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#the man that u are kim seokjin
scribblemetae · 11 days ago
*Mischievously rubbing her hands* Hi, yes.. I got a Mr. Kim Seokjin with a side of ultimate handsomeness to go.. Is this your order?
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(Credit where is due, I don't own this gifs and images)
We hope you enjoy your order! Thank you for shopping with us! 🥰 If you have any complaints, talk to management please.
Hes so fucking hot. I used to see his as nothing but a brother, I had no sexual interest in him and now he's all I can think about. I'm being wrecked. Like DESTROYED.
The first one... him in war of hormone OFT baby makes my hormones wild and I wanna be his gift.
The next gif and picture are perfect together, that neck, that fucking everything, I wanna nibble it all and then lick him all over
Then we have our softy and I wanna snuggle.
and then we have MORE NECK, and chest and the necklace I have never seen that gif and boy does it make me wanna DO THINGS
His long hair 🤍🖤
SHOULDERS Like... my legs would look so pretty thrown over them 🥺
Thinking man Jin and THEN GLASSES JIN 👓
I'm now a full drenched mess and I'm not sorry.
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floralseokjin · 14 days ago
⤑ made-up love song drabbles
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A glimpse into Soojung and Taehyung’s life 
kim seokjin x reader (or should I say kim taehyung x baek soojung 🤣)  warnings; discussion of seokjin’s potential micropenis (I’m so sorry for disrespecting u like this king)   words; 925
Takes place during chapter v
↪︎ read the series here / and drabbles here
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“What do you think they’re doing right now?” 
Taehyung looked up from his phone, shrugging at Soojung who was lying in bed next to him. “I don’t know. It.” 
Soojung hummed in agreement and Taehyung took that as a sign for his eyes to fall back to his screen. The conversation must be over now. It had been ongoing since he’d dropped by four hours ago. 
“Do you think I should text her tonight or wait until tomorrow?” 
Taehyung sighed. Silly him, they were still talking about Y/N’s sordid week. “I think you should wait until tomorrow.” He shrugged again, only slightly this time. “But then again, maybe she’ll be AWOL for the whole week. They have like what, two months of fucking to catch up on –Oww!” He immediately brought his hand up to his arm to rub the sting of Soo’s backhand. “What was that for?!”
“That’s my best friend you’re talking about.” 
Taehyung grumbled. “She’s my friend too. Besides, you’ve been talking about them fu– doing it,” he corrected himself quickly, catching the look on his girlfriend’s face, “all night. What’s the difference?” 
Soojung ignored him, she was too busy wondering what the hell was going on at Dilf mansion right now. She’d been excited all week, more than you she’d thought at one point, but then again you’d always been the more reserved out of the two of you. Soo knew that inside you were absolutely ecstatic – not just about the sex, but also your budding relationship with Seokjin. Yes, she liked to tease and be dramatic, but above all else, she was over the moon for her best friend. You deserved so much happiness after everything you’d been through in recent years. 
Those were her thoughts, but out loud she said, “I bet he’s amazing in bed. Dilfs always are.” 
Taehyung had to try really hard not to roll his eyes. If she loved older men so much, maybe she should go and find one for herself. “Didn’t you say he’s been a lone ranger since he got divorced?”
Lone ranger? Seriously, Soojung thought. “You’re not supposed to know that. Besides, you don’t exactly forget how to have sex. Especially when you look like him.” 
Taehyung’s phone was long forgotten now. “You do realise that just because the man’s good looking it doesn’t mean he knows how to fuck.” What type of logic was that? “He could have a micropenis for all we know.” 
Soojung shook her head adamantly. “He doesn’t.” 
“How do you know that?” 
“Y/N told me.” Soojung couldn’t stop herself from giggling slightly. Like some kind of fricking teenager, Taehyung thought. “She’s accidentally felt it a few times.” 
“God, Soo.” He exclaimed slightly. “It’s almost like you’ve forgotten you have a boyfriend. Who is laying right beside you by the way,” he felt the need to remind. “If you like him so much why don’t you ask Y/N if you can join in.” 
Soojung couldn’t help but burst out laughing, greatly amused. “What has gotten into you?” The pout on her boyfriend’s lips was both amusing and adorable. Was he really jealous? He needed to take a joke. “I thought you liked Seokjin?”
Especially after last weekend. All four of you had such an enjoyable time hanging out. 
“I do,” he replied easily. “I just don’t like hearing my girl thirsting after him right in front of me.” 
“I’m not thirsting after him.” She insisted. “Why would I thirst after my bestie’s man?”
“Bestie,” he repeated. “What are you, 12?”
“I’ll have you know everyone uses it on the internet.” 
“Yeah, if you’re 12.” 
Soojung rolled her eyes playfully, turning towards him with a gigantic smile. He was blind (and deaf) if he really thought she would be interested in anyone other than him. “I love you.” 
Taehyung refused to look at her at first, determined to keep his mouth in a straight line, but there was no way he couldn’t respond. It went against everything he believed in. If he didn’t let Soojung know he loved her at least three times a day then he’d failed as a boyfriend and his mother’s son. 
“Love you, too.” He mumbled it though. He wasn’t letting Soo off the hook that easy. 
She leaned in closer, hands on his chest. “What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.” 
“Get off,” he gruffed as she started rubbing her nose into the crook of his neck, tickling him. It wasn’t long before he was breaking, chuckling quietly as he attempted to lift her face up and kiss her. “I love you, too.”  
Kissing Soojung was his favourite thing in the world. Once he felt her lips on his he swore all his worries and stresses melted away. Every single time. And sometimes… (maybe a lot of the time)… it stirred his dick into action. 
“Wanna do it?” He murmured, pulling back to catch his breath. 
He knew straight away the answer was a no. Her face was so incredibly easy to read, even before she pulled a face. “Eh, not really. I’m tired. This week has been crazy.” 
He whimpered dramatically, letting his head fall back against the propped pillow. “So, what? Y/N gets to have the living daylights fucked out of her tonight and I’m getting cruelly discarded?” 
Soojung’s face lit up, and he knew instantly he’d made a mistake. “Oh, so you do think Seokjin’s great in bed?” 
“I’m getting some water,” he said with a sigh, getting out of bed. It was time to admit defeat. “Want anything?” 
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Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021
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ao3feed-namkook · 15 days ago
the day by day of a dummy in love
read it on the AO3 at
by Anonymous
Namjoon didn’t think that things would end up this way, with Jungkook’s face smashed between his boobs in a testimony of undying love, but he supposes that it’s fate.
Fate had been the cause of many things over the past six days, unraveling the yarn of their carefully crocheted hearts until they were nothing more than two piles of loose string crawling towards each other with limp arms. And now, as Jungkook kisses each of his nipples with the precision and care of a man in love, Namjoon can’t help but think that their yarn is being crocheted together, and intertwined into a bigger, better heart.
It only took six days to take them apart and sew them into something new, something so different from where they had stayed for a year, treading water in a sea of good sex and muddled feelings.
All it had taken was six days.
 or: after a year of sleeping in the same bed as jungkook, namjoon realizes that he might want to be more than friends
Words: 16988, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: M/M
Characters: Kim Namjoon | RM, Jeon Jungkook, Min Yoongi | Suga, Kim Seokjin | Jin, Park Jimin (BTS), Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Kim Taehyung | V
Relationships: Jeon Jungkook/Kim Namjoon | RM
Additional Tags: Friends With Benefits, but not really, University Student Kim Namjoon | RM, jungkook wears suits that’s all u need to know about his profession, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Fluff, Domestic, Miscommunication, Kim Namjoon | RM is a Giant Dummy, like very dumb, Implied Sexual Content, no smut only vibes, nsfw vibes, Misunderstandings, Roommates
read it on the AO3 at
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chaoticpuff17 · 18 days ago
Suga, We’re Going Down
part 15
Hello, my darlings! Here’s an update for you! I’m off to work on the next part of WTCAD! and just a reminder that @chimchimsauce​ released her new book this week. Don’t forget to check it out, you can find the link in on her page. love you all!--- chaotic puff
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If anyone at Jin hit Entertainment had been asked if Min Yoongi was a family man, they would have said no. Min Yoongi was a terror, a quiet one but a terror none-the-less. He was focused, driven, extremely talented, and a famous grouch. A family man was not a description anyone would have associated with him, and yet Kim Seokjin was looking at a nervous manager who was bringing forward some odd requests that the famous rapper had made. The requests included the acquisition of an apartment building and to bring him listings for modernized hanok houses in Seoul. To make this odd business even more strange, Yoongi had asked that they look into primary schools as well. Jin could understand why the poor man was confused and concerned. It was very unlike Yoongi, which was why the young CEO was on his way to talk to the artist 
The problem was to talk to the artist, he had to interrupt dance practice for the new mv, and something about interrupting Yoongi while he was holding a sword was extremely unappealing, but it had to be done. Someone had to ask about the odd requests. Jin was sure that there was some sort of perfectly reasonable explanation, and then they could all move on with their lives. 
“Hey, Yoongi!” Jin called walking into the practice room, only to be met with a dark glare from the man who was quite literally holding a sword. 
“What?” he growled incredibly displeased by the interruption. 
He was moving Y/N into her new apartment today, and Yoongi wanted to be there to help her get settled. She had insisted on doing all of the packing herself, and he knew she was back from classes already and probably hard at work packing up her small apartment. He trusted Jackson with her. He knew he would help her pack up, but that didn’t change the fact that he wanted to be the one to help her. He wanted to finish practice and get out of there as quickly as possible. If he couldn’t help her pack up the old apartment, he could still help her settle into the new one. And flowers, he was going to bring her flowers. She would enjoy that. But Jin wasn’t helping any of these plans come together any faster with his interruptions. 
“Can I talk to you for a sec?”
“No.” Yoongi grunted, brushing back his hair as he glared at his hyung. 
“It’ll just take a minute.” Jin continued on cheerily even though Yoongi was giving him a look that would have sent anyone else cowering. Yoongi sighed, setting the sword aside and going to get a drink of water as he waited for Jin to get to the point. “So one of the managers came to me saying you’d been making some odd requests.” 
“Just wanted to make sure that everything was okay. It’s not like you to buy an apartment building, and you’re looking for a house, schools? What’s going on, Yoongi?” 
“She has a kid.” Yoongi grunted, flopping down onto the floor for a break while Jin stared at him as though he’d suddenly grown a second head. 
“Who has a what now?” 
“Y/N, she has a kid.” he repeated. “Toddler. Cute little bugger.” 
“She has… a child?” Jin repeated pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration as he tried to take in the new information. “Did you know about the kid?” 
“Found out on Saturday.” the other man shrugged, seeming remarkably unbothered especially considering the magnitude of what he’d just said. 
“And you’re buying a whole apartment building and a house because?” 
“Kid’s dad is harassing her.” 
“Okay?” Jin didn’t want to push too hard, but getting information out of the rapper could be like pulling teeth. 
“She needs a safe place to go, her and the kid.” 
“So you bought an apartment building?” Yoongi nodded. “Then what’s the house for?” 
“House is for her and the kid.”
“You said the apartment was for them.” 
“House is for all of us. Eventually.” 
Jin was dumbstruck as the implication of those words hit him with full force. Min Yoongi, the surliest son of a bitch he knew, had a family. He’d taken a sugar baby, and suddenly he had a whole family. He’d accepted another man’s child to the point he was planning a future around the kid and his mom. 
“It’s not hers.” Yoongi grunted seeing the older man’s head about to burst. “Not biologically. It’s her nephew, but he’s hers now.”
That made a little more sense to Jin. “And the birth dad is harassing them?” 
“Showed up at the park by her house without notice. Really freaked her out.” 
“She didn’t tell you about the kid?” Jin asked, sliding down next to Yoongi. He needed to sit if he was going to have this conversation. 
“She took the job to take care of him. Her family’s not in a good way.” Yoongi explained, taking another drink of water. “She was trying to protect the kid.” 
“And you’re okay with this?” 
Yoongi shrugged, thinking fondly on his angel and their kid. “She’s a good mom, and he’s a good kid.” 
Jin nodded along, still trying to wrap his mind around this. “And the kid actually likes you?” 
Yoongi scoffed, but a small smile tugged at his lips. As soon as the kid had decided that he was fine, the kid had been absolutely fascinated by him. It was painfully clear to both him and Y/N that the kid didn’t have a lot of men in his life. That was fine though. He had Yoongi now.
 “Why wouldn’t he like me?” 
“Cause you’re a grump?” Jin suggested, playfully bumping the other man’s shoulder. “Got a picture.” 
Yoongi looked at him in surprise, but he grabbed his phone pulling up a picture of Y/N and Eun Jae he had snapped on Sunday afternoon when the pair had fallen asleep on the couch for an afternoon nap after Eun Jae had run them both ragged around the penthouse playing princesses and dragons all afternoon. Eun Jae had been the brave night protecting the princess, and Yoongi had been made to be the dragon trying to steal Y/N away from her protector. Eventually the little guy had worn himself out, and the family had settled on the couch for a snack and an afternoon cartoon, before both mother and son had drifted off. Yoongi hadn’t been able to resist snapping a picture of his small family. 
“He’s a cute kid.” Jin smiled, handing the phone back to him. It was odd to see Yoongi with a family, but even if the indicators were subtle, Yoongi seemed happy. 
“Yeah.” Yoongi agreed. “He looks like his mom.” 
“So the house and looking at schools and everything, it’s all for them?”  Yoongi nodded. “Alright then.” Jin clapped, nodding resolutely. “That clears things up. When do they move into the apartment? And when do the guys and I get to meet the little guy?” 
“Y/N moves into the new apartment today. Eun Jae is going to be with her grandmother till Friday, and you idiots don’t get to meet him.” 
“What!” Jin squawked , highly offended. “Why not? We’d be awesome uncles!”
Yoongi growled under his breath. “She’s skittish about the kid, and I won’t have you idiots freaking her out.” 
“Freak her out! How could I freak her out? I’m world wide handsome, you know? And I’m great with kids!”
“Not the point, Jin.” 
“I wouldn’t freak her out!”
“She has every right to be skittish, and I get more time with my kid before you idiots start crowding in.” He huffed, bopping the other man over the head with the empty water bottle. 
“Alright, alright.” The CEO surrendered. “Congrats, man. You seem happy.” 
“I am.” 
“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off. Go help your girl get set up in that fancy building you bought for her.” 
Yoongi nodded gratefully as the older man got up from the floor complaining about old bones. He was more than ready to get out of JinHit and go see his angel. He had all sorts of surprises ready for her at the new place, some he could show her and some he couldn’t.
He had the apartment furnished for her, getting some better quality appliances and furnishings for her. His family could only have the best after all. He’d even had the kitchen stocked in preparation for the move. He’d gotten a bunch of new toys and things for the kid too.
 Those were all things that he was excited to show her, but he knew better than to tell her that he owned the building, or that he had her entire security team living in the building as well. He knew what she’d say about that. She’d argue that it was too much, that it was unneeded, but he didn’t want to take any chances with her safety or Eun Jae’s. He even had a guard keeping an eye on the kid while he was at the grandmother’s. She’d certainly have something to say about that, but she didn’t need to worry over that. Their safety was his concern now, and he’d do whatever it took to protect his angel and their kid. 
With Jin letting him leave early, Yoongi was more than ready to go see his angel. He needed a shower first, but then he was free to go help her settle in. A quick text from Jackson had told him that she was already at the new building. A text from one of the bodyguards he’d hired to look after her had told him that Kim Taehyung had also been trying to keep an eye on her- trying and failing. Yoongi wasn’t about to let him get close to his family, especially not when his relationship with his kid was still so fragile. He hadn’t even known there was a kid in the equation till a few days ago, and he didn’t need the sperm donor showing up and confusing Eun Jae on who his father was.  For now, the little boy was safe with his grandmother, who Yoongi had been reliably told was a battle axe of a woman who wouldn’t be letting any strangers or anyone from the Kim family anywhere near that little boy. 
Yoongi got to the apartment to find Y/N preoccupied stringing up a set of bumble bee lights around the living room. He’d ordered a ton of stuff for the apartment, all things that he thought would be warm and comforting for her and the kid. It was colorful and bright, and ten times better than her old apartment. It had enough space for Eun Jae to play and for Y/N to do her schoolwork all while being within the safety of a building that Yoongi owned and staffed. The front desk had been given Taehyung’s photo with strict instructions not to allow him into the building. He wasn’t getting near either of them so long as Yoongi had anything to say about it. 
“Miss, you should really let me.” Jackson fretted hovering around Y/N as she put the lights up, making sure she didn’t fall. 
“I’m fine, Jackson.” she rolled her eyes. “I am perfectly capable of  putting up some lights.” 
“You could fall!” Guessing from the harried voice of his employee, Yoongi could guess that this wasn’t the first time that Y/N had refused to let him help today. 
“I let you put up the paintings!” 
“The paintings were already here when you got here!” 
“Eh.” she shrugged. “Someone who wasn’t me put them up.” 
“Babe,” Yoongi called, startling both of them and accidentally causing her to lose her balance on the sofa as she spun around, but Jackson was quick to catch her and equally quick to set her down again and excuse himself. 
“I wasn’t expecting you.” she muttered, shuffling from foot to foot. 
“Wanted to help you move in.” he smiled, stepping forward to place a quick, soft kiss to her forehead. “How do you like the place?”
“It’s too much. We really didn’t need something this…” 
“You did.”  he cut her off, holding out the bouquet of hydrangeas. 
“They’re lovely.” she smiled, a little tiredly, but it had been a busy day for her. “Let me get these in some water. I assume that’s what the vases are for?” He smirked following after her as she moved around the apartment. “You didn’t have to furnish it. You’ve already done so much for us, more than what we agreed upon.” 
“I wanted to,” he shrugged. “Besides, we need to renegotiate the terms of the contract anyway.” 
She turned to him with wide eyes, clearly nervous by the thought of renegotiations. “Nothing bad. Eun Jae puts a new light on things. I want to make sure that you and he have everything you need, give you both some more security.” he assured her. 
“You’ve already…”
“It’s not up for discussion, angel.” her mouth clicked shut immediately as she nodded. “Don’t look so grim, babe.” he laughed, tipping her chin up. “It’s just a few little things to take Eun Jae into account.” 
“He likes you.” she sighed, letting her sling an arm over her shoulder and steer her back towards the sofa and the half hung string of lights. “There’s not a lot of people that run around with him like that.” 
A swell of pride rose up in his chest at that. “I like him. He’s a good kid.”
“It’s nothing major right? The changes to the contract?” 
“No.” he pressed a kiss to her messy hair. “Nothing major.” It was just a few things to ensure their future, nothing she needed to worry about right now.
“Thank you again, for everything.” she sighed, sinking into the sofa and curling slightly into his side. 
He hummed, tugging her in a little closer. It was cute how she thought that this was big. It was nothing in the grand scheme of things. This was just the beginning for them, and this little apartment was no place for them to raise a growing family. 
“Anything for you.” 
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chimtaesty · 2 months ago
Moonlit Destiny - Prologue
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pairing: princess!reader x king!jin / 2.5k words
warnings: angst, violence, anxiety, strong language, trauma
plot: marrying a king of a far away country seemed to be your biggest problem, but gradually falling in love with a man who is deeply hurt and isn't able to control his rage turns out to be more troublesome.
A/N: hi! It's been a while. I've worked on this work for a long time and i'm super happy that i'm able to release it. I hope you somewhat like this hot mess and you stay tuned for future parts and other works of mine.
comment down below if u want to be added to the taglist :)
masterlist / story masterlist
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Being the princess of a western country never felt like a blessing. People treat you like a saint. They trea you with such delicacy, afraid of upsetting you, more or less running to your father, the king, to snitch on them. You never got anywhere close to the kids on the streets outside of your castle, friends are something unknown to you.
Your father has been your only true friend. He treats you with kindness, ready to protect you when needed. But at exactly this moment of time, you see nothing of that. You desperately search for the man who promised to protect you when you were in danger.
The person who is givng you away to the king of a country called korea isn't your father.
“This is my daughter Y/N, she is the princess of this land and my second child. I want to offer her hand in marriage to you. Please accept the offer and form a great bond between our kingdoms.” the tall man in front of you looks nothing like a man who would accept such an offer, now that you look at him again, he doesn't look human at all.
His eyes fall on you. His inspecting stare makes your cheeks flush red, for some unknown reason. His broad shoulders and flowy gown makes him look out of this world. He looks eatherel. The foreign language leaves his mouth with ease, even the way he talks makes him elegant. You admire the way he sounds. In a matter of seconds your brain starts to work again. You aren't supposed to be mesmerised. You are supposed to hate this man, hate your father for practically selling you off to a foreign country. Yet, you can't help it. Your curiosity takes the upper hand again. You wonder what the women there looked like.
If they wair their hair as long as the men or if there are castles and mountains in his country. Other countries and their way of living has always interested you to some extent. “He wishes to talk to the princess in private, your majesty” the translator says. Your eyes shoot to your father. He has one more chance of changing his mind. Keeping you here, in your home country where your family was. Yet deep down you know, he won't.
“As you wish, King Kim. We shall leave the room to let you get to know each other. I would like to talk to my daughter beforehand.” Everyone, including the foreign king, leaves the room to give your father and you space to talk comfortably. “How could you?” You almost scream. “How dare you give me to a foreign man like a bouquet of flowers. I’m a human being, father. I’m your daughter. I thought you loved me and you wanted me to stay in our country. I knew you would have to marry off to another kingdom sooner or later but to another country, a country we have never been to? Why are you doing this?” he looks at you with sorrow in his eyes. He doesn't like the idea of you being so far away either.
“I’m deeply sorry, my daughter. But we have to think of our kingdom. What I'm entrusting you with is the wellbeing and growth of our country. Having connections in a far away land is a good thing. I am sorry for throwing you into cold waters but this is the only way of assuring our growth around the world.” you stare at him with your mouth open in shock. What in the name of god is he talking about? “So your only concern is this godforsaken country. It is more important than your only daughter?” he sigs and takes a step closer to you.
”Watch your mouth, darling. We don’t spew insults towards the almighty. I know you are angry and you think that my decision didn’t include your benefits, but that is not the case. I know that you find the unknown mesmerising and that you are able to adapt quickly. I’m not sending you away because i don’t want you near me, no, i’m sending you to his kingdom for a much bigger purpose. Your duty is to assure and hold the connection between our countries and be a queen that no one has ever seen. Be the woman you want to be, be a leader alongside a king. Here at home you won’t have a chance to be a queen since your brother is meant to be the next king. I want you to be happy and safe, so please do me this one favor and be his wife.”
You can't find any words to counter him. Your anger escaps your head as fast as it arrives. You don't know what to say. Tears leaving your eyes as you lean your head against his chest is the only kind of reaction you are able to give him. “I’m sorry for yelling at you, father. I will be alright” he nodds and chuckles lightly as he embraces you in a tight hug. “I know, Y/N. I know you will be alright. You are like your mother after all”
Your mother died while giving birth to you. She gave her life for you and you are forever grateful for her sacrifice. Your father never blamed you for taking his beloved wife from him since he assured you that your life was the greatest gift he ever received. He treated you with the kind of love that any other child deserved.
After your heartfelt conversation he left and sent your soon to be husband and his translator into the room. Your heart pounds against your chest as he seemingly hoveres over the floor. You have never seen a person walk so elegantly. He starts to talk, this time with his eyes on you. “My name is Kim Seokjin, I’m the ruler of the country South Korea. I’m the oldest of seven brothers. It’s nice to meet you” he bows to you as the translator stopps talking. You don't quite understand and gave the translator a questioning look. “It’s an action of respect. The king doesn’t bow to just anyone. He bows only to his parents. Show him your respect, princess.” he whispers your way.
You nodd and copy his action. “My name is Y/N Y/LN and i’m the daughter of King Y/LN and i’m the princess of this land. It’s nice to meet you too.” Seokjin nodds and smiles at you. His appearance seems nice and kind. You hope that he is the same in his country. He takes your hand in his and whispers something unknown to you. “Your hands are beautiful” you hear and blush lightly.
The King flicks his wrist and the translator is fast to walk towards the doors. The other people fill the room again as Seokjin doesn't let your hand leave his. He smiles at your father as he makes his way towards you two. “My dear daughter, as I can see you two grew closer” you wouldn’t say that you two grew closer. You know his name and where he came from, that’s all of the knowledge he would give you. Yet he seems like a man who would treat you better than any man in this land could. He didn’t ask any uncomfortable questions or touch you in any uncomfortable way.
Your brother finds his way behind you to whisper in your ear “I talked with one of his people, he is a wanderer, he said that the emperor is a kind man. He treats everyone with their rightful respect, nonetheless he holds grudges. As long as you stay on his good side or even make him fall in love, you will have it good, my dear sister” you nodd. You are determined to take this chance and be what you always knew you were meant to be, a queen.
That night you don't sleep. Hours before you went to sleep your father ordered your maids to pack your belongings. Seokjin guaranteed your father that you wouldn’t need any your clothes since there would be more than enough provided for the queen. You bid goodbye to your soon to be husband with a low bow, just as you learned, to elicit him a bright smile.
Your brain is running miles as you want nothing else than fall asleep. You swing your legs out of the bed you are laying in to get up. You left your bedroom with quiet footsteps. As you stand there, in the hallway, staring out of the window down at the sleeping city you don't hear the nearing footsteps. A small yelp escapes your mouth as a big hand grasps your shoulder.
The figure next to you holds his hands out in a non threatening manner and you immediately know who scared you to your bones. Seokjin can't sleep either. He tries to comfort your shook form in the best way he can, plagued with the gigantic language barrier. He points towards the dark sky “달 (dal)” You try to understand what he meant. “Moon!” you gasp and he nodds as you point at the same thing. “넌 달만큼 예뻐 (neon dalmankeum yeppeo) (You are as pretty as the moon)” he whispers towards you. You don't understand what he says. Something in his eyes made him look more saddened than happy. The question of what happened to him plastered your mind.
So you two stand there without talking, not that it bothers you, you don't understand each other anyways.
The next morning you are woken by one of your maids and Seokjin’s translator. “My king has advised me to teach you his language. He wishes for you to understand him” he insista as you dress yourself. “He wants you to know about his culture and traditions, I hope you are willing to learn, princess.” he smils as you make your way to him. You nodd, of course you are willing to learn. What kind of Queen can lead a country without knowing it anything about it. “I would love to, but please call me Y/N” you smile at him and he nodds back at you before bowing.
Yonghee, you got to know his name, teaches you some words before breakfast. He tells you about the beautiful clothes, the food and the right behaviour in their country. He is persistent in etiquette of bowing to elders or more powerful people “The second reason won’t concern you since the only more powerful person is going to be your husband.” he said. Still, you would bow to his parents, you told yourself.
Yonghee gifts you an astonishingly beautiful headpiece. It is a golden little branch with sparkling stones. Tiny pendants tangled at the ends of the tiny branches. You have never seen something so beautiful in your whole life. “Wear this to breakfast, don’t forget what i taught you.”
He walks you downstairs to the big hall where your father prepared your goodbye feast. There he stands, in a now blue robe. You wouldn’t have used the word robe if you knew a word to describe this beautiful piece of clothing. Your feet stopp in front of your father and Seokjin. “Father, King Kim” you bow to Seokjin and test what Jinwoo taught you “안녕 좋은 아침” (annyeong joh-eun achim) (Hello, good morning)
His face lights up as he hears his language leave your mouth. “좋은 아침입니다 공주님” (joh-eun achim-ibnida gongjunim) (Good morning, princess) he answers with small smile. You don't understand the last word he uses, but you will soon.
“It’s lovely that you show such enthusiasm to learn his language, my dear daughter. Come take a seat and enjoy your last breakfast at home” he gestures to you to sit down.
Your heart burns slightly as you reach the harbor. This is the moment of you leaving your country and possibly never returning. Seokjin sitting across from you in the carriage doesn't really help either. Something about his stare is unidentifiable . He looks like he is searching for something, but what is he expecting to find in your face?
Before you take a step onto the big shiff you bid your father and brother goodbye. You promise to be what your father had envisioned for you. This is your life now and you should do your best to live it to the fullest.
It has been a little over a week since you left your home country. Seokjin has been exactly the same as you met him with the only difference that he would never initiate any more physical touch other than holding hands. You had picked up the basics of his language, enough to hold a conversation with him. He was a very closed off person. He didn’t like talking about his past or who the queen before you was, you knew that much. The time you asked him he would get unimaginably angry. He didn’t talk for a whole day.
