
You watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He looked like a man possessed and you reveled in the power of it. 
It was for you. 
He wanted you. 
Your back arched up the slightest bit, beckoning to him—offering him a taste of what he was so desperately craving. 
Touch me… please. 
Large palms landed on either side of your thighs, bracing him on the seat beneath you. The tip of his nose teased the delicate line of your collar bone and he swore violently under his breath. 
Then his lips were on your skin and your mind went blank. 
“Taehyung—“ you moaned. 
Hot open-mouthed kisses spread over the soft swell of your breast and you gasped— shuddering helplessly as a fierce wave of pleasure tore through you.
Sweet merciful heavens. 
Over the years you imagined a moment like this thousands of times in your head—only to discover now that you had pitifully underestimated both his passion and his skill. 
You had dreamed of a quiet fire—but he had unleashed an inferno. 
The lewd sounds of his mouth nipping and sucking at your tender flesh filled the small space around you as he poured himself into each obscene contact—stopping briefly to flick his tongue over the taunt peak of your nipple. You trembled breathlessly at the sharp snap of sensation, letting your head fall back against the seat as you buried your fingers in his soft curls. 
“T-Tae—”
Finally his mouth fastened over the tiny scratch, and the kiss deepened. You knew what he was doing, what the result of his efforts would be—
He was marking you. 
And you wanted it. 
Oh how you wanted it. 
Suddenly the car took a sharp turn, causing Taehyung to lose his grip on the seat. His arms wrapped around your torso for balance, dragging you fully against him.
“Does it feel better, Angel?” he growled. 
You nodded frantically and he nipped at the underside of your breast. 
“Speak up.”  
“Yes, Taehyung,” you whimpered, “it feels so much better.” 
“Mmmm,” he hummed, brushing his mouth along the sensitive column of your neck. “Who knew you could be such a good girl?”
Then his hand came up to grip your chin, turning it so your lips were almost against his—
“Madame. We’ve arrived.”
The driver’s voice cut over your senses like a shard of ice. 
Taehyung jerked backward and immediately buried his face in his hands. 
Your fingers hastily yanked your dress up and you stumbled out of the car in a daze, letting your feet carry you forward until you collapsed on top of your bed. 
Did we just...
You hadn’t even begun to collect your thoughts when your phone buzzed from inside your purse. 
1 New Message from: Taehyung 🙄🥴🙈
I need to know you made it safely to your room. 
You grinned. 
Greedy boy. 
Back in the limousine, the boy in question was nervously tapping the corner of his phone against his chin as he waited for your reply. 
1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅
Oh? But you saw me walk in… and I’m already in bed.
Taehyung growled in frustration. 
She would be a tease. 
To: Angel 🤬🥵😅
I tend to worry. Put my mind at ease. 
He shook his head. 
I have officially gone insane. 
The phone buzzed again. 
1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅
Well… We can’t have that can we… 
Taehyung literally felt the whine tear out of him as he opened the picture. 
Your gorgeous body (the body he’d had his hands and mouth on for one glorious minute) was nestled decadently atop a pile of fluffy blue blankets and wrapped in nothing but a tiny silk robe. 
The neck gaped open just enough to show off the pretty red marks he left on the delectable curve of your breast. 
He groaned, biting down hard on his bottom lip.
To: Angel 🤬🥵😅
That's all I get after I made the pain go away? Good girls send real proof, Angel
The screen lit up again almost immediately. 
1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅
Guess I’m not such a good girl after all...
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Jimin came tearing through the Kim Manor front gate at precisely 7 AM—only to find Jungkook camped out at the entrance with several outdoor space heaters and a giant mug of hot chocolate.
“He told you not to let me in, didn’t he?”
Jungkook took a long satisfying sip of his cocoa. 
“I hope you don’t feel singled out, sir. I’m not allowed to let his mother in either.”
“I need to talk to him.”
“Of course, Mr. Park, let me just pull up his schedule—”
“I need to talk to him now.”
“I’m afraid Mr. Kim is booked solid for the morning.”
Jimin stomped his foot like a petulant child. 
“I know he’s up there.”
Jungkook grinned. 
“You’re welcome to climb the trellis and check. I promise not to stop you if you make it all the way up.”
“COME DOWN HERE AND FACE ME YOU COWARD!” Jimin shouted at the top of his lungs. 
Jungkook took another long pull of his drink. 
“Might I inquire as to the reason for your visit today, sir?”
“The reason for my visit,” Jimin yanked out his phone and angrily began typing into the search bar, “is that your boss paid ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS for my sister at a date auction last night and I want to know what the hell is going on between them!”
The article Jimin pulled up (DEVILISH KIM TAEHYUNG BUYS HIMSELF A $100,000 ANGEL) featured an image of the two of you entering the Black and White Ball. Your head was thrown back in laughter and Taehyung was grinning down at you as if you’d personally hung all the stars in the sky for him. 
A genuine smile crept over Jungkook’s face as he studied the photograph. 
“That’s quite a headline.” He handed Jimin’s phone back. “Have you asked your sister about it?”
“No, I swung by earlier, but she wasn’t home so—” His eyes widened. “Oh my—is she—”
Jimin suddenly took off running for the trellis, and Jungkook scrambled out of his chair to chase him. 
“KIM TAEHYUNG IF MY SISTER IS IN THAT ROOM—”
He was already three feet off the ground when Jungkook yanked him back. 
“I thought you said I could climb the trellis!”
“Yes,” Jungkook wheezed, “but I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” That trellis is a hundred years old! A few more feet and I’d be scraping you off the antique brickwork!”
Jimin scowled and crossed his arms. 
“Are you by any chance open to bribes?”
“Normally yes, but Tae promised to double my Christmas bonus if I didn’t accept them today.”
Jimin continued to eye the trellis speculatively, clearly willing to take his chances. Jungkook sighed and rubbed his forehead. 
“Mr. Park, I promise you… He came home alone last night. In fact, they both returned earlier than usual because your sister had a 7 AM finance meeting.” He paused significantly to glance at his watch. “Which is probably where she is right now.”
“Oh… Well.”
Jungkook bit his lip to hold back a snort and Jimin’s eyes narrowed. 
“He has to come down eventually.”
“One would think.”
The young Park heir glanced toward Taehyung’s window again just in time to see the man in question dart back behind the curtains. 
"I KNOW YOU'RE AWAKE, KIM TAEHYUNG, YOU PHILANDERING SLEAZE BAG!" 
Jimin made another jump for the trellis and this time Jungkook caught him in mid-air. 
“Sir, I’m sure it was just the maid!”
“It’s not the maid! I’d know that raggedy mop of his anywhere!”
Jungkook was out of breath at this point. Park Jimin might be small, but he was fierce. 
“Perhaps it’s best if you took a moment to collect yourself,” he grunted. “There’s a lovely new spa down the street and they sent Taehyung two free deluxe packages.”
Jimin stopped struggling. 
“Oh?”
Five minutes later, Jungkook sighed deeply and fished his phone out of his back pocket. 
“He’s gone, sir.”
“Excellent work, Jungkook. I never doubted you for a second.”
“However…”
“... However?”
“I had to give him your spa passes.”
“YOU DID WHAT?!”
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“Are you headed for a gala or the guillotine?”
Taehyung rolled his eyes. 
“I don’t pay extra for commentary.”
“It’s complimentary, sir.”
The Kim heir tugged absently at the material of his absurdly expensive evening wear. 
Why do these events always have to be so uncomfortable? 
“Seriously, Tae… you seem,” the young aide searched for the right words, “unusually tense.”
Taehyung’s mind flashed back to three nights ago when he had his mouth wrapped around your breast. 
“Not at all,” he coughed, loosening the collar of his shirt. 
Jungkook bit his lip.
“Is this about Ms. Park, sir?”
The cufflinks Taehyung was attempting to fasten suddenly went flying across the room and hit a lamp. 
Both men winced. 
“I think that was your grandmother’s.”
Taehyung sighed. 
“I admit there have been… some developments.”
Jungkook nodded nonchalantly, trying to disguise the fact that he was internally frothing at the mouth for details. 
“... Such as?”
Taehyung gulped. 
“It started out rather innocently I suppose…” he cleared his throat, “but there may have been some suggestive photographs.”
“There may have been? Are you not sure?”
Taehyung colored guiltily. 
“Well—”
“Do you need me to check for you, sir? I have an art history degree.”
“Absolutely not.”
Jungkook grinned. 
“That’s what I thought.”
Taehyung yanked his tie out of the younger man’s hand. 
“Things have… escalated a bit.”
“Escalated how?”
I licked her tit in the back of a limo.
“Physically.”
It was everything Jungkook could do to maintain a straight face. 
“That’s… shocking.”
“Then why don’t you seem shocked?” Taehyung grumbled. 
A small smile played across Jungkook’s lips as he pointedly ignored the elder man’s observation.
“So what are you going to do, sir?”
Taehyung was silent for a long moment. 
“I honestly have no idea.”
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Watching you walk toward him was an experience.  
Taehyung wondered absently if this was how it would be from now on; if for the rest of his life just the sight of you would be enough to scatter his mind and his pulse and even the way he breathed. 
Your dress tonight was deadly. 
It was a decadent red satin halter that clung to every curve. The truly wicked detail, however, was a daring slit that ran the entire length of your leg. 
Taehyung was certain he was going to trip over his own tongue at some point if he looked directly at you for too long. 
Oh help. 
Memories of your previous encounter flooded his senses. Every second you were getting closer and he didn’t know what to do—what to say. 
So he didn’t say anything at all. 
