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#BTS FIC
ressjeon · 2 days
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relief | myg (m.)
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pairing ⇢ yoongi x reader (hints of ot7)
genre/au ⇢ smut, fluff, idol!au, long time ??
summary ⇢ the nerves have been shaking Yoongi’s usual confidence while preparing for his first solo tour — what a relief that you’re here then.
wc & rating ⇢ 3k | 18+
warnings/content ⇢ dom/sub dynamics, grinding, protected sex, riding, emotional sex?, praise kink, groping, semi-clothed sex, size kink, breast play, temperature play, orgasm control, yoongi’s hands are everywhere help, aftercare, pillowtalk <3
a/n: it's been a year since yoong's tour kicked off so i wanna celebrate with this, along with my return here! never thought i'll do this cuz i don’t usually write nor read this au but he won again on the poll last year so here we are XD! this is mainly inspired by what i was feeling while watching the live stream of both his shows in the first city of his d-day tour! pretty divider by the amazing @cafekitsune <3
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after the final song, you were just as surprised as the crowd around you. a faint chuckle leaves you at the way Yoongi ended his concert.
of course, you should've expected that he'll pull something like this. 
“i’m so proud of you yoongs” 
you greet him enthusiastically as soon as you spot him at the entrance of the hallways near his dressing room. he’s smiling so wide, reaching you at once with his airport-like walk like how he exited the stage quickly earlier.
you beam once he catches you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders despite how sweaty he is.
“it went well” he giggles lightly, caging you in his arms before grabbing your hand to bring you to the backstage area where you both can see the audience without being seen.
the gummy smile plastered on his face never wavered as he watches the fans dispersing outside and you have an inkling that it's reminding him of the world tours with the boys before.
“i told you it would” you whisper once he turns to you, leaning in to give him a peck but Yoongi’s hand reaches up to grab your neck, pulling you in to catch your lips once more and deepen the kiss.
a small whimper elicits from you, both from being needy and worry that any staff might see you both like this but Yoongi seems to not care. it must be the adrenaline and the whiskey combo he had during the concert cause his calloused hands start roaming your body. 
a total opposite during soundcheck where he’s simply cuddling you while waiting during the delay that he almost fell asleep.
though Yoongi's performed in front of millions of people for a decade now, he still feels anxious since he’s doing this on his own and it’s been a long time since he met his fans in person. he was naturally nervous about this but you’ve been doing your best to support him so he's really grateful that you’re here.
teasing him earlier when he put those yellow sunglasses on while you rake your hand through his luscious locks thankfully helped ease his nerves.
"yeah yeah i saw the cat edit"
“you’re so cute”
.
a firm grab of your ass reminds you of where the two of you are, nudging Yoongi slightly to release you. both breathless from the kiss, he’s looking at you in bewilderment until you gestured him to the waiting staff who’s here to take his post-concert pictures.
“pics first” 
he only answered with a pout after releasing you but he followed. you on the other hand couldn't look at the photographer as embarrassment floods you, immediately retreating to the dressing room to wait for Yoongi there.
grabbing another glass of Henny, you scroll through your phone for updates on what’s going on outside. you did sneak out earlier and lined up with fans to get some merch and talked to some of them because well, you are one of them.
loving the boys and their music is one thing you share in common.
.
after a while, the door opens, revealing a smiling Yoongi like he hadn’t been teasing you this whole time.
maybe that was part of his plan but you’ve been patiently waiting. it even came to the point where you can't wait to be all over him now that everything’s done for the night.
placing your empty glass of brandy on the small side table, you drop your phone on the couch before approaching Yoongi. he chuckles when you hastily drag him toward the couch before climbing on his lap.
he doesn’t mind really, knowing how needy you get after he performs like you were in the past. he might’ve unintentionally teased you like he does to everyone else but it's one of the things he loved about you. 
how easily you get turned on in every little thing he and the others do but especially for this. knowing his voice can make you crumble instantly gives him that satisfaction that he didn’t know he had when he first met you.
“you’re worked up this much __?” he teases, hands situating themselves on both sides of your waist. “is it the black or white one?” he adds nonchalantly, pertaining to his outfits prior to the one he’s wearing right now.
“shut up, you know what your voice does to me” you whine impatiently, clutching the silver bone necklace around his neck before leaning in to kiss him again.
ah, the chain, another one that you love seeing on him. he'll always be fascinated with your favourites no matter how long you've been with them.
you deepened the kiss this time and Yoongi welcomed them with fervour. it’s his turn to get lost in the moment now that you’re needier than him. his ending fit riled you up this much that now you’re grinding yourself desperately on him but hey, he’s not complaining. 
his hands smooth around your covered thighs after, lingering between the crease of your legs before he releases your lips.
“i’m surprised you’re wearing leggings, you hate it” 
“it’s cold”
“explains the sweatshirt too” he muses, one hand tugging the baggy sleeve of your white tour sweatshirt with both his aliases on your chest.
his heart warms seeing it on you, the way you’re proudly wearing him even though this whole thing between you and them still remains a secret. his hands creep underneath your top, caressing your sides that hasten your roll against his crotch.
you lean in to kiss Yoongi once more but he grabs your sides, stopping you.
“want it off though” he whispers, the mischief in his eyes shifts to a demanding one.
his darkening orbs are looking straight into yours, making you squirm against him. you didn’t waste any time at once, taking off both your sweatshirt and your bra in a frenzy, much to Yoongi’s satisfaction.
you’d know with that cocky look resurfacing on his pretty face.
now that you’re bare in front of him, Yoongi can see your crotch rubbing along the top of his denim zippers. he could watch you like this, let you get off on your own until you cum like he’s done many times but he relents.
lately, he’s been so busy with the tour preparation that he missed seeing you this needy. he reaches down to cup your pussy, not surprised to find you drenched knowing how easy it is for you to get wet. 
you squirm at his touch, trying to get more friction by rubbing your swollen clit on the buckle of his belt. he knows it's you silently wanting his fingers to help you get off but his hand abruptly leaves you.
frustration looms on your face, your lips turning into a frown but Yoongi grabs your body closer and instantly latches his mouth on your tits, earning a surprised shriek from you.
“yoongi!” 
you didn’t mean to be loud but with how Yoong’s been licking your pebbled nipples and occasionally nibbling them, you’re starting to forget that there are still people outside the door who can hear you both.
one hand of yours takes a handful of his messy jet-black hair, pushing his face more into your chest. he groans and continues to nip around one tit while his other hand plays around your neglected breast.
kneading and pinching nonstop, you’re unable to hold in the whiny moans coming out of you as your other hand grips his shoulder. you’re relishing it, the rough feeling of callous fingers against your now-swollen nipples. 
taking a glance down at Yoongi, you notice how wet he is. he's drenched in sweat but my fuck does he look even hotter when he does. his mouth releases your peppered breasts, opting to fondle your clothed pussy this time.
“don’t tell me you’ve been wet since the first song” he teases and you look away from his heated gaze. he got his answer when he felt your cunt twitch through your clothed core. rough pads of his fingers rub you faster, more of your slickness seeping through your leggings to his hands.
he was clad in all black earlier, one of your favourites so he wasn’t that surprised.
“yoongi..” you’re panting, almost begging him with the way you're gripping his hair and shoulders. you need him to do something, anything more than teasing at this point. 
it surprises you when Yoongi grabs the empty glass of Henny that you put aside on the table earlier, taking the ice to his mouth and he’s back to assaulting your breasts. he rolls the ice cube with his tongue around your nipples, making you shiver at the cold and wet sensation.
you’re whimpering, legs shaking as the band on your lower abdomen threatens to snap with how Yoongi’s cold and wet fingertips fondling your core. the multiple stimulations are pushing you nearer to your orgasm. you’re not sure if he’s aware or not, if this was his plan all along.
“..oh fuck” 
“hmm?” 
“yoongi..i don’t.. wanna cum in this” 
you cry, eyes mustering your neediest look towards him, hoping he’ll listen to your pleas. and Yoongi did, his hand leaving your drenched pussy and mouth releasing your breast. relief courses through you, smiling at him despite the uncomfy feeling of your leggings sticking to your core.
“of course, you don’t, always wanting to cream my cock” 
he doesn’t say it in a mocking manner, the hint of adoration coming forward within his hooded eyes. you get off of him once his hands release you, quickly shimmying down your leggings while he unbuckles his baggy pants and boxers.
you didn’t miss him whipping out a condom from his front pocket, making you suspicious with your arms now crossed over your chest. 
“and why-”
“you’re here and i did remember you love being fucked anywhere”
he answers right away and your face morphs in shame, arms sliding down to your elbows, revealing your breasts again to Yoongi.
you hate being paranoid like this though you know he’s always been prepared. and he’s right, you do love it when they fuck you anywhere they like whether it be on the venue, in their vans or in their hotel rooms. 
it’s one of your favourites when you join them on tours before.
“yoon–..” you try but he beckons you closer and helps you back onto his lap, kissing you right away and ignoring your protests because he knew right away what you were gonna say.
“none of that hmm? lemme get you ready”
he took himself out and put on the condom already before his hands skitter around your inner thighs.
“no” 
he quirks a brow at you, wanting to make sure if that's what you want. even though you’re stark naked figure’s been enticing him to just fuck it and ruin you like you’ve been begging for, he's been a pro at controlling himself to prepare you.
huffing before wrapping your hands around his neck, you squeeze his nape as an answer. 
you just want him inside you and you don’t wanna wait anymore.
a smirk graces Yoongi's face at your impatience before helping your body up to grind on him again.
now rubbing your bare pussy against his dick, you enjoy watching him seethe with each friction. your hips circle until his swollen tip catches your entrance, pausing just to tease him. one of his hands scrambles to grip your hip and you chuckle before lifting yourself, grabbing his dick and lowering slowly.
“fuck,fuck,fuck” 
you watch Yoongi close his eyes, a plethora of curses coming out from his mouth. you’re whimpering in return, pussy walls fluttering around him to try to accommodate his thick girth.
“big..fuck, yoongi” you cry, tears threatening to well in your eyes. 
you love the feeling though and he knows it but Yoongi still tries to comfort you, roaming his veiny hands around your body till he reaches your breasts.
you start moving your hips slowly, planting your hands against his clothed chest as you try to take more of him. his hands fly on both sides of your waist, feline eyes also watching you while you’re slowly adjusting to him.
“more..” he grunts, prompting you to go faster as he tightens his grip on your waist. you try to roll your hips faster then deeper until you bottomed down.
pausing for a bit, you couldn’t help but lean in and whine against his clothed shoulder with how his cock’s filling you deliciously. 
he has other plans though, releasing a deep groan after you unconsciously clenched around him. he starts fucking up to you, pouring all that adrenaline rush coursing through his bloodstream. 
a loud moan escapes you when he finds that soft spot, causing you to pull back and again note the cocky smirk emerging on his handsome face.
“yoongi..fuck” 
“shhhh”
he silences you with a finger on his puckered lips, hips bucking up to you faster while he repeatedly hits that spongy spot again.
you struggle but you wanna be good for him so you close your eyes and force yourself to keep your moans in. it results in you gasping instead, small whimpers still escaping you with how magnified everything feels. 
“you listen really well baby” amusement laces Yoongi’s tone, eliciting deep moans after when you clamp around him with the praise. his groans spur you to ride him faster but you’re starting to feel the burn on your legs.
he must’ve felt you slowing down cause you found him grinning once you reopened your eyes. gritting your teeth, you dig your nails into Yoongi’s clothed shoulders and call his name in a whimper, biting your lip to hold back your release but his praise makes you crumble.
"yeah? come on __" he gauges you, kissing you at once to swallow the moans that you couldn’t keep in once you reach your peak.
he slows down his pace, letting you ride your own high as his mouth peppers your jaw then later your neck with kisses. his hands continue to caress your naked body until they reach down on your ass.
you let out a surprised yelp when he squeezes them hard, causing you to grip his damp hair once he starts fucking up to you again. 
calling your name with a deep groan, you whimper by his ear in response as he chases his release. he’s relentless with his fucking, groping your ass nonstop until you feel him explode in the condom.
you do miss it when he fills you up but you both can’t risk anything while he’s still on tour.
“shit..” he chuckles after releasing you, pushing his hair back with a satisfied look on his face but it shortly disappears when he notices the small tears in your eyes.
“was i too rough?” he worries but you shake your head. 
“you know i love it” you reply with a quick peck to his now perplexed face. he doesn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue. 
“i just got emotional..you know” 
a small smile of relief breaks into Yoongi’s face, stroking your naked back while you’re both coming down from your highs. 
“i’m glad you’re here” he whispers, kissing your forehead. you don’t fucking know why you're suddenly emotional but it could be because of oxytocin flowing through you right now.
“the seesaw acoustic made me cry” you sniff, nuzzling Yoongi's clothed chest that’s a bit damp now, mixed with sweat and your tears but neither of you mind it.
“why? the lyrics still?” 
he did remember you crying after hearing it for the first time years ago, the lyrics being the sole reason of it.
“it’s just.. i don’t know, it reminds me of when you guys were touring before” you admit, melancholy in your voice while you reminisce watching his solo performance during their last world tour as a group. 
“thank you” he pauses, looking away from you. “for staying with us after all these years”.  he takes your hand and plays with it as he says those words.
you adore this side of Yoongi and now you feel bad for doubting him earlier. meeting them years ago and staying this entire time meant a lot of hardships that you went through together with the rest of his members.
“i miss all of you together” you give Yoongi a quick peck on his heated cheeks before giggling, all the sadness gone at the sight of him blushing. he sits up right away and grabs your face to do the same on your lips before lifting your body off of him.
“you see each of them all the time more than i do, i’m jealous”
he gets up, pulling off the used rubber before picking up your clothes that he threw around earlier. he emerges in front of you after, wet wipes in his hand as he parts your sore legs.
“who knows, maybe me and Jimin will drop by” 
he stops, letting out a snort and you raise a brow at him, mind suddenly alert to the possibility.
“he’s coming right?” 
“idk babe” he’s got that teasing smile and you wanna cry. 
“yoonggiiiii..”
“is this why you came here?”
“no” 
you’re back to sulking because the boys won’t tell you anything either. it’s something they’ve all kept a secret cause even Jimin won’t budge earlier when you tried to get the answer from him during pillow talk. 
however, Yoongi surprises you amidst your sulking when his head’s suddenly between your legs, licking up a stripe of your swollen folds, causing you to whine at the sensitivity.
he knows you’re tired so he stops your hand from grabbing his damp hair.
 “later” he mutters, licking his glistened lips as he wipes your pussy. 
you didn’t reply, still lying down on the couch while trying to put your bra, panties and leggings back on. getting up would be impossible so you wanna stay on the couch for a bit to cool down.
“i wanna surprise everyone okay? and you’re always on stan twitter”
he gives up, grinning at you with that adorable gummy smile before grabbing another glass of whiskey on the table. 
then instead of wearing it back, you throw your merch shirt at him.
“YOU GET DEETS BECAUSE OF ME” you yell, earning a deep chuckle from Yoongi.
then he pulls out his phone and takes a picture of you, sending it to your group chat with a thumbs up caption. the others surprisingly replied immediately, with Jimin responding with a wink emoji.
oh they will pay for this.
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e/n: it's been a long time lmao how are y'all? btw i wrote this during those two days and haven't opened it in almost a year now so 😂
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frmisnow · 12 hours
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✧˖ ?!— MEMORIES W. BF! JUNGKOOK
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—🐟 ‧₊˚ — : " you are so mean !! "
summary. just a collection of fluffy (& suggestive) moments that could've been a whole fic... but didn't become one!
notes. *insert tiktok audio: did you miss us? cause we missed you* i've been wanting to write quite often since me taking a break but the weeks have been TOUGH- regardless i did rly miss all of you ;( hope you enjoy this lil bf! bf! bf! jungkook drabble headcanon-ish thing (?) as a makeup gift for me being gone!!! ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
warnings/includes. the most teeth-rotting boyfriend kook there is rly, two very very in love individuals!!, suggestive (making out & hickeys mentioned), drunk
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✧˖ #001. A WISH 4 TATS & ALCOHOL = A MESS.
"this is a horrible idea," you mumbeled as you both stumbeled into another darkly light street, "i got this," jungkook hummed, carefully examining the road to the nearest tattoo shop google maps suggested on his phone.... which was upside down.
"jung- that's not right," shaking your head, turning his phone around, his mouth opening and closing again, "oh"
"you're so smart!" he squeezed your cheeks together, creating one big large pout, placing a quick peek right after which of course turned into the both of you manically making out, leaning back onto the graffiti-filled dirty street wall, the taste of alcohol blatantly evident.
whenever a person would walk by, jungkook would momentarily stop (still holding your face) but turning around and mouthing a quick 'sorry', doing a big ass bow to highlight his apologies- the person would just walk continue walking faster to get out of this alley (and the both of you)
you'd give him a tiny slap on the head murmuring something about him being stupid which he'd dramatically pout about (and probably kiss you to prove you 'wrong' which was just an non-sensical excuse really).
safe to say you woke up the next days with two super cheesy tattoos grazing both of your thighs and a whole lotta hickeys!
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✧˖ #002. MAKE IT LIKE UR BIRTHDAY EVERYDAY!
work was shit literally. the days were tough to the point where the only thing you were looking forward to at the end of the day was seeing jungkook.
ever since your work has been loading you with more & more labour, you could tell he always tried to show up earlier than you, it was in his best efforts to greet the exhausted you, open the door with the widest smile and instantly tightly hug you.
today was no different- at least you thought, in fact it turned out that you completly forgot about your own birthday, leading to you being even more surprised when you walked in directly to an even more wider-smiling jungkook then the usual, holding about five pink ballons.
a rather... messy cake delicately placed on the desk, light-up candles grazing the very very colorful dessert, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!" he yelled out, the large grin never making it's way off his face.
"you're so old," he babbeled jokingly, the second he saw your watery eyes immediately embracing you, mumbling something about 'i didn't mean the old-thing anyway' which made you smile again.
so the night ended with the both of you eating the surpisingly well-turned-out cake together as he listened to you rant about how shitty your boss and work place was, nodding along and grinning at some of your comments.
something in his gaze was so loving and always attentive- certaintly this was one of the best birthdays you had.
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✧˖ #003. YOU ARE SO MEAN!
"one more beer and i might just say you are developing an alcohol addiction," you perclaimed, taking the glass out of jungkooks hands (that were dramatically holding on for dear life) with a little bit of force, in response getting a loud noise of dissapproval from his direction.
he rested his head on the desk, eyes still open, examining you carefully, "don't say that!"
"oh i will," you bopped his nose sarcastically, your tone more sassy than serious, taking a sip of the beer that you now declared yours.
jungkooks face disappeared into his arms as fast as it was visable in the first place, a whiny mumble being heared through the hair that was in your view: "you're so mean"
you could firmly hear the pout in his voice which made you smile when you responded: "and you are very tired, let's get you to sleep"
leaving the beer on the kitchen table, you used your whole power to lift the grown man of the chair (who was now just as desperately like before fighting back), whines and tiny groans being heard through out the kitchen as you lead him to the bathroom.
"i didn't mean the mean thing by the way," he muttered almost inaudibly while brushing his teeth slowly, "no, i know" you ruffeled through his hair, wrapping your arm around his waist, the both of you looking into the mirror at the same time, the reflection making you both giggle.
"i'm never drinking with you again!"
"you don't mean that"
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wildestdreamsblog · 3 days
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Hyung Line Reaction: Visit in prison to say goodbye
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Kofi Exclusive Preview:
Kim Namjoon
“Apparently,” You cut him off, your eyes trained to the table, refusing to let him see how he broke you. “-the man I married does not exist. Ergo, the marriage does not exist,” you scoffed sadly, shaking your head at the years wasted on a sham of a marriage.
“That’s impossible, darling. Your claim won’t stand in any court. You know why?” he sneered, his jaw clenched as he attempted to control the burning rage he felt when you told him you were leaving him. “Because all of them are terrified of me, whether they admit it or not.”
“You’re lying-“
“And darling, don’t you remember the vow I made when we got married? That you and me, we are forever. And If I ever lose you, I will burn this whole world to the ground.” 
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hyukaslvr · 15 hours
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strong enough | J. Jungkook (3)
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<series masterlist
pairing: Jungkook x (f) reader
genre/tags: idol! Jungkook, idol! reader, idiot exes to lovers, slow burn ; k-drama feels (our beloved summer but not at the same time), angst, drama, fluff, smut
warnings: foul/explicit language, alcohol consumption, unhealthy coping mechanisms, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters, panic attacks, reader is harsh towards Jungkook, Jungkook is a meanie!, mentions of old abuse (major trigger warning!!), talk about blood and wounds
w.c: aproxx 11.2
series summary: you and Jungkook have too many personal problems, during and after your relationship and it keeps getting brought up. you both had tried multiple times to ignore the fact you were both struggling mentally and physically due to your workplace, but you always run back to each other. maybe one day, one day you'll get back to each other, with all your problems handled, maybe not. all you want is for him to shine like he always does, all he wants is you.
a/n at very bottom!
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To my love, my forever. You will soon find out the reason why I am the way am I. Give me some time, my love, I will express everything and more to you. Soon, you’ll have everything once I am able to love and care for myself the way I want to do to you. You deserve everything and more than what I could ever give you, and I will be there for you always. I may never give you this, I may never allow you to read this. But just know, you mean so much to me. Even if I’m a pain in the ass, or if I piss you off, you will always be the person who helped me want to change for the better. I know it may seem like i’m leaving you behind, but pushing you away is the best way for me and you to be able to find ourselves. Once we are settled and ready, I will never let you go, ever again. Mark my words, use them against me, but I know that once you let me in, I’ll never leave your side ever again. You’re my one and only, forever. You are my future, my light, the person who drags me to be right. You mean so much to me and more. But for now, let me go to become the one that deserves your love and wellbeing. Take care of yourself, Jungkook, you will do many good things in life, with or without me.
“i think you should give it to him,” one of your members slur out, making your already wobbly head tilt up to her as she hiccups for the 5th time that same hour, you sighed and your head pounded as your squinted tightly to look at her, “seriously! i think he would want closure that way,”
Jungkook definitely did. he knew that when you wrote letters, you meant every little thing. he knew something happened between you and your ex, his name is like a slap in the face to you, and he could always notice.
his hands started to shake as he continued to read your note, he didn’t know how you came all the way to his house just to ring the door bell and drop it off. he was even shocked to notice his name in your handwriting on the top of the note. he wasn’t mad about it, he was just so, so sad. his eyes burned as another drop fell onto his lap. Jungkook knew it was for the best, but why does it hurt so bad and why does he feel like he’ll never get better while you do?
Jungkook didn’t want to think that way, but he did. he always did, he hurts to see you go but hurts even more to see you shine without him. he kept all your little notes in a box, he was really considering giving it back to you since it was at some of your most vulnerable times. he wouldn’t want to keep these just in case he snoops through them, like he’s doing right now as he was putting the other note in there along with the tons of others.
one of them wrote a song that you made about him, him never leaving you and the way you love him. it breaks his heart more, knowing that you’re no longer around, and that he just keeps fucking up.
when you wake up the next morning, your hungover member told you about a box she found outside the door step with your name on it, your ears ring as you stand in front of the box sitting on your bed, biting the inside of your cheek because this was Jungkook’s box. it had a polaroid of the two of you with shots in your hands on his balcony last summer. it was his favorite picture of you both and wanted to keep it with all the letters you even written him.
you pace around your room for like and hour, biting your lip and running your hand through your hair to calm yourself down. it finally felt like you guys were officially over, no matter how many times you’ve broken up. when you opened it finally, there was a new one, one you definitely didn’t write. you don’t even remember going to his house and giving him the one you were gonna keep for your sake.
it was Jungkook’s hand writing, you knew it from the back of your palm, literally as you have a tattoo that he gave you himself. it read,
forever
and looking at it makes you sick. you felt like crap anytime you thought of him, what you had put him through, all the stuff he doesn’t know about you. you knew him so well, but did he actually even know you, truly? it made you want to cry, the tears lining your waterline and you fight the urge.
you give yourself time before opening up his letter, preparing yourself for the worst or to cry. when you start reading it, you felt like he was there with you. it felt as if he was pacing around your room, looking you dead in the eyes and telling you everything you’ve been wanting to hear, but at the wrong time.
