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#bts reactions
swanlakebaby · 3 days
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— rainy night 🌙 | pjm
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pairings: softbf!jimin x fem!reader
includes: fluff, soft bf jimin, rain, cuddling, soft kisses, GOOD VIBESSSS
💕 sfw 💕
about: spending a rainy night with jimin.
— 🌧️ —
jimin walks into the bedroom after arriving home from work , walking in and seeing you wrapped under the blankets in a calm sleep. he smiles at the sight and takes off his jacket , tossing it into the hamper. he undoes his belt and hangs it up. he decides that he’ll just shower after dinner and changes into something simple and comfortable for the time being.
being as quiet as possible , he slips out of the bedroom and heads to the living room , letting you finish your nap.
an hour or two later , you stretch and rub your eyes as you slowly wake up. you check the time and see that it’s past seven , meaning that jimin should be home now. you glance over and see his work belt dangling from one of the hooks on the wall and his work jacket lazily draped over the hamper , validating your assumption.
you sluggishly get out of bed and quickly use the bathroom , getting excited to see jimin after a long day. you slip on your house shoes and walk over to the living room , sliding your feet. the tv is on low volume , playing a rerun of some random kdrama. jimins slouched on the couch , his head resting against the cushion. he holds his phone in his lap , looking down and scrolling away , stopping occasionally to read whatever’s on his screen.
he notices you and smiles , not saying anything as he’s still into his phone. you stretch and walk over to him , sitting on his lap , facing him , which forces him to move his phone out of the way. he tosses it aside and pulls you close into a warm embrace. he rests his head on your chest , closing his eyes as he takes advantage of this moment. you wrap your arms around his neck lovingling , running your hands through his hair. “i missed you.” you say , your voice still groggy.
he looks up at you , his soft pink lips slowly moving. “i missed you too. did you sleep good?” you yawn , nodding. “my baby is still sleepy.” he says , chuckling. you smile at him , hugging his neck tight. “it’s the rain.” you mumble , snuggling into his warm neck. you stay like this for a moment , not speaking. jimin rubs on your back , swaying softly. you feel yourself dozing off again , still tired after the nap.
you feel a sudden poke on your side as jimin teases you. you groan and place your hand on his chest. he puts his hand over yours and leans in to quickly give you a peck on the lips. you kiss him back , not opening your eyes. you feel his body shift as he begins to stand up , holding you still.
he holds onto your legs and wraps them around his waist as he carries you to the bed. he plops you onto your side and you quickly snuggle back under the covers. jimin slips into bed beside you and immediately pulls you close.
you begin to cuddle and snuggle closely beside him , feeling safe and loved. you rest your head on his chest , the feeling of his chest slowly rising up and down as you both drift off into peaceful sleep giving you automatic comfort.
days like this were your favorite. not because the roads get closed down or because the dirt becomes muddy , but because you get to spend it in bed with the person you love.
-
A/N: a quick scenario i wanted to write out since it popped into my mind today! lol i hope u enjoyed :)
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angellcherry · 2 months
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— home.
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» pairing: jungkook x reader
» genre: fwb to lovers, hurt/comfort, nsfw
» synopsis: “show me your thorns, and I'll show you hands ready to bleed.”
» warnings: allusions to depression, brief mentions of self harm (nothing graphic!), a little bit of angst, cuddling, reassurance, jungkook is a big green flag, talks of therapy and healing, confessions, lots of kisses, he's down bad and so in love :( (they both are), pet names, soft!dom jk, slight size kink, missionary bc he needs to look at her and kiss her 😩, praise, dirty talk, choking, creampie, aftercare
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His hand curled around the nape of your neck the moment your lips touched. Warmth trickled down your spine, and he titled his head; tongue prodding at your soft lips, like he wanted you down to the marrow. Like he wanted to dip into your soul, kiss after kiss, until he was completely submerged; until he's explored every nook and crevice, felt every bump and crack.
He pulled away from the heat of your mouth slowly, reluctantly, eyes half lidded and dark. Lungs expanding to take in more air, voice coming out hoarse.
"You weren't answering your phone..."
"I know," you whispered, "I'm sorry."
Jungkook shook his head.
"No need to be sorry, baby," he lifted your hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on the soft skin there. "I was just worried."
He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in closer. You sank into his embrace so easily; like you just came home. In a way, you have. He hasn't seen you in over a week...
It may not have seemed like much, but your absence was tangible. Suffocating. Especially when he didn't know if something was wrong.
"I'm glad you're here," he murmured.
You turned your head to peck his shoulder, fingers entwining, and then you were walking towards his bedroom as though it was second nature. The change in your demeanor had the corners of Jungkook's eyes crinkling from smiling. You practically skipped over to his bed, hopping onto the large mattress.
"Can I get a shirt, please?"
He didn't think you comprehended how fucking cute you were. He turned to open his closet and began rummaging through it.
"At this point, I'm pretty sure I'd kill someone if you asked me," he muttered.
"What?"
"Nothing, baby."
Flushing, he ignored the curious tilt of your head and threw you his favorite t-shirt.
God, how could someone be so fucking cute?
You were always excited to nap in his bed, share food and wear his clothes. The fact that it brought you comfort made his already lovesick heart swell up and ache. Something so simple, but so domestic — it fucked with his head. He wanted this every day, in every life. You were his comfort, too. Why couldn't you see it?
He leaned against his closet, arms crossed, watching you slip out of your clothes, the heap landing on the floor. It was art. You were so beautiful; inside and out. He couldn't help the way his stomach stirred and heart fluttered, yet instead of acting on his urges, he just walked over to you and bent down to pick up your clothes.
While you got into his shirt, he folded them neatly and placed them on his gaming chair.
"I missed this bed so much," you sighed.
Jungkook glanced over at you, taking a moment to drink in the image of you lying there, the black cotton of his shirt slightly too wide and too long for your body; but fuck, it looked perfect to him. He bit his lip, making his way to climb onto the mattress beside you.
"What about me?" He asked, delighted by how you opened up your arms, instinctively scooting closer to him.
"Hm, what about you?"
Jungkook pouted, eyebrows furrowing. His arms wrapped around your waist.
"Hey."
You giggled, peppering his face with kisses, and he wished he could live in this moment forever, stop all the clocks, kill time. To hell with what that would do to the universe.
"I missed you, too."
Just like that, he melted. Somehow, it hurt so bad; he had you right there, and yet he didn't. Disappearing and reappearing. Out of reach, like a mirage.
He lifted your hand to his lips again, momentarily distracted by how small it was compared to his.
"So tiny."
Amused at the scoff you let out, he turned it to kiss your palm, then paused abruptly.
A raw shade of red caught his attention.
Narrowing his eyes, he examined the wounds around multiple fingers — or at least tried to, before you caught on and pulled your hand away like you got burned.
His heart dropped.
It's been a while. Why were you doing this to yourself again?
Fuck. He felt like a failure of a man.
He swallowed thickly, then pulled you in closer, as if treading on thin ice. Terrified of making a mistake and feeling it crack under his weight. Once he was under, once it all fell apart, he didn't know if you'd let him in again.
"Baby..." he whispered into your hair.
"I'm so tired, Jungkook," mellow, you answered the question he didn't get to ask. "I don't know what's wrong with me..."
"Talk to me," he pleaded. "I can't help you if you shut me down."
You sniffed quietly. There was a loud crack. Not in the ice, but in his chest.
"You can't help me either way."
Jungkook tried to lift his head to look at you, but you gripped his hoodie, bunching up the fabric in your hand.
"Baby—"
"Not everyone deserves help," you insisted, a wet sigh following. "What's wrong with me? Why can't I help myself? E-everyone else seems to be doing just fine, a-and I'm just rotting away, filled with these ugly thoughts and feelings, I can't do anything right."
Jungkook hugged you tighter, like he hoped he could mould you together, give you as much of him as you needed to feel whole again. He'd let you rip him to pieces to fill the void.
"Stop saying that," he breathed, his eyes burning, "fuck, stop saying that."
He stroked your back as you cried into his chest, softly, feeling helpless and furious at the same time.
"When you're always in the dark," he whispered, "you learn to make friends with monsters to survive. It's all you know, so it's what feels most comfortable."
He heard you inhale, felt your head lift with hesitation. Eyes swollen, glossy, lower lip still trembling.
Jungkook cupped your face, wiping at the wet streaks.
"When you're always in the dark, sometimes... it feels like it's all you deserve. But it's not your fault. You're not a bad person," he said softly, his thumb rubbing your lower lip. "Sometimes, it's just the monsters you know talking."
You blinked, small and vulnerable, like a child who just woke up from a nightmare.
"I... I don't know..."
Jungkook squeezed your waist, so close his nose almost touched yours.
"But I know," he promised. "I know."
He stared into your eyes, watched them well up with more tears. He wished he could kiss them all away.
"Let me be there for you—"
You kissed him, and once again, it hurt. Because he wanted you, he wanted you so bad, but not like this — why didn't you want him, too?
Outside of the bedroom, when you weren't tangled in sheets, it seemed like you had no interest in letting your walls down. He's spent so much time trying to climb them, only to end up with broken bones, back down on the ground again.
He couldn't do this anymore.
He pulled away from your lips, denying you the oblivion you craved. He wanted to let you use him, he'd do it every day if it meant he could see you again. But he was afraid that if he didn't speak up now, he'd never find the courage to do it.
"I want to be with you," he breathed out. "Why won't you let me love you?"
There was an instant change in your expression that made his stomach lurch.
"I— I..."
A pause, filled with uncertainty.
Jungkook searched your eyes. The windows to the soul, they said. Broken, and the interior was dark. Nothing good lurked in there.
"I love you," he repeated.
His heart pounded in his chest. He stared right into this endless darkness, crawling with insecurities and fear. As though he was hoping the warm whisper would chase away the frigid, haunted air breaking through, make all the other voices come to a halt.
He was no longer a boy, but a man, and he feared no monsters. He wanted to flood the space with light.
"Move in with me," his palm settled on your cheek, thumb brushing your skin. "I'll help with your classes and therapy. I'll take care of you. You can lean on me until you're strong enough to stand on your own. And even then, when you do — I still wanna be there. I wanna make you happy... Every day."
There it was. His heart, right in the palm of your hand, like an offering. Bleeding through your fingers. Willing to be crushed, if it meant at least he tried.
But you cradled it instead.
Fresh tears, sticking to your eyelashes, and then a rush of warmth in the dark. Your lips pressed into his, tender, and he shut his eyes, tasting a mixture of salt and your sweetness —
"I love you," a shaky exhale, right into his mouth.
It sank into him like sunlight, pulsing, nourishing and bright. And he swallowed it up with a kiss, his teeth clashing with yours.
He shifted to hover above you, finding rest in between your legs, goosebumps erupting when he felt your hand slip under his hoodie, inching it up.
A giggle slipped past his lips, and he disconnected himself from you only to take it off, throwing it aside carelessly before he was kissing you again.
He felt you smile. You went straight to his head like wine. Your taste, your scent — your touch, exploring the muscles of his back, his shoulders.
He was already hard, aching to get lost in you; dizzy on want and love.
Hands groping over clothes, wherever they could reach, hot lips trailing down your neck. He wanted to do so many things to you; kiss every inch of your skin, make you come on his tongue.
But you had the whole night — a whole eternity, really. And the way you squirmed beneath him, arching your back, legs parting, hips raising to feel him, urgent and breathy, wiped his mind clean off anything but the need to be inside you.
Jungkook groaned, his cock twitching, leaking precum into the cotton of his boxers. He remained still, however, letting your hand wander in between your bodies.
His eyes were glued to the way it traveled down his tensing abdomen, pausing to lower his sweats; then dipping inside.
He tried to stay quiet, though his chest was heaving, the sight and the feeling of your hand wrapping around his girth making it twitch again.
He watched you pull your panties aside, wet and ruined, revealing your pretty, glistening folds and the small entrance below.
So fucking small.
It looked almost obscene compared to his cock, long and thick and pulsating in your hand. But you fit him perfectly, like you were made just for him.
The moment you guided him forward, and the wet tip touched the heat of your cunt, he lifted his eyes to yours.
He felt so fucked out, but he was gentle as he pushed inside. The tight, wet muscle welcomed him eagerly, inch by inch, until his hips touched yours and he couldn't breathe.
For a moment, time stood still.
His head fell into the crook of your neck, inked hand squeezing your thigh.
"I missed you so much."
He sounded broken, but he's never felt so whole before.
"I missed you too..."
You clenched around him, prompting his hips to move off their own accord, coaxing the most beautiful sounds out of your body. The wetness, the smack of his skin against yours; the soft whines that fueled the heat boiling deep in his gut.
"Mmm," he moaned, raspy, "doing so well, baby."
He tried to stretch you out slowly, preoccupy himself with biting and sucking at your neck; anything not to focus on how you clenched around him.
But he was doomed, and he understood that the second you moved your hips, fucking him back.
"Oh shit," he gasped, "baby..."
He stifled another moan into your cheek, picking up his pace, so deep inside you he wondered if you could feel him in your tummy. The thought alone made his cock throb, every vein and ridge.
Long, ringed fingers wrapped around your throat, the pressure soft, but definitely there. In return, you grasped his shoulders, nails digging in, and Jungkook knew he wasn't going to last long.
"Good?" He breathed, slamming into you a little faster, stuck on your shining eyes and eager nods. "Yeah?"
The mattress began to protest under the force of his thrusts, but the sound was drowned out by everything else. Jungkook felt your cunt tightening, so warm and so fucking sloppy, his own little personal heaven.
"Almost there? Hm? Gonna make a mess for me?"
Clench.
He groaned, his tummy twisting, the moans spilling past your lips making his head spin.
You merely nodded again, as though you couldn't speak. It made the corner of his lips quirk upwards.
"Yeah?" He tightened his hold on your neck, staking his claim with a coo. "My girl's gonna make a mess on my cock? Pretty angel's gonna cream all over it?"
Your breath hitched, thighs beginning to quiver around him.
"Y-yeah," you uttered, breathless, "yours—"
Jungkook's tongue slid into your mouth, his rutting becoming desperate. He wanted to mark you and brand you and oh god — he was about to see stars.
"Yeah, fuck— mine, my good girl," he stuttered out, "oh, baby, mhmm, I'm gonna come—"
His hips bucked as your pussy spasmed around him, sucking his cock in deeper, restricting his movements. Still, he fucked you through your orgasm, letting himself go with a loud groan. A burst of stars, the tension snapping; and he spilled inside you, white ropes of hot cum that filled you up to the brim.
He slumped against you after a drawn out moment, his body thrumming with bliss. Careful not to crush you, however, he rolled over to the side, his arms automatically enveloping your frame.
With his nose in your neck, he waited for his breathing to even out, lazily rubbing your hands.
"So good," he mumbled, "fuck... Are you okay, baby?"
You hummed, snuggling into him.
"More than okay."
Jungkook smiled, opening his eyes and pressing a kiss into your cheek.
"I'll wash you up in a sec."
"In a bit... Stay with me."
"I'm staying with you forever. Good luck getting rid of me now."
Your laughter sent a pang through his chest. He wanted to keep hearing it.
He brought your hand up to his lips, gently kissed each wounded finger, muttering his I love yous and praises until you both drifted off. Sated and warm under the sheets, tangled up in each other; with a single promise echoing through his head.
Never again would he let you hurt like this.
And whatever was happening outside of these four walls hardly mattered.
This was all that mattered.
This was home.
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ctrlhope · 23 days
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Bound By Blood (m)
synopsis: A servant to the state since birth, forced to work for the royal family until you die. These are the conditions that have granted you life, yet are they are the same ones that can take everything away. He can take everything away. But he would never, for you are his future, his eternity.
k.taehyung x f.reader
❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: wc: 16.0k
❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: genre: royalty au, soft yandere, fluff, smut, smidge of angst
❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: content: soft yandere!prince!taehyung, maid!reader, power imbalance, talks about death/violence, blood, slight predator/prey dynamics, manipulation, misunderstandings, dom!tae, tae calls reader lamb, oral (f.receiving), marriage related dirty talk, virginity kink/loss of virginity, size kink, praise, reader is fucked dumb, implied kissing reader while she sleeps, implied offscreen somno, implied stalking, ownership, tae is rlly sweet and adorable
❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: notes: hello!!! this was meant to be a drabble but as you can see it spiralled out of control lmao. i got a little hyper fixated (and grew a really bad crush on this taehyung) so it ended up being way longer than i initially thought! regardless, i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did writing it!!
18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni
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The Kim Empire. 
Your home, your family, your livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.
They practically brandish your mind, have been since you were no more than a babe. Stuck in the clutches of everything Kim since you were born. Your mother a maid, your father gone from the face of the earth. At least as far as you are concerned he is, anyway. 
He is better off dead. The alternative of him living scott free in some far off land, meanwhile you have to serve the hand and foot of the king sets no more than the bitter taste of coffee beans against your gums. 
Bedding your mother, no more than a fresh-faced maid at the time. Outcasting her the second after when he had to have known the rules of the palace. The demise it would cost both her and her future daughter. Perhaps every generation that followed as well– if there were to be any, that is. 
Housestaff are not meant to have relationships. They are meant to serve the king and his bountiful family. How are you meant to do anything else with a child bouncing at your hip, a husband grabbing at your ass. 
You’ve heard the speech plenty of times. The words ingrained in your skull just as the brand you received when you were far too young to remember the pain of it. Evidence that you are bound to the palace by blood until the very moment you take your last breath. 
The punishment for becoming pregnant within the walls of the palace are simple: your child belongs to them. For anything within the Kim Estate is their rightful property, given to them by the grace of god. 
You, a gift from god to serve the empire. You would snort at the notion if training from a young age prohibited it. You are just a result of your mothers kindness, her naivety. 
You could never find it within your heart to blame her. She was just a girl who thought she was in love. Fired for her love. Had her daughter taken from her to serve for her love.
Love is something you will never be granted the property of. 
You will be granted an allowance to send home to your mother to keep her afloat. You will be granted a room to sleep in, clothes to wear, food to eat. A secure job in which you can never be fired– well. That is a lie. Though, your termination would come at the end of an axe, rather than a piece of paper. 
You used to muse at the thought– when you were a young girl, no more than 11 or 12. Going through your melancholy years, hating the rest of the world for simply existing. For putting you in a position where you could not change your fate, instead had to endure your present. Feeling like a  girl trapped in a tower just like the bedtime stories had always prescribed. 
One time you had caused such a ruckus in front of the oldest Kim son you really did think you were going to get the axe. Hell, you were even prepared for it. Locked away in a cell for two nights, brought before the executor. 
Right before the swing was meant to be brought down against your neck the head maid ran into the room, gave some sort of letter to the man. She apologised profusely, gripping your ear and dragging you away from the scene. 
You hadn’t acted ary since then. It taught you your place. Made you realise the need to survive buried deep within your bones. In the innate way some sort of wildcat would lash out until it was bloodied and on its last breath. 
You would not die at the end of a knife. You’d live your life, acting a maid until you could die peacefully of old age. Even if it meant surrendering yourself to servitude for the most annoying brat you’ve ever laid eyes on. 
A quiet sigh slips past your lips at the mere thought of him. The sound would get you punished if anyone were to hear, especially in respect to the coveted crown prince of the kingdom. Few share the same opinion as you of him– but then again most that work here aren’t forced. 
It is only when the stars are strung high in the sky that you allow yourself to feel such things. When you stay awake past the beginning of rest hours, most of the staff (save for the night shift) falling to sleep hours prior. Only then when you’re out in the gardens do you allow indignation to satiate your brain. 
For the few hours of freedom you may hold dear until the next morning begins and you are forced to live the same day once more. Over and over again until the end of time. 
Your fingertips reach out as you walk, bruised from the scrubbing of floors, to find purchase against the walls of flowers rimming the maze. Rough fingertips dance against the gentle petals of roses, lulling in the feeling. Picking themselves against the thorns without much of a thought, not withdrawing. Only pausing feet to observe. 
How can something so delicate and beautiful wish to cause harm? It does not. It simply desires a way to survive. You could never fault it for that. 
“Pretty, are they not?” A dark, husky voice sends cold down your spine. Hairs become on edge, back straightens taught, ears perk just as if you are an obedient dog. Fear flashing through your entire being.
You do not wish to turn around. Do not have any want to face the man that has caught the air in your lungs. The one catching you in the garden without any proper attire in place. Though you must. You must bow, grovel at his feet for forgiveness for allowing him to see you in your nightgown. For not being in bed as you should. 
Prince Kim has never been known for being kind. 
Your body acts for you while your mind sets on pause– taking several steps forward, bending your body at the hips to give a proper 90 degree bow. Your hands clasp before you, hair coming down in front of your face. 
“Prince Kim–” You rush, suddenly out of breath, “Please forgive my insolence. I-I am not of right attire or mind to be standing in front of his excellency right now. Nor should I be excused for touching the property of the palace. I have no proper excuse and any punishment you decide will be deserving. Please forgive me.” The words recite from your lips like a bible– instruction of them being heard time and time again. 
Cold night air whips at your ankles, fluttering the gown around your ankles. The chill only adding to the cold sweat you’ve discovered has perspired. Making your hair dance around your shoulders.
You expect something, anything really. A slap, a single word. Though there is only silence in response. Silence that extends far too long and feels far too pungent for your taste. If he was going to do something, you rather he just get it over with. 
After what feels like an eternity, you finally hear the baritone of his voice once more.
“Pretty, are they not?” He asks again, repeating the same sentiments as before. Confusion bristles through as a kite in the summer air. Why is he asking you this? Is he not annoyed he caught a maid in such a level of disrobement? What is he trying to gain? What does he want? 
All the questions you do not have any hope to answer rush through you causing you to feel confused and incomposed. Every boring lesson you were forced to sit through never taught you how to deal with this exact situation. You aren’t sure what he wants, nor your place in the garden. The thought scares you. 
Against your better judgement, you allow your chin to tilt up only slightly. Only enough to look at the man– to try and read the expression on his face so you can better analyse your next action. 
The shock you feel when you find his face is only inches from your own, frame bent down to make his eyes level with yours is something you cannot explain in words alone. 
You would prefer to scream and run, however that is not an option at this moment, or so it appears. Instead, your eyes only widen in shock, in trepidation. Your mouth opens into a small ‘o’ as you stare.
Never before have you made eye contact with a member of the family. Never before have you had the luxury to view one so close. In any other circumstance, you suppose, you would surely be punished for such a thing. Someone lower should never view a future king in such a way.
You wish you could say he was a heinous, ugly beast for hatred of the palace alone. Yet you can’t, for he isn’t. He is beautiful. 
Sure, you knew that already. Paintings of him are plastered across the walls– his face is everywhere eyes are able to reach. Yet this close, at this angle, you can’t stop the way your heart skips a beat. Can’t help but admire every facet of his complexion before being thrown in front of the lion again. 
A gorgeous, blinding smile wipes across his face the moment you face him. Lips forming into an adorable box after he finally has your attention fully drawn on him. You’re startled back once again, sending your brain into a further whirlwind than before. 
He desires an answer.
“I um… Yes. I suppose they are.” You nod slowly in response, following in his footsteps as he returns to full height. 
You must follow his lead– it is how you will survive. 
You usher a stray lock of hair over your shoulder, trying to stop it from hitting your face. The air starts to become stale again, feeling empty in the lack of his reply. It is awkward, and the way he stares at you, eyes darting around your face– your figure, has you feeling in some sort of girlish, embarrassed way. 
You think you dislike the feeling. 
“Are you a fan of roses?” His arms are pulled behind him, wrapped together as he bounces on his toes in something that looks like… boyish delight? The muddle of your brain can't help to understand a single thing. He is making no sense, trying to make conversation with you. Trying to find a morsel of companionship in someone who is meant to bow to him like he is the true god of your mortal plain.
You will have to oblige until he allows you to depart. 
“I suppose so.” 
He frowns. Try again.
“I adore them, the palace always has the most gorgeous petals all year round.” You smile at him, hoping it masks any discomfort you feel. 
The smile returns to his own lips as he begins to walk. Tilting his head to you as a cue to join him. You try to keep your paces a few behind his own, a maid should never walk beside a member of the family. Though he only slows in response, matching your gate even though it is obvious he hates having to slow down. 
Why is he behaving in this manner? It makes no sense to you. 
“The flower of devotion.” He nods, breaking the silence once more and keeping his eyes straight ahead. 
You almost want to admire his profile– the gentle curve of his nose, yet you refrain. Training your eyes ahead, keeping your fingers laced in front of you. Trying to look as put together as possible at this moment. 
“Is it?” You quiz, unable to take the awkward silence anymore. He doesn’t seem to mind it. Unbothered, tucking his hands into the pockets of his loose, flowing sleep pants. 
“Of many other things, as well.” He nods, sending a slight smile at you. 
“I don’t know much about the language of flowers.” Though it feels wrong to be talking with Prince Kim so casually, you try your best. The more you give in, mayhaps the sooner he’ll bore and the faster you will be able to run from the cage. 
“Tell me your favourite, maybe I can tell you its meaning.” He pauses and you find yourself at the foot of the gazebo. He reaches out his hand, offering to help you up the small stairs of it. 
All over again you find yourself taken aback. The prince is requesting that you touch him, not for his service, but your own. He desires to help you. Is for some reason treating you like a lady. 
You don’t understand it, yet with great hesitation you oblige. You place your hand on his much larger one, allowing it to encase it. Help you up the stairs.
“I don’t know many…” You hope he cannot hear the hesitation in your tone, “Though I’ve always been fond of lilies.” You tell him, attempting to pull your hand away from his own as you reach the top. 
He doesn’t allow it, keeping your small palm tight in his own. Fear trickles in once more, circling around your heart, constricting it. 
You knew you shouldn’t have trusted him in the slightest. It is here where you shall face punishment for all the previous misdemeanours committed. White stone shall be painted with red and you will be left to your own devices to clean up the mess.
Your lungs start to take in more air, though of course you try to disguise it. Turning around to face him, to discover why he has kept you held firm, air is leaving your lungs for another reason entirely. 
He holds your hand close, examining your fingers. Tilting it back and forth, smoothing his thumb over the back of your skin. If he takes note of the little dots of red, he doesn’t make comment of it. He only curls his fingers upwards, hooking against your own. Bringing your hand up to his lips as if it was the most delicate thing on earth. Staring at them with a passion you doubt you’ve ever seen before.
“Rebirth.” His breath fans across your knuckles, slowly lowering to place a gentle kiss against the skin. His lips are soft, so gentle against your weary flesh. So full of safety, so full of song.
When he retracts, he pulls away no more than a millimeter, though his grip tightens. 
“Purity.”
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Your first meeting with the prince had left you with a flurry of emotions, none of which you could hope to syphon through. For hours he kept you in the gazebo, sitting with you. Talking until it appeared the sun was cresting over the horizon. 
He refused to release your hand the entire time. His fingers playing with your own, perhaps obsessed with the feeling of your tiny hand laced with his own pristine skin. Did not pay any attention the several times you tried to excuse yourself, only changing the subject of conversation to try and keep you in place.
It was strange. Confusing. You did not understand the reasoning or cause behind any of his actions. 
Well, at least until the next morning while you were scrubbing the floors. Your friend Annabell cleaning right by your side. Catching up, gossiping about the new recruits found in the manner. It is only times like these when you actually get the chance to talk, to giggle with someone meant to be your equal in both age and house status. 
The only chance you’re truly able to forget about the fact she is able to leave once her contract expires. But it does not matter– any small amount of spite you hold is slashed away by her kind smile. The understanding in her eyes as she treats you like just another maid set to work for the king instead of a captive. 
It is only after the 7th yawn of the morning she asks about the poorly covered bags under your eyes. You had gone to bed with the rest of the girls, there is no reason you should be so tired. You never appear to be, at least it is not shown around others.
You struggle with yourself for a moment, trying to decide whether the night before was meant to be kept as a closely guarded secret to your chest. Yet one look at your closest confidant had you spilling everything. 
The entire night– the stars, the flowers, the way he prattled on. How tight he gripped your dirty, calloused hand against his pristine soft ones. 
You feel strange speaking of it, remembering it in any way. It causes your cheeks to heat and a fury to settle below your ribs. 
It is a strange feeling, yet not an entirely unwanted one. 
Your eyes train to the floor as you spill your soul, unable to keep it in once it starts pouring out. You try to keep your tone as neutral as possible– to tell her about the night as if it was a simple news story you heard from a guard. Though, you’re unsure of your success in the matter. 
A poised laugh leaves the lips of your counter, her eyes cresting into half-moons. 
“You cannot be serious right? You tell stories.” She giggles, shaking her head before continuing her assault on the floor. 
You simply shake your own. 
“It happened, I was as shocked in the moment as you seem to be now.” She lets out a small bellow of giggles once again. 
“No, no. I believe it happened entirely. I’m only talking about the fluster of your face.” She giggles, lifting her rag and shaking it for dramatic effect. You roll your eyes, cracking a small smile.
“There is no such thing.” You laugh knowing that there is. 
“Oh my heavens. Y/n, you cannot tell me you’ve grown fond of the Prince, have you?” Her words are hushed now, much more so than before. As if someone may be listening to the conversation. 
You tense in reply, unsure of the answer yourself. The closest you’ve ever felt to fondness of another man was a stable boy a few years back. Only 17 at the time, head wrapped in romance novels that you didn’t entirely understand. He was handsome and he was kind. However just as you were starting to become closer to him, he was sent away to work at another palace. 
You had not been optimistic since then.
She takes your silence as an answer in itself. Moving towards you, gripping your shoulders and hauling you to sit on your haunches. Forcing you to look at her face as she speaks. 
“You cannot be serious.” She repeats again, hoping for any sign of doubt. All she receives is bewilderment in reply, “Y/n. You can never trust Prince Kim.” 
You sigh, “I know, Anne, I–” You’re cut off with her own voice again.
“No, not in the way you’re imagining.” She sighs, letting her hands drop from your shoulders to continue scrubbing at the floor. Making work of herself as she speaks, “The other maids don’t tell you of much, do they?” 
You can’t deny it. Your seclusion within the castle walls is only partly of your own design. 
Other maids do not feel as though they can trust you, seeing as you are full property of the crown. In their eyes, you hold not a crumb of loyalty to your own kind. Few maids speak to you like Annabell does for fear the second they say anything wrong you are going to tell the world. 
You would never, though your word is worth its weight in feathers to them.
“They don’t care for me as you do… no…” You admit, continuing to clean as well. She already knew the answer, letting out an exhale before she speaks.
“Prince Kim has a pension for… debauchery… I shall say,” She flinches at her own words, yet doesn’t know a better way to put it, “The variety in which he uses pretty words to seduce young ladies to bed with him. Royalty from other lands, general’s daughters, maids. It matters not. He likes them for the night then pretends they shall never exist again.” 
Each word she speaks sends another stab into your gut. A dull pain blooming from the same places which a swirling was forming before. 
Ah. It all makes sense now. 
“Oh.”
“He has a particular fondness for the other maids, you know. Bedding them without a second thought.” A grimace forms on your friend's lips, scrubbing harder into the already shining floors, “There is no reason to form any sort of affection for that man. It will only end with his seed inside your core and a knife in your heart.” 
Yes, everything she is saying makes perfect sense. You feel almost stupid to not see it before. Maybe you just didn’t want to see it– want to think about it in any sort of fashion. But this makes much more sense than the crown prince wanting to speak to you for any other purpose. Explains why he was acting as a true gentleman to someone so much lower than him. 
However, you find that it does not take away the cavernous pit that has formed in your gut. 
“I see, I have no desire for either.” You nod your head in understanding, not sure of what else to say. “I don’t understand why he’s taken an interest in me, though.” 
She gawks, “I don’t understand why it has taken him so long to in the first place.” She shakes her head.
“Nevertheless, it doesn’t matter. Y/n, you must promise me. You will not fall for him, nor give any part of yourself to him. He is not someone that will care for you like you deserve.” She states, blue eyes piercing icicles into your own. She is determined and will not relent until you agree.
“I do not wish to. Not after hearing all of…” You make some sort of motion with your hand, “that. Anyone would be a fool to like him.” 
You nod your head while Annabell smiles in agreement. 
“Good.” 
Those are the last words you exchange with anyone for hours. The rest of the day passed by with lightning, an endless turnstile of things to take care of. A ball was to be held soon meaning the castle would be a wreck for the next few days. Too much planning, cleaning, sewing, coordination had to take place before anyone could rest. 
Honestly, you were grateful for it. A break from thinking was much needed. As is a good night’s rest. 
You sigh, already imagining how lovely it would feel to pull off your shoes for the day. Peel the cotton off your body and replace your dress with something more comfortable. 
Oo! Hopefully enough warm water will be left for a quick bath. That would be just wonderful, your muscles would be able to unfurl. The perfect thing to lull you into a glorious sleep.
Your arms stretch over your head as you finish descending the staircase into the maid hallways. Bones in your back pop from the pressure, causing a sigh to make its way from your lungs. Your nimble fingers make their way to the ribbon holding your hair in place, untying it and allowing the tresses to fall. 
Soon you would be in the maid resting quarters– your appearance would matter not there anyway. 
You send small smiles to other staff members passing you, those that have either just woken for the night or those who still have work to do. Yet in return, each one of them just stares at you with an incredulous look. Turning and whispering to their friends as if you were not still in front of them. 
You can’t help to understand why. Those around you may not have considered you a friend, but they were never rude. Always polite when need be. It has you feeling strange, some type of nervousness as you get closer and closer to the hallway extending to the maids personal rooms. 
Rounding the corner, you discover exactly why. 
His frame looks entirely out of place standing there. A perfect, pristine picture in a hallway of drab, illuminated only by the lanterns hanging on the wall. Royal blue tunic draped on his shoulders only emphasising his status. 
He looks as though he was never meant to be here. Like a mistake was made along the cobblestone walls. No, he looks as though he is meant to be among the living. Not in your dreary, windowless life. Nothing could change that. 
You stand there frozen, a deer caught in the lanturn of a hunting party. A pounding of your heart, as well as the dark swell of your gut coming back to life. Why is he here? Why the hell does he have a bouquet of flowers?!
You wish to scream, but you don’t. You have already been caught. 
His eyes look up from where he created a small pile of dirt on the floor. His face coming alight in an instant, pushing himself to full stature from where he once leaned against the wall. Long legs making their way towards you while he suddenly has the decency to hide the bouquet behind his back. 
Annabell certainly did not mention this method of Prince Kim’s seduction. You had never seen him down here before. 
“Hi.” Is all he says once he is finally face to face with you. His face bright and youthful. Excited.
It seems all formalities have been dropped in his mind, though you refuse the notion. 
“Prince Kim.” You simply reply, lowering yourself in a curtsy. 
He pays no mind, almost pretending you never did it in the first place. Instead, he simply rocks back and forth on his heels, bouncing slightly in delight. Wanting something, unable to voice it. 
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, hoping to end the encounter swiftly to stop all of the prying eyes leering into your being. 
“I brought you something.” His eyes do not break contact with yours once and you can see his hand twitch by his side as if it wants to reach out for something. You're glad he has the decency to hold back, so you shall do the same by pretending you never saw the flowers in the first place. 
You choose not to ask yourself why he brought you a present. It must just be a trick of seduction.
“I am honoured to accept such a thing.” You send a small smile his way, something between real and fake. It seems to make him beam. 
His arm comes out from behind, holding the flowers between both of your bodies. You look down at them, shock written across your features. 
Sure, you had noted them as flowers before. But you think these may be the prettiest ones you’ve seen in your whole life. Petals of orange, white, and purple cloud in your eyes. Stomatas filled with the sweet pollen.
Lilies. All different kinds– ones you’ve never seen before.
They’re out of season, at least you think they are. How did he get these? Why is he giving them to you? Why is he trying to get the butterflies to return? Why is he trying to make your heart explode?
“Prince Kim…” You’re not sure what to say– instead gently reaching out to feel the velvet of a petal. Staring intently at their colours, unable to pull your eyes away. 
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” His voice is a husk of a whisper, as if you’re the only two in the hallway. As if other maids are not passing, as if they are not staring at the two of you.
“Yes… I… I’m not sure what to say.” It is all so hypnotic. 
“Thank you would be a good beginning, no?” His smile is soft, a light chuckle present in the tone.
You pause, tilting your head to look up at him fully– a large, real smile donning your lips.
“Yes. Thank you.” 
You feel as if you are floating, just as you would when reading those romance books in your late teen years. Like the world has stopped moving save for the prince in front of you slowly passing the flowers into your arms. 
Your hands brush against each other and you feel his fingers twitch, tightening ever so slight. Wishing to grab onto your hand just as he had done the night before. Wishing to insect every line that traces over your fresh once more.
However, he refrains. Allowing his ringed fingers to sink themselves into his pockets.
“I was just going to have them delivered. I’m not really meant to be down here, you know,” His smile is shy, “But I didn’t know your room. That, and I wanted to see you again.” 
You look down, unable to keep the eye contact he presses you for. Prince Kim is too much for you. You don’t understand how he couldn’t be too much for anyone. 
“Oh…” You’re a flush, “Thank you for saying that.” 
“It is nothing to thank me for.” He chuckles, bangs dimming the hues of his eyes, “I’m sure I bored you with all of my ramblings.” 
He did, partly, but that was more discombobulation for the situation and a sense of tiredness creeping into your bones. You shake your head quickly.
“Of course not. I had.. Fun.” Mayhaps fun isn’t the right term, yet there is no word that exactly describes your emotions of last night, nor the ones of today.
“As did I.” His lips are tight in a smile again, feet bouncing on their heels once more. He’s nervous, wants to say something again but isn’t sure how.
You’re not sure how to feel about learning what that habit means. Not sure how to feel about what any of this means. You have not had a moment alone to truly dissect what all of it is. 
“I would love to spend the night talking to you again, if you would allow me.” You don’t think you would love anything more, yet you know you would not be able to function. Would probably make a fool of yourself, too. 
“I-I think it would be best if I were to get some rest… I had not even an hour before I had to start working last night.” 
He frowns, “That’s not good for your health…” He pauses, searching your face for any signs of distress, “Then let's talk in your room. I will only stay until you sleep.” 
You pause, air drifting back into your lungs.
Ah. Right. 
The words of your friend sink in once again, breaking you out of whatever trance he had put you under. Whatever spell he laced through both of your ears to have you singing songs of praises for him and the crown. 
He wants you as a notch in a bedpost. Nothing more. It is clear as day and you are a fool to think anything other than that. This is all just a cleverly rehearsed show. You will not fall victim like your mother. 
All royalty is the same. Use use use. Beat a dead horse until it stops coughing up any sort of reprise. 
Your posture is suddenly tense, fist gripping the flowers so tight your knuckles appear white. 
How dare he think so low of you. How dare he think he might be able to fuck you for nothing. 
“Men are not allowed in the women's private quarters.” Your voice is staunch, though it is not as if he can tell nor cares. 
If he does, he doesn’t show it. 
“Ah,” The lilt is still evident in his tone, the cat playing with the mouse, “But I am not any man, am I?” His body leans a bit closer, pulling his face parallel to your own. Smirk playing on his lips. 
Beauty is a deceptive thing, isn’t it? “When I am king I’ll make it so I can see you whenever we both desire.” Something heats in your gut at those words, yet anger quells it just as fast. 
“It is a shame that you are not King yet, then.” You nod politely in his direction, trying to excuse yourself. Yet your words only seem to excite something in his eyes, lighting a fire behind them. 
“My, I didn’t know you felt that way.” He smiles coy. A flustered sensation overcomes you as you realise the double meaning behind your words. You had made it sound like you wanted him in that way when that could not be farther from the truth.
“I do not.” You state, your voice ice. Though once again, it seems that it does not pierce him. 
“There is no reason to be so cold, Y/n.” He sing songs, tapping one of his long fingers against the side of his head. 
“I am not being cold! You are just not listening.” You sigh in exasperation. Exhaustion and annoyance make you forget yourself, causing your volume to rise just as his own does. This only seems to excite him more. 
“I have heard enough.” He giggles, boyish and what others would describe as cute. Right before you’re able to argue back once again, he cuts in with his own voice once more.
“I will leave you for now. Find a pretty place for the flowers.” 
He smiles generously at you, beginning to walk away, “Have a good night. I’ll see you soon.” 
In your shamble of a disposition, you’re left stuck there. Staring at his back as he retreats down the hallway. 
The shock of everything that had just transpired coming over you all at once. How poorly you had behaved. How you spoke to him. He could have you killed for any one of those things however instead he left you with a bouquet of flowers and a promise for another night. 
You scramble to find yourself, to move yourself from out of the eyeline of every other maid. To make your way to your room, your one sanctuary as quickly as possible. 
It is only when you’re in those walls, hard oak door shut firmly beside you that you have to remind yourself of your promise to your best friend. Remember that the prince fights his battles with words and emotions. 
Your second meeting with the man had left you even more confused than the first. Thousands of questions and emotions real through your bones at a pace your brain can’t manage to understand. Leaves you fuming, trying to form a single coherent thought as you analyse the last two nights with a ferocity unimagined. 
In your state, however, you neglect to think of the one question that should be dancing before you, held on a string just out of reach. 
Why did he know your name? 
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It is apparent that since that night, Prince Kim has located which room you find habitance in. 
This morning, another letter has found itself slipped under the base of your door. They have become commonplace now– letters detailing apologies for why he was unable to visit, what he had gone about on his day, his regrets that he has not heard back from you in what feels like ages. 
He’s tried to speak to you a few times in the palace when you work. His eyes always trained on you with something you’re unable to describe when you clean nearby. 
You wish you could say it was perverse in manner, but it was nothing of the sort. 
Every once and awhile you would catch a lily pinned to his breast pocket. He would send you a secret smile whenever it caught your attention. As if it was a tale meant for only the two of you to know. As if he wanted to carry a portion of you with him.
You may be naive in saying so, nor do you have much experience in the matter, but these do not feel like the actions of a man who simply wishes to find home under your dress. These feel more personal. More extravagant than anything else. 
Nevertheless, you ignore every single advance. Annabell made you promise, and it was a promise you were intent on keeping until your dying breath. 
Put the letters away in a box, never to be responded to. Avoided looking at him whenever he was near. Rushed out of rooms when it appeared he was intent on  making his war for you.
Icing out the prince is what is best. Whatever lilies he will wilt and die and you will be able to continue on with your hatred of the Kim family as well as your blood pact with the throne. 
You only wish it was that easy.
“Y/n!! Miss Y/n!!” There is a scramble outside of the door, voices hailing for your presence. You don’t know why– you’re on wash duty. Anyone, unless they’re extraordinarily new, would know that. 
The voice grows more erratic, more panicked. As if their life depends on finding you in that very moment. The other maids in the quarters send their glaces to you, urging you to go yet not one opens their mouths. 
At least one bonus of endenturing your entire life to the palace is that you have grown in rank. More than 10 years has granted you a decent position. 
A hushed sigh slips past your lips and your hands find themselves forcing the pile of sheets into the washing tub. Your hands quickly wipe away at your apron, ridding them of any moisture before pushing open the door. 
Stepping into the hallway lined with stone you notice only a single girl. Her entire form shaking as she paces the hall– panicked. Blonde curls bouncing with every step, cheeks a fluster. 
A new recruit, indeed. Celley is the name she wears. 
She had just entered with the last batch of new maids, starting at the palace no more than 2 months ago. She was a recruit you were unsure of– not having a lick of grace or balance, nor any experience with serving. But you suppose there are many reasons maids are chosen. 
You do not like to think of them.
Her feet are suddenly clamouring over to you, noticing your presence for the first time since you’ve stepped in the hallway. Her small, shaking hands grip your shoulders, holding you with all the will she seems to possess. 
“Excuse me have you seen–” She stops herself, tiny pants pausing as her eyes go wide, “Oh my days! Miss Y/n! You must hurry!” She rushes, hand gripping your wrist as she tries to pull you away. 
Though your face twists in confusion, your feet remain firm. 
“What’s the matter?” You ask, both sympathy and concern entering your frame. You can admonish her later for her lack of manners, however now, the girl seems truly frightened. Her large steel eyes looking back at you, pleading. 
“The crown prince! He’s!” She’s out of breath once again, continuing to try and urge you on.
This time, the second the word prince is muttered, you begin to follow her pace, “He’s lost his mind! He’s going on a firing spree! Locking up anyone who tries to calm him!” 
“What? Why is that? Did something happen?” You ask hushed, urging the girl to keep her voice down. Though you both are similar in age, it is apparent who has experienced this type of thing before. 
“He got into some kind of spat with his father. His instructor was fired when he tried to continue on with their lesson.” It seems she understood your message, continuing to hurry you down the halls. 
“And what am I meant to do?” 
“I-I don’t know!” She lets out a quiet yelp, pulling you closer as you exit the maid hallways and enter the palace ones, “His personal maid is away visiting family. She said to leave everything to you if something were to happen! I-I didn’t know what else to do!” 
Damn Eleanor and everything she stands for. Why the hell did she have to bring your name into this?! Shouldn’t the head maid be called in times like this?! Not you, someone who wants nothing to do with any member of the royal family. Especially the crown prince himself. Sure, there must be rumours spreading around but you had managed nearly three weeks without speaking to him!
You let out a sigh, squaring your shoulders in an attempt to appear more confident, more put together. You will do this, and you will come out victorious. Every battle before has left you victor. What is one more?
“I understand. It will be dealt with.”
The least you can gain is the idyllic picture of the prince to be shattered forever. That would be the most ideal outcome, something to truly force him out of your heart for good. You will not fall prey to him and his earthly desires. He will not win your heart. 
At least that is what you hope. 
The throne room's doors stand before you, delicate lacings of gold worth more than your entire being etched into its surface. A glittering picture for what is sure to be a bloodbath behind its contents. 
A deep inhale of warm air fills your lungs, hand pressing against the door as you force it open. Face someone you have not wanted to see nor extinguish the flames of in nearly a month. 
He stands before you, 20 paces ahead. A broken bottle in his hand as he heaves, shoulders rising and falling with the passion of ten thousand suns. The look of murder in his eyes as he stares down at a maid, her form on the ground. Bowing with as much might as she can possess, looking for any exit possible. Few other maids stand around the room, keeping their heads low, avoiding any eye contact possible. 
Though he looks like a mad man– mayhaps a god of war himself, not a single hair is out of place on his head. He is still the picture of sovereignty. And though your breath spikes, you find that you are not afraid. 
What a strange feeling it is.
The creak of the door sends single to him, has him whipping his head to face you. Anger etched into his features, a new target befalling his sight.
You stand tall, moving towards him. You will rise to the position given to you, even if it shall mean your inevitable downfall. As long as the new staff are safe.
Only, when he looks to you, no wrath is found. No anger or deceit. The second his eyes meet your own, his expression drops along with the bottle in his hands. More glass littering the floor in its wake. 
His eyes soften, his lips turning from a sneer into a gentle frown. His shoulders automatically lower, and suddenly it appears that there is no one else in the room. His legs move automatically, carrying themselves to you with such a hurried pace you would have thought he had seen a long lost friend. 
Oddly, this scares you more than when he was angered. 
You start into a bow, “Prince Kim, I’ve come in place of–” 
His arms wrap themselves around you before you can speak another word. Pulling you in, wrapping you into his scent as you're pressed against his sturdy chest. Strong arms keep you in place as he tries to make his body become one with your own. 
His face buries itself into the crook of your neck, one hand raising to tie itself in your hair. It forces you to stay in place, stay attached to him just the way he wants you to be. Allows him to inhale, breathing in all of you. Finally delving into the scent that he has been craving.
Your eyes only widen, hands staying firm at your side in shock. Heart beginning to race, head becoming lost in the soaps that only a member of a family could possibly own. 
You’re not sure what to do. How to behave. As far as you are concerned or aware, this is something that no other has had happen before. At least not so openly. Not so brazenly in front of a myriad of other people. 
But, it seems to calm him. To placate him in a way you’re not sure anyone could explain. 
You try to make a small twisting motion with your hand, try to urge everyone else to leave while they have the chance. 
They seem to take it, exiting the room as fast as possible. 
You’re sure word of this will spread throughout the castle quickly. You hope the consequences will not be dire. 
“Prince Kim–” You begin to speak after everyone has cleared out, after he holds you for what feels like a lifetime. You can’t find it in you to want him to pull away, no matter how embarrassing this seems. 
“Shh,” He quickly silences you with a gentle press of his lips to your pulse, “Let me stay like this for a moment.” 
You are unable to move. Unable to breathe after he kisses you. War could begin in that very moment and you’re not sure you would have noticed in the slightest. You are stunned into obeying his whim as he simply inhales and exhales. 
The umber in his voice only comes after a millennia, after his shoulders have completely sagged. After all the tension is removed from his body. 
“You didn’t respond to my letters.” He still doesn’t pull away, his grip on your hair tightening a fraction. 
You pause.
“I…I didn’t know where to send them.” You lie and his hand loosens. The correct answer. 
“My study. Put them under the door to my study.” He instructs like a king would. 
You’re not sure why the tone of his voice sends shocks to your gut. Pooling into something you only find in your dreams.
“But if someone were to see them–” 
“Let them.” Mumbles in your ear to you and you alone, a growl practically spiking through his voice, “I want them to know.” 
Oh. This is new. This is definitely new. This is not the same way you felt with the stable boy years ago. This has become something entirely alienating. A completely different beast. You know that now as his baritone voice sends waves straight through your gut. 
You simply nod in reply, your mouth unwilling to say anything back. The arm around your lower back grows more firm.
“Tell me where you will put your replies.” He commands into your ear. 
“Under the door to your study.” Your reply is automatic, years of answering to the kingdom evident in your tone. 
He sighs, unfurling his fingers from your locks to gently pet the top of your head, “Good girl.”
He presses a kiss to your forehead, soft as he touches you.
“Good lamb.”
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You sigh, fingers deftly searching through your wardrobe for just a single pair of underwear. But once again, you turn up empty. It seems like every day that passes, another pair disappears without your knowledge. 
Perhaps one of the new girls is causing a fuss, messing up the laundry for everyone else. 
That is the only logical solution, at least. 
But logic doesn’t seem to make much sense at all anymore. You couldn’t hope to understand why few of your other belongings have come up indignant as well. 
Your favourite perfume, one of your stuffed animals, even your toothbrush! All have magically vanished from thin air over the course of the last week. 
It is too bad that you haven’t had the time to think about it, either. Preparations for the ball have been raging throughout the palace. Everyone has been on their toes, unwilling to face the wrath of the planners as they try to make everything perfect. 
You have had not one moment alone to think, either swept up in cleaning, decorating, or well… recently you and the prince have been going on walks through the garden at night. Though that doesn’t matter much. It doesn’t mean anything– just another thing he made you promise to. Claiming he wishes to spend as much time with you as he can. 
His recent fixation is trying to get you to call him by his true name. 
You would never dare, nothing is more inappropriate than such a title. It is something only his most beloved is meant to call him, and that person is certainly not you.
You try to force any thoughts of him out of your head, though it is clearly a fruitless endeavour. Especially with the dream you had the night prior. 
His hands finding themselves between your legs, touching you in a way no other has. 
You flush, quickly shaking all thoughts of the night away. 
The tea! Your tea, yes. A prescription from the doctor for this very thing.
More often than not, you wake to find a mess between your thighs. Sticky arousal between them in a perverse fashion. The region sensitive and overstimulated combined with a mess of dreams. More sexual in nature than ever before.
Embarrassed, you had turned to the only person you could trust. The palace staff’s doctor. 
She had told you it was normal– that you were simply having what she described as ‘wet-dreams’. The title alone made you feel embarrassed.
Nevertheless, she prescribed you a tea to help calm your nerves. It was meant to be passifying in nature, calming any lush desires you may have beginning to form. 
You were not sure how it functioned, however you trusted her. Found that it quelled whatever fire burned inside of your heart for the time being. 
Perhaps just a new oddity to add to your reality, you suppose. 
Finally, you find a proper set of undergarments to pull over your legs. Letting out a breath in relief now that you finally have them. 
Today is going to be busier than the last month combined– the ball is tonight. You know for a fact you will be rushed around the palace all day, fixing everything into an acute sense of perfection that only the Kim family is known for. 
You reach to spray your second favourite  perfume across your skin, only to find that the bottle has gone missing as well.
Your hairs stand on edge, a dark pit forming in your stomach.
It is all too strange for you to want to understand. 
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Okay, now you’re sure Annabell must be wrong. She has to be, right? There is no other conclusion possible. 
The thoughts run through your head as you pace the small confines of your room. Thumb between your lips, biting the skin feverishly. Contemplating what it is exactly that you should do. A heavy box sitting on your bed, a letter laying next to it along with a single lily.
A month ago, you met Prince Kim in the gardens. A month ago you spoke to him all night long. A month ago he brought you flowers. He has been leaving you letters ever since. Three weeks ago he held you in his arms, made you promise to write him back. Made you promise to meet him in the gardens as many nights as you can. 
But this, you could not accept. You could not possibly think this is real. Why has he gifted you something like this?
A dress lays on your bed. The most gorgeous dress you have ever seen, in fact. Lined with crystals and gems, many layers of tulle poof from the underskirt. It must’ve cost a fortune, but it was not meant for you.  It is a dress meant for a princess, not a simple maid of the palace. Not… Not someone the prince simply wanted to bed. 
So why did it lie here, along with a lace mask and a pair of shoes. Why did it come with a note from the Prince, telling you to put it on for tonight's events? Is this why the head maid dismissed you so early?
No. You could not. You will not make a fool of yourself. You do not belong up there, dressed as a princess when you are far from the thing. That is your decision. It will be the one you stick to.
Even as hours tick past on the clock, even as you can hear the night in full swing, you stay locked in your room. Feeling the same as you did when you were a girl locked in the dungeon all those years ago. Helpless, indignant, stubborn. 
Lost in your thoughts as you try to piece together a puzzle that has several spaces missing. Feelings for the stable boy– life with him, it would have been easier than this. You’re sure of it. 
You allow yourself to imagine what life could have been like if he stayed. It would have been a cosy, peaceful. A straightforward one that didn’t leave so many questions in your head. Jungkook was always like that, spoke his mind without leaving anything to be guessed. You adored it, wished you could revel in it now. Wish you could kiss him under the cherry tree once more.
A pounding wakes you from the dream you were just beginning to weave. Loud, angry knuckles against the firm oak of your door startling you to your feet in an instant. Chills running down your spine as if your body already knew who was behind it. 
You wait too long to reply, another series of rapts following in quick succession. You’re in trouble. You’ve angered the prince in a way you’re not sure you’ll be able to find your way out of, but you have no choice. He knows your inside. You know you must face him. You must be brave.
Right before another series of knocks can echo against the walls, you finally pull the door open. 
There stands the man you knew would be there all along, sculpted like the lord had made him himself. You wish you could behold him properly, to stare at his beauty in the suit specially prepared for this night. One he asked your opinion of several times during its construction.
But you are unable to, not when his shoulders heave like a bull planning its charge. Not when his eyes are narrowed into a glare that enters your soul without consequence. Never before had you felt his anger directed at you. 
The future king would be a fearsome thing. 
“It appears you are not dead.” He states, cold and detached in a way you have never heard before. It makes you feel small, feel weak. Though by now, you know he wants an answer. He will not accept the lack of one from you anymore. 
You shift uncomfortably on your feet, “I suppose not…” 
“Then what do you suppose.” You flinch. You’re not sure.
“I– Prince Kim…” 
“Taehyung.” He interjects, though you ignore him. Only his future wife is meant to call him by that name.
“Prince Kim, I could not possibly accept this gift. You have to understand.” The way he looks at you makes you want to shrink. To appear as small as possible to placate the lion you’ve wondered into the den of. 
“I do not. You are to accept any gift I am to give you.” He is stern as if lecturing the ground beneath him. He looks massive in your tiny room, taking up much more space than you wish to grant him.
You begin to grow frustrated, annoyed. Does he have no sanity? Does he really think it is okay to play with the hearts of women so carelessly? It is disgusting. Repulsive even! You do not deserve anything like this. You begin to grow tense, grow firm like a wolf cornered. Ready to lash out with no remorse. 
That is what you are, anyway. A cornered animal with no hope to escape. 
“I won’t.” You raise your shoulders, stand taller and stare him straight in the eyes. If this will have you sent to the axe then so be it. 
He grows just as tense in reply, his lips forming a sneer as he takes a step closer towards you. 
Never before has Prince Kim been opposed like this before, you’re sure of it. The way his irises become darker is proof. 
“And why is that, lamb?” He mocks, and the fire inside of you only begins to glow brighter Of course, you’re just the lamb that's wandered into the lion's den. The lamb being prepared for meal. 
Steam clouds around your head, jaw becoming tense as you try to hold back your rage. Rage for your mother, rage for the life she was taunted into the same way the prince is trying to do to you now.
“I will not become another woman you bed and then lay waste to!” You practically shout, unable to hold back your emotions anymore. 
His nostrils flare, “Excuse me?” 
“You heard my words.” You state back, indignant, “I will not be an idiot. I will not become another woman who you use for your own pleasures!”