Not a word when you reached the bottom of the stairs. Nothing but silence as he opened the door of the limo for you. More silence and no eye contact as he settled into the seat across from yours—
And you tolerated that for about three minutes. 
“I never thought I’d see the day when Kim Taehyung didn’t have a comment about something. Perhaps I should mark this down on my calendar.”
The words were lightly spoken, but you were shaking on the inside. The last time the two of you were alone together he had your dress around your waist and you were moaning his name. Now he wasn’t talking and you were torn between panic and irritation. 
Taehyung, however, latched onto your passive barb like a lifeline. 
“Is that a hint of sarcasm I hear from the benevolent Park Angel?” He grinned. “Surely not.”
“Red is not a particularly angelic color. Perhaps I’m feeling feisty today.”
Taehyung leaned back in his seat and indulged himself in a thorough examination of your outfit. The urge to run his hands over the satin-covered lines of your body was nearly unbearable. He curled his fingers into fists to keep them from doing just that. 
She is definitely trying to kill me. 
“Should I be worried?”
Now it was your turn to grin. 
“I guess we’ll find out.”
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The Governor’s Winter Wonderland Gala was by far the most extravagant event of the holiday season. Tickets cost a small fortune and sold out almost immediately. 
But it was well worth the price of admission.
Thousands of lights sparkled overhead as you made your way through the great hall of Governor Kim’s mansion. 
It was like stepping into a fairytale. 
Taehyung couldn’t take his eyes off you. The sheer wonder in your expression was breathtaking. 
You were breathtaking.  
“Governor Kim, it is such an honor to finally meet you.”
The Governor was a handsome man in his early fifties with a smile that was every bit as lethal as it had been twenty-five years ago. 
“The honor is all mine, Ms. Park. I trust my nephew is treating you well.”
Your eyes widened. 
“N-nephew?”
Taehyung shrugged. 
“I don’t really talk about it much.” 
The Governor chuckled and you cleared your throat to cover your nervousness. 
“Yes, he’s been a very capable escort.”
“Is that so?” Governor Kim smiled charmingly. “Well if it doesn’t work out, my son Seokjin is still single—”
“Thank you, Uncle. It was lovely to see you as always.”
You squeaked as Taehyung placed his hand firmly on the curve of your back and practically dragged you away. 
The Governor just shook his head and laughed. 
“Oh kid, you’ve got it bad.”
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Everywhere you looked there was beauty. 
Whoever planned the gala this year had truly gone above and beyond. Surrounded on all sides by glittering trees and snowy vignettes, it was easy to be swept away in the festive magic of the evening. 
All in all (despite some initial awkwardness), you were having a fantastic time...
Until she showed up. 
“Kim Taehyung! Is that you?”
Every single hair on your body stood on end, but before you could determine the source of the shrill squealing, you found yourself being nudged aside by a blinding golden gown and some very high heels. 
“Aubrey,” Taehyung grunted as five-and-half feet of gorgeous wrapped herself around him like a clinging vine. “Long time no see.”
“Not since that vacation in Aspen,” she giggled. “We had quite a time, didn’t we Tae Tae!”
Suddenly you had the most unholy urge to slap the spray tan right off this woman. 
Instead, you plastered on a vibrant smile and placed your hand on Taehyung’s sleeve.
“Um. Excuse me, Tae Tae, perhaps you could introduce us?”
Taehyung looked as if he’d just been served raw fire ants for dinner. 
“Yes. Of course. This is—”
“Aubrey Alicia St. Valentine,” she interrupted with a smug little smirk. “Taehyung and I go way back.” Her expression grew just the slightest bit tighter. “And you are?”
“His date,” you deadpanned. 
“Aubrey,” Taehyung cleared his throat, “I’d like you to meet Ms. Park she’s—”
“Oh my goodness! You’re Jimin’s little sister aren't you!” Aubrey slapped her hand over his chest and he winced. “That is so precious of you to take her around like this!”
Your eyebrows raised right up into your hairline and Taehyung groaned. 
“Yes, he was kind enough to sign me out of the nursery for the evening.” You offered them both a painfully vacant nod. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I see one of my play-dates near the buffet.”
Then you turned on your heel and sauntered off without another word. 
Taehyung moved to follow you, but Aubrey curled her fingers into the crook of his arm and pulled him back. 
“Oh let her go, Tae. You and I have so much catching up to do.”
Taehyung pointedly removed her hand from his elbow. 
“Some other time perhaps.” 
Aubrey pouted prettily. 
“You’re not running off after her are you? She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself.”
Taehyung crossed his arms and fixed her with a knowing look. 
“Funny... that’s not what you were implying a moment ago.”
“A moment ago I didn’t have you all to myself. Now I do.” She had the decency to blush. “Perhaps I got a bit jealous.”
“You don’t say.” His eyes continued to search the crowd for any sign of you. 
“It seems I had good reason to be,” she murmured quietly. 
“Aubrey... Listen I—”
She cut him off with a finger to his lips.
“Don’t bother Tae Tae. I’m petty, but I’ve never been pathetic.”
He grinned. 
“Never.”
The lady sighed and gave him a heated once over.
“What a shame.”
Then she strolled off with a rueful smile. 
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“You know what I don’t understand?”
You turn to find Min Yoongi leaning casually against a nearby column. He looked absurdly handsome as always, but his grin was just the slightest bit mischievous. 
“What don’t you understand, Mr. Min?”
The question was clearly a bait, but you were still fuming from your earlier encounter with Ms. St. Valentine and therefore desperately in need of a distraction. 
Yoongi pushed off the column and lazily made his way toward you.
“I don’t understand how a man pays a hundred thousand dollars for an evening with the most beautiful woman in the city, and then leaves her all by herself.” He leaned forward with a playful grin. “Perhaps you could enlighten me?”
Oh he’s good. 
You made a show of tapping your chin thoughtfully. 
“I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that one.”
Yoongi sighed and shook his head. 
“Couldn’t be me.”
You laughed then. He really was a delightful man. In fact, if you still had your heart, you might have considered letting him take a shot at it. 
Alas. 
You tilted your head speculatively. 
Surely there was no need to brush away good company...
After all, no one else is interested in spending time with me. 
“Since my escort is otherwise occupied, perhaps you could join me for dinner?”
Yoongi held out his hand. 
“I’d be delighted.”
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Taehyung wandered around the mansion for nearly forty-five minutes looking for his date.  
Panic was just starting to build in his chest when he finally spotted you
—at his private dining table with Min Yoongi. 
It was everything he could do not to storm over and yank the other man out of his seat by the lapels. 
Alright, Angel. If this is the game you want to play… then let’s play. 
Taehyung felt his anger rise with every step, but he ruthlessly suppressed any sign of it and instead adopted a charming smile. 
“Min, I didn’t expect to find you here. What a… delightful surprise.”
Yoongi’s expression was just a shade too satisfied. Taehyung could already feel his blood pressure beginning to skyrocket. 
“Yes, Ms. Park believed that you were otherwise occupied and invited me to share the meal with her.”
“I see,” Taehyung practically snarled. “However,” his gaze landed heavily on you, “since I paid for this table, I hope you won’t mind if I join you as well?”
You avoided looking at him up to this point, but now you were choking on your wine
“Easy there, Angel,” Taehyung murmured as he pulled up a seat extremely close to yours—so close that your thighs were nearly touching. 
Oh boy. 
Over the next several minutes Yoongi continued to flirt openly and you continued to smile prettily and pretend Taehyung wasn’t there (which naturally infuriated him). 
You should have known he wouldn’t let you get away with such behavior so easily. 
This was Kim Taehyung, after all, and if there was anything that could be counted on when it came to your shared history, it was that one (or both) of you was always ready to escalate. 
You had just offered the young Min heir yet another flowery compliment when you felt Taehyung make his move. 
Two warm fingers slid under the silken slit of your dress, coming to rest possessively over the soft flesh of your inner thigh. 
You squeaked and nearly spat up your drink. 
Taehyung leaned forward in fake concern, wrapping his arm around you as if to offer aid. 
“Are you alright?”
His hand continued to move significantly beneath your gown, but his face was the picture of innocence. 
You glared. 
“Just fine, thank you.”
A slow grin crept across his features as he began to trace soft intimate patterns over your skin.  
On the other side of the table, Yoongi tilted his head in genuine solicitude. “Are you sure?”
You nodded sharply. 
Satisfied, he resumed speaking about whatever it was he’d been saying—though you couldn’t understand a word of it at this point because the torturous strokes Taehyung was leisurely drawing over your thighs were moving closer to your center with each passing second. 
Yet you made no move to stop him. 
You should have. 
You should have slapped his touch away—rebuked him for his boldness—
But you didn’t. 
So he just kept nodding and smiling while Yoongi spoke, even as his fingers teased you with the maddening persistence of a man who knew very well what he was doing. 
You gasped aloud when he finally brushed the pad of his thumb over the thin cotton of your panties. 
“T-Taehyung—” 
“Hmm?” he turned to you, seemingly surprised by your attention (it was—after all—the first time you’d addressed him since the beginning of the meal).
“Could you pass me the salt,” you sputtered (hoping to cover the fact that you moaned his name involuntarily). Unfortunately, Taehyung seemed wholly aware of your ruse, offering you the salt shaker with a superior smirk.
You seriously considered stabbing him with a fork. 
However, before you could carry out any bloodthirsty plans, he pressed his fingers directly over your clit and your eyes rolled back in your head
“Oh my g—” you bit your lip stubbornly, “this lamb is just so good.” 
