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heeliopheelia · 20 hours

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LACY (p. jay)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

includes: oral (f receiving), fingering, crying, insecurities, soft dom! jay, praising, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, hate comments

word count: 3.4k

synopsis: 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘫𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩

guts event masterlist ⋆♱✮♱⋆ main masterlist

Looking at your phone makes you want to throw up.

“out of literally everyone he pulls… that? gotta be a joke”

“jay deserves sm better”

“if that thing got a chance with him that means i’d be unstoppable”

“pls tell me this is a joke”

“girlie gotta have a god head game cuz ain’t no way lmfao”

As if you don’t feel bad enough about yourself already.

Ever since the photo of you and your boyfriend coming back from a date leaked to the internet, there’s been nothing but a ridiculous amount of hatred directed towards your clueless self.

In the morning Jay’s text saying please stay offline today baby was enough to make your stomach churn without even knowing what was actually happening. And against his words and your common sense, your fingers instantly went to the first better social media app on screen’s your homepage.

And so with every single comment put out on the internet, you feel your confidence and self-worth slowly crumbling down until they have eventually worn you out and you’re nothing but a sobbing mess ever since the morning. Your head hurts from all the crying yet the slightly masochistic part of yourself doesn’t let you tear your gaze away from the screen.

Maybe it’s because deep down you’ve always felt like you’re not good enough to be dating such a man as Jay, and the insecure thoughts he’s worked so hard to bury six feet underneath your feet have just resurfaced once again.

Knowing he’s surrounded by almost literal embodiments of the beauty standard on a daily basis and then having to come home to a plain nobody like you can’t be good for no one’s mental health, that’s for sure.

“Baby?”

The lump stretches your throat too painfully for you to make any other sound than the whimper you let out, and soon you hear Jay’s footsteps approaching your suffocatingly silent room.

“Are you there, love?”

You press your trembling lips together and nod your head, trying to force yourself to stop being so emotional for once. The last thing you want him to do is deal with… this, whatever your current state is.

“You’ve been reading the comments,” he points out quietly, but not with accusation – only worry. His heart squeezes with desperation to somehow make you feel better, yet you take his silence as a sign of disappointment in you.

And somehow you can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes, too swallowed by shame.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper eventually after a couple beats of silence. Your head drops lowly onto your bunched up knees. “I just had to see it myself.”

“Hey, no more twitter, no more instagram – no more,” Jay pleads softly as he carefully takes your phone out of your weak grasp and sets it on the bedside table, only to thread his fingers through yours and intertwine them together. “Don’t do this to yourself. Please, stop crying, beautiful. They don’t deserve your tears, hm?”

A sob rips out of your throat and echoes through the silent room, simultaneously breaking your boyfriend’s heart in two. “It’s just… I-,” you’re unable to finish your sentence with the hundreds of thoughts running around your mind, not giving you a moment of peace since hours ago.

“I know nothing I say will make you feel better now,” Jay whispers, shuffling closer on the bed until his chest is pressed against your shoulder and he envelops you in a protective embrace. He presses a warm kiss to your temple. “I love you. I hate to see you like that, honey.”

You nod your head, sniffling loudly and choking on your own sobs. “I love you too,” you cry quietly, moving your head to rest against his chest. “I just don’t feel good with myself right now.”

Jay hums. His hands blindly reach to your face to wipe your tears away, fingers gently caressing your damp face. “I know.” His words are muffled by your hair as he nuzzles his face in it. “I’m sorry.”

You can clearly hear the violent beating of his heart from your position and the insides of your stomach twist with sadness because you know well he’s blaming himself for everything. He promised to protect you at the beginning of your relationship, forever and always, and yet he’s failed at the one thing that should’ve been of the highest importance to him.

He felt conflicted about his job more times than he would like to admit. The constant restrictions, always having to watch his words and actions, the almost non-existent privacy – it was tough, annoying, but he could take it.

But he’s never hated being who he is more than he does right now. Seeing the person he loves the most, the person who holds his entire world, being in such a miserable state because of his job makes him feel just so helpless.

Swallowing his self-pity, Jay soothes you as gently as he can. His fingers thread through your hair, waiting patiently until your heavy sobs turn into hiccups and eventually small whimpers.

“I chose you, YN,” he finally says softly, hand pushing the hair sticking to your face away as the other one cups your cheek and brings you to look at him. “I chose you and I’d choose you over everyone else. It’s always going to be you. Always.”

You blink your lashes heavy with tears, cheeks stinging from the excessive amount of them that has dropped down your face. He nudges your cheek with his nose before pressing a gentle kiss to your brow bone. This tender gesture and his words finally allow the smallest smile to appear on your lips.

“There’s my pretty girl,” Jay giggled. His arms wrap tighter around you before he lifts you up and pulls you onto his lap. “You know, it’s okay if you don’t fully love yourself yet, I can do it for the both of us for now, baby. Please, believe me.”

You nod your head, now choked up for a whole different reason. You let him lean in and join your lips together in a sweet kiss. His knuckles caress your cheeks and chin as he plants a chain of pecks on your swollen mouth.

He tries to break the kiss but you don’t let him get too far away, pulling him back in by his neck and crashing your lips together again, this time more desperately. Jay’s fingers slip into the loopholes of your pants, bringing you closer and closer until there’s no space left between your chests.

The hushed I love you’s coming out from both of your mouths, his warm lips sucking a kiss after kiss on yours, his hand that drops down and sneaks underneath your top to linger over your skin – you’re becoming dizzy from the overwhelming love you’re being given.

“I’ve achieved everything because of you, love. I am who I am because of you,” he breathes out into your lips, forehead bumping against yours. One last time, he kisses the whatever is left of your tears away, then goes back to your hungry lips. “I’d give you the world if you asked me to. Let me take care of you, like you always do for me.”

With a strong move, he pulls you off his lap and lays you down on the plushy bedding. You shiver when the warmth of his body leaves you, only to catch your breath when he drops to the ground with the dull sound of his knees hitting the wooden floor.

His warm hands rub your thighs soothingly, palming your inflamed skin before his lips follow their lead and pepper small kisses all over them, gradually traveling higher. You can hardly breathe from the tension, impatiently waiting for his every next move, the exhaustion in your body making you feel everything tenfold.

The whisper you let out is strangled because of the prominent tingling in between your thighs. “I need you, Jay.”

With a hum of acknowledgement, he unzips then takes off your pants along with your underwear, discarding the clothes somewhere on the floor blindly. Breath hitches in your throat when he leans forward and finally buries his face between your legs, lips softly grazing your warmth.

His hands push on your inner thighs, holding your legs wide open as he leans down and presses a kiss to your pussy. A jolt shoots through your body when his teeth brush over your clit before he ducks his head down and engulfs it with his warm mouth entirely.

A shiver runs down your spine when his tongue runs flat against your clit, another but longer lick following right after. Your fingers clench on the duvet beneath you as you pant and whimper with every move that he makes.

Jay’s thumbs circle and press on the smooth skin on your thighs, he himself humming and grunting into your pussy as he slurps you up.

You’re perfect, so perfect in his eyes, yet the angle is still not satisfying to him, constantly searching for a better access to your quivering hole. Suddenly, his arms wrap around your knees and he swiftly lifts your legs further up, almost folding you in half as he sinks his mouth in your wetness again, groaning at how much better he can eat you out now. Properly.

A loud moan ripples from your throat and you jerk in his hold violently, not expecting him to just manhandle you like this. You’re just there, mind blank and eyes fluttering shut when Jay pushes his tongue into your hole, fucking and stretching you with it as best as he can. He’s being so loud with it, so nasty that you can’t help but surrender yourself to him completely, losing yourself to him over and over again.

Two of his warm fingers circle your weeping hole before letting them sink inside slowly, gently. With the addiction of his nose brushing over your clit, his tongue never halting its movements and now working in harmony with his fingers, you’re barely responsive.

You mewl and whine breathlessly, sweat starting to create a thin layer on your worked up body. Jay pulls away to take a breath and admire your blissed out face, long fingers curling up, and he ducks his head to cover your sensitive thighs with marks and bites.

“Aah, s’ good,” you slur out, arching your back off the bed slightly.

“Yeah? You like that, baby?” Jay asks, sucking one last hickey on your inner thigh before moving back to your needy cunt. You can only hum in agreement, the noise quickly turning into another string of moans and wails as you feel your approaching high.

Jay cranes his neck to get to you at the best angle, one that will help you reach your climax the fastest. He didn’t even realize when his now hard cock started rutting against the bed slowly, only focused on you and you only, restraining his own pleasure.

You open your mouth to warn him of your incoming release but before you can do that, Jay speeds up the movement of his fingers and has you coming within a second, a loud cry of his name on your lips serving as honey for his ears.

He drags his face away from your glistening pussy to take a look at your face.

You’re so beautiful, so perfect, soft and all his.

“My prettiest,” he murmurs, planting a bunch of kisses against your thighs and stomach before lifting himself on his arms and crawling to get you to face him, laying breathlessly beneath him.

He lowers himself to kiss you right on the lips, the slick from his face smearing against yours slightly but you’re too far gone to pay it any mind.

“I love you,” is all you’re able to choke out in a whisper. Jay smiles and brushes his nose against yours, kissing you once, then twice and thrice before letting you fill your lungs again.

“I love you more.”

And as much as you want to protest at first, you realize that he might be actually right. There’s no doubt of your feelings or devotion to him, you gave him your entire heart a long time ago, entrusted him with all you are and had enough faith in him to never make you regret your decision.

But no one loves like Jay does. His love is pure and raw, coming from the depth of his heart and overshadowing all other feelings you’ve ever harbored to another man.

That’s how you also know that no matter anything you’ll always end up together, overcome everything.

His gentle hands grab the bottom of the t-shirt you’re wearing, his actually now that he takes a better look at it, then lifts it up, revealing your perky breasts to him. He plants kisses against them, simultaneously unzipping his pants and kicking them down to the floor. His boxers are discarded next and you help him unbutton his shirt with your shaky fingers.

“Make me yours,” you say into his lips once you’re done with that, hand pressed against his cheek.

Your words are enough to send Jay’s patience out the window, and he’s lifting your leg to hook it over his waist before sinking his hard cock inside you, your walls instantly sucking him in to the hilt. He groans at the warmth that engulfs him, squeezing him so tightly he can barely move.

Your heart pounds in your chest, blood rushing to your cheeks at the intimacy, his eyes boring into you lovingly. Because that’s what he is. Utterly, hopelessly lovesick.

His chest heaves above yours for a moment as he lets you adjust and relax around him before settling for a slower and deep pace. Your breaths get ragged quickly, listening to the filthy squelching whenever he pulls out of you only to sink in further each time.

“See, baby? It’s all good now,” he rasps, sweaty hair beginning to cling to his forehead because of the stuffiness in your bedroom. “You don’t need anyone else. Only me. I’ll take care of you.”

“Only you,” you repeat after him, watching his eyes sparkle and eyebrows furrow.

He lets out a chuckle, out of breath. “Good girl.”

His hold on you tightens as he fucks into you, his large hand slipping to the back of your head and pressing your face to his neck. His thrusts grow faster, more erratic and messy, and the only thing you’re able to do at the moment is whine desperately into his skin and wrap your other leg over his hips, thighs clenching his sides even tighter.

You feel better. You feel heavenly. You feel loved.

He bullies his way so deep inside you that you feel as if on the verge of blacking out. It’s so good. You’re pretty sure you’re going to leave a drool stain on your boyfriend’s toned shoulder once you pull away from there as you’re just unable to close your mouth for a second, too fucked out to have any control over it now.

“Can I go a little faster, sweetheart?” Jay asks.

You whine into the junction of his neck. “Mhm.”

And so he does, his touch growing in intensity as well. He lets go of your neck and your head falls back onto the pillows and you finally get to look at his face, expression so soft and tender, and a stark contrast to the way he fucks you.

Your stomach sets ablaze with every loud clap of his hips against yours, his precum making a mess on your thighs.

“Fucking hell,” he moans lowly, not being able to get enough of the doe-eyed look you’re giving him. He didn’t know it was possible, but he thinks he loves you even a little more than yesterday.

The sloppy sound of your wet skin colliding with his ricochets off of your bedroom’s walls and your eyes water again – this reason completely contrasting to the earlier heartbreak. Jay is here to kiss all of your tears away, his warm lips tracing your cheeks and collecting every salty droplet that falls on your skin.

You throw your head back, nails digging into his shoulder blades. And then he reaches down with the one hand that’s not holding you, pressing his fingers on your swollen clit and rubbing circles on it, making you grow lightheaded again.

His never ceasing thrusts keep hitting your g-spot, without even giving you a second to breathe.

“J-Jay,” you whimper, voice wet and small, and he knows exactly what you want to communicate to him.

You fall apart in his arms as your orgasm hits your sensitive pussy even harder this time, making you squirt with a shallow gasp for air. You feel completely owned by him at the moment.

Jay’s eyes roll to the back of his skull for a hot minute, his cock aching and twitching as your walls spasm and squeeze him mercilessly. He buries his face in your neck now, nibbling under your ears and panting heavily against your skin.

Jay cums hard, probably harder than he ever has before – all because he knows he’s fucked you so good you can’t stop shaking in his arms. His own thighs begin to quiver a little as he ruts his emptying cock into your warm pussy, filling you up so nicely.

It’s the choked up wail that leaves your throat that spurs him into pushing more of his throbbing length into your sensitive self. His warm cum fills you to the brim, seeping slowly onto your thighs, yet he keeps snapping his hips against you slowly. “That’s it. Take it, baby. Take it all.”

Your lips part and when he pulls away from your neck, he immediately slides his tongue against yours. His kisses are sloppy and hot and wet but that only pushes you even further into the state of bliss, completely losing your mind for the man above you.

Your back is arched, making you press your chest into his forcefully as you jolt and twitch from overstimulation as he pulls out his soft cock out of you carefully.

Jay’s lips press to your temple warmly with a soothing intention. You try to catch your breath, body sweaty and clammy just like your hair. Yet you look just as pretty as ever to him. His prettiest girl.

He collapses onto the bed next to you and lets you cling to him for as long as you want to, holding you tightly to his chest and drowning you in praises and compliments. It’s only when he notices that your eyelids are growing heavy that he gently pulls you away and up from the bed, steadying your wobbly self on the rug beside your bed.

You look at him in confusion, eyes misty and tired and he can’t help but giggle and kiss you one more time. “We should probably take a shower first,” he flicks your nose when you scrunch it up slightly but then you nod your head.

When you start walking into the direction of the bathroom, goosebumps spiking your skin despite the hot temperature in the room, you turn around and frown when you notice that Jay has stayed behind you.

“You’re not coming, love?” You ask but he shakes his head.

“You go first, baby. I’ll be right there in a second.” He nods his head to the ruined bedding. “Gotta change the sheets first.”

You flush as you take in the mess you’ve both made. “Right,” you mumble and then disappear behind the door.

When you’re both showered and back in the bed together, you’re propping yourself on your elbows, trying to reach the switch of the lamp on the bedside table. You don’t get far when Jay’s arm wraps itself across your torso and brings you back down, right into his chest.

“Stay,” he mumbles, nuzzling his face in your hair.

You giggle quietly but give in and lay comfortably, half on the bed and half on your boyfriend. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Jay hums lowly. “I mean forever. Stay with me forever.”

You look at him, eyes slightly widening despite how tired you are, and his words take your breath away when you realize he’s dead serious. You’re at a loss of words, looking at the man by your side, stunned, yet he only smiles lazily and brings your hand to his lips to press his warm lips against your knuckles.

“Marry me.”

Lacy, oh, Lacy, I just loathe you lately

And I despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you

Yeah, I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you

taglist: @luvkpopp @yannew @hoonxclsvly @jongseongslvr @beomgyusonlywife @starggukies @koizekomi @ineedsomezzz @starl1ghtsinthedark @enhastolemyheart @seokseokjinkim @parksunghoonsgf @skzenhalove @somekpopshiteu97 @enhypens-hoe @alpha-mommy69 @jwnzlvr @wondipity

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @dilucsleftshoelace @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @mon2sunjinsuver @goreconsumer @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt @criminalyun @kissestojapan

note: i actually really like how it turned out xx

#carly's 2k event ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen hard hours #park jay x reader #jay x reader smut #jay x reader #park jay imagines #park jay smut #enhypen jay imagines #enhypen jay x reader #enhypen jay smut #jay hard hours

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jeneveuxrein · 21 hours

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attention (TWICE Nayeon)

word count: 6.1K

(she's been on my radar since the killing voice medley, and well, yeah, enjoy!)

-- -- --

You’re seething, forcing the amber liquid down, watching the people mingle. You should introduce yourself to some because networking at events like this always gives you the chance to meet the next up and coming.