I miss you a lot, I know I say that a lot, but it’s true. I’m glad you wrote me this, I’m glad you’re trying to find ways to open up to me, I’m glad you love me. You are my everything, I want what’s best for you, and if it’s not me then so be it. You deserve the whole fucking world, and I hope you know I tried so hard to give it to you. Maybe, in the long run, we can be happy together. Maybe we can be able to know each other truly, I always wanted to. I believe in right person, wrong time, because you’ll forever be my person, even if i’m not in the picture. I love you, ______, I always will.
you wanted to sob, you didn’t even know what to do. you had dropped the note off not expecting anything back, but getting everything back? even a letter from him, confessing how much he loves and cares for you. you didn’t know how to feel, if it was closure or not. to you, yours was supposed to be. his, his was a love letter, you’ll never let go of it.
you had one more promotion for you group, and you had to prepare in so many ways. you had to practice tons, and practing handling your emotions until you’re a zombie to what you truly feel, you couldn’t handle being around Jungkook for long. it’s crazy, how much you used to look at him thinking you’d never do anything to hurt him, yet you’re over here making him suffer because you are in your head. it tears at the deepest parts of you, and it makes you feel so much at once.
so when it came to the event, you felt your knees lock when you saw him sitting with his team. he looked breathtaking, and it sucks that you can’t look at him for long before you cry because he looks too good. Jungkook always looked good, but whenever you wanted to ignore him, it’s like he knows and wants to look that fine. you gulp hard because walking to over your assigned seats, a couple seats back behind them but at an angle to a way that you can see every part of Jungkook, his hands and thighs especially.
ones that put you through hell, sent you to another universe is what he would of said and has said before, smoking off your balcony as you sat on his lap with your legs shaking trying to not fall off. he laughed as he smacked your thighs, watching them shake more as you practically whine in soreness.
he took another puff off his cig before putting it down on his designated ash tray, but even knowing you didn’t smoke, he kissed you hard, forcing the hot smoke into your mouth and through your pipes, allowing him to do anything to you because you were obsessed with everything he did.
“fucked you out, huh, princess?” he said against your ear as he gave you a second to breathe, making you almost choke as his hand started to move down and between your thighs, giving them a squeeze before going deep between them to touch you where you shook the most.
let’s just say, the memory had your legs close tightly together. the thought of how much have gave you that night, it made you miss him even more for just taking care of you like he said he would. you could feel it starting to stick against your skin, immediately wanting to go to the bathroom.
you thought you were stable enough to walk down the stairs in front of all the idols and fans including, instead you almost dropped face first into the steps instead someone’s hand wrapped around your waist and around the inside of your thigh, gripping it hard as they held you from falling to your death infront of thousands of people.
“your shoes too big for you, baby?”
you really thought you were going crazy, that his presence was just teasing you. but as your eyes dragged themselves down to the hand around the inside of your thigh, you weren’t going crazy. the tattoos proving who the man really was and how his thumb was very close to your throbbing clit. you shivered before quicking bowing at him once you leave his grip and speed walking towards the exit.
the moment you got alone in a hallway, you looked around before pulling out your phone to text your leader where you were going to be, the bathroom, before you hear a door open behind you. you go to put your phone away, but a tight grip around your waist turns you towards the person, your phone falling on to the floor and your mouth to open up, perfect for the attacker to kiss you hard.
another hand grabs your hair and you immediately knew who it was based on the way he was holding you. he knew, and knew it was because of him. that’s all your thought about when his lips were softly against yours, until you felt his hands creeping up. he just knew how to distract you from the facts and knows how to get you to enjoy his attack.
“can we talk soon, princess?” he whispers lowly in your ear once he pulls away from your now desperate lips trying to reach his. you whimper at the nickname, one that just rolls off his tongue in such a degrading way, he grabs your chin softly, turning your face to face him. his eyes invited yours, and the longer you looked into them, the more you felt entranced by him.
“talk about what?” you sighed into his hold, which he notices and gives you your favorite smile in the whole world. it hard to ignore his hands gripping your waist, your hands clinging onto his dress shirt as he holds you, you didn’t expect to be in this position.
“we will talk later tonight, i’ll pick you up?”
“how, with what car-”
“i’ll figure it out, anything for you,” he presses his forehead against yours, making your eyes squeeze shut as he lets out a little chuckle because of your reaction to his proximity being so close to you, you could almost feel his breath against your lips. “you know i’ll do whatever i need to do to see you, i will figure out a way to see you later tonight, bunny, i promise,” he kisses your nose softly before letting you go without your even realizing he picked up your phone for you, a smile across his face as you nodded your head for him.
Jungkook didn’t give you a time, or a place to when he was going to pick you up. before you left the event, you had asked him what he was planning on doing with you and he just told you that you’ll have to wait and find out. Jungkook knew how to make you worry about what could happen. what should you even wear? is he taking me somewhere to eat? it’s kinda late for that-
doink
something just hit your window as you were pulling your pants up, you almost tripped in shock but managed to pull them up and fix yourself before going to your window. there he was, the man of your dreams, the love of your life, standing down there searching for more rocks to toss at your window.
you cracked your dorm room window open, not even wanting to question how he managed to get over the brick wall to get into the dorms, and he smiles when he sees your head peaking from the bottom of the window. he pats his hands on his thighs while you watch him with curiosity.
“get down here bunny, we have a lot to do tonight,” he stood up straight, hands put in his pockets as he stared off at you. you would of jumped right there into his arms after that nickname, you almost whined before nodding your head like an idiot and shutting your window.
you managed to sneak out, grabbed your shoes at the front and headed out from the back blind spot and running to where Jungkook stood, his hands tucked in his pockets to stay warm. his left arm raised so you could wrap your arm around it, a habit of the both of you. you just ignored the bad feelings and wrapped your arm around his, feeling his arm tighten around yours as you both started to walk to the car.
“you gonna tell me where we’re going, Jeon?” you tilt your head, your left knee against his center console as your left side rested on his passenger seat. his hand slid up to your knee, leaving you in shock as he gripped it in warning.
“stop asking questions, baby,” he tapped his finger on your knee, not even bothering to look your way. you huffed as you closed your eyes, trying to ignore his thumb moving against your thigh now, his hand resting against it too.
“Jungkook, you know we can be doing this again. i know you remember what happened last time,” you warned, your head felt like it was spinning, none of this felt real. Jungkook bit his lip ring in thought, he just wanted to talk to you and apologize. he always wants to talk to you even if he’s been rude.
“______, what do you think i’m going to do to you tonight?” he spoke deeply, it sent waves through your spine, and down to your poor kitty. it’s crazy, what this big eyed man can do to you with only his hand on your thigh while he speaks to you like your his.
“i- i don’t know, what are you asking me? i’m just confused why you’re doing this-”
“what do you want me to do to you tonight, baby? is there something else bothering you that only i can fix?” his hand rubs your inner thigh, occasionally softly squeezing the skin closest to where you needed help the most. “i’ll do whatever you want me to do to you, you just have to speak up, darling. is that okay? can you do that for me, princess?”
you almost moaned, gasping at his eagerness to help you with whatever you want, and you knew he meant that. “Jungkook, we can’t be doing thing again, as much as we want to-”
“fuck that and fuck no contact, we were doing good as fuck the last time we were friends. can we not be friends, baby?”
“that’s why! you keep calling me my favorites, you can’t do that to me..” you whined, you wanted to hide away as he giggled at how you whined. when the car slowly starts to come to a stop, you got reminded that the whole time you were talking to him, getting teased by him, he was driving. “Jungkook… where are we?”
“let me help you out and show you,” he smiled, and you just knew that you had to trust him, why? because he’s Jeon Jungkook, why wouldn’t you trust the love of your life?
when he open your door, hand already reaching for his as he helped you out of the car, the smell of salt hit your face in a whiff, making you smile at the moment you had at this beach with Jungkook. but why here? why did he want to talk here?
you didn’t trust your voice, watching his open his back door to grab a blanket and cigs, which you thought he quit, with a lighter and a flashlight. you didn’t say a word as you hugged onto his arm as he walked to a specific place, your guys place. the place where he gave you head for the very first time, you found sand up there for at least a day after that.
“do you trust me, sugar?” Jungkook asked you, tugging you to sit next to him on the blanket over the cold sand at the dark lonely beach. it’s like he knew what you were worried about, could you trust him again? it’s not like he broke your trust, it’s about you trusting yourself around him. if anything besides talking happens tonight, and you guys become exactly what you were afraid of becoming, you won’t know what to do with yourself.
it’s a bit selfish you thought, as his hand rested against your shoulder as you snuggled against his neck, breathing in only Jungkook and a little bit of salt. you loved this, but it couldn’t get any farther than this. just small, and slight, touches and sometimes kisses, only at certain times. the sound of the waves crashing tingled your ears, debating if you should listen to his heartbeat or not.
“do you know why i want you out here with me tonight, baby?” his voice vibrated your cheek as he spoke, his fingers gliding against the thin fabric of your long sleeved shirt. you hummed, you felt him swallow before you moved your head to face him.
“i wouldn’t have asked you that a million times in the car, Jungkook,” he smiles when your eyes finally reach his. he used to ask you, what did you see when you looked into his eyes? you usually just laughed it off or ignored the question, but now you think you know the questions answer. Home. in other words, Jungkook was your confort, the one you would go to, the one who makes you feel the safest, the one who keeps you feeling warm. Jungkook was your favorite.
Jungkook leans in, you can almost feel his breath against the wind, you almost forget where you are when you look deeply into his eyes. he leans so close to you that you could almost kiss him. you feel his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer- and closer to him, until your hovering above him.
you looked down at him, his hand sliding down your waist and on to your thigh to swing your leg over his body. he’s got you now, almost spread wide for him as his eyes glazed your entire body, making your shiver.
“let’s that about why you were so wet when i caught you from eating shit in front of everyone today, huh? or maybe… why you’re so wet right now, was it from the car ride? you just couldn’t wait, hm? baby?” he smacked your thigh, and you almost whimper at his words, “sit down on me, love. you know you want to. i’ll do anything you want me to, just let me in this one or more times and you won’t regret it this time,”
oh boy, you were in for a ride. baby, princess, sugar, darling, bunny, love. hearing that one burned, deeply in two places. your poor heart as you feel his hands grip your sides, and your poor throbbing cunt that it about to get slammed onto his hard on resting below you. either or, you know you’re safe and whatever happens can be dealt with. why? because you’re with Jeon Jungkook, why wouldn’t it be fine?
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a/n: holy shit, this took forever and i sincerely apologize!! i love how this episode turned out and i will give you guys a slight warning! spicy scenes are coming up and I’m not backing down from this. it will be the dirtiest, most greatest- yeah! anyways, thank you for your patience, i love you all🥹
taglist: @loumin908 @heartjiminie @cuntessaiii @parkinglot-nights @minsoa97kor @jkgirlfr @lavendersugarplum @gaebestie @whoa-jo @kp0pficdump @yunholuv @skzthinker @shwkoqp18 @veemegatron @kaiparkerwifes @alextgef @nerdycheol @nightappple @nlr1606 @chl0buggy
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dumpywrites · 15 hours
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Cat-enaries - Min Yoongi / Suga
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Part two of Cat-astrophe 
Summary: all these series of meaningful acts, but you still don’t know where your relationship stands. 
Genre/tags: Fluff, smut (protected sex, vanilla)
Pairing: Yoongi x she/her/afab reader
a/n: this is my first time writing smut! T_T
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Ever since that eventful night you spent at Yoongi’s place, where both of you got drunk and eventually ended up sleeping on the same bed together (just sleeping!), and him wanting to get to know you more, you continued to see each other more and more. Mostly after you came back home from work, but it could be on weekends too if both of you did not have any other plans. 
After a while you began to know some of Yoongi’s friends, and same thing for him as well. He had a small circle but you were surprised on how they bring out the best out of him. He had been doing all these small gestures just like randomly giving you snacks, offering to babysit your cat when you were busy, or just simply wanting your company while he was composing music. Occasionally he would invite you to a party from his management, where you met his co-workers. 
He would only introduce you by your name though, never any label following behind the introduction. A friend? A neighbor? No, just your name. All these things he had done, and never once did he ever mention about relationship, or at least to put a name on your situation. 
It had only been three, going on four months, you kept telling yourself. Maybe he wanted to get to know you slowly and throughly and did not want to rush things. But then again, you knew how straightforward Yoongi was and he would had at least said something about it if that was the case. Maybe it was for the best, reminding yourself of the traumas you got from your past relationships, maybe it was better to take things slowly. But what made you anxious was the thought of falling by yourself.
Tonight you both agreed to watch a horror movie together at your apartment, with the occasion being you just got a promotion. The promotion happened two weeks prior, but both of you were busy. Yoongi had already sent you a dozen of donuts as a celebratory gift, but you insisted on wanting to spend some quality time with him.
“Have you eaten?” You asked as you opened your apartment door for Yoongi. 
“I have.” He simply said and immediately bent down to greet your pet who was meowing by his feet. 
“He misses you.” 
“We see each other a lot, don’t be a clingy cat.” He smiled and booped the cat’s tiny nose. He picked Cookie up and lightly kissed his forehead before letting him back to roaming around the house. 
The scene made your heart race and you cleared your throat. “Well, I also miss you.” You said, hoping Yoongi would catch your intention. 
“I miss you too.” He giggled and ruffled your hair instead, before walking to sit down on your sofa, completely unaware by how disappointed you were. “We’re watching Exhuma, right?” He asked. 
You hummed in agreement, hoping he wouldn’t catch the slight disappointment in the tone of your voice. “You wanna drink something?”
“Anything’s fine.” 
You muttered an “okay” before going to your fridge and grabbed two cans of Sprite and small bowl of popcorn you had made beforehand. You sit down next to him and played the movie and thought to yourself. There wasn’t really anything affectionate happening after you spent the night at his. You had never really kissed officially with you being sober, maybe only once when he kissed your forehead when you went to roller skate together, that was if that could even be counted. 
That day you were struggling to keep your balance and he caught you in his embrace just when you were about to fall frontward. He was laughing and despite being annoyed, you couldn’t help but to get swayed by the sound of his laughter. You didn’t get to process it that much when you felt his lips lightly pressed against your forehead. It happened just for a few second before he let go and simply asked if you were okay. 
Reminiscing the moment had your whole body warm. You put your feet up and hugged your knees together. Yoongi looked to your side, noticing your behavior. 
“Are you cold?” 
“Uh, I don’t know.” It was the opposite, you dummy! You secretly complained. 
“Here,” He grabbed you by your shoulder and scooted you closer to him. “Better?”
“Slightly.” You said, you didn’t realize you were pouting while saying it. 
Yoongi sighed, but a small smile was on his lips. “Only slightly?” 
“Only slightly.” You were annoyed by this point, but you felt awful for wanting to ask, and basically begging, for any skinship from him. 
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He softly asked while stroking your shoulder gently. 
“Do you not like me like that?” You said while avoiding his gaze. “Am I reading the whole situation wrong? Do you just wanna be friends?”
Yoongi chuckled and it annoyed you further more. He had the audacity to find this hilarious while you felt confused and hurt. 
“Yoongi, this isn’t funny.” 
“On what situation is what we’re doing considered as just friends?” His words immediately made you look back at him. 
“I don’t know! You never really said anything about us being a thing, anything, and…” You found it hard to admit that you basically were asking for his affection. “Nevermind, this is stupid! Let’s just get back to the movie…”
“Look at me.”
“No.” You refused, even when your heart was beating faster at his request. 
“Y/N, look at me.” He said again, this time softly grabbing your chin to make you face him. 
Not a single word came out from him after that, only him dipping down quickly to meet your lips. You were surprised but shortly melted into his kiss and found yourself returning it. He was taking his time tasting your lips. His kisses were very gentle that it almost made you beg for more. Slowly his tongue made an entrance and you welcomed it swiftly. A small low moan escaped your lips as you parted them wider for him to access you. 
And when it was done, mainly because both of you were completely breathless, Yoongi hugged you. He chuckled and this time you couldn’t help but to smile as well. 
“I like you. Maybe in love at this point.” He confessed with you still wrapped in his embrace. “I couldn’t recall when exactly the shift to love began and I’ve been thinking to myself these past few weeks… but every time I see you, I keep wondering if there was even any moment when I wasn’t.”
You blushed at this and snuggled closer, hugging him tighter.
“I feel like I’ve been buying extra portions of my food a little too often, been on Instagram more just to send you some random internet memes that you like so much, been making sure I hear that door opening sound when you come home from work, been thinking about you twenty four seven that my music starts to have your vibe, the melodies just sound like they were made for you and I couldn’t even explain how…” He chuckled at the last mention. “The composer even told me that my work has a romantic touch to it lately.”
He broke the hug so he could look at you and smiled, showing his gum a bit. “I’ve given up cause honestly, I can’t even remember what was life before all these feelings.” He shrugged playfully. “Honestly, I don’t think I even wanna remember how life feels without these emotions.”
Your eyes got teary all of the sudden. Your view was getting a bit blurry. A small laugh, mixture of both relief and happiness, escaped your very own lips before you crashed them back on his. Yoongi immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you back close to him. The kiss was more desperate this time, demanding, needy, but most importantly, filled with overwhelming feelings you both had for each other. 
Yoongi swiftly pulled your body and brought you on his lap without breaking the contact on your lips. A muffled squeal came out from you, but you instantly put your arms over his shoulder, deepening the kiss. 
After moments of tongue dancing between the two of you, you pulled back first because once again he had you breathless, but it seemed like he didn’t want you to rest yet, as the moment you pulled away, his lips found their way on your neck, leaving trails of the softest kisses. You bit the insides of your lower lip, trying to subdue the moans that were eager to get out. His thigh being exactly between your legs was certainly not helping you either. Hearing you trying to conceal your voice made him looked up. The sight of you flinching concerned him. 
His right hand palmed your cheek. “I’m sorry, are you uncomfortable? Is this too much?” 
You blush at the tenderness and shook your head in disagreement. “No… uh, I’m not uncomfortable…”
Yoongi smiled at you and quickly kissed your forehead. “Okay.” He simply said, before he went back to put his attention on your neck, showering it with pecks. You were still making low sounds, not trying to conceal your voice as much, just humming with your mouth closed. Your body was still tense but was progressively easing the more his lips kisses you. 
His hands started to move up underneath your top, just shyly under your bra, as if he wasn’t sure if you would grant him more than that. When an open-mouthed moan finally came out from you, Yoongi took it as his green light and began to bring the movement of his hands upwards, gently fondling your clothed breasts, which promptly made your body turned into jelly against him. You could only bury your head on his neck, letting him continue toying your chest. 
Your eyes shot open at the feel of him unclasping your bra. The touch of his palms meeting your bare breasts sent heat through you that instantly went south. You whimpered and hugged him close, burying your face further on his neck. 
“You okay?” He chuckled, not stopping but decreased the pacing of his hands. The angle now making it awkward due to your body pressing closer to him. 
“I’m just shy.” You said while still not moving from your position. 
“You don’t wanna continue? Cause I don’t mind.” He said as he moved one hand to soothe your back. 
“N-no, Yoongi I just… kinda just getting all insecure cause it’s the first time you’ll be seeing me and I’m just scared if I’d look weird to you.” 
“You’re perfect.” He told you and he meant it. 
“I haven’t done this in a while.” You said with a slight moping tone. 
“So do I.” He took your hands to pry them apart from him. He guided them to his chest where you could feel his heart beating rapidly. “Do you think I’m not nervous?”
You looked at him and couldn’t help but to smile. But when you looked down, you realized a growing bulge was present and that seemingly he was not only nervous, but excited as well. 
“You also seem excited…” You giggled. 
“Not exactly my fault now is it.” 
“It’s okay,” You looked up to the ceiling. “I may or may not be soaking through my panties now as well.” That earned a groan from him. 
“Do you want me to help?” He breathed out. His hands now holding your waist steadily, thumb grazing your underboob. “Or we could totally just makeout and it’s alright.”
“Yoongi.”
“Yeah?”
“Continue… please.”
He groaned once again before lifting both your top and bra at the same time. As the garments sat just above your chest, the view of your nipples perking out just for him had the man salivating. Slowly, he lifted you to his side and laid you down so you could rest on your back on the sofa. He bent down and proceeded to pepper your chest and breasts with soft feather-like kisses, almost as if you would break if he pressed harder. He looked up and felt his ego somewhat boosted with the scene of you biting your lips, whimpering. 
He kissed your right nipple and began to sensually nip and twirl his tongue around it, that was it for you. You fully moaned when his right hand pinched your left nipple and twisted it. You brought your hand to your mouth, trying to repress the arousing sound coming from your mouth from being too loud. 
“It’s just me.” He mumbled into your skin, one hand went to trace the line on your back. 
But that’s the problem. Yoongi himself was your main weakness. 
He continued to play with your twins, lapping the buds with his tongue, making sure he gave both of them the same treatment. Slowly his right hand traveled downwards, caressing your middle through your sweatpants. Your breath hitched. 
“Everything okay?” He asked again. 
“Y-yeah.” You managed to vocalize. 
“Can I take these off?” He said, tugging slightly at the band of your pants. 
You only nodded and he kissed your forehead. He proceeded to deliberately slide down your bottoms, leaving you with your exposed panties. 
Yoongi gulped at the sight of your damp underwear. A small patch of wet spot could be seen and he could not lie to himself and felt proud of his doings. He bent down and kissed your lips for a second before flashing a soft smile. 
“Can we continue in your room?” Before you answered, he followed. “I want you to feel comfy while I eat you out.” 
That sentence almost had you hollering.  
“Okay…” You breathed out heavily and took his hand, dragging him inside your bedroom. 
Just after he closed the door, for a split second you saw a smirk visible on his face, before he scooped you up in his arms. You gasped, and he quickly pecked your lips before gently laid you on the bed. He brought his right hand to caress your thigh softly, slowly moving upwards to your crotch area. You moaned instantly at the contact. 
His middle and ring finger moved up and down, petting your core through the cotton cloth. The pace slowly increasing, and so did the volume of your pleas. You could feel your body turning into jelly already when neither his fingers or lips had touched your naughty bits yet. 
Finally you felt one of his finger tugging and pulling your underwear. You gladly, almost too eagerly, helped him by wiggling out from it, as you watched him pulling it loose and dropped them to your floor. He pulled you slightly so you were close to the edge of your bed, and he bent down on his knees. He gaped at your glistening core, and he really was ogling for a hot minute, lost at his thoughts. 
“Stop staring at me like that.” You quickly clamped your legs together. 
“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t believe this.” He chuckled, hands on your thigh, meddling your legs back to spread out for him. “I haven’t done this in a while…”
“You’ve told me.” Your eyes searched for his. 
“No, I mean, I might be rusty… if it feels weird or if you wanna stop, we can stop anytime.”
You could see the nervousness and self-consciousness in him and it made you wanna love him even more. 
“I just wanna taste you so bad right now.” 
He hunched closer in between your legs and dived in. He licked a bit, tasting you in his tongue. At that moment he decided it was his favorite flavor. He licked a full strip your labia, before then letting his tongue danced around it, making out with your cunt. He tried to make a mental note on which part made your back arched, which side made you moan louder. Hoping the next time, if you would let him, he promised himself he would make you feel ten times better. 
A loud yelp came out from you when he slid in his middle finger. You bit your lips, feeling shaky. He carried on trusting you, slowly in and out, pacing increasing at the same time as his tongue on your clit. He then added his ring finger and you felt it effortlessly sliding into your sopping wet hole. The attack from both his tongue and fingers quickly trembled you down. You felt your stomach came into a knot and your insides clenched. 
“Y-Yoongi… I…”
You could not form a sentence and Yoongi seemed to be too immersed to respond your pleas as he kept his tempo. You were grasping onto the bedsheets, back arching towards him, and then the orgasm hit you. 
The image of Yoongi smirking with your slick trailing down his chin would now be forever embed on your brain. It would certainly be in your dreams for quite some time. 
“That was… okay, right?” 
“That was incredible.” You said through panting. 
The guy smiled and kissed the crown of your head. He pulled his t-shirt off in one go and kissed you once again. You broke off the kiss first, pulling him by the neck so he could crawl on the bed with you. Now with you under him, he then kissed your neck before sliding your cropped top over your head, making you fully bare before his eyes. 
“Beautiful.” Yoongi said in a low voice. 
The compliment flipped your stomach upside down. “How come I’m the only one completely naked…” 
Your comment earned a smile from him. “Would you help me then?” 
You blushed, but did not oblige. You didn’t waste any time and helped him out from his pants. 
“Wait.” 
He suddenly stopped mid through. His pants were already down to his knee area, and it couldn’t be helped that all your attention were now heading towards his massive bulge that wasn’t in any way shy behind his boxer brief. He stepped down the bed, finally taking off his pants fully. You could see him taking out something from his back pocket before he let the cloth fell down joining the rest of your clothings on the floor. 
“You came prepared.” You commented with a teasing smile after seeing the item he took out from his pants. 
Yoongi just looked at you with a hint of red decorated his cheeks. You found it extremely adorable that he was bashful about it. 
You took his hand and pulled him back with you on the bed. He put the condom on your bedside table, before dipping in to kiss you. It seemed like you both had found out that kissing each other was the best thing and you felt dumb for not doing it sooner. As he kissed you passionately, you were hesitant for a second, but you slowly brought your hand to feel up the swelling bump on his below. You swallowed his groans in the kiss as you continue to stroke up and down. Breaking the kiss, you mumbled something about wanting to return his favor, but Yoongi grabbed your wrist immediately, stopping you from taking off his boxer. 
“At this rate I’m going to cum in my pants so maybe next time, sweetheart.” He kissed your forehead.
When he free himself from his underwear, your jaw dropped along with it. Of course you were no saint, you had caught a glimpse of his groin area before when he wore that one gray sweatpants that you fancied. You were in fact suspecting that he was at least a little above average, but not this. He had completely proven you wrong. Quite frankly, you had never thought about how beautiful a male part could be until you saw his. 
You gulped your saliva and salivate the mesmerizing scene in front of you, watching as he ripped the condom pack with his teeth and rolled the rubber from his tip downwards. He positioned himself in between your legs, sliding his tip up and down on your entrance, which made you whimper instantly.