Sweet mother of macaroons, he is too skilled at this. 
You shoveled another bite into your mouth to cover your whine as Taehyung began to rub tight little circles over your sweet spot. 
Across the table, Yoongi nodded in blissful unawareness. 
“Yes, I agree, the lamb is excellent—very tender.”
Taehyung took advantage of the momentary distraction to slip beneath the fabric of your undergarment. 
Your fork clattered to your plate and your hand came up to cover your mouth as he began running his fingers up and down your soaked slit.
It was everything you could do to hold back your depraved whimpering. 
“I can’t wait to taste it,” Taehyung replied, flicking your clit in a way that guaranteed he wasn’t referring to the lamb. 
At this point Yoongi seemed to notice you were in some sort of distress. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and leaned forward. 
“Ms. Park, are you well?”
Taehyung chose that moment to sink his finger into the welcoming heat of your pussy. 
“Yes,” you almost sobbed, “I’m-I’m very well—thank you.”
“Excellent,” Yoongi smiled as he rose to his feet. “If you’re feeling up to it, perhaps you could favor me with a dance?”
Several attendees were already making their way to the center of the floor and the orchestra was beginning to play.
Your entire body, however, was vibrating like a plucked harp string and Taehyung was still brushing back and forth against your clit, driving you toward a release that promised to be explosive. 
There was no way—simply no way—that you would be capable of hiding it. 
“Yes! I would love to dance with you,” you squeaked, grabbing hold of Taehyung’s wrist frantically. The feel of him pulling out of your sopping core was nearly enough to have you coming right there. 
Thankfully, Yoongi remained utterly oblivious to the debauchery unfolding beneath the table. He took your hand and helped you to your feet with an eager smile (and it was a good thing too because your legs were still shaking). 
When the two of you reached the dance floor, you turned back for the briefest instant—
just long enough to meet Taehyung’s heated gaze as his lips closed over the finger he buried in your cunt. 
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Emotions were a funny thing. 
They impacted your judgement, affected your body, altered your behavior… 
And occasionally eroded your common sense. 
Sitting alone in the corner of the Governor’s ballroom, Kim Taehyung found himself experiencing a full spectrum of emotional side-effects. 
His hands clenched as he watched Min Yoongi spin you around the floor. 
His heart pounded every time he caught a flash of your shapely leg peeking through the slit in your gown. 
His blood boiled when you threw your head back and laughed at something the other man said. 
It was difficult to pinpoint which emotion was to blame for each of these reactions. There were certainly a number of them boiling over in his subconscious. 
Frustration—
I didn’t even want to talk to Aubrey! How are you acting like anything she said was my fault?!
Rage—  
Why is challenging people to duels illegal? I would fight Min Yoongi at dawn. I would fight Min Yoongi now. 
Jealousy—
You asked her to dance while my fingers were in her pussy. We are not the same. 
But perhaps the most persistent—the most overwhelming— emotion twisting through him was longing. 
You and Taehyung spent nearly four years apart, and he was so desperate to be near you—even then—that he resorted to childish pranks in order to remain a part of your life. 
He hadn’t recognized his actions or desires for what they were. He hadn’t realized what you meant to him...
But now, after spending the last several days with your hand on his arm and your laughter in his ear, he could no longer imagine spending another moment without you. 
Everything seemed to crystallize as he watched you laughing and dancing in the arms of another man. 
Uncertainty became clear. Complications became simple. 
And when he saw Min Yoongi’s hand slide dangerously close to the perfect swell of your backside—
Emotion became action.
“Mind if I cut in?”
It wasn’t a question really. Taehyung was already shouldering his rival out of the way and pulling you into his arms. 
“Taehyung,” you hissed, shooting the bewildered Yoongi an apologetic look over his shoulder, “what are you doing? This is so rude—”
“You’re absolutely right,” he agreed, sweeping you through the couples on the floor with practiced ease. “It is unpardonably rude to steal someone else’s date. He’s lucky all I did was steal you back.”
Your mouth dropped open. 
“Oh? So you finally remembered that I was your date?”
Taehyung’s grip on the curve of your waist became a shade rougher as he pulled you through the next turn. 
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means—” you stepped forward vigorously, nearly smashing your body into his, “—that you spent forty-five minutes with Aubrey Alicia St. Valentine when you were supposed to be having dinner with me!”
Taehyung growled and yanked you flush against him. 
“I spent forty-five minutes looking for you while you were giving away my table to Min Yoongi!”
The two of you sailed through the next several movements glaring at one another before you snapped again. 
“None of this would have happened if you had just told Aubrey St. Spray Tan that you were with me—”
“I did!”
“Instead, you let her call me a baby!”
“What let? Aubrey is a grown woman!”
“But—”
“And—you stormed off before I could say anything, so how would you know what I let?”
“You didn’t come after me!”
“Yes actually I did—but she grabbed my arm!”
“Really? Well what else did she grab?”
Taehyung abruptly realized how silent everything around you had become. 
People were staring—and not even discreetly— just full on staring with their mouths hanging open. 
Well that’s great. 
Taehyung’s hand closed around yours and you suddenly found yourself being marched across the dance floor at a breakneck pace.
“What are you doing?”
“Continuing this discussion in private.”
“We can’t just go somewhere private in the Governor’s mansion!” you sputtered, struggling to keep up with his larger strides. 
“You mean in my uncle’s house? Yes—actually we can—and we will.”
Taehyung proved to be a man of his word, dragging you past two security guards and into the roped off section of the manor with nothing more than a nod. 
The residential wing of the Governor’s home was beautifully decorated with traditional Korean artistic touches—all of which you were unable to appreciate while Taehyung was speed walking you through the halls. 
After a surprising amount of turns and archways, he yanked open an ornate wooden door with the words Reflection Suite written on a plaque above it in beautiful calligraphy. 
You almost giggled when you got a look inside. 
On the surface it was a tastefully furnished guest room with a simple cherry wood desk and a cozy double bed set in an elegant matching frame.
However—
The ceiling and one full wall were nothing but massive mirrors. 
Reflection suite indeed. 
The door slammed shut and Taehyung rounded on you with a stormy expression—though you weren’t waiting on him to fire the first volley.
“This is definitely going to get us in trouble.”
“I told you, I can go wherever I want in this house. It’s fine.”
“Then why did you take us here?”
“Because you were shouting—”
“I was shouting?! You were shouting I just—”
Suddenly your back was against the wall and Taehyung’s mouth was on yours. 
He hadn’t brought you here for this. When he grabbed your hand, he was only trying to get away from the crowds. He told himself that he needed privacy so you could talk—so he could clarify things. 
But the minute the door closed and you flared up again in all your magnificent rage, he was lost. 
He had to kiss you then. 
You were so lovely. So fierce. So wildly irresistible and he was too utterly smitten to fight the need to be near you—to be with you in every way that he could—for a single second more. 
The shock of Kim Taehyung pressing his lips to yours lasted about two full seconds—and then there was nothing but ravenous insatiable need. 
Finally. 
Everything was him. 
Everything was this—this sweet indescribable ignition of a desire that spanned years. You moaned eagerly against his mouth in wanton delight. After a decade of sparks, you were more than ready to burn. 
“Taehyung—”
His name poured out of you like a prayer. You needed him everywhere and miraculously he seemed to understand—
Not that he was prepared to be polite about it. 
“Where’s that smart mouth now, Angel?” he growled, tangling his hands in your hair to expose the tender column of your throat. “Nothing to say?”
Your only answer was a desperate whine as he spread hot-open mouthed kisses down the soft skin of your neck all the way to your collarbone.
Now was not the time for patience. He would be tender with you later. You absolutely deserved soft sweet caresses and slow leisurely love making and he was absolutely going to give them to you—every day if you’d let him. 
But not today. 
The minute his mouth encountered the barrier of your dress, he gripped onto the sides and yanked it down to your waist.
“You knew just what you were doing in the back of that limo, you little brat,” he hissed, taking one swollen nipple into his mouth and tormenting it with his tongue.
“Tae-ahhh!” Your back arched involuntarily in ruthless pleasure. 
“I spent hours—days even—wanting to get my hands on these perfect tits.” He licked the other nipple obscenely, squeezing the soft mound till it bulged through his fingers. “And you offered me the barest taste with that coy little grin, knowing it wouldn’t be enough—” 
He reared back and landed a firm slap on both breasts and you screamed.
It was so so good. 
“Look at them now,” he murmured, “so swollen and needy and mine.”
If any other man had said those words, you would have cut his heart out with a butter knife. 
But you had always belonged to this man body and soul, and to hear him acknowledge it so primitively felt like the sweetest vindication. 
“Yes!” you sobbed.
The affirmation only inflamed him further. He teased and fondled the tender flesh till you were shaking.
Your fingers curled into the soft waves of his hair as he indulged himself. He looked so ridiculously good sucking your nipple, moaning lewdly with his eyes pressed shut in cathartic bliss. 
“This is all your fault, Angel,” he groaned. “You just don’t know how to behave.”
His hands gripped the curve of your backside, lifting you right off the floor and into his arms. Your mouths fused together heatedly as he carried you to the bed, and you giggled against him when his words finally processed. 
“You’ve been saying that for years.” 
“It’s been true for years,” he muttered, pulling one of your legs up around him so he could grind against your cunt while you kissed. 
Your fingers tugged at the buttons of his shirt, tearing them off when they didn’t unhook fast enough. You waited too long to be with him like this to care about anything other than the feel of his skin against your own.
“Impatient, are we?” he chuckled, bringing his lips around to nip at your ear. 