You hear him scoff, head turning away from you for the first time as he looks around your room. 
“You think that little of me?” His eyes make their way back to you, his face having the expression of somewhat… hurt? 
Suddenly, you’re unsure. You feel stupid all over again though you’re not entirely conscious as to why. You hurt him? How could you possibly hurt the most powerful person in the country? 
You falter in your stance, and it is obvious that he takes notice. Uses it to his advantage as he takes another step closer, makes his hand find your own. His thumb brushing soothingly over the knuckle. His hands are always so soft. 
“What else am I meant to think? I’ve heard the stories, Prince Kim.” Where once was fire lays blistering coals. Hot to the touch yet unyielding in their passion. The air in the room has changed in much the same way.
“Tell me of them.” He asks you, his voice now gentle, soft. 
It is strange, the complete change he’s had since first entering your room. Has your brain going a little haywire. Especially with the way he stares at your hands. Like they could be locked forever. 
“I…” You feel flush, embarrassed to mutter the words in front of the prince, “I’ve heard you seduce women… princesses, noblemen’s daughters, maids… the lot. Then you abandon them the next morning with your seed in their core and a knife in their heart.” 
You keep your eyes to your feet, face feeling hot by repeating the words of your friend. You refuse to look at him, you cannot take the embarrassment. 
A light chuckle leaves his lips, a hand coming up to attempt to muffle them, “Sorry, sorry.” He shakes his head, a playful glint in his eyes. You’re baring your soul to him! How dare he laugh! 
He coughs to muffle the rest of the sound, returning to the moment, “I apologise. I just had the realisation. You’re jealous of them, aren’t you lamb?” 
A mess of flutters takes up your stomach, your shoulders raising in alarm. Your lips open to try and form words, to try and deny the allegations made your way, yet you are entirely unable. 
Especially with the way he moves closer, crowds your space with such ease. Leads close to you, whispers words in your ear, voice lower than before. 
“You wish it to just be you I lay with, is that so?” You can practically hear the smile in his voice as another, more erotic chill finds its way down your spine. 
“Th-That isn’t–” You try to speak, but your voice sounds as light as air. He moves closer, arm carrying itself around your back, pulling you flush against him as he speaks sinful words. Words only for you. 
“Ah…” He sighs in relief, lips practically touching your ear once you’re finally connected to him, “You don’t like it when I go fuck your friends then come to spend my nights talking to you… writing to you… touching myself to the thought of you.” 
You cannot take it. You cannot take this, take him. Your head is spinning, clouding with the drug known as Prince Kim. Your knees feel weak, your limbs feel all too heavy. How can someone so pretty say such sinful words without a second thought. It’s too much. Far more than your poor little heart can take.
Your arms come up, press as firm as they can against his chest despite how weak they feel.
“Mmm…?” He asks in response, pulling back to look down on your face. Mock confusion spread across his features. He takes a step back, pretending to look you up and down. Like he is just playing a game of poker while all of your tells are as clear as day. 
“Or is that not what you wish?” He asks, head tilted to the side like a confused puppy, “You would like things to remain the same?” He smiles, drawing conclusions all on his own. 
He pauses, waits for you to say something, anything before continuing. But you do not, so he will keep playing this game by himself. 
“Then I shall go find someone to keep me company for the night. Mmm..” He taps his chin in contemplation, turning on his heels, meanwhile panic and dread fills every facet of your being, “What were those ones you’re friends with again? Celley? That pretty blonde? Oh, or maybe Annabell. I’m sure she would be prepared to go for a second round.” 
What? What? No, No! What is he talking about? Why is he starting to walk away?! Wait, Annabell, second time?! She has before?! 
Oh heavens, oh gods. 
“Anyway, I'll be sure to write to you after. Have a good night, dream of me.” You begin to hyperventilate as he takes one step out the door. No, he can’t leave. You don’t want him to. You don’t want him to be with anybody else. You can’t let it happen. You can’t afford such a thing! Ever! That is not where he is meant to be! 
Your body carries you before your mind does. Hand slipping out, gripping onto the back of his coat with all of the strength you can muster. Feet planted firm in your room, doing everything in your power to not let him leave.  
It is really too bad you do not see the sick smile that forms on his lips. Maybe then the pieces of the puzzle would have finally clicked in place. 
Instead he only tilts his head backwards, painting a complexion of boredom.
“N-No! I don’t want that!” You finally manage to stutter out, knuckles turning white with the strength you hold onto him. Afraid if you let go in the slightest he will pull away and disappear forever. “I don’t want you to be with other women!”
The silence that follows your confession feels a mile long. 
“Then go put on the dress.” Out of any response there could be, that certainly was not the one you were anticipating. 
“What…?” 
His chin tilts in the direction of it, urging you on, “If that is the truth, then go put on the dress.” 
“I…” You hesitate for only a moment, but scramble to motion once the prince turns to leave once again. 
You make quick paces to your bed, keeping your back to him. You feel his eyes on your back, intent on giving you no privacy to ensure you follow through on his order. 
In fact, all he does is close the door behind you. Making sure no one will be able to see in. No one will be able to watch you save for him. 
You slowly peel off the cotton of your nightgown, trying to appear brave even though his eyes are trained on your form. Even if your slip still remains on, you have never been this uncovered in front of a man before. You feel entirely bare. 
You do not look at him as you finally find your way through the tool, slipping the garment over your head with struggle, yet his face is practically predatory. 
You don’t know his plans, or what he wishes to gain. You never do. 
As the fabric settles over your hips, half of you wants to question how the size is perfect, but you refrain. Too embarrassed by everything else to even consider it an option. Your hands reach behind you to attempt to lace up the back on your own, yet another pair are already present in their place.
When did he get so close? How did he get so close without you hearing a thing? Your heartbeat must be the only sound in your ears, that must be it. 
His fingers work down your spine, tightening the dress so it fits you perfectly. Tying it off with skill you did not know he had. You feel his breath on the back of your neck. A fire begins to grow in your core. 
“I was going to present you to my father tonight.” He admits, placing a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, “The ball was meant to find my bride.” 
“Oh.” Those are the only words you can say when he is so close, arms enclosing around your waist. Pulling your back flush with his chest. 
Only words you can manage at the revelation.
“Imagine his disappointment, more so my own when the girl I had been speaking to him about did not show.” He grunts, almost as if it hurt him. Guiding your body to stand in front of the full mirror in your room. Asking– telling you to look at yourself. 
The sight is strange, yet incredible. The crown prince of the entire nation standing in your bedroom, in the maids quarters. Surrounded by squalor and chaos. Arms wrapped around a maid dressed as if she could be a queen. 
You look up at him to the best of your ability, regret plastered across your features, “Prince Kim–” 
“Taehyung.” 
“--I’m so sorry.” He does not look you in the eyes. They stay trained ahead, not straying once from the mirror. One hand rubbing small circles into the fabric covering your stomach, the other sliding to your waist.
He touches you without care, without reason. Feeling you against him for all that it is worth. 
“Actions have consequences, that is all. They can come later.” He states plainly, “For now I just wish to indulge in you.”
He brings his face down, placing it right next to yours. His hand rises, making your chin face the mirror as well. 
He forces you to make eye contact with him through it, forces you to understand each of his words clearly. 
“You’ll let me do that, won’t you?” 
You take a deep breath, gulping down all the air you can manage. You don’t think you’ve wanted anything more. 
With no more than a nod, his lips are on yours. 
Spinning you around, pressing your back against the mirror. His hands cupping your cheeks with such intensity you fear they may become etched into your skin forever. Keeping your lips closed against his own. 
His body cages you in, pressing entirely against you. Forming against you in perfect harmony, feeling two souls become one. Feeling each other fully for the first time– no pretence or public eye in the way to stop it. 
His teeth nip at your lower lip, biting in a way that has you opening them in pain. He takes the opportunity to lick his way inside, somehow pushing even closer to your body. 
Something hard presses against you and the discovery has your knees wishing to collapse. 
The prince can’t possibly be this big. He simply can’t.
The kiss has you reeling, unsure of anything. Unsure of what to do at all. It is nothing like your first kiss under the cherry tree with Jungkook. That was soft and sweet, docile as two people discover something new.
This, this is nothing of the sort. It is hungry. It is a beast that has been starved, finally getting its first meal. It is intoxicating. It is needy and desperate in a way that has your fingers trying to press themselves even deeper into the glass. It has your breath being robbed. Your lifeforce wilts away to satisfy only the prince. 
The groan he lets out as you finally give into him, finally allow him to take control of the kiss as arousal pools in your gut. It is one of the most deadly siren’s calls you think you’ve ever heard. One that would have any woman throwing themselves overboard for just a taste. 
“Finally,” He grunts, pulling no more than a millilitre away from your lips, wetness still connecting them, “My whole life I’ve been waiting for you.” He mumbles, hungrily connecting his mouth back to your own. 
Before you know it, you’re lost in the man once again. Allowing him to move you, to guide you to your bed without withdrawing from you once. Tangling your fingers into his hair, trying to make sure he doesn’t pull away. Making you drunk off of his taste, off of him. 
When he kisses you like this, you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to live without him. 
Your knees hit the frame of your bed and all of a sudden you're falling backwards onto its plush lining. Panting, trying to regain some of the air he stole from you.
For the first time you’re able to look up at him, to discover the mess that he has become. Cheeks red, lips swollen. Eyes dark and twisted with lust. Hair ruffled messily from where your fingers laid. Shoulders rising and falling with effort as he catches his breath as well. 
He looks gorgeous and you can’t help yourself hoping this will be only a sight for you forever. 
He leans down, pecking your lips once more, “I couldn’t stop myself from imagining this. Since the moment I placed an order for your dress.” 
He huffs, dropping to his knees in front of you. You sit up on your elbows, face twisted into confusion as you look down at him. 
God. It is too dangerous to look at him right now. You know that as another wave of heat runs straight to your core.
“Pushing up the future queen's skirt.” He groans, hands gaining purchase on your hips, pulling you down so your waist sits at the edge of the bed, “Letting myself have a taste of her while everyone else at the party danced.” 
O-Oh. Oh. He sees you as, oh god. 
His fingers bunch in the material of your skirt, drawing in a shaky inhale as he holds onto any drop of sanity left. 
When he sees no hesitation from you, he slowly begins to push the material up your legs. Eyes trained on your own, looking to you for any sign of discomfort. 
“Have her come undone on my tongue while no else was the wiser.” He groans as he finally comes face to face with your panty covered core. 
Your brain moves at a snail's pace, trying to keep up with every tiny movement the prince makes. Trying to process his words while your head becomes fuzzy with your own arousal. 
You feel like mush, so pliable in his grip.
His large hands slowly begin to part your thighs, to look at what he has been craving for so long when your brain catches up with you, embarrassment overcoming your being. 
“Y-You can’t! I-it is dirty to do such a thing.” At least, that is what you had been taught. Though, the look in his eyes and the growl from his throat tells you the opposite.
“You could never be dirty. No part of you could ever be.” The sound he lets out is more akin to an animal than anything else, and suddenly you feel like a schoolgirl. Flustered and embarrassed beyond anything else. 
The muscles of your thighs untense, the look on your face blushed and biting. 
“You will let me?” He asks again, and despite your embarrassment, you nod. He is going to be king… his word is rule afterall. He wishes it, so it will happen. You could not be more pleased to oblige. 
His grip on your thighs is more firm than before, blunt nails digging into soft flesh as he pries your legs apart. He lets a groan resonate from the back of his throat at the sight. Panties sticking to your center, wetness pooling just behind causing the material to almost become transparent before him. 
You did not know it was possible for a man to have such an effect on you. 
Without a second thought, he pushes the material down your thighs. His tongue licking a long stripe up your cunt, savouring the flavour for every cent it is worth. 
He moans at the taste, not wasting a second before he dives back in. Lapping against you like it is his last meal. 
A mewl leaves your lips, too many feelings crossing you at once for any of them to be worth anything. 
Embarrassment, shame, fear all vanish the moment his lips wrap around your clit, sucking against the small bundle of nerves in a manner that has your back arching against the bed. Fingertips digging into the sheets to find a second lease on life. 
You try to look down at him, to find him between all of your small pants of pleasure, however he is gone. Disappearing until the layers of fabric while he brings you sensations you never thought were possible. 
His tongue moves like it is made to pleasure only you. Taking turns flicking your clit to lowering into your center. Licking up any bit of arousal he can make out. Trailing up once again to press flat against the bundle of nerves.
All of it has your legs kicking, your breath melting. 
He is not quiet either, letting you know exactly how much he adores this. Adores the feeling of your thighs wrapped tight around his head. Adores every little sound and reaction you have to give him. Adores the taste of you on his tongue. It was only meant for him.
It feels like he has been wishing to do this far longer than you would ever know. Consuming you whole from the inside out. Causing you to become addicted, to desire him just as much as he carnally craves you.
His nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as your hips begin to rock against his face, seeking out every ounce of pleasure that he is willing to give you. Your adorable mewls and whines grow louder, peaking every time he sucks on your clit. 
A coil has begun to form in your gut, feeling as though it could snap at any second. You wish you could see him, to look at his face and see the crazed gleam in his eyes. Observe the exact look on his face as he licks your cunt. 
You try to picture it. Try to imagine the way he would look up at you from between your legs. The dark umber his eyes would become, the gentle circles he would rub into your thigh as you finally make eye contact. 
Your walls clench around his tongue, sending a new waves of whines out of your mouth. He somehow moves faster, more precisely with every movement. Like he is able to hone in on the exact things that have your thighs quivering. 
His tongue moves up, takes your small, worn clit into his mouth. Alternating between sucking against it, flicking at it, and pressing against it firm with the flat of his tongue. 
Without warning, nor any reprise, one of his thick fingers is thrust into your wet heat. Filling you in a way you have never been able to do to yourself. Stretching you. And all of a sudden, you’re flying off the edge of a precipice.
“Prince Kim!” Your back arches off of the bed, head thrown back against the mattress as you let out a moan. Your hips jolt, cunt squeezing around his fingers, heels digging into the floor as you come undone before him. 
He works you through it with ease and grace, finger slowly thrusting in and out. Tongue firmly planted against your clit to ride you through your high. 
It would not be your last of the night. He must be gentle. 
Slowly, you relax against the bed, chest heaving from exertion. He pulls away from you, standing to full height before leaning over your shaking form. 
Your arousal coats his face, a sheen from his lips and chin evident against the soft yellow glow of the room. He looks down at you, concern and adoration written across his features. Though in his eyes, it appears that the beast has yet to be quelled. 
He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You taste yourself against them. 
“You are delicious. I wish to eat you every night until I die.” He mumbles against your lips, his knee sliding between your legs. Muscle pressing against your swollen cunt. 
You try to flinch away, yet the hand on your hip keeps you in place. 
He will not have you running away. 
Not now. 
Your cheeks flush at his words, wide eyes looking up at him like he is all that matters. 
He is. 
He presses his knee further against your pussy while his lips trail down the column of your neck. Urging you towards the headboard with no words spoken until your head is against the pillows. 
Your arms wind their way around his neck, keeping him in place, “I-if we were married, I would let you.” You manage to speak, your voice shaky.
He only smiles in reply. Fingers digging deeper into your waist as if he is holding himself back.
“Then we shall call this practice for our wedding night.” He smiles, sitting back on his heels. 
Marriage, wedding night. You allow the thought to ghost through your mind, willing it to be reality. 
He smiles down at you, taking note in the way you seem to gleam at the idea. A small chuckle leaves his lips, you really are too cute for your own good. 
His voice is no more than a whisper, forcing you to stay enrapt, “You will let me, right?” He asks, eyes glancing down to where his pants strain against his hips, “I wish to make love to my future wife.”
Your mouth practically waters at the sight, his hard cock pressed taught against the expensive material. You swear there may even be a wet spot where his cum has leaked through. 
Your pussy clenches, wanting nothing more for him to find his way inside. For him to claim you for himself. Destroy you so no other man can have you in the same way.
You struggle against yourself for no more than a moment, but the way his hand reaches down, grips at his cock. Brushes his thumb over the surface has you moaning in want. 
“Please.” 
He smiles, the motion following swift. All at once his hands unbutton his pants, pushing the material down his thighs just enough for his cock to spring free. He groans at the feeling, thick length hitting his stomach. Pretty pre-cum dripping down the side.
Your eyes go wide. If you imagined him to be large before, seeing it now looked impossible. He is thick, long. Far too big to ever hope to fit inside of you. 
But the desperate groan in his voice, the hungry look in his eyes only has you spreading your legs. Wishing nothing more than for him to destroy you.
One hand wraps around the base as he moves closer, the other forcing the skirt of your dress as high as it will allow. He makes space for himself in between your thighs, slotting himself in. Ready to do what he has been waiting years for. 
Not yet.
He sees the hesitation in your eyes, the worry. So he leans down, planting a gentle, soothing kiss to your lips. One filled with years of time behind it. 
He knows he must be careful with you. Knows all of his patience will have been worth it when he is finally able to take your virginity. 
“Will it hurt?” You as quietly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close. You find comfort in him. Find a sense of safety within his eyes. 
He nods in response, “Only for a little while, I promise.” He mumbles against your lips, placing a soft kiss against them once more. 
He slowly rubs the fat head between your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Your hips buck slightly in response, and he can’t help but smirk. 
So sensitive. So ready for him. 
As much as he wants to be rough, he can’t. He can’t scare you away just yet. 
He looks into your eyes once more, “Ready?” He asks, giving you one final chance to back out. You only nod your head, pulling him close, hiding your face in his neck. 
His head catches on your opening with the final drag of his length through your lips. His hands practically shake in excitement, as he guides himself inside. Letting go only once the tip is buried within your walls. 
He feels your teeth sink into his coat, your body burning with the stretch of him. He only has the first inch inside, yet you think it is more than you could possibly take. 
A choked cry leaves your lips as he continues to slowly thrust inside. Your arms cling to him as tight as possible. Tears prick in the corner of your eyes as he fills you, forming your entire body just around him. Just around his cock. 
He pauses only once half of his cock is buried in your needy cunt. You feel his hand come up to caress your cheek, to bring you back down to reality from the pain you feel digging at your core. Trying to bring you some sense of comfort. 
You pull back from his shoulder to look him in the eyes, expecting to see them soft. Filled with concern. Though there is nothing of the sort there. 
Behind his bangs is only the look of pure insanity. 
Though he tries to be compassionate, he really does.
“Are you doing okay?” His voice is strangled, coming out in only desperate cracks. He shakes, wanting nothing more than to fuck himself inside. Fuck himself deeper and deeper, until your cunt is shaped for his cock alone.
But he holds restraint. Just enough.
The way he looks at you, the way he speaks has a wave of pleasure rushing through your  skin. Your walls clamp around him, tightening even more. 
He is falling apart before you, because of you. 
He has gone mad because of you.
The feeling only makes you want to urge him on. See just how far the prince can fall.
You nod your head, looking at him with all the affections in the world, “Don’t stop.” 
He groans at your words, mind losing itself as he snaps his hips forward, forcing his cock inside until his hips are firm against your own. Teeth digging into the fragile skin of your neck.
You cry out in pain, your walls squeezing around him in shock. Pain coursing through your entire system as you are filled to the brim. Walls stretched as wide as humanly possible. The head of cock so deep inside you swear you can feel it in your lungs. 
“Shit.” He groans, mouth falling open, “This pretty thing is wrapped around me so tight, lamb. So fucking tight I can’t think.” 
He slowly tries to move his hips, though you only shout in response. Your legs wrap around his back, doing their utmost to keep him in place.
“Hurts!” You whine, shaking your head quickly. 
Fucking hell. What is the point of a pussy as sweet as your own if he can’t use it properly?
His hand moves between your legs, growl of impatience slipping past his lips as his fingers find your clit. They work with urgency, with need. Rubbing tight circles into it, trying to get you to feel the same pleasure he does.
You whine, overstimulated. Shots fired in all directions leaving you messy and confused. 
With every circle, a mewl sounds from your throat. Slowly your legs behind him loosen, the pain from before mixing with pleasure to become something wonderful. Something that has you whimpering for him to not stop. 
“See?” He grunts, slowly slipping out of your heat until only the tip remains, “We were made for each other.” 
He forces his cock back inside, fucking you open just for him. Only ever for him. 
Your nails dig into his back, heels digging into the mattress as you moan for him. As your cunt becomes addicted to the feeling of him filling you so perfectly. Addicted to everything he has to offer.
He moves too fast, too hard for you to even hope to keep up with. Hips pistoning into you, forcing you to take everything he has to give and more. Forcing you to be the perfect little doll for him, give him all the pleasure he can want and more. White mixing with red around the base of his cock.
Your back arches off the mattress to try and get closer to him, to try and keep up with him in any hope of the sentiment. Hips trying their best to keep him as close and as deep as possible, knowing they crave one thing and one thing alone.
“Prince Kim!” You moan, yet he growls in response. A sharp slap to your thigh sounds throughout the room as his hips pause, fingers removing themselves from your clit. 
“That isn’t my name to you anymore.” His voice is low, menacing in your ear. One more poke of the bear and you will be punished. “Tae–Hyung.” 
He emphasises the words with a sharp thrust of his hips, one that brushes against the bundle inside of you. One that leaves you crying out for him. Clinging on to him. 
“Say it.” He grunts, animalistic and desperate. Yet you’re too lost in yourself to realise how debauched he’s become. Looking less and less like a man, more like a demon come to lay waste to your soul. 
That is close enough to the truth, anyway.
“Say it until it becomes the only word you know. Every question I ask, every time I fuck myself into this sweet little cunt. Your only reply should be my name.” He grabs your chin, forcing you to stare at him. 
Your fucked out little features as you bob your head in compliance.
“I-I” You swallow, trying to understand his words as he pounds away at your core, “I understand!” 
He smiles, almost proud of the work he has done today.
His hips only move impossibly faster, impossibly harder in a way that has that knot in your gut tightening once more. 
“We’ll start simple then. What is my name?” He asks, angling his hips to press against your sweet spot with ever slight movement. Breathe panting, his mind falling deeper and deeper into the thralls of your body. 
“P-Prin–” You stop yourself, a pinch coming down on your skin, “Taehyung!” 
He groans, almost coming undone as he hears your name fall from your  lips for the very first time. The pretty sound your voice makes with every letter. 
It could be the only thing he hears for the rest of his life.
“Who are you going to marry?” 
You whine, your head thrashing around slightly. He smiles. You must really enjoy the idea of that, huh?
“T-Taehyung!” You manage to stutter out again, feeling your release coming closer and closer as the seconds pass by. 
“Who is the man you have fallen for?” The answer to the question is easy, especially when he is fucking into you like you’re the only woman that matters. Nothing matters except for him. 
“Taehyung!” Your brain is too fuzzy to process anything else. Anything other than the way his cock fills you. Anything other than the one word he told you is your gospel. 
“Who is the boy that kissed you under the cherry tree?” You don’t even know anymore. 
Does any man exist beside Taehyung anyway? You doubt it.
“Taehyung!” He smiles into your neck. 
“Who was the boy that was going to have you killed? That saved your life?” His words don’t process through your ears, yet you know what you are meant to say anyway.
“Taehyung!” He groans, his hips stuttering, losing their pace ever so slightly. 
“Who do you belong to?” 
“Taehyung!” You whine, your thighs shaking. The coil so tight you think you may just die if it doesn’t come undone in this very moment. 
His breath is quiet, only a rough whisper in your ear, “Cum.” 
Just as your king commands, you fall apart around him. White dots in the corner of your eyes as you clamp down around him, your legs pulling him close. A cry of his name leaving your lungs as if it is the very air you breathe. 
You feel him paint the inside of your walls white, his hips stuttering– fucking himself as deep into you as he could possibly manage. If you had any sense left in your little head you would have told him to pull out, yet your brain is so high. Filled with pleasure that only Taehyung can provide. 
Waves of arousal crash around you as he slows his hips, ensuring that you ride out your orgasm to its fullest before pulling away. You wish he could stay buried inside of you, just like that. Yet you doubt that would be very wise. 
“Was that good for you, little lamb?” He asks, slowly helping you into a sit. You’re not sure how to properly answer– mouth feeling dry. Your head has not yet come crashing back down, though that is probably a good thing. 
Facing reality is too scary right now. Especially when Taehyung is so warm. So caring as he removes your dress. Slips your nightgown back over your soiled body. 
“Very…” You nod, unable to take your eyes off of him as he moves around the bed. Tucking himself back into his pants, removing his shirt and dress-coat. Placing them over the back of a chair. Neatly hanging the dress on a hook, taking care that it is not damaged in any way.
Your arms find themselves reaching out to him, trying to pull him closer to you. He smiles once he takes notice.
“Would you like me to stay the night?” It is clear he was already planning on it, but hearing the words make you smile oh-so bright. 
“Yes, please.” You nod quickly, eyes already feeling tired. You did not know how he had so much energy, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Right now he is meant to be in your bed, arms around you. In fact, you become annoyed that he isn’t already. 
“Alright.” He smiles, slipping next to your form. Wrapping his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible.
You feel so safe. So warm with him. So protected that you can’t stop yourself from falling asleep.
“Goodnight my lamb.”
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The Kim Empire. 
His home, his family, his livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.
Yet, the only thoughts that seem to brandish his mind since the young age of 15 are about you. 
When you first stumbled in front of him, carrying a tray of tea. Spilling it all over his shoes. That quick curse that left your lips before looking up at him. The wide, doelike vision you had once recognition had set in. One the realisation of error set into your bones.
He will never forget the way his heart began to race in that very moment. The way he felt a cloth of sickness overcome his whole body at the mere sight of you. Looking so serendipitous below him.
At first he thought it was hate, how silly he had been back then. Ah, the way he sent you to be killed was just funny to him now. He is grateful he talked to his mother before your execution date. Spilling his soul to her, detailing how he could not seem to remove you from his brain.
Ah, he was lucky he managed to get the letter to the executioner in time. What a pity that would be if he couldn’t. Then he wouldn’t have been able to lay next to you now. Wouldn’t be able to play with your hair, caress you like he pleases. 
It is truly too bad that was not his only trial on the road towards you. It was really a pity he had to send Jungkook away. Taehyung quite liked the kid. He was fun to play with and wouldn’t shy away from his games. 
But he just had to try and seduce you. Poor thing. You really were too innocent at the time. More than eager to kiss him for no reason. To give him even a peace of your heart that was meant for Taehyung alone.
He remembers as clear as day, the rage he felt as he watched your soft lips press against another mans. How terribly he wanted to go out and strike Jungkook with a sword. Of course he didn’t though, that would have scared you away. He would have hated that.
He thanks god every day he was really your first kiss, even if you didn’t know it. 
Patiences was the hardest battle of all, and he will admit, he has faltered a few times over the years. Kisses stolen while you sleep, a few of your belongings robbed to keep him satiated. Mayhaps a few trips to your room in the night. 
But who could blame him? He was a man in love. There was nothing that could stop him when he was so hungry for you. 
Ah, and then of course his father. He wanted to separate your love as well. A maid could never possibly be suited to be queen, blah blah. He doesn’t care. And at least that fight allowed him to hug you for the first time. 
God. You felt so perfect in his arms, then and now. You have always been meant for this. Meant for him.
If his father plans to keep standing in the way, he will simply have to remove him from the equation. His bonds to the man are as thick as water. He cares more for you than he possibly could anyone else.
You’ve belonged to him since you were born, anyway. If a maid becomes pregnant while working for the castle, her child becomes property of the state. Of the crown. Of him. 
It only makes sense that you are meant to be with him until death. It is the path lined for you. Your fate since birth. 
He knows it as his delicate fingers trace over the small patches of blood dirtying the sheets. Evidence of the hours before, of your virginity robbed. Of your promises to him.
You are bound to him by blood after all.
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© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.
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kithtaehyung · 3 months
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minted (m) (teaser) | myg
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title: minted (m) pairing: street king!yoongi x street cart vendor!reader rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , smut ; haegeum au , gang au summary: all you do is wake up, sell your fruit on the dusty streets below your flat, and go to sleep. but everything changes when a customer you always look forward to seeing turns out to be dangerous. really, really dangerous. note: okay so LISTEN!!! this is a complete surprise to everyone including me, bc this was def not on the docket for 2024 until i saw one (1) mint yoongi edit on my pinterest feed💀 anyways, this morally grey yoongi is dedicated to hali @sailoryooons for ur belated bday, nary @joonary for being a cutie pie and having the tangerine cart girl idea in general, and luce @minttangerines for ur relevant url and for being a wonderful friend. love you all! note 2: this fic is not for everyone. please read the warnings! there's gonna be some darker themes than the regular kithtaehyung drop, and it's the haegeum universe so it's not a light fic. if you're down for that, lfgggg. if you're not, i will not be upset if you skip this one! warnings: language, violence, weapons (guns/knives/chopsticks/etc.), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, murder, gang activity, poor reader is just trying to get through the day, mint-haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, knife held to the throat, tension, reader suffers from “my cabbages” levels of disaster, orange!jimin, fight scenes, morally grey yoongi smut warnings: to be smacked here on drop day! drop date: as soon as i’m done but we are ZOOMIN’ word count: 6k so far and projecting 12-15k✌️
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"you know.. it's a shame you touched her. because now we have nothing to discuss."
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⟶ what do we feel! | 🥢 join the taglist 🥢 | masterlist
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c0llisiion · 2 months
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NEED TO KNOW — j.jk
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★Pairing: jeon jungkook + f!reader
★genre: smut
★: older!jk, dads bestfriend!jk , oral (giving and receiving ) , unprotected sex , reader has a crush on jk, bachelor!jk, big dick jk, size kink kinda, hair pulling, gagging, slapping, pervert jk , dry humping , anal play , degradation, name calling, nicknames - lmk if i missed any!
★W/C: 4,395
A/N: remember that time I mentioned a jk fic that i was writing? This is that fic. Literally put this on hold for 2 months and finished writing it last night 😭 anyways enjoy!!
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★ MDNI. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
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“But i dont wannnnaaaaa goooooo!..” you whined as you declined your dad’s offer to go to his big company party. “Sweetheart this is a huge deal for me …” your dad countered. “… more over, mr.jeon is going to be there ..!” Your ears perked up at the mention of Mr. Jeon. The tall, tatted bachelor with his piercings and built body, who has been your dad’s best friend since his college days.
Since you were a teenager, you have had the biggest crush on him. He was perfect in every way. He was older. More wiser. Handsome. Just your type. The initial infatuation was small, but as you grew into your adult years, it grew stronger.
You were starting to dream about him. Not even the usual kind. Wet dreams.
He grew older like fine wine. Body covered in beautiful art. Built like an actual Greek god.
Surprisingly, he was not yet married, even though he was well off in his late 40s. He used to say 'no woman has ever caught my attention' when someone mentioned him still being single at his age—from what you've heard.
Your dad and him, being business partners, frequently bring him to your home. Always hanging out at the bar or in your dad’s study. You capitalized on these small visits and began attempting to attract his attention. Whenever he came over, you started hanging out at the bar. Offering to make him special drinks. Talking about his interests , which you found out through intense stalking just to impress him. wearing revealing clothes, buying him his favorite food and snacks whenever you visit his office to pick up something for your father. You got very close to him. Your obsession with him became stronger because he seemed so nonchalant about your little tactics. The worst thing you have ever done was hire someone to break off one of his relationships. Only you were meant for him. No one else.
Hearing your father say that he would be there was another opportunity to impress him. You shot up. “WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THIS BEFORE???” You say as you rummage into your closet for the perfect dress. Your father believed that your attraction to Jungkook was innocent and similar to that of a child. You had always said you hated the smell of alcohol, so he thought it was strange for you to start hanging out at the bar. Despite noticing many changes, he dismissed them as 'innocence', so he expected you to join him if he mentioned Jungkook. He left your room with a satisfied smile on his lips. You finally found the dress. A satin spaghetti strap dress in black, his favorite color, with a dangerously low open back. The dress was revealing when you put it on; the side of your boob was peeking out, but it hugged your curves perfectly. As the time got closer, you finished up spraying on your most expensive perfume, taking a final look at yourself before leaving.
The party was classy. A huge venue with what appeared to be millions of waiters with champagne. Upon entering the venue with your family, your eyes immediately searched for Jungkook. It wasn't long before you spotted him in the middle of a small group. He seemed to notice your family and hurried towards all of you without delay. As he got closer, your heart was beating fast. “Hey hey! My man!” He said taking your dad into a tight hug. “You could have come a bit more later!” He said sarcastically, taking a jab at your dad’s late-coming habit. “Don't blame me! This one took too long!” Your dad exclaimed, hugging you by your side. Jungkook’s eyes landed on you. He stared you down. Taking in each and every curve, his eyes eventually landed on your chest before he looked at your face and smiled. “So glad you came! You look gorgeous tonight.” He said, taking in your hand and kissing the back of your palm slowly, in a sensual way, while deeply staring into your eyes. He pulled away and rubbed the skin with his thumb before giving you a smirk. You felt your insides melt and your brain malfunction at his simple gesture. You were frozen in place and didn’t know what to do. You shyly backed away and looked down , trying to hide your wide smile with your bangs, which Jungkook took notes on.
Time flew by as you watched Jungkook speak in front of the huge crowd with charisma and confidence. One of his best traits. He always caught everyone’s attention with his choice of words and tone. It was embarrassing for you to admit that, but it turned you on. Your legs were crossed, rubbing your thighs together from time to time, and no one seemed to notice, except for Jungkook, of course. He eyed you every time you made a small movement.
All the speeches and boring talks concluded, which made you run out onto the balcony for some fresh air. You stared off into the distance, thinking about what Jungkook had done to you earlier. Was it platonic? Was he just being nice? Does he have feeli- “did all those old men bore you out?” Jungkook was behind you. His voice husky. His lip and eyebrow piercing, shining under the moonlight. You were caught off guard and turned around to see ‘your man', “mr.jeon! Ugh you scared me!” You said dramatically, placing a hand on your chest. He gets closer with a charming smile on his face and hands in his pockets. “My apologies. I didn't mean to scare you!” He let out a soft chuckle. “How is your night going?” He asked you. “Hm? Oh good i guess, it’s kinda boring, but i would do anything for my father..” He chuckled and gave you a side eye. “For your father? Really?” it seemed like he knew the real reason why you were here in the first place. “Wdym really? I love my dad!” You said in a playful, offended tone.  He chuckled once again. “Fine fine! I know how much you adore him.” You sighed softly and smiled.
“I like that dress on you. It suits you a lot.”  He said while eyeing you. You blushed at his compliment, looking down and fiddling with your acrylic nails. “Thank you..” you mumbled under your breath. You feel him getting closer to you. “Sorry? I didn’t hear you,  sweetheart.” His hands were on your hips, squeezing them softly. You froze in place. Heart beating faster. Your legs threatening to fall. His hands creeped towards your ass. Groping it softly, not wanting to seem too pushy. “Mr.jeon…-“ you let out a shaky whimper at his touch. “It’s jungkook for you, doll.” He said leaning in closer to your ears. He took a huge sniff of your neck and hair. “Thierry mugler alien eau de parfum? You have good taste.” He said while softly chuckling in your ears before pulling away. He lifted your chin so you can look at him. Your eyebrows were slightly furrowed as you stared into his intoxicating eyes. “What did you want to say earlier?” You gulped before speaking up. “Thank you… jungkook.” He smiled at you before placing a kiss on your forehead. His hands went under your ears, caressing the soft skin gently. Your eyes widened, and you just stood there. “I’ll see you around okay?” He said smiling before he left. You were standing put, like a statue, your limbs refusing to move. 
A few days went by, and you were still processing whatever happened with jungkook that night. His kiss. The way his hands caressed your body. His little nicknames. It was just too much to process. You didn’t see or hear much from jungkook since that day. There were small interactions, but he seemed to ignore you each time. You were starting to get worried. What happened? What did you do wrong? Did you fuck up? Does he hate you?. You never stopped overthinking.
One morning, you heard the familiar voice of Jungkook from the kitchen, laughing and giggling with your father. You quickly put on your clothes and dolled up, still hoping to impress him, before you went downstairs. “Ah! She’s finally awake! We were just talking about you!” Your father exclaimed. You observed jungkook as he sat on the kitchen island and ate what appeared to be lucky charms. His favorite cereal. He glanced at you briefly before turning away. You felt your heart shatter. After all that he did? Is this the way he treats you? . You walked past him and got yourself a glass of orange juice. “Did you sleepwell princess?” Your father inquired. Jungkook was still not looking at you. His gaze was fixed on the newspaper in front of him. “Yeah yeah i did.” You said putting on a fake smile. “Oh!” Your father exclaimed as he heard his phone ring. “Excuse me.” He said before rushing out of the kitchen.
You glared at jungkook and gulped down your orange juice before dropping the glass onto the table. Jungkook noticed your action, which made him put his newspaper aside and walk towards you. “What’s wrong?” He inquired, leaning onto the island. “Hmph!” You huffed, turning around. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Come onnn! Tell me.” He said while hugging your waist from the back. You let out a heavy sigh before turning back around. “What did I do wrong? Why do you keep doing this to me?” You asked. “Doing what?” “Are you seriously going to act like you don’t know?” You said folding your arms. Jungkook had a confused look on his face. “You are ignoring me damn it!” “Ohhhhh! About that! I just didn’t have anything to say.” He said shrugging. You rolled your eyes at him. “Admit it, Jungkook, you just want to play with my feelings. You don’t care about me. You never did.” You let it all out. It was weird for you to act like this, but you couldn’t help yourself. Jungkooks eyes darkened, and he stared at you. You gulp.  “You think I don’t care about you? Me? Not caring about you? You think i come to your house almost every other day for your father?” He said while pushing you down onto the island. He turned you around and hugged you close to his body; you could feel his clothed hard dick on your pussy. You shudder when he slowly grinds his hips into your behind. “Ya feel that doll? Thats how you got me everyday..” he said whispering into your ears. His free hand found your right tit before he gave it a squeeze. Tugging the thin white fabric of your crop top down to expose your hardened nipple. You hear him darkly chuckle in your ear before giving the sensitive bud a squeeze. His hips never seemed to stop as he continued dry-humping you. You felt yourself involuntarily lowering yourself on the island, pushing your ass back into him for more stimulation. He immediately pulls away, leaving you weak and clenching around absolutely nothing. You whined, turning around to face him with pleading eyes. “What?” He scoffed at how desperate you were. He got closer and fixed your shirt. He didn’t say anything and just rubbed your shoulders down before walking away. 
A while later, you were napping in your bedroom. It was not uncommon for you to take naps in between the day since you were basically unemployed and didn’t have much to do, and you also needed one after what happened with jungkook.
All the blinds were shut, leaving the room completely dark. It was silent; the only sound that was heard was the faint noise of the air conditioner. You were in deep sleep and didn’t notice or hear Jungkook entering your room. You felt the bed sink next to you before you felt a cold hand on your hip. His hands, kneading the soft flesh of your ass before it grazed around your desperate cunt. You whine when you feel his fingers touch and draw circles on your sensitive part. “Shh..” he shushed you before pressing onto your pussy. He chuckles at how quickly you got wet. Your mouth was agape, soft grunts escaping every second. He slowly pushed you onto your stomach, climbing on top of you before pulling your pink panties to the side.
It was dark, and he couldn’t see much, but he could feel how soaked you were. He spread your cheeks and lowered his mouth down onto your cunt, sucking on it. Your eyes shot open, heavy breathing as you turned around to see the man of your dreams eat you out from behind. “Ju-jungkook..?” He shut you up by lapping his tongue over your dripping cunt. You let out a loud moan, your head falling sideways, already drooling even though he barely started. He lifted your ass up using his strong hands, making you arch your back. He dropped his head lower and started sucking on your clit, his big nose pressing into your soaking pussy. You grabbed a handful of his hair from behind and pushed him closer. He hummed into your pussy, making you gasp for air. Loud slurping and squelching sounds, along with his groans and your moans, echoed throughout the room. You were seeing stars. The way his mouth ate you out and the feeling of his cold lip ring on your pussy were beyond comprehensible. Your heart started beating faster as you felt your body warm up, and a knot formed in your abdomen. Jungkook took notes on your body language and pulled away. You cried out when you lost contact.
He leaned in and switched on one of your bed lights, finally giving the room some light. He observed your body. Your ass was still up, your pussy glistening with his spit and your arousal. It was clenching and unclenching around nothing. He let out a scoff before turning you around. Your face already looked fucked out. Tears painted your cheeks, and drool was all over your mouth. He hovered over you, placing a hand on the headboard. He used his other hand to wipe your face clean. “We have gotten ourselves a good hour; better make this quick, alright?” You nodded softly and wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him into a soft and tender kiss. He kissed you back and hugged you closely to his body. His hands went under your tee, squeezing your tit. You whined into the kiss. “You are so sensitive, sweetheart…” he mumbled. You break off the kiss and cup his face. “Jungkook… want more..” He tilted his head to the side and stared at you. He put on a smirk before standing at the foot of the bed.
He took off his pullover, revealing his tatted arms and toned abs and pecs. The soft bed light that was illuminating the room was able to capture every detail of his body. You stare. Hand in between your legs, squeezed shut. You bit your lip softly before your eyes met his. He gestured for you to come closer, which made you crawl to him. Your face was now right in front of his hard dick. You could see the bulge growing. His hand went behind your head, grasping your hair gently. You looked up at him with your doe eyes, which instantly made him fold, but he kept his composure. He gave you a nod, pushing your head closer to his crotch. Your nose nudged the bulge before your greedy fingers hastily unzipped his pants. Your eyes widened when his cock sprung out and hit his stomach. He was big. Girthy. The tip was red, and you could see his precum peaking from the slit. Without wasting time, you took a stripe from the base of his dick until the tip before you sucked on it. He hissed at the feeling of your plump lips sucking on his sensitive tip. He was starting to get impatient and pushed your head down, filling your mouth even though he was only half way in. You looked at him with teary eyes as you choked around his girth. He almost lost it when you looked up at him with those eyes of yours. His other hand caressed your cheek, pushing himself further down your throat. You could feel him. Your jaws were hurting, and you grabbed onto his hips for stability. Your throat spasmed around his cock. He noticed how you were kinda struggling. “Better make me feel good, okay? I want that throat to show me what it got.” With that, he started thrusting into your mouth. You started choking and gagging around his length, which just turned him on even more.
He yanked your head off of his cock. A string of pre cum and saliva connected your lips and his cock head. You looked up at him and whined, wanting his dick to stuff your mouth again. He bent down to your level before licking your chin clean, swallowing the mixture before speaking to you. “On your knees and hands, baby girl." You obliged immediately, taking off your flimsy tee before throwing your ass in the air and arching your back for him. You felt the bed dip behind you, and jungkooks long dick landed on your ass, slowly grinding through the sheer panties.His wet cock making it translucent. You whimpered, already feeling yourself getting hotter. “You are such a dumbslut.” He lowly chuckled.
“You think it wasn’t obvious?” He removed your skirt and ripped your panties. You gasp at his sudden action. “All these skimpy skirts and tops.. and just when I'm around? Were you that desperate, princess ?” He said while pushing his cockhead into your sopping hole.
You let out a loud moan; his tip was enough to stretch you out. “Not gonna lie… i was very flattered” gripping your ass cheeks as he slowly pushed further, letting you adjust to his size. He continued. “I only kept my cool because you were my best friend's daughter, but—holy shit-“ he gets cut off as you clench around his length, tears already dripping down your face. Your mind fogging up. You were constantly letting out soft moans and whimpers as he slowly bottomed down into you. “Woah there-“ he chuckled. “im not even half way in sweetheart” he said while grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your head back. You looked at him with teary eyes. Lips quivering. He smirked before kissing your cheek. He let go of your hair and pushed your head down into the pillow using his hand. The other hand was on your hip as he finally pushed all the way in. “Since you are begging for it— ” you let out a loud scream as he filled you to the brim.
Although it was painful, the pleasure made you forget about the pain. you felt warm spit fall on your pussy as he starts moving. “Gon’ fuck you silly, alright? Isn’t that what you wanted? Getting dicked down by your father's friend? What a whore…” You nodded incoherently. A loud cry left your lips as his hips thrust into you harshly. His pace was slow, but the way he thrust in was so... Your body was moving forward with every thrust. Sounds of wet skin slapping echoed through your room. You were not able to focus on anything. His pace increased, and so did the harshness of his thrust. You clenched around him, making him fall forward. He caged your tiny body under his larger one. “Fuck babygirl.. you are gonna rip my dick off..” he chuckled. “Jungk-kook… feels too good…” you managed to blabber out as he fucked into you like a madman. “Yeah? you like that? You liked getting fucked by older men, dont you sweatheart?” You whined as his large hands gripped your hair.
This was wrong. Very wrong. This man has seen you grow up. He has been there since you were a baby.
“Let me hear those pretty sounds…” he said while landing a tight slap on your ass, reddening the area almost immediately. You gasped and whimpered, letting out a loud pornographic moan as Jungkook hit a specific spot. His other hand found your swollen clit and started drawing rough circles on it. Pinching and tugging the abused nub. Your legs trembled, and your moans got louder. “F-fuck! Jungkook…don’t s-stop! Feels so good!” You babbled. Jungkooks eyes were focused on your pussy. The way you took in his length. Your milky white cream coated his entire length, collecting at the base of his cock.
He stopped thrusting in you for a moment. You whined as you felt him suddenly stop. Jungkook smirked before leaning over and whispering in your ears. “Fuck yourself on me, doll.” You cried in defeat. Jungkook placed his hands on his hips, waiting for you to start moving. You gulped before slowly rocking your body forward and backward. You could feel his every inch penetrating the insides of your gummy walls. His large tip hitting your cervix over and over again. “Thats all you can do? Wow.. so pathetic..” he scoffed. You shook your head furiously and started going faster. Jungkook let out a satisfied groan as he watched your ass ripple. “Play with that little clit of yours.” He commanded. You reached down in between your legs, finding the sensitive nub almost immediately. You slowly rubbed your clit, sending shivers down your spine. You moaned out as the stimulation of your pussy and clit was getting overwhelming. You fucked yourself faster on his cock. Mouth in a soft ‘o’ shape and eyes crossed as his cock hit your gspot every time you moved in and out. Jungkook was in a different world. His eyebrows were furrowed, and sweat dripped down his neck. He was close to cumming just by seeing you fuck yourself on him.
His hands spread your ass cheeks, before a glob of spit landed on your asshole. You shuddered and panicked, stopping for a moment. “J-jungko-?” “Just focus on fucking yourself; everything is going to be alright…” he reassured you. You nodded before going back. His long fingers toyed with your rim. You grunt when you feel his fingers prod into your asshole. “Shh- shh.. youre safe .. jus’ wan’ try something new..” You gulped and shut your eyes tightly as his fingers ventured further into your asshole. He shoved three of his fingers into you, making you moan out loud. “Fuckkkkk- so tight…” he whispered. You melt and crumble when you feel his fingers move inside of you. You buried your head in your pillow, muffling out any unholy noise.
Your pussy and asshole clenched around his fingers and dick, making him groan. “So damn sensitive… has any guy fucked you, this good princess?” You shake your head. “N-no sir …” Jungkook shot up at the name. His fingers increasing in speed. You let out choked-out moans and cries as his fingers curled inside your asshole. “Say that again, will ya?” His other hand found your hips and started stretching your pussy out again. “Please.. f-fuck me harder… sir.” That was all it took to make Jungkook go feral. His cock left your pussy and was immediately shoved inside your sensitive ass. Your eyes shot out, and you couldn’t make any noise as you looked back at jungkook with tears rolling down your cheeks. He pinned your wrists behind your back before moving in and out. He struggled, initially. curse him for not stretching you out more, but his cream-coated cock provided enough lube for him to start pounding into you smoothly. “Shits so fucking tight- gah-“ your lips quivered and legs trembled as Jungkook fucked into you with great strength.
You screamed out, finally getting your voice back after he fully plunged his cock into you. Your cunt was leaking arousal, dripping down your thighs. Jungkook didnt seem to stop. His heavy, cum-filled balls were slapping against your pussy. “Jungkoook…- its too- too much!” You cried out. “Take it. You are a big girl. Take it like a big girl. I know you fucking can. Look at your little ass sucking me in. So good. So fucking good.” He pulled your body back and pounded into you. Your face was a mess. You cried and moaned like a bitch in heat every time he filled you to the brim. You felt your orgasm approaching as the feeling of the familiar knot in your stomach began growing. “Jung-jungkook- gon’ cum…” you whined. “Go on princess… be a good girl and cum all over me..” you nodded weakly, focusing on reaching your high. Jungkook flipped you over, laying you down on your back. His hands pushed your legs up against your chest. You were in ecstasy as the new position had you seeing stars. You observed Jungkook's sweaty body and fucked-out face.
A slap was landed on your glistening, sopping pussy before two fingers were shoved inside them. His thumb stimulating your clit. “Ngh- oh fuck- jungkook m’ so close…!” Your eyebrows were knit together, and sweat dripped down your face. The overstimulation getting too intense. Both his hips and hands increased their pace, determined to help you reach your high. You saw white as Jungkook pressed down on your sensitive bud. Clear liquid gushed out of your pussy and landed on his abdomen. You screamed as he continued fucking you through your orgasm. “Yeah.. just like that.. so dirty.. you are such a dirty little girl..” Jungkook's movements got sloppier. Your orgasm turned him on by a mile, and he was close to cumming himself. You twitched under him, still not over your intense orgasm, not noticing that he had slipped out of you and was furiously jerking himself off. His head was thrown back, and soft moans left his mouth. His breath hitched when a load of his milky white cum shot out all over your body. Coating your stomach and your boobs. You moan as you feel his hot cum land on your body, taking the mixture in your shaky fingers and licking it off while staring into his eyes. Jungkook smirked at you with half-lidded eyes.
“My dirty little girl."
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A/N: HEHE THANK YEWWW 4 READINGGG! how was it tho? This would have been a stepcest fic but i changed my mind in the middle 🙁💔 im currently writing fics from my inbox! You can send in your rqs <3
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bonny-kookoo · 5 months
Text
Jungkook
𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 | Masterlist
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A (hopefully) full list of all Home!Content.
Main Tags/Warnings: Idol!Jungkook, Foreigner!Reader, Major Fluff, established relationship, smut
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Main Work :: Part 2
Short #1
Short #2
Drabble: Tired (NSFW)
Drabble: Touch
Drabble: Be Okay pt.1
Drabble: Be Okay pt.2
Drabble: Be Okay pt.3
Drabble: Wine
Drabble: Depending
Drabble: Craving
Drabble: Savoring
Drabble: Back To You (NSFW)
Drabble: Home(Sick)
Ask: Jealousy
Ask: Fighting
Ask: Breakup
Drabble: Promises pt.1
Drabble: Promises pt.2
Ask: Interview
Ask: Watching a movie (NSFW)
Ask: How did they meet?
Ask: How did JK confess?
Drabble: Grateful
Drabble: The things I do for you
Drabble: Toys (NSFW)
Drabble: Anger
Drabble: Bath (NSFW)
Drabble: Picturesque
Ask: Jealous
Ask: Getting Bam
Ask: MC getting jealous
Drabble: Forever
Ask: Soop
Character ask: How did Jungkook plan it?
Ask: Protective Bam
Character ask: Redo?
Ask: let the public know
Ask: Babytalk
Ask: Dramatic kook
Drabble: Clingy
Ask: Laugh
Drabble: Risky Birthday (NSFW)
Drabble: Sweetest Kiss (NSFW)
Drabble: Back Out
Ask: Mini drabble
Ask: Hiatus
Character Ask: Wedding?
Ask: Accident
Ask: Accident pt.2
Drabble: Something New
Short: Perilla Leaf Drama (NSFW)
Ask: Tour
Ask: Boner (NSFW)
Ask: Jealous MC 2
Ask: Birthday
Ask: Random drabble
Ask: Pain
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gggukniverse · 8 months
Text
basic needs | jjk, myg
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title: basic needs
pairing: jungkook x f!reader, yoongi x f!reader
rating/genre: m, smut, roommates au
summary: missing sex while being stuck in your apartment with your two roommates during quarantine is being the worst nightmare you could've imagined. fortunately, you're not the only one who's touch starved.
warnings: sexual tension, getting caught during sex, voyeurism, edging, dirty talk, protected and unprotected sex (pls be safe y'all), creampie, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms (f receiving), cum eating, finger sucking, hair pulling, praising, begging, reader gets called a whore once, a little yoongi x jungkook 👀.
wordcount: 6k
note: okay... i don't know where this came from like i didn't even know i had all of this in me 🧍🏻‍♀️ i kept gasping at my own writing, i think i got too carried away haha i just hope you like it. also pls keep in mind english is noth my first language !! let's go !
yoongi has been in his room all afternoon, something about working on a new track, and jungkook is currently taking a shower so you have the living room for yourself, some old sitcom playing on the background but you're paying more attention to your phone. that's until you hear footsteps coming into the living room from the corridor.
"hey, loser." jungkook greets you as he ruffles his damp hair from the shower with his hands.
you hate yourself for pausing to look at his toned body, the fucker walked out of the bathroom shirtless. you blame it on your lack of sex.
"what are you watching?" he doesn't seem to notice or care about you looking at his abs, his eyes narrowed towards the tv while he puts on the shirt he was grabbing.
"i'm not really watching anything... you can play whatever you want." you try to act unbothered when he decides to grab both of your legs and raise them a little to sit on the couch to then let them fall on his lap, letting you stay lying down. his warm hands on your bare legs make you get goosebumps and you pray he doesn't notice.
what the hell is happening to you? get it together, it's just jungkook.
"wanna watch a movie?" jungkook looks at you and starts to run his fingertips through your legs in a soothing way. you're gonna go crazy over how nice it feels after being touch starved for so long.
"sure." you shrug, trying to focus on your twitter timeline and not on his hands caressing your legs.
one of his hands moves away from your legs to grab the remote on the armrest of the couch and soon after he's opening the netflix app on the tv. you turn your head to look at him when you feel his free hand starting to caress your skin again while he looks through the movies catalog. he's not looking at you so you take the opportunity to really look at his hand.
the inked hand looks strangely nice against your pale skin. his hands are actually really nice, they're big too, you wonder how they would feel–
"anything in mind?" his voice thanfully brings you back to reality and you panic, quickly looking up at his face. he's still not looking at you.
it's impossible he knows you were staring at him, right?
"what?" you mutter with wide eyes and he finally throws you a quick glance before looking back at the tv.
"any movie you'd like to watch?"
oh.
"uh... i don't really have any in mind, you can play what you want."
"sure there's not any cheesy romantic movie you want to watch?" he's teasing you now. it's not the first time he's complained about you always watching romantic movies.
"shut up, i know you like them too," and he does. you've caught him tearing up that time you watched the notebook together. "just play something already."
"i don't know what to play, though." he keeps scrolling through all of the movies.
"okay. keep scrolling and close your eyes, stop whenever you want to and open your eyes. we'll watch that." you propose and he narrows his eyes as if he's thinking about it but ends up nodding. "close your eyes then."
you see him closing his eyes and hear the sound of the scrolling on the tv so you keep staring at him in case he cheats.
"that one." jungkook stops and opens his eyes just at the same time you turn to the tv.
"i don't know that one." you mutter after reading the title.
"a romantic one, you won." he teases again while he silently reads the synopsis and you sigh, rolling your eyes back.
"c'mon, play it."
you're pleased when the movie turns out to be kinda good. it's just another really cliché romantic story but you love movies like that. jungkook is enjoying it too even though he tries to act it out. you smile each time he makes a comment about the movie, he can never shut up when watching something.
"stuff like that doesn't happen in real life." he says and you let out a chuckle.
"it's a movie, kook." tou reply and try not to think about his hands still caressing your legs. it's been like that during all the movie, maybe he hasn't even noticed he's still doing it.
it's nothing new that jungkook is a really touchy person, he's always been touchy with you and even with yoongi, he likes to cuddle, likes to touch your hair. but this time it feels so different because of the lack of touch you've been having. it is so embarrassing to admit how nice his hands feel on you.
never in two years living with him would you have imagined jungkook could be quiet during a movie until a sex scene comes up. he suddenly goes quiet. his hand stops moving.
it's awkward. it's always awkward to watch a sex scene with someone else. if you were watching the movie with your best friend it would be totally different, but this is jungkook, your roommate, your roommate you don't have any type of relationship outside this apartment.
you feel tense, your whole body feels tense, and you pray that he doesn't notice. but you flinch when his hand squeezes your thigh a little too hard.
"oh shit, sorry." he apologizes quickly with a chuckle that seems way too forced.
good, you're both tense and awkward.
"don't worry." you reply just as quickly and he nods before turning back to the tv. he looks so focused on the movie, like he's holding his breath. you only realize you've been staring when he looks back at you.
"you okay?" jungkook is looking at you with a soft smile but also with something in his eyes you've never really seen on him.