“Yoongi… please…” You pleaded.
“If it hurts even just the slightest bit, let me know, okay?” He said, caressing your hair. 
You only nodded and soon after you felt his tip entering you ever so gently. You moaned loudly and it seemed like the movement not only affect you, but Yoongi also, as you saw him closing his eyes shut, grunting along with you. He slid in very carefully, making sure you were adjusting well with his girth. When he reached a certain length, you yelped. 
“Did I hurt you?” He suddenly asked out of worry. 
“No… it just… it just feels very full.” You managed a smile to reassure him. 
“Okay.” He breathed out, combing his locks through his fingers. “Let me know when I can move.”
You touched his hand to catch his attention. He looked at you with a wary expression. “You can move, I’m not that fragile.” 
He muttered a stuttered “okay” before sliding himself deeper. He lunged deep and out slowly, making love to you passionately. He intertwined his fingers with yours, going on a soft tempo, as if he was trying to confess his feelings through, making sure you feel how sincere he was. You brought your hands to cup his face, then stroked his hair, before putting them over his shoulders to pull him close. Your lips met again in the middle, muffling your moans through the tongue lacing activity. His hands were cupping your breasts, fondling with them as your kisses went harsher and sloppier. 
And when he moved from your lips to kiss your chest, you bucked your hips against him, with your hands ruffling his hair as he tongue your nipple carelessly. His tempo began to distort and the knot in your stomach started to feel too much and you knew you were close. 
Not long after you came to release, he followed soon after the feeling of you clenching hard over his cock. The sound of both your heavy breaths filled the room. Yoongi once again dipped down to kiss you. Starting from your forehead, your nose, your cheek, and lastly your lips. You giggled in between every single one. He then got up to tie the ends of the condom, timidly walking towards your bathroom to where your bin was. When he was done, you were now lying to your sides, curving your legs in a fetal position.
Yoongi approached you and slowly cuddled you from behind. You automatically scooted closer to his body warmth. 
“This is oddly familiar.” He chuckled. 
You recalled the first time you spent the night at his place by accident, when you woke up with him cuddling you exactly like this. Minus the nakedness of course. 
You turned your body to face him. A huge smile was plastered on your face. “I hate you.”
“I’m sorry?!” He eyed you with an annoyed expression. 
“I’m so madly in love with you it’s insane!” You smacked his chest lightly.
“I’m sorry, I guess I was just afraid of moving too fast. I haven’t been in a relationship in a long time and I was worrying if I’d make you uncomfortable…” 
“I thought you had decided that you don’t like me or something… I was even jealous of Cookie when you kissed him!”
“I noticed.”
“You noticed?! And you chose to do nothing???” You huffed.
“You looked cute so I decided to leave you be.” He snickered. 
“You’re evil.” 
“You’re evil for wearing that extremely tight crop top today.” His eyes travelled down and up to your nude body.
“It was… on purpose.” You bit your lips. “I guess it worked? Haha?” 
He raised one of his eyebrows at you and smirked. “Give me five minutes and we can go again.”
“Oh my god??? Who are you?! Give me back my cute and shy Yoongi!” 
You squealed as he laughed and hugged you close. 
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” You said, followed by a loud smack of smooch to your cheek from him, then he flashed you his gummy smile. 
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Thank you for reading! 💎
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taglist: @yunaurlove @waitaminswife @yoongisababygoat @hazyjoon @callsignwidow @ai-des-blog-blog @jovanaprime @bangtanmisser7 @angelk0503
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My smut library, with love
🌷 possesive gf (jk x reader) by @letjungcoook7
🌷 streamer jk by @badbtssmut
🌷 press play! (jungkook x reader) by @jj-one
🌷 put on a show (jungkook x reader) by @dreamescapeswriting
🌷 my cam girl (jungkook x reader) by @btskitten7
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quite-simple · 8 hours
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Doubt || kth.
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Kim Taehyung x female!reader
Summary: Taehyung is an eccentric young musician working on a song that he believes will save him. Can it also save the woman he loves?
Genre: Greek Mythology AU, Orpheus AU, Fluff, Angst Word Count: 8,678 Rating: T Warnings: hunger and poverty; manipulation; major character death
Notes: Based on the story of Orpheus and Eurydice. Thanks to @daechwitatamic for beta-ing. Banner by @itaeewon.
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It’s so cold out that you can see your breath, a puff of pale steam that quickly disappears into the dull landscape around you. The clouds are starting to lighten, they’re less grey, less dense, and you can tell the sun’s still somewhere up there, at least. But gods, it’s almost mid-May and you can’t remember the last time you’d seen blue sky. Hell, you can’t remember the last time you’d seen the sun.
Growing up, you’d heard stories of the seasons changing on time. Tales of spring coming in late March, bringing rain and flowers and much-needed warmth; that fall would reliably start at the end of September, the land turning to shades of orange and red and yellow. Between that, days got warmer and longer, and then colder and shorter. It was a cycle, and it was predictable, and it was nice, and it was mundane.
That didn’t really happen anymore.
You tug your jacket closer around your body. It’s starting to wear thin and the zipper is broken. You’ll need to find a way to fix it when you get into the next town. There’s no way you’ll be able to afford a new one, but maybe you can trade for some lining and a new zipper. Though that means you’ll have to find something to trade… 
Good-paying jobs are hard to find, especially with the world’s economy in flux the way that it is. Most everyone is more focused on finding food and shelter, and people are much more willing to migrate to find work during the good season if they can. You’d been doing odd-jobs up and down the eastern seaboard for years now, as long as you could take care of yourself. Some cleaning here, accompanying someone to a different town there. You’d even done some childcare near the gulf when you’d been down south. 
Now, you’re following the railroad tracks north.
Eventually, you stumble upon a sleepy town somewhere south of the city you’re trying to get to. There aren’t that many buildings that you can really see, and most of them are still covered in snow. Snow’s piled up along the streets and under the windows–it’s almost touching the sills in some places. None of the buildings look to be taller than three stories. The town is small, but the square in the middle of town is surrounded by lit buildings. You’re freezing. First stop: find a bar or a hotel or an inn.
The bar isn’t hard to find, but it’s dark when you finally push through the door in a swirl of bitter wind and snow flurries. Every head in the bar turns to look as you enter. You slide into a table by the door, a little embarrassed but ultimately just happy to be out of the cold.
“You’re not from around here.” The man who approaches your table is tall and confident, and when he offers you a soft smile, you instantly feel more at ease. He pulls a small pad of paper out of his back pocket and slides into the booth across from you. “I’m Yoongi.”
You tell him your name, and he tells you what’s good on the menu before taking your order. Yoongi leaves you alone with a promise to check on you later to make sure you have a place to stay the night. You allow yourself to relax into the vinyl cushions of the booth, enjoying the atmosphere–significantly less tense now that Yoongi has welcomed you into the establishment–and the warmth of the fireplace across the room.
There’s a house band that sits in the corner playing some jazzy number that reminds you of one of the gulf cities you’d stayed in back when you were passing through the bayous of the south. The pianist is slight, a little too skinny, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he plays. He’s talented, remarkably so, and paired with the saxophone and the upright bass, the music they play is some of the best you’d heard in a very long time.
A plate clattering onto the table in front of you draws your attention from the band. A young man stands in front of you, honeyed eyes wide. He looks to be around your age, his dark hair pushed out of his eyes with a thick cloth headband. He has a kind energy, despite his sharp features, if not a little odd.
“Yoongi said you’re new in town,” he says finally, his voice a little deeper than you were expecting. “Do you have somewhere to stay? Are you going to be here long? You should stay with Yoongi and I.”
You sigh. The man is forward, that’s for sure. You’d been hoping to grab a hot meal here, rest a little, and move on. You’re close to the city–maybe a couple days of walking, less if you can hitch a ride with someone or sneak on the train. But you can tell that this place, and these people, is somewhere you could easily stay in.
You can’t let that happen.
Yoongi appears then, a glass of water in his hands. He places it on the table in front of you, nudging the man out of the way. “Don’t be a pest, Taehyung. Remember what I said about scaring away my customers?”
“Oh, so he’s like this with everyone?” You ask it playfully, but there’s a bit of real questioning in it. You get the sense that maybe this guy–this Taehyung–is a bit of an oddball. Not in a bad way, but you’d like to know what you’re dealing with.
The way Yoongi rolls his eyes tells you that yes, Taehyung is like this with everyone. “He tell you about his song yet?”
You raise your eyebrows. ��Oh, he’s a singer.”
Taehyung blushes, a light dusting of pink blossoming across his cheeks. “There’s this contest, and I… The prize is a year’s supply of soup.”
You hum. Any more, money isn’t really a great prize. Bartering is more or less how the economy runs. But soup? Any kind of food in that amount would make someone richer than even the wealthiest city dwellers.
Taehyung is certainly an intriguing fellow.
You can’t say at what point in the night Yoongi slipped away, or when Taehyung slipped into the booth across from you. But you can’t deny that--despite his way too forward introduction--his presence is comfortable.
“What brings you into town?” he asks as you take a bite of your sandwich, watching you expectantly as you chew.
“Job hunting,” you say simply, glancing in the direction of the band as they start to play again.
“What did you do before? Where are you from?”
You shrug. “Bit of everything.”
Taehyung hums and rests his chin in his hand. If he notices that you ignore his second question, he doesn’t mention it. “Hey, maybe Yoongi could give you a job? He’s always saying about needing someone else to wait tables. Apparently I’m ‘unreliable’ and ‘flighty’.” He makes a face, eyes widening almost comically as he wiggles his head.
Then, he sighs dramatically and watches the band for a moment before bursting into a fit of giggles. It’s a little dopey, but it’s endearing how his face scrunches up and he covers his mouth with his hand.
When he calms down, he leans on his hand. “Yoongi really isn’t that bad to work for. He’s just busy is all. He runs the bar, but he’s also station master over at the train station, and he delivers mail sometimes when the post office is short-staffed.”
“That’s… a lot of jobs.”
Taehyung shrugs. “He likes to stay busy.”
Things quiet down, then, and you listen to the band play as you finish your meal. Sometimes, Taehyung speaks, telling you a bit about his life and about the bar, but for the most part, he sits with you in silence. He nods along with the band, and every once in a while, he pulls out a small notebook to jot something down. Even though he isn’t talking as much, he seems happy. You get the sense that he’s just excited you aren’t ignoring him or shooing him away. 
When it’s time for the bar to close, Yoongi comes to collect Taehyung so they can get to work cleaning and closing the establishment.
“Wait for me?” Taehyung whispers to you as you stand from the booth. He tugs the scarf from around his neck and drapes it over yours. The striped fabric is a little thin, but you can feel his body heat radiating off it slightly. “I’ll meet you when we’re done. There’s a park down that way three blocks.” He points east. “It’s just across the street from my apartment. You can wait there if you want.”
He’s gone before you even confirm that you’d wait for him. 
“He’s a good kid,” Yoongi’s voice from behind you makes you jump. “He’s a little naive, but he’s got a big heart.” He holds the door open for you as you leave the bar. He nods at you. “I’ll see you later.”
The night is cold, but nowhere near as bitter as it had been a few nights before. The seasons are starting to change. This year, if you’re lucky, maybe it'll last the correct amount of time. 
You find the park easily, wandering around it for a few minutes before selecting a bench near the center fountain. It’s turned off to prevent the icy spray from getting whipped around in the wind, and you’re grateful. The last thing you need is to be cold and wet.
It’s a surprisingly nice night. The clouds have parted, if only slightly, and you can see stars in the breaks in the gloom. You tug your jacket around your body and wrap Taehyung’s scarf around your neck, closing your eyes and leaning back against the bench. It’s been so long since you’ve gotten to just relax.
You’d started out almost a month ago when the blizzard ended. The town you had been staying in had started to get too small, the people had started to get too friendly. It had all started to chafe at your brain. So you’d left and started walking, catching a ride where you could, always following the train tracks.
You don’t hear the footsteps behind you until a body sliding onto the bench beside you makes you jump.
“Sorry,” Taehyung apologizes, a soft, boxy smile on his lips. “We uh… we finished up early, and you looked so pretty just sitting here. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
It’s not a problem, and you tell him as much, placing a hand on his forearm as he leans sideways against the back of the bench. The flush springs to his cheeks almost immediately, his eyes flashing to where you’re touching him.
“So you’re a singer,” you ask, changing the subject. Taehyung nods sheepishly. “Sing something for me?”
“Oh! I uh… wouldn’t know what to sing.” Taehyung dismisses you with a wave of his hand.
You hum. “Oh come on. You can’t just say you’re working on this song and then not sing.”
He sighs. “I don’t know...”
“At least hum something for me?”
For a moment, he stays silent, and you think he’s going to tell you no again. Which would be fine. You would drop it. You’re curious, and you’re a little stubborn, but you know when to drop something. But when he opens his mouth, he sings.
The tune is beautiful and haunting, despite it being incredibly simple. It’s only a few notes that for the most part move up and down along the scale. You’re mesmerized, and you close your eyes, feeling a warmth spreading through your body. He stops suddenly, and the park grows eerily quiet.
“Taehyung, you’re amazing.”
His smile is brilliant, and he looks beautiful in what little moonlight there is. You don’t know why your stomach is doing flips.
“Oh hey you two,” Yoongi greets, suddenly in front of you. “Ready to go home?”
As it turns out, Taehyung and Yoongi live together. You walk across the street with the two men, pausing in front of a door between the two ground-floor businesses–a bookstore and an empty storefront. 
Yoongi slumps into the sofa, seemingly exhausted, while Taehyung disappears deeper into the apartment. He returns a few minutes later, changed into more comfortable clothes, carrying some blankets and a change of clothes for you, too. 
“You can use these,” he says, handing the bundle to you. Then, he turns to Yoongi. “It would be nice to be able to offer a job, you know…”
“It’s late. We’ll talk more later. It’s past my bedtime, and you kids have to be up early tomorrow. It’s a big day.”
“Wh-” Yoongi waves goodnight, and he’s gone before Taehyung can even finish his sentence.
A few moments pass in silence before Taehyung yawns, stretching his arms above his head. He encourages you to get comfortable and bids you goodnight then, apologizing for not having a proper bed for you to sleep in. His is small, he says, or he’d offer to share. But honestly, the couch doesn’t seem so bad. It looks soft, and it’s better than sleeping on a bench outside. He looks like he wants to leave, but he’s frozen in place.
“Thanks,” you tell him softly. “For everything. You’ve been nothing but kind to me. I appreciate it.”
“Of course.”
“Do you want your scarf back?” You unwind it from around your neck, holding it out slightly for him to take.
“Keep it.” He offers you a shy smile before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Goodnight!” He hurries away, turning off the light as he goes, leaving you standing in the middle of their living room alone and in the dark.
You hadn’t missed the bright blush on his cheeks, or the way your pulse had quickened at his touch.
-----
It’s a beautiful day. You were worried because the past few days, it had been sweltering hot. The kind of oppressive summer heat that saps your energy and makes you want to do nothing but lay in front of a fan all day. But it’s cooled off some, and there’s a nice breeze going. 
You sit on the bank of the river, just close enough to the water where you can feel it lapping at your bare feet, but not close enough to actually get wet. It’s serene sitting there, listening to the birds chirp in the trees and the ducks splashing around in the water. Very different from the seemingly constant chaos that is Yoongi’s bar. Even when it isn’t busy, it’s loud. And while you enjoy the atmosphere, you’re not used to constantly being around that many people. It takes a lot out of you.
Which is why you took the opportunity to come to the river just on the other side of the train tracks to take a break on your day off. Taehyung had followed you, because of course he had. But you don’t mind. You don’t feel the need to entertain him, to constantly be talking with him. You barely have to focus on him. It seems to be enough for him to just exist in each other’s company. It’s nice.
He has his head in your lap, laying perpendicular to you. One of his knees is bent and he has the other one raised and resting against his bent knee, creating a little table for himself as he scribbles in his notebook.
“What are you thinking?” you ask him, reaching down and brushing his hair out of his eyes. It’s grown longer. You wish he would let you give him a haircut.
“Music,” Tae responds simply, his attention flicking to you for the briefest of moments. You can see the playfulness in his eyes, even as he turns his focus back to his notebook. He’s determined to finish that song. “And how I want to marry you.”
He’s been playfully asking you since the second day. At this point, he says it so nonchalantly that you aren’t even phased anymore. You roll your eyes and poke him right in the middle of his forehead.
You brought a book--one of Yoongi’s, he doesn’t mind that you borrow it--and you read while he works, stealing glances at him subtly every once in a while. His concentration face is truly a sight to behold, all focused eyes and set jaw and furrowed brow. Sometimes, he catches you looking and flashes you a confused, boxy grin, which you return. You’re pretty sure he has no idea what he does to you.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks softly. When you look down at him, his full attention is on you, his notebook resting face-down against his chest. He fiddles with his pen.
You hum and lean back against the hill, letting the book fall to the ground gently beside you. “Sing me something?”
So he does. He sits up only to fall to the ground again to lay beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours. He sings of longing, of love lost, and of love yet to be. It’s beautiful and haunting and sad, but there’s a kind of hope in the song, too. When he’s done, he reaches out, hand grasping your own, and the two of you sit in silence for a long while.
Eventually, he shifts beside you and grabs his notebook from where it fell to the ground when he sat up. Smiling, you reach out and brush his hair off his forehead. He glances up at you, eyes sparkling with the reflection of the smile on his lips. His smile is unlike anything you’d ever seen. It’s innocent, and warm, and so unabashedly joyous that it makes you feel like nothing bad can ever happen if he was there.
You’ve never felt like that before.
You’ve been alone for so long--it’s been just you since your parents had passed in your early teens--you barely even recognize how much it sucks. You’ve gotten so used to being alone, you no longer even recognize that you’re lonely. For so long, you’ve forced yourself not to get close to anyone, have focused on taking care of yourself for so long, that you hadn’t even recognized your heart had grown cold. All you’d ever known was how to take care of yourself and get to the next day. And the next one. And the one after that.
You like the warmth he brings you. You like how he makes you feel: as if maybe you don’t have to go it alone. You like that he makes you feel happy.
And you have no idea what to do with that information.
It terrifies you a little. You’ve only known him for a few months, but it feels like you’ve known him for your entire life. 
“What are you thinking about?” Tae’s voice cuts through your thoughts. He reaches over and squeezes your hand, fingers slotting between yours. “You look like you're thinking hard about something.”
You hum. There’s no way you can tell him your exact thoughts, you can barely articulate them to yourself. It’s a lot, and you don’t want to scare him away. You want this--whatever this is--to last. So you sigh, and instead of telling him what you want to, you simply say, “Just thinking.”
“Ah.” He nods sagely. “Big thoughts. I get that.” For a moment, he’s quiet, toying with your fingers in the silence. “Can I tell you something?” All of a sudden, he seems nervous. You can feel the anxious energy practically radiating off him. He can’t seem to look you in the eye. His other hand clutches at his notebook.
“Yeah, of course.”
“I just…” Taehyung swallows hard before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “I know I can be a lot. I know I daydream a lot, and I get too into my songs, and I have trouble paying attention sometimes when you tell me things. I know I’m weird. So, I guess, just… thank you for wanting to spend time with me.”
You smile gently, feeling your heart soften even more at his vulnerability. “I like spending time with you, Tae,” you say earnestly. And you do. You’ve never enjoyed someone’s company as much as you enjoy his.
“I really do want to marry you,” he confesses softly, his eyes darting out to the river. “I know that’s dumb, but it’s true.”
Two months ago, you would have dismissed him--you had dismissed him--as just being a man looking for one thing. But now that you know Taehyung, well… things are different. “Let’s get through this winter, then we’ll talk.”
“Really?”
“You would have to promise me things, Tae. We both know how rough the world can be. I need to know you’re willing to weather whatever storms come this way.”
He nods eagerly. “I will. You know I will.”
You wrap your arms around him then and pull him to you, his arms immediately slotting around your waist. He’s warm, and despite the fact that it’s sweltering hot out, you’re certain you could stay wrapped up in his arms until you both turn to dust and scatter to the wind. 
“Tell me you’ll hold me forever. Tell me that things won’t change when the storms get bad. Promise we’ll stay with each other and it will always be like this.”
You feel him nod against you, feel him hold you tighter. “I will. All of it. More. I promise. It’ll always be like this. You and me.”
When you pull away, his dark eyes are warm and inviting, the small smile on his lips inviting, drawing you in until you’re connected. His kiss is soft, tender, and for a moment, he’s frozen, as if his brain short-circuited and he’s trying to reboot. But then he’s kissing you back, slow and measured. You want to memorize what he feels like in this moment, his hair tickling your face in the light breeze, his hands pressed into your lower back. 
His nose brushes against yours as you part. There’s a dusting of pink across his cheeks, and he has the goofiest, most awestruck smile. It makes your stomach do a flip seeing him like that. And in that moment, you know that this adorable man will be the death of you.
-----
You cringe as the door to the apartment slams shut behind you. The wind had kicked up over the past half-hour, and while the door needed some extra force to shut it, you had overestimated just how much extra. Thus, the slam. Normally, Yoongi would have yelled at you, but he’s working double duty at the station because of the storm, making sure that travelers are getting where they want to go in a safe and relatively timely manner.
If Taehyung heard the door slam, he doesn’t seem to care. Though, you doubt that he had heard it at all. Tae had entered a self-imposed sabbatical almost two weeks ago, attempting to finish his song. He seems to have placed an arbitrary deadline on it, and he’s determined to meet that goal.
“How’s it going?” you ask softly, hanging up your coat and scarf on the hook by the door. They were gifts from Yoongi at the start of the winter. Something to help you to survive if you’re going to keep working for him at the bar.
Taehyung doesn’t even look up from his notebook at the sound of your voice. He sits at the small piano in the corner of the living room, brows furrowed, staring at the pages of scribbles he had been working on for the past few days. He’d been in the same place when you’d left for the bar.
You nod, walking into the kitchen and pulling a glass down from the cabinet over the sink. “It’s starting to get bad out there,” you say absently, watching out the window as you fill the glass with water. And it is. You can see the wind blowing snow flurries perpendicular to the ground. Snowing sideways, your mom had called it.
You glance at the cupboards as you walk back into the living room, briefly opening up the refrigerator to check out the situation. “We need food,” you tell Taehyung as you sit the glass of water down beside his piano. “And we’re starting to run low on firewood.” Luckily, Yoongi had stocked the apartment with wood for the fireplace before the storm had gotten too bad, but those supplies are starting to dwindle now that he hardly has time to come home. 
“It’s right there,” he mumbles, and though you suspect he’s talking more to himself than to you, you can’t help but respond.
“What?”
“The melody. It’s right there. It’s like it’s just been… forgotten.” He scribbles something more down into his notebook. “That’s why the seasons are all messed up. But it’s right there, just out of reach. It won’t get better until we remember.”
“Then you’d better finish it quick.” You push his hair back and lean in, placing a delicate kiss to his forehead. He hums briefly and squeezes your hand. “I’m going to run out and get some firewood and maybe swing by the pantry to see if I can get some supplies to hold us over until Yoongi comes back.”
But he’s gone again, his attention back to his notebook and the 88 keys in front of him. You sigh and nod, returning to the hook by the door to grab your coat and scarf. You want to have faith in him. You want to believe he’s right, and that the song he’s working on can fix things.
“Okay, you finish it,” you tell him, knowing full well he isn’t paying attention. “I’ll be back soon.”
And so you step back out into the biting wind and freezing cold. You pull your coat tighter, flipping your collar up to attempt to shield your neck from the snow. The public pantry is further away, so you turn in that direction, going mostly on instinct because it’s nearly impossible to see with all the snow that’s falling. 
You walk for about 20 minutes before stopping. You should have reached the pantry already. But there’s a large open lot beside it. Yoongi said it was an old field for playing sports--an old football field, he had said, and a baseball field beside it. You know the field is to the left of the pantry, so you turn to the right and begin to walk again, the snow getting tougher to trudge through, and the visibility continues to worsen as you go. 
You’re confused. There’s no way you had gotten this far off-track. The town isn’t that difficult to navigate, and you should have come across some building by now, even if it isn’t the communal pantry. Instead, you’re still in the middle of a snow-covered field, the blizzard raging on around you. You turn around in an attempt to follow your steps back in the direction you came.
Unfortunately, your footprints are gone, already covered by the snow.
“You’re resourceful,” a voice behind you says, the howling of the wind calming as if commanded. 
You spin around, coming face to face with a young man. He looks to be Taehyung’s age, maybe slightly older, his dark hair neatly styled and combed back off his forehead. He wears a white collared shirt under a smartly tailored suit jacket and a woollen double-breasted coat, a pair of lined leather gloves on his hands.
“Are you lost, little songbird?” His voice is deep and warm, and you find yourself drawn to him, taking a few steps forward. At your silence, he smirks, and you can see the stars dancing in his eyes as dimples press into his cheeks. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”
“I was trying to get to the pantry,” you manage, taking another step forward. And then another. Until you’re standing directly in front of him.
“You’re going to freeze to death out here.” He pouts, reaching out to rub your arms, creating some friction and heat. His touch isn’t even direct, but you can feel the warmth in him, like he’s made of fire. “You’re going to the pantry? Why?”
“We’re running low on food.”