“You’re one to talk,” you shot back, yanking the ruined garment right off his shoulder just so you could sink your teeth into it. 
Taehyung moaned loudly, snapping his hips against yours with an involuntary jerk.
“You really are such a brat,” he hissed, fisting his hands in the satin length of your skirt. “Let’s see how fierce you are with my tongue in your pussy—”
His words were so filthy and raw, yet they stoked a frenzied need in your belly like nothing you had ever encountered. 
“This dress is evil,” he snarled, fumbling with the zipper for a moment before switching to a more destructive tactic. “It has tormented me all night and now it’s in my way.”
The stitching proved no match for his resolve, and—after a few vigorous tugs—he ripped it apart from the slit on up, leaving you covered in nothing but the thin cotton underwear he had breached earlier that evening. 
After disposing of your shredded gown, Taehyung paused for a moment just to take in the sight of you. 
“What a perfect little angel,” he taunted playfully, snapping the band of your lingerie against your hips with a cocky grin. 
Then he brushed his nose right up against the sopping fabric and inhaled deeply. “You smell just like heaven,” he growled before licking you right through the cloth, “and you taste even better.”
The sensations twisting through your body were merciless. You needed more or you were going to shake apart. 
“Taehyung please,” you whined, pressing against him shamelessly.
“Oh a please?” he chuckled, throwing your own words from the first night back at you. “Who knew you had manners?”
You would have screamed in frustration, but he cut you off with an open mouthed kiss right over the wettest part of your panties.
“Perhaps I can make a good girl of you yet,” he chuckled, as you opened yourself wider to encourage him. 
You nodded frantically, letting out another moan when he yanked the flimsy little scrap of lace down your legs—smearing a line of arousal over your thighs.
“So messy,” he tsked, tapping his finger right above your knee where the naughty little streak ended. “What am I going to do with you?” 
Then he pressed his tongue over the shiny trail of slick and licked it right off. 
You gasped loudly and his lascivious smirk was almost beautiful enough to make up for all of the shameless teasing. 
Almost. 
"You want my mouth, pretty Angel?” he whispered, letting the words brush maddeningly against your folds. “You want me to feed on this sweet little cunt?”
Every cell in your body cried out for release. He already edged you under the table at dinner and now he was determined to unravel you entirely. You would say anything—do anything. 
"Please—" you whispered.
"Please who?" 
Normally you met his arrogance with a cutting riposte, but an entire evening of methodical torment had left you beyond desperate. 
"Please Taehyung,” you begged needily. 
He grinned. 
“That’s right, Angel. Kim Taehyung. Not Min Yoongi or any other pathetic trust fund prick that’s panting for a taste of this pussy.” His eyes fastened on yours significantly. “You belong to me.”
Then his tongue licked a flat stripe over your glistening slit and you sagged onto the bed in relief—only to be thrown back into oblivion when his lips closed over your clit. 
Your body arched involuntarily as a ruthless wave of pleasure tore through you. Your eyes and mouth flew open in a silent scream and it was in that moment you remembered exactly where you were. 
Underneath a giant mirror. 
The passionate woman staring down at you was nearly unrecognizable. Her body was littered with her lover’s marks. Her hands gripped feverishly into the sheets beneath her—-
And Kim Taehyung was kneeling between her thighs, suckling on her weeping cunt with obscene satisfaction. 
It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen in your life. 
Your hands reached down to tangle in his hair, using it for leverage as you ground against his face. 
Then suddenly his grip on your legs tightened and his tongue plunged roughly into your trembling core. 
“Tae—ahh oh my—I can’t—”
The sensation was so intense that your hips bucked violently. You could not keep still. You were charging towards an explosion and your body was shaking itself apart. 
The noises tearing from you were incoherent. Everything around you focused in on the juncture of your thighs where Taehyung was licking inside of you again and again until—
You shattered. 
And the force of it nearly bent your back in half. 
Delirious sobs poured from your lips as he worked you through it, letting the obscene flood of your cum soak his face. 
The sight of him slowly lapping at the release between your folds, was unspeakably erotic. He ran his hands in soothing circles over your skin while you twitched and fluttered back down from your high. 
Then he was kissing you again. 
It was softer this time, but you felt truly depraved—and instantly obsessed—with the taste of yourself in his mouth—on his skin.
You could barely understand this ravenous hunger. You’d just found relief, yet you were already reaching for more. 
Your hands snaked down and wrapped around his still covered cock and he hissed in ragged pleasure. 
“So eager,” he gasped, as you pushed him back against the headboard—but you didn’t have time to bother with his teasing.
You were gonna blow Kim Taehyung into space. 
He bit his lip when you yanked down his pants and boxers together, freeing his arousal with stunning efficiency. 
It was almost unfair to discover that his cock was every bit as beautiful as he was.
“Of course,” you muttered. 
The sultry smirk he shot you in return had your cunt flooding all over again.
“You think Min Yoongi has a cock like mine?”
“I don’t think about Min Yoongi’s cock,” you retorted, wrapping your hand around his length, “you’ve always been the biggest dick I’ve ever met.” 
“I knew you thought about my dick,” he groaned as you began to work up and down the swollen shaft. 
After a moment, his hand slid over your chin to grip your hair, drawing you forward till your lips were almost touching. 
“I wonder what this pretty mouth can do,” he whispered. 
You gasped against him and he smiled. 
“Do you know how often I pictured your lips around my cock, Angel?”
You mewled shamelessly and he growled, cupping your cheek as your hands continued to service him. 
“Do you know how often I imagined this perfect throat stuffed full of my cum?” 
His palm slid down to lightly grip the soft flesh of your neck and you shuddered against him with a needy whimper. 
“I know you could suck me so good, Angel. I’ve wanted it for so so long...”
Your mouth actually watered with anticipation. 
The desire to be good for him—to give him whatever he asked for—consumed you. 
Taehyung let his head fall back against the headboard with a groan at the first brush of your lips along his shaft. His hips rutted involuntarily as your tongue wrapped around the tip and you hummed with pleasure at his enthusiastic response. 
After a moment you slid him into the welcoming heat of your mouth, taking him in as far as you could in one stroke. His jaw dropped open and his entire body jerked forward. 
“Yes, that’s it, Angel—feels so good.”
His praise was addictive. 
You loved that you could bring him to this. You loved to see the haughty Kim Taehyung coming apart as you sucked him. 
It made you feel beautiful—powerful even—and you reveled in every second of it. 
Your eyes were starting to tear. His length began to throb and pulse against your tongue and you knew he was close—so close you could almost taste him—
Yet suddenly he was pulling you back and you whined pitifully at the loss. 
Taehyung chuckled, dragging you toward him till your dripping core slid across his cock.
“I’m not coming before I get inside that pretty little pussy,” he swore, working your hips over his sex till it was drenched in arousal. 
The crass words filled you with the fiercest, most incredible want and you clenched reflexively against him in response. 
“Is that what you want?” Taehyung whispered as he bore you back into the mattress, pinning both your wrists above your head. “You want me to fill your empty little cunt?”
You did. 
You wanted it so so bad. 
“Please.”
Taehyung gently lowered himself closer to you, resting his forehead intimately against yours as he lined up his cock at your entrance. 
“Are you sure, Angel? Because there’s no going back after this... If you give yourself to me, then you’re mine—and I’ll fight tooth and nail to keep you.”
“Taehyung, you idiot,”—a tender smile spread over your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck—“... I’ve always been yours.”
He swore violently—letting the slight tremble in his voice betray just how deeply your words affected him. 
Then his fingers tightened on the soft flesh of your hip and he filled you to the hilt with one delicious thrust. 
There was a moment—the smallest space in time—where your eyes locked together and everything seemed to suspend; a strange perfect calm before a monumental storm. 
Then your world caught fire. 
Taehyung drove himself into you with passionate fury, letting years of denial fuel the insatiable rhythm of his strokes. 
Every time he told himself no. Every time he held himself back—
Every bit of it burned away as you screamed his name. 
The feel of him was indescribable. 
You imagined it too many times to count, yet your dreams fell pitifully short of the visceral reality. 
He was bloomin’ magnificent. 
Your fingers clawed up and down his back, desperate to hold on to something while he pounded into your g-spot like an animal. 
“This tiny cunt is the tightest thing I’ve ever had around my cock,” he gasped and you whined needily at his praise. “Like it was made for me—” his hand came up to grip your breast, “like you were made for me.”
“Yes—”
Taehyung’s need seemed to amplify with every whimper and moan that fell from your lips. The feelings you sparked in him were fierce and unapologetically primitive.
He would go to war for you—build a fortress for you—fight a dragon if one dared come close. 
You were his. 
And he felt like a savage every time you cried out for more. 
Suddenly an unexpected movement in his periphery caught his attention.
He’d been so consumed with the extraordinary rush of claiming you that he’d forgotten—
This guest room was thirty-five percent mirrors. 
And now… he couldn’t look away. 
The sight of your bodies tangling together in headless bliss played out before him like a scene from his most debauched and forbidden fantasies. His reflection grinned back at him in fascinated ecstasy while his beloved nemesis lost herself in the pleasure of his cock.
Something dark and wild began to burn in his chest as he studied the lovers in the glass. 
“Look at you, Angel,” he whispered softly, “you really are perfect.”
Then he pulled out of your core and you whined bitterly in protest, chasing his body to rid yourself of the sudden unacceptable emptiness. 
“Still so needy,” he taunted, gripping your hips and flipping you on your stomach before you could even think to protest.
“I want you to watch that pretty angel in the mirror come on my cock,” he groaned, plunging back into you from behind. 