But not tonight.

You don’t even want to be here. You weren’t on the original guest list, but with last minute changes and someone’s wife suddenly going into labor, your boss forced you to attend.

Maybe the proper term is chaperone.

All you wanted to do tonight was spend some time with this woman you’ve been casually seeing. Nothing serious, nothing committal, just dinner and drinks that had the potential of ending together in a bed. You had been dragging it out, and you think it’s warranted. She makes it obvious she’s interested.

But with how this evening was looking, you’ll be spending the night with someone else.

That someone is across the room, draped over some man you’re more than likely going to have to do damage control. She’s an idol after all, and rumors will spread like a wildfire about her being linked to someone who’s nowhere near her caliber.

She catches you staring, sending a sly smirk as she leans into whatever-his-face is saying. A little too close for the company’s taste and a shit ton too much for your sake.

“Dear fuck,” You mumble, shaking your head before standing.

You don’t know what compels you to walk through the crowd, nodding politely at those that wave, but there you are, less than a meter away from where she’s seated.

“Nayeon,” You say coolly. The man quickly separates himself, going as far away from the woman in question. “Time to go. You have an early day tomorrow.”

Nayeon tilts her head, a questioning glint in her eye because she, out of all of the members, knows her schedule. She has nothing for tomorrow, except maybe rest and recovery because this is her fault you’re here.

Well, maybe you should backtrack. It’s technically your fault because if you hadn’t mentioned to Sana and Momo the plans you originally had, you wouldn’t be at some event against your will. It was an innocent question on how you were going to spend the weekend, the only mistake was that you said too much that they went running to their unnie.

“Okay,” Nayeon says slowly, standing before bidding farewell to the people at the table. You wait for her, obviously, because that’s what you’re supposed to do. “Shall we?” She asks as she turns to face you.

You nod, stepping side before bowing politely. You’ll have to send a message to the media team to stop any photos releasing of Nayeon and the man, but that could wait. There were more pressing matters that needed your attention.

It isn’t until you’re inside your car that she says something that ticks you off, “So no date with Suji-unnie tonight?”

You shake your head, composing yourself because it’s a question she knows the answer to. “Nope, duty calls. Had to be here.”

“How unfortunate,” Nayeon says casually as if she had no part in how your night turned out, slouching in the passenger seat as you shift the car into drive. “Yours or mine? ” She asks, looking out the window. Adding, “Momo’s in Japan.”

“Mine,” You answer simply, turning onto the street.

-- --

You should’ve seen it coming, but you let it happen.

The company and management would have you barred from working with anyone in the industry if they ever found out. You reasoned that was why by the time things unfolded, it was out of your control.

How it started was subtle, nothing too out of the ordinary to draw attention to her mostly. She flirted with you, commenting on your outfits about how it looked good on you and you, being you, would return the sentiment. It wasn’t anything explicit, just a polite acknowledgement of her looking great, something she heard daily from the girls and other people on the team.

She lingered to walk with you whether it was crowded or not, it didn’t matter. She was right by your side, and the times where fans were around, she’d be especially close that you had no other choice to wrap your arm around her, shielding her from people who desperately wanted her attention. You missed the snickers from the girls, rolling their eyes because they knew what she was up to, while you were just doing your job.

Then she texted you on free days, asking if you wanted to do something. Anything from getting food at hole-in-the-wall restaurants she learned about from Chaeyoung to intimate concerts of artists in the industry. You tried to decline, advising her to go with one of the female managers so it wouldn’t look suspicious to the public eye, but she was adamant about going with you. Some of the girls would join from time to time, but the majority of the time, it was just you two.

Again, you thought nothing of it. You were the closest to her, so no one batted an eye when she put in the group chat when something was planned.

That was just how your relationship was with her for five years since the group debuted.

Until one night.

You were working late, going over the travel plans for the girls’ encore tour, tucked away in your office. A short four-city stint in the United States that would be a bit of a hustle for them, but you knew they could do it.

There were a soft two knocks, scaring you because you thought everyone had already left. You remembered the way you said come in, raspy and tired, when the door opened slightly, the half of Nayeon’s face peeking through the crevice.

You smiled immediately, sitting straight, nodding as she stepped inside. You took note of her outfit. Something comfortable since they had dance rehearsals for the better part of the day, dark sweats and a heather grey cropped hoodie that showed a sliver of her skin, peeking from underneath.

You watched Nayeon grow into a beautiful woman. Sexy too, but you slapped yourself every single time you thought of her like that. There had to be some professional line drawn somewhere. Although it seemed that metaphorical line had been blurred, crossed, over the past few months.

She was more affectionate, playing with your fingers in the car, gently touching your arm wherever you walked. She pressed into your side more, even when there were no people around. She hugged you a bit longer than the others, not like you were counting the seconds.

You stood to meet her on the couch, asking if she was alright since she was vocal earlier in the day she wanted to go home to sleep. She explained that she had finished practicing with the dance instructor. You admired how hard she worked, which for what it was worth, you thought she did well during rehearsals.

“And I saw your office light on as I was leaving, thought I’d say goodbye,” Nayeon rested her head on your outstretched arm. It wasn’t out of the norm, something she did quite frequently in front of everyone.

“You should rest,” You urged, softly squeezing her shoulder as she snuggled into you. “You did great today.”

Nayeon looked up at you, gaze briefly shifting to your lips before meeting your eyes, “Really?”

You hadn’t realized it before, but as she stared at you, you could see how much she needed the affirmation, the reassurance, the praise, from you.

You cleared your throat, looking away because it suddenly felt hot in your office. With Nayeon this close, her perfume faint, it had you dizzy. You mumbled a shy yeah.

You knew the moment her hand touched your thigh, it was over. Everything you worked for, investing time and resources to make sure the girls you managed were successful, would be tossed down the drain because the undeniable tension that had been building over the past however long at this point broke.

The thing was, you didn’t know about it until that moment.

You weren’t sure who kissed who first, and it didn’t matter. All you knew was she was on top, your arms pulling her closer as your lips met in a heated kiss, swallowing each other’s moans.

Something clicked inside of you, like this was always supposed to happen. Every message, every call, every playful push, every stolen glance, every single thing led to this.

“Nayeon,” You tore yourself apart, hyper aware of the small whine leaving her mouth as you tried to get some grip on the situation. “What’re we doing? We can’t do this.”

Her eyes narrowed, glaring, and you knew that whatever resolve you had would be taken from you by her whether you liked it or not. She was never one to be challenged, always exceeding whatever expectation was placed on her.

“And why not?” Her voice was steady, but her body was not. She dropped to her knees in between your legs. All the thoughts you pushed deep down inside you came rushing to the surface, dismantling the walls you put up for her to break it so easily. “You don’t think I’m pretty?” Her hands were on the waistband of your slacks, trailing along, stopping when she reached the button.

You didn’t have the words, no sentence to form as she slowly, oh so slowly, pulled the zipper down. You nearly choked once she placed her hand over your cock, palming with the softest pressure.

“Your body seems to think so,” She teased, slipping her hand underneath the fabric, wrapping around your cock.

That very thin thread of control you snapped, leaning forward to pull back onto your lap. “That’s a lot to assume,” You quipped, hands gripping her waist firmly.

“Really?” She rolled her hips over you, catching the smirk on her face as your eyes closed. “I think that you’ve always wanted me as much as I wanted you, which I—”

Impulsively, you brought your lips to hers, a searing kiss that she met with the same enthusiasm. You murmured a shut up before nipping her bottom lip, sucking lightly that her body shuddered against you.

You didn’t remember much else from that night.

That was a lie because that was the night she confessed it all. It didn’t help that she somehow slipped all her clothes off and she sunk your cock inside one smooth motion, testing your control once again because you could’ve exploded the moment you felt her warmth wrapped around you.

You remembered it vividly, clearly, as you watched her move on top of you. It was slow, intentional with every drop of her body, like she was showing you what you had been missing. It was hot, tight, and you couldn’t stop the whimper out of your mouth when she started whispering things—nasty, filthy things that you would have never guessed were in her vocabulary.

Nayeon bit your ear lobe, murmuring how good you felt, how she got so wet whenever she saw you. The soft moan she let out. The dazed, lust-filled expression with each roll of her hips. You couldn’t stop the noises you made, the groans, the grunts, the fuck every time her pussy tightened.

There was a brief sense of clarity when your stomach tightened, signaling you were close. You couldn’t exactly cum inside her because one, you stupidly (blindly) forgot to put a condom on, and two, you didn’t keep track of her health records (that wasn’t one of your responsibilities among everything else), so getting an idol pregnant wasn’t exactly on your list.

She knew you were close the second your hips thrusted up, stealing a breathy moan. You were content lifting her off you to cum anywhere else that wasn’t inside her.

However, Nayeon was not.

She made it perfectly clear when she wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you against her as she quickened her pace. You tried, maybe not that much, to get her off you before you met your impending end, but it was futile when she kissed your cheek, affectionately, lovingly, hot breath against your skin that she wanted you to claim her in a way no one else ever had.

Air left your lungs as you came, releasing a lot inside of her, causing her own orgasm that felt like yours went on forever. She muffled her scream, biting into your neck as her body trembled.

You wanted to believe it was a one-time thing, a mishap, a lapse in judgment because it was still your fucking job on the line.

It was not a one-time thing. You couldn’t even count it as a two-time thing, or three, or four. It just kept happening. You couldn’t exactly avoid her, you literally worked for her.

No one would think you favored her because they all knew you did, but they understood why. No one could stop Nayeon from being near you because she would throw a fit. Any crisis she had, you were the main point of contact because she only listened to you.

Even if you had some kind of control over her, she had the most control over you.

Then after some time of figuring out how you and Nayeon could keep whatever this under wraps—nothing was ‘figured out’ as you wouldn’t really be talking if you were alone together—a mutual colleague introduced you to Bae Suji.

You went on one date with Suji, or Suzy, as she sometimes preferred. How any of the girls found out was beyond you, but if you had to wager, it would’ve been Jeongyeon or Sana (Nayeon later did say it was the latter because her friend saw you).

It didn’t matter who found out because managers are allowed to have lives outside of their work, but this particular part of your life wouldn’t be allowed by the woman you spent a good chunk of time with, on- and off-the-clock.

To say Nayeon was upset would be an understatement. Sure, she was upset, but she was livid. You didn’t see her that night, but she was at your door the next morning. She did what she always did, easily seducing you before demanding an explanation while you were deep inside her.

It wasn’t healthy by any means, but it’s not like either of you cared. It was toxic at best, but it was debauchery at its absolute worst, using sex as a loaded gun to get whatever you wanted from each other.

“You know we can’t keep doing this,” You grunted as you thrusted inside her, pausing as her pussy tightened.

“Yet here you fucking are, still balls deep inside of me,” Nayeon said lowly, tugging you so you towered over her. “You aren’t fucking her so why did you even go out with her?”

You didn’t bother responding, instead you wrapped a firm hand around her neck, squeezing enough to shut her up because at that point, she was pissing you off.

You would admit that that morning was the first time you let her get the best of you. You typically weren’t aggressive with her. You might’ve been rough less than a handful of times, but never like that.

What you couldn’t predict was how she’d react. She could have done anything. Hit you. Slap you. Push you off.

She didn’t.

It spurred her on more than anything. By the way her pussy tightened. By the way it felt wetter. By the way she tried to make a sound, but couldn’t because of the hold around her.

Your hand relaxed, listening to her violently gasp as the air entered her body. You broke for a moment, searching for any sign of discomfort, uneasiness, because at the end of the day—you wouldn’t admit this to her—you loved her. You were in love with her, stupidly falling for her whether you wanted to or not. You believed she felt the same, but those kinds of things weren’t a topic of discussion.

“Baby,” You whispered, still buried inside of her, but you weren’t moving. “I’m sor—”

Nayeon shook her head, sitting up as you hissed once the cool air hit your cock. She gave you a quick peck before turning onto her stomach, arching her back. Pushing herself up on her hands, she shook her hips side to side, head slightly turned, “Fuck me, daddy.”

A new kink was unlocked that night among a myriad of emotions you weren’t prepared for. One thing you were prepared for was to fuck her like you owned her.

Maybe you did, but she owned you too.

-- --

You open your front door, stepping aside for Nayeon to walk through. Tossing the keys on the side table, the door shuts as you take off your shoes. She’s right next to you, arms crossed behind her back, leaning against the wall. She’s waiting for the reaction you give whenever she pisses you off. She does what she does to rile you up, if that isn’t obvious.

You sigh, shaking your head, standing in front of Nayeon. Her eyes look up, but your gentle hand cups her chin, tilting her head back. When you meet her gaze, there’s something off with her.

You can read her like a book, very familiar with her moods. Though, this time, you see—and feel—the walls up, something unfamiliar to you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask softly, searching her face for anything to give her away. Her expression remains neutral, shrugging indifferently. “Something’s wrong.”

Nayeon pulls away, averting her gaze, “Nothing’s wrong.” Pause. “So are we going to fuck or what? Isn’t that why we’re here?”

“Not with that attitude,” You say sternly, reaching for her arms behind her back. You bring them around, struggling a bit. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“There is no fucking problem. If you want to talk about thoughts and feelings, I’m going to pass,” She breaks away, and you let her. “I’ll call Jihyo or Jeongyeon to pick me up.” She turns to walk away, but you reach out quickly, hand wrapping onto her forearm to pull her back.

Nayeon lets out a small oomph against your chest, glaring at you, unbothered by her attitude (you’ve dealt with worse), “Tell me what the fuck is wrong right now.”

“Or what?” Nayeon huffs, hands on your chest in a feeble attempt to get away from you.

The movement brings your bodies closer, and accidentally, maybe purposely, she grounds her pelvis against you. It’s with the lightest pressure, but it’s enough for your cock to stir, awakening from her heated stare. You notice the way her breath hitches, body shivering as you pull her closer.

“Brat,” You murmur, dropping your head to capture her lips with your teeth. She moans softly when you start sucking. Her hands move to interlace behind your neck. You didn’t want to use sex to get it out of her, but she’s being defiant. “Do you get off on making me mad?”

“Not intentionally, of course.” You feel her smile form, the upward curve of her lips as you slide your tongue in. She sighs dreamily into the kiss, dropping her weight to lean against the wall. You fall into her, practically pinning her. “Is someone going to put me in my place?”

It’s a rhetorical question because there has only been one person to put her in her place.

You.

This evening could have played out in two ways. The first, being the doting lover you’re familiar with, praising her softly like a secret only between you and her, taking your time to draw out every moan and sigh against your lips. The second, the one you’re leaning towards, being the indifferent, apathetic lover, uncaring of if she cums, fucking her until she begs for you, pussy deliciously tight to force you to breed her, claim her, because she’s yours.

“Why not that tool you were all over at the party?” The question catches her off guard, body tensing at the thought that you caught her. She wanted you to catch her though, she has always wanted to be wanted by you. “You knew I was watching across the room,” Pulling away as you tower over her.

“It wasn’t like that,” Nayeon rushes out, the excuse you’ve heard multiple times before. The false panic in her eyes means she knew exactly what she was doing to get a reaction out of you. “We were just talking.”

“I don’t believe that,” You click your tongue, the image of her with someone else like that sparks a possessive desire. “That wasn’t very good of you, baby.” Void of any affection associated with the pet name. Under the dim light of your hallway, you see her eyes dilate and her breathing picks up. She wants you and fuck do you want her too. “Room. Now.”

Nayeon nods obediently. You reward her with a soft, chaste kiss. She tries her best to keep your lips together, but you tap her hip twice and she pulls away. “Daddy.” She whines, pouting in hopes it’ll get her more than you’re giving. You thought she’d last longer before using her nickname for you.

“Don’t be a brat,” Your eyes narrow, challenging her because if she wants to act out even more, you’d just have to punish her. “Go to the room now.” Nayeon’s eyes widen at your tone, nodding once before walking down the hallway.

You tilt your head side-to-side, stretching the muscles before making a quick stop in the kitchen. You know you’ll both be exhausted whenever you finish, so you might as well at least have water nearby. You’ll find the energy to make her food in the morning, or there’s always takeaway. With two water bottles in hand, you kick your room door open to Nayeon perched on the edge of your bed, topless, only leaving her red lace bottoms, dress tossed haphazardly on the chair.

“For later, okay?” Momentarily breaking out of character because you still care for her, and her well-being will always be your top priority. She sends you a grateful smile before you place the bottles on the dresser. When you meet her on the bed, she moves to swing her leg over yours, but you shake your head. “Not yet, baby. You weren’t very good back there.”

“But, but,” Nayeon’s voice trembles, biting her lip. “I didn’t mean it!”