So you took it upon yourself to find out what happened to the former queen. Yonghee sits at the very front of the ship reading a book. “Y/N, nice to see you. Do you seek more information about our country?” he asks. You shake your head and sit yourself next to him. “What happened to the last queen?” his face goes pale and he starts to fidget with the book in his hand. “I can’t possibly tell you..-”Oh, please. I won’t tell anyone. I just want to know what happened, do I have to be worried?” you ask with worry in your voice. You would like not to be killed by your husband any time soon.
He shakes his head “He’ll behead me if he ever found out that i talked about this-”Yonghee, i wouldn’t let him hurt you. Please tell me what happened.” you plead and he sighs. “Thank you for your protection, Princess. You must promise me that you’ll never tell him where you know of his first wife off, okay?” you nodd your head
“His first wife ,Eunbi, was a traitor…”
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1kook · 2 months ago
⇢ meeting three
jeon jungkook x (f) reader
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⇢ series masterlist
summary: Jeon Jungkook (he/him) was just a nice young man with a kind personality and a handsome face, a Keroppi plush on his bed and a sleek guitar behind his door. Your crush? No way. genre: fluff, slice of life, eventual smut warnings: medium burn, mutual crushes, college au, quarantine fic, ditzy but studious jk, oc is a lil nerdy, dreamy jungkook, use of the zoom app, mentions of homework, oc is thirsty, mentions of Kim Seokjin ratings: e for everyone <3 wc: 3.8k
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notes: as always, ty to rumu for looking this over n fixing any illogical parts <3 anyway here’s zoom jk being the loml :) lmk what u think!!!
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After a grueling week of online classes, the weekend finally arrives. Unlike the last, you don’t have the liberty of free time anymore, can’t outline this week’s due dates as neatly as you’d like. It seems like after the initial week of reading syllabi, your professors really start to lay it on thick with the assignments, and this Zoom semester is no different. Saturday is spent double-checking your first round of assignments before turning them in, combing through all your carefully named files until you find the right ones to submit. 
You receive a text message from Jungkook, sweetly reminding you that there’s an assignment for your shared class due on Wednesday. It’s a kind and greatly appreciated gesture, and you don’t really have the heart to tell him you’ve already submitted it, instead choosing to respond with a peppy thank you! It has him sending a blushing smiley face back. Unsure how to respond, you leave it at that and head to bed. 
By the time Monday rolls around, your professors have gotten into the swing of things. The previous internet and camera checks are forgone as you jump right into the material. Your fingers dance across the keyboard as fast as they can, desperate to capture every last word that leaves your professor’s lips. Much to your dismay, the professor for the class you share with Jungkook chooses to lecture that morning. For multiple reasons, you find it absolutely sucks. 
Your professor, as well-meaning as he may be, has a rather monotonous voice that threatens to pull you under the tempting blanket of sleep once more, the sight of your mattress a few feet away practically begging you to snuggle back in. It takes everything in you to power through it, rapidly blinking your eyes at your bright computer screen as if that’ll somehow magically snap you out of your drowsiness. On top of that, he still leans in way too close to the camera, giving you and all your other classmates a front row seat to his unruly nose hairs. (He’s a nice teacher, you remind yourself, two seconds away from exiting the meeting all together.) Lectures also usually mean no group meetings, a fact you had delighted in the first few class meetings before you had actually been assigned to your group. Jungkook still shows up that day in a cute striped shirt that almost— and you mean almost —has you missing the Breakout Rooms. 
You would not fold for a pretty face, you chide yourself. 
It’s your mantra for Wednesday as well, when you are rudely greeted with the sight of Jeon Jungkook without his glasses on the second you enter the meeting. If you thought his eyes were pretty before, you were really in for it now. 
Again, no Breakout Rooms. It’s a win for the side of you that hates group work, but it somehow still feels like a loss. Jungkook speaks a lot during the discussion, and you get to hear his cherry sweet voice as he discusses the intricacies of female existentialist writing. His speech is littered with an abundance of uhhhs and likes. Yet somehow, they don’t lessen the legitimacy of his understanding of the text; he manages to deliver his thoughts in a way that simplifies the rather difficult topic into an understandable, and frankly accessible, language. Even you, who had admittedly found the reading just the teensiest bit confusing, find yourself feeling greatly enlightened after his explanation. 
It’s not entirely unexpected. 
Over the course of the past few class meetings, you’ve occasionally watched as Jeon Jungkook (he/him) frantically scribbled in his notebook, his writing utensil frequently switching from pencil to highlighter to pen. From the looks of it, he seemed to keep an organized notebook, the extensive highlighter collection leading you to believe that his note-taking system is much more intricate than your regular college student’s.
It’s a little amusing watching him during class, as more often than not it was the top of his head facing the screen as he took notes. Occasionally, when he looks up, his glasses are at the very tip of his nose, making it look longer and thinner in an almost comical way. He’s always quick to push them back up, followed by a practiced shake of his head that sends his dark waves bouncing all over the place. Sometimes he’ll even run his fingers through it, pushing it away from his forehead before letting it flop back down. He’s handsome however he styles it, which you think is a little unfair. 
And then finally, it’s Friday again. 8AM finds you sitting at your desk, rubbing the crust out of your eyes as you wait for class to begin. Your professor does his customary greeting, reminding you all to access the class page for today’s group work before sending you off once more. 
In accordance with his usual solid-colored tops, Jungkook appears before you today in a black long-sleeve shirt. You’re spared from insanity today, his round glasses returning to provide you at least some sort of relief from his sparkly galaxy eyes. 
“Good morning!” he says, as lively as ever. It’s the second good morning you’ve heard him give today, but unlike the first that had been aimed at your class as a whole, this one is more personal. His exuberant smile is aimed at you, that same broad beam that showcases his perfectly pearly teeth. 
“Good morning, Jungkook,” you greet in return, offering him the nicest half-grin, half-grimace you can manage at this ungodly hour. If it’s more grimace than grin, Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind as he goes about organizing his notes. 
As always, he wastes no time. “Did you do the reading? I thought it was kinda boring,” he begins, eyes focused on his materials before him. You navigate to your own digital notes,  remembering to hum in between the pauses of Jungkook’s sentences. It's a rather soft sound that the microphone barely picks up, your outlined Zoom box the only indicator that it was audible at all. To be fair, you don’t think Jungkook is even listening. When you tune back into his rambling, he’s talking about his friend. 
“Oh, and Jin says this is an easy class,” Jungkook mentions, and you’re pretty sure he’s talking just to talk, the very bottom of his Zoom window giving you a peek of his prepped materials. There’s a pen in his hand, one he twirls and clicks as he speaks. “But Jin’s kinda old— he took this class, like. Four years ago? Maybe. Is the professor even the same?”
An opening presents itself after Jungkook’s rhetorical question, and you quickly squeeze yourself into it. “Who’s Jin?” you ask, propping your elbow up onto your desk. 
Normally, you wouldn’t indulge in trivial conversations like this, especially not when there was a group assignment due in a little less than an hour. But, for the first time in a long time (read: your entire academic career), you find yourself feeling oddly serene in the presence of a fellow student. After so many years of shitty group projects, it was nice to know that there was finally someone in your group who was as prepared and determined as you. 
A few sidetracked conversations wouldn’t do you any harm. 
“Oh, man,” Jungkook sighs. For the briefest moment, the easygoing expression that usually adorns his features is replaced with a playful grin, his tongue prodding against his cheek as he thinks of his friend. It’s less like the polite Jungkook you’ve come to recognize these past few weeks, and more like all the other college guys his age, more mischievous than usual. You suppose it’s a look reserved only for his friends, who know him inside and out. It disappears just as quickly. “Jin is my friend,” Jungkook explains, reverting back to his more familiar and good-natured smile. “He was also my first-year mentor.” 
You nod, tapping your pen against your lower lip. “Ah,” you say for lack of anything else. 
A normal person would take your monosyllabic response as an excuse to focus on the work at hand. Not Jungkook. 
“You’ve probably seen him,” Jungkook explains, and then, in the blink of an eye, slams his hands down against his tabletop. It makes his little Zoom window appear shaky for a second, and you almost miss the way his dark eyes bug out. “Hold on!”
And then he’s standing up, his handsome face moving out of view as he leans over. Presumably, he’s reaching for something behind his computer, out of your range of sight. 
What is in sight however, is this bright blue pair of shorts he’s got on, the material threatening to ride up his thighs if he strains himself any further. You allow yourself three good seconds of ogling before pointedly looking away, face warm as you burn holes into the door of your closet. 
But the thing about Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is that he attacks on all sides. 
“Oh, fuck,” he sighs in frustration, the throaty sound of his voice followed by the shuffling of objects, the clattering of something else. 
It’s not what it sounds like, you make sure to remind yourself, fearful that your brain will spiral any more than it already has. Jungkook groans, stretching himself over to grab whatever the hell it is he is determined to show you. All the while, you make a mental checklist of all the assignments you have to do that weekend. But your mind is like a broken record, clipping the soft exhales that leave Jungkook’s lips and looping them over and over. It couldn’t have gone on for longer than a minute, maybe even less. The agonizing song comes to an end with a bang. Or in this case, a sharp little gasp from Jeon Jungkook (he/him). 
“Here it is,” he announces, unceremoniously plopping back down onto his seat. The movement and weight of his body send him rolling backwards a few inches, the hair that frames his face bouncing along with him as he scoots closer to his desk again. 
You offer him a tight-lipped smile. For some reason, something in your brain tells you to play it cool, to not let Jungkook know how much his presence shakes you. 
Luckily you don’t have to hold your faux smile for too long, because then Jungkook is brandishing you a slightly worn, slightly torn school pamphlet, tapping his index finger against the cover. “This is Jin,” he tells you, one tattooed finger pointed at the cover star of your school’s high school senior recruitment pamphlet. You know this because it’s the same face that had greeted you during your high school visit, the chiseled features that had made even your mom swoon as you toured around the campus. 
“Kim Seokjin?” you blurt out, eyebrows shooting to the sky as you process the fact Jungkook had been talking about the renowned campus prince Kim Seokjin, the same man that had single-handedly had your entire freshman orientation section lusting after him. He had walked these campus sidewalks years ago, ate in these dining halls, studied in these study rooms— he was nothing short of a legend. Sadly, Kim Seokjin graduated when you (and Jungkook) were still in your first year. “He’s your friend?” 
“Yup,” Jungkook says, moving the pamphlet away to the camera to reveal his own handsome face. And suddenly it all makes sense: Seokjin was pretty and Jungkook was also pretty. Pretty people tended to attract each other like flies to fruit. He pauses. “You know him?” 
The truth is that you do not know him personally. Kim Seokjin, with his godly proportions and friendly smile, had once held the hearts of every dweeby freshman in the palm of his hand. He was a frequent topic at the sleepovers you attended, girls on your floor who were high on the adrenaline and excitement that came with living away from home for the first time. They were nights filled to the brim with gossip and giggles, relationship talk and the like. And Kim Seokjin and his rather charming boyfriend-like aura always seemed to appear at least once in every conversation. 
You know of Kim Seokjin, a past campus prince who had, you now realize, trained an heir. 
Said heir chooses now to attack. “Actually,” he starts off, setting Seokjin’s pamphlet to the side carefully. You’re not sure if it’s your own computer screen playing tricks on you or what, but you swear Jungkook blushes, rubbing at the back of his neck in what you’ve now learned is a nervous habit of his. “I was on the cover for one of these things too,” he confesses, and then, beneath soft curls, spares you a shy glance. “Wanna see?”
“Yes,” you respond, intercepting his question with the speed and agility of a trained wide receiver who has waited their whole life for this moment. It’s embarrassingly fast, to say the least. 
But you can’t help it! Not when Jungkook’s small pink lips pull into that cute smile that makes him look like a little cherub, or when he rewards your eagerness with that second shy habit (the adorable tilt of his head to the side, toffee strands swaying to the side) of his. “Okay,” he says, offering you one last grin before he’s abruptly standing up again. 
The embarrassment doesn’t truly hit until he’s out of sight again. This time, you don’t even get to marvel at the thickness of his thighs or the breathy sigh he releases, because you’re swimming in a bottomless pit of your own mortification. How could you let yourself be so swayed by a man?
Your assignment tab is sitting open, the screen on your laptop split in half with Jungkook’s adorable Zoom window and your internet browser. The responsible student in you says to call Jungkook back quickly and try to get your work done, maybe save face by doing that. But the side of you that had read too many 16 and Tiger Beat magazines growing up feels ditzy and silly in front of her crush—
Which he is not! Jungkook was definitely not your crush or anything of the sort. That notion of ‘crushes’ and ‘like like’-ing someone was just terribly juvenile. You were a grown adult, on the cusp of graduating from a respectable institution with a highly sought after degree, your place in the job market practically secured. You didn’t have time for tween fantasies like crushes. 
So Jungkook was not your crush. Jeon Jungkook (he/him) was just a nice young man with a kind personality and a handsome face, a Keroppi plush on his bed and a sleek guitar behind his door. Your crush? No way.
“Look,” Jungkook says, the slightest bit breathless from stretching over his desk a second time. He plops back down, holding a different, newer pamphlet up beside his face cutely. “It's me!” he smiles. 
(You were in trouble.)
True to his word, Jungkook is indeed on the most recent recruitment pamphlet. Decked in a striped knitted sweater and button-up, your school’s insignia over his heart, it’s like you’re staring at a Gap model and not your sweet classmate who’s a little too close to the camera right now. “Wow,” you say, breathless. It must have been at the start of last semester, you’re sure of it. Because his hair is shorter and his skin is tanner, like he just rolled up fresh from a lifeguard job. (Knowing Jungkook, you wouldn’t doubt it.) He’s still so pretty, looks like the type of young man parents would love to meet. It’s fitting for a school pamphlet, especially one aiming to draw in new students and their families. 
“Cute,” you say, because he is. 
Jungkook beams. “Thank you,” he chuckles, eventually putting it down. He smiles at his desk, and then at you, and then back at his desk. It’s devastating. 
“Um— our assignment,” you rush out, coming to the sudden conclusion that if you let this drag on any longer, you’ll spend all night just admiring Jeon Jungkook and his soft, doughy cheeks. You just know they’d be good for pinching and poking.
Which isn’t the point now, you remind yourself, schooling your features. You have to realign your systems for a moment, your axis having tilted from respectable young adult to dorky teenager in the span of a few minutes. Jungkook doesn’t notice, eyes turned down at his notes with the tiniest little smile still on his face. Focus!
“Uhhh,” Jungkook hums, one long note he holds out as he rearranges his notes, not once wavering. Meanwhile, you find yourself scolding the thundering of your heart as you reach for your own notes. “Right! The assignment,” Jungkook exclaims, presumably having gathered the correct materials. 
You’re not sure why you rushed into it, because with your and Jungkook’s brains combined, it’s done twenty minutes later. And then you’re really in a pickle, debating whether or not to leave the Zoom call or stay just a bit longer. According to your professor, you’re free to leave the meeting as soon as you and your partner finish your work. But technically, class doesn’t end for another ten minutes, and you’re not sure if Jungkook is aware of the sweet, puppy eyes he sends you through the screen. “We’re done?” he asks, as if he wasn’t the one who had answered the majority of the last question, leaned back with a loud and relieved sigh that signified its completion. You nod. Jungkook pouts, “aw.”
The cogs and springs in your brain are a mess, rolling and bouncing around the place, leaving you like a broken cuckoo clock that just keeps repeating Jungkook Jungkook Jungkook over and over again. In an effort to cover that up, you chuckle, hoping it doesn’t sound as strained as your ‘dealing with disturbingly handsome men’ meter feels. “All done,” you announce, mostly to yourself, having decided it was best to leave now for the sake of your heart’s wellbeing. Somehow, you find it in yourself to flash Jungkook a smile. “I’ll see you next ti—“
“D- Do you like movies?” Jungkook blurts out, eyes wider than usual, their round appearance magnified by the lens of his glasses. 
You pause, mouse hovering over the red Leave button on the corner of your screen. Jungkook’s imploring gaze keeps you from leaving. “I do,” you confess slowly, the tiniest bit cautious. 
At your response, Jungkook’s lips quirk to the side, a brief smile that is quickly brushed away as he begins his usual style of rambling information. “Um, well, my friends and I watch movies over Zoom!” he explains, talking a mile a minute as usual. “Cuz, you know. We miss each other,” he laughs, and there’s that nervous tick again, his sleeve slipping down to reveal a pretty tattoo on the inside of his wrist. He meets your gaze. 
Years of schooling your expressions and regulating your heartbeat could never have prepared you for this, for the tender look Jungkook sends you through the computer. It’s intercepted and warped by the technological medium between you, transformed into a dulled and pixelated version of the real thing, a fact which is neither his nor your fault. But the quality of the image doesn’t matter, not when Jungkook’s eyes glimmer with hope as he asks, “would you like to join us?” Quietly, a rather unexpected tone from him. You’re used to the energetic and talkative Jungkook, who tells the class about his weekend and wishes everyone to stay safe. Not this Jungkook who pauses and waits for your answer like a sweet puppy, eyes so wide and endearing.
Admittedly, it takes a lot of strength for you to find your voice again, still taken aback by the twinkle in his eye when he looked at you just now. “Um, well I’d have to see when,” you admit. As much as your heart wants you to say yes, your brain is quick to remind you that there’s homework to do and notes to review. You pause and do a quick run through of your schedule this week, highlighting any remotely free moment as you await Jungkook's response. 
“Saturday! At night,” Jungkook says, and if his eyes were wide before, they’re practically cartoonish now. He’s leaning forward again, a gesture you’re beginning to understand he does a lot when he’s excited. As if he’s trying to get closer to you. “We usually meet around seven, and then talk for a little to pick a movie. It’s really fun! Well… for me. But maybe it can be for you, too!” 
Saturday, you curse, which is tomorrow, which is the day you usually dedicate to turning in all your assignments. It allows you to experience the rest of the week in comfort, going to and from class without worrying about turning in something that night. It’s a technique you’ve been fond of since your freshman year, watching in amusement as your classmates and friends scrambled to turn in their work right as it was due. 
You’d hate to break tradition— especially one that keeps you so well organized and calm —but Jungkook is looking at you much in the same way he had looked at Kim Seokjin’s pamphlet just a few moments ago. In other words, he’s looking at you like he would a treasured friend. It’s that same revelation that has you agreeing without much further convincing. “Sure,” you hum, nearly blinded by the radiant look on his face when the slightly delayed audio reaches him through his speakers. “I’d love to.”
“Great!” Jungkook beams. “I’ll text you the details,” he decides, offering one resolute nod that has his hair bouncing over his forehead once more. “This is so exciting,” he laughs, hastily sweeping up his notes into a messy pile that he evens out on his desk surface. “My friends are nice— well, Taehyung is a little quiet, and Namjoon talks a lot. But I think you’d like them! We might watch Wall-E tomorrow. My request,” he pauses, “unless you don’t like animated movies? I can ask them to change it! Since you’re my guest.” Despite its simplicity, the last sentence visibly flusters the two of you, staring at each other over the Zoom call with wide eyes. 
You were Jungkook’s guest. It’s a phrase that cycles through your thoughts only about one hundred times in the span of three seconds. “Um, no, it’s fine,” you reassure him, breaking away first to pretend like you need to adjust something off camera. “I like Wall-E.” 
Jungkook hums and then, with lightning speed, leans close to his computer and says, “can’t wait to see you tomorrow, __. Byeee!” before quickly exiting the call.
With Jungkook gone, you find yourself acutely aware of the heat in your face. Your lonely Zoom window provides you with a slightly pixelated reflection of your expression, a sight that has you abruptly slapping your palms against your cheeks. “Get it together,” you murmur, navigating your way out of the call before your professor pops in here and catches you with that lovesick look on your face. 
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1kook · 3 months ago
card swiped (3)
→ jeon jungkook x (f) reader
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→ Now, Jungkook was never one for romance, far from the sappy type. But why couldn’t he word it more softly, gently? He wasn’t just trying to fuck you, he was trying to… make love.  GENRE romance, smut, teensy angst WARNINGS eventual smut, mentions of sex, virginity plays a huge role OTHER college crushes, childhood friends to lovers, besties to lovers, volleyball player!jk, student council pres!oc, seokjin is 32... and a a coach lol<3 RATING m (18+) WC 1.5k
NOTES (!) seokjin being a hot 32 year old <3 jk gets progressively more dumb as it goes, prayer circle <3 lmk what u think !
[ masterlist ]
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The truth is, the reason Jungkook doesn’t lie that much is because he’s terrible at it. 
His mother had found out soon enough who put that dent on the car after a slip-up at the dinner table. His high school coach had learned he had purposely skipped out on practice after an accidental snapchat and jealous teammate had snitched. And, well. Fifteen minutes after the end of practice finds him sitting outside the gymnasium, a grimace on his face as he considers running back to your room and confessing to all his lies. Admitting he’s still a virgin— which was practically of no use to you —and maybe even revealing his own recently uncovered feelings was the easy way out. 
Thankfully, Assistant Coach Kim Seokjin is there to knock some sense into him. The hard plastic of the clipboard they use to outline their attacks smacks him hard over the head, making Jungkook’s bones rattle from his skull down to his toes as he steps up behind him. He whirls around to glare at the perpetrator, only to come face to face with the aforementioned assistant coach. “Go home,” Seokjin says, twirling the gym keys in one hand. “I’m trying to lock up.”
“What’s stopping you,” Jungkook huffs, tucking his knees to his chest, ignoring the awfully rude manner in which Seokjin nudges him away, foot against his back as if he’s just an annoying pile of cardboard boxes in his way.
“What’s wrong with you today?” Seokjin asks casually, doesn’t sit next to Jungkook on the steps because he’s always been a little too posh. According to Taehyung, Kim Seokjin graduated from some elite university in another country with near immaculate all-around player statistics before Jungkook even knew what a volleyball was. His success and fame in the world of collegiate volleyball is why he never wears the standard-issued slippers around the court, always some high-end, luxury brand. One glance slightly to his left has Jungkook meeting the black stripe of the frequently sought after Givenchy sneakers head on. 
He scoffs, a sound that Seokjin doesn’t approve of if the karate chop he lands on the back of his neck is anything to go by. “Ow,” Jungkook flinches, pushing him away with an irritated sigh before eventually slumping over his knees again because it’s the exact same thing you do to him sometimes. Study nights— dates, his brain supplies now —where he begins gazing off into space are filled with numerous karate chops to the neck in an effort to get him to focus on his homework. “Come on, Jungkookie,” you always tease, playful smile, lithe fingers toying with the corners of the pages in your book in a way that was almost sensual. But then he does a double-take because he’s aware of the rose-tinted lens he’s unknowingly slapped over it, something he would have maybe not noticed pre-realization of his feelings. And even he is shocked by the absolute seductiveness his brain inserts into an otherwise innocent memory. He’s pretty sure you haven’t called him Jungkookie in years— was his brain trying to hint at something here?
Jungkook groans, knocking his head against his knees as a form of self-punishment for his lecherous thoughts concerning his best friend. 
But his show of emotions must move Assistant Coach Kim because, after a moment of trying to concuss himself against his own knee, there’s a hand placed on his shoulder that makes Jungkook pause. He doesn’t even bother turning around, just throws his head back to look at Seokjin upside down. He’s got a double chin from this angle. “It’s a girl, isn’t it,” his coach sighs, looking at Jungkook with what can only be described as an unimpressed expression. 
“No,” Jungkook defends even though it’s true. “Can’t I just be sad for oth—“
“I heard Jimin call you a simp on the way out,” Seokjin says rather bluntly. And then he surprises Jungkook a second time as he throws aside his posh status to sit on the dirty concrete steps beside him with a sigh. “What did you do?” 
See, Jungkook could lie here and prance off to deal with his own problems. Leaving Seokjin and everyone else in the dark concerning his personal life was, honestly speaking, the smartest thing to do. He didn’t mind his volleyball teammates and friends (in this case, his coach), but he also wasn’t too fond of being relentlessly teased throughout the entire five or more hours they spent together almost every day of the week. 
But also… 
If what Taehyung had said is true— that being, if Kim Seokjin is the illustrious bachelor who charmed his way into multiple foreign panties all whilst demolishing the spirits of liberos and defensive specialists in another country —then Jungkook needed to capitalize off his presence immediately. 
So he lays his cards out flat. “I… might’ve told my best friend I’d take her virginity,” he blurts out, turning to face Seokjin. For the most part, the older man doesn’t look too surprised. If anything, mildly amused. Jungkook quickly adds, “while also being a virgin.” 
“You’re a what,” Seokjin exclaims, chokes on his own saliva in an admittedly not Casanova, bachelor-esque fashion that ends with him coughing into his elbow and Jungkook hurriedly patting his back. “You?” Seokjin repeats once he’s composed himself. “Are a— don’t you have a girlfriend?”
Jungkook’s cheeks warm. “No, Coach. I do not have a girlfriend,” he emphasizes, because who knew sharing the details of his (lack of) sex life would be this embarrassing? 
Seokjin frowns. “What about that girl?” he asks, and Jungkook raises his brows. “You know the one. Carries around stacks of papers to sign, goes to all the games. The one who pats you on head all the time.” And he’s talking about you, of course he is, but the insinuation that other people might, maybe, possibly, perceive you as his girlfriend makes Jungkook malfunction. 
“She’s— That’s—“ he sighs, dropping his head down until his chin touches his chest, brushed against the lucky necklace you’d given him two years ago during their first trip to Nationals. “That’s… my best friend.” 
Beside him, Seokjin says, “the one you’re gonna fuck?” 
Jungkook lets out a long exhale. “Yes. The one I’m going to fuck.” And it’s so blunt and crude, not that it’s surprising coming from him, but it’s surprising because he’s talking about you. Now, Jungkook was never one for romance, far from the sappy type. But why couldn’t he word it more softly, gently? He wasn’t just trying to fuck you, he was trying to… make love. 
The thought must show on his face because Seokjin snorts. “Well, good luck.” 
And then he stands up and begins walking down the sidewalk and Jungkook can’t spring up fast enough. “Wait,” he gasps, clutching at his forearm. He feels like a dorky character in those dramas you like so much, the ones you force him into watching every time he comes over. Like he’s some disgraced son looking for his father’s approval. Except Assistant Coach Kim is neither his father nor someone he really wants approval from anyway. 
What he does want is pointers. From an experienced pro, if you will. 
Jungkook has to swallow down all his pride as a man to ask his next question. “H- How do I—“
Seokjin beats to it him with a flick to the forehead. “I’m your volleyball coach, kid,” he frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. “Not your sex coach.” It’s a sensible rejection, one that Jungkook expected, but still. He deflates, let’s the weight of the world and his heavy gym bag nearly knock him onto the ground. 
But Assistant Coach Kim Seokjin is kinder than he lets on and, after one annoyed sigh, let’s him in on the secret Jungkook has been chasing for all his life. (Or, well, for the past few hours since he first propositioned you.)
“The key to impressing your partner is to always act like you know what you’re doing,” he tells him, arms crossed over his shoulders. It’s night now, the campus shrouded in darkness. But Jungkook swears a heavenly light shines down on Kim Seokjin just then, a halo appearing over his head when he jabs a finger against Jungkook’s chest. “Confidence is sexy.” 
“Confidence is sexy,” Jungkook repeats, feels like a kid who’s just met his favorite wrestler after years of being an avid fan, watching every match, memorizing every finishing move, collecting every figurine— it’s a little too specific but it makes sense in Jungkook’s case. You would understand this analogy perfectly, having grown alongside him during his iconic wrestling phase (before volleyball). You had indulged him in his interest, had let him practice those Do Not Try at Home moves on you again and again, even when you knew it ended with you bruised and crying, the twin pigtails you used to rock as a kid uneven and messy. But as your best friend, you had let him twist your arm and pin you to the count of three, because that’s what a good best friend did. 
And as your best friend, Jungkook was gearing himself up to completely, thoroughly rock your virgin world. Because that’s what a good best friend did.
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Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
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bts-ficrecs · 3 months ago
Which ones would you say/recommend as your best namjoon/ reader fics, like top 5 but you can give more 💜
“top 5″ HAHAHAHAHA you’re funny anon. WELL I TRIED. ,and can i just say the WHIPLASH i received combing through all my fave joonie fics.....wheewwwwww. i guess i have a thing for namjoon + RIDICULUOUSLY HIGH tension + YEARS LONG PINGING LMFAAOOO cause......... (oh god they’re all..just....endless pining....)
i hope u enjoy em all anon cause i sure did and im super excited to share these wonderful fics with you 🥺💓
Love Bytes (m) by @stutterfly 
complete series! SLOW BURN AF BUT ITS WORTH IT I PROMISE YOU. the best, best most patient man in the whole wide worl’
For You (m) by @underthejoon 
oneshot! a years long slowburn of a “will they, won’t they?” (in the words of bestie Kim Seokjin) NAMJOON BEING THE BIGGEST TEASE EVER BUT AN ABSOLUTE SWEETHEART. if general life stability and manners aren’t the sexiest thing on a man. 