The new angle was somehow impossibly deeper and your body shook as another wave of pleasure overtook it. 
Your fingers clawed into the mattress for purchase as he pistoned into your trembling mound. 
Only Kim Taehyung could rail you like a whore while he worshiped you like a queen. 
He gave you a moment to adjust before drawing your body back against his chest. His arm wrapped over your stomach as he slowly eased your legs apart, unfolding the lewd tableau of your bodies joined together for the voyeuristic gaze of the glass.   
“Look at yourself, Angel,” he growled, mesmerized by the way your breasts bounced with every thrust. “Look at how well you're taking me.” 
Then his fingers slid down to rub your clit and you screamed. 
“Tae! Ah-ahh!”
The pleasure building within you now was violent. You were coiling too tightly, too fast—
“That’s right Angel. Take it all.”
Your eyes locked with his in the mirror for the briefest instant.
And then you flew apart. 
Taehyung threw his head back with a carnal moan as you clamped down around him. His body was hurtling toward its own release with reckless speed. 
“I’m close,” he panted, “where can I come?”
“Come inside me please,” you begged, and Taehyung’s eyes widened in frenzied lust. 
“That’s what you want? Huh?” his thrusts became rougher as he chased his relief, “You want me to fill this puffy little pussy with my cum?”
“Yes, I want it so bad—“ you sobbed. 
“Sweet Angel,” he groaned, gripping at your breasts as he pulled you tighter against him. 
Then he met your gaze in the mirror again. 
“I want everything with you; a home—a family—your body in my arms every morning when I wake up—” his voice trembled, “I want it all.” 
The raw vulnerability in his eyes nearly broke you.
“Tae,” you gasped softly, too overcome with joy to manage anything else. 
His mouth pressed hungrily against the curve of your shoulder. You could feel his cock throbbing in your core as he bent you forward, pounding into your sex with exquisite precision. 
"Stay with me, Angel,” he whispered. His thrusts became erratic as he neared his high. “I don’t want to live without you anymore.”
The glorious thrill of his words tore over your senses with euphoric brutality. Your walls tightened greedily around his cock and the taunt cord of pleasure finally snapped. 
He came with a broken groan, flooding the welcoming heat of your womb with his release. 
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“KIM TAEHYUNG!”
The sound of his name being shouted by the absolute last person in the world whose voice he wanted to hear woke Taehyung from a dead sleep.  
His eyes widened in panic as he began yanking pillows and covers from all over the bed in a frenzied attempt to hide—
The doors to his bedroom flew open with a resounding crash. 
“Jimin,” he squeaked, trying to look as casual as possible next to a giant pile of bedding. “What uh—what brings you here at—” his eyes darted to the clock on the wall, “—7:30 in the morning?”
Then he frowned. 
“And how the hell did you get past Jungkook?”
Jimin’s murderous expression broke momentarily to allow for a smug grin. 
“Kendra.”
Kendra Jackson was Jimin’s executive aide. She was fierce, capable, intelligent—
And insanely gorgeous. 
Taehyung groaned. 
Poor Jungkookie never stood a chance. 
To the surprise of absolutely no one, yet another newspaper landed on Taehyung’s lap.
KIM HEIR BRINGS NAUGHTY ANGEL HOME FOR CHRISTMAS
Underneath the headline was a picture of you and Taehyung (dressed in clothes you stole from Jin’s childhood bedroom) kissing passionately against the side entrance of the Governor’s mansion. 
One of your legs was wrapped around his waist and he was clearly grabbing your ass. 
“Ah… well you see the camera distorts everything from this angle—and-and the lighting is bad so it’s not really what it looks like—”
“Is that so? Cause it looks like you’ve got your tongue down my baby sister’s throat!”
“Okay—okay,” Taehyung massaged his forehead nervously, “so maybe it’s sort of what it looks like but—”
“I’ll kill you.”
“No wait—” he held up his hands to delay an already advancing Jimin. 
“Why should I wait?!”
“Because—”
“—I trusted you with the most important person in the world to me—”
“The situation is just not that simple.” 
“—and you grabbed her ass in public!”
“Admittedly not my finest hour.”
“So you tell me right now—”
“But you don’t understand it’s—”
“—Why the hell would I wait?!”
“BECAUSE I’M IN LOVE WITH HER!”
For a moment there was absolute silence. 
Then your head popped out from the massive pile of bedding. 
“Really?”
Jimin’s mouth fell open. 
Taehyung groaned again. 
“As usual, your timing is impeccable.”
You rolled your eyes, ignoring his comment.
“Are you really in love with me?”
“Of course I’m in love with you! What part of I want you to have my children did you not understand?!” 
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Jimin choked. 
“That’s not the same thing!”
“It is for me!”
A radiant smile lit up your face. 
“I’m in love with you too.”
Taehyung’s expression softened. 
“Angel I—”
Then you were kissing and Jimin swung around with a horrified shout.
“Oh! No no no—Come on!”
He stumbled out of the room, hands firmly clamped over his eyes. 
“This is not over, Kim Taehyung!” the scandalized young Park heir howled in exasperation… but there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 
Back in the bedroom, Taehyung shook his head at Jimin’s ridiculous caterwauling. 
“No, it’s not over,” he laughed, pulling you deeper into the comfort of his arms. “It’s only just begun.”
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Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. 
This baby took FOR-EVER to write. I started it in November and literally worked on it a little every day. 
If you enjoyed it— even just a tiny bit—please consider taking a moment to leave me some feedback. It is so incredibly uplifting and rewarding to hear reader thoughts and reactions to my work.
I promise to treasure every word like gold. It took a lot to bring this story to life. Your kind words would mean the world to me.
5K notes · View notes
jtrbluv · 5 months ago
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p.o.v. | myg
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summary: you were eight when you first met your soulmate. then you were eighteen when you realized that the boy who just got hired at the local record store next door, is also your soulmate. the issue at hand: you are the only one that knows.
pairing: yoongi x reader (fem)
genre: fluff, angst, soulmate!au, redstringoffate!au, college!au, high school!au
word count: 17.9k
warnings: PG-15, mentions of divorce, profanity, one year age gap (reader is 18, yoongi is 19), pg-15 food play (is that even a thing), yoongi works at a fucking record store
A/N: well damn. it's the way this is technically not even a week overdue but literally 7 or 8 months overdue... I'm so sry bae @koushiningg! i’d like to thank @allurence , @pjmsdior​ , and @bangtans-peaceful-piegon​ for beta reading!! y’all fr have my whole ass heart. and sorry in advance for any grammar mistakes or mistakes in general, this is unedited!!! 
— playlist.
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You were only eight years old when you discovered Min Yoongi was your soulmate.
Living in a society where love was predestined all thanks to a little red string on your pinky, made you inescapably curious. So from the moment you gained the ability to string words together into coherent sentences, you would press your parents on everything you could about the scarlet thread on your finger, garnering knowledge the more your questions frequented.
Maybe it was the fact that the foundation of where you grew up was constructed around finding “the one” in order to achieve peak happiness. It was absurd. Yet everywhere you looked you were surrounded with proof in the most palpable of forms.
And in the plainest or most kitschy of ways.
Honorable mention could be your older cousin orchestrating the most flashy of proposals—quite literally renting a billboard on one of the busiest highways that read “Honey, I rented a billboard! Meet me back at the Silverlake Hotel for a special surprise! Yes, it’s Johnny. No, your eyes aren’t deceiving you.”
Your parents were high school sweethearts—meeting at the tender ages of fifteen and staying attached by the hip ever since.
Your dad was the one who was able to see the string in their case. And he would describe to you how only one person out of the relationship can see it—how it appeared to trail off into a gradient of nothingness—and how the closer he had gotten to your mother, both physically and emotionally, the more visible it was between them. It was only until he had confessed to her that she was able to see the connection between the strings as well.
You took pride in having the ability to visibly see the string for yourself, and being the one to discover who it would be connected to one day. But what you didn’t realize was how soon the discovery was going to be made.
Especially not when you were seven years old, clad in a purple unicorn hoodie littered with sequins and jeans that were embroidered with flowers—your knees scraped and small fingers soiled with sand.
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“Are you okay?!” A small raven-haired boy shouted out, his small legs hastily sprinting to your side after seeing you face-plant into the wet sand.
Your thoughts are intruded as you noticed that the sand had a red thread trailing out the surface and into the air. The red thread emitted a golden sheen that you were able to see despite your hands carrying fistfuls of sand.
The boy that appeared to be around the same age as you was dusting the sand off of your sleeves and pants, dismissing your lack of response and how you were ogling at him with eyes that took up half of your face.
And then his hand brushed against yours.
“What are– ! Who are you?!” You exclaimed, ripping your hand out of his grasp only to gawk at how bright the string was glowing without any sand to obscure it.
“O–oh I’m sorry, you have sand all over you,” he tells you shyly, retracting his hands, as if you didn’t already know. “But my name is Yoongi, Min Yoongi.” He smiled sweetly with an evident gap due to the loss of his two front baby teeth. His small hand outstretched towards you, offering a handshake.
“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You timidly smiled back as you slid your palm into his, shaking his hand while unknowingly transferring all the sand onto it.
After you shake hands he rubs the sand on his pant leg, an adorable giggle escaping his lips as you mutter an nth number of apologies.
“Don’t worry about it!” He beams, his eyes turning back to an older, slender woman with a frown on her face motioning him to come towards her. “Sorry, but I think I should go back to my mom. She’s looking for me.” He said as he began to stand up.