He hums and nods sagely. “That’s no good. Pretty little songbirds like you don’t deserve to suffer.”
You feel your cheeks heat at his words and pray that if he notices you’re flushed, he assumes it’s from the cold. You have no idea why he’s affecting you like this. Normally, you would walk away by now. But something about this man’s aura draws you in. 
“I’ve seen you around,” he says, adjusting the hat on your head. It’s Taehyung’s beanie. You borrowed it to keep your ears warm. “You have a good head on your shoulders. Smart. Resourceful. You’d do well as a manager. Have you ever thought of working in a factory or a warehouse?”
“No, I… I’ve never really been one to put down roots.” You have no idea why you’re telling him that.
“Shame. I think you’d be good at it. And it’s a good job, you know? Steady income. Guaranteed housing. Meal vouchers provided by the company.”
“Which company?”
“Mine.” He flashes you a wide smile, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. The sight of it warms you from the inside. “Think about it, okay? When you have nothing to lose, you’ll be welcome.” He digs into his pockets and pulls out a slip of paper. “Take the train to the end of the line. I’ll be waiting.”
With that, the snow and wind pick up so harshly you have to shield your face. When it calms down seconds later, you’re standing in front of the public pantry, and the man is gone.
-----
Two days pass, and you can’t get the beautiful man with the captivating aura out of your head. He hadn’t said much, but he was charismatic, and you couldn’t help but hang on his words. He had said you were smart and resourceful. No one had ever complimented you like that before. It threw you off, but you can’t help but admit that it had made your heart soar a little.
It was nice to feel wanted.
Taehyung is still working on his song when you walk into the living room in the morning. It seems like he never moved. He’s always sitting at the piano, staring at his notebook. Sometimes, he’ll move to the couch, but he never leaves the living room, never looks up from his notebook. 
You know his song is important, know he has to finish it to send it off, and truly, you know that when he does, it could save you all, even Yoongi. But at the same time, you have concerns. Things were so different in the summertime. It was supposed to be the two of you: birds of a feather. You were supposed to weather the storms together. 
And yet…
You sigh, looking into the cupboards to try to find something small. You’re starving. The pantry wasn’t able to help nearly as much as you hoped, and it’s hard trying to feed both you and Taehyung on the meagre leftovers in Yoongi’s cabinets. You hoped he would’ve been home by now to help--he always seemed to be able to help find food--but the storm hadn’t let up and he’s still out there making sure mail gets delivered and travelers arrive at their destinations safely.
“We’re going to need food again soon.” You say it loud enough that you know he can hear you, but whether it registers  or not, you have no idea. 
You watch him work, watch as he taps one of the piano keys repeatedly as he thinks, the sharp ‘tink tink tink’ of the note permeating the otherwise silent living room. After a moment, it becomes clear that he didn’t, in fact, heard you, and you feel the annoyance and hurt flare inside you.
You’re angry at yourself most of all. You could have left. You could have gone somewhere else, found a job--a good paying job where the owner wouldn’t forget to pay you because he’s out playing postmaster and barkeep and stationmaster all at the same time--found shelter and food and safety for the winter. But instead, you had followed your heart for once.
And look where that got you.
Your mind drifts once again to the mysterious stranger and his promises. You have no idea if he would keep them, but anything is better than starving to death. You want to stay--it almost physically hurts you to think of leaving--but you can’t ignore the ache in your stomach or the chill in your bones.
“Tae?” you try softly, walking into the living room and stopping in front of the piano. “Taehyung?” Your tone is sharp in an attempt to get his attention. But he doesn’t look up. He simply hums in a brief acknowledgement. “I’m going out.” The words leave your mouth before you even really know what you’re saying. “I don’t know when I’ll be back. Or if.”
He plays another note on the piano.
You turn away, not wanting him to see your heart breaking. As you grab your coat off the hook on the wall, the paper the mysterious stranger had given you flutters to the ground from your pocket. You pick it up and examine it one last time. 
It’s gold, but it doesn’t glitter. The writing on it is neat, if a little smudged, as though placed there by an old-fashioned stamper and inkpad.
No charge. 
One-way.
VIP.
Your fingers tremble as you stuff the ticket back into your pocket. With one last glance at Taehyung scribbling in his notebook, hair falling into his eyes despite his headband, eyes and jaw set in concentration, you’re gone.
-----
The factory floor is quiet. The only sounds come from the machines. You sit at your workstation, your eyes strained from watching the repetitiveness of the assembly line. You tried to talk to some of your coworkers the other day. Or was it yesterday? Last week? You can’t remember. 
It doesn’t matter. None of them answered you, anyway.
Outside, the shift whistle blows, and you stretch your arms above your head, hearing your joints pop and crack from sitting still for the past however many hours. Your shifts always seem to fly, you can hardly remember what you do during them.
However, despite your fast shifts, you aren’t really sure what it is you make. The factory is huge, encompassing at least five huge buildings the lengths of city blocks. The parts you’re responsible for are small, unidentifiable, made out of metal and a bit of plastic. You don’t even know what they are, let alone what they’re used for. But thousands of them pass by you daily as you make sure they sit upright on the conveyor.
You find yourself wandering through the park just outside of your apartment complex. You aren’t quite sure why, but the park always seemed to draw you in. You love the view from the bench in front of the fountain. The way you can see the buildings peeking out over the tops of the trees makes you feel sentimental in the weirdest way, though you can’t quite put your finger on it.
Along the path through the park blooms flowers in the most brilliant shade of red you’ve ever seen. Sometimes, if you look at them too long, you’re overwhelmed by a sense of melancholy, but you have no idea why. You’ve never seen flowers like that in your life. 
There are times where, if you close your eyes, you can almost see yourself somewhere warm and bright. Someone is always at your side. You can never quite make out their face, only how your heart speeds up when they look at you. You’d been in the city for months–you can’t remember how many exactly–and these daydreams don’t look like they happen in the city. Maybe they’re premonitions, or some sort of deja vu.
You hope so. Daydream you always seems so happy.
You’re sitting on your bench in the park after your shift one day when you hear someone speak far off behind you. It makes you jump slightly. You haven’t heard someone speak in… the factory foreman had said something recently, but you hadn’t really paid attention to what he said. So when the voice behind you speaks again and comes closer, you turn to investigate.
The man that approaches you is handsome, if not a little eccentric. His shirt is half-tucked into his pants, and the sweater he’s wearing is too big and very thin. His dark hair bounces as he lightly jogs in your direction. As he gets closer, his smile widens, his dark eyes sparkling with joy. 
He speaks again, baritone voice soft and full of emotion. It’s a name he’s calling. Is that… your name? How does he know your name?
“I can’t believe I found you!” he says excitedly, his hands capturing your own as soon as he’s close enough. “Yoongi said it could take forever, but I’ve only been down here a few days. I… I can’t believe it’s you!”
He pulls you to him then, arms wrapping around your waist tightly. You’re confused, but you find yourself hugging him back. He feels skinny--too skinny--and his face is a little sunken-in and dirty, like he hasn’t eaten in weeks. There’s something about him that’s familiar, but…
“I’m sorry,” you say softly when he pulls away. His eyes dart around your face as he holds you at arm’s length. It’s almost like he’s inspecting you. “I… Do I know you?”
For a moment, his eyes light up and he laughs, a gentle guffaw that pulls at your heartstrings in a way that sets your mind–and pulse–racing. But then, it seems, he realizes you aren’t joking. You watch, unable to do anything as his heart breaks right in front of your eyes.
The way he whispers your name, halfway between a prayer and a plea, convinces you. Even if you don’t know him, he certainly knows you. No one sounds that broken over a complete stranger. 
“Who…”  you try tentatively. There’s no way this won’t be awkward. But you want to know more about him. You’re oddly drawn to him, like you’d known him in some other life. “Who are you?”
“Taehyung.” His voice is barely audible. His fingers twitch, and you get the sense that he wants to pull you in for a hug again and it’s taking a tremendous effort to not.
Why does his name sound so familiar? You’re certain you’ve never seen him before.
“I can’t leave without you.” He sounds determined, confident, like he’d walked halfway through hell to find you. And, well… perhaps he sort of had.
But that’s crazy. You don’t know him.
“Come home with me,” the man–Taehyung–pleads, reaching for your hand. You let him take it.
“I can’t.” For some reason, it makes you sad. You know it in your gut. Even if you do know him, there’s no way you can leave the city. 
“You can, though. I know the way. We just have to go back the way I came down. Yoongi told me about it. I don’t know how he knew, but-”
“You’re not from around here, are you, boy?” You have no idea when the man in front of you appeared. The air smells of ash and sulfur, and all of a sudden, it’s hot.
Immediately, you freeze, and you find yourself squeezing Taehyung’s hand. You haven’t seen the man since you’d signed the contract, but down here, he had a reputation for being no-nonsense. When he’s in a good mood, Namjoon looks harmless. But when he’s angry, he’s downright terrifying. And judging by his set jaw and hard eyes, he’s pretty angry. Beside you, Taehyung stiffens, standing up straighter.
“I don’t know who the hell you are, but the little songbird is a law-abiding citizen. You should go back to where you belong.”
“Taehyung, you should go,” you whisper, dropping his hand and taking a step away.
He turns to you, dark eyes sad when they meet yours. “I’m not leaving without you.”
Namjoon laughs, loud and boisterous and dark. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” he asks, taking a step forward. “Don’t you think she would have left already if she could? She signed on the dotted line. She’s here forever now.”
“What?” Taehyung’s attention darts back and forth between you and Namjoon. “That’s not true. Is it?”
You sigh, avoiding his eyes. “I did what I had to.”
Namjoon’s jaw clenches, and he motions for you to head back into the factory. “Heed my advice, boy. It would be in your best interest to leave. I won’t ask twice.”
A swirl of shadow. The smell of sulfur and ash. And Namjoon is gone.
It takes a few moments, but eventually, the tension leaves your body. Beside you, Taehyung visibly relaxes before he lowers himself to the ground in a defeated huff. For a second, you watch him, unsure of what to do. You still don’t remember him, but he’d come a long way, and for that, you feel bad.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize, voice soft. 
“No, it’s… it’s not your fault.” For the briefest moments, he stares down at his hands, but then he looks at you, dark eyes big and sad. “What happened?”
You shrug, kick at a rock on the ground and watch it skitter across the pavement before you crouch next to him. “I don’t remember,” you admit sadly. “But there’s this contract. I signed it. I… He made such pretty promises.”
You don’t remember what they were, exactly, but you remember the way Namjoon’s eyes glistened as he spoke, the way his dimple pressed into his cheek as he promised you whatever it took to get you here.
Taehyung hums, his head hanging low. “This is my fault.”
Your heart breaks at the sadness in his voice, at how disappointed in himself he sounds. Part of you wants to comfort him, to tell him that no, it’s not his fault. He did his best. This is just a shitty situation and a powerful man chose you to manipulate and deceive. But you don’t. Because you don’t know how true any of that is. 
Something inside of you says that it’s not as true as you’d like.
He grows quiet. All you hear is the factories around you. The next shift has started. You should be in there with them. You wonder if anyone has even noticed that you’re missing. Absently, Taehyung picks at the grass, and something stirs in the back of your mind. A memory, though it feels almost like it belongs to someone else. Taehyung and you laying in the grass on the bank of a river, the sound of a train in the distance.
“Can I show you something?” he asks, and silently, you nod.
He clears his throat and begins to quietly sing. His voice is beautiful, a delicate baritone that nimbly, delicately touches on each note. He’s in full control, eyes closed, hands folded in his lap, a master at work showing you the melody that lives in his mind.
You can’t deny that the song is beautiful, a haunting acapella that moves you the way a psalm might move a priest. You feel it in your heart more than you hear it, his voice so soft that you really aren’t even sure that you’re hearing it properly at all. It wraps you up, gentle cocoon around your broken heart, and you feel it trying to heal what it finds there. You find something swelling within you. Something akin to pride.
You have no idea why you react this way. But you want to. You want to remember.
“That’s beautiful,” you tell Taehyung when he’s finished. And for a second, he looks at you, a hardness in his eyes that you can only describe as determination.
He leans in, lips gently brushing your forehead, before he stands. “Come with me,” he says cryptically, offering you his hand.
You take it without question.
-----
You’re uneasy. The path is dark--you can barely see Taehyung walking in front of you. He’s just far enough that you can’t reach out and touch him, but close enough that you can easily follow behind. But the soft dirt below your feet muffles your steps as you go, so it’s too quiet. Thus, your unease. 
The path is barely wide enough for a person to pass through, and it slopes upward fairly steeply. You have no idea how long you’ve been walking, only that the longer you walk, the lighter you feel. You hadn’t noticed it in the Underworld, but the fog that seems to surround your thoughts and memories parts more and more the closer to the surface you get. By now, you remember almost everything--Yoongi, the bar, your past, everything. 
But most of all, you remember Taehyung. And you remember fully why you left.
You want to call him, to tell him that you forgive him, to tell him that you’re so proud of him for finally finishing his song. But you don’t dare. You refuse to do anything to jeopardize your future. Namjoon has given you one chance. You doubt he’d give you a second.
The stones on either side of the path are damp and oddly shaped, and they’re difficult to use as hand-holds when the path gets too steep. But you hang on anyway because the other option is to stumble and fall flat on your face.
In front of you, Taehyung trudges on. You can tell he isn’t happy about the situation just from the visible tension in his back, but there isn’t anything he can do about it. He walks quickly, but not too quick so as not to lose you. His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his jacket, his broad shoulders set against the chill of the underground path. 
“Go. Before I change my mind,” Namjoon says, turning his back on you.
You have no idea what Taehyung said to change the man’s mind. Maybe it was his persistence. Maybe you caught Namjoon at a good time. Maybe he just liked Tae’s song. A combination of all of the above and more. None of it at all. But you can’t believe what you’re hearing.
“How?” Taehyung asks, his grip on your hand tightening.
Namjoon sighs. “You’ll walk. You know the way well enough to lead, don’t you?” He sounds exhausted. “You lead. She’ll follow. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your eyes on the road ahead. If you don’t, well… maybe it really was her time to go.”
“It’s a trick.” Taehyung sounds angry.
“It’s a trial. One you’ll do well to pass if you want to make it out of here alive.” Namjoon rubs his eyes. “You test my patience. Leave. Or regret it.”
You stumble as the path slopes upwards more steeply, your hand reaching out for the rock. You must have made some sort of noise, because Taehyung pauses. You can see him fighting himself, refusing to turn around.  
“Are you okay?” he calls back. When you don’t answer, he grunts but continues walking. “I hope you’re still back there,” he mumbles. 
That’s the hardest part about this trek. You can hear him talking to himself. Sometimes, he hums his song, and you can hear the soft echoes off the stones in the passage. But mostly, the long stretches of silence are interrupted by Taehyung’s whispers to himself. 
“Only a little further.”
“I hope you’re still back there.”
“Gods, I’m so stupid.”
“Please still be back there.”
Suddenly up ahead, you can see a speck of something bright. It’s only a pin-prick in size, but it grows steadily the more you climb. You find yourself pushing yourself to walk faster, attempting to match Taehyung’s speed as he practically runs up the slope.
And then he stops, and you stop, almost walking straight into his back. The mouth of the cave is just a large hole in the ground, like some gaping maw prepared to swallow someone whole. You recognize the area vaguely as being along the railroad tracks just past the station. 
You breathe deeply. The air is still a little frigid, but it has that smell to it, like it could turn warm at any moment. You try to remember what month it was. March? Maybe April? You had gotten on the train in early September. Has it really been six months?
Before you know it, Taehyung’s arms are around you, catching you mid-step and forcing you to take a step backward. You hold him, allowing yourself to get lost in him for a moment. He’s warm, and he smells like dirt and wood and lavender. 
“I missed you,” he says, pulling you impossibly closer. 
Pulling away slightly, your hands find his face, cupping his jaw tenderly. “I’m sorry,” you say earnestly.
Tae hums, offering you a wide, boxy smile. “You’re safe now.” His hands grip your shirt at your waist. “Plus, I’m the one that should be apologizing. I let you down. I got too focused on my song, I forgot why I was in a hurry to finish it in the first place.”
A tug on your ankle draws your attention, and you try to glance down subtly to see what’s happening. But Taehyung’s grip on you is tight, and he notices you shifting. His eyes fall to your feet, one of which is firmly planted on the frozen ground of the mortal world. Your other foot is still in the soft dirt of the path from the Underworld.
Shadows are already starting to creep up your ankle.
“No,” Taehyung says firmly, trying to tug you forward. “No we made it. That’s not fair.”
You shake your head, your foot not budging. “Apparently not.” The shadows slowly grow, engulfing more of your leg.
Taehyung pulls you to him, then, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist. “I’ll come find you again. I’ll sing my song for Namjoon. He’ll have to let you go.”
You sigh, your hands balling in the fabric of his jacket. “I love you,” you whisper. And you do. You realized it while climbing out of the Underworld. He’s the one who had been in  your daydreams down below, he had been the happiness you had been missing.
He kisses you, then, tenderly but desperately. You let yourself melt into it, one hand finding purchase in his hair. You want to remember him, to commit this moment to your memory so that even when you do inevitably forget him, you’ll remember how he made you feel. The happiness, the joy, the love. Even the frustration. Because of course, that was part of it. You love him so much that you did get frustrated with him. 
Your neck is cold, and you know it’s the shadows, swirling and trying to pull you back down. Taehyung’s eyes are wide when he pulls away, and they glisten in the midday sun. He blinks quickly, and you can tell he’s trying not to cry.
“Wait for me?” he asks softly, brushing your hair back and kissing you lightly on the forehead.
“I always will.”
Taehyung offers you a sad smile just before the shadows overtake you. In a second, he’s standing alone, the smell of ash and sulfur in the air.
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darkjimxn · 1 day
Text
Chapter 5: Dodgeball
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Summary: Elitist Academy is exactly what it sounds like: an academy that focuses on teaching students from elite classes of the magic community. When Y/N is thrown into the academy to learn alongside 8 men, she realises she’ll have to learn to work with them, whether she likes it or not.
Pairing: Reader x OT7 (Choose Your Own)
Genre: Magic School au, mystery, angst
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: domestic abuse, additional warnings might be added as story progresses
A/N: Exams are finally over, so here's an update. Hope you enjoy!
Taglist: @florabloomgirly @shawtylilsalty
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Your gaze stayed fixed on the man before you, hunched over as he cradled his bruised jaw with one hand. Was this what Principal Park had meant when he had said the Academy wasn’t entirely safe? You had assumed that he had been referring to secret abductions in the middle of the night or underlying schemes being formulated in the shadows. 
Not outright attacks being done in the centre of the main hall while the morning’s sunlight still shone brightly. 
You paused as the sound of expensive dress shoes striking against the marble floor echoed around the hall, each step slow and confident to reveal someone entering through the same doors the guy a few metres away from you had stumbled through just a few seconds earlier. 
You would have ignored whoever it was and walked over to the guy still crouched on the floor, but at the last second your gaze caught onto a few strands of dark purple, causing your head to snap towards him in shock.
Jimin’s brother paused at the doorway, scanning the main hall nonchalantly with those familiar occult red eyes. Even without the dimly lit atmosphere and dark shadows he seemed just as menacing as he had last night. The only difference was that now you could just barely pick up on an underlying anger lurking behind the nonchalant facade. 
His gaze flickered to you for a moment, taking in your standing form beside the Tree of Life, before it ultimately fell on the guy on the floor. 
At the sight of Jimin’s brother the guy pushed himself off the ground quickly with wide eyes and hands hovering upwards in a sign of surrender. 
Wait… was he the one that was doing this?
As if to answer your question, Jimin’s brother walked over to him and grabbed his collar with a gloved hand, dragging him with it until he slammed him against the nearest wall. 
The main hall began to fill with students from the dining hall, all of whom seemed curious, and clearly entertained, by the current state of events. They all made sure to give the two a wide area of space though, evidently making sure they wouldn’t get involved. 
Typical. 
You didn’t know if you wanted to get involved either. There was that feeling back in your chest, the one of elation whenever you watched men fight each other; whenever they decided to inflict pain on their own rather than on you. You knew it was wrong to feel that way, your hate didn’t blind you that much, but you still couldn’t seem to help yourself.
Come on, don’t be a monster Y/N, you thought with a sigh. 
You forced yourself to take a step towards the two, opening your mouth to reluctantly stop whatever was going on, but then paused as you suddenly recognised who Jimin’s brother had pinned to the wall. 
Wasn’t that the guy that had bullied Seokjin yesterday? What was his name… Jihoon?
“Look man,” Jihoon said, hands still up in surrender as Jimin’s brother held his collar, “I don’t understand what I did! Please just let me go, I’ll do whatever you want!”
“Oh?” Jimin’s brother grinned, a devilish glint in his eyes that did not match his calm tone, “not so tough now, are we?”
His gaze dropped to the bruise on Jihoon’s jaw, which was now turning an ugly shade of purple, “that’s disappointing, I was expecting a good fight.”
You watched Jihoon cower a bit when his gaze raised to meet his once again, “you want me to leave you alone?”
“Y-yes,” Jihoon answered, so quickly that you almost felt bad for him. Jimin’s brother nodded slowly, clearly relishing in his fear.
“Okay, but only on one condition.”
Jimin’s brother leaned forward to whisper something in his ear, but to your surprise, Jihoon seemed to freak out at the action. His head immediately jerked backwards, causing it to hit against the wall behind him roughly. A pained groan escaped his lips. 
You narrowed your gaze at the excessive reaction. You knew Jihoon was a coward the second you had caught him preying on Seokjin, but still… Jimin’s brother had only leaned forward. Was Jihoon really that scared of him?
Jimin’s brother ignored the reaction, waiting for him to stop groaning over his head, before he leaned forward once again and whispered something near his ear. You felt everyone strain their ears to try and listen to his words, but they were spoken much too low for anyone, including you, to hear. 
His words elicited another reaction from Jihoon, but this time it was more of a shocked response than a frightened one. 
“You what?!” He said incredulously, his hands dropping to his sides.
But one withering glare from Jimin’s brother suddenly had him nodding instantly, “wait- okay! Okay, I swear!”
“Great,” Jimin’s brother grinned with fake amusement for a moment before it dropped.
“Now get lost.”
Jihoon scrambled away from him the second he was freed, half running through the front doors of the academy. It was almost comical the way Hannah, the blonde foreigner that had been with him yesterday, ran after him while calling his name. The two definitely made for an interesting pair, you’ll give them that much. 
You looked back at Jimin’s brother, only to find him already walking out of the hall without another word. His expression was far from the amused cocky bastard from last night, this time filled with hidden rage that you questioned. You distantly wondered what Jihoon could have possibly done to make him so angry. 
“Cheonsa,” a voice behind you stated suddenly.
You turned around to find an unfamiliar girl standing next to you, dressed in the same Elitist Academy uniform as your own. Similar to Hannah she was also a foreigner, but her dark brown hair was pulled into short braids under her maroon cap while her light brown skin stood out against her cream-coloured collar. 
“Sorry, what?” You asked, unsure of what she had just said.
While the students that had stayed to watch the spectacle began making their way to their classes, she just continued to stand beside you and stare at the door in which Jimin’s brother had disappeared behind, “the guy that just practically beat up Jihoon, his name is Park Cheonsa.”
“Cheonsa?” You repeated, tilting your head slightly, “that’s an… odd name.”
The word itself translated to ‘angel,’ but you’d never actually heard anyone use it as a name before. The irony of someone like him being named angel was also not lost on you. 
“He’s the principal’s son, which is why he can get away with acting out like that. I’d be careful around him if I were you.”
You almost snorted, but held yourself back at the last minute so that you didn’t come off as rude. Everyone in this academy had rich parents that allowed them to act however they wanted, it was practically a requirement in order to get into the school. 
Still, it was sweet of her to give you a warning anyway.
You gave her a smile, “thanks for the warning… I guess. What’s your name?”
“Oh right!” She breathed with an embarrassed smile, “I almost forgot, I’m Amelia!”
“Y/N,” you offered, “it’s nice to meet you, Amelia.”
“It’s nice to meet you too Y/N, you’re really nice,” she said, then added shyly, “it’s been kind of hard to find nice people in this Academy.”
You regarded her for a moment, contemplating her words. She must have been from one of the more lower class families. In a place where everyone was rich, the students treated each other based on how rich their families were. So while Amelia was far from worrying about when her next meal would be, she and the students like her were probably taking the brunt of the bullying in this place. 
It was a sad truth, one that had you sympathising with her. 
“People can be real jerks, I totally get it,” you agreed, offering her another smile, “but if it means anything, you can always consider me a friend. Only if you’d like to, of course.”
To your surprise, Amelia frowned, “that’s very kind of you, but… if you’re seen with me, won’t they start targeting you as well? I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”
You couldn’t help but smile, a light chuckle escaping your lips before you could stop yourself, “you don’t have to worry about that, I’ll be fine.”
You were sure word must have gotten out by now about who you were. Whether it was regarding your ability or the identity of your parents, either piece of information would be more than enough to protect you from any kind of bullying. 
“Besides,” you continued, giving her a dramatic frown, “I don’t even have any friends. You’re really going to let me die of loneliness?”
Amelia just laughed, shaking her head at you, “I didn’t realise your life was on the line here. In that case, how can I say no?”