"y-yeah," you wanna punch yourself in the face for stuttering but manage to move your legs off his lap to stand up from the couch. "i need something to drink, you keep watching the movie." your bare feet are already guiding you to the kitchen when you hear him humming.
maybe you end up spending too much time in the kitchen. you chug down a glass of water as soon as you get there but when you're finished you leave the glass on the sink and then you lean back on the isle, taking a deep breath and trying to calm down.
you hate how you can still feel jungkook's touch on your legs, how he looked so immersed in the movie, how you can't stop thinking about him squeezing a little too hard when the girl in the movie let out a loud moan, how his gaze was so dark when he looked at you, how you needed to feel his hands on you again.
god, you really need to have sex.
the door creaking open makes you snap out of your thoughts and look up. you quickly straighten up and clear your throat. jungkook is right there by the door looking at you.
"hey," he says nonchalantly and walks to the fridge. "you okay?" his voice is quiet as he grabs the bottle of orange juice.
"yeah! perfectly fine." you nod while he takes a sip of the juice.
he hums and closes the bottle. "you were taking too long, you're gonna miss the rest of the movie."
"yeah, i-"
"i'm not dumb, y/n. you can say you were uncomfortable because of the movie." he chuckles and you feel so stupid.
"no! i wasn't uncomfortable.. it's just- i-" you struggle to find the words and just feel even more stupid
"what is it?" he arches an eyebrow and walks to stand next to you, leaning back against the kitchen isle too.
"i just... fuck, i need to have sex." you snap and run your hands through your hair in frustration. "i'm gonna go crazy if i have to stay inside this house one more fucking day. i haven't had sex in three months."
"we've been quarantined for a month." jungkook points out looking at you with narrowed eyes like he's about to say something else.
"i know, shut up." you stop him before he dares to tease you for it.
"i get it." he says after a few seconds in silence and now you're the one frowning and looking at him.
"huh?"
"i need to have sex too."
oh.
"i get your frustration, sometimes i feel like i'm gonna go crazy too." he looks forward, avoiding your stare.
"oh yeah, i'm sure you're not used to not having a girl bouncing on your dick every single night." the comment was meant to tease him but you just end up feeling your heart start beating too fast at the thought of bouncing on a dick too.
you place your hands on the isle right behind your back and jump a little to sit on top of it, hissing a little because of the cold surface on your exposed thighs.
"hey, it wasn't like that before quarantine!" jungkook whines and pouts like a child and it causes a chuckle to escape your lips. "i wish, though."
"you're gross."
"as if you didn't want to bounce on a dick every single night." he looks at you with an arched eyebrow and a little smirk.
a weird feeling between your legs makes you close them instantly and you swear you can see jungkook looking down really quick before turning and walking back to the fridge to leave the juice bottle back in. when he turns around again you have to fight back a gasp at the sight of the tent he has on his sweatpants. jungkook is hard.
it's embarrasing how bad you need some dick now, it really is, but you look down and close your legs even tighter.
"i should... go to sleep, it's kinda late." you mutter and as soon as you're gonna hop off the counter there's a hand right next to your thigh on the counter.
"wait." jungkook says and you have to look up, he's standing right in front of you.
"yeah?" your voice is just as quiet as before.
"did you get worked up watching the movie?" he asks with a little knowing smile and you want to die from embarrassment.
"no!" you lie, pushing him back a little. "i didn't." you shake your head but he only chuckles, your head is lowering down again.
"it's okay, y/n." his hand brushes against your exposed thigh from where it's placed on the counter and you shiver.
"i didn't." you insist even though you know you're being so fucking obvious.
"open your legs."
a whine escapes your lips at the simple words and you're so embarrassed you wanna die, your face feels so hot.
"jungkook..." you don't want to look up at him but he just moves even closer.
"i know," he coos like he's sorry for you. and it is hot. "it's been so long since someone has talked to you like this, right?"
you just hum in response and shiver again when he pushes one of your strands of hair behind your ear.
"you need someone to take care of you, right?" he purrs, his lips softly brushing against your ear.
"fuck." you sigh and finally look up. "jungkook."
"you need it just as much as me." he says looking right into your eyes. "if you let me..."
"please."
you can't even think straight anymore.
"please, what?"
you don't answer, just spread your legs. he closes his eyes and exhales through his nose.
"y/n."
"please, touch me." you don't think you've ever heard your voice come out so whiny but jungkook seems to like it because he's immediately taking the last step forward he can take and gets between your thighs, placing his hands on your thighs.
"say that again." he says, looking down at your lips.
"touch me." you don't even think about it, because that would probably fuck everything up. it's better this way.
jungkook looks down between your bodies and one of his hands goes up your thigh until it reaches the fabric of your shorts, then it goes up to the elastic waistband. you keep your eyes on his face while he slips his hand under your shorts and finds the wet patch in your panties with his fingers. the groan that leaves his lips when he gets to feel how wet you are is louder than the moan you let out at the same time.
"holy fuck, you're so wet." his fingers start moving slowly against your clothed folds.
"fuck, kook." you sigh and move your hips even closer to him, trying to chase the feeling of his fingers on you.
"mhh... i know," jungkook coos again and you know you're gonna go crazy if he keeps taking to you like that. "feels good, right?" he hums and you're about to respond when he pushes your panties to the side and really touches you.
"fuck." you throw your head back as he runs his fingers through your wet folds.
"god, you're dripping. making a mess down here." jungkook groans and looks up at you. you must be a blushing mess already, your cheeks are burning and you literally feel lightheaded even if you haven't even done anything yet. "please, let me kiss you." he almost begs and you suddenly feel like you're gonna melt right on that counter.
before he can ask again you're throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into a desperate kiss. you don't know if you're really fucking turned on or if he's just a really good kisser but you melt into the kiss. jungkook swallows the moans that escape your lips when he slips a finger inside so easily and starts fucking you with it.
"kook..." you moan against his lips. it feels so good to be touched again that your legs are already shaking.
"pretty." jungkook says and starts moving down, leaving a couple kisses on your jaw before kissing and sucking on your neck.
"jungkook- fuck." you sigh, tugging at his hair desperately. "seriously, it's been... it's been so long."
"i know." jungkook hums against your neck and sucks a mark on it as he adds another finger inside you.
"feels so good." you moan and a little squeak slips out of your mouth when he curls his fingers inside of you and finds that sweet spot. "it's so... fuck, it's so soon but i'm gonna cum, kook." you don't even have the mind to be embarrassed about it. it feels too good.
but jungkook suddenly stops kissing your neck and pulls back completely, his hand moving away from inside your pants. the complain about to slip out of your mouth dies in your throat when you see him sucking on his fingers and groaning.
"fuck, so sweet."
you're gonna go crazy.
"your feet on the ground, and turn around." he orders and you're so desperate you obey right away, jumping from the counter and turning around to give him your back. "you need to tell me if you really want this because it's gonna be easier to just stop now." one of his hands finds your waist and he pulls you against his body, you moan at the feeling of his clothed hard dick against your ass.
"yes, fuck, yes please." you breathe out and feel his hands on the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down immediately along with your panties. "wait, wait."
"mh?"
"yoongi, he's home." you mentally applaud your brain for being rational enough to remember you're not alone in the house.
"he doesn't leave his room for hours, don't worry about." he shrugs and you can see him pulling his sweatpants down.
"but- ah!" you whine when he pushes one of your feet further to the side so your legs spread a little more. "jungkook..." you want to insist on the fact that you're not alone but his fingers find your pussy again.
"you're fucking dripping." he sighs and easily slips two fingers inside, making you put your hand on your mouth not to be loud. "fuck, so tight."
you can't help but bend down on the counter, pushing your ass towards him to chase his fingers. jungkook straight up moans at the sight.
"please, need you inside." you whimper when he adds a third finger and starts fucking you with them at a pace that drives you crazy.
"what was that?" he asks and moves even faster. the fucker is teasing you.
"kook, need you to fuck me."
he doesn't seem to think about it twice before he reaches for one of the kitchen drawers where a box of condoms is hidden and takes one out. you can notice he's trying to hold himself back and take his time with you but he's just as eager as you, so he can't slow down now.
"you sure about this, right?" he asks. you're looking at him over your shoulder as he rolls the condom down his cock.
"i'm fucking dripping, kook. of course i'm sure." you're starting to get anxious, you wiggle your ass just to let him know you're ready for him.
a little sigh leaves your mouth when jungkook rubs his tip against your folds, just when you think he's about to slip inside he just rubs it again.
"fucking tease." you mutter with your cheek pressed against the cold surface of the counter. "just fuck m- oh!" you can't help the moan that leaves your mouth when he slips inside all the way.
"shit, so tight." jungkook hisses behind you and you whine, your walls clenching so hard around him. his hands grip on your hips so hard you're sure it's gonna leave a mark.
"it's been.. too long- fuck." you remind him as he pulls back a little just to thrust inside again.
"yeah, me too, i'm not gonna last." He warns and you almost giggle because at least you're both equally desperate.
"i don't care, just make me cum." you beg through a moan when he thrusts inside again.
"come here." one of his arms wraps around your waist and straightens you up so your back is arched against his chest, keeping you in place. you're both still wearing your shirts and your pants and underwear are just pooling by your ankles, so horny you didn't even waste time to get undressed.
"holy fuck!" you gasp when his thrusts hit a different way in the new angle and soon after, jungkook's hand is over your mouth.
"want every fucking neighbor to hear you?" he whispers against your ear and you feel your walls clenching around him again. "fuck, y/n, keep doing that and i'll cum in two seconds." his hand drops from your mouth to your neck, wrapping his fingers around it but not adding any pressure, just keeping you in place.
"so big." you whimper helplessly, your hands still flat on the counter because you feel like your legs could betray you right now. "you feel so fucking good."
you feel his hand closing a little around your neck and your eyes roll back at the feeling, he starts fucking you even faster. there are drops of sweat rolling down your forehead already but you don't care, not when you're finally having a cock inside of you. and god, he's fucking you good, so good that you don't feel embarrassed at how close you feel already.
"feels good?" jungkook hums and you can only whine in response. "fuck, your pussy is swallowing my cock, y/n, doesn't want me to leave." he groans and his thrusts are so hard that you're starting to see white dots. "you're so good, y/n."
"f-fuck... please, need... need to cum." you must sound pathetic right now but you can't bring yourself to care. "touch me, kook, make me cum."
his free hand is moving quickly, finding your clit again and rubbing fast circles that almost make you start crying.
"gonna cum, baby?" you feel his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers. the pet name makes you clench even harder around him. "wanna cum on my cock?" he sounds so gone too, you know he's close too. if you knew he was gonna fuck you this good you would've actually taken your time with him, but you let it pass for now because you're both needy and just need to get off.
"yeah." you unconsciously let out the most pornographic moan you've ever heard from yourself and jungkook start giving sloppy thrusts, you're both so close. "kook, i'm gonna cum." you manage to let out and right after your mouth can't even make sounds anymore.
"fuck, y/n."
you're so close. you're gonne cum. so fucking close.
but the door creaks open and you both freeze, not being able to contain your moans at the feeling of jungkook bottoming out once again.
"yoongi!" you scream at the boy standing by the door at the same time as jungkook screams 'hyung!'. you try your best to cover yourself by pulling your shirt down. jungkook's hand drops from your neck to rest on your waist.
"oh, don't stop." yoongi shrugs as if he's just caught you chopping vegetables.
"huh?" jungkook mutters behind you and you can feel it about to move away but you reach for his thigh with your hand to keep him there.
"kook, please." you don't know what got into you. you're so desperate to cum you don't even mind yoongi being there in front of you.
"see? she wants you to keep going." yoongi's voice is so calm as he slowly walks towards you, leaning back against the counter, just right next to where you both are.
you look down as your cheeks start burning and you clench around jungkook. why the hell are you getting turned on by being watched by your roommate while getting fucked by your other roommate?
"fuck, y/n." you know jungkook is hissing because you got impossibly tight around him and you can hear Yoongi's little chuckle. "you're just gonna stand there?" the younger asks his friend.
"i don't think she minds." yoongi replies and you can almost see the smug smile on his face even if you're staring at the counter.
"y/n?" jungkook mutters behind you but you don't answer. you're so close, so embarrassed and so turned on that you're scared your voice will come out in a pathetic whine.
"y/n," yoongi's deeper voice calls for you too but you don't reply either. "look at me, y/n," he speaks again and you bite your lip not to let out another moan because you're sure you're currently creaming jungkook's cock. "pull her hair so she looks at me, jungkook."
your breath hitches then the youngest does just as yoongi says and a moan finally escapes your throat as he tugs at your hair and brings your head up, turning it a little to the side so you can face the boy beside you. he's handling you as if you were a doll. and the second you lock eyes with yoongi you feel numb. his eyes are so dark, you've never really seen him looking at you like that. a little smirk grows on his face as he looks all over your face. you probably look a mess.
"do you want me to stay?" he asks with an unusual soft voice that makes your legs shake.
"hyung." jungkook says with a warning tone, his cock throbbing inside you. he needs to cum too.
"shut up," yoongi gives jungkook a quick look and turns to you again. "y/n?" the words don't even leave your mouth, you can't speak. "what? jungkookie was fucking you so good you can't even talk?" he speaks with a condescending tone, like he's sorry for you. you close your eyes as you clench around jungkook again.
"fuck, y/n." jungkook's free hand squeezes the flesh on your hip.
"keep fucking her, kook," yoongi finally says. "let's see if you can make her talk again."
jungkook doesn't need to be told twice because he lets go of your hair and starts moving again without even questioning him. your head stays in place for yoongi to see you but your eyes are still closed. you must be going crazy because you don't think you've ever felt this good during sex and it is just a quick fuck in the kitchen with your roommate while your other roommate looks at you.
after a specific thrust that hits just where you need it you arch your back until your head falls on jungkook's shoulder, you throw one of your arms behind you so you can reach jungkook's hair and keep him close. your fingers tangle with the soft locks while he fucks you at a brutal pace.
"right there, kook..." you moan.
"like that?" he whines, fucking whines, against your ear as he keeps thrusting against that sweet spot inside you and you nod frantically. one of his hands stays on the counter right next to yours and the other sneaks under your shirt and finally cups over one of your boobs, a groan hits your ear.
"s-sensitive.." you warn him but he squeezes your boob anyway. you cry out. you're so close again, so fucking close.
"stop." yoongi says and jungkook halts his movements immediately as if he was under his spell.
"fuck, yoongi." you choke on a moan. when you open your eyes you can see yoongi looking down at where your bodies meet, then he looks at jungkook.
"jungkook," yoongi says and jungkook hums in response. "you got tested when i did, you're clean." he tells him and then he looks at you. "are you clean? and on the pill?"
"yeah," you nod. "yes to both." you suddenly feel shy again. they both sigh at your answer and you gulp, watching yoongi turning to jungkook with an arched eyebrow.
"then why are you wearing a condom?" yoongi asks. and he's not wrong. you usually didn't risk it, you always use to have protected sex, but now that you see it like this you wonder why you didn't ask jungkook if he was clean from the start.
"hyung... i don't know if she-" jungkook mutters like he's not sure but you can clearly feel his cock twitching inside you.
"do you want him to wear the condom?" yoongi asks you, his voice still calm and his look unbothered.
"y/n, you don't have t-"
"take it off." you cut Jungkook off and yoongi smiles. you feel so nice after seeing his reaction that you wonder if you're doing this just to make him feel proud. it feels good.
"pull out, kookie," yoongi says and walks towards him, you turn your head to look back at them. jungkook obeys quickly, your walls squeezing him like you want to keep him inside. "good," yours and jungkook's breaths hitch when yoongi himself takes the condom off of his cock and goes to throw it on the trash. "you leaked a lot, damn." he say through a breathy chuckle when he comes back and decides to stand right behind jungkook.
"hyung."
"she must feel good, right?" yoongi is suddenly resting his chin on his shoulder and looking down. your eyes follow yoongi's and then roll back when you see yoongi's hand wrapping around jungkook's cock and slowly stroking him to spread the precum on his tip all over his length.
"fuck, hyung." the boy moans and your pussy throbs.
god, this is so fucking hot you could cum if they kept that going for a little longer. but yoongi drops his sticky hand and looks at you tilting his head and lightly raising his eyebrows.
"open your mouth." he says and you don't question him, just open your mouth and welcome two of his fingers inside.
you moan around them as you suck and swallow jungkook's taste off them while yoongi stares at your lips, his tongue licking the corner of his lips.
"clean my hand." his fingers drop from your mouth and you stick your tongue out, one of your hands wrapping around his wrist while you run your tongue all over his palm and fingers, cleaning jungkook off of him.
they're both looking at you like they want to eat you up and you feel so powerful yet you can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs by this point. yoongi drops his hand when you've cleaned it completely and then looks at jungkook.
"c'mon, kookie, fuck her now." he says really close to jungkook's ear and the younger obeys instantly, slipping inside you and groaning at the feeling. "good boy." yoongi chuckles as jungkook bottoms out.
"so good." you moan, already feeling the clear difference in having him inside with nothing in between. a whimper is forced out of your mouth when jungkook starts thrusting into you again.
"that feels good, right?" yoongi asks and moves to stand beside you again, to watch it all happen.
"mhm..." you moan. "please... jungkook- please."
"so pretty when you beg." yoongi puts his fingers under your chin to make you look at him. "such a pretty whore."
"oh my god!" your eyes roll back. you feel yourself just a second away from coming. "gonna cum... fuck..."
"yeah, i can fucking feel you." jungkook breathes out. "fuck." his thrusts become sloppy real fast. he's close too.
"jungkook..." you completely bend over the counter again because your arms can't support your weight anymore, your cheek gets smushed against the cold surface. "i'm- shit... i'm coming." you whimper.
"then cum." yoongi's voice is all you need to get there. a shocking wave of pleasure runs through your whole body while you clench hard around him.
"shit, so tight." jungkook mutters behind you and one of your weak arms reaches behind to grab at his thigh. "so close, y/n."
"please." your whole body is shaking with oversensitivity.
"want me to pull out?" jungkook asks.
"no... please," you beg. "come inside, baby." you cry out.
"c'mon jungkook, cum." yoongi says and that seems like enough for jungkook too, because you feel his throbbing cock releasing inside of you.
"fuck," jungkook mumbles. "y/n, come here." his hands are on your waist again.
"i can't." you let out a weak chuckle but jungkook is suddenly wrapping his arms around you and pulling you up.
"need to kiss you." he says and you immediately turn your head to find his lips. you kiss him slow, nothing like the kisses you shared before, and it feels good to kiss jungkook like that.
he's the one that breaks the kiss and when you try to chase his lips again he just chuckles and gives your hip a soft slap.
"kiss yoongi too." he whispers just at the same time as you feel a hand wrapping around your neck.
yoongi's lips are on yours as soon as you turn around. you hum through the kiss and bring one of your hands up to his cheek, tilting his head a little to deepen the kiss. he swallows your moan when jungkook's cock finally slips out of you and you feel his cum spilling out. yoongi breaks the kiss when jungkook mumbles something you can't really hear.
"shit..." you close your legs when you feel jungkook's cum spilling out and dripping down your thigh. "it's so messy."
"not for long," yoongi suddenly grabs you and brings you to the fridge, making you lean back against it as he drops to his knees in front of you. you stop breathing for a second. "i'm gonna clean you up."
"hyung," jungkook calls him as he puts on his sweatpants again. "you're gonna-"
"do you think this is my first time tasting cum?" yoongi throws him a quick glance and you swear you see jungkook blushing for a moment.
yoongi turns to you again and grabs one of your thighs, throwing it over his shoulder and diving in with no warning.
"yoongi, fuck!" you throw your head back as one of your hands goes to his hair. he hums against your pussy and laps at your entrance, from where jungkook's cum keeps spilling out.
"that's so fucking hot." jungkook sighs but you can't open your eyes to look at him, you keep them closed.
"yoongi, you're gonna- gonna make me cum again." you mumble, your only leg supporting you starting to shake but yoongi keeps you steady with one hand on your waist and the other on your thigh over his shoulder. and the warning that you're gonna cum only makes yoongi push you further to the edge, sucking on your clit and basically burying his face on your pussy like he's starving for you. "yoongi, oh my- fuck, oh my god!"
you don't know what to do with your hands anymore, one of them stays on his hair while the other ends on your mouth to try and stop the pathetic noises from coming out. though one hand is suddenly grabbing that arm and pulling it down.
it's yoongi. he detaches his mouth from you to say, "i wanna hear you." and suddenly slips two fingers inside you.
"sensitive..." you mumble, your legs shaking again and threatening to close even if yoongi's head is between them.
"gotta clean you well," yoongi says. "jungkookie had a big load for you, huh?" he chuckles again.
you've never heard something so hot in your entire life. jungkook must think the same because he groans somewhere in the kitchen, you don't see him because you're too busy holding yoongi's eye contact.
"you like me cleaning jungkookie off your pussy?" yoongi asks you and gives your clit another little lick as he fucks the cum out of you with his fingers. "dirty girl."
"please, yoongi."
"love hearing you say that." he smirks as he pulls his fingers out of you and brings them to his mouth, cleaning them with his tongue.
"hyung, jesus fucking christ." jungkook sighs while yoongi goes back to eating you out like he's wanted it for months.
"i'm gonna cum, yoongi- ah!" you throw your head back against the fridge again when yoongi sucks on your clit and starts fucking you with his fingers again. "oh, right there!" his fingers keep brushing against that sweet spot and you're sure you're gonna cum soon.
it doesn't take long for you to cum on his mouth and fingers, yoongi gives your pussy one last kiss before placing another one on your thigh still on his shoulder and finally puts it down.
"you're okay?" yoongi asks you as he stands up and cups your face with his hands to check on you.
"yeah," you nod. "just a little dizzy."
"i'm sure you're tired." he brushes his thumbs on your cheeks affectionately and your eyes close on their own. "i'll go prepare a bath for you, okay?" he says and kisses your forehead.
and holy fuck, you never thought that thing people said about feeling butterflies in your stomach was real but now you can feel them because as soon as yoongi pulls away, you feel another kiss on your cheek from jungkook.
"you were amazing." he tells you and you have half a mind to smile.
"wait," you turn to the door where yoongi is already making his way to the bathroom. "yoongi!" you call out for him and he quickly turns around.
"yeah?" he asks and your eyes go down to his crotch. he's hard. of course he is.
"do you... want help with that?" you ask shyly but he just waves a hand dismissively.
"don't worry about it, you're completely spent, you should rest now." yoongi replies sincerely but then looks to jungkook. "unless you're ready for another round." he cocks an eyebrow.
you look at jungkook and a giggle slips out of your mouth when you see him shocked, his cheeks tomato red. yoongi chuckles too.
"i'm just teasing you," the older says. "i'll go prepare a bath." and he leaves the kitchen.
then you're alone with jungkook again. you grab your clothes from the floor even if you're not really gonna put them on now.
"what was all of that about?" you dare to ask and you know jungkook understands what you mean but you still push further. "yoongi and you...?"
"it was nothing." he quickly replies. you're not dumb, he's getting defensive.
"okay..." you mutter. "calm down, i wasn't judging."
"i know," jungkook says and oh he looks troubled. "it was just nothing."
"okay," you nod and give him a reassuring smile because he looks more tense now than before. "just... if you've got some thoughts you need to let out... i'm here, or whatever..." you try not to make things real serious but you just don't want to see jungkook like this.
"i'm okay." he replies.
"mh, good." you end up putting just your shorts on again because it might be a little weird to have this conversation while being half naked.
"by the way, that was short but it was amazing." jungkook says out of nowhere and you giggle, slapping his arm.
"yeah, you were not bad either." you say and squeeze his bicep twice before walking out of the kitchen.
and when you're left alone in the corridor everything you just did hits you like a truck.
what the hell have you done?
A/N: hope you enjoyed it !! i'm not 100% satisfied with this one, i know i could've done a lot better but yeah :) thank u for reading ! have a nice day <3
3K notes · View notes
aft3rhrs · 4 months
Text
— close ღ
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: forbidden romance, step!siblings au
warnings: yandere, mentions of violence (not towards the reader), pseudo incest, manipulation, corruption, mentions of somnophilia, praise, degradation, cockwarming, breast play, dirty talk, dom!jk but he's needy, (he's also a pervert), humping, creampie
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It started out as an unconscious gesture; searching for your warmth. Hugs that lingered and limbs tangled together under the sheets on stormy nights. A primal yearning, seeping into his consciousness slowly; until sharing a bed became a normal occurance, no need for rain or thunder. Until exploring your skin under the cotton of your t-shirt no longer served to comfort you; but rather to feed the starving fire in his bones, prickling your skin with its heat. He always needed more.
It was so hard to think clearly through the fuzziness in your head, his own warmth filling you up; and the innocence lacing his lewd actions. A pretty, silken ribbon coiled around a snake.
"I love you," he'd whisper, "I want to be close to you. Is that so wrong?"
The words, so heavy, sank all the way into your skull, their weight slowly crushing your common sense; and all that was left were the raw, unfiltered instincts creeping beneath. In a way, Jungkook was right, wasn't he? And it wasn't like anyone would ever know...
You ended up disappearing deeper into that thought the more daring his touches became, the longer his hands lingered so intimately on skin that so clearly longed for them.
"I missed you so much... Couldn't wait to come home."
The whisper turned into a sigh, his hand brushing over your abdomen. A soft moan was muffled into your neck when his hips pushed forward, the drooling, swollen tip of his cock prodding against your slick entrance. He filled you up inch by inch, throbbing as you clenched around him, so fucking tight a dull bang sounded through the room before he was even halfway in. He paid no mind to his head hitting the headboard, hissing and squeezing your hip with an inked hand, eyes shut and stomach twisting hotly.
Unfortunately — or fortunately, at this point, who knew — hearing the gentle quiver in each breath Jungkook took for some reason only made you clench harder.
"Ahh—" a weak, breathy, little groan that made his voice break. "F-fuck.. Please stop, baby..."
You pressed your face into the pillow, trying to stifle the whimper pushing past your throat. His hands lowered down to your thigh, holding you open with ease so he could slide in deeper, make you take it all before his hips finally touched yours.
You've spent many nights spooning like this, eyelids heavy and fingers intertwined. At first, Jungkook obediently kept his touches limited to caressing your thighs and tummy, decorating them with mindless patterns.
Until that, too, was not enough.
Every night he buried himself inside you, he found it harder and harder not to cross the line — and you found it harder not to fall apart. "You feel so good," didn't suffice anymore; neither did the gentle, appreciative way he felt your body. He needed more. And who could blame Jungkook with the way your cunt gripped his cock, dripping wet and heavenly warm, like it was made for him.
"So perfect."
His palm roamed your thigh, getting dangerously close to the curve of your ass.
"So perfect for me," he whispered softly. "Must feel so empty in the mornings, huh? Pussy so pretty gaping after I leave— ah."
It would have looked even prettier with his cum spilling out of it, but the thought turned to dust the moment he felt you react to his words, the pulsing around his thick girth drawing a groan out of him. The corner of his lips twitched upwards lazily, his eyes falling shut.
You felt like you couldn't breathe.
Being inside you was meant to serve a purpose; to comfort and relax. You never thought Jungkook actually looked at you, let alone while you were unconscious, and the admission made the room around you spin in hazy circles.
"Filthy," he murmured, his fingers finding rest on your ass and squeezing.
You gasped, squeezing him right back, and Jungkook wasn't sure how much longer he could stay still, the heat blazing through him too consuming.
"Shh, shh, shh, baby," he tried to soothe, one hand reaching to envelop your own. "Doing so good. Such a good girl."
Nuzzling your neck, he helped your heartbeat slow down a little, his embrace solid; leading you straight back towards the safety zone.
"Wanna watch a movie?"
While grateful for the offered distraction, you shook your head, wishing for nothing more than to finally fall asleep. For a moment, it was silent, and it almost seemed like Jungkook had the same idea.
Then, his lips inched towards your ear and you felt him twitch inside you.
"Wanna make one?" He breathed.
Your eyes shot open, stomach turning. Jungkook felt you tense up in his arms, and for some reason it turned him on to see you struggle, thrown from your safety zone into the deep water.
"What if my cute, little sister got stuck under the couch? Or t-the table—ohh fuck—"
He couldn't quite finish the sentence, his dick beating as hard as his heart as your walls constricted.
"Jungkook!" you tried, though your voice barely rose above a choked whisper.
He hummed in response, brushing his nose along the nape of your neck.
"You started it."
How?
You didn't get a chance to ask. His hand sneaked under your shirt again, shamelessly sliding up to cup your breast. Tingles crept up your spine, making it arch beautifully, and Jungkook groaned at the slight movement.
"I mean, how filthy are you, baby? You find out I lift the sheets every morning to look at your little cunt while you're sleeping, and you clench around me like a bitch in heat."
He couldn't deny the ache shooting through his stiff cock as he taunted you in a whisper, goosebumps flooding his skin. Not once in his life has he ever spoken to you like this before; maybe that was one of the reasons for the bubbling heat unfurling in his stomach. Maybe that was the reason for the way your thighs quivered as well.
"I felt you then, too," he groaned, rolling your nipple in between the tips of his fingers. "Is that what you want? To get stuck under a couch and fucked by your brother?"
The next roll turned into a pinch. Arousal made you burn from head to toe, and for a reason you couldn't fathom the shame worked like gasoline, making the fire spread quicker. You were struggling to breathe again, too hot under the sheets.
"I'm starting to see a pattern here... You like being treated like some mindless toy? You wanna be a little doll for me?"
You were meant to stop him, say his name, but it came out as a pathetic moan, and you felt yours eyes water. It was a mix of mortification and the intense need pulsing in between your thighs, the kind you've never felt before, the kind you knew you shouldn't feel at all when it came to your stepbrother.
As if reading your mind, Jungkook slowly began to pull back; dragging every thick inch of his cock through your walls slowly, until only the tip remained inside.
The moment he parted from you completely, you instantly felt his absence. There was no better time to say something than now, when your ability to form sentences wasn't completely blurred by lust.
"Jungkook," you tried again in a whisper, swallowing, "please, stop using that word when you're—" a gasp cut you off when he flipped you onto your back, leaning his muscular arms on either side of your head.
Even in the darkness of your bedroom, it was impossible not to notice how fucked out he looked, smirking down at you.
"What word?" He murmured, unceremoniously lifting your shirt.
Your heart jumped, hand flying down to try to cover your chest, but he caught your wrist and slammed it against the pillow.
"What word?" He repeated. As if he needed to ask. As if he didn't feel you squirm every time he used it. "Sister?"
While you were trying to process the situation, heart beating out of your chest, he lowered his head and wrapped his mouth around a hardened nipple, sucking. A veiny hand reached to fondle the other breast and you moaned softly, eyelids fluttering. Jungkook grunted in response, dark gaze flickering up to your face. It was a sinful sight, the feeling even more so, his tongue so hot and wet as it flicked against the bud. But your hesitation must have shown, because after a moment he pulled away and caressed your face instead.
"Don't act so innocent, baby. You think I don't notice how you don't even need to touch yourself to let me inside? Just seeing my cock gets your panties wet. Besides," he leaned in closer, staring into widening eyes. "That's what you are, aren't you?"
There was a look in his eyes you haven't seen before; something possessive that prompted you to nod and agree, despite the nervousness buzzing through you.
Jungkook purred, rubbing his nose against yours.
"Then be a good little sister," he whispered, "and spread your legs for me."
A tremble went through your spine, and you found yourself doing just as he asked. It earned you a tender kiss on the cheek, then another. He loved you so much. Was is it so wrong that he loved you? No, and he would continue to assure you that there was nothing wrong with you loving him either.
Biting down on his lip, he grabbed his hard cock and gave it a pump, then two, shuddering when it touched the warmth of your cunt.
He felt his abdomen tense, keeping eye contact as he began pushing himself into the welcoming softness of the tight hole. He's never kissed you before, but his lips were practically on yours, brushing your mouth and releasing hot, short puffs of air. Swallowing harshly when he bottomed out, he felt the moan that escaped you, felt your hole twitching around him, greedy and so much wetter than when the night began.
"G-god," he forced out, fighting back a groan. He buried his face in the crook of your shoulder.
"I love you so fucking much, y-yeah. I'm so fucking hard. Always m-make me so fucking—ah—hard. So pretty."
He was so drunk on you, his words were beginning to slur. Warmth tingled through your chest in crashing waves. His hand went back to kneading your breasts, any traces of gentleness gone and replaced by need. He lifted himself up to look, fascinated by the way your body reacted when he twisted and abused your nipple. He could have came just from this, from the view under him and the feeling of your perfect pussy. And fuck, he wanted to come so bad.
"Fuck," he finally groaned, barely conscious of the little grinding movement his hips began to make. You were getting lost in the pleasure, your hips lifting subtly to aid his in gaining friction.
Immediately, mindlessly, his grinding became faster, his cock rubbing against your walls so well and reaching so deep you knew you were going to come; and he wasn't even fucking you properly.
"Ohh fuck, baby— need you so much, please."
You heard him sniffle, the mattress squeaking beneath you.
"Please let me come. I need to come."
"Jungkook," you breathed, "I, I—" your stomach tightened, the tension in it so close to bursting.
Was this wrong? It didn't feel wrong; Jungkook always said that it's okay to have a special bond, that it's okay to feel good, it's your business. And you knew you weren't connected by blood, but you were still connected by family ties.
"A-are you still on the pill?" He asked brokenly, his voice hoarse.
"Yeah, I— am, oh—"
With a low groan, he humped you faster, making your legs stiffen around him.
"Can I come inside? Need to come inside. Need to fill this sopping fucking cunt."
You whined, hiding your face in his neck, a tiny part of you still aware that your parents were home, asleep. At this point though, it didn't really matter anymore. You wanted to feel him come so badly; you wanted to feel him fall apart with you.
"Yes, please," you whispered breathlessly, your fingers digging into his broad shoulders. "Come inside me."
The moan he let out was obscene, but you didn't get a chance to beg any more; your vision became blurry and you couldn't hold back any longer if you tried. His hand slapped over your mouth just in time to muffle the scream that broke through, his teeth biting harshly into your shoulder to dull his the desperate sounds of his own orgasm. His hips stilled, dick twitching and shooting rope after rope of cum until his mind went numb.
You've never felt this sated before; so full and complete, lost in the bliss. It took a while for Jungkook to gather up the strength to lift himself up, but you didn't mind at all, his weight on you adding to the comfort and the butterflies still swarming around your tummy. What caught your attention was the silky lips touching your own; a chaste, loving kiss, the first one he dared to give you, making your heart pound.
"I'm all yours. Are you mine?"
Not that he needed to ask; of course you were his. He'd sever someone's arm before letting them even think of putting a finger on you. But he did need to hear you say it. He needed you to know that you belonged to him only, that no one else was allowed to do the things he did to you. And you sighed, so sweetly, whispering your answer straight into his mouth.
"Only yours."
Eyes hooded, Jungkook stared at your beautiful face, peace taking over your features. You were already falling asleep, and he could barely keep his eyes open, even though arousal still stirred in groin. He came so much it drained most of his strength, but he'd be able to sneak into your bed again. And this time, you'd let him give it to you properly, you'd beg for it like you begged for his cum. You'd let him fuck you again and again until you were so dumbed out on orgasms and love, you'd barely question waking up in a new apartment he rented for you to share.
Your parents wouldn't question it either; they'd have no reason to. Wasn't it just heartwarming for siblings to be close?
2K notes · View notes
7ndipity · 2 months
Text
Sweet Morning
Yoongi x Reader
Summary: Just a lil thing about Yoongi looking after his S/o when they wake up sore after a particularly intense night together.
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: slightly suggestive, implied smut, implied drinking, swearing, mentions of bruises, bathing? not proofread
A/N: I’m back! Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I decided to stick with Yoongi for this one, but if you’d like similar blurbs for the other members, let me know! This turned out a lot softer(and longer) than I planned, but I couldn’t help it, I love sweet caregiver Yoongi 🥺(also, I wrote part of this at like 4am, so I’m sorry if it’s eh)
Masterlist
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At first, you thought the late morning sunlight was what woke you, managing to shine through a gap in the curtains directly in your face and pulling you from the cozy cocoon of sleep. The shifting weight of the bed behind you though proved otherwise, a sleepy grin spreading across your face as you felt a familiar pair of arms slip around your middle, a set of warm lips leaving a trail of soft kisses along your bare shoulder.
“Morning.” Yoongi rasped, his voice somehow even deeper first thing in the morning.
You hummed contentedly, memories of the night before flickering back through your mind as you stretched.
Yoongi’s lips somehow never leaving yours for more than a moment as you’d fumbled through the front door and to the bedroom, clothes hastily discarded in your wake, tasting the whiskey he’d drank at dinner on his tongue. Falling back on the bed with him, desperation making each touch somehow feel a thousand times more potent, swallowing each other's moans as you rode out wave after wave of pleasure til you were both too exhausted to continue, falling asleep still clinging to one another.
Yoongi’s feather light touches pulled you back to the present, in stark contrast to the night before as his lips drifted up the side of your neck.
"What time is it?" You asked sleepily.
“Late, but I have the day off.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to the faint purple mark that was forming just below your ear. “What do you want to do today?”
“I think this is pretty good,” You replied happily, rolling over to face him, but pausing midway as you winced, hissing slightly at the pain in your lower half.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, brow furrowing in concern.
“I’m just a little sore from last night.” You said easily, trying to pull him in to connect your lips, but he pulled back, looking down at you with growing alarm.
“Did I hurt you?” He asked, sounding horrified.
“What? No, Baby, I’m fine.” You quickly tried to convince him, but he sat up, gently tugging the blankets away from your body.
“Fuck.” He whispered.
Your skin was littered with hickeys and marks from him, some faint and barely discernible, others blooming in deep shades of red and purple.
He didn’t remember leaving so many marks, but when he was with you, it was like his brain shut off. All he could remember was the taste of your skin and all the sweet noises you made every time he’d dragged his teeth across your flesh.
His frown deepened as his eyes landed on the marks that decorated your hips and thighs, faint imprints of his fingers evidence of his vice-like grip on you from the night before.
He traced a finger over the marks, causing you to wince slightly, shivering from sensitivity. His attention snapped back to your face.
“Fuck.” He repeated, looking at you sadly. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“Yoongi, I’m okay, really.” You tried to reassure him, trying not to grimace as you sat up, but he just shook his head.
“I shouldn’t have been so rough with you.” He said.
“I wanted you to be rough.” You reminded him, catching hold of his hands to pull him closer. “Did you once hear me complain last night?”
He shook his head again.
“Exactly, because there was no reason to. Everything about last night was amazing.” You said, caressing his face gently. “You made me feel so good, you always make me feel so good."
He smiled faintly in spite of himself, leaning into you instinctively as you kissed him, his lips dropping back into a frown as he felt you wince again as you tried to press closer to him.
He pulled away, looking at you softly.
“Wait here.” He said, climbing off the bed.
You did as he asked, sinking back into the covers as your eyes drifted closed.
You couldn’t lie, as much as you might have enjoyed the night before, you were beyond tired, your whole body feeling heavy and achy.
You had nearly fallen back to sleep before Yoongi returned, smiling down at your sleepy form for a moment before rousing you gently.
“Come on.” He said, tugging you up from the bed.
He helped you up slowly, wrapping an arm around your waist for support as he guided you to the bathroom, the scent of lavender enveloping you as you stepped through the door.
He’d prepared the bath just the way you liked, even setting a few of your favorite bath bombs out for you to choose from, as well as lighting a few of your favorite candles to further set the mood.
“What’s all this?” You asked, looking at him in surprise.
He didn’t answer right away, focusing instead on helping you slide in, smiling at the way your eyes fell shut as you sank into the warm water.
“Feel alright?” He finally spoke.
“Mmm.” You hummed, looking up at him expectantly. “Aren’t you getting in too?”
“I can, if you want me to.” He said uncertainly.
“I want you to.” You said, shifting forward to give him enough space to sit behind you.
He slipped in quickly, letting you lay back against him as he grabbed a cloth and started to wash you.
Normally, you’d argue a bit with him, just for the hell of it, saying something about how you were perfectly capable of washing yourself, but you let it go this time, enjoying the feeling of his gentle touch.
“Do you feel any better?” He asked after a bit.
“Mhm,” You practically purred. “Thank you.”
“Thank you.” He replied.
“For what?” You glanced up at him quizzically.
He shrugged. “Letting me have you.”
You grinned.
“You know, you didn’t make it out of last night unscathed either.” You said, poking a mark on his neck, making him wince slightly.
“At least I can still walk though.” He said pointedly.
“I can walk!” You argued.
“Like a penguin.” He smirked.
“Yah!” You splashed him, making him laugh. “I thought you were being nice to me?!”
“I’m just trying to keep things balanced.” He said, kissing your temple. “I can’t spoil you too much.”
You pouted, making him chuckle.
“I love you.” he said, pecking your cheek.
“Love you too.”
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz
863 notes · View notes
taexual · 7 months
Text
sleepwalking ● 1 | jjk
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summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.
pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers / fluff / angst / smut (in later chapters)
warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes, SLOW BURN
words: 7.5k
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chapter 1 ► when i open my eyes to the future, i can hear you say my name
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There was virtually not a single person left on the entire fourth floor of the company building, despite it being a Monday afternoon. Normally, two other managers worked in offices adjacent to yours, so the noise in the hallways never settled below a pleasant hum: producers, promoters, and publicists – the three cursed Ps – shuffled in and out, heels clicking urgently against the marble floor.
This funeral silence was unusual, but you knew it was only a calm before the storm.
Rated Riot were going on their first-ever European tour in two days to promote their sophomore album – named aptly, “ready, set, RIOT” – and today was the final day of meetings. Evidently, the executives at Jett Records assumed that the band deserved to have a whole floor to themselves, so everyone else got a half-day, leaving you and the Floor Administrator, Rue, all by yourselves until the band got here.
This unsettling silence was exactly why you heard them arrive as soon as the door of the building opened four floors below. Rated Riot lived up to their name by making themselves heard before they were seen.
As soon as the sharp ding! of the elevator reached you in your office—your door was always open on meeting days, because the four members of one of the most promising rock bands in the world at the moment lacked any sense of direction—you could immediately feel the atmosphere lighten, the previous silence long gone.
“Rue! The apple of my eye!” Hoseok, the drummer and the de facto mood setter of Rated Riot, exclaimed as you listened to the familiar sounds of the band as they exited the elevator and, based on the repeated clicking of shoes in the lobby, momentarily got disoriented.
“Always looking good, Rue!” Jungkook, the vocalist, as well as the new Golden Boy of Jett Records followed after.
“Good to see you again,” Taehyung, the always well-mannered bassist, said. Silence followed and you assumed he shook Rue’s hand.
“Hello,” Yoongi, who was, technically, the guitarist of the band, but, really, played any instrument he could get his hands on, was the last to speak. He’d always been very well-spoken in songwriting, but quieter and more careful in most everyday conversations.
“Welcome, guys,” Rue greeted them. You couldn’t see any of them from where your office was located, but you’ve been in a similar situation countless times before and you could imagine what was happening without needing to witness it first-hand.
Rue would stand up from her seat and point her right hand down the hallway, reminding them—yet again—that they needed to walk down the hall and take a right turn. The members of Rated Riot, in turn, would walk down the hall. At least one of the four of them would turn left instead, causing a pause as the group gathered back together, exchanging confused glances. Then, they would turn back to Rue—who would still be standing there, her right hand extended like a helpful Statue of Liberty. They’d laugh at themselves, nod at Rue, and take the correct turn.
If things were going well, they’d find your office on first try—they’d just need to find the open door and peer inside; your desk was right in front. More often than not, however, they stumbled around, knocking and chuckling to themselves as they continuously interrupted the offices of everyone else, but you.
They were special. Not just because they looked like loose ducklings, separated from the Mother Duck, whenever they entered the company building, but also because, in spite of their own lack of coordination, they still managed to get things done.
And they brightened the day of everyone they came across. Which was almost ironic—as you realised by watching the four of them enter your office—considering the effortless rockstar aura that surrounded them.
Jungkook walked in first. That was typical because he usually did: sometimes because he was the only one who remembered where your office was, but usually because the other members offered him as a sacrificial lamb when they went knocking around every office on the floor in search of yours.
He was dressed in all-black—always—adorned with silver chains and necklaces that often gave you a start when you looked up, because he had a very specific way of entering the room: he seemed to make sure to position himself in just a way that the light, coming in from the window behind you, always reflected off his jewellery and momentarily blinded you.
Sure enough, you blinked, cringing into yourself as the brightness hit your eyes, and when you opened them again, he was already grinning.
“Hi,” he said and the rest of the members followed in after him—a brighter palette of colours.
Even Yoongi, who was the only one who could have given Jungkook a run for his money if you had to count which one had more black items of clothing in their closet, was wearing a beige, loosely buttoned shirt.
Despite that, however, you could tell they were rock artists as soon as you looked at them—all tattoos, piercings, intense eye make-up behind sunglasses, and old band tees—and you stood up, excited to let them know that, finally, every last loose thread had been found and tightened. They’d get to introduce their artistry on a different continent, and you’d make sure it’d go smoothly.
“We’re leaving for Prague tomorrow morning,” you told them once the five of you settled down at the round table in the back of your office. “So, if you were planning a going away party, I strongly advise against it.”
“We weren’t,” Yoongi said, lifting his glass of lemon water—there was a jug on the table—and giving you a reassuring look. “This is the strongest drink I’m having tonight.”
“Thanks,” you said paradoxically enough, but being grateful when the members of the band you managed didn’t get drunk before an important day was part of the job. “I’d also appreciate it if—”
“Hold on a second, though,” Jungkook interrupted—you’d been anticipating it. “I’m going to a gig tonight, Reconnaissance are in town again. And there’s obviously an after-party—”
Despite Reconnaissance being, arguably, one of the most popular rock bands in the world right now, you were definite when you cut him off, “No.”
“—so, I—wait. No?” he paused. “I never miss their shows, you know that. And I don’t get drunk easily. You know that, too.”
“That’s why you drink so much,” you rebutted. The rest of the band members got their phones out, knowing well enough at this point that this would take a while. “And then I have to come get you out of trouble.”
“You absolutely do not have to do that,” Jungkook insisted. “We’ve been through this.”
“Have we?” you argued. “Because I keep telling you it’s my job to keep you from passing out in a dirty bar bathroom, but you don’t care enough to hear me.”
“Well, you’re not very convincing. What’s the worst that can happen? I’ll wake up again.”
You were used to having this conversation with him—you’ve argued about this way before he became a singer and you ended up as his manager. And yet, the lax way he said this made you clench your fists.
Despite being mostly introverted, Jungkook did enjoy getting drinks with friends: even if said friends enjoyed his celebrity status more than they enjoyed the drinks.
“And if you don’t?” you threatened. “Rated Riot’s vocalist gets his stomach pumped. A catchy headline.”
“Yeah, man,” Hoseok interjected, putting his phone screen down on the table and crossing his arms. “Doesn’t go well with the vibe we’re going for. Don’t get your stomach pumped.”
“Fine, I—”
“What he meant was, don’t drink so much that you’d need your stomach pumped,” you clarified because Jungkook moonlighted as a Loophole Finder.
“I never have!” he insisted. “Seriously, you treat me like I’m still nineteen. Have some faith.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the other members of the group look up from their phones. The band had only formed a few years ago, so you were the only person in this room who knew what Jungkook was like when he was nineteen. You never spoke about it – that was likely why everyone was so curious.
In any case, Jungkook was wrong. You did have faith—that’s why you spent so many of your off-duty nights driving down deserted streets to pick him up after his asshole friends convinced him it was a good idea to try the biker bar on the outskirts of town, and he’d gotten in an altercation with a burly redneck that was twice his size.
There was no time for that now, not when he was supposed to be on stage in Prague in three days.
“Well,” Taehyung spoke up. “I was thinking of going to the show as well. Not so much the after-party, I have better plans. But, uh, I could come, after all.”
You appreciated the offer, but you knew that these better plans involved him spending time with his girlfriend, Luna, who was going to join him for a few weeks of the European tour, but after that, the two of them were going to be apart for several months.
“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” you said, not trying very much to hide the hopeful undertones in your voice. Jungkook’s friends felt intimidated by all the members of Rated Riot; they’d be on their best behaviour if Taehyung was there.
“No, I think it might be fun,” Taehyung said. You exhaled quietly and he could sense your gratitude without words. He turned to his younger bandmate. “Should we go together?”
Jungkook groaned and mumbled under his breath, “not if I have to third-wheel again.”
“When have you ever third-wheeled anyone?” you asked rhetorically, but he was already opening his mouth to reply. Quickly, you added, “be careful, is what I’m saying, okay? I am complaining about having to pick you up from all kinds of holes, but if you need me to bring NDAs, I will bring them. So, ask.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes, but chose to stay quiet. He knew better now – the one time he did not make anyone sign a non-disclosure agreement after an impromptu, drunken busking session in New York, pictures of him, half-dressed and giving a lap dance to a random, equally as drunk, groupie, were on every rock page on Instagram. Accompanied with detailed retellings of how it came to happen, of course; all of them more ridiculous than the next. Your personal favourite story was that he was recruiting members for a sex cult.
“We’ll call you,” Taehyung gave you a nod, “if we have to.”
“Perfect,” you said, glancing at Jungkook again, even though expecting him to confirm that he, too, would call you if he had to, was wishful thinking.
Every time you reminded him how he needed to start going out with a less destructive crowd, he’d treat his phone like a poisonous snake – and he’d been doing that even before you became his manager. His friends seemed to get their pleasure fix from watching you arrive and rip him a new one, so they were the ones who called you most of the time, always laughing into their phones like true accomplices.
It was funny how Jungkook was the only one who passed out or got so wasted, he ended up on a ferry to Martha’s Vineyard. His friends always walked away unscathed and, usually, only called you by the time they were back in their bedrooms – “when we left, he was ordering mint and honey daiquiris, you should probably go over there and check up on him.”
It was like they loved pushing him into danger and purposefully bringing the two of you together again, and Jungkook either didn’t realise or didn’t care anymore. It’s been a while, after all.
You and Jungkook had been broken up for two years when you got the unbelievable offer to manage an up-and-coming rock band. This was two years ago now and you were only twenty-four back then. Up until that point, you had worked as an assistant manager for various indie artists, so that offer was massive.
You figured the downside that your ex-boyfriend happened to be in this particular band was worth it, considering the huge leap in your career you’d make by accepting this job.
And, for the most part (excluding the first two months that were pure chaos of repressed feelings), you and Jungkook both made this work, drawing a strict line between your relationship before Rated Riot (back when he still had your phone number saved as “❌”) and after he met you again as Rated Riot’s new manager (ironically, now your name on his phone was “❌❌❌”).
You’ve managed Rated Riot for almost exactly two years now, and if you’d asked the band – which you wouldn’t, partially out of humbleness, but also because you were scared – you’d know that they loved working with you as much as you loved working with them. So, in the end, it all really had been worth it.
“Check your emails for the descriptive itineraries,” you continued smoothly enough. The guys at the table put their phones down and returned their attention to you. “Now, who else is coming with us?”
Technically, the band wasn’t supposed to bring anyone – the label was explicitly clear about that. They wanted the first European tour to go “without a hitch” (meaning, without distractions), but you held a more liberal view here.
You didn’t think loved ones coming on the road were a distraction; if anything, they were a firm support mechanism that made touring easier for the artists.
“I know Luna’s staying until the Barcelona show, yeah?” you asked, double-checking the notes on your laptop.
Taehyung nodded, a small smile on his lips at the mention of the girl. “She flies out the next day, yeah.”
“Okay. Who else?”
“Well, Sid and Jude are coming,” Jungkook spoke up and, after seeing your eyes roll back, added, quieter, “and Minjun isn’t sure.”
The three musketeer-wannabes – Sid, Jude, and Minjun – were on speed dial on your work and personal phones, because if Rated Riot had a performance and the vocalist wasn’t there, it was likely those three who were to blame. They were the only ones who knew Jungkook longer than you did, and they seemed to take pride in the fact that they had successfully been causing you headaches for seven years now.
“Sid and Jude,” you repeated, “aren’t worried they’ll lose their jobs if they travel to Europe abruptly?”
“No, they’re cool,” Jungkook shrugged, not catching the mockery in your voice. “I’ll text Minjun right now. Maybe he’ll come when we’re in Poland…”
“I needed confirmation by last week,” you reminded him. “At the latest.”
He glanced at you from his phone and then went back to texting. “So, why’d you ask now?”
“To double-check,” you said. “They’re going to have to book the hotels themselves. Or sleep on the street. Honestly, I don’t really—”
“So, uh,” Yoongi interrupted before another argument could begin, “how many hotels this time?”
“Prague, Amsterdam, and Paris. And, depending on flight time, maybe two nights in London,” you said with an apologetic smile. “Bring your favourite blankets. We’re living on buses for the next three months.”
None of them minded – if anything, you could see a little glitter in their eyes as they listened to you. Being on the road and having to sleep on the tour bus every night was an experience they’d missed. They hadn’t gone on an actual tour in almost a year – as someone who thrived on live performances, they had obviously missed this.
Really, you’ve missed it, too. Rated Riot may have been a riot to look after as their manager – pun fully intended – especially on tour, but they were your riot to deal with.
You liked your job and the challenges that came with it, because, in the end, you overcame most of them: starting with your previous relationship with Jungkook (no one in the band had a problem with it, and the label miraculously seemed not to know about it) and ending with your relatively young age (Jungkook was the only one who had a problem with you being his age, but he had a problem with almost everything).
Hopefully, one day you’d manage to overcome the challenge that was getting Jungkook to open his eyes and realise that the people he surrounded himself with were more groupies than his friends. But all in due time.
“If you have questions,” you said as the meeting approached its’ conclusion, “go right ahead.”
“Wake-up calls,” Yoongi said. “Any possibility of arranging those?”
You smiled – this had been traditional practice ever since you started to work with them.
“I’ll call,” you said and then remembered a particularly frustrating way in which this had backfired. You added, “and keep you on the phone until you’re out of bed.”
Back when you were an assistant manager to a different band, this had been your main task. And, you supposed, if Rated Riot had assistant managers, they’d be the ones making wake-up calls, too – however, the band had only started to live up to their potential now. Before you booked the European tour for them, Jett Records thought they barely needed one manager to begin with.
You’ve made it this far. If the tour went well, maybe you’d get to expand your team as the band gained popularity.
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Jungkook felt giddy the whole night. The Reconnaissance show with Taehyung and Luna was a lot of fun, as expected—he’d seen the band five times before tonight, and they never failed to let him down.
When he arrived at the after-party, he was nearly vibrating with excitement—on top of everything, he was going on tour tomorrow and he knew he might lose his mind over it—and this was usually the time when he tended to get reckless.
He did drink a little too much to retain a completely sober mind, but he stayed true to his word and did not wander anywhere or caused any—serious—trouble. You would have said that’s because Sid and Jude weren’t with him, but Jungkook was convinced it was because he simply had great self-control when he put his mind to it.
The only place he went to after the party was his family’s house, so he could say goodbye to his grandma. She probably wouldn’t even hear him—and if she would, then she probably wouldn’t recognise him—but he couldn’t leave to Europe without saying goodbye to her.
He thought he’d take his Katana to the house, but then remembered immediately the last time he got on his motorcycle drunk – his grandma had, literally, smacked him on the back with a rolling pin, yelling about how careless he was. She didn’t say that she hit him out of concern for his safety—that was obvious—and, instead, she focused on how hard he’d worked on restoring the bike after he’d bought it; his first purchase with the money that he made off Rated Riot’s music.
“Don’t you want it to last?” she had said then. She’d been the only person who believed he could bring the bike to life, despite it not having a single properly functioning part, least of all the engine. “You worked so hard on it. Do you want to wreck it in one night?”
Tonight, however, everyone in the house was asleep when he arrived. It was quiet, so he tried to be silent as he went up the stairs to her room—and then knocked over a picture frame after his feet fumbled on the carpet in the hallway. But no one went out to check who was making the noise—which was dangerous, he realised for a brief, semi-sober second; but the house had security, so he figured they were safe from outsiders—and he gently lowered the handle on his grandma’s door, peering inside.
The room was painted in blue hues from the night light next to the bed where his grandma was sleeping. He approached—really trying to be quiet this time—and carefully pulled her comforter up, so she wouldn’t get cold, even though the room felt warm.
It was always warm here and Jungkook had to bite his lip when he realised how much he missed sitting here as a child while dozens of his cousins ran around the house and wreaked loud, childish havoc. How much he missed his grandma reading him books—never children’s stories, he always insisted she read him the thickest, most boring books he could find on her shelves, just so he could stay in her room longer, listening to her soothing voice and feeling her comforting warmth.
Sniffling quietly, he leaned closer to her and brushed a strand of white hair from her face, listening to her soft breathing as she slept, unaware of his presence.
“I’ll be back soon,” he promised in a whisper as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. She didn’t wake. “We will talk again then.”
He knew he’d keep this promise even if she didn’t hear it, even if she didn’t remember. But leaving her room felt painful and he was far less excited now. The alcohol had begun to wear off and heaviness settled in his chest instead. This happened sometimes when he was left alone with his thoughts, especially after he visited his grandma.