Try Me by @jjkfire
Beneath the Boughs (m) by @gimmesumsuga 
Forget-me-not by @ot7always​
oneshot! ...this is the only non-happy one......just thinking about it again is making me cry because it hurts me so deeply (my lil baby just asked me why i’m cryin’ and she’s looking at the computer screen at all these words and giving me a look like...ur crying over the alphabet?!?? HAHAHAHA) but pls if this isn’t one of my favorites ever.
the pups series (m) by @ubemango
drabble series! soft & spicy!! big joon!! HE’S BIG AND SO SMITTEN AND SO SOFT BUT ALSO SO HARD eeekk!!!
untitled (best friend Namjoon) (m) by @lamourche​ 
Butterfingers by @jincherie
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gyuluster · 3 months ago
the prince and the jackal | {f}
collab oneshot | fantasy! au | 11.8k words
“Because the prince of the earth can make you fall not only for nature, but the boy who rules over it.”
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s u m m a r y : in the Kingdom of Terrae, you, a metalbender, believe in the deforestation to modernise the land. As a member of the Lumberjackals, you thrive on cutting down trees and stealing resources until you get caught by the Crown Prince, Choi Beomgyu, a lover and embodiment of the nature you wish to destroy. However, instead of imprisoning you for your crimes, Beomgyu decides to show you the beauty and wonders of nature, leaving you to doubt your beliefs, your identity, and your very feelings for the certain boy determined to change you for the better.
w a r n i n g s : prince! beomgyu, woodcutter! metalbender! reader, reader hates wildlife and all things nature, beomgyu is sunshine and flowers and everything good, shit ton of wildlife and fantasy stuff, bts kim line are part of the lumberjackals so are evil in this story i am so sorry y’all, beomgyu has a pet squirrel called jisung yes han jisung, kind of enemies to lovers not really but im pretending it is
p l a y l i s t : fairy of shampoo by txt | colours of the wind by judy kuhn | willow by taylor swift
a u t h o r ‘ s  n o t e : yes i am back from the dead to bring this fic hello!! this is a collab with @soobmint​ @juunnies​ @bffsoobin​ @honeyju​ pls do read their parts too they’re so sexc <3 do lemme know what you all think and thank you for reading!!
back to collab masterlist
back to my masterlist
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“And this prayer I make,               Knowing that Nature never did betray The heart that loved her.”  — William Wordsworth, Tintern Abbey, 1798.
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You ignored the complaints of your comrades, trekking deeper into the forest. 
The sun was nearly drowned out by the towering shade of the surrounding trees, and there remained a constant buzz of the animals, either scurrying away or chirping in the skies. The cut up logs strapped on your back was a huge burden, and slowed your steps as you trudged onto the muddied pathways, staining your boots.
“_____, how much longer until we go to the markets?” one of the men asked, exhaustion clear in his voice. 
“Just a few more logs, Tae,” one of the woodcutters, Seokjin, answered, casting a side-ways glance at you. 
“But we’ve already got so many!” the former whined, pointing to the goods over their shoulders. “We can make decent money today!”
Unsheathing your sword, you cut away at the vines in your path, masking your sight ahead. It must be here somewhere, you thought, eyes darting sharply to every flower and bush. It has to be.
“Haven’t you fools understood already?” a snarl resonated from the group. Your horse trotted past you as Namjoon, sat on top, brought out his machete, brutally slicing the branches of the towering trees. “The wood we’ve got won’t last us all year!”
His eyes blazed with a certain greed as he looked over you all. “We must find the Tree of Life,” he declared, strolling past you, cutting down the path. “One strip of its bark could bring us a fortune.”
You listened to his statements with raised brows, following in his steps. In truth, none of you had ever seen the Tree of Life. No one in the kingdom had for centuries — it had become something of a myth, a legend passed down from every earthbender to child of its origins, and its significance. You didn’t know the great specifics, but the whole group knew that if they were to obtain even a twig from the great tree, it could grant them millions worth of gold. 
And that was something the Lumberjackals desired more than the wellbeing of an omnipotent tree.
Soon, the search progressed, your group cutting down a few Ebonies for its useful properties, but there was no heavenly legend welcoming you in all its finery. The sun was descending on the horizon, and although Spring was present, you were situated in the part of the forest where the gusts of the Ice Kingdom blew consistently in your direction. The cold was about to descend, and you were far from your home in the Metallum villages. 
Taehyung, the youngest of the Kim brothers, held onto a nearby oak, all strength leaving him. “I don’t know about you, but I am not travelling any further.” He glared daggers at Namjoon, who showed no signs of stopping. “I’m setting camp here, and you can do nothing to stop me.”
Seokjin joined his youngest sibling, collapsing on the patch of grass beside the gathering of flowers as he shrugged off his work of the logs. “I vote a little rest, even if Joon does not understand its meaning.”
The said-man let out a scoff at those words. “You both are just bloody lazy!” He turned to you, eyes pinning you where you stood. “You’ll keep searching with me, right?”
You agreed, but when you saw the fatigue in your leader’s gaze you grabbed the reins from his horse, stepping beside him. “You need sleep, Joon,” you said, concern in your eyes. “I’ll do another search. You three stay here.”
Namjoon held your stare for a moment before swiping his leg over the back of the horse, jumping off. He handed you the reins fully. “Come back after dawn. Us three will take over from you.”
You had a right mind to challenge the amount of time he was making you explore, but you kept your mouth shut, heaving onto the animal. Dumping your logs of wood upon the ground, you dipped your head in farewell to the Kim brothers. “I will see you in the morning, boys.”
Taehyung waving excitedly as he set up camp, Seokjin going straight to bed upon his blankets, and Namjoon’s stare cold yet understanding, you cracked the reins as the horse began to gallop away from the oaklands, and deeper into the forest.
The moon barely lit the way as you delved deeper into the trees, the sounds of nature turning sinister as the owls began to hauntingly hoot, and the wildcats began to purr. You kept your sword close, in your hand as the other steadied your horse. 
You let out a hard sigh as you commenced your searching. Sometimes, only when you were alone, you wished that Namjoon would snap out of his delusions. There was no Tree of Life, no invaluable source of fortune which would challenge the earthbenders and start their industrialisation. In truth, you only wished for a life more than just cutting down wood, but your leader’s promises could be much too enticing. 
Perhaps he was right. Maybe with the metalisation of Regna Terrae the metalbenders would be able to progress. It was not like the Kingdom cared for the likes of you, nor the nature which brought you to existence.
Stupid, damned forest. What good had it ever done you?
Suddenly, you heard the harsh snapping of the twigs which wasn’t from your horse. In an instant you halted, pulling the reins as your eyes darted to every corner of the dark forest. 
You furrowed your brows.
The forest cannot be trusted. Even its silences were sinister and misleading.
Slowly, you got off your horse, tying the reins to a nearby tree. “Keep still, Aurum,” you whispered. “I’ll be right back.”
Patting the mane, you turned and followed in the direction of where the sound was heard, every step quiet and cautious. There was little light, you having to rely on your ears alone, and the hands which touched trunk from trunk. In moments like these, you wished you possessed a more useful power than mere metal manipulation — firebending would have been nice, but you supposed that luck had never been in your favour.
Seething, you held onto your sword tighter, sending a little rush of power from your fingers as it sharpened the steel. No one tailing you would survive in your hands.
You then heard a little sigh, and whipped your head to the direction. Gritting your teeth, you rushed to the place of the origins, anger rising. Swiping away the branches in your path, your boots were the only sound among the quiet hush of the forest, along with the slicing of your weapon. Whoever was toying with you will not leave your wrath.
Swiping away the plants, you finally found an opening of grass among the trees. Squinting, your anger surged to find a distant figure standing before you, all masked in shadows from the lack of light within your surroundings. It stood statue-still, matching your deathly quietness. 
But the figure did not seem like it offered death. Nor anything so dangerous as you promised.
“Come out!” you shouted, taking a step forward. “I know you were following me!”
No response. 
“Scared, are you?!” Another hesitant step. “As you should be!”
Still, only silence answered, and the soft crunch of the leaves underneath your boots. You took a deep breath, shining your sword from the moonlight. A scoff emitted from you, nerves disappearing. This should be easy. 
With an aggravated roar, swinging your weapon, you thundered towards the figure. 
You rushed into the moonlight pooling onto the grass, eyes intent with damage as you willed iron-like power from your veins, and into your hands, swirling around the fuller of your sword until it reached its tip, ready to burst onto the figure.
It was then the shadows moved. 
A flick of his hand. A soft glow within the darkness. 
And all of nature followed suit.
You were taken aback as the thousands of vines circulating the surrounding trees unwrapped themselves from their trunks, and snapped towards you in thundering speed. You had no time to take in their stems swirling around your feet, cutting off your run towards this certain figure. A gasp escaping, you were pulled back by the impact, and let out a further scream as you began to fall flat on your face. Then, even more shock reverberated through you as your feet were pulled upwards, shooting your body up until you were suspended from a tree branch, your one foot wrapped tightly in the vines.
Your world all upside down, you shook your head vigorously, feeling the strain of your one leg under complete control of the tree. The thrum of powerful magic of nature resonated through your body, ceasing you from moving your free leg and kicking any potential passerbys. 
Craning your head backwards, you saw with horror that your sword was clattered upon the ground, too far away to reach from the air. Straining your hand towards the grass, you willed your magnetic force, trying to lure your weapon into your hand.
The sword would have ended up in your grasp if another surge of the same natural magic did not break its path, sending it back on the earth.
Enraged, you looked out to the dark, sight distorted. “Gods, just come out already!” you screamed, swinging slightly by your sheer force. “Stop hiding in the damned shadows!”
There was a flutter of little animals coming out from the shadows. “Ha!” you spat, reaching for the dark. “Only sending a few creatures to scare me? You’re going to have to work harder than that!”
When there was another round of silence, you laughed harshly to yourself. “That’s what I thought.”
This time, however, you were not greeted by their usual, quiet answer.
More vines slithered down your frame, pushing your hands together. You gritted your teeth as the gnarly weeds tightened around your wrists, stopping yourself from using your hands.
Glaring daggers at the darkness ahead, you spat at the ground. “Show yourself!” you roared.
Your threats were answered.
Responded in an unimaginable way as the figure stepped into the moonlight.
You could not suppress your reaction.
The most enchanting boy you had ever seen revealed himself from the shadows. You could clearly see him from the light, the soft, child-like features amplified by his undoubted beauty — his mahogany locks curled around his face, cascading over his forehead. His gentle eyes promised great amusement, more so when they landed upon you, a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips. He was adorned in a fine green gown, few assortments strapped on his belt as leather boots, etched in ink, covered his feet. A crown of flowers and leaves settled in his curls, emitting its own, fantastical glow among the darkness.
The smile curved wider at your widened eyes. “Why so speechless now, my lady?” 
By all the gods. Even his voice sounded like the sweetest honey in all the hives. 
“I have come before you, now,” he continued, deeply amused by your bewilderment. “I have stopped hiding in those damned shadows, as you said.
“Where is your anger?”
Well, that seemed to bring your rage all back.
“It’s still here, you bastard!” you hissed, struggling in the rope-like vines as you tried to swipe your hand across his face. He merely took a step back, completely out of your range.
“Even without a weapon you are a force to be reckoned with,” the mysterious boy voiced out, raising his fingers as magic sparked from the tips. Instantly the vines encircled your arms, pinning them to your sides as the weeds wrapped around you completely. You were like a human-sized caterpillar, cocooned in vines except you would not turn into a butterfly and rush away into the forest. 
This nuisance before you would make sure of that.
A satisfied hum escaped him. “There we go,” he said. “Now you won’t be of any danger.”
“Who even are you?” you demanded, glaring daggers at the sight before you. Terrible shame that the sight was something you wouldn’t mind witnessing for the rest of your life. Even if it was upside down. 
A hint of surprise exposed upon his features. “Oh, this is amusing, indeed.”
He took a step towards you, you catching the faint scent and trees and fruit and honey. You couldn’t really figure out a perfect essence — if nature had a scent, then this boy embodied it. “I am surprised you know not of me when you wish to destroy what I own.”
You raised a brow, at eye level with him, despite the loopy image. 
Then, the gears in your head turned, and you were struck hard with the realisation.
When you wish to destroy what I own.
“Oh gods,” you slipped out.
The boy smiled.
No, not just the boy.
The Prince of Regna Terrae — the heir to the Earth Kingdom. 
Choi Beomgyu.
Maybe this explained his otherworldly beauty. Crown princes of the earth kingdoms were known to be blessed by nature, so adorned the finest features known to man. Standing before you now, you cursed yourself for not seeing it before.
And cursed yourself again for cursing at him. Multiple times.
Beomgyu saw your eyes moving a mile a second and spluttered out a soft laugh, raising a finger so you focused on him. “I am glad you have figured out my identity. Now we both know what we are.”
His next words did not possess much hilarity. “I, a prince, and you, a Lumberjackal.”
The declaration had you gulping. There’s no escaping this.
He was not wrong in the slightest — you were a part of the Lumberjackals — a group dedicated to industrialising the Earth Kingdom, and giving it a head start from the other kingdoms who did not possess the natural resources that this land contained. You prided on deforestation, the cutting of wood and, even to a certain extent, the consumption of animals. Although you never participated in the last activity out of pure shame, you knew the Kim brothers certainly did, and enjoyed it to great extent. 
“Do you deny it?”
You tried to look away, but his gaze was a little too intense. Even if it was reversed. “I do not.”
“And what do you have to say for yourself?” he got out, and you could hear the pain in his voice. Could you even blame him? You destroyed what he held so dear.
Still. You were a metalbender. The desire for modernisation is in your very blood.
“I do what I must do, your Highness,” you grit out, struggling in your weedy cocoon. “It is the only way we survive. 
“And I will not stop.”
The boy’s eyes widened a fraction, in pure disbelief. He could not comprehend this — how could one be so against the idea of nature? How could anyone be so resolute in the decimation of what they survived on?
Prince Beomgyu cocked his head, pursing his lips. 
How could one hate a deity he considered so beautiful?
He said so himself. 
You blinked. 
The boy continued. “How can you hate nature?”
His question took you by surprise — you did not really know the answer yourself. 
It was not like you despised the earth in all its natural form. Sure, it brought you the air you breathed, the food you ate, and the water you drank. But what else had nature given you?
You soured upon seeing the Prince’s face. You did not possess the powers other Terrae citizens were gifted with. Your branch of magic was hard, unforgiving. Simply a practicality, only useful for finding resources and making weapons.
Where were your subservient vines? Where was your natural greatness?
With this in mind, you mustered up the most brutal expression you could offer to the boy before you. 
“Because nature was not kind to the likes of me. So I shall not be kind to it either.”
This time, the Prince’s eyes widened even further, afraid they would pop right out of their sockets. 
Once again, his mind was in a twist — how had his dearest accomplice, his most cherished friend, been unforgiving to his subjects? He would never consider himself sheltered, but this was something quite unheard of in his kingdom.
“I know you do not believe me, but this is the only explanation I can offer.” You paused, accepting your fate. “Untie me already so you can send me to prison.”
You felt something swirl beneath the boy’s brown eyes, irises sparkling with wonderment. His voice was soft, if not lost within his own thoughts.
“I believe you, jackal,” he said. With a final step towards you, he left little distance between the two of you, eyes at level with yours as you hung from the tree. “But I cannot be satisfied with it.”
Another blink, taken aback by his declaration. “Well...well, what am I supposed to do about it?”
Shocking you further, he curled a little smile upon his lips. “Well,” he started, and as the smile began to widen further, he knew just what to do.
No, he was certainly not satisfied with her accepted hatred.
“We can start by changing that.”
It was your turn for your pupils to dilate. Gods above. This boy seems one chop away from a stump.
“What do you mean?” you demanded, but the boy was already turning on his heel, looking to the surroundings. He fell to his knees, feeling the ground beneath him with his hands. “Your Highness, what are you doing?!”
He did not deem to answer your question, only counter it with his own. “Do you have a horse nearby?”
You looked at him, surprised he figured it out by merely touching the grass. “Yes, but…”
It seemed that he did not need to hear any more, as he brought a hand out, fingers stretching. A tendril of green power burst from his palm, snaking through the dark air beyond your peripheral vision. The Prince was focused on his conjury, and you wondered what in Terrae he was trying to do.
Then, you heard a distant neighing, and found Aurum following the green trail of his magic, eyes glowing slightly.  
You tried to escape the tight cage of the vines. “Gods, what are you doing with my horse?!” you exclaimed. “She hates strangers!”
The magic disappeared, along with the glow in her eyes. You could tell she was confused at her surroundings, about to raise her hind legs at the boy who spelled her. “She’ll kill you!” you warned, bracing yourself to witness the death of a prince.
It was then Beomgyu stepped towards the horse, gaze sparkling with kindness. 
His hand touched Aurum’s face.
With no small amount of shock, you watched as the boy whispered to your horse, stroking her muzzle. You had never seen her be so friendly to any human she’s made contact with — by Terrae, she even deigned to show attitude to you, who had fed and groomed her since she was a mere pony. How was she sweetening up to someone she had just seen?
Maybe she’s still under a spell, you thought with malice, but then a more honest thought came to mind, and it only made you angrier. 
Or perhaps animals can be just as enchanted with him as humans can.
“What are you talking to her for?” you interrupted them, letting out an aggravated groan as the cocoon engulfed you tighter. “You’re sharing words with her as if she’d spread them!”
Beomgyu slid his eyes upward to you. “I was just asking Aurum if she’d like to have an apple.”
“No, I’ll give her one myself—” you tried to say, but then stopped short. “Wait. How do you know her name?”
He looked at you as if you had asked the most ridiculous question. “Because she just told me.”
You stopped struggling in the cocoon. “What did you just say? Aurum told you?”
Hands never ceasing his comforting upon the horse, he raised a quizzical brow. “Pardon me, jackal, but do you mean to tell me that cannot talk to animals?”
Maybe you were not wrong to think the heir of the Earth Kingdom absolutely crazy. 
He gestured to the world around you both. “Can you not sense each and every creature nearby? Can you not hear their heartbeats, in sync to their purrs and murmurs?
“Can you not hear the very trees breathe around you?”
You did not know what to say. Perhaps you did not understand his words, what he really meant by a tree breathing. Was that even possible? You thought it unimaginable. 
So you offered him the only thing that remained in your mind.
“I have never felt these things.”
The hand upon Aurum’s nuzzle paused, unable to accept the statement which you offered him. 
His suspicions were confirmed. Your hatred of nature and all the beings which it birthed had rid you of your powers.
He had seen this before — lost souls who had done grave wrongdoings to the earth, and as a consequence, their very instincts were snatched, right down to the basics. There was no shortage of Lumberjackals in the palace dungeons, and upon closer inspection, he saw that these woodcutters felt no connection to their surroundings. It broke his heart seeing the lack of attachment, the lack of desire for exploration and yearning for their powers, but he knew it could not be helped. 
Whoever crosses nature would not be forgiven.
Still, when he inspected the confused, tired gaze of yours, searching him for any suspected lunacy, he just knew that he could not toss you in another old cell. This plan he had in mind could not occur through rotting in one place for the rest of your life. 
“Worry not then, jackal.” He raised his hand, magic blooming from his palm. “I am going to change that.”
Whispering to your horse, he listened for a soft neigh before heaving atop her back, hissing at the reins and other controls tying her down. You watched with slight fear. “W-wait a minute,” you started, trying to squeeze out of the vines, but with no luck. “You’re not going to just leave me here, are you?”
Patting Aurum’s mane, he voiced out calmly, “I wish with my whole heart, but then my plan will not work.” 
You pursed your lips, watching his eyes sparkle with mischief. “If you were not a prince, I would have cursed you.” 
With a flick of his hand, a rush of magic travelled to your cocoon; you felt yourself turning on your front, hovering you upright as the power gravitated you back on the ground, loosening the vines. 
“Not like that has stopped you before,” he merely countered as he observed you shrug off weeds in slight humiliation. “Now get on. We have somewhere to be.”
He waited a moment, sighing when you would not oblige. “Is something the matter?”
You wanted to say yes — gods, you wanted to scream at him to get off Aurum, leave you alone and let you cut trees in peace, but of course, that would be an impossible route to take. You still had no inkling of why the Prince of your kingdom was having mercy on you, and you would be quite the fool to exploit it foolishly.
With gritted teeth, you kept your complaints behind your tongue as you brought your foot on the stirrup, heaving upwards as you brought your leg to the other side, settling upon the horse. “Now,” Beomgyu began, looking over his shoulder. “There is no need to be shy. You may put your hands around me as the horse goes fast—”
“I shall be completely fine, thank you,” you interrupted him, brows furrowed. What was this prince even doing? You wondered whether he was a fraud. With that power you witnessed, though, you highly doubted it.
And his features. There is no way a commoner could possess such enchanting beauty.
Flustered, you soured even further. 
“Are you ready, jackal?”
You grunted out a yes, which was enough for the boy to command Aurum to start.
The horse, against your expectation, began galloping much faster, and with a yelp you were nearly sent flying out of the seat. Your hands, on instinct, wrapped around Beomgyu’s waist, and when you realised what you had done you cursed yourself for obliging him. 
You could almost hear his grin. “I told you!” he exclaimed over the noise of hooves clattering against the rocky mud. 
If only you could slap the heirs of kingdoms. “Just take me where you have in mind!” you barked back. “I need to be back to Metallum at dawn.”
“That will be just enough!” 
The horse swept past more trees, animals scurrying from your path as the moon lit the dim forest path. You held onto the prince for dear life, refusing to acknowledge the hard surface beneath his silk, his ethereal warmth radiating onto you. 
“Hey, jackal?”
A sigh. “Yes?” 
“Your horse’s name.” A pause. “Aurum.”
You looked to the trees whooshing past your vision. “What of it?”
Beomgyu whispered for the animal to slow down, scanning his surroundings for his destination. “’Gold’. A very ingenious name.” 
He glanced at your irritated face, and smiled. “My mare is called Argenti.”
Your mouth parted at the little revelation.
Argenti. Silver.
Before you could say more on the matter, the boy stopped the horse, cooing at her and praising her for helping him. Swinging his leg over, he jumped off the horse gracefully. He fixed his flower crown before turning to face you, falling rather awkwardly on the grass. 
A small laugh escaping him, you daggered him with your gaze as you stepped beside him, a hand on Aurum. Your stare lingered as he took a circle turn of the surroundings, moon almost winking at him as it journeyed in the blanket of night. After a while, Beomgyu pointed to the tree nearby you, stepping past you to palm its trunk. “Here we go.”
Fingers stretching, magic spluttered as it swirled into the thick expanse of the leaves, nearly covering the sky with their excess. The matter squeezed through, and brought out the hidden vines, tumbling down till they reached the roots. Grabbing onto the plants, the prince turned his head towards you, an offer in his eyes. 
You hated how you understood exactly what he meant. “I am not going up with you,” you retorted. 
“It’s my arms or the dungeon.”
Gulping, you swallowed down your irritation for him. Taking a step towards him, you maintained a safe distance as you made sure he was aware of your distaste. “Just get us up already.” Damn the gods for making him so aggravatingly beautiful, you thought shamelessly as you looked at him. “Your Highness.”
Perhaps he knew, for the little smile was back, wrapping his arm around your waist, and pulling you close. “That’s more like it,” he murmured out before willing his magic into motion. 
Your breathing hitched as you were pulled rapidly upward by the vines, breaking through the surface of the leaves. You closed your eyes, feeling the scraping of the branches against your clothes until you felt yourself still, listening only to the deep breaths of the prince beside you. His hand was still snaked at your side.
“Open your eyes, jackal.”
Somehow, on instinct, you obliged. 
And widened them further.
You were in another world entirely — the branches expanded beyond your vision, intertwining with the others from different trees, so intricately interlinked beneath your feet that they created a floor. Upon this branching surface there was a little room, decorated with every unusual object that one could identify. Beside the bed, interwoven by these branches, you saw an abundance of flowers and leaves, an lamp of glowing fireflies resting in the corner, and a thousand other items which needed further explanation.
Judging by the awe on your face, the boy answered you, heading to the small cabinet where everything was placed. “A collection of gadgets,” he began, using his magic to separate every object. “That I’ve bought or been gifted since my princedom.” He took out a few unrecognisable things and strolled to the wardrobe, made from the same intertwining branches, and opened the doors, rummaging through.
“What are you even looking for?” you asked, but were dutifully ignored as he kept searching. You admired the intricate scenery, the plush excess of leaves beneath your shoes, shielding you and the prince nearby.
You heard him let out a satisfied ah! as he closed the doors shut. He walked over to you, showing you the rather odd object — it was an unusually large ice cube, miniscule snowflakes etched onto its every side as it orbited slowly in Beomgyu’s hand.
Your curious gaze upon the gadget had him into explanation. “A present from the Ice Prince,” he said, admiring the cold gift in his palms. “It provides an infinite water supply, so is incredibly useful for long journeys.”
“Taehyun, is he not called?” You shivered at the thought. “I am shocked to think he is capable of such small kindnesses.”
Beomgyu slid his eyes to yours. “Taehyun is not the man that his subjects have painted him to be.” His irises swirled in an indecipherable emotion. “Sometimes, one cannot judge the character of another simply based on rumour alone. Only with having conversation can one truly have an honest opinion.”
A small part of you wondered if he truly meant that for Taehyun, or to you, another villain in the Earth Kingdom’s millennia-old tale. Whatever it may be, you looked away, wondering when you’d be able to leave the prince’s presence. 
“Right,” you heard him say, pocketing the other unknown object in his breast pocket of his gown. “Let us go on ground once more.”
The boy was about to tug on the vines again when he was interrupted by a most unusual sound. 
Well, not unusual, considering you were situated in a tree house, but the noise was so shrill you instantly looked down to its origin.
Before you was a little squirrel, cheeks puffed as its little hands perched on its sides. Its soft tail moved rapidly behind its body, indicating irritation. 
Its small, black eyes were fixated upon the boy beside you. Letting out yet another squeak, you saw Beomgyu sigh out in exasperation, as if he had just remembered an important matter.
“Oh gods, I do apologise!” He exclaimed, falling to his knees as he held his free hand out, the other holding the hovering ice cube still. “I’m afraid I cannot feed you now, but would you be able to wait?”
The squirrel let out another squeak, and this time the prince flinched. You gawked at the scene — so not only can he command the trees, but he could talk to animals?
What can this boy not do?
“Ji, I am sorry!” Fishing out an acorn from his breast pocket, he offered it before him. “I have one, if it helps! I promise to feed you properly after I am done with a certain task.”
Even so, the animal seemed much unimpressed. It then turned its little head to you, and you could have sworn that its eyes judged your very soul. 
It squeaked some more, and this time Beomgyu widened his eyes, cheeks flushing. “By Mother Nature, no!” He bellowed out, panicked eyes fleeting towards you. “No, I just met her today.”
“Are you talking about me?” You asked, raising a brow. The squirrel then made another sound, one you could not decipher but, judging from the boy’s reaction, could definitely take a wild guess. “By gods, is this creature mocking me?”
You were rewarded with further squeaking, but was instantly silenced by Beomgyu. “Ji, no! I cannot have you being sarcastic tonight. Save your grievances for tomorrow morning!”
And as the prince scooped the squirrel in his hand, he walked over to the bed, settling it on the sheets. “Stay here. I will be back.”
There was sure to be complaints, but the boy kept sending looks of apology as he stepped back to the edge of the exit, tugging on the vines. “Deeply sorry for Jisung’s behaviour,” he said, swirling the cube slowly. “He is grumpier tonight as I have not fed him this evening.”
“A pet squirrel, huh?” You interrogated, looking down to the grass below. “And one you can talk to? Is that how you could communicate with Aurum?”
Nodding, the prince held his arm out. “Are we ready?”
You hurrying my shook your head. “Not again!” You crossed your arms. “I’ll slide down myself. Without your help.”
Shrugging, the boy held on tighter to the vine. “Your wish, jackal,” he said, and jumped down. Perking up, you squatted down to see him descend smoothly down the tree, landing perfectly on the grass. 
