#idol!bts x best friend reader

[trivia-yandere]

Hi Hello

I was wondering if you could do the Idol!au version of "best friends!"? I LOVED this I would like to see from the perspective where Jungkook(or any of the other boys) is an idol and has a friend wanting to lose his virginity to an idol close to him, you know?

hello! yes I can! i like the concept, thank you for sending a request and being patient 💜some things have been changed, but overall it's similar

seonbaenim!

your group decides they want to shed the “good girl” image for your next comeback & you confide in your seonbae, Jungkook, in helping you do so. @momnomnom @sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @minshookie29

word count: 10.347

warning: alcohol intake, kissing, coercion, slight intoxication, smut, dub-con, manipulation, jealous/possessive behavior, naive reader, praising, dirty talking, unsolicited touching/groping, masturbating, oral sex, loss of virginity, fingering, licking, nipple sucking, unprotected sex, squirting,

non-idol version

“Thank you, seonbaenim. For offering to help me.” you bow your head to Jungkook, hands clenching with nervousness. “It’s an honor having someone like you helping me with my comeback.”

Jungkook offers a soft grin, the piercing on his lip glistening underneath the studio lights. “No need to thank me, Y/N. You don’t have to be formal, either. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

You swallow and nod your head. You don’t want to be rude - Jungkook has been an idol for years, far before your debut, and you held great respect and admiration for him. 

“Yes, we are friends.” you assure Jungkook - it was one of the reasons he insisted on helping you. 

You met Jungkook two years prior, him complimenting you once your group was done performing. He was someone you’d go to for advice when needed. He would show you songs he was working on, even if they were unreleased and you’d do the same.

Now, Jungkook had offered to help you with your comeback - he had listened to you vent to him about your struggles countless times. 

“So, let’s go talk about this comeback.” Jungkook claps his hands together. “You told me you were having a hard time?”

You nod. 

“What’s the aesthetic your group is looking for?”

You’re growing hot underneath Jungkook’s gaze.

“A more…mature approach.” you murmur, twiddling your fingers. “Break away from the innocent good girl look we’ve had.”

Jungkook nods and hums. “So, sexy.” he snorts when your eyes grow wide. “Your group is having a sexy type comeback. That’s good.” he nods his head. “Good girls gone bad? Girls gone wild?”

Jungkook laughs at the horrified look on your face.

“Relax, Y/N. I’m just teasing.” Jungkook assures. “What are you having a hard time with exactly?”

You inhale deeply then exhale. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself more than you already were, but Jungkook was here now willing to help you and this isn’t something you can ruin.

“I’m not sexy.” you respond. “My sisters are. They can channel it and I just can’t.”

Jungkook’s taken aback by your words. So you were feeling insecure about your lack of sex appeal. It’s then that Jungkook takes over your figure, not caring if you noticed or not. 

“You want my help with your sex appeal?”

Hearing it said like that makes you want to crawl in a hole and die. You hide your face with your hands, completely mortified. 

Jungkook chuckles. “It’s okay, Y/N. I’m sure you have amazing sex appeal-”

“Please stop.” you quip - you’d rather die than for him to continue to pity you. “Just forget I said anything.”

“Y/N. Look at me.”

The seriousness in Jungkook’s tone has you complying. 

“Anyone can be sexy.” You want to say that it was easy for him to say. For Jungkook, it was like a switch. You’ve watched the man on stage become an entirely different person than the sweet man who you’ve become close with. “You just need to bring it out.”

You nod your head, unsure of how to bring another side of you out.

“Your sister’s seem to be naturals.” Jungkook notes. “Why do you think it’s difficult for you?”

You want to scoff. You shared the group with your sisters, both older than you. Sexy did appear to come natural for them. You were often left in their shadow and was nothing but their younger, shy sister. In interviews, you’d allow them to speak for you often, not wanting to make a fool of yourself if or when you said the wrong thing.

Jungkook waits for a response. He’s sure he understands. He was an observant man, after all. He’s watched the way you’ve grown in the last couple years, watching you on stage he was sure you were often in your own head and afraid of messing up. Your mistakes were light and easy to fix, but that didn’t mean you weren’t often criticized for it. He’s watched the group's music videos and it was then did you shine - but it was a music video, meaning you were also edited that way.

“Y/N?”

You blink. You swallow the lump in your throat and before you can apologize, Jungkook speaks once more. 

“Are you a virgin?”

Jungkook is positive he knows the answer already, but he wants to hear you say it. There had to be a deeper reason as to why you were struggling with this when your sisters weren’t. It could be because they were older, yes, and had more experience - but you were an adult, too. 

Jungkook gets his answer when you visibly stiffen. He licks his lips and offers you a smile. 

“Maybe that’s why you’re having a difficult time in appearing sexy. We’re friends, right?” Jungkook scoots his chair closer to you. “What have you ever done with a man?”

You feel a shudder run up your spine at his words. You’re unsure how to respond, far too humiliated to be speaking with your seonbae about your sex life - or lack of.

“Not much.” you murmur, a slight squeak in your voice. 

“Have you ever touched a man?” Jungkook doesn’t want to push you over the edge, he has eyes. He notices the way your foot is slightly shaking with nerves. However, there’s something inside of him - a new interest, maybe? - that wants to know. “Has a man ever touched you?”

You shake your head, eyes glancing away from Jungkook’s intense one. He was going to think you were pathetic, probably laugh in your face about your lack of experience. 

“That’s good.” Jungkook says, even surprised with the tone in his own voice. Your eyes snap to him, wide and shocked. He lightly chuckles at your reaction. “You can learn, Y/N. But no one can ever make you feel sexy until you feel it within yourself.”

Jungkook leans back into the chair. His eyes roam around your figure. You’re dressed comfortably, but he knows the figure you have beneath it. Again, he’s watched you on stage in the outfits the stylist put you in. You had whatever it took to be sexy - it was your own self holding you back. 

“How about we discuss this over dinner. I’m starving and we’ve been at this for hours now. You have to be hungry, too.” Jungkook gives you an assuring smile - a smile that tells you that this is safe. To trust him - and you did.

You’ve never been to Jungkook’s home before, and when he suggested dinner you thought it would be some form of takeout at the studio. “I have food that we can heat up at my house.” Jungkook had told you, and now here you sat, legs crossed as the both of you enjoyed the ramen he had prepared.

“So, what do you think you need to do to feel sexy?” Jungkook asks. He pours the wine into both glasses, lightly pushing yours towards you. 

You smell the wine before tasting it. It’s a bit strong, but you don’t want to appear rude and decline it. “Maybe, look the part?” you respond after a few moments. 

Jungkook nods. He changes the subject, asking then about how you were adjusting to being an idol - even if it has been over two years. With each passing conversation, he’s assured to refill each of your wine glasses until he notices the slight glossy look in your eyes.

“Look.” Jungkook speaks, facing you towards the tall mirror on his wall. He’s directly behind you, hands on your shoulders. “Your group has potential, Y/N. I know this comeback would be like no other.” Jungkook is sure of himself, as well, because this time you had him helping you. “This time, you’ll be the star. Not your sisters.”

You laugh with a shake of your head. You felt more comfortable and maybe that was the wine’s doing. Your jacket had been left somewhere in Jungkook’s living room, and now you’re left in a short sleeved shirt. 

“Why are you laughing? You don’t believe me?” Jungkook squeezes your shoulders gently. “Follow me.”

Jungkook turns away from you face and you stumble just to follow him. He takes you down a long hallway until he stops in front of a door. “This is my room.” he says as he opens the door to it. It’s simple, nothing too extravagant or over the top like you assume it would be for an idol with money like him. “Have you taken your concept photos yet?”

You shake your head. “It’ll be tomorrow, actually.” you respond.

“Good.” Jungkook murmurs. “Sit down on my bed.”

You do as you’re told. It feels weird being in his bedroom, but you don’t allow yourself to overthink. Jungkook goes to his closet for a moment and returns with a camera in hand. He hands you the camera after turning it on. 

“I’ll have you take pictures of me first.” Jungkook says. “Just so you can see what I do and replicate it, okay?”

You nod your head. Your palms are sweaty and you’re frightened more than you were going to somehow drop and break such an expensive camera into pieces.

Nonetheless, you  do as Jungkook tells you. You snap the pictures, all of which he nails. With each picture, he explains what you’re expected to do; “You have to look directly into the camera, don’t shy away.” , “Don’t be afraid to show some skin, either. You aren’t a child.” 

“Ready?” Jungkook asks once the both of you had gone over the pictures you’ve taken.

Your mind swirls but you can't back down now. “Ready.” you nod.

Jungkook snaps a few pictures. You’re stiff, posing as if you’ve never been photographed before, but that was your nerves talking to you.

“Do you want this, Y/N?” Jungkook asks after around 10 minutes. Somehow he managed to pour even more wine, this time you’re gulping it down without a care. You need your nerves to be calmed. “You have to show me you’re serious. You don’t want to live in your sister's shadows forever, right?”

You take a deep breath and shake your head. You didn’t want to be known as the shy one - the one that no one bothered to look at. You couldn’t waste any of Jungkook’s time - he didn’t have to help you, but he was. 

Jungkook watches through the lens of the camera the way it happened - the switch that turns on and had you changed from the shy girl you were, to the girl he knew you could be. It started with your eyes - the way you looked right at him through the lens, not faltering once. Your eyes - sharp, seductive and fierce.

Jungkook licks his lips, lowering his camera to look directly at you. He takes a few steps closer to your position onto his bed, dropping his camera not far from you. On the ground sat the half empty wine bottle and your glass. He proceeds to pour some more in and take a few sips.

“More wine?” Jungkook asks cooly with a raised brow. 

You nod your head without thinking, reaching your hand out to grab the glass. Jungkook dodges your attempts and instead, raises the glass above your head. “Come here, Y/N.”

You do as you’re told. Your mind is attempting to focus on everything right now, but you were already tipsy. You rarely drink - especially wine.You always assumed that it was an exaggeration when people said they can get drunk from wine - but with the way you are now, you know it's anything but an exaggeration. 

You’re at the edge of Jungkook’s bed now, meeting him where he wants you at. Your knees are pressed firmly into the mattress, hands placed neatly in your lap. Jungkook thinks you appear cute; obedient.

Jungkook places a hand on your cheek, his thumb tracing your lips. You feel hot at his actions, your mind hazy. “Put your head back.” Jungkook murmurs his command and again, you comply. Your neck is exposed to him. It’s bare from any blemishes and Jungkook thinks how you’d look with marks on you - purplish bruises and teeth marks, maybe even prints from his own hands around your neck.

“Open your mouth.” Jungkook says breathily. 

You gulp, but comply. You grunt when Jungkook's thumb dips inside of your mouth and presses it onto your tongue, slightly bringing it out. Then, he removes his tongue when he has you where he wants to. Your eyes watch as Jungkook pours the wine into your mouth slowly, the wine sliding onto your tongue and down your throat ever so slowly. Jungkook watches intently when a bit of the wine falls from the corner of your mouth and trails your neck just as slowly. 

You swallow the wine once Jungkook is done, your tongue licking the corner of your mouth and exhaling.

Jungkook drops the wine glass onto the floor by the bed where it was prior. He leans down close to your face, his breath tickling your skin. “Have you ever kissed a man?”

You nod slowly. It was only a peck - a kiss from a classmate - and that was the last kiss you’ve had. You were an idol now and couldn’t focus on dating.

“I see.” Jungkook hums, his lips pouting slightly. “So I suppose you don’t want to kiss me then.”

You released a low gasp. You blink a few times, unsure of what’s going on. You couldn’t have been this drunk, surely.

“Seonbaenim…” you murmur.

“I don’t think you want it enough, Y/N.” Jungkook tells you. He’s so close and your eyes have a difficult time focusing on him. “I’m trying to make you the true star I know you can be.”

“I do.” you exclaim, your hands clenching into your lap. You don’t want to upset him - to make Jungkook feel as if you were taking his assistance for granted.

Jungkook leans away from you and takes back his camera. He nods at you. “Prove it to me.” is all he says.

You glance at the camera in his hands and then up at him. He raises the camera once more, ready to begin snapping pictures. 

Maybe it was the wine getting to you. You didn’t have a lot of thoughts screaming at you to stop you from removing your shirt. You throw it aside, your eyes staring at the lens to reclaim the prior sex appeal. 

Jungkook doesn’t notice his breathing increase - not until you go to remove your leggings. It wasn’t as if you wore lingerie - Jungkook understood that this isn’t what you were expecting to do. But your appearance is captivating enough, a lacy bra with matching panties, both black. 

You do countless poses and Jungkook allows you, not once speaking. Your first pose was pushing your knees far apart and pushing your chest out. Your hands move slowly up your chest, a slight tilt to your head.

Jungkook doesn’t realize how close he’s gotten to you until his knees hit the mattress. Now, you’re on your back, slightly arching. Your eyes are on the camera and your breast is pushed towards the ceiling. You appear to be teasing him, Jungkook thinks, the way your fingers hook beneath your bra strap teasingly, as if you were daring to push them down.

“Seonbaenim…?” you murmur. You haven’t heard the camera shutter for the last few minutes. “Did I do good?”

Jungkook slowly smiles and nods his head. He presses a knee against the mattress, allowing himself to come closer to you. “You’re a good girl, Y/N.” he tells you, and your heart swells at the compliment. “Come here.”

You lift from the mattress as if in a trance. Jungkook lifts your chin with his index finger, his dark eyes staring into your own. 

“Tomorrow, we’re going to try the song again, okay?”

“Yes.” you nod.

“For now…” Jungkook leans a little closer, a few inches away. “...kiss me.”

You gulp. Opening your mouth to respond.

“It wasn’t up for debate, Y/N.” Jungkook interrupts before you can speak. “I need to know you’re serious about this. I won’t have you wasting my time.”

Your eyes widen and without thinking, you kiss Jungkook. Jungkook deepens the kiss, wanting nothing more than to hold you close to him. The thought of flipping you over runs through his mind, to grind into you until you’re begging him for more, but Jungkook refrains from doing son.

“I’m going to make you a star, Y/N.” Jungkook speaks once the kiss ends. “This comeback will be your moment. I’ll be sure of it.”

There’s something sinister about the way you allow Jaehyun to touch your head, Jungkook thinks. He pats it playfully, gently rubbing it. There’s a smile on his own lips as he greets you with a warm welcome.

What made it even more sinister to Jungkook was the way you appeared. You were smitten by his older friend. If this was a show, your eyes would’ve turned to the shape of hearts and a pink glow wouldn’t shine throughout you.

Jungkook leans back into his seat, tongue in cheek. With a tilt of his head, Jungkook has had enough - especially when you giggle at something Jaehyun has said.

“I don’t have all day.”

Your head snaps to Jungkook and quickly you bow and apologize. As you were arriving, Jaehyun was leaving, having visited Jungkook at the studio for a bit. He and you spoke, him giving you a greeting as you arrived.

Jaehyung hums as you sit besides Jungkook, the man's stare hard as you do so. Judging by your appearance, you were cowering besides the man.

“I’ll see you later, hyung.” Jungkook says to Jaehyun, dismissing his friend. “We have work to do.”

Jaehyun nods, his eyes flickering to you for a moment. He leaves without another word, the door shutting behind him quietly. 

“Do you take me for a joke, Y/N?”

Jungkook’s tone is vicious. It causes you to flinch at the sudden change in atmosphere. 

“Seonbae-”

“Do you want to fuck him?” questions Jungkook, his voice changing to a softer tone. You swallow, eyes wide. “You want to lose your virginity to him? After I’m putting in the work to make you shine?”

“Seonbaenim, I don’t understand-”

“No, you don’t.” Jungkook snickers. “Don’t waste my time, Y/N. I’m the one that’s helping your comeback. Not anyone else.”

You nod your head, eyes glancing away from Jungkook. He looks visibly upset, as if he was scolding a disobedient child. 

Jungkook sighs. “Look at me.” he tells you mellowly. His hand places itself on your own and gently squeezes. “I’m sorry for being so harsh on you, Y/N. You know I believe in you and your talent, right?”

You nod, not really sure if he did or not - but you didn’t want to disagree with him.

“I’d hate anyone to take advantage of you, Y/N. I know how men are. Especially in this industry. You’re a sweet girl.” his thumb rubs against your knuckles. “You have a certain look on you, you know?”

“What do you mean?” you question. Your eyes finally meet him once more. “Is that a bad thing?” you were beginning to feel self-conscious.

“No, of course not. You’re my good girl.” Jungkook squeezes your hand, lips forming into a warm smile. There’s something bubbling inside you at Jungkook words. “You have an innocent aura surrounding you. People would want to take advantage of that. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I see.” you murmur, slowing nodding. “Thank you, seonbaenim.”

“Jungkook.” Jungkook corrects. “You don’t have to be formal with me. We’re friends.”

You smile and Jungkook then releases your hand. “Okay. I’ve listened to your sister's part of the song and they’re good.”

You bite your lip. 

“That doesn’t mean yours isn’t good. It is. But…” Jungkook trails off. “I think you should give me more passion. Be more…sensual.”

“I-I can do that.” you shake your head to agree with him. 

“Okay.” says Jungkook. He points his head to the side. “You wanna record it?”

“Yes.” you inhale and exhale a few times as you enter the small room, the microphone placed in the middle of the room. You grasp the headphones and place it over your head. 

Jungkook’s eyes connected with yours as he played the instrumental. Your voice is good - you’re a great singer. But you needed to be more than a great singer to outshine your sisters. Initially, he wasn’t here to help you outshine them - but he promised you that you’d be a star - and Jungkook never went back on his promises. 

Jungkook turns the music off with a click. “More passion.” he says. “Again.”

Your voice hits his ears once more as he plays the instrumental. It’s melodic and he’s positive he can hear it again and again and again.

“Y/N.” Jungkook turns off the music once more. You visibly stiffen. Jungkook was a perfectionist naturally and he didn’t care how long it took for you to get it right - he would assure you did. “Sing to me. Sing as if I’m in there with you and be my good girl, okay?” Jungkook advised with a sigh. “I need to hear the sensuous tone in your voice.”

“Yes.” you murmur.

Once more, Jungkook starts the music. You close your eyes this time. Jungkook’s eyes made you nervous - they were piercing right through you. 

You began to sing, your mind traveling to the night in Jungkook’s bedroom - a night you never brought up to anyone, not even him. It was a night you wish to forget - the way you’ve acted towards him could be seen as disrespectful, even if he didn’t appear distraught by your action.

Your eyes snap open when you feel hands on your shoulders. The instrumental doesn’t stop, and neither do you. Jungkook is directly in front of you, hands on your shoulders. Those same piercing eyes are watching you, as if waiting for you to mess up.

You continue to sing just as Jungkook wants you to. He travels behind you, so close that there’s almost a pause in your singing - but you don’t stop. The hands on your shoulders begin to roll down until they’re cupping your waist. 

There’s a slight moan in the words you sing, and it’s exactly what Jungkook wants. He doesn’t stop there. His lips place themselves on your neck, his hands pressing you against him firmly. You continue to sing and Jungkook can see you through the mirror on the far right of the wall. Your eyes are closed and gently your body relaxes in his embrace.

The song is ending, Jungkook notes, and it’s the ending that he needs you to be the most sensual. Your skin is smooth beneath his palm. It works its way up your shirt and onto your covered breast. He grips it in the palm of his hands, the melodic moan music to his ears.

“Perfect.” Jungkook kisses the nape of your neck as you finish, your breathing heavy. He releases your breast and takes a step away from you. “You did amazing, my good girl.”

“Are you fucking him?”

You nearly choke on your water when the words hit your ears. You manage to swallow it somehow and your eyes turn to your manager. She’s leaning against the nearest wall from you, her glasses tilted down on her nose.

The room is silent, the conversation your sisters held with one another falls flat as their eyes cast between you and the manager.

“Why do you assume that?” your eldest sister says once you don’t respond, a horrified look upon your face.

“Jeon Jungkook has promoted this song countless times on all platforms.” your manager steps forward as she speaks. “He made a dance challenge to the song that now has thousands of people following suit. He speaks fondly of you and just you, Y/N. So please answer the question.”

Your group's comeback has officially begun, the song you had once struggled with has been released along with a music video. It’s only been a month since Jungkook and you recorded the song in the studio, and a week since the release of the song - but it was an instant hit. You recall watching the views go higher and higher alongside your sisters as did the following count on the social media platforms you two shared. 

Jungkook kept his promise on promoting not only the song, but you, as well. In interviews he spoke of how hardworking you were and how the song was one of his favorites, he participated in dancing to the song to promote it even further - you were becoming the star he said you would be. Now, your group became someone people wanted to follow and interview - you at the front of it all.

“They’re just friends.” your elder sister scoffs. “It’s nothing to look deeper into.”

Your eldest sister nods her head in agreement.

Your manager wasn’t convinced in the slightest. “Whatever you’re doing with Jeon Jungkook…” your manager eyes you for a moment, almost as if she didn’t believe a word your sisters said. “...Keep doing it. The song is doing amazing and we have people lining up for interviews.”

Your eldest sister is taken aback by the sudden change in tone. “You make it seem like Y/N is being friends with Jeon-ssi for fame.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. You were becoming humid with the topic being about you.

“Jeon Jungkook is a big name in the industry, hell, globally.” your manager flips her glasses onto the bride of her nose. “Having a co-sign from him is a big deal. Don’t mess it up, Y/N.”

Your manager doesn’t wait for whatever response you or your sisters would give. She strolls out of the room. You’re left with your sisters, and now they fully turn to you. 

“What was that about?” your eldest sister asks. “You’re just friends with him right?”

“Of course.” you murmur, unable to look her in the eye. “He’s helped me so much.”

You know when your sisters want to say something - anything - but hold back. It’s in their eyes. They want to question you more about Jungkook and what your manager knows, but they don’t. 

“Okay.” your eldest sister nods. 

“We should probably get some rest. We have a hectic day tomorrow with-”

You lift from your seat and bow. “I’ll be going to my room.” you murmur.

You feel their eyes upon you, but you don’t bother to wait. Tomorrow was a big day and a hectic schedule neither of you were accustomed to. You didn’t take Jungkook’s promise that seriously - but it was as though he opened doors you never knew were possible.

You were meaning to meet with Jungkook tonight. His own schedule had gotten busier within the last month, and he had invited you over tonight of all nights for a celebration of sorts. “Soon, you’ll be on top.” Jungkook told you over the phone. “And maybe you can even make your solo debut.”

You were outside his home within a half an hour, pressing in the passcode he gave you. His home is quiet as you enter and you wonder what he was wanting to do tonight. You remove your shoes at the door and step deeper into his home, removing your jacket and placing it on a chair where you saw one of his own.

You hear light music coming from down the hall - his bedroom. You venture closer to the room, noticing the door slightly ajar. You peek your head through to greet Jungkook, after all he was expecting you.

You freeze in your tracks, your eyes slowly growing wider.

Jungkook sits at the edge of his bed. It wouldn’t have surprised you if you didn’t catch him masturbating - your eyes focusing on the way his right hand engulfs his cock entirely, jacking himself with such need. You can now hear that he’s moaning through the music, being closer than you were from down the hall. His eyes are closed and his head slightly tilted to the side.

“Y/N…”

Your breathing stilled at the sound of your name. Did he know you were there, watching like some type of creep?

“Seonbaenim…?” you say from behind the cracked door, and at the sound of your meek voice, Jungkook’s eyes snap open. You’re taken aback by the look in his dark eyes, and in that moment you realize that he didn’t know you were there, but instead had moaned your name.

Your feet react before your mind does. You take a few steps back until you hit the wall, startled to be caught watching him. You begin to sprint down the hall and towards the living area, falling to the nearest seat.

You hear the music stop and footsteps sounding, coming closer to you with each passing step.

“Y/N-”

“I’m so sorry, seonbaenim!” you cry, your eyes not looking his way. You’re humiliated and even more disrespectful for walking freely through his home. 

“Y/N-”

“I should have told you I was coming before I did-

“Y/N!” Jungkook hisses, his voice echoing off the walls of his home. You’re immediately silent, heart racing. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.” he suddenly murmurs, lowering his tone to not further startle you. You feel his presence in front of you, but you’re far too humiliated to look at him. “Look at me.”

You have to remind yourself to breathe when you do. Jungkook’s lips turn to a small smile. “That’s my good girl.” he tells you. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

You don’t respond, far too consumed with your thoughts to do so.

“Hey,” Jungkook squats down to face you fully. “congratulations on the success of your song. It’s charting higher than songs from veteran groups.”

“Thank you, seon-” you stop yourself. “Jungkook.” you correct, understanding that he prefers you to call him by his name. 

“My good girl…my name always sounds sweet when you say it.” Jungkook offers a hand, waiting for you to take it. When you do hesitantly, he gets from his squatting position and lightly tugs you. “Come, I want to show you something.”

There’s an anxious feeling running through you when you’re led down the hall once more and back to Jungkook’s room. The lights are dimmer this time as you and he enter. He closes the door behind him and releases your hand. 

“I want to show you these.” Jungkook steps away from you and towards a bedside table. It’s a black folder that he opens and shows you.

Your hands take the folder, your eyes scanning over the pictures displayed inside of it.

It’s you.

It’s the same pictures Jungkook had taken a month prior, each picture becoming more vulgar as you skim through. Your hands are trembling, unsure of how you truly feel about seeing the pictures physically in the palm of your hands.

“Jungkook…”

Jungkook eyes your reaction. “Yes?”

You aren’t sure what you want to ask him. Thousands of questions run through your mind - why did he print the pictures out? Why does he want to show you? Has he shown anyone these pictures?

“Y/N.”

Your eyes snap up at him, your trembling hands coming to a halt. 

“You’ve done good.” says Jungkook. “Your concept photos came out amazing and it’s because of these.” he points to the folder in your hands. “Your group is doing amazing because of you.”

“You…think so?” you question in awe. Of course, the photos you’ve taken weren’t the same as these. The eyes you were giving the camera - or Jungkook - were those you’d see women give to men in the bedroom, not a photographer. You were nearly naked and these photos were similar to something from a porn magazine.

“Of course.” Jungkook’s hands are swift. He touches both sides of your face. “Look how beautiful you look in these. The song is charting now because of how beautiful you sounded.”

Jungkook’s compliment has your heart swelling. You close the folder and nod your head, a small smile forming onto your lips.

“My good girl.” murmurs Jungkook, his thumb tracing the curve of your lips. “You want this, right?”

Jungkook’s words have a deeper meaning - one you weren’t sure about fully. Did you want this as in the fame that was quickly sneaking up on you and your group - the stardom he promised you? Or did you want something more that had to do with him personally?

“I want to help you, Y/N. I want to make you bigger than what you are now.”

“Bigger?”

“Bigger.” Jungkook nods. “I want you to be like us. We’ve sold out tours and traveled all over the world.”

You laugh at his words. It’s kind for Jungkook to want more for you, but even you know that’s not realistic. “I don’t think we can be as big as…BTS. Or you alone.”

Jungkook hums. “With you talking down about yourself, of course not.” Jungkook says. “I promised you that you’d be a star, right?”

“Yes.”

“You believe in me, right?” Jungkook drops his left hand from your face so that he can grasp the folder. He places it on his bed before turning back to you. 

“Of course I do.”

“You trust me?” Jungkook questions. “You have to trust that I know what I’m doing.”

“I do trust you.”

Jungkook simpers. He lifts your chin, his eyes on your lips.

“How much do you trust me?”

You swallow.

 Your manager’s words come to your mind - whatever you were doing with Jungkook, to continue it. You trusted Jungkook a lot - he’s helped you so much without asking for anything in return. It was because of him that your song was charting and the sudden interest of people streaming, buying and participating in challenges.

“With everything.” you respond to Jungkook truthfully.

“Everything?” Jungkook furrows his brows. “Even with your body?”

“Keep doing it.” your manager's words replay over and over in your head. 

“You’re shying away.” Jungkook notes. Maybe he was too forward with you, but he couldn’t allow himself to care. He’s already been caught by you masturbating to just the thought of you. “I can’t help you if you don’t allow me to.”

You inhale deep, your eyes not leaving his. 

“You aren’t comfortable with me.”

“I am-”

“You aren’t.” Jungkook intercepts. “Are you comfortable giving yourself to Jaehyun?”

Your eyebrows knit together at Jungkook's words.

Jaehyun?

You shake your head.

“I saw the way you were looking at him.” Jungkook removes his hand from your chin and takes a step back. “You had heart eyes for him. While I sat there and helped you achieve success…you still haven’t given me those eyes.”

Jungkook turns away from you just as he says those words. You shake your head, reaching out for the man.

“I-I don’t want Jaehyun-ssi!” you exclaim. Your anxiety was peaking, fear running through you. You didn’t want to upset Jungkook or make him think you didn’t appreciate all the help he’s given you. “I’m sorry, seonbaenim.” your hand touches his bicep.

Jungkook turns back to you. Your eyes are low, but he can see the seriousness in them - you were apologetic. 

“I never…done anything with a man before.” you murmur, hot feeling all over. “I want to…” your heart is racing with what to say. “Keep doing it…keep doing it…” your manager’s words replay in your mind. “...I want to please you, seonbaenim. I want to be good for you, I just don’t know how.”

Jungkook is stunned for a moment, his eyes watching you intently. Then, there’s a smirk forming onto his lips.

Now, Jungkook had you where he wanted you - where you needed to be.

“You know you’re my good girl, Y/N.” Jungkook takes both of your hands in his and steps backwards towards his bed. He sits down and tugs for you to do the same - on top of him. “My good girl. Once I do this with you, you can’t do it with someone else.”

Jungkook’s hands are upon you, holding you close.

“I’m a man and I know how men are.” Jungkook murmurs, his lips close to your jawline. “They will use you until you have nothing left to give. They will take you to feed their own satisfaction and leave you.”

You release a gasp.

“I won’t do that to you, my good girl.” Jungkook’s hands dip beneath your shirt to feel your smooth skin. “You can always trust me. I’ll treat you right. I want more from you, unlike any other man.”

Jungkook wants to say especially Jaehyun - but he doesn’t want to come off as jealous. Jaehyun is his friend and understands that he holds no feelings or attraction towards you, he was just being friendly. However, he was also a man and in Jungkook’s eyes, any man can and will be competition.

Jungkook’ s lips are upon your skin, kissing your jawline. 

“Promise me, Y/N. That you’ll always be mine.”

Maybe it was selfish for Jungkook to ask from you, but he doesn’t care. He’s invested in you free of charge - he’s only asked for one thing. To have you fully for himself, all of you. He wants your love and devotion, your respect.

Your virginity. 

Jungkook wanted all of you. He wanted to be the first person who made you cum. He wanted to show you how pleasurable sex could be with the right person - him - and show you what he liked.

It’s what Jungkook deserves - he was going to make you a star. Your sisters could not compare to you and he would assure that you had it all. Soon, you’ll have brand deals and be an ambassador of whatever brand you desire - as long as you remain his.

“I promise.” you murmur, and it’s then that Jungkook doesn’t hold back. He kisses along your neck hungrily, as if he was a dog waiting to pounce at his favorite treat. 

You’re unsure what to do but allow Jungkook to take the lead. His hands roam your body, squeezing and grabbing everything he could with just two palms.

“You said you want to be good for me, right?” Jungkook says against your collarbone, his teeth grazing your skin.

You nod, your body flushed with heat.

Jungkook leans back, his dark eyes on your face. “My pretty good girl.” he murmurs, the back of his hand stroking your chin. “I want you to strip for me like you did before.”

Jungkook’s eyes upon you cause you to freeze up. The horrified look on your face has Jungkook chuckling. “Don’t be shy, Y/N. You’ll have to learn to do this without any liquid courage.”

“Yes.” you murmur with a nod.

“It’s just me.” Jungkook breaths. 

Just Jungkook.

You take a deep breath, and before you can think too much into the fact that it was Jungkook, you begin to lift your shirt over your head. You discard it aside with a bite of your lip.

“I like black on your skin.” Jungkook compliments, touching up the fabric holding your breast together perfectly. 

“Thank you.” you respond cutely, voice low and meek. You remove yourself from Jungkook’s lap to remove your pants. They fall to the floor swiftly and you kick your feet to get out of it fully. 

Jungkook licks his lip before biting it. There’s an obvious tent in his sweats just at the sight of you. He thinks about what you’d look like in countless lingerie - high stockings that highline your legs, lacy material that teases him just in the right way. His mouth salivates at the endless possibilities.

It’s just Jungkook, you tell yourself. It’s just Jungkook - the same man who’s been so kind to you. Who’s helped you with your comeback, given you advice and assisted in gaining confidence. You don’t need to be self-conscious - even you can see how excited he was - but there was more than just self-confidence. You weren’t as experienced as you (assumed?) he was.

But, with Jungkook’s words flowing through your mind mixed with your managers, you didn’t have time to dwell on it. You had to engage with him, you think.

“Seonbae…Jungkook…?”

Jungkook’s alert at the sound of his name. “Yes, baby?” he says without thinking, the amount of pet names he can call you is as endless as the amount of lingerie he wants to see you in. 

You swallow and turn away from him. “Can you help me take it off?”

Jungkook groaned and far too quickly did he stand on his feet to meet you. His hands are warm against your skin as he unclasps the bra. His hand slides down your bare spine, shuddering at how soft your skin is. Your bra falls next to your feet and slowly you turn around.

“It’s just me.” Jungkook’s words repeat in your mind. 

“My pretty girl.” Jungkook hums. “Kiss me.”

You do, your hands falling onto Jungkook’s chest as your lips touch his. 

Jungkook deepens the kiss with a moan. Having you nearly naked before him excites him like no other and he has to remember that this was your first time. He couldn’t be too rough or possessive with you (yet) like he wants to.

You yelp, eyes wide when you’re suddenly thrusted on the soft mattress. 

“You’ve never done anything with a man, right?” Jungkook’s fingers fall at your panties, touching the material between his fingertips. 

You nod.

“What have you ever thought about doing with…” Jungkook doesn’t say ‘a man’ because he doesn’t want to think of you having fantasies with someone that wasn’t him. “...me?”

Jungkook begins to pull at your panties, goosebumps running through his skin. 

You lift yourself from the bed so he can remove your panties. You’ve never thought about doing anything like this with Jungkook - not until the day in the studio. Having his hands on you, feeling his breath upon your skin - you felt ashamed of the perverted thoughts.

But now you don't need to feel ashamed. Jungkook wanted you - he wasn’t just a superior to you now. Soon he’d be the man you’d have sex with - and by your promise, the only man.

“Kissing you.” you respond, clenching your legs together.

“Done that.” Jungkook mumbles. “What did I say about being shy with me, Y/N?”

You loosen your grip on your thighs, allowing Jungkook to open your legs. He’s staring right at you, eyes never blinking. Your mind is screaming at you all at once - 2 minutes of not blinking and you want to tear yourself away from his firm grip.

“Jungkook.” 

Jungkook blinks, the moisture regaining back into his eyes. 

“Sorry.” Jungkook swallows. “I want you to sit on my face.” You cough, unsure if you heard Jungkook correctly. “What?”

“I want you to sit on my face.” Jungkook states matter-of-factly. “Your pussy’s very pretty-”

“Please stop.” you look up at the ceiling with a horrified groan. “You can’t say things like that.”

“Why not?” Jungkook lowers himself between your legs.  He sends a kiss on your inner thigh. “You’re going to be my girl, Y/N. You can’t close yourself off every time I give you a little compliment.” Jungkook kisses your thigh again, inching closer to your clit.

“I know…” you murmur. “You don’t have to be so…dirty about it.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Dirty?” he shakes his head. “Dirty is telling you I want you to ride my face until you cum a good three times before I fuck you. But I’m not saying that, aren’t I?” Jungkook sends a quick peck against your clit, assuring to hold your thighs so you don’t close them on his head - but then again, he wouldn’t be opposed to that. 

You’re too stunned to speak, and Jungkook furrows a brow. “So?”

You swallow. “I…I’m supposed to be learning how to pleasure you.”

Jungkook tilts his head. “You think you can pleasure me without shying away?”

No, but you nod your head regardless. You were going to have to see Jungkook naked regardless - better now than later.

“Hmm.” Jungkook hums. His cock was begging to be released now. He goes to take off his shirt, lifting to his feet to do the same to his sweats.

 Your eyes try not to stare, but it’s difficult not to. You were beginning to realize why Jungkook was so confident - and just why he was so loved outside of his talents. 

Jungkook gets onto the bed, his back against the tall headboard. Your eyes glance at his cock then back up at him to find that he’s already looking at you. Quickly, you widen your eyes and turn away.

“Come here, pretty girl.” Jungkook laughs. 

You do so hesitantly. You’re having a hard time not looking at it - it’s erect and basically staring at you. It doesn’t help that you find it pretty - could dicks be pretty? He was cleanly groomed, veins wrapping around the length of it and the tip reminded you of a lollipop - red and suckable.

You mentally gasp at your mind at the moment.

“I’ll let you take the lead.” Jungkook says when you’re facing him, knees firmly against his bed. “I can talk you through it.”

You nod, swallowing a lump in your throat. 

“Wrap your hands around it.”

Your palms are sweaty, but you do as Jungkook insists. 

“Tighten your grip.” Jungkook widens his legs to get comfortable. “Good girl…now just stroke it up and down.”

You appear fascinated at doing this - maybe because your ears hear Jungkook’s breathing, followed by a few low groans. Or maybe because you were actually doing this with him.

Jungkook wants to be more vulgar - he wants to tell you to spit on it for lubrication, but there was more than a 50% chance that you’d cower at his words, so he opts to just watch you with hooded eyes. 

“C-Can I…?”

Jungkook nods his head, unsure truly what you meant but he was hoping it was what he thought you did. 

And it was.

You were awkward at first, bringing the tip of his cock to your lips, but the act alone has Jungkook pre-cumming, a salty substance touching your tongue. Your tongue reaches out to lick the tip, eyes glancing up to see a reaction.

Jungkook’s eyes are closed and he doesn’t appear to be in pain.

You venture further, closing your own eyes to do anything, hoping the act would come natural to you. If you thought about his cock appearing like a lollipop, then the act would be the same then - as long as you remembered not to bite it in the end, you’d be good.

You begin to suck, continuing your stroking motion. Jungkook's head falls back against the headboard, biting his lip. He can’t look at you, he thinks, because if he does, he knows he would cum and he doesn’t want to cum yet - not in your mouth, at least. Another time, yes. 

But you’re sucking him so good that he can’t help but release a few moans of your name, a hand placing itself onto your head encouragingly. He knows now that you’re good for him - the perfect girl he needs to mold into the woman he knows you can be. He can make you a star that the world will love - and the whore behind the scenes just for him.

Jungkook forces you to go deeper until you feel the tip of his cock hit your uvula. It takes everything in you to not gag. You had to be good for him, you think. Your seonbae can be as good to you as you are to him.

“My pretty girl.” Jungkook grips the back of your head. “So good for me…allowing me to fuck your mouth.”

You don’t realize your legs are clenching until there's friction. You can feel a string of drool coming from the corners of your lips, but you can’t care - there’s no time to. Jungkook’s thrusting into your mouth with such force and need, completely taking over whatever control he allowed you to have.

Jungkook continues to grunt. He won’t be lasting long and he truly does not want to come. He allows himself to look at you now - how filthy you looked with his cock shoved in your mouth. How there’s tears in the corner of your eyes threatening to fall and drool dripping down your chin. But yet and still, you were so beautiful, innocent, the pure look still in your eyes.

A look Jungkook couldn’t wait to ruin.

Jungkook yanks himself away from you the second he feels himself about to cum, his high slowly going down. He pants, clenching his teeth together. 

“My good girl…” Jungkook trails off. “I’m going to make you cum.”

Jungkook doesn’t wait for a response. Instead, he pushes you against his mattress and forces your legs apart. 

“So wet.” Jungkook tsks, no longer holding back. His fingers meet your clit and he begins to rub.

Your hand automatically grips Jungkook's wrist, but he makes no movement to stop. Instead, he watches your wide eyes with his own, as if daring you to try to stop him.

The feeling is weird, but good. No one but your own fingers has touched you, and the foreign feeling was causing a bubbling effect in your stomach. Jungkook was experienced in this - he knew exactly what to do to get you squirming beneath him.

“So sweet.” Jungkook says after placing two fingers in his mouth. “Now I have to taste you.”

Jungkook doesn’t allow you a moment, instead dipping his head down to capture your clit in his mouth. He lays his tongue flat on it and licks, flickering his tongue between your folds hungrily. 

Jungkook’s quick, both hands grabbing your thighs just as they were about to close. He forces them back, your knees hitting the mattress.

The sounds that could be heard are nothing but filthy - Jungkook’s suckling and groans, your moans and whimpers. You yourself don’t want to look between your legs, afraid that you’d catch eyes with Jungkook and lose yourself even more. But that didn’t mean Jungkook wasn’t going to. He enjoys watching you - every reaction is raw. You’re new to this, so that means that he was going to be the one that made you feel amazing; make you cum.

The thought alone excites Jungkook to no end.

Your pretty moans were music to Jungkook ears and he’s satisfied you no longer hid them from him. His pretty girl, he thinks. Once so innocent and shy now laid on his bed, begging for more - and more he’d give you. To think that in the eyes of the public, he could never call you what you were (his, yet…) but he knew just like you knew. 

Jungkook pushes back from your clit to enter two fingers inside of you. You were tight and he’s certain you’d need to be stretched out before he could fuck you. ‘Relax, pretty girl.” he mumbles when you flinch. “It’ll feel good. Just be good for me.”

Jungkook’s fingers begin to pump. He’s slow at first, testing you, eyes on your reaction before he can truly fuck his fingers inside of you.

You bite your lips and quiver your legs. “I don’t think I can-”

“You can take it, Y/N.”

You wish you had the confidence in yourself that Jungkook held for you. You hold back your words in an attempt to just that - take it. But it was hard. You were feeling like Jungkook's fingers were stretching you out in a way you’ve never been - and you were beginning to second guess if you wanted his cock inside of you.

“My pretty girl, so tight for me.” Jungkook speaks more to himself than to you. His eyes zone in on his fingers pumping in and out of you, your juices coating his fingers. He groans - you’re clenching around him so perfectly that he cannot wait to feel you for himself.

“It’s starting to feel good, huh?” Jungkook snickers when he hears the faintest moan from your lips. “My good girl.”

Jungkook curls his fingers inside of you, pumping even deeper. Jungkook leans down to capture your lips with him on, his pumping never stopping. His tongue coats your bottom lip, forcing it open so he can dominate your own.

“Jungk-kook-”

Jungkook’s tongue licks the side of your cheek, wet and warm. It drags to your jaw to your neck and dips down between your breasts. Still pumping inside of you - understanding that you’ll be cumming soon, he captures a nipple. 

Jungkook loves the sweet noises you’re making - who knew something so shy could be so filthy when the time came. No one but him would know. His tongue flicks your nipples teasingly, the hardened bud enjoying being toyed with. 

“Please stop, Jungkook. I can’t-”

Jungkook bites (only gently) your nipple to silence you. His thumb rubs your clit encouragingly. “It’s okay, baby. You’re about to cum. Just let loose.”

This wasn’t cumming - you’ve never experienced this before. You’ve touched yourself many times and this wasn’t what it felt like. Your toes are curling and slowly your back arches. You couldn’t take it anymore - not with Jungkook’s suckling on your breast, as well.

Jungkook has to see it for himself. He lets your nipple pop from his lips and his eyes zone in on your clenching pussy, sopping wet for him. He allows a few more pumps before he removes his fingers, juices leaking out of you at a rapid pace. Your thighs are quivering, but you can feel relief wash over you now that it’s done. 

“I told you to stop.” you whimper, the familiar hot sensation running through you. “I wouldn’t have done that-”

“You never told me to stop.” Jungkook interrupts. He wraps a hand around his erect cock, wishing he could fuck into you right now. “Besides, you loved it.” he slaps it against your clit, gently rubbing it between your folds.

You swallow. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“But you can.” Jungkook continues to rub against your clit. “I don’t ask for a lot, do I?”