He'd come back, he knew he would. But as he glanced at his grandma’s sleeping frame one more time—remembering how she hadn’t called him by his name in months; not one glint of recognition in her eyes when she’d see him—he wondered if he’d have anyone to come back to.
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Surprising exactly no one, Jungkook was the only one who did not answer your wake-up call the next morning. Having foreseen this, you’d already called Hoseok, Yoongi and Taehyung – in that order, because the first two took the longest to wake up, and by that time, Taehyung was already awake on his own – and only then attempted to reach the one remaining member.
Fifteen minutes later, you were already dressed and ready to drive over to his house and personally wake him up with an icy bath in bed. And just then, your phone rang – his name as the caller’s ID.
“Look who—”
“Okay, okay,” Jungkook’s groggy voice cut you off before you could greet him with the appropriate sarcastic remark. “I’m awake. Halfway in the shower.”
“I don’t hear running water.”
He responded with a groan first, then shuffling. You waited patiently, balancing the phone on your shoulder as you unlocked the door of your apartment. Finally, you could hear the water start running on the other end of the call.
“Happy?” Jungkook asked, always the brightest of all rays of sunshine in the morning.
“Ecstatic,” you replied, equally as enthusiastically. “Sending a car to pick you up in half an hour. Don’t be late.”
“I can drive myself—”
“No driving when you’re hungover,” you said, not for the first time. “In fact, don’t even go near your Katana.”
He considered several ways to respond to you; first and foremost, defending his beloved, navy-coloured Suzuki Katana with a matte coating, custom-made leather seat covers, golden rims, purring engine, and—anyway. He ended up choosing to respond with a question, “how do you know I’m hungover?”
“I’ve known you for almost ten years,” you replied. “If you go out drinking the night before, you’ll wake up hungover.”
“Well, how do you know I drank that much last ni—?”
“Listen,” you cut him off, hoisting your suitcases over the threshold of your front door. You fixed your phone against your cheek and continued, “how about you take that shower, and we’ll resume this nice little Q&A at the airport?”
“No,” he replied and, in a purposefully exaggerated breathy voice said, “I simply can’t stop talking to you.”
“Hanging up now.”
Jungkook laughed as he listened to the beep, indicating the end of the call. Putting his phone on the side of the sink, he took his shirt off and was about to continue undressing when his phone vibrated and nearly fell off the sink.
Scrambling to catch it, he smacked it against the cupboard and exhaled in relief when he saw that the screen hadn’t cracked. He was expecting a text from you – a threat, in case he’d go back to bed – but it was actually Sid, asking for the time of his flight.
His friends were taking a separate flight out to Prague – they weren’t happy about it and neither was he, but at least they’d get to hang out in Europe eventually – and, obviously, they wanted to know what time they’d meet up and where.
He double-checked the itinerary you’d emailed him, got confused about the time zone difference and texted Sid back.
“Gonna be there the day before the show,” his text said, “jetlag. Sleep. Maybe beer? Catch u there.”
Sid was, of course, delighted to hear the mention of beer and Jungkook snickered to himself before he resumed undressing for his shower—knowing from experience that you wouldn’t be above shipping him to Prague in the cargo section on the plane if he was late to the airport.
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As it turned out, for the first time in his life, Jungkook was so terribly jet-lagged, that he did not feel like doing anything – not even drinking with friends – but sleeping.
He slept through the whole layover in Paris – and, consequently, through Taehyung and Luna’s stories about the 5 minutes they got to spend in front of the Eiffel Tower before rushing back to the airport (never mind that it was about 2 AM) – as well as the flight to Prague.
He only woke up on the bus ride to the hotel when he felt something nudging his lips and opened his eyes to find an open bottle of Coca-Cola in your hands as you held it by his face.
“Did you just—” he started to say, but his voice sounded brittle, more a croak than a voice, really. He cleared his throat and tried again, “did you just wake me up by making me sniff soda?”
“It worked,” you replied, nudging the bottle at him again. “Drink. You need sugar. You didn’t eat anything on the plane here.”
“I had that bagel on the flight to Paris,” he mumbled, but sat up properly and took the bottle from you.
“That was a croissant,” you clarified. It was almost cute to see him barely awake. “And I warned you about flying with a hangover. You did this to yourself.”
“I’m fine,” he replied after taking a big gulp of coke. “Not sure which day it is, but other than that, I’m perfect. Do you have anything for headaches?”
Snickering, you nodded. “Yeah, give me a second.”
You went to fetch your carry-on bag and returned with ibuprofen, which allowed him to go back to sleep until you arrived at the hotel. The other members were also in and out of slumber, but that was their own fault. You and the other girls on this tour, which, really, only meant Luna— Taehyung’s girlfriend—and Maggie—the tour photographer—had planned ahead and taken sleeping pills as soon as the plane took off. Meanwhile, every man on this trip thought too much of himself.
By the time you arrived to the hotel and checked in, it was already lunchtime. If this had been your first time travelling with Rated Riot, you would have been beyond surprised to see what effect food had on them: they looked like they'd just returned from the most refreshing vacation in the Caribbean. Lively conversation and cheerful laughter echoed around the table – no one would have guessed that they’d just spent over 13 hours on airplanes. Their recovery was nearly always miraculous.
And, naturally, since they were feeling better, they wanted to do something as soon as the first rehearsal was over. You had far too many things to do before the show tomorrow, so you couldn’t babysit them – again, an assistant manager would have been life-saving – but you knew you’d still have to keep an eye on them.
Taehyung and Luna went sightseeing, but they were the sort who kept you updated on their adventures through pictures, which you were endlessly grateful for. There was never a reason to worry here; if you were a teacher who had to pretend not to have a favourite student, Taehyung would be the student you were pretending about.
Yoongi and Hoseok, initially, went to a record store together, but then split up – one of them returned to the hotel for a nap, and the other one went café-hopping. Those two were also fine – they usually took some members of the crew with them anyway, so you knew that in the worst-case scenario, you’d still have several people you could call to reach them.
Now Jungkook was going to meet up with Sid and Jude, both of whom had, most unfortunately, successfully landed in Prague. The Diabolical Duo would take him out drinking, you had no doubt about it – and this was where you’d have to step in with another warning. You weren’t the angry mother, dragging her children by their ears, but you felt it necessary to remind Jungkook of what was at stake if he allowed his friends to be their usual, obnoxious selves tonight.
However, you didn’t want to ask, so you had to figure out where to find them yourself. You didn’t even have to use the seven years that you’ve known them to deduce two logical, universal-for-all-assholes things: one, Jungkook’s friends wouldn’t be nearly tired enough not to want to drink. Two, they’d be too jet-lagged to look for their usual hole-in-the-wall spot that sold drinks. Therefore, they’d have to settle for the bar of the hotel.
And when you exited the elevator on the ground floor later that night, your assumption was confirmed – you could hear their laughter from where you were standing in the lobby.
You’d texted Jungkook as you arrived, hoping he’d leave his friends and come see you at the back of the bar for a minute, but unfortunately, Sid and Jude noticed you and waved you over with loud cheers.
Embarrassed as the people in booths around you began to turn to look, you swallowed and walked towards the front where Jungkook and his friends were sitting by the bar.
“Wow, it’s been so long!” Jude exclaimed as you approached. In your opinion, it wasn’t nearly long enough, but you only lifted the corners of your lips and did not comment.
“Jungkook, a moment?” you said instead.
“Let’s get you a drink!” Sid suggested as though you hadn’t spoken and extended a hand, clicking his fingers to get the bartender’s attention. “Hey! Can we get some Margaritas here?”
You cringed watching this, but, again, restrained yourself. They could behave like pricks all they wanted; it wasn’t their reputation that you had to protect. Someone else would, hopefully, teach them a lesson.
“Sure,” Jungkook said to you, sliding off the stool. He seemed sober enough to walk without any sort of waddling or stand without swaying, but you could tell by the relaxation behind his eyes, that he was already tipsy.
His friends patted him on the back and whistled as he followed you to a quieter spot in the back of the bar. He shook his head at them—but had a grin on his face, and for that alone you wanted to punch him.
“Can I count on you to take it easy?” you asked, once the two of you were out of earshot. “Not because you’ll make my job much harder if you don’t, but because you have a rehearsal tomorrow at eight, and that’s hard with the jet lag alone, but add a hangover into the mix, and—”
“I’ll be fine,” he said, but you’ve heard this song many times before. It was one of his top hits. “I’m actually tired, so I might have a few and then go straight to bed.”
“Okay,” you said, choosing to believe him, because that was easier than making him sign a contract, swearing not to wake up in a dumpster. “Can you text me when you’re back in your room? So I know you’re not lost somewhere in Prague with Dumb and Dumber.”
His lip twitched in an almost-smile at the nickname, but he resisted – a loyal friend, even if they didn’t deserve it – and gave you a nod.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll text you. And I won’t get lost.”
“Okay—” you started to say and then squinted your eyes at him, realizing. “I meant don’t go wandering the city streets while drunk.”
He snorted and placed a hand on your left shoulder. Gazing into your eyes, he enunciated very dramatically, “I will not get into trouble. Promise.”
You pursed your lips. “You’d better not.”
“I realise what that would mean, believe it or not,” he said, straightening. “Tomorrow is an important day. I’d never do anything to ruin it.”
“I know,” you said. “I trust you to make smart choices. I don’t trust them.”
You pointed at the twosome by the bar – both of them watching you like you were the entertainment of the night – and Jungkook turned to look. Sid and Jude both immediately waved at him. Jungkook waved back and, when he looked at you again, he was smiling softly.
Clearly, he genuinely enjoyed hanging out with those two. You’d never believe that there was anything about them that was bearable—let alone enjoyable—so Jungkook’s weird attachment to them had to come from some sort of weird destructive force inside of him.
“I’ll keep them in check,” he said and then, possibly prompted by the skeptical frown on your face, he felt the need to explain, “they help me relax. If it weren’t for them, I’d probably be shaking from anxiety all the time. Kind of like you are.”
He winked as he said that last part, grinning at his own wit, but you rolled your eyes in response.
“Goodnight,” you said then. “Don’t forget to text me.”
“Are you going to stay up late waiting for my text?” his tone was humorous and it stopped you from leaving.
“Hopefully not,” you said, ignoring the flirty comment that was obviously meant to rattle your composure. “But it’d do you well to remember that I can make life very difficult for you if you disobey me.”
He lifted his eyebrows at this, but did not lose the grin. “Oh? Will I get punished if I—”
“Goodnight, Jungkook,” you said again—louder—and turned away.
You glanced over your shoulder when you reached the archway leading to the lobby and caught him watching you leave—he was still beaming, but he composed himself and nodded when he caught your eye. You nodded back.
Maybe he really would be fine tonight.
And, truly, Jungkook had meant what he’d said – he couldn’t wait for tomorrow and there was nothing he’d do to ruin that. Not even if the smirking faces of his friends prompted him to laugh as soon as he returned to his seat by the bar.
“What do you want, assholes?” he asked, punching Jude on the shoulder as he walked past his friends. As soon as he sat down, leaving Sid in the middle, he took a big gulp of the beer he’d left waiting; only his third one tonight.
“We don’t want anything,” Jude said, still smirking. “What did she want? Another moral how you’re not being a good boy?”
Jungkook rolled his eyes. “No—”
“I was always curious,” Sid interrupted. “Was she like that when you dated, too? You know, always in charge?”
Even before you and Jungkook had settled into a steady enough rhythm of working with each other, neither of you spoke to others about your relationship. Not while you were dating, and not after you broke up. So, all your friends—real friends and whoever the hell Sid and Jude were—essentially knew nothing of your relationship.
And there was nothing he’d tell them now.
It’s been four years since you broke up—plenty of time to move on. Not to mention, you were both (trying to be) professionals. There was no point to bring back the past; there never had been.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jungkook teased, managing to keep the banter going without revealing how the question irked something inside him.
“I would. That’s why I asked,” Sid replied, laughing haughtily. A few heads turned his way. Sid sounded very much like an entitled heir—or an elephant high on helium—when he laughed, especially when there was nothing funny going on. “I mean, you never talked about her to us. Was it getting rid of her that made you who you are today?”
Jude snorted, slapping Sid on the back in a half-supportive, half-warning manner. Jungkook knew that the level of your patience for his friends ranged from Sid (no patience) to Jude (case-by-case), to Minjun (bearable)—and he could see why.
“I didn’t get rid of her,” he said, an edge to his voice. “We broke up and moved on. Did you hear from Minjun?”
Sid laughed again—even louder than before; the glasses behind the bar seemed to clatter.
“Look at him, trying to change the topic!” he wheezed, looking at Jude over his shoulder.
“Leave him be, man,” Jude said and nodded at Jungkook. “So many girls around us and this dumbass is still hung up on your ex, huh?”
Jungkook finished his beer and held the liquid behind his cheeks for a second before swallowing. He caught the bartender’s eye and lifted his empty glass, indicating a refill.
“I don’t think I’m the one who’s hung up,” Sid said with a very knowing look in his eye.
Jungkook looked at him and raised his eyebrows—surprised and momentarily distracted from his drink. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Well, you come to her as soon as she calls, like a puppy,” Sid replied. “So, you tell me.”
“I have to come when she calls,” Jungkook defended. “She’s my manager.”
“Yeah, dumbass,” Jude said, slapping Sid on the back of the head this time. “She’s his manager.”
Jungkook suddenly found himself smiling when he realised that you’d probably consider this the reason why Sid acted the way he did sometimes – permanent brain damage from Jude’s incessant slaps.
“Well, then someone,” Sid said, angrily accentuating the word—the anger was clearly directed at Jude, but the pronoun at Jungkook, “has a fucking crush on their manager.”
“I don’t have a crush—”
Sid spoke over him, “I bet you could never get her to go out with you again.”
Jungkook saw the bartender approach to pour him a drink and he heard Jude scoffing, but he could only blink, taken aback by what sounded like an accusation.  “Why—why would I even—why—”
“Oh, see, see?!” Sid screeched, turning to Jude with a triumphant expression. Jude gave him a pitiful look—and looked about ready to give him a black eye, too. “He knows I’m right, it’s why he’s stuttering!”
“Dude,” Jude said slowly. “You are yelling.”
Jungkook cleared his throat, nodding at the bartender as a thank-you and then bringing his refilled glass to his lips. “And I’m not stuttering.”
“You so are, my man,” Sid taunted, patting Jungkook on the shoulder with so much force, the beer nearly spilled from the glass and from his mouth. “Your ass is so whipped, you’re going to be singing at her wedding to some random producer.”
Suddenly hyper-aware that there were several producers on tour with them right now, Jungkook put his drink down and straightened in his seat.
“I’m not fucking singing at weddings,” he said.
“Not yet,” Sid pointed out, grinning. He knew he'd gotten under his skin.
“Okay, come on now,” Jude interjected, leaning back in his seat to be able to see Jungkook. “You promised you’d sing at my wedding.”
“As if anyone would ever marry you,” came Sid’s snide.
“You shut the fuck up,” Jude snarled, but there was no malice behind his bark. “I have more chances of marrying someone than he has of marrying his manager.”
“He—oh, fuck!” Sid was about to argue, but then burst into laughter—so loud and thunderous again, that the bartender was forced to glance over at the security guards by the entrance to the bar. “That’s good! You’re so right!”
“Both of you are fucking idiots,” Jungkook spoke. The edges of his vision were red. “I could get her to go out with me again if I wanted to.”
“Oh, sure, sure,” Sid nodded, wiping invisible tears from his eyes. “Big talk.”
“Jungkook, no offense, my dude,” Jude said, leaning forwards this time. “Let him have this one. Sid may be dumber than box of rocks, but he’s got a point here. Forget about her.”
Another insinuation that had Jungkook throwing his head back in frustration.
“There’s nothing to forget!” he groaned. “What the fuck are you even talking about? I just fucking told you I moved on.”
“So why are you getting all riled up, then?” Sid smirked, more and more satisfied with each curse that he provoked out of him.
Jungkook felt even angrier, because he was getting riled up, but he had a good reason for it. He enjoyed banter as much as the next person, but he did not enjoy mockery at his own expense—especially not the kind that involved you.
He snapped back, “because you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
His friends snickered at this – convinced that his irritation only proved the point they were both making – and Jungkook clenched his jaw, annoyed.
“If anything,” he added sharply as he picked his beer up—as if that could somehow distance him from this conversation, “it’s her who’s still hung up on me.”
That was a cheap, childish defence, and everyone by the bar knew it.
“Yeah, right!” Sid cried out, but resisted from laughing again. “We’ve heard her yell at you more times than we can count. You fucking wish she was still hung up on you.”
“Okay, to be fair, Sid can probably only count to five,” Jude added—Sid finally punched him on the shoulder—as he toyed with the paper umbrella on his fourth cocktail; the Margaritas they’d ordered were long gone. “But he’s right, you know? You’d never get her to go out with you again.”
There was pity in Jude’s voice—as if he felt sorry that Jungkook lived in denial, chasing after you and convincing himself that it was only a matter of time before you’d come back to him.
This made Jungkook’s temper vile, his face red, hot, and angry. He slammed his beer back on the table, forcing some of it to spill. “Yes, I fucking would!”
Sid was hiccupping as he laughed.
“Okay, okay, listen—let’s make a proper bet,” he managed. He picked up a napkin from the bar top, then looked around for something to write on it with—not finding anything, he stood up from his seat and leaned over the bar, grabbing a pen before the bartender could notice. “$1000 says you can’t get her to go on a date with you again.”
He glanced at Jude for approval—Jude shrugged.
“I’d suggest $500,” he said. “We don’t want to rob him blind.”
Jungkook’s face remained stoic, prideful.
“Fine with me. But you have no idea what you’re getting yourselves into,” he bit.
“Oh, that’s right, he’s been awfully cocky about the whole thing, hasn’t he?” Sid spoke, addressing his rhetorical question at the bar. He wrote something on the napkin and then lifted it to show the number “4000” to Jungkook. “How about this: Jude and I each pay you $2000 if you win. But if you lose, you give us your Katana.”
Jungkook lifted his eyebrows, the sudden mention of his bike catching him off-guard. Sid came from old money, he could afford fifteen brand-new motorcycles with the change he found in his suitcase, probably.
“How is that fair?” he asked. “Do you even know how much a Suzuki costs these days? It’s not $4000, I can tell you that much.”
“Why should you care?” Sid asked, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You were so confident about winning the bet just a second ago. Scared you’ll lose after all?”
In his defence, Jungkook did hesitate for half a moment. But there was a shit-eating grin on Sid’s mouth that he wanted to wipe off more than anything else, and he downed the rest of his beer in one big gulp—a showcase of his determination.
“Not at all,” he said then. He wasn’t sure if he was lying as he said this, but he had no time to figure that out. He extended his hand at Sid. “Get your money ready.”
Here, he was putting up a front – this wasn’t about the money at all. It was more a thing of pride; they were teasing him, purposefully making fun of him—and he wanted to prove them wrong, regardless if they were actually wrong.
Smirking, Sid shook his hand—cementing the bet between all three of them, as Jude was busy finishing off his cocktail—and was about to say something when Jungkook jumped off his stool.
“Have to go now,” he said, always a show-off with his overly creative comebacks when he was tipsy. “My horoscope predicts a date and a big fortune in my near future. Got to prepare.”
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chapter title credits: sleep token, “rain”
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special shout-out & thank you to @eleni-cherie who delivered the much-appreciated kicks in the ass, so that i would keep writing. the odds were really against me, so if it weren't for you & our in-depth fanfic discussions, i definitely wouldn't even be writing this note right now, let alone finally starting this story 💜
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aseaofyoongi · 7 months
Text
my heart did | jjk
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jeon jungkook x reader (f)
genre: e2l | bully romance | smut | angst
rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)
summary: as soon as senior years comes to an end a lot of teens shed who we were and strive to be flourish into a more polished version of themselves. although, broken hearts aren’t so quick to heal what happens when thoughts reveal all we need to know?
warnings: lets begin.. themes and mentions of bullying; brief physical violence; brief mention of blood; bickering; denial of feelings; mention of less than ideal parents; cliche high school themes (in flashbacks); foul language; oral (m. receiving); penetrative and unprotected sex; clitoral stimulation; nipple play; thigh riding; vag fingering; overstimulation; sub!jjk themes - he is a good boy; he uh.. arrives on her face.. anyways; i hate this trope ugh but miscommunication; jjk has a big d!; not edited.
word count: 25,5 thousand words
posted: wed sept. 6, 2023 at 12:28PM
notable songs: like i want you - giveon | thinkin bout you - frank ocean | like or like like - miniature tiger | war of hearts - ruelle | sunday morning - maroon5 🎧
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The sun is now setting. 
Behind you as the last hours of the late summer evening approached the sun was beginning to finally pucker its lips against the horizon, as a result, the sky became dusted with hints of deep orange, yellow and purple. The clock finally struck nine o’clock and you couldn’t help but slump down on the palms of your hands, sitting behind the main desk on the same stool you had been since the beginning of your shift. Your pupils followed as the little hands on the clock hung on the opposite wall seemed to move slower and slower, completely freezing you in time. 
Fucking Mondays. 
You sighed. When you had initially signed up for the work study position at the library you thought things would be just a bit different. 
For example, you thought being a staff member here would get you free access to course books and materials but that wasn’t the case. Right before you’d been hired, some idiot named Yoongi who worked behind the help desk at the computer lab was caught selling copies of the course materials to multiple students on campus. 
Like—right before you were hired and now that privilege had been swiped right off the tip of your fingers the moment your member badge had been printed. 
Secondly, time behind that rotating door at the main entrance just stopped. No, more like slammed down on the brakes abruptly the moment you crossed that threshold. There were no warnings or brake lights or even a bright sign to apprise in advance. 
Another drawn out sigh escaped your lips. 
There was no exaggeration in your boredom, however, besides the ‘promises’ of saving money on school materials vanishing entirely, you still needed the monetary earnings so you hid behind a fabricated smile and immediately accepted the job offer happily. 
Well, as happily as you could be. 
God, you were jaded. Five after nine. Only five minutes had gone by yet it felt like an eternity. 
Your mind was on overdrive yet your body remained stationed in the same exact place—in the same exact position. Not a single tendon transposed and they constricted your muscles in place. You were there sort of glued to the metal surface of the stool but fuck did you wanted to move. 
Needed to actually. You needed a sort of mobile stimulation but still you couldn’t seem to get your arms and legs to comply. Not until your focus circled around your extremities and your need to just fucking. . do something. 
You crossed your legs to the left, then to the right, then you hung your legs on the wooden bar under the desk to give them a rest from just hanging on your side, then you sat with your legs spread open before realizing you wore a skirt and you quickly pressed your thighs together tightly. Shift after shift you grew more angsty, more impatient, more exasperated with the sluggish speed the hours of the night adopted. 
Slowly, you reached into your bag and unwrapped a piece of gum before sticking it in your mouth. You chewed slowly. Seven after nine, only two minutes have gone by since you last looked at the time. 
Okay, maybe if you number your chews to the rhythm of each second then time will somehow speed by. Right? You began your countdown backwards from sixty. 
You chewed down on the watermelon flavored stick of gum. Sixty. 
Again, fifty-nine. 
And, again,  fifty-eight. 
Once more, fifty-seven. 
In just a matter of minutes the sky behind you turned pitch black and finally the stars came out to play, they pranced around dancing in the sparkling delight and you couldn’t really help but envy their freedom as they lived without confinement. 
“Tell me something. .” You quickly registered that irritating tone, that very familiar and insipid, absolutely annoying and vexing tone. The same one which sent a bubbling shot of acid to course into your bloodstream every time you were faced with the disdain of hearing it, “should I reprint you a copy of the employee manual? Last time I checked skirts above the knee and gum chewing are strictly prohibited in the work place.” 
You leaned your head to the side, narrowing your eyes in his direction as he stood by the doorframe, “you’re not the supervisor, let alone the manager,” you murmured through gritted teeth, “fuck off.” 
He shook his head slowly while clicking his tongue. He was mocking you, the little shit was mocking you, “Not a manager. Just someone who likes to enforce the rules especially comes to you.” 
“Rule enforcer?” you scoffed, chewing louder and louder as you chomped down, purposefully smacking your gum in the process, “sounds a lot like you being a little bitch. I guess it’s all just the same to me.” 
“Bitch?” he guffawed. 
“Yes, that’s what I said,” you challenged. 
“Mini skirt, gum chewing, and foul language. You’re really making this so easy for me,” he mocked. 
The extent of your interactions were always, always, reduced to this. Just the endless streaks of taunting, the continuity of poking at each other buttons beyond forgiveness, and to top it all of the boiling irritation cooking up in the pit of your stomach. 
As far back as you could remember there wasn’t an ounce of amiability in the mixture of your interactions together. 
You and him met the summer before the ninth grade. From there on you knew him once classes began. Well ‘knew’ was a very loose term in this situation. The two of you were just teens, fifteen years old to be exact, in the same school, in the same home room, yet from different cliques. 
His brown eyes drank you in like he was consuming every inch of your soul—it was invasive, intimidating, and exactly what you deserved. Deep down you were one hundred-percent sure of the fact. 
“What?” you barked. 
“Just remembering the good old time,” he smirked, “the ones where words remain your preferred and deadliest weapon.” 
What transpired from that night was nothing compared to his cold gaze and punctured words. 
Faint lights of that night sparkled into memory, years have passed but you remember every detail as if it was just yesterday. 
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The school bathroom was your least favorite place in the building, it was usually crowded with destined criminals, the stench was horrid and it was the obvious root of every ridiculous rumor to ever be birthed within the walls of Oakwood High School. 
You leaned against the white ceramic sink, your back faced the stained plastic mirror as you faced him sitting on top of the toilet tank. He was the personification of trouble, the very synonym of everything you needed to stay away from. 
The two of you came from two different worlds. 
He was draped and wrapped up in a black hoodie, complemented by dark distressed jeans while his rugged and muddy boots stained found camp on the toilet seat, staining it beyond repair. 
“What exactly is it that you need from me?” he asked, his tone wasn’t as stern or deep as you usually heard around the halls. There was a slight stutter; a falter. 
“It’s more than one thing,” you exhaled, your eyes flickered between him and the stall just to the right of him, “. .that I need from you.” 
He hummed, “go on.” 
The sun trickled in through the foggy windows and it embellished very detail, every feature that you had never once before noticed on the boy before you. His eyes were giant orbs almost doe like, his lips were a deep taint of roseate the same one which dusted the apples of his cheeks. There was a certain delicate look behind the dark aura he cemented within himself. 
You took paced steps in his direction feeling just a bit dizzy the closer you became. 
Perhaps, it was that overbearing piss smell. 
Or, perhaps, you just didn’t want to go through with this. You wanted to call this off but there was this fervent exhilaration burning just below your skin—you wanted to continue speaking to him, you wanted to envelop yourself in the softness of his lips. 
But this wasn’t right but you couldn’t help the guidance of your feet, until finally you stood right before him. 
Up close his eyes were prettier, shinier yet darker and you easily found yourself swimming in them engulfed in vastness simulating the bottomless sea. 
He was everything you wanted and everything you needed to stay away from. 
Two different people. Two different worlds. 
“Are you going to tell me what you need?” 
“I think,” your palm landed on his knee for support as you climbed onto the toilet seat taking a seat on his lap, “it’s much better if I show you.” 
By now, and by the radicle of his reputation you expected for him to push you right off his life, for him to gargle the disgust in the back of his throat and regurgitate it right back on you. But he didn’t instead his gaze intently followed you every move, he probably already noticed your quivering figure hiding behind your confident facade. 
There was no shaking off this nervousness, even but in your mind you reminded yourself that you were you and he was simply him. 
“Show me what exactly?” he swallowed, his Adam's bobbed distinctively, “you know this is the first time you’ve ever uttered a single word in my direction.” 
“I highly doubt that,” you hid your nervousness behind the security of your confident tone. 
“It’s true,” he continued, “I bet you have never even noticed that my locker is directly across from yours.” 
“Wait. .” You hooked your bait, hanging it low over his head attempting to reel him in once and for all, “do you spend your time in the halls looking at me?” 
“I never said—“ 
Your palms found their way up to towards the back of his neck and you inched closer to his face vividly detailing the golden tone of his glowing skin. 
You never noticed before, he was always an arm’s length away, which was probably your fault to begin with, but he was truly beautiful. 
“You did kind of imply it.” 
“I don’t think it works that way.” 
“Does to me.” 
His eyes remained on your lips as you tucked your lower lip under your upper teeth.  There was an unreadable expression ignited behind his pupils, something you’ve never seen before, not behind the frigid gaze of your best friends and it certainly wasn’t present in the way your boyfriend looked at you either. 
It held the comfort of tenderness and it wrapped you right into his warm embrace. 
“You know, you keep averting my question.” 
“Remind me, once again,” you smiled softly, “what is it that you wanted to know.” 
“What do you want to show me?” you pursed out your lower lip before licking them agonizingly slowly to almost emphasize their plumpness. While coating them in a thin layer  of the sheen shininess from your saliva. That put him in a trance, his eyes were locked on you intently. It’s working. 
“Kiss me,” you whispered, your lips hovered right over his, the waft of your paced breath fanned one another. His mouth was enveloped with the cool aromatic scent of mint. You liked that a lot—it drew you in. 
He froze against the white tiled wall behind him, his eyes were closed and he waited in anticipation of your lips finally meeting his. Instead, you took the liberty of snapping a mental picture. One you knew you would hang in the forefront of your mind for a very very long time, because after today, after the tones of both of your pink lips finally meshed together everything would go to shit. 
And it would all be your fault. 
“For someone who’s begging to kiss me you sure are taking your sweet time.” 
The pads of your fingers brushed against his velvet lips as they spread wide depicting his smile, in turn you’d notice the way that very smile trickled to everyone of his features. From the dimples impaling his honey cheeks to his scrunched up nose and brows scrunched up together. 
“I’m not begging,” you objected, laying against his chest—he was broad you could tell even under the dark clothes and he felt firm. All you wanted was to be cocooned in his heated touch. 
Even in the scorching summer his warmth is.. a solace. You didn’t mind being consumed by it burning in the flames ignited by his touch. 
“I asked. Just curious to know if you would even want to kiss me,” say no, run away, run away from me, you yelled at him in your head. 
“Curious?” 
You hummed, “So.. Do you wanna?” 
“Kiss you?” 
You hummed again, “I’m not asking for your hand in marriage. It’s just one kiss.” 
“Just a kiss?” He asks a lot of questions. 
“Okay,” he breathed. 
There were many things you forbid yourself from submitting to at the expense of your insatious desires. This included consuming sweets past eight o’clock, drinking any type of soda, and even suppressing anything you’ve ever felt for anyone in return for the validation of others. Deep behind the rhythmic beating of your heart you knew this should’ve also included kissing him. You knew you should’ve backed off, said no, avoided him as if he was something you ran away from. 
But you couldn’t help but be guided here by the pure delight of getting to have this for once. You wanted to be selfish and drown in those very desires you didn’t dare act on prior to today. Not under self-induced circumstances instead something you know could hurt him right after you pulled away from his lips. 
You were a wretched person but all you think about, all you cared about was the way he inched closer towards you, rapidly closing the gap between the two of you. The only sounds bouncing off the walls were your needy pants and the thump thump which composed a song out of the beats of both of your racing hearts. 
His head tilted slightly as he leaned in, his eyes explored every inch of your face taking in every depiction of your features. And no matter how many times you could attempt to hide it—he would know. He could clearly see the birth of the flames rampant behind the tones of your eyes. 
He nudged his nose against yours, and your mouths fell together, soft and open. You closed your eyes instantly and they felt heavy, almost as if your eyelids were glued together. Though, you urged to open them, to live in every single second your lips remained connected with his, because you knew this wasn’t likely to happen again. Not after today. Not ever. 
You couldn’t help but want to bear witness to the perfectness of your lips dancing against one another. 
His mouth was silken, you found yourself melting into his body, into his lips, into his touch. Nobody had ever kissed you with the unspoken one passion he was. 
No one. Certainly not your boyfriend. 
You allowed yourself to become drunk under his trance and he fed the butterflies flapping their wings against the lining of your stomach rapidly. 
You wanted to camp in the fondness of that moment forever, and ever. and ever. . . 
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Vacating the stool you stood by the large windows facing the parking lot behind the library. However, your attention was clutched by the sparkling stars, it was a form of a distraction. You wanted to stop thinking of him, his gaze seizing your figure tracing the outline of your legs, the curves and dips between your hips and waist and finally the sneaky peaks of your collar bones under your crop top. 
His eyes were hard to read making it impossible to decipher whether he undressed you or condemned your being.  
Though, you knew you deserved the latter. 
“Words were never my weapon,” you whispered the fib hoping that you would believe it if you heard it outloud. It didn’t work. 
He chuckled, “right. . your lips were the blades that pierced my heart and your words were the bullets that finished me off.”
“Jungkook. .” you trailed off. 
“What?” he spat, “can’t handle the truth?” 
Fuck, that hurt but you deserved it.  
“Jungkook, just shut up.” 
But his back was already turned towards you and his eyes no longer scanned you like you were the phrases typed on the pages of his favorite book. 
“I’m so. .” you began but you just couldn’t get it out. 
“There it is again,” Jungkook shook his head, clicking his tongue. 
“That’s not what I meant,” you sighed, collecting your thoughts why did you always manage to say the wrong fucking thing, “I’m just trying to apologize to you for. . everything.” 
“Right. . now?” he wore a puzzled expression, his eyes squinted with skepticism. Back in highschool Jungkok was quiet, shy and mysterious. He could’ve easily flown under the radar and lived his life in the seclusion of being a wallflower. But then you happened. You in that bathroom, on his lap with his lips on yours. 
Even now, years later, you could still feel their phantom softness on yours. 
You played with the loose thread on the hem of your top averting the scrutiny of the judgment in his eyes, “better late than never.” 
“You put me through hell and I’m supposed to act as if all is forgiven. Today, because you can no longer live with that guilt?” there was a smirk plastered on his face while traces of venom laced his words. 
“That’s not the reason why…” 
“Then, why… Why?” 
Words failed to roll off the tip of your tongue, and there was a cloud of shame hanging over your head but Jungkook was resentful and cold with his words and you knew that at this point your apology would do nothing to fix what was already broken. Nevertheless, you stood there like a child being scolded because the least you could do was be the receiver of his resentment. 
“Are you looking for a shot at self redemption? To feel better about yourself? Or maybe the guilt really is eating you bit by bit. Whatever it may be I don’t forgive you and I never will. You wanna know why? Because unlike others I’m not convinced that people like you can change,” he continued, there was a rampant anger burning in his eyes now, “you look back on our time in high school and feel this sense of. . relief that you were who you were. There is not an ounce of your being that would go back and change things and if we were to turn back time you would still choose to be the viper who could go around injecting your venom into others at free will. I know you just want to leap over that stepping stone and prove to yourself that you have grown-up but you can’t fool me and you will not make an example out of me.” 
“That’s not. .” you drifted off, tears swelled behind your eyelids but you blinked them away, “That’s not why I wanted to do Jungkook. .” 
“No?” he asked. 
“No,” you muttered through gritted teeth, mad at your past self for being a piece of shit, mad at him for not allowing you to speak, mad at life. Everything. 
“You want me to forgive you?” 
You remained quiet. 
“Then, beg.” 
“You know what?” You quickly wiped the tear that trickled down your heated cheek, “I actually did mean to apologize but I’m not sure that you actually deserve it anymore.” 
They say what comes around goes around and you were certain this was the circle of justice you would forever be looped in the extent of your interactions with Jungkook because, this is pretty much how they always played out.  He would never forgive you and you would never be able to form the right words to ease the pain of what you have caused. There wasn’t anything that you could do or say. 
Things would always remain this way. 
He turned away from you once again, “if I don’t deserve your apology that only proves you don’t deserve my forgiveness.” 
You looked at the clock on the opposite wall, it was now finally thirty minutes past nine and you were due to go home. To be embraced by the comfort of your sheets, to bask in their warmth, something less chilling than his frigid words. 
Grabbing your bag you slipped past him hoping that you would now stoop to becoming nothing but an insipid wallflower. 
Entirely, invisible. That’s all you wanted to be. 
Fucking invisible. 
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Your cloak of invisibility was short lived because as soon as you crossed the threshold to your dorm you were met with a crowded living room. Amongst the faceless features of the random strangers spread out in the tiny space you spotted a similar face belonging to the biggest pain in your ass and roommate adjacent, Hobi. 
You trudge through the ocean of bodies, resisting the sway of the waves leading to bump to those in your way, simply wanting to get as far away from whatever this was as soon as possible. When Hobi’s eyes finally met yours you signaled him towards using your pointer finger—quickly, his smile dropped, beads of sweat adorned his temples and his head hung low. 
A party on a Monday was… Definitely, Hobiesque. 
With paced strides he stumbled towards you following you down the small corridor and into your room. Hobi’s eyes hung low, the buttons on his shirt hung open all the way down to the pit of his stomach, his cheeks were red and puffy, his hair the right amount of disheveled, and he had a tight grasp on a nearly empty red solo cup (it definitely didn’t look like it was his first or last drink). The  lights were dimmed but even under the shitty lighting there was a bright glimmer outlining his figure. 
“Now, before we begin this intervention,” his words were a bit slurred, “I had a really shitty day.” 
“Yeah, that makes two of us,” you hung your bag on the hook behind the door and threw your keys on the desk. 
He slumped down on your bed and stared up at the ceiling with a blank expression—you weren’t sure if the shift in his usual energetic charisma was due to the alcohol but you didn’t like it. You were so used to seeing his heart shaped lips spread into wide curves showcasing the amiability of his colorful personality. 
“Okay, which one of us should go first?” he asked. 
“Don’t you have a party to get back to?” you sat by the pillows on the bed, your back leaning against the headboard, your legs pressed up against your chest as you laid your head on your knees. 
“I’ll get back in a minute,” he replied nonchalantly, “just tell me about your day.” 
Hobi laid his head closer to your legs, quickly you found your fingers combing through the dark strands with a thin layer of sweat. There was a cool draft slipping in the room through the window left slightly ajar. The bittersweet flashes of your time in that library behind the main desk played back in your mind. 
“I saw… spoke to Jungkook tonight,” your voice was soft, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear. You and Hobi have been friends since your senior year in school and while he wasn’t there for the horrid days of your freshman year tyranny you confessed to everything you had done during those dark days—everything that happened with Jungkook. 
“Spoke?” 
You nodded. 
“You two have the same work study you’ve spoken to each other before right?” 
“Yeah, but our conversations are always reduced to nonsensical banter. He pushes my buttons and I push his, sometimes we even land a few jabs at each other when the other isn’t looking but today,” you felt at ease sitting there in Hobi’s company, the only noise surrounding the two of you came from the booming of the loudspeaker stationed in the living room, “…it was personal.”
“How personal?” he continued peering up at you with idle eyes. 
“I tried to apologize for, well you know.. everything,” you sighed, “and things didn’t really go as planned. Stupid of me I know.” 
“Definitely, not stupid. You tried to make things right. There’s no harm in that,” his thumb rubbed your hand softly as it wrapped around your shins. 
“There was definitely a lot of harm done.” 
“You’re right,” he mumbled, “what you did is not justified, but all that matters is that you are trying to make things right and we can only hope he is willing to forgive.” 
Jungkook’s vicious words played on a continuous loop in your head. He was not willing to forgive. He never would be and sincerely you couldn’t blame him for him. 
This guilt. 
It will eat you alive and as a result you will experience a slow and excruciating death. A well deserved demise and one that became written in the stars for you the moment you kissed him in that fucking bathroom. 
Still, a timid smile slowly creeped on your lips. Hobi’s hopefulness is your safety net, the only thing you could ever need to keep pushing forward. 
“Enough about me and my self-inflicted issues,” you cleared your throat, “what’s got you so down today, sunshine?” 
“We broke up.” 
You laid beside him on your bed, reaching down taking his hands into yours hoping he’d feel the same deal of comfort you do by him. 
“What happened?” you offered. 
“I was in my dance practice and he—“ he paused, “he just fucking texted me. Said he couldn’t do it anymore.”  
“Did something happen before all of this?” 
“We’ve been on a bumpy road lately,” he hesitated before continuing—you guessed it was because he was trying to structure his thoughts, “two dancers dating bring a conflict of interest into a relationship.” 
“Please tell me you guys aren’t just fighting over your choreography.” 
He remained silent before continuing. 
“You two are going to send me into cardiac arrest,” you shook your head, “I need details, Jung.” 
“Don’t call me, Jung,” Hobi poked out his lower lip, frowning, “makes me feel like I’m in trouble.” 
“I can’t be mad at you when you’re so adorably tipsy,” you pinched his rosey cheeks.
“Stoooop,” he swatted your hand away from his face while stretching out the letter ‘O,’ “I’m being serious though. I think it’s really over between Jimin and I, forreal this time.”
“You’ve said that every other time the two of you have broken up over dance.” 
“Right. .” he yawned, cozying up under your sheets while his eyes began to close. 
“Oh, no,” you smacked him upside the head with one of your cushions, “get up and go host your little party.” 
He brushed it off turning before turning away from you, his soft snores now a remix to the music playing just outside of your door, “who the fuck throws a party on a Monday. . Hoseok, get up!” 
“I know, you’re so irresponsible for letting me throw a party on a weekday.” 
“Bitch.” 
As it turns out, kicking people an hour after a party had started wasn’t as easy as it looked. Leaning against the front door you finally came face to face with the mess left behind. The music still played, though, much lower now and there was an array of empty beer cans, red solo cups and other waste decorating your living room. 
It was as if you were standing in front of the mirror looking back at yourself, you were nothing but a mess of a human being. It was uncanny. 
Although, this mess you could clean, and you would, you weren’t sure if Jungkook would ever allow you to pick up all of those broken pieces that you had shattered all of those years ago. 
For what it’s worth you really wanted to try. You wanted to make things right. 
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It is now Tuesday and the weather is horrid. 
The last time you checked, the forecast called for scattered showers and mostly cloudy days. But, now it’s one in the afternoon and as you settle down on the bench by your bay window overlooking the narrow street, the sky was overtaken by the torrent clouds weeping viciously accompanied by the occasional strikes of loud thunder. 
Usually, when the weather looked as shitty as you felt you opted for staying home and becoming enveloped in the comfort and warmth of your sheets, today would have been no different but of course luck is never present in the deck of cards paving your life, also having an irresponsible roommate usually doesn’t help in any way.
“Please, don’t forget my ginger ale,” he coughed dramatically, running his hand through his disheveled hair, “I can’t believe I feel like literal shit.”
“You can’t believe it?” You sneered, “you drank half of your alcohol supply before I even made it home and the party had only been on for like thirty minutes.”
“Fuck, I did that. Didn’t I?” 
“You did,” you playfully yanked your covers off his body, “you drunk fuck.” 
“That was my nickname in highschool,” he smiled. 
“It was,” you zipped up your rain jacket and grabbed the umbrella sitting on your desk, “now go take a hot bath and don’t throw any more parties while I’m gone.” 
You heard his infectious giggles as you closed the front door behind you. The two of you lived on the third floor so the walk down the stairs to the lobby wasn’t too unbearable. Through the clear doors of the main entrance in the rain you saw how the downpour fogged up the path ahead. Namseok’s Kitchen is only a five minute walk, you can do this. 
Walking out you opened your umbrella and stood still for just one minute paralized by the pitter patter of the droplets meeting your umbrella. 
It was the beat to a dreadful song you knew too well. 
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You pushed past the blue metal doors of the gymnasium. Your nostrils are no longer consumed by the smell of sweat and dirty laundry and the muffled conjunction of laughter, voices, bouncing balls, and whistles died out the minute the door closed behind you. 
Gym class was a drag and there was truly nothing worse than an hour long class period with sweaty kids in such a tiny space. Usually, you opted for walking on the track for the duration of class but that option became futile the moment it began to pour an hour ago. 
In fact it was still raining, but you stood under the navy awning covering you from becoming soaked. Your eyes are closed and you lean against the red brick wall inhaling the scent of petrichor, the resulting smell of the parched earth just as the pouring rain continues to beat anything standing right below it. The sweet aromas seeped into the air sweeping past your nose with the soft breeze that blew by. 
It was as if the earth had exhaled, emanating its distinct fragrance from millions of pinpoints all at once. Inside that smell, the seconds slowed and each moment seemed to dilute. It filled you with relief.  
Then, suddenly the remnants of your heaven became blurred and the walls holding up the roofs began to tumble down and with it a whiff of nicotine became tangled in your nose. 
Your eyes shot open and there he was, Jungkook. The boy you’d kissed a week ago in the boy’s bathroom. 
“Cigarettes are bad for you, you know..” You felt a knot in the pit of your stomach as soon as he turned. You heard what happened to him but you hadn’t gotten around to seeing him yet, you’d been avoiding him. 
“Yeah, I keep thinking I’ll quit and I can’t seem to make it past a couple of hours,” he was honest and he smiled, two characteristics you thought had died the moment your boyfriend’s fist met his face. He still had a soft purple bruise under his eye to prove it. 
“You need something else to get your mind off of it.” 
He threw the butt of the cigarette on the ground and stepped on it to put it out and leaned right beside you on the wall. Up close you saw a deep gash on the apples of his cheek, it was still red but stitched up. 
“I know.” 
“Are you really littering right now?” You eyed the discarded smoke under the tip of his chunky combat boots.
“Right, sorry miss president of ‘i love earth’ or whatever,” he bent over, picking it up and placing it in the pocket of black jeans, similar to the ones he wore that day minus the rips around the thighs. 
“It’s actually called, ‘advocates for planet earth’ for your information.” 
“I love earth sounds better,” he shrugged, “should consider the name change.”
“I’ll bring it up in our next meeting.” 
“I’m surprised,” Jungkook began, his eyebrows furrowed together and you could tell he was in a mental battle to continue, “that he lets you join cute little nerdy clubs.” 
Twenty minutes before you entered the boys bathroom last Thursday, you and your friends sat in the library during study hall, your homework long forgotten and with continued complaints of loud talking all of you had settled for a game of quiet dare or die. 
The set-up was easy. 
There were two piles out in-front of you, one die, one dare. The object of the game created by your friends was to choose a dare and record yourself completing it before the end of the school day or else you’d have to do something even more embarrassing from the die pile. 
Your dare was to graffiti the side of the school. A bit excessive, compared to the other ones which only called for kissing each other, going against school dress code for the rest of the day or skipping the last period. 
Ditching the crumpled up paper you chose a die deciding that whatever it was at least it probably wouldn’t come at the expense of being expelled. 
‘Kiss Jeon Jungkook (loser)’ it read. 
You could’ve said no but you didn’t. Instead you fed into the taunts of the very boy you’d find your eyes lingering after. The same boy who occupied your thoughts day and night, the same one who kissed you like no one else has and whose touch (though, brief)—permanently marked a trail of goosebumps only he could procure. 
“He doesn’t control me, Jungkook.” 
“He doesn’t,” Jungkook nodded, registering every gravity of your words which felt heavy on his tongue. If your boyfriend didn’t control you then that meant you had also dealt a hand at the countinuously fucked-up encounters between him and your boyfriend. But this also finally cemented the idea that you had kissed him willingly; you saw it in the way his eyes sparkled even when the sun had been hibernating for the duration of the day. 
He seemed to have finally realized that both of those could be true. That love and pain could dance together hand in hand when it came to the two of you. 
Your eyes scanned his chocolate ones, slowly reaching up using the pads of your finger to caress his cheek. They were full and warm and you were careful not to inch too close to the purple and green-ish spot under his eye. 
“Will you believe me if I tell you something?”
“Tell me.” 
“I really did enjoy that day.” You clarified, “our kiss despite what I said afterwards.” 
He chuckled, “hopefully saying me too doesn’t get me another black eye.” 
The tightness in your chest squeezed tighter and immediately you felt like you couldn’t breathe. When Jungkook was around you felt as if your heart and mind collided against each other and you were left in a daze, castaway in your own body and mind. Like, right now, your brain urged you to walk away and get as far away as possible from him but your heart called out to him and down that same path it set out a route leading to his silken lips. 
Your heart beat to a deep crescendo nearly synching to the sound of the beating rain against the awning just overhead. 
“Shouldn’t you be getting back to class?” 
Snapping out of your daydream you replied, “uh, yeah, I should get back.” 
“Okay.” 
“I’ll see you around.” 
Jungkook smiled, “I’ll see you around.” 
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The hefty winds blew your umbrella yet you remained in the same exact spot just a couple of feet away from the entrance to the dorm building. You were drenched from head to toe causing your gray sweats and hoodie to stick to you all while they weighed you down. Although you were inclined to move away from the droplets adorning your figure, your legs just would not submit to the command. 
The smell, the dark skies, and the feeling of the rain on your skin all ignited a sense of familiarity, contentment yet melancholiness. 
There were too many feelings jumbled into one. 
“If you stand here, like this, you’ll end up sick.”
You hadn’t realized your eyes were closed until the moment his voice overshadowed the roaring screams of the pouring rain. Jungkook’s outfit mimicked yours slightly but even you could admit he looked much better than you. He wore gray sweats and a gray hoodie draped off his shoulder over a white wife beater. His tattoos peeked through outlining the beginning of the sleeve following the length of his extremity down to his fingers. 
He’s breathtaking, he’s always been. 
“I wasn’t aware that my well-being was any of your concern.” 
Jungkook combed his slender digits through his jet black hair inching closer to you until his umbrella covered the both of you, “it doesn’t,” he said, “ I just figured you were either drunk or too much of an idiot to be out in this storm.” 
“Well, in that case that makes us two idiots standing out in this weather.” 
“I was not out. I’m not crazy,” he cleared his throat, “I just so happen to see you through my dorm window.” 
He came down for you, “yet here you are now.”
“Need I remind you, if I wasn’t, you’d still be out here getting soaked.” 
“Soaked,” you snickered.
“Grow up,” his voice was laced with annoyance but the rose tint on his cheeks told you everything you needed to know. 
“Where did my umbrella even go?” 
He pointed to your feet where your Converse swam in a puddle and there was your unbrella was looking as fucked up as ever. Immediately, you made a mental note to never buy umbrellas at the dollar store ever again. You supposed that’s the only thing you were good at; making one wrong decision after the other. 
You huffed, “ah, I’m okay. It’s okay, I got it from here.”
“Were you going somewhere?” 
“You don’t have to help me, Jungkook,” you didn’t dare look at him because Jungkook was good at one thing, it was peeling back at your layers with his piercing eyes. He made you feel vulnerable—bare. And you always feared the psychedelic enchantment wiring in your brain whenever he looked in your direction. 
Back then that was your excuse for not helping him, for not being a better human being. It was a shitty excuse, you know that now but you always feared your willingness to succumb to your hearts’ cries. 
You feared falling into him—falling for him. 
“Ironic, isn’t it?” He laughed, “just lead the way. I have nothing better to do anyway.” 
“I was just going down the street to Namseok’s Kitchen to get Hobi some chicken noodle soup. He isn’t feeling too well this morning.” 
“That’s only a five minute walk,” he nodded toward the path ahead, “Let’s go.” 
Five minutes felt like an eternity as the two of you walked towards your destination in utter silence. The street was pretty empty—only Jungkook, yourself and the rain remained. . And your thoughts, of course. They ran at record speed as you tried to relive every single moment from your past, you know; divulging in all the good times and wanting to fix every fucked up thing you’ve ever done. 
If only you could turn back time you’d make things right. 
In an attempt to skip another puddle, to prevent your socks from becoming sodden you accidentally moved closer to Jungkook and your elbow brushed against his. The feeling wasn’t foreign to you and it transported you to those nights, all of those moment when your bodies were so close you could smell the soap he’d used that morning, cardamom and vanilla, the scent still lingered around in your nose and you wondered if you were just hallucinating or if he actually still used the same soap. 
“While you order I’ll get us something hot,” he walked you to the glass door of the small diner, then turned towards the coffee shop across the street. 
“Jungkook!” You called out and he looked back in your direction, “Hold on,” you dug in your pocket reaching for a ten dollar bill, “Here.” 
“Just worry about the soup and get one for yourself. Your body will thank you tomorrow morning,” he shouted back. 
He disappeared into the shop as cars sped by in his shadow. You almost didn’t believe he was just right there. With you. Was he?
The bell on top of the door chimed as you walked into the restaurant, the squishing sound of your drenched shoes against the white tile bounced off of the baby blue walls. As you walked closer to the counter you wrapped yourself in a tight embrace to provide yourself with some warmth against the blasted AC. The place has always been light on decoration and made to feel more homey than anything else. There was a faux wall with photographs of customers hanging from loose thread, next to that there was a small circular table where the polaroid and its film was stationed. The remaining walls held all sorts of artworks in different shades of azure from Seokjin’s boyfriend, and Hobi’s brother, Namjoon. Towards the front was your favorite place, a bench stationed in-front of the floor to ceiling glass window. 
Namjoon approached the register, “oh no, what the fuck did he do now?” 
“He threw a party and woke up sick as fuck. I was just coming to get him some soup. He’s said he would puke anything else.” 
“And that little shit made you walk?” Seokjin walked up behind Joon taking a seat on the stool beside him. “Look at you…” he motioned towards you and you took a look at yourself in the circular mirror hung behind the two guys, a fucking mess, “you’re all wet. Did he make you come here alone?”
Before you even had the chance to answer Jinnie continued, “I’m going to kill him. You hear me?” He turned towards his boyfriend, “I am going to kill your brother.” 
Joon mumbled, “I might just join you.” 
“Before your two go on a killing spree…” you leaned against the wooden surface of the counter, “I kind of offered because I felt bad for his dumbass.”
“He still let you come all the way down here in this weather and that is enough to plan a crime,” Seokjin hissed, “Joonie will you get her a towel from the back?” 
Joon disappeared behind the beaded curtain. 
“Okay, so one soup for the idiot and one for you?” 
You nodded, “yes, chicken noodle soup please. Can you make that three though?”
“Who’s the third one for?” He raised an eyebrow staring you down like you had an intimate secret you were keeping from him. Well, technically, you were keeping some things to yourself but you weren’t lying just withholding the truth. It wasn’t the same thing. 
“It’s for the person who accompanied me here today.” 
“And who is that?” Joon asked, they were both overprotective, like older brothers, “you only have one friend and unfortunately I am related to him.” 
“Not a friend. . Just someone I know.” 
They hummed in unison exchanging suspecting looks between one another. Then, the bell on top of the door chimed once again, the same way it did when you walked in. You didn’t need to look to know who it was, his scent gave him away immediately. 
“Hi, welcome to Namseok’s kitchen,” Jin greeted him. 
“Hey,” he walked deeper into the restaurant until he finally stood right next to you as you continued drying off, “here. I got us lemongrass tea. I didn’t know what you like so I figured I get you the same as me.” 
Grabbing the to-go cup from his hand, you reply, “yeah, I like lemongrass tea.” 
You took a sip, basking in the heat of the piping hot liquid as it traveled down your throat and into your tummy. A tired whimper escaped your lips,  as you became entirely immersed in the flavors of the lemony taste exploding on your tongue. There was silence around you but you could feel three sets of eyes on you and instantaneously your eyes shot open. 
“I almost forgot Jin, Joon, this is Jungkook. Jungkook, this is Jin and Joon, Hobi’s brother and brother in law.”
“Nice to meet you.” 
“You, too,” Jinnie smiled in his direction and Joon followed suit, “Jungkook..” He repeated, “why does your name sound so familiar?” 
“I went to highschool with Hobi and..” he pointed at you, avoiding even the utterances of your name. There was no disgust lingering in his face but then again his expression was unreadable and you were sure he was masking his true feelings at the expense of the two men in front of you. 
“I knew it,” he clasped his hands together but as soon as you saw the thoughts wiring in his head and connecting together you shook your head to prevent him from continuing. Thankfully, he understood immediately, “yeah, I thought I had seen you before.” 
Jungkook also connected the dots because Jin hadn’t been in high school at the same time he was. Jinnie was three years older than you guys were and by the time he and Hobi had moved into town Seokjin had already graduated. But he was now aware that you had mentioned him in passing—now he knew that you had to have mentioned something about that time. 
“I’m going to go check on those soups,” Jin announced walking back towards the kitchen, “Joon, come on join me.”  
You walked past Jungkook with the brown cup held tightly in your grasp before taking a seat on the bench by the front window. The storm still ran rampant outside and the streets remained barren. Jungkook sat two tables down, near the wall, far away from you. 
“Do I owe you anything for the tea?” You mumbled holding up the cup in his direction. 
“I told you to not worry about it..” 
“I didn’t know Seokjin would bring that up,” you didn’t look at him, eyes lulled by your dusty white converse, “I didn’t know he would remember you.” 
“Just forget about it,” he shook his head, “you don’t need to explain.”
“No, I feel like I do.” 
“You don’t.” 
“Jungkook, please let me,” your eyes watered and your voice faltered. 
He sighed, taking a small sip of the tea before continuing, “please don’t explain. I don’t need an explanation. I have buried it all, it still lives in my head but it’s buried and I don’t need to resurrect the tsunami of emotions that comes along with that..” he pointed at his temples, “it’s still here but please do not awaken them. I don’t want to brush the brush off of those memories.” 