With a smile, you checked the time on your phone, noticing that your class was about to start soon, “I have class right now, so I need to get going. Maybe we can meet up during break?”
“Really?” Amelia said, almost in surprise, as her expression brightened at the offer, “of course, I would love to!” 
You nodded, “great, I’ll see you later in that case.”
You started to turn around, feeling bad that you couldn’t stay and talk to her for longer since you knew being late to class wasn’t going to do your grades any favours, but was stopped when Amelia suddenly placed her hand on your shoulder at the last second, as if she had needed to work up the courage to do it. 
“Hey, listen…” She started hesitantly, “before you go, I just wanted you to know that I’ll stand up for you if people start treating you badly because of me. I’m not the type to just watch a friend suffer silently.”
You smiled at her thoughtfulness. Obviously it was too early to tell, but you had a feeling that Amelia was going to become a pretty close friend after today. Or maybe that was just something you wanted to happen and you were projecting. Either way, you had no issues with getting closer to the sweet girl standing before you. 
-
-
-
“You’re joking right?”
Namjoon stared at you incredulously, his eyes narrowing in that way that always seemed to make whoever his target was at that moment feel like they had a baseball for a brain. Hell, it used to make you feel like the dumbest person on Earth until you finally stopped letting it get to you. 
You were sitting in the same History of Magic 101 class as yesterday, except the size of the class had evidently decreased. Instead, the lecture hall was now only filled with 8 other students, male students, aside from yourself, just as Principal Park had explained. 
“The ability to control magic was completely absent during the Mesozoic era,” Namjoon continued to insist, crossing his arms over his chest. 
You sat back in your chair, mimicking his action with a raised brow, “tell that to the dinosaur bones that were recently discovered to have traces of magic in them.”
He scoffed, “humans are the only species with the ability to influence magic, so how could this ability have existed when humans didn’t?” 
Making sure to keep your gaze on Namjoon, you focused on your peripheral vision to study Ms. Kari, who was standing on the podium. To your delight, you noticed her hands placed frustratedly on her hips as she gave both you and Namjoon a look mixed with exhaustion and irritation. 
“And how do you know dinosaurs couldn’t control magic back then?” You questioned, focusing back on the man sitting a few seats away from you to goad him further, “it would explain the traces of magic found in their bones.”
Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Cheonsa throw his head back in a muted groan before propping himself forward on his hands with a sigh. The rest of the class looked back and forth between the two of you, whether invested in the debate or confused by it you didn’t know. 
“The magic in their bones could have come from anywhere!” He argued, “it could have been absorbed from their surroundings or simply remnants of life magic from when they were still alive! Today’s animals lack the ability to influence magic, therefore it’s likely that the dinosaurs were the same.”
“Not necessarily,” you shot back, “perhaps dinosaurs became extinct due to their ability to influence magic while animals today survive only because they cannot? You ever heard of selective pressures, Namjoon?”
“Then what about-”
“This is the fourth time you both have broken into an argument after I asked a simple question to the class,” Ms. Kari finally spoke, interrupting Namjoon with a scowl, “I understand that you two seem to already have extensive knowledge on the class material, but these outbursts are disrupting my teaching.”
“If they don’t stop, I will have to start taking more severe action,” she threatened, making sure to look both you and Namjoon in the eye, “is that understood?”
Namjoon gave you one last look before turning to face Ms. Kari once again, “yes, Ms. Kari.”
“It won’t happen again,” you added.
But you lied.
It was definitely going to happen again. 
If Principal Park wasn’t going to switch your cohort, then you were just going to have to take matters into your own hands. See, if you were to keep causing disruptions in class, Ms. Kari would eventually have to take it up with the Principal. And since Principal Park would have to take action, but can’t kick you out of the school, he would have no other choice but to switch your class. He’d probably switch you to private tutoring, which you were no stranger to. 
All you had to do was argue with Namjoon a few times per class, which was beyond easy considering Namjoon’s unlimited ego and his constant need to prove himself right all the time. 
If everything went as planned you’d be out of here by the end of the week. 
But until then, you’d have to survive your classes the way they were at the moment. 
So you did.
The rest of the class went smoothly for the most part, aside from a couple more small arguments you started between yourself and Namjoon, until the bell rang and everyone began making their way to the next class.
You walked into the women’s dressing room, making sure to lock it before beginning to change out of your uniform. Your next class was physical education, which required you to slip into your academy-issued gym clothes. The gym uniform consisted of a white, fitted short-sleeve t-shirt that had been tailored to your exact specifications and loose red shorts that ended just below your mid-thigh. You decided to also pull on the matching red zip-up sweater, with the gold emblem printed on the lapel unlike the formal uniform, wishing that it would protect you from more than just a chilly breeze. 
You fixed your hair up into a ponytail as you walked out of the dressing room and started making your way out of the academy. The physical education class was to be held in the field in front of the school, so you stepped onto the grass reluctantly while scanning the area. 
The guys had already arrived, each of them wearing the same uniform you were while lounging around or just casually chatting with one another as they waited for the Professor to arrive. Some had opted to wear the sweater while others had chosen to discard theirs haphazardly at the edge of the field. 
You chose to stand off to the side, unable to stop yourself from sulking a bit at not having anyone to talk to. It sucked to be in a class full of men, but you reminded yourself that you just had to wait it out for one week. Then, hopefully, your plan would grant you some form of peace.
Too in your thoughts, you didn’t notice Yoongi had walked up to you until he was standing right beside you with his arms crossed over his chest. He stood for a moment, completely unnoticed by you until he suddenly spoke. 
“Stop that.”
You turned to him, gaze unintentionally falling on the black patch covering his left eye. It came as a surprise to you that he had approached you and started up a conversation considering he didn’t seem like the type to enjoy talking to others. 
“Stop what?” You replied, turning your face away to study the field once again. 
“You’re practically burning holes through everyone’s head with your glare,” he commented, “stop it, it’s annoying.”
You scoffed. What was up with this guy and always trying to tell you what to do? Maybe Jungkook was right and he really was some creep that was into that or something.
“If it bothers you so much, you can always just go away,” you said.
You could feel his gaze boring into the side of your head, making you shift uncomfortably before you turned to glare at him. He only titled his head slightly.
“You know,” he started, “Namjoon told us about your obvious hate towards our gender. Care to explain the reasoning behind such strong feelings?”
“No.”
He narrowed his eye, opening his mouth to probably prod you further, but to your relief you noticed the Professor stepping onto the field. 
He was a tall guy, maybe one of the tallest men you’d ever seen, and dressed in a dark grey tracksuit and black dress shoes. The zip of his jacket was pulled down halfway to reveal a white collared shirt and a neatly-made maroon tie. Everything about him seemed neat. His dark brown hair was trimmed and brushed tidily to the side while his gleaming black framed glasses sat on the bridge of his nose.
Without another glance towards Yoongi, you made your way towards the Professor alongside the other guys. You all formed a ring around him, waiting for him to start the class.
“This is Physical Education 101,” he said gruffly, “I’m Professor Son, but you will only refer to me as sir. Is that understood?”
“Yes sir!” You all exclaimed, and you couldn’t help but feel like you had joined the military.
“Now I know what most of your old high school Phys Ed classes must have looked like,” he said, eyeing each and every one of you, “they were seen as a break from studying, usually a period to waste time and have fun.”
“But from now on you can forget those days, because moving forward this class will take everything out of you. It will be merciless, just like the real world, so you’ll learn to suck it up, and hopefully, by the end of it, you’ll make something of yourselves.”
Mr. Son rested a hand over his hip as the other stroked his chin in thought. 
“Since today’s your first day, I’ve decided we’ll play a game of dodgeball,” he said. Then, as if a thought just occurred to him, he suddenly began to laugh, “hope you survive enough for your next class.”
There was something… scary about his laugh. While Cheonsa’s laugh had sounded like a warning, his just sounded cruel. But you were only playing dodgeball, how bad could it be?
When he finally let his laugh subside, Mr. Son waved a hand around, “now get into two teams, you’re old enough to do it on your own.”
At his words, everyone hurried to place themselves into a group as quickly as possible. Mr. Son was clearly one of the mean teachers, and no one wanted to get on the bad side of a teacher that already had it out for you. 
Since none of the guys really knew each other that well, the groups formed pretty much based on how close to each other everyone was standing. In a matter of seconds, groups of four students had formed on either side of you.
The only issue was that you had been standing mostly in the middle of the two, making you hesitate for a moment. With the groups already being equal, and you standing directly in the middle of them, you didn’t know which one you were meant to go into. But under Mr. Son’s scrutinising eye, you quickly shuffled over to the group on the right, barely paying attention to who was in that team. 
You unintentionally ended up standing next to Jungkook, who gave you a grin. He was one of the guys who had decided to discard the zip-up sweater and instead wore only the white, short-sleeve shirt with his red shorts. Under the sunlight you could make out an athletic, but toned, body, the thin material doing a poor job of hiding his prominent muscles. 
“You have a good eye, Y/N,” he said as Mr. Son turned away from the groups, “you’ve skillfully chosen the winning team, congratulations.”
Your gaze strayed from him to study the rest of the group. It was annoying that you had ended up in the same group as Namjoon, Jimin, and Yoongi, and of course Jungkook. But then again, joining the other group would have meant being teammates with Taehyung, Hoseok, Seokjin, and Cheonsa, who were equally annoying. Basically it was a lose-lose situation either way. 
To your left Hoseok, who was on the other team, snorted, but his expression was humorous, “sorry, what was that? Did you say the losing team? Because if so you’d be right.”
“In your dreams maybe,” Jungkook laughed, only for Mr. Son to roll his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, leave the trash talking for the actual game,” he said as he brought out his wand and directed it towards the centre of the field. A neat line of dodgeballs appeared from thin air, bright red and soft-looking under the sun.
“Though we’ll see how much you’ll feel like talking soon enough. Now get in position.”
The two teams immediately separated, walking to either side of the field before crouching over the white line outlining its edge. You opted to crouch beside Jimin, who gave you a quick thumbs up before refocusing on the dodgeballs in the centre of the field. 
Even though you didn’t care much about winning a stupid game of dodgeball, you couldn’t help but study the other team anyway. Hoseok seemed the most into it as he called out suggestions to the rest of his team for reaching the dodgeballs before everyone else, while Cheonsa just rolled his eyes at the effort. Beside him Taehyung seemed just as apathetic, but he seemed to at least be a little less apparent about it. Seokjin, on the other hand, seemed like he wanted to be anywhere except here. 
The difference in attitude between Hoseok and his team was almost laughable. 
The nine of you watched Professor Son walk alongside the sidelines of the field until he paused beside the line of dodgeballs. He brought out his phone, seemingly checking something, before he faced you all once again. 
“The game begins at the sound of the whistle,” he announced, earning him a few nods. 
“Three,” he began to count, “two”
“One.”
Mr. Son suddenly brought his wand upwards, flicking his wrist so that it rounded into a circle in the air. Not even half a second later the sound of a shrill whistle cut through the silence, as clearly as if someone had blown into one right beside your ear. 
“Begin!”
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CALM AFTER THE STORM |BTS OT7 X READER| HYBRID AU (M)
{Chapter Eight – Nothing Matters, Only You}
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Pairing: OT7 BTS!HYBRID X FEM!HUMAN READER
Kim Namjoon: Black Mackenzie Valley Alpha wolf
Kim Soekjin: White Alpha Lion
Min Yoongi: White Alpha Jaguar
Jung Hosoek: Alpha Snow Leopard
Park Jimin: Alpha Albino Cobra
Kim Taehyung: Alpha White/ Bleached Tiger
Jeon Jungkook: Alpha Black Panther
Reader: Heaven Valentino Human
Status: Ongoing
RATED (M) FOR MATURE
words: 5.0k!
WARNING: EVENTUAL SMUT, BLOOD GORE, DETAILED GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION, ABUSE (ALL FORMS), PROFANITY, VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, CHARACTER DEATH(MINOR), SADOMASOCHISM ACTS, MENTIONS OF BDSM, ETC...
CHAPTER WARNING: just fluff and slight angst
Previous Next
MATERIALIST
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Heaven's POV
It’s been a smooth ride for the past few days. Ever since the boys blended in with my other brothers and the staff, things have been going great. It's heartwarming to see everyone getting along so well.
Today was a significant day for us as it marked the start of our training sessions. I was bursting with excitement, eagerly anticipating the progress we'd make. The goal is for them to grow into the fierce yet compassionate predators they were born to be.
This morning, I decided to start our day early, much to the dismay of Yoongi. Anyone who knows him would understand how much he values his beauty sleep. I almost got scratched for daring to disturb his slumber. It's a known fact that he detests being woken up, except by me. There's something special about our bond that allows me to rouse him from his sleep or cuddle with him for extended periods.
However, today seemed to be a bit of a mix-up for Yoongi. Mistaking me for Jungkook, he was caught off guard when I accompanied the younger one to wake him up. Jungkook is known for his mischievous nature, especially when it comes to teasing his older brothers like Yoongi. The look on Yoongi’s face was priceless when he realized it was me and not Jungkook who was trying to wake him up.
The sight of Yoongi's confusion and Jungkook’s mischievous grin nearly drove me to laughter, despite the seriousness of the situation. It was a moment that perfectly encapsulated the unique dynamics within our little family. Yoongi glaring at me, Jungkook stifling his laughter, and me trying to maintain a serious facade while inwardly cracking up.
The sun had barely begun to rise, casting a soft golden hue over the backyard where my unsuspecting group of sleepy, pajama-clad boys stood. I couldn't help but smile as I looked at their disheveled appearances, the remnants of sleep still heavy in their eyes. It was going to be a challenge to get them up and moving, but I was determined to show them some tough love and kickstart their day with a bang.
I cleared my throat, trying to stifle a giggle as their groggy expressions turned into scowls at being awoken so early.
"Alright, listen up, boys," I announced, trying to sound authoritative despite the amusement bubbling inside me.
"You're probably wondering why I dragged you out here at the crack of dawn."
Their eyes widened slightly, the first signs of curiosity peeking through their exhaustion.
"Well, today marks the beginning of our training regimen. My brothers will be taking the lead as your instructors, with some additional experts joining us later on."
They stared at me as if I had completely lost my mind, but it wasn't long before the realization set in. Panic ensued as they scrambled to shake off their sleep-induced fog and mentally prepare for the day ahead.
I couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of their frantic movements, a mix of amusement and fond exasperation washing over me.
As they finally began to gather, still half-asleep and disheveled, I couldn't resist a teasing remark.
"Come on, guys, let's try to look less like a pack of zombies and more like aspiring warriors, shall we? Get yourselves in formation now."
Their movements halted at my loud directive, freezing in place like guilty pups caught in the act. I couldn't help but shake my head at their antics, a mix of amusement and exasperation tugging at my lips.
"Hey, Taehyung, what do you think you're doing to poor Jungkook over there?" I called out, unable to contain my laughter at the sight of Taehyung playfully tugging on Jungkook's hair.
Jungkook shot me a mock pleading look, while Taehyung flashed a mischievous grin.
"Come on, noona, you know I'm innocent here. He started it by stepping on me!" Taehyung protested, feigning innocence with an exaggerated pout.
Jungkook rolled his eyes dramatically, trying to wriggle free from Taehyung's playful grasp.
"Don't listen to him, noona! He's just trying to save face. It was all Jin Hyung's fault; he pushed me first!" Jungkook interjected, pointing an accusing finger at Jin.
Jin raised his hands in defense, a mock look of innocence on his face.
"I only pushed him because Hoseok jabbed me in the ribs!" Jin protested, trying to shift the blame to the unsuspecting Hoseok.
And just like that, they were off, each boy pointing fingers and deflecting blame onto the next with playful banter and mock outrage.
I couldn't help but shake my head at the chaos unfolding before me, a mix of fond exasperation and amusement bubbling up inside me. It was going to be a long day indeed, but I wouldn't have it any other way with this crazy, lovable bunch of crackheads.
~Two Hours Later~
As the dust settled from the earlier chaos, my focus turned toward channeling the boys' newly found energy and determination. The moments of conflict and resistance had dissipated into the calm resolve that now emanated from their eyes.
With each of them fresh and cleansed, I could see a shift in their demeanor as they stood before me, listening intently to my instructions for the day. They seemed eager, yet unsure of what lay ahead, a mix of curiosity and determination etched onto their faces.
I took a few moments to outline our plan for the day, making sure to emphasize the importance of easing into our training session. The boys nodded in agreement, their expressions serious and focused.
"As we start off today, we'll take it easy with some warm-up exercises, theory lessons, guidelines, and practice rounds," I began, my voice firm but encouraging. "Remember, the key is to be prepared and observant in combat. Let your enemy make the first move, learn from their actions, and use it to your advantage. Their strengths could also reveal their weaknesses, just as yours could."
I paused occasionally to ensure that they were following along, gauging their understanding through their attentive expressions and occasional questions. It was important to me that they not only memorized the techniques but truly grasped the underlying principles that would guide them in their training.
As we waited for my brothers to join us, I continued to impart wisdom and strategies that I had learned over the years. I shared anecdotes from my own experiences, illustrating the importance of patience, strategy, and adaptability in combat.
The boys absorbed the information like sponges, eager to learn and improve their skills. It was clear that they were taking this training session seriously, eager to prove themselves and demonstrate their progress.
I could sense a camaraderie forming among them, a shared sense of purpose and determination that united them in their quest for mastery.
It was a satisfying sight, seeing them grow and evolve before my eyes. I knew that with dedication, perseverance, and a willingness to learn, they would continue to improve and excel in their training. And I was grateful to be a part of their journey, guiding them on the path to becoming skilled warriors in their own right.
It had been a long day waiting for my brothers to show up, and my impatience was growing by the minute. I mean, where were they? It was unlike them to be this late without a good reason. I was starting to stew in my own frustration, imagining all the things I would say to them when they finally arrived.
But just as I was about to unleash my anger, there they were, striding in as if they owned the place. Typical. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at their nonchalant attitude. I tried to keep my composure, putting on a fake smile to hide my irritation.
I couldn't resist a snarky remark, “Nice of you guys to finally join us.” I knew it would get under their skin, and sure enough, they smirked in response. My brothers always knew how to push my buttons, and they seemed to take great pleasure in it.
Dante, ever the instigator, didn't miss a beat, teasing me about my murderous thoughts. “I know you were plotting our deaths in your head,” he said with a chuckle. I couldn't help but give him a playful shove, my irritation momentarily forgotten.
Andre, the voice of reason as always, intervened before things could escalate further. “Enough, you two. Let's get started, shall we?” he said, and we all nodded in agreement.
As we began planning our training session, I couldn't help but feel grateful for my brothers. Sure, they had a knack for getting on my nerves, but deep down, I knew they always had my back. We worked well together, each of us bringing our own strengths to the table.
As we went through the training grounds, discussing strategies and giving each other pointers, I couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie. Despite our differences and occasional squabbles, we were a team, united by our shared goals and unwavering bond as siblings.
In the end, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, I could always count on my brothers to be by my side, ready to support and push me to be the best version of myself. And for that, I was grateful.
The day goes on as we warm up and prepare ourselves for the practice rounds. It's a routine we're all familiar with by now, but there's always a sense of anticipation in the air. Every practice session is a chance to improve, to get a little bit better, and to bond as a team.
Marcus, the second eldest, comes up to me. Marcus is usually a subtle and reserved kind of guy. Yeah, he does make a few jokes here and there, but not as chatty as Dante and Andre. He's the kind of guy who listens more than he speaks, but when he does say something, it's usually worth hearing.
“Hey sis, you good?” He asks, a tinge of his Italian accent slipping in and out. I can tell there's something on his mind, probably something weighing heavy on his heart.
“Yeah, I'm alright, and how are you holding up, after….” I don't finish, knowing it's a very prickly topic for him. Marcus met this girl last fall, and he immediately fell in love with her. It was so sudden, so unexpected, and yet he was sure she was the one.
How that happened, I don't know. What surprised me is that he didn't even try to do a background check on her, despite us continuously telling him to. We were worried, we were concerned, but Marcus was adamant. He refused and said he trusted her and that she was just an ordinary girl.
We could have easily done it ourselves, but we couldn't disrespect Marcus. He was always happy, and whenever he would come back from meeting her, he always had this goofy smile on his face like a kid on Christmas day. It was infectious, his happiness, his joy, his faith in this girl he barely knew.
I still remember the day he introduced her to us. She was beautiful, no doubt about that, but there was something in her eyes, something in the way she smiled that didn't sit right with me. I couldn't put my finger on it then, but now looking back, I wish I had trusted my instincts.
But Marcus, oh Marcus, he was smitten. He was blind to any doubts, any suspicions, any warning signs. He was in love, head over heels, and nothing could shake that belief he had in her.
Marcus is like a fortress, Guarded, tough, and practically untouchable. He's not the type to let just anyone in, you’ve got to earn his trust.
But then along comes this woman, and suddenly, all his walls come crashing down. It's like he's under some kind of spell or something. He's completely head over heels for her. But that's until she betrayed him.
Even though Marcus tries to play it cool, you can see right through him,
“I'm alright,” he says in that calm, collected tone of his. That’s his way of saying, "back off, don't push it."
Trust me, you do not want to see Marcus when he's angry. It's like trying to calm a storm, impossible and dangerous.
As Andre swaggered into the room with his shorts and no shirt, I couldn't help but cringe a little. But then Namjoon sauntered in, following his lead, and suddenly my ovaries were in overdrive. Namjoon was a sight to behold - tall, muscular, and just a tad underfed due to malnutrition. Thankfully, he was now looking healthier than ever, unlike those first few days when he couldn't keep anything down.
His confidence exuded an air of nonchalance as he strode into the arena, commanding attention without even trying. I found myself staring, completely captivated by his presence, until Marcus nudged me out of my daze.
"Hey, if you keep ogling with your mouth wide open, you'll catch flies," Marcus teased, earning a playful swat on the shoulder from me in response.
Turning back to Namjoon, I watched as he engaged with Andre, going over the basics of the training regimen. Seeing him so focused and dedicated only added to his charm, making it hard for me to look away. His determination was palpable, and it stirred something within me.
As they continued their discussion, I couldn't help but admire the way Namjoon absorbed every detail, his eyes focused and his body language exuding confidence. It was clear that he was committed to mastering the skills we were teaching him, and it was inspiring to witness.
It was quite interesting watching the friendship between Namjoon and Andre grow closer. They seemed to have this natural connection, always engaging in deep conversations and sharing their thoughts on various topics.
Namjoon and Andre both possessed exceptional leadership qualities and high IQ levels, making them a formidable duo. Whenever Andre visited, he would often seek out Namjoon, eager to engage in what they called "intellectual talks". From discussions on philosophy to challenging each other's viewpoints, their conversations were always thought-provoking.
I decided to put Namjoon's intelligence to the test and had him take an IQ test. I was truly impressed by the high score he achieved, showcasing his sharp intellect and analytical skills. It was no wonder that he and Andre bonded over their shared intellectual curiosity and thirst for knowledge.
But despite their impressive qualities, both Namjoon and Andre had a quirky and playful side to them. They were both self-proclaimed "dorks" and had a knack for cracking jokes and lightening the mood whenever they were together. It was refreshing to see them embrace their silly side and not take themselves too seriously.
"Okay, listen up everybody," Andre began, commanding the attention of the group.
"You guys are going to learn what I like to call The Massive Bs: Block Before Bite. This technique will teach you how to protect yourself before combat. Block before bite, to put it simply, is to avoid getting hit whilst learning your opponent's fighting technique. It might seem simple, but it's quite challenging and for you to master this technique, it requires a significant amount of toleration and resistance."
As Andre continued to explain the intricacies of the technique, the boys nodded in understanding, eager to put his teachings into practice. It was moments like these that showcased the bond not only between Namjoon and Andre but the rest of the group. Their shared passion for learning and growth brought them together, creating a unique camaraderie that was truly special to witness.
So, Namjoon was the first to be called forward with Andre leading the training session and started demonstrating the techniques, physically showing Namjoon the ropes and tricks. It was impressive how quickly Namjoon and the others picked up the techniques. They took turns practicing, and I was amazed that they were able to grasp it within just a few hours. In contrast, it had taken me a couple of days to fully master the technique myself.
Witnessing their progress left me in awe. It was inspiring to see what they were capable of achieving in such a short amount of time. It made me excited for the training ahead. I realized that it might not be as daunting as I had initially thought.
As we wrapped up our first training session, I could see that the boys were exhausted. It was clear that the training had pushed them to their limits, but they persevered and gave it their all. I couldn't help but admire their determination and work ethic. It was evident that my brothers knew how to push someone to their physical limits and help them grow stronger.
Reflecting on the day, I felt a mix of emotions - pride in their progress, amazement at their abilities, and anticipation for what was to come in our training journey. Despite the challenges that lay ahead, I was confident that we were in good hands and that together, we would be able to conquer whatever obstacles came our way.
Looking ahead, I felt a sense of excitement and motivation. I knew that with hard work, dedication, and the support of my brothers, we would be able to achieve great things. This first training session had been eye-opening, and I was ready to tackle whatever challenges came our way in the future.
I took the elevator up to my floor, exhausted after a long day. All I could think of was a hot shower to wash away the grim of sweat and dirt. As I drew closer to my door  a familiar voice calling out my name stopped me in my tracks.