Grabbing onto the plant, you looked back to the grumpy pet, stuffing the acorn in his mouth. 
He then stuck his tongue out, and you gasped at the audacity. “Rude!” You shouted, but we’re only answered with shrill squeaking. Ignoring the creature, you took the vine by both hands, and followed suit.
Your descent was much less graceful, landing instead on your backside. You were met with the huffed laughter of the prince, and you forced down the urge to beat him with his stupid flower crown. Or perhaps tie these vines around his neck and strangle him.
No, that would only result in him using his silly magic. Awful, attractive bastard.
“What are we doing now, Highness?” You wondered out loud, rubbing your sore backside. “Do tell me there is some use of your rather odd ice cube.”
Beomgyu, after strolling further into the woods, slowed himself for you to catch up. “There is some use, unfortunately for you.” He waved you over, stepping past the wild bushes in his path. “Follow me, jackal!” he called out to you. 
Grudgingly, you did as he asked, hugging yourself from the cold breeze of the midnight, wondering where in Terrae he was trying to take you. The trees towered over you like intimidating strangers — if the prince spoke true, then you wouldtuly be unwelcome. 
You were surrounded by this coercion until the forest opened up to an open grassland, encircled by the nature which looked down at you. Beomgyu turned to you, bringing out a few seeds from his trouser pockets and standing right in the middle of the circle. 
“There you are,” he said as you stepped beside him. He glanced at the moon, measuring the amount of time he had left. 
“What are you going to do?” you asked him, still clueless regarding the whole situation. Why has he not sent you to the dungeons already?
His eyes travelled to your face. With a half-soft scoff, he held out his hand, the seeds now in perfect view. “It is not what I’m going to do,” he began. “It is what you are going to do.”
The confusion grew within you. “What do you mean?” you tried to clarify. “What am I to do with these seeds?”
Beomgyu’s eyes promised answers. “Bring out your hand, jackal.”
You did as you were told, holding out your hand as he put the seeds in your palm, fingers barely brushing against your skin. He then descended, knees upon the grass as he patted to the space beside you. “Come, sit.”
Pursing your lips in thought, you knelt before the grass, seeds in your enclosed fist as your gaze never strayed from the boy. “Your Highness—”
Magic oozing from his fingers interrupted your demand, slipping into the earth. Slowly, but surely, a small hole was separated by the green matter, dirt being shovelled to create a dip in the grassland. 
Once he ceased his conjuring, he jerked his head towards the new opening. “Place the seeds in the hole,” he instructed. “Gently now! Treat them with the utmost care.”
Grumbling in response, you leaned forward as you gingerly put each seed at the corners of the muddy dip, noticing a small spark with each placement of the grain. It was a bizarre feeling, but assumed it normal in the ways of gardening as you inserted the dirt over them, covering them fully.
You peered at the prince then, who brought out the large ice cube. Turning it rapidly, treacle of water dripped down to the ground, moistening the earth and feeding the seeds of its necessities. Putting the gadget back in his storage belt, he then returned his hand upon the damp mound, closing his eyes in a fixated peace. More magic swirled from his hands, but this time it encircled not only the place where you had placed the seeds, but you, all of you, engulfing you in its otherworldly warmth. 
“Your Highness?” You whispered out, but he was murmuring, murmuring words you could not comprehend, words which felt like you were not meant to hear. His curls were being lifted slightly with the tendrils of his power, but he stayed rooted to his spot, carrying on with what you feared was a grotesque ritual. 
You, too, became still when you felt fingers curl around your hand. 
On instinct you looked at him, eyes widening — you should have expected his hand to radiate some form of heat, considering this boy had such an unusual glow about him, but this…
Despite the soft chaos around the two of you, the touch was oddly comforting. 
His hand, dragging you out of your thoughts, led yours to the place you sowed the little grains of life, and spread apart your fingers till they covered nearly the entire, dug up earth. More matter escaped from his fingers, shooting further warmth upon the back of your hand, and travelling up to your heart. 
“Close your eyes, jackal,” you heard him chant from his cocoon of magic. “I need you to see from within.”
“See what?!” You beseeched, but his fingers held onto you a little tighter, and, as if he commanded your very body, had your eyelids descend shut, cornering you into the chambers of your mind.
See from within.
What could you see?
Darkness. Eternal darkness, and rusted iron, spilled mercury, and all the grim faces of the people who wanted to decimate the very place you knelt in.
I cannot see! You screamed in your mind, because in the whirlwind of his power you felt alone, trapped in your own mind, trying to join in on a ritual which would cursed the likes of you.
But in reality, you were not alone.
No, not when you felt something foreign in your body.
You swore you stopped breathing. 
Your fingers felt squeezed by another, but was ignored because you could see a whole other heartbeat which was not your own.
A familiar voice entered your mind.
“Do you see it?”
The prince’s voice; the soft, almost desperate inquiry, which you could not help but answer. 
“Yes...yes, by Terrae, I do see it.”
And perhaps he said some more, but you were not listening to his words. His speech seemed a little insignificant to the little heartbeat — it was as faint as the scent of departure, delicate as a snowflake, and as real as yourself, the prince, and the neverending forest.
When you tried to lift your hand, Beomgyu’s fingers halted you still. You could not believe that you did not mind it. “Whose...whose is it, your Highness?”
You were positive that he did not hear you with the lack of volume you let slide from your tongue. However, he answered your question, almost feeling the joy radiating from his response.
“The seeds.” 
Shocked, you opened your eyes, and found the Prince of Earth staring at you with an elevated joy. He gestured to observe your creation, and when your eyes fell upon the sliver of a stem which broke through the earth, between the spaces of your fingers, you wondered whether this was all a dream.
You could not help the curse which escaped you. The boy beside you spluttered into laughter, and you turned to see his face radiating with elation. The heartbeat, the one which you thought was under your control, proved you wrong as it skipped its beat along to his laughs.
“Wh-what are you laughing at?” You demanded, but you were unable to execute it with the anger you wish you held for him. He offered you a honeypot of smiles.
“You’ve brought life to the forest, sweet jackal.”
The little plant shivered in response, along with your own hairs at the back of your neck, which stood at his announcement. Its faint heartbeat grew louder, as well as your own in your ears.
“Do you feel it now?” he whispered, leaning ever so close as he looked to the forest around you. “Do you feel the trees breathing in your presence?” 
Unfortunately, although you could sense your plant’s essence, the heartbeats of every tree in the forest were still unheard. You shook your head no, but that did not wipe the grin off his face.
“We have time,” he reassured you. “Just know that Mother Nature has hope for you still.”
He took your hand, putting another upon the back as he brought you a different kind of warmth. “I have hope for you.”
You parted your mouth, unaccustomed to the contact, the all that he represented. 
His eyes locked with yours, and although he had spared you the wrath of his palace dungeons, you feared whether you could escape the imprisonment of his gaze. 
There was no doubt in your mind as you let yourself be arrested into his stare — the Prince of the Earth was not going to haunt just a single night.
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Of course, that was not the last time you saw him — you had become something of a personal project to him, a sin which must be reversed. Almost every night after the fateful encounter, you snuck out from the fences of the Metallum villages, barely evading the suspicious eyes of the Kim brothers, and met with him under his treehouse.
You did not know why you endeavoured so ardently in seeing him. It was not like he had become any less irritable with his amused grins and unmatched power, but there was something about him which you could not fend off. 
In a way, he made you believe you were worth more than simple woodcutting, selling oaks in the market, the empty promises of revenge against the Natural Kingdom. 
Somehow, he made you realise that, maybe, you truly were deserving of a more memorable path.
These very thoughts accompanied you as the sun began to set, pulling your hood over your head as you swept past the familiar trees, reining in the urge to greet every woodland creature which scurried past you. The past few weeks, after many misunderstood arguments with the Prince’s pet squirrel, you learned the slight quirks which the animal possessed, his every movement and what it would signify. You had Beomgyu to thank once again, but each time you wished to do so, he would say the same, hair-rising reassurance.
“Fret not, sweet jackal. It is a pleasure to show you the wonders of nature.”
Sweet jackal. The endearment made you so flustered, and that aggravated you to the greatest extent. You had already shared your name with the boy, but he insisted on calling you this name, as if the two of you had already established an intimacy from decades before. 
The very thought had your actual heartbeat racing.
You made sure to completely dismiss this foolery as you found the special opening of the grassland in sight, the glowing figure waving you over. A small smile involuntarily curled at your lips, hurrying closer till you fully saw Prince Beomgyu’s face clearly in the setting sun.
“You have arrived much earlier this evening,” he said in a way of greeting, fixing his flower crown as his squirrel played with the petals. “I would not say I’m displeased.”
On your part, you certainly were not either — he bore more finery than usual, his normal green gown threaded with gold swirls at the hems, small vines tied around his ears as natural jewellery. His hair was sprinkled with petals, a trait Jisung adored as he settled in the nest of his locks. His hands, too, were intertwined with dark vines, swirls wrapped around his fingers like extended rings. 
By the gods, he truly was an exquisite being. 
He noticed your silence, raising a groomed brow. “Is something the matter?” he asked, but when he saw your eyes dart to anywhere but his own, he immediately understood. You just managed to catch a satisfied quirk of his lips before he turned his attention to your plant. 
Following his trail, you brightened up to see your creation in full bloom — bright red poppies, stark against the pool of grass, stood as they swayed to the evening breeze. You knelt down to observe them closer, and felt a peculiar sense of pride at sensing their clear heartbeat harmonising with yours.
“They’re my favourite flower,” the boy said behind you. “I have always adored how they stand out amongst all the others.”
Watching the poppies almost dance in the cool air, you stood upwards once again. “Then why do you not wear them?” you asked out of curiosity.
“Because my parents do not like me wearing them.” He gestured to the flower crown, at risk of being torn up by Jisung. “They say the colour is too harsh.”
He clicked his tongue in irritation. “At least they could have spared me on my birthday.”
You were about to comment on his parents when those words escaped his mouth. Your own mouth parted in surprise. “Your birthday is today?”
The prince mocked being stabbed in the chest, nearly sending the squirrel to the trees. Taking Jisung from his hair, he propped him on his shoulder. “You have truly wounded me, ____!” he whined. “All this time together, and you had no inkling?”
Although he was only jesting, it only embarrassed you further. “I truly am sorry, your Highness!” you apologised, clasping your hands together. “If I had known, I would have made you a present.”
“Oh?” He took a step towards you. His eyes danced in mirth. “And what would you have made me?”
That seemed to rob you of your speech. “Well, um…” you trailed off, searching your now useless mind of any decent idea for a gift, but he waved off your fluster, chuckling.
“It is no problem, dear jackal,” he said, looking at the red flowers once more. “Seeing your poppies in full growth is a gift to me anyway.”
You wished he had not said that; glancing at them now, you could only hear his fascination within the petals. 
There he was again — staining your every entity of his remnants. How much more till he stains your very soul?
Jisung’s irritated squeak brought you back to the forest. You tried not to murder the damned creature as you muttered out, “Thank you, Your Highness.”
Beomgyu groaned out. “I shan’t have you calling me that hideous title all the time.” He put a hand to his chest. “Have we not reached first name basis?”
Despite your surprise, you offered him a scoff. “Jackal is not my first name,” you jeered. “And please. You’re the prince of our land. Anyone who catches me being informal with you will surely have my head.”
“I would never let them,” he merely said. “Not before I show you one last part of the forest.”
You quirked a quizzical brow. “I think you’ve shown me half your kingdom by now.”
“But this is...quite different.” 
The boy stepped closer to you, reaching out his hand. You found yourself warming up as he enveloped it with yours, a gesture so small yet so triggering to your nerves. 
“Follow me, ____.”
With the tug of his fingers, you were led out of the grasslands and back into the jungles of Regna Terrae, catching familiar sights of ancient mahoganies and birches, different variations of trees all grouped together.
As the moon began to ascend, your anxiety increased. His hand worked wonders for your skin, but at the back of your mind, you could not shake off the image of the Kim brothers wondering where you had gone so long.
Especially Namjoon. Seokjin and Taehyung may have been much simpler in the brain, but the leader of the trio bore his suspicions of your whereabouts. He always knew you were never enthusiastic of your occupation as a Lumberjackal, so your sudden interest to roam the woodlands for hours into the night certainly had his ears perking. Of course, you always made sure to know that you were going without being followed, but in the end, the three brothers were quite unpredictable. 
You just hoped that whatever the prince had to show you, it would be seen quick enough to leave.
The density of the forest began to increase, and you soon began to doubt whether you had been to this part of the Kingdom before. It was then Beomgyu’s hands flowed with magic, and completely changed the scenery. The ancient trees, trunks as wide and thick as horses began to move apart to make way for him and you, the squirrel holding onto his shoulder tightly as it too squeaked in surprise. Your own eyes widened as each element of nature bent to his will, creating an easier path for his boots to step onto.
It was clearly a sight for admiration. These few weeks you had begun to realise the power of the earth, and how rich and true its roots lay. You felt the faint hum of their essences as you rushed past them, hand still clasped with his, and you dipped your head in thanks to the trees, hoping that one day you would hear them sing welcomes to you.
Slowing down, the group was barred by the curtain of thick vines, hiding you from the world behind. “I have never seen this before,” you wondered out loud, but when Beomgyu let go of your hand, and stepped forward, hands stretched out, your curiosity reigned further.
Jisung quickly scurried from his shoulder, ending up on the muddied path as he watched with black eyes of the phenomenon about to occur. You made to make fun of the squirrel when the prince let out an aggravated moan, hurling your head to his direction.
His heavenly voice chanted in a millennia old language, huge power emitting from his finger tips and swirling to the tumbling vines of the entrance. You could see the sweat beading down his forehead at the sheer effort it took, but he stayed rooted, sending surges of green matter to the cold nature.
Slowly, the curtain began to withdraw. Blinding light cut through, and when the boy let out a roar, pushing the whole family of vines apart you hid your head from the white bursting through. 
There was a deathly silence for a singular moment. 
You heard his ragged breathing, lasting for ten seconds before it turned into relieved, panted chuckling. 
Bringing your hand away from your face, you looked to see beyond the curtain. 
Your very breath was snatched from your lungs. 
Before you was the most enchanting deity of nature you had ever seen in your existence — it was a glowing white tree, trunk as wide as the two of you twice over, etched with milky-coloured wrinkles that contained sparkles of ancient magic. The leaves, much like finely cut diamonds, protruded from every branch which stretched towards every corner the eye could see. The diamonds were infinite, shining from the gentle light of the moon.
Even though you had never seen it before, you knew exactly what it was. 
“The Tree of Life.”
Your gaze dared to break away to see the prince for a second, whose own breathing seemed to have halted. Sensing your stare, he looked back at you, his face half glowing from the deity’s light.
“I...I thought it did not—” you tried to say, but of course you could not when it was right there before you, as if it had been waiting to be found all its life.
“Exist?” He took a step forward. “Every myth is borne from truth after all.”
Indeed it was — you had learned of the Tree of Life when you were a mere girl, listening to fairy tales before being told to sleep. This Tree could not be seen by the common man, and legend foretold that there lived an otherworldly creature inside its trunk. Evidently, no one could prove this theory, but its mystery had what inspired so many people, metal and earthbenders alike, to find it, for opposing reasons.
You knew why Namjoon wanted to find it — for the amount of gold a singular leaf could bring him. Now, having accused him of believing in fantasies, you almost felt ashamed for having ridiculed his searches. 
You perked up at the Prince’s voice. 
“You must get a closer look.”
Picking up the pace of your feet, you fell into step beside him as the two of you started towards the legend come to life. The closer you approached the more enchanting it looked — the leaves glistened further, as if greeting you with their shine. 
Jisung scurried between you both, his little head never straying from the Tree. It let out an awed squeak, and Beomgyu hummed in agreement. 
“Have you ever seen anything like it?” 
You shook your head, transfixed. “Never,” you responded, feeling the very earth shift beneath your feet.
If nothing else convinced you of the power of nature, then the existence of this deity certainly did.
You stepped past the boy, the grass hushed beneath your feet as you stretched out your hand. When your fingers touched the milky bark your breath shuddered out of you. It was simply unreal. The touch was surprisingly soft, so unlike the normal trees, and with each crack of the bark there was ancient writing inscripted within. With further shock you felt a very distant heartbeat as the fingers ran along the words, faint yet powerful.
By the gods. 
“Where have you been hiding all this time?” you whispered to the Tree, tracing the aged trunk. “Your Highness, is everything about the legend true?”
There was no response — you figured he was still star-struck, and you continued to admire the most beautiful force you had ever seen.
It was not until you heard Jisung’s shrill squeak that you turned around.
You felt your soul leave your body.
Because there he was, the one man you dreaded to see. The one man who held Beomgyu’s unconscious body in his hands as he dropped him upon the grass. You noticed the little dart on the side of his neck, and all the blood in your body was drained. 
Kim Namjoon.
His answering smirk was more a flash of teeth. “Do you believe me now, ____?” 
You backed up against the Tree, eyes darting to the prince. “What did you do to him?” you asked instead, voice void of any emotion.
“That does not matter,” he dismissed. “But of course, it would matter to you now that you’ve attached yourself to him.”
He took a step forward, his ebony machete glinting in the light of the phenomenon behind you. “Stand aside, girl. It is time to make our fortunes.”
On instinct, you stretched a hand out. “I cannot.”
The man was taken aback by your hesitance. “Whatever the gods do you mean?”
Gulping, you tried to steel your will, inhaling slowly. “I cannot let you do it, Namjoon.” Your eyes glanced at the still prince before glaring at the perpetrator. “You won’t get a single branch of the Tree.”
A harsh laugh escaped him, taking a step forward. “Oh, and you’re going to stop me?”
You brought out your own sword — the one which you promised to use on Beomgyu — and raised it toward him. “Do not come any further,” you warned. 
It seemed the man was not not going to compromise.
Not when he swung his machete, well on his way to hack you to pieces. 
You quickly brought your weapon upon you to deflect his aim, sending him forward, and away from the Tree.
He can try and hurt the Tree of Life.
Easily gaining step, Namjoon mustered his power, ebony sharpening from his fingers as he clashed against you, lightening-fast strikes of his machete having you strained. You never doubted the bastard’s swordsmanship — he was skilled enough to be a general in the King’s royal army.
A shame he chose his fighting for a darker purpose. 
You tried to slice the free space of his abdomen, but the man was sharp, quickly dodging as he swerved to the side, another clash of weapons ringing around the forest. 
“You cannot beat me, ____!” He roared, one hit after the other, sending you further back. 
Taking every hit, you stumbled, gaining your step yet staggering once again with his sword. After all, you could not outsmart the master; he was the man who taught you to fight.
Even so, you refused to give up. “I can die trying!” You seethed as he brought his strength down. His weapon, screeching against your own, slowly descended, closer and closer to your neck. 
A harsh groan escaping, you mustered all your strength into sending his machete aside, barely a spare second in your name before you whirled to your left, missing the power blow.
“All this for a bloody tree!” He screeched, thundering towards you. “We would have been rich, you fool!”
Another mighty hit, and you were sent back, averting his strikes with your sword. Because you were so exhausted, your magic would not burst from your hands, adding more power to your weapon. It was your melee strength, nearly all gone, and your nimble feet.
“What is all this for?!” He demanded, slicing at your cloak, cutting through the fabric of your trousers. The clash of weapons continued, faster and faster. “What is worth more than all the riches of the Kingdom?!”
Amidst the brawl, your eyes slipped to the figure before you. Distant, yet instantly recognisable with his eyes closed, and mouth parted, flower crown scattered around his head. Jisung, too, laid injured beside him, watching your fight with fear in his little eyes. 
What is all this for?
You only had one person in mind.
But that was not enough.
No, not when that sliver of a second gave Namjoon enough time to strike you, sending his machete straight into your stomach. 
A shuddered gasp escaped you as the machete entered through — a burst of pain shot through your entire body, echoing the fatality of your situation. Tears stung your eyes as you dropped your sword, looking at your opponent in the eyes.
The Leader of the Lumberjackals showed no mercy as he yanked out his weapon. 
A moan rushed past your lips as you fell to your knees, gripping your blood-gushing stomach. Namjoon gazed down at you with no remorse at all. “Perhaps he was not enough,” he said, cold as metal.
He stepped past you, focusing on the glistening Tree of Life, its white treasures still exalted in the moonlight. Your body, completely spent, could not hold you upright, falling straight into the grass. Straining, you cried out as you stretched your hand out in vain efforts to stop him, but it was simply no use.
You had been defeated.
And now, after witnessing the most perfect element of nature you had ever seen, you were to watch it be decimated.
This is how it ended. You, fumbling for your last breath, your prince nearby and probably dead.
Namjoon raked his eyes over the Tree, grinning wildly. “Oh, you are going to make me the richest man in the Kingdom,” he declared, raising his machete till it hovered just before the bottom of the trunk.
He elevated his voice so you could hear. “Enjoy watching me destroy what you sacrificed yourself for!”
Closing your eyes, you were about to let oblivion take over. 
You awaited the sound of his weapon against the bark.
What you heard was something completely different. 
An explosion filled your ears as white light, even more blinding than the one before, had you squeezing your eyes further shut. You made out the screams of your once leader as it was drowned out by the eruption, and you tried to see what had so suddenly occurred, only to be greeted with more brazen lights. 
What...what was going on?
When the deafening noise quietened, you picked up on the soft crunch of grass, edging closer and closer to you. A compelling force was felt against your dying soul, and you wondered if the Reaper had finally come to take you.
When you felt air-light hands on your abdomen, you did not expect death to be so warm.
Slowly, dragging open your eyes, you prepared yourself to be taken to the afterlife. 
What you saw instead was something else entirely.
Something which made even the Tree of Life as a mediocre enchantment.
Looking over you was not human — not with the glowing, shimmering skin, sparkles and shine radiating off its golden, liquid body. Her eyes were white with the same light you had seen twice this evening, fluid locks of hair flowing all around her. Her lips offered a radiant smile, already bringing some life back into you, and her whole body, although similar to yours, was free of attire, exuding the light of a star. 
Perhaps you truly were dead. 
The being, however, proved you wrong with her words.
“Brave human,” she began, and her velvet voice had you clutching your stomach. “I saw what you did to defend me.”
You tried to open your mouth to tell her that you defended the Tree, but then your eyes dilated at the revelation. 
The legend foretold that there lived an otherworldly creature inside its trunk.
But this...this god-like creature was not just a mere girl.
“You sacrificed yourself for my Tree,” she stated, voice echoing across the woodlands. “For my forest, my every creation, despite being an enemy of mine in the past.
“You deserve a token of my gratitude.”
Her voice nearly put you to sleep with the way it lulled in the midnight air. You wondered in your tired mind what she could offer you now that you were breathing your last breath.
Then, you felt her hands upon your stomach.
A loud groan escaped your lips as the torn flesh began to stitch on its own accord, courtesy of the magic which poured from the sublime being. Your whole body worked to heal you, reversing the damage done by your once leader, whose whereabouts you had no inkling of. 
The pain, which once tore at every nerve within you, began to fade away, and you opened your eyes further after gaining the strength, fully taking in the earthly spirit which had restored you. 
You parted your mouth, voice parched as you rasped out, “I...Beomgyu…”
A heavenly smile curled at her lips. “The prince is fine, soldier. It would take more than a dart to eliminate the heir of the Earth.”
A relieved breath left your lips. You then looked to the being, putting your hands above hers. “I am not who I was,” you whispered.
Mother Nature smiled down at you, and you knew then and there that perhaps the world is not so cruel after all.
“I know, brave human.”
The luminous creature ascended to her feet, letting go of your hands. She dipped her head in acknowledgment, and turned on her heel. Struggling to your side, you watched as the otherworldly figure stepped up to the Tree of Life, looking at you one last time.
Raising a hand to her chin, she blew some magic towards your way, bathing you in sparkles. With a final beam, she slipped into the tree, enlivening the whole structure till it stood straight once again.
You truly could not believe what you saw.
Feeling the glimmer dancing on your skin, however, you knew this was not a figment of your imagination.
Mother Nature saved you from death.
Truly, utterly, ethereal. 
Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard soft coughing nearby, and you heaved upward at the sound, your strength all present.
Upon your feet, you rushed to where he lay, stumbling from the hurrying as you fell to your knees, hands clinging onto his face. Jisung, his injuries healed from the celestial visit, scurried upon his owner’s chest, waiting for him to awaken.
“Beomgyu?” You murmured out, fingers stroking the soft planes of his cheeks. “Beomgyu, damn you, open your eyes!”
Tilting his face till it faced you, you watched as the prince’s eyes fluttered open, tired and wide and absolutely beautiful.
A trembling breath gasped out of you. “What…” he grated out, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. “What just...happened?”
You willed the tears in as you caressed his face. “The legend was true.”
His confused gaze had you continuing. “Beomgyu, I saw the celestial creature when I was dying, and she saved me. It was true, Beomgyu, she healed me with her hands and—”
Your rambling ceased when the boy brought his fingers to your face. Warmth flooded your cheeks, and not because of how hot his hands were.
His smile could have easily beaten Mother Nature’s. 
“You called me Beomgyu.”
He did not let you respond as he brought your face down to his, tilting it slightly as he pressed his lips against yours, enveloping you in a sweet kiss. 
His mouth was warm, just like him, soft and plush, rendering you helpless over him. Your shock was quite prevalent, but you let the affection take over as you kissed him back, hands carding in his curls. He moved against your lips as his fingers stroked down to your jaw, savouring every feathered touch.
When he broke away, his breathing was ragged, cheeks flushed. He saw your own dishevelled gaze and chuckled to himself. 
“I think this might be the best birthday present I have ever received.”
The Prince of Regna Terrae laughed some more when you refused to meet his eyes.
You were about to counter him when you heard another, completely new voice. 
“You both could have done that without me being here.”
Your stare dove to his chest, to the direction of the sound.
Jisung the squirrel glared at you with the entire irritation of the Kingdom. “Oh what? So now you can hear me?!”
A yelp resounded from you. “How are you talking?!” You screeched. “You’re a bloody animal!”
“Oh, thank you so very much for stating the blatantly obvious!” He drawled, and you could not comprehend the sarcasm that just came from a bloody woodland creature.
You peered at Beomgyu, who was just as surprised as you were, despite his entertained features. “____,” he started, sitting up straighter. “Does this mean—”
Getting to your feet, you looked around the forest, the Tree of Life standing proudly. 
It was then you sensed the heartbeat.
Not just your own, or the poppies — but of the entirety of the Kingdom.
Faraway, yet still present, it thumped against your chest like an echo of your own heart, a harmonisation of all the trees, bushes, flowers and animals. It was almost enchanting how it slowly thudded within you, and with such welcome. 
Like greeting a friend you had not seen for a long time. 
When you caught the Prince’s gaze, his entire face lit up. 
Before you could say anymore, you were swept into the boy’s arms, engulfing you with a hug of eternal warmth. His voice rang along your soul as he declared to the whole word.
“Nature has accepted you, ____!”
You heard the clicked tongue of Jisung beneath you, and Beomgyu brought you at arm’s length before sticking out his tongue at his pet. 
He looked to you once more, and saw the very emotions you dared not let yourself believe in.
“I knew you were capable of change, sweet jackal.”
The tears, this time, refused to be held back any longer. 
The boy melted as he swept away each tumbling drop with his fingers, clutching your face. 
As you leaned in this time, kissing him breathlessly, you tasted the smile which flourished upon his lips, drinking in your every essence. 
You wondered, thinking away as your heart beat faster, whether this was still a dream, a vision which would end the moment you woke up, back in the cold village you once called your home. 
When you felt the presence of the celestial being again, looking down from the branches of the Tree of Life, you knew that this was no delusion.
Pulling away, you turned Beomgyu to the glistening, living structure, both of you catching sight of her.
Mother Nature smiled at her heirs.
The both of you knew it in your hearts, simultaneously beating. 
The heirs of Regna Terrae would not let her down. 
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163 notes · View notes
chemicalpink · 3 months ago
☾✧゜BTS Tarot Reading: a peek into their S/O energy ☾✧゜
Pairing: none, this is a tarot/oracle reading.
A/N: I used the divine feminine deck for this reading. Please do remember that every tarot reader’s relationship with their decks are unique thus it may vary the interpretation of the cards. This reading is for entertainment purposes only; the energy channeled may refer to a present or future partner. Whatever outcomes of the reading doesn’t mean ultimate truth and we should really respect the member’s dating life as fans. 