“No, it’s okay! I don’t want you to get in trouble anyway.” You quickly told him as you continued to wipe your hands against your jeans.
He nods with a smile. “I’ll see you around Y/N. It was nice meeting you!” He beams as his little legs start sprinting in the opposite direction— the glow that surrounded the thread fading, the farther he ran.
You frantically waved your arms back and forth, exchanging looks one last time before walking back towards your family with only traces of a smile left on your face.
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Here you are ten years later, still equipped with the same amount of clumsiness and childish outlook as you did when you were eight, except now you were eighteen and about to graduate high school.
You hadn’t forgotten about your soulmate, but the inevitable reality of growing up shifted your mindset—your priorities were centered around applying to colleges and trying to keep your grades up despite having a terrible case of senioritis.
The red string on your finger was serving as a solid reminder that you haven’t seen your soulmate in years and weren’t likely to see him anytime soon.
As the years ticked by, it became harder and harder to recall and visualize his features—as if there was a ticking time bomb in your memory nerves, only a matter of time until all the memories would be blown into bits and you would be left with a shoddy visualization of the boy you once ran into. You wondered if you would even be able to recognize him now if it wasn’t for the fact that you were quite literally, bound together by fate.
Occasionally, out of fear that you would forget his name and his face, you’d set aside time to relive the moment in which you met him ten years ago at a beach that was hundreds of miles away from home and felt light years away from the present. You’d shift into the desired reality where you’d get to come in contact with the boy that had a gentle aura, sweet smile, and kind-hearted actions. You never were able to find men, let alone boys like that these days anyway.
Yet the security of knowing and seeing your soulmate still wasn’t enough for you. As much as fate was able to bind people together by string, there have been many instances where the string, well, was just nothing but a string. Soulmates never finding their other half. Or spending their lives with someone that wasn’t destined to be theirs. Even the rarity that fate makes a mistake and the two predestined lovers just simply don’t click like they’re supposed to.
Even though fate bounded you two together, to what extent was fate willing to go through for your paths to crossover again?
Hint: More than you think.
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You kick a pebble to the side of the road.
Letting out a sigh, you run a hand through your untamed hair, your feet taking you to a destination unbeknownst to you. You just need to get out of the house. Another glance at your sloppily scripted notes would leave your mind spiraling into an even deeper pit of frustration and laziness that you don’t have the energy to pull yourself out of right now.
In other words, you need caffeine.
You take a trip to the local coffee shop you are a regular at. The shop greets you with the soothing aroma of coffee beans—taking a moment to inhale as the scent wafts through the air. To your surprise, you see one of your good friends, Jisung, at the register. He’s in the middle of taking someone’s order until he gives you a sideways glance, having a double-take and waving to you after the customer finishes paying.
“Someone’s having a rough week, aren’t they?” He says under his breath, brows shooting upward as his eyes trail up and down your disheveled state.
You cross your arms, the cinch between your brows that hasn’t seemed to fade ever since the start of finals week deepening, “And somehow you aren’t because…”
“I’m smart and only took the classes required to graduate,” he reminds you, “the only final I'm concerned about is my dance final.”
“Well, lucky you,” your words trailing off as your eyes bore holes through the glass cabinet filled with an array of your favorite desserts. Maybe if you stare long enough, the glass will vanish and you can swipe a meringue without anybody noticing.
He smiles at your dismissive behavior. Your decision to make most of your schedule advanced placement and honors classes never boded well with him to begin with. He had warned you countless times about your demanding course load and how it was going to bite you in the ass later on. You both knew that he was right, but you also both knew that you weren't going to do anything about it. Per usual, Y/N.
“The usual?” He asks.
You nod, shoving your hands into your pockets to scrounge for your wallet, “Give me an extra shot of espresso.” You add.
He halts as soon as the words hit his ears, setting your cup down on the counter and turning back towards you with a quizzical look on his face, “Only if you don’t pull another all-nighter.”
“I swear I won’t!” you exclaim in an attempt to reason with him but to no avail, “I just need a little pick me up, because sadly, as much as I’d wanna pull another all-nighter, my body can’t take it.”
The crease of his brows deepen even more until he eventually relents— noticing the way your eyes are nearly half-shut and the bags are about ten shades darker than their usual tone, your shoulders slouched in your jacket that was already five sizes too big, “Alright, but I only believe you ‘cause you look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”
“A day and a half.” You correct.
“And a whopping five espresso shots later. And to think you call me the insane one.” He scoffs. You can almost hear the pout on his face if he wasn’t preoccupied with the espresso machine.
You let out a yawn, far too tired to banter with him right now. There was always plenty of time for that anyway. “Fine. We are both insane, actually no I think ‘stupid’ is a better word to tack on there, hence why we’re friends.”
He twirls around with a grin on his face, holding your drink in his hand as he places it on the counter. He's been only putting four shots of espresso the entire time he’s been making these drinks for you just because he doesn’t want to see the jittery aftermath and sudden caffeine crash that he knew could potentially occur. “Hey, it only took you three years to admit it.”
You roll your eyes, giving him a swat on the shoulder that he dodges, “Yeah, yeah… but hey, when are you getting out of here anyway?”
“I’m working a closing shift so I still have another hour left. Don’t worry about me, go home and finish up so you can rest. You have econ tomorrow right?” He asks while closing a lid onto your drink.
You sigh, more than ever wanting to slam your head against the counter, but you digress, “Yeah.”
“You’ll be just fine. Now c’mon get outta here and go back home.” He says while sliding your drink towards you and nudging you towards the exit.
“But I haven’t paid?”
“On the house.”
You set your drink down with a frown. “Han, no.”
He laughs. “Why not?”
“You already give me your employee discount every time I come here, just take my money.” You spit, shoving your dollar bills into his chest.
He giggles at your frustration, standing grounded despite you punching money into his pecs. God, this boy really needed to stop spending his days only dancing or going to the gym. “But I don’t want your money.”
You audibly sigh, not having a single ounce of energy to be arguing with him right now, but you yelp in exasperation, “Jisung!”
“Y/N!” He mimics your pleading tone in an obnoxious high-pitched voice that was octaves higher than your actual one, your hand plopping to the counter in defeat.
You grab his wrist, forcing his fingers open as you slap the bills into his palm and close his hand into a fist. You swiftly grab your drink and run out the door, momentarily pausing to peek your head through the door and yelling a “Thank you! Love you!” before scurrying out, fumbling with your coffee in the process.
He stares at the door incredulously long after you leave the premises, shrugging and shoving the money into the pocket of his apron.
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Your hands are wrapped tightly around the cardboard cup, clutching it close to your chest in hopes that the heat would emanate to the rest of your body as you continue to drag your feet along the bustling sidewalk.
A few stores down from the coffee shop is the record store that’s had its doors open for as long as you can remember. Memories of the adorable elderly couple who always greeted you replay in your mind as you step foot inside.
It always personally irked you that you rarely purchased anything while you were there. One of the main reasons besides the most obvious one: not being able to just buy one, is the fact that you didn’t even own a record player to begin with. And displaying it on your walls like some wannabe ’pinterest indie grunge 90s aesthetic’ inspired room (which you would definitely have if you weren’t broke™️) was out of the question, because having only two vinyls on your wall is very much lame yet very much something you would do.
As if on cue, your legs involuntarily take you to the first table that’s right behind the door— which you have grown to remember is always full of their latest shipments and newest presses. You always made a mental checklist of the records that you would consider buying in the future once you had the money for them. The list is embarrassingly long to the point where you’ve sadly had to make a note on your phone reserved just for the occasion.
Your eyes are practically glued to the Selena album that sits in the box that you don’t notice the man trying to greet you.
“Um, excuse me miss, hi, are you looking for anything in particular?”
“Oh, I was jus—“
You freeze dead in your tracks— the record you were holding in your hand dropping back inside the shelf with a thud. The string on your finger is gleaming brightly as ever. It’s striking. It’s blinding.
And it’s directly connected to the pinky of the man standing right in front of you.
It takes you a few seconds to register that you look positively perturbed, and that the only justification you have, isn’t good enough because of course, he can’t see the string. Your jaw is practically down to your knees, blinking vehemently at the man that was standing still with a polite smile on his face, your eyelashes could probably counteract as a fan. It can’t be. Maybe if you blink fast enough he’ll just disappear.
Never mind, he’s still here.
No, there’s just no way.
Surely, there’s no way my soulmate is standing in front of me. Again.
Coughing into your sleeve, you barely manage to slip out, “I’mjustlookingaroundbutthankyou!” You say, the words coming out all at once, as you take a moment to gasp for air.
He chuckles softly, the distinct and unfamiliar noise akin to dripping saccharine to your ears, “Alright, just let me know if you need anything, I’ll be back there.” He says while cocking his head towards the register.
You nod as he starts to make his way back behind the counter. You slowly turn back towards the shelf, mentally giving yourself a nice big slap to the cheek acting like that after finally seeing your soulmate after ten years.
Ten years… oh my god.
Pretending to flip through more records, you start to converse with yourself in your head, trying to formulate a plan as to what your next move should be.
Now, the smart and most obvious thing would be just straightforwardly telling him that you two are soulmates and that you can see the string connected between the two of you.
But you are not smart nor good at befriending strangers.
You swallow down some of the anxiety in your throat, grabbing the Musiq Soulchild record that just so happened to graze your fingertips. You’re nearly tiptoeing to the register, the man looking up at you with a smile as you timidly place the record on the counter and slide it towards him.
“Musiq Soulchild, good taste.” He says, smiling as he exchanged a delayed glance between you and the record.