"Heaven!"
I turned around to see Jin. He was standing a few feet away, looking hesitant but determined.
"Hey Jin, what's up?" I said, leaning against the wall in the hallway.
Jin shuffled his feet nervously before finally speaking up. "Is it okay if I could use the kitchen?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his fingers twisting together.
I raised an eyebrow in confusion. "You want to use the kitchen?" I repeated, trying to understand his sudden request.
He took a deep breath before opening up to me, his words pouring out in a rush.
"Yes, I've never told you this, but I enjoy cooking. Before I was kidnapped by those men who put me in that auction where you saved us, my owner was an elderly woman. She treated me like her grandson and taught me everything I know about cooking and baking. She had a passion for trying new recipes and she passed that love on to me. But when she passed away, her grandsons threw me out of the house, and that's how I ended up in that horrible situation."
Honestly, I was surprised when Jin opened up to me about his past so quickly. It felt like a moment of genuine connection and trust between us.
I feel a mix of emotions knowing that he trusted me enough to share something so personal and troubling. But it also brought me happiness to think that he found some solace in confiding in me.
I made a silent promise to myself that I would always be there for him and the rest of the boys. I wanted them to feel safe and supported, to not have to relive any of their painful memories if they didn't want to.
As I listened to Jin speak, I couldn't help but admire his strength and resilience. It must have taken a lot for him to confront his past and share it with me. I wanted to make sure he knew how proud I was of him.
"I'm glad you told me about your past Jin," I said, my voice filled with sincerity. "You're incredibly strong for facing it head-on. I know there may be days when you feel the weight of your responsibilities as the oldest member of your pack, but please remember that you've already done so much for them. And I can confidently tell you, they all see and appreciate that."
I had noticed the moments when Jin's usual overly confident demeanor faltered, when his eyes betrayed a pain he tried to hide. It was clear that the burden of being the oldest weighed heavily on him.
I recalled how Andre once struggled with similar feelings of duty and responsibility. We had all sat down with him, reassured him that it was okay to show vulnerability, and reminded him that we were a family that supported each other no matter what.
I hoped my words had the same effect on Jin, that he felt a sense of belonging and understanding among us. I wanted him to know that he wasn't alone in his struggles and that we were here to lift him up when he needed it.
I was grateful for Jin's trust and vowed to always be there for him and the boys.
As I see Jin's face light up with relief at my words, I can't help but feel a surge of affection towards him. He's always been so caring and thoughtful towards everyone around him, it's only fair that he receives the same in return.
"Really?" He asks excitedly.
"Of course, and also you don't need my permission to use anything. Just go for it and knock yourself out," I say with a playful punch to his arm, eliciting a genuine laugh from him. His laughter is contagious, and soon enough, we're both chuckling like a couple of old friends reminiscing about good times.
I watch him as he nods in understanding, his expression softening with gratitude. Jin has always been one to wear his heart on his sleeve, and it warms my own heart to know that he trusts me enough to confide in me.
"Okay Jin, I'm glad we had this talk. Let me go shower, and you go do you in the kitchen, also could you please tell the young ones to go shower," I say, already mentally preparing myself for the inevitable struggle of convincing Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook to clean up. It's always a challenge with those three, but their antics never fail to bring a smile to my face.
Speaking of Jimin, trying to get him to take a bath is like wrangling a cat - quite literally, considering he's a snake hybrid. But just like any creature of habit, he resists the idea of cleanliness with all his feline stubbornness.
Jin lets out a snort of amusement, fully aware of the impending battle ahead before heading off to the kitchen to prepare something for us.
With a sigh and a shake of my head, I turn back towards my room, ready to wash away the day's worries and thoughts with a nice, hot shower. The sound of water cascading down in the bathroom soothes my mind as I let the warmth seep into my bones, washing away any lingering tension.
As I step out of the shower, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, I know that no matter what challenges may come our way, as long as we have each other's backs, we can weather any storm that comes our way.
Jin's smile and laughter echo in my mind, a constant reminder of the strength and warmth of our growing bond.
3rd Person's POV
Everyone gathered in the cozy kitchen, their stomachs growling in anticipation as the mouthwatering aroma of Jin's cooking wafted through the air. The room was abuzz with chatter and excitement, the energy palpable as they eagerly awaited the feast that was about to be served.
Jin had outdone himself, with a spread that could rival even the fanciest of restaurants. From succulent stuffed chicken to gourmet delicacies that looked straight out of a magazine, the dishes lined the kitchen counter in a tempting display. And let's not forget about the desserts - they were a work of art in themselves, guaranteed to satisfy even the sweetest tooth.
But despite the impressive array of dishes before them, Heaven knew all too well that once her brothers and hybrids dug in, it would all disappear in a flash. They had a knack for devouring everything in sight, leaving no crumb behind. It was a wonder they had never entered a food-eating contest with their insatiable appetites.
As Jin put the finishing touches on the last dish, the boys eagerly gathered around, their eyes lighting up with anticipation. They were like a pack of hungry wolves, ready to pounce on their prey at any moment. But Jin had other plans.
"Before you beasts attack, let's show some manners, shall we?" Jin teased, a playful glint in his eye. "Heaven gets first dibs. We all know she's the only one who won't inhale her food in two seconds flat."
The boys grumbled half-heartedly, but they knew better than to argue with Jin. His cooking was non-negotiable, and they dared not risk missing out on his culinary creations. With a mock bow, Heaven stepped forward, her mouth watering at the thought of finally digging in.
She filled her plate with a reasonable portion, not wanting to overdo it and risk feeling like a beached whale afterward. It was a delicate balance - wanting to savor every bite while also trying to keep up with the bottomless pits that were her companions. But she was determined to enjoy every morsel, even if it meant fending off her brothers' attempts to steal a bite.
Just as Heaven is about to turn around and tell them to get their food, they all rush in like a pack of wolves getting as much food as they can.
"I'm surrounded by a bunch of amateurs," she says, shaking her head in disbelief. Dinner goes well as they all happily converse, telling embarrassing stories about each other.
When Jay walks in looking feverish. The once cheery mood vanishes in an instant as everyone's attention turns to him.
"Ms Valentino, we have a problem," he announces with a sense of urgency in his voice that immediately puts everyone on edge.
"What is it?" Heaven asks, her usually calm demeanor now replaced with a sense of seriousness that rarely graces her expression when her loved ones are around.
"Choi Woobin has gone rogue," Jay begins, his words hanging heavily in the air as everyone processes the gravity of the situation.
And just when things couldn't get any worse, Jay drops another bombshell that sends a chill down Heaven's spine.
"He managed to escape from prison and he's plotting revenge on you, but not just you. He somehow found out about the guys and is working with Jeong-sin, Min-Soo- or should I say Black Eagle's younger brother - to get revenge," he says, each word dripping with the weight of the impending threat.
Heaven feels her blood start to boil at the mention of her beloved hybrids being put in danger once again. The mere thought of anyone laying a finger on them ignites a fire within her that is unmatched.
"These guys just don't know when to quit, do they?" Heaven's tone drips with a mixture of frustration and determination as she makes it clear that she will not stand idly by while her loved ones are threatened.
With a steely gaze and a resolve as hard as steel, Heaven knows that she must act swiftly and decisively to protect those she holds dear. The safety of her hybrids, her family, is paramount, and she will stop at nothing to ensure that they remain unharmed.
The storm may be brewing on the horizon, but Heaven is ready to weather it with all the strength and courage she possesses.
She surveyed the room, her mixed emotions bubbling beneath the surface as she looked at the faces of her hybrids. Despite their stoic expressions, she could sense the fear lingering in their eyes, a subtle tremor betraying their unease. In that moment, she made a silent vow to herself and to them, a promise etched in her heart and soul.
"I won't let you be afraid. I'll always protect you," she whispered softly, her voice carrying a determination that seemed to resonate in the air around them.
With resolve etched on her face, she rose from her seat, exchanging a knowing glance with her brothers who understood the unspoken command. Jay, ever faithful, trailed behind her as she made her way out of the room, the weight of her mission heavy in the air.
As she prepared to confront the looming threat that had plagued their existence, she knew the risks involved. There was no certainty that she would return unscathed, but such thoughts were fleeting in the face of her unwavering dedication.
I have to put an end to this once and for all. She thought, her mind focused on the task ahead.
Her determination burned brightly, a fierce flame driving her forward as she pledged silently to herself.
I will fight for you with every ounce of my being, even if it means laying down my life. She affirmed, her conviction unwavering.
The love she held for her hybrids fueled her resolve, a fierce protectiveness surging within her veins.
With each step she took towards the impending confrontation, she carried with her the weight of her promise, a solemn oath to safeguard those who depended on her. The echoes of her whispered vow lingered in the air, a testament to the depth of her devotion to those she held dear.
As she embraced the uncertainty of the coming battle, her heart remained steadfast in its commitment to shield her boys from harm. In that pivotal moment, she found strength in her unwavering bond with her hybrids, a force that drove her forward into the unknown with unwavering resolve.
For her, there was no greater purpose than ensuring the safety and happiness of those she cherished above all else, even if it meant braving the darkest of paths. And with that unshakeable resolve guiding her, she stepped into the unknown, ready to face whatever lay ahead in the name of love and protection.
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Hey there!
I'm thrilled to share another chapter with you, filled with fluff and a tinge of angst. I really enjoyed writing this one, diving deeper into the private interactions Heaven is having with the boys. Those moments really add layers to the story, don't you think?
And let's talk about Jin - oh, what a character! I had so much fun exploring his personality a bit more in this chapter. He's definitely the quirkiest and funniest person around. I just want to tuck his cute confident ass in my pocket. He's just so precious!
I can't wait for him to return from the military. More Jin content is definitely needed.
Thank you so much for reading and being a part of this journey. Your support means the world to me. And hey, don't forget to vote and comment if you enjoyed this chapter. Your feedback keeps me going!
Sending you lots of love,
Your quirky AUTHOR-NIM 😆
Borahae Army 💜
TAGLIST OPEN!
TAGLIST: @strxwbloody , @strawblueberrys , @taetaeheart22 , @canarystwin , @drenix004, @ghostlyworld, @loumin908, @rinkud, @nikkiordonez12, @taekritimin123, @danielle143, @//mnguyeeen7(still can't seem to tag you)
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kooloveys · 15 hours
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HELP FIND THIS FIC!! 🎀
I’m looking for this fic where reader is a princess who’s ‘fallen’ into jungkooks world and jungkook has a daughter, they see reader hanging off a sign while driving and take her to their house + one of the other members (I forgot sorry!) to look after her. Reader is looking for her prince jimin (got separated when they fell into this world) but jungkook thinks she’s a crazy princess cosplayer or something, jungkook has a partner but he and reader get heated and then he lashes out. He yells at reader abt jimin and how she can’t run away w him and Fall in love if she’s onyl known him for such a short time blah blah blah. In the end jungkook shows up to the other members house to apologize to reader but she already found and left with prince jimin,
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wintaerbaer · 2 months
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bottle up old love (jjk) (m)
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summary: Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.
pairing: Jungkook x Reader
rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)
genre: exes to lovers, the holy trinity of angst/smut/fluff
word count: 4.6k (this was supposed to be a drabble 💀)
prompt: JK + exes to lovers + "I'm sorry" + "I hate you" + "Don't fucking touch me" + "Leave" (for @btsborahaee <3)
warnings: language, a short harassment scene at the beginning (nothing too intense), explicit content including: unprotected sex (DO NOT), fingering, praise kink, biting, marking, spanking, cum eating (sort of?), big cawk soft dom jk, cowgirl (yeehaw), creampie, cockwarming, i think that's all but this also wasn't supposed to be too smutty so clearly idk what's going on lol
MASTERLIST
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“Don’t fucking touch me!”
You spit the words at the man in front of you, pushing him back as he tries to make another grab at your arm.
“Why do you gotta be like that?” Seungcheol whines. “I thought we were having fun.”
“You and I have very different ideas of fun.” You take a step backwards towards your building. Somewhere down the sidewalk, footsteps clatter against the pavement.
“C’mon.” He matches your movement, reaches for you again. “Invite me up. You enjoyed the last time, didn’t you? I told you that was just a warm-up.”
The building’s brick wall is closer than you thought, and you bang your shoulder against it as you try to sidestep him. “Last time you didn’t follow me to a bar I didn’t even invite you to. How did you know where I was anyway?”
“Let me come up, and I’ll tell you,” he rumbles with a flicker of his eyebrows. He has you fully backed up against the wall now, and you press against the muscle of his chest to no avail.
“Stop!” you shout before he’s ripped away from you so suddenly that you’re left blinking in confusion, huddled against the brick.
There’s a thud–the sound of a fist hitting flesh–and a yelp before Seungcheol is reeling back with his hands clutching his nose. Blood seeps out from beneath his fingers, black even under the glow of the streetlamps.
“What the fuck?” he shrieks, and it’s only then that you take a proper look at your savior, looking every bit like he’s stepped straight out of the shadows with his dark hair, ebony clothes, and deep brown eyes.
And a lead weight drops into your stomach as you recognize him.
Jungkook sets himself between you and Seungcheol, looming over the latter as he continues to cover his face, whining. “I’m giving you ten seconds to get out of here.”
“Who the fuck are you?!”
“Ten,” Jungkook growls, taking a step in Seungcheol’s direction. “Nine.”
Seungcheol straightens–clearly a last-ditch attempt to look intimidating. Spitting blood onto the concrete, he peers at you over Jungkook’s shoulder. “This isn’t over, bitch.”
Then he spins and takes off running down the street.
Your hands grip your elbows. It may be a balmy summer night, but you’re shivering where you stand, unsure whether you’re more affected by Seungcheol’s behavior or the ghost who’s unexpectedly in front of you.
“Are you okay?” he quietly asks, gaze fixed on your face. You stare at your shoes and give him a brisk nod as a response before turning away, punching in your building code, and walking through the front door.
He follows closely, slipping in behind you and trailing a few feet. You let him for a little while, guiding him through the modest lobby and up the first flight of stairs. But when you’re halfway up the second stairwell–almost to your floor–you pause on the landing, spinning his way.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
His eyes are gentle, sincere. “Making sure you get in safely.”
“There’s no need for that,” you assert. “I’m already in my building. There’s a keypad. I’m good.”
“The keypad does almost nothing. I followed you in no problem.”
“So I should be worried about you then?”
He flushes, the tips of his ears going pink. “Please just let me see you inside.”
You want to argue back, want to shout at him and make a scene, but you know it’s no use. Know that he’s stubborn as a bull and will get what he wants one way or another.
It’s how he broke up with you after all.
You say nothing, only hustle up the last set of steps and down the dimly-lit hallway until you’re in front of your door, Jungkook tailing you the whole time with his hands in his pockets. You practically fumble your key in your haste to get it into the lock, letting out a satisfied sigh as the latch finally clicks open.
“There. I’m in,” you say as you step over the threshold, waving a dismissive hand at your unwanted companion. “Leave.”
But he hesitates just outside the doorway, teeth chewing at the corner of his lip. “What are you going to do if he comes back?”
“That’s my problem, isn’t it? I stopped being your concern when you dropped me out of nowhere a year ago.”
Your eyes sting at the memory, tears threatening to spill over. You don’t want him here. Don’t want to see him or have him anywhere in your vicinity. Not when it still hurts like this.
Though, truth be told, you don’t expect to ever be fully over him.
“We’re done, Jungkook,” you murmur. “You made sure of that.”
And you close the door in his face.
The distress subsides quickly once he’s out of sight–like he was never there to begin with–and you don’t linger, dropping your bag on the sofa and heading straight for the bathroom. This is how you’ve made it a year without him; it was weeks of crying before you realized that wallowing was doing you no good, only fueling your misery instead of providing any kind of catharsis. So you’ve done your best to simply push past it and cast away the anguish that bubbles up every time you think of him. Not allow it to linger like the shadows at the edges of the room.
You shed your clothes and turn the shower to a temperature that you’ll probably regret later. But for now, you savor the way the water sears your skin as you wash away the day with all of its unpleasant surprises. Taking your time, you scrub every inch of your body and carefully shampoo your hair (trying not to fall back into the fantasy that’s plagued you on occasion where it’s his hands and not yours spreading the bubbles over your form).
The self-care continues as you step out of the shower and leisurely work through your skin care routine, even taking the time to blow dry your hair. By the time you exit the bathroom, the fog on the mirror has dissipated, and you’ve once again successfully tamped down the memory of Jungkook and his hands and eyes and everything you ever felt for him.
Or so you think.
After popping into your bedroom to pull on some pajamas, you pad back into the living room for a glass of water, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the front door. Regret attempts to push its way into your consciousness against your better judgment. The man broke your heart, yes. But you do feel a little guilty slamming the door in his face after he just fought off a creep for you.
And speaking of Seungcheol, what if he does come back? You’re pretty sure he saw you punch in the building code the night you brought him home with you, and given his behavior, you wouldn’t be surprised if he filed it away in his head.
Anxiety winning out, you creep to the door and peer through the peephole. The hallway looks empty, drab beige walls taking up most of your field of view, but you jump as you spot a hulking shadow to the right. Your heartbeat races then slows, a closer look revealing hunched, unmoving shoulders wrapped in a familiar black t-shirt.
Jungkook swings his head to look at you as you open the door and glare down at him. His legs are pulled up, arms resting on his knees, and it might be endearing if not for the fact that he absolutely, positively should not be here.
“What are you doing?” you ask him for the second time tonight.
“He might come back.”
“And you’re going to what? Fight him?”
He shrugs. “If I have to.”
“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, challenging. “You’re going to sit out here all night?”
He shifts where he sits, wiggling his hips like he’s firmly planting his butt into his chosen spot. “Yes.”
You roll your eyes at him but don’t doubt that he would. Again, if there is anything you know this man to be, it’s stubborn. “You’re going to scare the neighbors.”
“Who, Mrs. Kwon?” A tiny smile plays on his lips as he glances in the direction of your elderly neighbor’s apartment. “I think she’d be delighted to see me.”
If you’re being honest, she probably would be. She’s always adored Jungkook and praised him as the “kind, handsome young man” who helped her put away groceries and fixed her leaky faucet one time. In the months following your breakup, she’d asked about him once or twice, patting your arm reassuringly when you awkwardly told her she wouldn’t be seeing him anymore.
“Don’t worry, dear,” she said. “He’ll come around.”
Well she’s turned out to be right in that he’s certainly back here again, still watching you from his spot on the floor. And you don’t know whether it’s his big doe eyes or the fact that he really would guard your apartment all night if you let him or the genuine fear that one of the other neighbors will make a fuss at his presence, but you feel yourself softening.
Turning abruptly, you stride into the kitchen for your glass of water, walking out of sight of the door, which is still wide open.
“You coming?” you call, pulling two glasses down from the cupboard.
There’s a rustle as Jungkook stands and shuffles into your apartment, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. For someone who was so determined to defend you tonight, he seems uncertain now that he’s actually inside. His hands are once again stuffed in his pockets, and his eyes flicker around like he hasn’t been here a thousand times. Hasn’t cooked you breakfast in this kitchen in nothing but his boxers. Hasn’t watched The Notebook with you on this TV and held you as you both cried.
Hasn’t made love to you on the couch.
You slide a water his way, and he murmurs his thanks, sipping at it lightly. It’s strange–seeing him here again–and you can’t help but think about the last time he stood in this room. It’d been a maelstrom of accusations and hurt feelings that culminated in him storming out, the slam of the door echoing in your ears.
“You never cleaned that?” He gestures at the rug that covers most of the sitting area in your living room, eyes on the dark purple stain roughly the size of your hand.
You gulp down your water and try not to follow his line of sight. Try not to remember how you’d knocked over a glass of wine in your haste to get his clothes off during another movie night less than a month before your breakup.
“I kind of forgot about it,” you say. “Stopped noticing it after a while.” 
It’s a lie. There was never a time when you didn’t notice it, the memory of him haunting you every time you sit down on the couch and stare at the garish stain. And still, you haven’t been able to bring yourself to try and erase it.
Silence worms its way between you again. With only the soft light from the tabletop lamp glowing next to the couch, Jungkook’s face is cloaked in shadow. And so you barely see his lips move when he speaks. Barely hear it with how quietly his whisper slips into the room.
“I’m sorry.”
Your glass almost drops from your fingers, droplets splashing across your knuckles as you catch it at the last moment and steady it on the countertop. Turning to face him, you find his gaze already on you, melancholy tinting his expression.
“What?”
He tongues his lip ring, shoulders dropping a fraction. “For how things ended. I’m sorry.”
You can see the sincerity in his posture, can see the sadness in his form. And yet, his words only fill you with a hot anger that bubbles out of you before you can swallow it down.
“I don’t know why you would be,” you challenge, “being that you didn’t even respect me enough to give me a proper reason.”
Jungkook huffs at that; you think he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Did it really matter?”
“Yes.”
He gnaws at his lip again, no longer looking at you, and his lack of an answer only riles you up further.
“Was there someone else?” you demand, causing him to flinch. It was the same thing you asked him when he told you he thought you should break up, standing in almost this exact same spot.
“No,” he murmurs after a moment. “There wasn’t anyone else.” He pushes a hand through his dark, silky hair. “There hasn’t been anyone else since either.”
This surprises you. Jungkook is, in your eyes, the handsomest man you have ever come face-to-face with, but even from an objective standpoint, he is exceedingly attractive. There is no doubt in your mind that he would easily be able to land a woman if he so desired.
“So then why?”
He sets his jaw, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and fixes his stare out the window. And it’s this final refusal, this steadfast dedication to not explaining himself, that finally has tears tracking down your cheeks.
The sight of you crying has his attention snapping back your way, hands reaching out as if to hold you.
“Don’t touch me,” you gasp, recoiling until you’re out of reach. “I…I hate you.”
It almost seems as if your voice lands physically, and Jungkook staggers back like you’ve slapped him, remorse immediately wiggling its way between your ribs. You know you don’t mean the words even as they fall from your mouth, but it feels pointless to take them back now, the sentiment already thrown out there and hovering in the hollow space between you.
Jungkook muddles towards the couch–more of a defeated slump dragging his steps than anger–and you think he’s going to sit down before he whirls back towards you at the last second.
“The gala,” he mutters. “That’s when I decided.”
You know which one he’s talking about. Hosted by your medical school to celebrate the end of the academic year, it had been a night of food, dancing, and socializing. You had, of course, brought him as your date and introduced him to your friends and classmates, excited to finally allow him to put faces to names. As you comb through your memories of the night, you can’t pinpoint any warning signs, only remembering the way he’d smiled at you throughout. The way he’d pulled you close and danced you around the room.
“I don’t…I don’t understand.”
He rakes his fingers through his hair again, tossing strands of night over his forehead. A sad chuckle looses itself into the thick air of the room, and the final dregs of his resolve flicker away. “I realized that I didn’t deserve to stand next to you. That you could do much better than me.”
Whatever you thought his reason had been–whatever theories or thoughts had kept you up night after night for the past year–this is not even close to what you expected. And while you always thought finally receiving an answer would be freeing, would offer you some semblance of understanding, you’re surprised at the rage that boils in the pit of your stomach, bile rising in your throat.
“Are you fucking serious right now?” you growl, taking an angered step towards him. “You were feeling insecure, and you made the decision to break up with me without even thinking to, I don’t know, discuss it with me first?”
His hand goes to the back of his neck now, embarrassment showing its face as he peers at you from under his lashes. “I was stupid–”
“No, shit.”
“But can you blame me?” he presses. “There we were: you, about to be this incredible doctor with all of your doctor friends…” His voice falters, sorrow lacing his tone. “And I’m just a tattoo artist.”
The defeatist way he says it helps to dampen your ire some, even if a heap of frustration remains–the sad shape of his doe eyes softening your edges.
“Just a tattoo artist,” you repeat. “Jungkook, I have always been so, so proud of you. I was never anything but proud to have you as my partner. You must’ve known that.”
His teeth worry his lip, and though he nods, he doesn’t seem fully convinced.
So you continue on, closing the distance between you a fraction more. “You started your own business from nothing. And I saw how hard you worked: to get the building, to hire other artists, train your apprentices.” You shake your head–half in irritation, half in awe. “And look at you now! You’re thriving. The last I heard, if you want an appointment at Golden Tattoo, you need to book months in advance.”
His eyes are alight now, some hidden emotion glimmering under the surface, but he stays quiet as he soaks in your words.
“So how can you possibly act like you weren’t enough?” you push. “You are amazing, Jungkook. And I never gave a shit about any job comparisons people may have made.” One more step, and suddenly you’re almost chest-to-chest. As always, you’re unable to resist the pull of his gravity. Yanked right back into his orbit. “I only wanted you. I’ve only ever wanted y–”
He cuts you off with his mouth, strong hands snagging your hips to pull you against him, and your own fingers reflexively tangle in his black hoodie as your subconscious gives itself over to him. Like it’s been waiting for this.
“I’m not. Not thriving,” he mumbles against your lips. “Not without you. Been miserable without you.”
And in spite of your anger, in spite of the fact that you were ready to kick him out a mere hour ago, you find yourself kissing him back, relishing the slick glide of his tongue as he licks into your mouth.
You startle as the backs of your knees suddenly bump against the couch, and then Jungkook is spinning as he settles onto the plush seat, pulling you along to straddle him. He sucks at your neck until you can feel the blood blooming under your skin, painting you like the pretty ink on his arm.