Kim Seokjin ☾✧゜
Mai Bhago: resources; warrior.
So i feel like this is someone that might have to fight for him
Someone that will stop at nothing to get him to open up.
Cause I mean sure, either way, Jin is so far up in the ‘people that will never be your boyfriend’ list with the way that BTS has grown but I feel like this is so much more than that.
I feel like 
It’s not hard to get close to him, but it is hard to get him to open up to the idea of someone loving him for him and not for what he’s accomplished.
idk if that makes sense (?
Lakshmi: abundance
As soon as I laid eyes on this card I got the idea of someone with all that bread.
Not sure if it is inherited wealth/ wealthy family or self made
But definitely someone that has the necessary resources to live comfortably
And also this adds up to them being able to make Jin open up 
Cause they are definitely not using him for money.
Which is a big relief for him.
Rita of Cascia: impossible causes.
Definitely someone that doesn’t run on the same circles as him.
I thought: hmmm maybe a fan (?
Or possibly someone that doesn’t necessarily has the time to date
But most definitely has the intention to love Seokjin with all their strength.
Min Yoongi ☾✧゜
Rita of Cascia: impossible causes
Hello we meet again.
But with a diferent connotation.
This is someone whos strong will puts us all to shame
Like really
Someone that gets their mind on something and will most definitely get it.
Very in tune with Yoongi’s energy.
Lalla: spoken words
I feel like this is someone that has gone through their life trying to heal
And succeeding
“I am the writer of my own story”
Some one that doesn’t fit into the ‘traditional’ way that they are supposed to live.
VERY straightforward.
I also thought of someone spiritual, a manifester of sorts.
Kali: mother of the universe.
LISTEN I’ve said how this one is someone non traditional
Now hear me out
I saw this card and thought well we are looking at someone not gender conforming.
I can even go as far as say that is is someone part of the LGBTQ+ community.
“It’s time to be the truth of who I am”
If you put 2 and 2 together, I can say that this is a healing presence for Yoongi, someone that will make him tune in into what he really likes, who he is.
Jung Hoseok ☾✧゜
Lalita: happiness
This made me so soft
Sunshine got his own sunshine
“Laughter leads me back to the light”
Very positive vibes for this one
One of those people that is impossible not to like
Just like him
Sarada Devi
“The presence of love is the absence of judgement”
This is definitely someone open-minded
In many ways
Someone that has no trouble with Hobi’s way of life
As in
He had to cancel last minute because there’s this thing at the studio? Sure no problem.
They don’t doubt one bit his love and devotion
And understands that they are not walking the same path
But rather walking each of their paths together.
Vajrayogini: liberation
A carefree soul
I feel like this someone is helping Hoseok feel free again
As in
Don’t get him wrong he loves doing what he does but sometimes your career ties you down
But all of those are gone with them.
A fourth card popped up: Mary Magdalene
Along with all those things, this someone is someone very down to Earth
They know where they stand
None of that getting their head get full of it for dating Hoseok
They are themselves and will stay themselves no matter what.
Kim Namjoon ☾✧゜
Marguerite Porete: mystic
Right off the bat, a soulmate connection
I’ll have to say soul family at least
A very divine love
Not like codependent but very very into each other
I feel like most probably this is a female, or someone that identifies as such
Namjoon president? very much so
This is someone important
I see power
In like- a position wise type of way
I’ll go as far as to say a diplomat cause it’s what comes to mind
Or a business executive
Someone well respected within their own little world
Definitely someone Joon looks up to
Rita of Cascia: impossibles
What’s with these boys and this card
So again, I’m sensing fan or just someone that is not a celebrity
Public figure? sure
But like I said, they run just within their own circle
It also came to mind: foreigner
So yeah, i endorse my thought of a diplomat.
Park Jimin ☾✧゜
The Cosmic Egg
Listen I’m not surprised to get such a card from this man
This is indeed a soulmate connection
Also, filled with lots of love
But mostly like- demonstrations of love
I don’t wanna say they’re that couple full of PDA
but it’s what comes to mind
Teresa of Avila
But I feel like this is an already existing relationship
they keep to themselves
a very NON PUBLIC relationship
I feel like they don’t feel the need to announce it to make it more real
They vibin’
a very soft and chill connection tbh
Machig Labdron
So I feel like these two have known each other for long
This is someone that Jimin has helped through hard times
Chimchim is a healer within so I sense that he has helped them 
“I see light in my own darkness”
Also I feel like they’ve had a troubled past that has turned into love
Jimin was the light that helped them see their true lovable self.
Kim Taehyung ☾✧゜
Mira Bai: true freedom
Okay so this is someone VERY independent
Although they love Tae to death, they know to love themselves first
I can see Tae being a bit intimidated by this way of thinking at first
But learn later that this is his type of person
Yeshe Tsogyal
It came to mind an academic
Whether it is a teacher or an investigator
That academia vibe
A true intellectual
Very curious about life and averything that surrounds them
Just like Tae
Tae most likely learns A LOT from this relationship
And is very fascinated by their brain
“I release all that doesn’t serve me”
This someone knows what they want
And there is just no way around it
Like the first card said, they love Tae but life plans are life plans
Someone that loves to walk their own path
A very grown-up vibe to them
And listen I don’t wanna fall into daddy/mommy issues
But I’m gonna go ahead and say this is some type of inner child healing for Tae
Two very similar POVs but with SO DIFFERENT perspectives
Both curious, but Tae’s comes from a child-like place whereas his s/o views it as something greater, the purpose of the universe type of way.
Jeon Jungkook ☾✧゜
This card was very straightforward with the message
Someone that has been through shit
Jungkook is their well-deserved break at all the trials that the universe has put them through.
“I am pure strength”
I also feel like this is someone that tends to be an avid activist
VERY VERY passionate
and definitely tired of everyone’s bullshit
an old soul, VERY VERY OLD
“I honor my anger by giving voice to it”
Pope Joan
this is someone spiritual to the BONE
“Soul is limitless”
I got the ‘I will turn the world upside down to find you’ vibe too
They know Jungkook is their person
And honestly? They are thriving to just watch how the universe is trying to apologize to them by putting Jungkook on their path
Someone very wise, more so in the sense of life than academic type
like- really really had it coming for both of them
“I am a love that doesn’t leave”
They are also very very committed to this connection
They put their 110% spiritual self on this
I sensed the ‘healer meets healer’ type of connection once they meet
Since this is a very old soul I feel like their soul journey is almost over and Jungkook is kind of a legacy for their learnings.
As always I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to request any other general tarot reading! Have a great day! I promise I’m working on all my other requests, this reading just suddenly came to me and i just had to do it.
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hansolmates · 3 months ago
(secret) lovers | m
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summary; the (not) best friends 2 lovers spin-off where jungkook and you are trying to hide your relationship from his old best friend  pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; established relationship, jiyu is now an old friend and mc went to high school w them, weeb!koo, jk n mc be kinda stanky bc they’re only going to this party for the free booze, soft dom!mc, switch!koo, whiny koo, mc calls jk a slut, cockwarming, gets really soft n’loving at the end, heavy use of the pet name [redacted] i really think this couple is meant to be diabolically dumb together w/c; 2.7k a/n; this couple is really out here living rent free in my mind. jk, mc and jiyu really just are that thruple that i love to hate and hate to love. hope u enjoy this lil spin off! 
[series masterlist]
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“You made it!” 
Jiyu flings her hands out, knocking both your heads with hers in the middle in a surprisingly strong hug. It’s a complete episode of déjà vu, from the way her body smells like the peach lotion she used after gym class to the shade of coral lipgloss. From the corner of your eye, you can see the caramel brunette’s tiny face is inching closer towards your ride, her head tucking in the crook of his neck. 
“Jiyu,” you beam. You’re the first to speak, the first to dip their toe in the water. “You look great!” 
“Thank you!” she pulls away, popping her hip against the doorway. The silky material of her coverup gleams in the sunlight, the silvery material showing off the silhouette of her bikini-clad body. Despite the fact that you’re the one who compliments Jiyu, her gaze floats over to the person next to you, “what a coincidence you two came at the same time and—oh my, and where are my manners! Come in, come in!” 
She moves away from the door, revealing an ornate lobby and two twin stairwells. You can’t help but light up at the beautiful crystal chandelier, flecks of pink and blue flickering in your eyes.  Further down the hallway you spot open glass doors that lead to a large backyard that overlooks the lake. Some people are already sitting by the dock, lounging about with drinks and happy smiles on their faces. 
“Actually,” Oh, he speaks. You think with a small smile on your face, side eyeing the man of the minute, “I forgot the rest of my luggage. We’ll meet you inside.” 
“Okay!” Jiyu smiles, “I’ll make you guys some drinks.” 
As soon as the door shuts, Jeon Jungkook, your boyfriend for three years blurts out, “She still has a crush on me.” 
You snort, taking off the duffle bag that’s hiding behind your back. Continuing to stand awkwardly at the front door, you prepare yourself to console your boyfriend’s worries. “She still has heart-eyes for you, Koo,” you tease, pinching his side. 
His eyes are big and swimming with guilt, “We should tell her.” 
“Oh, baby. We can’t break her heart this weekend.” 
“But love, it’s her birthday.” 
“Exactly,” you chirp, bumping your head against his arm, “can’t break her heart on her birthday.” 
Jiyu is an old high school friend. Class president, straight As, and even vied for prom queen. The only thing she wasn’t able to obtain throughout her high school years was Jeon Jungkook, the object of her affections. They were best friends in elementary school, eventually turning into distant friends as their interests changed and they got older. Yet, Jiyu still tried to insert herself into Jungkook’s life. Back in high school it was surely cute, the way she’d pine from the back of the room and place anonymous love letters in his locker, but Jungkook wasn’t interested and avoided any of her advances. Fast forward ten years later and it seems like old flames never die out. 
The meetups with Jiyu have been scarce since college and only in large groups. As former class president, she decided to hold a little reunion for her old friends, taking advantage of her stellar job benefits. A weekend in the woods, perfectly balmy and far away from the city. 
“I don’t wanna lie,” Jungkook nearly whines, pink lips warbling at your inability to budge. 
“Mm,” you hum, tracing the fingers across the seam of his back pocket. His boardshorts hide nothing, and you curl your fingers around the swell of his plump bum, “be good for me and tell a little white lie, will you?” 
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Jeon Jungkook, former President of the Anime Club, prom king candidate and your favorite nerd in the entire world. 
A teeny tiny lie won’t hurt anyone. After all, you haven’t seen your high school buddies in literal years, and they wouldn’t dare bother to make a fuss about your relationship. In fact, they don’t know of your relationship with Jungkook. The two of you reconnected randomly, some spontaneous holiday party Kim Seokjin is always inclined to throw. You barely made eye contact the first two hours into it, not really wanting to go back to the hellhole that was your late teenage years. Nevertheless, by the end of the night the two of you couldn’t help yourself. 
As you look around the room with utmost confidence, the two of you have made the finest glow up by far. At first you wanted to keep the white lie to save face, you don’t owe anyone an explanation as to how you and the President of the Anime Club hooked up. However, you’re starting to enjoy the ruse. 
Jungkook’s sitting on the other side of the backyard, looking absolutely delicious as he sips on whatever fruity cocktail he created. Judging from yours, you have a feeling his drink probably consists of 95% orange juice and 5% alcohol. 
Jiyu and him are sitting in the large netted hammock, swinging lightly. Gravity is doing its thing, and Jiyu is practically laying on top of Jungkook’s lap, her body pooling to where his meets in the middle. As soon as his thigh touches hers, his eyes flicker to you in panic. He’s shirtless, only with a pair of mid-cut shorts to protect him. The skin that touches him probably burns. 
You wink and wave him away, assuring him it’s fine. Pretending to flip your hair, you turn back to the conversation you’ve been ignoring for the past five minutes. “Man, Jungkook’s so sexy,” Im Nayeon cooes, looking longingly at Jungkook’s form. 
“Jiyu’s so lucky,” Rina eggs on, taking another shot from the tray (a tray for herself, you might add.) 
“Do you think Jiyu’s gonna get some birthday sex tonight?” 
Nayeon snorts, covering her flared nostrils with her hand. That hand eventually loops around your thigh, eagerly pushing you two together by pressing on the meat of your bare skin. “If she’s lucky! Besides, we all know Jungkook had that big crush on you junior year!” 
Her pretty bunny teeth tease you, and you can’t help but smile back in return. “What do you mean, he really liked me?” you ask innocently. 
“Oh yeah! Drew so many little pictures of you in the margins. Little anime versions of you in his favorite outfits.” Of course, you know about Jungkook’s old crush on you. He’s mentioned it in passing, paired with an adorable blush on his cheeks. Hearing it from Nayeon, the shameless grin on her lips and the ease of champagne on her breath is much more entertaining. “Rina, do you remember when Jungkook set up her desk with rose petals and chocolate in a little heart? And then in the morning the janitor sweeped it up? He was so sad!” 
“Yes! I really felt for him,” Rina pouted. 
“Oh, poor baby,” you didn’t know that bit of information. You put a hand over your heart, watching as Jungkook shares a drink with his old friend Kim Mingyu. He looks so different, yet all the same since you’ve been acquaintances in high school. He carries his own weight now, an air of confidence that he’s finally reached over time.  
“Definitely not a baby anymore,” Rina scoffs. She clicks her tongue back to where Jungkook is seated. 
The sun is doing wonders for him, highlighting every crevice of where his biceps curl and twist as he lifts his hand in another drink. Their side of the lawn is doing a toast. For what, you don’t know. You do know however, that Jiyu is trying very hard to cheer right over Jungkook’s thighs, spilling some liquid over his knees. You smirk when Jiyu sends him an apologetic grin, dabbing a napkin up and across his thighs, far away from the wet spot. 
Jungkook, the poor guy, discreetly shoves her off. He brushes his hands and gets up, letting Jiyu fall back in the hammock all by herself. Avoiding the teasing gazes of his friends, he looks into the lake, hiding his blush. 
Still a baby, you think. Your baby. 
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“Jiyu was practically sitting in your lap, baby boy,” you card your hand through his dark locks, fresh and shiny from the shower. The feeling is soothing to Jungkook’s scalp until you tug, arching his neck towards your lips and twisting, “did you like that,” you mumble into his Adam’s apple, “my little slut?” 
“N-no! Never, ohgodnever—” Jungkook is sweating, fat beads rolling down his hairline and glistening across his face. His fingers are practically phasing through your skin, the crescents of his fingernails sinking into the swell of your bottom. 
You clench around his dick, your soft folds urging Jungkook closer to his release. But he knows better not to move, and instead shudders from the ministrations, breaking apart from you to dip his head into your chest. His nose pokes at the bouncy flesh, nuzzling into your breast like the softest pillow. 
“Sh-shit, love,” he cries into your skin, “you feel so warm n’soft.” 
“You need to be quiet, baby,” you murmur, playing with the curls that hang around the nape of his neck, “unless—you want someone to hear? My little slut wants everyone to hear that I’m fucking you?” 
“Mm, no,” you grin at his honest reaction, and you can feel his neck heating up at the thought. Your fingers make their way, finally ending towards the apples of his cheeks. You squish lightly, loving the way his tanned skin puffs under your fingers. “I’m—ah—not a slut. I just really love you, only you. Really wanted to hold you in my lap today and show you off,” he whimpers at the unconscious clench of your folds, “just uh—slut for you, love.” 
You giggle, tightening your thighs around your boyfriend’s tiny waist. Your other hands trail down to the ridges of his abdomen, where you two are connected. You absolutely love the way your thighs wrap around his lean waist. 
Jiyu split the floors by girls and boys, as if you’re still in high school. It took forever for everyone to fall asleep, but you managed to sneak away with your bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor. Call yourself needy, but you couldn’t imagine yourself falling asleep with at least one good night kiss. Jungkook was ten steps ahead of you. Your boyfriend was already naked when you arrived, pumping his cock across the bed and getting himself ready for you. His eyes instantly zeroed in on you in his shirt, the black material hanging off your shoulder and begging to be pulled away by his teeth. 
“If I crawled in your lap today,” you murmur into his shoulder, “our whole secret would’ve been thrown out the window.” 
“I wouldn’t have minded, even if Jiyu got hurt,” Jungkook admits, running his hands up and down your back, “I wanna marry you, y’know.” 
You freeze in your ministrations, suddenly feeling the room go cold. Not in an unpleasant way, but the room freezes, the blue-white light of the moon igniting the seriousness in Jungkook’s gaze. You force yourself to stay on his lap, let his cock settle between your folds. The juices of your coupling are dripping down each other’s legs, cooling at your thighs and onto the white blankets. 
“You wanna marry me?” you echo, running your thumbs across his shiny lips. 
Of course, you’re at that age. Everyone around you is getting married, heck many people your age are already in the middle of creating a family, going on vacations to Disney and picnics in the playground. And yes, you also have thought about marrying Jungkook, he’s the only man you can picture marrying. Yet, hearing it out loud and from him only further fuels your desire to make these thoughts a reality. 
He kisses your thumbs, lips smushing against the pads. “Of course I do, love. You’re it for me.” 
You relinquish, slowly pulling yourself off of him. He’s still hard as you untack yourself, his member slapping against his belly button as he watches you in confusion. You make a show of fluffing up the pillows, arching your back and wiggling your ass as you make yourself comfortable to lay on your back. 
“Show me, baby,” you spread your legs for him, gesturing for him to come closer with a curl of your finger, “show me how much you want to marry me.” 
Jungkook smirks, hands immediately pumping with a squelching sound resulting from yours and his combined arousal. You love it when Jungkook takes the lead, just as much as you do. It makes you feel like a pillow princess, especially when you feel lovey sex is on the way. “Will you be quiet? Just like you tried to make me quiet?” he rasps, wrapping a hand around your waist to arch you up. 
“Depends on how good you are.” 
The head of his dick rubs against your clit, slapping lightly at the shiny skin. You both moan when he finally gives you what you both need. As soon as the tip of his dick sinks down, you feel like you’ve both hit home. It doesn’t take long for him to find his pace, naturally throwing your leg over his shoulder for added leverage. 
“Oh—fuck, baby,” you tug at his hair, pulling him in for a wet kiss. You don’t care that you’re slobbering all over him, the bed creaking and squeaking against his minstraitions. “I—uh, you feel so deep—yes!” 
“When we’re married I’ll fuck you every day like this, love,” he whispers between your lips, thrusting in a particularly sensitive spot that has you arching your back and pulling your chest to his, “I—ugh, I love you so much.” 
“Love you. Love youlovelove—ah! Kook, I’m—” 
The two of you don’t spare any time, the sun will eventually rise and you’ll be back to playing strangers. Jungkook pounds you into the mattress, nails you with enough cum for you to last the next day without having to sneak into each other’s room like horny teenagers. The roughness is smoothed out by love and bliss, eager at the thought of going home and anticipating a permanent life together. 
Five minutes later, you’re starting to feel a little too sticky. “Ohmygod—I need to fucking pee,” you pull yourself away from Jungkook’s sweaty body, palming around for your t-shirt.
“Just pee on the bed,” Jungkook grins. 
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” you make a face, “nasty.” 
“You like that I’m nasty.” 
“Yeah yeah.” 
With one last kiss, you skip away from his bedroom and close the door behind you. Unfortunately, as soon as you take five steps in the direction of the bathroom, somebody emerges from the shadows. 
“Holy shit, Jiyu,” you put a hand on your heart, eyes widening at her peeking in from the hallway. “You scared me.” 
“I’m so sorry,” she frowns, squinting her eyes to make you out in the dark. It’s easier to see her in her white slip, a thin chiffon material that barely covers her thighs. 
You don’t question why she’s out in the hallway in really pretty lingerie, or why she’s on the boy’s side of the house. So much for being discreet. Then again, there must be an ulterior motive for her if she’s already here, five feet away from Jungkook’s room. You wouldn’t have been caught if she hadn’t been so sneaky. (Well, not so sneaky. You got to him first.) You smell like sweat, arousal, and Jungkook. The shirt you’re wearing feels far too short and the cum in your panties feels tacky and gooey. You feel like a teenager being caught smoking. 
“Why?” Jiyu’s voice suddenly sounds as dark as the early morning, no sign of the sun. 
“Why what?” you answer, furrowing your brows at the sudden change in demeanor. 
“Why?” she hisses, eyes wide with pain and confusion, “why Jungkook?” 
You frown, not liking her attitude. Did she think it was a contest to who would fuck Jungkook first? Did she think she was being slick, sneaking away into a bedroom she has no business being in, even if he was single? You could laugh. So despite your height you steel yourself, looking at Jiyu straight in the eye. 
“Because Jungkook’s mine, and I’m marrying him.” 
As you pad down the hallway as fast as you can, you send Jungkook a quick text. 
[5:44AM] love: pack it up. Plan b go fake a fever we gotta go lol
222 notes · View notes
whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 months ago
dreaming in reality, m | myg, jjk
pairing(s): yoongi x reader x jungkook
summary: The wrong guy shows up in your car – Jeon Jungkook. Again. He’s less drunk this time, but no less weird. Then the right guy shows up. Min Yoongi. You know, the guy you fucked in Jungkook’s bed that one time. Guess he can convince you to do anything. Like, say, take Jungkook’s virginity. Don’t worry, he’ll help.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language, tiny bit of crack; alcohol consumption; violence? someone gets slapped lol; technically Jungkook’s first time; smut (fem reader, threesome, slightly degrading dirty talk, nipple play, fingering, f-receiving oral, penetrative sex, partial handjob); non-idol!AU - friends with benefits / lovers? with Yoongi; Yoongi is a very bad boy and he knows it; JK is blond and wearing his ‘ON’ and ‘Dynamite’ GDA 2021 outfits (except w/o the white blazer)
a–dick–ted au yes that’s what I’ve decided to call this this was supposed to be just more Yoongi smut but then Jungkook decided he’d like this to be about him, what can you do?
"Can you pick me up tonight?"
"Mhm. What are you wearing?"
A deep chuckle. "Eager to undress me?"
"I'm doing you a favor. There's no guarantee you'll get more than that."
"Hmmm." That low raspy voice did not believe you. "White dress shirt, black jeans. Can't miss me."
He hung up. 
White shirt, black jeans. You remembered to lock your car doors this time, so you turned around to press the button so he could get in. The door opened and the young man slid inside, reeking of alcohol. Wait. Some kind of belt harness around a thin waist. Ashy blond hair. Hand tattoos. Thick thighs. Chiseled jaw.
"I need to talk to you, noona."
"Get out."
Jeon Jungkook was not as drunk as before. He was definitely drunk, but not piss drunk like last time. His eyes were unfocused and he was nervously biting his pink lower lip. The mole underneath bounced up and down as he chewed it mercilessly. He swallowed and undid the first few buttons of his shirt, revealing his tan, muscular pecs. Oh, thank the Lord, Jungkook remembered to wear a shirt underneath, although it was a very low-cut white t-shirt. He kept running his hand through his currently blond hair tensely, revealing the shadow root. Well, it was well done at least. He had a good hairstylist. You hadn't realized Jungkook changed it, so he must have done it recently.
Probably to get attention and remind every human being that he was hot.
You still weren't convinced he wasn't a dirty little fuckboy.
"Why are you sitting in my car showing off your nervous ticks?" you said irritably.
"I gotta ask you something."
His black boots were a little dirty from the party. Outside, the drunks were as loud as ever, with the same seven girls on the porch craning their heads to gawk at Jungkook in your car. Different house, same scene, and drunk Jeon Jungkook sitting in your passenger's seat, once again being the wrong guy sauntering into your car. 
Where the fuck was the correct guy?
"Look, psycho, fucking spit it out or yeet. I'm not repeating what happened last time."
Jungkook's dark brown eyes flickered to you, turning his body to face yours. Running his tattooed right hand through his bleached hair over and over, spreading the golden strands, the ashy tone catching the low light of the lampposts. Jaw flexed, tiny pink tongue darting out and licking his lips. He was a little sweaty, cheeks hollowed in a little with how hard he was breathing. 
You raised an eyebrow. 
"You have ten seconds before I kick you out and believe me when I say I have leg strength."
"Are you and Yoongi-hyung dating?" Jungkook asked suddenly. 
You made a face at him.
He sucked in a breath, brows furrowing at your response. “Because I could have sworn…”
Your mind flickered back to that faithful night. Shit. You shouldn’t have let Min Yoongi convince you to sleep right there in Jungkook’s apartment. You remembered his wicked smirk, his deep, raspy voice in your ear, Jungkook’s not going to know and don’t you want to do bad things with me? Don’t you want to be bad with me? He could make you do anything at this point. You two fell asleep on Jungkook’s bed. Next to hungover Jungkook.
You mentally slapped yourself.
“What made you come to that conclusion?” you snapped, narrowing your eyes.
Jungkook tilted his head, sucking in his cheek. It made a sharp sound and his tongue flashed against his white teeth for a split second. You almost flinched. He pursed his lips and kept his gaze on you. You were wearing a tight white high-necked crop top, oversized black hoodie, and high-waisted black shorts. Dark pink and violent violet chunky sneakers. Almost no makeup. Hair tied back into low pigtails with one pink and one purple scrunchie to match your sneakers.
Oh shit. The hoodie wasn’t yours.
Hopefully Jungkook wasn’t perceptive enough to figure that out.
He said it strangely, breathlessly. Almost sexually. You recoiled a little. Jungkook was leaning forward, giving you a clear view down his shirt, blond hair falling into his face, covering one eye. His alcoholic breath floating towards you, far too close for your liking.
“I…” Jungkook swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I want… to…”
The door to your passenger’s seat was roughly yanked open.
Jungkook jumped, throwing his back into the seat, brown eyes wide and staring at the newcomer. White dress shirt, two sizes too big, with ties at the wrists to cinch in the bishop-style sleeves. Black jeans, distressed with several mismatched patches. Silver chains on his black leather belt and around his pale neck. Black hair, pointed dark eyes like a cat.
A single, cocked eyebrow.
“Let me guess,” drawled Min Yoongi, the correct guy you were supposed to be picking up, looking from you to Jeon Jungkook, who was impossibly flat against the car seat. Yoongi sounded amused. “He just waltzed in.”
You narrowed your eyes. “No, I locked my doors this time.”
Yoongi’s gaze flickered to Jungkook, who still seemed mildly terrified, and then back to you. The glint in his dark brown eyes was far from innocent. His fair cheeks were a little pink.
“Ah, so you wanted Jungkook in your car?” There was an edge to his voice, almost dangerous, but to you it was Yoongi’s usual teasing. Jungkook looked like he was preparing for his own death. Both of you ignored him for the moment.
“You said white dress shirt and black jeans,” you scowled. You gestured Jungkook up and down. “Hello?”
Jungkook’s thighs tensed and bulged against his tight jeans. Eyes still as wide as saucers. He hadn’t blinked in a good thirty seconds.
“We have the same excellent taste and style. How fortunate for you,” Yoongi purred. Then he finally patted Jungkook’s thigh, making him start and let out a panicked squeak. “You want noona to drop you off, Jungkookie? She’d be happy to.”
“No, I wouldn’t,” you gritted out.
“Yes, she would,” Yoongi said cheerfully. He slammed the front car door and opened the backseat. You rolled your eyes and stared straight ahead. Even from here you could smell the whiskey. Yoongi hummed and you snuck a glance at him through the rearview mirror.
He looked positively beside himself with glee.
Hmph. Fine.
His loss.
“You bleached your hair, Jungkook?” Yoongi said absentmindedly as you started up the car.
Jungkook ran a hand through it once again. “Uh, yeah. What do you think, hyung?”
“Hm, looks good. Too much upkeep for me, personally. Seatbelt.”
Jungkook hastily went to grab his seatbelt and put it on. Too bad. You were ready to brake hard and send him flying out the windshield. Just kidding. Maybe. Well, you would have to be going real fucking fast for that to happen. Maybe over ninety or some shit. You pulled out of the neighborhood of houses, already knowing what direction to go in to the correct apartment complex. Yoongi and Jungkook lived in the same building.
So convenient.
You thinned your lips into a line, ignoring their conversation, until Yoongi snapped his fingers and called your name to get your attention. You glared at him through the rearview mirror. Yoongi’s legs were wide open, flopped in your backseat. He grinned at you and placed his hands on the inside of his jean-covered thighs.
Fucking tease.
“Didn’t you say you wanted to dye your hair at some point?”
You shrugged. “Yeah.”
Jungkook sat up, looking at you. You didn’t look at him. “Oh? You’re going blond too?”