“I appreciate it.” You manage to whisper, staring down at your untied shoelace.
He scans the record as you whip out your wallet and look for your card. If you were correct, you had enough money to pay for the record, and by the record means just the record alone.
In hindsight, you would know better than to buy, sorry scratch that, go bankrupt for materialistic things just because there was an attractive guy as a cashier. Luckily, you had the justification of this particular guy being your soulmate so the whole act wasn't that lame. Even for you.
The radio silence isn't deafening thanks to the soft 80s rock humming in the background. Your head naturally bobs along to the beat of the familiar Tears for Fears song that your dad used to play in the car all the time. The tune alone isn’t able to rip you out of your thoughts as you watch the hands of the man in front of you drumming his fingers on the counter to the rhythm of the song.
His hands, are gorgeous. Dare you say the prettiest hands you’ve probably ever come across on a man.
Y/N. Stop it.
The thought of you coming back to the shop only to "coincidentally" run into your soulmate sounded ludicrous—your wallet already screaming at you and your mind wracking itself just to come up with conversation starters. Since your time was running out and his unprecedented presence here is piquing your interest anyway, you say,
"I don't think I've ever seen you here before."
His fingers pause on the counter, his head perking up, "Oh yeah, I just got hired here last week."
"O-oh that's cool," you stutter, stumbling on your words and struggling to sustain the flow of conversation. He smiles at you while he rings you up.
"Are you from around here?" He asks.
You nod, "Yeah, I've known this place for as long as I can remember. I guess Mr. and Mrs. Yang needed some extra help around the shop. You're the first person to be employed under them."
He hums, "They told me that when I got hired, I guess there's been an influx of vinyl purchases lately and they've been expanding their inventory. They thought they could use some extra help." He informs you while sliding you the receipt—carefully bagging the record with his lip tucked in his mouth. Cute.
Picking up the receipt, your eyes immediately scan for a name, specifically the one of the man ringing you up, "Ah, that makes a lot more sense.” Aha! Got it.
Cashier: Yoongi
You can’t even stop the words that come out of your mouth next, “Oh, fuck.”
His head shoots up, “Sorry?”
You snap your mouth shut, “Oh, nothing! Do you happen to live around here by any chance? I don't think I've seen you around this area before."
He shakes his head, some of the ebony strands of his hair falling into his eyelashes, "I moved here in the fall for college actually. I've been meaning to get a job but I wanted to get adjusted to school a couple of months before trying to branch out."
"Wow, that sounds so exciting, congrats!"
Thank God I just turned legal.
It took nearly all your willpower to keep your eyes off of the suffused piece of string and the way it swayed along with his hand movements. Instead, you let your eyes focus on the curve of his lips and the pink flesh of his smile. Just merely looking at him made you feel effervescent—as carefree and light on your feet as the child you once used to be. The same one that genuinely believed they had a shot with Zac Efron when they were younger. And the same child that had their feet frolicking against the sands and their eyes looking past the limitless blue water—running into a boy with a youthful grin but manners beyond his age, and droopy eyes that haven't changed since you first saw him.
He slides you your bagged record. You look up at him to see the apples of his cheeks raised into an endearing close-mouthed grin. You mumble a small 'thank you' and turn around to exit the shop before he stops you,
"Wait, I don't think I caught your name?"
An enormous lump builds in your throat. After all this time, you've managed to remember his name for the sake of already knowing that he was your soulmate, but what about him?
"I–I'm Y/N."
"Well, hi Y/N. I'm Min Yoongi, but you can just call me Yoongi."
You nod, clutching the record even closer to your body as you smile at him in acknowledgement. "It's been nice to meet you Yoongi, I hope you like it around here."
He leans over the counter, resting his forearms on the wooden surface as he speaks, "I'm not too worried about that," his grin widens as he takes in your stunned expression, "see you around Y/N, take care."
"You too, Yoongi," you reply with a small smile, turning back around to exit the shop with an empty wallet but a content heart with flushed cheeks to match.
"Was that Y/N?" Mrs. Yang asks as she leans against the doorframe to the break room.
Yoongi grabs a couple of boxes to the front of the store to organize, turning around to face Mrs.Yang, "Yes, it was, she just stopped by to pick up a record."
"Y/N bought something?"
He pauses to turn around to his boss, "Yes ma’am, she just bought one right now."
“Wow, that’s a first.”
The box he had just nearly slips out of his arms, but he manages to lift his leg up to support the base. His brows scrunch in confusion, reflecting back on you telling him that you’re an avid visitor of the store, “Ah, really? She was telling me how she comes to the store all the time.”
"That is true, she’s stopped by all the time ever since she was young. She just never buys anything when she comes here," Mrs. Yang chuckles, fondly looking back at all the times where you would casually stroll in just to routinely talk to the couple and go on about your day without purchasing anything. They never minded it of course, always treating you as one of their own and even offering you meals at times.
"Oh, I see," he drags out the syllable—the cinch in his brows dissipates the longer his eyes drift towards the exit.
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Acquiring five hours of sleep is considered a feat to you. A trivial feat but a feat nonetheless. The duration of your R.E.M. would’ve been longer if it wasn’t for the thought of your soulmate keeping you awake. The fact that this fate-driven world could methodically bring you two together like this was something you wouldn’t have ever fathomed. At least not outside of the universe formulated by your deepest desires or the stories of other people’s firsthand experiences.
As much as the expectancy of being with your soulmate was so close within reach—nothing a few minutes of light jogging and a little sip of courage couldn’t withstand, you know you had many commitments you had to stay dutiful towards. You knew yourself enough to grasp that if you were to let your mind wander off towards everything of importance to you, you weren’t going to get anywhere or get anything done.
Most times, your self-control and habitual tendencies would swallow you whole—your heart’s voice speaking volumes louder than your mind. Your interaction with Yoongi caused your heart to transport back ten years in time, where you were able to mature quicker in the realm of romance than most of your peers.
The nights where you would go to bed thinking of him and wake up with the same visions of him corrupting your thoughts, were something you grew to gain control over as you aged.
After years’ worth of a hiatus, you dream of him again that night.
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With one final down and more left to go, you head off to your local library after school to get some more work done.
You stop by at the coffee shop first—needing your daily caffeine intake to get you through the rest of the day. You don’t see Jisung there, but you quickly rewind back to the morning when he had told you he was going to practice his dance final after school. So with a cup of coffee in one hand and a backpack strap in another, you retreat to the first empty table you see.
Laying all your belongings flat on the table, you slump in the wooden chair—your head rolling back and hitting the top of the backrest. You look fixedly at the ceiling, trying to outline your game plan of how you were going to tackle your schoolwork today. If you didn’t adhere to it (which you usually didn’t), at least you can say that you thought about it.
You let your eyes flutter shut, basking in the stillness of the moment and the lack of brainpower you weren’t being required to use.
“Y/N?”
You jerk in your seat, your knee striking against the edge of the table as your eyes shoot open only to see the last person you wanted to bump into. His face is hovering a couple of feet above yours as he’s standing right next to you. His close-lipped smile is the only thing that envelops your vision for a few seconds before you tear your gaze away, your cheeks turning embarrassingly hot.
You don’t even hear him asking if you’re okay, the voices in your head yelling louder and the pain in your knee growing substantially as the seconds pass. You can already envision the big barney-like purple splotch that was going to be there.
“Yoongi? What are you doing here?” You blurt out, wincing at the obvious question considering the fact that he too, is a student and can go to the library whenever he pleases.
“I have midterms this week, and the library at my school is packed,” he says, widening the distance between you two as he moves into your field of vision once more, “is it okay if I sit here?” He asks while pointing to the chair across from you.
“Of course.” You quickly respond, rubbing at the spot where you hit your knee while trying not to noticeably grimace in pain.
He sits down across from you, starting to take his belongings out of his bag and setting them on the table. “Sorry for scaring you, I didn’t mean to.”
You chuckle nervously, running a shaky hand through your hair, “It’s okay, I should be studying now anyway.”
He nods in return, giving you a small grin before proceeding to his own work.
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You’ve been staring at your laptop screen for half an hour now. Hoping that maybe if you stared long enough, the words would just magically materialize onto the empty word doc.
You purposely remained slumped in your chair, letting your screen obscure the view of his face so you could only see his eyes up to the strands of his tousled hair.
It wasn’t the first time you were forced to write an essay on a book you’ve never bothered to lay an eye on. Yet it was the first time doing so with your soulmate sitting right in front of you—your focus meter depleting rapidly as you continued to sneak glances at the top of his head.
After minutes of reading chapter summaries and trying to pick the best quotes that would correlate to the essay prompt, you sit back in the chair, taking a long sip of your coffee.
As you lean down to place your cup back on the table, you sideways glance at the man to see him yawning into his sleeve. He sniffles, the tip of his nose slightly pink as he blinks hard before proceeding to type on his laptop once more.
“Do you want some?”
“Hm?” His head peeps from the screen, his eyes peering towards you before glancing at the cup in your hand.
“Some of my coffee.” You reiterate, sliding the cup towards him.
He hesitates, his focus flickering back between you and the cup, “Are you sure?”
“I insist,” you assert, sliding the cup even closer to him, “We all need our caffeine.”
He chuckles, nodding in thanks to you before taking the cup into his hands and sipping into the contents. “This is really good.”
“It’s actually from that one place that’s a few doors down from the record store.”
“Ah, I’ve been meaning to try from there, but I just haven’t gotten the chance to.”
“I go there all the time, I’ll gladly vouch for the place.” You tell him as you step back to your seat.