“Then why did you act out? Do I not give you what you want?” You gently push Nayeon off to her original position.

“You do!” She says desperately, nodding her head.

“Then why? Why him?” You taunt, deciding how far you want to go with her tonight. Something’s still wrong, and you need to know what. You want the reason, the confession, because she doesn’t keep secrets from you. You see the wheels turning, unsure if whatever she has to say would matter. It does matter to you. “So what is it?”

“Because I wanted your attention,” Nayeon confesses before she jumps on you, landing perfectly on your already hard cock. She moans at the contact, grinding slightly before your hands find themselves on her hips, guiding her movement. “I wanted you to remind me who I belong to.”

“And who’s that?” You say lazily, tongue trailing against her lower lip before dipping inside, swirling that she grounds harder.

“You,” Voice dropping low, seductively adding, “Daddy.”

You have to still make her pay her retribution. She’s almost there, telling you the real reason, and you’ll get it out of her. You easily lift her body off yours, smirking at the whine and huff when you pull away as you lay her on your stomach against your lap. “I still have to punish you, baby.” You rest your hand on her back, ghosting over her skin until you reach her low back.

“But daddy,” Nayeon huffs, raising her hips in a feeble attempt to get your hand where she wants. “It didn’t mean anything,” She repeats, squirming on your lap.

Your hand goes lower, hovering over her buttcheek, “It meant something to me,” You say pensively. Curious, prodding, “Is that why you wanted me to fill in instead of Seoyeon-unnie? You didn’t want me to go on my date.”

You don’t hear a response. You swiftly bring your hand down to her bottom, a resounding smack echoes through the room. “Well?”

Silence again, which would result in another slap to the other cheek. She muffled a moan into the bedsheets, refusing to budge.

Bingo.

Her pride is her biggest downfall, ego constantly needing to be stroked. She loves the attention and adoration from fans, thriving off the praise, knowing that it’s all for her. She would rather suffer through the pain than have to admit she was jealous.

The center of attention, the one in the limelight, spotlight shining on her and only her. She craves that from you, to be the center of your world, but ever since Suji came into the picture, she’s scared that there might be someone else, crashing like a meteor on unstable ground she’s never had.

You continue with the slaps, easing the sting with light rubs. You know she’s soaked, the small dark circle forming on her underwear. You’re not faring any better, cock tenting against the fabric.

After the seventh hit, Nayeon moans, body shaking wantonly in frustration. “Fuck fuck, please, please.”

“Tell me the truth.” Coercion isn’t the best method, manipulative by any definition, but you had no other choice.

“Fine, fine.” You relent, hand halting mid-air. “I didn’t want you to go. You’re supposed to be mine,” She cries, breath uneven as she tries to compose herself.

Your hand drops. Her body flinches when she feels it against her skin, but continues to wait, anticipating your next move. Your chest squeezes at the confession because she’s never been this vulnerable, open, willing to express her feelings for you.

You give in, to her, to this, the urge to suddenly show her who owns you becomes too great. You pull her up, laying her on the bed as you fall in between her legs.

“Baby,” You murmur, leaning forward to brush your lips against her ear, “You’re being so good. I am yours,” Her body shivers, hips rolling up into nothing as she seeks some kind of friction. “I’m yours,” You repeat like a mantra, a reminder of what you’ve always said. “You deserve a reward, okay?”

Nayeon shakes her head, eyes shooting open, wild with want and desire. “I can’t wait, daddy.” She reaches for your shirt, ripping the buttons, before stopping at your belt. “Inside me, please. I need to feel you.”

You do nothing to stop her, hands swiftly moving to unbuckle your belt and slipping your cock out of your briefs. You groan when she wraps around your length, stroking lightly. She aims the tip at her opening, against the lace, uncontrollably moaning and panting.

“Go ahead,” You goad, eyes fixated on your cock rubbing over her. The wetness seeps on you, mouth watering at the sight. You watch as she moves her underwear to the side, lining up your cock perfectly, the warmth and wetness surrounding you has you seeing stars.

“I’m so wet, daddy,” Nayeon moans loudly, scooting closer to take more of you in. “All for you—fuck.”

You couldn’t help yourself. She felt too good, too wet, and the tightness suffocates you the second you snap your hips forward, burying your cock to the hilt inside her. The sudden stretch has her head snapping back, screaming into the air.

“You’re such a slut, always ready for my cock,” You choke out, hands settling on her hips before drawing backwards. Her body squirms, chasing after the sensation of being filled. “So needy tonight, baby.”

“Please, please,” Nayeon begs, doing everything she can to get all of you back inside her. She wants you, wants you so no one else can have you, desperate for the feeling you give her. She thrusts her hips down, sucking you in unexpectedly, that you nearly collapse on top of her. Her arms wrap around you, nails digging into your skin when your length rubs along her walls. “Fuck me. You own me.”

“Mine?” You’re able to catch a breath, holding on to the control you’re trying to keep.

“Yours.”

It snaps, breaking the moment she says the word, possessing you to pull back before sliding back in. You lose yourself inside her, each moan and breathy sigh, as you set a steady pace. It’s a beautiful sensation for Nayeon’s pussy hugging your cock perfectly, warm, wet, tight—just for you.

Her nails trail down, scratching your back enough that you’ll see the damage later. The pain turns you on, snapping your hips, driving your cock through. You nearly falter when your eyes meet hers. It’s akin to love, a word that has been dangerously sitting on the tip of your tongue these past few months.

“I—fuck,” You stutter out. You can’t tell her how you feel. You can’t. You shouldn’t. You won’t.

“I love you.”

You swear you misheard her. The three words forming the sentence that has you over the moon. She says it again, softly, affectionately, because she means it.

“You love me?” You cease your movements, cock bottoming out inside of her. The snugness of her pussy warms your cock as you wait. She doesn’t hesitate, saying it again and again before pulling your lips to hers.

“I love you,” Nayeon mumbles, tongue running along your bottom lip.

“Fuck,” You pull away, hips drawing back before flipping her body over. She raises her hips, the beautiful arch in her back. You tear the lacy garment off, making a silent promise you’ll buy her another later. You’ll buy her whatever she wants. “I love you,” You whisper before sinking in, missing the way her eyes roll back.

You couldn’t control what happened next as the words triggered her orgasm. Her pussy pulls you in, suffocating you so you wouldn’t leave—not like you had anywhere to go. You’d lose yourself inside her ten times out of ten.

“Fuck daddy, I’m cumming,” Nayeon screams, panting as her body shudders, pussy tightening and relaxing rhythmically as you groan. You feel the wetness coat your upper thighs, guttural moaning against her hair. “Come inside me, please. I’m yours, yours, oh shit—”

Your stomach tightens, snapping at the way her ass cheeks ripple against your pelvis, moving uncontrollably as she coaxes your orgasm. Your hands grip her muscles, hips erratically thrusting into her as your release floods her, painting every crevice inside her.

Nayeon leans her head back, enough for you to kiss her forehead. Her hands find yours, interlacing them sweetly as you both try to catch your breath.

You’re still hard, and you’re feeling particularly giving. She can handle whatever you throw at you, so you gently remove one of your hands from hers, trailing slowly to the apex of her thighs. Her breathing hitches, “What’re you doing?”

“Another,” You command as you rub through her folds, finding her clit.

“Wait—wait shit,” The contact catches her by surprise, her body folding forward as you continue your onslaught.

“Good girl,” You murmur, watching as her hips move in slow figure eights with your cock still inside. Her pussy constricts, finding every angle to hit her favorite spot. And when she does, she mewls and pants. “You feel so fucking good, baby.”

Nayeon turns her head, locking eyes with you as she moves faster along your length. Your fingers aren’t idle, applying heavy pressure that has her going crazy, unsure with what to do with the pleasure flowing through her body. You mouth cum and flicking like a switch, she gushes all over you, forcing you to leave her warmth.

“Fuck daddy,” Nayeon screams, voice hoarse as you watch her body convulse, back arching and flexing as she squirts more fluid than you’d ever seen. “I need you, please. Something, anything—oh shit!” Your fingers enter her swiftly, massaging her inner muscles as it just gets wetter, drenching your skin and bedsheets.

“Tell me who owns this pussy,” You say lowly, eyes fixated on the way her butt muscles ripple with every movement of your fingers.

“You,” She repeats your name over and over, pussy sucking you as she tightens deliciously around them. “God, fuck, you, sir, only you.”

You replace your fingers with your cock, aiming at her opening before sinking in once again. Her fingers ball into fists, wrinkling the bed sheets as you nearly go feral on her body. She could take it. She wants you like this, crazy, addicted, in love that no one else could fuck her. She needs to feel how much you want her. She only needs you.

“So easy,” You swing a hand back, slapping each cheek with precision. “All you need is my cock, right?”

“Yes, yes, only yours daddy,” Nayeon nods, easily agreeing to whatever you say. You could call her every name in the book, and she’d comply. She’s your little fucktoy that gets your cock stuffed inside her whenever you want.

You lose it once Nayeon lets out a high-pitched squeal. The orgasm crashes through your body, hips stuttering forcefully into hers as you fill her again, unabashedly rolling your hips to hear her breath staccato.

Every nerve on your body buzzes, stimulated by Nayeon’s walls pulsing to milk you for all that you have. It hits overstimulation, sucking the breath from you as you regretfully pull out. She whines at the loss of contact, but you lean forward, sweetly kissing her buttcheek, nipping at the skin that she squirms.

“Ticklish?” You tease, voice light and relaxed. The exhaustion slowly sets in your bones.

“You know I am,” Nayeon huffs, hips dropping, limbs spread limply.

You’re still a sick human, and you want to see the result of your activities. You nudge Nayeon’s leg, easily responsive as they spread a little. You bite your tongue at the sight of your essence dribbling out of her swollen lips. It’s hot, filthy to see you all over her. You wish you had a phone nearby to snapshot this into memory, but your mind drifts off to recreating it at a later date.

You yawn, collapsing next to her that she scoots to snuggle into your side. You fight to keep your eyes open because you still have to clean up. Nayeon mumbles something into your skin. You don’t quite catch what she says, softly asking her to repeat it, and you freeze.

“I love you.”

It’s a finicky thing, this thing between you and Nayeon. Somewhere along the way, you fell for her. Maybe you knew the moment you met her, or maybe you knew that you would at some point in time. Or maybe you knew the night she walked into your office because by then, it had built up between you that that was the final piece of the puzzle to confirm what you’ve known.

The hormones flow between you, and you can’t help but think that’s the only reason why. You’re an idiot too, “Are you just saying that?” Nayeon’s hand presses into your chest. You open your eyes to her peering over you, hair an unruly mess, “What?”

Nose scrunching, Nayeon rolls her eyes, “You seriously believe I’d throw that around so easily?”

You don’t, but this was Nayeon. You may have been sleeping with her for a while, but you’ve heard the girls talk about their flings. You could almost guarantee that she’s only been sleeping with you, but they know how to hide things.

“Stupid,” Nayeon shakes her head when you ask again. “Did you just say it?”

You did. You do. It’s not just the hormones causing you to act like such a love struck idiot. You weigh the situation, knowing that whatever answer you give will change your relationship. It won’t be an illicit affair between an idol and her manager. It’ll be hard because you’d still have to keep it a secret, unless you changed companies, something you’d be willing to do.

“No,” You send an easy smile, “I love you. I’m in love with you.”

Nayeon’s face lights up, beaming with all her teeth showing, eyes crinkling in the corners. She kisses you, softly, tenderly, a contrast to how you were no less than five minutes ago.

“I love you,” Nayeon says quietly, an unspoken vow passed between you. She understands what this means, being together for real, that there will be hardships, but she’ll do them with you.

You sigh contentedly against her lips, whispering those same three words, full of intent and promise.

“No more dates with Suji-unnie,” Nayeon sing-songs, confident after pecking you on the lips, smug at accomplishing her mission of making you hers.

-- -- --

(pardon any mistakes or typos, lol)

#twice smut #twice nayeon #twice im nayeon #nayeon smut #im nayeon smut #im nayeon

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gucciwins · 3 days

Text

harry brings his girlfriend home to meet his family but it does not go as planned

word count: 5896

a/n: enjoy this story inspired by a lovely anon. happy reading, my sweet friends 💜

Y/N was nervous.

She squeezed Harry’s hand, trying to ground herself, but it seemed to transport her to the first time they met at the diner down the street from her apartment.

Going to university in Los Angeles wasn’t glamorous, not when she had endless bills to pay to keep a roof over her head. She had gone to Martha’s Cakes, a small diner ten minutes from her apartment that served the best hot chocolate. The food was good too but the hot chocolate is what she ordered each visit without fail. It’s a place she’d eat when Y/N had a bit of extra to spend on herself. Instead of buying herself new shoes, or another jelly cat bag charm (Otto, the sausage dog, went everywhere with her) she decided on eating a good meal that didn’t consist of ramen or buttered noodles. She came here when she needed a pick me up or simply wanted to have a nice conversation. It was a late Tuesday in the Spring. Where the sun took longer to come down, allowing her extra time at the bar to do assignments and chat with Antonio about the best produce sales. Y/N had her head down working on an essay due two weeks from now. It was based on one of Los Angeles buildings; it could be based on the oldest church to the Dodger Stadium. Y/N decided on the Avila Adobe residence. Known as the oldest standing residence in the City of Los Angeles. Olvera St. was a famous street and was filled with history. It was one of her favorite places to walk through.

As she was looking through photos, taking notes of significant dates, a patron sat next to her. Y/N didn’t bother seeing who it was, simply scooting her scattered papers closer to her, tucking a few under her laptop.

“It’s not bothering me.” A man spoke.

It startled Y/N only because he had a deep British voice. It felt odd to be hearing in such an unknown area.

“Darla would throw coffee on it if she saw I was bothering a customer.”

“I said it’s okay.”

Y/N laughs. “She would say it wasn’t.”

It seems the man lets it drop as he has nothing to reply. Y/N keeps up with updating her notes as she hears the man order a stack of the lemon poppy pancakes. Those were her favorite, Y/N would get them when she was having a bad day because it would without a fail make her smile. Y/N worked in silence over the next half hour when she felt the need to step to the restroom. Y/N did not want to pack up. Usually she asks a staff member to watch her items, but the diner seemed to be a bit busier. She looked around and her eyes landed on the pancake guy who had his headphones on. She hated bothering people, but he looked kind enough.

Y/N tapped next to his plate to get his attention. It worked because in seconds he slipped off his headphones and had turned his whole body to look at her. It gave her the chance to look at him fully for the first time. He had a buzz cut, and it looked really good. He had slight stubble, but what captured her attention were his bright jade eyes. It felt like he was staring deep into her soul.

“Do–uh–Would you please watch my stuff? I have to use the ladies’ room.”

“Course. Guard it with my life.”

Y/N thanked him and hurried away. When she came back, the man had slightly shifted over, his eyes staring intently at the dark screen of her laptop.

“Thank you,” she shot him a smile. Waking up her screen and getting back to her assignment, except she couldn’t get the man out of her head.

The dimples were something she focused on when he smiled, telling her it was no problem. Then his green eyes were so beautiful she felt she had seen them before. Though she could swear she had never met him before. She did have a weird feeling she had seen him before. Once it hit eight o’clock, Y/N knew it was time to call it. Y/N had her rough draft ready and could continue tomorrow. For now, she’d walk home and take a bath to wash away today’s day.

Y/N was packing up and could see the green-eyed gentleman was too. She would hate herself if she didn’t ask him where she knew him from, if she knew him. Y/N had her bag strapped on her shoulder and turned to him for the last time.

“Excuse me, sir?”

He turned, as if he was waiting to hear from her. “Yes?”

“How do I know you?”

The man’s smile dropped. He looked confused, so she didn’t know him.

“Don’t think we’ve met, until today, Y/N.”

Y/N’s frown deepens. “I didn’t tell you my name.”

He pointed to her bag. She looks down at the red stitching displaying her name. Well, now she looked dumb. Of course, he could read. “You look familiar to me. Sorry if that’s weird.”

The guy clears his throat, shaking his head. “I get that a lot.”

That’s odd, Y/N thought.

“I feel like I know you,” she tried one last time.

“Promise we don’t know each other. I would remember someone as beautiful as you.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped (not literally), but her face felt warm. Fuck, she was not expecting this turn of event. “Ha, uh. I want to say me too, but uh, there’s something familiar about you.”

Harry chuckles as if he knows something she doesn’t.

“Can I walk you out?” He asks.

She nods. He leaves a large tip and follows her to the exit. Y/N ways to Sonia, who shoots her thumbs up, but Y/N has no idea why. Y/N and the man linger outside the door, waiting to see who makes the first move.