You clench around nothing, but you fear yourself becoming overstimulated. “No.” you respond meekly. 

“Exactly.” Jungkook pants. “Such a wet pussy my good girl has.” he says vulgarly. “Don’t you think it’s selfish of you to deny me pleasure after all I’ve done for you?”

Jungkook slaps his cock against your clit, continuing. “I’ve helped you with everything. You have shows lined up because of me, Y/N. They’re not interested in your group. They’re interested in you.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “I could be an asshole and sue and say I deserve writing credits to the song. I was in the studio, wasn’t I?” Jungkook circles his tip at your wet entrance. “But I haven’t. I’ve done everything I could to assure you’ve achieved greatness and it’s as if giving me the one thing I ask for is too much.”

“Seonbaenim…” your voice trails off, heart beating rapidly at his words. 

“You don’t respect me as your superior, Y/N.” Jungkook sighs. “If I didn’t care for you, I would’ve taken you a long time ago. I wouldn't have given you any form of pleasure because I would only be thinking of my own.”

You’re taken aback by his words, but Jungkook doesn’t stop.

“No other man in this industry is going to love or respect you the way that I do. They’ll use you until you have nothing left to give. Then, you’ll just be damaged goods.” 

You’re so beautiful, Jungkook thinks, even when his cruel words show on your face. But he was an honest man, after all. Who’d want you once you weren’t a young, naive virgin willing to please? No one but him - which is why he needed to be the one to have you all to himself. 

It was only right, Jungkook thinks. 

“You don’t want that, right, pretty girl?” Jungkook offers a kind smile, his words not matching it. “You already promised you’ll be mine and mine alone. Right?”

Slowly, you nod your head.

“Say it, Y/N. Say you’ll only be mine.”

Jungkook needed a confirmation - more for himself. He didn’t want you to come back and regret anything because you gave him full consent.

“I’ll only be yours.”

Jungkook hums with satisfaction. “That’s right, baby. Only mine. Turn around.” Jungkook instructs, helping you do so. He arches your back, hand against your back so your chest is against the mattress. 

“Seonbae?” you quip feeling Jungkook’s cock against your hole, reading to pounce any given moment. “I-I don’t have any protection.”

Jungkook furrows a brow. “Okay?”

“Do you?” you swallow, throat feeling dry.

“For you, no.” Jungkook laughs, a genuine laugh as if he couldn’t believe your words. “We’ve already gone through this, Y/N. You’re my girl.”

“But-”

“Why do I need to use protection if you’re my girl? What is the protection for?” Jungkook was growing impatient.

You bite your lip. You and he were a part of the same industry - both idols with jobs you had to do. “I can’t get pregnant, seonbae.” you whisper, embarrassed that it’s something you had to say. 

Jungkook scoffs. “Getting pregnant by me is an honor, Y/N.” he says, his tone a bit snappy. You didn’t mean to offend him. “Maybe if I get you pregnant then you’ll know just who you belong to.” he says the last part more harshly, hand gripping your waist with such force. “Don’t worry, pretty girl. I know what to do. You won’t get pregnant.” Yet - he promised you stardom and he never went back on his promises. 

Your fingers clench the bed sheets when you feel Jungkook enter you. The feeling is far more intense - more than his fingers. It’s not as if Jungkook made it any easier. He had no intentions of going easy on you now - not after you’ve attempted to deny him access to you. A condom was a slap in the face - after all the work he’s put in to assure he fulfilled his promise to you.

“Jung…kook…” your eyes are clenched shut, body jerking away from him.

“Stop running away.” Jungkook snarls, jerking you back against him. You’re so tight, clenching around him heavenly. “You’ll feel good soon, pretty girl. I promise.”

Soon came, but not fast enough. You were being stretched out so savagely that you contemplated if it would be like this everytime you and he had sex. You’re positive that your hips would have bruises on them with how tight Jungkook grips them, keeping you in place.

Jungkook pants, his eyes watching the way your ass bounces against him in astonishment. For a virgin, you had a slutty body that only he’d be able to have.

“It feels good now, doesn’t it?” Jungkook snickers. “I can feel you clenching around me even tighter. I told you it would.”

Jungkook’s slamming into your sweet spot, pressing against it with each passing thrust. He can’t wait to fuck you the entire night until he couldn’t anymore. He wants you in every position possible, not caring if you had to be up the following morning early - because right now, you were his and his alone. 

Jungkook hovers above you, both of his hands atop yours. He intertwined his fingers with yours, his lips against your ears. “My pretty good girl. Aren’t you happy I chose you?” his teeth nibble your ear playfully. “Out of all the women I can have. I chose you. Tell me you’re happy.”

“I’m…I’m happy.” you moan, eyes fluttering with how deep he is in this position. 

You were happy.

You’ve accepted that this was your fate now - you were going to please Jungkook and in return, you’d have what you wanted. A career and someone you respected by your side as much as he was willing to be. 

“So good for me.” Jungkook murmurs. “Kiss me.”

You strain your neck, but you do as Jungkook says. Your moans die down against his lips, but he has all night to hear your moans.

And Jungkook does. He fucks into you each and every time, not caring about the exhausted look in your face. He flips you onto your back, your knees against your shoulders and cums deep inside of you. He allows you on top, but only he has control, your cunt filled to the brim with even more cum, but he isn’t finished until you’re begging him for a break - but how could he want to stop? He’s waited so long for you that he has a few more rounds in before he’s satisfied.

“Pretty girl.” Jungkook simpers at your condition - nearly unconscious and full of his cum. “Here.”

Jungkook wasn’t an asshole. As much as he enjoys cumming inside of you, he had a promise to fulfill before he can allow you to carry his child. “Can’t have you getting pregnant at the height of your career, can’t we?”

Jungkook hands you a water bottle and a small pill. Your words are inaudible, but he has a clue of what the question is. 

“Contraceptive.” Jungkook assists in having you take it. “I’ll get you some birth control pills tomorrow.”

You swallow the pill and nod, falling against the mattress. You were far too exhausted to speak, only wanting to sleep.

Jungkook brings you closer to him, your head against his chest while his hands rub along your back softly. Gently, he presses a kiss to your head. “Aren’t you happy you have me as happy as I am to have you, Y/N? he murmurs, knowing that you’ve already fallen to slumber. “No other man is going to treat you as good as I am.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, satisfied with the good deed he has done not only for him, but for you, as well.

#trivia-yandere #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #bangtan smut #bangtanwriters net #btswritersclub #bts smut #jungkook smut #bangtanwritershq #jungkook x reader #bts yandere #yandere jungkook #idol bts #idol jungkook #idol reader #best friends! #seonbaenim!

[violetsiren90]

What the Moon Saw

Pairing: Yoongi x f!Reader

Genre: One-shot; non-idol AU; friends to lovers; young love; summer nights, angst/fluff/smut

Summary: Having been with each other through thick and thin, you and your childhood friend, Yoongi, realize that nobody knows how to say goodbye.

Listen to: "Nobody Knows How to Say Goodbye" by The Lumineers

Drabbles: Stolen Tides; Beacons Ashore

Content Warnings: 18+ (minors dni); allusions to domestic abuse; divorce of parents; cigarette smoking; infidelity (not between main couple); kissing; hickeys; making out; hand jobs; oral sex (female receiving); loss of virginity (female); moments of body insecurity; unprotected sex; cumming inside; cockwarming; characters are ADULTS at the time of their sexual encounter; LOTS of emotions

Author's note: I moved. Like, a block away from the beach, and the views and the vibes have me ALL up in my feels. I wrote this in two nights and then sat on it. I wasn't sure if I was going to post it or just keep it in my heart because parts of it are so personal to me. BUT, here it is. I want to give inspiration credit to @orchidyoonkook , because I will never ever be able to write young love or Yoongi without being influenced by the beauty that is Under the Willow Tree. 💕 If anyone chooses to read this little love story of mine, I hope it brings you something wholesome!

If no one has told you yet today, you are loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

    You inhaled deeply, taking the salty air into your lungs as you gazed out over the cliff side and across the rippling blue that stretched on and on until it met the soft pink glow of the horizon. Your eyes tracked the tide lapping at the smooth sands. You slipped off your heels to meet the cool pavement, but you could feel it already - the soft golden grains molding to meet your steps. These shores hadn't borne your footprints in over a decade, but here you were, drawn back again by the hypnotic crash of the sea and the lonely call of the gulls. It felt as though you had never left. You leaned over the railing of the rickety staircase that wove its way down the cliff side into the sand and scree. Your gaze trailed down the steps, one by one, until you saw it, jutting out halfway down: the lip of a ledge in the rock face. Your breath caught in your chest. Old, familiar feelings of a time gone by washed over you. The years rolled back like clouds from the sun in the western sky.

You were nineteen.

You shivered, drawing your knees up and hugging them to you as sat on the thick woolen blanket you had laid over the cool stone of the ledge. Even on a summer night like this, you should have worn something more practical. But you had worn your cotton sundress with the cherries. He had once told you that you looked like the main character in that dress, and it had been your favorite ever since.

You watched the moon dance on the dark water and thought about all it had seen. It had been watching the little alcove from the beginning. It had seen you the summer after your first year of middle school, wrapped in a blanket with book between your hands, as you took refuge from the emotional turmoil that shook your house nearly every night leading up to your parents' divorce. It had seen the boy one night, wandering the beach with a cigarette and busted lip, trying to smoke away the tears in his eyes. It had seen the boy climb the stairs, only to discover his favorite hiding place was already harboring another runaway. It had seen you look at him - skinny limbs in a jacket and ripped jeans not lanky on his small frame, tussled dark hair, round face, little bleeding pouted lips, dark sharp eyes wide with surprise - and consider that he was likely the most beautiful thing you had ever laid eyes on. It had seen him offer you a cigarette which you refused. It had seen him ask you for a light, which you didn't have. And then it had seen you become friends. Best friends. It had watched you become all that the other truly had in the small, beautiful, painful world of a child. And now it would watch him amble up the beach one last time to find you there.

Yoongi. He had been so upset when you told him that you were leaving for college, but he had tried his best not to show it. He was always like that, keeping things deep inside. You had to wait and watch and listen and coax them out. You could always find the right time to do it, when he felt safe to let you. Most nights, though, it was you pouring out every little thing in your heart. Yoongi loved it when you did that. He would listen with the softest little smile and warm eyes, creasing in the corners, as he watched your hands move with as much animation as your voice when you spoke. His nearly-silent breathy laugh would come like a breeze off the sea and waft around you, lifting your spirits and cleansing your soul. His rare, full smile spreading in breathtaking beauty over his face, pulling his upper lip away from his gums. There were the good times, and the bad ones. On hard nights you would hold each other in silence, letting the beat of the other's heart and the steady undulation of the tide carry you through to the dawn.

You remembered the first time you had awakened in his arms after such a night. The light had just started to stream over the tops of the cliffs, painting the water in rose gold. You had shivered, feeling the dampness of the cool salty air in your hair. And then you had looked up and seen him there, holding you, still fast asleep. His face was angelic, little pink lips just parted, chest rising and falling with the swell of his breath, and you swore you could endure anything life threw at you if the first thing you saw each day were his dark lashes resting gently on the apples of his cheeks. Yoongi had finally stirred and blinked down at you, just gazing silently - the little warm smile in his eyes rather than on his lips. In that moment, something had changed. In the weeks that followed, you thought you had never felt so many things at once.

You felt giddy. You felt a little sick. You felt like you could fly.

You were in love.

You were in love and you had very nearly worked up the courage to do something about it when you saw it - that horrid little purple bruise right below his ear. You had asked him if his father had done it and he had been confused at first. But when you brushed your fingers so softly over the mark, his eyes had widened and he had recoiled, pulling up the collar of his jacket to obscure it from your view. He had insisted that he was fine and not to worry. But worry you did, all the way up to the day you realized what the little bruise really was. Then your worry morphed into something different. You felt sick again, but this time it felt like a burden. You had chided yourself for being so stupid. He was beautiful and sixteen, of course he was involved with girls - girls that weren't you. Your heart broke. You pieced it back together with the succor of his friendship, and, soon, you started seeing other boys too. But you never let them give you purple bruises. You didn't want them from their lips. 

As the seasons went by, you remained tethered to one another. Regardless of friends or suitors who would come and go, you knew each other in a way that no one else could. A way that didn't require words. Laughter bubbled up without effort or restraint. Fights ended in tears and forehead kisses and never lasted more than a few moments. Never past parting. Until one day a few weeks ago when he had told you that a boy you were going with was seeing another girl. Yoongi had never liked your boyfriend, and so you had reacted badly, gotten defensive and let yourself be angry with him for telling you. You had snapped at him to mind his own business. When he had insisted that you were his business you had said no you weren't, not in that way. He had gone quiet. So quiet. And then he had left. And he hadn't come the next night. Or the night after that.

You were so angry and anxious, and you told yourself you wouldn't wait for him another night, so you stayed home for the rest of the week. Then, on the third night away, you had tucked yourself into bed only to imagine Yoongi waiting for you, alone in the darkness. You had whipped off your covers and gone to find him in your pajamas. When he had seen you he had jumped up, throwing his cigarette aside, and crushed you in his arms. He had hugged you from the other side of the railing, not even waiting for you to climb over, then lifted you to stand before him on the ledge where he had enveloped you in his arms again. You had tried to apologize, but he wouldn't let you. And then you told him what you had been dreading to tell him all summer: you were leaving. He hadn't reacted. He had just held you in silence. But there was something different in him now, something that had his eyes trained immovably on the horizon. Something that wouldn't let him look at you. Something that distracted him from all you had to say as his thumbs brushed softly over your arms. He had looked at you so strangely before you had parted that night.

Now you were meeting one last time before you would watch the little coastal town and all its hurts disappear in your rearview mirror. You needed a second chance and this scholarship might be your only shot. Your reverie broke as you noticed a figure shuffling down the waterline in the bright light of the waxing gibbous. The figure sprung nimbly, with practiced steps, up the stairs, and lightly vaulted the rail, landing with a soft thud, catlike, a few feet from where you sat. He stepped forward, standing over you as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket. He was wearing tight khakis, white tennis shoes, and a plain white tee under his green military jacket. With a smoke tucked behind his ear and that little smirk on his lips, you thought he might be cooler than Steve McQueen.

"Got a light?" he asked coolly, shoving the pack of Marlboros back in his pocket. You rolled your eyes.

"Of course not, Yoongi. And why on earth do you always ask me that when you've got one anyway?"

Yoongi smiled to himself as he brought a lighter to the little yellow-tipped cylinder between his lips. It was a secret kind of smile, the kind that made you want to snatch the cigarette from between his teeth. But tonight wasn't for fighting, even the bickering kind. He eased himself down beside you with his signature careful grace. You sat in silence, gaze trained out over the water. While you were looking elsewhere, he relaxed, and you tracked his movements in your peripheral vision. You would do this sometimes, especially when he was particularly guarded. He had always been bad at eye contact, but if you gave him a little space he would let down his walls, and you could read him like a book. Just now, he had let his gaze settle on you. Smoke hissed through his lips, his mouth hanging open just a little in that way it did when he was lost to his thoughts. His eyes roved over you in a way that made you mouth go dry. You swallowed. He suddenly shifted his gaze, coughing a bit.

"I like this dress," he offered, like an apology.

"I know," you murmured with a smile.

"Yeah?" he questioned, brow furrowing, as he took another drag. He was quiet for a beat before pressing out another question. "Paul headed out east too?"

"I broke up with him," came your answer, but without a smile this time.

  "Yeah?"

    "Oh come on, Yoongi," you bit out, "You knew that was going to happen. That's why you told me!"

His jaw ticked ever so slightly.

    "You know that's not true. He was cheating on you. I couldn't let you be in the dark about it - get hurt by another one of these assholes who don't deserve your time in the first place."

You sighed, frustration rising unbidden again as Yoongi casually hurtled the unspoken walls you had erected to make things easier.

    "What I deserve is my business. I don't go chastising you for letting random bitches suck on your neck and god knows what else so that you don't feel lonely."

The remark had been soft but laced with venom, and you had regretted breaching your own resolve against negativity the moment the words had spilled from your lips.

    "Random..." He stared at you intently, surprise and confusion mingling with another indiscernible expression in his eyes as they traced over your features. You were trying to think of a way, any way, to salvage the conversation when he huffed out a laugh.

    "You did know what it was!"

    "What?"

    "That hickey you asked about sophomore year."

Your stomach flipped.

    "How do you even remember that?" You blustered in incredulity.

    "How do you?"

    He was staring at you knowingly with those achingly beautiful dark eyes that always saw you. It was one of the things you loved most about him. But right now it was terrifying. Right now you wanted to escape, only, there was nowhere to go. So for a moment, just a moment, you didn't hide anymore.

    "Because," you swallowed, trailing your eyes back up to his, your voice shaking a bit as you whispered, "I remember everything."

A beat. Two. You didn't make a disarming jest, or a hurried qualification. You didn't even blink. In a flash as quick and heavy as a summer storm, years of yearning filled your eyes like intangible tears, holding his face in your gaze before casting it back out over the sea. Yoongi had froze where he sat, eyes trained immovably on you before he suddenly stood, tossing his cigarette and cursing as he took a step toward the edge, weaving his fingers through his hair.

"What?" you asked, almost defensively.

He didn't turn around, but you could hear the emotion in his voice, his head bowed as he wrestled with the words.

    "Nah, that's not fair. You're leaving...You're leaving and you're gonna make it even...even harder right now?"

Turns out you weren't the only one who had been building walls with invisible bricks. You jumped to your feet.

    "Oh, so this is my fault? You've been telling me my whole life to get out! You convinced me to apply to the Ivy Leagues! You spent the last weeks pushing me away! I don't understand what you want from me, Yoongi!"

He turned toward you, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth, eyes on the ground.

    "A clean break," he said lowly, "Not from you...for you. I just wanted you to run, no guilt no pain, and not look back."

You felt a lump rise in your throat as you shook your head.

    "That's not how it works though. I was always going to look back. Whenever I was frightened or lost or uncertain. Whenever I woke up in the morning or closed my eyes to sleep, or laughed, or...or felt so much joy I didn't know what to do with it. I was always going to look back, Yoongi," You took a deep breath, "I was going to look for you."

Hot tears slipped down your cheeks as you grabbed his arm and pressed your wet face into his shoulder. You could feel his body shake with little sobs.

    "Don't," he croaked out, "don't look for me."

    "Sorry," you huffed a tearful laugh into the fabric of his sleeve, "I don't think my heart will listen to you. Pretty rough deal when it's yours after all."

You had tried to say it like a joke. It had come out like a promise.

    Yoongi stilled. Everything stilled. For a moment, it was as if even the sea and the sky and the moon held their breath. He let his hands fall from where they covered his face. As he lifted his head and turned, you dropped his arm, thinking for one horrible moment that he meant to push you away. But he didn't. He reached for you, and gently, firmly - like every move he ever made, like every word he ever spoke - slipped his hand around the nape of your neck and pressed his mouth against yours.

    You gasped softly against his lips.

    Sweet, methodical, insistent. He slipped his tongue against your bottom lip and you tilted your head to slot your mouth against his, deepening the kiss as his tongue brushed languorously against your own. He tasted like mint and cigarettes and him. You could do this all day. A little dagger pierced your heart at the thought that you only had tonight. You stumbled back, tugging him down beside you onto the blanket. You pushed him to his back and slipped onto his lap, leaning down to reconnect your lips with his. He chuckled into your mouth, his cheeks still wet with tears. 

    "Slow down," he hummed.

    "No," you murmured in simple defiance, kissing along his jaw before dipping to press your mouth to the soft flesh of his neck.

You licked softly, experimentally, along the side of his throat, and his fingers tightened against your waist. He tasted like salty skin and the alcohol of that cheap musky cologne he wore and Yoongi. You leaned back, supporting yourself with hands on either side of his head as you looked down at him.

    "Can I?" you asked with a shy smile

    "Hm?" he hummed, large, lithe hands massaging your waist.

    "Leave a mark?"

His eyes squeezed into little crescent moons, and his mouth pulled up into a full smile he couldn't repress. He chuckled again, reaching up to brush his palm over your cheek, and nodded, tilting his head to the side to expose the creamy skin of his neck. Your heart hammered in your chest as you leaned down and placed an open-mouthed kiss to his throat before sucking until you had pulled a low, deep groan from him. You pushed up again, surprised at the sound, new and lovely, to find him flushed - his blown pupils darkening his eyes, and a little wet patch of smooth skin growing rosy against his throat. You felt a thrill rush through you, making you tremble. You leaned down and marked him again and again, pulling sweet moans from his lips until his neck and collarbones were littered with the proof of your mouth. You lifted your face to kiss him again, but after pressing his lips to yours twice, he pulled back.

"One more," he whispered, taking your hand from his face and guiding it down to the slight firm swell of the top of his left pec.

His eyes played over your face as you felt it softly against your fingertips - his heart. In a valiant fight for your composure, you pressed your eyes shut and buried your face in his chest. He ran a hand over the back of your head soothingly. You raised your face to meet his gaze again, choking out a little sob at the depth of its gentle affection. You slipped your fingers to the collar of his cotton tee and stretched it down and to the side, revealing his bare chest. With reverence you pressed your mouth to his skin, fulfilling his request.     

No sooner had you raised your eyes to his again than he was pulling you against his lips and rolling you to your back. His weight sank into you as your mouths moved together and you thought, maybe, under his warmth was the only place you ever wanted to be. Your body responded to him seemingly of its own accord, your legs weaving around the backs of his thighs as a thrumming ache intensified at your core. As he moved to kiss your neck you found your hips rolling up, seeking relief for the sticky ache at their center, and you were met with a firm knot in his groin that pressed just where you were neediest. Your high-pitched whine was a sharp contrast to his low growl into your shoulder. It was intoxicating - his sensation, his sound, and you undulated against him over and over to slake your want on his growing hardness and hear his breath come quick against your ear. He began to rock against you in return, and soon you were whimpering into his neck, beads of sweat cooling on your forehead against the night air as each rut of his hips became overwhelming and not enough.

    "Yoongi, please," you begged in a breathy moan, lightly squeezing the back of his neck and turning your damp forehead against his soft cheek.

He pushed up to look at you, brushing away the little hairs clinging to your brow. He looked as needy as you, but a little uncertain.

    "What is it?" he asked. You knew he knew. You leaned up and kissed him chastely before letting your head fall back against the blanket.

    "I want you," you murmured, suddenly barely able to look at him as the words formed on your lips.

Yoongi dipped to press another kiss to your mouth before sitting up and back on your thighs, and gently tugging you up with him. You noticed the bulge straining against the front of his khakis, and he winced slightly as he wiggled to adjust against your legs. He took your hands in his, that little smile tugging at the corners of his pink lips, tongue darting out lick at them as he considered you thoughtfully. Impatient, you pushed his jacket off his shoulder, which he fully shed and cast aside, and ran your hands over his cotton-clad chest. His muscle jumped when you grazed down over his stomach, which you thought must be as soft and lovely as the rest of him.

  "Are you sure you want this to happen right now, with me?" he asked tenderly. You looked up at him, your brow pinched in question. "Your first time?"

    You scoffed, your face heating as you looked away, brushing bits of sand from the blanket.

    "How do you know if it's my first time?"

His little smile spread into a grin.

    "Because I know," he offered, a bit smugly.

You toyed with the hem of his shirt.

    "I'm sure," you murmured. And then you looked up at him. "Have you ever..."

    "Yeah," he responded, almost like he was sorry, as he glanced down and took your hands in his again. He bit the bottom corner of his lip. "I don't have a condom."

You felt your heart pounding as the concept of him taking you where you sat became increasingly real.

    "So pull out," you offered nonchalantly, hoping you sounded far more experienced than he knew you were.

He nodded. You snaked a hand between you to dance your fingers over the strain against the crotch of his pants. His hand flew to encircle your wrist and still your movements. He took a deep breath.

    "It might hurt you at first. Maybe the whole time," he said, his thumb brushing in a pendulum motion over your arm. You nodded.

    "I know. I don't care."

He smiled again, regarding you for a long moment. 

    "Okay," he said, nodding and licking his lips before taking your jaw delicately between the rounded pads of his fingers. "But you have to promise me one thing."

    "Hm?"

    "You still have to leave in the morning."

You heaved a sigh. Oh, Yoongi. You thought you might cry again, so you nodded, pulling him down over you once more.

    "Promise me," he murmured against your lips.

    "I promise," you breathed.

    You kissed slowly, greedily, learning each other's mouths and mapping each other's faces and necks. At some point he dipped below your collarbone to drag his lips along the tops of your breasts. Your hand flew into his hair and he looked up at you, dark eyes seeking permission. You nodded, bottom lip clamped between your teeth as he tugged down the stretchy bodice of your sundress to reveal a simple beige bra that clasped in the front.

    "It's not sexy," you remarked apologetically.

He shook his head, his dark hair falling into his eyes, and dipped to kiss the tops of your breasts as his fingers found the clasp.

    "Shhh, it's just the wrapping," he whispered as he snapped the garment open, letting your breasts fall into view as they pushed aside the fabric cups that had confined them.

He cursed under his breath as he brought both hands to your tits and kneaded them gently, sliding your pert nipples in the spaces between his fingers. You mewled, arching your back to press your chest up into his grasp. Before you could truly revel in the feeling of his hands plying your supple flesh, they were gone, but your whine of protest was cut short by a sharp keen as his mouth replaced his fingers. He suckled and nipped at one bud and then the other, and each time he released one with a pop, you were certain you had been rendered temporarily unconscious. Soon he was sitting up and smirking down at the panting, writhing mess of you beneath him. You saw him grimace again as he adjusted his stance, and you reached for his zipper, only to find your hand caught in his.

    "No yet," he chided lightly, a twinkle in his eye, "I have to make you cum."

You drew your arm back and cast it over the top of your face, suddenly shy at his remark.

    "To get you ready for me," he explained again in a murmur as he pushed your dress up to your rib cage.

He traced his hands lightly over your naked waist and you shivered. He moved to his knees, pushing your legs to either side of him. He hooked his fingers into the top of your pink cotton panties, when you suddenly felt yourself sitting up, your dress falling back over your midriff. You were a sight - wild hair and your tits half out, still panting for breath while worry painted your features. Yoongi pulled his hands away and sat back, confusion in his widened eyes. 

    "I don't shave," you rushed out, "I know some girls do, but I've never tried. And...I don't know, I'm kind of a mess down there right now..."

Yoongi's face softened and he leaned forward to press his forehead to yours.

  "I don't care," he whispered. You huffed out another sigh.

    "But...but what if you...don't like it?"

    "I know I will."

    "How?"

He bumped your nose with his, swallowing again as his hand found yours.

"Because I love you."

He only let the words hang in the air for a millisecond before he was crashing his lips into yours again, passionately, as if it was the only way he could convey his conviction.

He loved you. You could have died. But he was pressing one of the kisses you would always remember into your lips like an oath, so you didn't. And then you let him bare your skin and lay you down and tell you that you were beautiful. You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes when you felt your heart believe him. How were you to leave in the morning when his soft, warm words felt like the sun?

    He ran his hands over your sides and thighs, dipping to trail slow, deliberate kisses down from your navel until his chin brushed the soft, curly hairs of your mound. Your breath caught in your chest as the cool air hit fresh slick dampening your sex. He leaned back again, regarding you with warm eyes, and took your hand in his, placing it over your lower lips.

"Do you touch yourself?"

    You stammered. He had asked you as simply as if he were inquiring about your favorite flavor of ice cream. With effort you admitted that you did. He stroked over your hand.

"Show me how. What makes you feel good."

You nodded slowly, feeling yourself tremble a little as you moved to stroke your middle finger in beckoning motions over your swollen clit. The motion that should have been almost automatic and familiar felt new and lewd under his gaze. As you dipped to gather more arousal from your entrance you watched his Adam's apple bob in his throat and his hands tighten where they gripped your thighs.

    "You're soaked," he murmured as he stooped to press a kiss to your belly. Then he did something that would be seared into your brain for all eternity: he scooped up your hand and brought it to his lips, sucking your sticky middle finger into his mouth. You gushed at the sensation of his lips and tongue, wide eyes locked on his as he slowly let your finger slip free.

    "You want to know how you taste?" He asked, not waiting for an answer before humming, "So fucking good."

    "Yeah?" you asked breathlessly, propped up on your forearms to watch as he laid down between your legs.

  "Mhm. Sweet. Like honey."

He kissed into your pubic hair, slipping one of his long fingers to trace over your clit the way you had showed him. You gasped as you watched him work you up, something inside your growing taut like a bowstring. And then a kind of pleasure you had never imagined, the kind that made you want to melt and scream, rushed through your trembling body as a single finger pressed slowly past your entrance while his mouth found your clit. You found your hips bucking to meet his thrusts as he pressed in a second finger. You felt a slight sting at the stretch, but the exquisite pressure of this knobby knuckles caressing your walls overwhelmed any pain, and when he pressed the pads of his fingers to massage a spongy patch of muscle, you cried out, gripping his dark locks. 

    "Yoongi!" you moaned as he repeated the motion, and when he took your clit between his lips to suck you came.

You came hard and in waves, rolling your hips into him until you were clamping your thighs shut at the raw sensitivity of overstimulation. Yoongi sat up to rub his hands over your shaking thighs and heaving belly before leaning back down to kiss you and return your spirit through his lips from the astral plane.

    "You did so good," he cooed, "Came so easy for me."

    "That's good?" you asked between pants. He chuckled into your neck.

    "Mhm."

    "It felt good, Yoongi, really good." He dropped a kiss to your shoulder, and then mumbled into your skin.

    "You still want to go all the way?"

    "Yes," you whispered, pulling his shirt up his back and running your hands over his bare skin.

Yoongi sat up and pulled the shirt over his head, tossing it to lay with his jacket. He was slender and milky, as you had expected, but his shoulders were surprisingly broad, and his upper chest firm. The soft swell of his belly was dusted with a trail of delicate dark hairs leading down from his navel. You reached instinctively for the button of his pants, and this time he let you. Trailing the zipper down, he helped you shed his tight pants and boxers, sighing in relief as he freed his erection. You bit your lip as your hand trailed over the velvety skin of his shaft. Even this part of him was beautiful, you thought - not overly long but thick and proud with a pretty vein and a smooth tip glistening with precum. You had been so consumed with drinking him in that you only now noticed the little needy whimpers falling from his lips as you stroked him. You squeezed a little firmer, pumping him with more confidence.

    "Like that?" you asked, unable to look away from the sweet sight of his face as his eyebrows knitted and his head tilted back.

"Yeah, just...no, no, I won't last," he groaned, his hand stilling yours.

When he met your concerned gaze he reached up to stroke your cheek.

"Feels too good," he murmured reassuringly, then he guided you back down on the blanket, balling up his jacket and slipping it under your head.

He lowered himself carefully over you, skin to skin, as he kissed you again and again, his right hand toying with your breast and trailing lower to caress your clit. You could feel the heat rising in you again, and an aching want inside growing deeper and hungrier with every shock of pleasure. When he trailed his fingers through your folds to find you thoroughly wet he leaned to the side, gliding his length between your lips, his smooth tip brushing over your bud. You cursed, fingers digging into his back and he huffed a little laugh, eyes sparkling down at you.

    "Dirty girl," he chuckled, before kissing the tip of your nose. "Are you ready?"

You felt a squeeze of trepidation in your chest, but you pushed it away.

    "Yes," you assured him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

For a long moment, he just stared down at you, the same look in his eyes as the morning you had first awakened in his arms, but so intent - as if he was trying to commit every feature of your face, in this moment, to memory. Finally breaking his gaze, he glanced down between your bodies, aligning himself with your entrance. His eyes flicked back up to you as he slowly, slowly breached your core. When he had pressed in past his tip you felt the searing stretch he had warned you of. You closed your eyes, drawing in a sharp breath.

"You okay?" came is worried voice, "Want to stop?" You shook your head.

"No, just do it," you panted through the pain, "I want it to be you."

You pulled him down to press your mouth to his. Every kiss between you seemed to say something. This one said that you trusted him in a way you would never trust another.

He was so gentle. Pressing in slowly, giving you time to stretch around the thickness of him, kissing you sweetly through your whimpers, until he was fully sheathed inside you. Tears filled your eyes and trickled down your cheeks. You were so full of him.

    "Why are you crying?" he cooed, touching his forehead to yours.

Your hands clutched his back as you raised watery eyes to his.

"Because I'm yours, Yoongi. Yours first and no one else's." He buried his face in your neck.

"Take me, Yoongi," you whispered desperately into his ear, "Take me like I'm yours."

You felt him let out a tiny sob against your skin and then he started to move. He kept a slow pace at first, carefully gliding against your tight walls, unaccustomed to his presence. You could feel him jerk and twitch as he moved, and thought he must be restraining himself. You found the worst of your pain had passed, and all you wanted in the world was to make him cum.

    "Don't hold back," you hummed as you rolled your hips to meet his thrusts.

He didn't need you to tell him twice, instantly setting a quicker, sharper pace that had his balls slapping your ass and his pelvic bone pressing to your clit with each forward snap.

    "You're so fucking tight," he mumbled, a dazed look beginning to overtake his features, "You feel so good, baby. So good." You wove your hands into his hair, pulling him down to kiss him as you breathed in every curse, whimper, and moan. And then he was looking down at you with dark, wild eyes.

    "I'm gonna cum, sweetheart, where do you want me to cum?"

You didn't have to think.

    "Inside," you answered breathlessly.

    "But I'm not..."

  "Please, cum inside me, Yoongi. Please," you whimpered, tempted to wrap your legs around his waist - your desire for him transcending every fear of consequence. But you wanted to give him the choice.

He raised himself up on his elbows, his thrusts coming impossibly harder and more erratic, and then he came. You watched him in exaltation as he threw his head back and cried out, emptying himself inside you. So beautiful, you thought, with his hair clinging to his brow, his chest heaving and flushed, and his face drawn in the throes of his release. You did wrap your legs around him then, and he collapsed, his head falling to your breasts as he gasped for breath. You tangled your fingers into his hair, caressing his head. You were swollen and sore and messy, and yet the thought of him abandoning you was unbearable. And the moon saw it all.

It saw you stay each other's as long as possible. It watched you both try to hide your tears as you pulled on your clothes. It watched you fight desperately, and fail, to put your heart in words. It watched him silence you, and hold you, because you didn't have to say it. He knew. It watched you fall asleep in his arms one last time.

You opened your eyes. The gulls were crying and the pale morning sunlight was spilling over the tops of the cliffs. The sea was soft and plashing and cerulean. It was the most beautiful of the ninety-three mornings of summer. But you didn't notice - all you saw were dark lashes on the apples of soft cheeks. You watched his breath rise and fall as the sun tipped over the horizon in the east, the dew trickling down your face as salty as the sea.

When Yoongi's eyes fluttered open they met your red ones, and he pressed is forehead to yours only for a moment before pulling you up to stand.

"Get outta here," he whispered shakily, hands still clutching your arms and brow still tilted into your own.

"Come with me," you choked tracing your hands over his chest.

"I can't leave her with him."

"I know." Your fingers traced over his heart and the little bruise you knew rested under the cotton fabric.

Yoongi wept.

"Go," he whispered, squeezing your arms. You nodded weakly.

"Go, goddamn it, go!" he cried, as you shook with sobs, then he crushed his mouth against yours.

Time didn't stop, you'd have any - so you stole every second you could.

And then you kept your promise.

You shivered as a zephyr sprang off the water to whip around you, disrupting your thoughts. You tugged at your blazer. It had been a long time since you wore a sundress with cherries.

It was time to let them go, the little girl huddled in a blanket and the boy with the bleeding lip. They had held your hands for so long. They deserved to be free. It was time to let them go, so you did.

With a deep sigh you cast one last wistful glance back over the great blue expanse as the sun sank into the sea.

The moon was just a silver slip in the sky that night, but it saw. It saw before you did, as you turned to go, the breath catching in your chest when a low, soft voice behind you asked,

"Got a light?"

-Fin-

#bts fic #bts fanfction #bts fan fiction #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts reader insert #myg #min yoongi #min yoongi fic #yoongi fic #yoongi fanfiction #min yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi smut #min yoongi angst #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #young love #friends to lovers #non idol au #best friends au

[colormepurplex2]

The Stars In His Eyes...The Hate In Your Heart | JHS

▻ The Stars In His Eyes...The Hate In Your Heart ↳ Hoseok x f.Reader ⤜ Non-Idol AU ⤜ Enemies to Lovers/Brother’s Best Friend ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 18,085 ⤜ Summary: Jung Hoseok: a devil dressed in a lilac suit with stars in his eyes. He’s not a real devil, no. Just a demon of your own thinking; with a lithe body and a penchant for getting on your last nerve. Namjoon, your twin and Hoseok’s best friend, is getting married. That draws you irrevocably into Hoseok’s gravitational pull—adding to the hate in your heart—as you’re forced to share the honor of standing by Namjoon’s side with him. It’s a month-long battle of wills. You against Hoseok. Will you snuff out the stars in his eyes, or will another emotion infiltrate your hate-filled heart?

⚠️ Crass language, hurt feelings, BIG misunderstandings, mild childhood misogyny, childhood abuse-descriptions of welts made by a belt, alluded to parental homophobia and fears of coming out, shared trauma, mentions of alcoholism/drinking leading to the arrest of a parent, kissing, safe word/consent, mild dom!Reader sub!Hoseok, clit grinding/cock rubbing, penetration denial, nipple tweaking, biting, unprotected v. sex, cum eating/worship, oral f. receiving Each chapter will have specific warnings listed.

Chapter 1: A Ray Of Fucking Sunshine

Chapter 2: It’s Like Dancing On Moonbeams

Written for @moonleeai as part of the Bangtan Writers HQ July 2023 “ARMY Birthday Bash" Fic Exchange Event. 💜 A special thank you to @downbad4yoongi and @hisunshiine for beta'ing and helping make this what it is!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️   2023-07-19  ColorMePurplex2

#bts hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok x you #hoseok x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #hoseok fluff #hoseok angst #jung hoseok #sub! Hoseok #bts brothers best friend #bts imagines #bts non idol au #bangtanwhq #btsafterdarknet #micdropnet

[atinystraynstay]

I Don't Share - Jeon Jungkook

Synopsis: Jungkook was the one that proposed you should be friends with benefits. You both were single and had desires. Falling in love wasn't a part of the plan though.

Pairing: Idol!Jeon Jungkook x Back up Dancer!fem reader

Genre: Smuttttt! Jealous, posessive Jungkook, friends with benefits - Minors DNI

Contains: public sex, mentions of eating out (f. receiving), light spanking (f. receiving), no protection vaginal sex, slight degradation, creampie, hair pulling

Word Count: 2.6k

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

You were given the opportunity of a lifetime. What started as a way to kill time during the pandemic quickly turned into you flying to South Korea to join BTS in their rehearsals for their Permission To Dance shows. A little over a year later, you were in rehearsals again for Jungkook's solo promotions with the release of his debut album, Golden. You didn't think your life could get better than this.

Never before would you think that your dance studio closing to meet shutdown requirements would grant you the opportunity of a lifetime. Or that you would meet the guy of your dreams.

Jungkook was around your age, so it was easy for you two to get along. You often would spend late nights going over and over the dance routine for performances and the filming of upcoming music videos. His manager would often ask if he wanted a ride home, but Jungkook would always come up with an excuse.

"No, I'm ok. I want to make sure my hyungs are proud of me when they can finally see this!" Which often made the staff smile that he wanted to make his members proud.

Another one often was along the lines of - "No, thank you though. I am just stuck on this one part of the choreography and I think I'm finally getting it down. I will call security to make sure I get home." He promised every single time to use the resources at the company, but he never did.

He always opted to take Uber rides with you. At first, it was because Jungkook liked being able to talk to someone around his age. He had a solid group of friends, but you were new. Coming from the United States, he wanted to know what it was like to be a 20-something-year-old making it work.

The two of you often shared after practices drinks and meals. "You know, we have to nourish our bodies well. Jin-hyung taught me that well."

Quickly though, his hunger turned into something else. Getting to know you, getting to watch how your hips moved with ease, he began to grow hungry for your pussy. Jungkook was a very competitive guy, and he was determined to be the best at fucking you until you see the stars. He wanted to make you cum and scream until you forgot your name, until you questioned your ability to walk after.

Meals quickly turned into eating you out at your apartment. To be fair, it was his favorite meal of the day. He loved getting down on his knees for you, spreading them wide, and exposing you to him. Only or him. He often liked to blow cool air on your pussy to watch you squirm underneath his touch.

Jungkook thrived on knowing the reaction he could pull out of you. He liked knowing you whimpered and begged for him to lick your pussy, to suck on your clit as if his life depended on it. And if you begged well, he would reward you by sliding two of his fingers into your pussy.

Dance practices weren't the only reason why he would come over. If a recording session didn't go well, you offered comfort by letting him bend you and pound into your pussy. Afterwards, you would always talk about how he was feeling but you quickly learned that Jungkook preferred letting his frustrations out physically rather than verbally at first.

There were just a few more performances left for the group. Everyone knew that Jungkook would be enlisting soon, so nobody was taking it for granted. Every dance, every member of the crew, and Jungkook himself were basically putting their all into every dance practice, dress rehearsal, and performance.

You were currently sitting criss-cross on the dance practice floor, your water bottle resting in your lap. Your thumb moved your TikTok FYP up every once in a while. There was a 30 minute break, allowing some people to go grab lunch while others were taking a minute to just relax.

"So, y/n, did you know someone here in Korea before you moved?"

There was often conversation floating among the dancers. Down time and hanging outside of practice were opportunities to get to know one another, and do a little networking. With the days narrowing down on this contract, you were beginning to consider your options. Part of you wanted to go back home, to reunite with family, but you also were having the time of your life here.

Hearing your name, you locked your phone and set it on the floor. There were a few others who joined you on the floor, in their own worlds until the current conversation started. You felt all eyes on you as the question was directed to you.

"No, I actually didn't," You laughed. A year ago, you never would have had the courage to move across the world by yourself. Being here now, you knew it was the best decision. "So a good dancer, a risk taker, beautiful," one of the male dancers began to list.

You blushed at the compliment. One thing that has changed is your struggle to accept compliments. You knew he meant well, but it didn't stop you feeling as if your face had gotten incredibly hot.

"You've got to have a partner, right? Meet someone here in Korea? I mean, Korean men know how to treat you right," he winked.

You heard one of the female dancers scuff. She rolled her eyes at his words, shaking her head towards the two of you. "Don't listen to him. Stay away from Korean men," she warned before going back to eat her salad.

"You're just upset still about your breakup," he muttered. Quickly, that was followed by a loud smack and laughter from the other members. You watched the one male rub his tender arm, apologizing to the woman to his right. Satisfied, she nodded in acknowledgement before going back to her lunch.

The male looked back at you, smiling sheepishly. "Anyways, are you single?" He asked. "You've never met up with us after practice for a quick drink."

Yeah, I normally can't go out because I'm getting railed by Jungkook after practice.

"Maybe she has a boyfriend back home?"

Decided to speak to yourself, you laughed as a way to break the conversation. Eager eyes were on you, wanting to know more about their American colleague.

"That's my bad for not showing face after practice. I normally get tired and want to go home. Sometimes I'm even here practicing a bit more just to make sure I'm as good as you all. I mean, you guys are professionals."

The group smiled wide at your kind words. You weren't sure how you'd fit in as an outsider, especially if you weren't sure if you were going to be staying or not. At the start of this job, you placed a huge amount of pressure to do well especially as you knew that so many people would do anything to be in your position. You wanted the company to be satisfied that they chose the right person.

"Well, now that it's known that we want you here. You are coming out with us tomorrow night." "Yes, you have to! We'll have to show you around the best parts of Seoul." "And hopefully get you with the best guy." "Or at least go home with the best guy."

Your cheeks turned pink again, which caused all the whole group to smile. How could life get any better?