Speaking of.
The fabric of his hoodie whispers as you pull it up and over his back and head, tossing it over his shoulder and into a corner. His arms now bare to you, you gloss over his tattoos with your eyes and fingers until you find the one you’d picked out for him; the lovely orange of the flower petals seem to glow even in the dim light of the room.
“Beautiful,” you whisper.
“Just like you.”
You look at him then, the twinkle of tiny galaxies in his eyes betraying his hope. And before you can go any further, you need confirmation.
“You left.”
“I did.” Fingertips press lightly against your waist like he’s afraid you might be the one to disappear now. “I’m sorry.”
“Jungkook, if…” You lick your lips. Can almost taste his regret. “If we do this and you leave again–”
“If we do this, I'm not going anywhere,” he insists, tugging your hips down to grind against him and ghosting a kiss at your jaw. “Just wanna be here with you. Just want you.”
And it’s all you need to hear.
You shed the cotton shirt you had thrown on after your shower and move to yank his own off, tossing it in the same corner as his hoodie. The muscles of his pecs and abs shift under your hands, burning hot where your fingers trace the contours of his torso. 
“God, I missed this,” he groans as he buries his face between your breasts, nipping at the skin there before laving the spot with his tongue.
You’d agree–echo the sentiment that your body has been aching for this–if not for the fact that you’re too busy trying to get the two of you naked, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts.
But a tattooed hand covers yours, eases it away to take its place. “No,” he rumbles. “Let me.”
Wide palms and long fingers span your hips and thighs, grasping as much skin as possible even as he drags your shorts and panties down your legs and helps to steady you as you kick them off. They join the tangle of his own clothes
“Fucking gorgeous,” he growls at the sight of you finally naked in front of him. And with such speed that it almost seems like it’s involuntary, an impulse outside of his control, he’s immediately stroking at the apex of your thighs.
“Baby, this wet for me already?” A breathy sigh passes from his mouth to yours, almost laughing at the ease with which he glides through your folds. “Hell, I could just–”
A finger slips in and you gasp, Jungkook smiling wickedly at you as he quickly adds a second and curls them against your walls. You force your eyes closed as they roll back in your head, and you keel forward, babbling incoherently against the line of his collarbone.
“Use your words, love; you can do it.” He says it as if his fingers aren’t currently buried in you down to the knuckle. As if he’s not making you see stars behind your eyelids right now.
You choke down a breath, desperate for the oxygen. “Insane,” you pant. “I said you’re fucking insane.”
“Only for you,” he says before sliding his digits out of you and dipping them into his mouth. He moans at the taste, and even with his lips closed tightly, you can see the way he’s working his tongue around each finger, unwilling to waste a single drop of your essence.
Like you said. Insane.
He gives you a moment to catch your breath until you’re the one who’s getting impatient, hastily undoing his belt and tearing it from his pants with a hiss. But as you shift off of him so he can slither out of his pants and boxers–his length springing free to slap against his smooth stomach–you’re hit with an untimely realization.
“Jungkook, I don’t have condoms.”
He freezes, the color draining from his face (though admittedly, that may be because all of his blood has clearly gone south). The two of you stare at each other for a long second before he suddenly leans over, rummaging back through his pants pockets. He pulls out his wallet, rifles through it, then tosses it across the room in frustration, head tilting back against the couch as he groans at the ceiling.
“Fuck, me neither.”
You chew at your lip, a loaded quiet settling over the room as Jungkook wipes a hand over his face.
“I’m still on birth control,” you whisper, and Jungkook whips his head around, eyes wide and questioning like he’s not sure he heard you right. But you don’t repeat yourself, only hold his stare until he’s tentatively reaching out to graze his fingertips along your thigh.
“I told you. There’s been no one else.” His expression is earnest, eager. You trust that he’s telling the truth, and yet you also know that if you refused him, if you said you weren’t comfortable, he wouldn’t push.
So you swing a leg back over his lap, drag your wet folds against his cock. He moans, gripping your thighs hard, but he leans in to bite at your lower lip with a growl before pulling back to search your face.
“You?”
It hurts that he even feels the need to ask. Because how could you even want someone else? Who could possibly measure up?
You brush a reassuring, barely-there kiss against his already swollen lips. “No one else for me either.”
This seems to please him, but you still see hesitation behind his eyes as he asks, “What about the guy downstairs?”
A drunken mistake was what that was. All sloppy lips and fumbling hands that had left you feeling more empty than anything, and which resulted in you sending Cheol away before he had even gotten a peek at your bedroom.
“We made out once,” you admit, hating that you’re even having to think about another man when Jungkook is here in front of you. “But nothing else happened.”
“Good,” he grunts, but his fingers dig into your backside like he’s trying to reclaim you. And just a fraction of a second later, he’s devilishly tonguing his lip ring as he winds his palm back to bring it down harshly against the meat of your ass, the smack echoing between the walls almost endlessly.
“Ride me, baby.”
You’re quick to line him up–desperate, at this point, to have him inside of you–and begin to ease yourself down slowly, trying to give your body the space and time to adjust to the burning stretch of his girth. He’s always filled you to your absolute limit, tested the furthest boundaries of how much your body can take with his size.
“Yesss,” he hisses, nipping at your neck once again. “You’re doing great, love. Always take me so fucking well.”
You gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to catch your breath with the relentless push of him. If you were a betting woman, you’d put money on your intestines being somewhere in the area of your throat right now.
He wraps his inked arm around your waist, continuing to whisper his praises against the shell of your ear as he starts to guide your body up and down. Intoxicated by the smooth slide of his length, you soon find your pace, and your shared moans fill the room–the whole city probably able to hear you right now.
You move that way until the pressure building becomes too much and your legs start to tremble, quivering against Jungkook’s own muscled thighs.
“It’s okay; I’ve got you.” He bands his arms around you and presses you to his chest, holding you in place so he can thrust upwards.
Hard.
You’re practically screaming now, burying your teeth into his shoulder so as to muffle your sounds and not scare the neighbors. It’s all you can do to hold on for dear life as he rapidly pistons his cock inside of you, the slap of your hips like a metronome.
It builds and builds until it breaks and you’re falling apart in his arms, the spasms of your inner walls pulling him over the edge with you as he empties his seed deep inside.
The silence that follows in unlike the others you previously shared this evening–tension traded for serenity as you sit on the couch holding each other, you still contentedly stuffed full of him. He traces the ridges of your spine in a soothing pattern that has your eyelids drooping, your cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck.
“I missed this,” you whisper once your brain has finally remembered how to construct human speech.
“I missed you.”
You pull back so you can rest your forehead against his and gently run a finger over the lines of his face. “Where do we go from here?”
He hums. Tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “Take it day by day?” he suggests. “We don’t need to rush into anything if you don’t want to.”
“Mm, that does seem like a problem for tomorrow.”
A dark eyebrow quirks, teasing. “And what about right now?”
“Now?” you ask. “Do you remember the way to the bedroom? Or…” You shift your hips, already feeling him twitching inside of you.
“Or.” He jolts forward to capture your mouth in a hot kiss, and you smile into it, whole again. “Or sounds good.”
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a/n: pls like, reblog, reply, and/or send an ask if you enjoyed! <3
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frmisnow · 4 months
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˙✧˖ ?! — KEEPING YOU IN BED (CAUSE I'M DOWN BED). - MDNI !!!
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— ‧₊˚ — 🍵 : "wonder where your colleges think you are, they'd never guess i'm balls deep into you huh"??"
summary. going to work on your boyfriends single day-off already sounds like a death sentence, things only become worse when he makes it especially hard to leave the bed.
notes. SLEEPY HORNY KOOK AASHHSSHSH my roman empire... 😭 SORRY FOR THE TITLE I HAD A LIL GIGGLE OKAY ???
warnings/includes: (NSFW) dom! jungkook x f! sub! reader, starts sleepy + wholesome, turns a lil unhinged..., pounding, overstimulation, he's just a bit mean in second half (but we love it)
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you rub your eyes, the morning sunlight blinding you through the sheer curtains - soft and rhythmic breathing audible beside you when you look over you find your boyfriend's chest rising and falling slowly, one of his arms still wrapped around your waist, in pure peace still somewhere in the deep roams of sleep.
after all it was his day off, a rare sanctuary in the hectic schedule of hislife, and yet, there you were, inching away from the warmth of his embrace, preparing to face the day ahead.
but as you attempted to free yourself from the tangle of sheets and limbs, a sleepy murmur escaped him, a half-formed quiet plea, "just few more minutes" His arm instinctively tightened around your waist, drawing you back into his tight hug, nuzzling his face to your middle body. quick little peeks placed all over tummy, almost like rubbing his face over you, his hands lazily tracing circles over your sides, "just a little longer"
he shifts his position, now completly lying over you, trapping and preventing you from leaving, wrapping his arms around your neck, "love you so much" whispered into your nape.
you giggled in response, your hands hugging his back, travelling under his shirt, rubbing over the skin gently, "you're trying everything to lure me in longer huh"
kook smiled sleeply against your skin, his head moved to your shoulder so he could look at your face better, lips roaming over your collarbone, settling on them for a split second, "is it working?"
"don't know, might have to try a bit harder" you answered in a joking tone, your fingers tracing light patterns on his back.
he squints his eyes, a faint smile on his face, raising his eyebrows, "oh really?" fake innocence added into his tone.
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you were stupid.
in fact very much so.
out of experience you should've known that jungkook has an unbelievable amount of sheer competitivness inside him and if you unleash that - you're pretty much fucked.
you should've recognized that familar grin, you should've recognized those wandering hands of his that would do anything just to prove you wrong, just to remind you that nobody doubts him without well- consequences!
those consequences may include: him in the beginning softly manhandling you (in his own way y'know) which turns into him throwing away any sense of tiredness or gentleness he had before, sentences like "feel me fuckin pounding, listen to it" or "so much fuckin cum" rolling over his tongue as he overstimulates you over and over again.
damn well keeping that clock on the night stand at the corner of his eyes, just to rub it into your face, "how easy it was to get you to do this" or "wonder where your colleges think you are, they'd never guess i'm balls deep into you huh"
and oh he's looking for answers from you too, "what are you gonna tell your boss now?" half mumbeled half groaned as he slams into you once more chasing that 3rd orgasm, obviously knowing you're way to brainfucked to understand think about even responding.
"should've kept your fucking mouth shut, don't you think?" and all you can do in response is whimper and moan like a little bitch.
weirdly enough that's what satisfies him - the slutty expression on your face, the way your mouth stays slightly parted, the way your pussy tightens around him, the way your tits just fit so easily in his hands like they were made for him (which he'll openly say 2!), the way you sound, the way your body looks when he fucks you senseless - everything about you like this is so endearing to him and worth repeating over and over again.
he can be real sweet after, acting like it never even happened, bringing you breakfast to bed while you were lying bare trying to regain your brain acess again, innocently saying smth along the lines of: "i called you in sick for today" then adding, "it's not like it's worth going anyway might just spend the day with me" okay whatever you say kook :3
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venusjeon · 6 months
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angel in the marble
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after you fail to pickpocket him, the famous yet arrogant artist Jeon Jungkook takes you off the streets to make you his servant, and the more you know him, the more you realise he's not as detestable as everyone claims he is.
♔ PAIRING: michelangelo!jungkook x servant!reader
♔ GENRE: high renaissance au, angst, smut, humour
♔ WORD COUNT: 8k
♔ WARNINGS: homelessness, stealing, mild swearing/violence/drinking, 90% of this is bickering lmao, mentions of minor characters' death, jealousy and kinda possessiveness?, referenced unconsensual groping (not by jk), a bit of blasphemy, making out, groping, fingering, rough angry sexxx, choking, slapping
♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: fun fact this is mostly historically accurate! jk's characterisation, the grocery list doodles, the sack of rome, the beef with his brother, the encounter with his rival (raphael)... are all taken from michelangelo's actual life, even some stuff is quoted from his letters lol. man was fanfic material.
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1529, Rome
“How much for that one?”
“No, that one’s sold already.”
It was a lively morning. After days of heavy rainfall, those of high social class were eager to get out and meet under the gentle sun of spring, whose glare reflected on the precious stones of their jewellery; while those of low, out of necessity, couldn’t wait to reopen their businesses or set up their stalls and get back to work. You liked to eye them all as you strolled the streets of Rome.
“To whom?”
“Your friend Taehyung.”
“Agh… How much is that prick paying you?”
The point of the matter was that it was bustling, some colliding if they looked away from where they were going for more than a breath. It worked in your favour for it was then easier to make yourself scarce right after stealing bags of coins, such as those of the three men seemingly bargaining by a workshop’s entrance out of which a large block of marble was being dragged. Perfect.
“Three ducats.”
“Three?! He’s robbing you of two ducats. I’ll pay you the five it’s worth.”
You kept your head low as you approached the pair that seemed wealthier and with those stealthy hands of yours unfastened the bags tied to their belts. After all, pickpocketing was a skill you’d had under your own for some years now, so this was bound to go smoothly.
Because you didn’t realise there was a guardian with them, perhaps you’d grown arrogant.
“I’m sorry, maestro. It’s reserved.”
“But it’ll become a waste in his possession!”
As you slipped away into the crowd, mouth watering at the fresh-baked bread you were going to devour as soon as bought, this brown dog leaped up at you out of nowhere, ignoring your desperate efforts to shake him off. If anything, they caused him to bark.
No, no, no…
The three men turned to the scene playing out not so far, and thinking his dog was bothering you one of them shouted, “Bam, come here, boy!” but as he obediently ran to his owner, you were too slow to hide the bags in your hands. It only took the pair a second to make them out, check whether theirs still hung on their belts, find them not, work out you’d stolen them, look back up, and find you not either.
Of course, you’d made your escape by then, dived into the sea of people and swum through them as quickly as possible, only stopping when you reached an empty vaulted alley to catch your breath.
That was ridiculously close. If you weren’t more careful next–
Your train of thought was interrupted by someone grabbing you by the arm from behind and pushing you against the nearest wall. A grunt accompanied the thud, and a gasp followed at the sight of the two men from before—dog included. Pinned in place, it’d be a bad idea to fight back or attempt to run away again. Fuck’s sake.
“Do you know what happens to thieves?” the one cornering you asked so close that when the cold breeze rustled his hair, some strands grazed your face. You looked away to avoid the tickling rather than out of fear, or so you wanted to believe. “They have a hand cut off. Seems fair, doesn’t it, Jimin?”
By contrast, that Jimin didn’t look intimidating, otherwise still catching his breath from the chase, but he did snatch the coin bags from your hands. “It doesn’t have to be so, maestro. We got our money back. She’s… just a girl.”
“And that exempts her of crime?”
“Please, don’t report me,” you begged, humiliating as though it was.
“Why shouldn’t we?” the maestro scoffed. Maestro… You were being threatened by a damned craftsman, the other one probably his assistant.
“Because I don’t want to lose a hand?”
“Oh, but we wanted to lose money, did we?” You rolled your eyes, and he released his grip only to step away. “Take us to your father, brat. He’ll answer for you.”
It took you a moment to respond, “I don’t have a father, or anyone... Only I can answer for my actions.”
“You’re a beggar?” Jimin asked, taking pity as he studied your appearance for the first time. Dishevelled hair, tattered dress, unpleasant smell… Yes, they should’ve guessed.
“She doesn’t beg, though, does she? She steals.”
“Only from cunts.”
His head snapped to meet your glare, and Jimin laughed, “You seem to not know whom you speak to.” He could be Jesus for all you cared. Uninterested, you petted the dog, Bam, seeing as he’d leapt up at you again. “This is Jeon Jungkook.”
You froze. The Jeon Jungkook? The famous artist who painted and sculpted for the Pope? Whom faraway kings and even emperors commissioned? The one whose genius was said to be changing the world?
At the lack of attention, Bam returned to his master, and that snapped you out of your shock to ask, “Then why do you whine?” The two men frowned, having clearly expected an apology paired with the usual bootlicking. “As if you need that bag more than I!”
“What nerve,” he scoffed again, making you wince by grabbing your arm tighter than before and starting to drag you into the next street. “You’re going straight to the authorities!”
“Wait,” Jimin intervened, thank God. “Weren’t you in need of a servant, maestro?”
“So?”
Jimin pointed at you with his gaze as though it was obvious. “You’re in need of a servant, she’s in need of a roof.”
“I would rather have a hand cut off.”
“I would rather have her hand cut off too.”
Jungkook tried to resume dragging you, but Jimin blocked his way with a soft smile. “What’s your name?”
“Y/N…”
“Do you know how to take care of a household?” Slowly, you nodded, melancholy engulfing you at the memory of cooking or sweeping the floor with your mother once upon a time. Somehow, she always found a way to make chores fun... “Then you qualify for the job. You’ll have three meals a day and a bed to sleep on. And you, maestro, a servant who’ll work her hardest, lest you fire her and she ends up in the streets again.”
Both you and Jungkook reluctantly glanced at each other. Truth be told, you didn’t prefer losing a hand to living with him, you just didn’t like him. Despite being a celebrity, he was a stranger. It just wouldn’t work.
But then, why were you holding your breath, hoping he’d accept?
“We shouldn’t have left Namjoon’s workshop. The marble is about to be delivered,” he said walking away. The air left your lungs in disappointment. It seemed you were to remain a stray cat. Jimin pressed his plump lips apologetically as he gave you enough coins to buy that bread, and you nodded, grateful all the same for his trying. You watched him rush to Jungkook’s side but when this one saw him, he turned around. “Hurry up, brat. If Taehyung gets that block of marble, I’ll not take you in.”
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Since the first day, you could attest to Jeon Jungkook’s nature being as rough and uncouth as the rumours claimed, and after living alone with him for two months still believed gossip such as that he’d got the scar on his left cheek in a tavern fight—in which, if you’d chanced to be present, you would’ve rooted for the other individual.
It appeared it wasn’t just others Jungkook was harsh to. However rich his talent had turned him, he behaved like a poor man, consuming food and drink sparingly and out of necessity instead of pleasure, spending only the money required to live decently, sleeping little in order to work on commissions from dawn to midnight…
Why he chose to take little care of himself was a mystery to someone who previously had not been allowed a choice, even if putting work before all was in order to thwart Kim Taehyung’s plans of ruining his career, as he claimed. You doubted his rival was obsessed with him so, but had learned to agree with whatever Jungkook grumbled to avoid disputes. Most times.
Deep down, you had a feeling your boldness amused him. Who else dared get on his nerves?
“I think all you artists fluttering around the Pope are no more than slaves to money,” you let drop once while making his bed. Bam was sleeping peacefully under the window, while Jungkook leaning against the door’s frame behind you, offended to the core. He could help, you thought, or at least loosen my corset a little…
“I, a slave? I’ll be damned… There is an angel inside every block of marble, and I’ll have you know I carve to set it free.”
“Is it the angel that charges the Pope, then, master?” You could feel him barely restraining the urge to throw you out the window, smiled as you finished smoothing out the blankets.
“You missed a wrinkle there.”
Hands on your hips and frown on your brows, you examined the neatly arranged coverings of his bed. “Where?”
“On your face,” he muttered before making his leave.
Not his finest jibe, but the metaphor did stay with you. An angel inside the marble… It perhaps applied to Jungkook himself, though you’d never tell him.
One instance it came to mind was recently, when his assistants and apprentices were invited over for dinner.
Usually, he’d tell you which meals he liked and you’d ask at the marketplace which ingredients to buy, but now that about ten meals were to be cooked a list was needed. So there he sat on his desk in his study, inking said list as you waited in front of him, fiddling with the undershirt that peeked out of your dress’ sleeves. Given that your eyes were fixed on it, you only learned Jungkook was done when the sound of his quill scratching the paper ceased.
“Be back no later than dusk,” he ordered, “I bet there are still Germans and Spaniards lurking about.”
A year had passed since the Sack of Rome, but the mention of it sent a shiver of fear down your spine. Whatever the political reasons for it, you hated everyone involved, for Hell itself would’ve been a more beautiful sight to behold those nine months when the Tiber’s waters remained painted red…
You were lucky to make it through. Your family wasn’t.
“Yes, master.”
“Here,” he said handing you the paper, then picked another letter from a pile of correspondence he’d been going through before your arrival. Jungkook was about to snap its wax seal when he looked up to realise you hadn’t moved an inch. “Why are you here? Away with you!” He saw the reason in the way you avoided eye contact. “You can’t read, can you?” Met with a silence charged with embarrassment, he leaned back in his chair and sighed, “Give me the list.”
Getting hold of the quill again, Jungkook began… doodling?
You tilted your head but couldn’t see well what he was drawing until he finished and returned the list to you. Then, your lips parted. Each item on the list was illustrated next to its name: ten loaves of bread, a jug of wine, tortellini, four anchovies, two fennel soups…
“I’ll teach you to read when I have time. This will do for now.”
“You’d do that?” For me?
Jungkook ignored you, before he went back to reading his letters complimenting the good gesture with an irritated, “Hurry up.”
That night his co-workers arrived one by one, Jimin the first. The sight of him when you opened the door brightened up your mood.
Unlike a certain someone he was always sweet to you, genuinely interested to know how you fared even if you were just a servant. He claimed that mattered not to him, that you were both commoners and thus equals.
“Look at this place, it’s spotless! And you know I’m furtive, so I won’t get in your way,” you told Jimin as you escorted him through a hallway, bright from the torches hung on the walls that you’d lit up earlier.
He laughed, “I cannot make you my servant, Y/N, you’re maestro’s.”
“But he’s going to drive me mad… To tell you one of many examples, he often falls asleep in his clothes, and who but I is to take his boots off so they don’t get the sheets dirty? If the chalk on his fingers or the dust from the chiseling on his hair won’t already. Bam is far cleaner…”
Jungkook had a workshop he barely set foot in, preferred his team made use of it instead to not be bothered by their idiocy. His words. So it was in a chamber on the ground floor of this house he gave way to artistic insanity. In your book, that meant constant cleaning.
Jimin looked at you fondly. “Sounds nightmarish.”
“It truly is!”
As soon as the two of you entered the dining hall, Bam ran from Jungkook’s side by the fireplace to Jimin, who was as excited to see him.
“Good night, maes–”
“Do you think I’m deaf, ungrateful brat?” Jungkook interrupted him to bark at you. “Rome is full of people begging to get a piece of me, so if you don’t like it here, I’ll just get someone else!”
“You say that and yet keep me like a prisoner!”
“As if you don’t have it better here than anywhere you’ve burdened with your presence before!”
“There, there…” Jimin interjected to de-escalate, kneeling to better stroke Bam. “Maestro, I’ve seen your latest sketch of the Virgin and Child. She resembles Y/N.”
Both you and Jungkook failed to fight off the embarrassment, gazes unable to find a place to settle. Sitting down on the large table, he explained, “It was just one time… I had used Yoongi as a model, but the Madonna looked too masculine... and rather than going through the trouble of finding some girl and hiring her, I had Y/N pose for me… So what! Why bring it up out of nowhere…”
“Because maybe you just need a bit of distance from time to time. With permission, I too would have Y/N pose for m–”
“Absolutely not.”
“Now, why the hell not?” you groaned stamping your foot, startling poor Bam. Hope had been born inside you in a second and cruelly crushed in the next.
“Because I say so. And watch your tone with me.” As usual, the mutual glaring would trick anyone into thinking the next step would be murder. Jimin, who knelt there awkwardly, certainly thought so, at least until the bell rang. “Now go answer the door!”
What happened later, though, rendered the fury Jungkook had evoked in your heart nonexistent and instead seized the thing in a clasp of distress.
In the morning, he walked in when you were sweeping the kitchen. At once you forced the sobs to stop and turned around so he wouldn’t see you wipe your tears.
“It’s past nine, where’s breakfast?” he asked in shock that you hadn’t even started making it, the table there empty.
You swore under your breath before leaving the broomstick leaning against the nearest wall, flushed face kept out of Jungkook’s sight, then in a haste fetched a plate, a knife, and a leftover bread loaf. “Apologies, master, I forgot. I’ll be upstairs in a minute.”
Sniffling betrayed you, at which Jungkook frowned. “Are you crying?”
Great, the question just about especially designed to make one well up. Not trusting your voice anymore, you shook your head. Jungkook approached, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from the task at hand, now cutting a few slices of the bread.
“Have you broken something?” You shook your head again, the suppressed sobs making your chin tremble. Jungkook took a deep breath before asking with a surprisingly soothing tone, “Then what’s wrong?”
“You won’t believe me.”
“Try me.”
Within an hour, he’d summoned a meeting consisting of all who’d attended dinner the previous night.
A seemingly calm Jungkook was sat at the head of the table, elbows sunk on it and fingers interlocked. You stood behind him, head still low out of shame. A tense silence had fallen in the chamber some time ago, and sick of it, Jimin shattered it.
“Have you anything to tell us, maestro?”
“I was waiting for Biagio to do so.”
The man was one of Jungkook’s favourite assistants who had worked with him for years, even longer than Jimin. And if it was possible for your position to be trickier, he belonged to some noble family.
“Me? But I’ve nothing to say, maestro.”
Jungkook leaned back in his chair. “My servant will, then. Y/N?”
Bastard. If you are going to fire me, why make me go through this?