“Well, uh, can I have your Instagram?” Y/N asks, not knowing if asking for his number was too forward. At least this way she could stalk him for a bit.

“Oh, I don’t use that. I can give you my number,” he counters.

Y/N perks up. “That works.” She hands him her phone where she watches his hands type in his phone number into her contacts. He hands her back her phone, and she looks at the newly added contact.

Harry S.

It seemed that’s all she needed for her to connect the dots. She lifts her head up and Harry has a flushed face. He didn’t look away from her, almost waiting to see what she’d say.

Y/N not sure how to break the silence. “Harry Sanchez?”

Harry laughs, and it’s all the confirmation Y/N needs. “More like Styles.”

“Oh.”

Did she fuck up her chances? She feels like she didn’t. She got his number.

“What can I use your number for?” She asks, wanting to double check. He still wants her to have it.

“Hopefully for us to plan a date.”

“Even after this,” she points between them as if to explain what they know just happened.

“I’d like to see where it could go.”

“Shit, uh. Well–I’m free Thursday.” Harry smirks, making her want to crawl in a hole because now she feels desperate. “I’m going to leave.”

Harry stops her by grabbing her hand. “I think Thursday is perfect. Are you up for a sunset dinner by the beach?”

“Sounds perfect,” she promised him.

“Good. Thursday it is.”

Now she is standing in front of his childhood home, about to meet his mother and older sister. Y/N had spoken to his mother, Anne, on the phone a few times, but his sister was always busy when Harry tried to pass her the phone. Harry promised her it would go well, but she feared the worst. Their story was genuine but to others could sound fabricated but come on, no one knows Martha’s cakes, it’s not even on Yelp. It’s a place once stumbled upon and then shares the magic with people in their life.

Harry said he felt like coffee and walked for a while until he saw people walk out. The smell of coffee is what drew him in, but the pretty girl he sat next to had him stay for hours. It’s something he shared months down the line. Y/N and Harry had now been together for nine months. Because of her Master’s Y/N had no time to travel. Harry visited home often, but Y/N couldn’t drop everything she was doing to go with him. He understood, but she felt his family wouldn’t. Harry met her dad and twin brothers six months into dating because they lived down in San Diego, only a two-hour drive from them. While Harry’s family lived an ocean away and she refused for him to pay for her flight to London. On top of that, she had classes and exams to worry about that did not allow her to hop on a flight for a week. Thankfully, she made it through the winter semester and had a few weeks off from her internship before going back for her last semester. Y/N knew graduation was just around the corner, and thankfully, had little debt to pay off.

Harry held her tight as he led her up the steps. Y/N was walking slower, trying to prolong the introduction. In her mind, she hoped she was simply psyching herself out and that things actually went well with Harry’s family. That they accepted her because they could see how much she loved him.

“You ready, Lovie?” Harry flashed her a dimpled grin.

Truthfully, she wanted to say no, but Y/N couldn’t do that to him. Not when he was bouncing with excitement. “Ready.” She confirmed.

Harry gave two loud knocks and then opened the front door. Y/N stood behind him as he rushed to embrace his mother. Anne was a sweet woman, much shorter than Harry, but by the tight embrace she held Harry, Y/N could tell she was strong.

Anne gave Harry two big kisses, one on each cheek, before turning her attention to Y/N.

“Y/N!” Anne cheered. She said it with so much delight, it surprised Y/N.

In a matter of seconds, someone tightly wrapped Y/N in a hug, which she quickly reciprocated. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Twist.”

Anne waved her off. “Call me Anne, my dear.”

“Anne,” Y/N repeated.

“Now come in and tell me all about the trip. Did he trick you into going to that fancy lounge where you get free food?” Y/N giggled because Harry indeed took her to a fancy lounge when he said he was taking her to get a smoothie.

Y/N spared a smile at Harry, but it was quick to fall when Y/N met another pair of eyes in the kitchen, looking at her with an intense stare. It dropped quickly because her attention shifted to Harry. Y/N focused back on Anne, trying to brush off the moment as something she imagined.

Y/N tried her best to ignore the pit forming in her stomach. There was no need to worry. Harry talked about wonderful things about his family. She was in safe hands. At least that’s what she kept reminding herself.

Y/N didn’t feel welcome. Anne was a gem, but Gemma was cold and looked bored whenever Y/N said a word. Y/N wondered if Harry picked up on it. He hadn’t said a word. Harry was home and had no time to deal with Y/N’s insecurities. She had to be reading into Gemma, not liking her. Harry spoke the world of his older sister. He said she was his best friend, someone whose opinion he valued. Fear struck her. If Gemma didn’t like her after this visit, she knew that as soon as she got on that plane to go home, Harry would be breaking up with her. At least she’d had several hours to cry about on the plane pathetically.

“There’s no way she didn’t know who you were,” Gemma scoffed, unbelieving of their story.

Harry brushed off her comment as if she said nothing. “Gem, I was bald.”

“Your face didn’t change.”

Harry sighs, “no, but you did a double take when I showed up to your doorstep to show you.”

Gemma frowns, knowing he was right. “Whatever, you were all over twitter.”

Harry is beginning to pick up on his sister’s defense and knows to drop it but will be picking it up with her later. “Anyway. Sitting next to each other, she asked me to watch her stuff when she had to use the restroom.”

“To look you up,” Gemma coughs.

Y/N fidgets in her chair, wanting to be anywhere but here. Harry continues with his story. “She thanked me and went back to her work. Before she left, Y/N asked if we knew each other, but I told her we didn’t. I wouldn’t forget someone as beautiful as her.”

“Charming,” Anne gloats. “My charming boy.”

Harry finished the story, stating it was meant to be. He had loved spending the time in Los Angeles getting to see the city through Y/N’s eyes. It’s a city she’s been living in for a couple of years. There was a lot for her to share with him. Harry had taken a liking to her favorite coffee shop. It had a design resembling a greenhouse and filled with plants, mainly featuring dried lavender. Truthfully, he spent a lot of time there because it was Y/N’s preferred place to study because it never got busy. Y/N called it her hidden gem.

“I’ve never been happier,” Harry shares. Y/N beams at his words but can’t help glancing at Gemma, who can’t help but look sick to her stomach at hearing this news.

Dinner passed dreadfully slowly. Y/N comments when she needs to but honestly hopes to disappear for the night soon, no longer wanting to burden Gemma with her presence. While Anne showed Y/N where she could freshen up, Harry stayed downstairs to share a nightcap with his sister.

Anne comes back to join them, but Gemma bites her tongue until their mother bids them goodnight. Harry gives his mother a tight embrace, commenting on how much he missed her. Gemma was happy her younger brother was home.

“Are you happy, Harry?” Gemma breaks the silence that had fallen between them.

Harry sighs, “never been happier.”

Gemma frowns, because she believes him. “I-I-nevermind.”

Harry frowns because Gemma is never someone to stop herself from saying what’s on her mind. “Hey,” he places his hand on top of hers. “It’s me. Your annoying younger brother, you can tell me anything.”

She removes her hand from under his and places them on her lap. “I don’t think she’s right for you.”

Harry sits back, surprised. “Sorry?”

“It’s clear she’s after something.”

He’s having a hard time believing his sister. “Like what?”

“Your money.”

“Is that all I’m good for?” He asks, baffled.

“No. That’s why I’m telling you. She’s after one thing.”

“How would you know?”

“Come on,” Gemma scoffs. “She goes to a prestigious school with a cost that no one could afford. It’s clear she wants you to pay for it.”

“Gemma, I met her during her last year.”

“Debt doesn’t go away overnight,” she fights back. “She’ll get you to pay off her loans and leave you.”

Harry’s anger is overwhelming him.

“You don’t even know her. Yet you say bad things about her.” It shuts Gemma up, and he uses that to his advantage and walks away.

“We saw the donation you made,” Gemma comments before he can make it up the stairs.

He turns back, trying his best to swallow down his anger. “If you would have asked me, you would know it’s for the music program. I did that for several universities if you would have taken the time to do a bit more research. It grants them a scholarship, plus pays for room and board.”

Gemma has no response. Harry is now standing in front of her and Gemma is nervous. She had never seen her brother this upset.

“What I do with my money is my problem. If she wanted me to send her money for a new car, I would. If she wanted me to buy her a piece of land, I would do it in a blink of an eye. If Y/N asked me to give her every last dime in my account, I would do it without a second thought because I love her. I love her and she loves me. You know, five minutes is not enough to judge her. I do not have to tell you of her financial issues, but I will so you can go home tonight and sleep knowing how upset I am with you. Y/N received the presidential scholarship covering her tuition for the three years she was there. Y/N has applied to hundreds of scholarships to cover her book fees, and has to take on an unpaid internship while working 40 hours a week to cover her rent. Y/N has not accepted a single dime from me for her school because she has gotten this far without me. Y/N only lets me pay for her seven dollar coffee every other day. Y/N would rather give every last dollar to me if I needed it instead of keeping it for herself. Y/N still sends money to her twin brothers for new shoes, or new backpacks, because she loves her family.”

Harry is near tears but keeps going. “I love Y/N. You might not, maybe you never will, but that girl has been the best thing to happen to me. I’ve never been more cared for and loved since she entered my life. So please, don’t bother coming back tomorrow or the rest of the week unless you have an apology for her.”

Y/N is grateful Harry’s room connects to the bathroom because, while she finished getting ready, she thought she would ask Harry for a cup of water and instead stumbled upon a conversation she shouldn’t have. Y/N tries her best to swallow her tears, but it’s no use. They’re more powerful than her. They stream down and Y/N decides to lie in bed, hoping by the time Harry comes in, she’s fast asleep. Y/N isn’t sure how much time has passed, but her tears have dried up and she’s as still as a rock when she hears Harry come in. She wants to tell him that she’s not worth defending if it means he’s messing up his relationship with his sister.

She hears him get ready for bed. Y/N knows he’s folding his clothes and placing them on the chair. He’s meticulous about his night-time routine. He crawls into bed next to her. Y/N tries her best to steal her breathing to make it seem like she’s sleeping, but Harry knows her too well. He scoots right behind her, his hand sliding over her hips and settling on her stomach, right by the scar she got on her eight birthday when she fell off her bike. Harry rubs the lifted skin, where she got four stitches.

Y/N lets out a deep breath, working up the courage to say something, but her throat is closed. She relaxes against him. All her tears dried up. She is beginning to feel better now that she’s with him. A kiss to her temple has her heart slowing down. This is what it is to be protected.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N croaks out when she feels like enough time has passed.

Harry pulls her tight against him. It fills her with ease. “How much did you hear?”

Y/N shakes her head. “I don’t want you to argue with your family.”

“It’s only my sister,” he defends.

“She’s an important person in your life. You’ve always specified that.”

Harry sighs. He leaves a kiss behind Y/N’s ear. “You are important to me, too.”

“You don’t need to be fighting. It’s not necessary.”

“It is when she needs a wack to her head.”

“Harry,” Y/N drags out. “I don’t want you burning bridges.”

Harry understood where she was coming from, but Y/N was not seeing how it affected him as well. ��We’ll be fine. She’s my sister. We’ll talk in a few days. All this will be in the past.”

Y/N freezes, feeling as if someone dropped a cold bucket of water on her. If Harry believes everything will be alright with his sister, that means he sees himself forgiving her for what she said but also means he would be getting rid of the problem. Her.

Harry was going to be breaking up with her. This started her tears to fall again, only this time she couldn’t keep quiet. They were pouring out of her at a quick rate. He was quick to sit up bringing Y/N with him.

“Hey, hey,” Harry cooed. “What happened? What did I do?”

“Y-y-you,” she stuttered. Nothing was coming out.

He would not rush her. Instead, he shifted her to straddle his lap. Y/N tucked her head into his neck. Hary felt his neck dampen with tears. He pressed soft kisses to her hair, whispering “I love you,” hoping it would be enough to calm her. He snaked a hand under her night shirt softly running his nails up and down her back. Y/N curled in closer at the action. His sweet girl was feeling overwhelmed, and he felt awful because he wasn’t being helpful.

Y/N pulled away. Her eyes were puffy and tears streaming down her cheeks. Harry still thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her hands moved from her side up to his neck, she settled them on his cheek. She caressed his face, calming him down. He hadn’t realized how overwhelmed he was, but it’s clear Y/N could see what he needed even in her moments of sadness.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Y/N voiced. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Harry frowned. No one had said anything about him leaving. He would never dream of walking away from her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“But Gemma–”

He cuts her off. “Gemma doesn’t know you like I do. She is looking out for me and I know she meant no harm, but she went about all this wrong. She decided to judge us, judge you before getting to know you.”

Y/N did no wrong. She was nothing Gemma accused her of. Y/N knew that, of course she did, but Y/N hoped to impress his family, not make them upset.

“I know you, Lovie. My mum knows you. Mostly, you know yourself. Your character speaks for you and it has never been anything but kind and loving.”

Harry’s words slowly begin to mend her heart.

“I love you, Harry.”

He connects his lips with hers in a loving kiss. “I love you so much.”

Y/N falls asleep to Harry’s voice as he sings her to sleep. It’s a lullaby he says his mum would sing when he had a nightmare. While Y/N didn’t know how tomorrow would go, she was happy to have Harry at her side.

The morning passed slowly between the three of them. They shared stories with Anne, Harry, catching her up on his upcoming plans. Y/N talked about her looming graduation and told Anne about her thesis project. Anne promised to make the trip for her graduation, something Harry couldn’t stop gloating about how she was top of her class on her way to graduate summa cum laude. Y/N had stepped outside wanting to enjoy all the open land Anne had. The cats happily roamed around Y/N as she settled in the grass. Y/N thought of her dad at home and what he’d have to say about the situation. He’d probably tell her to run while she could, but Y/N knew Harry was her person. Y/N laid down, closed her eyes and took in all the surrounding noise. She heard birds chirping, a purring in the distance and the rush of the wind hitting the wind chimes. It was perfect.

There was a loud band that had Y/N sitting up in a hurry. She looked back and realized it was the back door. Anne had stepped out, Y/N could see Harry in the kitchen, hands moving rapidly, and she knew he wasn’t alone. Anne sat not to Y/N, neither of them saying a word.

“My daughter owes you an apology.”

“Anne–”

She stops Y/N. “No, I raised her better than that. I’m not sure when she got so protective, but it’s clearly not for the best. Harry is nearing 30 he doesn’t need his sister looking out for him. While I’m glad they have each other, this was unnecessary. It caused a lot of hurt that should have never existed.”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to talk to her if you’re not comfortable.”

Y/N didn’t know how to feel. She dreaded talking to Gemma, but Y/N knew she’d feel worse if she went home and never talked this out with her. “I’m willing. I-I might need time to forgive her.”

Anne squeezed Y/N’s hand. “That’s perfectly alright. Now tell me about these brothers of yours.”

Y/N spent the rest of the evening with Anne, forgetting about her problems. It isn’t until Harry called them both in for dinner that they realized they spent hours outside.

Harry greeted her with a kiss.

Dinner went off without a hitch, the three of them sharing all kinds of stories. Mostly Harry interrupting Anne to tell her a new story about Y/N he remembered. Harry that night promised he was alright with Gemma. He was feeling hurt. Assured her he loved her, but needed time to move past it.

Y/N woke up early the next morning and decided to go on a walk along the river. Harry told her it felt never ending. They had walked it once every day, but today she went alone, letting Harry sleep in but also have that extra time with Anne. As Y/N walked, she thought of her brothers and how they would love to be throwing rocks in the river. Y/N was sure one of them would even fall in on accident. The weather would pique her dad’s interest. He was a sunshine man. She was sure the gloomy weather would be too much for him to handle.

Two hours later, Y/N came back and was taken aback by Gemma’s presence on the front steps of the house, holding a thermal mug.

“Hi,” Y/N greeted.

“Morning, nice walk?” Gemma asked.

Small talk. It was safe. “Mhm, Harry showed me the trail he liked to walk on.”

“Mmm…coffee?” Gemma offered.

“Uh, I’m okay,” Y/N rejected.

Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”

Y/N nodded. “Sure.”

Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words.

“I’m sorry” are Gemma’s first words. “I’m sorry talking about you behind your back, even more sorry that you overheard.” Gemma looks sincere, and Y/N nods for her to continue. “I love Harry. He’s the best brother, and a person in general. He cares so much that I fear he’s gotten screwed over so much in life because he trusts with his heart and not his head.”

Y/N frowns, because that’s one of the things she loves most about Harry. How welcoming he is with his kind nature and how much love he spreads every day whether it’s through his music or holding the door open for a stranger. It all adds up to show that he’s a person full of love.

“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her.

Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”

“That hasn’t been him for a long time.”

“I know.”

It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready.