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

The sun had already set by the time you got done with practice. Most of the group had left for the evening whereas you were packing up your duffle bag with all your belongings. While you were very much looking forward to tomorrow night, you always loved a night-in to yourself.

You couldn't help but wonder if Jungkook would want to come over.

"You know, you really should be leaving here by yourself," a voice called out to you.

Startled, you looked over your shoulder to see Jungkook leaning against the practice room door. Speak of the devil. You placed one hand over your chest as your racing heart began to settle, very slowly that is.

"God, you fucking scared me."

He let out a laugh before coming into the room. You only could tell how he was moving by the sound of his laughter growing louder. "Sorry, doll, I couldn't help myself," he apologized. You hummed in amusement as you had your back turned towards him, trying to get the rest of your belongings together so you could leave. Because if he was ready to go, that meant that you were to.

You felt his hand ghost over your hip. Zipping up the duffle bag, you slowly stood up straighter to feel him right behind you. His lips hovered over the shell of your ear, feeling his hot breath against it. You shivered from the effect and with excitement.

"You seem to really be finding your place here," he said.

His voice was very smooth. He knew the effect he had on you, how you were basically wrapped around his finger. And he used it to his advantage. You were a bit confused as to where this was coming from.

"I mean, I overheard you making plans with the other dancers. I think that's good for you." His hand gently caressed your hip, the touch light as a feather. You were almost in a trance from it all. Just feeling his body heat radiate into your back sent a wave of warmth throughout you.

"But there is one thing I do not like." You were about to look over at him, but were cut off when his grip on you tightened. He yanked you back so you could feel his boner right up against his ass. You gasped in surprise which caused him to chuckle lightly. The laugh sending shivers done your spine. "I don't like sharing, angel."

Everything happened so suddenly. One minute, you were getting your duffle bag, the next you were being pinned against the mirrors of the dance studio. Jungkook's grip was tight enough to inform you he was in charge here, but loose enough to slip out if you felt uncomfortable. Yet, his gaze locked on you told you to stay put.

His breathing was a bit rigid, sensing emotions were coursing through his body. What was on his mind? You noticed his jaw was a bit clenched, almost as if he was contemplating what he was doing or his next move.

"Let me make it clear. You are not going home with anyone else besides me. You'll always come back to me."

Oh god, he overheard your conversation earlier. It was starting to make sense.

"I'll have to remind you if that's an issue." "Then mark me up and make me yours."

Jungkook's breathing hitched hearing you. He wasn't expecting such a response from you but it made him so damn weak. God, you were the death of him.

Not one to back down, he accepted your challenge.

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

Smack.

You whimpered loudly at the feeling of Jungkook's hand meeting your left asscheek. It was like an electric jolt. A bit painful, considering he has spanked you repeatedly throughout the evening, but also pleasurable because it made you feel alive. It honestly made you feel powerful.

Jungkook had you on your hands and knees. You were at the dance studio. You knew everyone had left but the thrill of someone potentially catching the two of you turned you on.

With one hand staying on your hip, Jungkook's other hand ran up your spine gently. His touch was still a stark contrast to the feeling of his thick cock sliding in and out of your soaking pussy. Each smack against your ass caused your walls to squeeze around his cock, sending the two of you into a chorus of moans.

His hips rammed into you from behind. It created a rhythmic sound of skin slapping, the two of you moaning, and how wet you were. The last sound caused your cheeks to heat up, much to Jungkook's satisfaction.

The hand on your spine gathered your hair. You were grateful you put it in a low ponytail during practice earlier. Jungkook pulled your head, causing you to hiss in response. The sweet sting of your hair being pulled made you crave more. The sudden movement also caused your eyes to become a bit glossy. Your head tilted back as you met his in the reflection of the mirror.

"Look at you," Jungkook asked. His mouth was curled into a sinister smirk. "You're crying over my cock. Is it not enough for you, hmm? Is that why you wanna go out to meet other guys?"

"No, Jungkook, fuck," he panted out. "You're all I want, all I need." "Oh yeah? Prove it. Cum on my cock. Show me that I really am the only one that can make you feel so damn good."

If it were possible, Jungkook increased his pace. You cried out in pleasure as the intensity of his brutal thrusting caused your arms to give out. You upper half of your body rested against the cool wood floor, causing your ass to move a bit up. Jungkook groaned in appreciation for the change. He couldn't help himself. Smack.

Your mind was hazy. You couldn't comprehend anything besides Jungkook's cock filling and stretching you out. Your vision was getting blurry from the tears beginning to fall as you felt that familiar tingling, warm sensation in your stomach.

In a matter of moments, your vision went white and your toes curled. You screamed out his name. His grip on your hips could be burned into your skin. You never wanted him to stop touching you. Jungkook groaned as his thrusts got harder, determined to meet you at your high. The world around you seemed to stand still while your head was in the clouds.

After a few more thrusts, Jungkook let out a loud groan. You could feel his cum filling your pussy, which sent you into a whimpering mess at the feeling. You felt so content. He also felt content seeing some of his cum spilling out of your pussy once he began to pull out.

He swore you've never looked more beautiful. All his.

Lips were being pressed against your spine. You didn't even register that your body had sprawled out onto the wooden surface until Jungkook gently moved you. Your head rested on his chest, your back on the floor. His hand ran up and down your lower back. His other hand reached up to wipe away any of your remaining tears.

You were bringing brought down to reality. You could register the sound of you two heavy breathing, the slight tremors of your body starting to subside. With your head pressed into Jungkook's chest, you could hear his once racing heart beat begin to steady itself.

"You won't forget about me, right?" "How could I ever forget about you?"

There was a pause. Jungkook was the type to usually have a response, or do something in response to what was said to him. Not this time.

You looked up at him, concerned as you knew something was bothering him. Unfortunately, you got confirmation when you were met with his own glossy eyes.

"Look, I know a lot is going to change over 18 months. I don't care if you stay here in Korea or you go back home. I don't like sharing, y/n, so just promise not to forget about me because I'll come back to you. Every single damn time." "I could never forget about you, Jeon Jungkook. I'll be waiting for you, regardless of what happens next."

#jeon jungkook #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkoooook #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jk #jungkook #bts jungkook #bangtan #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook bts #jeon jungkook x you #bts #bts army #atinystraynstay #kpop #fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts imagines #jk

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

trouble, m | jjk

... aka, jeon jungkook’s dick is so good and your pussy is so heavenly that faith in humanity is restored.

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; a hookup turned awkward meeting at a goddamn McDonalds of all places; smut (fem reader, hair pulling, heavy making out, m-receiving oral, doggy, penetrative sex, fingering, m-masturbation); non-idol!BTS – ft best friend!Park Jimin being a wingman little shit classic

--

“Oh, I’m in trouble.”

Panic coursed throughout his veins.

“I can’t be here.”

And maybe a little bit of arousal too.

“Jungkook, this is a public place,” Park Jimin corrected him. “Anybody can be at McDonald’s.”

He almost got up from his seat, except he was boxed in a corner of a crowded fast-food restaurant and Jimin shoved the tray full of food right in front of his face. The other side of the table held various shopping bags full of things that Jimin thought his mother would like for the upcoming new year. Why did Jeon Jungkook have to be here? Well, he was the one guy from Busan who happened to be Jimin’s close friend and Jimin’s mother’s favorite friend of her son’s. Therefore, Jungkook obviously had to select something for Jimin to buy just so Jimin could say, Jungkook thought you would look nice in this cream sweater, thus gaining maximum best son points.

Yeah, Jungkook didn’t really get it either, but he was told that he was getting free food out of it.

Didn’t think it was going to be McDonald’s, though.

Also didn’t think that his fuck from last night was going to serendipitously appear, standing in line looking drop-dead gorgeous as she pushed the fur-lined hood of her coat back. Her lush hair spilled out in soft waves over the shoulders of that the black suede long-line stunner, far too much luxury for the city mall. And then there was her face. What god thought it would be funny to allow someone to look that effortlessly pretty bare-faced? Who put such sexy eyes on such a cute face? One glance and one would think, how cute with those dimples and pillowy lips, and then do a double take when the shape of those foxy eyes sunk in, holy shit, fuck me right now. Or, at least Jungkook had thought that. Still thought it, looking at her again in the daylight. Tight white top, heather gray sweatpants that didn’t match the lavishness of the jacket, and easy black-and-white sneakers, clearly everything thrown together to grab some food quickly while being a goddamn snack herself.

Jimin was carefully positioning Jungkook’s meal in front of him – fries, massive sandwich with both a beef patty and fried chicken patty, tall Coca-Cola and all, chatting away, and all Jungkook could do was gawk like an idiot.

Like he said, he was in trouble.

Tomorrow.

The ghost of her hand slid up his chest, caressing his skin while her voice curled by his ear, soft lips kissing down his neck.

I hope your friends ask about me.

The image entering his mind, the way she smiled above him, her skin alight from his mood lamp with specks of red light playfully dancing over her jaw, her fingertips tracing his muscle making his heart race, her soft thighs against his, smooth and sleek and making him insane.

The devil was in the details.

“Hello? Did you space out again?”

Jungkook jumped, startled that Jimin was glaring at him. “What?”

Those small hands stiffly pointed to the food spread before them. “Eat? Come on, it’s busy and we don’t want to take up too much time.”

“R… Right.”

He had about two seconds to take a bite out of his sandwich before Jimin casually asked in between bites of curly fries, “Oh yeah, you ran off last night with that sexy lady. How did that go?”

Jungkook choked.

-

That’s all I am, sex and shallow feelings, tch, what an idiot, acting like it was ever anything else, I don’t need anyone and I won’t need anyone, go ahead and act all high and mighty in front of your friends during the day, we all know you’ll be begging to crawl in my bed at night.

Mind a billion thoughts a minute.

You tilted your head and found yourself not that hungry. Still, some fries and a drink sounded good, so you picked that. Reached into the fur by your chest and pulled out your cardholder, tapping it to pay as you continued scowling in your head, trying not to let it show in the form of resting-bitch-face.

Ten minutes before this moment had been an annoying confrontation. You considered if you could have handled it better.

Or more savagely.

You should have pulled up all those messages you had left on read.

Sigh, but, no, you hadn’t thought of it. Ultimately, it wasn’t worth your time. It would have been a childish move. Why was that anyway? Why was it that you needed to be the “bigger person” and not be petty when some guy got all up in your face about you not wanting a relationship as his supposed friends crowded around in a circle around you two, clearly silently intimidating you? In public! Fuckin’ bum-rushed you on the street as if the showy dramatics would illicit shame or obedience. Yeah, because you were a woman who would just kill to be in a relationship, right? You scoffed internally. ‘Cause it was just so important to be in a relationship, more than, oh, I don’t know, actively not being in one that was definitely, absolutely gonna make you miserable?

Also, he hadn’t even been that good in bed.

“At least I am sex. You couldn’t even be that for a slut with as low standards as me,” was your frigid reply before walking away.

You couldn’t understand it. What was so great about relationships anyway? People only got into them for easy sex. A lotta work for a shitty time. You could get laid without the emotional baggage of another, thank you.

Although, sex probably wasn’t easy for people who acted like little bitches.

Hah.

You thanked the employee and accepted your food, wandering over to the drinks fountain with your paper cup. A basic day of running errands on your off-day now ruined by this bullshit. Nothing a little McDonald’s couldn’t fix though. Something about the nostalgia of hot, simple, cheap fast food made it more delicious. You probably should have gotten a sandwich or something, but you didn’t want to be too full and not want to do your errands after. Fried potatoes it was.

Hey, people called you sex, not the epitome of health.

You notched your finger on the tab and watched the honey-sweetened black ice tea pour out of the nozzle, which was the exact moment your intrusive thoughts popped up.

You avoid making deep relationships so that no one will notice when you die.

Thanks, brain.

Funnily enough, no one had ever said this to you. You would think someone would have noticed by now but, no, this was a revelation you made yourself once you were old enough to understand yourself better, and it came randomly while showering. Hmph. Goddamn showers. You slipped past a lovey-dovey couple to sit by the window counter, plopping down on one of the stools to munch on your fries for a bit. Alone. Some people wanted a lot of people to surround them. A sense of community and togetherness. Some people wanted a chosen few, valuing the quality over quantity. And some people were like you, loners who accepted who you were and that was NSFS – not safe for society – patiently waiting for the one that really understood you.

Or maybe there wasn’t anyone like you and you were just delusional about that.

Anyway, didn’t really matter. This kind of thing simply ended with thinking in circles. Sure, you could dwell on the whole question of existence, the why, but you had determined the more important was the who, the self within, and that wasn’t driven by the why. The who was driven by instinct.

If your instinct was to eat, fuck, sleep, repeat, then so be it.

Oh, and occasional responsibilities, like getting your tires rotated. Hence why you even outside today in the first place.

Hah, what a bother.

You munched on your crispy, hot fries and didn’t bother anyone. You learned not to expect too much out of people. They talked a lotta talk and didn’t walk much walk. I want this, this, and this, you heard a whole lot and nobody did it. A speech was all well and good, just not nearly as half as interesting as doing. And if you didn’t want to do it, you didn’t waste time beating yourself up over it. If that resulted in you only hooking up and avoiding relationships that you didn’t feel like committing to, then at least you weren’t disingenuous or fake.

Yup.

Looking out the window, you watched the people rush past with their shopping bags, linking arms with each other to avoid slipping on the sidewalk. Snow flurries falling down, down. The glass was clean enough that you could see inside the restaurant too. Tables with families and friends sharing simple, cheap fast food and turning it into a collective memory. Laughter and conversation echoed around your silence.

The looking glass showed you two ways.

You didn’t mind it, but it was evident you weren’t part of it too.

Hmmmm.

Your gaze stopped at a pair of guys. One of them was wearing a big black bucket hat. You noticed him because large brown eyes were actively staring back at you. Ogling, even.

What the–

You turned slightly and sat up straight with alarm as Jeon Jungkook stiffened and shifted, scooting closer to the person next to him, sneaking a not-so-subtle glance at you. You continued to look back in stunned confusion.

At goddamn McDonald’s?

Is no place sacred?

It was only less than twenty-four hours ago, but last night felt like another world.

-

Your fingers framing your face.

You licked your lips. Staring into his eyes, everything dark except for the mood lamp he left on. Cycling lights slowly drifted on the ceiling in a colorful haze. It was easy to remember all the shit people liked to say about you when you were alone, she’s so pretty but I hear she’s only into casual sex, what a shame, but you found solace in knowing that they had one fact wrong, because casual sex was for casuals and that was the wrong adjective to describe what you did.

Definitely the incorrect one to describe what transpired between you and Jeon Jungkook last night.

Your hand slipped from your cheek, and you touched his skin, bringing his face close to yours, keeping the whispers only in the air that you shared with those trembling lips.

“You’ve got cute eyes, but I bet you can be sexy when you want to.”

What was wrong with this? What was wrong with your comfort zone being someone else’s hands on your waist, pulling you closer? What was wrong with accepting the surge of power you felt licking the side of his mouth, adding slippery friction to the harshness of the metal rings pierced there, drinking in his moan as you teased him? It was just so annoying caring about all that noise trying to get to you, telling you to tone it down, telling you to stop, and, for what, don’t you have shame, that’s not how women should act, no. What they really meant was that was not how they would act. The consensus was to strive to be the respectable audience, always strive to fit in and be the quiet ones.

You envied their desire for silence.

Because you had to be loud.

You tangled your fingers in his long black hair and pulled his head back, running your tongue over his neck, tasting that skin and the anticipation vibrating in those muscles underneath. Admired the shivers under your body as you rolled into him, nice and slow and agonizing, whispering dirty things to him, things you wanted and none of it safe for work, finally bringing his head back down to nip at those gasping lips, intending on turning them pink and prickling with want, kissing him softly in contrast to the way you tugged at his hair every time he tried to intensify it.

“P-Please…”

His hands on your bare ass, hiking your dress up, digging his fingernails in, trying to keep his breathing even as desperation bled into it.

“You said to show you what I like,” you murmured. “I like teasing you.”

You pressed your body to his so your perfume would cling to his clothes, his bedsheets, his skin.

-

This was going to sound dramatic, but Jungkook was pretty sure last night she saved his life.

Actually.

That sounded very dramatic.

And kind of pathetic, so Jungkook kept that thought to himself, but nevertheless he kept that secret close to his chest, next to his racing heart that couldn’t seem to slow down, especially when her nails raked down his back while her tongue snaked around his, sucking on it lightly compared to the force behind her hands, the contrast between kiss and touch causing unbearable levels of arousal. He hadn’t expected a casual conversation to turn into this. He liked to think he was maybe charming, perhaps suave in some cases, occasionally daring, but he didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.

Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.

And Jungkook knew he didn’t want to get in too deep unless he was sure and the truth was that he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to want someone that much. It was fucking terrifying to be that vulnerable. How could he ever be “sure”? If he failed at his own goals, the only one he was letting down was himself. If his plans didn’t go as planned, well, that sucked but it was okay because it was only himself and he could do something about it. But getting his heart broken by someone else – ugh, what could he do about that? Worse, everything became so complicated when people didn’t say what they meant and didn’t mean what they say. It would be nice to experience the good stuff without the chance of getting his heart broken.

Cut out all that risky business.

It was a bit strange that this situation hadn’t felt like a risk. Of course it was, how was it not risky bringing a woman you barely knew to your apartment with the intent to make out and who knows what else, but, hey, the moment had felt right.

Or maybe it was the gods playing tricks on him.

But, anyway, her tongue wrapping around his balls felt amazing.

She pressed her soft lips to the sensitive skin and sent shivers through his legs as her fingernails dragged down his tense thighs. He hoped they left marks, or at least lingered for a few hours. Looking down, and those sly eyes were gazing back, like they knew exactly the effect they had on him. Sparkling when her name escaped his lips in a pleading whisper, glinting in the low light as her head tipped back and her tongue curled underneath his balls to lick that thin skin behind him, making him gasp and almost fall over, his palm smacking into the wall to hold him up. A jolt of radiating pain shot up his forearm, and then her hot, wet mouth surrounded him and swallowed his cock as deep as it would go.

He wanted to say he had made a sexy moan, but he was ninety-nine percent sure his neighbors were awake, so instead Jungkook whimpered and rested the crown of his head against the wall, feeling his hair stick to his face. Apparently, his embarrassing vocalizations didn’t matter though, because her head started slowly moving back and forth. Her eyes closed, humming steadily in satisfaction. His breath caught in his throat, forgetting all about the pain and instead drowning in the pleasure that rose like scalding steam. Ecstasy shimmered through every blood vessel in his body. Soft lips, swirling tongue, tight throat that closed in around the swollen head and pulsed, pulling him in deeper, and Jungkook could feel it, his cock twitching and getting harder, the insistent softness on the cusp of not enough, and yet so much was happening. Flexing wet muscle under the head every time she backed up, trapped in that warm sleeve, her cheeks sucking inward and drawing him deeper every time her lips pressed into his crotch, her graceful fingers fanning over his thighs and ass, stroking his tingling skin in time with her tongue.

Holy fuck.

Maybe it was dramatic that last night she saved his life by blowing his dick with such incredible skill, but Jungkook was sticking to this drama.

Wasn’t casual sex supposed to be wham, bam, thank you, next. Not, holy shit, my cock is so fucking deep in her throat I can feel her neck muscles flexing, but perhaps he had done some good deeds or this year was going to be extra prosperous in the sex front (it wasn’t a question that came up much among those elderly fortune tellers his mom visited, how odd). It had to be something like that, because how was he supposed to know the friend of a friend was going to be, one, hot, and, two, down to fuck, and, three, actually good at it?

And, four.

Readily manhandle him. But not in a threatening way. In an unafraid-to-say-and-get-what-she-wanted way. The direct, forward assertiveness was sexy as hell, but Jungkook wasn’t going to tell other people that he liked it when a woman took charge. That wasn’t exactly small talk. It didn’t come up naturally. He didn’t even tell the women he had previously slept with. It hadn’t felt like the right atmosphere. And, well, the sex was just okay. He figured he had to be careful in what he said when he wasn’t sure if they were going to be long term.

He had to cover his ass.

Speaking of.

Her fingernails sank into his ass and dragged down harshly as she tilted her head back. His throbbing cock slid down along the back of her throat, sending uncontrollable tremors up his chest and down his legs, pain and pleasure and perfection.

Jungkook slapped a hand over his mouth and let out a muffled half-scream.

She started focusing exclusively on the head, back and forth, running her tongue over it with her plush lips constricting the base, holy shit, and his eyes rolled back in his head, his hand falling, exhale thin and thinning out even more as he was reaching the end. It was too unexpectedly good, fuck, it made the muscles in his back tremble and his blood boil, o-oh, fuck, made his heart race and his calves strain with tension, I’m gonna c-cum, made his scalp tingle and his mind go blank with pleasure and he never thought an orgasm could be this intense unless he was the one getting himself off, but he was wrong, he was so fucking wrong, because he could feel the tightening in his core spiraling a bit too much and he was going to lose his fucking mind.

He gasped and screamed under his breath.

The high hit him like the sudden violent snap of elastic, so sharp that he was winded and able to feel the muscles of upper thighs spasm, shooting a rather impressive amount down her throat, almost regretful he didn’t pull out so that he could see how much it was, but none of that mattered, ensnared in wave after punishing wave of indecent, gratified lust flinching through his shaking, hard muscles as he felt his cum fill her mouth.

She swallowed.

Jungkook almost punched the wall, the oversensitivity almost painful, his hoarse voice on the verge of cracking.

“C… Careful…. P-Please…”

Those eyes flickering up, and she seemed to understand. Gently, pulling back just a little. He almost buckled at the sensation of the sucking lessening, such a good feeling but overwhelming in the afterglow, and then it was cloud-nine bliss, achingly perfect in the way she carefully slid his cock along her tongue, his twitching length gliding in the puddle of saliva and cum, repeatedly, soaring high like the moon, the thick viscosity creating a slick friction that was wicked heaven.

He wanted to say, oh, yeah, I lasted a long time after that.

He did not.

I’m in trouble.

He realized that the second she got on her knees on his bed, raised her ass, and turned her head back to smirk at him. Made direct eye contact as he tried to hide his gulp and put on the condom, keeping his hands low so she didn’t see them quiver. He was staring a bit too much, but she simply reached over and took his right hand, caressing his tattoos, and then he gasped as his fingers touched slippery wetness, looking down, and was he allowed to fall in love with a beautiful pussy at first glance or not allowed? Fuck, she even had a cute asshole. Was that too dirty to think or what?

Jungkook didn’t contemplate it too much as she slid his fingers into her, the soft, firm walls wrapping around him.

“Ready?” she hummed.

“Y- Yeah…”

In hindsight, he could have said much sexier things other than, yeah, but that was the least of his problems. Getting on his knees, sinking in, and he nearly blacked out with how good it felt. A steady controlled pulse surrounding him. Somehow, his cock became even harder, his fingers splaying out over the juicy curve of her ass, deeper, so tight, and it was all her, that cute face smiling back at him with the tip of her tongue tracing her upper lip. Naughty smirk widening, captivating foxy eyes filled with mirth shining in the darkness of his bedroom.

Jungkook didn’t even care.

He was just trying not to bust a nut at this excessive amount of sensuality that he hadn’t been prepared for.

“You look very sexy with your hair over your face like that.”

He hadn’t even noticed the strands of black covering his vision because he had been too busy looking down.

“Your back looks… oh, f-fuck… looks so beautiful…”

She grinned and lowered herself on his sheets to push back against him.

He had stuttered because her pussy had squeezed him in between his words. There wasn’t any time to be eloquent anyway, not with the sudden need surging through him at this improved angle, his grip on her hips tightening and thrusting his hips forward, wincing at how loud that smack was, surely someone outside heard, but there was nothing he could do about it, didn’t want to stop, couldn’t stop, sinking his teeth into his lower lip and trying not to add any additional noise, wanted to slow down but it felt so good when he was so deep, so tight and choking his shaft, the sensitive head of his cock rubbing against her walls and swelling. Even with the condom he felt so much, pressure and power and intensity, placing a palm on her lower back and groaning between clenched teeth, the arc of her ass so obvious and the bounce so visible that he would dream about it, all of it, the slaps of body to body, thrusting hard, rough, his ears tingling with her low, sexy moans, too good, felt too good, and he wanted to last longer but just couldn’t.

Threw his head back and yelled under his rushing exhale, straining to contain his cry in his chest.

Didn’t last much longer with a new condom and in missionary position either. He kept staring at her pretty face and perky tits, feverish desire racing with every slap of hips-to-hips, his hair falling into his eyes, struggling to see her hands clutching his pillows, and then she arched her back to give him a full view of those perfect, tasty-looking, hard nipples. Honestly, he was proud of himself for lasting the ten minutes that he did. Five minutes. Er, at least he hoped he lasted more than five minutes.

He was sweaty and gasping but he asked anyway.

“Sorry, I… Are you upset at me?”

She tilted her head, confused. “For what? That felt amazing.”

His face burned as he mumbled under his breath.

“I… I usually last longer…”

“Oh.” Blink. “Oh!” She grinned at him, and it was so devious that Jungkook realized this must not be the first time she had heard that. “I don’t care about things like that. But, uh…”

Her sex saved his life.

Her next words murdered him on the spot.

“You know, when you came, uh… I’m sure you were trying to be quiet and all that, but you sounded a bit like one of those faraway screams that happen in movies. You know, when someone gets thrown far away mid-battle. A very tiny, aaaaaaa…”

Not the best sex of his life comparing his orgasm noise to the Wilhelm scream.

-

You could admit it.

You shouldn’t have said that.

But also shouldn’t people be told of such things so that they became more self-aware? It took everything in you not to burst out laughing in his presence (although you did laugh a lot when you arrived home). And it wasn’t as if you were going to see him again. For a while, anyway. Definitely not the next day at goddamn McDonald’s.

Right?

Wrong.

You gawked at Jungkook until the other guy with him noticed and started staring at you too. Oh, jeez, it was Park Jimin, another one of the guys who had been there last night at the birthday party. You remembered him and his distinctive, bubbly giggling all night. He had a great voice too, making listening to karaoke actually bearable. He was, however, the kind of guy that wanted to be in the know about everything and everyone.

Aw, shit.

You weren’t ready for another repeat of this morning.

Jimin’s round, discerning eyes recognized you immediately even in your casual clothes and lack of makeup. You snapped your head back to your empty paper packaging. Snatched up your cup, pushing away from the window counter and stepping down, winding over to the drinks machine to top off on tea before sprinting it. Hey, McDonald’s wasn’t that cheap anymore. Inflation was a thing. Better get as much as you could before leaving.

You tossed the oily packaging and your napkin before turning around, immediately nearly colliding with Jeon Jungkook.

“Gah!”

“Oh!”

And he grabbed your waist.

Of course, he did.

Your bare waist, because you were wearing a crop top under your heavy coat.

You kept your drink-holding hand out of the way and gasped into his chin, your other hand landing on his left upper arm and squeezing, suddenly tense all over. It was hard and solid under your grip, twice as tense as you were.

“S-Sorry, Jimin pushed me…”

You vaguely heard Jungkook mumbling but you didn’t have time for this, didn’t have time to be let down again by humanity. Didn’t have time for Jeon Jungkook getting into your face about you fucking and dipping, scolding you about being too blunt, and possibly even directly calling you a bitch. Not that you didn’t deserve it. You just didn’t want to find out that cute-faced, criminally-undercover-sexy, surprisingly-a-very-good-fuck Jeon Jungkook could maybe be a shitty person.

Didn’t want to know.

Better not to know.

“S’okay. Let me get out of your way,” you mumbled back, turning your head away.

“You’re not in my way.”

You heard him say it, didn’t believe it, and yet his hands were still around your waist.

“Actually… Please be in my way.”

You froze.

Snapped your head back and found yourself centimeters from Jeon Jungkook’s face.

Oh, I’m in trouble.

He let go of you, slowly, his touch hovering as if you would make a break for it in the middle of this crowded McDonald’s, as if you would bowl over small children and their Happy Meals to escape, sending plastic toys flying in your wake. But you did no such thing, instead holding your breath, realizing how upset you would be if this was another you’re an insensitive whore moment. The truth was that you didn’t care until you did, or at least until you fully comprehended that you were glad to see Jungkook rather than completely indifferent. Why? He hadn’t said anything special. Just, please make it home safely. You had thought that was weird, please. Brushed it off as him being polite or even maybe trying to entice you with that light touch of submissiveness, anything but the possibility of him actually, honestly, straightforwardly caring about your safety.

You learned to expect people not caring for much except for themselves.

“I… Good afternoon,” you managed to get out, stepping closer as a crowd of kids squashed themselves against the drinks fountain, clambering over each other with their paper cups, yelling about how you snooze, you lose even though there was plenty of soda in a fast-food restaurant.

An adult, presumably a guardian, ran over to tell them to quiet down.

“Y… Yeah…” was Jungkook’s strangled reply, startled at you attempting conversation.

You held your sweet tea and tried to lightly bow, but realized that you could hit him in the chin if you did. You stepped aside to avoid that, and then his hand darted out. Stopping. Suddenly aware of what he was doing, stuck on what to do, looking at you helplessly for instruction. This was some love song or romcom movie shit.

No.

This was a goddamn McDonald’s, not awkward-sexual-tension meeting grounds. You grabbed his hand and pulled him along, spinning to find yourself crammed into the table with a grinning Park Jimin and too many shopping bags.

“Oh, hey. Funny seeing you here.”

Jimin was stifling his giggles.

You immediately let go of Jungkook’s hand, your face frozen and expressionless.

“Ah, Jungkook, can you watch my food?” Was it your imagination or did Park Jimin just bat his eyelashes? “I’m gonna go put the gifts in my car.”

Oh no.

“Stay right there!”

Jungkook looked mortified. “Jimin, wait–”

But he did not wait. Ruffled fluffy black hair, mischievous smile, and a whoosh later, those crinkly paper bags gone like a disappearing act, leaving you and your fuck of last night with a half-eaten sandwich and cold fries.

“I… He… I’m sorry,” Jungkook sputtered, jerking erratically.

You clutched your tea like a liquid social safety net. “Sit down. Children are staring at us.”

Sure enough, a small crowd of curious peepers were climbing the low half-wall and peering at you and Jungkook. They were being plucked off one by one by a pair of exasperated ladies who looked like they desperately needed a nap. As soon as one child was removed, another climbed up to take their place. Inquisitive little bundles in brightly colored jackets, pom-pom beanies, and sipping soda from paper cups. Jungkook whipped his head back, exposing his red ears under his bucket hat for half a second, saw the kids, and sat down beside you, turning his back to them.

Now even bigger peepers were directed at you.

“Uh…”

You cleared your throat. Drank some tea. “Erm.”

“I... I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You almost choked on your chuckle. “Yeah, uh… same.” You ticked your head to the outside, in the general direction Jimin had run off too. “Shopping for new year stuff?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Mostly for Jimin’s family. I usually shop online.” He scrunched his face with a little bit of dismay. “It’s too much on the weekends sometimes.”

“Yeah, I’m the same.”

Your knee touched his.

He looked at you.

Don’t look at me like that. I’m gonna want to kiss you.

“And we’re in the middle of a McDonald’s.”

“What?”

You could see stray strands of black brushing against his cheeks. Could see those starry brown eyes under that big bucket hat, those pink lips parted and that small mole underneath them trembling, something you had noticed last night even in the low light because you had been licking up his neck and watching his open mouth, savoring the way his whine travelled by vibration through your insistent lips from his throat.

“I don’t want to make out with you in front of all these children,” you clarified, letting out a slow, concealed breath. “But if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to make a bad decision.”

People only get into relationships for shitty sex.

Right?

I want to be around him.

“Um… I think Jimin wanted to get an air fryer and who knows what else… I’m supposed to carry the big stuff,” Jungkook grumbled, sounding like he wanted to abandon his current adventure for a different kind of adventure. Still, he begrudgingly remained a good friend. “But tomorrow…?”

You weren’t sure if he was aware that he was getting closer to you, practically thigh-to-thigh and shoulder-to-shoulder, but then you put your hand on his coat sleeve. He froze up, holding his breath. He smelled good. Fresh and clean, like laundry from the dryer. He was close enough for you to clearly discern his scent.

Close enough for you to remember.

“I need to get my tires rotated,” you finally remembered. “I’ll call you.”

His cheeks flushed pink. “C-Call me?”

“Yeah, give me your number.”

-

She asked for it like it was easy.

Who cares? Jungkook determined, after all, that he was easy. Or at least his hands were hurriedly fumbling with his phone as he blurted out the numbers as calmly as he could, which was probably not that calm, but who cared? Not him and definitely not his dick.

“Thanks. Don’t forget to answer or I’ll feel dumb.”

“Wait, give me your number.”

She paused, glancing at him. Shivers all over when their eyes connected, and he was sure he saw a guarded flicker in those eyes, but then it was let go, her lashes lowering, casting away the unknown reservation that he hoped she could tell him one day. And yet she stayed silent, turning her phone over in her hand.

“I want it,” he breathed.

Her eyes shifted back up. Ghost of a smirk on those lips.

Like she was trying to hold back.

“I’m going to give it to you,” she whispered to him, and he had to lean in, no, wanted to lean in and the scent of her perfume caught him, sweet and smokey, all those memories flashing back, in the dark with fistfuls of his sheets and breathing in, his pillows, his blanket, his clothes, heavenly and arousing. “Just saying I come with a warning label.”

“What kind of warning?” Jungkook found himself asking even though he was desperate to indulge in this risky business.

“I’ll never let your last that long,” she purred with a smug smile. “Don’t give up, okay?”

Jungkook felt his cheeks burn as he typed down the number and kept his retort to himself because Jimin suddenly appeared and the conversation was abruptly over. He jerked his head away quickly as she mouthed a tiny aaaa under her breath, teasing him, and this was a bad decision but he answered the call anyway when it came.

-

What are you doing? You don’t do relationships. People don’t like the way you do things. They’re complicated and full of secrets. They can’t be honest. You’re too honest. It doesn’t work.

Your intrusive thoughts had worked the graveyard shift and were now doing overtime.

They don’t like you.

You weren’t that surprised at these thoughts. You also did the absolute most when fucking and probably not enough outside of fucking. Some would call this karma. You would call it a nuisance. Shut the fuck up, brain. You already knew all this. You knew and you muted all that sound, all that excess noise that warned of tomorrow being ruined, chose to shut it all out until there was nothing but the melody of Jeon Jungkook’s bated breath.

You could listen to your head and let those thoughts fuck everything up.

Or you could place your fingertips on Jungkook’s lower lip and feel his gasp travel through your nerves, feel the way your blood shimmered in your veins and raced faster. Caress that pink curve to stop at his lip rings, tangible, hard and soft juxtaposed. Breathe out, your eye line lifting, up, finding those large dark brown orbs surrounded by wispy black tendrils.

Jungkook wanted you.

That was pretty obvious, especially from his hands trying to slide up your skirt.

He was just waiting for you to start it off.

You could listen to your head or choose to feel and listen to your instincts, dangerous as it was.

I’m in so much trouble, fuck.

You knew it, and yet you leaned in and kissed him anyway. Something about him, the way his eyes instantly closed when you came close, the way he trusted your eyes wouldn’t stay open, the way his lips gave in to your insistence, no, yearned for it, his fingernails sinking into your hips and yanking you close, onto his lap and into his heat, and then it was darkness and tongue and breathing into his mouth, hot and unnerving and addictive.

You hadn’t even noticed you had closed your eyes until you felt your hands sliding into his hair. Barely even perceived how you held your breath when your chest pressed against his, gasping, too many clothes in between and all the anticipation, dancing your nails over his scalp and sucking on his tongue, his melodious moan melding with your heartbeat roaring in your ears.

What is this?

You rolled your hips into his lap and Jungkook groaned, breaking the kiss and tipping his head back, his hardness twitching between your legs, insistently pressing up through his sweatpants as his neck became exposed. And there was nothing you wanted to do but press your lips to that mole on his neck, tasting that tan skin and inhaling his scent, wanting to be covered in it, drenched in it, dancing kisses up his jaw and catching his ear with your teeth, tugging on his hair and rocking your hips back and forth, turning hot friction into hot, damp friction.

“I c-can’t…”

His moan rang in your ears, his fingers pushing up the sides of your panties and driving them into the crevice of your ass, creating a damn thong with too much fabric.

“Can’t t-take it anymore…”

Pulled hard and you gasped, feeling the slinky fabric slip in between your folds, soaked and soaking, strong hips knocking into that dug-in fabric and practically bouncing your pulsing pussy on his rock-hard erection.

You curled your arm around his head and tipped his face to yours, seeing his glassy eyes and open mouth, his shaking breath feathering against your chin, and if Jeon Jungkook was a liar, then he was a damn good one, one of those liars so deep in the lie that it started becoming truth.

He whispered your name in the shared air, between his and your trembling lips.

He’s too desperate to be a liar.

You closed the distance between lips and tangled your tongues in the tango, lifting your hips at the same time, smiling at his whine before silencing it by pulling his hand between your legs, pushing the thin fabric aside, and then the collective sigh. Yours, shivering satisfaction. His, driven desire, fingers exploring and sending shivers through your legs. Wet and slippery and soft. Pressing his face into your neck and then gasping when his soft lips pressed to your throat, light kisses and wanton need, his other hand sliding up your sweater, pushing it up.

I want you.

He slid two fingers into you and moaned into your skin, slow, pressing his touch into your clenching walls, his eyes closed under you. In, out, building pleasure, your hips following, riding his hand, deeper, intense, hard, his tongue licking your collarbone and your lashes fluttered, suddenly overcome by shivers.

“I w-want you…”

He gasped against your throat, almost a whimper, those pleading eyes half-opening. Pulling out slightly and rubbing slow circles that made your hips flinch, his fingertips brushing against your slick clit, and those brown eyes darkened, tipping his head back to watch your face. His fingers on your waist tightening, holding you in place, shifting his fingertips, and you bit back a hiss, locking your knees, staring back into his starstruck eyes that showed you everything he was as he stroked your clit, igniting all your nerves and scorching your skin in passionate flames.

You saw what Jungkook was saying.

He wanted you so bad, not just a little, not just for a couple orgasms, not just for every night but also every day, even every afternoon and every twilight and every dead of night. Every kiss, every touch, every look into the eyes telling you this meant more to him than casual and for some reason it didn’t feel like a burden.

Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.

Suddenly, you realized neither you nor him were getting the damn memo.

You leaned forward and breathed in his exhale, squeezing his hips with your thighs, harder, yes, so good, fast and harsh and closer, closer, pulsing sensitivity escalating, your fingers tangled into his long black hair, entangled moans slipping out, fuck, yes, I’m close, Jungkook, fuck, and he was good but this was more than skill, more than half-lidded eyes and your hand falling, tracing his jaw, biting back your orgasm until…

Until.

“I could stare at you forever,” you breathed.

Closed your eyes and moaned into his mouth, the high crashing down, leaking all over his fingers and causing his touch to slip, dripping down, everywhere, all over the front of his pants and down your legs, and there was no time to care, dragging Jungkook into kiss after kiss, driven by snaking pleasure coursing through your veins. His wet fingers grasped your thigh, kneading the softness, his whines trapped by kisses, begging for your legs against his naked chest.

How could you refuse him?

You just couldn’t.

-

I’m so fucked.

Truly, madly, deeply fucked.

Past in trouble and actually in danger, danger, you’re seconds away from cumming, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth so he felt something else, anything, please, clutching fistfuls of his sheets and wondering why the fuck the condom wasn’t reducing any sensation because, holy fuck, his cock was trapped in a hot, slippery, tight sleeve that pulsed around his twitching, hard length every time he descended. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe, could do nothing but follow that carnal instinct to thrust over and over, deep as possible, the angle so good he closed his eyes so they didn’t roll back into his head even though he was hopelessly losing his mind at the sensations of her, so soft, so intense, so good his legs were shaking with tension, the rhythmic smacking obscenely loud, rattling bedframe echoing throughout his bedroom.

“H-Harder,” she gasped breathlessly.

Harder?!

Was she trying to kill him?

She lifted her hips and Jungkook knew he was fucked.

He threw all of his energy into his hips and sunk his teeth into his lower lip, his lip rings hitting his teeth. Metal hitting bone. Screaming in his head and tightening his vocal chords, thankful to see her eyes closing, her head tipping back, low satisfied moan of his name travelling to in his ears and then all that he was keeping together shattered and slammed into him, heat rushing and mind-numbing, euphoric high punching all the air out of his lungs, visceral tension snapping at his hips and now he was pumping the condom full, o-o-oh, fuuuuck, her walls shivering and amplifying the good feeling of sexual intoxication, his vision a blur, only now realizing all the sweat sliding down his back and forehead, his damp hair swinging down over his eyes, and maybe lasting a only a couple minutes but it was a damn good couple of minutes if Jungkook was allowed to say so himself.

He was panting, hardly able to catch his breath.

It wasn’t enough.

Fuck, he was so horny and he was barely recovering from his first orgasm. Didn’t know what came over him. A wave of insanity? Inconsolable craving? Willful sacrifice of his soul to the sex goddess in his bed right now? Dramatic, sure. Casual, no, pushing his palms against the bed, shuddering as he pulled out of that tight warmth, almost regretting it, but then he looked down. At the shiny slickness, his white cum swollen at the end of the condom. He gripped the opening and pulled down, peeling it off with a whine, and Jungkook was pretty sure he was overwhelmingly crazy or overwhelmingly horny or both, because why else would he scoot his knees up and start jacking his spent dick like a madman, whimpering at the sensitivity and the slippery friction and the scene before him – her legs lowering from his shoulders, those curious eyes glinting under him, her soft, bouncy breasts rising and falling rapidly in her heavy breathing, fuck, so sexy, so fucking sexy, faster, tighter, staring at those hard nipples he wanted in his mouth right now, so fucking bad.

He let his eyes flicker up.

Gasping, baring his depravity.

She smirked, her tongue tracing the edge of her upper lip.

“Cum on me, Jungkook.”

Words so simple that they could be said by anyone, but this was different, this was too much intensity, too much irresistible pleasure, too much too sure about this feeling, this moment, this connection, and then her fingertips slid up his hard, tense, trembling thigh, sinking her fingernails in and dragging down, those stings of pain sending him over the edge.

“A-Ah, fuck!”

His eyes rolled back and his hips pitched forward, flinching powerfully and shooting cum over her stomach, up her cleavage, sudden streak of white glistening against her skin, jolts of aching bliss penetrating his quivering muscles. Shared gasp, everything smelling like sex, his bedsheets, his clothes, his skin, mixing with her perfume. Sweet like candy and heavy like lust.

Jungkook wanted to douse himself in it.

Her cum and her perfume.

He pressed the dark, purple-red, swollen head of his twitching cock to her cum-covered stomach and moaned, dragging it across and slipping further and further into blinding oversensitivity, on the edge of too much but he liked it, fuck, he liked it more and more as he saw her sly smirk and foxy eyes sparkle, savoring his reactions. It made him want to give in to this side of him more.

Her hand lifted, fingers curling around his chin, stroking his lower lip with her thumb.

“You’re so sexy, Jungkook. I love the way you look at me.”

Something about the way she said it, making him feel that she really meant it.

No, know that she really meant what she said.

His heart fluttered. Took flight.

No.

Soared.

They really were such simple words, nothing complicated at all, and that was how Jungkook knew.

He was sure.

--

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

[forlix]

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞・l.f.

— five times you want to tell your best friend you love him and the time you finally do.

words・7.7k

pairing・idol!felix x gn!reader

genres・fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn w/a happy ending, 5 + 1 trope, idiots in love who are also afraid of love, you do the math

warnings・alcohol consumption, discussions of anxiety, lots of emotional vulnerability, like a surprising amount of crying icl

playlist・jazz bar by dreamcatcher・spring day by bts・through the night by iu・eight by iu ft. suga・house song by searows・not mine by day6

a/n・i borrowed the title of this beautiful day6 song for this fic; give it a listen if you can (especially while reading part four). happy late birthday, lix <333 thank you for being you

One. The door to the café opens with a soft jingle, bringing a chilly draft into the room and causing you to draw your scarf tighter around your shoulders.