You snorted. “I said I wanted to dye my hair, which means a color.”
“What color?” Yoongi asked lazily.
Your eyes flickered to him in the rearview mirror again. He flexed his long fingers and pressed them against his jeans. You tucked your tongue in your cheek. Yoongi was aware Jungkook couldn’t see him and he was also aware you were watching him. Your eyes went back to the road.
Yoongi was also aware that because of Jungkook’s presence, neither of you were getting any tonight, so he resorted to teasing you like the bad boy he was.
“I dunno. Pick one for me,” you said impassively.
Yoongi chuckled, a deep, husky sound, revealing his pink gums and straight white teeth.
You curled your lip, looking around you. Ugh. You hated parties like this. So loud, so annoying, so many idiots. You didn’t understand why Yoongi came to these things. It was probably because of his lively friends. Being social like this was probably a great thing, but this was not your scene.
“No time to chat, Jungkook. Have you seen Yoongi?”
Jungkook was flapping his gums at you. He was still blond. He must be keeping up with his hair care because it still looked soft and ashy. It was swept to one side this night. Powder blue dress shirt, tight against his muscular pecs and white slacks that seemed to be choking his thighs. Brave man, wearing white around this much alcohol and lunacy.
You had to admit, Jeon Jungkook had guts looking like a prince to a peasant’s party.
“Where is he?” you muttered. “Kim Seokjin called and told me to get him because he was asleep.”
“U-uh…” Jungkook looked around as you stepped into the party house, your heavy black boots thudding against the hardwood floor. Short black skirt with silver chains and a black hoodie that said ‘WHATCHU MEAN?’ in neon lime green across your chest. Phone and keys in your hoodie pocket. Other than that, you weren’t wearing anything as of note. Oh.
Your usual ‘fuck off’ mentality.
“I haven’t s-seen him in the past hour,” Jungkook stammered.
“Fat lot of help you are.” You clicked your tongue and moved past him.
“You dyed your hair,” Jungkook blurted suddenly.
You turned your head and looked back at him. “Yeah, so?”
Your hair was now a gradient from a long black shadow root, to dark purple berry, to bright neon red. It was half-tied up with a black scrunchie, a few strands hanging around your face. Jungkook kept staring at it. You raised an eyebrow and turned away from him. Eh, you had no time for this. You needed to grab Yoongi and get the fuck out of here.
“I-I’ll look you help.”
You raised your eyebrows as Jungkook squeezed past you, his hard back pressing against your arm.
“You can’t even speak, you drunkard,” you said, rolling your eyes.
“I mean, I’ll help y-you look, noona,” Jungkook corrected himself, licking his lips nervously, running his right hand through his hair.
He’s hopeless.
Well, better than going alone.
Wordlessly, you followed him throughout the party, opening doors and craning your head over the bodies. So many topless people. Ugh, it was pretty late. By the time you two reached the back of the house, you never wanted to see another nipple ever again. You saw Kim Seokjin at the karaoke machine, blasting eardrums with what you assumed were supposed to be high notes, but, in reality, was simply screaming.
You didn’t even want to walk up to him to ask.
“He might be upstairs,” Jungkook said, swallowing hard.
“Lead the way,” you sighed, annoyed this was taking longer than it needed to.
You made your way up the stairs, pressing yourself against the railing to avoid touching people. Kept your hands in your kangaroo pocket and a scowl on your face. Jungkook suddenly stopped and you collided into him. Fuck. Why did he feel like he was made out of rocks? Stupid muscles.
“Hold on.”
Some guy was sprawled all over the middle of the hallway, unconscious.
“I’ll just step over him.”
Jungkook growled. “No. What if he wakes up and looks up your skirt?” He bent over and picked him up, propping him against the wall. You raised an eyebrow. Like anyone cared what was up your skirt besides Min Yoongi. Whatever. If he wanted to play the part of noble prince, you weren’t going stop him. You waited as Jungkook pushed the guy’s chin down to his chest and motioned you to the hall, towards the many doors. Probably mostly bedrooms. You winced. Probably going to see more nipples. And dicks. And pussy.
And, yep, you were right.
Jungkook tried to shield your eyes, but to be honest, he looked way more scarred than you. You merely shook your head and moved on, door to door. Opened one and saw a girl in a tight black dress crawling on a bed, over a guy in a black biker jacket and acid wash jeans. The hole in the knee was so big you could see half of his pale leg. Hmph. Why bother even wearing pants?
You were about to close the door when you paused. Wait. You’ve seen that black mop of hair before. The girl was kissing down his neck, yanking down the white t-shirt and ripping it. You recognized the grunt of sleepy annoyance.
“Get off him.”
The girl shot up; red lipstick smeared from making out with his neck. You stepped inside and jerked your head towards the door. Voice cold and unrelenting.
She furrowed her brows at you. “Who the fuck are you?”
You narrowed your eyes. “Doesn’t matter. Dude’s asleep. You shouldn’t take advantage of someone who’s asleep.”
“He’s my boyfriend,” she shot back defiantly.
You snorted inelegantly. “No, he’s not. Don’t be stupid.”
The girl shoved herself off the bed, advancing on you, nasty snarl on her lips. “How would you know? Who do you think you are?”
“Not an idiot,” you barked sharply, completely forgetting Jungkook was behind you, gawking at this entire exchange. You looked her up and down and took a step towards her, the aggravation of the past hour reaching breaking point. All that time spent getting here, not being able to find Yoongi, and then discovering some bitch crawling all over him was pissing you off. Like everyone else, alcohol clung to her like the plague. She was furious, ready to catfight you, although you were pretty sure you were going to win this one because you were sober and your boots were a lot more stable than her tall heels.
“Look here, bitch, leave me and my boyfriend alo–”
You slapped her.
Not holding back, not making a sound, just straight up slapped her across the face. The sound was so loud it could be heard over the bass of the music. She nearly crumpled at the force, gasping and choking at air as she stumbled, eyes wide in disbelief, slim hand cradling her face.
“He’s not your boyfriend,” you growled. Your voice was absolute zero with how cold it was. “He will never be your boyfriend. Now get the fuck out of my face before I rearrange yours into the next century.”
She squeaked at you.
Your eyes narrowed and you raised your hand again. She bolted, stumbling on her heels, seeing Jungkook staring, opening her mouth to say something, but you made an inhuman, grating noise deep in your throat. Her shaking eyes connected with yours and you cocked your head in the direction of the door, popping your neck loudly.
She scrambled out of there like her life depended on it.
It did, because you had enough at this point.
“Dumb bitch,” you spat, before releasing the tension from your shoulders. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jungkook’s mouth wide open, deer-in-headlights look on his face. “What?”
“W… Why do you look so hot when you’re angry?”
You scoffed. “What are you talking about?”
“Fuck, you are damn hot when you’re angry.”
Deep, raspy voice that made your spine tingle. You turned your head to see Min Yoongi on his elbows, licking his pink lips. He was definitely drunker this time, cheeks flushed. His fair skin on his neck and cheeks were covered in red lipstick marks. You clicked your tongue at him.
“When did you wake up?”
Yoongi smirked.
You frowned.
“Maybe when you slapped her.” His dark eyes glittered in the low light of the bedroom, lips curving higher and revealing his teeth. “Maybe when you got her attention.” Full-on, open-mouthed smirk now, devilish and wicked. “Maybe when you opened the door.”
A muscle in your forehead twitched. You strode over, looking down. Yoongi slowly lifted his head, pink tongue sliding out and tracing his teeth, cocking an eyebrow. You clenched your jaw.
“I like your hair,” Yoongi purred softly. “You took my advice.”
“I didn’t care what color it was,” you responded evenly. “I left the hairstylist do what she wanted.”
Yoongi arched an eyebrow. “She made your hair match your body. Hot and sexy.”
You matched his raised brow. “You saying my hair wasn’t attractive before?”
Crafty dark brown eyes on yours, intoxicating you like whiskey.
“It always needed me to mess it up before it was truly as sexy as you.”
“Are you guys sure you’re not dating?”
Oh right.
Jungkook was still here.
You turned your head to face him. You hadn’t even noticed that he had walked all the way up to the bed, standing next to you. The door was closed. Who closed it? It was also locked. Your brows furrowed and your eyes flickered back to Jungkook. He was watching you, blond hair covering one chocolate orb, pink lips wet and slightly parted. Tan skin radiant in the low light.
“What are you still doing here?”
His visible eye shifted down your body, pausing at your legs and then shifting to Yoongi. Yoongi gave him a neutral expression. The eyes shifted back to you.
“I was going to help you carry him if hyung was still asleep.” His voice had dropped several octaves.
“Well, he’s obviously awake,” you said dismissively.
Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, more blond hair sliding down, shadowing his face.
“You want me to leave so you can fuck him? Or so he can fuck you?” Jungkook accused.
You raised your eyebrows.
“I told you he liked you.”
You exhaled, shifting your gaze to Yoongi. He was wiping the lipstick off his neck with the collar of his ruined shirt. He looked displeased, nose scrunching as he did so.
“Wanting me to desire him is not the same as liking someone.” You swung your head back to Jungkook, ticking your chin at him. “Isn’t that so, Jungkook?”
There was a moment of silence.
If silence could be bass-boosted music, screaming downstairs, and a bottle smashing somewhere nearby. But in this random bedroom, it was as if time stopped, you staring at Jungkook, Yoongi looking up to witness what was about to unfold, and your slow realization that Jungkook was not answering fast enough.
The younger man shook his blond bushel of hair very, very slowly.
“No, noona.”
His other eye was revealed, both of them trained on you.
“I want you to take my virginity.”
He must be joking.
“And there it is, out in the open,” Yoongi mused.
Jungkook continued, hands in his pockets, chest sticking out from under the tight blue dress shirt.
“Hyung knows this. I told him.”
You let out a soft breath. “You know, Jungkook, you could get any bitch in this house.”
“Don’t want a bitch,” Jungkook retorted, dangerous edge to his voice, slipping into his Busan satoori. “Want you, noona.”
He was way too serious to not mean it. You tucked your hands into your hoodie pocket and flicked your head to remove red strands from your face. 
"Kinda out of left field, kid," you muttered.
You heard Yoongi sit up on the bed and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. He shook his shoulders out and hooked his legs over the edge of the bed, sandwiching one of your thighs between his own. His shirt hung down, ruined and covered with red lipstick from where he tried to wipe it off his neck and cheeks. His neck was pink with irritation.
"Not really," Yoongi chuckled. "He's been eyeing you for a while now. You never noticed because you're too busy being crabby."
He wasn't touching you with his hands and insulting your character instead.
"Speak for yourself, grump."
Yoongi squeezed your thigh with his and you involuntarily shuddered at the slight skin on skin contact due to the giant hole in his pants. Shit. Yoongi snickered. 
"Are you guys dating?" Jungkook snapped irritably.
Both Yoongi and you said it at the same time, glaring at each other. Jungkook might as well have been a lamp. You stared deep into those mischievous brown orbs, black hair messy and covering his brows, teasing smile on his lips. Dating wasn’t the word for it. You weren’t sure there was a word for what Yoongi and you were doing. You could tell he didn’t know either.
It wasn’t dating, that’s for sure.
"Did you guys fuck on my bed or not?"
Before you could respond, Yoongi broke your gaze and looked straight at Jungkook. Jungkook's jaw was clenched tight, dark eyes flashing. Yoongi's voice was slipping into his Daegu satoori as well, deepening and slightly slurred from whiskey. 
"We did."
You clicked your tongue.
Great. Just great. 
"Ate her out and fucked her hard, all over your sheets. Right next to you. She even touched you."
"An accident," you hissed. 
Yoongi ignored you. "Her hand slid up your abs and chest." He chuckled. "It was sexy. You have a nice body, Jungkookie."
"Stop telling him this shit." You raised your hand to smack Yoongi in the arm but he whipped his head back to you, grabbing your wrist out of the air. You stiffened at the touch. He turned your palm to face Jungkook and directed his attention back to him. 
"This hand, in fact."
Were you surprised? No. That was the game. Push the limits, up the ante. You just didn’t think Yoongi would tell Jungkook something like that. Maybe he wouldn’t if he was fully sober. But Yoongi wouldn’t regret it either. He would roll with the wave, as usual.
You were a little irked that you weren’t the one who took the plunge first.
You finally snuck a glance at Jungkook. His jaw was no longer tense and his cheeks were flushed pink. He raised his head to look at you, blond locks swinging, and you looked away. Fucking Yoongi. Always trying to cause trouble. But that's why you kept fucking him. Because he was always finding ways to make your life interesting. 
Maybe you were addicted to the adrenaline he gave you.
Maybe you were just addicted to Yoongi. 
You sensed movement. You tried to pull your wrist out of Yoongi's grasp but he held it tightly. You finally looked back to glare at him, only to be greeted by the sight of Jungkook's blue shirt mostly unbuttoned, his sculpted abs and chest fully on display. Your eyes widened, taking a step back, realizing how close he was. Yoongi yanked you back, grin on his lips. 
A beat passed. 
Your gaze locked with his. 
Don't you dare, Min Yoongi. 
He planted your hand on Jungkook's torso. 
You tried to twist away, but Yoongi held you there, pressing your palm into Jungkook's hard muscles. The younger man sucked in a breath, surveying you through his lashes. A strange shiver traveled from your hand to your spine, pooling down to your core, setting it aflame. Yoongi slid your hand up to Jungkook's pecs. You could feel how hot and heavy Jungkook's breathing was on the back of your hand. His heartbeat raced under your fingers. 
You gulped. 
"Yoongi." Your eyes were on Jungkook and his blown-out pupils, blond bangs all over his forehead. Your pulse roared in your ears. "You said he was sappy. That it had to be the love of his life."
Yoongi chuckled. 
"Noona," Jungkook replied for him in his husky voice. "I’ve been planning for it to be you."
Your eyes flickered back to Yoongi. His other arm slid around your legs, pulling you to him. He made you breathless, looking down into those devilish eyes, pink lips parting a little. You could feel his hand on your thigh, stroking your skin, making you tremble with his touch.
"He asked you to take it," Yoongi purred softly. 
You inhaled deeply. Whiskey. Leather. Yoongi. Your hand was still on Jungkook's chest. You dug your nails into his skin a little. Jungkook moaned, breathy and deep. 
"I'm not taking anything," you whispered. 
Yoongi's hand released your wrist and slid up the back of your hand, each of his long fingers sliding between yours, pressing your joined touch into Jungkook’s chest. Fingers spread over his skin, his breathing vibrating though your palm. All Jungkook had to do was take a step back. 
Why wasn't he taking a step back?
Yoongi squeezed your fingers with his. You could feel the heat building inside you. Desire. His voice became smokey. Lustful. Purring your name softly. 
He could make you do anything when his voice became like that. 
"I'm telling you to take it."
Your mouth went dry.
Yoongi leaned forward, resting his chin right between your covered breasts. So close. Your heartbeat fluttered. Fuck, you wanted to kiss him so very much. You wanted to kiss that naughty mouth, the mouth suggesting sinful and treacherous ideas. Whenever you were with Yoongi, danger always seemed like a good thing.
"Because you feel good when you do bad things."
God, Min Yoongi was a bad boy. 
"And I love watching you do bad things."
Dark orbs glittering with trouble. 
"I’m here with you."
I’m here with you.
His arm around your legs tightened. Your panties were absolutely soaked. Yoongi had you right where he wanted you. He knew it too, even as you pursed your lips. Yoongi finally looked away from you.
"You don't mind that, right, Jungkookie?"
Jungkook shook his head quickly. "No, hyung. Whatever..." He paused, knowing what he was about to say was wrong. His eyes flickered to you. You didn’t look at him. You just stared at the black pile of hair that was Min Yoongi.
Wondering what was going on in that head of his.
"Whatever it takes."
Yoongi removed his hand from Jungkook’s chest. You pulled yours back quickly, still not looking at Jungkook. Yoongi placed his large hands on your hips. Raised his head. Fuck. Trapping you in his devious eyes. He mouthed words at you. So sexy. So fuckable. You mouthed words back. You’re bad. Yoongi grinned, licking his teeth.
“Stand in front of us, Jungkook.”
And Yoongi spun you around to face him, pushing you into his arms. Jungkook’s hands gripped your upper arms, holding you in place. And, for once, Jungkook wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t stumbling into your car by mistake, he wasn’t reeking of alcohol and nervous ticks. If anything.
Jungkook smelled good.
You were staring into his tan chest. Slowly, you looked up. Up his pecs, up his prominent collarbones, up his shapely neck. You could smell the cologne, fresh like clean laundry mixed with the sharpness of the sea. Your eyes continued up, up his sharp jaw, up to the tiny mole under his lower lip, up to his high cheekbones, up into those chocolate orbs. His blond hair hovered over his eyes, shrouding them with gold. Jungkook sucked in a breath as you made eye contact. You cocked an eyebrow.
“I still don’t see why it has to be me.”
Jungkook licked his lips, leaning in.
“Has to be you, noona,” he whispered, breath hot against your lips.
For some reason your heart was beating fast now. Was it Yoongi’s hands sliding down to your thighs, squeezing them? Or was it Jeon Jungkook, pupils dilated and grip tight on your arms, nearly shirtless in front of you?
“I dream about you,” Jungkook breathed. “All the time. The only woman I’ve ever dreamed about touching me, teasing me, feeling all of me.” He frowned a little, tilting his head. “I had sex dreams before, but none of them felt real. None of them were like the ones I had with you. The ones with you were always extremely detailed. It was like all the things you did were really happening. I could finish with them.”
You didn’t have to guess what that meant.
“I could feel everything.”
Jungkook pressed his forehead against yours, ash blond strands mixing with dark red.
“Your nails digging into my skin, you moaning above me.”
His eyes burned with determination. Yoongi’s hands slid up your legs, fingertips sliding under your soaking panties. You were so distracted by Jungkook’s words that you barely felt it. But your body remembered. Your body remembered that orgasm right above Jungkook, Yoongi’s tongue inside you, your hand on his abs, nails curling into them as you came. Jungkook’s voice was so low that it felt as if your heartbeat was resonating with it.
“Make my dreams real.”
Yoongi circled your clit with his index finger, not touching it, making you gasp.
“Taint me, noona,” Jungkook murmured.
You pressed your lips against his and Yoongi pressed his finger against your clit. You whimpered into Jungkook’s mouth, hand slipping inside his shirt to hold his waist, kissing him deeper. Jungkook’s hand came up to cup your face, holding you close as you moaned, feeling Yoongi stroke your sensitive bundle of nerves slowly, working you up. His other hand was holding your ass, squeezing it hard. In comparison, Jungkook’s lips were soft, tongue hesitantly sliding into your lips. You latched around it, sucking on it roughly. Jungkook squeaked, trying to pull away, but you held on, tugging as you bobbed your head back and forth, eyes cracking open as you moaned deep in your throat.
Jungkook was staring at you, fascinated.
You released his tongue and snaked yours into his mouth. Pushing it in, sliding it back out, steadily and deliberately. Jungkook’s eyelashes fluttered, pressing his body into yours, needy cries in his chest, trying to get more. Pleasure spread throughout your hips, spurred upward by Yoongi’s touch. You felt heady and tense, increasing the force you were using to fuck Jungkook’s mouth, breathing in shallow gasps, closing your eyes again, so close, so close. So wrong, making out with Jungkook as Yoongi stimulated your clit to orgasm.
So wrong, but so, so fucking good.
You sucked your tongue back and moaned directly into Jungkook’s mouth as you came, legs shaking, clit throbbing against Yoongi’s fingers as your panties soaked even more, the scent of sex suddenly prominent in this random bedroom. Jungkook gasped, body shuddering and shaking at your exhale, roughly shoving you into his hard chest. Your crotch hit his and you could feel his erection through his tight pants.
The party kept thriving, bass booming the walls, blind to the events about to unfold.
Jungkook drew back, panting. You felt Yoongi withdraw his hand, heard him lick it off. But you were staring at Jungkook, at his swollen lips, at his blue shirt half-pulled off from your touch, revealing his right shoulder covered in black tattoos, blond hair covering half his face.
Beautiful and dangerous, like an angelic incubus.
You felt Yoongi’s hands on your hips again, unzipping your skirt. Slipping it down. Your body reacted, kicking it away. Jungkook’s eyes were fixated on your black panties, pushed to one side from Yoongi’s touch, soaked with your juices.
“Take off your shirt, Jungkook,” Yoongi said as he reached down to unzip your boots.  
Jungkook yanked his shirt out of his pants and tossed it aside, watching Yoongi slowly strip you. Taking your boots and setting them next to the bed, gripping your hoodie and yanking it over your head. You made a disgruntled noise, but he dumped it next to him, showing you the phone and keys were still in the center pocket. You frowned at him, but Yoongi shrugged, unhooking your black bra. You held onto it, covering yourself. Yoongi raised an eyebrow.
“Let him see the tits.”
You clicked your tongue. Then you turned back to face Jungkook, challenging him.
“Jungkook can come and see for himself.”
Jungkook swallowed, taking a step towards you. Chewing on his lip, eyes fixated on your hands holding up your bra. You felt Yoongi’s fingers hook around the sides of your panties. Jungkook stopped right in front of you. Reached forward and gripped one of the bra cups. You held tight, not letting go. Jungkook’s jaw tensed and he yanked at it, pulling it out of your grasp.
You lowered your hands.
“Fuck…” Jungkook breathed. “They’re prettier than I thought.” His hand raised, but then he stopped, looking at you hesitantly. “Can I… touch them?”
You arched a brow. “Never touched tits before?”
“I want to ask you,” Jungkook replied softly. “I want to know you want it too.”
Chocolate eyes framed in gold, enchanting you.
You reached up and took his wrist, guiding his hand to your chest. You were breathing hard, making them bounce a little. Pressed his palm into your hard nipple, shivering at the different hand, the different feeling. You felt Yoongi slide your panties down, down. You slid Jungkook’s hand down, wrapping his fingers around your nipple. He gasped, rolling the nub between his fingers, watching your face as you moaned, Yoongi’s fingers crawling between your legs once again.
You pointed to your other nipple.
“Mouth, here.” Stared into Jungkook’s ravenous eyes. “Please.”
Jungkook bent down and licked your nipple, coating it with saliva. Your hand slid up the back of his head, tangling in the soft blond locks, pulling him closer.
“More, Jungkook…”
He whimpered your name, pinching your nipple as you said his. You gasped softly as his lips closed around your nipple, sucking lightly, tongue pressed against the tip and moving it around, rubbing the other at the same time. You sank your teeth into your lower lip as you felt Yoongi slide two fingers into you, so easy because he had made you cum beforehand, fucking you as Jungkook made out with your tits. You stared down Jungkook’s muscular back, admiring the way his muscles rippled as he moved. Your hips bucked in Yoongi’s hand, leaning forward so he could finger you deeper, shoving your nipple into Jungkook’s mouth. He sucked hard, nipping lightly, and you threw your head back, pleasure flowing all over. Jungkook switched sides and hands, rubbing your wet nipple with his thumb as he teased the other, flicking the hardened nub with his tongue. Rougher, matching Yoongi’s pace in your pussy, shoving his fingers so far into your pussy that you felt his knuckles.
Yoongi against your back, purring your name.
“Cum for me,” he murmured, low and raspy. “Cum all over my hand as Jungkook abuses your nipples.”
Fuck, his satoori, his words.
Yoongi had you wrapped around his fingers in all senses.
“Mm, fuck, fuck…”
You moaned loudly as you came, legs shuddering, rutting your breasts into Jungkook’s face as your hand pressed him into your tits, grinding your hips into Yoongi’s hand as your pussy clenched around his fingers, drenching them with your orgasm once again. Jungkook moaned into your chest, burying his nose into your tits, tongue pressed against your skin.
“Ah, fuck, you taste so good, noona…”
Yoongi chuckled, slowly pulling his fingers out of you.
“You haven’t tasted anything, Jungkook.”
And then Yoongi fell back against the bed, taking you with him. You had to release Jungkook’s head, whining at the loss of his warmth. Yoongi dipped his knees down and shoved them between your thighs, spreading them wide. He slid you down his body, forcing you to expose your wet pussy to Jungkook’s wide, voracious eyes.
“Have a taste.”
Jungkook’s eyes flickered to you. At this point, it was doomed. You wanted Jungkook’s tongue and your needed it now. Your voice was grating, tainted with lust.
“Get on your knees and taste me, Jungkook,” you growled.
Jungkook obeyed immediately, kneeling before you and crawling up to your thighs, extending his pink tongue, nearly drooling. Chocolate eyes watching your face.
Yoongi shoved his wet fingers into your lips.
You grunted in protest, but then Jungkook’s tongue touched your wet slit, lapping greedily as he watched Yoongi’s fingers slide in and out of your mouth. You moaned around them, licking off your taste as Jungkook moaned into your pussy, coating his tongue with your sweet, thick juices.
“O-oh, fuck, hyung, noona…” he panted hotly into your core. “Tastes so fucking good.”
“Told you,” Yoongi chuckled triumphantly, slowly fucking your mouth.
“Wanna be in here so bad, hyung…”
You make a gargled noise around his fingers and he pulled them out, humming in his chest so your head vibrated with the sound.
“I’m not taking him raw,” you gasped out as Jungkook’s tongue swiped over your clit. Your breathing hitched as he lapped at it experimentally and he continued after witnessing your reaction. Your hand slid down and gripped Yoongi’s wrist, moan torn out of you as Jungkook’s licking intensified. Almost too much, forcing you to tighten your core, juices leaking out of your slit and onto his chin.
“Don’t worry. I came prepared.”
Your jaw tightened as you neared orgasm. Of course, Yoongi came prepared.
“You planned this.”
“Did I?”
Far too amused and teasing to be innocent. Your back arched as Jungkook increased the suction, your head tipped back against Yoongi’s chest, barely being able to see him upside down, mouth open as you panted. Yoongi smirked at you.
“Or did I simply assist little Jungkookie in convincing noona to take his virginity?”
His words and your orgasm hit you like a truck, hands flying up to grip Yoongi’s shoulders as you nearly screamed Jungkook’s name, thighs threatening to clamp his head if it wasn’t for Yoongi’s strong legs spreading them out. Your body fell limp onto Yoongi’s chest, flooding Jungkook’s mouth with your orgasm. Jungkook groaned, drinking it up, hands coming up to hold your hips down as he sucked it out of you.
“Not all of it, Jungkook,” Yoongi warned. “Keep her wet for you.”
Jungkook whined, drawing back, lips shiny and glossy with your cum. His pink tongue snaked out, swiped over his lips, scooping it all into his mouth, the action obscene and arousing all at once.
“Fuck, noona’s pussy tastes so good…”
Yoongi lifted your limp body and dragged you up the bed, placing his head on the pillows and positioning you on top of him. You scoffed, back and ass pressed against Yoongi’s still fully clothed body.
“You want him to fuck me on top of you?”
“Of course,” Yoongi answered smugly. “I can help him get into position and he can get back at me for fucking you on top of him.”
“You didn–”
Yoongi pinched your nipples, cutting you off as he flicked the sensitive nubs, turning you into a moaning mess in seconds. Your legs tried to close, but once again Yoongi hooked his around yours and spread them out for Jungkook, who was stripping off his pants. Your eyes widened seeing Jungkook’s cock straining against his boxer briefs. Yoongi had a great dick. The best dick. But Jungkook had never been in a woman before and he was impossibly hard because of it, gasping as he pushed his underwear down, leaking pre-cum everywhere. Either that or he really was very, very turned on by you.
For the first time throughout this entire night, it really hit you that Jungkook actually liked you. That he was not a fuckboy and he genuinely wanted you to take his virginity, so much so that, somehow, he convinced Yoongi, your partner-in-crime, your other half in this long-winded sexual escapade of pushing each other closer and closer to the edge, until one of you fell.
Yoongi clasped his hands around your upper arms, sucking in an excited breath.
Your breathing caught in your throat.
Or maybe.
Maybe both of you had already fallen.
And both of you were twisted enough to be ridiculously turned on by Jungkook crawling onto the bed, eyes glazed with desire, desperate to fuck you. Yoongi tapped your arm and pressed a condom into your palm.
“Put it on him.”
You motioned Jungkook forward and he scooted up, sucking in his lower lip. The tiny mole underneath quivered as you ripped open the condom, reaching awkwardly to roll it down his thick cock. You inhaled sharply, feeling his warmth against your fingers. Your eyes flickered up to him and he swallowed, chest rattling nervously.
“H… How do I…?”