You two were the only people in the shop but you knew Joon and Jin were behind one of the walls eavesdropping. It was silent and the only noise in the small space was the whirring of the AC. 
“Are our good memories also buried somewhere?” You knew better than to ask but you needed to know. 
“I put those to rest first,” he admitted and your heart sank, “those memories, although good, were an incitement to everything else that lingered right behind. I had to get rid of those memories to get rid of everything else.” 
“Okay,” tears were beginning to swell up in the corners of your eyes and you tried your best to blink them away, “yeah, that’s okay. I understand why you had to do that.” 
“I’m sorr—” Jungkook began. 
“Don’t, please, you’re not the one who should be apologizing to me. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you do that.” 
The bell at the front desk chimed, ripping your attention away from Jungkook. Seokjin stood behind the counter holding two paper bags, “order’s up.”  
Walking up you thanked him and grabbed the bags, “thanks. I’ll have Hobi venmo you for this.” 
“Don’t even worry about it,” he smiled softly, “free lunches till you guys graduate remember. That goes for you too now, Jungkook.” 
“You don’t have to do that.” 
“I want to,” he handed him the smaller bag, “I mean it. I better see you around here more often.” 
“Thank you,” he smiled brightly, the kind of smile you hadn’t seen him wear in years. It was radiant and lit up his face with warmth. The indents on his cheek were deep and they framed his rose lips like they were a work of art. Not even the silver hoop piercing his bottom lip shone as brightly as he did when he smiled. You almost forgot how good it looked on him and you couldn’t help but stand there and admire him taking mental pictures to keep forever. 
He deserves someone better. Someone who’s going to make him smile like that until the end of time. Someone who wasn’t you.  
“And thank you for coming along with her since Hobi couldn’t.”
“It’s no problem.”
“I would offer you guys a ride back home but Jin and I walked to work today. Guess we didn’t really think things through either.” 
“It’s okay, Joon,” you zipped up your rain coat and pulled the hood over your head, “it’s only a five minute walk back.” 
After thanking Jin and Joon, the two of you exited the store and cut in through the alley way before landing on the road leading back to the dorms. Once again, the two of you stood dangerously close to one another radiating off each other’s body heat and before you knew it the building came into view and Jungkook led you up the walkway leading you to the main door. You didn’t want to let him go. You didn’t want him to leave you but it’s not like you could actually say that. 
You were a mere burden jumbled into bad memories and the worst years of his life.
“Thank you for coming along,” you pushed the thoughts although you don’t think you could ever really get rid of them. 
“No thanks needed. I couldn’t let you take the trip on your own, especially not in this weather.” 
He couldn’t let you. Your heart began to race as you tried to keep yourself from reading too much into his words. They probably didn’t mean anything… But what if he still cared? What if Jungkook still cared about you? 
“See you around.” He nodded before heading off in the direction of his dorm. 
I shouldn’t have said anything.
You turned around, but Jungkook was no longer near. His back was turned in your direction as he continued trotting down the sidewalk. Great! Now you’re hearing voices, after reaching for the metal door handle the voices reappeared. 
 Our memories are flavored in bitterness but I still can’t get her off my mind.
Jungkook was gone. 
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The thing about rumors is that they spread like wildfires and no matter how hard you work to extinguish that fire it is always too little too late. That’s how you felt as soon as you crossed the threshold from the bathroom and into the congested hallways. Everyones prying eyes read you so intently condemning you for the hypocrisy of allowing someone like Jungkook to permanently ink his lips on yours. The passionate dance the two of you composed left behind the imprints of his lips as he tattooed your skin with each one of the pecks he left behind.  
Your phone buzzed in the back pocket of your jeans. You pulled it out, unlocking it, quickly seeing the photo your friend had snuck of you on his lap pop up. Your mouths devour one another and your bodies pressed together closely while your hand rests on his shoulder. 
You wanted to frame it—live in the pixels of that picture forever. 
‘Death complete bitch.’ Your best friend’s text read below the photo, ‘I can’t believe you actually kissed him.’
‘I can’t believe I did it either.” 
‘What was it like?’
The worst part about it is that it had to come to an end. Your mind traveled an hour back and you recall the velvet feel of his lips as they moved against yours mimicking the softness of clouds. At the sametime his tongue was saccharine tasting of the sweetness of strawberries and maple syrup leading  you to guess he had either waffles or pancakes for breakfast that morning. 
All you wanted was to run back into that bathroom. 
‘Nothing memorable. Just glad it’s over.’ 
‘Don’t worry you won’t ever have to kiss him again.’
Yeah, that was the fucking problem. You wanted to kiss him again, preferably you wanted to kiss him forever. 
‘Yeah, thankfully.’ 
You didn’t know when that kill switch that made you a complete and utter bitch was flipped on, but all you remember were those calamitous days when you didn’t really know who you were and who you were meant to be. Those days were marked with pen squiggles, they were blurred and you chose to permanently turn the light off and lock the door behind you in that section of your brain. 
Middle school was rough to say the least. But that was the beginning of your novel and you knew perfectly well who you were now. 
You had the friends you did because they made you look good, you had the clothes you did because you had a reputation to uphold and you had the boyfriend you did because someone like you is supposed to be with someone like him. Those were the simple unspoken rules of high school and at first they  were easy to follow until they weren’t. 
Everything was simple until that summer before freshman year. The day you visited the park near your house and you spotted him, with his chunky black boots and signature black outfit matching his jet black hair. The two of you were only fifteen then but he already had a tattoo on his wrist peeking out of the sleeve of his crewneck, back then he didn’t have his lip piercing—not yet at least. 
“I thought you only hung out in abandoned buildings and sketchy alley ways,” you remembered telling him that and the two of you spent hours on those swings talking the afternoon away. Back then, you learned Jungkook was a gentle giant disguised in an intimidating disguise. He was thoughtful in the way he looked at life and dreamt about the future, he was caring in the way that he spoke about nature, tattoos, music and everything else he held a deep passion for and lastly, he was attentive in the way he listened to you thoroughly drinking in every detail you had shared.
That was the Jungkook that made you fall for him in the blink of an eye but back then you didn’t know who he was and you were certainly not made aware of how things would end up. 
 The bell dismissing you from your last period class snapped you right out of your thoughts and you dashed out the door of the classroom wanting nothing more than to escape home and be left alone to bask in your thoughts. 
“There’s a fight outside!” a few students called out running past you. 
“Let’s go!” someone else yelled across the hallway. 
You were nervous to ask but you did anyway, “fight? Who’s fighting?”
“Your boyfriend’s fighting someone,” a girl you didn’t quite recognize replied, “Jungkook, or something like that I think.”
By the time you made it to the parking lot there was already a crowd of people forming a circle around both boys. Jungkook held his bloody nose while your boyfriend clenched and unclenched his hand, likely to relieve the pain of hitting Jungkook. You ran in their direction but as you neared them you saw as the boy you called yours landed another punch on Jungkook’s face causing him to fall back on the concrete. 
He didn’t fight back, didn’t even respond to the other boy’s insult. He just sat on the ground holding his face waiting for it all to be over. 
“Hey,” you finally reached him, shoving him back to prevent another callous attack on the boy behind you, “what the fuck are you doing?” 
“I saw the fucking picture,” he muttered through gritted teeth. 
“The girls and I played a game of dare or death,” you explained, “it was only part of the death I had to complete. It didn’t mean anything.”
He lunged towards you and poked at your chest, “you still kissed him.” 
The crowd went silent and your boyfriend’s anger highlighted the very thing you’d intended to place under lock and key—your pretty little secret no longer a secret or even pretty for that matter. You felt light headed and you weren’t sure if it was the punishing rays of the sun or the mental strain this was all causing. 
You didn’t regret that kiss; you never would but you also thought that picture would stay between you and your friends.
A wave of murmurs swayed all around you and you knew your reputation was descending by the second. 
You didn’t dare look at Jungkook, you knew his hypnotizing dark eyes would make you crumble. Seeing him like that. . The way he did all helpless and unprotected would compel you to care for him and cradle him in your arms until nothing or no one else could hurt him, “It meant nothing. Okay?” You heaved, “It meant nothing.” 
Instead, you were dragged away from the boy your heart screamed out for. 
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Fuck, do I still like her?
Just shut up, Jungkook. It’s too early for this. 
I shouldn’t be asking myself that. Ever. 
Presently, you’ve gotten to know Jungkook for being reserved and fairly quiet, similar to how he was in high school except back then he actually spoke to you. But now, he is quiet and he doesn’t bother uttering a single word in your direction. The only times he ever addresses you is when he throws continuous jabs at you, landing every single one—he spews spiteful words of retaliation as a result of the shitty person were years ago and although you knew it was well-deserved that didn’t mean it hurt any less. Unlike his recently reserved outer shell, you quickly learned Jungkook’s mind traveled at the speed of light and for two days now, you could hear the constant battles of  thoughts breaking out in his head. 
Words crashed against each other; phrases were left abandoned half way through and ideas were left unfulfilled. 
You groaned smacking your silk pillow over your face, your mind was exhausted on overdrive and increasingly overheating all because Jungkook couldn’t ease his thoughts and empty his mind at five in the fucking morning. Who. . Thinks this much at such ungodly hours of the morning, the sun isn’t even up yet. 
The scattered clouds invaded the dark blue sky dusted in shades of purple. 
Does she think of me? 
I do. 
Did she ever feel what I felt when we kissed?
I did—I do. I still feel it. Similar to how the sun feels on you on a hot summer day, the sparks on their ignited route as they traveled through every single inch of your skin setting it alight even today. You felt it then and you could feel it now. 
Finally, his thoughts ceased and you guessed he’d probably drifted off into a slumber. He probably looked so peaceful you thought, grabbing one of your extra cushions, laid on your side and placed it in between your legs like a mommy pillow. Sleep came knocking on your door and your eyes began to feel heavy. 
Jungkook probably looked like an angel as he slept. You could picture him laying in a sea of his messy sheets against his golden tone. 
By the time you woke up once again, it was nine in the morning and the sun peeking in through the windows ripped you right out of your sleep. 
Your room door burst open, “hey! I knew you’d be awake. What do you have planned for the day?” Hobi took a seat on the edge of your bed. 
“Whatever happened to knocking? I could’ve been naked you know..” 
“We’ve seen each other naked plenty of times.” 
“Fair enough,” you laid facing the ceiling, “I wasn’t going to do much today just going to check Mr. Kim’s list. He posted it on the bulletin outside his class for our upcoming project.” 
“Do you want me to make you something to eat before I go?”
“I’m okay. Thank you, though.” 
He planted a soft kiss on your forehead, “I’ll be in the dance studio. You wanna come see me later?” His heart-shaped lips did very little to cover his pearly whites as he grinned, “I’ll give the front desk your name so they can let you up when you get there.” 
“Please, don’t forget like last time or I’ll have to fight someone for real this time,” you said. 
“Won’t,” he called out as he strutted towards the front door, “I promise. See you later.” You heard the door open and shut before you began falling asleep once again but the peace and quiet was very short lived because you heard him again. 
What did I even dream about?
You wondered the same. Was he the type to dream up cute scenarios in that pretty head of his as he drifted off for the night? Did your face invade his mind in the late hours of the night? You hope you did. 
Your name echoed in the basis of his mind followed by the emission of thunderous groans. 
He seemed. . frustrated. 
Ah, fuck. Yes, Jungkook just imagine it’s her. 
The image in your head was impure as soon as  you finally realized what Jungkook was actually doing. You’d imagined his hand disappearing under the base of the pyramid forming through his duvet. Stroking himself slowly, his head lolled back against his headboard, sweat glistening on his chest and forehead, while his eyes fluttered closed as his eyelashes batting away all reminders of reality. 
I want her touch—need it. So bad. 
You’d become too enthralled in the symphony of Jungkook’s whimpers that you hadn’t really noticed the death grip you had on your bed sheets as your knuckles turned white and the way your legs rubbed against each other in a desperate plea for some friction. 
This was private. Jungkook needed privacy and while your mind opened a portal which prevented that, the best thing you could do was ignore him and the sensual persuasion laced in his bedroom voice, no matter how desperately he called out for you, it wasn’t right. 
Ignore. 
God, I would fuck her so good. 
Think of something else. 
With my cock buried deep inside of her. Fucking her into my mattress until she’s shaking with the overbearing stimulation of pleasure. Until, even her own name becomes a mere afterthought. 
You grabbed your phone from the night stand but your lame attempt at a ‘distraction’ was useless. His words were addictive and you were already soaked right through your panties. Your sheets began sticking to your sweaty skin while Jungkook’s ardent words continued heating you up. 
She would take me so well. Fuck! 
A shower! That’s what you’d do—just take a cold cold shower to ease those thoughts and shut him out until he finally finishes. 
You hissed as the hard pressure of frigid water hit your body from the shower head, even this wasn’t enough to mask the way your body shuddered as Jungkook continued. It was even more enticing that after everything—after his hostile gazes and cold words your face was in the forefront of his brain as he touched himself.
His alluring thoughts kept on playing one after the other and your cunt became the victim crying out to him with patterned pleas he would never hear. Your juices strolled down your inner thigh mixed in with the streaks of water and you could no longer bear the desperate thumps of aching cunt. You were going mad, honestly his stamina and self control were all to blame. The combination was torturous.  
While you weren’t one hundred-percent sure of what he was doing the way his thoughts became sporadic weathering winds of pleasure and then tranquility. It was a cycle, he would be on the verge of succumbing to his peak and then all of the sudden he would stop. Before beginning once again and again and again. 
The viciousness of his desire lasted until right around the time you turned the shower off and you couldn’t tell if for the past twenty minutes you had been in your own personal heaven or hell. 
I hate how much I still want her. 
I hate that I can’t have her. 
You can have me, Jungkook. You can have me now, tomorrow and forever.  
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The heat was overbearing and you could feel the way your tank became soaked with sweat and the thin fabric stuck to your body. You heaved as you pushed open the glass door into the English building. Mr. Kim’s room was on the third floor and the bulletin board was stationed right next to his door. After opting out of climbing three flights of stairs you ride the elevator up and exit out to look at the posted partners for Mr. Kim’s upcoming project. Walking down the main hall you turn left and there it is—there he is. 
The simplicity of his outfit was composed of a plain white tee, gray sweat shorts, and over the ankle white socks tucked into black slides. The colorful ink adorning his skin still peaked under the sleeve of his shirt, his black wavy hair rested on the nape of his neck. 
The hallways were completely empty and his back still faced you so you kind of just stood there unsure of what to say or do. I mean you’d heard him masturbating just a few hours ago and while you truly did not mind even the slightest you weren’t quite sure how to even interact with him moving forward. While he seemed to despise you for the events that unfolded back in high school this morning was a complete change of events. His voice was dipped in sex as he moaned your name until he finally came. 
God, why was it so hot in here? Is the AC really off mid-summertime? 
“Hey,” his doe eyes stared at you, studying your off-putting exterior. Your eyes were blown wide, your tank was still soaked with sweat and you just stood there ogling him, “are you okay?” 
He stepped towards you with worrisome eyes. ‘Oh yes Jungkook, I’m okay. I’m just picturing the way your hand climbs up and down the length of your dick, head tilted back, mouth slightly opened as groans form at the root of your throat. You know, the way you probably looked this morning.’ 
Instead you decided on a soft, “I’m okay.” 
“You look like you’re about to pass out,” he placed his hand on your shoulder and you nearly fainted at the intense heat emitted from his skin to yours, “here, sit down,” he guided you to one of the lounge chairs sat opposite Mr. Kim’s class, “have you drank anything today?” 
How could you kindly explain that was not the kind of thirst you were looking to quench. 
“No. .” you shook your head.
“Okay, okay,” he grabbed a water bottle from the black backpack sitting at his feet. You hadn’t even noticed it before, you had been so focused on him the entire time, “here drink some.” 
The bottle was half empty meaning his lips were on it and now your lips would be on it too. This wasn’t really what you meant when you said you wanted to feel his lips on yours but you didn’t really mind either. 
“Yeah, sorry, I got thirsty on the way here,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I can get you one from the vending machine.” 
You must’ve been looking at the bottle resting in his grasp like an idiot, “no, it’s okay Jungkook,” you rested your palm on top of his hand, “it’s not like we haven’t kissed before right?” 
His eyes turned a shade darker than their usual brown and he cleared his throat, letting go of the water bottle right into your grip, “right.” he stepped back as if you were a cactus ready to nick him with one of your spines, “I was looking at the list for Mr. Kim’s class and we are partnered together with Jimin for the project.” 
“Okay, should we meet at my place tonight or tomorrow? This is due this Monday,” you took a sip of the water tasting the remnants of Jungkook’s strawberry chapstick left behind on the rim. 
“I have a basketball tournament due tonight but we can meet tomorrow if you’d like.” 
“Tomorrow,” you repeated, “any time?” 
“After four?” 
“See you then.” 
For the first time in forever Hoseok had actually left your name at the front desk of the studio on campus. After being left up you walked in through the double doors of the dance studio where the music blasted at highest volume and your best friend’s shoes squeaked against the shiny wooden floor as he moved throughout the room swiftly executing his choreography with perfection. Hobi was a force to be reckoned with and dance was his element. 
“You’re here,” his professional and focused aura peeled back as soon as he saw you enter the room, “I need a break anyway.” 
You sat on the floor with your back resting against the wall of mirrors. 
“I’m here and I cannot believe I witnessed such perfection,” you clapped your hands, “I still cannot believe my best friend is talented enough to finally snatch me away from poverty.” 
“You know I got us,” he sat beside you before laying his head on your lap. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat from head to toe, “but let’s not forget you chose to be poor.” 
“I didn’t have much of a choice. I can’t really help having idiotic parents,” you shrugged. 
“I know baby,” he cooed. Hobi was quiet which was definitely out of his usual nature where he radiated a blinding luminescent orb around his being. He fidgeted with the strings on his sweatpants and opened his mouth only to say it again. 
“Hoseok, you’re anxious and it’s making me anxious. Just say what you need to say.” 
You combed your fingers through his damp hair, “I saw they, your parents, left a voicemail for you last week. Did you ever get back to them?” 
“No,” you sighed, “and I don’t think I want to either. Everything they tried to do and were willing to do was truly wicked and unforgivable.” 
“You never told me what happened.”
“It involves Jungkook, of course, and everything we did while in high school, Yeonjun’s party the summer before senior year.” 
“The one he threw the week before school started?” 
“Yes.”
“To this day I still can’t remember shit about that night.” 
You chuckled, “a lot of our classmates don’t remember that night at all but I do. I remember every single detail.” 
He didn’t say anything so you continued. 
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Yeonjun’s lake house was like a maze. There were numerous narrow halls with an array of doors carved on each wall and it was the same for every single corner you’ve turned into so far. The little bit of alcohol you had began clouding your mind and you felt more intoxicated than you actually were. Your kitten heeled black sandals clacking against the hardwood floor sought a way out of this elaborate labyrinth and back to what you originally came for. 
The music playing just a floor below faded as you traveled deeper and deeper into the second floor, although you could still feel the booming bass vibrating right under your feet. 
You just needed a bathroom—not because you actually needed to use it but because you needed to take a minute to yourself. . to breathe. Every other corner of this house including the back and front yards and even the fucking lake are already invaded by massive seas of drunk teenagers. Their voices were too loud, the music was headache inducing and the atmosphere adopted a stench of sweat and b.o. 
After ditching the red solo cup on a nearby console table, you leaned against the off-white walls closing your to block out the dim lights making you a bit lightheaded. 
Seriously, who even had this many fucking rooms in one house. You mumbled. 
Sure, your family was wealthy but you were nothing like the Choi family. Your parents were both doctor’s devoting their time to the tiny private practice the two of them founded but on the other hand Yeonjun’s family came from a long lineage of  businessmen and they practically owned a handful of the businesses for miles and miles around. 
You weren’t jealous of all of the extra zeroes attached to his parents’ net worth, you and your own lived comfortably enough to not have any financial complaints. However, his parents were more liberal and they didn’t clip his wings. They weren’t clingy or demanding and they certainly did not push anything on him that he didn’t want to do. Your parents were not this way, they were controlling, and they told you what to do and eat, who to hang out with and date. With covetous thoughts you wondered if there would ever be a point in your life where you could feel as free as Yeonjun did. 
Maybe now that you’ve turned eighteen things would be different. Doubtful—your birthday was a month ago and nothing has changed. Unfortunately, you still lived under their roof and relied on their money. 
You removed your shoes and hesitated whether to travel back down stairs and out somewhere into the depth of the forest but immediately erased the thought from your mind as you looked down at your bare feet, mini skirt and crop top. This wasn’t really an appropriate outfit to go off exploring the woods in the middle of the night. 
The minutes continued ticking by and finally you spotted a door at the end of the opposite hallway with a vertical rectangular piece of frosted glass cut right down the middle. Your feet traveled down the heated floors before your hand reached out for the black knob; turning it slowly. 
It was a rooftop balcony. 
The railing was wrapped in garden lights, while two sets of black cushioned reclining beach chairs sat around a propane fire pit. There was a massive grill to the other side, a bar that would put a nightclub to shame and a huge patio furniture set. 
Your eyes thoroughly scanned your surroundings before landing on the boy leaning against the rail staring at the idiots swimming in the lake below. For the first time since you met him approximately four years ago his legs were exposed under the light washed knee length jorts, he wore a white t-shirt and a pair of black and white checkered vans. Still, right up the alley of what his style embodied but you had to admit you missed his signature chunky boots. 
He still hadn’t noticed you so you walked up slowly, “I never thought I’d see you at a party like this,” you whispered in his ear before jumping right beside him. 
The moon rays reflected a twinkle in his dark eyes, “Yeonjun and I are cool.” 
“So, why aren’t you down stairs?” 
“Why aren’t you?” his gaze traveled from your black painted toes all the way up to your eyes as if he was studying you intently. 
“Too crowded,” you shrugged, “and not enough room to breathe.” 
Jungkook looked ahead, his vision once again consumed by the dark green and brown shades of the dense forest once again, his side profile put artworks all across the world to shame. 
“Yeah, same,” he added, “I’m gonna let you in on a little secret but parties aren’t really my thing.” 
“No way. . I’ve seen you at every party for the past three years,” he dramatically rolled his eyes at the sarcasm in your voice and you chuckled before continuing a bit softer, “is this your first one?” 
Jungkook nodded, “first one I’ve been invited to and the first I’ve ever attended too.”
“We’re breaking records tonight aren’t we.” 
“I guess I’m feeling a bit audacious.” 
You sneered, “audacious? Big word.” 
“Don’t tell me you think I’m stupid like the rest of our classmates. .” 
“I did my internship in the main office last year which included sealing report cards and sending them off,” he walked to one of the chairs and laid on it placing both of his palms under his head. Was he flexing? Couldn’t be. “You’ve practically taken every AP class offered at our school and aced all of them too. It’s a miracle how you have managed.” 
“What can I say?” he smiled and his cheeks rose like two loaves of bread in an oven, “I’m all brains baby.” 
“Brains and beauty,” you corrected. 
“I can’t also be ‘beauty’ when you’re here; living, breathing, being,” Jungkook is the personification of all of your desires and his aura worked hard to draw you closer and closer in his direction no matter how hard you worked to stay away, for his sake. Even when you tried to repel away from him the gravitational force he exuded called out your name and your tympanum became inundated by the wails of his being. 
Only he lived in your thoughts. 
The video-like memories you have shot of him throughout the years loop in your mind day and night. It was dizzying but you didn’t want it any other way. 
“You are beautiful,” you let your thoughts roll off your tongue freely—too tipsy to care and too enthralled by his striking features to lie about what you truly felt. What you’ve been working so hard to suppress for the past few years. You were tired of hiding, so fucking tired, “with your big beautiful eyes, and your cherry lips and rosey cheeks and all of these tattoos,” you carried on, “oh, and those piercings. Don’t you know that Jungkook?” 
He was flushed and his head became tilted down as he played around with the silver rings on his fingers, “know what?” 
“That you are more beautiful than life itself.” 
Jungkook scooched over on the chair and patted the empty space beside him inviting you to sit near him and you did. He laid on his side while his face rested on his left palm. 
“Are you drunk?” he asked. 
“I only had two sips of Hobi’s drink,” you looked up at him through your eyelashes, “I’ve been on cranberry juice most of the night.” 
“So this is not a case of drunken words you’ll forget once the sun comes up?” he leaned in closer and you could see the faint freckles dancing on his cheeks and on the bridge of his nose. 
His eyes sparkled projecting bright constellations never before seen in the heavens, “I could never forget anything about you.” 
“You know I can’t believe that right?” 
“Why not?” 
“Because you’ve forgotten about me for the past year,” he smiled devilishly, “you haven’t spared me the time of day. I’ve missed your sneaky glances. The way you’d drop your pencil half way through algebra just to bat those pretty eyelashes in my direction kind of like you are now.” 
“I didn’t do that just to look at you,” you clutched the thin gold chain hanging from his neck, guiding him closer to you, “I was just genuinely clumsy.” 
“I’m just saying it’s funny how the pencil always fell in my direction,” 
“Forget the pencil, Jungkook,” shivers cascaded down your back as his lips hovered over yours—his breath fanning against them. The aroma of lemon, and mint, with woody and balsamic undertones tickled your nostrils. 
Jungkook shook his head, his eyes remained on your lips as you swiped your tongue along them, “it’s not about the pencil?” 
“It’s not,” you added, tucking the few strands of hair that framed his face behind his ear. You just wanted to lay there with him forever, to be consumed by the warmth of his embrace, to lose yourself in the tenderness of his kisses, to wake up next to him tomorrow and also every single day after that. 
“So just admit you wanted to lo—”
You lips landed on his and finally you remembered just how magical kissing Jungkook was except unlike that day in school the bathroom, today, it wasn’t a game. You were there on your own free will and you didn’t care who was around to see. The only concern clouding your mind was how much more of him you craved. The way your mouths moved each other made you feel inebriated, even more than alcohol ever could and you weren’t afraid to admit his lips had you addicted. 
The silver metal hoop hung onto the corner of his lip felt cold, but so good in comparison to his heated kisses. Despite where you were or how many people currently invaded Yeonjun’s house it felt like you and Jungkook were the only two people on the entire planet. Just the two of you with your lips dancing on each other with the moon and the stars baring as your only witnesses. 
Jungkook pulled away slowly—panting slightly, “please shut me up like that more often,” he held your face, resting his forehead on yours and pecking your lips continuously, “tell me you’ll do it. Tell me you’ll always kiss my stupidity away.” 
You nodded, “Jungkook, how about I kiss you like that always and forever. Not only because of your stupidity as you call it but just because.”
“Are you trying to confess something?” 
He sat across from you on the beach chair taking your legs onto his lap, his soft hands massaged the soles of your feet. You swallowed back the guttural groan riding up your throat melting deeper into the chair due to his therapeutic touch. His fingers moved higher and higher up the length of your extremities, halting right above your knees, yet he continued kneading his fingers into your skin. 
“Tell me.” 
You hummed. 
“I need you to be an open book with me. What are you looking to confess?” 
Your eyes remained closed as he continued touching you gently—almost feather-like, “Jungkook, I can’t really think when you’re doing that. .” 
“Should I stop?” 
“No, please,” you pant. 
He continued kneading your thighs, “tell me.” 
From the tips of his fingers currents of electricity trickled onto your skin, “ah, fuck. .” you breathed, “I like you Jungkook. I like you. Okay?”  
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Hobi sat up beside you, now leaning against the mirrors as well. The sun has begun its journey towards the horizon and its rays peaked through the slightly drawn blinds,  “wait so you guys. .?” 
You nodded but said nothing else. That night had been a secret between you and Jungkook. 
“On the roof of Yeonjun’s house during our senior year back to school bash?” The surprise in his tone was evident but you weren’t taken back by it all. 
“Yes,” you smiled faintly, unwilling to hide the giddiness you felt from the memories of your time together from Jungkook, “it was our little secret. We swore to each other we wouldn’t  say anything to anyone. That’s why I didn't mention anything to you before but obviously someone saw and word got out that same night.” 
Hobi sighed, “don’t tell me another fight broke out between him and your dumbass ex-boyfriend.” 
You shook your head, “this time it was different. I wasn’t scared of what others thought anymore. In that moment I decided I would stop caring. I wanted to stop hurting him,” your clammy hands began to shake slightly and Hobi placed his palms on top of them to stop their trembling, “that night after the party we rode around all night aimlessly. Enjoying each other’s company and truly I was the happiest I had ever been all my life. Everything went to shit as soon as I made it home and walked in through the door. My parents waited for me to get in, they sat me down and began rambling about my change in behavior and how different I had become.”
He hummed and you took that as a sign to continue. 
“As soon as I sat on the chair that night they slid over my mom’s phone and there was a picture of Jungkook and I kissing on one of the longue chairs. I swear I had dejavu from freshman year.” 
“Did you ever find who took the picture?” 
“I never did but I always figured it was one of my ex’s minions or something,” you shrugged, “to be honest, trying to figure it out was the last thing on my mind. They started talking and talking rambling on about my personality change and rebelliance and how Jungkook was the cause of it or some shit.” 
“How did they even come up with that?” 
“I asked myself the same thing,” you snickered, just thinking about it even now makes your blood boil, “but it didn’t matter. Being eighteen didn’t matter; they just wanted to keep us away from each other at all costs. They made all types of threats to make me press charges and file a restraining order which I obviously refused. Then, they vowed to make his life hell if I didn’t stay away and I didn’t want to find out what they meant so I decided to comply and stay away.” 
“Okay, now I’m beginning to understand why you moved in with my family half way through senior year,” his thumb rubbed circles on the dorsal side of your hand, “were they mad when you left? I used to ask my mom if your folks ever reached out but she always avoided the question.” 
“They were livid but nothing they could ever say or do would ever make me stay in that place.” 
“Did they manage to leave Jungkook alone?” 
“Well, after the big cut-off Jungkook and I were never able to find our way back to each other,” your voice was low, almost as if you couldn’t hear yourself it just wouldn’t be true, “and I moved in with you and your mom and I completely blocked them out of my life.” 
“Good. I’m glad you ditched them,” he pinched your cheeks, “you deserve better than them and their money’s no good to you anyway.” 
“I just wish I would’ve kept in contact with him. Maybe tell him what was going on or something,” you scratched the back of your neck obviously frustrated at your lack of communication skills as a stupid eighteen year old. You were such an idiot—why couldn’t you open your fucking mouth? 
“We all make bad decisions at one point in our lives but you had no choice, baby. You were sandwiched into the wall one bad choice up against another. You made the best decision you could with the circumstances at hand,” he snuggled closer to you, wrapping one hand around your shoulder, “don’t beat yourself up over it please.” 
“I love you. Seriously, I don’t know what I would ever do without you.” 
He kissed your forehead, “I love you more.”
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Today Jungkook’s highway of thoughts has eased and though you liked how calm the morning has been you also kind of missed the feeling of his lingering presence—almost as if your own shadow was missing. 
You despised waking up towards the early hours of the afternoon but today you couldn’t seem to peel yourself out of of your bed, until finally you couldn’t fathom the idea of napping your day away—plus couldn’t do that even if you wanted to because Jungkook and Jimin would be over in about thirty minutes to begin working on Mr. Kim’s project. 
Jimin had been the middle man in this entire set-up, he had both of your numbers so he took it upon himself to text the two of your separately (because he knew you and Jungkook were physically impossible of initiating a social exchange amongst yourselves), and get you both on board with a neutral territory to meet at. Of course, Jimin’s idea of a neutral territory involved a place where he could catch glimpses of his ex strutting around which meant your apartment was his ideal meeting spot and although his thoughts hadn’t revealed anything so far you just knew Jungkook wasn’t ecstatic about this whole arrangement. 
After taking a quick shower, getting dressed and setting up a plate of sliced fruits and a couple bags of snack size chips and cookies you heard a light knock on your door. 
Taking a deep breath you turned the knob before pulling the door open. It was Jungkook and as always he looked breathtaking. You were beginning to think comfort was his go-to because yet again, he wore sweats and a simple t-shirt—tattoos still peeking out at you, his bottom lip still pierced with the same small silver hoop, hair half up half down and his book bag slung on his left shoulder. 
Removing his headphones he stared back at you as you continued ogling him, “hey. .” he greeted in his deep tone. 
Why is she staring at me like that? 
Do I have a stain or something? 
He looked down at his shirt but when he saw nothing he just stared back at you tilting his head slightly. 
“Hi,” you stepped out of his way and he finally crossed over the threshold into your apartment, “you’re the first one here so we’re just waiting on Jimin to make it before we begin. Please sit anywhere.” 
He nodded. 
The apartment wasn’t necessarily big but it wasn’t small either. An open floor plan made up the space between the kitchen and living room area with a rectangular island separating the two rooms. Immediately to the right of that was the door leading to Hobi’s room, then your room sat at the end of that hall just a couple feet away and the bathroom was just across from your door. 
Yet even as you walked towards the kitchen and Jungkook made strides towards the love seat in the living room you felt like the two of you were cramped in a tiny box with the temperature hiked to the highest setting. God, there were about a million things you could say or offer him but nothing could ever mend his broken heart and that was enough to keep your lips sealed tight. 
Where the fuck is Jimin? 
I don’t know if I can be here alone with her for much longer. 
And it’s so fucking hot. I’m gonna pass out. 
Fuck, you knew it. He’s upset. Though you already figured coming here was probably  hard for him, you didn’t imagine it would hurt you as much as it did to actually know how much he despised being in your vicinity, but it did. 
Jungkook sat rather stiffly on the couch, bag still slung on his back as if he was ready to leave, staring off into the distance while his leg bounced up and down anxiously. Strolling past him silently you nearned the thermostat and cranked the AC up higher.  
That’ll literally fix nothing at all. 
You turned around taking a seat on one of the accent chairs near the row of windows on the opposite end of the living room. If it wasn’t for the invasion of his thoughts, the silence would be killing you softly. 
“Have you heard anything from Jimin?” he finally looked in your direction but not into your eyes instead they lingered lower—in the direction of your legs. The hunger displayed in his eyes took you back to the night before when he moaned your name so sweetly. 
“Nothing,” you tapped your screen to show him the lack of texts and placing the phone back on your thigh, his gaze followed almost like he was hypnotized. 
You would give anything to hear him just one more time—Fuck, just once more. 
He cleared his throat, snapping out of those sinful thoughts cooking up in your head, “yeah, same. And I’ve texted him like three times.” 
“I’m thinking that little shit bailed even though he planned this whole thing,” you were scared to form your thoughts into actual words, “do you want us to start or would you rather wait for him?” 
He breathed out almost exasperated—damn, you should’ve kept the suggestion to yourself. You were about to take it all back but then he finally spoke up, “We’re both here now. I think we can begin and then fill him in. . If that’s okay with you.” 
“Yeah, I think that’s the best we can do,” did he just willingly comply with staying alone with you, “I’ll go get my notebook. Gimme one second.” 
“Okay.” 
Right. . Okay. Just here to get our work done. That’s all. That is all. Yeah. 
You sat beside him on the couch startling him just a bit—he seemed tense, “so we’re supposed to pick a movie, and match no less than three scenes to at least one of the emotions listed.” 
“I say we do the very minimum and pick the movie I’m sure we’ve all watched,” he asked, unzipping his bag and pulling out his notebook. 
“Titanic?” you asked. 
“No, The Blind Side,” he scoffed, “do we really want to sit here for one hundred hours just to recap the eternity that is Titanic?” 
“But the emotions for Titanic are so easy to dissect; we have happiness, love, and jealousy right off the bat,” you argued, “the assignment is practically done for us already.” 
“Yeah, but everyone’s going to do Titanic. We need to stand out. Be different.” 
“It’s an intro to writing class. I vote for taking it easy, weren’t you just moaning about taking it easy anyway?” your tone was a bit condescending you’d admit but the way he scanned your figure was addicting. There was nothing you craved more in this world than to have his gaze drink you in as if you were his favorite drink. 
“I wasn’t moaning.” 
I was last night though. 
You swallowed hard, biting your tongue and holding yourself back from going along with begging him to moan the way you’d heard him do so the night before. His husk groans so low and sweet, so fucking sweet, “But you were.” 
“It was a suggestion. There was no moaning involved.” 
“Well, maybe if you did moan I would cave and take your suggestion,” the words rolled off your tongue before you could ever stop them. 
He smirked, “so you just wanna hear me moan.” 
Don’t smirk. 
Eternally mad at her, remember?
The internal conflict raging within him gave you at least a little bit of hope. As you mapped out the field of his thoughts you figured he wanted nothing to do with but distance himself; to be cold and standoffish but he also revealed he wanted you. He wanted you near—to hold you, kiss you, touch you. 
It was confusing and headache inducing but you liked that you still lived in his mind the same way he lived in yours. 
You shrugged, “maybe I do.” 
“Please, don’t,” his eyes finally met yours. 
Look away. 
But he didn’t and you were glad he didn’t. 
“Do you want me to beg Jungkook?” you purred low and slow—the translation intended was desperation and you hoped he understood exactly what you were hinting at. You were tired of hiding behind your emotions. 
She’s a fucking pied piper and I’m the snake hyptonized by sweet song and mindlessly slithering towards her. 
Yes, Jungkook. Come closer, come to me. If only he could listen to your thoughts, this would be a whole lot easier. 
Fucking one way telepathy. 
“Uh,” there was a mere blank look plastered on his features. His pupils were blown and a soft tint of rose dusted his cheeks. It was as if your words had sucker punched him and he was still processing the hit. 
You moved closer to him on the couch, placed your hand on his thighs to balance yourself as you drew closer to his ear, “please, Jungkook. Please, I need to hear you moan again.” 
Fuck. 
Fuck! 
He groaned and the honeyed husk tone sent a trail of goosebumps up your thighs resulting in your panties becoming moist, “please.” 
“Jungkook, I want you,” it was the first time in years you’d heard those words adjacent to his name and fuck did it feel good. 
Fuck it. 
His calloused hands were now on your waist and he began guiding you to lay on the loveseat before your hand landed on his chest to stop him. 
“I said I want you,” you sat him back down before kneeling in-between his legs. The fit of his sweats got tighter, lifting and taking on the shape of a tent, “you didn’t reciprocate the sentiment so that means I’m in charge here today.” 
Tell her. It’s easy. 
Tell her you want her too, you fucking idiot. 
He never vocalized it but you didn’t mind—knowing the thought pranced around on his mind was more than enough for you. 
“Are you okay with taking these off?” he complied, taking his sweats off swiftly, letting the pool at his ankles. Jungkook is fucking big and you were taken back by the sight, “good boy,” you cooed. 
His head fell back on the headrest while his eyes were shut tightly and his breathing became uneven. Oh! He likes that. He likes being called a good boy; you made a mental note to call him that again if you find yourself in a similar predicament. 
You raked your nails along his inner thigh, “Jungkook?” 
He hummed. 
“What do you fantasize about?” you laid your head on his thigh, his dick just a couple inches away from your face and truly all you wanted was to take him all in your mouth. 
“Alot of things.” 
You reached up, taking his length into your hold and he winced at the contact as you began moving your hand up and down once and once again, “I need more details than that.”
“I think of. .” his words became jumbled in his throat as you continued your very mellow and teasing touch, “of you doing, ah fuck, of you doing all these things to me.”
You clicked your tongue and shook your head at his semi-confession, “Jungkook, have you touched yourself while you think of me, hm?” 
Of course, you already knew. You’d heard it yourself but you just loved seeing him become so affected and so sensitive as a result of your lewd utters. 
Your palms traveled up to his pink tip and began rubbing circles with your thumb painting it white with his precum. 
“Good boys don’t touch themself.” 
Jungkook’s mouth remained agape but there were no words communicated instead he formed a sort of soft whimper, and that was the kind of motivation your body needed to go into overdrive. 
You wanted. . No, needed to rid yourself of these suffocating ass fucking clothes, you needed to touch yourself—to release that tension aching so painfully in between your legs. But you didn’t. Today was not about you. 
“I know. .” he groaned, digging his nails onto the black leather couch, “but when I have you invade my thoughts,” he paused looking for all of the right words, “I just can’t control myself.” 
“Hm, seems like I have a lot to live up to compared to your fantasies,” you kissed the head enveloped in your hand before swiping your tongue along his shaft and he hissed. 
His saccharine noises should be made into a playlist so that you could be able to replay them over and over everywhere you go but especially when  you lay under the covers of your bed in the late hours of the night. The only thoughts occupying your mind would be the compositions of his lustful cries as your fingers worked diligently to get yourself off. 
It was so tempting to just allow his hands to continue traveling down your stomach and waist, a few more inches and his fingers could be at the exact location where your body screamed out for his attention. 
You wanted it so bad. 
You tutted while clicking your tongue, “sit back, Jungkook,” you removed his warm feeling away from your lower back and placed them on his knees before patting them softly, “and keep your hands to yourself. Yeah?” 
“It’s really hard to,” he said, “nearly impossible when you’re working so hard to get me off and you’re just sitting there squirming whenever I talk about touching you. Cause the thought has lingered around in your mind, right?” 
“Jungkook, this is not how tonight is supposed to go.” 
“Then, how is it supposed to go?” 
Your hand began moving up and down his cock, pumping him once again before you felt the corners of your mouth beginning to sting as you wrapped your lips around him. It was painful. . Good painful though. With each passing second you bobbed your head on his cock working to take him inch by inch but no matter how much you tried, it was nearly impossible. 
His hand snaked around your neck aiding you, sinking himself deeper into the warmth of your mouth. With strings of saliva streaming down your chin, puffy lips, heated skin and a sort of fucked out look in your eyes you continued the repetition. 
Seeing him lose himself under the ministrations of your touch and mouth was overwhelming and drove you to the verge of nearly succumbing to the peaking orgasm lurking close by. Instead you diverted your mind to what you were doing instead of what you felt. Placing one your hand around the base of his balls massaging them into your touch, while you put firm pressure with your thumb on the perineum—and that’s when you saw the explosion of fireworks erupt in his eyes while his thighs began to shake. 
Fuck, fuck, fuck, Her mouth is—fuck! 
“I’m so close,” a needy whimper escaped his lips, “please don’t stop. Don’t ever stop. Please.” 
You complied, nearly choking on his cock. The feeling of being nearly rid of your ability to breathe was addicting and yes, if tonight were to be your last day on earth it would be a pleasure to die with Jungkook’s dick in your mouth. 
“I’ve been a good boy,” he cried out, “can I please cum?” 
Been such a good boy. So good. 
You hummed in approval right before he spilled into your mouth and you swallowed every bit of it before turning to see his splayed out body—all limp and tired. 
After wiping the corners of your mouth you sat beside him on the couch. Your knees were red and stung just a bit but honestly you could do it all over again—all night if you could. Slightly, opening his eyes he looked down, placing a kiss on each knee. 
“I never thought we would-” he paused momentarily, “we would do something like this ever again.” 
“Really?” your voice became hoarse, “because I’ve thought about it for a long long time now.” 
“You have?” 
“I have,” you continued, “and I’d like to think you do as well but if you’re ever ready to actually admit what you truly feel you know where I’ll be.” 
I do want you. So bad. 
And my feelings for you have always remained the same. I still have feelings for you, I feel everything for you. I always have and always will. 
He didn’t say a word but simply offered a sly smile before slipping away to get himself together in the bathroom. 
… But you were not disappointed. 
He needed time and that’s okay. You’d be more than happy to give him the time to dissect this peculiar relationship the two of you have. . developed. It’s the least you could do after all these years. 
In your heart you just hope he finds his way back to you. 
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“So you sucked him dry and then you both continued to work on the project like nothing happened?” Jimin asked; his head laid on Hobi’s lap. Yes, they were back together. This was apparently the reason why he had missed the project session the night before.  
“We were kinda forced to when your ass was MIA from the very meeting you set-up.” 
He rolled his eyes, “nobody forced you to suck his dick.” 
“Fuck you, Jimin.” 
“Why don’t you begin by fucking Jungkook instead.” 
“Jungkook and I aren’t fucking anytime soon,” you sighed spinning around on your desk chair. The ceiling seemed to come crashing down on you even as you thought of gravity of your fucked up reality, “it’s like I can feel that he still feels something for me but he just won’t vocalize it.” 
Hobi caressed the apples of Jimin’s pink cheeks, stroking them lightly with his thumb. They were the picture perfect image of love—whenever they were not fighting of course. 
“So you sucked his dick at the expense of what?” Hobi inquired. 
“I really just wanted him in my fucking mouth,” you shrugged not really wanting to scramble for any other explanation because the truth of the matter is all of you would always calls out for Jungkook whether you wanted to or not. 
“Oh, baby,” Hobi abandoned his place on your bed and kneeled in front of you holding your hands in his, “while I support all forms of slut revelations and tendencies as your best friend it is within my obligation to require you to tend after your heart.” 
You nodded. 
“Jungkook is alluring, captivating, mysterious and absolutely handsome—” Jimin cleared his throat behind him, but he ignored his boyfriend and proceeded, “and the two of you have a lot of history both good and bad but you have to understand what happened in the past is yesterday’s event. Jungkook can break your heart or hurt you in any way and it’ll be just as fucked up no matter what happened between the two of you back in high school. Okay?” 
“Okay,” Hobi was right but how could you shut out the part of your brain which justified every single way Jungkook could tear you apart? Underneath the spark; shining bright in your eyes every single time he appeared in your line of vision you knew you deserved his wrath for every inconvenience you had a role in while inserted into his path. 
“Don’t just say it. Mean it.” 
The room felt smaller, suffocating, colder and Hobi’s words rolled around in your head in every single direction. The three of you were sprawled around your full bed watching a random movie Jimin had picked out. You sat up against the headboard while the two of them laid on their stomachs facing the television hung on your wall. You weren’t alone but your bed felt empty and as you looked off to your right you couldn’t help but be transported back to last night when you and Jungkook finally settled on the Titanic.
The tragic telling of two people who found their way to each other against all circumstances and the barrier of societal norms and expectations that stood in-between them. Of course, aside from Leo unnecessarily dying in the final act this could be a retelling of pinpoints on your relationship with Jungkook. You liked each other, your parents were against it, you lived in the moment and you let your heart lead a way here and there but as soon as the iceberg (your parents, your ex, and even you) became introduced as the antagonist the two of you found yourselves swimming in an ocean of heartbreak and despair. 
You would always assume responsibility for every single way you hurt Jungkook in the past but if one thing must be crystal clear is that you also love him. You did back then and you do now—the only difference is that back then you were looking to please all of those around you and you suppress your feelings in the deepest pocket of your heart but you wanted to liberate it all. You were finally ready to listen to your heart.
It was a composition to a beautiful song, one so loud it courses through your very being, awakening your nerves and causing your thoughts to explode into a frenzy. 
You wanted him here with you. Snuggling into you sharing longing looks and deprived touches. 
You wanted him to be open and push all of his fears away. 
You wanted him to realize that you were different now. Things were different and you would treat him so well. 
I need to talk to her. Yeah. 
Almost as if his brain and his phone were wired together you heard a ding go off right beside you. 
‘Hey, can we please talk?’
Your heart sank because in your experience that sentence never led to a good thing. Never. 
‘Sure. When are you free?’
‘Right now.’
‘Hobi and Jimin are home. You can come over if you don’t mind some company or we can meet somewhere else?’
‘Come to my apartment in 5.’ 
‘K.’ 
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Jittery was the exact word you’d use to describe Jungkook at soon as he opened up the door to his apartment and stepped aside to allow you in. The length of his finger had a slight tremble and his eyes were blown wide. 
You hadn’t really seen him like that in a while. 
“Jungkook, are you okay?” 
He nodded, “yeah, just a bit stressed with everything going on plus I’ve had like five energy drinks in the past five hours.” 
“What’s got you so stressed?” you asked standing before him, you felt hesitant to sit anymore. I mean you did have his dick in your mouth like less than twenty-four hours ago but you didn’t want to push it and you certainly did not want to invade his personal space. 
“Too many things, honestly. School for one. .” he ran a hand through his hair taking a brief second to determine exactly what he wanted to reveal to you, “work study plus now I'll be co-coaching the swim team as well.” 
“You’re headstrong Jungkook,” you offered, “I’m sure you’ll do amazingly even with this hectic schedule you are so determined to take on.” 
“I went to this psychic once and she told me my ambition to take on everything would lead to my demise,” he chuckled airily, “I’m beginning to think she was right.” 
“Psychics are bullshit. Who says you can’t have cake and chocolate ice cream too?” 
“Right,” you hadn’t noticed before but casual was Jungkook’s new staple. Seems like he has drifted away from his black boots and particularly dark toned outfits. You liked that version of him quite a lot, although you hadn’t really shown it in the past. However, you also liked the version of him standing before you where he maximized comfort and migrated to mostly tones of white, gray and nudes, “of course you would make that comparison. Cake and chocolate ice cream have always been your go to dessert combination.” 
“Isn’t it everyones?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “for example my nutritionist might say it’s too sugary.” 
“Well, fuck the psychic and that nutritionist of yours too,” Jungkook’s laugh is just like the rest of him—inviting, sweet and genuine. When he laughs, it’s addictive enough to make you want to make him laugh again and again, just so you can hear that sound and see her giggly smile as much as possible, “forreal, but also just remember you gotta just live in the moment, don't worry about tomorrow or even yesterday. Today is all that matters.” 
“I definitely agree but funny enough I kinda wanted to talk to you about what happened last night..” He cleared his throat, “on the couch of your apartment. Well you and Hobi’s apartment.” 
You looked down at your dusty white converse before finding his eyes once again, “what exactly did you want to talk about?” 
Go on. Go on. 
“We’re good right? Are you okay after—well, you know,” was he worried about hurting you after you suck him off yesterday? God, you could suck his dick all over again and then once more after that or preferably until your jaw locks and your knees dissipate. Though, that still wouldn’t be enough to extinguish the burning desire in the pit of your stomach. 
“What exactly are you asking?” you took a step towards him, “shouldn’t I be the one making sure we’re good especially considering all of our history together?” 
“Forget that.” 
Don’t bring it up, please. Just forget about it. 
“I can’t Jungkook,” you sighed, “I wanna make sure we’re okay and I wanna apologize for what happened. Please, let me do it. I don’t want you to resent me for the rest of your life because of it.” 
“There’s no need to. I forgave you long ago. The cold stares and snarky comments were always just a front,” he confessed, “I forgave you the second after everything went down.” 
“And I thank you for that but I still need to do this. I need to get it off my chest,” you reached for his hand; the warmth of his hold settled your nerves and finally you were able to go on, “Please, forgive me Jungkook. For going through with that dare and kissing you in the bathroom. I did want to kiss you but I should’ve never let them take a picture; it only made things worse for you. I’m sorry for not comforting you after your fight with my idiot ex, although I wanted to. I was scared but you were too and it was my fault so I should’ve been there. I’m sorry for ghosting you after we spent the night together at Yeonjun’s party—my parents, they gave me an ultimatum and I was just a high school senior still very dependent on them and I know that’s not an excuse but I managed to make it one back then. Most of all I’m so fucking sorry for not reaching out to you sooner and making things right. I just hope it isn’t too late now.” 
His hands abandoned yours and instead he leaned over before cupping your face, “I told you already. I forgave you for everything a long time ago.” 
“I appreciate your kind heart and forgiving nature, Jungkook,” you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes in the process, “but still I needed you to know how truly sorry I am.”
“Please, stop apologizing,” he sighed, “the past is the past and you have no reason to be apologizing to me right now.” 
“You keep saying that but I did and I do,” Jungkook’s stare was comforting; his eyes felt like embers burning your skin under the sun rays shining bright during the mid-afternoon sun, “and I will continue to do so at any given minute. I need to make up for all of that lost time—every single minute; every hour I’ve let you slip through my fingers. You deserve to be treasured, loved and cherished for the rest of your days and I will do just that if you allow me to.” 
“What exactly are you asking me?” 
“I’m simply asking that we allow things to ride out and perhaps the tide might just take us somewhere beautiful.” 
He giggled, “do these sonnets just live in that pretty little head of yours?” 
“My head is more than just pretty,” you challenge. 
“I know that,” this is the giddiest you’ve ever seen Jungkook be. In recent times he had adopted a sort of hard shell, which he often wore like a shield but today as he leaned on his kitchen island with his head propped up on his palms he looked elated, “I just like the way you describe the potential of there being an. . us.”
“Do you like it enough to give things a chance? Maybe even go on a date?” the tremble in your extremities gave away just how truly nervous you felt, though you tried your best to hide it. You’d never asked anyone out before but for Jungkook you were willing to make the first move. 
She’s so poetic with her affinity for love. I like the way her eyes light up when she talks about us being together. 
“How about tomorrow?” 
“I’m free tomorrow.” 
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The following day was a blur overshadowed by a nimbostratus cloud which swept in a vicious squall with gusts so powerful your room was left a literal mess as you spent hours prior to Jungkook picking up frantically looking for the perfect date outfit. 
Now, you sat in your little casual red dress in the passenger seat of the car Jungkook borrowed from his best friend. Your balmy sat atop your thighs and you tapped your fingers lightly on your heated skin. 
The night sky was beautiful—drowning with a million of bright stars and a moon so illuminating it spotlighted your path. Nightlife here roared with vibrancy and the sidewalks were congested with people bar hopping or looking for dinner spots among other things.  This scene had great capability in finally claiming your attention away from Jungkook and his sinful thoughts but it was hard. Every single image Jungkook painted within the beauty of his mind blasted in your head seemingly like a framed art piece in a gallery. Except, the only difference was that roaming around a museum was peaceful, whereas Jungkook's wandering thoughts made you quiver and sent glacial shivers down your spine. 
For the duration of the ten minute car ride he’s use the weapon known as his mind and managed to peel your clothes off, re-imagining the way your mouth moved on his cock, then, within seconds he painted a picture of what it would be like to fuck you against the hood of his car. You’d admit the depiction of you against the cold metal bumper with your dress hiked up to your waist, while he pounds into you relentlessly really was more than enough to ignite (with the man sitting behind the wheel; eyes hyper focused on the road ahead; and his tattooed knuckles gripping the steering wheel), about a million fantasies you wanted to fulfill with his assistance. 
But the urge to have the heat of his touch roam every inch of your body became abated when Jungkook parked his car and you found yourselves sitting across from each other in the red booth of a seafood restaurant on the pier. The incandescent bulb overhead did very little to irradiate the space between you and yet Jungkook still looked as radiant as ever. The muffled and incessant chatter of the patrons scattered throughout the establishment became similar to the buzzing of bumble bees and truly you weren’t really too sure you could make out conversations they engaged in. 
You were kind of nervous and although you’d hope it wasn’t too obvious you couldn’t help the way your eyes scanned the room and your body failed to comply with the simple order of sitting still. 
“You look beautiful tonight,” Jungkook sat up on the leather seat and looked off outside the glass window drinking in the vicious waves as they crashed against the golden shore. 
You look beautiful every single day. 
“Thank you,” you smiled, “I see your signature black boots have finally made a comeback,” you followed his eyes out to get a view of the roaring sea, “I thought you might’ve grown out of them.” 
This look—tonight was the epitome of teenage Jungkook core and you couldn’t help but savor the brief stroll down memory lane. Of course, back in high school you’d always had a tiny little crush on him and while you worked to get over it; that was not an issue today. You were gawking—practically drooling at how amazing his biceps looked under the sleeves of his white tee, his black jeans hugged his thick thighs and his hair was tied half up half down and of course those damned black boots. 
“They’re my secret weapon. I just keep them in the back of my closet for special occasions.” 
I also know they were always your favorite look on me. 
“In that case, I’m honored that a night with me is considered a special occasion enough to bring out the boots,” Jungkook finally turned towards you, his eyes shining bright like jewels even in the shitty lighting. 
“I figured it fit our little slice of history perfectly.” 
“Don’t tell me these were the exact ones you wore that day? 
“They are the exact same ones.” 
“I thought you would have gotten rid of them with everything that transpired,” you whispered; talking about the past still felt taboo. 
“I contemplated that many times,” he shrugged then proceeded in a timorous voice, “but I just couldn’t. There is an abundance of bad memories attached to them but the memory of my first kiss trumps all negatives.” 
“Your first kiss?” Your shock was evident and for a second you had to look around just to make sure you weren‘t too loud but the people around the two of you were too into their own conversations. They were oblivious to the little corner you and Jungkook occupied towards the back of the restaurant—in your own little world, “I-I was your first kiss?” 
He nodded before taking a small sip of his water. 
“Jungkook?” 
He looked at you, “what?” 
“Are you being one-hundred percent serious. . I was your first kiss?” 
Jungkook pressed his lips into a tight line causing his cheeks to become impaled by his chasmic dimples; then, he closed his eyes briefly before taking a deep breath, “I was a loser in high school. Of course, I was spared a few friends but in the ‘love’ department I was lacking severely so naturally no one was ever interested in pursuing anything romantic with me. Until, that afternoon when the girl I’d been crushing on finally walked up to me in the bathroom.” 