He lowers his screen slightly, forcing you to see the entirety of his face— your focus meter blown to smithereens. “I guess you just happened to catch me on a rare day without coffee. I swear at this point, coffee is preeminent to water.”
Chuckling at his remark, you lower your screen as well, “Coffee is fucking amazing. I probably would've been knocked out cold by now if you hadn’t scared me.”
He scrunches his nose and you swear you almost audibly squeak at just how adorable he is, “I still feel bad for that, but I figured you would’ve been more mad if you knew that I just let you fall asleep there.”
“Well yeah, you’re not wrong about that.” You admit. You can hear him laughing on his end so you look up— the corners of his eyes are crinkled up and his gums are on full display. His shoulders are shaking as laughter escapes his lips. He’s beautiful. You can’t help but laugh along with him.
As your laughter fades, you sigh, “At this rate, I’m not going to get anything done. But is it bad that I'm not mad about it?”
“What grade are you in?”
“I’m a senior. I just turned eighteen.” Of course, you’d make that clear.
He hums in acknowledgement, “As much as I’d want to encourage you and tell you to keep going, it’d be hypocritical of me. If high school procrastination is harmful, then senioritis is just a lethal force of nature.”
You huff, “I couldn’t have said it any better than that.”
He fumbles with his jacket zipper, clearing his throat, “Do you need any help?”
“No, it’s alright. I know what I need to do… I just don’t feel like doing it.” You admit sheepishly.
He nods, his fingers start to drum in the table before he says, “Just take a nap then.”
A cinch forms in between your brows. “A nap? Here?”
“Yeah, I can wake you up,” he says nonchalantly.
You laugh at the thought of you potentially drooling all over the public desk, “I think I can manage without one.”
He clicks his tongue, his head tilting to the side, “It’s just a nap Y/N, it won’t hurt you.”
A nap does sound good. Especially after hearing him suggest it after saying your name. “I mean I guess, but I’ll only take like ten minut–”
“Y/N, cut yourself some slack. I can sense sleep deprivation when I see it.”
You gasp exaggeratedly, in mock offense. You hope he doesn’t sense the indication of worry there too because, shit, did you actually look as tired as you feel? “Wow, thanks.”
He chuckles, forcing another smile to come out of you, “The only two times I’ve seen you, you’ve had a coffee in your hand.”
“Well, maybe I just like coffee.” You quip. Okay, the eye bags aren’t that brutal today, thank God.
“And you just admitted to me that you almost fell asleep, but I woke you up.” Fuck I did, didn’t I.
You exhale deeply, raising your hands in defeat and surrender, “Fine Mr. Alarm Clock, choose a duration.”
“An hour.”
“An hour?” You stare at him incredulously as he smiles at your uptightness. “But I don’t want to keep you waiting here.”
“I was planning on being here all day anyway, it’s okay.” He reassures you.
“Fine,” you relent, “half an hour.”
“An hour.” He counters.
“Forty-five.”
“Deal.” He smiles. “I’ll wake you up in forty-five.”
You frown at him, using all your might not to smile at the way he was looking at you right now. With a deep sigh, you shut your laptop, scooting it to the side and crossing your arms on top of the desk. Shaking your head in dismay, you look back at Yoongi one last time.
“Forty-five,” he coos. You stick your tongue at him before placing your head in the nest you created with your arms, quickly drifting off to dreamland.
I don’t need to tell you what I was dreaming about, you probably know by now, you pricks.
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“Y/N.”
“Y/N.”
“Y/N.”
“Y/N. Wake up.”
Yoongi’s been trying to wake you up for four minutes now. His futile attempts at a hushed whisper yell are starting to piss off the people at the tables around you. He stills in his actions for a moment, not wanting to inconvenience anybody any longer.
Standing up, he leans down and reaches across the table, softly tapping on your sleeve, “Y/N.”
You groan, sliding your arm away from his touch as you fall back asleep once more. He sighs, looking languidly at the top of your head, considering another way to wake you up. But he refrains and taps your arm once again, not pausing this time. “Y/N, come on.”
“Hmph…” you groan into the fabric of your sleeve, your head slowly rising as you attempt to rub the sleep from your eyes. “Mmstop…” You mumble into your sleeve, squirming under the constant tapping on your forearm.
Your head shoots up from the crook of your elbow, your eyes still closed shut, “What?!” You retort loudly, the man sitting in front of you doesn’t react in the slightest as a chorus of shushes are all made towards you. You scratch your head, curling into yourself at the realization of what you had just done,
“Sorry, everyone.”
He blinks. “You’re awake.”
“I am.” You mumble softly, straightening yourself in your seat. It would be a lie if you were to say that you aren’t slightly alarmed to have his face be the first thing you see when you wake up. Then you soon remember that he had advised you to take a nap, in which you complied.
You’re far too drowsy to notice the way his eyes have been fixated on you this whole time, and it’s probably better that way. “Do you feel better?”
You nod, “I do.”
And with that, his lips curl into another close-lipped grin. “Go finish your essay so you can head home and sleep.” He advises, but by the way his mouth stretches into a big yawn afterwards, it seems like he’s in dire need of sleep more than you.
“Alright,” you reply monotonously, opening your laptop screen, the sudden brightness making you flinch, “only because you said so.”
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Hours pass by a lot quicker than you account for. Picking up your phone in what felt like potentially half an hour but realizing that nearly that plus a whole two hours had ticked by.
All you could clearly recall was at one point, you decided that you were in critical need to purge out the thoughts inside your head about the man sitting across from you. You were so inwardly embarrassed to be ogling over the man who was just minding his own goddamn business. After minutes of fumbling through your bag to find your earphones, and additional minutes just to untangle the mess itself, you narrowly succeed.
It was tremendously difficult for you to stay in work mode when your mind was in complete disarray. You’ve barely been given time to process that your soulmate is once again back in your life—not just for a scant amount of time that only allowed for the exchange of names, not without a single clue of where their whereabouts are, and not without knowing what they look like all this time. You had all this information now, along with the maturity and ability to solidify this interconnection once and for all. Yet your inner diffidence and unease hindered you from having the confidence to reveal yourself to him.
You told yourself you were going to work up to it.
Eventually.
He inhales through clenched teeth, “Crap, sorry for drinking so much of your coffee.” He says as he clinks the cardboard cup on the table, the lack of swishing insinuating that there was nothing inside.
You wave a hand dismissively, “No, don’t worry about it. You made me take a nap anyway, you need it more than I do.”
His lips twitch into a lopsided smile, conveying that he still felt bad regardless, “Have you made any progress?”
“Yes, actually. I finished that stupid essay and now I’m just studying for another final. You?”
“Just working on a thesis paper that I had two months to work on, so the usual.” He chuckles dryly.
You grimace at the thought of the situation, knowing that you have been in that same predicament far too many times, “That sounds rough, I hope you can finish it soon.”
He snickers, “Shit, I hope I can too.”
You can’t help but laugh at the comical expression that paints across his face— yet the sound of him swearing in that husky, subdued voice of his causes a pang in your chest.
“Are you heading out soon?” You ask as you slowly shut your laptop.
He leans back in his seat, “Probably, or else I might end up passing out on this table too.”
“See, I am not the only sleep-deprived student in this world, Yoongi.”
“I never said you were Y/N, knowing myself, I’m probably worse than you.” He assures you, clicking away at his keyboard.
As you start to pack, you notice him examining the label on the cup before throwing the empty contents into a nearby trash can, swiftly making it in one go. “We might not know each other that well, but if it was up to us, the whole education system would be abolished,” you say.
What you don’t notice is how his focus immediately zeroes in on you after saying that. His eyes conveying an unreadable expression along with the slight quirk of his lip and brow that have you frozen stuck in your seat.
“Hm?” You squeak.
“You flatter me Y/N.”
You sputter at his words. “Uh—“
“What the hell, are you psychic or something?” He teases, cutting through the one-sided tension with a hearty laugh.
You manage to hide your surprise, reciprocating the laughter while trying to reply back with another rhetorical question, “Would you even believe me if I said yes?”
“For the sake of us just meeting, I will not answer that.” He replies, receiving an audible gasp on your end which makes him fold over even more.
You roll your eyes playfully, chomping down on your bottom lip to stop the smile that threatens to split your face in half. At last you stand up, slinging a backpack strap over your shoulder, “Okay, I think I’ll head out now.”
He nods, tending to his own belongings, “Are you driving home?”
“Oh no, I live like a ten minute walk away from here.” You inform him.
“But it’s pretty dark out right now,” he halts in his actions, his head turning towards the window as it clearly displays the lack of sunlight replaced by a navy sky, “I can take you home if you want.”
You shake your head. “No, it’s okay, I don’t wanna be a bother.”
“I think it would bother me more if I knew that something were to happen to you,” he counters, shutting his laptop and turning towards you.
You open your mouth to respond but are unable to formulate a rebuttal. His eyes soften as he takes in your lack of reply, voice going softer than usual, which was already soft to begin with. Why did he feel this sense to be protective over you? He just met you, didn’t he? “I won’t push you if you don’t want to. I don’t know why but… have we ever met before?” he asks while scratching the back of his ear.
“I—,” You can’t tell him the truth. At least not now. And so you don’t, “I’m not sure we have.”
He nods, “Hm, alright.”
“You can take me home.” You suddenly blurt out.
His brows shoot up in surprise, “What?”
You chuckle nervously, smiling in hopes that you appear less suspicious, “You can take me home,” you reiterate for both him and yourself.
“O-oh alright,” he stammers, standing up from his seat.
You follow him out of the library, keeping a s