“Hands on the bed,” Yoongi said behind you. Jungkook placed his hands on the bed, on either side of Yoongi’s arms, next to your head. He stared into your eyes. You placed your hands on his hips and scooted him down so he was positioned above you.
“Give me one of my legs, Yoongi,” you said softly, still keeping eye contact. Yoongi let go of your right leg and you raised it, Jungkook moving his hand so you could place your calf on his shoulder.
“Do I just…?”
He missed.
“Try again,” Yoongi whispered gently. “Hyung will help you.”
Jungkook chewed on his lip and lowered his hips again, gasping as Yoongi’s fingers wrapped around his cock and led him to your pussy. You lifted your hips so Yoongi could see better. The head pressed against your entrance.
“A-ah…” you breathed. “There.”
“Push,” Yoongi instructed.
Jungkook slowly slid in. He winced. “She’s too tight.”
“Relax,” Yoongi chided you. “He’s not me. He can’t handle all that yet.”
“I am,” you shot back. “He’s not pushing hard enough.”
Yoongi huffed. “Fine. Shove it all in there, Jungkook.”
Jungkook’s eyes widened. “Won’t that hurt you?”
Instead of waiting for Yoongi to answer, your hands came up and grabbed Jungkook’s hips, forcing his cock deep into you. He yelped at the sudden rush of pleasure, eyes rolling back into his head. You held him down, not letting him move, trying very hard not to tighten around his dick because, holy fuck, Jeon Jungkook had a nice cock, filling you up and stretching you out with his hardness, unforgiving and wonderful, reminding you of Yoongi’s.
Except, well, Yoongi usually didn’t look like he was going to pass out.
You had to bite your tongue so you wouldn’t laugh. Yoongi pinched your arm, already knowing your reaction. You hissed, pulsing around Jungkook’s cock. The younger man moaned, lowering his head, blond hair falling like a curtain. His eyes found yours. Jungkook’s gaze so intense it made your shiver, nails digging into his hips.
Outside the locked bedroom door, someone was yelling at someone else about cheating or something frivolous like that.
“You can move whenever you’re ready, Jungkook,” Yoongi finally said.
“Excuse me, I’m right here,” you interjected.
“Shh, don’t complain.” Yoongi’s hand stroked your red hair, flaring it out on his chest. “Let Jungkookie use you.”
Your chest tightened.
You felt yourself get wetter around Jungkook’s cock.
“What did you say to me?” you breathed. One of your hands lowered from Jungkook’s hip and gripped Yoongi’s wrist tightly. The tone of your voice changed, not quite so harsh anymore, turning needy and thin, breathless. Jungkook was watching you curiously. You felt your ears heat.
Yoongi’s free hand slid around your waist. You couldn’t see his face, but you saw Jungkook’s eyes slide upwards, observing his hyung. A mischievous spark suddenly appeared in those dark brown eyes. Yoongi cupped your breast, stroking your nipple lightly. Shallow, tight breaths, waiting for Yoongi’s response.
“I said,” Yoongi drawled. “Let Jungkookie use you.”
Oh no.
Oh shit.
Why were you suddenly so horny? It suddenly got so hot, suddenly so aware you were sandwiched between Jeon Jungkook’s hard dick and Min Yoongi’s fully clothed body, and Jungkook was going to fuck you into this random bed and into Yoongi himself. So very wrong. So very bad.
And you wanted it.
Jungkook raised his hips and pushed back into you, clenching his jaw. You were so wet that it was easy, not enough for your sudden hunger.
“Not too far,” Yoongi instructed. “You’re going to fall out if you pull out too far.” Yoongi nudged your hip. “Up.” You raised your hips and pressed your thigh against your chest. “Jungkook, angle yourself higher.”
Jungkook shifted and got more on his knees. “Like this?”
“Mhm. Go harder.”
Jungkook slapped his hips into you and you gasped, pressing your head into Yoongi’s chest. He stopped, looking worried.
“She’s fine.”
“Are you su–?”
“Jungkook,” you snarled. “Listen to him and just fuck my damn hole so I can get off.”
Jungkook’s eyes widened at your dirty words. Yoongi chuckled.
“She’ll be fine, Jungkook. Focus on yourself for now. Don’t go faster or you’ll cum too fast,” Yoongi cautioned. “At least for the first time. Go harder so you can feel it all.”
Jungkook bit his lip and began to slowly, but roughly, fuck you. Smacking your hips together with force, gasping at every descent, your pussy squeezing the full length when it was inside you. His gasps turned into moans, your breathy name, eyes closing as he thrust into you.
“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook groaned. “Fuck, she’s so wet, so tight…”
“Like your dreams?” Yoongi teased.
Jungkook seemed not to notice. “Better. Fuck, so much better, hyung, oh my God…”
“Harder,” Yoongi commanded. “I know you can go harder, Jungkookie.”
You moaned deeply as Jungkook rammed his hips into you, the wet squelch loud and lewd, so obvious if someone was listening outside, even through the music. But none of you cared, none of you noticed the bed squeaking as Yoongi spurred Jungkook on gently, having him increase the pace, making your body shudder with pleasure, mouth opening and tongue hanging out as you gasped for breath.
“You wanna cum, Jungkook?” Yoongi asked breathlessly, becoming hard under you as you cried out in pleasure, the base of Jungkook’s cock splattered with your juices.
“Not yet,” Jungkook whined.
“Alright, stop for a second.”
Yoongi placed a hand on Jungkook’s waist and pushed him all the way into you. You whimpered, so close to orgasm but cut off by Jungkook stopping, clenching around his cock as the head hit you deep inside.
Yoongi dropped his voice, speaking to you.
“Give him a hug.”
You gripped Jungkook’s cock and pulsated around it. Jungkook groaned, throwing his head back as his cock throbbed against your walls, roughly massaged by your pussy.
“Oh, fuck me…”
Jungkook began to move again, harder and faster now, lost in his lust, chasing his pleasure.
“Doesn’t it feel nice?” Yoongi purred to you. Your heartbeat skipped as Jungkook pounded you into Yoongi, biting your lip hard and whimpering as he fucked you mercilessly, lack of practice making it an erratic rhythm, watching his thick cock pump in and out of you, so good, so rough, using you.
Your name drifted from Yoongi’s lips, smokey and devious, driving you insane. Your head tipped back, staring at the ceiling, gasping as Yoongi’s words worked into you.
“You love it, don’t you?” Yoongi drawled. “You love Jungkook using you, fucking you like his own personal gloryhole, hm?”
Oh, fuck.
You whined pathetically, liquid gushing down Jungkook’s cock as you came, core tightening, Jungkook fucking you harder, grunting as he clenched his jaw, feeling you massage his length harshly. Yoongi pinched your nipples, lengthening your orgasm, and you squeezed your eyes shut, pleasure overwhelming your senses, consuming you, feeling nothing but Jungkook’s cock, Yoongi’s hands, and Yoongi’s words corrupting you.
“Fuck, you’re so sexy letting Jungkook use you like this,” Yoongi growled. “So generous, letting Jungkook fuck your tight little hole with his big cock, hm?” He rolled your nipples in his fingers and rubbed them hard.
“A-ah, Yoongi!”
“No, no,” Yoongi scolded, pinching them firmly and making your squeal. “Tell Jungkook how good he’s doing. Tell him how good he feels inside you, naughty girl.”
You opened your eyes to see Jungkook’s sweaty face, brows furrowed, jaw tight as he smacked your hips together over and over, veins popping in his neck and forehead. His cock was jerking inside you, close. So close.
“F-fuck, Jungkook,” you gritted out, feeling Yoongi release your nipples and bounce your tits in time with Jungkook’s thrusts. “Fuck, you’ve doing so good, can’t believe this is your first time, you’re so fucking strong and so fucking big, fuck…”
Jungkook’s dark eyes fixated on you, your bouncing tits, your open mouth, your glazed eyes, hips fucking him back as he fucked you.
“It’s because you have the perfect pussy, noona,” he growled, leaning down, pressing you into Yoongi, getting a deeper angle, nearly hitting your cervix. His breath was hot and erotic against your face, eyes flickering up to Yoongi before boring into yours, capturing you, dragging into his pace and his cock slamming into your hips.
“The perfectly tight little gloryhole for me to use.”
You cried out, something inside you snapping, cumming again all over Jungkook’s cock, your juices sliding down your thighs and his thighs, smearing into Yoongi’s jeans, dripping everywhere, so much, oh, God, so fucking intense that your pussy clamped around Jungkook’s cock. He moaned your name right into your face, thrusting one last time, pumping the condom full, stretching it out against your walls, so much you could feel it and his cock throbbing against your walls, trying to get it all out.
Yoongi didn’t even bother to ask. He simply reached down and pushed Jungkook back a little, feeling for the bottom of the condom and pushing him out of you. Jungkook whined, but Yoongi pulled you away from him.
“It’s too much,” Yoongi mumbled. “How long have you been holding out? Fuck…”
He pulled the condom off him and it was still dribbling out. Yoongi grabbed your hand and wrapped it around Jungkook’s cock, holding you in place with his. You were too tired to focus, too exhausted to realize what was going on.
Yoongi began to pump Jungkook with your hand, slowly. He was still so hard, veins imprinting into your palm, cum dripping all over your and Yoongi’s fingers. Jungkook whined, wincing at the sensitivity, but Yoongi was careful, sliding your palm up to the head and squeezing it firmly but not too tightly. Slowly, slowly, bringing Jungkook back down.
“Party’s dying,” Yoongi breathed. “We gotta get out of here.”
You were naked. Jungkook was naked. Your lower back was killing you. Yoongi’s blood alcohol level was far too high to drive even if he sounded sober. You sucked in a breath and shoved your face into the unknown sheets, groaning.
“Give me a minute, fuck.”
Shit, you just wanted to sleep.
third act. was it a dream a–dick–ted au
548 notes · View notes
1kook · 3 months ago
viki & hickeys
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the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)
SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.  WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide  RATING m (18+) WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG
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NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif  of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks
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Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all. 
There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms. 
Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization. 
“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”
Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”
The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him? 
You’re not so sure. 
It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows. 
Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed. 
“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”
You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”
She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”
At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did. 
You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean. 
“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?” 
Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that. 
Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin. 
Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you. 
So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes. 
And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”
You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise. 
Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well. 
To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows. 
Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments. 
On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary. 
(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)
“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight. 
Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise. 
“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”
You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s. 
There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face. 
Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.  
“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth. 
He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self. 
But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first. 
Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”
You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”
His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups. 
“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.” 
Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features. 
Oh, you loved this man. 
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Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane. 
He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway. 
It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. 
But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself? 
One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on. 
It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.” 
“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car. 
As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant. 
It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you. 
“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass. 
The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass. 
Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit. 
As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks. 
A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe. 
Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear. 
Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”
You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs. 
“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck. 
That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush. 
Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.
You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river. 
If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river. 
“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”
He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”
You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!” 
Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is. 
“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.” 
He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.” 
“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song. 
He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off. 
Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign. 
“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device. 
It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen. 
“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“
“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line. 
“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?” 
Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?” 
You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.” 
Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred? 
He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend? 
Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate. 
Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell. 
You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird! 
Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at. 
“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?” 
A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words. 
You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”
Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?” 
Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.” 
It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut. 
He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead. 
The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again. 
“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account. 
But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”
A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”
It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“
He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”
You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?” 
Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”
You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now. 
You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook. 
Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much. 
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“ 
He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.” 
Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”
“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.” 
Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms. 
“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”
The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing. 
There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes. 
You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.” 
Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”
You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”
“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”
The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”
Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat. 
On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment. 
Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”
You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze. 
Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river. 
“I thought he was cool before.” 
He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you. 
In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth. 
You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor. 
Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?” 
You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?” 
He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”
“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own. 
Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.” 
You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“
“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.” 
His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling. 
It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen. 
Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud. 
He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief. 
Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship. 
(It makes your heart ache at the realization.) 
Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man. 
(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot. 
You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”
The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim. 
But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either. 
“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.” 
“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”) 
Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes. 
The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.” 
He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement. 
“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”
He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.” 
Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes. 
It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself. 
Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone. 
He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura. 
Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this. 
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“
“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.” 
He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end. 
“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”
Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.” 
You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly. 
Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is. 
“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”
Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead. 
“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them. 
Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”
“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.” 
At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.” 
You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr. 
Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet. 
Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again. 
He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”
Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—
Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue. 
You whimper. “That hurt.” 
“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”
Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey. 
Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see. 
Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck. 
Of course. 
You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss. 
It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it. 
And you’re all too ready to act on it. 
Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy. 
But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw. 
“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare. 
Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him. 
The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds. 
As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair. 
Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips. 
With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit. 
Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders. 
“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you. 
He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull. 
“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around. 
“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you. 
He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up. 
The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view. 
It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings. 
“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you. 
Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely. 
His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise. 
Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.
He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.
Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.
He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth. 
The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness. 
Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest. 
Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor. 
He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”
The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes. 
Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air. 
For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead. 
He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”
You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions. 
“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”
A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”
The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—
Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been. 
He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table. 
Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”
You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt. 
Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”
It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again. 
His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs. 
Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”
And it’s true. 
You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low. 
You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.
Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”
Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you. 
Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“
Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.
You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you. 
He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix. 
“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”
“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin. 
It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction. 
Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper. 
“I kinda do—“
“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.
His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust. 
“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”
You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly. 
“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips. 
“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface. 
Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed. 
“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy. 
You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.
Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.
You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why. 
It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home. 
Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you. 
You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad. 
Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying. 
“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses. 
“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.
And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”
Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.
What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.
“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes. 
(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)
Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside. 
With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds. 
“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly. 
“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?” 
You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”
Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder. 
Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you. 
“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit. 
“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you. 
You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different. 
“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”
The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap. 
Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out. 
“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”
Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation. 
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath. 
“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds. 
The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”
You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question. 
Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.
“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.” 
He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly. 
“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”
You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.
That loud and airy one he reserves only for you. 
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Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic. 
He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom. 
Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet. 
“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums. 
“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“
“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?” 
“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”
The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?” 
There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you. 
All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”
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The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house. 
You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise. 
“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors. 
“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.” 
And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag. 
“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”
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Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
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jtrbluv · 4 months ago
resolutely, yours. | kth
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summary: When your best-friend slash pain-in-your-ass, Kim Seokjin, drags you to a New Year’s Eve party that you didn’t want to go to in the first place, what better way is there to pass the time than to stay sober and watch all your classmates go berserk? Well, that is until Kim Taehyung steps into the picture, of course.
pairing: taehyung x reader
genre: fluff
word count: 2.7k+
warnings: profanity, slight alcohol consumption, implied drug usage (two words only, i swear), college party antics should say enough
A/N: first fic of the year! W O O! this was supposed to be for tae’s birthday but i guess it’s fitting since it is the new year. a special thanks to miss mei @sugacouture for her likeness and @koushiningg aka the eternal hypewoman. this fic (drabble) is rly short but i do have a lot coming up in store! for now, hope u enjoy and happy new year everyone!
You are going to murder Kim Seokjin.
The spiked punch that fills your red solo cup up to its brim has been waiting to be quaffed down for thirty-seven minutes now. Roughly five minutes before that, Seokjin had somehow managed to drag you through the front doors of the fraternity party he’s been wanting you to accompany him to for weeks now.
And it only takes ten minutes for the proclaimed party animal and people-person, Kim Seokjin, to vanish from your side. He leaves you to fend for yourself in a jungle full of plastered college students—priorities at the moment are to either drink so much liquid regret that they can’t even remember their own names, or to find someone to make out with when the clock strikes at midnight. From simple observation, you notice that most, if not everyone here, fall under both categories.
Well, the exception being you, of course.
One thing to note is that you actually do have a decent tolerance for alcohol. You were no stranger to it, and it would serve as a dutiful companion to you when times called for it. Like last week after your last final that you knew you fucking bombed.
However, the humidity of the room due to the accumulation of bodies that left little to no room for fresh air, in addition to the strong stench of alcohol mixed with sweat mixed with God knows what, just was not the ideal place for you to get wasted. It didn’t stand close in comparison to drinking with a solid group of close friends, or by yourself in the comfort of your bed while a shitty rom-com plays in the background on your laptop.
The atmosphere is suffocating all of your senses— tears pricking at the corners of your eyes due to the strong odor of the room, the curled front pieces of your hair dampening and sticking to your temples, your mouth and throat dry as the Sahara Desert because, of fucking course, there is absolutely no water to be seen.
The small black dress and heels that Seokjin forced you to wear was worsening the situation greatly—your legs practically glued stuck to the stool you were sitting on, leading to ugly red marks and stinging skin if you tried to stand up.
You could not take being inside any longer. Instead of passing out from being piss drunk, you were almost adamant that you were going to pass out from the grueling mix of heat exhaustion and secondhand high.
Your grip on the solo cup significantly tightens, nearly crushing the plastic in half. You quickly stand up from the stool you were sitting in, the sensation akin to getting your legs waxed as you take a deep inhale through your nose, mentally preparing yourself to dive into this sea of financially obligated, depressed monsters.
Peculiarly, you manage to shove your way through a good chunk of the mass, your eyes set on the door that leads towards the balcony. Your ankles almost completely give into your weight a concerning number of times, and if it wasn’t for all of the arms of oblivious partygoers that you had clung onto for dear life, you probably wouldn’t be able to stand on your own two feet by now.
Solely occupied with trying to navigate your way through the crowd, you don’t even realize that someone bumped into you and spilled your drink all over your dress until you reach the balcony. The cold, night breeze passes over your body, leaving chills on the huge wet patch on your dress. The one goddamn time your dress sees the light of day, you just so happen to find a way to ruin it.
“Fucking hell!” You holler into the vacant balcony, your hands coming up to carefully poke at the wet patch on your dress. You wince as the soaked, freezing fabric comes in contact with your bare stomach. Angry, you chug down the rest of the drink inside your cup and chuck it off the balcony, too enraged to even react to its strong taste.
Shivering, you walk deeper onto the balcony, cradling yourself and staring at your shoes, a string of curses spewing from your lips. You scold yourself for not bringing a jacket while simultaneously plotting your revenge against Seokjin. A pair of black loafers intrude your vision, accompanied by a husky voice that calls out to you,
“Oh shit, are you okay?”
Your head shoots up, your eyes meeting the ones of the man standing in front of you. He towers above you significantly despite you wearing heels. His eyes are only a tad obscured by the soft, brown curls of his hair, perfectly styled and gelled to have that ‘purposefully messy’ look. The only difference being that models stood no chance against him when he was the blueprint himself. The black button up he’s clad in exquisitely accentuates every crevice of his lean, chiseled body. And his eyes that were already alluring on their own, were adorn with hazel-colored contacts that you swear you could stare at for hours upon hours. He is so otherworldly beautiful, you temporarily forget to breathe.
And you also forget that you are just staring at him, and he is staring back at you with a smile.
Times like this is when you wish you were at least a little buzzed. Sober ‘you’ is way too socially inept to fend for themself sadly. “O-oh i’m fine, someone just spilled their drink on me.”
Maybe it’s the way the moon sits behind him and casts a halo-like glow around his figure or how he’s just been staring straight into your eyes this whole time, like it’s second nature whilst you can only hold eye contact with him for two seconds before instinctively shying away. To say that his presence frightened you was an understatement. You were about to take cover and hide under the patio table like a five-year-old if he kept looking at you like that.
He blinks, his mouth stretching into a wide grin, rectangular-shaped and having the ability to ease your nerves. He places his drink on a patio table, dusting his hands on his pants, “Here, I’ll get you some napkins, just stay here.”
Stunned, it isn’t until he leaves that you yell out to him as he steps back inside the chaos, “Thank you!”
You carefully sit down on a patio chair, your arms still wrapped around your shivering torso while you try to breathe warm air into your cupped hands.
The man steps out onto the balcony minutes later, his fists full of paper towels as he hands them to you. “Here you go.”
You graciously take them, blotting your dress with the paper towels, your nose scrunching at the scent of alcohol that you had no choice but to inhale. “Thank you so much, really.” You say— still very much shocked to know that chivalry isn't quite dead yet. “It’s Taehyung, right?”
He nods, “Yeah, and you’re Y/N?
Your pause, your hand hovering over your dress as you look up and nod with a forced smile, “No but really, thank you. You didn’t have to.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’m sorry that it happened in the first place,” he says apologetically, as if it was his fault, “it seems like everyone’s already out of their minds, and it isn’t even midnight yet.”
“Hey, don’t apologize,” you assure him, which seems to work because his eyes soften a bit, “besides, I guess it’s my fault for coming here in the first place. I knew something like this was gonna happen and now here I am, smelling like cheap, convenience store vodka.”
He chuckles, and you swear you’ve never been so elated to make someone laugh until now, “I somehow managed to beat the crowd. I’ve literally just been standing out here by myself for a good hour now.”
You sigh in envy, “Must be nice.”
“Too bad you couldn’t make it, it’s been awfully quiet up here.” He says, pivoting on his heel to look at the rest of the empty balcony.
Your eyes trail to the commotion inside the house, the crowd still going strong, “Are we really the only sober ones here?”
He shakes his head, “Nah, we’re just the only ones stupid enough to show up at a college party on New Year’s Eve, expecting to have a good time sober while everyone’s getting plastered.”
The unexpected truth pill causes you to enter a fit of laughter, small clouds of air leaving your mouth every time you exhale. He laughs along with you. “Yeah we are pretty stupid, I do admit.” You concur, while rubbing at your arms that were covered in goosebumps.
“Do you want my jacket?” He asks you while pointing to the black blazer that’s slung on top of the chair next to you.
You wrinkle your nose, “Are you sure?”
“Yes, before I put it on you myself,” he giggles with a roll of his eyes.
Shaking your head, you grab the blazer and wrap it around your shoulders. You stand up from your seat and turn towards him, brow quirked. “A-are you not cold? It’s fucking freezing out here.”
“I’m fine, I swear,” he counters, reaching out to help you slip your arms into his huge jacket sleeves, “I’m also not wearing a sleeveless dress.” He teases, eyeing you up and down as he takes in how oversized his jacket is on you. He thinks it looks much better when you’re wearing it, but he won’t tell you that.
“Right…” you drag out, following his footsteps as he motions you to follow him towards the edge of the balcony.
You two stand next to each other, leaning against the edge, arms nearly brushing against one another.
“So Taehyung, what brings you here in the first place?” You ask, knowing that he seems just as displeased to be here as much as you are.
“I got dragged here by a friend, Park Jimin, in particular.” He responds with a frown, “I have no idea where the fuck he is now, he literally left me as soon as we got here.”
Turning towards him incredulously, your brows raise and the corner of your lip curls into a smirk, “You don’t say.”
Confused, but also curious about the expression painted across your face, he quirks a brow, “Hm?”
You close your mouth, crossing your arms tighter around yourself, “I got dragged here by a friend too. Kim Seokjin. That asshole left me as soon as we got here too.”
He steps back, scoffing in disbelief, “Wow, we really just got stood up by our own friends.” Taehyung proclaims into the vacant balcony, for both him and you— the thought of it sounding even more pathetic after being said out loud.
“They’re pretty goddamn close to losing that title now.” You quip, shaking your head in dismay.
His head rocks back, a lively laugh leaving his lips due to your comment which makes you smile at the fact that you are even able to make him laugh like this.
“Damn it Y/N, you should’ve came out sooner, we could’ve been having a good time out here.” He tells you with a pout as his laughter starts to dwindle.
Sighing heavily, you too, feel regretful about the missed opportunity, “I really should have.”
He nudges you with his elbow, “At least you’re here now.”
The bass-boosted music from inside the house ceases, the room becoming momentarily quieter while someone bellows out, “Hey look, it’s the countdown!”
Everyone’s focus shifts towards the gigantic flat screen TV that hung above the fireplace, making you realize where the fraternity funds truly go to. You and Taehyung exchange glances before shrugging and moving closer to all the commotion since it was New Year’s Eve, above all.
He leans against the doorframe and you stay close to his side, the number ten flashing brightly on the screen—the crowd’s shouts getting louder as it reaches the final ten seconds of the year.
Instead of shouting out the numbers with the rest of the mass, you and Taehyung are simply witnessing it all fold out in silence.
‘You got any New Year’s resolutions?!” You nudge him while attempting to yell over the noise.
His head whips towards you, “Me?!”
Your brows furrow, “Does it look like I’m talking to anyone else?!”
His mouth splits into a grin once more, folding over in laughter just enough to meet eye-to-eye with you.
“I mean! I didn’t have one originally!”
The crease in your brows dissipate, “Well, what changed?!”
His head tilts to the side, “I came here!”
You mirror his head tilt, confused as ever, “Um, so you wanna go to more parties next year?!”
He slaps a palm against his forehead, “From what you know about me, does it look like I like parties?!”
“How the hell would I know?!”
His jaw drops, “Y/N—!”
“—I wanna get to know you better Y/N!”
Your jaw drops as well, “What?! Me?!”
“Is there any other Y/N standing in front of me?!”
“I– oh...”
“ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The crowd shouts together in unison despite all being under the influence. A confetti cannon erupts, flying around the room and falling into people’s hair as the mass starts to split into pairs, all partaking in the traditional New Year’s kiss that you personally haven’t had much luck in participating in yourself.
You rip your gaze away to look at Taehyung. He smiles, pulling a piece of confetti out of hair, making your cheeks flush. “Happy New Year, Y/N.”
“Happy New Year, Taehyung.”
The small amount of alcohol you consumed when you first stepped foot onto the balcony leaves you slightly buzzed. Just enough to leave you with the right amount of courage to vouch for the nickname.
You take a daring step towards the man in front of you, “I also have a resolution of my own, Taehyung.”
He takes an even more daring step towards you, having the audacity to lean down— your faces only inches apart. “And what is that, may I ask?”
Grabbing onto the collar of his shirt, you close the gap in between the two of you, locking your lips with his. The kiss isn’t short enough to be a peck but isn’t long enough to be considered making out. You pull away enough to be able to see his face, “Is to get to know you better too.”
He chuckles, “Y/N, your lips taste like spiked punch.”
Pouting, you bump your forehead into his, “All I drank was whatever you saw me have at the balcony, I swear.”
He pecks your nose, your frown immediately wiping away as he does so, “I trust you.”
You smile, giving him a peck on the mouth, “As you should.”
“I’d kiss you again, but you probably can’t stand being here any longer. Let’s get out of here.” He tells you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
You slide your arm onto his, interlocking his fingers with your own, “I think you’ve already completed your resolution Taehyung. You seem to know me so well already.”
Pushing through the crowd, he hooks an arm onto your waist while he shoves a path for you two to get through, “Too bad I don’t know where you wanna go though.”
You hum, thinking for a moment before your grumbling stomach answers for you, “I’m hungry, let’s go grab burgers or something.”
You don’t see the way Taehyung is fondly staring at you because you’re too busy trying to open the front door. At last, you manage to pry it open, stepping back outside while Taehyung’s holding you in his arms. It’s not that cold this time.
Taehyung’s hands land on both of your shoulders— turning you around to face him as he swiftly latches his lips onto yours. You stumble back, but his hand is quick to support you as he kisses you deeply. You kiss him back, letting your fingers curl around the curls of his hair.
He pulls back this time, letting his forehead rest on yours, “Y/N, I think you are the one that’s completed your resolution. How the hell did you know that I fucking love burgers?”
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ao3feed-yoonkook · 4 months ago
read it on the AO3 at
by itscoolbabe
There are people who live their entire lives without even thinking about greater beings, knowing that they exist and that's how they die, only to be met with them below the sea, in hoards and hungry.
Jeongguk was one of these creatures and he served, owned, and hungered over one man. Min Yoongi
  His master.
  Every bit of dreaded power that he was, it all belonged to Yoongi. A demon on a leash.
A loyal servant and his little prince.