Theoretically, you come here to study—but people-watching has become a simultaneous pastime. There was that couple with a pair of samoyeds, so fluffy that they looked like walking clouds; a mother and son, hunched over their croissants, arguing in a classic “don’t cause a scene in public” tone; an elderly woman in bicycle shorts asking for extra shots of espresso in the menu’s most caffeinated item.

And now, there is him.

“Hello,” the ashy-haired stranger says to the barista with a quick, polite bow. “May I have a medium caramel latte? Hot, with sweetener, please. Thank you.”

His voice reminds you of the notes of a cello, of the feeling of running your fingers through tufted velvet. When he turns away from the counter, he’s slipping a card back into his wallet, and you catch a glimpse of long lashes and a scattering of freckles. You cannot see his face, as it’s covered by a black mask, but that only propels the question further: who are you?

And perhaps it is destiny herself who hooks a gentle finger beneath the stranger’s chin and tilts his head upwards, because when he inadvertently steps into a patch of sunlight, his brown irises illuminate like molten amber, and they are fixed upon you.

You feel your lips part, your stomach turn. You don’t know if your cheeks are so warm because of your piping hot tea (your third one today) or because of the newfound eye contact with someone so ethereal.

But you are sure that the corners of the stranger’s eyes crinkle ever so slightly, as if his lips have just curved into a smile beneath his mask.

“Felix,” the barista calls, and you turn the name silently on your tongue.

Maybe you are exhausted from work and not thinking straight. Maybe you are more starved for change than you’ve ever been. Or maybe you’re just prophetic. But you think you sense forever in this man, with his freckled cheeks and pretty eyes.

That is the first time you want to tell Lee Felix you love him.

Two. The second Felix comes into your line of vision, you sense that something is wrong.

You hold up a hand in greeting, and the smile he returns is sincere but muted, as if it pains him to move, to breathe. He sounded weary on the phone earlier—can I see you tonight? Just for a bit—but only now that he’s in front of you do you see the extent of his fatigue, seeping into his sunken shoulders and lightless eyes.

“Hi,” he says once he’s close enough.

“Hey, you,” you answer, rising out of your seat. Instinctively, he extends his arms toward you, and you draw him into a hug that is fleeting and familiar. He smells faintly of laundry detergent and vanilla, and it makes something within you ache, like an oyster searching for its absent pearl.

When you pull away, your hands move to your best friend’s cheeks, cocooning his face so you can get a better look at him. Even under the sparse streetlights, you see that his eyes are slightly bloodshot, the shadows beneath them deep and sullen. Has he been crying? 

“Bad day?” You ask, your hands falling back to your sides.

“The worst,” he returns with a weak smile. 

“Wanna take a walk?”

“Yes, please. How long do I have you for?”

This is what you do when your schedules are too packed for you to make real plans: take strolls wherever is most convenient, for however long either of you can spare. Sometimes that’s five minutes, sometimes five hours. But you know that you need to be here for him tonight.

“As long as you need me,” you say.

You turn around to pick up your drinks (a decaf caramel latte for Felix and a black milk tea for yourself), and you don't see the way his smile comes back a little bigger the second time, the way his cheeks warm slightly under the moonlight.

There’s a small park a few blocks behind your apartment. Granted, it's not a very good park, with only a tiny, sad playground and very little foliage, but it is an excellent stargazing spot, due to it being so dark and desolate. You and Felix decide to head there now, your arms touching as you walk through the quiet residential area.

Ten minutes later, blades of grass are poking the back of your head, and directly above you is a sea of scattered stars, flickering like millions of faulty flashlights. Felix’s voice is leaden when he starts to speak, breaking the park’s fragile silence. He tells you about his fears, about how earlier today they overwhelmed him so much that he wanted to lock himself away from the world and throw away the key. He tells you about his dreams, about how even in his relentless pursuit of them they sometimes still feel as amorphous and unattainable as fragments of mist.

The way he always does when he’s around you, Felix spills parts of himself that he never thought he could entrust to anyone. And you don’t say a word, your knee leaning against his, listening, understanding. (But you wish you could tell him a lot of things: that you care for him more than you ever believed yourself capable; that you hope for his happiness more than your own; that you don’t have the words to heal him, but you would give anything to find them.)

By the time the two of you leave the park, it’s almost midnight, and the streets have fallen silent save for the occasional whoosh of car wheels on cement and the distant lamentations of cricket choirs. You’re making small talk now, and Felix is smiling a little easier. It seems your conversation worked in cheering him up; a temporary fix, you’re sure, like a bandaid where stitches should be, but seeing his eyes crinkle and hearing his laugh again is enough to soothe your worry for the rest of the night, at the very least.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay going back yourself?” You ask once the two of you reach the entrance to your apartment building.

“Yeah, of course.” Felix touches the back of his neck apologetically. “I’m sorry I kept you out so late.”

“Nonsense, Lix. I’m always here for you.”

Felix averts his eyes to his shoes, and you’re caught off guard by his facial expression: exhausted but contemplative, and possessing a sense of tenderness. It is a look that you don’t think you’ve seen before, and you feel your heartstrings pull at its unfamiliarity, its strange softness.

You say your goodbyes, but your "let me know when you get home safe" is cut short when you feel a hand catch your wrist, just as you’re entering the building.

How Felix doesn’t notice your frantic pulse beneath his touch is beyond you, but instead he parts his lips, and his next words resound in your mind as you try and fail to fall asleep that night.

“I can’t explain why, or how—but I feel braver when I’m with you, Y/N. I meant to tell you that earlier.”

And those three words rush to your mind fleetingly, like saltwater crashing against the shores of your mind. Even when the tide has subsided, they remain on the sand, waiting to be read aloud.

“Thank you,” Felix mumbles, “for everything.”

You don’t read out those words, of course. Instead, you reach up to squish Felix’s face and call him a sentimental dork, to which he rolls his eyes affectionately and bats you away, and the moment is over. But when you turn to go, your heart is pounding so loudly that your reply may as well have been a confession.

Three. You sink into your mattress, careful to keep your tea within your mug’s rim, and let out a hybrid of a groan and a sigh that is strikingly reminiscent of an old man lowering himself into a worn armchair.

You can’t remember the last time you had a cold this terrible. It feels as if your lungs took a plunge in a vat of wet cement and then rolled around in gravel immediately afterward. And it’s got you in the mood to do nothing but listen to the heavy drops of rain knocking against your window, curl up with a good show and a hot drink, and bask in your own congestion.

But then your phone, which you left in the bathroom, emits four deafening notification sounds, and you haul yourself back out of bed with a groan-sigh that’s twice as anguished as the last.

When you reach the hellish device, your best friend’s name greets you, and your ire dissipates momentarily.

From: Lix 🐣 Hey hey From: Lix 🐣 We still on for dinner tonight? From: Lix 🐣 Just gonna be me, Minho, Seungmin. Jeongin has a vocal lesson From: Lix 🐣 Please don’t play the “if Jeongin doesn’t go neither do I” card again I’ve had enough of it!!! ENOUGH

You let out a throaty laugh that sounds like one of Minho’s cats battling a hairball, heading back to bed.

From: Y/N 🌙 ahhhh i meant to text you earlier, but i have the worst cold From: Y/N 🌙 no clue how or why i caught it but i feel like fucking shit. it’d be a bad idea for me to come over right now From: Y/N 🌙 sorry :( can we raincheck in a few days? From: Y/N 🌙 (that way jeongin can come too!!!)

Felix dislikes this last text, and you snort into your tea.

From: Lix 🐣 Yeah, of course. Don’t apologize From: Lix 🐣 Do you need anything? You’re eating and sleeping well, yeah? From: Y/N 🌙 sleeping, YES.  From: Y/N 🌙 eating, not really 😅 but i don’t have much of an appetite anyways From: Y/N 🌙 don’t worry about me. i’ll be raring to go in a day or two

Felix starts to type a response, but the gray dots disappear after a bit, and you set your phone face-down on your nightstand. He probably has to get back to work, and you have to get back to your episode.

Slowly, the soporific fragrance of chamomile and the lull of relentless rain start to weigh on your eyelids, and you slump unconsciously into your makeshift fortress of blankets, your show playing to nobody.

Night has fallen by the time the door of your apartment clicks open, and Felix pokes a head into your dark kitchen, cautiously calling out your name. When you don’t respond, he slips inside and moves to your kitchen counter, where he unloads the bags in his arms. A spare key to your place dangles from the opening of his hoodie pocket. 

There’s a quiet knock on your bedroom door, another call of your name—infinitely softer this time, like how one would speak to a dove. But Felix finds you out like a light, even when he closes your laptop and puts it on your desk, checks your temperature with a gentle hand to your forehead. It feels normal enough to let you sleep, but warm enough that he brings a glass of water and two pills of ibuprofen to your nightstand, placed within your reach, should you wake up in the middle of the night needing them.

Using only the slivers of light coming in from the hallway, Felix allows himself to look at your sleeping form. Your breathing is callous but steady; your face pallid but peaceful. And if only you'd seen see the tiny, helpless smile that pulls at his lips; if only you'd heard the pulse protesting against his skin, yelling at him “do something about this, you fucking idiot, and do it soon."

But you don’t see or hear anything; you just speak, instead.

“Stay with me,” you whisper, and Felix’s hand freezes on your doorknob, his eyes widening in the darkness. “Please?”

There is a lengthy period of nothing, during which neither of you makes another noise; there is only the sound of your clock ticking, raindrops rushing against the windows, and Felix’s heart in his ears.

And then he moves.

“C'mere,” Felix murmurs once he’s lying down next to you, and you nestle into his embrace as easily as if you've always belonged there, your face burrowing into the crook of his neck, your arms winding around his waist, searching for him, asking for him.

Felix has always expressed his affection for people through touch, and you’ve gotten used to his constant hand on your shoulder, his leg resting against yours. But he thinks this is the first time you’ve initiated physicality outright, and he feels a concerned pang in his chest at your unexpected vulnerability. He lifts a hand to cradle the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair.

“Gonna get you sick,” you say with a wet sniffle, your voice muffled against him. And Felix presses a kiss to the top of your head, perhaps without thinking as much as he should have; but who can blame him for forgetting to think when he’s holding you the way he is?

“Don’t care,” he answers readily. “I'm not going anywhere.”

At some point before you fall back asleep, you think your mouth actually forms the words I love you, subtly and silently and into the fabric of his hoodie. But you resume your slumber before you can think more of it. (Felix waits until your breathing is steady again, checks your temperature one more time; and only afterward does he allow his eyes to close.)

The next morning, you wake to an empty bed and a Post-It note explaining that Felix had to run to a recording session: Check your kitchen! See u soon x. Accompanied by a small, messy doodle of a baby chick popping out of its egg.

Your face melts into a smile when you see that the fridge is chock-full of fresh groceries and the pantry has been restocked with your favorite snacks, including a batch of Felix’s world-famous sea salt brownies—accompanied by another note with another doodle, this time a crescent moon wearing your sneakers. Sugar is prolly bad for you rn. Pls have in moderation!

When you pull out your phone to thank him for everything, you see his remaining texts from yesterday—and you feel momentarily empty, as if only then noticing that you've been missing a fraction of your soul your whole life.

From: Lix 🐣 I’ll drop by tonight to check on you From: Lix 🐣 Wait for me, okay?

And he is right in front of you, just out of reach.

Four. “This isn’t a bad idea, right?” Chan asks under his breath.

“Nah, they’ll be fine,” Minho replies, clapping a hand on the leader’s shoulder. “Y/N will take care of him.”

A loud yelp comes from up ahead, and the men whip around quickly enough to crack a joint—only to realize that the noise was the opening note of DAY6’s “Not Mine,” and you and Felix have just launched into song so terribly and so loudly that it’s probably awoken the entirety of Seoul.

“And who’s gonna take care of Y/N?”

The two men look at each other for a moment before deciding they’re not interested in talking the two of you out of a disorderly intoxication charge. 

“Let me know when you get back!” Chan hollers after you, and they reenter the karaoke bar in a hurry.

The members decided to go out for karaoke after finishing promotions earlier that week, and Felix invited you to come along. And you might've gone a little overboard with the mango sake, but your level of tipsy is nothing compared to that of the blue-haired boy draped over you.

Felix is rather prone to hangovers, you’ve discovered from past experiences, so the moment he started speaking in some kind of nonsensical Korean-English mutation that not even Chan could understand, the members tasked you with taking him home early. Now, Felix has his arm around your neck, less out of affection and more out of a genuine requirement for support, doing his best to walk in a straight line. He hasn't stopped grinning for the last hour, and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to run out of energy anytime soon, not as long as there’s more of DAY6’s discography to butcher.

In spite of your foggy mind, you're well aware that your best friend has never been prettier. He sets the bar high as it is, but then you throw in the flushed lips and cheeks, the lopsided, ditzy grin, the wine-kissed complexion, and life becomes terribly difficult for you. It doesn’t help that alcohol amplifies his proclivity for physical contact—he's been attached to your hip all night, holding your waist, pulling you into incidental hugs.

Needless to say, your current situation is a bit precarious; but you don't know that. Not yet.

The two of you finish your disrespectful rendition of “Not Mine” just as you pass the apartment’s front desk, and it is only when you see the deadly look that the receptionist gives you over the brim of his glasses that you finally feel sober again. You have the sense to incline your head in apology. Felix, however, launches into “You Were Beautiful” without a care in the world.

You dig a pointed elbow into his ribs as you hit the up button, and his singing abruptly falters with a pained huff. "Ow."

“Take an intermission, superstar,” you say. “The receptionist looks like he’s ready to throttle us.”

“Ah, he would never. We’re tight,” he returns, and before you can stop him he’s lifting his head, raising his voice. “Have a good night, Mr. Seo!”

Your nose scrunches into an apprehensive wince—but instead, you think you hear a hint of a smile in the man's cool reply.

“You too, Mr. Lee. Keep your voices down, please.”

“Yes, sir!” You and Felix reply in unison. Felix gives you a smile that says I told you so before he nestles his cheek against your shoulder, and you shake your head. Nobody is immune to the boy’s brightness.

Entering the building seemed to be effective in calming Felix down. The elevator ride up is silent save for a bit of quiet humming, and you finally see a bit of sleep on his face when you open the door of his dorm and turn on the living room lights. He lets you escort him to his bathroom without a word.

“I’ll be here if you need me,” you say, reaching to pat his cheeks a couple times. “Be careful in there.”

“M’kay. Thank you," he says with a drowsy smile, and closes the door.

You pull out your phone and open up your messages with Chan, remembering his parting request.

To: Chan 🐺 we got back safe!! To: Chan 🐺 lix is gonna be okay. i'll take care of him

A few minutes later, a notification appears at the top of your screen; Chan left hearts on both of your messages and sent two in response.

From: Chan 🐺 Thanks, good to hear :) you get some rest too, okay? From: Chan 🐺 Bro tore that sake UP

You begin to type back a retort—give me a break it was basically JUICE—when you hear Felix call your name, his voice muffled through the bathroom door.

“What's up?” You answer.

“I think I’m...stuck.”

Now what the hell does that mean?

“Can I come in?”

“Mhm.”

You open the door, and your attempt to suppress your laughter fails with flying colors. Felix is well and truly stuck in his crewneck, the gray material swathed around his head, his arms positioned in some kind of advanced pretzel formation.

“You are a hot mess, Lee Yongbok," you sing, moving toward him, and he whines from inside his cotton prison.

“Please don’t kick me while I’m down.”

Grinning, you bring your fingers to the hem of his top and attempt to lift it over his head. He’s managed to tangle himself quite impressively, and the next few minutes are spent with you trying to extract him, like he’s that one nose hair that your tweezers have never been able to reach, all while he's moaning and groaning about the fabric catching on his earrings, about his joints not being able to handle this kind of pressure anymore.

He emerges from the crewneck a while later looking positively disgruntled. You toss the gray mass onto the counter, proud of your handiwork.

“So maybe I‘m a hot mess,” he concedes. “A little bit.”

“That's alright. We all have our moments,” you giggle. “Come on, let me help you with your jewelry.”

For a second, he looks like he’s about to protest—but the look you give him reminds him that his motor functions are currently on strike.

“Okay,” he mumbles adorably.

You position yourself a little closer to Felix and lift your hands to the nape of his neck, where the clasp of his chain lies. It takes you a few tries to undo it, and you end up having to use the mirror above the sink for guidance. Soon, there is a soft click. You set the chain down next to the crewneck before your hands return to the sides of his face, this time to tuck long, light blue strands behind the cuffs of his ears. Your fingers run over the curves of his silver earrings.

“Are these bothering you at all?” You ask nonchalantly. “I forgot you had so many piercings.”

In your peripheral vision, you see Felix’s lips move, but no sound comes out. Puzzled, you move your eyes to meet his, and it takes you one blink’s worth of time to understand the source of his speechlessness.

Somewhere between your reaching up to touch his necklace and the present moment, you’ve come incredibly, dangerously close to him. Close enough that you can count the freckles that speckle his skin like fallen stars, that you can feel the heat of his body against your own, that Felix’s eyes are nearly crossed trying to maintain eye contact with you.

Your heartbeat lodges itself firmly in your throat, and your thoughts evaporate into complete and utter disarray. There are three differently-worded apologies on the tip of your tongue within seconds. You immediately start to pray that he won’t remember this tomorrow morning. And your strongest impulse is to move; to get as far away from him as possible, before either of you does anything you'll regret.

But there is something that overwhelms your every instinct, and stops you from budging an inch. And that is the way Felix is looking at you, unblinking brown eyes filled with something that doesn’t have a name. It is the same tender expression that’d surprised you the first time you saw it, and it is with a spiraling stomach that you finally realize what that expression is.

You reach your conclusion a second after he does.

Felix’s hand lifts to cradle your jaw, his face moving closer to yours. Your foreheads touch, wisps of his hair falling over the bridge of your nose, your senses engulfed by the vanilla of his cologne and the touch of sweet wine on his breath. The scene is as delicate as a dragonfly’s tail dipping into a pond’s surface; even a minuscule disturbance would shatter this limbo instantaneously.

A part of you wishes that it would, but nothing does. There is only his pulse, perceptible through the thin cloth of his tank top, vehement beneath your fingertips—and your heart, naked and frail, sitting upon the palm of his hand.

Felix doesn’t push you away; he doesn’t kiss you. He does something far worse.

“I love you,” he whispers.

A few seconds. That is how long you stand there for, with every word of every language you know inaccessible, every qualm and doubt and source of anxiety that plagued your mind moments before now distant memories, every ounce of your energy channeled into keeping yourself upright.

But the few seconds feel like forever. The same way he has always felt like forever to you. The same way you imagined you would spend forever loving him, close enough for him to love you back, but far enough that he’ll never know the true nature of your affection: greater and truer than anything anyone would ever call friendship.

An urgent question suddenly surfaces in your mind: is he still drunk? He was falling up, down, and sideways minutes ago. Surely this was an intoxicated slip of the tongue. But you discern the slight tremble to Felix’s breathing and the intensity in his heavy-lidded gaze, all far too intentional, far too conscious to be wine-induced—leaving behind one impossible possibility.

You should be having your happy tears kissed from your face right now. You should be over the moon, relishing in the sensation of two stars aligning at long fucking last, the way you’ve dreamed of since the very first time you laid eyes on Felix.

But instead, you just feel inexplicably and profusely afraid.

You won’t remember the specifics of the next few minutes. You think you stumble away from him and whisper I’m sorry through watering eyes, though you don’t really know what for. He sputters something in return, his tone so desperate and confused that you feel your heart break to pieces on the spot. You apologize again, leave the bathroom, and move towards the apartment door as if your life depends on it. In your peripheral vision, you notice the crease of concern on Mr. Seo’s face when you stalk past him, tears now flying freely down your cheeks. You run into Minho and Jeongin when you step out of the building, and you see the worry that creases their faces, hear their voices calling your name. Jeongin's hand closes around your wrist—are you okay?! What the fuck happened?—but you do not, can not say anything, not right now.

And then you are alone again, and you briskly walk the two miles back to your apartment. Your mind and heart are every bit as foggy as the somber night sky that hangs over your head.

Five. When the two of you step out of the restaurant and into the evening, Felix turns around to face you, launching into his best tour guide walk.

“And, with that,” he says with a glowing smile, “we are nearing the end of our tour of Sydney.”

“Noooo,” you lament, reaching your arm out. Felix falls back into step beside you and links it with his, the movement like clockwork. Your jackets scrunch up together where your elbows bend. “Already?”

“Okay, the tour’s been going on for two days and you haven’t paid a cent for my toil. Don’t push your luck.”

Your laughter spills into the otherwise quiet avenue, the setting sun throwing shadows across the cement, but it always feels like midday when you have the brightest man in the world by your side.

When the two of you discovered you had a free weekend on the same days, Felix conjured up the idea of going home—and suggested that you go with him. You’d freaked out for a bit, but then Felix reminded you that his mom texts you on your birthday and that you’re on multiple different subscription plans with his sisters, and you collected yourself quite quickly. There was a lot of cheering over the phone when Felix informed his family that they’d finally get to meet you in person.

But such a fast trip to the other side of the world proved to be no easy feat. Felix took on the task of piecing together a travel plan that would cover most of his favorite spots in forty-eight hours. The last two weeks were filled with him fretting over the details and you fretting over him, asking time and time again if you could help with anything, only for him to shoo you away with a single hand and a pointed “you are my guest. Now leave me.”

With assistance from every other resource at his disposal, though, he pulled it off, and the weekend has been wonderful thus far.

“I think that was some of the best food I’ve ever had, seriously,” you hum. “I’ll be dreaming about those appetizers for the rest of my life.”

“I'm glad. It took a Socratic seminar to choose the place, after all."

(The Socratic seminar in question: a two-hour FaceTime call and an intense match of rock-paper-scissors between him and his siblings, aimed to decide on where Felix would take you for dinner the second night. Only for his mom to ignore all of their efforts and insist upon her own choice of restaurant instead—no ifs, ands, or buts.)

“We have to try your sisters’ recommendations the next time I visit, don’t we?”

“Yes," he returns, shuddering. "I think my family is done for if we don’t."

He has one place left to take you, and the two of you head there now, shoulder to shoulder, arm in arm.

A month has passed since that night.

You’ve tried with every fiber of your being to put the whole thing from your mind, of course to no avail. You see Felix’s flushed lips and gentle gaze every time you blink; you hear his “I love you” every time you’re alone, the words whispered in the wind and dragged over the earth, in tandem with your footsteps.

You wanted to fucking die of awkwardness in the few days following, but it was never an option for you to avoid Felix for long. The two of you still went on convenience store runs together; still met up for coffee before work; still continued your business as usual, against all odds. And you owed it all to Felix and how he knows you better than you know yourself. He didn’t try to talk to you when he sensed that you had nothing to say; nor did he try to bring you back when you felt miles away. He would just silently slip a pack of your favorite cookies into your grocery basket or order your drink on your behalf.

Felix had questions and wanted answers; there was no doubt about that. But he held his tongue, granted you as much space as you needed to come back to him. And you did, in your gradual, meticulous way.

You’re finally going to bring it up tonight. You’ve planned to since the day you confirmed the trip, and you hope that the final stop of the tour will be the perfect place to bite the bullet.

“We’re here,” Felix says.

The two of you have arrived at the bank of a wide river, and you’re at a temporary loss for words. To your right is a bridge that spans the distance of the water, and to your left is a stunning, panoramic view of the city of Sydney. Twilight has turned the buildings into dark silhouettes against the autumn sunset, and the water reminds you of a palette of oil paints with how it reflects the pinks and oranges in the sky.

Felix feels you tighten your hold around his arm, and he smiles when he sees the wonder in your eyes. He wishes he could see this place for the first time again.

“Not bad, huh?”

“No,” you murmur. “Not at all.”

“C’mon.”

Felix leads you to the center of the bridge, where he props his elbows atop the metal railing and looks over the water. You join him and pull out your phone, but no settings or adjustments render your camera capable of capturing the landscape's beauty.

(Until Felix throws up a peace sign and pokes his head into the corner of your frame. Then it stands a fighting chance.)

“What is this place?” You ask, your shoulder touching his when you also lean over the railing. “Why are we the only ones here?”

“Crazy, right?” Felix says proudly. “I dunno. I think it might be private property, or something. But it’s only a few blocks away from my house and on the way I used to take to school, so I used to come here all the time, always around this time of day.”

Felix’s gaze moves over the sky, oblivious to the fact that his eyes hold whole rainbows of their own.

“There was never anyone around, but I could still hear the birds chirping and the wind in the leaves. It felt like a corner of the world had been sealed off just for me. I’m glad to see that nothing’s changed.”

Some time passes, and Felix tells you more stories about this peculiar bridge: how he asked someone to formal and got rejected and came here to reflect on his actions; how he had to take two different buses every day because his school was so far away from his house, but he always stopped here to feed the families of mallards that came out to swim in the mornings, even if it meant he’d be late; how this was the last place he went to before moving to South Korea, because he knew he’d miss this nook of Sydney most.

Of all the places you've visited, you think this one will remain with you longest. As time elapses, the colors of the sunset augment and deepen, dyeing the world in ways that remind you of the aurora. And then there is the man, wearing a gentle smile to match his softened features, his voice to your ears what honey is to a sore throat, telling you about his past, letting you into yet another chamber of his soul.

You are in no way prepared to butcher the sanctity of this moment, but you know that you can only run for so long and so far. You owe it to him. You owe it to yourself.

When the sun’s final rays are clinging the faraway mountaintops, Felix lifts himself off the railing and stands up straight. “Ready to go home?"

And your hand finds his, the pads of your fingers cold against his skin. Felix is surprised at first, but then he sees the hint of sadness in your eyes and the tension in your shoulders, and he understands what’s coming.

“I want to talk to you about that night,” you say.

Felix doesn’t respond for a few seconds. But when he does, his voice is so soft and so infuriatingly kind that hearing it makes you want to sob.

“...you don’t have to, Y/N.”

“No. I do,” you return, startling even yourself with the firmness in your voice, "I don’t want to keep dancing around the topic, not when you’ve been waiting for as long as you have.”

You feel Felix’s gaze on your face, as if he’s trying to read between your lines, and then he yields with a slight incline of his head.

“Okay.” And the stage is yours.

You don't start talking right away, your mind reeling with the effort to organize everything you feel and verbalize everything you want to tell him. It isn’t until Felix gives your hand a gentle squeeze—you’ve forgotten that you’re still holding his—that you feel rooted in the moment again.

It’s Felix you’re talking to; your soulmate, your sunlight. Nothing you are about to say will ever change that. This, you believe with every fiber of your being. 

So you take a deep breath.

“When you said those words,” you begin, and the words sound alien in your voice, despite how many times you’ve rehearsed this conversation in your head, “I couldn’t process a thing. I was so happy, but I was so, so scared. I’ve spent the last month trying to figure out why I was so scared, and I can’t say that I know for sure yet, but I have a much better idea now, and—it’s a lot of things.

“For as long as I can remember, I have only ever been able to love profoundly and deeply, with everything in me. And over time, I led myself to believe that nobody would ever be able to understand or reciprocate my love, not in the manner I want most.”

You feel yourself starting to waver, but you find strength in his touch.

“But you changed that, Felix. You walked into that café that afternoon with your voice and your smile, and suddenly I’d found you—someone who experiences life the way I do, who loves the way I love. And every day since, I’ve been surrounded by you and your effortless warmth and your beautiful soul. It was only a matter of time before I started hoping, constantly and stupidly, that you would one day love me, the same way that I—”

Your voice catches in your throat like a heel slamming into car brakes, “love you” hanging so dangerously from the tip of your tongue that you’re stunned it doesn’t fall out right away.

“But that’s why I’m fucking terrified,” you go on. “When you told me you loved me, I felt like I could fly. But I also felt like I was falling—and maybe this is because I was still tipsy, I'm not really sure—but in that moment I saw a world where we weren't there to catch each other, where something had gone horribly wrong and I'd wake up one morning and you’d—you’d just be a distant memory.

“And that was the thought that shook me so badly: losing you. Leaving you.” You’re crying now, tears paving golden trails against your cheeks. “For whatever reason, that was the first thing that came to mind, and it broke me.”

You need to wrap it up, and fast, if your faltering voice and racing heart are any indication.

“I meant it when I apologized to you that night. I’m sorry, Lix. I’m sorry I made everything so fucking complicated. I’m sorry that I ran away. I’m sorry that I hurt you, or worried you. But I want you to know that I feel more for you than you will ever understand; I just need a little more time to put it into words. So, wait for me—”

Your eyes squeeze shut, and you finally cave, your last word coming out in a shattered rasp.

“—please.”

And the syllable has barely left your mouth when Felix lets go of your hand, only to bring his arms around you and pull you to his chest with such urgency that the breath momentarily leaves your lungs.

When you fall against him, you fall entirely apart. You have no idea where all the feelings are coming from, only that they’re suddenly overwhelming your every sense. And you start to cry, really cry, your fingers seeking refuge in his jacket, in his hair. 

The sun departs at last, and night starts to fall. You lose track of how long you remain in this position, shaking with hushed sobs, fighting to regain control of your emotions. But Felix stays with you through it all, muted tears of his own intermingling with yours in the material of his scarf. He holds you carefully yet fiercely, like you really will crumble if he lets go.

And he waits, because of course he does. He would wait lifetimes for you.

One. The way you thaw is like melting snow.

It happens under your nose for the most part, but it is slow, sure, and irreversible, and you open your eyes one morning only to realize that the world outside has changed—and so have you.

You roll over and pick up your phone. There are unread messages from Felix sitting in your notifications, probably confirming the plans you made to get coffee before work today, but you put them on hold for now. Instead, you open up your camera roll and find an album, labeled with a sun emoji and yellow heart.

You made this a few months after you met Felix, and you’ve doted on it since, in the sense that you update it almost every day. Funnily enough, though, you’ve never looked through the album just to look through it. Maybe because you’ve never had the time or felt the impulse, but more likely because you know that the album is a visual time capsule of your relationship with the most important person in your life—which has never been purely platonic for you, despite how hard you’ve tried to change your heart.

Looking through it would mean acknowledging your true emotions, something you’ve never felt ready for.

Now, you open the album without a second thought, a preemptive smile on your lips. And you find yourself swept out of your bed and thrown back inside each of the pictures you see, reliving the moments as vividly as if you’re watching them on film.

This is one of your favorites, taken during a late-night tteokbokki run to a small restaurant behind Felix's company building. Felix was laughing so hard at one of your stories that he could only take bites of his meal every five minutes. His face had broken into a dazzling grin, his figure blurring as he lurched forward in his seat, trying to pull his hood over his face in secondhand embarrassment. Snap. He is always handsome, extraordinarily so, but you think you love the way he looks here most of all: every guard of his lowered, carefree, happy.

Another is from the first time you met Chan. Nowadays, your interactions with the boys consist mostly of running into them at Felix's dorm and making friendly small talk. But it's always been different with the oldest member. The first time Felix introduced the two of you, you clicked straightaway, and you had to have spent four hours after dinner just talking, scouring the city for something cold to eat. By the end of the sweltering summer night, the three of you were perched atop a short stone barrier in a secluded corner of Seoul, right outside the best bingsu place in all of South Korea. Felix had leaned over to steal the last cube of mango from Chan’s bowl, to Chan's dramatic protest. Snap. And Chan is like a brother to you now; you will never be able to fathom how much light Felix has brought to your life, be it through him or the people he loves.

A computer screen displaying a League of Legends scoreboard, in which Felix has died more times than there were minutes of the game. Snap. You (not sober) in the center of Felix's living room, your body poised in what is supposed to be the chorus of “Queencard," Felix and Bin completely losing their shit on the couch. Snap. His head bowed in anguish over a bowl of brownie batter after he mistakes salt for sugar. Snap. A low-quality, tiny Felix on stage, the brightest grin on his face when he finally manages to spot you in the nosebleeds. Snap. Your dining table creaking under the weight of all the gifts he got you for your last birthday. Snap. Him and one of your best friends from home, arms around each other, peace signs thrown up, beaming. Snap.

There are countless more, and they are all so incredibly near and dear to you, all thanks to the freckled boy in each. 

You respond to Felix's messages (“be there soon!”), and then move to get dressed. There is a new sense of certainty in your gait when you emerge from your building and into the quiet morning.

The weather is lovely, the fresh sunlight cream-colored against a cloudless sky, the light breeze shuffling the new leaves about. A hound’s ears twitch when you hurry past its home; it is too drowsy to investigate your presence further. The only sounds in the air are the chattering of sparrows in the branches above you and the soles of your shoes, moving quickly across the sidewalk. The wonder in the world is more palpable to you today than it’s ever been.

Soon, the chalk-written menu and hand-carved wooden sign of your favorite café come into view, and you open the door. There are only a few customers inside, and you spot your person right away: his long, dark hair partially pinned back, his figure flattered by a black long sleeve and jeans. He has a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, as well as two drinks on the table before him: one caramel latte and one black milk tea.

When he hears the door jingle, he looks up, and the smile that melts across his face is so fond that you can’t believe there was ever a time when you doubted his feelings for you.

The way his loving smile mirrors onto your face is as inevitable and involuntary as destiny herself.

“Hi,” Felix says, rising from his seat.

“Hey, you,” you answer. “Wanna take a walk?”

And so you do.

You link arms, as always; you try each other’s drinks, as always; you manage to talk about everything and nothing all at once, as always. But when his company building comes into view, your footsteps come to a halt, and your hand fastens around the cuff of his sleeve.

“Hey, Lix—"

When his eyes meet yours, the sun hits them just right, and you have not known anything as clearly and certainly as you do right then.

“—I love you.”

Felix can only stare, his eyes so wide that you can see the whites of them all around, his straw falling from his parted lips.

Then, a smile starts to creep across his face like spilt syrup.

“Say it again.”

“I love you, Lee Yongbok.”

He sets his bag and drink down on the pavement. “Again, please.”

“I love you,” you repeat, starting to laugh. “I love you, I love you, god, I love you, Felix, so fucking much—”

Felix brings his hands to either side of your face, leaning his forehead against your own. And this time, there is no hesitation, no fear—only starlight when he tilts your chin up and finally, finally presses his lips to yours.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, hordes of them flapping so fervently you feel as though you might take off into the air, but you seek out his elbows, then his shoulders, and then the back of his neck, anchoring yourself to the earth, to him. Felix kisses you like he will never be able to again, and it is all you can do to savor how the curve of his smile feels against your own; how he murmurs the words “I love you, too” in between breaths. He tastes like sugar and smells like shampoo. He feels like forever.

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

#lee felix x reader #felix x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #lee felix #felix #stray kids #skz #lee felix imagines #lee felix fluff #felix imagines #felix fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz imagines #skz fluff #stray kids scenarios #felix scenarios #*oneshot #*writing #IT'S DONEEEE IT IS FINALLY DONEE #i hope you like reading as much as i loved writing it! #i'm ngl i'm quite nervous because this is the first full-length fic i've posted on this blog so #any and all feedback would be so so appreciated! much love <3

[captain-joongz]

fanfiction recommendations/my favourite reads in 2023

♤ in pursuit of wedded bliss by @fantasyescapes17

regency au, each members has his own story, but they're interconnected

choi seungcheol

◇ push it down (sooner or later it all comes out) by @dontflailmenow

camboy!seungcheol, ex's best friend!seungcheol, enemies to lovers

♧ down bad (so so bad) by @lovelyhan

idol!seungcheol x pet sitter!reader

☆ always only you by @honeyhotteoks

brother's best friend!seungcheol, friends to lovers

♤ caught in a trap by @cheolism

brother's best friend to lovers au

kim mingyu

☆ a sheep in wolf's clothing by @rubyreduji

virgin!mingyu x experienced reader

♤ creep by @smileysuh

serial killer!ghost!mingyu, touch starved!mingyu, halloween fic

ot8

◇ skz drabble by @leviackermanscleaningbuddy

a/b/o, cnc, primal play

♧ sharing = caring by @cbini

bf!chan sharing you

☆ camcorder by @tasteracha

bf!minho x reader x chan, a little pervy chan

♤ five for five by @bh-archive

chan x hyunjin x hongjoong x san x juyeon x reader

◇ some things are better left unknown by @roseykat

chan x felix x reader, threesome

lee minho

♧ dilf!minho by @cinhomi

dilf!minho x baby sitter!reader, breeding kink, pregnancy talk

bang chan

☆ bad idea by @hyunsvngs

step dad!chan, getting together, infidelity

hwang hyunjin

♤ dressing down by @jl-micasea-fics

best friends to lovers, mutual pining

lee felix

◇ best friend felix by @ddyskz

best friends to lovers, fluffy smut

♧ felix + thigh riding by @straykeedz

☆ cockwarming by @dreaming-medium

coworkers au, secretary!felix, office sex

ot7

♤ shadows we trust by @remedyx

supernatural au, mystical creatures!bts, dark circus au

◇ masked miracles by @remedyx

hybrid!bts, detective!reader

♧ stay alive by @staytinyville

mythical creatures!bts, supernatural au

☆ trouvaille by @spookyserenades

hybrid!bts, witch!reader, supernatural au, some horror themes

♤ eternally theirs by @imnotlauriane

dragon!bts, soulmates au, knights au

◇ the lucky seven by @riphobisbraces

hybrid!bts, princess!human!reader

♤ emerald gem by @sweetlyskz

hybrid!bts, reader has a farm, strangers to lovers

♧ oh, little red by @jincherie

wolf!yoongi x reader x wolf!jimin, red riding hood au

min yoongi

☆ celestial ruin by @remedyx

fallen angel!yoongi x angel!reader, corruption arc

♤ fxck a fxckboy by @yoongifis

fuckboy!yoongi x smartass!reader

kim taehyung

◇ isn't that what brothers do? by @aris-ink

step brother!taehyung, forbidden romance, dub con

♧ black swan by @aris-ink

step dad!taehyung, manipulation, corruption, cheating

☆new flame by @gimmethatagustd

alpha!taehyung x omega!reader, heat sex

jeon jungkook

♤ family secrets by @aris-ink

step brother!jungkook, dry humping

◇ icarus by @aris-ink

step brother!jungkook, risky/sneaky sex

♧ close by @aft3rhrs

step brother!jungkook, forbidden romance

choi soobin

☆ let's play a game by @anyamaris

soobin x reader x yeosang (ateez), friends to lovers, primal play

♤ closed doors by @last-words-ofashootingstar

soobin x reader x hongjoong, idol au, obsessed!soobin

◇ super shy! by @fairyofshampgyu

shy virgin baker!soobin x experienced reader

♧ i &lt;3 nerds by @enha-cafe

nerdy!soobin secretly a sex god au

multiple members

☆ drippin' by @ncteez

'00 line x reader, friends to lovers, birthday orgy

♤ cookie jar by @neopuppy

step brothers!jeno and jaemin x reader, stuck in a dryer au

♧ sos by @neopuppy

a/b/o, sex pollen au, pollen induced heat/rut

lee jeno

☆ shameless by @neopuppy

step son!jeno x step mom!reader, infidelity, very dub con

♤ hand kink by @jaylaxies

roommates au, hand kink

lee mark

◇ i can help by @recklessmark

step dad!mark, corruption, manipulation, infidelity

ATEEZ rec list pt. 1 | pt. 2

#kpop fic recs #seventeen fic recs #seventeen fic #seventeen smut #seungcheol fic #seungcheol smut #mingyu fic #mingyu smut #seventeen x reader #svt fic #svt smut #stray kids fic recs #stray kids fic #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #ot8 x reader #poly skz #bts fic recs #bts fic #bts smut #bts fluff #yoongi fic #yoongi smut #taehyung fic #taehyung smut #jungkook fic #jungkook smut

[silantryoo]

nakamura kazuha x le sserafim!reader (fluff)

WARNINGS ; scheming, possessiveness (non-toxic)

kazuha lived a hectic life, almost as hectic as her mind.

at age three, she decided to throw herself into a raging fire.

she had listened to one of her close friends (as close as children could get at that age, at least) rave about how fun their after-school activities were. how she felt like the spotlight was on her, and only her.

kazuha would never admit it, but she craved attention. she yearned to be seen and be recognized, to be watched and to amaze. her after-school activities (read: watching cartoons and drawing stick figures for her parents to interpret) left her with a restlessness, one that relayed onto her parents.

("kazuha! stop cutting holes into your blankets!")

nearly all her childhood memories consisted of school and ballet. it was a monotonous rinse and repeat. each day, she woke up with the dull sensation of aching and routine.

it was fun. it was exciting.

kazuha knew she was good. there was no doubt about it. she would get comments from other parents, praising her, and her mom and dad constantly walked around with their chins held high, knowing how well they're daughter performed.

she was a performer. an amazing one at that.

it didn't go unrecognized. as soon as she reached high school, she earned herself a hefty scholarship, attending one of the most rigorous ballet academies in the world.

kazuha had everything a ballerina could ever want to achieve, but somehow, a sudden emptiness started to consume her.

ballet was fun. kazuha knew what to do to get the spotlight. she knew how to catch the attention of the audience. it was a test, a rigorous evaluation of everything she knew in each class, in each recital.

it was a test, one which she had studied.

but nakamura kazuha wanted to perform.

she would've lied if she said she joined hybe purely out of ambition.

kazuha knew about kpop. she wasn't born in the last century. she, although not as diehard as her roommate, liked blackpink and bts. she knew their discography well enough to attend concerts, and her roommate usually blasted some random song from an idol group while washing the dishes.

(she refused to mention her secret twitter page that somehow shifted into a blackpink fan account.)

when she had gotten the email from hybe, kazuha was more than hesitant. she heard horror stories about the training, how foreigners were forced to speak a language they knew none of. kazuha was already accustomed to how rigorous ballet was, but she knew that the language barrier would be the final straw to making her break.

still, she couldn't do this forever. she couldn't die doing ballet, of feeling the dull ache of something missing.

"i don't know." kazuha sighed, gritting her teeth as she thought about that email again.

Dear Nakamura Kazuha...

("how did they find out my email address and my full name?!")

her roommate sighed. "i think you should."

"and leave everything behind?" kazuha shivered at the thought. change was fun as it was scary. "what if my parents say no?.

mina shook her head. "as if they would. they know how your brain works."

kazuha couldn't disagree with her. her parents were her number one supporters. if she decided to be a cashier at the nearest 7eleven, they would support her.

"besides," mina smirked. kazuha always became worried when her friend was smug. "i heard some of the izone members-"

l/n y/n.

"izone?"

kazuha hadn't known much about izone in all honesty.

all she knew was that miyawaki sakura, honda hitomi, and yabuki nako were in the group. she had heard their songs, and although she had always wanted to get into them, she never had the time.

but then there was you.

your minju-unnie said that it was okay that your family group disbanded. she said that it was an opportunity for growth and change, and despite her face full of tears, you tried your best to believe her.

packing your bags was the hardest thing you had to do. your roommates, wonyoung and yujin, were quiet and solemn. it was unlike the three of you. your unnies always heard shouting from your room, whether it was you and yujin arguing over the air conditioning, or wonyoung begging you to go shopping with her.

you were their maknaes.

now, you were no one's.

being a group of thirteen, someone was always left out, no matter how hard eunbi or sakura tried. sometimes, it was one of the two. other times, it was willingly hyewon, trying to avoid working.

sometimes, it was you.

everyone grouped up. yujin and wonyoung were going back to their company, starship. hitomi, sakura, and nako were getting ready to fly back to japan. yena and yuri talked to a bumbling and restless chaewon, crying into their arms. chaeyeon and hyewon were in the corner, worriedly watching eunbi as she scanned everyone's faces.

"y/n-ah."

you turned around, wiping the tears off your face.

"minju-unnie." you couldn't help but smile at the older girl.

minju was your rock.

she was a year older, and almost, if not more, confused than you about the whole idol thing. she was shy and insecure, always double-checking if things were done right.

but she was always there. minju always cared, even when she didn't have time to care.

she was the older sister you had always wanted (regardless of whatever chaewon and yena said during interviews and lives).