“Last night, w-when I left this hall to go refill the wine jug… Messer Biagio followed me into the kitchen, and… h-he trapped me from behind, and started t-to touch me…” Your vision soon blurred, hence why you couldn’t see clearly how concerned Jimin was for you, or how Biagio jumped up in outrage. “I managed to push him away, and ran upst–”
“How dare you slander me, wench? Maestro, you do not believe this!”
“Do I not?”
“She’s lying! I caught her stealing sketches from your study, likely to sell them, so she’s trying to get rid of me!”
You almost scoffed. Only an idiot would choose the one occasion guests had come over and her absence would be noticed to carry out a theft.
Jungkook tilted his head. “I thought you had nothing to say. Why would you keep such a thing just now?”
Biagio gulped. “I deemed it best to mention it later, in private... You won’t believe a pickpocket before an old friend, will you?”
Silence returned, your breath still as you saw all the assistants and apprentices visibly take pity on him. The only one who didn’t was Jimin, but even on his face there was a hint of hesitation. Jungkook’s, you couldn’t see from behind, but after an eternity he stood up and walked over only to put a hand on the shoulder of Biagio, who smiled in relief.
A quiet sob broke through your lips, heart sinking. You’d needed Jungkook to believe you in this. Not because of the consequences his protection as your master could save you from, but because, like it or not… he was the closest thing to family you had.
It turned out he did believe you, judging by the punch landed on Biagio’s jaw out of nowhere. And the next one on his cheekbone, and on his nose. Before everyone around the table had barely stood up to stop Jungkook, he’d already thrown Biagio down and straddled him, pulling his doublet’s collar in a close, tight grip as he continued beating him up. Blood was drawn, but for once, you didn’t mind having to scrub it later.
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Jungkook’s influence trumped a whole noble house’s, you learned in the course of the months Biagio tried his mightiest and failed most miserably to have him arrested. Perhaps because of the Pope sitting on his shoulder.
That he’d taken your side was still hard to believe, all he’d grumbled with a shrug when you thanked him while tending to his wounds from the fight being, “I’d been waiting for the chance. I always thought Biagio was a weasel.”
With the matter resolved, life returned to normal—well, whatever that meant in Jeon Jungkook’s household. Because calling for you at the top of his lungs like a madman was not normal. The first time he’d done it you’d raced downstairs, afraid something horrible had happened, only for him to have you close a window as it was getting chilly. Devil rot him. You rushed no longer after that, much to his complaints.
Today, he didn’t notice right away when you appeared under the cased opening, and good thing he didn’t, for he was polishing a bust with sandpaper… shirtless.
Product of hours carving stone into his desired shape or occasionally beating someone up, he could brag of having muscles, which the current task had covered in a layer of sweat and dust. The way they flexed with each movement had you compelled, wanting to reach out, feel if his skin was as hot as the blood pumping through your veins faster and faster. Then your gaze moved to the bust and whatever spell you were under broke.
Hardly an angel was that widowed noblewoman, whom you wished had stayed trapped inside a block of marble. Her name was Madonna Maddalena, and she’d come some weeks past to make a commission covered in pearls, gold, and boldness.
“My friends refused to accompany me today. You’re said to be… disagreeable, which I’m sure is untrue. However, all of them do want to know if you’re as fine-looking as is also rumoured, maestro” she told Jungkook within minutes of meeting him, still by the entrance!
Now you can tell them he’s not, you bit your tongue before it remarked, as this wasn’t Jimin but a patron not to be scared away by your bickering. It wouldn’t be true anyway. All your master lacked in manners, he made up for with looks… Which you’d never say out loud. You’d never say either that he looked even better when irked.
“I’ve heard many rumours about myself, most of them nonsense. My appearance was involved in none.”
She smiled seductively. “I suppose I’ll have to be the one to spread them.”
“The weather is pleasant today,” Jungkook changed the subject, flustered beneath the formal demeanour. “Shall we have wine in the garden?” You left to prepare it not before catching Maddalena raise her brow at you in disapproval. She must’ve been able to tell you thought she was a pompous cunt.
The beautiful flowers you cared for tried their best outside, but the air didn’t get any better.
Sat around a small table, Maddalena explained she wanted a bust of herself by his talented hand to decorate the main hall of her palazzo. You served them wine, not really listening until Jungkook started playing hard to get. The hundred times you’d told him it wasn’t a good tactic to make his labour out to be too prestigious had apparently fallen on deaf ears.
“Any other artist could carry this out, Madonna. I am working for the Pope these days…” he subtly scolded her, a mere mortal, for wasting his precious time. And he wondered why he had a reputation for being arrogant.
Maddalena put his thoughts into plain words, “So why should you stoop to taking commissions from an insignificant widow?”
“Correct,” you said under your breath, luckily heard by none from the background, where you stood holding a wine jug until the madonna raised her cup and you approached to refill it.
“It is then fortunate I’m to marry a nephew of the Pope’s.”
Swayed by her future influence, Jungkook smiled back. “So it is.”
“But not for another week. ‘Till then, I belong to no man.” The suggestion in her tone almost drove you to spill wine all over her. No, better yet: order Bam to sic on her. He’d do it.
Just, who did this woman think she was? And why did Jungkook not kick her out right afterwards? It made you wonder whether he’d enjoyed the flirtation. Whether he would’ve been the one to take things further had his inconvenient servant not been present. It was common for men to have affairs and lovers, but it didn’t sit well with you that Jungkook might. Not that you ever imagined him doing any of that, for goodness’ sake–
“What took you so long?”
Jungkook’s voice brought you back to the present, under the cased opening.
“I was lazing about, as always,” you quoted his favourite false reprimand, making him roll his eyes, your own dropping to the floor when he walked closer.
“In that case, prepare a bath for me.”
“Yes, master.”
You sighed at all the work ahead. That being a servant was worlds better than living in the streets didn’t mean you looked forward to collecting gallons of water from a well, carrying them back, heating them, transferring them to a tub, then washing Jungkook—because you did wash him.
Biagio had hurt his left shoulder bad and ever since, he’d needed assistance in certain activities. Curious how he could otherwise chisel a goddamned bust without problem.
Jungkook’s full nudity only made you blush if you stopped scrubbing, so knelt with tucked up sleeves before the wooden tub he was reclined on, scrubbing away the dirt on his skin with lavender-scented soap you were. Maybe all the stupid feelings you’d been suffering lately stemmed from there…
Head resting on the edge, he was exhausted from the long day of work, taking your rubbing as a relaxing massage. You, however, couldn’t ignore the stinging guilt, what with the scar on his shoulder right in front of your face. He probably felt your breathing on it.
“I’m sorry you got hurt…”
Jungkook fought heavy lids only to see you avoid him. Allowing yourself to be vulnerable in front of him was embarrassing, as when he’d caught you crying, but he didn’t take advantage of the fact to humiliate you. Jungkook may be an ogre, but he wasn’t cruel.
“I’ve received worse for less,” he assured you in a calm, low voice. It sounded soothing to your ears.
“That, I don’t doubt,” you scoffed, glancing at his other scar on the cheek. “Did you also get that one in defence of some lady?”
“You’re nowhere close to a lady.” It could be done, you mused. Drowning him. “This was courtesy of my brother.”
“You have a brother?” It dawned on you how little you knew of him. Surely, most had heard it all about the divine Jeon Jungkook, but you’d never cared enough to learn past the shell of gossip, even after months of living with him. In fairness, he’d never asked about you either. You preferred it that way.
“Brothers,” he corrected you. “The one who did this to me was a wayward fool. Had to teach him a lesson.”
“Looks like he taught one to you.”
“I left with a scratch, he with a limp.” The conception of two brothers hurting each other so harshly widened your eyes for a second, and Jungkook noticed, for he added, “He was whoring around, wasting the money I worked hard to send, bullying our other brothers as well.”
Much made sense about Jungkook all of a sudden. Not his personality, that was incomprehensible. But why he killed himself to earn money and yet barely spent it… He had a family to provide for. Once again, you were reminded of his metaphor. Could an angel be in there?
Carrying on washing Jungkook, you dragged the sponge over to his neck. Then his collarbones, his chest, his abs just peaking above the water... They did look like a sculpture’s, especially wet and soaped, reminiscent of polished marble when the light of the torches reflected on them. Swallowing hard, the back of your fingers gingerly graced Jungkook’s muscles, both soft and firm. Slippery. Whatever possessed you to keep feeling them, you lacked the will to expel from your body, and so without realising your grip on the sponge loosened until it fell to float away, fingertips now free to roam over his abs.
You were slowly trailing downwards, past the water’s surface, when your wrist was seized and held in the air in a warning manner, the startle almost making you scream.
Sat upright, Jungkook was glaring at you so fiercely you feared for your life. But he didn’t say anything and instead just breathed hard, jaw clenched… almost as if he was holding back. Your rising heartbeat was deafening in the silence waiting for something to happen, anything, but what did wasn’t what a side of you anticipated with excitement.
Jungkook just let go of your wrist and returned to his previous position, and you got hold of the sponge and finished washing him, albeit holding your breath the entire time.
Days later, you came dangerously close to being fired.
The Pope had summoned Jungkook—something about a portrait commission—and you were to carry his bag filled with sketches for him due to his shoulder injury. As you navigated the ever-busy streets of Rome with him, the cold autumn breeze made you regret not putting on an overgown. The cioppa you’d bought with your own salary and not stolen. It brought a smile to your lips that faded at the realisation your mother would’ve reminded you to put it on before going out.
The sorrow pestering you turned to confusion when Jungkook stopped walking and tsked, telling you loud enough to be heard by all, “Look at him, the chief of police, with such an assemblage.”
A well-dressed man and what appeared to be his entourage walked in your direction, halting near enough. You didn’t have to ask to know this was his rival, the renowned painter Kim Taehyung.
“Whereas you, like an executioner, walk alone,” he mocked Jungkook, then noticed you standing behind him like a timid child. “Not completely, my mistake. Maestro, where in your barren soil did you plant such a flower?” He walked over to you, intentionally bumping Jungkook’s wounded shoulder as he passed, causing him to grunt lowly. From up close one was bound to marvel at how handsome Taehyung was, but you didn’t need proximity to tell he was a prick. Miles away, you would’ve known. “Why don’t you come work for me, flower? I’ll make you my muse.”
Jungkook scoffed again, “What, for your horseshit paintings? She’d be a fool to.”
Taehyung turned around to face him, feigning confusion with a smile. “But, maestro, how could they be so if you were once heard saying that all I have in art, I got from you?”
"You naturally have to resort to plagiarising my master’s genius if all you do is horseshit,” you countered, earning surprised looks from every man present, some laughs too, you were proud to say. Jungkook was certainly smirking. Taehyung opened his mouth, but you walked past him uninterested before a response came out of it.
“Good girl,” Jungkook laughed while leaving the crime scene, and for some reason your cheeks burned hot.
The incident happened once inside the Vatican.
Its grandiose corridors alone made you feel small, too unimportant to walk them, whereas Jungkook did so with determination, knowing he belonged at the top of the world. What with your tempestuous relationship, it was easy to forget he was famous throughout Europe. His feet would still never be kissed by you. Someone had to humble the man, right?
At some point the two of you arrived at a door flanked by guards, and averse, you grabbed the sleeve of Jungkook’s doublet.
“Do I have to go in?”
“Too good for the Pope, are you?” He shook you off. “Come on.”
“Damn you…” you muttered.
“What did you just say to me?”
“After you, master.”
Telling himself he’d be late if he scolded you, Jungkook turned and nodded at the guards, who opened the door of a chamber whose walls were frescoed with angels and saints, likely by Taehyung, giving off the impression one was in Heaven. When you saw him sat on a golden chair, old and grey, enjoying the tune of a lute player, you felt as though you’d just entered Hell.
The audience lasted for ever. While you stood by the door, Jungkook showed the Pope some sketches of the portrait for him to choose his favourite and then they talked and talked of politics. All you could do was fix your gaze somewhere on the floor and sigh.
“Yes, Your Holiness, this is the servant I mentioned…” A frown proceeded your looking up to see Jungkook somewhat embarrassed, scratching his nose as if to hide his face. He talked of you to others? Doubtless to complain…
With a sweet voice as if he was talking to a little girl, the Pope asked you, “What is your name?”
“None of your business, Your Holiness.”
The musician’s tune ceased abruptly, allowing Jungkook’s faint gasp to be heard. Then fell a short silence spent by the Pope blinking, taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me.”
Jungkook was quick to fake a laugh, though sweat formed at his temples. “A jest! She meant no offence, Your Holiness, but to make you laugh.”
You held the Pope’s glare in defiance, indifferent to the fact he was the most powerful man in the whole of Christendom.
By some miracle, he let it go, and you left that chamber minutes later with your head as yet attached to your body. Your arm wouldn’t be for much longer, though, given Jungkook was forcibly dragging you all the way out to the streets, pushing you into the first alley he saw.
“Are you out of your mind?!” he shouted, towering over you menacingly. Unlike the day you’d met, you weren’t scared, rather furious as him as you stood your ground. “That was the Pope, you fool!”
“So?”
Jungkook was in utter disbelief. “He could’ve ordered your execution– mine too!”
“Well, nothing happened!”
“Nothing?! I’m sure to fall out of favour!” He paced around, anxiety quickening his breath. “Years of pouring my soul into my craft, of grovelling before the right people, all thrown away! Good God, your attitude may cost me everything…”
“And what about me?! Everything lost to me does not matter?!”
Jungkook stopped to frown. “What the hell are you talking about?”
It was now you who walked up to him. “I didn’t have a job, or a reputation, or admirers. I had only a family, and I never wished for anything else! That monster you work for took them from me. When the foreigners’ armies came and everyone rushed to Castel Sant’Angelo, he gave the order to close the gates as soon as he was safe behind them! You must have been there with him, weren’t you? Well, we weren’t. We were left outside to be slaughtered. And I wish I had been, like my parents, so I didn’t have to suffer the likes of you any longer!”
Tears were streaming down your face by the end, Jungkook just staring back at you. It didn’t surprise him that your parents were dead or that they’d been killed during the Sack, but that it was so deep a wound left festering in your heart that you didn’t mind being put out of misery. He surmised your disrespectful behaviour towards him was also fruit of your pain, especially if you deemed him an ally of the one who caused it.
“The few things I own… They’re wasted on me. Throw them away or give them to your next servant,” you sobbed, taking for granted you were fired. Anyone with half a brain would indeed have you dismissed, and part of you knew it was bound to happen, that you would go back to breaking in fucking churches to spend the night.
So you turned around into the main street, set on wandering until your legs became too sore not to collapse. With any luck, a carriage would run over you. But warmth then surrounded your hand, and you looked down to see Jungkook’s holding it tight enough to force you to halt. Though still mad, a hint of compassion sparkled in his eyes.
“Let’s… Let us just go home.”
Home. His house had felt so for a while now, truth be told. Himself too.
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After that, you non-verbally agreed on a ceasefire—avoiding quarrels, that is, which was quite the task for both.
Such as now that Jungkook had you inking down a letter in his name. First of all, did you look like a scribe? If you’d known in advance the lazy arse would teach you to read and write for this, you’d have chosen to remain illiterate. And second, this was your short break before making dinner, intended to be spent playing with Bam. The poor thing was also in the study, at least being stroked by his owner, who was sat beside you on the desk.
“… I send you my regards, may God keep you from all harm. Jeon Jungkook in Rome,” he finally finished dictating, and you recording. “Give it to me, I’ll seal it.”
He was melting the wax with which to do so when the bell rang, to his surprise. Sighing, you stood up and went to open the door to whom turned out to be Jimin. The sight of him brightened you up, and yours stretched his lips into a smile.
“Evening, Y/N.”
“Good evening! I didn’t know the master was expecting you.”
“He isn’t…” You welcomed him in, brows joining at how he continuously chewed on his aforementioned lip and breathed deep through his nose as he followed you. Had something happened…? A decision to eavesdrop was made en route to the study.
Though Jimin requested for you to stay once there, and nothing could have prepared you for the reason why.
“This actually concerns Y/N…” You and Jungkook exchanged confused looks, him leaning against the desk and crossing arms as though he didn’t like the sound of that. Jimin fixed his already perfect clothes before addressing him, “I’ve come to ask for her hand in marriage.” Your jaw dropped. “I know it’s sudden at the lack of previous courtship, but I thought I should ask for your permission before engaging in it, maestro. She’s a lovely girl… and I think she’d be happy as my wife. Worry not, I won’t ask for a dowry or for her to stop working… Although on second thought, fewer hours of service would be ideal.”
This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be happening.
Jungkook must be thinking the same, for he squinted to ask, “Are you drunk?”
“N-No, of course not.”
“Are you sure? You want to marry a servant with little to her name.” He had a point, so you weren’t offended. If politics weren’t the reason for a union, did this mean… Jimin had feelings for you?
“Maestro, you say it as if I were a lord,” he chuckled. “I don’t care about Y/N’s possessions, I’ll provide for her anyway. I’ve… always been fond of her. And I dare say she shares the sentiment.”
Betrayal hid safely behind a look that asked if there was any truth to that. Obviously not! There was no romance in your own fondness for Jimin. If anything, you had thought he saw you as a younger sister to look after, therefore as a protective older brother you saw him. But so shocked were you still that no words managed to come out, and Jungkook’s gaze shifted back to Jimin.
“I’ll think about it. You may go.”
A curt tone was the norm for Jungkook, it was not being granted his blessing that disappointed Jimin. He knew for a fact he was an honourable man, so why wouldn't he entrust you to him?
“Quite well… I’ll show myself out.” he uttered, before making his leave failing to hide his low spirit by giving you one last shy smile you hadn’t the heart to return.
An awkward silence filled the air that even Bam daren’t break. Only once the front door was heard shutting did you walk closer to Jungkook.
“You won’t agree to this, will you?”
“Why shouldn’t I? I have to get rid of you at some point.”
“Rid of me? Like I’m a burden?” you asked, voice rising. How a servant could be so was unknown to you until, like wooden ship toys did when you’d submerge them in a bucket of water as a child, certain guesses surfaced in your thoughts. Trying to pickpocket him, the constant clashing, Biagio, that bath, the Pope… Yes, you may perhaps be described as a burden. But you didn’t want to leave. With a calmer tone, you pleaded, “I’ll behave from now on. I won’t cause any more trouble, I swear.”
Jungkook didn’t deign to look your way as he left, followed by Bam. “You have to marry at some point, Y/N. Otherwise people will gossip.”
Since when did he care about what people said of him? And why should you?
Winter having dropped its anchor, nightfall arrived early. Not early enough, you brooded as you cooked dinner, longing for the day to end once and for all. With any hope, all of this was a nightmare and upon waking up in the morning life would go back to normal. You didn’t even know why you wanted to stay with Jungkook, as the occasions in which you’d begged Jimin to employ you to leave this house were countless. The only certain thing was that you were upset.
Later, after washing all plates and cups, you began to put off all torches lighting the house, finding out in the hall that Jungkook hadn’t moved from the seat he’d dined in. You considered carrying on with your job and leaving him in the dark, but he wouldn’t find it as funny. Instead, you stood before him.
“Will that be all, master?”
The coldness in your expression made him sigh, “Y/N–”
“I shall retire, then.” You turned to leave but were made to stop in your tracks.
“It’s an advantageous proposal for you,” he lectured to whom he must believe an idiot. “Jimin works for me, he’s wealthy. A better match than you could ever aspire to. And he asks for no dowry because he doesn’t want money, he wants you…” His words were tainted with resentment. “He’ll take good care of you.”
Skirt of your dress swirling along, you faked a smile. “If you think so, master, then it must be so.”
He shook his head as he leaned back in defeat. “Suit yourself, but I won’t be the one to reject Jimin. You crush his heart.”
A laugh escaped you. “If you genuinely cared about him, you wouldn’t let him marry a woman in love with–” Oh no. It only hit you as you were saying it.
Jungkook had appeared annoyed, but now he was mad. “Who?” He stood up abruptly—chair’s feet scratching against the floor making you wince—and walked so close you were backed against the wall, face forced to turn to a side. In a low, deep voice, he repeated, less as a question and more as an order this time, “Who.”
There was no way in the nine circles of Hell you’d say it, when you didn’t want to believe it in the first place. For fuck’s sake, why? Jungkook only ever made you want to get away from him. That was the case right now, but then… why were your feet frozen?
Some unreasonable part of you seemed to have prevailed upon the others, casting away all resistance from your body and allowing yourself to indulge in Jungkook’s proximity. You met his eyes without fear, held his dark gaze. It didn’t take him long to work it out, yet he kept close, so close your unsteady breaths mingled, the effect akin to intoxication. He was visibly trying to hold back, telling himself it’d be a bad idea, but you prayed he wouldn’t care.
By God or the Devil, your prayers were heard.
Jungkook finally smashed his lips into yours, devouring them with a hunger you shared and felt growing as he gripped your waist to press you against him. A minute ago, you wouldn’t have imagined his tongue belonged inside your mouth, swirling around your own, and now you wanted it all over your body. As if reading your mind, Jungkook broke the ardent kiss to move down to your neck, which he licked painfully slowly before sucking hard, making you hiss with pleasure. He knew that would leave a mark, the bastard. You wondered if it was meant for Jimin, so he’d see you were Jungkook’s, and in such case you didn’t mind, let your eyelids close to enjoy it.
Steered by the lust possessing you, one hand grabbed his soft hair in a fistful, keeping his head in place where he was sweetly abusing your neck, while the other travelled southwards until it reached his crotch and held it over the trousers, feeling his cock stiffen. Jungkook groaned—a vibration to your skin—in retaliation lifting your skirt. You’d thought he'd take his time, tease you, but after ensuring you were wet enough by gliding his middle finger along your core, he slid it inside and began making beckoning motions.
“Master…” you moaned, legs shaking. Jungkook forsook your neck to pull back, watch how you struggled to keep it together as he added another finger, curling and uncurling them both, hitting all the right places, and unwilling to give him that satisfaction without consequences you groped his erection with the same vigour. Although he was in good control of his expression, his breath quivered against your lips, so he kissed them again, biting hard into your lower one.
He exhaled, “You’re driving me to sin…”
Indeed, the same fingers that held the brushes when he painted religious artwork were buried deep inside your cunt, bringing you the most sinful ecstasy. It made you chuckle. Jungkook took that as the mockery it was and, crossed, pulled his fingers out of you to drag you by the arm to the edge of the table, where he had you sit. Without delay he lifted your skirt again, only this time he also pulled down his trousers to reveal his cock, thick and throbbing, which he pumped as he watched you spread your legs eagerly, ready to take all of him.
With his free hand Jungkook cupped your cheek, thumb caressing your lower lip, coated with saliva and reddened still from when he’d bit it. He could sense your desire, that you craved him inside, had for a while. Desperately. And however much tempted he was to make you beg for it, his own arousal led his cock to your entrance and eased it inside already, another groan hitting the back of his bared teeth. You didn’t have time to gasp, his thrusts so quick they earned only moans, so wonderful did it feel.
Jungkook’s hand on your cheek then wrapped around your neck. “Do you know how often I’ve fantasised strangling you?”
You chuckled again as you slapped him across the face. Jungkook halted his movements in shock, glared at you. “And I slapping you?”
It took him a moment, but he scoffed and pushed you back so that you were lying down, climbing next atop you, confident that the wooden table was sturdy enough to hold both. So legs hooked around his torso and arms around his neck, you welcomed his thrusts, rough enough to make your eyes water. But it felt heavenly, how he ravished you... The mutual irritation and tension building up for over half a year translated into indescribable pleasure.
He kissed you again, flicking his tongue against yours as he pounded into you without mercy. Overwhelmed by the sensation, all you could do to express you were nearing your limit was sink your nails into Jungkook’s biceps at each side of you, moan inside his mouth. He took the hint and fucked you as fast as his body would allow, within mere seconds your walls clenching tight around him. The sight of you collapsing under him, overcome with bliss, made him reach his own highest shortly, spurting his warm seed inside you.
As his movements gradually ceased, so did your panting. Before a complete silence fell, you asked, “Am I still to marry Jimin?”
Jungkook grabbed your face and growled against your pouted lips, “You’re not going anywhere.”
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Text
✨the more the merrier✨
From my smut library, with love
🌷 taehyung f*kng his bestie in front of his gf by @badbtssmut
🌷 maknae line using his manager by @badbtssmut
🌷 the D Box ( yoongi x f. Reader, yoongi x f. Reader x jin x jungkook) by @breadoffoxy
🌷 center of Attention (jungkook x (F)Reader/(F)OCs (x2)) by @bangtanintotheroom
🌷 live s*x show with taehyung, reader and her friend by @badbtssmut
🌷 freeuse roomate (jungkook x reader x taehyung) by @badbtssmut
🌷 cam couple (jungkook x reader x a lot of people) by @badbtssmut
🌷are we still friends (jungkook x reader x mingyu) by @hannieehaee
🌷needy (jungkook x reader x yoongi) by @gimmethatagustd
🌷 three's company (jungkook x reader x jimin) by @moni-logues
🌷lights, camera, action (namjoon x reader x jungkook) (3 part series) by @colormepurplex2
🌷ribbons (jimin x reader x jungkook) by @jamaisjoons
🌷backtrack (jimin x reader x yoongi) by @mapofthesea
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