“If I could go back in time and embrace the feelings that I had for you, Jungkook just to tell you how I actually felt I’d do it in a heartbeat,” your heart beat rhythmically in your chest and quickly you began feeling fatigued as if your air supply would be cut off if you didn’t peel back every single one of your layers and confess exactly how you felt. 
“If I could go back in time and tell you what I actually felt despite the consequences I’d also do it in a heartbeat,” he murmured, taking your hands in his. 
“Good evening and welcome to Under the Sea, can I get you started on anything tonight?” the server approached. Her hair was tied up messily and she wore a black polo and black pants while carrying around a small notepad and pencil in her hand. She seemed friendly but a bit overwhelmed—though, you couldn’t really blame her, this place is leaning a whole lot towards chaos. 
“Yeah, we’re ready,” Jungkook said, a fib of course, the two of you had been too busy talking to scan the menu before she came over, “I’ll take the Cioppino. Anything looking appetizing to you?” 
“I think I’ll take the Paella.” 
“And for drinks?” she asked scribbling away on her notepad. 
“I’ll have a Coke.” 
“Same here,” the two of you handed back the menu, “thank you.”
“I’ll be right back with your drinks,” she smiled before walking off towards the kitchen. 
The rest of the night at Under the Sea was brief and while you and Jungkook indulged in small talk here and there the two of you were starving and more concerned about getting something in your stomach. After leaving the busy restaurant Jungkook led you in the opposite direction of the parking lot towards the small park across the street from the beach. Right under the live oak tree there was a blanket laid out with numerous flameless candles flickering their feeble light around the very spot. As you got closer you noticed the basket sitting next to the blanket on the grass and the rose petals scattered around. 
“Jungkook. .” You became stunned at the attention to detail of the man before you. Everything looked so beautiful, “you did this all? W-when did you even have the time to set this up?” 
“I set everything up before our date and I know some of the workers from the restaurant and asked them to check in every once in a while and bring our snacks out like five minutes ago so nothing would spoil.” 
“You prepared snacks for us?” 
“More like I cut-up some fruits.” 
“In that case I’m judging your knife skills.” 
“Not too harshly though,” he tittered softly and airily. It mimicked the comforting tunes of lullabies, “come one, let’s sit. I have some things lined up for us tonight.” 
You sat beside him on the velvet fabric, you folded your legs to your side and used one of the spare blankets to cover your lap. Before you there were two medium sized tabletop easels and a selection of paints and brushes. 
Jungkook removed the white button up he’d left unbuttoned and kept on the white wifebeater. For the first time you finally had a full view of his sleeve; on full display. The black traces filled in with colorful shades adorned every inch of his right arm all the way down to his wrist. You had the urge to reach out and trace every single pattern but you held back—you and Jungkook were good but this is the beginning stage; first you have to dip your toe in and test the waters. 
She’s staring at my arms. . Be calm. 
Don’t flex. . Don’t flex. 
Dammit. 
He flexed, reaching up to brush a stand of hair back and out of his face. 
You smiled, “so, what’s supposed to be our inspiration for painting tonight?” 
“Each other. You paint me and I’ll paint you.” 
“Jungkook, I’m a lousy painter,” you whined. 
“The point isn’t for it to be good,” Jungkook began brushing soft strokes on the canvas, “it’s about the creative process. . the ideas that your mind interprets into art.” 
“That’s easy for you to say,” you scoffed. 
“Art didn’t always come easy to me.” 
“How did you know this is what you wanted to do for the rest of your life?” you finally picked up a brush and squeezed a dash of paint on the wooden palette, allowing your hands to work freely—to create. 
“The first time I drew anything for others to see was in high school,” his eyes were gleaming with thoughts of reminisce, “Ms. Julie, reached out to me sophmore year, said she needed my help designing the yearbook cover for the seniors that year.” 
“I remember the cover that year,” Jungkook looked over at you and there was a layer of joy featured on his face, “it was absolutely beautiful and I also remember every single cover after that being just as amazing.” 
“Thank you,” his cheeks were a crisp crimson now, “I designed all of the year books every year after that as well. Actually, I still help Ms. Julie from time to time even now.” 
“That’s amazing. It’s truly a gift that your hands possess and I’m so glad we get to see what they create.” 
Jungkook stopped his movements all together, his gaze no longer set on the easel, instead he looked downward, his cheeks still burned bright, maybe a little more now than before and by the paced heaves of his chest he seemed to be calculating his every breath. 
“Thank thank you,” he stammered. 
“And just so you know I intend to shower you with compliments, so get used to it.” 
He beamed, “what about you?” 
“What about me?” 
“What are your passions?” 
You shrugged, “Hm, I was never really good at anything back in highschool and while I knew I had to do something. I had a really tough time figuring things out.” 
“But then. .” 
“Then, I did an internship at the daycare on campus the summer before classes started and I realized how much I love being around all of the kids,” you said, “and at that moment I automatically knew what my major would be, come the fall semester.” 
“Funny how life works right?” 
“One-hundred percent.” 
The cool draft of the expeditious night swept by softly allowing you to leave behind the once scorching afternoon. Right now, you became a resident in your very own slice of heaven and in your head the only people around for miles were you and Jungkook. For the past thirty minutes, the two of you haven’t crossed many words, you were too focused on contextualizing the perfect artwork—one that’ll remind him of you wherever he sees it. 
Now, you were not an artist by any means but you tried nevertheless. The best interpretation of him you could come up with was to depict the sheer contrast between the different versions of himself. 
The two were slightly different yet when meshed together working symbiotically to make Jungkook the perfect mixture of tranquil, mesmerizing and lulling all in one. 
Your canvas was split in two—one side you painted baby blue with music notes substituting the clouds in what would be the bright afternoon sky and and a lousy excuse for a guitar sitting on the bottom. This was the version of him that lived inside and the one only a few people got to see. His mysterious aura and great passion for music. Then, on the opposite side you painted a black background in combination with it there was an abundance of colorful art supplies scattered all throughout. This one represented what he chooses to show and what many saw on the outside on his day-to-day course. 
After some finishing touches you moved back on taking one last look at your work, “okay. . Here, I tried my best but it’s not your face. Just some things that remind me of you.” 
“Let’s see,” he hummed excitedly, waiting for you to turn the canvas around. 
“Be nice, okay?” 
“I will, I will.” 
When Jungkook was excited there were a lot of distinctive actions that communicated with his body and expressions. His eyes lit up like the explosions of fireworks on a summer night; his shoulders were raised up past his jawline and his cheeks burned bright. 
“It’s not good, okay,” you beamed at his cheerfulness; it was cute how thrilled he was. 
“It’s perfect,” he leaned closer to sneak a glance, “come on. Let me see.” 
“Fine,” turning the canvas around felt like an invasion of privacy, although everything on it was solely about him, it was still like a clear window into your soul and how you saw him. 
You’d never been this vulnerable before with anyone. Never. 
He scanned the explosion of colors sitting in-between your hands. Jungkook’s lips curved up while the corners of his eyes wrinkled in amusement. 
“This is amazing and absolutely the best depiction of everything I love.”
“Don’t lie to me, Professor Picasso.” 
“I don’t lie about art,” he reached for it and you placed it in his hands, “and this is a masterpiece.” 
You scoffed. 
“I’m serious,” he argued, “this is going up on my art wall. Front and center.” 
“This better be the only thing on your art wall,” you muttered. 
Jungkook finally grabbed his canvas holding it close to his chest. . Well, as close as he could due to the wet paint, “Here’s mine.” he still had not turned it around for you to see. 
“You know you actually have to turn it for me to take a look.” 
He chuckled, “I know but nervousness is contagious. . Just gimme one second.” He took a deep breath before slowly turning the canvas in your direction and there you were. Same facial features, hair style and red dress you had chosen for the night. The talent his fingers convey is jaw dropping. It is evident Jungkook is an amazing artist through and through. 
“Jungkook. .” You knew he was good; you’d seen the covers he had designed for the highschool yearbook back then, still, that didn’t prepare you for this in the slightest bit to see yourself from his point of view, “I don’t have an art wall but this will definitely be the beginning of one in my apartment.” 
He guffawed while passing his painting over. 
“I’m serious,” you continued, now closely examining his precise attention to detail. He got every single attribute down to the smallest scars and birthmarks, “your talent is impeccable. Just look at how amazing this is.  It’s actually not fair at all. I want mine back.” 
“No way! You can’t take back gifts you have already given away to someone.” 
“Yes, I can,” you argued, “especially if my gift looks like shit next to yours.” 
“It most definitely doesn’t. I already told you, I love it and it’s going up on my wall and there’s nothing you can do about it,” he leaned closer, placing a soft peck on your forehead and clutching the painting tight in his grasp. 
You groaned admitting defeat, “but I am expecting a lot more paintings from you.”
“Always.” 
Of course. As long as you’re beside me, and even if some day for some reason you aren’t, you’ll continue to be my muse forever. 
His muse. You love the sound of that. 
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The sound of the pouring rain beat rhythmically on the glass window. For the next few hours your bed was your haven and Jungkook’s bare arms were your form of a warm blanket.
Although the clock on your night stand marked four o’clock, the day was as dark as night and as the sun refused to come out to play the dark nimbus clouds invaded the stretch of the expansive sky, refusing to allow even a single ray of light to illuminate your bedroom. 
The power had gone out but the two of you had lit up some candles in various locations of your room. You were both in your underwear, semi-sticky with a thin layer of sweat coating your entire body as a result of the air conditioner no longer being on. 
Even in the heat the two of you couldn’t untangle yourselves from each other. 
“We’ve been laying here in the heat for hours,” his fingers raked over your shoulder and down to the middle of your back. 
“There’s nowhere we can go to cool down for the day. I’m afraid these four walls are it for us today,” you complained. 
“And moving will only make us hotter.” 
“I think the two of us being tangled up like this is already making us hotter.” 
His hands tightened around your waist, “yet there’s nothing you can say to let me go.” 
“Then, it’s a good thing I don’t want you to let go,” you crossed your arms on his chest and laid your chin on them; looking up at him through your lashes taking in his figure as he laid back against the headboard. 
“Why are you looking up at me like that?” he asked though his eyes were still closed. 
“I just like having you. . here.” 
“In your room?” he asked. 
“In my life,” you confessed, “I guess I never thought we could make it here again.” 
“I had faith—hope. I knew that eventually we would get to talk and forgive each other.” 
Every fight and every bicker was a call to drive you closer to me. Immature I know, but it was all I could do and say to get close to you. 
“You didn’t do anything wrong to me, Jungkook,” you traced lines over his collarbones leaving before sparks of electricity; you felt as they traveled down to the tip of your finger, “if anything I was constantly praying you’d forgive me.” 
Forgiving you was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.  
“I walked away after Yeonjun’s party,” he caressed your cheeks with the pads to his finger, “that was my worst mistake and I knew exactly how it looked too; like I just hit it and quit it.” 
“You didn’t hit it and quit it, Jungkook,” you sighed, “I did that to us. I was the one who walked away from us. None of it was your fault.” 
“But I let you walk away. I didn’t fight for us.” 
“Hey,” you cradled his face in your hands, “I didn’t let you fight for us. This is on me.” 
But I never went searching for you. I just let you—walk away. The night you got up from that longue chair on the rooftop of Yeonjun’s house I thought that was our beginning; I just never thought it could be our end instead. 
“It’s on us,” Jungkook leaned into your touch, softly moving his cheek against your palm, “but we can only work to overcome our past. . Together.” 
You held onto the gold link looped around his neck, clutching it in order to pull him towards you until finally your faces were just an inch away from each other, “Together.” 
“Kiss me, please,” his breath fanned across your lips as you continued guiding him closer and closer to you—his eyes were closed once again and he completely succumbed into this trance of your navigation. His lips were warm and velvet; parting slowly before they landed on yours. You became lost in the way your heartbeat continued beating faster and faster. The soft ballad of the steady thrumming tickled your ears and along with the taste of his mint lips on yours you began feeling a bit faint. 
The room was still hot, the power was still out and you still sat on Jungkook’s lap but now you became exhilarated riding off the feelings in the way your body connected. It wasn’t just the kiss—no, it was also the way his electric touch began tracing the lines outlining your body, traveling down between your breasts, then down your stomach and up your sides until they rested on your hips. Jungkook’s fingers teasingly toyed around with the elastic waistband of your panties, rubbing small circles on your lower back. 
You were breathless pulling away from that kiss but in between breaths you managed to pull his forehead against yours before allowing yourself to speak one again, “Jungkook, can I tell you something?” 
He nodded. 
“I-I want you, Jungkook,” your brain felt like it melted right into mush and there were no coherent thoughts in your head that didn’t revolve around Jungkook. 
You were dickmatized. Yes, you were. 
“You have me.” 
“I want all of you.” 
“Take it all,” he whispered. 
Do anything you want to me. Do everything you want to me. Do whatever you want with me. I am yours for the taking. 
You felt the beads of sweat strolling down your body accompanying the slight tremble in your every movement. Still, you moved with the facade of faux confidence and soon you found yourself straddling his thigh, sinking down against his heated and sticky skin. Indulging in a steady pace you began moving back and forth against his thigh all while holding onto his shoulder for support. Jungkook’s head fell back against the wall but his hands never left your waist guiding your movements to the quickened beat of desperation. 
“You look so pretty riding my thigh. You know that?” he smirked; his cheeks were the tone of wine. Jungkook bit his lip to maintain focus on the sloppy motion he continued to maneuver. 
You hummed entirely consumed by that heated feeling in between your thighs—entranced in the way his soft whimpers only guided you towards that very place where you could finally reach out and touch the stars. 
“Fuck—fuck, keep going, yeah?” you stammered never ever wanting him to stop being the root of your every desire. 
What gave her the impression that I’d stop? This. . Us, it just feels so right. I will never be able to live in a reality where the image of her getting off on my thigh could ever cease—not after today. Not ever. 
“Just-just let me guide you, baby girl,” his voice was low and husk followed by a series of unpaced breaths. 
“Take me there, Jungkook,” you moaned. 
Oh, fuck—I’ll take you there baby. I’ll take you there. I’ll take you there. 
His fingers dug into you while his fingernails left behind marks of deep crescents traced on your skin. The guidance of his movements was near animalistic and the fabric of your panties was now sticking to your juices and there was nothing you craved more than the desirous urge to unravel under the trance of Jungkook’s ministrations. 
Back and forth; back and forth you moved reaching higher and higher as your fingertips brushed touch the points of the luminous star and before you knew your teeth sunk into his shoulders suppressing your moans and your hips no longer followed the rhythm he previously set and you were finally swimming in the night sky—so high; so satiated. 
“Oh,” you breathed, “that-that was amazing.” 
“You tired yet?” he asked. 
“Not at all.” 
Jungkook hugged your waist and flipped the two of you over; your bodies pressing together heatedly against the ocean of sheets, breathing heavily as your lips pressed together once again. His hands quickly dipped under the waistband of your panties reaching for your inner thigh, until you felt him press the pads of his fingers in between your folds smearing the combination of your juices. After  his torturous teasing he slipped two fingers pumping them in and out of you quickly. 
“Oh, baby,” he finally pulled away from your lips, allowing a string of whimpers to slip past your swollen lips, “you feel so fucking good.” 
“Jungkook, faster please,” you rocked your hips to match the beat of his fingers moving in and out of you. 
“Is that what you want?” he hummed, “tell me. You want to cum at the mercy of my fingers?” 
“Yes-yes. That’s what I want please.” 
Jungkook laid beside you on the bed with his face buried in the nape of your neck. His hand still worked diligently to get you off as he whispered soft praises against the shell of your ears. You were in your very own depiction of utopia—euphoric with stimulation of endorphins. 
“I’m close-close, Jungkook,” you dragged your nails down his back, likely leaving streaks of red trails behind as he quickened his pace. Meanwhile, you felt your body temperature skyrocket and the knot in the pit of your stomach tightened until it could not become any tighter and for the second time that night you felt how the storm passed and once again you floated throughout the night sky. 
While Jungkook strove to read your body like the ink inscripted into the pages of his favorite book; the absence of his wandering hands made you feel empty—as if you couldn’t really breathe. At all. 
“What happened, baby girl?” his lips traveled downwards on your body while his hands finally worked to unclasp your bra, (two orgasms later you couldn’t believe you still had all your undergarments on), and now your breasts became the forefront of his attack and leisurely he took each nipple in between his teeth smirking at your gasps and shudders as a result of your sensitivity, “are you the one who can’t stand the rule of not touching today?” 
“Ah—,” he lightly bit the side of your left breast before kissing it better, “the only thing I hate right now is that your dick isn’t in me right now.” 
He laughed; the booming sounds struck just like the raucous cries of thunder just outside your windows, “what makes you think I’m gonna fuck you tonight?” 
“I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I can feel how hard you are against my leg.” 
“What? This?” Jungkook sat-up on the bed working to remove his boxers. When he finally did he discarded them to the pool of clothes somewhere on your bedroom floor while his cock sat before you like it had been a few days prior.  Jungkook laid back down in front of you, placed a tender kiss on your forehead before he moved closer towards you, lifting your leg up and allowing it to rest on his hip. Once positioned he began rubbing the head of his cock against your clothed slit —especially focusing on the sensitive bud. 
He traced the lines of your lips over and over until you couldn’t take it any longer and tears began filling your eyes and you chanted hastely begging him to fuck you right into the mattress. 
“Please, Jungkook,” a needy whimpered rolled off your tongue, “please fuck me, please fuck me please.” 
Jungkook was now on top of you and he reached down, moving your soaked panties to the side before he lined himself at your entrance. You closed your eyes anticipating that moment when his cock would slip in and stretch you out so good you’d feel full beyond relief. And just as you imagined he slowly pushed himself past your entrance, your mouth fell agape at the sensation of his cock invading you inch by inch. 
The feeling was immeasurable and better than anything you’d ever felt before. 
“Will you be okay if I move?” he asked almost out of breath. 
You nodded frantically.
“Just let me know if you wanna stop at any point, okay?” he remained still. 
You nodded once again. 
Jungkook moved cautiously, setting a lento rhythm—almost as if he thought you’d break if he fucked into you too hard. His tattooed hand brushed your heated cheeks as he continued his agonizingly slow thrusts. The room was still silent for the most part except now in company to the pitter-patter of the pouring rain the two of you contributed your very own duet composed of his guttural groans mixed and your shaky pants. 
His lips left sweet kisses behind on both of your cheeks, then your nose, your chin and lastly your forehead. 
She looks so fucking beautiful like this; all sweaty and aroused just for me. Fucked out just for me. I’m so lucky. So lucky. 
“Jungkook?” you tucked your bottom lip under your top row of teeth. 
“Yes?” 
“Deeper, please,” you whined, “not faster but harder. I want to feel you deep in me.” 
Deeper? Fuck. She’s gonna be the death of me. I swear she is. I’ll fuck you just how you’d like baby girl. I’ll fuck you right. 
“Okay—okay,” he stammered. 
Jungkook stopped his movements and pulled out momentarily as he adjusted his position in between your legs. He grabbed both of them and wrapped them around his waist before pushing past your entrance once again, and yes, it felt just as jaw dropping as the first time. Jungkook’s pace remained lento except now whenever he was about to push back into you he made sure to lunge himself deeper causing the sounds of his skin slapping against yours to echo within the walls of your room. 
“Oh, Jungkoook,” you let out a drawn-out moan, chanting his name repeatedly, “right-right there, oh, Jungkooook. Right there. Please don’t stop.” 
He continued penetrating you just as you wanted until once again, for the third time that night, you were on the very edge of the planet. You could see the exact place where the sky met the earth. Trotting towards the phenom you felt the way your heartbeat quickened and finally as you approached you began clenching around him until you witnessed an explosion of stars behind your eyes; a feeling so blissful your knuckles turned white as you clutched the sheets underneath you in your grasp. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. .” he hissed pulling out quickly. 
“What’s wrong?” you gasp at the feeling of emptiness now substituted by a ravenous void. 
“I almost finished inside of you and we forgot to wear a condom,” his cock was held tightly in his hand.
You swiped your tongue on your lips, “would you like some help with that?” 
“That is not how today is supposed to go,” he mocked. 
“Fine,” you shrug, “but I was going to offer my body as an alternative.” Jungkook’s  pupils become dilated, your words obviously peeking his interest, “come on my face, Jungkook.” 
“Are you sure?” 
“Positive.” 
Jungkook towered over you on the bed, kneeling right beside you on the bed—by now you were spent, too tired to do anything but lay there and admire the way his head hung back as he worked to find his release. The design of his tattoos followed suit beginning all the way from his shoulder blade, to his flexed and veiny bicep all the way down to the tight clasp of his finger around his shaft moving hastily from base to tip. 
“Look at you, baby girl. All eager for me to come on you,” Jungkook said through clenched teeth, “you’re so naughty for me. All for me.” 
“All for you, Jungkook,” you repeated, “I can’t wait to feel just how warm you’ll be on my face. Come on, baby. ” 
Your mantra of praises rolled off your tongue semi-automatically but you were needy to feel his seed on you so you continued using your words to aid him in the process of jerking off. He continued moving his hand up and down his length until the tip became painted white with drops of pre-come. 
“I’m almost—” he cried out; his guttural whimpers sent waves of glacial shivers interlacing with the ridges of your spine. 
“Yes, Jungkook. Be a good boy.” 
“I am a good boy,” his labored breathing came out in puffs, “I am. .” 
“Then, come on baby. I’m waiting.” 
Jungkook was immersed in what you knew was likely the build-up of his approaching release. His chest inflated and deflated rapidly, while the muscles in his stomach tightened accentuating his already sculpted physique while his cheeks turned a bright scarlet. 
“I’m coming!” He cried out. 
The spurts of his white semen painted your face as he worked himself to the very last drop. Even in his moment of release Jungkook was careful enough to aim towards your mouth and chin and you licked everything within reach of your tongue. 
“Let me get a wet rag and I’ll clean you up okay?” Jungkook stood from the bed and placed a kiss on your forehead before walking towards your bedroom door and opening it up. 
A few seconds went by and suddenly you heard a loud shriek and a plethora of muffled words which sounded a lot like your best friend, Hoseok. Not a lot of time went by before you saw Jungkook enter the room frantically before slamming the door shut and leaning against the wooden surface. 
“Hoseok’s home?” you laughed. 
“And Jimin.” 
“And they saw?” 
“Mhm.” 
“Please remind me to never leave this room naked again.”
“Yes! Please remind him!” Hoseok yelled from just outside the door. 
A bursting titter erupted between the two of you and Jungkook climbed back into bed with you before he helped you wipe off the mess he’d made on your body, then laid down beside you. 
“Can I ask you something?” You began snuggling deeper into his embrace. 
“Yes?.” 
“Will you stay here tonight?” You asked barely above a whisper—barely audible. 
Jungkook rested his chin on the crook of your neck, “of course, I’ll stay with you tonight.” 
There was no place you’d rather be than embraced in the solace of Jungkook’s warmth. 
Tonight, tomorrow, and forever after that. 
I’ll always stay with you.
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an: you know what im about to say right? ignore the smut scene ~if you must~ it literally took me like two weeks to write because my brain wasn’t working >.<
i literally started working on this like a week before seven released…. *gulps*
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cheolhub · 2 years
Text
CUM INSIDE! ⌇BTS REACTIONS ࿐
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— PROMPT: bts member’s reaction to hearing “cum inside!” for the first time.
— PAIRING: members x f!reader
— GENRE: smut. 18+ minors dni.
— WARNINGS: creampies (duh), rough sex, baby talk (joon and tae), overstimulation, fingering, unprotected sex (don’t do this), mentions of birth control, forced (?) creampie in jimin’s, mean dom!hobi, heavy degradation (use of slut & bitch), spanking (1), tae w/ breeding kink (he’s crazy), slight mention of insecurity in koo’s, peer pressure (?), whiny jk <3 heavy praise & use of pet names (if i missed any let me know :0)
— A. NOTE: hellooooo this is my first time writing for bts so please be kind, but also let me know what u think :D !! xx
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KIM NAMJOON  ࿐
namjoon doesn’t want kids (at least not right now), you know that, but the way he fucks you makes you believe otherwise. you almost think he’s crazy the way he fucks you stupid without fail every. single. time. it’s only worse when you utter the words he’s wanted to hear for so long.
“cum in me, joonie!” you cry out, hands gripping the sheets.
his pace is already brutal, but there’s something so taboo about hearing your desperate voice that makes him snap. his eyes nearly roll and any coherent thought about safety leaves his mind.
“yeah? you want me to fill up this cute cunt?” he grunts as the blunt head of his cock bruises your cervix. “want me to give you a fuckin’ baby? s’ that it?”
you know he doesn’t know what he’s saying. he knows you’re on birth control. he knows he doesn’t want a kid, yet he’s going to fill you up to his heart’s content.
“joon!“ you squeal as you clench tightly around his cock, eyes threatening to roll back at his dirty words. the only thing you know now is his name. 
he moans at how your cunt envelops his fat cock in the most perfect manner. “you like that idea? fuck, m’ gonna give it all to you, okay? just cream my fuckin’ cock, baby,” he babbles, his grip on your waist tightening as he throbs inside of your spasming pussy. 
you cum without warning, a silent scream fleeing your mouth, and the feeling of you wrapping even tighter around him makes him cry loudly. his toes curl as his orgasm washes over him and he shoots long ribbons of cum inside of you. 
“oh, fuck yeah, baby,” he moans loudly as he rides out his orgasm rutting into you as his cum fills you up. “y-you did so fuckin’ well,” he stutters as he collapses on top of you, softening length slipping out of your creamy cunt. 
“you,” you pant out, trying to regain full consciousness. “are insane.”
“all for you, baby.” he smiles, pressing his lips to yours. “now what do you say we do that again in the shower?”
KIM SEOKJIN ࿐
seokjin would quite literally do anything you asked of him. you’re his girl, his princess, his angel. if you wanted him to, he’d walk to the ends of the earth. he’s never been opposed to anything you’ve asked of him. but when you ask him to fill you up with his cum, he’s taken aback.
“are you… sure?” he questions worriedly, yet his cock hardens at the mere thought of his cum dressing your insides. 
you nod, a sweet smile on your face, “yeah, only if you wanna… just wanna try it, yunno? see what the hype is about!” you reason. “if we don’t like it, you can keep making a mess on my face, i love that too,” 
he clears his throat, nodding his head—anything for his girl. 
and that’s how you ended up here.
“jinnie!” you cry feeling him move deeper inside with every stroke. 
“fuck,” he groans, hands tightly gripping your waist as he works his cock into your sloppy pussy. “gonna cum, princess, are you ready?” 
you gasp, nodding vigorously, excited to feel the warmth of his cum. “yeah— hah! cum in me, please!” 
he feels the way you clench around him and lets out a soft moan as he buries himself deep inside your gummy walls. he empties his load inside painting your walls and leaving the both of you shaking and withering.
he pants, pulling out and watching his cum ooze out of your ruined cunt. it’s almost as if he’s entranced by it, fingers moving to push it back into you before his mind could stop him.
you whine his name loudly at the sudden contact, “b-baby! s’ too much!” your hand wraps around his wrist, but he simply shakes you off. 
“uh-uh, can’t waste what you asked for, princess,” he mumbles, continuing to finger fuck his cum into your overstimulated pussy. he’s never cumming anywhere else. 
MIN YOONGI ࿐
you were horny. so unbelievably horny. with yoongi spending so much time in the studio, there wasn’t much you could do with yourself. sure, you could use your fingers or the magic wand you’d bought before the two of you got together, but you knew it wasn’t going to be enough. you need to feel every inch of him stretching you out. 
that’s when you end up at his studio, typing in the code on the keypad. when you walk in, he turns to look at you, a small grin appearing on his face. “hi, baby,” he stands to kiss you. “what are you doin’ here?”
you hum softly, thinking of something enticing to say to provoke him. you bite back a smirk as your hand runs over his cotton-covered chest, “missed you, yoongi…” you start, a pout forming on your face. “missed your hands… your lips… your cock,”
his breath hitches, “babe, i- i have to–”
“need you to cum inside, yoongi, please? need it– crave it, fuck,” you paw at the elastic band of his sweats. “m’ so wet, baby… can’t you spare–”
he cuts you off with a groan, pushing you onto the couch in the corner of his studio. “can’t go a day without cock, huh?” as you shake your head vigorously at the question, he simply chuckles. “well, i’ll help you out, sweet girl, and how about this– i fuck you and bust a fuckin’ load so deep inside, you’ll feel me for days? you want that, pretty baby?”
you let out a gaspy whine, arching your back off the plush sofa for even the slightest touch. “pleasepleaseplease, wan’ it,”
he smirks before complying with your every need, making you cum countless times within the time you spent impaled on his thick cock. he called you every name in the book from his good girl to his needy bitch, all the while, you were a drooling, overstimulated mess agreeing to everything slipping from his mouth. and when he came, his cock nestled deep inside your pussy, angry red tip kissing your cervix, he swore he’d never spend a day without you again.
JUNG HOSEOK ࿐
“my baby is such a fucking needy cumslut,” hoseok laughs condescendingly, hand moving to strike your wiggling ass.
you had asked him to cum in you as soon as he’d walked into the door of your home. little did you know, hoseok had a not-so-good day and that bright smile you were used to was replaced with a pent-up scowl. 
now you’re letting him use you, and god, does it feel good.
you yelp at the feeling of his hand, moaning out, “yours! your cumslut!” you arch your back, raising your ass up for him and making his cock move deeper into you. every rigid vein feels delicious and you can’t help but feel close to cumming. 
he coos, “that’s right, doll, all mine to fucking use and dump my cum in, hmm?’ his hand squeezes the flesh of your ass and he groans loudly. “so perfect, pussy’s all mine,”
“god, yes hoseok! use me!” you cry desperately both at his words and the tightening knot you feel deep in your tummy. “‘m g-gonna cummm!” 
your arms fail you and you fall into your pillow, soaking it with your tears and drool as you cry and scream over the powerful orgasm.
“that’s it, doll, gonna give you what you want,” he gasps, stilling at the hilt and letting himself go. his cock twitches and spurts thick ropes of cum over your velvet walls. “fuckkk,”
the feeling of his hot cum flooding your insides makes you gasp and weakly clamp around him, “feels so good, baby!” you whine, lifting your head from the ruined pillow. 
he hums, rubbing your red ass with a big smile on his face. he’s quick to pull out and clean you up just to pepper kisses all over your face and whisper soft praises in your ear for the rest of the night.
PARK JIMIN ࿐
jimin is terrified. no matter how many times you reassure him that you’re on birth control and can’t get pregnant, there’s still a voice in the back of his mind that yells ‘no!’ when you ask him to cum in you. 
you moan as jimin grunts into your neck. “baby, please!” you beg, “wanna feel it, wanna feel your cum! pleaseeee!” you’re crying now, desperate tears slipping from your eyes.
he moans at the sound of your cries, cock twitching uncontrollably inside of you. “y-you know i-i can’t, angel,” he stutters, growing weaker with your begs. 
you whine, a mantra of pleads slipping past your kiss-swollen lips as he thrusts into you. you card your fingers through your hair, gripping it tightly and tugging on it to pull him out of your neck. he looks at you with eyes filled with lust, yours filled with pure need. 
“m’ gonna pull out–” he starts but is cut off by your protest. 
“no!” you cry, wrapping your legs around his waist. you hold him against you tightly, forcing him to stay nestled inside of you. jimin’s eyes lose their darkness, instead filling with panic. 
“let go, love,” he pants out. “c-can’t hold it,”
you shake your head vigorously, practically fucking yourself onto his cock. “let go f’me, minnie. fill me up, wanna feel you close to me. wanna feel your hot cum, baby, please!”
“Y/N–”
you gasp when it happens. jimin’s hot cum filling you to the brim as he twitches and gasps and moans over your body. the mere feeling has you cumming all over him, coating him with your sticky arousal. 
jimin’s head fogs when he finally slips out, watching your mixed cum drip ooze out of your cunt. he can’t help but shiver watching the scene unfold– you look so sexy covered in sweat and spilling the cum you begged for with that fucked out expression. suddenly, he feels addicted to the sight, feeling the need to fuck his cum into you again and again and again. 
“i’m sorry…” you whimper out. 
he shakes his head, still breathless. “maybe you can make it up to me?”
“how?”
“lemme fill you up again,”
KIM TAEHYUNG ࿐
taehyung’s carnal desire to breed you is almost scary. you’re fully aware of his intense baby fever, but you’ve had to beg him not to cum in you. you use the same excuse, “we’re not ready,” or “just a bit longer,” and taehyung respects that, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still crave it.
but when you are ready on one random day, you whisper aloud while his arm is wrapped around your waist and his hand playing with the elastic band of your panties. “tae… think m’ ready…”
taehyung knows exactly what that means, so he’s quick to move and it isn’t until he’s made you cum countless times that you realize you’ve made a mistake. 
“fuckfuckfuck, gonna make you the prettiest mama, swear to god,” he moans, thrusting into your sloppy pussy. a white ring of your arousal coloring the base of his cock. “angel, m’ gonna fill you up, cums gonna take, promise,” he babbles and you can’t help the overstimulated whines and cries that slip from your mouth. 
“tae!” is all you can say through broken moans, but he needs more— craves more.
“t-tell me you wan’ it,” he slurs, thumb moving to your clit. “tell me you wanna have my fuckin’ baby, tell me you wanna be cute n’ round for me,”
“please! fuck, please tae, need it,” you beg, arching your back into his touch. “need you to fuck a baby into me— oh!” 
you’re cut off by the feeling of his hot cum flooding your womb and taehyung’s broken moans. as both of you shake and cry together, tae can’t help but let out a breathy laugh at the idea of finally starting a family.
“fuck, i love you…” he mumbles against your swollen lip. “gonna take good care of you and our baby, my love, i promise.”
JEON JUNGKOOK ࿐
you and jungkook are experimentalists. the two of you loved and trusted one another more than anything else. you’ve almost tried everything, from orgasm denial to fucking in a public park, but you’ve always been safe. always wearing a condom, and if you’re out, he’s opting to fuck your mouth or tits, staying as far away as he can from your illicit pussy.
your best friend had scared you, though. “Y/N, you know it feels better for guys without the condom? he’ll leave you if you keep making him wear one,” she told you.
you know jungkook, though, and he’d never do that… right? If you were so sure, the thoughts wouldn’t be swirling around in your head while you’re right under him. 
“been needing to fuck you so bad all day,” he moans into your neck, hungrily nipping at the sensitive skin, cock thrusting in and out of you. you hum, mindlessly, and jungkook stops, noticing your lack of response. “is something wrong?” he asks with furrowed eyebrows.
you sigh, “do you wanna fuck me raw?”
his cock twitches inside you and you have your answer. he chokes, breath caught in his throat, “w-what?! i-is this a trick question?”
“no, it’s a yes or no question: do you or do you not wanna fuck me raw?”
“i-i mean, i do eventu–”
you cut him off, “okay, fuck me raw then, koo,” you say, reaching between your legs to pull his cock out of you, peeling the flimsy rubber off and tossing it to the side. you watch as he gawks, jaw dropped and eyes wide. “c’mon, baby, fuck me. wanna feel you,” 
he groans at your words, taking hold of his member and aligning it with your sticky hole. he takes a breath, looking up for reassurance before pushing into you.
And holy fuck, you understand why guys love this. you can feel every single rigid vein on his cock deliciously as you trap him in your heat. 
jungkook cries a high-pitched string of curse words as he bottoms out, “b-baby, oh fuck! baby, you feel so– oh, god… i won’t last lo-oong,” he moans as you tighten around him.
you realize how addicting the feeling is, whimpering out, “cum inside my pussy, koo,” without thinking. you’ll worry about it later as you do your other issues. “please, baby, s’ gonna feel so good, just let go inside,”
something in him snaps, grabbing you by the hips and fucking into you like an animal. his speed is quick and uncoordinated. it makes you feel like a flailing rag doll, but fuck, you feel so good. 
“c-cumming!” he cries, gritting the word through his teeth as you feel your velvet walls being sprayed with his thick, hot cum. “oh, baby, fuck. you’re so fucking dirty… so hot,” he whines. 
you mewl, basking in the feeling of his cum, “no more condoms,” you pant, flipping him over for a round two. “let’s go again,”
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dreamescapeswriting · 7 months
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BTS Reaction || He's Whiney About The Nickname You Have Him Under
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⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - August 2023
⤜MASTERLIST
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - August 2023
⤜MASTERLIST
SEOKJIN: 
Ever since the boys had teased Jin last week about the nickname in his phone he'd begged you to change it so you did. Maybe it was petty of you but that's what you did, you changed it back to his full name even if you didn't want to. 
"Why?" He suddenly called out as he stared down at your phone, you were just texting the group chat when he saw his name popping up on the screen.
"Why what?" You mumbled looking at him a little confused as to what was upsetting him.
"Why is my name so cold in your phone?" You glanced down at it, it was simply his full name with no emoji just like he asked you to do.
"What are you talking about? You said you didn't like the nickname." You shrugged your shoulders not seeming bothered by any of this since he'd been the one to tell you to change his nickname from what it was. Besides, "cutie pie" wasn't even that bad, you did find him cute so what was the issue with it?
"I was lying." He whined a little, sitting beside you on the sofa and trying to take your phone from you but you smirked taking it away from him. 
"Well, it didn't seem like it." You mumbled at him.
"Baby, please," He whined, begging a little as he cuddled into your side,
"Please change it back," He looked at you and you bit down on your tongue trying not to smirk at him.
"You said you didn't like the nickname I gave you,"
"Cutie pie was great, please change it back." He whimpered a little and watched as you slowly changed his name back to "cutie pie" with a pie emoji at the end.
"Better?" You smirked before he nodded, cuddling into your side.
"Much." He whispered before kissing your cheek.
YOONGI: 
Last week Yoongi had made a fuss over the name he was saved as in your phone so you'd changed it back to "Yoongi" since he clearly didn't want to be saved as something cute anymore. You don't even remember why he'd been so against the nickname in the first place.
"Can I use your phone to call mine? I can't find it." He asked as he looked around the living room, he couldn't find his phone anywhere and he was beginning to worry a little.
"Sure, you know the password." You mumbled as you continued to look under the sofa for his phone. Yoongi unlocked your phone before letting out a small whine.
"What the fuck is that?"
"What?! A spider?!" You screamed out, jumping up from the floor and onto the sofa in case the spider was around you somewhere but you turned to look at your boyfriend who was still holding your phone.
"What happened to my nickname?" You frowned a little and stared at him, he was the one that told you to change the name and now he was whining about it?
"You said you didn't like "cuddle buddy" anymore so I changed it." You shrugged, getting down from the sofa and looking at the phone as he silently changed it back to the nickname that it was before.
"I thought you hated it."
"I did but I don't like it being just my name." He mumbled calling his phone so the two of you could go back to hunting for it.
HOSEOK: 
"Hobi bear," Yoongi teased Hoseok for the sixth time in the span of 30 minutes but Hoseok seemed to have no reaction to it anymore. The boys had discovered Hoseok's nickname earlier in the night and Hobi had begged you to change it to something other than that so he wouldn't be so embarrassed about it.
"It's not his name in my phone anymore." You shrugged at him and Hoseok stared at you completely dumbfounded.
"What?! Why?!" He called out, his voice cracking ever so slightly as he stared at you.
"Because you told me I needed to change it," You frowned clearly not understanding why he was suddenly so upset about you changing his name back to something normal.
"But that was just to impress the boys. Put it back," He told you as you took your phone out to show him
"You said you didn't like it, so I changed it to "Hoseok,"" You shrugged your shoulders but he was already clicking on "edit" on his name so he could change it back to his nickname, the boys all smirking as they listened to him whining at you.
"And I lied. Please...Please put it back," He begged as you nodded, smirking as you changed his name back to "hobi bear" with a giant smile on your face.
NAMJOON: 
Namjoon wasn't the biggest fan of nicknames for one another so when he'd seen his name saved as "Joon-bug" last week he'd gotten a little moody about it but nothing compared to this. His name was flashed up on your screen and he suddenly felt a pit in the bottom of his stomach. It felt so cold to just see his name on the screen instead of the cute nickname he'd gotten used to over the years,
"Will you change my name back?" He questioned, handing you your phone as you frowned at him.
"What?" You laughed softly taking your phone from his grasp and unlocking it to go onto his contact information.
"My name put my nickname back." He whined out, looking at you as he cuddled into your arms making you giggle a little.
"You can call me it whenever you want, you can name me it, but please...Put it back," He whined, it was rare when you saw whiney Joon come out and you were loving every second of it.
JIMIN: 
"You need to make up your mind," You laughed at Jimin as he followed you around the house. He'd just discovered that you'd changed his contact name to his actual name in your phone and he was acting like a baby about it. As if he wasn't the one to kick off just last week that he hated the name you had him saved as.
"Just change it back," He whined at you, his full whiney state coming out as he watched you closely. You slowly turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow at him,
"You told me you hated it because it sounded like that cricket from the Disney film." You reminded him of what he'd said last week and his eyes saddened a little,
"But it was your nickname for me and I want it back," He pouted as you shook your head at him. You'd nicknamed him "Jiminnie" in your phone because it wasn just something cute and adorable but after what he said the other day you weren't so sure on it anymore.
"I love the nickname please put it back," He begged, holding onto your hand as you let out a small sigh and nodded. 
"I'll do it later," You promised before kissing his cheek softly.
TAEHYUNG: 
The boys had teased Taehyung religiously all week long for the nickname you'd had him saved under in your phone and now they were continuing to do so as you all sat down for a movie night.
"He's not saved as "my alien" anymore," You told them plainly, after the way Tae had reacted last week you'd been quick to change it back to his name.
"What? I'm not? Why?!" He asked suddenly defensive, in truth, the boys didn't bother him with their teasing but knowing you'd changed his nickname to something else was beginning to bug him. How could you change it?! It was something you liked to call him.
"Because the boys teased you." You reminded him but he shook his head at you, reaching for your phone and giving it to you.
"Please change it back, please," He whined out making the boys all chuckle around you as he whined and begged for you to change his name back to what it usually was.
"My alien," You giggled as the boys all began to tease him again but this time Taehyung didn't even care, he just cuddled close to you.
JUNGKOOK:
"What the fuck?" You heard Jungkook grumble from beside you, You looked away from the movie on the TV and turned to stare at your boyfriend.
"What the fuck is this?" He put your phone down on your lap and you stared down at the screen with his contact information displayed.
"Your phone number?"
"Where's the nickname gone!?" He questioned, pausing the movie and staring at you as he awaited your answer but you didn't know what to tell him. Just last week he'd been asking you to change it to something other than his nickname,
"You told me you hated it."
"No. I just said I didn't like it." He shrugged his shoulders, he didn't like it but it didn't mean he wanted you to change it.
"Boo-thang, was our thing." He grumbled, a blush settling on his cheeks as he tried not to get embarrassed about it.
"I'll change it back for you then," You smirked as he wrapped his arms around you while you changed his name back 
Tagline: @chiisaiblog @tinyoonsblog @sw33tnight @taestannie @cherrybubblesandvodka @acciocriativity @mitzwinchester @heyjiminnie @halesandy @jin-from-the-block @aerastus @namjooningelsewhere @psychosupernatural @lyoongx @royallyjjk @critssq @lenfilms @btsiguess-kpop @meowmeowisdaname @imafivestarkpopstan @laylasbunbunny @ratherbfangirling @backintomykpopphaseagain @choisoorin
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i-am-baechu · 1 month
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♡ Summary: Y/N is just an average student at Seoul University but what she doesn’t know is that the person she’s been watching YouTube videos, streams, and having a crush on is the university heartthrob!
♡ Pairing: Gamer! Heartthrob! Jungkook x reader 
♡ Rating: Explicit (18+) 
♡ Genre: Fluff, romance, smut, enemies to lovers, secret identity, fan girl, pride and prejudice inspired kind of and angst 
♡ Author's note: I think this might be a mini-series! I was also sick :( so sorry for the lack of response/posting!
“Did you see Jungkook!?”
“Of course I did! He was on the Calvin Klein TikTok page. He knew what he was doing.”
L/N Y/N raised her eyebrow at the two girls and continued her way to her class through the hall. She knew Jungkook was popular and it did help that his whole family was practically famous but to be a Calvin Klein model? That’s wild. 
Y/N is a middle-class student who entered Seoul University with a scholarship known as the Kim Family Scholarship. The brightest and the most talented are selected from all the schools in Korea. She wasn’t at the top of her classes nor did she play any instrument. She was just a simple person, so you can imagine her shocked face when she got it. 
Even now Y/N wasn’t spectacular. She got good grades but there was always someone else doing better. She participated in some sports but she wouldn’t call herself an athlete. She would never become one of the elite students and she was okay with that. Too much pressure.
Jeon Jungkook was the opposite of her. One of the top students (ranking in the legendary seven) and the top athlete, he was the guy that everyone wanted and hated. Yes, he was handsome and intelligent but Y/N didn’t really care about that, he was incredibly rude and selfish. She watched him break up with so many girls and had so many rendezvous around the campus that she wondered if any place was clean. A headache really.
She opened the door to her class and smiled when she saw her friend, Lee Taeyong, waiting for her at the back. Taeyong has been her friend since she was in diapers. They’ve been through everything, Y/N’s first period, Taeyong's ankle surgery, and first heart breaks. Best friends forever.
“Tae!” 
He looked up from his notebook and waved at her, “Y/N.”
She ran towards him unaware of the whispers amongst a certain group of people. She went through her bag and handed him a breakfast sandwich, “Mom made breakfast for us. I also have orange juice.”
Taeyong  pushed his glasses and smiled, “Thanks, my mom was wondering if you were coming over tonight?”
She happily nodded and sat down next to him, “of course I am.”
They continued to talk as Jungkook watched with his full attention. Taehyung let out a small laugh and playfully slapped his shoulder, “Why are you staring at Y/N?”
Jungkook shrugged his shoulders and looked at him, “She doesn’t belong here.”
“Dude, why are you always on her? She doesn’t even speak to you.”
“She doesn’t take school seriously-”
Namjoon sighed and closed his book, “She passed every test in all her subjects. What more do you want for her?” 
“Not to be her.”
After class, Y/N and Taeyong made their way to the cafeteria. All the students were talking about the legendary seven but all Y/N wanted was her ramen.
The legendary seven, Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and shit head (Jeon Jungkook). The top students and the wealthiest, they always mean trouble. She never understood how everyone can talk about them when they have their own problems. She didn’t see a point, she would never have a conversation with them so why would she talk about them? There’s nothing she could add to the conversation. 
Taeyong handed her chopsticks and she smiled, “I’m so excited. I love their ramen.”
“You do know it’s just a convenience store ramen.”
“But it’s free.”
She bowed her head at the worker and happily looked at her ramen making Taeyong laugh, “I want my kimchi fried rice.”
“Share half?”
“If you share half of your ramen.”
“Okay!~.”
The group entered and Jungkook sneered at Y/N who was eating her ramen cheerfully. He glanced at Taeyong who whipped her mouth and he scoffed. Jimin raised his eyebrow and looked at what he was looking at, “what now?”
“Nothing.”
Y/N looked up and saw Jungkook looking at her. She raised her eyebrow and looked behind her to see if there was someone else, but nothing. She looked back and saw Jungkook talking to his friends. She blinked her eyes a couple of times but she just shrugged her shoulders.
“Y/N!~” 
She waved her hand when she saw Kim Yerim running towards her. Yerim or Yeri to her close friends, was Y/N’s other best friend. Yeri met Y/N during high school by accident. Yeri wanted the same drink that Y/N had but sadly it was the last one. Y/N being Y/N bought the drink and gave it to her. Since then, Yeri has been with Y/N. 
Yeri was one of the wealthier students at school. She wasn’t as wealthy as Jungkook but she was wealthy enough to have a good future. Yeri would always make sure Y/N would have new clothes and bags so no one picked on her. Yeri would always defend Y/N against the others, it was sweet but she could take care of herself. 
“Yerrrriii~”
Yeri sat in front of Y/N with her tray, “Did you see the video?”
“Did Kook upload? Did I miss it?”
Yeri let out a small laugh and took her phone, “This is why you should have notifications on for him.” 
She rolled her eyes and saw that he was playing Lethal Company. She smiled to herself and watched for a few seconds before pushing Yeri’s hand, “I need to watch it when I go home.”  
 Taeyong let out a small chuckle, “Don’t you have homework?”
“I can watch and do it…” 
“Not if you get distracted with his voice.”
“Yeriii, leave me alone.” 
Kook is a famous YouTuber/streamer. He had millions of followers and it wasn’t just because he was good at games. So many love him because of his comedy and just his personality in general. Y/N came across him by accident one day and his voice caught her. It was clear that he changed his voice slightly but it still gave her butterflies.
“I was wondering, would you come to a party with me? It’s next week.”
Y/N brother her chopsticks down and raised her eyebrow, "Who's the host?”
“Jimin.”
Y/N scoffed and shook her head, “I don’t want to be there with them. All they do is stare at me and make me feel unwanted here. It’s weird.”
“Really? They're usually really kind…well except Jungkook.”
“Don’t get me started on that shithead. Always glaring at me, what does he have against me? I literally have never talked to him. It’s annoying.” 
Taeyong rubbed her shoulder gently, “don’t get worked up over him. He’s not worth it.”
“I know…it’s just annoying.”
Yeri glanced at Jungkook and the others with a nod, “I would be annoyed. I won’t go then, they don’t deserve our presence.” 
“Irene is having a party. She invited me, we can go to that one.”
Taeyong's eyes lightened up at this and looked at Y/N, “Why didn’t you tell me this!?”
“Because…I wanted it to be a surprise.”
Yeri let out a laugh and pointed her chopsticks at him, “He just wants to see Seulgi.”
“So-So what.”
“It's cute, Tae.” 
Jungkook was on his phone until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned his head and saw Rosé looking at him with a smile. He raised his eyebrow and put his phone down, “What do you want?”
“Is that how you treat your girlfriend?”
“Ex-girlfriend. Now what do you want?”
Rosé sighed and leaned back on the bench, “I need you to be my fake boyfriend.”
Jungkook let out a laugh, he couldn’t believe what he just heard, “For fucking what?”
“Tonight, I’m going to my cousin's dinner.”
“Why me?”
“Because I told my aunt we were dating and if she finds out I broke up with you she will be sad. I hate seeing her sad.” 
Jungkook turned his attention to her and crossed his arms over his chest, “First of all, I broke up with you. Second of all, since when are you nice?”
Rosé rolled her eyes and stood up from the table, “Can you just do this for me?”
“Fine. Only once.” 
“Trust me, it’s only going to be once. I can’t stand you.”
Jungkook let out a snicker and nodded his head, “Right back at you, cheater.”
“It’s your fault I cheated on you. You treated me like shit, what did you expect?”
“I treated you like shit? I gave you everything Rosé-”
“If you guys are gonna fight, can you do it outside?”
Jungkook turned to see Yoongi giving him a stern look, making him sigh. He turned to Rosé with an irritated look, “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Ditto.”
Jungkook glared at her until she was out of sight. He turned back and Jin shook his head, “How did you date that?”
“It was a fling…”
Taehyung shook his head and finished off his kimchi, “No you liked her, a lot. Why didn’t you tell us she cheated?”
“It wasn’t worth talking about it…I just didn’t want to talk about her.” 
Jimin nodded his head and gave him a soft smile, “At least you're not together.”
“Yeah…” he glanced at Y/N who was now talking to Jaehyun. His eyes widened to see his friend talking to her. They looked like they were having a good conversation because they kept laughing. Jungkook looked back at Hoseok, “When did they become friends?”
Hoseok glanced at Y/N and then back at Jungkook, “I know Jae has been talking to her since high school.” 
“High school?”
“Yeah, they were friends because of Taeyong. Why?”
“Just wondering.”
“Jae, can you tell your friend to stop staring at me? It’s annoying.”
Jaehyun turned around and saw Jungkook looking at them. He waved at him and looked back at Y/N, “He’s just weird like that.”
“Eh, are we playing tonight?”
“Yeah, after dinner at Tae’s?”
“Yes sir.”
“See you tonight.”
Y/N watched him leave and she looked back to Yeri who had a smirk, “What?”
“When are you going to fuck him?”
Y/N’s turned into disgust and shook her head, “You're crazy.”  
.*・。゚☆゚.*・。゚
“Tae, you didn’t tell me your cousin is coming.” 
Y/N let out a loud groan as she dropped on Taeyong’s bed. He sighed and put his book back on his shelf, “Mom just told me she was coming and apparently she's coming with her boyfriend.” 
“She has a boyfriend? I didn’t know that was possible for her.” 
Taeyong let out a laugh and shook his head, “People can change.” 
“I bet he was rich. You know the richer they are, the more likely they want a girl on their arm.” 
Footsteps were coming up the stairs and Y/N to see Taeyong’s mom looking at her with a smile, “Y/N, did you hear who’s coming?” 
Y/N sat up and nodded her head, “Rosé and her boyfriend.” 
Mrs. Lee nodded her head and clapped her hands excitedly, “I’m so happy she found someone.” 
Taeyong nodded his head and sat in his computer chair, “I’m sure he treats her right.” 
“She told me that he’s from a wealthy family.” 
Y/N glanced at Taeyong giving him a “I told you so” look. She looked at Mrs. Lee, nodding her head with a small smirk, “That’s good for her future. I’m sure she’ll have everything figured out.” 
“I sure hope so. Come down and get ready for dinner.” 
They watched the older woman leave the room with a skip in her step and Y/N looked at Taeyong with a frown, “Rosé...didn’t she break up with her boyfriend.”
Taeyong nodded his head and rubbed his forehead, “Knowing Rosé, she has a scheme.”
Y/N shook her head and looked at the ceiling with a frown, “Your mom doesn’t deserve lies.” 
“Trust me, I know. Let’s go and keep her happy.” 
They made their way downstairs but Y/N stopped in the middle when she met with familiar brown eyes. Jungkook looked at her with surprised eyes and they continued to stare at each other but neither of them said a word. He hated her for whatever reason and she hated him for being a shithead. What’s there to say? She glanced down and saw Rosé holding his hand, so this is the boyfriend. She continued to walk down the stairs and walked past Jungkook who continued to stare at her. 
Jungkook was surprised to see her but he didn’t know why, she was always around Taeyong. Tonight seemed different with her appearance. She looked more elegant with her hair down (she only ever wore ponytails or buns to school) and had a black dress on. She was more poised, something that surprised him. He watched her lean towards Taeyong and they both let out a quiet laugh. He wondered if she would ever laugh with him. He shook his head and glanced at Rosé, “Aunty, this is my boyfriend, Jungkook.” 
Y/N bit her lip from laughing because it was clear that he was uncomfortable. With the way he visibly stiffened at her touch, he didn’t want to be here. Y/N glanced at Jungkook who was looking at Mrs. Lee. She rolled her eyes and turned to walk towards the kitchen with Taeyong next to her, He probably made her think he liked her and wasn’t expecting to get this far with her. How typical of him. 
Jungkook watched the two leave but he couldn’t help but feel judged by them. Every time Y/N looked at him she would lean towards Taeyong. How could she be judgemental? She’s not the same status, why would she judge him? It should be the opposite, that’s what his mother always taught him. “Judge those who are lower than you and question why they are so low? The answer is they don’t have a good work ethic.” 
When Mrs. Lee turned to walk towards the kitchen, Jungkook ripped his hand out of Rosé’s hand, “I told you don’t touch me.”
“That’s not what you were saying before. My aunty looked happy, that’s good.” The two walked towards the rest of them and Rosé glanced at Jungkook, “Also, stop staring at Y/N. I know she’s pretty but now is not the time.”
Jungkook scoffed and glanced at Y/N and then at Rosé, “What?” 
“Y/N, she’s pretty.”
“Anyone can be pretty but not everybody can be beautiful.” 
Rosé raised her eyebrow and grabbed Jungkook’s hand as she looked up at him, “Are you saying she's pretty?” 
“Let’s sit.” 
Y/N sat next to Taeyong as she ate her chicken. She glared at Jungkook, if people wanted to talk amongst themselves they should do quieter, “Anyone can be pretty.” Who is he? The mirror from Snow White. She wishes he was because then she could just break the glass and be done with it. She stopped listening after that part, if she continued to listen to him she would lose more brain cells. Her phone vibrated in her dress pocket and when no one was paying attention, she brought out her phone. 
Did you see it? Kook is hosting a special event! All you have to do is comment on his post and send him a DM and the lucky winner gets to play with him! 
Y/N’s eyes widened and she tapped Taeyong’s thigh. He looked at her with a curious look and she glanced down. Taeyong eyes landed on the message and he looked back at her, “Are you going to do it”
“Of course I am. This is the only chance I get to speak to him.” 
“I hope you win then.”
“Don’t tell Yeri that.” 
Jungkook was annoyed that Rosé kept touching him but he knew had to be an actor tonight. He smiled at Mrs. Lee who placed more rice on his plate, “Rosé told me that you guys met at the library. That’s really sweet.” 
Lie. They met during a party and he fucked her in a bathroom. Not sweet but he knew Rosé was a good liar. He looked at Mrs. Lee and nodded his head, “She couldn’t reach for a book, I was there to help her.” 