"give me a hug."

"okay."

you smiled, holding her tight. you could feel her tears dripping onto your shoulder, and her hand gripping your shirt.

minju was afraid, just like you were.

"i'm still your unnie after this, okay?" you didn't know if minju was trying to convince you or herself, but it didn't matter. "talk to me about anything."

you pulled back.

why did this feel like a goodbye? why did it feel like everyone knew this was a goodbye.

you didn't want them to leave. you didn't want them to forget you.

"unnie-"

"i'll be okay." minju could always read your mind somehow. "everything will be okay."

"okay." it'll be okay. everything will be okay. you'll still have your family members. "i trust you, unnie."

a week later, you, chaewon, minju, and sakura received an email.

everything will be okay.

being okay came in the form of nakamura kazuha.

you had seen her on that video call, talking in broken sentences with a cute accent. she read the paper in front of her, and you could visibly remember the light reflecting the hiragana pronunciation from the back.

a month later, she flew in.

nakamura kazuha was pretty.

a soft knock echoed through your room, the vinyl drowning it out after a few moments. the clock on your table read one am.

it could've been anyone of your group members at this point. maybe it was yunjin, dragging you out to go eat with one of her friends (despite it being past midnight). it could've been sakura, just wanting to sit next to you as she knitted. maybe it was eunchae too, claiming your room was colder despite her living in a different dorm complex. maybe it was chaewon...

you shook your head. chaewon wouldn't leave her room.

the door creaked open, puppy eyes staring back at you.

"hi."

kazuha.

you smiled. part of you was glad that minju never took the offer from hybe, otherwise she would pester you nonstop about your (extremely obvious) crush on the japanese ballerina.

you waved your hand, telling her to go inside. the younger girl beamed at you, a red tint dusting the apples of her cheeks.

"i got something!"

you raised an eyebrow, sitting up as you tried to peak at what she was holding.

"what is it?"

kazuha blinked, trying to calm herself down from bursting at the thought of spending time with you.

it didn't matter to her that you two had been friends for more than a year. being near you was enough to make her heart double in size.

"i, uh, i bought a lego set." she couldn't show that her confidence was wavering. "yunjin-unnie doesn't wanna do it with me."

you frowned.

you loved yunjin as much as the next person did, but you hated it when kazuha talked about her. the ballerina seemed to worship the ground that yunjin walked on.

the worst part was the fact you couldn't blame her. back in izone, there was a moment in time when you had done the same with one of your former members.

minju still teased you about your former crush.

the room went quiet, and kazuha could tell that you were caught in your head again. she always wondered if you thought about her when you were lost in your thoughts. maybe if she knew, she would find the courage to tell you her true feelings.

kazuha fiddled with the box, her voice suddenly a whisper.

"do you," kazuha blushed harder. "do you wanna do it with me?"

although you knew that kazuha most likely went to you after yunjin had said no, you couldn't help but agree. it didn't matter to you that you always seemed to be kazuha's second thought. all that mattered was that she thought of you.

you nodded, and the younger girl couldn't help but smile brightly.

("it'll be a good excuse for you to confess! maybe you'll even kiss her."

"unnie!")

you moved aside, letting kazuha sit across from you. she couldn't help but blush at the feeling of your covers. your room always seemed softer and brighter than hers, just like how you seemed prettier than everyone else.

kazuha sighed. maybe yunjin was right. maybe kazuha had fallen a bit too much in like and ended up in love.

she didn't mind though, not when you felt so familiar to the spotlight.

"these flowers are pretty." you looked closely at the orchids, humming as you traced the box with your finger.

mina had always mentioned how she was a sucker for pretty girls. she vividly remembers the two of them in their second-grade science class, kazuha tensing up whenever her teacher came near, or the time that one of her closest friends back in the academy complimented her physique, and she stiffened up so hard that she strained her neck.

when she first saw you during that video call, she was more calm than she expected. kazuha knew that she was gonna meet her celebrity crush, and the thought of you knowing she existed nearly made her brain short-circuit but she prepared. kazuha wasn't weak-willed.

and then she met you in real life.

somehow, she had forgotten how to speak at all.

("kazuha, right?"

"mmh!")

even after two years, she still struggled to form thoughts around you. it wasn't her fault that you were pretty.

kazuha cleared her throat, her face heating up as she realized how long she had stayed silent.

the two of you got to work quickly, the lull of the record playing. pieces of lego scattered your bedsheet, the two of you (mostly just you) struggling to figure out which piece went where.

"so..." you fiddled with a piece, one that you assumed to be the leaf. "you got these for yunjin-unnie?"

kazuha snapped out of her daze, too focused on completing the set in front of her. she always got too into these things.

"huh?"

"the flowers." you smiled, holding back an 'aw'. kazuha was too adorable for her own good. "you said yunjin-unnie didn't want to build them with you."

kazuha couldn't help but avoid your gaze.

she knew that you weren't exactly the best when it came to anything that required hand-eye coordination and focus. she also knew that she desperately wanted to spend time with you. you had been too busy meeting up with your former members and she had been missing you a bit too much.

she had seen the set while window-shopping.

they looked easy enough, one that wouldn't confuse you as much as the other ones, but hard enough to make sure it took more than one sitting.

it was a perfect excuse.

"oh, um," kazuha didn't know why it suddenly got so hot in your room. "no, i got them just because."

you glanced at her, watching as she toyed with the piece in her hand. you had no reason to doubt the younger girl, but you had to admit it was odd.

you couldn't complain, however. kazuha was here, and that's all you wanted.

the two of you continued, you looking over every so often. the scattered pieces seemed to never end, and despite the younger girl's dexterity, your lack of seemed to prolong the process more than it should've (just like she had hoped).

"this has a lot of parts." you muttered, feeling bad. "i think you picked the wrong person for this, zuha."

kazuha, like always, smiled at you as if she was smiling for the audience.

"i don't mind it taking long."

it was breathtaking.

"if you say so..."

you yawned, rubbing your eyes as you curled up against the futon.

you loved comebacks more than an idol should. it was fun to roam around, exploring the building of whatever showcase it was. being the only extrovert in le sserafim, you also made it your duty to help the others (and yourself) connect with whoever you seemed to cross paths with.

most days, you would already be outside, introducing sakura to whoever walked by.

not today. not when you were running on three hours of sleep.

"y/n-ah," sakura's voice echoed in your brain. "did you see my iron anywhere?"

"chaewon-unnie had it last." you yawned out.

sakura glared at her leader, watching as chaewon dug through her comically large bag. she needed to use it after the show. chaewon couldn't look like a mess in front of min anyone.

the leader stared you down, your peaceful body irritating her.

"snitch."

your mouth dropped open.

a couple years ago, back in izone, chaewon wouldn't dare insult you (although snitch was barely an insult). it didn't matter whether you barged into her room unannounced and left the door open, insulting you was off-limits.

as one of your unnie's once said, insulting you is equivalent to scolding a kitten who didn't know any better.

"i'm telling eunbi-unnie!" you whined, pouting.

chaewon laughed, pinching your cheek as if your threat meant nothing to her. you were basically her little sister after all. the worst thing that your 'mom' would do was scold her.

"like you told her about your crush on zuha?" chaewon snorted as she saw how red your cheeks had suddenly gotten. "how she's so pretty when she dances and how you wanna kiss her?"

you slapped her arm away, embarrassed. you should've known that eunbi had told chaewon (and probably the rest of the other girls) about your infatuation with the ballerina in your current group.

maybe that's why wonyoung gave you a thumbs up when she saw you and kazuha gathering drinks for the rest of your members.

"kkura-unnie!" you turned to the eldest, her figure hidden under a purple blanket. "chaewon-unnie being annoying again!"

you stared at the blob, waiting for it to utter a word. something that hopefully defended you from your child-like leader. sakura tended to take your side, anyway, except when-

you squinted, watching as the blanket shook up and down.

was she...

"stop laughing!" you groaned, throwing your head back.

you thought that somehow, especially since hong eunchae was in your group, chaewon and sakura would stop treating you like a maknae.

it seemed to be worse now, the two throwing jabs at your unrequited crush when the three of you were left alone.

"when are you gonna ask her out, y/n-ah?" sakura sat up, her voice drowning out the door opening. "you can't pine forever."

eunchae looked around, her eyes beaming with curiosity.

"ask who out?"

chaewon screamed as the youngest's voice echoed from behind, her eyes wide open as she jumped onto the couch. somehow, sakura followed with her, the sheer volume of the leader's voice frightening her.

"jesus, eunchae..." chaewon clutched her heart. "you scared me."

beside her, sakura's head hung low as she tried to catch her breath.

eunchae chose to ignore the two, glancing at you with shining wonder.

"who are you gonna ask out, unnie?"

she already knew who you were talking about. eunchae wasn't dumb. she saw the quiet glances and the bright smiles you and kazuha sent to each other. she knew that sakura saw it too.

but somehow, neither you nor your ballerina did.

you bit your tongue, debating whether or not to tell the younger girl in front of you.

you trusted eunchae. the young girl knew how to keep a secret unlike some people (yunjin and chaewon), but you also knew she had a tendency to meddle when the chance was given to her. it was why your junior, minji, and chaewon were so adamant about keeping her and her friend, haerin, away from each other.

you hummed, blurting out the second name that you could think of.

"minju-unnie."

"minju-sunbaenim?" eunchae shook her head. she didn't know you were this bad at lying. "as if chaewon-unnie would let that happen."

all eyes shifted to chaewon as her ears burned a firey red.

"yah!"

eunchae rolled her eyes, pouting as she ignored her leader's half-hearted scolding.

"so?" the youngest continued to press. "who is it?"

you shrugged, not knowing that the two of you were thinking about the same girl. "no one."

"but-"

the door opened, kazuha and yunjin entering the cramped room with a boxful of cheesecake.

chaewon frowned. she had told them to get real food. not dessert.

"what is that?" chaewon glared at the white reflecting the lights.

yunjin looked down, half confused and half serious. "it's a container...?"

with a deep breath, chaewon closed her eyes. she always wondered how eunbi managed to keep some sanity when choi yena, kang hyewon, and ahn yujin were all under her care.

part of her knew that if yunjin was added to that mix, eunbi would combust.

"but i ordered rice...?"

chaewon looked at the proud smile on her member's face. "it's made with flour, so it's close enough."

huh yunjin was gonna give her an aneurysm.

"have you told her yet?"

being ambushed while drying her hair wasn't exactly how kazuha wanted to spend her night.

in all honesty, she had mentally prepared herself to confess to you later today. from the moment her six alarms rang, she knew that she'd do it.

she didn't take into account how many people would stop by and say hi to you.

kazuha frowned. why did you know so many pretty people?

"no..."

yunjin frowned, pointing at her with the fork in her hand. "you said you'd do it today?"

kazuha loved the thrill of the spotlight. she loved showing the world that, not only was she talented, she was confident. she held herself with a poise that she knew many people could never compare to.

kazuha never crumbled under the presence of the spotlight.

why was it so different with you?

"told who what yet?"

kazuha spun around, her eyes wide. it had slipped her mind eunchae usually drank a caprisun around this time. something about her nightly routine...

(kazuha tried to pay attention, but eunchae talked fast, faster than she could translate in her head.)

"what?" yunjin laughed awkwardly, her mouth scrunching up. "told who what?"

leave it to yunjin to make things obvious.

"you're such a bad liar, unnie." eunchae rolled her eyes. "so, who is it zuha-unnie?"

kazuha swallowed air, her fingers nervously tapping on her side. if eunchae found out, there was no doubt that she'd tell you before kazuha herself could.

"no one."

the youngest sighed. everyone seemed to think she was five years old or something. they might as well have told her santa was real.

eunchae shook her head, plastering an unbothered smile on her face.

the maknae had decided a while ago to not get in between you and kazuha. she liked how the two of you acted like two stupid shoujo characters, dancing around their feelings. yes, it frustrated her, but at the very least, she found daily entertainment.

everyone had forced her hand.

"oh..." eunchae nodded. "you're just like y/n-unnie."

kazuha's head perked up almost instantly, like a dog when they smelt a treat nearby.

"what?" eunchae knew something about you? was it something she didn't know? "what about her?"

the youngest bit back a smirk.

"i heard that she was gonna ask someone out."

someone...

kazuha frowned.

someone?

did she know them? were they close to you? was it one of your former members? was that why you had been so busy visiting them instead of paying attention to her?

"who?" kazuha's mind couldn't stop racing as she named all the people you had visited in the past month.

eunchae chuckled, squeezing past her and grabbing a drink from the fridge. "i'm not telling!"

"what?" gears turned in kazuha's head, her frown deepening. "who?"

eunchae smiled. if she was right and kazuha thought like any lead in any of her favorite tv shows, planning a seed of anxiety would be enough for her to finally do something.

"she's probably teasing, zuha." yunjin's voice was laced with nervousness, never before seeing kazuha in such a state of panic.

"maybe..." the youngest sighed.

wow... she was a genius.

"so," the youngest stabbed her juice open, sipping as she acted innocently. "do you guys think minju-sunbaenim is pretty?"

the kitchen went silent.

"...what?"

yunjin's eyes widened. she never knew kazuha's voice could be so intimidating.

"minju-sunbaenim?"

minju? kim minju?

how was she supposed to compete against kim minju?

kazuha liked spending time with you.

she liked how easily she made you laugh, how your eyes seemed to brighten at every word she uttered. she took note of how your cheeks tinged red, and how you'd stare at her as if she was the focus of your attention.

your spotlight was on her.

she'd never tell you, but there was a reason why she had gotten so close to yunjin out of nowhere.

it was obvious how you liked jokes, stupid or not. you laughed at whatever was said, even if imaginary tomatoes were being hurled towards the other person.

huh yunjin always managed to make you laugh, and kazuha knew from the first day she met you that she wanted that as well. she wanted your eyes on her and only her.

("take it."

"a joke book, yunjin-unnie? i don't think..."

"it'll work. trust me.")

now, the spotlight was somewhere else. somewhere familiar... somewhere you were used to.

it was driving her insane.

kazuha looked up, watching as you struggled with the legos in your hand.

"do you like minju-sunbaenim?"

you paused, confusion suddenly appearing in your eyes.

"minju-unnie?"

kazuha, too filled with anxiousness and determination, thought nothing of it.

"do you like her?"

you blinked. kazuha had never been this blunt, nor this flat with you.

your searched your brain for an explanation, but none came to. "where'd this come from?"

kazuha frowned. that wasn't a no.

"eunchae said you did."

you laughed quietly, shaking your head as the girl in front of you sulked. gently, you put the last piece together, staring at the orchid head in your hand.

"don't listen to eunchae." you smiled, her eyes hardening as she took in your words. "she just heard i liked someone and-"

someone?

there was someone, just not kim minju.

kazuha nodded internally. she could compete with someone. in fact, she was sure she would win. as long as it wasn't another person like minju (god forbid it was hyewon), she'd be fine.

hell, she'd fight lee chaeyeon for you.

"who?"

"who?" you blushed under the dim light of your lamp, the thought of confessing to kazuha outright flustering you. "someone..."

the ballerina clenched her jaw. she didn't understand why you wouldn't tell her.

she was greedy. she had always been. kazuha needed to learn to share the spotlight, but she had always struggled with it. she needed to learn to accept that not everything came to her the way she wanted it to, no matter how hard she tried.

"i think we did it!" you smiled, clicking the last piece of the set together. "i'm so glad that's over with-"

she wasn't gonna share you.

kazuha crawled over, not caring that her knee had crushed the bottom of the pot that the two of you worked so hard on.

"kazuha!"

your eyes widened in horror as it shattered under her weight. it took you two hours of work, and so much patience that you felt like you had transcended time at certain points.

kazuha didn't care.

she craved the spotlight. she craved you.

her hand rested on the side of your neck, pulling you into a kiss she had so desperately dreamt of each night.

you barely registered what was going on, your brain hopping from grieve to confusion to flustered in less than a second. her mouth was on yours. kazuha was kissing you.

humming, your eyes screwed shut as you focused all your attention on her. you could taste the faint layer of chapstick on her lips, the one that you had always wondered what tasted like.

sweet. you smiled. like her perfume.

you pulled back awkwardly, watching as she semi-hovered over you, and struggled to maintain her position.

"focus on me instead." she ignored the sharp pieces digging themselves into her knee. "like me instead, unnie."

you looked into her dark irises, her breathing heavy as they searched yours. you couldn't believe how out of nowhere kazuha had been. you had known her long enough to know how she kept her thoughts to herself, rarely speaking out unless something had happened.

you paused.

oh.

"eunchae, you sneaky little..." you shook your head, deciding to scold the youngest another time. now, your focus was kazuha.

her eyes never wavered away from yours, almost as if she was silently pleading for confirmation.

with a smile, you chuckled. "you're the someone, kazuha."

kazuha's face went blank, shifting to her knees.

"huh?" her face heat up. she had never been more embarrassed in her life. "but eunchae said..."

you gave her a pointed look.

"exactly."

kazuha clenched her eyes as she sat back to the opposite of you. how did a fifteen-year-old manage to out-smart her.

i got played.

"so..." kazuha sat cross-legged, glancing sadly at the broken figure in front of her. "i broke our flowers for nothing?"

you couldn't help but let out a laugh, watching as the girl across from you reminisced about the state of the lego set a few minutes ago.

"it's okay." you hummed, picking up the pieces. "it just means more time together."

kazuha hummed happily, going back to work to fix the vase. the more time she spent with you, the better.

together...

that was another conversation for another day.

eunchae stared at the fake flowers on the living room table, smiling as her scheming had worked perfectly.

she was glad that you two were finally dating, even if that meant you and kazuha (poorly) snuck around the dorms.

it was also a plus that she got treats for not telling chaewon about anything (not like she was going to).

"do you know orchids mean love?" sakura said, glancing at her phone.

"love?" chaewon laughed. you were too young to know what love was. "y/nnie didn't even have her first kiss yet."

yunjin's eyes bulged out, not sure if she was hearing wrong. "she didn't tell you?"

"unnie."

"oops."

> main masterlist.

#nakamura kazuha x reader #kazuha nakamura x reader #le sserafim x reader #lesserafim x reader #kpop x reader #idol x reader #silantryo

[kookslastbutton]

Those Eyes Chico ༓ myg (m) | chapter one

✑ Summary: As the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?

pairing: idol!yoongi x plus size!poc!reader

genre/AU: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, coworkers2friends2lovers, winter setting, forbidden love,

word count: 6.5k+

warnings: oc is 28, Yoon is 30, oc is not originally from South Korea, oc has light brown eyes, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, body insecurities, fear of being blacklisted, emotionally restrained yoon, unstable parental relationships, conservative parents, rude Hybe executive that should be fired, bestie!tae is wonderful support 🥹, and cute yoon and oc interactions bc yeah....its thier first time actually meeting so it must be cute!

now playing: Sweet Dreams by The Last Shadow Puppets

a/n: YAHHH chapter one!! Ok i apologize if the meeting is so long and drawn out...I really tried to make it fun but so much info is needed too haha. Anyway this series is dedicated to my wonderfully crazy friend and sorta beta, Gloom @theuselessdaydreamingidiot, and to all our fellow Yoon lovers bc we miss our sweet man SO MUCH 🥺 Enjoy! 🥰 Also huge thank you to @itaeewon for designing this beautiful series header! Love it!!

Series Masterlist | next chapter >>

Winter in Seoul feels like stepping onto the set of your most beloved holiday film.

As the brisk air wraps around you, delicate snowflakes gather atop your head, urging you to cocoon in your finest wool trench coat. Yet, despite the chill, the sight of frost-bitten trees basking in the morning's golden rays offers a source of warmth and delight. Perhaps the most radiant tree of them all is the towering Christmas tree that sits proudly in the heart of the city. Adorned with shimmering red and gold baubles, the giant evergreen catches the eye of every person that walks by–both tourists and locals alike.

Nearby shopping malls buzz with holiday fervor too as shoppers scour for treasures, couples engage in friendly competition to find the ultimate gift, and children line up to take their picture with Santa. But the best part is when night falls. The whole city comes alive with joy and laughter as loved ones meet one another on the ice-skating rinks, while karaoke bars echo tipsy renditions of timeless songs sung by overworked professionals, each with a bottle of soju in hand.

Yes, Seoul is a place for making memories and you’re in the thick of it.

Having been in the city for three years, one might assume you’ve become well accustomed to the energy of the season. You've really grown to love it here. But adjusting to the new environment is still proving to be a challenge, the most outstanding being the prevailing beauty standards.

Massive billboards featuring stunning models serve as constant reminders of the type of beauty one should aim to achieve as you commute to work. Impossible to miss are the shining examples themselves – iconic k-pop groups Seventeen, Red Velvet, EXO, BlackPink, Mamamoo, TXT, and of course BTS plastered on the side of every flat surface imaginable. You’re not exactly complaining about that aspect as you’ve helped design a good handful of them as a top marketing and advertising professional. But the strict image of what constitutes a beautiful and worthy individual weighs on you more than you’d like.

While a conventional body type isn’t what you’ve been given in this life, you don’t consider yourself to be completely unattractive either. Having high cheekbones, a strong jawline, striking light brown eyes, good enough ass, and a full chest shouldn’t classify as undesirable. Still, you wish you’d adopt this more body positive mindset rather than your current overthinking one. It’s easier said than done, being that you not only see idols everyday on the streets in digital form but at work as well.

You continue further into city until a set of tall, glass doors meet you mere steps away. You tilt your head back to catch the name of the skyscraper before nearing the building’s sturdy, silver handle.

BigHit Music.

Feeling its cool metal under your fingertips, the door swings open with an easier pull than imagined to welcome you into the bustling lobby. You feel a rush of confidence return to you upon entering– this is your domain, this is where you truly shine.

“Did you get the files I sent to you?”

The woman nods her head in affirmation while sweeping a few pieces of her long, silky hair behind an ear. To strangers, she appears to look about 24 which is only four years younger than yourself but nonetheless she’s the same age as you. Hei-Ran is her name, meaning “graceful orchid” according to Korean translation.

Hei-ran is one of Hybe’s newest hires and based on her experience, a near perfect fit to being South Korean boy group Tomorrow X Together’s new marketing manager. Until about three months ago, this had been your job.

You never imagined giving up the position after three years of working in the role. But with December right around the corner Hybe had other plans for you.

"Graduated summa cum laude with a bachelors degree in BTech in Electrical and Electronics Engineering and a MBA in Marketing from NYU Stern. You worked two years as a brand manager for U.S record label Atlantic Records immediately after graduating, and are now working at BigHit Music as a marketing manager for TXT including liaison with their global marketing team.”

You recall Bang PD's voice vibrate in the back of your mind from mid-August. You thought you were called into his office to discuss details of TXT’s latest promo, so having your resume read back to you was a sweeping curve ball. Your determination must have far exceeded the heaviness you felt in your chest because before you knew it you, you were shaking hands with your boss in acceptance of your role – the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour.

The tedious knot that’s formed in the nape of your neck reminds you that as surreal as the situation might be, it’s undeniably real.

Months spent drafting a comprehensive marketing proposal for D-Day; often until the wee hours of the night, inevitably takes its toll on even the mightiest of warriors. An entire new team of fifty people, all of who you’ll be in charge of orchestrating for the next eight months, doesn’t provide much to relief either.

You’re excited nevertheless. Working with one of the most respected artists in the music industry is an opportunity you couldn’t let slip by, especially since the album’s rock-inspired genre aligns closely with your own music taste.

“Thank you so much for helping me get settled __,” Hei-ran’s gentle voice returns you to the present. “I appreciate the time you’ve taken these last few months to train me despite the tight deadlines you have.”

Smiling, you shake your head. “It’s no problem at all and if there’s anything you need in the future, feel free to give me a call or stop by my office.”

“On the 16th floor right?”

“1656A. Take a left off the elevator and walk to the end of the first hallway. The door on the right is mine.”

Referring to any room on the 16th floor as your own is something you don’t take lightly. For one the offices are double the size of any other office spaces in the building. Yours in particular has a giant skyscraper window draped with heavy white curtains. Secondly, the floor above is the 17th floor which is exclusive to Hybe artists only.

"How's the proposal coming along, by the way?" Her curiosity is palpable, genuine in its nature. You’ve always appreciated that in an individual.

“It’s done,” you respond. “Only thing left to do is to prepare for our meeting with C-suite executives next Monday. It’s nearly perfect as is, but the presentation could use a bit of refining in terms of organization.”

Hei-ran is silent for a moment longer than usual before her next inquiry, which is undoubtedly the question on both of your minds. “I can't help but wonder what it'll be like to meet him for the first time,” she muses.

You don’t bother asking for clarification on who the “him” is; you’re already well aware that it’s Min Yoongi. The same subject has managed to intrude your own thoughts more and more as the date of meeting him draws closer. It's peculiar honestly, considering you’ve encountered him before.

Granted, it was only a small handful of times the hallway, both heading in opposite directions. Min Yoongi typically greeted you with a hoarse 'Good Morning' those instances, along with a curt nod of his head. You would nod back with a brief 'Morning' yourself. Deep down you feel he'd make a quality friend, though it's only a premonition. It’s not like you actually know much about him beyond those small exchanges.

"I'm not sure what to expect, honestly," you admit. "I imagine it'll be similar to previous professional collaborations—composed, focused, and intense. D-Day is poised to become a global sensation for the next year, so it's going to need our full, undivided attention."

Hei-ran gives a knowing nod. “Good luck __,” she wishes you well as you head towards the elevator doors. Breaks over, back to work.

After another late-night prep session for Monday’s D-Day proposal, you trudge through your apartment door well past 8:30 pm with an empty stomach and a throbbing headache. Good news is that your graphic design team seems to be well on track with their album mockups ready to present.

The same can’t be said for your U.S. promo team however, who required additional guidance on their projects. The social media team was in a similar boat. Somehow several of their members lost track of time and were convinced the proposal was still two weeks away.

Despite the hiccups, you managed to tie up the loose ends, but it meant that none of you got to leave early.

When you finally get to curl up in your fluffy sofa, a loud, exasperated sigh leaves your lips. Your lids flutter shut too as you rest your head against the soft cushion. Silently, you make one last mental rundown of all the tasks you checked off today.

Did you miss anything?

D-Day is the most crucial project you’ve ever taken charge of—you need it to be flawless.

When nothing pressing comes to mind, you grab the tv remote from your dark oak coffee table and aimlessly flip through the channels. You’ll unwind for an hour and then call it a night.

Ten minutes into an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine and the light chime of your phone's notification bell catches your ear.

Tae 💚: Haven’t heard from you all day. Everything alright?

Taehyung, your best friend. You smile fondly at his message as your thumbs hover over the reply button. He's always checking in on you. You and Taehyung have been friends ever since you first moved to Seoul and started working at Hybe. You didn't expect your friendship to become this strong, but both of you are sociable individuals, which led to discovering several unexpected commonalities. One of those is a shared love for jazz, which has been one of your all-time favorite genres for as long as you can remember.

You: yeah, I’m good. Just tired. Been working on D-Day's proposal for months and finally got it fully prepped for.

Tae 💚: Well, that's amazing news! You feel good about it?

You: I don't know. I’m definitely ready for this project but I’m also starting to feel a little burned out. The proposal is only the beginning you know, and it's already taking the wind out of me.

Tae 💚: Sorry to hear that 😞 I'm sure it must be draining, but I also know this is your territory. No one is more fit to head this project than you. Everyone thinks so. How about you take the weekend to rest?

You: Yeah...I'm watching B99 rn

Tae 💚: B99?! Without me?

You can't help but giggle. Somehow over the course of three years you've roped your best friend into becoming obsessed with your mindless sitcoms. You've done more than a handful of binge watching together, until all hours of the night.

You: Wanna come over for an hour?

The company might be nice.

Tae 💚: Be there in 20 🏃

Your door bells rings exactly twenty minutes after you and Taehyng finish exchanging texts. He's so prompt it scares you sometimes.

“Hey.” His deep, baritone voice greets you first, along with a friendly hug. Taehyung slips his snow covered boots off upon entering your apartment and hangs his wool jacket on your coat rack. His limited edition Gucci scarf is next. Taehyung loves the winter as it’s the time he can wear his most luxurious clothes.

“What’s this?” You peak inside a brown paper bag that Taehyung has conveniently set on your kitchen countertop. He flashes you a playful grin and gestures you to open it. Naturally, you're suspicious but it all washes away when a new, unopened bottle of whiskey presents itself. “Oh my god, you didn’t!" You swat his arm in a rush of excitement.

“I had to!" Taehyung opens a kitchen cupboard and grabs a glass from the top shelf. He's been in your apartment enough times that he’s grown comfortable with your place. That and he's also your best friend.

"With all the recent events you've had going on, I think it calls for a celebration." Taehyung expertly pours you a glass of the smooth, rich liquor and offers it to you.

“Thank you, Tae," you say, taking the glass from his hand. "Come sit down. Jake's about to sing I Want It That Way with the police lineup.” Taehyung pours himself a glass of Pinot Noir and follows your lead.

After about forty minutes of sitcoms and booze with your best friend you begin to feel yourself relaxing. Whatever challenges lies ahead, you know you'll be able to handle them one whiskey at a time.

All stream of thought is interrupted when your phone dings off again. It's now half past 9, who on earth is trying to reach you?

Fuck.

You tighten the grip on your phone as soon aa the message appears. Taehyung, previously occupied by the end credit scene, catches the sudden shift in your demeanor and calls your name but he's inaudible to you.

Mom: It’s been almost two weeks since we last heard from you. We know you're busy but your father and I want to know if you’ll be coming home. The holidays are coming up right? Why don't you use some of that time to come see us? There's someone we want you to meet.

"__, who is it?" Taehyung's voice manages to break your intense concentration.

“Just my mom.” You answer briefly, still averting eye contact.

“What’d she say?”

“She wants me to come home for the holidays.” You shut your phone off in an effort to calm yourself.

Unlike Taehyung your relationship with your parents has always been rocky. Expectations are set high from birth and you never see eye to eye. Likely, the only accomplishment that's earned genuine praise from them was when you accepted your initial job proposal with Hybe. A respectable career is only second to health to them after all. Your father was more torn with the news that you’d be moving hundreds of miles away than your mom however, not that you’re surprised.

Of course while having a healthy and respectable career is priority for your parents, there is no mistake that their greatest wish is to see their daughter married. A stable man with ample resources to provide her a secure home and healthy children is preferable.

You love your parents and you'll always be there for them, but you must admit that their traditional outlook is one you can never live up to. They tried setting you up dozens of times before, and tonight's request to have you come home "for the holidays to meet someone” is simply another attempt to marry you off.

Yes, you would like some sort of companionship in your life and you hope if you find it that they’ll approve. But giving your hand in marriage to the first notable suitor isn't your forte. You consider yourself to be an independent woman with a tender heart, and you'd rather be single for the entirety of your life than be forced into another obligation.

Preserving your independence is highly important to you. So no, you draw the line when it comes to relational affairs.

If only you could be firm and repeat all the above to them aloud, rather than within your own head— if only.

“So are you gonna go?"

You don't respond immediately, still weighing out your options. "Not sure," you murmur. "I don't really want to but maybe I should. I haven't gone home to see my parents since last year."

Taehyung recognizes the growing tension in your voice as well as the flushed expression playing on your face. He wishes he could take it all away but instead he moves closer to your side of the sofa and lets you rest your head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry." He's silent for a moment before continuing. "Why don't you tell them you can't go because of work? There must be a number of things you'll need to get ahead of for Yoongi's album."

"True. But it's too easy, they won't buy that. I have to go."

"What if you say I invited you to celebrate with my family this year? We're going to a nice, cozy cabin a few hours north of here for Christmas."

The offer is temping and you know he means it but it's also not enough.

"No," you reject. "They'll think we're dating and ask to meet you."

"I'll do it!" Taehyung's voice lifts into a more playful tone, earning a soft chuckle from you.

"Very cute Taetae, but no. Neither of us are going to say 'that was a good idea' in the end, trust me. I'll have to make this decision on my own."

Taehyung grimaces slightly at your last choice of words. "I really think you should consider telling them you can't due to a full schedule. We don't get that much time off at the company any way. Don't your parents live at least 7-10 hours away? Come on, spend the holidays with me and the guys. Plus, it'll be my birthday soon. I want you there at my party."

When you look at your best friend to gently scold him for not so sneakily using the guilt tripping technique, he's pouting. Like a baby. Not even you can resist him with that face on.

"Fine. I'll think about it."

"Good," Taehyung chirps and snatches the tv remote to flip through episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. "I want you to be around those closest to you, especially around the holidays. You're my badass best friend who deserves more than some stupid forced marriage to a guy with an unhealthy alpha male complex. Should we top the night off with one more episode by the way?"

You nod and Taehyung hits play on the remote. "Thank you," you coo, feeling a tad better.

The weekend is a blur at best and you’re back at the office before you realize. Of course this is no ordinary work day however, given that today signifies the day you officially start work as D-Day’s marketing director. You’ve been perfecting every detail of the proposal like a madman since the beginning, meticulously obessing over every element. Your new team members must have a pretty eye-opening understanding of what it’ll be like having you as a lead for the next year–you pity them to be honest.

Between your fingers clutches a small tube of lip balm, berry flavored with a faint tint to match. You love chapstick for some odd, inexplainable reason and you felt the need to apply a generous amount of it on your lips for good luck.

“No one’s here yet,” Yi-joon, one of the members of your graphic design team, speaks first upon stepping foot into your assigned conference room. Others hum, unsurprised. Being the ones leading the presentation, you’d be startled if anyone actually arrived beforehand.

A grand mahogany table, seating up to 14 individuals, boasts itself to you in the middle of the room with every chair lined in genuine black leather. Traditional seating arrangements have one chair at the head of the table, but today’s meeting has two, both positioned to face the wide presentation screen at the opposite end.

Undoubtably, they’re reserved for Bang PD and Min Yoongi.

A momentary shiver courses down your spine, yet fades quick when one of your team members asks if anyone's seen the remote to the projector. There’s no time for nerves to be acting up, you remind yourself calmly. Only 15 minutes remain until every C-suite executive in Hybe congregates into the room.

With a composed demeanor, you swiftly gather your thoughts and respond, "Try checking inside the podium. It's likely close by, but if not, we can always power it on manually." You then start delegating tasks to the rest of your team, mentally rehearsing key points of the proposal between each instruction.

Time appears to have vanished in the blink of an eye because in a matter of seconds a gentle breeze slips through the conference door, accompanied by the arrival of several Hybe executives. You offer a polite "good morning," which is briefly reciprocated as they take their respective seats around the conference table.

You count twelve at the table in total, including your own team.

"Sajangnim should be here in about–"

Hybe's Chief Finance Officer doesn't get to finish his sentence when an older gentleman in a freshly pressed suit walks through the door, fully immersed in conversation. The person following close behind him is none other than the man of the hour himself–Min Yoongi, fitted in a clean white dress shirt that's unbuttoned at the collar and sleeves rolled to the elbows. His soft, raven hair falls gently in front of his eyes, framing his face a little too well.

Unexpectedly, both your gazes shift from Bang PD and onto one another. His dark, intense eyes pierce through you as they observe you from the opposite side of the room. You're certain he recognizes you from your previous shared encounters, though you don't have the slightest clue what he's thinking. Min Yoongi has been known to be many things, but an open book isn't one of them.

He then walks in your direction until he's directly toe to toe with you for the very first time. Completely against your wishes, you feel all the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. You've never officially met before.

"It's nice to finally meet you __-nim. Those nods we give each other in the hallway hardly count as a proper introduction." He extends a hand to you, offering you a sturdy handshake which you accept.

"Absolutely, it's a pleasure to meet you as well Min PD-nim," you say, smiling warmly. "I'm looking forward to working with you on your new album. I truly appreciate the opportunity."

For a split second, Yoongi allows his professional demeanor drop. "I should be the one thanking you. You'll be the one leading this whole operation right? So I'll be in your care."

You want to respond with gratitude, but you're not given the chance due to an authoritative voice speaking up from behind.

"Min PD-nim," Hybe's Vice President calls out to the man in front of you, requesting his attention.

Yoongi is hesitant to leave you mid-conversation but you assure him that it's alright. "Please, feel free to take a seat," you offer. "The presentations will begin soon."

A small, subtle smile graces Yoongi's lips before he turns around to take his seat beside Bang PD at the head of the table. He engages in small talk with Hybe's Vice President who's conveniently seated across from him. Yet despite their conversation, he's only half focused; his eyes repeatedly wandering back to you. At this point, however, you've already stopped looking at him.

"Good morning, all," you address the room when the time comes to commence the meeting. "We'll be getting started now that everyone's here. I'm sending down samples of the album design our graphics team has created for D-Day. Please pass them along." You hand the stack of copies to Hybe's Chief Technology Officer who smiles courteously.

"On behalf of my team and me, I want to thank you for joining us today to discuss our marketing strategy for Min PD-nim's upcoming D-Day album. Our agenda will be as follows," you guide everyone's attention to the presentation board, which provides a rundown of all the points you plan to cover for the remainder of the meeting.

"Let's begin with introductions. My name is ___ ___, I hold a Bachelor's degree in Electrical and Electronics Engineering from NYU Stern, as well as an MBA in Marketing. Over the past five years, I've worked in the music industry as a marketing manager. Three of those years were spent here at Hybe. The recent promotional campaign for TXT's The Chaos Chapter was lead by my previous team and me, resulting in a positive return on investment. Now, with a new team, I aim to achieve similar success with Min PD-nim's D-Day album."

Once you finish your introduction, you introduce each member of your team. This is soon followed by a brief introduction from each c-suite executive.

The whole room falls silent when you begin diving into the bulk of the proposal; every measurable objective, goal, and market analysis is shared for D-Day. When it comes time to present the brand guide and album design, you invite your graphics team to speak.

"You'll notice that we have two versions of Min PD-nim's albums on the sheet in front of you," Yi-joon refers to the mockups you handed out earlier. A few executives nod quietly as they study the proposed album packaging while Yoongi leans over to Bang PD. He's whispering something but you're far to distant away to hear. His expressions aren't telling either.

Does he like it? Does he not? You don't know.

Nevertheless, you give a subtle smile to Yi-joon as encouragement to continue.

 "We've opted for a sleek, pitch-black design for the first version, and a dusty brown for the second. The first version symbolizes the past, characterized by societal expectations and internal struggles, while the second represents the present and future, conveying a message of liberation. To complement these themes, we've selected a bold and daring font to exude the album's transparency. This design consistency extends to the album's contents; for instance, lyrical cards will reflect the respective color and style of the version they belong to."

Hybe's Chief Marketing Officer appears to be in approval with the entirety of the plan so far, yet it's short lived when a low voice interrupts.

"I think the vision of album's design aligns closely with mine, so I like what I see in front of me." Yoongi pauses and places the mockup on the table. "There's one aspect that I'd like to discuss in hopes of some insight however. I've been mauling over it for a while now."

"I'll do my best to–" Hybe's Chief Marketing Officer opens his mouth to respond yet closes it immediately when he notices Yoongi's gaze sharply shifts to you. It's a signal that it's your insight he specifically requests.

"Please go on," you reply.

"Regarding the name under which the album should be released, should it be 'Agust D' or 'Suga'? I'm personally biased towards Agust D because it holds more weight for me. It's close to my heart and the stories I have to tell as Agust D are heavier than those of Suga, right? The D even stands for Daegu, my hometown where I grew up and where my parents still live. Suga on the other hand is my stage name, which I have some identity in as well."

You don't answer immediately, preferring to carefully process everything he's said. Your team has already proposed to release the album under 'Agust D', yet he makes a valid point that 'Suga' is also a part of him.

"I understand that releasing the album under 'Suga' has its merit. However, I still support the original idea of releasing it under 'Agust D'. As you've mentioned, the name carries a deeper meaning, evoking memories, emotions, trials, and tribulations. I'd also like to emphasize that by releasing D-Day under 'Agust D', you can showcase who the real Agust D is. The collaboration with IU in People Pt. 2 already has you one step in that door."

Like you, Yoongi considers your words cautiously, weighing them in his mind. "Thank you ___-nim," he finally speaks. "Your perspective is reassuring. We'll proceed with releasing the album under 'Agust D'.

Following your short discussion, the graphics team continues presenting their design materials. Minor comments are made by Hybe executives, but Yoongi doesn't comment again until half-way into the social media segment.

"Why do we need to schedule this many Weverse Lives? People might get tired of seeing my face after so many in a row. ARMY will read, 'Min Yoongi started a live' and say to their friends, 'This is the fifth time in a row, is he in love with his own voice or something?'." His joke sparks a light in the room as Bang PD gives a chuckle.

"I don't think that's going to be an issue for you Yoongi," he replies. "Don't you know the strength of your own fanbase?" Bang PD's statement is undeniable. Everyone in the room is well aware of Min Yoongi's international fanbase who willingly stay up all hours of the night just to catch a glimpse of him. In fact, rather than seeing less of him, they hope to receive his live notifications more, as Yoongi isn't as active on Weverse as other idols.

It's clear that compliments like these aren't easy for Yoongi to take though, judging by the flushed look that subtly sweeps over his face. You'd react the same way to be honest.

"If I may Min PD-nim," you speak up, deciding to offer an alternative plan. "Leveraging Weverse Live to help promote D-Day will draw significant international engagement. We know that time differences pose to be a challenge which is why we proposed an increase of live sessions per week. However, we understand that going live this often might be exhausting. Would you consider reducing the frequency to once or twice a week instead?"

"I'm open to once a week but didn't we film the 'Suga: Road to D-Day' documentary for a similar reason? Won't it be too much to add more than two Weverse Lives throughout the entire promotional phase?" Yoongi's challenge is met with an unanimous hum of support from his fellow executives. You'd feel intimidated if you didn't already have a justification mapped out.

"The objective behind releasing 'Suga: Road to D-Day' on Disney+ differs from that of Weverse Lives," you rebuttal confidently. "While the documentary presents a structured behind-the-scenes view of D-Day's development, the Lives focus on building hype among your existing fans who know you well, will spread the word to their peers, and will likely pre-order the album. As you're aware, Lives are more personal and stripped down, allowing your fanbase to feel closer to you."

Thinking of no further objectives, Yoongi, still somewhat unsure, accepts your suggestion. "Once a week will be fine then. While we're still on the topic, do we know when 'Suga: Road to D-Day' is set to release on Disney+?"

"Our digital marketing and promo team will be reviewing the specifics of that soon," you inform. "Right now we have the documentary releasing April 23 of next year. The poster for the film will release a week and a half earlier on the 12th."

Rather than furthering the discussion, Yoongi sends an understanding nod your way which allows the social media team to resume their portion of the proposal. Recording more Weverse Lives than usual remains a pain point for him, but he's willing to move forward if it means connecting with his fanbase.

Alast, after what seems like three hours of social media; followed by financing & budget talk, the last team to present their material takes lead of the meeting.

"We'd like to provide a timeline for D-Day's promo schedule as a way to wrap up today's proposal," So-hyun from your digital marketing and promos team explains. "Promotions will begin April 10, 2023 and will run until April 25th. During this time the album's track list, concept photos, MV Teaser, and official MV will drop. As far as concert schedule, we're proposing April 26-June 24. These dates include U.S, Asia, and Korea Tours."

"We might need to rethink concert dates but for now I'm on onboard." Yoongi remains brief in his interjection, allowing So-hyun to continue.

"As far as other marketing channels, we plan to implement both print and digital methods including billboards, banners, paid search ads, and YouTube. We'd also like to reach out to a variety of magazines like Rolling Stones Magazine for interviews. If we want to extend our global reach even further, we can book a time slot on the Jimmy Fallon Show. Bare in mind that if we go this route, we'll need to decide fairly quick, as slots are in high demand."

You notice Bang PD whispering amongst Yoongi and his Chief Finance Officer when Jimmy Fallon is mentioned. Yoongi seems the least interested. Perhaps he isn't fond of being front and center of talk shows, you guess.