“I love Harry. I think we have a wonderful relationship.” Y/N knows Gemma might not want to hear this, but it is important he does. “Harry loves communication. I swear we’ve never had an argument that didn’t end in us making up. He gives me my space but makes sure to be near. I’m reminded of his love every second of every day, whether he’s with me or not. I’m not sure if I make him feel loved every minute, but I do my best to remind him in my actions and words. I’m big on writing notes. He’s received a few love letters. I’m sure he’d show you if you asked.” Gemma tries her best to hide her surprise, but it’s written all over her face. “I’ve only heard wonderful stories about you, Gemma. I’m sure they’re all true, but I know Harry thought we might become friends.” Y/N pauses. “Even if that doesn’t happen, I do want you to know I respect you. For however long I’m around, I know that I respect you, even if it might take some time for me to trust you.”

Gemma has tears running down her face. “I’m sorry. I never provided you with an opportunity. I’m not sure why I didn’t. I am really sorry. Meeting the family is always hard, and I fucking ruined it.”

“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.”

“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully.

Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.”

“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.”

Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades.

“Morning, pretty girl.”

Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”

Y/N nodded. “Sure.”

Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words.

“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her.

Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”

“That hasn’t been him for a long time.”

“I know.”

It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready.

“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.”

“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully.

Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.”

“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.”

Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades.

“Morning, pretty girl.”

“Hi, Harry. I love you.”

Y/N knows he’s grinning. “I love you too. Even if you left me alone this morning.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she defends. “You always told me a morning walk here cleared your head.”

“And did it?”

“Mmm…like magic.”

“Are you okay, Lovie?” Harry turns off the stove. He turns around, setting his hands on Y/N’s waist. His hair makes her laugh as she sees it sticking in different directions.

“We talked. She apologized. Promise I’m okay. It still hurts, but I’ll try my best to forgive her for you.”

Harry tuts his tongue. “No, honey.” Y/N tilts her head, confused. “You don’t have to do this for me.”

“But she’s your–”

“She’s my sister, but that doesn’t mean you have to change how you feel about me. I promise I am with you. She made a mistake, and I’ll forgive her but at my own time. You take your time as well.”

Y/N feels overwhelmed all over again because she really did get lucky with Harry. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more, my love. So much more.”

Harry gives her a kiss. A promise that everything will be alright.

thank you for reading my beautiful friends! let me know your favorite parts

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles story #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst story #harry styles fic rec #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction

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misc-obeyme · 2 days

Note

cc. your tags on the boudoir post. MAMMON recieving an album of those photos. i'd love to hear your thoughts on his reaction (and everyone else's, if you're feeling particularly inspired?)

Ah, Daisy, my dear, thank you for asking!

I apologize for this late response, but I knew I was gonna be getting wordy with this one. Because I looove the boudoir photos idea in general and OH MAN just thinking about all their reactions is making me crazy lol. I was going to just do my regular sort of response, but this turned into full on headcanons oops.

So just in case anyone missed it, here is the original post!

My thoughts change a little bit depending on whether MC is present when the characters receive the pictures, so I included both! I only did the bros but I might be willing to do the rest upon request!

the brothers react to MC giving them an album of boudoir photos

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: suggestive but that's about it, nothing explicit

Lucifer

When you're with him, Lucifer is calm and courteous, but with a flare of arrogance. Of course you would give him such a special gift. It's only natural that you would trust such intimacies to him.

He asks you if you're trying to tell him something. Has he perhaps been neglecting you, MC? Did you give him this so that he wouldn't be able to help himself? He's onto you.

No matter your reason, he can't look through too many of the pictures before wanting the real thing that's sitting right next to him. Tell him you still have some of that lingerie in your possession. Especially if you happen to have some in his colors.

If you aren't with him, he's going to be a lot less arrogant in general. He will find you later, make no mistake. But he's honestly so touched by your gift that he spends a lot of time looking through the album, simply admiring you.

Mammon

Mammon is freaking out no matter where you are the time. If you're with him, it's definitely a lot worse. Blushing profusely. Opens the album then slams it shut because he can't handle looking at it for very long.

You can't help but giggle at his reaction and then it's all stop laughin' at him MC!! You'll need to take his hands or maybe kiss his cheek, let him know that you genuinely just wanted to give him a nice gift, you aren't trying to tease him or anything.

Ask him if he likes it. You'll get a serious response. Calms down enough to say 'course he likes it. Likes it so much, he suddenly can't keep his hands off you.

If you aren't with him at the time, he buries it under his pillow or otherwise hides it because this is now one of his treasures and nobody gets to see it but him!

Leviathan

Levi is another one who'd be a blushing mess no matter what, but if you're there at the time, he might retreat to his room and not let you in. He needs that barrier between you because if he sees you right now, his heart will explode.

He'll let you back in eventually, but it might be a minute. He needs to calm down. Are you trying to kill him, MC?! Even when he does let you in, he can't look at you directly. He's probably covering his face with his hands.

Reassure him that you gave these photos to him because you trust him with them. They're personal, intimate, and you want him to be close to you. He's going to calm down the more you talk to him. Pull his hands away from his face and when he sees the sincerity in your eyes, it flips a switch. Might even slip into demon form just to wrap his tail around you possessively.

If you're not with him at the time, he's going to need to take care of that raging boner of his right away. He won't be able to focus on anything else until he does. He's so embarrassed, he has to watch several episodes of Ruri Hana to recalibrate.

Satan

He will try to keep his expression unreadable. He's not having any over the top reactions, but as he flips through the photos, he keeps getting redder and redder. You're sitting right next to him, how can he not react? At some point, he has to close the album because he feels like he's looking at something he shouldn't.

Satan is quiet about how flustered he is, but he's having a hard time looking at you. He tries to say something and incomprehensible lines about how beautiful you are fall from his lips. He sounds like a broken record of spoken word poetry or perhaps a very drunk beat poet.

Recovers himself after a minute. As soon as he's composed, you're in his arms. You knew what this would do to him, didn't you, MC? You'll find yourself pressed up against the nearest wall in moments.

If you're not with him, Satan will tuck your album into a stack of his other books. He thinks it's well hidden there - in plain sight. But he's hyper aware of it. Keeps coming back to look at it. Ends up having to put it on the bottom of a stack behind a different stack to make it more difficult to get to.

Asmodeus

Thrilled. Absolutely thrilled in every way. Oh, wow, MC, you look amazing. He's breathless. He's entranced. He's even blushing because he knows what it means that you've given these to him. He's so in love with you, he can't stand it.

Asks you about everything you may be wearing. Comments on the skill of the photographer. Tells you that next time, you should do one together. He has so many ideas. He wants to do one where all you're wearing is jewelry - bright and sparkling, just like your soul.

Covers you in kisses. He's not shy about how this is making him feel, how much he wants you. He just wants to see your beautiful figure here and now in real life, MC! Won't you let him worship you?

If you're not with him, he will find you immediately so he can say all of the things he needs to say in that moment. You can't leave him alone with all these feelings, both physical and emotional. He brings them all to you without hesitating.

Beelzebub

It might take him a minute to understand exactly what he's looking at, mostly because he's never even heard of this. He doesn't know what a boudoir photo shoot is, so you might have to explain it to him. Once he understands, he starts lightly blushing as he looks through them. His expression is serious because he's beginning to see just how special this is.

Honestly surprised that you would give him something so intimate. He's touched. He's going to hug it to himself and look at you with tears in his eyes because he can't believe how lucky he is.

Give him another couple minutes to look through them and then he's having different feelings. He's not sure if he can hold back, MC. Tell him it's okay, that you don't want him to, and you'll find yourself on your back on his bed in zero seconds flat. You're quickly reminded why he's the Avatar of Gluttony.

If you're not with him at the time, he will figure things out on his own, though he'll have a plethora of questions for you later. He keeps it close to him at all times until you answer them because he knows one thing for sure - he doesn't want anyone else seeing these.

Belphegor

Oh, he sees what you're playing at. Trying to fluster him, are you, MC? Trying to rile him up? Are you sure you can handle him when you do that? He's so wound up by the gift he can't act normal about it. He's actually very touched by it, but he's not sure how to deal with the feelings, so he comes on too strong.

You laugh because to you, this is expected. You understand that this is Belphie's way of dealing with his own shyness. You respond by meeting him with just as much intensity. It's all kisses and touching and fumbling in the dark.

It's only later, when both of you are calm, when you're nestled in his arms, that he admits to you how much it means to him. That he tells you how he'll cherish the album you gave him. That he says he's stunned by how gorgeous you are, even more brilliant that the stars in the sky.

If you aren't with him at the time, you'll be dealing with a petulant but horny demon later on. He's going to be annoyed at you for leaving it for him and then not being there when it inevitably turns him on. Just as possessive as his brothers, he hides it in the attic where no one is likely to find it.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

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cupofjeon · 1 day

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Lion’s Den [✓]

↳ Summary: You should have seen the warning signs. It’s been there since the day Jungkook started showing his more than friends affection towards you. Hindsight is, indeed, twenty-twenty, and now you’re reaping the false belief you sowed about the man you once loved. By the time your rose-colored glasses shattered, it was too late. You’ve already entered the lion’s den.

↳ Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Producer!Fem!Reader

↳ Genre: Yandere | ↳ Type of fic: Oneshot (Completed) ✓

↳ Disclaimer: The story below the cut is fictitious only. It does not depict Jungkook or any of the other idols mentioned and featured in this story in real life. The author does not condone this type of behavior. Minors do not interact with this story. Ageless blogs will be blocked on the presumption that you are underaged.

↳ Warnings: Blackmailing, threats, NONCON: unprotected sex, slapping, marking, hair pulling, throat/face fucking, finger fucking, pussy eating, manipulation, forced marriage, physical assault, violence, murder, mention of attempted suicide, graphic depiction of abusive behaviors and relationship.

↳ Total Word Count: 12,380

↳ Taglist: @looneybleus @iveivory @jjk174 @kissyfacekoo @sweetempathprunetree @minchedchilli @jiminismine4ever (If you cannot see the story, please change your settings and allow mature content to be displayed.)

━━ “Show you what devotion is, deeper than the ocean is.”

You slam the envelope in your hand on the counter in front of your ex-boyfriend, nose flaring and eyes narrowed as you look at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you, huh? Why the hell are you doing this?”

Jeon Jungkook stares at you impassively. “I warned you, didn’t I? Stop with all these playing hard to get nonsense or you’ll face severe consequences. You didn’t listen. Now, you’re going to need to face the consequences.”

You stare at him in utter disbelief, mouth agape as you shake your head. “I’m not playing hard to get, Jungkook. We’re over. Why can’t you get that through your fucking head? Are you insane?!”

Your chest rises heavily as your hands curl into fists. Jungkook’s lips curl into a lopsided smirk as he spreads his arms on the counter, holding onto the edges to lean in towards you. “I’m the one who gets to decide whether we’re over or not, baby. And I’m telling you—we’re far from it. So, what is it going to be? Are you going to continue being stubborn, or should I send these photos of your brother smoking marijuana and drinking to the media?”

You clench your jaw, knuckles turning white the more his words echo in your mind. Then, your shoulders fall as you furrow your eyebrows and adjust the red oval shaped spectacles on the bridge of your nose. “Why are you doing this, Jungkook? This isn’t you.”

He pokes his cheek with his tongue before sighing deeply and running his fingers through his long curly dark hair. “Of course this is me, baby. What are you talking about? It’s always been me.”

“You’re sick, Jeon Jungkook,” you say. “This isn’t how you treat someone you claim to love. Jungwon—he loves you and he looks up to you. He sees you as his hyung and you betray him like this? What kind of a sick monster are you?”

“You made me do this,” Jungkook hisses, walking towards you. Instinctively, you walk away from him, but he’s quick to grab your arm tightly and pull you close to him. “If you just stayed, none of these would have ever happened. But you left me, Y/N. You left me when I begged you on my fucking knees to stay. You did this to Jungwon, not me.”

You try to pull away from him but Jungkook’s grip tightens. He looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed deeply, those soft doe eyes you loved so much holding nothing but coldness and darkness now. “Let me go. Let me fucking go, Jungkook, or I swear to God—,”

“You’ll what? You’re going to report me to the police? To Hybe? Expose me to the media and online?” Jungkook scoffs, grabbing your face with his free hand to keep your eyes locked with his. “Nobody is going to believe you, Y/N. Who do you think you are compared to me? You’re nothing and you have no one. All you have is me.”

You hate that he is speaking the truth. In front of everybody, Jungkook is a goddamn angel sent from above. He’s the golden maknae. He’s someone who has never changed despite the achievements he received at such a young age. He’s a philanthropist who supports various causes worldwide and donates regularly to different charities.

A salt of the earth kind of guy, humble, polite, kind, respectful, gentleman, a walking green flag—these are his personas for everyone to see. And he’s been playing these roles goddamn well over the past decade of his career.

Even if you report, no one is going to believe you because he’s Jeon Jungkook.

“I hate you,” you tell him. “I hate you with every fiber of my being. I regret ever meeting you. I wish I never met you.”

His upper lip twitches with your words. Then, he smirks. “Well, I guess you’ve made your choice then. You can carry the burden of knowing you’re responsible for the death of your brother’s career, Y/N.”

He lets you and pulls his phone out of his pocket. Your heart races as he types something. Quickly, you hold onto his arms. “No, wait! Please don’t do this, Jungkook. Don’t do this to Jungwon, please.”

“Let go of my arm, Y/N. I’m not going to ask again,” he says through gritted teeth.

You only hold on tighter. “Jungkook, please. I’m—,” you can’t say it. You can’t say it. But he’s giving you no option. You have to. “I’m sorry, please. Jungkook, not Jungwon. Not my brother.”

“Prove it,” he tells you.

You look up at him. “What?”

“Prove to me just how sorry you are, Y/N. Then I might reconsider sending these photos to the authorities.”

You feel your head spinning. Your breathing becomes ragged as the anxiety builds up inside you. This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening. You repeat these like a mantra as you open your mouth to say something, but no words come out.

Jungkook pushes you off him. “I’m done waiting around.”

He turns his back on you, pressing his phone against his ear as he walks away from you. Your instincts take over and you catch up to him, pulling him by his shoulders and crashing your lips against his. The coldness of his lip ring makes you shiver, but it’s nothing compared to when Jungkook smirks against the kiss and returns it with much fervor and ferocity. He drops his phone on the floor as he holds your face in his big hands, tilting his head for better access.

There is no going back now. You have crossed the line. You have sealed your fate. You hold onto his shirt as you feel tears burning your eyes. You just want this to be over with.

“Bend over the counter,” he says, pulling away from the kiss as he starts to unbutton his jeans.

“Jungkook—,” you begin to say. Then, you feel a stinging pain on your cheek. Eyes wide in shock, you feel tears forming in your eyes at the realization of what just occurred.

“I didn’t ask. Bend over the fucking counter, bitch,” he hisses.

Covered in fear, you make your way to the island countertop, embracing yourself from the inevitable. Jungkook pushes you against it, ripping your blouse apart; buttons flying everywhere in the kitchen. He only smirks at your terrified state.

He unclasps your bra, groping your breasts with his veiny hands before ordering you to unbutton your pants. Once your pants are pooled around your ankles, Jungkook commands you to turn around and he forcefully pushes you on the cold marble top. Your glasses are positioned awkwardly but you don’t have time to take them off because Jungkook suddenly penetrates you, making you scream in pain.

“Yeah, fuck, you’re so tight for a fucking slut,” Jungkook groans as he thrusts in you in a quick pace, not letting you adjust. He gathers your hair around his hand and pulls your head back as the pain of his sudden penetration soars through your whole body. “I missed fucking this cunt. My cunt.”

All you can do is whimper with each thrust, tears rolling from your eyes. Jungkook pulls you to him, your back pressed against his toned chest and abs. His lips bite down the skin of your neck as he continues to thrust into you. He fondles your breast, squeezing it tight and pinching your nipples.

Once he’s satisfied with the marks he left on your neck, he pushes you back down, grabbing your arms and pinning them behind your back as he quickened his pace once more. The sound of your groans, his grunts, and your skin slapping against each other fill the kitchen.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, fuck, fuck,” Jungkook pants and after a few more thrusts, he lets out a long moan as you feel the hot liquid rolling down your inner thigh. He pulls out his cock from your cunt and you lay on your chest against the counter while he pulls his boxers and pants up. Tears pool on the counter top.

Then, Jungkook pulls you to his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You’re mine. If you leave me again, I’m going to kill every single one of the people you care about—starting with Jungwon.”

“What are you thinking about?” Jungkook asks, propping his elbow on the bed as he rests his head on his palm, looking at you. His fingers brush the strands of hair on your face then he tilts your head to face him by your chin.