Y/N let out a small laugh and glanced at Taeyong, “He really sucks at lying.” 
“Don’t ruin our show.” 
“You are tall, do you play basketball?”
Jungkook nodded his head and rubbed the back of his neck, “I play basketball, soccer, and baseball.” 
“Oh, wow. All-rounder, good pick Rosé.” 
“Thank you, Aunty.” 
After dinner, Y/N was the first to leave. She was walking out when she saw Jungkook and Rosé come out of the side door. Her eyes widened and she hid in a bush, curiosity was going to kill the cat tonight. 
“Thanks, Jungkook.”
Jungkook shrugged his shoulders and pulled her hand out of his, “No problem. Now what do I get out of this?” 
Rosé sighed and rolled her eyes, “What do you want?”
“I want you to leave me alone.”
Rosé let out a small laugh and nodded her head, “Don’t ask me twice. After how you treated me.” 
Y/N nodded her head and looked at Jungkook, I knew it.
Jungkook scoffed, “You can continue thinking that. I have to go home.” Jungkook turned around and started walking towards his car but stopped when he heard, “Don’t forget what I said about Y/N.”
Jungkook glanced at Rosé and glared at her, “It’s my life. Stay out of it.” 
“Anyone can become beautiful if you give them the chance too.” 
Jungkook unlocked his car and got into it. Y/N watched him drive away and she raised her eyebrow, What the hell was that about? 
Yeri and Y/N sat on Taeyong’s bed with nervous looks. Y/N glanced at her phone and then at Yeri, “You do it first.” 
Yeri shook her head and pointed at Y/N, “You’ve been his fan longer. You do it first.” 
Taeyong rolled his eyes and turned towards them with his book in his lap now, “Just do it. The worst thing that can happen is that he doesn’t respond.” 
“Don’t say that because that means it's going to happen!” 
Y/N sighed but her phone vibrated and she raised her eyebrow, “Jaehyun?” She opened her messages and she smiled to herself. 
You cheated last night, I want a rematch 
It’s not my fault you're a loser! ;p 
I’m the one that showed you the game >:( 
Fine, rematch tonight 
I’ll win this time!!! 
“Are you texting Jaehyun?”
Y/N looked over her phone and nodded her head at Yeri, “Stop with that look. We’re friends.” 
“You can be so much more.”
“Taeyong, can you-”
“No, Y/N. You do it.” 
Y/N sighed and clicked on Kook’s Instagram. He doesn’t really post and when he does it’s just his computer setup or even just his day. There were no pictures of himself but Y/N knows he’s handsome, he has to be. With the way he laughs in his streams and how he goes to cafes, he’s literally the perfect guy for her. 
She sighed and looked up at Yeri, “I’m going to do it.” 
“You're bluffing!” 
“No, I’m doing it. Let’s get it over with.” Y/N clicked on the most recent picture and liked it (something she doesn’t do because it makes her feel shy). Then she clicked the small bubble sending a message, “Event...sorry this is so awkward. Thank you for posting, it makes me happy : ) .” 
Y/N tossed her phone and hid her face in her hands, “I did it! But omg I feel like I’m going to get sick. Yeri you do it.” 
“Oh, I did it yesterday.” 
Y/N removed her hands and glared at her, “We were supposed to do it together!” 
“I lied.” 
Jungkook was in his gamer room and was staring at his DM’s. It wasn’t until his eyes landed on a familiar face. He felt weird but he clicked on her profile ignoring his heart beating faster. “Y/N_Cupcake. How interesting.” He went through her profile and he felt a smile appear but he quickly shook his head. Stop feeling that way towards her. 
Y/N went to get a book from the Library when she heard snickers behind her. She turned her head to see it was Jessica and her goons. They would always bully the scholarship kids because why not? They were sad and just looking for an outlet. She rolled her eyes and continued making her way to the tall building. She ignored the footsteps but couldn’t anymore when one of them grabbed her backpack, pulling her back. 
“Going to the library because you can’t afford the books.” 
“We can easily get the books, makes things easier.”
Y/N nodded her head and gave them a blank look, “I’m sure it does. Having access to books makes things easier, what a privilege you have.” 
Jessica raised her eyebrow and poked at Y/N’s shoulder harshly, “Are you pestering me?” 
“I’m simply agreeing with you. That’s what you want, right? For me to know that you're richer and how I’m beneath you. I’m giving you the attention that is clear you are craving for.” 
“What did-”
“Jessica, at least she knows how to read. You should read the books you can easily buy.” 
Y/N looked over Jessica’s shoulder and she raised her eyebrow to see Jungkook. He stood there in his simple black shirt and his tattoos on full display. She glanced at Jessica and pushed her finger away, “Now, I have to go read. I hope you enjoy the books that you can purchase while I have to go to the dusty library. Oh, I hope there’s someone to save me from the dust.” 
Y/N turned around and started walking away as Jungkook couldn’t help himself to let out a small chuckle. Jungkook looked at Jessica and smirked, “You heard her, she needs someone to save her.” 
He walked past the girls leaving Jessica in shock. She turned towards her friends with a shocked face, “Is Jungkook dating her!?” 
“I’m not sure, the last I heard he was dating Rosé.”
“She's a homewrecker then. Girls, we have a busy day ahead of us.” 
Y/N heard footsteps and turned around with an annoyed look expecting to see Jessica but it turned to confusion, “Jungkook? Are you following me?” 
“I-I wouldn’t say following you.” 
“Then what do you call this? I have never seen you in the library but today of all days you're going.” 
Jungkook nodded his head and put his hands in his pocket, “It’s quiet.”
“Especially when you're alone.” 
“Yes, I agree.” 
She glanced to the side and gave him a small smirk, “Even those who aren’t beautiful would agree with you.” Jungkook's face fell as she let out a small laugh and she turned around but before she left his sight she glanced at him over her shoulder, “When you're talking about someone and they're in the room, next time, be quieter.” 
Y/N continued to walk and she smiled to herself when she heard no footsteps behind her. She continued to walk away as Jungkook watched her leave his sight. He let out a laugh and shook his head, “Full of surprises...” 
Y/N entered the library and she waved at Jaehyun. She happily walked up to him and glanced at all the books, “Big test coming up?” 
“It’s all for biology.”
She looked between the books and at him with a confused look, “I thought you owned these books already? Why are you at the library?” 
“To have the chance to be in your presence.” 
She let out a small laugh and shook her head, “Shut up. Did your brother take them?” 
“Yeah, so here I am. What are you here for?” 
“I need to do some research for my literature class.” 
“Boring.”
Y/N glanced out the window and she watched Jungkook talking to Taehynug. She looked back at Jaehyun with an interested look, “Your friends with Jungkook?” 
“I wouldn’t say friends...acquaintances really.”
She raised her eyebrow at this, “Acquaintances? You're a good guy, how could anyone be acquainted with you?” 
Jaehyun let out a small laugh, “He just doesn’t like me because I was talking to Rosé.”
“Talking?”
“I had a project with Rosé and he didn’t like that I was talking to her. He even punched me.” 
Y/N scoffed at this and shook her head, “He punched you for trying to do homework. How...actually it's exactly how I pictured him to be.” 
Jaehyun shrugged his shoulders and let out a laugh, “It’s nothing really. Can I sit with you?”
“As long as you know the ques to talk to me, then yes.”
“Thank god I do then.” 
.*・。゚☆゚.*・。゚
Parties, it wasn’t Y/N’s favorite thing in the world but it did help her get out of the house and out of work. Of course, she loved helping her parents make fried rice but sometimes you just want to get drunk. She smiled at Irene who returned one, Irene was the pretty senior that all the girls wanted to date. Y/N can see why, she was kind and awkward. Adorable. 
Y/N sat on the couch with Taeyong who was drinking his heart out. She frowned at this and rubbed his knee, “I’m sure she's coming. Just be patient.” 
“It’s been too long.”
“Tae, it’s literally been thirty minutes. She’s coming, be patient.” 
Taeyong frowned at her and glanced at her, “Be nice to me.” 
“I am, I’m reassuring you. Liquid courage can help you.” 
Y/N smiled at him and stood up from the couch to get some water. As she made her way, Yeri grabbed her arm, “Did you hear?” 
“What is it?” 
“Jessica has been running her mouth about you.”
Y/N raised her eyebrow and let out a snicker, “About what? My boring life is exciting for her?” 
“It’s not boring. It’s comfortable. She’s saying that you're a homewrecker but she won’t say who the couple is.” 
“Do people believe her? The only man I’ve been around is Taeyong and everyone knows he’s in love with Seulgi…we’ll expect for Seulgi.”
Yeri let out a laugh as Y/N smiled but it dropped when she saw who was in front of her. She glanced at Yeri but Yeri didn’t dare to look at her, “Jungkook? I thought you would be at Jimin’s.” 
Jungkook shrugged his shoulders and looked at Y/N, “I was at Jimin’s but I wanted to come by. Irene asked me to visit her more, so here I am.” 
Y/N nodded her head at him with a blank look, “Here you are.” 
“Y/N, would you like a drink?” 
Y/N glanced at Yeri who shrugged her shoulders. Y/N looked back at Jungkook but kept her blank stare, “Sure. I was already making my way there until you stopped me.” 
“I’m sorry for stopping you. Yeri are coming?”
Yeri shook her head and let go of Y/N, “I’m going to check on Taeyong. Bye~.” 
Y/N waved at Yeri and then looked back at Jungkook, “Irene has had four parties this month but you come today. Are you sure you're not following me?” 
“Would you be flatter?”
“The opposite...let’s get a drink.” 
They walked through the crowd of people and Junkook placed his hand behind her back. She glanced at him over her shoulder but he kept looking straight. She didn’t push his hand away and she didn’t know why she didn’t. It was quiet between the two and she sighed to herself, “No small talk?” 
“What is there to talk about?” 
“I don’t know. You're the one that invited me to get a drink, shouldn’t you make small talk.” 
Jungkook handed her a cup of water and shrugged his shoulders, “What do you want to talk about?” 
“You can talk about the test we had in math or even lunch. Something.” 
“The math test was easy.” 
“It was.”
Y/N took a sip as Jungkook did the same, “Y/N, I saw you talking to Jaehyun.”
She raised her eyebrow and nodded her head, “Yes, I talk to him once in a while. Why does that bother you?”
“Jaehyun, be careful of him.”
Y/N let out a scoff and took a sip of her water, “Be careful? Shouldn’t I be careful of you?” 
“What do you mean?” 
“Jaehyun told me. He told me you punched him for talking to Rosé all because he wanted to do his project.” 
Jungkook raised his eyebrow and turned his whole body towards her. She looked up at him and felt like he was a tower next to her, “And you believe that?” 
“I have no reason not to. Jae would never lie to me.”
Jungkook leaned down until his nose touched hers, “There’s always more to the story. Don’t believe just one side.” 
She looked at his lip ring and then at his brown eyes, “Then tell the other side.” 
“Jungkook! Are you ready!?” 
They turned their heads to see Jimin looking at them with a raised eyebrow. Jungkook let out a small cough and gave her a look that Y/N couldn’t read, “You already passed judgment before knowing my side. Isn’t that wrong of you?” 
“It’s really hard not to when I know your character.” 
“Do you really know me?” 
Y/N’s face dropped and she looked away from his stare, “I know enough.” 
“Goodbye, Y/N.”
“Bye.” 
She felt him leave but she couldn’t rip her eyes off the white wall. She felt embarrassed to be called out like that. He was right but he makes it really hard to be nice. She glanced where he walked off towards her and saw his eyes were already on hers. She didn’t look away from his intense stare, instead, she encouraged it. 
It’s been a week since Jungkook talked to her and she was feeling uneasy. She hasn’t been talking to Jaehyun and her thoughts have been replaying. “Do you really know me?” He seemed hurt by her assumptions and she was surprised to see it. He was rude to a lot of people but here he was, hurt by her words. Who is she to hurt the rich and powerful Jungkook? It actually made her sick that she was called out for her actions. Ashamed...
Y/N shut off the stove and walked out in the front room of her parents' restaurant. She saw her mother reading a letter and she squinted her eyes, “Omma? What is that?” 
“It’s from the landlord...they want us to close the restaurant.” 
Y/N’s eyes widened and she shook her head, “What? We’ve been paying every month. How can-”
“Someone wants to buy the restaurant...Appa doesn’t have the money to outbid them.”
Y/N frowned and sat next to her mother, “We’ll figure this out. We always figure it out.” 
She heard the door open and she saw Jungkook standing there with his usual outfit. She glanced at her mother and kissed the side of her head. She stood up and went to greet him with a fake smile, “Welcome-”
“Y/N, I want to talk to you.” 
She glanced at her mother and then back at him, “Now is not the time...”
“It’s important.” 
“Jungkook-”
“Did you say Jungkook? As in Jeon Jungkook?”
Y/N turned around and nodded her head at her mother, “Yes, omma-”
“Why do you want this restaurant?”
Y/N's face broke and she turned her head slowly at him, “You're buying our restaurant?” 
Jungkook looked at Y/N and shook his head, “I-I had no idea it was yours.”
Y/N let out a forced laugh and shook her head, “You're so rich that you want to buy everything in Korea. Out of everything, you buy my home. Do you hate me so much? What have I done to you? Is this payback because I’m friendly with Jae?” 
“Y/N-”
“No...I don’t want to hear it from you. Actually, I don’t ever want to hear from you again. This whole time I felt ashamed for making judgments on you but they were all right. You are selfish, prideful, and just....I can’t even put into words how much I hate you right now. Get out.”
“Y/N, please listen-”
“Out. Now.” Jungkook nodded his head and took one final glance at Y/N before closing the door. She glared at the glass and shook her head, “Of course it was him...” 
She ran into her room and shut her door. Here she was feeling bad for Jungkook, what an idiot. She fell into her bed and turned on her phone to watch one of Kook’s videos, at least then she would be entertained and not sad. Anything to forget today. 
Jungkook slammed the door making Jin look up in worry, “Is everything okay?”
“My dad's buying Y/N restaurant…”
Yoongi raised his eyebrow and glanced at Jimin who shrugged his shoulders. He looked back at Jungkook with a confused look, “Why does it matter to you?”
“Because she hates me…I can’t have her hate me. Not her. Anyone but… her.”
Namjoon stood up and walked towards Jungkook. He placed his hand on his shoulder, “You need to be honest with her and with yourself.”
“Hyung, she hates me…it doesn’t matter how I feel.”
Hoseok stood up and gave him a soft smile, “Yes it does. You can still fix this.”
Jungkook looked at Hoseok and then back at Namjoon, “You’re right. I can fix this.” 
.*・。゚☆゚.*・。
“Y/N, I’m sorry for spreading these rumors.” 
Y/N looked at Taeyong who shrugged his shoulders. Y/N was in the library studying with Taeyong when Jessica came to her. Y/N was ready to fight back with whatever she had but it was the opposite, “Thank you?”
Jessica nodded her head and walked out leaving Y/N confused. She glanced down at the table and was confused. She looked at Taeyong with furrowed eyebrows, “Do you think she’s dying?” 
“Y/N, what?” 
“Well, why else would she apologize?” 
“Maybe she felt bad.”
Y/N let out a small chuckle and shook her head, “I don’t think so...It’s Jessica.” 
“That is true but maybe she saw her wrongs.” 
“Did you see Jungkook?”
“Of course I did...He looks so good at practice.” 
Y/N rolled her eyes and harshly closed her book, “He gets praised for being an asshole while I get my house stolen because of his selfish desires.” 
“Y/N, I’m sure everything has a reason.”
“Reason or not, he’s still an asshole. I have to go, your cousin wants me to go to a museum with her.” 
Taeyong raised his eyebrow and leaned back in his chair, “A museum? With Rosé?” 
“I was surprised too but she said she’ll pay for it and that caught my attention.” 
“What is she planning?” 
“I’ll go find out. I’ll text you later.” 
The museum had a special exhibit for the students. She had never been to this museum but since someone else was paying for it, it was time to get cultured. She saw Rosé looking at a piece of art and she awkwardly walked up to her. Rosé turned around and gave her a smile, “Y/N, you're early.” 
“I had to catch the bus, better early than late with city transportation.” 
Rosé let out a small laugh and nodded her head, “Well, let’s go look around.”
“Sure.” 
They entered the student pieces and Y/N tried her best to focus on the art. It was awkward with Rosé, there was something in the air and she couldn’t decipher what it was. It made her feel nervous and she hated feeling that. She landed on a picture, it was a silhouette of a woman reading in the sunlight with flowers all around. Even though you couldn’t see her face, you could see that she was relaxed and happy. She glanced down to see the name and her eyes widened a bit, In My Dreams by Jeon Jungkook. 
“He knows how to capture a moment doesn’t he...” 
She glanced at Rosé and then back at the picture, “You look relaxed.”
“That’s not me. Can you really not tell who that is?” 
Y/N looked at Rosé and shook her head, “It’s a silhouette. How am I supposed to know?” 
Rosé let out a laugh and shook her head, “It should be called mirror now that you're here.” 
Y/N looked at the picture and she tilted her head, “That can’t be me...Why is your boyfriend taking a picture of me? Is he a pervert?” 
Rosé sighed and glanced at the picture with a small smile, “He took this picture when we broke up...he was looking for his muse and there was you. Reading with the sunlight, it was perfect.” 
“Rosé, why am I here?” 
“Jae isn’t all good...”
Y/N scoffed and looked at Rosé with an annoyed look, “Did Jungkook put you up to this?” 
“No, I saw Jae talking to you and I was worried.” 
“Worried?” 
“Y/N, I cheated on Jungkook with Jae...he promised to love me and only me but Jae left me...”
Y/N frowned at this, “Does that mean Jungkook cheated on you?”
“In a way...there was always one person on his mind. It was never me, I should’ve known but I wanted to hope he could change for me.” 
“That’s horrible of him to do.” 
Rosé let out a laugh and nodded her head, “It is. You want to know who the person was?” 
“It could be Nora, I know she-”
“It was you.” 
Y/N stared at Rosé with a shocked face and then she started laughing, shaking her head, “Probably because he hates me.” 
“The opposite...your scholarship. It’s special you know and Taehyung’s family hands them out.” 
“Yes...why are you bringing this up?” 
“Jungkook read your essay for the scholarship and I think that’s when he fell in love with you.”
“Jungkook, can you read this half?”
Jungkook sighed and leaned back in his chair with an annoyed look. For five hours he’s been helping Taehyung go through these essays. Some were good and some were, and some were funny. He only agreed because he didn’t want to help his dad with paperwork for his work. 
“How much can I read?” 
Taehyung sighed and gave him one essay, “Fine, read this one and you can take a break.”
“Can I play on your computer?”
“I just got it-”
“I can always leave.”
“Fine. Don’t break it or I’ll get yelled at.” 
Jungkook smiled in triumph and took the paper out of his hand. He looked at the paper and saw the name L/N Y/N. Every essay was different, the person could write whatever they wanted. It could be a poem, a story, etc. It just had to showcase how the person’s brain worked. He didn’t think much because so far all the essays were around pages long about their lives and struggles. He wasn’t expecting a poem.
A galaxy with no stars, a map with no direction 
Just a traveler trying to find its safe haven 
“Seek and ye shall find” 
But they never say what will find you
I used to drift away 
Never wanted to stay 
The world was too big for me
But too small for my thoughts 
If I was quiet, I could disappear 
Vanishing from the pain 
Anything to get away 
I hate the lack of control 
But I’m the one to blame 
This nightmare has consumed me 
Everything seems so real 
Even that look in your eyes 
Another day with a new dream 
Steps to enlightenment brightens the way 
But the steps are steep 
Take them one at a time 
If fear paralyzes me then hope is gone  
And this nightmare wins 
There was something with the way the words flowed and it was like he could hear her voice. She was different from all the other essays and he understood how she felt in her poem. He kept rereading the poem and he smiled to himself, it would be dumb to let her go, “I found one.”
“Rosé...why-”
“Jungkook, he tries to be an ass to push people away because he’s scared to lose them. Jae knows this, he likes to toy with him because of it.”
Y/N glanced at the picture and frowned, “I thought they were friends.”
“They were...but Jae knew how to get what he wanted from Jungkook.” Rosé turned towards the picture and frowned, “I knew he was in love with you but I just craved for something...anything really. Jae promised me he would love me and I cheated on Jungkook. I broke him because he trusted me with his secrets and I broke it.”
“Jae...he knew that Jungkook was talking to me. That’s why he wanted to spend time with me, to hurt Jungkook.” 
“When I saw you guys talking in the library, I knew what he was doing and I didn’t want you to become another victim to his game.” 
Y/N looked down at her shoes with shame, “I thought I knew Jungkook and I already had a picture in my head...”
“You knew him through other people but you don’t know him truly. I don’t even know him truly.” 
“I still can’t forgive him for buying my home but I do need to say sorry...” 
Rosé smiled at this and nodded her head, “I can tell you that Jungkook had no say in buying your home. His father makes all the deals but knowing Jungkook he has a plan up his sleeve.” 
Y/N looked up at Rosé with a confused look, “What do you mean?”
“Nothing...we should grab lunch.” 
Y/N sat on Yeri’s bed staring at her Instagram with a blank expression, “Are you sure today is the announcement?” 
Yeri nodded her head and turned to her side to face Y/N, “That’s what his Instagram story said. Maybe you won.”
Y/N scoffed at and lay next to Yeri, “With the way my life is going, I just know I lost.” 
Yeri sighed and looked at her ceiling, “I want you to win because I miss your smile.”
“If I win, I will die from shock.”
“Please not on my sheets, I just washed them.”
Y/N let out a laugh and glanced at Kook’s profile, “how do you think Kook’s personality is?”
“I’m not sure, what about you.”
“I would like to think he’s caring and kind. I bet he’s full of surprises.” 
Just then their phones vibrated and glanced at each other. Yeri smirked at Y/N, “Are you ready to see who won?
“Yeah…whoever you are, I hate you.”
They clicked on the story bubble and Y/N sat straight up in her bed, “Oh my god.”
“Soooo…do you hate yourself?”
That night, Y/N and Yeri watched past videos of Kook. That whole night, Y/N felt her heartbeat and she noticed that Kook felt familiar but she didn’t know why. Maybe it was because she watched him for a while. That’s what she’s telling herself. 
Rosé dragged Y/N and Yeri to the soccer game. Y/N knew why Rosé brought her here and she didn’t know how she felt. She hadn’t seen Jungkook since he was at the restaurant and honestly, it felt like she was seeking out for him. Every time she went to the cafeteria she would hope to catch a glimpse of him but alas nothing. She didn’t know what she wanted to hear from him but she just wanted something from him. 
She watched Jungkook make a goal and she couldn’t stop the smile appearing on her face. Rosé glanced at her and smirked, “You're smiling.” 
“Our team is winning...who wouldn’t be smiling at that?” 
“You because you hate sports but here we are.” 
Y/N rolled her eyes and she turned back to be locked on Jungkook, “I have no idea what you're talking about.” 
Jungkook looked into the audience and his eyes landed on Y/N. They both stared at each other until his coach called him and the stare-down was broken. She couldn’t forgive Jungkook for buying her home but deep down, she just wanted him to talk to her. 
After the game, Rosé brought Y/N down to the field and everything felt slow motion. Jungkook walked up to her and Y/N waited for him by the gates. She smiled at him and looked down at her shoes, “Good job at winning.” 
“I felt a boost of confidence when I saw you. You hate sports so it's an honor that you came by.” 
Y/N rolled her eyes and looked up at him with softness, “I saw your picture...it was beautiful.” 
He stiffed and rubbed the back of his head, “You saw that? What do you think?” 
“I like the flowers. It’s peaceful. What does it mean? The title...” 
Jungkook grabbed Y/N’s hand as they stared at each other with softness, “In my dreams, you're there with me with flowers around us. That’s all I want...”
Y/N glanced down at his lips but then at his doe eyes, “I-I...Jungkook.”
“I know...I just needed you to hear it from me.”
She glanced down at his tattooed hand with a frown, “Jungkook, I’m sorry. I judge you wrongly.” 
“It’s okay at least you know me. That’s all I wanted before it was too late...maybe it is too late.” 
Y/N looked up and felt the warmth left her when he removed his hand, “I-”
“Jungkook, the coach wants us!”
Jungkook glanced and nodded his head at his teammate. He looked back at Y/N and gave her one final smile, “I’ll see you later.”
“Yea-Yeah, I’ll see you later.” 
Y/N watched him leave and she couldn’t remove her eyes off of his back. She felt sick to her stomach and all she wanted to do was cry on her pillow. Why is life so complicated?
.*・。゚☆゚.*・。
Today was the day that Y/N was going to play a game with Kook. She couldn’t believe that this was finally happening. For years she dreamed about this and it was finally happening. The couple of months have been the worst in her life but now she can forget it for an hour or two. She entered the room for Minecraft (something she thought was strange for him but she ignored it) that Kook sent her. 
She entered the room and she looked at the screen with confusion. She was surrounded by flowers and it looked like someone took out all the trees. It was just flowers until she saw a sign. She walked up to the sign and read it closely, “Y/N, I’m sorry for everything that I have put you through. Please come downstairs.” 
Her mouth dropped, “No fucking way.” She pushed her chair away and ran down the stairs as fast as she could. There was a knock at the door and she knew in hindsight this was pretty suspicious but she knew who it was. She opened the door and he stood there looking at her with his doe eyes, “Kook?”
Jungkook smiled and even with him being soaked from the rain couldn’t stop his smile, “Y/N.”
“What the fuck is going on?”
“I have so much to tell you.” 
“Sure, my parents are out right now. Come in.” 
They walked in and went to her room to have privacy. They sat on her bed (with Jungkook sitting on a towel) and she couldn’t look him in the eyes. He knew had to make the first move, “Your restaurant is homely.” 
“Thanks, we tried our best. It won’t be ours anymore.” 
“That's what I wanted to tell you.”
She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, “What?”
“I bought the restaurant...I’m your landowner and as your new landowner, I request no rent. Just live here and be happy.” 
She let out a laugh and shook her head, “What are you going on about?”
Jungkook turned towards her and grabbed her hands, “My father wanted to make this into a high-class restaurant. I told him he couldn’t do that, I saw potential in it, I told him. He said then it’s all mine or it’s going back to the previous landowner. I bought it because I knew this was your home and I wanted you to be happy.” 
“I-I have no words. You did this for me?”
“I would do anything for you.” 
“Did you tell Jessica to say sorry to me?”
Jungkook let out a laugh and nodded his head, “I did. It was pretty easy to convince her.” 
She smiled and rubbed his knuckles gently, “You picked me for the scholarship...”
“Rosé told you?” 
“She did...she also told me that...she told me that you're in love with me. Kook, I need to hear it from you.”
Jungkook leaned forward and placed his forehead on hers, “I-I’m in love with you...I was a selfish asshole in the beginning because I wanted to push you away. I realized that I couldn’t do that anymore to you nor myself. I love you, L/N Y/N. If you don’t feel the same, then say it.” 
She smiled and looked down. Silence encased around them and he couldn’t help but laugh. She looked back at his face and tilted her head. She gave him a quick kiss, “I feel the same...you were a selfish asshole. I’m glad we can agree on that.” 
He rolled his eyes and pushed some hair behind her ear, “Full of surprises.” 
“You did all this for me and never told me...”
“I was scared to tell you. You hated me, remember.” 
“For good reason.” 
He shook his head and chuckled, “Yes for good reason…can I have permission to kiss you?”
“Permission granted.”
He glanced down at her lips and she smiled at the softness in his eyes. She nodded her head and he leaned forward placing his lips on hers. The rain that was hitting her window became silent and the only thing that they felt was each other. His lips molded against hers with slowness making her head spin from the passion. It wasn’t until she felt his tongue against her lower lip, Oh, Jungkook. She parted her mouth and he made his way inside. He tasted like banana milk with a hint of chocolate, it was addictive. She knew she was in trouble. 
When they pulled apart, their foreheads touched as he pushed some hair away from her face. She placed her hands on top of his and frowned, “You’re hands...they're cold.” 
“I don’t feel cold when I’m with you.” 
She rolled her eyes and admired his face, “Should I warm you up?” 
His eyebrows raised and he was taken aback by her mischievous look, “Can you?”
“Is that a challenge, Mr. Jeon?” 
“Always is...especially with you.” 
She gently wiped water from his face, “Careful...you look like you're in love.” 
“Then I’ll get injured. It will be worth it.” 
He brought her into another passionate kiss but it was different from the first kiss. A soft moan slips from her throat and is swallowed by his lips. She clung to him, fingers curling at his gray jacket as he sucked on her tongue. She let out a small whimper when he gently bit her lip. When they parted, she couldn’t look away from him. Jungkook brought up his thumb running against her spit-soaked lower lip, he was captivated by the hazed-out love-drunk look on her face.  
“Do you want to continue?” 
“I would be stupid to say no...and stupid is not what I am.” 
He let out a laugh and pushed up her shirt. She quickly raised her arms and he tossed the black shirt over her head. She let out a small laugh at his eagerness but it was quickly wiped away when she saw the lust in his eyes. She was grateful that she didn’t wear a bra at home. He palmed against her breasts and squeezed them gently before his mouth replaced it. Softly moaning his name as her hands were brushing through his hair. 
His tongue flicked against her sensitive nub making her buck against him. He smirked at the effect he had on her. He gently pushed her on the bed and her head was against her pillows, looking at him with patience. She looked beautiful. Her hair sprawled out with all her little moles begging him to continue. Her stretch marks were his map that he couldn’t help but follow with his fingertips. She was a masterpiece that even he couldn’t afford on a good day. 
“What?” 
He rubbed her stomach gently and shook his head, “Nothing.” 
He gently removed her sweats and was met with a thin fabric. He stared at it for a second before tossing it with her shirt. Y/N felt his hands brushing over her ankles, her knees, and then her thighs while feeling his tongue sliding against her skin. She felt him kiss the inside of her thighs and she looked away with shyness washing over her face. She let out an unsteady breath when she felt his hot breath between her legs. 
“Jung-Jungkook.” She gasped out loud and her head whipped back to look at him. He placed his hands on her hips. 
He looked up and saw her flushed face and he smirked but then realization hit him. Was she inexperienced with this? He was going to show her that all the other guys she was with before were missing out on the greatest masterpiece. 
“Relax, I got you.” 
“Oh fuck...” She was squirming underneath him, the overwhelming sensation was taking over her. “Jung-Jungkook...please.” She wasn’t sure what she was pleading for but everything was overwhelming in a good way. 
Suddenly he added a finger and Y/N melted against him. Her fingers were gripping on the sheets and his hair, “I..I...Oh.” She breathed before he added another finger and the sensation of his tongue swirling around her clit was making her go crazy. 
Everything hit her. She was breathing loudly and he watched her face scrunched up. Jungkook slowly moved himself on top of her with a proud smirk. He saw the dazed state she was in and kissed her neck. Tasting the saltness while she was breathing loudly. 
“Are you okay?” 
She glanced at him and brought him into a kiss. He let out a groan when he felt her sucking at the tip of his tongue. She pushed him away and bit her lip, “I need you.”
“Need me for what?” 
She rolled her eyes and unzipped his jacket, tossing it at her pile of clothes. She glanced at his tattoos and gently traced them with her fingertips. She knew many hated his tattoos but she saw it as her map. A map that was filled with adventure and color within her black-and-white life. It was the most beautiful art piece she had ever seen. She was going to keep it from the public the best she could. 
“I need you inside of me.” 
“Can’t argue with that.” 
Jungkook took off his jeans as she leaned towards her nightstand taking out a condom. When he was done, he leaned back on top of her, kissing her slowly while she brushed her hands over his biceps. He slid his hand down the valley of her breast and then cupped her between her legs, making her buck against him, “You ready?” 
“Mmmm....”
He turned them around and she was on top, placing her hands on his chest to push herself up. Her eyes widened at the change but it quickly washed away, “Perfect.” 
“Oh..shit.” He groaned at the feeling and leaned forward nipping at her neck while helping her set a pace. She arched her back, moving up and down. His hands slid towards her ass, grabbing onto the cheeks, pushing himself deeper. 
Jungkook couldn’t take it anymore because of the eagerness he had with her. He suddenly grabbed her and slammed himself deeper inside of her. She moaned out his name and held onto him as he quickened his pace. Her nails digging into his tattooed arm. 
“Y-Y/N...shit.” 
Jungkook felt her clenching around him and he couldn’t hold back anymore. Groaning as he came and fell on top of her, both of them breathing loudly. She looked up at him and saw hair sticking to his forehead and she smiled. She pushed the hair and gently traced his face, “I-I love you.”
“I love you more...so much more.” 
.*・。゚☆゚.*・。
“Hey guys, it’s Kook. I’m going to take a small vacation since it’s the holidays but enjoy my top moments of 2023. I’ll see you next year! Happy New Year and drop a like if you laugh.” 
Y/N smiled at her phone and she sat on the couch, “Babe, do you want chicken?” 
“That sounds good.” 
Jungkook came into his living room and tilted his head, “What are you watching?” 
She let out a small laugh and looked up at him with a mischievous look, “My favorite Youtuber...” 
“Well, I hope he knows that I’m your favorite everything.”  
“I guess...” 
It’s been three months since their relationship. Her parents were shocked that she was dating him but after she explained everything to them, they saw him in a different light. Everyone at school was surprised to see Jungkook with someone like Y/N but no one questioned him (except Jessica). 
Rosé and Jaehyun became the new couple of the campus. Rosé didn’t have a choice to be with Jaehyun after the news got out that she cheated on Jungkook. She didn’t want her image to be ruined, so she settled with him. Jaehyun on the other hand was upset that Y/N was with Jungkook. He even tried to fight Jungkook but lost that fight. Jaehyun didn’t love Rosé the way he loved Y/N but Jungkook isn’t going anywhere. 
Taeyong and Yeri hated Jungkook at first but they started to like him slowly. Y/N wanted to tell them what Jungkook had done for her but he wanted to earn their likeness now. Jungkook even helped Taeyong with Seulgi while he helped Yeri with her classes. It was a sweet scene to see. 
Jungkook’s parents were indifferent to her. She was expecting that considering she was normal. Jungkook tried his best to get his parents to like her but she stopped him. It wasn’t worth it. If he loved her that’s what matters. 
Y/N glanced at Jungkook and raised her eyebrow, “What?”
“I can’t admire you?” 
“No...gamer boy. You can’t.”
He leaned forward placing a kiss on her lips, “I’ll always admire you...my favorite masterpiece.” 
751 notes · View notes
kithtaehyung · 2 months
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broken, pt. 2 (3tan) (m) | myg
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title: broken (pt. 2) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted | broken (pt. 1) rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: the championship game lights up... and everything goes down. note: not too much to say other than thank you. this part is definitely another very, very close one to my heart. please buckle up and enjoy the ride. warnings: [spice warnings under the cut] language, angst, tension, alcohol mention & consumption, fights, basketball!yoongi🧍‍♀️, cocky!yoongi, jimin😳, tense situations, did i say angst?, long hair yoongi, crying, bro😀, reader is a real one i don’t make the rules, arguments, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, saying softhours puts some of this lightly, bro🥲, blood/wound mentions, hurt/comfort, there’s just a lot in here y’all idek, taehyung being the best ever, …angst. drop date: february 9th, 2024, 10:37pm est word count: 17.7k my god
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smut warnings: cursing, choking, light slapping, breast play, angry s*x a ha ha, crying, multiple explicit scenes y'all istg don't perceive me lol, c*nt slapping, penetrative s*x, brat!reader, protected s*x, edging, consent king ofc :), rough s*x, b*cksh*ts and a lot of them, ...unprotected s*x (yeah it's here and y'all better be responsible or so help me!!!), f*ngering, or*l (m/f rec), brat tamer!3tan yoongi!!!, reader loses themselves for a sec, but yoongi is a king, pain k*nk whewwww, kissing, so much kissing lmfao, c*m play, slight bond*ge (yoongi hands), spanking, aftercare ofc :'))
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-
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There’s no way.
How the fuck is he here? When did that horrible excuse of a guy even join a team? Had he been playing intramurals this whole time? 
“No fuckin’ way.”
Your eyes find your brother standing rigid at your side, wrists tensed to hell and shoulders spiked. Did he not know he was playing, either? Judging by his smoldering question, you’re going to guess he wasn’t aware. 
“Were they always on this team?” 
“No.”
“I don’t remember them being on any teams.”
They? Them? So they recognize more from the court on that day you try to not think about. Shifting your vision, you start gauge reactions under sounds of the growing crowd. 
It’s Yoongi that looks at you first, eyes lowering to the hand you still have on your arm damn it you should be okay about that night already. But you can’t seem to let your limb go, your fingers covering it in a weak attempt at protection and resilience. 
The blaze in his eyes makes you shake. Even as you swallow your pleas for everyone to just go home, he doesn’t look away. Instead, he walks over to stand in front of your knees, motioning for you to scoot over one so he can take the end seat.
Normally, you would slightly question why he wouldn’t just sit next to you. But this time, you’re hyper aware of what he’s doing—and why. It’s so obvious that you wanna reach out and grip his sweaty hand. 
Yoongi absolutely sat there to shield you.
And your heart burns and burns.
If only he could do more, be more, show more. Because with a rattled ego and tainted mind, you’re already yearning for his touch, wanting him to whisk you out of here and bring you back to the comfort of his home—just like he did that night. 
God, he makes you dizzy doing absolutely nothing. 
“What’s the plan,” he asks, eyes on the court and palms between his knees.
“Dunno yet.” Your brother shakes his head before looking back, eyes narrowing at the laughs on the other bench. “But I might get my ass thrown out if we—”
“Play.” 
Immediately, all three of them snap their heads your way. Fuck, your arm is still… 
One person cannot have this hold on you. There’s no way you’re going to let him control your every waking moment, and your determination bubbles into your commands. “Play the game and beat his ass,” you seethe, holding yourself together and aiming daggers everywhere. “Just make it quick.” 
Yoongi gives you a look before Jimin snags him with an eyebrow raise. 
“And you’re paying me double.” 
Looking at the man beside you, it’s almost comforting seeing his attention fully on your face. If it weren’t for your ghost on the other side of the scoring table and your brother standing there, you wouldn’t hesitate to kiss him. 
But you only nod, getting a huff and a lopsided curve in response before you watch him lock eyes with your brother, “What do you wanna do?” 
After a long, resigned sigh, your sibling finally relents, “Fuck this shit up.” 
Good. Yes. This is what you want—for you and them. “Exactly.” 
Scanning around the tight circle, you notice that you have everyone’s attention. 
But one person seems to send a question without any words at all. In kind, you answer the same way, wings battering your stomach when all of them send thunder to the court with lightning in their eyes.
Yoongi scoffs through a slant, carrying the air of someone you never want to mess with in your fucking life. “The fuckin’ nerve.” 
Jimin hums, sliding a finger along his flexed to hell jaw. “Bold,” he adds. And his voice drop sends shivers when he turns to you,
“Don’t worry, love.” 
You stare.
“This will be over soon.” 
-
-
The game is… just a game. For now.
No one’s taunted hard other than a few smirks and winks, and right now it seems as if both teams are just being competitive more than antagonistic. Which relaxes you to the point where you’re cheering from the bench with the other players—and their coach that arrived late—jumping and yelling and clapping when things go in their favor.
Your brother’s slamming down dunks. Jimin’s been playing amazing defense with his quick reflexes and high stamina.
And Yoongi? Has gotten sickeningly sharp. All those late nights at the rec center are paying off in this championship and, when he scores a hard shot, the pride you feel launches you to your feet. 
“Nice job, b—” Oh fuck you almost shout something that should never be public knowledge. Holding your tongue, you quickly switch it up with a hasty, “Let’s go!” 
That was close. Way too close. 
Get it together. 
But you cannot help it right now. Seeing Yoongi facing off against the man you both wanna square up against? And making it look easy? The fluttering you feel in your belly grows double. Triple. Tenfold. His gestures, the way he acts like it’s nothing, his shrugs at their failed attempts to stop him—everything’s making you scratch proverbial walls and kick bench chairs. 
And it’s not just him—the whole team has been playing excellently. Each play seems intentional; every pass and movement is strategic. If you didn’t know this was a casual rec game, you would think they’re gunning for a real, prestigious trophy. 
However. 
When it’s starting to be very clear who the better squad is, that’s when things start getting more than tense. 
On a foul call, both sides start getting in each others’ faces. And you peg that as normal until someone on your team gets shoved and your brother immediately gets between the action. 
Both you and the coach shoot up from your seats. 
Shit, shit, shit. If there’s one thing your older sibling’s gonna do in this game, it’ll be finding any excuse to deck that man in the face. And once that happens, there’s no telling how many injuries are gonna walk off polished floors.
Thankfully, everyone separates without a ruckus, and timeout is called on your side. The crowd starts to yell in favor of either team, and that’s when you notice that Taehyung has been joined by Shiv and your friends. From the looks of things, all five of them are laser focused on you. 
You hold a quick thumbs-up before you’re covered by hot and sweaty men huddling around the bench. And you immediately agree with their coach when he barks, 
“I need you all to calm down.” 
“No can do, coach.” 
“Not if they aren’t.” 
Shit. All of them look fucking livid, not giving any shits whatsoever if they’re willing to talk back to their leader. What’s really been happening on the court? Has it been even more tense than you perceived? 
Oblivious to the context behind this matchup, their coach keeps yelling, “Look, I don’t give a shit if you have something to settle. Play the game and leave it on the floor. Understood?” When there’s charged silence, he yells it even louder. 
And a smattering of agreement comes out before all of you hear an even bigger yelling session booming from the other bench. When you look over, it’s quickly noticeable that they’re getting reamed over there, too. 
Jimin watches before speaking, and it seems like your coach’s pleas fell on deaf ears, “Fifteen went for my legs.” 
“Saw that. Let’s switch cus he can’t guard me.” 
“K.” Park swivels his head to address someone else. “You good to keep playing?” 
Your brother responds with a nod, wiping his never-ending sweat. “Yeah, I’m good.” 
Huh. Even though you know he’s mad, the man seems… Calm. Eerily calm. It’s reminding you of the way he acted after you came home from Yoongi’s. 
And you don’t like it one bit. 
But the timeout is over, and both teams eye each other on their walk back onto the court. As it continues, the gym erupts into life again, with a bit of back and forth shots racking the scoreboard up. 
And Yoongi keeps scoring. And scoring. And scoring. 
Which lands him in a bit of trouble when the same idiot from Dalo pushes him during a layup. After he manages to make the shot, Yoongi immediately flicks him off—which gets a whistle blown. Which also means he has to sit on the bench for a second because his coach is pissed. 
Ignoring the scathing remarks being thrown, he dumps himself next to you. And you immediately feel the heat roll off of him in waves, trying hard to focus on the game. “Don’t be stupid,” you jut out. 
“What?” 
“Don’t be stupid. These guys aren’t worth it.” 
“After what he did to you?” 
The way those words leave his mouth ice you over, flares spiraling through every fiber of your being. Your reaction is so visceral that you can barely get your response out, “Yeah, but…” 
Leaning on his knees, Yoongi wipes his forehead with a crinkled to hell jersey, excess sweat pinging onto his sneakers. The crowd is loud and the buzzers even louder, but they aren’t enough to drown out his bite,
“I can’t let that shit go.” 
“Yoongi.” 
“Sorry, doll.” 
“Please just—” 
Yoongi leaves the bench before you can finish, and you whip your head in a rush, hands jutting out in a desperate attempt to hold him back. 
Only for him to be just out of reach. 
-
-
After halftime, it’s a whole different game. 
From an outside perspective, it’s as if everyone was using the first half to sniff each other out, circling around each other before deciding how and when to go in for the kill. 
And Yoongi isn’t the only one that you’re starting to worry about. Jimin, your brother, and even Rohan and the other guys are on edge, playing hard and doing everything they can to keep their scoring lead. 
Both you and their coach know you can’t stop whatever’s going on out there. And you’re starting to feel yourself getting angry at how your brother and them are egging the guys on. 
Why are they taunting? What the hell is making them so bent on making the other team pissed? Yes, all that went down with you, but nothing else had happened since then. And they clearly aren’t listening to anyone telling them to calm down.
If they end up starting shit you are going to—the fuck! 
Yoongi gets straight shoved again as he goes for a layup, and you shoot up in your chair as he hits the back wall with a thud. While the players at your side are yelling and everyone on the court starts grouping in shouts, you stay rigid, solely watching Yoongi eye his attacker—the same idiot from Dalo.
Fuck everything, you wanna rush into the fray and throw hands yourself because that looked painful.
The only thing that’s stopping you is the chilling fact that Yoongi is… Grinning. 
Wiping his curved lips, he waits while the refs break up the squabble, still looking triumphant as he walks to the line to shoot his free throws. When both of them are made, he stares directly at your assaulter—as you finally call it like it is—and doesn’t stop even when the coward looks away.
A whistle blows, and the game continues to be close. Too close, too close, too close. A couple more timeouts let you see just how laser-focused everyone is, and you’re a little shaken when it feels like they forgot you were even occupying their bench. 
What the hell is being said on the court? Even Jimin is brimming with anger. 
But after a few back and forths, Yoongi passes to your brother for a hard dunk, basket ringing from his throwdown and shaking when he lands. 
Thank god. Those points are enough. They’re gonna win. 
All the pent up anxiety you’ve harbored all game releases as everyone starts cheering, and your pride soars as your boys stare down their opponents while the clock winds down.
It’s over. The game is over, nothing too serious happened, and you can all go the fuck home to eat dinner and celebrate. 
Your eyes catch Yoongi throwing a rudely lopsided curve across the court. Even when Jimin comes up to push him back in excitement, his expression doesn’t change. 
And you find that wildly, unfathomably attractive. 
Then, as it goes, your brother comes up and they all share quick daps, eyes ablaze and not letting the losers out of their sight. 
Well. All of them are infamous for a reason. You would guess their energy altogether certainly contributes to that. Because the aura you feel oozing from them fills the gymnasium all the way up to your knees. 
And the sigh you let out mingles with their coach’s shake of his head.
-
-
Things are still tense as they all shake hands—or at least offer hands to shake—with the other team. The atmosphere is even a little iced when they receive their trophy. 
But the way you’re currently being surrounded as your guys converse hides you from plain sight, so you feel heavily protected. Even Jimin, who’s usually cheerful even when exhausted, wields sharp eyes as he keeps glancing over his shoulder. 
Honestly? You wouldn’t know what to do without them. Both your brother and all his friends, good pasts or not, are great people. They didn’t need to shield you like this. But they’re doing it anyway, because they won’t give that lowlife another reason or chance to approach you. 
Yeah. Your older sibling knows how to choose his circle.
It’s making you wonder if… 
Nah. 
That’s still too big a reach. 
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When it seems like all of them and their cheering squad are gone, everyone starts making their way over to the bleachers—and you’re acutely reminded of what went down under similar looking ones the other night. 
Your shivers are overshadowed by Yuri’s telltale screams to Rohan, “You were so good, baby! Are you okay?”
Reia and Dom shake their heads before focusing on you, the latter being the spokeswoman, “So what was all that for?”
“Don’t ask,” you sigh, knowing exactly what she’s referring to. “I’m just glad they won and that we can go home.”
“You’re not coming to Yuri’s?” Reia asks. “I thought we planned on that, no?”
Ah, shit. Earlier this week, you did make plans with them without really thinking about what day they were gonna fall on. But now you’re so mentally drained that you kinda just wanna go—
“Is anyone else starving? I’m hungry as fuck!” 
Right. Food. Adrenaline made you forget you were starving. Glancing towards your brother, you quickly remind him, “Yeah, me. And you’re paying.”
“Ah, shit, that’s right.” As he lets out a hard groan and deals with Jimin and Yoongi’s comments, your sibling relents, “Alright, where are we going.”
“Up to you,” you shrug, stealing a little look at the man you want to kiss like hell for his performance tonight. 
God, Yoongi’s so handsome. As Jimin leaves his side, he silently wipes his forehead of any excess sweat, hands and shoulders shining in the lights wait wait wait. Hold on. 
Walking over, you toss any care about who notices you out the window. And as he eyes your approach, you murmur with care and concern, “Is your back okay?” 
Blinking once, twice, the man nods. “Yeah, it’s all good.”
“You sure? That looked…”
Of course he decides that now is the perfect time to rake his sweaty locks back. Speaking so low that only you can hear, Yoongi reassures with a fist full of hair, “I’m fine, doll.” 
Motherfucker. 
Pinning down your urge to reach out and smother him, you only breathe relief. And before you move away to put some distance between, you whisper, “Thank you.”
Yoongi looks your way again. “For what?” 
Swallowing what’s left of your anxiety, you sigh. “For not getting into it out there. I was about to get mad as hell, but.. Looks like they were all talk.” 
“Mm.”
Honestly? It’s a miracle. The game’s over without any hitches or brawls? More relief starts blossoming in your chest, prompting a smile to grace your features. “You looked so good out there, by the way. I almost called you ba—”
“What are y’all talking about over there!”
Your mouth snaps shut as soon as you see your brother watching, but Yoongi is quick to fire off an insult, “The way you always take so long to pick something.”
“I picked already!”
“Then let’s go then.”
Laughing, you join the whole crew as you’re all the last ones to walk out. Your friends and Shiv parked in another lot since one side was already full, so you tell them you’ll meet at the restaurant.
Some other teammates decide to join, with jerseys being shucked off as everyone heads out the door. Immediately, body odor swoops into your nose, making you welcome the crisp, fresh air of night. 
Scratch that. You smell oncoming rain. 
Conversations cease, which only leaves the sound confirming your observation: booming, rolling thunder. Stopping at the edge of the gym’s awning, multiple heads turn up at the rumbles, watching lightning crack the sky. 
In front of you, Jimin shifts his head to the side. “Still?” 
And when you look at who he’s asking, you see Yoongi nod. 
Weird. 
But it’s not raining just yet, so all of you make your way into the lot and to your cars. As you do, you check your phone while making your way over, aiming a question at Tae, “You know where we’re going?” 
“Yeah, it’s not far,” he responds, fishing out his own device. “I think we’ve been there before.” 
We? Looks like things are progressing nicely over there. Since you’re lingering behind the guys, you start to take a small jab, “We, huh? Cute.” 
Lips spread as tight as his eyes, Taehyung parries. “Cute? Look who’s talking, miss whipped.” 
“You’re whipped.” 
“No, you.” 
“No, you,” you giggle out, reaching out to tickle Tae’s side and laughing as he flinches away. You chase him for a few seconds before you see his whole body freeze completely, asking a small question before going quiet.  
And when you slowly follow his line of vision, your heart freefalls to your gut, smashing it so hard you feel bile sting the back of your throat. 
The man from Dalo. And all the guys from the court plus some. 
Surround both Jimin’s and your brother’s cars.
Fuck. Oh, fuck, there’s so many of them, standing and waiting and unflinching in the bursts of thunder inching closer and closer what the fuck are you gonna do— 
“Taehyung.”
Your eyes shake. 
“Get her out of here. Now.”
And you’ve never screamed so loud. 
Every word rips out of your mouth before you’re promptly shushed by large fingers, icicles pinging around your heart and holding it down, “Don’t fucking do thi—!” 
To your horror, Tae’s already hauling you back, voice low and firm in your ear, “Come on.” 
“No! What the fuck—” 
“We’re leaving.”
“Please—!”
There are so many of them. So, so many of them. Panic drowns out your words and excess leaks out of your eyes, your own storm preventing you from seeing that your best friend is just as torn apart. 
“Babe, we have to go now.” 
“No, let me go!” 
They’re outnumbered. What if they have weapons? What if the police are called? What if something happens that you aren’t prepared for?
You’re screaming. Curses, their names, or whatever whatever you don’t even know what the fuck you’re saying because your toes are kissing the edge of madness. 
Dragged a good distance away, your yells devolve into incoherency, your nose and eye sockets smashing into Taehyung’s solid forearm so hard it hurts. 
Make it out, make it out, make it out. For the love of everything in the fucking universe and beyond it, make it out alive. 
Some movements and backs straightening are the last things you see before getting pulled around the corner.
And when Yoongi calmly rolls one of his shoulders, you feel a wick of your soul burn out.
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Panic. Worry. Panic and more panic. The car ride that Tae paid for is the blurriest muddy water you’ve ever waded through.
Truthfully, you don’t even remember blankets being pulled over your shoulder. Where even are you? Oh, you’re in a bed. Whose bed are you in because this isn’t yours. But what does it matter anyway what does anything matter anyway nothing matters there’s nothing you can do you gotta get up and go back over there get up get up go—
As soon as you yank his bedroom door open, Taehyung is there, holding you back and pushing your frantic energy back inside. “Tae, if you don’t let me—”
“Do what!”
“I’m going back!” Wrestling out of his strong hold, you bolt down his hallway, head clanging as your shoulder bumps into a wall. “We need to go back—”
“Stop!” You hear running as you burst through the living room, whizzing past the glowing television. “We have to stay here—”
No no no. There’s no way you’re staying here when you need to be back at that lot. Who the fuck would call for help if anyone needs it? When they’re gonna need it? Your vision proves so blurry you can’t even find your shoes—
Arms wrap around your waist and you fight back with a scream, “Let me go!”
“Stop and just think for a second—”
“Why aren’t you with me on this, they’re—”
“Dumb as fuck!” 
Your friend’s quick comment is so sharp it cuts your breath. As you still in his firm but comforting hold, you finally stop to breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe as you’re turned to level a look with his eyes.
Eyes that are red-rimmed and so, so raw. “They’re idiots,” Taehyung grits out. “But they will be alright.” 
From the shake of his voice, you find that neither of you think that for sure. 
“I need to.. To…” Your breaths are ragged, energy spent and head dizzy from your quick exit from his bed. As you come down from your volcanic high, every weight the world places on your back proves too much. 
“You need to relax,” Tae advises, guiding you further back inside. And you don’t speak as he leads you past the couch, past the pictures on his hallway wall, and into the dark of his bedroom.
Maybe it’s over. Right? Maybe someone will answer if you ring them up. “Call. I need to call…” 
“Shh,” he soothes again, walking you backwards away from his door. When the bends of your knees hit his bed, Taehyung lets you down slowly until you’re sitting. “I’ll do it.” 
Brain fried from hyperactivity, you can only nod. 
Your friend steps away to fiddle with his phone, the light illuminating his beautiful features in the night. When he holds it to his ear, this is when you hear rain and the television in the living room, noticing that it’s playing a movie he watches for comfort. 
Shit. He’s going through it just like you are, and yet he’s still finding energy to calm your nerves? What have you even done to deserve him?
Guess you know how to choose your circle, too. 
Going unanswered, Taehyung lowers his hand, thumb rubbing the homescreen before gripping the device hard. 
Both of you are in the same boat. So steer when he can’t do it anymore. Soft but assertive, you rise to your feet, offering your embrace while calling his name, “..Tae.”
When he turns, the man wastes no time in dropping his phone to bring you in close. “It’ll be okay,” he murmurs, and you hear his words on your head but feel the trembles in his chest. “Okay?”
Feeble fingers grab at his soft shirt, and you bury into his scent while soaked and tired eyes shut. 
You want to believe him. You do. You do. 
But hope may be a bitch. 
So you don’t. 
-
-
Forever passes while you both lie still in his bed, with Taehyung holding you close and keeping you subdued with notes of honey and wood. You both try to have conversation, but it’s disjointed and manufactured, so giving up is a group effort. 
You’re about to give up on a lot of things before you both jolt at Tae’s phone vibrating. 
The world shifts quick as you both sit up, the call immediately being accepted and a low greeting whooshing at your side, “Hey.”
With bated breath, you hear Jimin on the line. “Hey.” 
“You okay?”
“Yeah, we’re all alright, but…”
We. We, we, we, all of them thank the fucking world. As your breath is held, Taehyung’s voice is solid, “Say it.”
“My eye is pretty fucked. Yoongi’s face is cut up and he’s got some nasty bruises on his—” 
You don’t even remember yanking the phone to your mouth. “Where is he.”
Jimin audibly pauses on the line before having the audacity to chuckle. Irked and feeling ire bubble back to the surface, you seethe, “This isn’t funny, Park. Where the fuck is he?” 
“With us.” Us. Shit. “In the car.” 
Oh. 
“Your brother’s here, too.” 
“Ah.” That means they’re all there. They’re all heading home. “Am I on speaker.” 
“Umm.. Yeah.” 
As much as you’re relieved they’re all okay, stockpiled anxiety transforms into anger, your limit striking the thundering sky. “Actually, you know what? Good. Now I can say you’re all idiots and immature as fuck.” 
It’s your sibling that responds first. “Hey, wait a damn minute—” 
“I waited long enough!” you scream, ignoring Taehyung’s wide eyes. 
You know you need to relax. But you can’t help what’s happening right now and all you feel is pain. “I know this shit isn’t new to y’all, but really? You didn’t need to do this.” 
“He was gonna—”
“All you had to do was play the game! Why’d you have to make them mad? Do you even know what could’ve happened back there?” Damn it, you weren’t supposed to cry during this part, not when you just want them to know they fucked up. 