"When will we need a decision for the Jimmy Fallon Show?" Bang PD inquires for the group.

"No later than three weeks from now," So-hyun answers. "It's a tight deadline but it can been done if we get the official go."

Bang PD directs his attention to Yoongi who's chosen to be silent in this conversation. "What do you think, Yoongi? It's your call."

"Maybe," he says, "give me a day or two to think on it."

Another ten minutes of productive overview with your promos team pass and soon, you're standing up to adjourn the meeting. You have to admit that out of all the proposals you've given in your career, this goes right to the top.

Your team was phenomenal today, and despite the the fact that several Hybe executives are biting at the bit to finally go on their lunch break, you feel confident that everyone is leaving on the same page.

"Min PD-nim."

You're ears inevitably pick up the conversation in front of you as you make your way out of the conference room. Yoongi and his Chief Financial Officer are running through some quick numbers only a few steps steps ahead, but with everyone simultaneously rushing in the same direction, neither must have realized you were within earshot.

"There's no doubt that she's good at what she does," Hybe's Chief Financial Officer continues. "Still, it's hard to believe that she's only 27 or 28. A person should take better care of themselves don't you agree? Like our Eunchae for example."

If there was a way to erase what you just heard, you'd do so, because in an instant, all previous successes you felt from today's proposal shatters to the ground. You're no stranger to receiving these sorts of comments about your appearance, yet it leaves your confidence fleeting, along with any amount of resilience you've built.

Blinking back the tears that threaten to spill, you exit the conference room the first chance you get. You have no desire to stick around for Yoongi's reply.

Not long after you leave does you phone ring off.

Tae 💚: Hey! How's the meeting going? Still available to get lunch this afternoon? I'm heading to the cafeteria as I type this.

You: It went okay. But I don't think I'll be coming to lunch, just a lot to do. I'm also not that hungry.

You second-guess how convincing your message is, knowing that it's your best friend on the other line. Regardless, it's the only words you can come up with right now. You really do have a lot of work ahead of you though, at least that part is true.

Tae 💚: Are you sure? I was looking forward on hearing how the meeting went! Wasn't there something you had to give me too?

The meaning of the last line suddenly dawns on you as you make your way down the long hallway. How could you forget? You made Taehyung one of his favorite foods to surprise him for lunch; Japchae, a sweet and savory dish of stir-fried glass noodles and vegetables.

You: Right, sorry it slipped from my mind for a second. I'll meet you in the cafeteria to give it to you.

"Why won't you stay and eat with me?" Taehyung devours the homemade Japchae you made for him with delight, a pair of chopsticks clamped in his hand.

"I don't have much of an appetite, Tae."

You've already told him this twice already, clarifying that you'd be heading back to your office once you deliver his food. Evidently, he's not letting you slip away easily.

"Then take a break with me instead, even if it's only for ten minutes." You watch as your best friend swiftly pulls out the chair next to him from under the table, gesturing you to sit. "Tell me what's got you down," he says. "Did Yoongi say something to you? He can be a bit too outspoken with his opinions sometimes."

Feeling defeated, you slide into the chair. "No, the meeting was fine. I'm just overthinking something that happened."

You then proceed to explain what you overheard Hybe's Chief Finance Officer say about you from earlier, that you didn't look healthy enough for your age and using Eunchae as an example. The scowl that appears on Taehyung's face as you retell the incident is unmistakable–he's clearly pissed.

"First of all," Taehyung starts once you finish, jaw clenched. "Eunchae is 17 and is a part of a Korean girl group. She has an entire team dedicated to making sure her appearance is flawless. It's the idol life; trust me, I'm well acquainted with it, so it's not a fair comparison. Secondly, Hybe's CFO is an asshole who I'd replace in a day. I don't want you letting him make you feel insignificant just because you don't conform to his narrow idea of how a woman should look."

You appreciate Taehyung's efforts to cheer you up, though you remain unaffected. Besides, he still isn't aware of Yoongi's involvement since you purposely left that detail out due to their close friendship.

"Yeah, I don't know. We don't have to talk about it anymore." You decide to dismiss the topic entirely and reach for your phone, along with a pair of earbuds bundled in your pocket. "Wanna listen to something?"

Music has always bonded you and Taehyung's friendship, as you've frequently found yourselves fully immersed in timeless songs from King of Leon and Led Zeppelin together. Taehyung nearly accepts the offer to listen with you once again, but then he freezes all movement. An eager grin follows close after.

"Hyung!" His voice echos though the room, earning the attention of Min Yoongi who's just entered the cafeteria. This time, you feel nothing but discomfort when the man looks your way.

"I have some material I need to review from my promo team. I'll text you later, okay?" You leave your best friend no time to reply as you quickly rise from your chair, stick your phone in your pant pocket, and head for the nearest exit. Yoongi attempts to make eye contact with you on your way out, but you avoid it completely.

When he approaches Taehyung, he acknowledges your semi-odd behavior. "I didn't mean to make her leave," he states, joining the younger at the table.

Taehyung offers a light shrug in response. "Don't worry, you didn't. She had other matters to get to. Something with her team members I think."

Yoongi grabs a fresh clementine from a nearby fruit bowl and beings peeling it little by little. "You two must be pretty close if you're having your lunches together."

It's not hard for Taehyung to read between the lines of what his member is insinuating.

"We've been friends for a while," he clarifies. "Just friends, nothing else."

a/n: Hope you enjoyed! Lmk what you think 🥰

Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfics #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #bts scenarios #fic:thoseeyeschico #kookslastbutton

[hrts4hanniehae]

Take a Chance with Me || masterlist

summary: 3 years after your breakup with seungcheol, you release an album to cope with your still-broken heart. you didn’t expose his name but quickly, your fans and fans of svt begin to connect the dots to the past you wish you could relive. little did you know, the man you loved so desperately would begin to chase you back with the same desperation you so very much desired

inspired by: take a chance with me

pairing: idol!choi seungcheol x fem!idol!reader

genre: past relationship, fluff, angst, best friend!booseoksoon, smau, miscommunication, pining, 2nd chance

warnings: implied self harm/depression, hate comments, updates irregular but will finish because i cried when i thought abt this idea

started: 13.12.23

ended: 28.12.23

taglist: fill out this form to be added to the taglist (specify this smau in the pw section)

main masterlist

smau socials

one two three four five

six seven eight nine ten

eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen

tags! @fairyofhour @megseungmin @woozixo @sun-daddy-yoriichi @euphoric-univers @christinewithluv @haowonbins @ocyeanicc @asyre @xcynthiaaa @superhoshisvt @bangantokchy @chimmy-bts @angelarin @daisawa @writingbarnes @jeonghansshitester @belladaises @wonwootakemyheart @wonwooz1 @luchiet

#caratsland #seventeen headcanons #seventeen imagines #svt fluff #svt x reader #dino x reader #dk x reader #hoshi x reader #jeonghan x reader #joshua x reader #jun x reader #svt smau #svt #seventeen #seventeen fluff #smau #seungcheol x reader #scoups #seungcheol #Spotify

[violetsiren90]

Beacons Ashore

(A What the Moon Saw Drabble)

Pairing: Yoongi x f!Reader (What the Moon Saw universe)

Genre: drabble; non-idol AU; friends to lovers; childhood friends; new friendship; angst and fluff; Yoongi POV

Summary: A few months after first stumbling across you in his favorite spot, Yoongi finds himself at the hideaway ledge on a night in March.

Content Warnings: PG, but ALL my content is off-limits to minors; minor injuries and allusions to domestic violence; allusions to minors smoking cigarettes; sad birthday boy; first aid; sweet beginnings

Author's note: Just a quick birthday drabble in honor of Yoongi and my favorite fic couple. It's exactly 1000 words! Short and sweet. A Yoongi POV. 💕

If no one has told you yet today, you are loved and worthy of love! Yoongi certainly loves you, and I do too! 🧜‍♀️💜

The moon watched Yoongi shift impatiently where he sat.

    He wasn't waiting for you.

    This was his spot, after all - you had stolen it. Intruded. You kept insisting that it was very possible that you had in fact found it first, and that the both of you had simply never retreated to the little nook in the cliffside on the same night until that night, last year, but Yoongi found the notion highly improbably.

    It wasn't that he would ever complain that you were now part of his nightly reprieves more often than not. You weren't noisy or bothersome, and always brought cozy blankets and oatmeal crème cakes you were willing to share. You were easy to talk to, when there were words, and when there were none, your silence was easy as well - a peaceful companion in the darkness like the crash of the waters below.

    It was a Tuesday, and you were always here on Tuesdays. Your mother was gone playing bunco and your father was...working late. Yoongi shifted again where he sat, tossing a pebble over the lip of the ledge. He hadn't been able to lift any cigarettes tonight, not after the incident with the soup. His stomach rumbled. Yoongi held himself around the middle and stared out at the water shimmering under the chilly, pale yellow light of the March moon.

    He wasn't waiting for you.

    He wasn't.

    And then little scuffling noises from above found him springing to his feet and leaning over the railing to see you tottering down the steps wearing a backpack and carrying a flannel blanket in your arms that nearly obscured the front of you with its bundled mass. Yoongi hopped over the rail and trotted up the stairs to take the blanket and the backpack while you clambered over the railing to reach the ledge.

    You were so tiny that you had to drop to the ground after pushing your tummy off the bar. It made Yoongi smile to himself. He wished you weren't so cute, like a tiny little bear in your puffy coat and Ugg boots. If you weren't so endearing he could begrudge you for setting up camp in this little corner of his life.

    Yoongi didn't let people in, it was easier that way. People thought they wanted to get to know him, sure...but people always overestimated themselves. People were soft, ignorant idiots who recoiled when they discovered the ugly, messy truth his life, quietly excusing themselves from his association thereafter.

    That's why when you asked him what had happened to his hands, he lied.

    "I fell."

    It wasn't exactly a lie. He had fallen. When his mother had shoved him out the door and locked it behind him, screaming for him to go, to run, while she took the blows meant for him, he had fallen.

    Your eyes dropped to his scraped knees. Yoongi tucked his bottom lip between his teeth. The innocence of your knitted brow seemed to ask why he was always bleeding. Under his jacket the soft skin of Yoongi's tummy burned from the scalding overturned bowl of seaweed soup. Suddenly, he wanted to run away - but he was already where he'd end up if he did.

    You watched Yoongi's eyes dart over your face. You watched his foot scrape back over the stone of the ledge. You huffed and stuck your legs out in front of you in a little V, pulling your backpack into your lap. It was almost as big as you were.

    Yoongi's heart squeezed in spite of the pulse rushing in his ears.

Cute. Damn it.

You plunged your arm in past the zipper of the bag and pulled out a little white box, setting it between your legs and glancing back up at him to pat the ground beside you. Yoongi raised an eyebrow skeptically, but you tilted your head to the side and raised your own brows in a way he had quickly learned meant he better just cooperate.

    He sat down beside you, his back to the cold rock and his knees drawn up to his chest. You shoved your backpack aside and skootched in next to him, cracking open the plastic lid of the box to reveal the contents of a first-aid kit. Yoongi's heart squeezed again.

    You peeled open an alcohol pad and warned that it would hurt. He scoffed, then clenched his jaw to keep from yelping when you gently patted the cool wet pad over the bloodied knees peeking through the rips in his jeans. Then you pursed your little lips and leaned in to blow on his skin. What on earth that was supposed to do to help Yoongi hadn't the faintest notion, but he did know that your small, gentle touches were taking up enough space in his mind to push away everything else.

    You stretched a bandage over one knee. It was white with bright pink hearts and tiny pictures of Hello Kitty. Absolutely garish, and the sweetest thing he had ever seen.

"It's my birthday," Yoongi blurted out, surprising himself with his own words.

    You drew back and blinked at him.

    "I..." he mumbled, reaching for something to justify the sudden revelation, "I'm thirteen."

    You turned away to rummage in your bag again. Yoongi was kicking himself for being such a weirdo, and he stood again to go, when you turned back with something in your hands. You looked up at him with a silly grin, holding an unwrapped oatmeal crème cake with a Q-tip from the first aid kit stabbed like a candle in its soft center.

    "Got a light?" you asked, teasingly.

    He reached out and gingerly took the little confection in his battered palms, pulling a weathered Zippo from his jacket pocket.

    The moon watched as he lit the the little cotton swab.

    It watched him shush you as you tried to sing to him then mush the snack cake against your face when you wouldn't stop.

    From far up and away in the cold March sky, the moon saw Yoongi begin to glow at your side - long after the make-shift candle had been blown out.                                                                                                                           

-Fin-

#yoongi birthday fic #yoongi birthday drabble #fic: what the moon saw #yoongi fic #min yoongi fic #bts fic #bts fanfction #bts fan fiction #bts angst #bts fluff #bts reader insert #myg #min yoongi #yoongi fanfiction #min yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi angst #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #young love #friends to lovers #non idol au #best friends au

[colormepurplex2]

The Stars In His Eyes...The Hate In Your Heart | It's Like Dancing On Moonbeams

↳Hoseok x f.Reader ⤜ Non-Idol, Brother's Best Friend, Enemies to Lovers ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 10,595 ⚠️ Crass language, hurt feelings, BIG misunderstandings, mild childhood misogyny, childhood abuse, shared trauma, mentions of alcoholism/drinking leading to the arrest of a parent, kissing, safe word/consent, mild dom!Reader sub!Hoseok, clit grinding/cock rubbing, penetration denial, nipple tweaking, biting, unprotected v. sex, cum eating/worship, oral f. receiving

⇽ Previous Chapter ◅ Back to series masterlist

Branches claw at your face and snag in your hair as you mindlessly stumble through the trees—your vision blurs, hot tears thundering down your cheeks in a torrent you can’t control. The echo of Namjoon’s words clangs around in your head, making you feel disoriented.

The toe of one of your shoes catches a humping tree root, and you go down hard. Blood fills your mouth as your teeth chomp your tongue with the jarring fall. Quiet sobs shake your chest as you push yourself up and stumble forward again, absently brushing the dirt and debris from your abraded palms.

Thankfully, your father is still gone when you swing open the backdoor and shuffle inside. You kick off your shoes in the small mudroom, quickly disappearing into your shared room. The beds are small, with just a few feet of creaking floorboards separating them and a small window between the headboards.

The closet has a small chest of drawers shoved under the few dozen hanging items of clothing, half the drawers yours and half Namjoon’s. You pull open your top drawer, grabbing a clean pair of long pajama pants. They’re threadbare but comfortable and will cover the welts.

Namjoon comes in through the back door long after you make a small pot of rice for dinner. There’s dirt covering the knees of his khakis, and sweat makes the strands of his hair stick together on his forehead.

“Father went to town?” he asks, his voice pitched low as he comes in behind where you’re washing up the few dishes you used for dinner.

You set the dishes on the drying rack on the counter, grabbing a towel to dry your hands before turning to face him. “He left this morning after breakfast.”

Relief is evident on Namjoon’s face. “Any idea when he’ll be back?”

“He had an appointment to discuss the harvest. I imagine he’ll be home late or early tomorrow, same as always.” You know your voice has a coldness, and you know Namjoon is picking up on it.

“Everything okay?”

Anger burns in your belly, upsetting the meager meal you just finished. “Everything’s fine,” you say, stepping around him to go to your room. “I’m going to bed early. Try to be quiet.”

“Whoa, Kitty!” Namjoon grabs your arm as you try to pass him. “Why are you limping?”

Jerking your arm from his grip, you bare your teeth at him. “It’s nothing.”

“That’s not nothing. I can clearly see you’re in pain. What did he do to you?” Namjoon’s eyes bore into yours, panic lacing his question. He’s as familiar with your father’s belt as you are.

“I said it’s nothing, so it’s nothing. Just leave it, okay?” You shove away from him, wincing against the ache in your thighs as you try not to limp as noticeably. “Not like you care what I have to say anyway.” They’re whispered words, but you’re sure you said them loud enough that Namjoon would hear. In part, you want him to ask again. You want to know he cares about your opinion, regardless of what Hoseok said by the lake. But he doesn’t say anything more or ask again…

You curl up in your bed, facing the wall, with your back to Namjoon when he finally slides into his bed. You can hear him tossing and turning for a while before the noise is replaced with his soft, even breathing.

The first tear slides into your hair as you realize you’ve lost him. Namjoon no longer needs you the way he once did. That reality can only be placed at one person's feet—Jung Hoseok.

_____________

You startle awake, heart in your throat. Your pillow is wet, soaked with tears still sliding down your cheeks. Scrubbing at your cheeks angrily, you throw back the blanket and swing your legs over the side of your bed.

“Fuck,” you lament, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes. “Fuck!” The frustration quivers through your limbs, followed by emotional fatigue. You tap the screen of your phone sitting on your bedside table. It’s only 5 AM.

The argument with Hoseok yesterday and the consequential retelling of the day when you were thirteen stayed with you seemingly all night. It’s been years since you’ve dreamed of that day, the nightmare usually only brought on by an intense argument with Namjoon.

An uncomfortable heat lingers on the backs of your thighs as if your body still remembers what the snap of your father’s belt felt like. You haven’t seen your father since you and Namjoon moved out at eighteen. The last you heard, he’d ended up in prison because of a drunken brawl that landed a man permanently in a wheelchair.

Namjoon visited him briefly once, just to ensure legal matters were covered with the then-vacant farmhouse. You both agreed to sell it once the paperwork was finalized and you received rights to it. It’s a place you both never wanted to see again.

Pressing a hand against your chest, over your fluttering heart, you take a slow and deep breath to help calm yourself. Grabbing your phone, you click into your text thread with Namjoon and send him a message to call you when he’s available. You put your phone aside, and the day slips by in a blur of mundane things. A few times, you catch yourself staring at Hoseok’s contact—rightfully saved as Jung He-really-sucks—in your phone, but never more than that.

The only response you get from Namjoon is a quick text saying he and Jin are super busy, but if it’s crucial, he can swing by the apartment sometime between meetings. You let it slide without wanting to add more stress to your brother’s plate. Hoseok might be right in that you need to have a conversation with Namjoon, but at this point, there are far more important matters than your fifteen years of hurt feelings right now.

You manage to get through the next two weeks without having another falling out with Hoseok. From the outside looking in, people would assume you’re at least cordial with one another. Though, that couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, you haven’t even communicated directly with him since the day you had your argument. Instead, you’ve been childishly only communicating with him through Yoongi.

Yoongi doesn’t mind being the middleman. He knows you well enough to understand what you need regarding Hoseok. In the short time you were with Yoongi, you may have divulged some of the darker secrets about how you feel. So, he takes it in stride when you use him as a conduit and has been a saving grace in keeping Hoseok at least six degrees removed from your bubble.

That is, until the day of Namjoon’s wedding. Nothing in the world can keep you away from Hoseok, then. The thought of wrapping your arm around his as you walk down the aisle to stand at Namjoon’s side has sweat slicking down your spine. You blot a tissue along your temples. Taking a fortifying breath, you knock softly on the door before you.

“If you’re Jin, go away!” Your brother’s voice is muffled through the door but no less humor-filled.

“Not Jin,” you call.

There’s distinct shuffling on the other side. “Oh, thank fuck,” Namjoon gushes, shoving the door open just enough to let you slip into the room. “He’s been trying to trick me into letting him see me for the last hour!”

“Do you really believe in those can’t-see-the-bride-before-the-wedding superstitions?” you question, looking around the small space he’s getting ready in.

The room is a mess—flowers and discarded articles of clothing cover nearly every surface. Namjoon is half-dressed in nothing but boxers, long black socks, and a white tank top with his periwinkle-colored dress shirt open over it.

“It’s not that.” His cheeks pink as he turns away from you.

You purse your lips in curiosity. “Then what is it?”

His eyes flick to yours over his shoulder. Namjoon noisily clears his throat. “You don’t want to know.”

“Jin wants to fuck you, doesn’t he? ‘Ravage the bride and steal her innocence’ kind of thing.” You laugh as Namjoon swings around and gawks at you. “Chill out. You tried to scratch out that in your notebook, but I could still read what he wrote. It’s cute, in a dark romance novel kind of way.”

Namjoon groans, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “I would indulge him, but I’m worried he’ll ruin my clothes or make me lose focus.”

“Don’t worry, brother dearest. I’m sure Jin would put you back together after breaking your back.”

The scandalized look he gives you makes you laugh again. A sudden knock at the door accompanies it. “Namjoon?” Seokjin’s voice sounds from the other side.

“Sorry, Jin, I’m taking over to get your prince charming ready for the ball,” you call, stepping closer to the door.

The door thumps, rattling on its hinges as if Jin jerked against it. “Oh, uh, umm…sorry, Kitty, I didn’t know you were in there. Ahem, er, well—“

“Don’t worry, lover boy. You can lay claim to my brother’s backside as soon as you say ‘I do’”.

There is a stammered reply from Jin, but it’s too muffled for you to hear it clearly, covered up by the fast retreat of his footsteps. “Fucking hell,” Namjoon sighs dreamily. “I really love that man.”

You can’t help but smile as you look back at your brother, his eyes unfocused as he stares at the door, cheeks still sporting a soft blush. “Let’s get you ready so you can show him just how much you do love him.”

Namjoon hums, moving over to sit in the only chair without something sitting on it. “I don’t want anything too over the top, just a nice style.” He gestures to his unruly hair, the strands flopping haphazardly.

“Don’t worry. I know exactly what Jin will love,” you assure him, offloading the small bag of hair supplies you brought with you. “You know, this reminds me of when we moved out, and you finally let me play with your hair. The platinum blond fauxhawk was really a look, huh?”

“My hair was so dry and fried from all the bleach. You had no idea what you were doing,” he chuckles, ruffling a hand through his thick, inky hair. “Oh, hey, I’m sorry I didn’t call you last week. I know today isn’t exactly a day we’ll have much time for chitchat, but we have a few hours now while we finish getting ready to talk if you want.” He catches your eyes in the vanity mirror on the wall in front of the chair as you step behind him and set your bag on top of a few boxes.

“I don’t know that today is the day for that conversation, Namjoon.”

He shifts in his seat, his back straightening. “What’s going on, Kitty? Talk to me. Now’s probably the best day to take my focus off the stress of something going wrong. Come on. It’ll be like old times.”

You open your mouth, intent on insisting it’s unimportant, but Hoseok’s words echo through your mind. You do need to have a serious conversation with Namjoon, and after today, there’s no telling when you’ll get another chance like this.

“Do you remember, umm…well, I don’t know how to describe that day, at least from my perspective,” you lick your lips, trying to search for the words. Something else Hoseok said catches in your mind. “Can you tell me about the day you told Hoseok about how you really feel about men and women?”

Namjoon stills under your hands, his lips thinning into a stoic line. “Why?”

“He and I had a conversation—an argument, actually, about a certain day, and he says it’s the same day you told him about that. I just, that day, it’s something else for me…and I just want to make sure we both know what day I’m talking about before I actually start talking about it,” the words rush out of you as you wince with the awkwardness of the conversation.

“Is this argument why you haven’t seen nor spoken to him in almost two weeks?” Namjoon raises an eyebrow, staring at you through the mirror.

You tear your eyes from his, busying yourself by grabbing some hair wax and styling pomade from your bag. “It is. He told me I needed to have a serious conversation with you about that day, and well, that’s what it was all about.”

“Let’s talk about it.”

“Can you tell me about that day from your perspective?” you tentatively ask, unscrewing the lid to the pomade.

“I remember climbing out the window, even though you had asked me not to…”

_____________

The sun is still below the horizon, but the heat is already threatening to choke Namjoon. Summers in the countryside are brutal, sticky, and uncomfortable. He wonders if you’ll be okay with sleeping with the window open tonight in hopes of a breeze to cool down the stifling inner atmosphere of your shared room.

Namjoon skirts around the toolshed in the back, heading straight for the line of trees on the edge of the property. He doesn’t dare look back, fearing if he sees the disappointed look in your eyes, he’ll immediately climb back in through the window.

If he’s lucky, Hoseok will already be waiting for him at the lake, and they can get a quick dip in before Namjoon spills his guts. It’s been on his mind for weeks now to come clean with his new friend. He might have only met Hoseok at the start of last school year, but in that time, they’ve grown increasingly closer.

As much as Namjoon loves you, it's refreshing having another guy's perspective, especially as Namjoon grows into his teenage years. Things are changing, his body is changing, and there is just some stuff he’d rather not talk to you about. Private things, awkward and weird things—things that make his heart beat a little harder to think about.

“Namjoon!” His name echoes from his right. He slows his steps, peering between the towering trees until he catches a flash of white in the dim light breaching the overhead canopy. As he approaches the voice, the sun slides over the horizon, but the rays are thready and weak through the thick tree cover.

Hoseok comes into view a few moments later, carrying a covered basket in one arm and two folded towels in the other. “Hey, man,” Namjoon greets his smiling friend, feeling lighter already.

Green onion pancakes and boiled eggs sit in the pit of Namjoon’s stomach as he watches his friend skip rocks across the shimmering surface of the small lake. The cleared ground between two fallen trees makes the perfect picnic spot. The pancakes, eggs, and thermos of water Hoseok brought were easy to eat as they sat on the rocky shore by the placid water.

“Don’t think I haven’t seen the new bruises on your arm,” Hoseok says, casually skipping another rock out over the lake. “What happened this time?”

Hoseok doesn’t know everything that goes on in your house. Namjoon has only told him vague details, mostly leaving out what your father does to you. He’s sure if someone else found out his father raised a hand to you, they’d confront him, and that would only make matters worse—your words, not his when he first broached the subject right after your mom left. Everyone else in the community paid no heed to the Kim children and the map of discoloration that occasionally dots their skin. That’s just how it is living out here.

Namjoon tugs down the cuff of his short sleeve, trying to cover the distinct fingertip bruises on his upper arm. “Father has a short temper regarding chores around the farm. It’s nothing new. I knew I would get in trouble when I didn’t finish my chores before sundown yesterday.”

A grunt comes from Hoseok as he launches another stone. The rest of the rocks in his hand clatter around his feet as he turns to face Namjoon. “That’s my fault, isn’t it? If I hadn’t asked you to hang out yesterday afternoon, you would have finished on time.”

Shrugging, Namjoon dismisses the subject, setting his focus on the reason he wanted to meet Hoseok this morning. He wets his lips, eyes flicking over Hoseok’s features. “There’s something I want to tell you.”

Hoseok quirks a slight smile. “You know I’ll always listen to you. What’s up?” he asks, crouching down beside Namjoon, his weight resting on his heels.

Squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath, Namjoon opens his heart to his new friend, hoping the confidence isn’t wasted. “For a long time now, I’ve known that…well, I-I like…not girls.”

“You like knot girls? What’s that? Is that a new comic or something? It sounds kinky.”

Namjoon puffs out his flaming cheeks and shakes his head. “No, it’s uh, not a comic. Not knot girls…but not girls, as in I don’t like girls. As in, I like not girls, but guys.” The words are soft, spoken with trepidation. He watches as emotions flicker over Hoseok’s features before they settle on a soft smile of acceptance.

“Is this how you confess your feelings for me, Joonie?”

Shoving Hoseok’s shoulder playfully, Namjoon snorts a laugh and can’t help but smile. “You wish.”

Hoseok shuffles his feet to keep his balance. “I mean, that’s cool, man. Are you—do other people know, or is this like a secret?”

That’s the hard part. “No one else knows. I’m not sure my dad…” he trails off, rubbing a hand absently over the bruises on his arm.

That sobers the smile on Hoseok’s face instantly. “Right. Okay, that makes sense. Is it hard, you know, to hide that?”

“Hiding is all I can do at the moment. Telling other people—if the wrong people found out…” he trails off. “As much as it sucks, I can’t do that, man. It would mean hell to pay.”

“Would it be as bad as how you feel right now? What’s temporary pain compared to life-long?”

Namjoon knows Hoseok is just probing, curious; making sure Namjoon is thinking about everything. He stands, shoving his hands in his pockets and toeing some loose rocks. “I don’t know. The fallout might not just impact me.”

Hoseok scoffs. “Kitty? What’s she got to do with this? She doesn’t understand as I do. She’s just a stupid girl.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right…” he pauses as he hears a rustle in the leaves behind him before continuing, “but only about her not understanding. She’s not stupid, and she’s not just a girl.” Namjoon narrows his eyebrows, for once irritated at Hoseok. He bites the bullet, breaking your trust, but in a way that he hopes will help Hoseok see beyond the fact that you’re a girl. “If you think these bruises,”—he gestures to the marks on his arm—“are bad, know that they’re nothing compared to what Kitty experiences at the hands of our father.”

Hoseok launches to his feet. “What!?”

Namjoon shakes his head, holding up a hand to stop Hoseok from combusting further. “That’s not the point. All I’m saying is if anyone can understand me, it’s her. I know you just see her as a girl and my annoying sister…but, she’s more than that. I would have told her first, but my main focus right now is understanding what it’s like from a guy's perspective. I need another guy to talk me through it, help me reason out my feelings—a guy I trust.”

There is a distinct change in Hoseok’s body language as he absorbs Namjoon’s words. “Okay, man, I’ll listen. No more bashing on Kitty, I promise.”

_____________

“You told him about Father?” you ask in the quiet following Namjoon’s recollection of that day.

Namjoon turns in his seat to look back at you. Your hands slide from his hair, fingers slicked in pomade, temporarily forgotten. “He’s my best friend, Kitty. I didn’t tell him everything, but enough for him to understand.”

“Okay,” you mumble, chewing on your lip as you mentally go back through Namjoon’s telling.

“Now that I’ve told you everything, what’s so important about that day? What am I missing?”

You can feel heat creeping up your neck and spreading over your cheeks. It wasn’t so bad telling Hoseok about overhearing him and Namjoon that day, but now that you’re faced with telling your brother, it has your heart lurching behind your ribcage.

“That morning, Father asked me where you were after breakfast, and I lied, saying I didn’t know. He strapped me, of course, knowing I was lying. I was so mad at you for sneaking out and putting me in that position.” You shake your head, stopping the interjection you see forming on your brother’s lips. “I went to find you, to tell you off about it. I came upon you and Hoseok by the lake and overheard your conversation.”

“Kitty,” Namjoon says, his brows pinching and his lips turning down. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Well, I only overheard a little bit of the conversation,” you admit. The breath you pull into your lungs does little to soothe you as you continue. “I only overheard a small part…where Hoseok was calling me stupid and telling you I wouldn’t understand because I was just a girl. Then…you said maybe he was right, and well, I left before I heard anything else because I was so pissed off and hurt.”

Namjoon’s eyes go wide in understanding. “You really believed that’s how I felt all these years? Is that why you hate Hoseok so much? Oh fucking hell.”

“Can you blame me?” you ask, shoving your hands back into Namjoon’s hair to continue fixing it. You use your grip on his hair to turn him back to face the mirror. “It’s not like anyone ever listened to me anyway. Not Father, not Mom, and certainly not you.”

“I listened to you,” Namjoon insists. “I’ve always valued what you had to say. You’re the one that shut me out that day. Don’t you remember? I came home, and I could tell you’d been whipped, but instead of talking to me, you pretty much told me to get fucked. You changed that day, Kitty, and I had no idea I did something to cause it. I just assumed you were being a hormonal teenage girl.” You scoff at that. He glares at you in the mirror. “We were kids. What else was I supposed to think?”

That sucks the bite out of the tart reply poised on your tongue. “Yeah, you’re right,” you choose to say instead. Because, as much as it hurts, he is right. It seems you’re just as much to blame as he is, maybe even more so. “Now I really feel like an asshole.”

“Well, yeah,” he lightly laughs. “Fuck, Kitty. Have you really been holding on to this for the last fifteen years?”

“I guess I have. I’m sorry.” You mean it, too. You meet Namjoon’s soft graze through the mirror, finishing the final touch on his hair. “Truly, I am.”

“I’m sorry, too.” He reaches up and catches one of your hands, squeezing it in his. “You’ll always be my sister, but most of all, you’ll always be my best friend. You're still number one, regardless of who else I call my best friend. Don’t ever forget that. I know this doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of addressing the last fifteen years of pent-up feelings, but as soon as Jin and I get back from the honeymoon, we’re going to have a sibling weekend, okay? Just the two of us and an industrial-sized box of tissues.”

You reflect the smile on your brother’s face. “I think I’d like that.”

His eyebrows smooth out before they raise slightly as he continues to look at you. “Now, to circle back, speaking of other best friends, I think you and Hoseok need to have a conversation as well. A civilized conversation, as from what you said, you already argued about it.”

You sigh. “You’re probably right. But, right now, there is something far more important to do. You’re getting married in approximately fifty-two minutes, and you’re still not wearing any pants.” You and Namjoon laugh at that, and it feels good. You’re already breathing easier, and the healing has only just begun. “Come on, get up. Let’s finish this.”

🌙🌙🌙

Hoseok

It’s unfair how stunning you are standing across the small foyer from Hoseok. The lilac-colored off-the-shoulder silk dress you’re wearing has small white flowers embroidered along the swooping neckline and along the bottom hem. It accentuates your beautiful body and complements the style of your hair and faint makeup feathered around your eyes.

He watches your toes flex in your open-toe sandals, the nails painted with a small white tip. Everything about you makes his chest feel tight and his breathing erratic. It’s been weeks since he’s been able to look upon you, something he never thought he’d miss as much as he did.

Namjoon stands a few feet away, his hands brushing nervously over his light grey suit jacket. Hoseok’s suit is the same lilac as your dress and matches Namjoon’s in style and cut. His undershirt is a soft white to compliment the white accents in your dress.

The ceremony is taking place in an expansive botanical garden on the backside of the estate venue Namjoon and Seokjin rented for the day. Seokjin waits at the other end of a long garden path that runs right through the blooming roses, all white and purple petals to compliment the silver and periwinkle colors of the wedding party.

Hoseok tries to catch your eye, but you’re focused on Namjoon, waiting for him to cue you to move. He almost misses the flick of Namjoon’s hand and his broad smile. If it weren’t for you taking a step toward Hoseok, he’d be none the wiser.

“Your arm,” you murmur softly, holding out your hand. He stares at it, eyes tracing over the delicate bones beneath what he knows is soft skin. You clear your throat, an urgent but quiet plea to snap out of it.

He offers you his elbow and luxuriates in the faint warmth of your hand sliding into the crook of it. “You look beautiful,” he whispers as he steps with you into the open doorway that leads to the flower garden.

Your eyes meet his from under your lashes, and suddenly, he feels like he can’t breathe. “Quite handsome yourself.” You barely move your lips, but he can hear the soft words. They expand his chest, letting precious air fill his lungs.

Music begins to drift from the garden, beckoning you both forward. He takes small, measured steps, just like he did during rehearsal. You didn’t attend the rehearsal at the same time as he did, so he ended up practicing with Yoongi, who laughed and teased him. According to the snickered comments from Yoongi, he’d also been your stand-in when you practiced earlier that day.

Your fingers clench against his arm, and he can hear the clear labor of your breathing—you’re mildly panicking. “Breathe, slow and calm. It’s a good day, Kitty.”

The sun hangs low in the sky, the garden lit with hanging globes of twinkling lights: a sunset wedding, the perfect union of light and dark, according to Seokjin and Namjoon. Hoseok ushers you down the steps into the garden, the gravel underfoot crunching softly.

It’s a short walk down one of the paths and then a right turn before the pergola with its rose and lily-covered arch comes into view—just enough time for Hoseok to admire you without an audience watching.

His eyes slide over your bare shoulder, taking in the delicate silver chain with the cat charm sitting in the hollow of your throat. Namjoon told him the necklace once belonged to your maternal grandmother, who gifted it to you—along with your nickname—on one of her rare visits to the farm.

You adjust your grip on the small bundle of light purple roses and creamy lilies clutched in your free hand, held just below your breasts. Hoseok can smell your distinct coconut and pineapple scent over the fragrance of the garden. You’ve always reminded him of a tropical paradise, an exotic place of wonder and intrigue.

The sound of you clearing your throat snaps Hoseok out of his mental daydream of you stretched out on a beach, his lips kissing the salt from your skin as the sun—you clear your throat again and give him a pinched look. “Why did you stop?”

He takes a quick step forward, hauling you with him. “Sorry,” he mumbles, not having realized he’d stopped just before the turn.

Plastering a tight smile on his face, he guides you around the turn, and the tension in his lips evaporates, letting his smile mold into a more genuine expression of his excitement. Seokjin—wearing just as fine a suit as Namjoon—waits at the end of the garden path, wreathed in greenery and blossoming petals. A few white chairs with pale purple cushions line the walkway, friendly faces and smiles greet you both as you make your way down the aisle.

By the time you and Hoseok take your place to the side of Yoongi, who’s officiating the wedding, Namjoon appears around the bend in the garden. Hoseok’s best friend is resplendent, made even more so by the faint glisten in his deep, mahogany eyes as he draws closer.

The exchanging of vows is a blur in Hoseok’s mind. He knows he should be paying attention to the sweet words spoken by Namjoon and Seokjin, but his focus keeps drifting to you. Tears slip down your cheeks, and Hoseok has to restrain himself to keep from reaching out and thumbing them away. Instead, he twines his fingers between yours and offers you support and solidarity with occasional, gentle squeezes.

“…I now pronounce you partners for life!”

Hoseok tightens his grip on your hand as he watches Seokjin lead Namjoon down the aisle in a shower of tossed fresh flower petals and heart-shaped punch-out leaf confetti. They pause at the curve leading back to the estate, and Seokjin twirls Namjoon before pulling him into his arms and dipping him for a picturesque kiss. A soft, titillating laugh bubbles from you at the display. It warms Hoseok’s heart to hear you laugh and sound so at peace.

Namjoon and Seokjin disappear around the corner. Jin’s brother and one of his best friends, whom you’ve only met briefly, follow from Jin’s place of honor. Hoseok offers you his arm again to lead you in front of the small crowd that begins to disperse toward the estate, where there will be a small, cozy dinner and social hour before they leave to catch a flight for their honeymoon.

Reluctantly, Hoseok lets you slip away into the crowd once he’s escorted you back through the garden. You haven’t said anything to him since before walking out for the ceremony, and he’s unsure if that’s a good thing. In a way, he misses your clawing remarks and biting attitude. As he idly sips a glass of champagne, he wonders if you found time over the last two weeks to have that conversation with Namjoon.

🌙🌙🌙

It’s not fair. Even after your conversation with Namjoon and your new-found non-hatred for Hoseok, he shouldn’t be able to elicit such a response from you. From the moment you saw him in the foyer, your heart has been doing funny things inside your chest. When he ushered you out the door, he mistakenly thought your erratic breathing was nervousness over the day, when in reality, it was being so near to him and coming to terms with embracing the new way you see him.

You’ve become quite good at masking your feelings for Hoseok under the guise of your hatred for him over the last fifteen years. Initially, it was easier because the disappointment and betrayal were still fresh in your heart. You didn’t realize you had underlying feelings for Hoseok until he moved away a few years ago, and this feeling of emptiness settled into the void his move had created.

Sure, it’s not like he was gone completely. As you’ve lamented many times before, his move made it seem like he spent even more time around you than before. But, it was more so just the fact that life was swiftly moving around you, and after all these years, you’d grown attached to him—in your own twisted, messed up way. Though, to be fair, it’s not your fault he’s devilishly handsome and has the personality of a saint. It’s hard not to like him, even when you hate him.

The wedding speeches and toasts blur by in a mix of emotions. You find yourself listening attentively to Hoseok’s words as he speaks to both Seokjin and Namjoon, reminiscing and wishing them the best. Your own speech, the one you rehearsed for weeks, tumbles from between numb lips and doesn’t have nearly as much unction as it probably should. Everyone applauds nonetheless, and Namjoon and Seokjin capture you between the two of them in a hug.

Once free of the festivity commitments, you find yourself meandering outside and back into the garden. With the sun down, the pleasant coolness of the air helps soothe the warmth that’s seemingly latched itself into your skin.

“You okay?” That voice, the one you’ve been unconsciously seeking out all night, elicits a quickening of your heartbeat. Your pulse batters away in your neck, fluttering so intensely you can feel every throb.

You turn slowly, eyes sliding across the expanse of flowering roses before landing on Hoseok standing a few feet behind you. His hands are in his pockets, the front of his suit jacket open to reveal his dress shirt underneath. The tilt of his chin increases as he patiently waits for you to respond.

You don’t answer him with a lashing tongue for the first time in fifteen years. Instead, you choose the honest, albeit vulnerable, answer. “No. I’m not.”

Your honest response must catch him by surprise because his brow furrows, pinching over his quizzical eyes. “Wait, really? W-what’s going on?” He jerks into action, closing the distance between you and cradling your face, angling your head so he can fully see it. His eyes flick back and forth between yours. “Are you not feeling well?”

You sigh, pressing one of your hands over his and leaning into the touch. “Physically, I’m fine—maybe a little uncomfortable from where the sandals are rubbing my heels, but that’s fairly insignificant to how I feel emotionally.”

“Emotionally?” His forehead smoothes out before he quirks a curious eyebrow.

“Mhm,” you hum softly. You take a step back, pulling away from the hands still framing your face. With your hand still covering his, you twist your fingers so they slide into the clasp of his. “Walk with me for a bit?”

A muscle along his jaw flexes as he searches your face again, looking for what, you’re unsure. “Of course I will.”

Hoseok allows you to lead, guiding him with your hand snuggly fitted into his. His skin is softer than you’d thought it would be. As a hip-hop dancer, you know he uses his hands to perform certain moves and works out extensively. So, the idea that his hands would be at least mildly calloused from the beating they take isn’t outlandish. Though you have seen the plethora of body butters and hemp oil lotions he carries in his bag, so perhaps it shouldn’t be that big of a surprise.

“I talked with Namjoon,” you finally tell him after several minutes of silence. The path in the garden that you’re on empties out beside a sprawling stretch of dark water. How fitting, you think, that your confession should happen beside the placid waters of a lake when that’s precisely where your hatred began fifteen years ago. “I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you the last fifteen years. You didn’t deserve my ire. If I had just talked to Namjoon about it…maybe the years would have panned out a bit differently.” The last part is said quietly as you stop and turn to look up into Hoseok’s eyes, which look even more star-filled than usual.

“Kitty, you have nothing to apologize for. Not when it’s just a misunderstanding. I mean, sure, it might have been nice to spend the last fifteen years differently…but, for what it’s worth, I wouldn’t mind spending at least the next fifteen not being enemies.”

Much like your conversation with Namjoon, that assurance doesn’t fix the last fifteen years, but it does lessen the weight on your chest. It gives you hope for the future and what comes next. “Not being enemies sounds like a good idea.”

“You know, I meant what I said that day in your apartment. I have always liked you—like, liked you.” He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, hiding a smirk. “You’ve always been beautiful. But, your passion and drive is something that I’ve always admired, even if it was directed toward making my life hell.”

You laugh. The sound is a bit strained as you work up the courage for your next confession. “Since we’re on another train of honesty…In a weird way, I’ve always liked you, too. I didn’t want to because...how messed up is that, right? But, it’s like no matter how much I hated you on the surface, deep down, I couldn’t fully commit to that feeling. You’ve always been such a light in my life, in Namjoon’s life. Despite how I felt, I knew you would always be there like a beacon shining in a desolate sea.”

Hoseok clears his throat, his eyes briefly flicking away from yours before settling back with an intensity you can’t place. “Um, is it—would it be okay…can I kiss you? Is that weird?”

The lengths of your fingers on the hand not still holding his, tangle into his hair in response. You simultaneously use your grip on his hair and the movement of leaning up onto your toes to bring his mouth to yours.

His tongue teases along the seam of your lips, and you open for him. He tastes like hope. A soft, sweet, and dizzying flavor that has a soft moan sliding up your throat as his tongue meets yours.

Chills fueled by the ecstasy of the moment blanket your skin. Hoseok’s hands land on your hips, securing you firmly against his front. The warmth from his body contrasts with the light bite in the air; it’s comforting and has you pressing even closer to him.

“Hoseok.” Your lips brush over his as you whisper his name. It comes out breathy, like a soft plea.