You grip the blanket covering your naked body tightly as you stare at him with half-lidded eyes. You don’t think you have the energy to talk; your throat is sore from Jungkook fucking your mouth without any care in the world and your entire body is sore and exhausted from being fucked and handled by the monster staring at you for hours. You just want to go home. Facing the other side, you pull the blanket more to cover your entire body, curling underneath.

Jungkook, however, slides his arm under your body and the other over your waist as he pulls you closer to him. “You know you deserve this, Y/N. If you had just stayed, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t be so harsh. You needed to be punished for leaving me.”

He’s insane—there is no more question about that. He’s a complete psychopath. The fact that he’s trying to justify his actions to you makes your skin crawl.

“I told you when I was courting you that I will show you how devoted I am to you, right? We even made a song about it,” he has the audacity to chuckle as he explains his insanity. “Show you what devotion is, deeper than the ocean is, remember?” He rests his chin on your shoulder.

You swallow the lump in your throat and with your hoarse voice, you ask him, “Will you leave Jungwon alone now that you’ve punished me?”

“It depends,” he tells you. “You betrayed me and my trust, Y/N. You’re not off the hook yet.”

You bite your lower lip. “Jungkook, please. I don’t know what else you want me to do. You have me already. Can you please just give me your word that you’ll erase all copies of those photos and leave my brother alone? He doesn’t deserve any of this.”

“Okay, I’ll make sure to erase everything on one condition,” he declares. “I want you to marry me.”

Your body freezes under his embrace. “W-What?”

“You heard me. Marry me and I’ll leave your brother alone.”

You turn to face him, face contorted in disbelief and utter repulsion. He stares at you in all seriousness. “You’re a monster, Jeon Jungkook.”

He smirks as he places a kiss on your lips. “Why don’t you sleep on it and come morning, you can tell me your answer.”

Wearing a pair of washed jeans you left at his place before the break up and one of his T-shirts, you and Jungkook walk into the Hybe building, hand-in-hand, the next day. If everything was the same way as before, you would have smiled and proudly walked by his side, but now you keep your head as low as possible, conscious about everything especially the hickeys on your neck which you hide with your hair as the old concealer you also left at his place did not provide much help. You try quickening your pace, but Jungkook ensures to take short strides, which you know is to let everyone know that you are back together again.

When you’re finally alone in the elevator, you try to take your hand back. However, Jungkook won’t let go. You sigh in frustration. “I’m not going anywhere, Jungkook. I have to work here the whole day. So are you. You can let me go now.”

“You still haven’t told me your answer,” he says. “I hope you know by now that I’m not the type to wait around, Y/N.”

“What you’re asking is too much. I can’t just marry you because you want me to,” you point out, clicking your tongue.

The elevator doors open to the fifth floor where your studio is located. You and Jungkook step out and he walks you until you reach the studio. Yang Studio is engraved on the door behind you. Jungkook lets go of your hand (finally) and holds your face with both hands, placing a soft kiss on your lips. For a moment, a split second, it feels as though the man you fell in love with has come back, but when he pulls you away, he whispers against your lips, “I’ll wait until the end of the day for your answer. You know what will happen if you don’t give me any.”

He pushes your glasses further up your nose bridge. You say, dejectedly, “I don’t have any choice. What do you need an answer for when you already know it?”

“Because I wanna hear it from you,” he smiles. “I’ll see you later, baby. Don’t do anything stupid. I’m watching you.”

With one final kiss, he walks away while you’re left with a heavy feeling in your chest as you enter your studio. At least, for the time being since yesterday, you are completely alone. You don’t mind, however, and welcome the empty studio with open arms.

Whenever you’re working, time flies by fast. Your focus is only on the songs you’re working on for the various groups at Hybe. Currently, you’re working on one of the B-side tracks for your brother’s group, Enhypen. It wouldn’t be the first time you worked with the relatively new group. You previously worked with them for their songs Fever and Shout Out which gained positive acclaim from their fans and the public as well. Due to this response, their label asked if you could produce another B-side and you agreed right away.

You’re in the middle of mixing Bills, the song you were working on throughout the day, when you suddenly jumped at the feeling of something cold and wet pressing against your cheeks. When you look up, you see the familiar sight of your deranged ex-boyfriend Jungkook looking down at you with his famous bunny smile, holding takeout boxes from the cafeteria and a can of lemon-flavored drink. For a split second, you almost return the smile, like you always did before Jungkook showed his true colors. He just looked like the man you fell in love with. However, you’re quick to catch yourself from falling into the trap once again.

You deduce that the can must be what was pressed on your cheek as Jungkook grabs an empty chair and places it beside you, sitting on it, and placing the boxes and drinks on the table.

“Your time’s up like fifteen minutes ago, but since I’ve had a good day, I’ll extend it until we finish eating,” Jungkook tells you as he opens one of the boxes and the smell of tangsuyuk fills your nostrils, making your stomach grumble in anticipation.

You look at the time on your computer, 12:17 am. You haven’t even realized it’s past midnight already. You take your glasses off as you rub your eyes while Jungkook slides the box towards you then flicks the can of soft drink on the side, a trick he swore would make the drink less carbonated, before opening it and placing it beside the dish. How can he act so sweet one minute and then be cruel the next? You take the chopstick from his hand, pulling them apart, and shift on your seat as you begin to eat.

“What are you working on?” he asks as he prepares his own meal.

You chew and swallow your food before answering him, feeling the need to put your glasses so you do so. It’s a comfort thing, you suppose. “Song for Enha.”

“Yeah? What is it called?”

“Bills,” you tell him. He glances at you, giving you a knowing look. You understand what the look means. You sigh. “It’s a song about a break up, but it’s not about our break up.”

“Why? You didn’t want to write one ‘cos you know you’ll come back to me anyway?” Jungkook asks with a chuckle.

“No, I didn’t write any songs about our break up because it wasn’t worth it,” you reply, shrugging your shoulders as you continue eating. Instinctively, you glance at him, and you see Jungkook looking at you with his jaw tensed. You hit a nerve—you hit more than just a nerve, but perhaps his entire ego, and nothing is more fragile than a man’s ego.

A part of you swells in pride knowing you’ve hurt his ego, but the other part of you mentally scolds yourself for saying what you said. Jungkook is a ticking time bomb; the last thing you want is for him to explode. “Sorry,” you say, sucking your teeth. “Forget I said anything. Let’s just continue eating, please.”

“How did you go from loving me to hating me, Y/N? I’ve done nothing but love you. Why did you suddenly leave me?” Jungkook asks, his tone indicating he’s hurt which takes you aback.

Jungkook—the man who forced himself upon you last night, who slapped you, who threatened to kill your brother if you don’t oblige to his requests and blackmailed you—hurt? It gives you a whiplash just thinking about it. He’s fucking delusional, you conclude.

“Jungkook, you changed,” you say. “You—,”

“Just because someone you love changed doesn’t mean you leave them,” he hisses.

“You leave when they’ve changed for the worst, Jungkook, and you changed for the worst. You became controlling,” your breathing is ragged, but you swallow the lump in your throat as you continue your tirade.

“At first, I let it go because I loved you and I’ve known you since we were fifteen and I know how possessive you can be, but I told myself it was just because you’ve always been insecure even when you had no reason to. Then, it escalated. Suddenly, you always wanted to check my phone, always wanting to be here at my studio or wherever I am when I’m working because you’re paranoid about the people I work with, dictating what I should and shouldn’t wear, and you disrespected my boundaries when I clearly established them with you especially in sex. You no longer see me as your girlfriend or even as Y/N, your friend before being your girlfriend; you treated me like I’m an object, like I’m your property.”

“I did all those for you, Y/N. You didn’t see what I saw. Those people you work with—that fucking Jang Yijeong and Kim Woosung—it’s clear they want you. They practically eye fuck you every time you’re in the goddamn room! You’re my girlfriend. It’s only natural that I do everything to let them know you’re mine,” Jungkook reasons, shaking his head at your tirade.

“They’re my co-workers, Jungkook! Yijeong, he’s like family to me now much like how Yoongi is because they taught me everything I know about songwriting and producing. And Woosung? He’s my friend. I’m allowed to have male friends.”

“You’re so naive, baby, it frustrates me so much,” he scoffs, poking his cheek with his tongue as he narrows his gaze at you.

“Tell me there’s a part of you that understands where I’m coming from,” you desperately say, but you’re met with the coldness of his eyes. You shut your eyes tightly. “Jungkook, I broke up with you because I finally saw you for who you truly are. You don’t love me; you want to own me.”

“I told you I’ll show you how devoted I am to you,” Jungkook quips, chuckling to himself. You shiver at his lighthearted disposition. “I love you, Y/N. It’s only right that I get to you all to myself because I’m all yours.”

“You don’t own the people you love,” you say, sighing in resignation. “And you don’t threaten them and their loved ones with death and career ruining photos.”

Jungkook spins your chair and pulls you close to him. He traps your thighs in between his as he cups your face with his strong veiny hands. “Baby, I’m the only loved one in your life that you should care about. Your brother—he’s old enough to fend for himself. You don’t need him anymore.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you ask, nose flaring. “He’s my family, Jungkook. He will always be my family.”

“But he doesn’t need you anymore, Y/N. When was the last time you even talked to him? When was the last time he talked to you? All this time, you’re asking me to erase all photos of him drinking while underage in Vegas and smoking weed on top of that, but have you stopped to ask yourself: Why did Jungwon do it? Do you even really know your brother?” Jungkook caresses your cheek.

You’re speechless. You haven’t thought about that. He smiles, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. He tastes like the tangsuyuk he also ordered for himself. “Why don’t you ask him why he did what he did?”

“Jungwon would never do something illegal. For all I know, you fucking manipulated him in doing that shit to get back at me!” you slap his hands away from your face and you rise from your seat, pointing your finger at him. “I swear to God if I find out you manipulated him in doing it, I will—,”

“I thought it was already established that nobody will believe you anyway. The police? I give a shit ton of money to that shitty force everyday. Hybe? Baby, I’m one of the reasons this company even exists. Media? Fans? The public? Who’s going to believe you over someone they’ve watched grow up right before their eyes? Who’s going to believe you over their golden maknae?”

You clench your fists. “You’re not as powerful as you think. Get over your fucking self.”

He smacks his lips. “We’ll see about that. Good night, my love.”

Then, he simply leaves, with only the half-eaten tangsuyuk and unopened can of soft drink as remnants that Jeon Jungkook was even here.

It’s been a while since the last time you saw Jungwon. His is longer and back to black which you thought suited him the best. He’s gotten taller too and the way he carries himself now is different than he used to before. Or maybe, he’s just forever the shy baby brother in your mind. You asked him to meet you at your apartment, telling him that you informed their manager beforehand but to let the two of you talk privately.

His manager dropped him off at your place, dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants, a navy blue hoodie, and white sneakers that he left by your doorway.

“Why do you wanna meet at the crack of dawn, noona?” Jungwon asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

You go straight to the point. “You went drinking and smoked marijuana in Vegas.”

He tenses, pressing his lips, his dimples appearing on his cheeks. Then, he clicks his tongue and sighs deeply. “I really didn’t want you to find out, but I’m guessing Jungkook hyung told you.”

“Why didn’t you want me to find out?” you ask, pushing your glasses further up your nose bridge.

“Why do you think, noona? You’re going to overreact, of course. It was just one time and it’s not like I’m the only one who does shit like that. Everyone does it too. Besides, Jungkook hyung already took care of it and Hybe too.” There is irritation in his voice and he doesn’t bother to hide it.

This makes you angry. “Overreact? I’m entitled to overreact about this, Jungwon. Do you realize the weight of your actions? You are not allowed to drink in the States until you’re 21 and you’re certainly not allowed to smoke fucking marijuana because you’re Korean! The law still applies to you even when you’re abroad. It’s a crime for you to even be holding it, Jungwon. What the hell? Just because everyone else is doing it doesn’t mean you have to do it too!”

“See, this is what I’m talking about. You know what, I’m not going to do this right now, noona. I have a busy schedule later and I’m—,”

“No,” you snap. “You’re staying here and we are going to talk about this. You have to understand the weight of your actions, Jungwon. What you did can land you in jail. What you did can ruin your career and you will never be able to recover from it. All the hard work and sacrifices you made to be where you are now—all of that will go to waste because of this. This is serious. Why the hell did you do it?”

Jungwon scoffs in disbelief, tilting his head to the side. “You know, you’ve done a pretty good job ignoring what I do in my personal life for the past couple of years, noona. Why the hell are you suddenly interested? Tell me, you’re not really worried about me, right? You’re about you and your fucking career.”

“That’s not true. Jungwon, I’ve not been ignoring you. Are you fucking serious right now? I worked my ass off for years for you! Because we only got each other in this goddamn world! Because someone has to step up and raise you otherwise you’ll just rot in foster care. Someone has to be the grown up!”

“Yeah? In your eyes, maybe. But have you stopped to look at it from my perspective? You made me feel like I was just some responsibility. I needed you to be my sister,” Jungwon clenches his jaw. “All those times you scolded me for not attending practices and taekwondo because I rather play with my friends, all those times you harshly critiqued me on my singing even when I know I did a good job but you didn’t want the others to see you favoring me, because you never thought I was enough, all those fucking times I came to you to tell you how hard it was being on that survival show, on being a trainee because you’re my sister and when you started dating Jungkook hyung—what did you do, noona?”

You feel your throat tightening and your eyes burning with tears. All the memories of those times he listed running through your mind. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Jungwon laughs emptily.

“You were supposed to tell me it’s fine I skip practices and taekwondo and play with my friends instead because it was so suffocating being in the practice studio all the time, you were supposed to tell me I did good when I did good and not hold back because you’re afraid of other people’s opinions of you, you were supposed to comfort me and tell me you might not understand what I’m going through but you believed in me because I’m your brother when I was on I-Land, and you were supposed to tell me first before anyone else that you’re dating my senior and not let me find out on the news. You were supposed to be my sister. Not my mother, not my producer. My sister.”

Both of you are crying, but Jungwon wipes his tears harshly with the sleeves of his hoodie. “You haven’t treated me like a brother for years. You don’t get to just decide on being a sister to me again because of this. You wanna know why I did it? It’s because I just wanna feel good even for one fucking second. I feel so fucking pressured to live up to your standards. I never—I never asked for any of this. I only became a trainee, became an idol because I thought, maybe, when I finally become one, you’ll finally notice me again. Maybe you’ll be proud to have me as your brother again. Maybe I’ll be good enough then for the great Yang Y/N.”

Your heart shatters. You place your hands on your chest, a fresh set of hot tears streaming down your face. “Jungwon, I-I’ve always been proud of you. Always.”

He shakes his head. “No, you haven’t.”

“I have,” you say, stepping closer to him but he backs away. “Jungwon, you’re my brother. I love you and I’m sorry I’ve not been the sister you needed. I don’t—,” you suck in a sharp shaky breath. “How can I make it up to you?”

“I don’t know,” he breathes out. “But just—just leave me alone.”

“Jungwon,” you call out but your brother’s already gone.

You find yourself standing in front of Jungkook’s front door. The security at his high-rise, gated condominium community easily let you in, knowing you were the idol at the penthouse’s girlfriend and because Jungkook had already informed them to let you pass through whenever you visited. It’s 4:18 am on your phone, a little over an hour since your conversation with Jungwon. While you were crying on the floor of your apartment, you suddenly remembered the deadline—Jungkook’s deadline—and you got up immediately to go to his house.

On the taxi ride to Jungkook’s, your mind replayed Jungwon’s words over and over again.

You made me feel like I’m just some responsibility. I needed you to be my sister. I never wanted any of this. I feel so fucking pressured to live up to your standards. Maybe you’ll be proud to have me as your brother again. Maybe I’ll be good enough then for the great Yang Y/N.

The heaviness you’re carrying in your chest is indescribable. The guilt of knowing you’re the reason he did those things and not because Jungkook or anyone else forced or manipulated him to—it’s intense. It’s you who caused this mess. It’s you who neglected your brother in the pursuit of making sure you stay together.

That’s what you promised your grandmother before she passed away when you were fourteen, three years after your own parents died in a car accident on the way to celebrate their thirteenth wedding anniversary. You promised her that you wouldn’t let anyone separate the two of you so at just the young age of fourteen, you were forced to leave all childhood pursuits behind and grow up. Whenever you weren’t at school, you were working part-time jobs to sustain yours and Jungwon’s needs. You stayed with a distant aunt, but you were determined to be his legal guardian the moment you turned 18.