Words: 9715, Chapters: 1/2, Language: English
Series: Part 2 of Sweet if Not a Little Odd
Fandoms: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Categories: M/M
Characters: Min Yoongi | Suga, Jeon Jungkook, Kim Seokjin | Jin, Kim Namjoon | RM, Kim Taehyung | V, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Park Jimin (BTS), Mark Tuan, Original Characters
Relationships: Jeon Jungkook/Min Yoongi | Suga, Kim Taehyung | V/Park Jimin (Implied)
Additional Tags: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Demons, Contracts, like the demonic kind, Demon Jeon Jungkook, Killer Min Yoongi | Suga, Serial Killer Min Yoongi | Suga, Blood and Gore, Gore, Blood, Blood and Violence, Murder, Killing, Sadistic Min Yoongi | Suga, like honestly borderline dissociative yoongi, its straight up stress killing at this point, Alternate Universe - Actors, lmaooooo, Photographer Min Yoongi | Suga, Unhealthy Relationships, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Anal Sex, Rough Sex, Rough Kissing, Blood Kink, Anal Fingering, Claiming Bites, Biting, Top Jeon Jungkook, Bottom Min Yoongi | Suga, I ALMOST FORGOT YALL, OOOOOOOOOH BOY, but on a way more somber note, im so sorry namjoon, the only good thing about this is like. nothing, maybe the sex, Maybe - Freeform, yoongi is five foot nine and WILL stab u. i wish i was joking ru, Alley Sex, Public Sex
read it on the AO3 at
0 notes
ljinki · 4 months ago
tagged by @joenkook ty cora!! <3
rules: answer 20 questions and tag 20 people you are contractually obligated to know better 💗
tagging: @dis-easemp3 @magicjin @userjiminie @jintae @knjz @crazierkookie + whoever wants to do this! so, technically we are, like, up to 20+
name/nickname: kaz / kazjoon
gender: male
star sign: gemini
height: 155 / 5′1 because we be short kings here (i see u yoongi)
time: 16:25
birthday: june 3rd
favorite bands: bts, shinee, paramore, arctic monkeys, the killers. 
favorite solo artists: halsey.
song stuck in my head: dna by bts usually lmao
last movie: uh, i think high school musical 3 for that free serotonin
last show: in the soop
when i created my blog: in 2012, but i had to redo it in 2017
last thing i googled: tube map for writing.
other blogs: none!
do i get asks: usually no! but feel free <3
why i chose my url: epiphany is a masterpiece and i would jump into moving traffic for kim seokjin, and hoseok world domination is my main agenda.
following: 129
followers: 621 
average hours of sleep: 4h
lucky numbers: 7 (always has been btw so i am just .... lucky)
instruments: vocals! i’m a singer
what i'm wearing: ripped skinny jeans, long white tee and an oversized red flannel
dream job: musical theater actor
dream trip: back to nyc to see my friends
favorite food: vegan sushi!
nationality: german
favorite songs: run by bts, caught myself by paramore, a dustland fairy by the killers.
top three fictional universes i'd like to live in: hyyh (ngl .... it’s a vibe), a noah in d.gray-man, the legend of zelda.  
5 notes · View notes
chimswae · 4 months ago
BTS Caretaker CH29
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Summary: She may think she has Bangtan Sonyeondan wrapped around her fingers. She may think it is easy to love the members equally without hurting any soul. She may think the boys wont fall head over heels for her. She assumes it is okay to show a little love and affection towards the boys, what if she gets it all wrong? What if it only brings more complication to her already complicated life? Can she survive their charms? Will she be able to resist them? What if they just wont let her go?
- Pairing: BTS x Oc ( Yoongi x OC, Jungkook x OC)
- Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Romance, Idol!au
- Word Count: 4,753
- Author Note: Mild smut ahead (more to heated makeout session though hahaha) so, you have been warned on my cliche smut writing, i really dont know how to write a proper smut.So sorry for that, u can skip that part :)
Previous | Next
Chapter 29
“Coming!” hurriedly, Hoseok ran to the front door and he’s welcomed by the stack of boxes in someone’s arm. And that someone’s arm happened to be Seul. He pressed his lips together while taking the view in front of him with questionable gaze “wow, someone is planning to move in today?” Seul leaned her body against the wall to stabilize herself.
“Jung Hoseok you better make way for me if you don’t have any intention to help!” her faint hollered was muffled behind the stack of boxes.
Hoseok snapped out of his daze and quickly apologized before lending his hand to help the small girl. “What are these Seul? Why are you carrying all of these by yourself?”
“Present from Armys. I claimed it from the management office” he lifted the first box from the pile, groaning at its weight as he carried it inside. Not even half of the burden were lifted off from her and it really annoyed Seul to the core.
“Unbelievable! Are you really going to take one box from…ugh.. Goodness, you are impossible Hobi!” she nagged. Seul struggled out of her converse and entered the place carefully. When she thought she’d been careful enough, her knees buckled due to the extreme loads which did not match her size.
Seul blamed Hoseok for leaving her with the remaining boxes and chose to pick only one from the piles. Ungrateful Sunshine! She mentally groaned in dissatisfaction. Easing the boxes down on the ground carefully, Seul made sure her lower body could withstand the weight for few more minutes.
Her movements grew sloppy and uncoordinated “Ouff…” without warning, she screeched loudly garnering everyone’s attention. Seul stumbled forward and crashed on top of pile of boxes. To make it sounded humiliating, her face was buried inside one of the boxes and she had to literally hold her breath from sniffing the goodie bags inside.
“Seul?” “Seul what happen!” “Seul-seul are you okay?!” heavy footsteps could be heard from every corner. It seemed like everyone was in rush to the crime scene. A hand reached out to her arms, pulling her from inside the box and examining her body to find scratches on her skin.
Jin patted her cheeks, looking frantic “Did you get hurt anywhere?” finding herself breathless due to the small accident, she finally expelled a soft sigh along with small chuckle.
“Sorry. I am okay, I didn’t mean to worry-Yah Kim Seokjin” she was pulled into Jin’s warm embrace baffling everyone in the room. The members were snickering sarcastically, judging dramatic Jin throwing shades on him.
She palmed his chest, pushing the latter away from her body to create some space for both of them to breathe. “Aren’t you being a little too dramatic?” Jin shot her a disapproval look and trailed her gaze to the rest of the members who had their usual bitch-hands-off-her look across their face.
He knocked the top of her head with his knuckle “ Yah Kim Seokjin? Where is your Jin Oppa? Aren’t you being too informal? ” her nose scrunched up in disgust and turned to others seeking for morale support. Namjoon opened his arm welcoming Seul in his embrace. He grinned widely until the dimple appeared. She rushed to his arms, as Namjoon enfolded his long arms around her earning low protest from the floor.
“Since when you are so touchy with Seul?” said the maknae bitterly.
Jimin shook his head frantically “I cant.. handle more competition. Don’t fall for hyunggie Seul-ah!” he snorted with his whiny voice. She refused to entertain the whiny baby and sealed her mouth until then. The more she showed her response, the longer she had to watch these boys irrelevant mouth fight.
Namjoon paid no attention to others and rubbed her arms urging Seul to come with him to his room “Where are you bringing her?!” Jin shouted from the living room watching their body slowly disappeared from his vicinity. Yoongi rolled his eyes, escaping the commotion to his room.
Seul spent two hours in Namjoon’s room watching English shows though she barely survived throughout the shows, Namjoon was kind and patient enough to translate some difficult terms for her. Hoseok and Jimin would come to check on them every five minutes until the couple had enough and decided to lock the door.
The first 10 minutes, Jin pounded on the door like a mad man demanding the leader to return Seul back to them or else they would call help to open the door. The guys seemed to have so much time in hand today that they chose to pick on Namjoon and Seul instead of minding their own business.
After wasting his energy in persuading Namjoon and Seul unlocking the door, Kim Seokjin gave up and finally they could find some peace.
Nibbling on her chips halfway, she dropped the remaining on her lap as she pointed at the screen with a soft gasp “ Is it even ethical to kill someone and get away from it?!” Namjoon chuckled softly and hummed a soft yes.
“This is so fucked up!” Seul threw her arms in the air and rubbed her pounding head. He flicked his eyes up and down before his left brows shot up in either surprise or disapproval of  Seul’s choice of words “Language. You have been spending too much time with Yoongi hyung” flicking her forehead lightly, the girl pouted in protest.
Namjoon’s forehead creased into a frown “ It is called ‘How To Get Away With Murder’ for this reason duh. The title itself already give away the idea of the story. You are being a drama queen” she curled up beside him and brought her attention back to the television screen.
“I know, but it doesn’t make any sense. If I were Wisse Gribbins, I would tell the police and leave his friends to deal with their own problem”
“It is Wes Gibbins. You sounded so Korean” he corrected and let out an amused laugh. She smacked his forehead softly, scowling in disapproval “The last time I checked, I am Korean, Rap Monster-ssi” he cringed at the way how she called him by his stage name. It was his first time to hear it from Seul and for some reason it created a huge gap in between those words. Unfriendly, yes that was it.
“That sounds even horrible. Just stick with Namjoon. Rap Monster-ssi doesn’t fit you” he glared down at her and ran his fingers in her hair out of habit.
“But, I meant to ask something… Just your view, tell me honestly alright? I have been thinking to change my stage name” he bit his lower lips as if in deep thought.
The corner of her lips pursed up as she nodded “To what? Joonie? O-ri?” he scoffed.
“Joonie is too cute! Stop bringing up O-ri, I am so over my Hiphop Monster figurine which resembles a duck, ugh now I have to live with that”
Seul tilted her head, thinking deeply before responding “ Jji-Mon! (RipMon)” clasping her hand together, her eyes twinkled in happiness as if she just won the big prize of the night.
Namjoon stared at her blankly trying to brain Seul’s words. He regained back his ability to talk not long after.
“What in the world? How did you know about that! It was long time ago, and I thought you weren’t a fan Seul. Or are you secretly my fan since start but you got to hide it because you are too shy to admit it?” he drew his own conclusion annoyed the hell out of her.
Sneering sarcastically, she poked his forehead returning Namjoon to his original position as he had moved a little too close to her “I saw the concept trailer, whereby you and Jimin had to rip off your shirt. You really are a true god of destruction; how could you rip it off at once when Jimin’s shirt was looking fine after the deed, unlike you. Tsk, Rap Monster-ssi” she teased.
“That was wardrobe malfunction. Stop using that against me. I won’t ask your opinion for my stage name anymore, you are a true Army, what do I expect? You will make me use those funny nicknames”
“Hey! I am not your Army. And those nicknames aren’t that bad. I found it is entertaining” he chuckled lightly.
“Alright you are not my Army. However, you are our girl. So, let’s get back to our main topic, shall we? About my stage name. I am thinking of making it official. Instead of using Rap Monster, I want to use RM. What do you think about it?”
Seul beamed “RM sounds professional and cool!”
“And, Rap Monster sounded unprofessional?” he scratched his head.
“I didn’t say that. Rap Monster is good but now that you are moving forward and become bigger, I think RM suits you better though I prefer Namjoon over anything, no offence. But, Rap Monster sounds too teenager-ish to me. I like RM. I am sure Armys will love it too” she patted his head with light giggle.
He chortled “Teenager-ish. That makes sense. I am no longer the Rap Monster who wrote childish lyrics, I wish to be better and thorough in producing music. Do you think Armys will be okay with RM?” he expressed his concern. In all honesty, Namjoon did not want to screw things up especially when it involved Armys. Every decision that he’s about to make, he would put Armys in his thought.
“Joon, your fans will love it. Remember they love you just as much as you love them. Trust them. You are worrying too much. Shall we just use Jji-Mon instead?”
“Absolutely no. You are not in charge in this” he pinched her nose, frowning at her small tease.
They jumped in surprised as a loud banging at the door drew their attention momentarily “Kim Namjoon! Ji Seul! Open the goddamn door now or I swear to god I will break it down in 10 seconds!”. Kim Seokjin was screaming at the top of his lungs threatening them once again.
Springing up, she smoothed back her tousled hair and rose from her feet “I will tame the whiny lioness, stop worrying over the stage name. Let Armys know how you feel, it will make you feel better”
“Thank you Seul..I will think about it” a slow smile worked its way across his face. Namjoon knew exactly what he felt right now. And, he made up his mind about the stage name.
“Kim to the Namjoon! Return Seul safely now!” he pounded loudly.
“Ugh Jin is so annoying. Give it a thought alright?” she winked as she hurriedly went to open the door “Coming! You can stop pounding the door now Jinnie!” Seul hollered in response to Jin’s wrath.
The next day Seul arrived at the boys’ place to work a little later as she had to accompany Mrs Hwang for routine check-up. She went straight to tend her job as soon as she sent her mother back safely. Upon her arrival, the place was empty. They must be out somewhere or most probably at the company practicing for their next tour. In few days they will be leaving Korea and this time it’d be Wings Tour Japan Edition.
In the middle of preparation for their tour, the boys had started going in and out from the studio for their upcoming comeback which was expected to be in September. The second half of 2017 had already drained fifty percent of their energy. Hence, the thought of surviving the rest of the year until their comeback was torturing them.
Seul walked along the hallway, picking up dirty laundry in process while humming to some random songs. She stopped halfway in front of Yoongi’s private study room or more like his mini studio. He had one at the company as well as in their dorm. Yoongi would use either one of his genius lab depending on his mood. However, most of important and private stuffs would be secured in his main genius lab. The one that he had at home was a casual thing, he didn’t really put passwords to the door.
There was a small voice coming from the room, and out of curiosity she pushed the door slowly scanning the room in hope to find familiar faces like Min PD. Smiling to herself, she was over the moon to see Yoongi in his seat engrossed in his work. He didn’t even notice her presence there.
She took the chance to enter the room stealthily just to scare him a little. Chewing on her lower lips, she stifled her giggle settling the dirty laundry outside. Seul crept into Suga’s Genius Lab, shutting the door behind her silently. She stood behind him waiting to jump out or to creep up, startling him.
Seul chose the second options to appear more daring. It was Suga not Jungkook. This guy deserved a little scare just to tame him. To put it off this way made it sounded so wrong. She shook her head to get rid of the weird thought and getting ready to execute her so called guerrilla attack.
Before she could make a move, Yoongi swivelled his chair around facing the girl. Seul gawked in bafflement, giving Yoongi upper hand to pull her into his lap. “Got you” his low voice sounded awfully deep today, and it almost made Seul losing her shits.
“What are yo-“ she struggled to stand up but Yoongi tightened the grip around her torso, running his thumb in circular motion along her waist line.
“I miss you” he murmured.
She softened in his hold. “I miss you too” she encircled her arm around his neck. Seul looked startle by her own action but drawn as he inched close to her face. It was only a matter of time before their lips reunited again. Yoongi brushed his lips against her, holding her cheek in his hand drawing her closer.
He kissed her gently, cradling the back of her head, relishing the feel of her soft hair and delicate bones. Their lips moved in the same rhythm, ravishing each other lips. She stroked his chest, allowing the latter to push his tongue inside dominating this battle.
To be frank, she never expected kissing Min Yoongi would be this hot and it triggered her desire to feel more of it. He roamed his hand around her body, feeling every inch of her covered skin adding the fuel in their already heated moment. Aching for more, they pulled away from the kisses panting for clean air and before she could regain her normal breathing completely, Seul let out a small moan in his earlobe.
She clung to him, emitting a low groan as he sucked on the tender area at the base of her neck. Her voice encouraged him to explore her body further. Yoongi’s temperature rose and he went to kiss her again with so much passion. This time Seul responded to the kisses as passionate as his.
Carefully, he ran his hand to her buttocks switching her position. She straddled him on the seat, her knees on either side of his legs, wrapping herself deliciously close to his body. His fingers fiddle with the button of her blouse, when she made no move to stop him, he took the chance to unbutton them halfway down enough to reveal her chest.
Yoongi breathed softly against her lips and nuzzled her face. Their gaze met as they communicated silently with a single stare that they exchanged. Chewing her lower lips, Yoongi kissed her briefly before running his lips along her jaws. He slipped her hand under her blouse, feeling her tender skin against his hand.
Seul’s body went rigid with surprised as trembled shook her body. The euphoric warmth blossomed within her once more when she felt his hand caressing her chest inching close beneath her cleavage. His lips returned to ravage her neck knowing what it did to her. She arched towards him, holding back the moan in her throat. He nipped at her neck slowly getting harder and more insistent as time passed.
Her hand clutched onto his shoulder for support, as her free hand ran freely in his brown lock. Yoongi’s action rendered her breathless. She unconsciously moved a little creating small friction against the dangerous zone. It was supposed to be untouchable, yet as soon as she heard Yoongi deep groan. She knew she had done something inappropriate to it.
“Darn it Seul” he nibbled on her earlobe as he picked up the confuse girl, making his way to the couch behind them. He laid her down and found himself on top of her. Yoongi was not rushing into doing anything intimate with her, in fact he had been monitoring her response. If she didn’t push him away, meaning he got her permission. Up to this stage, Seul showed no sign of protest.
She slid her hands under his shirt, signalling him to take it off. His breath hitched at the sight of eager Seul beneath him making Yoongi wanted to take her right way. She took a moment to stare at his body without blinking. Seul pictured the image of shirtless Yoongi in her head, admiring his fine body that matched the perfectly milky skin. Yoongi looked effortlessly beautiful without his shirt on.
“You seem impressed baby girl” said Yoongi teasingly.
Her cheeks reddened realizing that she’d been taken a long time to admire the fine man on top of her. However, when Yoongi lips captured her once again in another long and endearing kiss, it washed off all the shyness in her.
She closed her eyes and felt the passion swelling in her. He broke the kisses and looked into her eyes “Baby, tell me when to stop” she was moved by his soft side. Despite in this situation Yoongi put her feelings above his raging hormone.
Nodding with a smile, Seul pulled his neck down and made the first move. She kissed him on the lips, using a little tongue before trailing the kisses to his neck. She knew what was she doing causing the older guy to emit a long moan while his hand gripping her hip.
Chills bumps across her body as Yoongi pressed against her, as he pinned one of her hands abover her head. He interlaced their hand together and he kissed his way down to her chest.  Reaching her back, he unclasped the fabric that had been hiding the beauties in front of him. Seeing Yoongi’s lustful stare, she blushed madly and threw one of her arms to cover the twins from his prying eyes.
Their eyes locked, as he removed her hand uncovering the two beauties. He breathed sharply and mumbled “You are beautiful baby girl. Too beautiful” she anticipated what he’s about to next. She chewed her lips nervously but soon the feeling was taken over by one of the greatest pleasure in her whole life. One at a time, he just kept on and on kissing and sucking on them turning Seul into a moaning mess.
Arching her back, she pushed her chest forward letting him to have them, giving into the pleasure that he gave her willingly. While he’s working on pleasuring her, he unbuttoned the remaining button of her blouse and slipped it off her.
Yoongi held both sides of her abdomen as he moved down, pushing her legs apart. Watching her hesitation, he took the cue to trail his kiss back to her stomach, kissing it all over. He was so gentle with her, every kiss that he showered were made of love.
“Yoongs…where is everyone” she bit her tongue from expelling another loud moan.
Stroking her hips deeply, Yoongi kissed her inner thigh playfully and mumbled against her skin “Out. They won’t be back until tonight” kissing and licking her, he teased her into a frenzy. Seul grabbed the sheets tight, grunting sexily which drove Yoongi mad.
The couple continue undressing each other skilfully.
Clothes scattered on the floor leaving her with only thin fabric covering her most fragile area and so did Yoongi. He glances at her once again seeking for permission. A faint blush crept up her cheeks, and that was enough to convince him that she’s alright with this level of intimacy.
She exhaled as if to steady her nerves when he finally freed her and continued to shower kisses there, earning a deep grunt from Seul. One of her hands was locking his hair, Yoongi worked his way in between with passion.
“Yoongi..” her breath hitched. Seul was reaching her peak and he knew it, just how he intended it to be. Still not stopping, he kept on with his skilful tongue. Her body tense up as she exhaled a deep breath feeling the ecstasy from his sinful tongue love making.
The sensation from his warm tongue drove her insane.
Only soft and erotic groans could be heard across the room. Just how much they longed for each other this way? They were drowned in a sea of lust and love.
Sitting in between Yoongi’s legs, he snuggled her closer to his body. “I want you to listen to this song. It is a demo for our new album” her eyes gleamed in excitement. “Is it alright to let me listen to it? I mean I am not a BTS member” she mumbled confusedly.
“No, it is alright. It is just a rough version of the song. We haven’t confirmed anything yet” Yoongi chuckled softly as he reached out the ipod on the glass table and adjusted the headphones over her ears.
“Ready? Tell me what do you think of it alright?” Seul nodded with a thumb up. His thumb glided over the screen, and the first strain of a smooth alternative hip hop with a light touch of jazz echoed through the headphones. She found herself enjoying the soft beat as her head tilted by its own to right and left in response.
There was not much lyric in it since they may need to come up with new changes now and then. However, she could catch small lines that they already included in the song. It was poetic and catchy.
All of my wonder You’re the answer I call you her, her Cause you’re my tear, tear
Yoong ran his thumb along the side of her waist anticipating Seul’s reaction. He had been working the songs with Namjoon and Hoseok, though the leader had already come up with the full lyrics of the outro, he still had to make sure the beat matched the lyric perfectly.
When the song ended, Seul removed the headphones and turned her head facing the handsome rapper. “That was beyond amazing Yoongi!” she grinned, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. He watched the girl cracking his gummy smile “Really? I wanted to submit this last touch to Joon, so he could record the rest of the lyrics” Seul tapped his small nose.
He scrunched his nose cutely “You did great! Can’t wait to hear the full version of the song. I can feel it in my bones that it is going to be my favourite songs from your new album” just by watching her giddiness boosted his confidence.
“Don’t decide that now. There are more cool songs in the album. Wait for it. It is going to be a new side of Bangtan Sonyeondan” he brought her to his arms again, resting his chin on the top of her head.
She nuzzled her face at the crook of his neck “I am with Bangtan till the end” he caressed her hair lovingly and placed a kiss on her head.
“Of course. You are our girl” he soothed her with a deep murmur.
Their girl. Namjoon said the same thing. Her feelings were a mixture of happiness and guilt. Sometimes she was scared of her future though she promised to live the present without worries.
She couldn’t simply wash off this insecurity in her, just because it was impossible to forget. Seul had to handle her present with confidence and face her future with no fear.
Just, never let your fear decide your future.
Yeah, she’s holding onto the principle.
“Someone trashed our practice room!”
“The culprit tried to break into Hoseok’s hyung studio, but they didn’t get through it. I bet they or he or she whatever were in rush. They left right after they broke into Joon hyung and Yoongi hyung studios” Jungkook explained to Seul with heavy pant. He was just so mad that his veins started to appear on his skin.
Seul felt angry to hear the news, the girl clenched her teeth together “Did they take anything from the studios?” Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose with a harsh grunt.
“My works were all gone. Those assholes! OUR HARDWORKS WERE ALL GONE! SCREW THIS” he yelled venting his frustration. Namjoon expelled a heavy sigh “They didn’t take anything from my studio, but the equipment was ruined. Ugh, I really want to kill the person who did this” his brow creased and he pressed his lips into a thin line.
“CCTV?” she inquired.
Shaking his head in defeat “Someone tampered with the surveillance camera. The footage was deleted. I had no idea how they entered the building” Seul frowned in disapproval.
“It was odd how they trashed Joon and Hoseok studios but wiped off Yoongi’s works. The furniture and equipment in his room are untouchable. There is no sign of robbery. Could they be after Yoongi?” the eldest of the group spoke up with a deep furrow.
She sent Yoongi a sympathy glance knowing all his hard works being erased overnight, that must be upsetting. Who would do such things to him? Yoongi might appear unfriendly but he would not hurt anyone. He could spit the nastiest remarks on others who provoked his anger, yet that only happened when you tick off the Min Yoongi.
“Did you make any enemy outside? Anyone that rings the bell?” Jimin shifted his gaze back and forth from Jin and Yoongi. Then he pursed his lips, feeling defeated.
Yoongi watched him, while he narrowed his eyes in a deep thought. To think of the possibility, Jin assumption could be right. However, he couldn’t think of any names that could possibly do this to him. After he became a trainee and debuted as BTS member, he rarely got the chance to meet someone new and make new friends.  
He dedicated his life for his work and Bangtan, not that he remembers making any enemy outside. Maybe few people who loathed him from choosing the easiest path to become artiste. It was a long time ago since he used to be an underground rapper. Namjoon and him were hated for being an idol so they had cut off their ties with them. That was the last time they ever met the crews and to think someone would do this to him after years sounded unreasonable.
“We found the culprit! Lets head to the company now!” their manager popped out from nowhere surprising everyone.
“What? How? Who?” Hoseok and Jungkook said in sync, as they were already on their feet.
The tall man nodded while grabbing the keys “He turned himself in. We will get our answers soon. So, let’s go now” Seul eyes widened at the revelation. If the person really turned himself in, then why would he waste his energy to commit those crime.
“Do you want to tag along?” Yoongi touched Seul shoulder “I can make use of your presence beside me, please” his eyes bore into her. Seul hesitated to know she was in no place to be around the boys publicly.
They heard their manager emitted a deep sigh, “Seul, come with us. You may need to stop someone from causing a scene” his eyes were fixated on Yoongi. He knew exactly how the guy would react, Yoongi’s anger was not a joke.
“Sure…” Yoongi grabbed his extra mask and helped to put it on her. It was needed to protect the girl from being exposed to medias or Armys. At least, they might see her as one of the staffs instead of spreading false rumours.
For an odd reason, she didn’t feel good about this. She just couldn’t rid this uneasiness in her. Was she overthinking about the whole thing?
  This work belongs to  Chimswae © 2020. All Rights Reserved
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angellgguk · 4 months ago
How about a drabble where daddy jin jin is drinking at home after a long day and he's happy that he has a family whoch makes him happy. He's drinking alone and then he has a long convo with jihoon about how family is important in a man's life blah blah all that father-son talk. And then jihoon asks cutely and slyly "so if you love your fam soooo much, does that mean you also love mommy soooooo much😊😊" could you write a short drabble or maybe daddy jin's reaction, whatever works for u
changed it the slightest lol.
Now playing- Only then:Roy Kim
“Dadda bright” seokjin gulped the malt down before turning around to face his son rubbing the sleep away from his eyes.he pushed the glass to the side and rolled his barstool around and opened his arms for Jihoon to run to him.his son yawned and waddled to him while clutching tight onto his spiderman plush.
He didn’t have to climb over his father’s legs like usual since Seokjin was quick to bend down and pick him up to place him on his lap.Jihoon whined under his breath and backed into his father’s chest.Seokjin smiled down and pushed his son’s hair away from his eyes, reminding himself to take him for a haircut.
“Dadda too late” Jihoon’s mumbles did remind him that it was quite late and it was better for him to be asleep.but he was not done being happy “Jihoon-ah do you know who I saw today?” the boy seemed mundane and looked like he only wanted to sleep in his father’s arms,
“I met uncle tae” the mention of his favorite uncle had Jihoon brightening up and turning around to hear more, his father smiled down at him and held onto the back of his knees and to hold him still on his legs, “he said he wanted to give you a cousin to play with” Jihoon giggled and sat back down with his legs dangling over Seokjin’s thighs,
“Do you know how lucky you are to have me and mommy?” Jihoon expected to listen to his father excite him about a cousin that he might get in the near future not how important a family was in a man’s life his innocent mind only wondered if this was the reason Seokjin stayed away when he had a drink, he yawned once more and leant against his chest to let out a rather loud yawn.
Jihoon wasn’t interested in any of Seokjin’s advice's but it still didn’t help him to sleep, so he was forced to wriggle his legs around and play with spidey’s ears as his father continued to oversay everything, “you should love-”
“Dadda, do you love mommy that much?” Jihoon’s question was obvious and Seokjin himself was the Jihoon, family meant mommy, daddy and himself so it was obvious that he thought all the words Seokjin had said was meant for him and his mother, not his uncles or grandparents.
But Seokjin looked taken aback he cocked a brow and let his grip on the boy loosen, he didn’t want to openly tell his toddler that he is yet to realize that so he just nodded his head barely, completely regretting teaching him values too early.but his drunk self didn’t allow him to stop so he parted his mouth to start about respect, something he was never thought to give many people.
“Mommy sleepy” Seokjin was quick to understand why Jihoon was suddenly as sleepy and had suddenly changed the parent.he bent down to place the boy back on the floor for him to shuffle over to you.
You smiled and picked him up, he instantly clinged onto you and rested one of his full cheeks on your shoulder blades making it pat his back as you walked back to put him back to bed but your husband’s voice and the lid of his Balvenie twisting open again stopped you.
“You’ve been here long enough haven’t you?”
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wakeupfreanz · 4 months ago
hi there! i wanna ask u to do a energy checkup on our precious wwh, Kim Seokjin. i luv that man w my everything. seeing him come to army w abyss (thats a gem) n tell us how he shows us his bright side n not his dark ones🥺 i wanna know if our baby is doing okay. thank you for doing this.
He’s got some good things coming his way. 3 of wands, temperance, queen of cups rev, overall ace of wands. He might have been in a period of being uninspired of being drained, but he’s balancing himself back out. He’s getting ready to try and do new things idea wise. Overall, he’s doing pretty well!
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