“I’ve wanted to do that for years,” he admits, another confession shared between you. “I thought about kissing you to shut you up so many times.” You both laugh, airy and light, as you try to catch your breath. “Would you have slapped me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I would have worked out my aggressions sooner…or maybe a bit differently. Hate sex is therapeutic, right?” The words are out before you can stuff them down.

Hoseok's eyes go wide, twinkling with mirth. “Who said anything about sex?”

Heat crawls up your neck and over your chest. “I mean, I was just—it’s not that, well…kissing tends to lead to—“

He cuts you off with another kiss. This one is searing, fast and full of passion. When he finally pulls away, you’re swaying slightly in his arms. “What’s that about kissing?”

“Kissing. Sex.” You pause to try to wrangle your breathing. “Apology sex?”

Hoseok chuckles, the sound dark and wicked in a toe-curling way. “Kitty, are you proposing that I sleep with you?”

Licking your lips, you clear your throat and focus your attention back on his eyes. “Hoseok, are you saying you haven’t thought about that at least once over the years?”

“Avoidance.” He kisses you. “Deflection.” Another kiss. “So what if I have?” He swallows your response, tongue delving into your mouth in a swirl of breathlessness that has you moaning again.

“Stay with me tonight,” you whisper, finally breaking from his lips again. “We have many years to make up for, and it would be a shame to waste any more time.”

The sound Hoseok makes lingers somewhere between a growl and a moan. “We probably should get back before your brother begins to worry about us.” His forehead presses against yours, and his eyes slide shut as he takes a deep breath. “I’ll come home with you if that’s truly what you want. Don’t feel obligated or like you have something to make up for because I would never hold something like that against you or for my own selfish gain like that. Just know that, please.”

The ice around your heart had already begun to melt, but now it’s a surreal phenomenon of the cold cage instantly turning into water vapor. You soften in his arms, letting your body speak as well as your words. “This is a choice made of my own volition. It is what I truly want.”

He kisses your forehead softly before pulling away until he’s only holding one of your hands. “Then I’m all in.”

The walk back to the venue is quiet but comfortable. You’re spinning the last several minutes in your head, reliving each kiss. A tingle still lingers on your lips as Hoseok leads you up the stairs and back inside.

“Kitty! Hobi!” Namjoon disrupts your thoughts. He stops in front of you and Hoseok, having just come from what looks like a bathroom down the hall. “Where have you guys been?” he asks, his eyes flicking down to where your hand is still tucked into Hoseok’s. You try to snatch it away, but Hoseok holds firm.

“We went for a walk,” Hoseok says casually as if that’s something normal you and he would do.

Namjoon’s eyes meet yours, and his eyebrow lifts slightly in question. “Just a walk,” you confirm with an awkward laugh. “Everything’s good, Joonie.” You mean that in more ways than one, and can see the understanding shining bright in your brother’s eyes.

“Glad to hear it,” Namjoon says, his lips tugging into a smirk. “So, should I start calling you brother-in-law now?” Those mirth-filled eyes swing to Hoseok.

Now it’s Hoseok’s turn to try and pull his hand from yours. You squeeze his hand, holding tight. “Whoa, man, that’s—Namjoon, I mean—“

“I’m just messing,” Namjoon teases. “I’m just happy to hear it.”

Hoseok relaxes beside you. “You really don’t mind?”

Namjoon claps Hoseok on the shoulder, a large smile taking over his face. “If I can accept Yoongi being with Kitty, I think I can accept you, too. In that, I think you’re the lesser of two evils.”

“Wow,” you grumble. “Don’t you have a husband to attend to or something?” You give Namjoon a pointed look. “A honeymoon to get to?”

“Mmm,” Namjoon hums, absently bringing his hands together in front of him and twirling his silver wedding band. “I believe you’re right. Getting through security at the airport always makes Jin nervous about making it to the gate on time. We could do with a bit of extra time.”

“You mean extra time for him to fuck you in the backseat of the limo,” you quip. Your brother stifles a laugh, his cheeks burning with a deep blush.

“Yes, well, anyway. You’ll be okay staying here? Have you located your cabin?” The venue they booked also has rooms available for the remaining wedding party, small quaint one-room cottages on the other side of the lake.

You wave a dismissive hand. “All’s well, brother, don’t worry. If I get lost, I’m sure I know someone who will help guide the way.”

Namjoon coughs, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “Right, okay. On that note, I’m going to go find Jin.”

There are a few other guests staying in the venue accommodations, Hoseok being one of them. After Namjoon and Seokjin are showered with more well wishes and hugs, they leave for the airport. You stand in front of the main venue building, watching the taillights of Seokjin’s car disappear in the distance.

“Can I walk you to your room?”

You turn toward the voice. Hoseok is standing at the top of the stairs, his hands casually tucked into his pants pockets. The sight of him, standing there with the flickering gas flame lanterns framing the doorway and casting a halo around him, reminds you of the day he left your apartment after the last argument you had. Except, instead of sadness etched into his features, he’s sporting a soft smile and twinkling eyes.

“Sure,” you agree, making your way up the stairs to him.

Again the walk is silent but comfortable as he walks you along the same path you took earlier in the evening toward the lake. The small cottages are dotted along the backside of the water, their individual walkways and doors softly illuminated with solar garden lights.

“You’re in number seven, right?” Hoseok asks as you approach that particular cottage. “I’m in three.” He jerks a thumb over his shoulder back the way you came.

You glance at him, taking in the way the light breeze coming off the lake ruffles his hair across his forehead. His eyes are locked on the ground, his bottom lip firmly trapped between his teeth. “Seven, yeah, that’s me.”

He looks up, noting number seven is coming up next. “Well, thanks for everything tonight. I’m glad we were able to work through some of it and at least have a better perspective for what tomorrow brings.” Hoseok stops at the beginning of the path that leads to your cottage. There is a moment of pause before his eyes come up and lock on yours. “You really are something special, Kitty.”

That makes you shake your head and laugh softly. “We both know I don’t deserve to hear that just yet. Not for a while at least, not until I make up for at least some of the last fifteen years of treating you like undesirable number one.”

“So, how about we start by getting breakfast together in the morning as act number one in our what’s sure to be an epic love story?” He waggles an eyebrow at you, smiling wide.

Getting breakfast with Hoseok sounds like a beautiful start to putting things on the mend, but there’s another part of you that doesn’t want to wait until the morning. It’s a frantic pulse that bleats deep in your chest, urging you to…”Will you stay with me tonight? Or—is that too much? I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Of course you don’t want to—it’s too fast, and—”

Your stuttery backpedaling is firmly cut off with a dizzying kiss. Hoseok gathers you into his arms, hands sliding along the silk covering your back and over your hips. He tastes faintly of the whiskey he took a shot of with the other guys before Namjoon and Seokjin left. The oaky, nutty flavor compliments the deep groan that vibrates from his chest as your tongue seeks further entry into his mouth. He opens for you, readily welcoming the press of your tongue against his.

“I would love that,” he murmurs between light presses of his lips and soft sweeps of his tongue.

It’s probably a spectacle to be seen, the way you and Hoseok stumble toward the door of your cottage. You fumble between your bodies, searching for the small slip pocket along the side seam of your dress where the keycard is. Hoseok grabs it from your shaking fingers once you have it out and slaps it against the electronic reader.

The reader buzzes, the lock clicking as Hoseok pushes on the handle and swings the door open. He tosses the card aimlessly toward a table by the door and kicks the door shut behind you. “Are you sure about this?” you ask, voice airy and thin as you lean back to get your bearings and breath.

“I’ve never been more certain about something. As long as you are?” Hoseok’s coffee-colored eyes flick between yours, clearly looking for any doubts.

Your top teeth bite into your bottom lip as you meet his gaze. “Help me,” you say, turning slowly to give him your back. “The zipper is hidden in the seam.”

Hoseok takes a deep, shuddering breath. His exhale ghosts over your bare shoulder as he leans in. You feel his fingers trail along the back of your dress, searching for the zipper. He makes an appreciative noise as his fingers pinch around the small metal zip and begin to slide it down, exposing the column of your spine.

The dress falls slack, the fabric drooping and catching on your arms as you raise them to hold the front up over your chest. “You’re so beautiful, Kitty,” he whispers, trailing a finger up to between your shoulder blades.

“Take your clothes off and lay down,” you tell him, turning back around and emphasizing the command with a flick of your hand toward the large four-poster bed.

Hoseok’s throat contracts, and you can hear his audible swallow. His tongue pokes out and moves slowly over his lips before he gives you a subtle nod and begins to shrug out of his jacket.

The lilac fabric puddles on top of his shoes as he toes them off. He leaves a trail of clothing in his wake. Discarded socks, dress shirt, and trousers leave him standing at the foot of the bed in nothing but a pair of tight black briefs.

Even with the dark fabric, you can clearly see the distinct outline of his bulging erection. His eyes drop from yours, angling down as his thumbs hook into the band of his underwear. “There’s no going back after you see my dick, you know that, right?” he asks teasingly, pulling the waistband down to expose an inch of his pelvis and the dark shadow underneath.

You scoff playfully. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

With slow, deliberate movements, Hoseok pushes down his briefs and exposes himself to your curious gaze. Your breath catches in your throat, and you try to cover your gasp with a cough. His eyes snap up to yours as his underwear drops loose around his ankles.

A smirk curls his lips. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He should. His cock is as beautiful as he is. You can tell it’ll be velvety smooth without even having touched it yet. It curves slightly upward where it bobs in front of him, a clear glistening bead already forming at the tip.

“Get your ass on the bed,” you snap, more teasing than commanding this time.

“Yes, ma’am,” he snarks lightly as he slides backward onto the bed, arms angled back to keep him sitting upright once he’s in the middle.

You step over his discarded clothes, picking your way across the room, kicking off your sandals in the process. Once you reach the end of the bed, you focus your eyes on Hoseok, let out a slow breath, and loosen your arms from across your chest to let your dress fall. The silk settles around your ankles, the fabric feeling both cool and too hot against your skin.

“See something you like?” you ask Hoseok, luxuriating in the smug feelings that come from how gobsmacked he looks. His mouth hangs open, eyes slightly wider than usual.

Your skin pricks under his sweeping gaze, flushing with heat as his eyes trail your naked body—naked because you couldn’t wear anything under the silk dress without unflattering lines and fabric bunching.

“Yes,” Hoseok admits with a shuddering exhale. He boldly licks his lips, eyes following the swell of your breasts and the curve of your hips with appreciation. “Fucking hell.”

“I’m going to ask you some essential questions and set some very important rules. Do you understand?” You roll your shoulders back and straighten your spine, giving Hoseok a look that demands he respond.

His chin jerks in a frantic nod. A slight shine is already covering his forehead, his chest rising and falling rapidly. As you slowly ease your knees onto the bed, on either side of Hoseok’s outstretched legs, you take time to devour the sight of his body entirely.

You’re sure you could spend an entire night tracing the muscled lines of his body, memorizing them with your hands and tongue. He has a dancer's body, chest broad and hips narrow, thighs that you’re certain could support you for hours as you bounce on—fuck—him.

“Nmph,” Hoseok grunts, an unintelligible sound catching in his throat as you spread your legs wider and finally settle against his thighs. You can feel the way his muscles flex under your ass as he swipes his tongue over his lips again. His rigid cock jerks where it rests on his stomach as if trying to rise and seek you out.

You know he can feel the heat of your pussy on his thighs, the sticky wetness of your arousal smearing as you shift from side to side and settle closer. The warmth from his balls settles against your mound, and you sigh in satisfaction.

“Do you know what a safeword is?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever used one?”

“No.”

“We’re going to use one tonight, just to be safe. Do you understand?”

He doesn’t hesitate, the hunger in his eyes saying it before the word falls from his lips. “Yes.”

“You won’t touch without my permission, and you certainly won’t cum unless I say so. Do you understand?”

“I do,” he says, mirroring the words spoken earlier between your brother and his own lover.

“What is your safeword?”

“Purple,” he breathes the word quickly. “Your favorite color.”

You can’t help the quirk of your lips. “You know safewords are supposed to be something personal to you, something that holds meaning in a way that elicits protection in a moment of vulnerability and trust.”

“Purple is personal. It does mean so much to me,” he confesses, eyes fervent with his admission. “It reminds me of you, the person I know no matter how much pain I endure for, you’ll never truly hurt me.”

That has your heart fluttering in your chest will renewed vigor.

“Purple it is, then. If at any time you wish for things to stop, you simply say ‘purple’, and I’ll immediately stop, okay?” you tell him plainly, simply, with intent.

“I understand.” The acknowledgement rings through the room, settling between your thighs with an earnest ache. He slides his arms forward, no longer holding himself up, and lays down.

You lean forward, planting your hands on Hoseok’s chest for leverage as you shimmy your hips. His hands fist into the comforter on either side of where your knees spread around his waist.

“Remember, no touching,” you smirk, catching the way his fingers flex against the bed.

Lifting your ass just enough to slide your slick core over his balls, you settle on his throbbing shaft. You can feel your lower lips spreading, splitting around his cock in a wet, warm kiss. The underside of the head presses against your clit as you rock your hips slightly.

A strangled moan breaks past his lips as they pop open, his lashes fluttering, his eyes roll back, and his back arches slightly. “Fuck,” he pants as his back hits the bed again.

You set a slow, teasing rhythm, grinding yourself back and forth over his shaft. With every backward slide, your clit catches on the head of his cock, and you both begin to whimper from the sensation. “You feel so good.” You peer down at him through your lashes, eyes half-mast as you undulate your hips repeatedly.

Wetness covers his lower stomach, a combined mix of both of your arousals. You can feel how you drip on his cock with each new sweep of your lower lips over it, the teasing pleasure sending fluttery aches along your inner walls.

“Need to be inside you,” he whines. “Please!”

His hips tilt, and the head of his cock catches on your opening, almost sinking in before you pull back and give him a sharp look. “Not until I say so,” you tell him hotly. His chest heaves under your hands, pupils so wide they’ve nearly devoured the coffee color of his eyes. You don’t start moving again until he nods his understanding; precious moments that test your own resolve.

Pleasure ripples down your spine as you begin to move a little faster, seeking that precipice of ecstasy that’s so tantalizingly close. Hoseok flexes his hips under you, adding extra pressure to your clit. You consider admonishing him for it, but it feels too damn good.

To distract yourself, you brush your fingers over his well-defined chest, fingers flicking over his taut nipples. His chest shudders with each pass of your nimble fingers. You pinch one between your fingers, appreciating how his eyes flutter and his teeth gnaw at his bottom lip when you do.

“Fuck. Harder,” he moans. You indulge him, twisting and pinching at his pert nipple until he’s letting out harsh grunts and mewls. “That feels so—ungh—good!”

Leaning down, you lave your tongue over the hot peak of flesh, then blow a cooling puff of air over it. Hoseok jerks under you, and you catch the way his hands almost come up to touch you, but they snap back to the bedspread as he huffs in frustration.

“Good boy,” you murmur, licking at his nipple again before taking it between your teeth and gently tugging.

“If you—ungh—keep doing that—npmh—I’m going to c-cum.” Hoseok tips his chin back, moaning loudly.

“As much as I’d love to test that statement…” you trail off, slowing your hips to a leisurely roll and giving his nipple one final, tiny bite. “A bit of a pain slut, hmm? Maybe next time,” you finally murmur, more to yourself than Hoseok, eyes locked on his now swollen, dark nipple as your thumb soothes it with small circles.

Hoseok cries out a strangled mix of relief and disappointment as you brace up on your knees and lift your wet lips from where they are, hugging his girth. “Please,” he begs softly. “I need you.”

“Wrap your hand around your cock. Hold it up for me.”

He’s quick to obey, sliding a hand under you and wrapping his fingers tightly around his flushed, sticky length. “You have such a pretty pussy,” he says, his eyes drifting from where his hand is holding the base of his cock to your dripping core that is now lowering back down.

You wish you could see what he’s seeing. You’re sure it would be a sight to behold—how your pussy swallows him inch by inch. It has to look as good as it feels. You’re so worked up; it’s an easy slide but still snug enough to make you both exhale shaky breaths as you bottom out, and your walls pulse around him as they adjust.

“Is this why you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate me back?” you whisper, eyes blazing with fire and mischief. “You liked it when I was mean to you. Got off on it, didn’t you?” You tweak his nipple again and slowly begin to fuck yourself on his thick length. “Did it get your dick hard whenever I’d yell or sneer at you?”

His hips roll to meet yours with a satisfying thrust. “You have no idea how often I’ve cum all over myself thinking about you taking a riding crop to my ass or shoving a ball gag in my mouth.” His words are brazen, ragged, and full of honesty. “Is that what you want to hear? You want me to tell you all about my twisted, fucked up fantasies?”

“Yes!” you mewl, increasing your rhythm and intensity. “Touch me.” It’s a low command, but Hoseok hears you as if you’d screamed it.

Resounding twin smacks echo through the room as his hands land on your ass. “Fuck, yeah,” he moans, using the grip on your ass to encourage your movement until you’re bouncing up and down so hard you can feel his cock kissing the deepest part of you.

“Hoseok!” His name tumbles out like a curse, your eyes rolling back and your nails digging into his chest as your orgasm slams through you, taking you by surprise.

“That’s right, baby, oh fuck!” Hoseok slides his arms up and wraps them around you, dragging you down to his chest. His hips continue to work under you, forcing his cock in and out of your pussy’s tight, pulsing clasp. “I’m going to cum inside you,” he mumbles half-coherently.

Warmth floods between your thighs as he jerks and shudders against you. You can feel every throbbing jet of his cum as he releases. “Mmm,” you can’t help the pleasured moan as your body continues to flutter around him, greedily accepting his offering.

“Need to make you cum again,” Hoseok pants.

“Mm, Hos—“ What was going to be a half-hearted protest turns into a soft puff of air as he flips you both, your back hitting the mattress.

“Please, Kitty, please let me worship you just a little longer.” His bright eyes bore into yours, pleading. He looks so strung out, in a dizzying, sexy way, the way he’s slumped over you, as if in supplication for his need to please you.

“Be gentle,” you whisper.

He slowly leans back, chest expanding and hollowing with stilted breaths. His eyes trace a path along your body, followed by his hands. Hoseok molds his hands around the curve of your breasts, down the planes of your stomach and sides, until they’re firmly planted on your inner thighs. With the slightest amount of pressure, he pushes your legs open, exposing where he’s still nestled tightly inside you.

“Oh,” Hoseok breathes. His cock slides out of you slowly. You can feel the thick dribble of cum that follows slide down your ass. A moan works out of him as he catches the drip with two fingers and gently pushes it back into you. “I didn’t think your pussy could get any prettier, but I have to say…it’s a fucking masterpiece full of and dripping in my cum.”

The filthy words go straight to your core, making your walls squeeze and another gush of cum to drip out. He tuts softly, a wicked grin on his face as he repeats the process of pushing it back in. “Mmnh.” It’s your turn to moan as he slowly strokes his fingers in, out, then over your clit. “Hoseok. Please, make me feel good again.”

He growls his approval before burying his face above where his fingers still stroke inside you. The way his tongue dances over and around your clit has that edge barreling toward you almost instantly. You’re still quite sensitive, your body poised for more pleasure. Hoseok licks and sucks at your clit, setting your body alight with tingling bursts of indulgence.

“Cum for me,” Hoseok encourages, renewing his efforts with his fingers and tongue.

It’s a lingering moment, teetering on the edge. But the plunge is swift and all-consuming. Flashes of white spark behind your closed lids as you slam your eyes shut, and your head kicks back, mouth opening in a silent scream. It’s like dancing on moonbeams, floating in a galaxy of hedonistic pleasure, and wrapping yourself in the warmth from the sun that you know as Hoseok.

Hoseok places a last, lingering kiss on your clit, making you shudder, before leaning up and catching your gaze. The bottom half of his face is glistening, a combination of your cum and his. He licks at his lips, giving you a roguish smile. The sound of his fingers pulling out of your still-quivering body is obscene but makes you sigh happily regardless. A pleasant ache throbbing between your thighs is a sure sign that you just experienced far more pleasure than you have in a really, really long time.

“That was…I’m not even sure how to describe it,” you admit, opening your arms in silent command. Hoseok immediately slides into the open space, turning on his side and pulling you with him so you’re chest to chest.

He brushes his lips over yours, peppering you with soft, languid pecks. “I would say it was the perfect fresh start.” He leans back slightly, his eyes finding yours. You can see a sobering moment in them. “I mean that, Kitty. I don’t want this to just be for tonight. I want to make this work…I want to be with you, figure this out together. As long as you’ll have me.”

“I want that, too.”

And, the longer you stare into his eyes, the more you realize that there is no hate left in your heart…all there is, are the stars shining back at you.

⇽ Previous Chapter ◅ Back to series masterlist

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2023-07-20 ColorMePurplex2

#bts hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok x you #hoseok x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #hoseok fluff #hoseok angst #jung hoseok #sub! Hoseok #bts brothers best friend #bts imagines #bts non idol au #bangtanwhq

[7ndipity]

All these yoongi asks got me all soft 🥺🥺 only the best for the honey boi, and you too.❤️

Can i request something too? 🥺👉👈 something completely opposite of fans hating idol's partner, like army liked oc a bit too much that yoongi is both glad and dumbfounded. weverse, bts twt, livestream comments, basically all is flooded with everything oc related and the company doesn’t know what to do atp. Looking for massive fluff and crack. ✨✨✨✨

*kith kith* uwu

The Fans Love Y/n

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: How Yoongi would handle his fanbase being massive fans of his S/o.

Warnings: none

A/N: Thanks for requesting this! Once again, sorry it took me a bit to get to this, I hope you like it!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

When the two of you first decided to go public with your relationship, he was more than ready to protect and defend you, having seen many other idol’s partners harassed and hated on for the littlest thing. He was soo ready to fight anyone who so much as said ‘boo’ in your direction.

So imagine his relief, but also confusion, when you were met with an overwhelming wave of positivity and support.

Everyone was so excited, not only to see Yoongi in his ‘bf era’, but to see more content with you. You had always been the ‘friend’ behind the camera or stories that Yoongi told on livestream, so to finally get to see the two of you interacting was beyond cute for the fans.

Everytime one of you posts a photo of the two of you, everyone just gushes in the comments about how cute you look and how much they love getting to see you together.

“Look at the way Yoongi looks at them, he’s soo smitten.” “I mean, same tho? He’s so lucky.”

Whenever rude or hateful comments did show up, they would immediately come to your defense, shutting it down immediately.

He can’t help but smile tho when the fans ask about you constantly during his livestreams, even pretending sometimes to get jealous. “Why do you all keep asking about Y/n? I thought you came to see me.”

“‘Tell Y/n we love them.’ They already know, don’t worry.”

*Starts laughing* “‘Marry me Y/n?’ Yah, hang on a minute-!”

I think he would be hesitant to have you join him on a livestream, but if it becomes a frequent enough request, and if it was something you were comfortable with, he might consider it.

(If/when y’all finally do it, everyone would lose their gd minds. Getting to see you telling stories about dates/how you met, teasing each other for being shy on live, just being you together would make everybody melt)

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

#yoongi headcanons #yoongi scenarios #yoongi reaction #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #bts headcanons #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts requests #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts fluff #requests #7ndipity

[mariabtsos]

Fool's Gold ||j.jk||

Description: when Jungkook’s prank goes horribly wrong, will he be able to win you back or will this be the end of you and him?

Genre: Friends to Lovers, Prankster!Jungkook x f!reader, established relationship, April Fool's prank gone wrong, angst, hurt/comfort, miscommunication, happy ending.

Warnings: small act of violence.

Word Count: 4.4k+

This was supposed to be Jungkook's best prank yet. It was supposed to make you laugh and maybe smack his chest a little like you always did with his pranks.

You weren't supposed to ghost him.

You and Jungkook had met back when you still had dreams of becoming an idol, you both entered Big Hit's trainee program at the same time and you became quick best friends. You both shared the love for pranks and would help one another come up with silly ways of pranking each other's members.

You would also be each other's emotional support through the evaluations, the cuts and the other's leaving. He still remembered the day his Hobi hyung decided he didn't want to continue, how you held him so tightly and encouraged him to go tell his hyung how badly BTS needed him, he remembered when they first debuted and their performances kept being cut short, and how you assured him that they would be the biggest kpop group one day.

He also remembered the day you told him you were quitting.

“They are not going to debut us Jungkookie, I don't want to wait forever for a chance,” you told him, your bags were packed behind you and your parents were outside waiting for you.

He didn't want you to leave, and at first he didn't understand why you were doing this. Once he grew older and faced the challenges he and his bandmates were faced with he understood, but he still missed you terribly. It took 4 years and a lot of pestering Bang PD but he finally got your home phone number and he called you as soon as he got it.

“Yln residence?” It was almost pathetic how quickly he recognized your voice.

“Ynie?”

Reconnecting with you had been the best decision he ever made, it almost felt like no time had passed, and feelings he'd been reluctant to ponder on resurfaced every time he went to see you.

Every meeting, every call, every text, all of it immediately made Jungkook’s days a little brighter and his feelings for you a little stronger. He wanted nothing more than to call you his, and so he took a chance and asked you out with a prank.

He’d taken you to do grocery shopping with him for the dorm, you noticed his RUN BTS! cameraman was there which was very odd. Jungkook then confessed to you that he had talked to the owners about a prank on the security person, where you would see how big of a purchase you could make and leave with and go unnoticed. “I don’t know about this one Jungkookie,” you gave him an unsure grin as you started to walk out of the store with a cart full of groceries, “We’ll be okay Ynie,” he waved you off.

Obviously you weren’t okay.

To say you were almost immediately stopped by the security of the store was an understatement, it was almost like he was waiting for you. You were immediately so stressed for Jungkook, you could already see the dispatch headlines “BTS’s JUNGKOOK found stealing at grocery shop with mysterious girl” and you could already see the death threats coming through your inbox for making the young idol get in such trouble.

You panicked and tried explaining to the security guard what had happened, and what you were doing along with Jungkook but it was a lost cause. “I’m going to need you to come with me sir,” the older man said quickly, putting Jungkook’s arms behind his back. You could feel the tears well up as you kept murmuring “I’m sorrys” to him as they took him to the security room. It only took a couple of seconds for him to come back out with a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“What the fuck are you doing,” you laughed inbetween sobs.

“I’ve liked you for a while Ynie, and every day that we talk, text, or spend together makes me feel so much lighter and so much better, so would you go out with me and be mine?” His words were sweet and you couldn’t help but continue to laugh and nod. Jungkook pulled you in for a kiss and the people that were close enough to witness your interaction cheered and clapped.

Fast forward 9 and a half years and one military service later and here you were. When Jungkook came back from said service things were weird for you though.

It seemed like Jungkook’s pranks had increased, at first you didn’t mind playing along with him, you had missed him after all, and even if it was something a little out there — like the time he used nutella and asked you to “bring him toilet paper” just for him to wipe the chocolate spread on you; you felt like puking and were gagging for a good 10 minutes after that — you still enjoyed seeing his pretty bunny smile and hearing his giggles. After a while though, it almost felt like Jungkook had almost reverted back to his 13-15 year old ways, pranking you almost every day, you felt on edge all the time and, even if you knew it wasn’t true, you felt like this was the only way for him to like you.

So when he suddenly slowed down and no pranks happened in a few weeks, you felt that maybe he’d finally gotten over it, that he’d wanted to go back to normal. Then one day he’d started acting weird, well maybe not weird but something felt off, you chalked it up to him preparing for BTS’ next comeback so you didn’t really think much of it.

“Wanna go to the mall today?” He asked you. You were laying on the couch with your head laying on his legs, he was playing some video game and you were scrolling absentmindedly through your phone.

“Are you sure? You coming back is still pretty fresh, I don’t want us to get ambushed,” you put your phone on your chest and looked up at him.

You felt so comfortable in this position you were hoping Jungkook would say no and you would get to nap like this. His body was fit and defined but it was still so comfortable to lay on, and his thighs being so thick made them fantastic pillows. “I’m sure! I have a surprise for you,” he stated excitedly, and you wished you had read between the lines, you wished that you had seen the signs, because when you arrived at the mall he walked you around, making you pick out pretty outfits, pretty accessories and makeup. Then he walked you into jewelers, and you felt your heart race, was he planning what you thought he was planning? You wanted nothing more than for this to be Jungkook’s special way of letting you know he was planning on proposing.

You had talked about marriage in passing, during sleepy cuddle sessions and late night dinners. You were sure Jungkook would want to wait until he was older, maybe in his late 20’s or early 30’s, he had never told you otherwise and you had never really pushed super hard on it, but you had dropped little hints here and there. You sent him pictures of pretty gem cuts and ring designs you liked, you even sent him those tiktoks where people did different wedding dress themes. Okay, maybe you weren’t subtle, but you really wanted Jungkook to get the hint you’d been together for almost ten years, and although you were patient, you wanted to be his, forever.

The jeweler measured your ring finger. He showed you all the different designs, and you left the mall with all your bags, including a small one for your ring, which you had picked yourself. You made it to the car that was waiting for you just outside the mall.

“Where are we going next Kookie?” you asked cuddling close to him.

It was finally time for his prank, “we’re going to Namjoonie hyung’s apartment, it has the prettiest view.”

“Right now?!” you exclaimed.

“Yup! I have to give something to him.”

When you arrived, Jungkook made sure to tell you to bring your shopping bags with you since you’d be there a while. Was he going to do it all now? You were so nervous, you would have to make sure to ask Namjoon’s girlfriend, Jinhee, for help. When you got there and explained to her your suspicions she immediately dragged you to her and Namjoon’s shared bedroom, helping you get ready for the special moment that was to come.

“We do have a beautiful view,” she said as she added the final touches to your hair, “I’m so happy for you Ynie!” She hugged you tightly. The time came for you to come out of the room, Namjoon’s girlfriend wasn’t far behind you.

There was a lot of people there all the sudden, almost the entire 97 line, and all of BTS were there, you greeted everyone and then you heard Jungkook call out to you, you turned around to see him down on one knee, you started tearing up immediately, ready to hear his speech that you were almost certain he’d practiced for months because he was that kind of man.

And then it all came crashing down.

“Fire!” he yelled, and everyone pulled out cans of silly string, immediately spraying you. Your outfit and makeup were positively ruined, and everyone was laughing, well, everyone except you. How did you read it all so wrong, why did he get you all these things and have you look all pretty for a proposal, for this? Jungkook wasn’t this cruel was he? You felt the tears welling up more now. “Happy April Fool’s baby!”

This was supposed to be Jungkook’s best prank yet, why weren’t you laughing?

As the laughter died down and some of the attendees went back to their conversations others remained watchful of what was about to unfold. Jungkook got back to his feet and reached for your hand, he was confused when you pulled away. You loved his pranks! He wanted to make up for lost time after coming back from the military and make sure your relationship hadn’t changed and…why were you crying?

“Jagi? Are you o-” he couldn’t finish his sentence as he felt a sharp sting on his cheek. You... slapped him?

“Fucking dickhead,” you said, you tried your best to not let your voice break. You went back to Namjoon and his girlfriend's bedroom to grab your stuff, and then you swiftly left, slamming the door on your way out. You walked for a bit, making sure to put enough space between Namjoon's house and yourself. Eventually, you made it to a bus stop and got on.

You weren't supposed to be ghosting Jungkook, it was just supposed to be a fun prank. It had been a week and a half since his prank, and you hadn't texted or called, hell, Jungkook was even checking his email to see if maybe you had contacted him there, nothing. 

Maybe you were pranking him too?

He was shocked at your reaction, you loved his pranks. When you first met you connected over pranks, it was your thing. So, after being gone for 18 months and only being able to spend very minimal time together with you, he thought this would be a great way to reconnect again.

His hyungs were worried about both of you, Jungkook had been so out of it, all he did was go to work and come home to check his phone and watch the door, waiting for you to walk through it. The only person that had been able to contact you was Jinhee, and all she got was a short text stating you were okay and that you needed time.

So his hyungs had decided they were all going to stay at his apartment, he had a bunch of mattresses anyway, and make sure he wasn't doing something silly or stupid.

“Jungkookie?” Taehyung called him over, they were all getting ready to eat, and he was still sitting on his couch looking at his phone.

“Why won't she talk to me?” He groaned as he took a seat between Tae and Hoseok, putting his face in his hands.

His members looked at each other, “well, if I looked pretty and thought you were going to propose I wouldn't talk to you for a while either,” Yoongi said matter-of-factly, making Jungkook look up immediately.

“Jinhee said that when she was helping get Yn ready she mentioned you took her shopping and that you even had her pick a ring?” Namjoon explained, what followed was groans and multiple facepalms around the table.

“Jungkookie, please tell me you didn't have her do all that for a prank?” Jin stated, holding the bridge of his nose.

“She never explicitly said she wanted marriage! We talked about it in passing!”

“You've been together for almost ten years, and you didn't even ask her?!” Jimin got up abruptly, walking away slightly.

“She kept sending me engagement and wedding related things, but I just thought-” he stopped, realization finally hitting him… “I fucked up didn't I?” he let his head fall backwards.

You'd been home with your family, mainly staying in your room and crying away the embarrassment and hurt. Your parents were concerned, and your siblings had been trying to get you to talk, but all you did was sit there and look at a picture you had with Jungkook back when you were trainees.

“Sis,” your youngest sister gently shook your leg, “unnie please talk to me, I need to know what's wrong, we need to know what's wrong so we can help you,” you could hear her voice tremble, and you the last thing you wanted was for her to cry because she was worried about you.

“Jungkook pranked me,” you stated, your voice monotone. “Is that why you were covered with silly string?” you nodded, finally sitting up on your bed and lightly tapping the spot next to you.

“Well, you and Jungkook oppa have always loved to prank each other, what happened this time?” she asked as she took the spot. You summarized the situation, and watched as she went from angry, to sad, to pensive.

“Not trying to justify him doing that to you, but you said he looked shocked when you left?” You nodded, “I know you told me you'd sent him tiktoks and other hints, but did you ever specifically speak about marriage seriously?” She asked softly, you shook your hand.

“I assumed he didn't want that right now, which is why I was so excited when he took me out, I thought maybe he realized he did want it,” you explained.

“Sounds to me like you have some miscommunication going on there unnie,” she grinned awkwardly, “sure he could've read the hints, but if you don't actually talk about it, how are either of you supposed to know what the other wants?” She nudged your shoulder. You scoffed, realizing how right she was.

“When did you become so wise? Aren't you supposed to be 7?” You wrapped your arms around her for a hug.

“Try adding 10 years to that 7,” she rolled her eyes. 

You heard a pinging sound coming from your phone which was on your nightstand, you pulled away from your sister and looked at her, your worry obvious on your face, she grabbed your phone and handed it to you. “What's the worst that can happen?” She encouraged you.

When you unlocked your phone you saw all the texts and calls from everyone, the most recent being from the very man you had just talked about.

Ynie?

Can we talk please?

To say Jungkook was nervous was an understatement, when you texted him back agreeing to see him and talk he screamed and jumped just as he did when you'd agreed to your first date ever, way back when he found you again. His hyungs and his friends had given him all the advice to last at least five life times.

Five lifetimes wouldn't be enough to apologize.

You had agreed to meet in a park near your parents’ house, he wanted you to be as comfortable as possible and to not feel like he was ambushing you. If you wanted to leave, your parents were nearby, if you broke up… the thought made him shudder and his heart crack, that was the absolute worst case scenario.

He was taken out of his thoughts when he heard a car door closing, seeing you walking toward him feel relieved for a moment, and then he saw the dark circles under your eyes. Fuck, he was such a dick.

“Hi Jungkookie,” you greeted him once you were close enough. He just stood there looking at you.

Gosh how he'd missed your face.

“Hi Ynie,” he resisted the urge of enveloping you in a hug, he wanted to keep space between you two so you could, again, be as comfortable as possible. “Um, want to sit down at that bench over there?” He pointed a couple feet away from where you were standing, you nodded.

The short walk was quiet. Once you sat down you stayed in a weird awkward silence for a minute or so.

“I'm so sorry Ynie,” Jungkook started, “I never wanted to hurt you, I was so focused on us reconnecting after I got back,” he voice trembled, “I didn't pay attention to the hints, I ended up hurting you. I should've never taken you to do all those things if I wasn't going to follow through.”

You took a deep breath, looked at him in an oversized hoodie and sweats, he looked so sad. “Thank you,” you looked down at his hands, his fingers were twitching and you could tell he wanted to hold your hands.

“What you did wasn't okay, I felt humiliated in front of your friends and brothers,” your voice trembled, “I know jagi, I feel absolutely horrible about that,” he sniffled.

“I should've communicated with you what I wanted, because I wanted to marry you Jungkook, I wanted to be yours for the rest of my life,” you felt tears streaming down your face, “wanted?” he sobbed, he felt his heart breaking into a million pieces, so this was it, you were done with him.

He was so freaking dense, how could he have messed up one of the best things he'd had for a prank?

“Fuck, to think you could have a ring on your finger right now and still want to be with me if I hadn't been so fucking clueless,” he word vomited, he had nothing to lose. “I want nothing more than to be able to call you my wife Ynie, I'm sorry I-”

You took hold of his tattooed hand.

“I still want you Jungkook,” you admitted, “we just… need to work on communicating what we want better,” you sniffled, “maybe go to couple's therapy?” 

“Anything to bring you back to me,” his doe eyes were pleading with you, holding your hand so tight.

“Okay, let's go home.”

Grab the box I left on the bed and be ready by 7pm, I love you♡

That's the note Jungkook had left for you on your nightstand. Ever since that conversation at the park things had become so much better, he'd stopped pranking you almost all together, he'd been treating you extra special every day, and your therapist had asked that you took an hour out of the day to when you both got home from work to talk about your days and about one thing they were grateful the other did that day. Jungkook had proven he was sorry everyday.

And today, he'd left her a box with a beautiful cream colored milkmaid style, pink flower print dress with puffed short sleeves that reached just above your knees.

You put your hair up and left a few strands of hair out to frame your face, you put on brown wedges and went for a more natural makeup look. By the time you were spraying on your perfume it was 6:57, and you were ready to go for whatever Jungkook had planned.

He texted you letting you know he would wait for you in his car, so you grabbed your purse, phone and keys and headed out of your shared apartment and quickly made your way downstairs and to Jungkook’s car, he was waiting outside of the passenger door looking down at his phone.

“Hi Kookie!” You greeted him cheerfully.

He looked up at you and was floored, you had always been beautiful, but he would never not be shocked by it, especially when this dress hugged your body and enhanced your skin tone so nicely.

“You look ethereal jagi,” he sighed, looking at you like you were the 8th wonder of the world. You giggled and wrapped your arms around him once you reached him, “thank you,” you pulled away slightly so you could give him a couple of quick pecks, you could feel Jungkook smile with each kiss.

When you pulled away you saw he was wearing an almost all-black outfit — as usual for Jungkook — a button up black silky shirt with a couple of buttons undone and a white undershirt, with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, as well as fitted dress pants and shiny black dress shoes.

In short, he looked hot as fuck.

He opened the passenger side door for you, and put his hand out to help you get in. Once you were all set, he ran around and got in the car, and once he was all set he started driving.

“Where are we going yeobo?” You asked, placing your hand on his thigh.

“I planned a surprise for you.”

At first you were a bit apprehensive, considering how it went the last time he had planned a surprise. But you trusted Jungkook again, and you trusted he wouldn't do something as cruel as that again.

You drove for a little while and made it to a small park that was just so peaceful and beautiful. Jungkook opened your door and helped you out of the car, he was holding a small basket, “when did you get that?”

“No need to worry your pretty little head about it jagi” he smiled mischievously.

Oh boy

As you continued to walk you noticed the building outlines and poked out from the trees. “Those buildings seem familiar,” you said, “one of those is Namjoonie and Jiminie hyung’s apartment building,” he admitted absentmindedly.

“So this is the pretty view they have?” You took in the park one more time. That day six months ago you didn't really have time to look out of the balcony, you kind of just, ran. Jungkook just hummed in response, slowing down on his walk and turning into a small trail, where there were some open spots and a small wooden bridge over a river.

Jungkook set down the basket and pulled out a picnic blanket, laying it down on the grass and using small rocks to keep it down, “I think you're a little overdressed for a picnic Jungkookie,” you giggled, making him roll his eyes as he finished setting up the food, which consisted of gimbap, tteokbokki, and bibimbap.

“I just wanted to make sure I looked as good as you,” he got up and wrapped his arms around your waist, “I honestly still feel like I'm wearing sweats and a hoodie compared to how beautiful you look,” you blushed hard and helped you sit down on the blanket so you could eat.

Everything was delicious and you had a great time, which realistically you always had a great time with Jungkook, there was never a time where he didn't make you laugh so hard you would have tears rolling down your face. He made sure to clean up and put everything back into the basket and had it sit on the grass for a moment.

“Let's go to the bridge!” He took your hand and pulled you to the small wooden structure, he held onto the rail and you did the same. “Did you know this is a wishing bridge? That's why there's so many little coins down there.”

“Are we going to make a wish?” looking down at the river and the fishes swimming through it. “Yes, we are,” you heard him say, and when you turned toward him you yelped.

Jungkook was getting down on one knee.

He was truly a product of Namjoon though, no sooner than he was getting down on his knee, he tripped and the ring box he was pulling out of his pocket fell through the wooden rail. You tried to catch it but it was no use, and watched as the box floated away, you were trying to hold back tears so you could comfort Jungkook but when you turned to him again, he was down on one knee, with the most beautiful ring you had ever seen between his fingers.

“Gotcha!” He giggled, “six months ago I thought I’d lost you, I knew I fucked up big time and when you took me back I vowed to myself to make it up to you every day,” you felt the tears streaming down your face, much like that day 6 months ago, but this time you weren't being humiliated, and this time they were happy tears. “I want to make you smile every day, every night. I want you to be there with me when we win our first Grammy, on our first tour back as seven. Most importantly I want us to have an amazing life together, even after we retire and I am wrinkly and my hair is all gray. So, Ynie, jagi, would you marry me?”

At this point you were ugly crying, and all you could do was nod profusely. Jungkook shakily slipped the ring on your finger and stood up, hugging you so tight you just had to laugh because he was never going to live down the muscle bunny nickname.

“I love you,” he said when you both pulled away, cupping your face with his hands. “I love you too,” you smiled sincerely, and he closed the pace between you with a kiss.

This is your and Jungkook’s greatest moment, he was so happy.

#bts fanfic #bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook au #bts au

[yoongsisbae]

Stories by Member

JJK

Not a Creature was Stirring You wake up Christmas Eve night not to find Santa, but to find a man cold and shivering on your front porch. Clothes tattered, cuts on his body, out in the snow. You find out he’s not as helpless as he appears. Kind of cute, kind of scary, very buff Jungkook Fantasy AU. Spring Day Still with You [Sequel to Not a Creature was Stirring] You ran away from the cold, Jungkook ran with you, warming each other’s hearts. But within the cycle of life, there is death, and as spring blooms, the blood still lays soaked in the dirt. You ran and they chased. Hybrid!Jungkook.

Banana Milk It’s Jungkook’s Birthday, will he get his birthday wish?

The Fantasy You and your boyfriend try out a new form of role play, but it just keeps going wrong…

I Didn’t Mean It, I Still Love You Yoongi made a mistake, will you forgive him? Or is it too late?

Ddak-ji SLAP Jungkook, Seokjin, and you decide to play a game…and then you fu-

Campfire Burning A steamy fic inspired by a certain vlive.

Seven Days a Week Every day, Jungkook shows you his devotion, deeper than the ocean. Seven different scenarios, seven days a week. idol!jungkook x noona!reader

Go Home, You're Drunk! - 75% “Who…are…you…” “Your worst nightmare, sweetheart.” “Really? Because you look like you belong in a boyband.” whacky and dark & for all the girlies who love an unhinged yandere character

The Snap - 70% The only surviving member of BTS, it takes Jungkook five years to find happiness again. And then life snapped back. What is Jungkook going to do now?