So, when the opportunity for you to become a producer at BigHit at fifteen, you took it—packing everything in your hometown and moving to Seoul, temporarily leaving him. Then, at the age of thirteen, Jungwon moved to Seoul with you as a trainee. Looking back, you didn’t even stop to ask him if that was what he really wanted or if he even wanted to live in Seoul. You just took his word as it was and didn’t even question it.

You ruined your brother’s life; you just hope there is still time for you to fix it. To make amends. To be his sister again.

The familiar sound of his door unlocking rings in the silent hallway. Jungkook is the only one on this floor, given he lives at the very top of the building at the penthouse. You push the white door open, greeted by a corridor and an array of shoes and slippers on the shoe rack on the side. You take off your sneakers, place them neatly beside the rack and make your way down to the corridor to find Jungkook, his bare back facing you as he drinks something from his fridge. Black Calvin Klein boxers modestly cover his bottoms.

“I know I’m late, but I’ll do it, Jungkook,” you say. “I’ll marry you.”

“Like you said, you’re late. I already sent the photos to the Chief of the Seoul Police Department anonymously, of course,” Jungkook replies, turning to face you. He looks at you with disinterest in his eyes. “So you can leave now. You’ve made your choice and now you have to live with the consequences of it.”

Your heart sinks in your stomach. “Are you—Are you serious? Did you really send the pictures to the police?”

“You think I was bluffing the entire time?” Jungkook laughs. “You underestimate me, Y/N.”

This can’t be happening. You walk towards him over the counter. “Jungkook, please, don’t. He’s just a kid. Prison won’t do him any good and fuck—the public. Please. He’s already going through enough as it is. Please don’t let him go through this.”

“He’s twenty, Y/N. He knows what he’s doing,” Jungkook deadpans. “Leave. I’m sure you would want to be there once the police arrest Jungwon.”

“Jungkook, please,” you hold his arm, pleading. “I’m sorry, okay? For breaking up with you, for leaving you, for not appreciating your love and devotion to me. I’m sorry for everything. Please—punish me instead, hm? Leave my brother alone. Please.”

You don’t even know when you got on your knees while holding onto Jungkook’s arm and sobbing, head hanging low. “Please, Kook…”

Jungkook turns to face you, causing your arms to fall on your side. He lifts your head by your chin with his index and middle fingers and you stare at him through your oval shaped spectacles. He wipes your tears with his thumbs then grazes one over your lips, making you taste the salty liquid.

“You’re so pretty when you’re on your knees, begging, and crying, baby…” Jungkook trails, putting more pressure on your lips. “Things didn’t have to go this far if you just did everything I say, right?”

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yes, you’re right.”

His lips twitch, but he stops himself from breaking into a smile. “Why do you have to be so stubborn, Y/N? It’s not a good trait to have when you become my wife.”

My wife. Those two words send shivers down your spine. “I-I won’t be s-stubborn anymore. Please don’t let them arrest Jungwon. He’s so young and he’s still got so much to live for.”

Jungkook hums. “Yeah? So, you’ll do everything I say from now on?”

You resign to your fate. “I will.”

“Then put this mouth to good use and suck my cock, you fucking slut.”

The switch is on. You take a deep breath, shutting your eyes as you grab the waistband of his boxers. He’s already hard and leaking with precum. Did he get turned on by you begging and crying on your knees? The thought repulses you, but you shake it away. This is your fate now.

His cock springs free from his boxers, and you wrap your hand around the base, before licking your lips, and wrapping it around his tip—slowly licking his precum while you jerk him off. You try to focus your mind elsewhere to make Jungkook feel that you want this. So, you settle on the times you actually wanted to suck his dick and make him feel good.

Jungkook gathers your hair in his hand, eyebrows furrowed as he looks down at you moving your pace in a quicker manner, swirling around your tongue on his tip, and length. He finds the sight of you sucking his cock while wearing those glasses incredibly hot.

Once you’ve adjusted your mouth to his side, you begin to deepthroat him, making Jungkook hiss in pleasure and tighten his grip around your hair, tugging on it as you go deeper every time.

“Look at me,” he orders. You look up at him while you continue to suck him. “Keep your eyes on me while I fuck your throat, okay?”

You nod and he smirks as he thrusts in your mouth once. You make another gag noise. Jungkook begins to relentlessly pound your mouth, throwing his head back in pleasure. You hold onto his muscular thighs, breathing through your nose as you close your eyes momentarily but Jungkook catches this and taps your cheek.

“Told you to keep your eyes on me, right? It’s like you’re asking to be fucked hard every damn time,” he says through gritted teeth.

So, his pace becomes faster. About a few more thrusts, Jungkook announces that he’s gonna cum but while you expected to swallow his cum like last time—Jungkook pulls away, jerks his cock with one hand while the other remains on your hair. He pulls your head back as his cum squirts all over your face.

The white liquid is all over your glasses and Jungkook wipes some on your lips using the tip of his cock.

“Just pretty,” he says as you hear a camera snap. “I think I’ll make this my new lockscreen.”

You feel humiliated and disgusted as he lets go of your hair and types something on his phone. You get up on your feet, take your glasses off and stare at it covered in Jungkook’s cum. You lick your lips and taste the salty substance. Jungkook then places his phone on the counter and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulders.

“I’m happy you’re finally back to your senses. I can’t wait to marry you, love.”

“Can I tell my brother first before announcing it to the public?” you ask, lowering your head as you fight the urge to cry. “I just don’t want him to find out on the news.”

“How are you going to do that? Jungwon doesn’t want anything to do with you. That’s why he left your apartment, right?” You stiffen at his remark. Jungkook chuckles. “Baby, did you really think I would keep my eyes off you even when you’re not with me? I love you. I love you so fucking much that the thought of you not anywhere near me makes me go crazy. So, I had to do it—I had to put cameras around your apartment to see you, to protect you, to know if you’re bringing some bastard home and then kill him before he can even scream for help. That’s how much I love you, Y/N. Who else is going to love you like I do?”

“Y/N noona! What are you doing here?” Sunoo, one of Jungwon’s members and friends, greets you with his infectious smile as he opens the door to their dormitory. “Come inside, please.”

“Thanks Sunoo,” you tell him with a smile as you take his offer and enter. Leaving your shoes at the doorway, you ask Sunoo, “Is Jungwon around? I was hoping I could talk to him.”

“Yes. He’s in our room. Would you like something to eat or drink, noona? Jay hyung is cooking something in the kitchen,” the dark-haired boy offers.

You reach their living room and sure enough, you smell something sweet in their air. “It’s okay, Sunoo. I don’t think I’ll stay long anyway. Is it through here?”

Sunoo nods. “Yes. Second door to the right.”

“Thank you,” you tell him before making your way down the short corridor and knocking on the second door to the right.

“Come in!” you hear Jungwon exclaim on the other side. You take a deep breath before opening the door and seeing him lying on one of the bunk beds, scrolling through his phone. “Is the food ready, hyu—Noona? What are you doing here?”

You give him a small smile, shutting the door behind you and remaining on the spot beside it, hands behind your back. “Is it okay if I talk to you? I have something I want to say.”

He sits on his bed, placing his phone beside him. “I don’t really want to talk, but since you’re here, what choice do I have?” His tone is harsh and irritated which you expected.

“I’ll make it quick then. I wanted to let you know before you see it on the news anywhere that Jungkook and I—we’re getting married. We’re engaged.”

His eyebrow furrowed deeply. “What? I thought you two aren’t together anymore.”

You inhale deeply, lips pressed tightly. “We got back together and now we’re engaged.”

“Why?” he asks, genuinely confused.

“Why not?” you quip, hoping to lighten the tension brewing between the two of you.

“I don’t know, noona, maybe because it’s marriage. It’s serious. Have you thought about this? Like really thought about this?”

“Yes, Jungwon. I have,” you say, hoping your tone is convincing enough—for your brother or for yourself is still up for debate. “It’s what I came here to tell you.”

Jungwon sighs deeply, shaking his head. “What the fuck.” You don’t blame him for his reaction. You watch as he runs his fingers through his hair then lifts his head to look at you. “When is the wedding then?”

You press your back against the cold wall behind you. “Not sure yet but it’s going to be within this year, for sure.”

He nods. “This doesn’t make any sense to me. How can you break up with someone, get back together with them, and then marry them?” He lets out a small laugh.

Your heart clenches and your eyes soften. “Jungwon,” you call out softly. “I’m sorry for everything. For not being a sister to you all these years. I just—I thought I was doing the right thing, but I never stopped to consider your true feelings about everything.”

He breathes in sharply, rising from his bed. “We’re not doing this here, noona.”

Your eyes shake as you bite your lower lip. “Please Jungwon? Please let me make it up to you.”

“How? By marrying my senior? Did you even stop to think about how this will affect not only me but the other members as well? It’s bad enough that you dated him, noona. We’re still suffering from hate because of your relationship. Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you? How can you be so selfish all the fucking time, noona?”

Selfish. One word that stabs you over and over again the more it echoes in your mind.

“Leave. Now. I don’t want to speak to you ever again. I will be as professional as I can, but that’s all we’re ever going to be. Professionals. You’re not my sister anymore. We’re not family anymore. We’ve never been one in years anyway. From now on, just stay away from me unless it’s for work. I—,” Jungwon stops and then shakes his head one more time. “Just go, Y/N.”

BTS Jungkook and Yang Y/N are engaged

In an Instagram post uploaded by BTS member Jungkook, 26, he announced that he is engaged to his long-time girlfriend, producer Yang Y/N, 26.

“I fell in love with you the moment I met you and now, I can’t wait to fall in love with you more as my future wife and mother to our children,” The youngest BTS member said in the caption of his Instagram post featuring several photos of Yang and him throughout their years as a couple. “I am excited to begin this new chapter with you and to explore all remaining chapters until the end where we’re wrinkly and old, surrounded by the family we’ve made through the years.”

Jungkook also shares a message to his fans, ARMYs. “To ARMYs, I know this might come as a shock to you as I am the youngest in Bangtan, but for those who have been with me from the start, I’m sure you know that I’ve always been someone who wears my heart on my sleeve. I hope to have your love and support on this new journey in my life as you have always given me through the years.”

The ‘Seven’ singer ended his caption by thanking his fans, his members, and Yang Y/N. “Once again, thank you ARMYs, thank you to my hyungs, and thank you to Yang Y/N for accepting me as her partner for life.”

Jungkook and Yang Y/N have been together for four years before getting engaged. Yang serves as one of BTS’ producers, producing some of their songs including ‘Hold Me Tight’, ‘Fire’, ‘Ma City’, ‘Spring Day’, and their latest comeback ‘Run BTS’, among others. She has also worked on Jungkook’s solo album particularly on songs ‘Yes or No’ and ‘Seven.’

You don’t think you’ve seen this many people gathered in a hall. You’ve lost count on how many times you bowed and shook hands with the guests Jungkook invited to your engagement party and your face hurts from the fake smiles you’ve put on for everyone. From his family to his industry friends, to the executives of Hybe and those of his and Bangtan’s endorsements to all artists at the company, including your brother who is seated beside you, and staff of Hybe—it seems like everyone is here tonight.

Jungkook hasn’t let you out of his sight since the night began, always having his arm around your waist, tattooed hand placed conservatively on your hip or on your thigh when the two of you are sitting down. He’d constantly caress your thigh and place soft kisses on your cheek, behind your ear, on your shoulder, and even on your neck for everyone to see. He plays the doting fiance very well; the maniacal shadow is completely hidden tonight.

You don’t know how he managed to put this party together, but you’re not surprised either. What Jungkook wants, Jungkook gets. His persistence is unmatched, as you regretfully realized later rather than sooner.

It’s when Jungkook is suddenly whisked away by the CEO of Calvin Klein that you take the opportunity to excuse yourself, saying you need to use the restroom. Despite the warning state in your fiance’s eyes, you give him a small tight-lipped smile before making your way out of the hall and towards the stairs leading up to the rooftop of Hybe’s building—a sanctuary you go to whenever you feel the world on your shoulders. You grip on the railings tightly, hair blowing backwards by the chilly October air, creating goosebumps all over your body. You could hear your own heartbeat and feel the tightness of your chest as you take deep breaths to prevent yourself from spiraling into a panic attack. You don’t even remember the last time you experienced one, but when you’re finally alone—everything sinks in.

You’re getting married to Jeon Jungkook. Your own brother despises you. You’re completely on your own. The moment you walk down the aisle, you’re forever trapped in the insanity that is Jeon Jungkook. Suddenly, all the worst case scenarios plague your mind and your heartbeat races quickly more than ever before.

You should have seen the warning signs. It’s been there since the day Jungkook started showing his more than friends affection towards you. Hindsight is, indeed, twenty-twenty, and now you’re reaping the false belief you sowed about the man you once loved.

You should have known that his persistence and devotion in courting you after you rejected him for a multitude of reasons are not acts of love, but obsession. That his efforts from courting you—giving you your favorite flowers every single day, his good morning and good night texts, and planning your dates—were just acts of love bombing to exploit your already growing feelings for him.

And when you finally said yes and he announces your relationship to the public, despite your repeated protests that it was too soon—it wasn’t to show his fans, the public, the industry, and the entire world that he was proud to be in a relationship with you or to set a precedent in normalizing dating in the industry; it was to show them that you were his and his alone.

By the time your rose-colored glasses shattered, it was too late. You’ve already entered the lion’s den and there is no way out.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” At the sound of the familiar husky voice of Kim Woosung, you turn around, eyes wide, one hand tightly gripping the railing while the other placed over your right chest. His sharp features soften at the sight of your panicked state and he cautiously makes his way towards you. “Y/N? Is everything okay?”

You open your mouth, but the words don’t come out. Your entire body feels rigid. You want to cry, to scream, to run as fast as you can away from all of these—but you remain on your spot, mute. Woosung presses his lips as he now stands mere inches away from you. The smell of his favorite cologne fills your nostrils.

“You don’t have to say anything, but if you need a hug, if you need a friend, I’m right here, Y/N. I’m always going to be right here,” he tells you softly, meeting your wide gaze.

You want to reach out to him, to accept his offer of a hug, but you don’t want to take your chances. You don’t know how long you’ve been gone, but knowing Jungkook—even a minute is long enough. It’s only a matter of time before he goes out and find you. You cannot take the risk of him seeing you with another man, especially Woosung, someone he’s already voiced out he’s jealous of.

With that thought, you come back to your senses. You exhale deeply, licking your lower lips as you shake your head. “I-I’m fine, Woosung.”

“Okay,” he replies, nodding slowly. “I just saw you dashing out of the hall, looking frantic, and I got worried so I followed you out.”

“Yeah, I guess, um, I guess I just feel overwhelmed by all the people in there,” you say.

“I can see that. I didn’t even know you can fit that many people inside the hall,” Woosung chuckles, placing his hands on the cold railing. For a while, the two of you just stand in silence, letting the breeze and the bustling city below you fill in. Then, Woosung breaks it with a heartbreaking tone saying, “Don’t marry him, Y/N. Please don’t.”

You’d be a fool not to admit that since you met Woosung three years ago through Yoongi, you’d been oblivious to his affections for you. He wasn’t exactly subtle about it, but he was also respectful of your relationship with Jungkook that he didn’t try to impose himself on you. Then, when you broke up with Jungkook, he took the chance to finally confess his feelings for you.

Woosung is the complete opposite of Jungkook. He’s gentle, he’s kind, he respects you and your boundaries, he makes you laugh, he makes you feel secure, and his affection towards you doesn’t feel suffocating. A walking green flag, as they call it these days, and in another life where you have the freedom to choose who to love—you’ll love him. But alas, this is your life now.

“Woosung, please don’t,” you breathe out, hanging your head low as you shake it. “I’m going to marry Jungkook.”

“You don’t love him, Y/N. I know you. I see you. You don’t love him because why would you be here if you do?” Woosung points out, his tone remaining level. He’s not one to raise his voice; he’s always calm and composed. Another thing that makes him different from Jungkook.

“Woosung, let’s go back. Let’s not talk about this anymore,” you say as you turn around and make your way to the door.

“Marry me instead,” he declares behind you. You stop on your tracks, breath hitches. “If it’s marriage you want, marry me instead, Y/N.”

You look at him over your shoulder. He’s standing in the same spot, but facing you with the moonlight and fluorescent lights shining on his honest and genuine face. You take him all in with your eyes—dressed in a pair of black pants, shoes, satin dress shirt, and a black coat over it. His hair’s longer now, but still black and messy. A silver necklace adorns his neck and through his unbuttoned top, the tip of his cross tattoo on his chest is peeking.

You shake your head.

He takes a deep breath as he slips his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to the side as he shuts his eyes. Then, he nods as he traces the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Alright. I understand. But Y/N, can you just—can you look me in the eye and tell me marrying him, being with him is what you really want? Can you do that for me and I swear, I’ll let go of all my feelings for you by the time the sun rises tomorrow. But if there’s even a slight doubt, please be with me instead.”