KTH

Christmas with a Vampire There once was a time when holidays were warm and special, Taehyung remembers. To you, even in his coldness, Taehyung is all you need for Christmas. Cyber-punk futuristic AU with a self-hating vampire Tae.

BTS Song Fic (Blue and Grey) Sad song. Sad story. Sad author. Happy reader?

V is for Villain 1 / 2 / 3 - 90% What does it mean to be a villain? What does it really mean to be a vigilante? A vanquisher of evil or a victor for the good? Stories praise the fall of devils, cheer at the marvels of the virtuous, and forget the victorious tell a version conveniently veiling their own atrocities. Evilness was once the brightest star in heaven. And goodness, well, morality can so often be contentious. This time, there is the hero with the strength of a hundred men, there is the villain that can vanish his vulnerabilities in a very instant, and then there’s you. Superclumsysuperhero!RMverse AU.

PJM

Christmas Mass Every Sunday, like clockwork, as designed and ordained, you sit quietly. Pray. Christmas mass comes, tonight your congregation dresses beautifully, like ornaments placed in a row right in front of God. Your priest, stands at the head like an angel atop the tree, commanding and pious and hauntingly handsome. Red. You’re a good faithful girl. You were taught to be, punished to be. You pray for respite, for something more than the condemnation this cold and icy town bestows upon you. Sinners. The coldness permeates your bones, you’re always scared. Tainted. Terrified of sin, terrified by your thoughts for your priest. Sacrilegious. This Christmas prayers are answered by no God. Demon AU. Dark smut.

You Asked for Help, He Asked Your Name You ran away from your responsibilities, but they caught you and tried to lay claim to your body. If your life was never going to be yours anyways, you decided might as well give it away and make a deal. fairyprince!Jimin

KNJ

Your Friendly Neighborhood Superhero, RM Best friends 2 Lovers. Idiots 2 Lovers. Lovers 2 Enemies? This is a different kind of superhero story ;) Christmas Lights Out! Agust D vs RM Super Hero Christmas Special! You visit your hometown during the holidays. You and your childhood friend Joon reminisce and you learn more about your smooth tech talker business partner Yoongi. Can he win you over once and for all? Set in Super Clumsy Super Hero RM universe. Extended Scene: The Mind Reader, The Telekinetic and The Closet just silly and raunchy and ridiculous, dirty thoughts...it goes there. V is for Villain 1 / 2 / 3 - 90% What does it mean to be a villain? What does it really mean to be a vigilante? A vanquisher of evil, or a victor for the good? Stories praise the fall of devils, cheer at the marvels of the virtuous, and forget the victorious tell a version conveniently veiling their own atrocities. Evilness was once the brightest star in heaven. And goodness, well, morality can so often be contentious. This time, there is the hero with the strength of a hundred men, there is the villain that can vanish his vulnerabilities in a very instant, and then there’s you.

I Appreciate Your Apology A Christmas party has you on thin ice with your favorite dom. Daddy Joon appreciates your apology, but does he accept it? daddydom!Joon smut, PWP, filth, aka Joon edging you until you see sleighbells.

Cold Feet You don’t want to get married anymore, what does Namjoon want? 

JHS

Day Dream The days are hotter, the nights are hotter too. You sleep, restless. Tired, you sleep more, you sleep and you dream and you meet the dream walker and things somehow become even steamier. Sandman!Hoseok Dream Analysis / Alternate Ending 

Disco Winter Ball You and your friend Hoseok are best friend buddies going on a date to the annual disco winter ball. But it’s not a date date, okay? You and Hoseok just love music and you love dancing and Hoseok loves watching you dance. Wait not love, not in that way! A friendly love. Just friends. Just two friends who drink a little too much eggnog. HOAL couple holiday special

I Thought You Were Mine? Drunk arguing leads to drunk fuc–

MYG

The Woman with the Black Cat on Her Shoulder Fearful, they buried them, stomped them into the dirt. Underneath their boot, scared men were unaware the seeds of hope had planted by their own volition. From the dirt and grime, grew flowers, blooms so tall, eclipsing their hatred. You were strong and unwilling to be cut down any more. Shapeshiftercat!yoongi.

Yoongi is a Rock That’s it. That’s the plot. Yoongi is a rock. Audio Ver. by the talented @voice-over-ff

I Didn’t Mean It, I Still Love You Yoongi made a mistake, will you forgive him? Or is it too late? 

Christmas Lights Out! Agust D vs RM Super Hero Christmas Special! You visit your hometown during the holidays. You and your childhood friend Joon reminisce and you learn more about your smooth tech talker business partner Yoongi. Can he win you over once and for all? Set in Super Clumsy Super Hero RM universe.

King of Corruption [Sequel to Christmas Mass] The organ player takes his time with you, holding you and caressing your body while you sleep, until you can’t discern your dreams from your reality. A king and a sleeping beauty, his name leaves your lips like a prayer, prostated at his feet in blind reverence…the perfect position for him to corrupt and defile you. Demon AU. Dark smut.

KSJ

The Flower Bridge You couldn’t, you didn’t want to, not anymore, the pain was too much, you wanted it to end, so you visited the bridge. Standing at the highest point, the wind stung, but your problems were bigger, your pain was stronger than the whipping air and your anguish deeper than the water below. Tethered in the center, connecting the place you came from and the place you were going, you found another type of bridge and he found you. Ghost!Seokjin.

Meet Cute, Time Loop A story where Seokjin loves you before you love him before he loves you.

Ddak-ji SLAP Jungkook, Seokjin, and you decide to play a game…and then you fu-

Seokjin’s Ho Ho Ho Your boyfriend surprises you with a Christmas dinner on the beach, things get a little steamy, candy canes get sucked, peppermint liquor might be involved, there is definitely some questionable Santa Costume attire, and lots of jolly lovin’! HOAL couple holiday special.

Christmas Lights Out! Agust D vs RM Super Hero Christmas Special! Extended Scene: The Mind Reader, The Telekinetic and The Closet just silly and raunchy and ridiculous, dirty thoughts...it goes there.

Gangnam Girlfriend: Korea’s #1 Celebrity Dating Show with your Host, International Super Star, Jin Welcome to Gangnam Girlfriend! Where Korea’s top eligible singles fight for a chance at love! You're supposed to be playing the dating game right? Not sneaking off in the middle of the night with the show’s host to watch the stars and talk about all your lost love connections, cuddling under a blanket. And even if the choice is clear, Kim Seokjin can't date you, the reason you joined is because you wanted a public relationship, and Jin could neverrr. Even though he wants to finally settle down! But Hybe wouldn't let him join as a contestant so he took the next best thing instead, our story's beloved host, yet now he's regretting his decision as he watches the girl he is starting to fall for fall for someone else, oh no! Meet the Cast / Epi1 - 85%

OT7

SERIES

Bon Voyage: Into the Sea [Fantasy AU] A storm capsized your boat and looks like you were the only survivor. Somehow you made it to shore, but where? Stranded, you suddenly find out you are not alone, and now you’re stuck in the middle of a centuries old conflict between 7 monsters. Member Imagines /Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4 /  Ch5 / Ch6 / Ch7 - 5% / ?

Handshakes of a Lifetime [Soulmate AU] …the meeting room is getting closer and closer, basking you and those around you in warm light, and you think about all the internet comments people write about this kind of moment, “she must have saved a country in her past life to experience this.” Playlist / Ch1 / Drabble - JJK / Ch2 / Ch3 / X-mas - JHS / Ch4 / X-mas - KSJ / Ch5 / Ch6 / Ch7 / Ch8 / Ch9 / Ch10 - 10% / ?

Caught! House of Cards [Yandere AU] You needed money. The pandemic offered little options. So you joined a website to make some quick and easy cash. Men paying to look at you, harmless fun, right? It was a decision you didn’t think too much about, you just wanted an income again. Little did you know how dangerous the members of House of Cards were. You weren’t prepared for the consequences of your actions. Watch out! Houses built with cards come tumbling down… Profiles / Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4 / Xmas Drabble - KTH / Ch5 - 90% / ?

Run Run Run [Zombie Apocalypse AU Slow Burn] A zombie apocalypse breaks out and you’re stuck on a plane with none other than…BTS! Oh, you thought because you were an Army that would help you survive? Girl think again. Member Poll / Seoul Flow / Yangyang Living / Seoul Town Road / Hwarang Freestyle / Seoul Close / Samsung State of Mind - 5% / The Big Hit Break In! - TBA / ?

T H E T A K E O V E R [BTS Apocalypse / Dystopian AU Thriller] The recruits of Bangtan Academy were trained to be super soldiers, to be the strongest, fastest, most cunning fighters in the world. Now they are being put to the test! You were at the bottom of your class, but you noticed the cracks in the system first, what are you going to do? Run or try to save the world Prequel / Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 - 78% / ?

DRABBLES

BTS (as kisses) / BTS (as holidays) / BTS (as drinks)

BTS Cheering You Up While Studying Korean

MASTERLISTS

Naughty Girl Christmas BTS X-MAS Masterlist

Spring Fling Fantasy Stories that Bloom Masterlist

BTS Supers RM Verse Masterlist (coming soon…)

Original Masterlist

#bts masterlist #bts imagines #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fantasy au #bts hybrid au #bts yandere #bts soulmate au #ot7 x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #yoongi x reader #jimin x reader #namjoon x reader #hoseok x reader #seokjin x reader

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

sink, m | jjk

you left your hair tie, battin’ those eyes by the sink, you leave ‘em behind think I know why – 'hair tie' by ØZI

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; friends-with-benefits going downhill thanks to shitty communication; smut (fem reader, f and m-receiving oral, heavy petting, m-masturbation, ball spanking, spit kink, breath kink, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS – fuckboy?Jungkook x rock fan!reader tired of his shit XD inspired by the song above and ofc I referenced 'Too Much' ;)

--

You left your hair tie by my sink again.

Oh, shit, my bad. I’ll pick it up next time I’m over. :)

You left him on read.

Went back to brushing your teeth, looking down on the clear hair tie by your sink. It was one of those squiggly ones that were meant to not leave ceases in the hair. Not one of those that could easily be secured on the wrist. He must have taken it out right after. Well. He had needed it. You would have opened the window to get that cool night air, but Jeon Jungkook was loud when he was fucking.

Hm.

He sweat a lot when he was fucking. All over his back and chest, his skin glistening in the rainbow starlight generated by your mood lamp. You didn’t really care if the lights were on or off. He liked mood lighting, so he bought it and left it in your room so he could turn it on when he wanted to turn you on. Always tried to act all cool about it, as if you didn’t know exactly what he wanted when he hit you up. As if he actually needed to talk to you in-person about the latest installment of the Marvel universe.

Uh huh.

Somehow your back had ended up against his chest. Somehow his mouth had ended up by your neck and somehow his hand had ended up sliding under your shirt. Can’t stay too late, he always said. Same lines to the same old story. You half-scoffed into the mirror, switching sides of your teeth. The same routine, accidentally knocking the light switch, somehow knowing exactly where in your nightstand the remote for the mood lighting was, and then it was clothes on the floor. Your hand around his wrist and your hot breath by his ear, the fuck you think you’re doing?

“What? Too much?” he had replied with a smirk.

The shit Jeon Jungkook pulled.

Fuck it.

The hair tie must have been because he had planned to eat you out today. Precautions. He was better at it this time than the last. It wasn’t that his black hair was excessively long. A good amount simply fell past his ears when he leaned forward and, between your thighs, it stuck when he sweat. You might have lightly complained about it last time. Jungkook was self-conscious enough to remember and pull back the upper half of his hair before showing up at your doorstep. His own damn fault since he liked to plant his hands on your ass and drag you forward into his face, strong tongue consistently and firmly pressed to your clit and looking up at you with those round dark brown eyes of his. He had been trying to tease you but you saw right through him.

“A little higher up,” you had gently prompted.

The simmering waves danced through your veins as soon as he obeyed. Your hand had eventually found the back of his head. Crowning touch and locking your hips, feeling your slickness press against his lower lip and chin. The thought of your juices smeared into his double lip rings. Your tense thighs pressed into his jaw and cheeks. His long fingers sinking into the full curve of your ass.

The ghost of imprinted fingertips lingering on your skin.

You leaned over the sink bowl and spit out foam.

Jungkook had been truly annoying about it from the start. Needed to know that he was the best you had ever had. First kiss was an accident in the way that accidents don’t really happen. The kind of accident that was you getting into his face after he called you at three twenty-four in the morning and ordering you to stay on the line so he didn’t drunkenly pass out while walking home on a night out. He had even thrown up in some poor neighbor’s flowerbed mid-walk. The next day you had gone over to his place with take-out food and an annoyed attitude, confronting him after he had groggily brushed his teeth, smelling his minty breath as you scolded him that he was too old for this shit, right next to his bathroom sink.

Jungkook’s dark brown eyes had given you this look.

And you immediately knew how this was going to play out.

The kiss was to get you off my case, he said.

But.

“But… would you do it again?”

You rinsed your mouth out and applied your lip balm.

Not seeing yourself in the mirror, but instead seeing your shocked face from back then, squeezed between his bare arms and tasting the mint of his breath, strands of his black hair against your face. You remembered the way he smelled. Like warm, crystal-clear rain. The residual notes of cologne. You had found it later on his dresser. A square glass bottle.

Calvin Klein, Euphoria for men.

Strange, you had smelled that scent on other men before but he never smelled as good as it did on Jeon Jungkook.

But he did this shit all the time. A little kiss here. A little kiss there. Loved to disappear and pop up at just the right time when you were thinking about him and suddenly you were alone with exploring hands and a smiling mouth, is it too much, and you would reply in your most unfazed tone, shut the fuck up. He would promise he wasn’t fucking around but also he wouldn’t stick around either. You didn’t chase him but also you would blow his mind every time. Like that one instance where he had thrown himself into the wall and wheezed for air after you non-stop sucked him off for three orgasms straight, only stopping because you were done swallowing.

“Fuck… How does your mouth always get me hard so fast, f-fuck…”

“Told you not to question me,” was your calm reply as you wiped your lip with the heel of your palm.

There was no way that you were going to tell Jeon Jungkook that he was driving you insane with his behavior. Maybe he really wanted you to be the one to say it. But you weren’t going to, not with his constant, too much or next time or his stupid non-accidental leaving of his hair tie by your sink. He had shirts and sweatpants left behind in your apartment, just in case. The scent of Euphoria for men lingering on your bedsheets for a few hours, but it would disappear before the morning.

Just like him.

You knew Jungkook didn’t like it that you never tried to stop him from leaving.

“If you have to go, you have to go.”

If he wanted to, he would.

You left the bathroom, holding your phone loosely.

-

Jeon Jungkook looked up at the ceiling and wondered if she would let him love her the way he did.

He had a sinking feeling.

It started in the way that all accidents don’t happen. His finger hovering over her name in his contacts one too many times. More than one of those drunk times actually pressing it and then immediately ending the call. And then a single one of those extra drunk times not hanging up when she answered at the second ring. The fuck was she doing up at three in the morning anyway? His drunk brain was too over the moon to care though. His impulses uninhibited and his mouth going off before his brain could keep up.

Then promptly informing her that he needed to vomit and throwing up in some random flowerbed.

Not one of Jungkook’s best moments.

For some reason, she hadn’t completely written him off for that. Both a good thing and bad thing. A good thing because at least that didn’t disgust her. A bad thing because it made him fall in love a little harder. Then she had showed up on his doorstep the next morning with breakfast and looking like a million bucks. She looked too beautiful with tousled hair and that stern kindness. Even her lips moving as she chided him, you are not a kid anymore, you’re an adult, they looked so soft and inviting and she didn’t back away from he leaned in.

His head hurt like hell but he did it.

Her perfume was sweet and smokey and addictive.

He could still remember the feeling of her hand on his chest. Only thin white jersey separating him from those five fingertips. What are you doing? It was his fault. She put him on the spot and he couldn’t admit it fast enough. Getting you off my case. She shoved him and he laughed it off, setting a precedence that he couldn’t stop. No.

Didn’t.

“But… would you do it again?”

She had scoffed at him.

“Let’s see if you’re brave enough to meet me after dark when you’ve got a clearer head. Bye.”

There was something in that expression that dared him. Something in her body language that he couldn’t get out his head. Word on the street was don’t fuck around and find out, so Jungkook did precisely what any man would do when encountered with that information.

He fucked around and found the fuck out.

“Hey, now.”

Shit, her ass had looked so damn good in those black leather pants.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing, punk?”

He had never met a better tongue. And her breath. He had begged her to breathe on him before. Hot and heavy like his heart, over his neck and chest and down his abs, warming the line of spit made by her wicked tongue. Unseen marks that stayed in his mind when he closed his eyes, looking down to her sensual stare, locking eyes with him as her tongue curled around the swollen head of his cock. Didn’t even need to look. So fucking hot. There was magic in that mouth. He never knew what to expect next but it was always exactly what he wanted. Soft and tight. Rough and deep. Warm tongue that curled around his girth and pressed him into the ridges, driving him insane with the sensations and the pressure.

If he had ever wanted anyone else, he had already forgot about them.

Jungkook refused to believe that she fucked anyone but him with that kind of vigor. She would place her palms on the headboard and ram her hips into him like he owed her goddamn rent. Pussy squeezing him all around. Dripping down his balls, sticking to his inner thighs. She would throw her hair back and grin after she blew his mind, sure, I can go again, like it was no big deal even though his chest was about to burst. He must be special.

Right?

He had brought a hair tie with him last night so his hair would stop sticking to his face.

He needed a haircut.

It made him so mad that she wouldn’t take the bait. She would corner him before he had his trap set and then he would balk under her stare, lips to lips to avoid saying anything. Hand to skin. Lips to his jaw, tongue playing with his earrings.

He just didn’t know.

Jungkook rolled in his bed, wishing it was her body beside his.

Stay away. She was a nightmare dressed like a daydream, everyone said. Road to ruin, everyone said. He didn’t care about that shit but he could feel the distance. Even between naked bodies and tongue to tongue, Jungkook got the feeling that she was never going to need him and that pissed him off. Was that stubbornness? Yeah. But wasn’t she being stubborn too by not giving in to what was so clearly there?

He had pulled the hair tie out and put it by the faucet, rinsing off his face to clear his head.

I’m not gonna stay if she doesn’t make me, he had said to himself, using her soft white hand towel to wipe his face. Looked at himself in the mirror and remembered that morning when she had come up behind him, yanking his shoulder and telling him he was too old for this shit. He wished she had done the same thing to him last night too.

But she hadn’t.

The sinking feeling persisted.

He texted back and he would get the hair tie next time. Next time. But she was pulling away and he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t like it. It made him irritated. It made him think he didn’t need this. It made him think he didn’t want anyone else because he was addicted to her now.

And.

It made him sad.

He looked to see if she had replied and of course she hadn’t. Reached back and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside with a click of his tongue. Needed a shower. Needed to wash her memory off his mind. Maybe make an effort to call his friends and go out tonight.

Jungkook got up from his bed, holding onto his phone.

-

People were scared to be messy these days. But not you. The world was always going to be chaos. The only way to be in control of it was to be at the center.

Or start it.

You liked to be alone and you liked to be alone amongst people. The kind of feeling most people dreaded. You slid in deeper, deeper into the crowd, caged by body heat and bated breath. The world was darkness alight with neon points. The thundering bass traveling up from the floor seized the heart, threatening to stop it. A steady, continuous beat before the chaos. The other audience members where whispering amongst themselves in the dark. And there you were, standing in the vacuum of space surrounded by universes abound, and you the black hole, catching bits and pieces of their excited conversations, passively devouring in their palpable anticipation.

The music started.

The mosh pit came alive.

You had earplugs to prevent permanent damage for your dangerous pastime. Drums and guitar and guttural vocals. Bodies on the floor and leaning up against yours, even jostling you, but you paid it no mind, licking your teeth and letting the vicious, subline energy burn through you. It was hard to think about anything else. The band was alternative rock but they occasionally covered heavier songs live which was a real treat for your nostalgia.

A phase you never grew out of, heh.

You headbanged along and thankfully the hair tie kept the majority of your hair away from your face.

Not that it would have really mattered here. The concert was a psychedelic and everyone here was under the influence, lost in their own high, too deep into each song, reliving old memories and creating new ones. No one would care if you were sweaty. Everyone was sweating. Still, even with the mesh cutouts on the thighs, you probably shouldn’t have worn these leather pants. Now it was becoming disturbingly hot and you were really hoping adrenaline could make you forget about it. At least you had opted for a mesh long-sleeve shirt and loose crop top with the band’s logo on your upper half. Plus, you learned from last time – a skimpy black swimsuit top under instead of a bra.

Moisture-wicking, check.

“Nice jewelry.”

“Thanks,” was your quick reply between songs. They were talking about your tangle of silver bracelets and chain necklaces, you assumed. You did not really want to engage anyone too much. Rock bands tended to attract a lot of unsavory men. You never knew who you were amongst unless you trusted too much, so it was better to be distant and vigilant.

You tensed during the interlude as the band took a break.

“Are you by yourself? Me too.”

It was years of unfortunate experience that made you relax, because now you could tell the difference between someone you could hurt and someone that could hurt you. You didn’t check your phone when it vibrated while you spoke to the man who approached you. You could feel it and your cardholder practically glued to your hip in these tight leather pants. You weren’t going to get pickpocketed without a fight. But that wasn’t what this was. The guy was calm. Young face with an oddly wise aura. Seemed a little nervous. He was cute in a shy way.

Reminded you of someone.

Intimidating with his broad shoulders and all-black fit. Black hair swept over his forehead and soft dark eyes so large that they reminded you of boba pearls. You got him to smile easily. He had a brilliant, stunning smile. Apparently, he was supposed to meet a date and they flaked on him. It could have been a fabricated story, but he seemed genuine in the way he described it. Since he had already paid, he had decided to stick around. Noticed you because, unlike everyone else tightly packed in their groups, you thrashed alone. He said he was surprised that you had come alone. Even more surprised when you clarified that you had wanted to come alone.

“Well, big bad lone wolves like me can protect timid chipmunks like you, hm?” you joked.

After all, the world didn’t stop revolving just because Jeon Jungkook didn’t try hard enough.

That made him laugh and you let him enjoy the night with you. Even without knowing someone deeply, there was just something about enjoying music together that was its own intense experience. Bonded by bass and beating hearts, by the winded lightheadedness of whipping your heads too hard, by melodies that reminded you of darker times that made you stronger now, strong enough to be alone and casually with another, impulsively letting this strange wrap his arms around your legs and lift you so you could blow your lungs out and go hoarse during the last song.

You didn’t even feel your phone vibrate again because the bass was too fucking intense.

You bounced off that broad shoulder as the lights went down, laughing manically, electricity still simmering in your veins.

“I always wanted to do that.”

“Glad I could help,” the handsome stranger was chuckling. “You’re insane.”

It was, and you took it as such, a compliment.

You didn’t see Jeon Jungkook’s double text until you pulled out your phone to get this guy’s number.

Hey.

I see you.

A strange feeling. But you did as you intended and broke away, not lingering as the rest of the crowd filed out. You weren’t sure if this annoyed new guy, and at the moment you didn’t really care. Life, after all, was not a fairy tale. You wouldn’t have linked up tonight anyway, with or without Jungkook’s texts. The concert had been set in was a small venue next to a bar. People were either going through the side door or through the bar to keep the night going. You also followed towards the bar because you needed to get to the main street to get to the train.

If Jungkook had seen you, he must have brought tickets as well.

You hadn’t thought to even ask him.

You texted back.

You still see me?

Yeah.

You raised your eyebrows at the immediate answer, breaking out the crowd and moving towards the wall. You didn’t, however, look up. You weren’t about to give that satisfaction. Checked the time and the train schedule. Hm. You debated on whether or not to entertain this bullshit.

You look really good. Love your hair like that.

It took effort to not roll your eyes. Thing is, he could just approach you right now. The crowd was thinning out, but you ignored everybody and stayed glued to your phone. The only reason he wasn’t, then, was because he must be with others, which meant for some reason he didn’t want them to know that he was talking to you right now.

And.

That shit really pissed you off.

You cocked an eyebrow.

Come get your hair tie.

One of those times where you actually wanted to be left on read.

But he disappointed you.

Your place or mine?

You stuck your tongue in your cheek and dropped your hand, shoving your phone into your leather pants. Didn’t bother looking around. Just started walking out the door, thinking about the fastest route to the train station. Huh. Twenty-first century and Jeon Jungkook was out here thinking only guys like him could be fuckboys. You pushed through the smoked glass, out into the cool night and bustling street lit up with streetlamps and neon signs. Maybe you should have followed that stranger tonight. No. Deep down, you knew this wasn’t right. You shook your head at no one, whipping your hair about your shoulders, and began your brisk walk, Jeon Jungkook on your brain.

Fucking idiot.

-

He realized it too late.

The top of her hair had been pulled back, half-up, half-down, with wisps of bangs around her face, and he recognized those black leather pants, damn, her ass looks so good, and then he still didn’t get it as her shoulders slumped. She completely ignored his reply, walking out instead.

Ten minutes and then it hit him.

Come get your hair tie.

Fuck.

“Sorry, guys, I gotta go.”

“What? Why? Did something happen?”

“Yup, bye.”

“Yah, Jeon–”

He didn’t even wait to hear his name being called, instead jumping over the chairs in haste and one beat away from running, just now realizing how fucking stupid he was. His heart fluttering as he knew a little piece of him was with her, but he was also mad. One of his friends had suggested the concert thing earlier tonight, and they had arrived late, staying in the back with their beers and enjoying the music. It had been a small, dark venue, but it suited the band and their heavy sound. Jungkook thought he had been going a little crazy, thinking about her all night with a drink in his hand, so crazy that he thought he had seen her silhouette towards the front. Thought he recognized that flying hair and rocking shoulders, but, no way, right? Then that same girl was lifted onto a shoulder and bouncing with her hand held high.

Devil horns and everything.

Whoever it was tipped her head back and Jungkook swore he recognized that back and those body proportions. Then her hoarse voice entered the meld of screams and instruments and boosted bass.

And he knew.

She was with someone.

Someone that wasn’t him.

He wanted to remind her. Remind her it was him that held her last night, remind her it was his mouth between her legs and his hands on her ass, but mostly he just wanted to remind himself. He wanted to know who it was that she was with but she had emerged from the doors alone. Weird. It made him feel a little better though. Selfish, Jungkook knew, but so he was. He had stayed were he was, at a table with his friends, out of her sight, but she didn’t even look up. Really. She was willing to make him feel all kinds of fucked up and not willing to even look the fuck up.

Okay.

Come get your hair tie.

Yeah, okay. Okay, she wanted to use him. Fine. Fine, he was cool with that. But she left him on read. In fact, he watched her not look back and leave. Wow. And then it hit him and now he was running in the night, past flooding pools of light and wishing to catch a glimpse of mesh sleeves or black leather pants or even those heavy black boots with silver metal heel. Now he was throwing himself onto the train and trying to remember which one was her stop, wondering why he didn’t see the invitation for what it was. Now time was a thief stealing away the perfect moment and he was chastising himself for not chasing that feeling that he wasn’t so sure about.

-

You pulled the clear hair tie out of your ponytail. The squiggly kind that was meant not to leave ceases in the hair. The strands still ended up wild from the headbanging and the windy night. You ran your fingers through it haphazardly, annoyed when your fingers caught a snag. Scowling at your bathroom mirror as you untangled the strands and wondered why the fuck you ever let Jeon Jungkook get in your brain and drive you insane.

Fuck it.

Fuck him.

Your body was still on a high from the concert. Nerves alight, senses simulated, emotions caught in a rollercoaster. You yanked your clear earplugs out and cleaned them off in your bathroom sink, patting them dry with your hand towel and leaving them next to the hair tie.

You looked down at it.

Should throw it away.

Your hand reached out and then there were three loud thumps at your apartment door.

You jerked and backtracked, surrounded by no light except for the one from the bathroom. It was a short walk. You had to step past your heavy black boots, careful not to stub your toe on the metal heel, and peered through the peephole, seeing a large dark brown eyeball because Jeon Jungkook was too damn close to your door.

You yanked it open.

“The fuck–”

And froze.

He was panting, slightly hunched over. Wearing a black racer jacket with white stripes. It lay half off one shoulder, exposing the black tank top underneath and a peek of his right arm tattoos. Slate blue jeans with slight rips on one knee and black boots, but none of that made you stop and stare, not even his furrowed brow and annoyed expression.

“You cut your hair,” you beathed.

It was fresh. Sides cut short, with the top layer long enough to touch his brows. Currently half swept back, probably from running around. A few strands fell by his dark eyes, additional shadows to this harrowed tension. You backed up. He stepped in, one hand catching the doorframe.

Jungkook glared at you and you felt none of that fake frostiness.

“Yeah, I had a hair appointment today,” he huffed. “I didn’t come for the damn hair tie.”

It was all piling together. The moments of hands around each other’s waist, around his wrist, around his hard cock with his low voice in your ear. Don’t stop. The things unsaid and not said. The nights with him and the mornings without him. Backing away from Calvin Klein’s Euphoria still clinging to your sheets. Alone. The music of your youth, hard and rough and full of anger. The strength of a stranger and the cold air of the night, and suddenly you felt alive, alive and needing answers and fucking pissed off at all the shit Jeon Jungkook pulled.

You let him in your apartment, but not in your space.

“How did you know where I was going to be?” you accused.

The door fell shut.

Jungkook cocked his head. Dark eyes finding yours, cornering you with his gaze. You locked stares and did not back down. “Where else you gonna go but home?” he shot back.

You narrowed your own eyes and didn’t bite your tongue.

“How would a guy like you know what home even means?”

-

Goddamn, the one always knew how to hit him where it hurt.

He stopped moving forward.

But his heart was racing fast, remembering all the moments piling together. Lips to lips, hips to hips, and how tightly she held him, as if she wasn’t going to let him go. Not falling for any of the traps he set but drawing him closer and closer each time with that look in her eyes. Alone. Trying to forget how it felt to be held by her even through it was the most secure he had ever been.

Thinking about it now, maybe too much.

His voice wavered in the darkness between them.

“But, would you do it again?”

She paused at his question. Those eyes seemed a little less shadowy, a little less space between them but only for this second. Kept her hands by her sides though, not reaching out to him.

“How much of this was a lie?��� she quietly asked.

He answered honestly.

“None of it.”

She scrutinized him. He stayed an open book. Mostly because he didn’t know any other way to cover up except run, can’t stay too late, didn’t know what was the right thing to do when clearly he had done so much wrong, didn’t know how this was going to end but Jungkook damn well knew this was gonna fuck him up for his whole life.

Silence.

That sinking feeling.

“You have time to spend?” she finally asked.

-

“Yeah.”

Must be a dream.

You closed the distance, trying to stay awake, watching his eyes. Waiting for Jungkook to run, as he did so many times before. He always had somewhere to be that wasn’t here. Following his dark brown eyes, the memory of his taste on your tongue, breathing in the clean scent of Euphoria, closer, body heat radiating off him, and Jungkook bit his lip, causing the two silver lip rings to catch what little light there was, like punctured stars in the darkness between you and him.

His lashes lowered.

You looked at him, unfazed.

Raised your hand.

Placed five fingertips on his black top. Thin jersey fabric between skin to skin, and you walked them up his chest, staring into the windows of his soul to find the truth. Your lips formed his name, but made no sound. His own followed suit, breathing your name under a tense exhale, not yet moving, shivering as your middle finger traced his chain necklace.

“You never have time to spend,” you murmured, your breath against his jaw.

He lowered his head, gaze flickering away. Then back, mumbling even though he meant it.

“I’m sorry.”

You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head.

Opened your mouth to chastise him, but all that came out was an exasperated chuckle.

“Don’t do it again.”

You pressed your lips against his.

Jungkook stole your breath and sank into you.

Your hand pressed into his chest and his arms slid around your waist. His fingers splayed out under your crop top, pressing the slinky micro-mesh against your skin and sending a tingling sensation up your spine. He tasted like haste and hunger. Warmth spreading out, squeezing your torso between leather-covered arms, gasping when your tongue flickered against his lips. Slow. Teasing. Dragging it out. Your other hand slid under his jacket, grasping the small of his waist and digging your nails in. He winced, a small whimper, then tried to cover it up by pulling back slightly, but your tongue remained, sliding out further between his open lips.

Your eyes cracked open to see Jungkook’s lashes flutter, his hot moan warming your lips.

“F… Fuck…”

Your tongue retreated.

Exhaled, giving it the weight that made it drift over his neck and chin. He sucked in a sharp inhale, opening his eyes too. A stand-off. His thighs pressed against your thighs. His erection was straining, even in his jeans. You traced your tongue around the perimeter of your lips, seeing him track the movement with bated breath, smiling slightly as his cock twitched.

He narrowed his eyes. “Can you not?”

You cocked one shoulder, smirking with the tip of your tongue at the edge of your teeth. “Why?”

The faintest of eye rolls. “You don’t suck my dick unless I shower first. And I haven’t showered yet.”

“That really sucks,” you hummed.

With just the correct about of intonation hat you had no sympathy. Especially since your hand was sliding over his ass to follow the line of his hip and then further down, hooking your thumb over the waistband of his jeans and molding your other four fingers around the unforgiving bulge. You heard him bite back a sound, pressing his biceps against you in warning, but you merely smiled, leaning forward to graze your lips against his cheek and jaw.

His cock pulsed strongly in your grip as you whispered into his ear.

Low and hot.

“That really sucks.”

Jungkook made a noise between a whimper and a growl.

But you didn’t care, pressing your breasts against his muscular chest. You knew he could feel your lack of bra through the layers of fabric, the confusion spreading over his facial features as you backed up. There was something there, his brain was working that out, but the swimsuit fabric was thin and your hard nipples were large enough for him to barely feel if he really flexed his pecs.

You unbuttoned his jeans.

He didn’t stop you because he would be crazy to.

The tension so tight that neither of you were breathing.

You grinned.

And yanked his underwear and jeans down at the same time.

You probably wouldn’t have tried this shit if it was someone else. Jungkook was habitual creature. The kind where he kept a small tube of hand sanitizer on him at all times, and you would catch him using it all the time, so absentmindedly that it seemed to have become second nature. He would do it after getting off the train. Walking aimlessly. Standing at your front door as you opened it, rubbing his hands together and directly looking at you, cocking an eyebrow.

The first time you noticed this action you thought he was being a creep before you realized it was hand sanitizer he was putting back into his pocket. He was not, in fact, imitating eccentric cartoon villain behavior. Had you in the first half, not gonna lie.

“What?”

It had been a pointed what at that time.

This time it was a sexually charged and gravelly, “What…?”

You squatted down and took his right hand, turning it palm up. Opened your mouth and drenched saliva all over his palm and fingers, the clean citrus scent of his hand sanitizer hitting your nose, hearing him hiss and feeling him tense. The tendons of his wrist stood out, black ink of his tattoos creeping out under the sleeve of the leather jacket. Your tongue lingered against the texture of his calluses along the top of his palm.

Guess he had been working out his frustrations.

“F-Fuck!”

You wrapped his spit-covered hand around his stiff length. Instinct and arousal and the slippery, tight, pleasurable sensation beat out any protest he had about what was happening, firmly and quickly jacking himself off right in front of your face. You calmly watched the glossy, swollen head pop in and out between his tightened fingers. All colors were desaturated due to the dark apartment. Didn’t matter. You had seen it enough times to know what he looked like.

You looked up.

Jungkook was looking down, gasping, the visible strain making his shoulders tremble. Jaw clenched, dark irises glassy, you’re so fucking pretty, shit, and you stuck out your tongue, enjoying the power. He shuddered, gripping himself tighter. Using your left hand, you hooked a thumb under the hem of your shirts, pushing them up, up, over your barely-covered breasts, revealing your hard nipples straining against the tiny black bikini top.

Those large brown eyes went wide, his lips parting.

“Oh, fuck…”

You used your right hand to shove the thin fabric away, scooping your breasts closer together to give him a good view, securing your left hand against your shoulder, easily holding the bunched-up fabric. Grinned, not hiding how pleased you were at his reaction. You lowered your right knee to the ground, stabilizing yourself.

And, now that your right hand was free, you reached forward and smacked his balls.

His black hair whipped in the air as his head snapped back, moaning sharply at the sudden impact. You slapped them again, and again. It was slightly slick from your own spit. Fast and firm. Not hard, since Jungkook hadn’t quite expressed the level he wanted yet, but then his head fell forward, erratic gasps and pupils blown out, squeezing the head of his cock hard, his entire body shaking.

“Harder,” he groaned out, depraved and deep.

You did as you were told, smacking harder and spreading out the hit over the entire area, keeping yourself exposed for him.

“Fuck… f-fuck…”

It was loud, lewd, and wet. His hand moving fast, and your fingertips repeatedly punishing his balls, his hips shaking in ecstasy. The scent of sex mixing with his crisp cologne, deliciously dirtying it. He turned his hand so it was palm up, knuckles down. You spat on his closed fingers and Jungkook moaned even louder, tipping his head back, sweat glistening along his throat.

Spit dripping down.

A bit of a mess, truly.

His head snapped back, fucked-out gaze, his voice rough and hoarse.

“Can… Can you breathe on me…?”

You leaned forward and parted your lips. Keeping eye contact, sliding your tongue out, and exhaled. Slow, heavy, saturated with warmth, leisurely drifting over his fast, tight grip on his hard cock. His eyes squeezed shut, drawn-out groan thundering in his chest. You did it again and his eyes opened, rolling back slightly, his lashes fluttering. You increased the pressure on his balls. The sharp smacks getting louder, wet thrusts, sensual sighs mixing with his desperate whine, and Jungkook tipped his hips down, fixated on watching himself cum onto your tongue and down your throat.

Hot, thick streaks.

You tilted your head back, drinking his orgasm down as you locked eyes with him, electric bliss simmering through your veins. His short black hair was damp with sweat. The strange feeling came back again, somewhere between a dream and reality, yet unmistakable clarity.

Fuck.

You were both sinking.

Shit.

-

“Don’t stop.”

To be honest, Jungkook didn’t like missionary for the sheer reason that she was too damn powerful in this position. Face too damn pretty. Tits too damn perfect. Legs on his shoulders letting him get too damn deep, soft thighs against his hard abs, pussy clenching around every centimeter of his length and not letting up, her hips smacking up every time he thrust down. Okay. It just felt too fucking good. It was a damn problem. He had to grind his teeth and fuck hard so he could slow down and not cum too fast. One would think the second orgasm would be difficult to reach, but one would be fucking wrong. His was rock-hard once she was naked and even harder when she dipped her fingers into her wet pussy to smear her juices over the throbbing head of his cock before he rolled the condom down.

“Are you a virgin or what – fuck!”

She was giving him that smug smirk of hers.

It both pissed him off and made him so damn happy.

A bitch faking it would be imitating shitty porn right now. That was why he never did missionary with any other women before her. It just made him limp. Better it hit it from the back and not have to look at their faces.

God, she was so fucking pretty.

“Always a virgin, only for you,” she snickered.

“I feel so fucking special,” Jungkook growled back, emphasizing each word by pounding her into the mattress.

He did, though.

Somewhere between dream and reality. That strange feeling as he watched her hands grip her pillows, her features softening as she fell into the pleasure, smacking her hips into his, their breathless moans blending together, primal harmony, and he knew he was well and truly fucked because instead of only drowning in the physical sensations of shoving his cock into that tight, wet hole, Jungkook was thinking about how he would wake up and bury his face in her hair the next morning, inhaling the scent of her sweet and smokey perfume, hoping other people could smell her on him, thinking about how lovely it would be to look over and see those eyes roaming over his face, every day and every night.

Well.

Shit.

She clenched around him particularly hard and Jungkook snapped out of his daydream.

Back into his lustful nightdream.

“Harder,” she hissed out, narrowing her eyes.

He was going to gasp, fuck you, but he was doing that already and there was no time to think because she sank lower into the mattress, angling her hips ever-so-slightly, and it was so deep, so good, so tight, losing his mind. Sweat dripping down his chest. He tucked his head back, trying not to get it all over her, bending his elbows and locking his muscles, driving his back and hips into his thrust, bending her in half and neither of them could breathe, closer, clawing up to the high, fast and intense and coiling tight in his chest, sinking down, down, deep down.

Airless.

His orgasm crashed into him so hard that his arms almost gave out.

“Fuck, Jungkook!”

He was sure that the noise that came out of him was not one he wanted to be self aware of. Something between a choked groan and whining moan, lost in the pulsating walls shivering against his jerking cock, wave after wave burning through him. The high seared him like electricity and the aftermath was layers of sparks building over his skin, tingling nerves and forgetting about anything else, suspended in this feeling.

Then his muscles screamed from fatigue and Jungkook realized his back was alarmingly sweaty.

“A… ah, hah…”

She plucked the white hand towel from her nightstand and flung it over his shoulder, falling back into the pillows and gasping.

He was in the middles of wiping his face before he realized that she didn’t have a towel there the first time he came over. But a towel was always there every other time he had showed up after. Either white or dark gray. Always fluffy. He looked down. Her eyes were closed, her pants slowing down to heavy breaths. She hadn’t been looking at him during his epiphany.

She smacked his arm for a second time before he realized she was trying to get his attention.

“Put my legs down, damn…”

“Oh, shit, right…”

It took him a moment to untangle himself. She went to the bathroom, as she usually did. Their clothes were all over the floor. Leather pants. Mesh shirt. The bathing suit top. Panties. His tank top. Black boxer briefs. His jacket and jeans were out there somewhere in the hall outside the bedroom. He noticed a pair of folded gray sweatpants and white shirt sitting on the corner of her room, randomly atop a low bookshelf. He had put them there a week ago. Just in case. She hadn’t moved it.

Jungkook breathed out.

He patted his temple.

I’m in idiot.

Then vigorously dried his hair.

The feeling came back when it was his turn to clean up in the bathroom and he saw his clear hair tie by her sink. A little tangled up from use, next to a pair of clear earplugs. He should probably check his phone and tell his friends that he was fine, but it was somewhere out there in his jeans and Jungkook wasn’t going to go hunting for it right now.

He went back to the bedroom.

Damn, she was so stunning even simply lying in bed. Her gray duvet was only covering her lower half, her forearm draped over her eyes. Amazing breasts. He took a moment to ogle them, perfect nipples and all.

“Stop staring at my tits.”

Well, shit.

She raised her arm and cocked her eyebrow at him.

Not saying anything, but the message came across quite clear.

Jungkook draped the hand towel over his shoulder and picked up the gray sweatpants from the bookshelf, yanking them over his legs before looking up again. Those shadowed eyes were watching him carefully. Surprise but not quite believing. He left the t-shirt and dropped the towel onto the floor, walking over to the other side of the bed and throwing himself down onto the mattress, making her body bounce.

Side eye.

“What?”

He shrugged.

“I’m tired.”

She frowned at him.

“Oh, yeah?”

He nodded.

“Yeah.”

He used his elbows to scoot himself to the pillows, resting his chin on the backs of his hands to look down at her. Her eyes followed the sleeve of tattoos on his right arm. Down and then up. Observing his facial expression carefully.

“Can’t stay too late?” she whispered. Somewhere between a taunt and weariness.

It broke his heart a little, hearing his own words said back to him. He moved one hand and lifted her forearm from her brows, seeing more of her face now. The mood lighting was still on. Points of color dancing over the ceiling above them. They reflected in her eyes even as she faced him.

Jungkook could smell her perfume, soft and sweet and not yet clinging to his skin.

“Can I stay the night?”

Her eyes narrowed. “And why would you wanna to that?”

He shrugged, realizing now that it had never been a no.

“Boyfriends stay over at their girlfriends’ places sometimes. Free breakfast.”

She rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed.

“The shit you pull, Jeon Jungkook.”

He leaned down. Had to fight for the kiss. Hands on wrists. His chest pressed against her breasts. When their lips touched, he could feel her smiling, so Jungkook smiled too and kissed her deeply.

--

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you