“I don’t deserve you, Woosung. I’m sorry. I can’t,” you tell him.

“What are we doing here?” you ask Jungkook two weeks later. It’s late at night, past midnight, and you’re being led to the back of Ignorantia, a club at Gangnam which you know Jungkook is an investor of, followed by several of his bodyguards. He’s dressed in a black dress shirt with yellow floral prints on it, black jeans, and his signature black boots.

“I told you, I wanna show you something, baby,” Jungkook replies, looking over his shoulder to flash you a smile.

Eyebrows scrunched, you decide not to say anything more until you reach the end of the corridor and one of Jungkook’s bodyguards opens the door. “After you, mi lady,” your fiance chuckles, feigning chivalry by lowering himself as he extends his arm out toward the room.

The moment you enter the room, your entire body is coated with unprecedented fear. Tied to a metal chair, bloody and bruised, is none other than Kim Woosung. The door behind you slams shut, making you jump, and with frantic eyes, you turn to Jungkook. “What is going on here?” you ask.

At the sound of your voice, from the corner of your eyes, you see Woosung lift his head—albeit painfully. You don’t wait for Jungkook’s answer and rush to Woosung’s side, kneeling in front of him as tears pool your eyes at the sight of his beaten up self. But Woosung being Woosung, he plasters a small smile on his bloody lips. One of his eyes is already swollen shut, but you know he’s looking at you.

“I’m sorry, Woosung…” It’s all you can say, shaking your head as you stand on your feet, wiping your tears with the back of your hands. “Stop this. He hasn’t done anything to deserve this, Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s expression remains cold and stoic. He’s standing a few feet across from you and Woosung, hands deep in his pockets. “He brought it upon himself the moment he asked you to marry him instead and you considered.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m marrying you! For fuck’s sake, Jungkook, this has gone way too far. Stop this insanity already. You’re hurting innocent people!”

“Trying to take another person’s belonging doesn’t make you innocent,” Jungkook hisses, pulling his sleeves up to his elbows. His bodyguard hands him something metal and you watch as he slips on the brass knuckles in both his hands. “I know none of us here are Catholics, but since he’s got that cross tattooed on his chest, maybe Woosung knows to some degree that one of the Ten Commandments is thou shalt not steal, am I right, Woosung?”

Jungkook begins to walk towards the weak Woosung and you step in front of him, breathing heavily. “Jungkook, don’t do this. He’s done nothing wrong. Fuck, please, just let him go. You already have me. What more do you want?”

“I want this fucker to know that you’re mine and I want you to fucking carve it in your head that you’re mine!” he bellows. “Now step away. This is the last time I’m asking nicely.”

When you refuse, Jungkook pushes you aside, making you land on the floor. This triggers Woosung to muster whatever strength he had left to let out an animalistic growl before prancing at Jungkook only for the latter’s brass knuckles hit his face. You scream for Jungkook to stop, but his bodyguard traps you with his strong arms, and you’re forced to watch as Jungkook mercilessly lands punch after punch at Woosung’s face and body.

“Fuck!” Jungkook yells as he lands one final punch at Woosung’s face which you don’t even recognize anymore before stepping away from him, panting. He faces you—Woosung’s blood covering his face and with a maniacal smile plastered on his lips. He drops the brass knuckles on the floor then he gives a signal to his bodyguard to let you go.

Once you’re out of the bodyguard’s grip, you lunge at Jungkook and repeatedly hit him while sobbing, screaming all profanities that you can think of. He doesn’t stop you and let you hit him wherever you want. Then, the exhaustion takes over and you fall on your knees before him.

“I’m done playing nice. I guess being nice doesn’t really get you the respect you deserve. How naive of me,” Jungkook says after a while. He lowers himself to meet your eyes. He grabs your face and forces his lips on you. You push him away, slapping him as you taste Woosung’s blood on your lips. A lopsided smirk appears on his lips. “Jo, can you bring our other friend inside? I think it’s time for Y/N’s punishment.”

“Yes, Mr. Jeon.”

Moments later, you perk up at the sound of a very familiar voice echoing in the room. You stand, heart sinking in your stomach as you see Jungwon with his hands tied behind his back and duct tape around his mouth. A gun is pressed against his temple. His eyes are wide and terrified, and once they meet yours, a muffled sound comes out of his taped mouth. You believe he said ‘Noona!’ Jungwon struggles against Jo’s grip and Jungkook traps you in his.

His hot breath fans over your ear as he whispers, “Time to choose, Y/N. Which one would you rather save? Jungwon, the brother who has already disowned you? Or Woosung, the man who loves you? You can’t have both—that’s just the rule of the world, my love.”

“Why are you doing this?” you sob, shaking your head.

“Because you need to learn who is in control,” he tells you. “Because you need to learn what happens when you so much as think of another man other than me. Because I want to be the only one you think about. And frankly, because it’s fun. Seeing you cry, begging for mercy—it makes me so hard, don’t you feel it?”

You, unfortunately, do feel his erection. It makes your stomach churn. “Then please stop this, Jungkook. Don’t make me choose. Let them go and I will be the perfect wife to you. I will do everything—quit my job, move wherever with you, do everything you want me to do. I’ll live the rest of my life being devoted to you and you alone.”

He hums in your ear, pressing his clothed hard cock more in your ass. “That sounds lovely. But you still need to choose otherwise both of them will die tonight.”

“No, no, no, please. Please don’t make me do this,” you beg.

Jungkook begins counting down. “Ten, nine, eight, seven…”

“Stop! Please! Don’t!” you thrash in his grip as he continues counting.

“Six, five, four, three…”

You break. “Two—,”

“Jungwon! I choose Jungwon,” you exclaim, limping against Jungkook’s chest.

“Good girl,” Jungkook whispers in your ear, placing a kiss on your earlobe. “Come here, baby. Time for you to act out your choice.”

Jungkook turns you to Woosung’s beaten body on the floor. He’s still breathing, seeing his chest rising. You don’t know if he heard you choose Jungwon over him and the thought is too much to bear. No matter how goodness he has in his heart, would he be able to forgive you for your decision? Jungkook places a gun in your hand; the coldness of it makes you jump. He chuckles, wrapping his hand around yours on the handle before he guides you to point it at Woosung.

Behind, Jungwon is screaming.

“You just need to pull the trigger, baby, and everything will go back to the way it was. Remember, if you don’t do this now, it’s Jungwon’s funeral.”

“Y/N…” Woosung manages to croak out as he coughs out blood.

“Sung…” you call out, sobbing once more. “S-Sorry… Sung…”

“I l-love y—,”

Bang! You scream at the loud sound that echoes through the room and Woosung is no more.

Growing up, you never really pictured or imagined how your wedding would look like. You didn’t even think about getting married in the first place, having been exposed early on to the harsh realities of life, and forced to enter the workforce when you were only fifteen to make ends meet. Your life revolved around work, Jungwon, more work, and more Jungwon. Now, as you stare at yourself wearing a custom made traditional Vera Wang white satin tube wedding gown with a long veil trailing behind you, and holding a bouquet of baby’s breath and white roses, you’re overwhelmed with the implications of what is about to come.

Today, you’re marrying Jungkook in front of hundreds of people inside a huge garden and more people watching in the comfort of their own home because Jungkook allowed for the ceremony to be broadcasted nationwide and internationally as witnesses to your holy matrimony. In a few minutes, you’ll be walking down the aisle with your brother by your side and your fate will be ultimately sealed in front of the thousands of people watching the ceremony. Suddenly, the rest of your life flashes before your eyes.

A life of loneliness, isolation, servitude to Jungkook and all his needs. You’ll no longer be Yang Y/N, the music producer. You’ll now be Yang Y/N, Jeon Jungkook’s wife. A decade of hard work and sacrifices down the drain—all because you let yourself naively walk a lion’s den. Not only that, you also got an innocent’s blood on your hands.

Five months had passed since that night and yet the memories are still as vivid as if it’s only yesterday that you pulled the trigger that ended Woosung’s life. Woosung, the man who loved you unconditionally. Woosung, the man who loved you until his dying breath. You can still hear his voice in your head at times, still get flashes of the image of his face—both the ones where he was smiling and alive and the one where he was beaten to a pulp and ultimately killed with a gunshot.

No one besides you, Jungwon, Jungkook’s bodyguards, and Jungkook himself know the real reason why Kim Woosung is dead. Jungkook’s connection ran deep with the police that until now, his death was still unsolved, a speck of dust in the myriad of cold cases in the district of Seoul. He had forced you and Jungwon to attend the funeral and it fucked you and your brother up, watching as his parents, especially his mother, broke down at the fate her son suffered.

It didn’t help that his mother went to you and told you Woosung had spoken so highly of you every time, both as a friend, a colleague, and a person. You threw up afterwards. Jungwon, on the other hand, was traumatized. He formed night terrors, having to go in an indefinite hiatus from his group activities and be checked into a psychiatric facility for attempting suicide.

It’s only now, on your wedding day, that he’s been given permission from his psychiatrist to be let out. His nurse keeps an eye out on him the entire time along with a security guard in case he tries to kill himself or escape. You know they’re appointed by Jungkook, but fortunately, they are far enough for you and your brother to have some privacy.

“You don’t have to do this, noona,” Jungwon whispers as he stands beside you. He’s dressed in a black suit, hair neatly styled, showing off his handsome features. He significantly lost weight; you can easily tell by his hollow cheeks. “You can run. We can run. We can go abroad and tell the truth to the public.”

“I’m afraid this is the only way, Won,” you say, hanging your head low. “He’s got eyes and ears everywhere. There’s no place in the world that we can go and hide. He’ll find us eventually and we’ll be doomed.”

“But you can’t stay with him too,” Jungwon is desperate, terrified now. “Noona, he—he killed Woosung hyung.” His tone is barely above whisper when he says those words.

“I know,” you reply. Then, you lift your head and smile at him, wrapping your arm around his shoulder. “Don’t worry about me, okay? I’ll be fine. I’m going to be alright. Just focus on you, okay?”

He suddenly hugs you, burying his face in the crook of your neck like he always did when he was little. You hug him back just as tight, squeezing your eyes tight. You don’t want to think that this may be the last time you’ll get to be this close to Jungwon, but your gut says otherwise. So, you take all of him in and hope that he feels all your love, all your apologies, all your care at that moment.

“I love you, noona. I’m sorry for being a bad brother.”

You shake your head. “No, you’re not. I’m sorry for not being the sister you needed.”

“No, noona—,”

“No, Jungwon, I recognize it now. Everything you said that night—how I scolded you for not practicing with the other trainees and attending your taekwondo lessons, for never saying you did well even when you did because I didn’t want the others to see me as being biased, for not telling you Jungkook and I were dating, for being everything but a sister to you, I’m sorry. I failed you, Won, I’m sorry.”

“Noona, please, I don’t want you to die,” he cries. “He’ll kill you, I just know it. He’s done it before.”

“Shh, I won’t let him. I’ll stay alive, so please promise me that you will, too, okay Won?” You hold his face in your hands and he nods. “We’ll get out. Someday. I’ll get us out.”

“Ms. Yang, we’re ready for you.”

You nod at the assistant of the wedding planner. Then, you and Jungwon follow her out of the hotel room you’re staying at, then ride the elevator down to the VIP parking where the white Mercedes-Benz bridal car is waiting for you. Immediately after stepping inside, the driver drives toward the wedding venue. All the time, Jungwon holds your hand. There are no more words spoken between the two of you, aware of the prying eyes and ears. The drive isn’t that long and soon, you find yourself at the entrance of the grand garden—where fans and media gather behind the barricades. Upon seeing the bridal car, they erupt into a frenzy.

You meet your brother’s eyes and squeeze his hand. Trust me, you want to say, and hope your eyes are expressive enough to let him know. He nods and he steps outside the vehicle. He helps you out afterwards, and all you hear are the screams and the resounding echo of the media’s frenzied camera shots.

The assistant leads you and Jungwon up the stairs. Then, she instructs you both to smile, bow, and wave at the fans and media outside before continuing your way upstairs. There’s a courtyard that you pass through before you reach the door where everyone is waiting for you.

“We have arrived. Stand by in two minutes while we retouch the makeup of the bride and her brother,” the assistant speaks through her microphone. Once the makeup artists are finished retouching yours and Jungwon’s make up, she gives the signal that you’re ready, and you hear the familiar melodies of the traditional wedding march. “Ms. Yang, Mr. Yang, you may enter.”

You tighten your grip around Jungwon’s arm and he holds your hand as the doors open, revealing the vast sea of people on either side of the aisle. With each step, you see familiar and unfamiliar faces of people. There are the Hybe artists, seniors and juniors, the executives, Bangtan’s staff since their debut, Bangtan themselves, some of Jungkook’s industry friends—Jung Jaehyun, Cha Eunwoo, Kim Yugyeom, Bambam—his parents, few close relatives, his brother and his wife. Most of them, however, are strangers to you.

You don’t even realize that you and Jungwon are walking slower than the beat. At that moment, only the two of you are in sync. Neither of you wanted to reach the end of the aisle where your groom is waiting dressed impeccably in a custom made three-piece Louis Vuitton black and white suit, dark long hair slicked back, piercings on. There is no denying his god-like beauty as he stands tall and proud at the altar; beside him is Yoongi, his best man. His dark eyes watch your every move. His gaze is the only one you can feel on you.

You know he’s challenging you. Walk slower, he probably thinks. You’ll end up beside me anyway. And you did. You reach the altar and Jungkook takes your arm from Jungwon whom he also gives a hug and a firm handshake. You don’t fail to notice Jungwon’s rigid reaction. Jungkook doesn’t care and he wraps your arm around his as he leads you to the center of the aisle where a priest awaits to officiate the wedding—or to you, your lifelong sentence.

The beginning of the ceremony is a blur to you. The priest went on about how sacred marriage and how everyone is gathered to witness your union. Then, the vows come. One of the staff of the wedding planner hands Jungkook a microphone as you face each other. He pulls out a piece of folded paper from the inside pocket of his coat, unfolds it, clears his throat, and begins his vow.

“Y/N, the first time I met you was when we were fifteen years old. I had just debuted and you came to BigHit as a producer. At that moment, I knew you were the one,” Jungkook smiles at you. “But I was too scared to make a move, partly because we were just starting out our careers and dating was a no-no; mostly because I thought I wouldn’t have the chance. You were smart, beautiful, responsible, independent, and work was your life. But the more we got closer, as producer and singer, as people, as friends, my feelings for you just grew.”

He continues. “Then, five years later, I finally had the courage to tell you how I feel, and I won’t lie—when you turned me down, I was heartbroken. I thought all the pain I felt before was incomparable to how I felt when you told me you couldn’t be with me. But as most of the people here know, I’m a very persistent and determined man. I wanted to show you that my love for you was sincere and deep so I did everything to get that ‘yes’ from you. And my god, I was the happiest man in the universe when you finally said that and in the best way you know how—by saying it through a song.”

“I know the beginning of our relationship isn’t easy for the both of us. Back then, it felt like the entire world was against us. But I wanted to thank you for staying despite the despites, for choosing me. Thank you for loving me.”

“Now that we’re starting the next chapter of our lives together, I vow to always love you seven days a week,” the crowd erupts in laughter and he cheekily sends them a smile. “I vow to be with you wherever you are, to be completely and utterly devoted to you for the rest of my life. I vow to be the best husband to you and father to our children. I vow to always be by your side and for you to always have my heart. Y/N, love, I vow to be yours until the end of time.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to burst. You know the guests are probably eating up every single one of his words, interpreting them as ‘sweet’ or some shit like that, but all you can think of is how calculated every word he is. How every word is not a vow or a promise, but a threat.

When it’s your turn to say your vows, you read what he wrote. Every word feels heavy on your tongue. But nothing is as heavy as the next words you’re about to speak.

“Do you, Jeon Jungkook, take Yang Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife? To love and cherish her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better for worse, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her, for so long as you both shall live?

He wastes no time to answer. “I do.”

The priest turns to you. “And do you, Yang Y/N, take Jeon Jungkook to be your lawfully wedded husband? To love and cherish her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better for worse, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her, for so long as you both shall live?”

Your chest rises heavily. The priest waits on your answer. You can feel Jungkook’s eyes burning holes on you.

“I do.”

“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest happily announces.

You and Jungkook face each other and he takes the veil off your face. He places his warm hands on your face and just before he places his lips on yours, a ghostly smirk appears on it. Then, he seals your fate with a kiss. The crowd erupts in cheer. You are now Jeon Jungkook’s wife.

━━ “You wrap around me and you give me life.” END

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