And the response is dead silence. Because of course it is. But if they won’t answer you here, they’re gonna answer another, “Just tell me one thing,” you plead. “Is this gonna happen again?” 
That one your brother answers with finality. “They won’t be coming around anymore.” 
Gulping, you give Taehyung a glossy-eyed look before staring at his lit screen again. Trying not to let your voice waver, you accept his response, “Okay… Are you okay?” 
“Me? Yeah, the hits I took were weak as fuck. I’ll get home soon so if you wanna order in tonight we can.” 
“Fuck that.” 
“Huh?” 
What an idiot. “Bro, you don’t even know how fucking mad I am,” you accuse through gritted teeth. There’s no way in hell you wanna deal with their bullshit. Ignoring your pleas and staring harm in the face? Forget it. “I’m going to Yuri’s.” 
“What? Nah, come home tonight and we’ll talk.” 
“I just—No.” Taehyung has to grip your shoulder before pulling you into a hug. And you’re still steel in his arms because you haven’t been this upset in ages. “I’m not talking to any of you for awhile.” 
And you mean that. 
“…Fine. But go asap then. I don’t want you out late on your own.” 
So you gotta listen to what he wants but when it comes to what you say, it’s crickets? Goddamn, you’re furious. “…Of course you don’t.”
And you hang up before anyone can say anything else. 
-
-
You open the front door to your brother leaning against the hallway wall.
Both of you eye each other, one of you with a perfectly fine face and the other that isn’t so lucky because he’s a fool.
And no words are exchanged as you trudge your frustration to the kitchen. 
-
-
Ice. Bandages. Dinner. Anger propels you through it all.
Whipping up a quick but hearty meal, you let your brother patch himself up after demanding he showered. The smells of comfort food waft through your nose as things sizzle on the stove and, through the whole process, you don’t think about anything except how upset you are.
They’re all okay. But like Taehyung so abruptly put it, they’re all stupid. 
As you turn off your burner, you transfer everything to a bowl, sighing so loud it seasons the top with fire. When you approach the bar, your actions speak pretty damn loud—the dish clank shoving out a question from your sibling,
“Is there something you wanna say to me?” 
“There’s a bunch of shit I wanna say to you.” 
“It’s about Yoongi,” he asks, the absence of hesitation making your insides squeeze. “Isn’t it.” 
But luckily for you, your rage is so potent that it overruns your fear. As soon as your brother stands up and starts to repeat his question, your correction clangs through the room, 
“It’s about all of you! You say you wanna be there for me but what the fuck will doing this shit do?” 
Freezing, the man waits in shock as you keep going, “Yes, that guy deserves hell. I was so scared when he grabbed me at the club.” You stop to swallow. “But I had them both there and we left.”
Fuck, this is hard. Having to relive that shit is difficult but you need your brother—and all of them, for that matter—to know how hurt you feel right now. Mustering up enough bravery to get to the goddamn point, you finally squeak out, 
“If I lose them? Lose you? Because of something as stupid as a fight?” Your eyes search his, and your heart cracks when you see glassy sheen amongst his bruises. “What would I do then?” 
You expect silence. And silence is what you get. It’s drawn out, loud, and telling. “We know.” 
“Do you?”
“Yes,” he whispers, eyes lifting to meet yours with sincerity. “And we’re sorry.”
Another moment passes between the two of you, the food you made left uneaten on the counter and the rest sitting still on the stove. But you know your sibling will eat it all tonight, whether you’re there or not. 
And you step forward at the same time he holds his battered arms out. 
Freshly showered, he still smells like rain and exertion. But his heart beats under your chest, he’s present, and back home—things you need to stop taking for granted. 
But you’re still mad. And getting things off your chest has only made you tired, so you decide that it’s finally time to go before you circle back to other scary territory brought up tonight. “I’m leaving now,” you announce as you step away. “But just think about that.” 
“I will.”
“I’m serious.” 
“I will.”
Staring, you take note of his cuts and injuries, wondering how the others are faring even though you don’t wanna deal with anything else. Because it hurts too much, and if you see who you’re thinking about, there’s no telling what you’d do if you were like this with your brother. There’s no telling how you’d…
No. You choose to go the easy route this time. Everyone can simmer in their sore, swelling consequences while you have a night of de-stressing with your friends. 
So you leave to go pack without another word. 
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It’s raining. 
Hard.
And even though your car is heading to Yuri’s, your heart is beating backwards. Tugging you somewhere else and not letting up. 
With a ping of chill, you can’t shake it. Braking at a stop sign close to your destination, you sit in silence, letting the rain pelt every side of your vehicle and wondering what the hell to do. 
Truthfully? Your brother looked like shit. But your body isn’t telling you to go back to the house, which can only mean one other place. And you know for a fact you don’t wanna talk to him, either. 
So fucking upsetting. They did all that for what? You can barely keep your thoughts in a row because they keep yelling at jostling each other just like everybody did on the court. If anyone had to fight the dipshit, it should've been you. 
Fuck! Your head connects with the wheel, an inner monster rumbling with the thunder because you’re so fed up with everything that happened. 
Your brain is the one yelling. But your heart is begging for it to listen. Go to Yuri’s? Go to Yoongi’s. Find shelter in that warm bed of hers and sink in her plushies to comfort you? 
A sigh. Maybe you can at least call him to tell him off one more time. He needs to hear what you told your brother because if you ever, ever lose him—
Your eyes burn. 
Yoongi: Outgoing Call
No answer.
Yoongi: Outgoing Call
Pick up. What the fuck.
Yoongi: Outgoing Call
…Turn the fuck around shit, shit, shit.
Curses flying, you whip your vehicle in a flash, heart pounding so loud it’s blocking out the storm. Which is morbidly impressive considering how horridly it’s pouring. 
Thinking in leaps, you pivot and make another decision. Tell her and make it all quick. 
Yuri: Outgoing Call
“Hello?”
“Hey, I’m not coming.”
“You okay?”
“I’m going to Yoongi’s.”
“Yoongi’s? Why?”
Ah, shit. Oh, fuck. She doesn’t know. 
Banging the steering wheel, you smash your teeth, stressed as hell from braving the rain in the dark and now snitching on yourself to someone else. 
Damn it. What do you say? What can you possibly even say when you’re so mad and stressed and conflicted and worried—
“Hello?”
“Because he’s the one,” you whoosh out, your vision quivering twice as much as it should. “And things went down after the game and now something feels wrong.”
“Oh, shit. Is that why y’all didn’t come to—”
“Yes.” When you say all this out loud, now it has weight. Horrifying weight on your chest and a block pushing down on the gas. You hear a bit of shuffling on the line, and you’re starting to get so anxious that you blurt, “Please don’t say anything. Please.”
“I won’t. Not about this.”
“Thank you.”
“Hang up, babe. Make it safe.”
“Okay.”
Go, go, go. Please, just get there. 
Letting up, you change your speed, hoping to everything good in the world that this feeling you have is only a feeling and nothing more. 
Yoongi: Outgoing Call
What a strange emotion, wanting his reason for not picking up solely being because he doesn’t wanna talk to you. That is an answer you can deal with. 
But you still can’t fight off the jagged pulses telling you it’s something else. 
After an agonizing drive, you finally see his complex, tensing harder the further and further away you have to park. 
Whipping into a spot, you screech into it before hauling your bag out, popping the trunk and desperately grabbing a plastic box you always keep inside. 
And the mad dash drenches you long before you seek cover, your bones shivering shivering shivering from the chill.
Yoongi has to be home. His car is here. 
But he still won’t pick up the fucking phone.
Skidding at his door, your knocks are rapid, knuckles singed from the ice cold wraps.
Answer, answer, answer. For fuck’s sake, he better answer. 
After a haunting moment of silence, you decide to call one more time, head wet and bones shivering as you press the phone to your damp ear. 
Finally. “Hello.” 
“Open the door,” you jump into commanding, hearing nothing other than a voice that sounds so crushed and low that it crumples you inside. 
“You’re here?” 
“Yeah, let me in.” Fuck, your teeth are clattering against each other, whether it’s from the rain, the cold, or anger, you can’t tell. 
But the reply you get is the coldest thing imaginable. And it sets your whole body aflame. 
“Not tonight.”
Hell no. Hell fucking no Yoongi is not going to get rid of you that easily. Not when you have a boatload of things to say and only one dock to dump them all on, “Yoongi, I swear to god—” 
“Not tonight—”
“—you don’t let me in I’m—”
“Go home—”
“I’m fucking staying out here until you open the goddamn door!”
Oh, you’re pissed. You’re so fucking pissed because this all could’ve been avoided if none of them were stupid. Or prideful. Or whatever the fuck boys decide to be when they can’t let something go. 
And this man still has the audacity to give you the stiff arm, silence on the line before he rasps out another short, “I’m serious.”
“No.”
“Go home.” 
“No!” 
He says your name. So, so softly, before a gut-wrenching, 
“Please.”
Breath shaken, you rest your forehead against chilly wood, hoping it quells the fire you feel rising from your rib cage. 
You can’t give up. Not when you have so much to say. Not when you have to check on him and make sure he’s fine. 
Not when you give into the strongest premonition that you need to be nowhere else but with him tonight. 
You will stay. Stay, stay, stay. Even if he doesn’t want to see you. 
Voice trembling in rage and concern and everything in between, you feel your eyes sear through when they close, mission boiling down to one more desperate choice, 
“…No.” 
You’re cold. And wet. But you will stand out here for as long as it takes him to let you inside—a night, a day, no matter what.
And for a moment. Or a few. You think he’s dead set on making you prove that. 
But you finally, finally, finally hear a sigh before a lock turn, and you try to prepare yourself for what you see but he opens the door and his face comes into view holy shit he looks like a wreck—
“What the fuck,” you grit out as you rush in with vision swimming, digging into your bag for the medkit you hastily stashed and swinging off your sandals because you gotta get something in the—
A hand grips you hard, tugging you back before you even register what’s happening.
As your feet stumble back onto linoleum, your gaze snaps to the ground. 
And your breath cuts like it’s your last. 
Shards. 
Pieces.
Thousands of wood and glass chips litter the entire open area of the living room. 
And realizing where they came from strikes like lightning. 
Fuck. Oh, fuck, what did Yoongi do?
“I told you, doll.”
You choke on a sob.
“Go home.”
Your breaths return before you straighten, tears flowing freely as you don’t know whether to start cleaning up the chaos or finally facing the one who caused it.
No, no, no. Get rid of it. 
Throw it out, all of it, all of it. 
A new fire roars to life, forging your steeling commitment as you wrestle out of Yoongi’s hold.
What did he do, what did he do?
Revving with smoke out of your ears, you burn a path to the kitchen, grabbing a trash bag before marching into the wreckage. Up go the biggest pieces first, chucked into plastic before the smaller ones follow.
Throw it all. This one, this one, and this one.
Yoongi isn’t even wearing shoes. He can cut himself up even more if this all stays where it is. 
Shit, this is everywhere. 
When you realize you’re gonna need a broom, you storm back into his laundry closet to yank one out and keep going. When you go to sweep, the sharpest voice cuts through your fingers.
“Stop.”
Your grit grips the tool even tighter. Because you won’t. Don’t dare look into his expression, either, because you know that one glance will melt every scream on your tongue. So you stay resolute and shoot rejection to the ground, “No.”
“Just go, please.”
“No.”
This hurts. 
This really, really hurts. 
Yoongi has never, ever said these things to you and it feels like a knife jabbing into the same spot over, and over again. You almost prefer three new months of no contact over whatever the hell this is.
But you have to keep going. Eyes clenching, lips wobbling, you must keep going. 
Because you came here for a reason other than this mess. And he’s gonna have to do better than this to kick you back out into the rain. 
“I got it.” 
“Let me do it.” 
“Your brother needs you.”
“Yeah, well, I already tore the fuck into him and I’m gonna do the same to you.” You harden your fist on the sweeper, tugging it more towards your shoulder with finality. And you gather all the energy you need to leave no more room for arguments, because Yoongi is going to listen, “So sit down.”
It hurts.
He wants to say shit. You know he wants to.
But he only breathes hard with eyes closed, following your orders and carrying his dark clouds to the dining room. 
When he finally leaves you alone, this is when you look his way. 
In sweats and a shirt, he appears fine. But with a deep pang, you notice he’s slightly limping. Judging from those knuckles, you wonder if they’re red from the fight or from hitting another wall of his apartment. 
Or from whatever the fuck happened around your feet.
Shit.
While he dumps himself at his table, you clean up the pieces of his rampage, mentally noting that one plan of yours has now changed. 
This one. These, too. A string here. A metal piece there.
You don’t know how long it takes you. All you know is that you’re burning inside, determined to clean everything and sweep this chaotic energy away. 
One more. Two more. Another one here.
As soon as you’re done, you lug the trash bag out of the front door and don’t give a shit what happens to it now.
Keep going. There’s more that you need to take care of.
The fuel inside of you rages on, anger conflicting with anxiety and past worries and sadness for something that didn’t even happen. As you spin, you vow yourself to keep pushing until you can’t anymore. 
Sniffling. Shivering. But staying strong because things could’ve gone a lot worse. 
Yoongi meets you by the table, messy, damp hair shielding his features. “You’ve done enough.” 
“I still need to—” 
“Just.” He looks away. “Go home, doll. I can’t do this tonight.” 
“Do what? I’m helping you.” 
That’s what you do for each other, right? You both help each other. But now you’re not so sure because Yoongi comes back with not an acknowledgement, nor a way of relenting. 
But ice. 
“Who said I needed it?” 
And in all the time you’ve spent with this man, this is the first time you’ve felt downright cold. “Yoongi, what?” Your eyes travel across his face, chest caving in when there’s barely any hints of vitality. “Are you serious?” 
“You think I’m joking?” 
“You’re kicking me out? What happened to saying you’d never do that, huh?” 
“I say a lot of things.” 
…Oh.
That hurt. That… That physically couldn’t have hurt any harder. 
Nodding, you look away, shaking your head in disbelief because you are on the verge of losing it. “You know what? You do say a lot of things.”
Walking away, you start rearranging pillows on the couch pushed askew. “Like how perfect I am.” Picking up his books from the now non-existent coffee table. “And how there’s no one else.” 
As you give the volumes a new home on his intact tv stand, you turn to face him again. “Those are just words, too, huh?” 
Yoongi kicks his head back with a smile, one that cuts instead of mends. “Nah… Not tonight.” 
“Not tonight what.” 
“We aren’t doing this tonight.” 
“The fuck we aren’t.” It’s his turn to walk away, with a slow head shake that you really don’t like. “Where are you going?” 
“Nowhere.” Yoongi shifts his head to the side, but not enough for you to fully see him. It’s almost as if he doesn’t want you to. “But you’re going home.” 
Something’s off. There’s something completely off but all you feel is sadness and rejection in your ribcage. “So this is how it happens, huh. Now I’m just like everyone else.” 
He finally faces you, miles away even though you’re just rooms apart. “You’re gonna go there?” 
“I am.” 
“Wow.” 
That’s what he comes back with? This is gutting you from the inside out and you have no idea what’s happening but now rage is flaring into your mouth, “You think I wanted to come here? After what all of you did?” 
“Do you even know?” 
“No! But how the fuck would I? You don’t tell me shit!” 
“That’s cus—” 
Your response sears over his floors, “I can take care of myself. But none of you told me about that dude from the court. None of you.” Breath shaken, you continue dumping out all your thoughts and previous concerns, “If I had known? That whole Dalo thing could’ve been avoided and I would’ve ran.” 
For a person that you’ve come to know as so warm, Yoongi’s entire aura freezes you over as you keep talking. “And today? You know how fucking scared I was? If I… I…” 
All he does is stare. Why isn’t he doing anything else? Is he really flipping the switch and choosing to legitimately let you leave this time?
Fine then. 
“You know what?” Giving up, you laugh—harsh, and breathy, and without any joy at all. “Forget it. You’re not even listening anyway.”
“I swear to—I just said not tonight.” 
Frustration from the game, fear from the ambush after, anxiety from not hearing from them. All of it coalesces into something you can’t even control anymore. Your buffer shuts off, the monster you created seizing the reins, “No, I get it. I do! You want me gone. Sure. See you in three more months.” 
Stunned, Yoongi huffs in disbelief, jaw working overtime. “Are you serious?” 
“Yes, I am. Trying to help you but it looks like you don’t even want that. So good fucking bye.” 
And it looks like he has a beast of his own because his next response to your last attempt has you reeling back in shock, 
“Who asked you?” 
Dark liquid drips onto your soul. 
You can only stare, unblinking and feeling like you’re in an entirely different universe. “Who asked me? Who asked me.” 
“That’s what I said.” 
Forget the question of who asked you because… Who are you even talking to? Who is this person standing in front of you because it’s not the Yoongi you know. It’s so jarring and hurtful and strange that you truly feel thrust into the middle of a nightmare. 
You’re gonna do it. You’re actually gonna leave this time. 
“You know what? Kiss my ass, Yoongi.” 
God, it hurts. It hurts. It hurts.
It hurts.
You don’t even know where this is all coming from. All you know is that you’re angry and there’s no stopping the hot magma bubbling in your center. 
Silence fills the room.
And it rains. It pours.
But finally, you hold a sob back before burning a shaky path to his door, wrestling with the lock before yanking it open—
Only to have it shut back in your face, so thrown when you realize you’re getting spun. Air whooshes out of you before your shoulder blades connect with wood—  
And this is the goddamn breaking point. The walls you haphazardly built to keep you upright collapse and tumble. It’s so potent and blinding that you don’t even realize your hands are connecting with his chest in the weakest, saddest ways and you are outright screaming. 
“God, what the fuck! I told you to—We didn’t hear from you for hours and I—I didn’t know if you were okay—” 
“Whoa, hold u—” 
“I thought the worst and I—didn’t even get a chance to—I finally told you want I wanted and you—Fuck—” 
“Just listen—” 
“Don’t ever do that again! I don’t wanna lose you and today was so fucking scary and I’m not, fucking, leaving—” 
Your lips are smashed to hell, his lips bruising so hard you feel it in the back of your skull. And it’s a whole storm as Yoongi pins you against the door, leg wedging between yours and his hands gripping you like a vice. It’s intense. It’s overwhelming. 
“I swear to—” 
You don’t know what to do. What to do what to do what to do, and all your madness jangles as you’re yanked and slammed against another wall, breath leaping into his open mouth before you tug at his hair, digging anger through his shoulders. 
“Can’t fucking listen, can you?” 
“No,” you rip from your throat, shoving him back only to gravitate right back and lock lips again. 
And he rips at your clothes, tearing the front of your shirt so far your chest emerges on full display. Before you can even react to the cuts on his face, Yoongi’s hand clenches around your throat, making you gargle just how you fucking want to right now. 
“Shouldn’t even fucking be here.” 
“When has that ever stopped us.” You groan as you get rapidly led back into something hard, and you realize it’s the dining table digging into your ass. 
“He’s still home.” 
“So?”
“Shouldn’t you—”
“Then kick me out!” you taunt. “For real. Let me go. Fucking do it then.” 
Yoongi works his jaw before gripping tighter, making you groan and your gut flare into something primal. Nostrils flaring, he moves to grip your head hard enough to make your stomach flip but not firm enough to scare you. 
Never to scare you. “You aren’t gonna leave me alone.” 
Your eyes are ice. 
“Are you.” 
You solely watch in determination, breath harsh from your nose and billowing out like steam. Drilling your answer into his eyes, you charge the surrounding air enough to spark like the flashing sky outside. 
And Yoongi cracks like lightning. 
“Goddamn it.” 
Everything happens at once and in quick succession. Teeth grit to hell, Yoongi pulls you upward before fast stepping you to his bedroom, slamming you through the door before you shove him right into his desk. 
Things teeter and shake and clang with each impact, your storm disrupting everything in its path and creating a tornado of desire and thoughts in your brain. 
Something swirls and twists between your souls, tightening and condensing into emotions darker than midnight. And as angry as you are, it’s slipping into a dangerous mania, and you’ve never been this excited for anything in your life. 
“Stubborn.” 
“Coward.” 
Your back stings as you’re pushed back into his door, the wood smacking into the spackle of his wall. Rough lips smother yours as you claw at his shoulders, neck, hair, and you hear him growl into your mouth, 
“Want me to kiss your ass? Suck my dick then we’ll talk.” 
“Fuck you. I give better head than you anyway.” 
His words rival the deepest growl, “Prove it.” 
“Make me.”
Whirlwind. Storm. Tempest. At this point, it’s a whole goddamn high. Your body is thrumming and the only way to feed your anger is to channel it through actions. 
And truth be told, you need this. You both do. With all the high strung emotions that had nowhere to go until you collided?
This is liberation. 
You’re shoved onto your knees before Yoongi dives into his pants, and you’re already hungry and impatient enough to help him shrug his sweats down before he can do it himself. 
“Choke on it,” he commands, holding his dick and watching as you note how hard he already is. When you waste no time taking him in, you elicit the deepest groan you’ve ever pulled from him when you fling spit onto his length. 
Maybe his reaction is to your face. Because you’re still mad as fuck and you aren’t done letting him know that. 
With a passing thought, you realize that this is all new. But you’re welcoming it because it’s working. Only Yoongi can bring out this passion even in anger, or maybe the two of you were going to get to this point no matter what. 
“Fuck.” He steadies the bottom of your chin while you suck him off. “Uh huh. Got anything else to say?” 
You flick him off, and he hums with a rumble, his cock reacting and hitting the back of your prideful throat. 
“Fuck you, too, doll.” His talks devolve into hisses, grunts, moans when you slobber all over yourself, and your cunt is already dripping with your own slick. “There you go. Gonna take it all? Or are you gonna keep running that mouth?” 
And you pop off before taunting, “Find out, pussy.” 
And you’re swallowing him before he shoves you all the way forward, your body arching up in a gag but filled with him him him, your nose flat against his pelvis and his dick squeezing tears from your eyes and your throat overstuffed to hell and there’s no way he’s gonna forget this moment. You’re making damn sure of it. 
Another middle finger raises as you’re tensing around him, and you can barely hear him above you but you do know he’s massively pleased. Tears stream down your eyes when you’re yanked off, gasping for air and being pulled off the ground. 
“Holy fuck.” 
Throat hoarse, you attempt speech but it doesn’t matter anyway, because his lips steal them all. And your cunt is slapped with a whole palm, making you flinch and shoot out a whine into his kiss. 
Before you know it, your body hits the bed before he joins you, arms bulging as he rips your top open completely. You can’t even think straight as he teases your earlier efforts, “I’ve had better.” 
“Oh, you fucking—Shut the fuck up,” you growl, a moan leaving without permission as he palms your cunt again. Just when you think he’s gonna top you, Yoongi hauls you up, hastily leading you around the bed until your back connects with another wall. 
You love that shit. And you’re starting to think Yoongi is very, very aware of this fact. 
“Take those fuckin’ pants off,” he orders. “And hands on the wall before I put them there.” 
“Can’t make me do shit—”
Fingers grip your chin before Yoongi gets right into your face, primal instinct making you go on full alert. As his tongue prods his cheek, your whole lower body quivers. “I can. And I will, if you don’t behave.” Tapping your jaw in a warning, he hums. “Now do what I fucking say.” 
Holy shit, he’s not playing around. Which only heightens your desire to peaks previously unreached, and you’re shucking your bottoms off while he yanks his drawer open for condoms. Hurrying, you fling your clothes away before planting—
Yoongi smashes his whole front against your back—pinning your whole body against the cold, rough wall—before intertwining long fingers with yours. “Good girl.” 
Hitching your hips back, he sticks your ass out as you slip, and you feel his cock tease your entrance. Groaning, you grip your hands into fists as he continues to rub your cunt but never enter. Denying, denying, denying. Smacking your pussy and still not letting you feel him inside. 
And it’s maddening. “Please!” 
“Please what,” he asks, giving your ass a spank that has you flinching into the wall. 
And, without any shred of mercy, this goes on for longer than he’s ever held out. It’s so sickening that tears start flowing from your eyes, and you devolve into saying anything to get him to fuck your brains out. Between spanks on your ass, slaps on your tits, and aggravating kisses on your back, Yoongi doesn’t let you phase him for minutes. 
It’s when you choke on a sob that he finally, finally squeezes inside of you, checking for your nod before wrecking you completely. 
“Oh, fuck—” Your eyes shut tight as you try to keep yourself upright, hands pushing against the wall as your legs shift with every thrust. 
“This ass. Fuck.” Yoongi’s pace is relentless, hands bruising your hips and your cheeks smacking into his pelvis over and over and over. “It’s a goddamn problem.” 
You’re trying so hard. So, so hard to stay on the wall. But your hands are too sweaty; they're starting to slip with each attempt. “Bed,” you command. “Bed now.” 
And he obliges immediately, pulling out and yanking you back. Mouth to your ear, he both checks in while making your legs jelly, “You tapping out?” 
“Break my fucking back,” you rasp in return, hearing him growl in satisfaction before burying you facedown into his bed. As he plunges inside again, you grip at his sheets, driven to the brink and reveling in all the things he’s saying to you while feeling him in your stomach. 
Suddenly, you feel your arms pulled back, and you yell into his mattress as he buries himself even deeper. Everything you’re screaming makes no sense, but the phenomenal sensation you feel as you go limp renders you speechless anyway. 
Yoongi knows exactly what he’s doing as he pushes his thumb into your asshole, because you clench so hard around him that he chuckles darker than dark. Careening into space, you kiss the edge of euphoria before he inconveniently pulls out, launching a sling of insults from your mouth. 
“What was that?” 
“I said fuck you!” 
“Thought so.” 
Not done in the slightest, Yoongi hauls your thighs so flush against him that you have to use your fingertips for support. Just as you’re about to argue, he rams into you from a new and impossibly enticing angle and holy fuck it feels so good you want to weep.
“Put that fucking hand down,” he growls, smacking away the fingers you didn’t even know were on your mouth. “If you wanna talk shit.” 
“Fuck—!” 
“Uh huh. Let it out, baby girl.”
You’ve never felt this out of control. This wild. This out of body. Your head is yanked back, your back pressing into the front of his shirt before you feel him so far into your guts that you quiver. 
Now at the mercy of his tongue in close range, you hear his gravelly tone in your ear, “What’s my fuckin’ name.” 
“Asshole—” 
A hard smack to your tits has you crumpling with a whine. “Say it.” 
“I’ll say it if I wanna say it—” 
Another spank to your inner thigh and you’re gone. Eyes roll as he tweaks your nipple, and your words are almost garbled when he grips your chin from behind. “This what we’re doing? Hmm?” 
You laugh breathy before you taunt, “Uh huh.” 
“Mm…” Despite your laugh, you shake. “I wouldn’t do that, doll.” 
“Make me. Bet you can’t.” 
Tensed and veins angry, Yoongi grips both your tits before snarling, “That’s enough.” 
Swiftly, he shoves you down into the sheets, muscular frame pinning you as he strokes up into you just right. Again. Again. It’s all too slow and too effective and you’re trying to stay mad but all you can feel is perfection, your back arching at his thrusts and mewling at his low growls in your ear. 
“You wanted this.” Another thrust. “Talking shit.” Your jaw goes slack. “Pissing me off.” 
Your groan is downright erotic. Why why why? Just knowing you’re making him this mad flutters your cunt and, from the sinister chuckle shooting into your neck, Yoongi definitely felt that. 
“Fuckin’ thought so.” 
When he reaches to grab your breasts, the last thrust has you crying out in a flurry of pleasure. 
Every single thought is Yoongi, from beginning to end in a biblical cycle of debauchery. Exertion leaves you slick, sweat coating the expanse of your skin only to press into his bed, your mess your mess your mess. At his hands. The smacks of his cock. The rolls of his hips. Are you gone? Are you here? If he’s bruised then you feel like you are, too, and you welcome the temporary pain as Yoongi’s fingers dig ever deeper into your waist fuck one’s now pinning your head down. 
The moans you let out are unending, and your thighs shake when all you get in response is a laugh of condescension. 
“Look at you. Can’t even stay mad.” 
“Fuck you!” You’re close, you’re close, you’re close again. Release is at your fingertips, but Yoongi yanks himself out to rip it away from your outstretched fingers. “No!” 
“What, doll.” 
“Please!” 
“Nah.” 
Body sore, you’re flipped over with no mercy as something else presses against your cunt. 
Fucking hell, he’s eating you out now? Shaking, you feel Yoongi’s tongue swirl around your thrumming clit before he sucks, edging you to the point of tears and heartbreak. And it proves too much as you grab at his head, yank at his hair, because he lets up when you’re close. 
Every. Single. Time. 
Your madness spirals into your curses, and he relishes in your despair, continuing to lick and suck and slap your thighs with patience. “What do you say?” 
“Please!” 
“Mm. Not loud enough.” 
“Yoongi, please.” 
“Oh, we’re saying names now?” 
Fuck, fuck, fuck, it aches. It’s starting to borderline hurt. “I’ll be good,” you barter, beg, plead with a head spinning off its own axis. “I’ll do anything.” 
“Do it yourself then.” 
Later, when you look back on tonight, you’ll be embarrassed and shy to hell. But right now, you’re so over any shyness that you don’t hesitate, reaching down to rub at your clit and moaning when it’s so sensitive.
And Yoongi gets a front row seat. 
His groan is gutteral. And it doesn’t take you long to quicken your pace, bucking your hips and whining to the ceiling. You’re so so so close it’s right there—
Your hand is smacked away. And after you try to wrestle out of his grip, you are a flat out, blubbering mess. “Yoongi… Please…” 
“Nah.” 
This is torture. And you’re frightened at how much you’re enjoying it. “I’m so close.” 
“You’ll come when I say you can.” 
“Please! …Please..”
“You done being a brat?” 
“No! Fuck. Yes!” If you weren’t so far gone, you may have deciphered a tiny smile of amusement. But it won’t be for months later until you’ll realize that you were wrong. 
Because the menacing flash of teeth you see is much too wide to be anything other than pride. “The fuck did I say? Use your words.” 
You know you’re still upset. You know Yoongi is still upset. But for some reason, you feel closer to him than you have in awhile, and you wonder if lust and madness are two sides of the same coin. “Let me come. Please.” 
Yoongi finally obliges with something he hadn’t pleasured you with yet. And your vision blanks as you yelp at the sensation, his slick fingers pistoning into your folds so fast you’re arching so taut. From between your quivering legs, you hear one final command, 
“Then fucking come.” 
And you burst, so hard you almost feel like something threatens to spew from your cunt. But all you can do is shake and thrash under his grip, so erratic that you feel like Yoongi’s starting to pin you down. Gone, gone, gone, you’re sure the veins of your neck threaten to break through your sweaty skin. 
Then you feel his cock thrust inside of you, and you whip your head forward only to get your airway cut off. “Again,” he calmly repeats, flinging you back to the last time this happened. 
Only this time, there’s even less room for you to make any other choice. 
“I said again.” 
Your body cannot fathom disobedience, pulsing and milking his perfect fit. Over, and over, and over. You hear rumbling from a dragon above, feel breaths of steam whooshing as it watches you come undone. 
“Yoongi—” 
A light slap to your cheek is your only warning before your chin is tugged, lips smushing into yours to swallow your straining sobs. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your body is still thrumming, inundating around his cock until your emotions spill from your core. Toes. Fingers. Everything is straining and locking in place. 
“So fucking hot.” He rips your soul right out. “Shit.” 
You fly through time and space, gathering emotions and feelings and spiraling spiraling spiraling. Crying. You’re crying. Full on crying you’re so overwhelmed with everything truly you were so mean to him you upset him holy fuck you should’ve left when he told you to—
“Baby.” 
But you cannot stop crying, choke choke gasping on sobs. 
“Babe.” 
“I—I—” 
Your name stabs you with a crisp shot, coupled with a firm grip on your chin, snapping you back to lucid. And Yoongi’s eyes are frantically searching your own. “Look at me.” 
You do. Do you? You do. And his eyes… 
They’re not angry at all. It’s pure concern. Steadfast concentration. And something reflecting your soul. “Breathe.” 
“Oh, shit,” you whisper, coughing and reaching for oxygen you didn’t know you were denying. Air rushes back into your lungs as you inhale. 
“There you go. Keep going.” 
You do, gulping down air and hiccuping a breath or two. Your cheek is being caressed, you think. And with another pass, you know it is. 
“Relax for me.” And you hiccup a sob. “Breathe, babe.” 
You do, you do, you do. Yoongi kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and you breathe more and more through it all. “You with me?” 
“Always,” you answer, filter off because you are hanging by a thread and he’s holding the top. “Please don’t kick me out ever,” you hiccup. “Please, baby, I’ll do anything for you but I—could—never handle that—” 
You’re tenderly hushed before lips slide over yours, attempting to swallow your thoughts and your sobs and your oncoming tears. As you flood his bed with apologies, Yoongi keeps wiping them all.
“I’m sorry.” 
“Nothing to be sorry for.” 
“I’m really sorry.” 
“Babe.” 
“You told me so many times—” 
“Breathe, angel.” 
You blink at the change in name, and it makes you focus just a bit stronger. Floating down from the precipice. 
“I wasn’t kicking you out,” he slowly explains, kissing sweat from your forehead. His words feel like a calm, rock-filled river over your eyes. “I felt like an idiot and hated you seeing me like this.” 
“Like what?” 
“Just… Like this.” 
“You’re perfect like this,” you hitch out, not caring about what flows out of your mouth. “So perfect. Always to me. I just wanted to help you, baby, I’m so sorry—” 
He hugs you so tight more tears squeeze out. 
And so do more confessions, “I… I care about you. I think a little too much. If I lost you, I wouldn’t—be able—” 
“I’m here.” 
“So please don’t push me away.” 
“I won’t.” 
“I know you don’t make promises but—” 
“I promise.” Without an ounce of doubt, Yoongi places a firm, lingering kiss on your temple. “Promise. Fuck.” As he holds you tight, you feel him shake before you hear the tiniest sniff at your ear. 
Oh. He doesn’t need to be like this, too. You try to move your hand up between your bodies to comfort him, but your whole limb feels gelatinous. So you simply whisper, “It’s okay, baby.” 
You can’t tell how long you lie like this, with his beautiful weight on yours. But time is irrelevant when your mind is unwinding from hours of whirring, starting to finally accept the fact that everyone is okay and you don’t have to be angry anymore. 
“Come on,” Yoongi rasps, voice cracked and airy. “Let’s go.” 
“Hmm?” 
“Shower.” 
“Oh. Okay.” 
You’re so thrown and dizzy from what just happened that even getting to the bathroom is a blur. What you kinda feel is Yoongi holding you upright when your legs buckle, but you don’t remember when he leaves your side to turn the water on. 
As he flips on the light, your eyes squeeze until they adjust, and you watch as he tests the water while fully clothed. Air conditioning starts to give you a chill, but the shower warms up just in time because he reaches out to guide you inside. 
Wait. Is he not joining you? Bleary, you grab at his shirt when he steps away, eyes pleading. “Are you coming in, too?” 
Yoongi stops before he gives a shake of his head. “I’ll take mine when you’re done,” he says through a slight smile. “We’ll take care of you first.” 
That doesn’t make sense. Even in your depleting haze, you know something doesn’t add up. “You can join me now. I don’t mind.” When you try to lift his shirt, Yoongi visibly flinches when you brush over his ribs.
And all the murk around your head vanishes in a snap. 
He kept his shirt on that whole time. Not once did your positions allow you to see his upper body fully. And now he’s not gonna get in the shower or take his shirt off? 
Your voice lowers two octaves when you reach full clarity. “Let me see.” 
Unblinking, Yoongi tries to back away, “Don’t worry—” 
“Let me see it, baby,” you command, breath cut until he finally allows you to lift his shirt up holy fuck those injuries look so painful tears prick your eyes. “Oh, my god, Yoongi—” 
“I’m fine.” 
“You’re hurt.” You feel these wounds deep in your ribs, and you tell him to get your kit what the hell he fucked you while feeling those? 
Attempting to alleviate your stress, Yoongi decides to strip fully and step into the shower, ignoring your pleas to grab your med kit and promising you can take care of him when you’re done washing up. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, doll.” 
“Are you sure?” 
“Promise.” 
And when his arms wrap around you, this is when you finally let go. Huge, chest-wracking sobs echo around tile, and Yoongi stays quiet through your cathartic release. 
There’s another reason you were so upset. And it has nothing to do with any of them, but with yourself. The main reason you’ve been so riled up and frustrated is because… This is technically your fault, too. 
But, unsurprisingly, he won’t let you take any blame whatsoever. 
“You got hurt cus I said to play.” 
“Nope.” 
“I wore the outfit that day.” 
“Doesn’t matter.” 
“And lost my friends at the club.” 
“No.” 
Sniffling in quick succession, you think about one other option. Some form of closure that can double as compromise. Voice soft, you suggest the last resort you have, 
“How about we share it.” 
Yoongi blinks twice before he clarifies, “You wanna share the blame?” When you nod, he huffs through the tiniest smile of confusion. “Mm. Then it’s our fault.” 
“Okay.” 
After shaking his head, he closes his eyes, molding his forehead with yours. “What are you doing to me.” 
A sniffle. “Wrecking your water bill.” 
His laughs join yours as you barely get your sentence out before giggling, and to feel him so close and present and here makes your worries slink down the drain. 
Hands trace down your arms, walking along falling rivers before creating ponds with your fingers intertwined. “Gonna clear me out someday.” 
“Duh.” 
He’s himself again. 
And after a whole night of chaos, you feel like yourself again, too. 
That’s all you both need to feel peace. 
-
-
You keep that tranquility carrying you through his room, peeking into his closet to grab the biggest shirt and sweats you can find before drying your head. 
But no matter how much water you can dry, your body will keep being washed in relief. And it’s the calmest feeling, watching as Yoongi does the simplest things near his bed. 
Your lips curve when he pulls up his pants; your heart beats when he grabs a tee. It’s in this moment that you admit that these outfits of his are your favorites, and you gravitate to him as he slips cotton over his damp head. 
“Come on,” you softly offer as you turn. “I’ll make food and get you some ice.”
Again, Yoongi just stares with a faint smile. But his eyes are alive again, so you’re more than fine if he just follows your lead without a word.
In the kitchen, you pause amongst the appliances, the cabinets watching as you utilize your phone to find a good recipe. “What shall we eat… Stew? Or, wait—” 
Looking up, you eye him in thought before choosing to focus on something else. “Actually, let’s figure you out first.” 
Opening yet another tab to add to your hundreds, you type away before selecting a good starting point. “Okay, let’s see. You’re breathing fine, so no bruised ribs. Umm…” 
Scroll, scroll. 
“It looks really bad there, though. You sure you can move right?” 
Despite asking, you go right back to your phone before Yoongi can even respond. Scrolling and clicking and reading again. 
Scroll, scroll. 
“Okay, so no bruised ribs, and according to this you don’t have any broken bones. And nothing fractured, either, thank god—”
“I love you.” 
Time bursts.
Your chest glows. 
Everything starts to beat, beat, beat in slow motion. 
And you don’t even feel like you’re in the room anymore. “…What?” 
You need to hear it again. You need to need to need to, because if you heard him wrong, you will check yourself and bolt right out the door. 
His eyes. 
Despite the battlefield on his skin, they are dripping, and sparkling, and full. The whole world suspends as he stares right into your soul, caressing it with his wounded hands and cradling it in his bruised arms. 
No matter how hard the moon will try—for years, and years, and years more—it will never outshine this single, shaken, solidified admittance. 
“I love you, doll.”
You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what to fucking do. 
Why is Yoongi saying this now? Why is he choosing now of all times to make you the happiest person in the universe? 
No. 
Happiness isn’t even close to what you feel and you’re pretty sure you’re crying but nothing makes sense and your vision plunges under sunlit waters. 
“And you don’t have to say anything. I know I don’t deserve to.” 
What?
“I can’t be everything you want. Or need. Or whatever the fuck I’m trying to say. But I just needed you to know because I can’t fucking fight this shit anymore—” 
You lunge forward before he offers his last syllable, careful to avoid his wounds and not mush his face because he would do the same for you. 
And it’s all too much tonight. The lingering fear, the dying anger, the floods of relief, the joy. You can’t stop your sobs from coming out in bursts, your whole body wracking with overwhelming emotion as he grits into your skin,
“Goddamn it, I—”
“Yoongi—”
“—so fucking much.”
Yoongi loves you. He’s here. He loves you, loves you, loves you and the beats of your heart pulse orange and blue, blue, blue. 
Nothing will ever compare to this moment. Nothing. You will bottle this one up in a jar to place next to all the others you have stored, and when you are lonely, or hurt, or even when you’re doing just fine, you will uncork it to surround yourself with this memory and know that everything will be okay. 
He loves you. 
Fuck, he loves you? 
You choke out his name with a sob, and he squeezes you even harder. When you can’t reply with anything else, he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, his tears taking root and blossoming into beautiful vibrant fruit all along your rib cage.
He loves you.
Why can’t you seem to say it back? What the fuck is wrong with your tongue?
Maybe it’s because saying it doesn’t feel like enough. Like it’s laughable that there are words for this feeling because they don’t nearly represent what you harbor in your very being for this man. 
There’s no way any words are enough. Not for him. Nor for you. Because right now, Yoongi needs something more. And you’re going to give him more than everything. 
“Yoongi, I—”
He captures your lips in his, and you let him push you against his counter and consume you everywhere he wants to. Between his claims, your sobs have room to breathe. Which makes for a horrible showing of your attempting to say what you want to. “I… I can’t… Yoongi—”
Fingers press into the back of your head, a forehead smushing into yours and shutting you up completely. “I’m sorry,” he says, words rolling down the tracks your tears have walked. “I won’t ever be able to say that enough.” 
“Baby,” you hiccup, resting a hand over one of his. “It’s okay.” 
“It’s not.”
“It is.” You squeeze his hand, feeling the lovely digs of his knuckles in your palm. His scent wafts around you like an embrace, and you know there’s nothing quite like it. At all. “You’re okay, so I’m okay.” 
After he plants a warm kiss on your temple, you feel his hands ball into fists at your ears. “I just—fuck.” 
There’s no telling what he’s thinking about in that brain of his. But you need him to know that there’s nothing more for him to be sorry for. All you care about is that he’s present, responding, and himself. 
“Babe,” you whisper, still not believing those three words coming out of his mouth. “I’m here.” 
“I know.” He sighs, smushing into your lips and holding you so tenderly, yet so tight. As he laps at your tongue, you’re more than sure he can taste your rainfall. 
None of this is real. Because you can’t believe it at all. Even as Yoongi continues his journey across your neck, your shoulders, your jaw, your face, you still can’t piece together that this is truly happening.
When you feel him hard on your pelvis, you remember that he didn’t get the same release you got earlier. But you’re not gonna be the one to suggest going again, all of this will be what he decides. 
And what Yoongi decides is to pull you closer, breathing you in while you do the same. His kisses are never ending, and your hands roam languidly along his shoulders, his hair, stretching across the expanse of his back. One that has held the weight of the world and then some.
His name leaves your mouth in a sigh, your back arching as softly as the kisses being planted along your breasts. 
“If you only knew,” he whispers, laughing to himself as he wraps an arm around your side.
“Knew what?”
“Nothing, babe.” You gasp into his next rough press to your lips. “You’re so—fuck.”
You said you’d let him lead. But as Yoongi starts to walk you into his bedroom again, you think about his injuries and feel more concerned after knowing they’re there. So you quietly stop him as you reach his bed, “Are you sure?” 
“I’ll be alright, doll,” he whispers, lowering you down and smiling so tranquilly your heart lurches. “As much as I think you enjoyed the first time, this time will be better.” 
Giggling, you fight the heat from searing your cheeks as you smile. “You enjoyed it more than I did, I think.” 
“I don’t think so.” Yoongi smirks, getting up. “Lemme get a cond—” 
“It’s okay,” you halt him with a hand, and he freezes. 
Full stop. No movement. Not even a breath. “...What?” 
“We don’t…” You swallow, stomach fluttering at his expression. “We don’t have to this time.” 
Because Yoongi’s eyes have not left your face. “You sure?” 
Then something causes you to smile. Knowing that if there’s anyone you want to do this with, it’s this man right here and now. There’s genuinely no one else in the world with whom you would wanna share this experience, and the fact that he’s still asking makes you emotional.
Cradling his face with the most tender touch you can imagine, you confirm, “Just for a little bit.” And you add something you think he needs to keep hearing. “I trust you.” 
Gulping down any extra emotions spilling from your heart’s chalice, your words come out a little wobbled. “And I want to, if you want it, too.” 
“I want what you want, doll.” 
“Then it’s okay.”  
Clothes on or off, you still feel so shy underneath him. 
But this time, you vow to shove those feelings of unworthiness to the side. Because you are fully invested in this moment above all others. And Yoongi deserves more than you can give. 
When he slowly tugs his sweats from your legs, you’re already choking back tears. As he climbs on top, you await the connection you never in your dreams would’ve imagined. 
And when Yoongi stares at you one more time, you know exactly what he’s asking. 
“Yes, my love,” you wisp into his skin, craning up to kiss him and swallowing his last slice of doubt. Knowing you’ll say it again and again and again. 
His brows pinch as he kisses you—slow, purposeful, understanding. Then he positions himself, and you can physically feel his hand brush your cunt as he does so. If he ever asks if you felt him shake, you will deny it. But only for a year or two. 
As soon as you feel him—only him, solely him—you swell with a current of emotion. And it pulls you all the way under when he’s fully sheathed inside. 
“Holy fucking shit.” 
“Yoongi—” 
“Fuck.” 
Simply having him inside, with no barriers or obstacles in between? You’re already close. There’s no early explanation, but you already feel overwhelmed enough to come. 
No no no. You want this to last forever, so you wait for Yoongi to gather himself because he appears to be fighting, too. 
Chuckling, you ask, “You good, baby?” 
And your lover snaps his gaze to your face, bangs sweeping across your cheeks and eyes unblinking. “Yeah, just...” He stares at your inquisitive expression before whooshing out a harsh breath. “Just this is about to make me bust.” 
You burst into laughter before admitting you were just thinking the same thing, and his slow grin makes you want to cry. “We’re not good at this.” 
“No. You’re too good at this. I can’t even move.” 
“Yes, you can,” you whine. “You wreck my shit all the time.” 
Feeling a twitch more prominent than ever, you giggle as Yoongi puffs out pained amusement. “Doll, if you keep talking like that, I’m pulling out.” 
“Okay, okay,” you surrender, loving how out of sorts he seems. He’s fighting for his life and you’re enjoying the hell out of it. 
“You’re a little too perfect right now.”
Maybe one day you will agree with him. But that day is far from reach, your head shaking in quiet disagreement.
“You are.”
“Nowhere close,” you whisper.
His nose brushes against yours. “Say that again and see what happens.”
“Is that what you tell all the others fuck!”
His shove up your cunt makes you see stars. “What did I fuckin’ say?” 
“What—”
Another launch has you careening through space, lip bitten and suppressing a hearty whine. “You think there’s someone else?” Again. “Hmm?” 
Again. 
You’re so dazed and mind-fucked to pieces that your speech is barely audible. But your chin is grabbed as you’re snapped straight, and your eyes try their hardest to focus on slitted ones above. “You’re gonna regret saying that.” 
You just laugh, whine pinging sharp into the ceiling as he shoves forward so hard your whole body shifts upward. “Oh, yeah?” 
Yoongi doesn’t respond with words, thrusting up again and sending you twisting and winding towards the edge unbelievably fast. “Uh huh.” 
“Make me then,” you gasp out. “Make me really sorry.” 
The sound Yoongi makes comes from deep within his stomach, the rumbling hum shooting right into your veins like liquid fire. 
And the full-on attack he bursts into renders you completely speechless. Everything Yoongi does pulls you deliciously in all directions—his thrusts, his chain hitting his chest, his grip on your wrists, the way he snags your chin. Everything. 
“Taking me so well like this.” 
“I—”
“So fucking tight.”
Fuck fuck fuck it’s habitual for you at this point, and you unhinge your jaw a split second before he smacks the side of your face. Desire lowers your lids halfway as you feel empowered, and you don’t even recognize your voice as you order him on the spot. “Do it again.” 
Yoongi doesn’t stop his pace as he keeps his eyes on you. 
“Do it again,” you growl, fully limp and a groaning mess when he does exactly what you want. 
Fuck, the pain feels good. So good that you reach up and choke him out. But the back of your head is grabbed before you feel hungry lips smash into yours. You feel your wrists pinned again by one large palm, air chilling for a moment before a hot mouth captures one of your nipples. “Oh, fuck, Yoongi!” 
“Uh uh.” 
“Please—please—” 
You’re still tensing as he devours your chest below his shirt, strokes now slower but just as powerful. 
Your arms still haven’t been freed, but there’s something about being under his control that has you loving this position. Without question. Maybe it’s the fact that you can see him now, losing himself just as he saw you washes in the throes of passion. 
And he licks, sucks, lolls his tongue all over your tits, whispered praises sinking through your bosom as he keeps a grip on your wrists. 
“Baby,” you gasp. “I’m close, I’m—” 
“Shit.” Air whooshes over you before you feel your arms freed and him yank himself out, and you freeze as he unloads right on your stomach, a sharp cocktail of pride and shock in your gut. 
Holy fuck, Yoongi was that close? Did he hold out as long as he could? Shit, he’s breathing so hard his jewelry shakes as it dangles. 
You’re still so surprised that your arms are still locked into bends, and he glances up at you from his kneeled state. “Fuck,” he laughs, and is that… Is Yoongi shy? “Thought I could hold out.” 
“No, no, it’s fine,” you assure through your own tiny chuckle. “Oh my god, I promise.” 
He leans down to plant a heart fluttering kiss on your lips, but you hate how he looks pained on the way down. 
Those hits he took… Now you kinda understand his perspective. Because now you want to avenge him in five hundred thousand ways—almost half as many ways as you want to show him how you feel. 
“Stay there, beautiful,” Yoongi orders as he moves to get off the bed, wincing in passes. “I’m not done with you.” 
Damn. He looks even more exhausted than before. “Baby, are you sure?” 
But Yoongi walks right to his bathroom to retrieve a towel, and your eyes may as well transform into hearts when you watch him come back to you. So handsome, even now. Even when he’s simply holding a washcloth, hair completely mussed, soul sparkling and face bruised. 
As he sits to clean your face before moving to your stomach, you can only observe his eyes. So experienced. Calm. At peace. When they drift to yours, it’s instinct that has you shying away. “What, love.” 
Another reason to crumble inside. “I just… nothing,” you whisper. 
And Yoongi finishes with the cloth before tossing it somewhere. “Tell me,” he says, lying down on the ribs with more damage. “I wanna know.” 
“Come on this side,” you tell him, and he obliges without a word. “It’s a secret.” 
“A secret?” 
“Mmhmm.” 
Yoongi settles before lifting your chin, rubbing an affectionate thumb over any tears still persevering on your cheeks. “I can keep those, you know.” 
Smiling, you fold way too easily. “Okay, I’ll tell.” 
When he leans in, your nervousness and excitement to tell him almost spoils your ability to do so. Like someone gifting a present while wanting to say what it is before it’s even opened. 
“I love you, too,” you whisper, tears sprinting to your ducts as Yoongi freezes. When he looks at you, you can’t help but choke on a sob seeing his eyes get as red as the marks on his cheek. “And you deserve more than I could ever give.” 
His eyes hold the heavens and the seas. 
You’re right. Just saying it isn’t fucking enough.
You’re already liplocked again before you can think, saltwater on your face and you don’t even know whose eyes it came from.
Determined, Yoongi starts kissing a trail from your lips to your jaw, and you start to cry as he makes his own journey down the expanse of you. 
All of you.
Is this what it feels like? Is all of this actually, genuinely real?
You hope so, because you feel devotion in each press of his lips, and every touch will be remembered in its own right. Its own pocket of time.
Every single stop.
It almost feels divine when his mouth reaches your folds, lapping at your essence and swirling around your clit. When you say his name, Yoongi says nothing, instead palming your thighs and eating you out like he has all the time in the world. 
Swelling, you already feel close. 
But the way he gets you to fantasia is so natural that you slide into your quivers seemlessly. The transition into your heaven flows like a stream, and your waves engulf his tongue and coat his mouth without trouble. 
This is what it feels like. What it feels like with Yoongi. 
And you wanna keep making love until only sleep can take you from him.
Your hands jut into his hair, gasping as he keeps his pace, and no matter how you squirm he is dead set on holding you down until holy fuck you’re coming again. 
How? What’s happening to you? This constant stream of release is shocking you to the point of crying out, and Yoongi groans into your orgasm and prolongs it with the whole press of his tongue.
“Holy fuck, baby—!” Another wave overcomes the next, and you outright quake in his hands, eyes rolling and vision blinking white. Muscles lock as you can’t keep up with the pleasure, and you’re mercilessly let go only for lips to descend on yours.
Your tears spill into your ears as you kiss him back, wrapping tired arms over his shoulders and raking in deep. 
“Fuck.” And you feel his cock lodge against your entrance, and you’re amazed how hard he is again. 
Does he want what you want? Is he ready again? 
As Yoongi quietly gets up to get a condom, you’re amazed that he wants to keep going after everything that’s transpired. But, if he feels like you do, he’s ready to keep going until the sun comes up three whole times. 
When he sits next to you, your better half appears shy as he bites the wrapper. “Don’t take this the wrong way.”
“Oh, I already know.”
“K. But god, I fuckin’ want to.”
You bite your lip to hold back your smile, remembering what he said a long time ago and bringing it back full circle for the next thing you both wanna try. “One day.”
Yoongi only grins. 
And for the next hour, your lover, your secret, your home gives you everything he has, and you come for him more times than you ever have in your life.
Every time, he drags your pleasure out, expertly tearing you down with his movements and building your confidence up with his words. He tells you you’re perfect, and he disagrees when you disagree. When you find tears on your face, he kisses those away, too. When you feel along his silver, he simply watches you in silence. 
No sadness, doubt, nor anger to be found. 
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After you physically can’t do any more, Yoongi lies at your side, silent as you play with his hair. You do your best to stay still, not wanting to accidentally push into any of his injuries that you’re gonna beg him to get checked in the morning. 
Once he’s healed? That’s when you’ll never let go. Because you want to crush him into you completely. Mold into him, just so he can feel the brevity of your highest affection. 
“I’m sorry for yelling,” you finally whisper. “But I really was so mad at you. All of you.” 
“I know.” 
“I don’t wanna lose you.”
“It won’t happen again.” 
“That’s what you said last time.” 
Yoongi stares, seeming to withhold something from you before he palms your cheek. “They were gonna follow us home if we didn’t, babe,” he reveals, snapping your heart back in two. “We all knew that.” 
“Oh, fuck.” Everything hits you at once: why they stayed, why you and Taehyung had to leave. Why Tae didn’t bring you straight back to the house. And the burns at your eyes match the searing in your gut. “I didn’t… I didn’t think about that.” 
When you start to cry, Yoongi sits up and hangs his head between his sweats. “You don’t need to think about shit like that,” he murmurs, sounding defeated as ever. “But we talked after you told us off. We won’t hide that from you anymore.” 
Sniffling, you whisper out a thank you. But you don’t want Yoongi to feel like he has to distance himself, so you untangle him—slowly, gently–-before bringing him into your chest. 
After dealing with all that and the tempest in his living room, this man still let you in. From the looks of things, there’s a lot that he had been fighting, and you’re more than appreciative that he opened his door. Not knowing how to put these feelings into words, you say the first things that come to mind. And for some reason, they feel heavier on the way out, 
“Thank you for letting me in. It was raining really hard.” 
Yoongi stiffens hard before holding you closer. 
“Babe?”
No response. Just another batch of weighted quiet. 
Worried, you tilt your head. “Hey. Look at me.”
If he stays right where he is, you’ll have to respect that decision. But he ends up pushing himself up, and as soon as you see moonlight catch on a falling tear, all your instincts reach for him, “Oh, fuck, come here.”
You surround him with everything you have, wanting every single bit of warmth birthed from his love to fill his space instead of yours. Whatever he needs, you will give. “It’s okay, baby,” you whisper, holding him so close but not nearly close enough. 
Never close enough.
His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you will let him live there whenever he needs to. “I’m not mad anymore, okay?” God, you hate how he’s still so silent. You get it, but you hate whatever made him default to this state. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”
After light rain fills the room, your soul breaks at a sniffle, and you crush your love even tighter.
“This isn’t about that, doll,” Yoongi finally whispers, burying wet eyes further into your shoulder. “It’s just…”
It’s what? What’s he thinking about? Hopefully it’s not anything—
“It’s so fucking better when you’re here.” 
When you choke out a sob, his body locks, words pouring from nowhere and everywhere. “I sleep better. Eat better. Fuck, I even feel better even if nothing else changes.”
“Yoongi…”
“It’s true.” Sighing, he sniffles again before letting his weight drop onto you in resignation. Or relief. “I mean that.”
“Then… Those three months…”
“One day, I’ll tell you everything,” he offers, making you wonder what the hell he’s been through in the past. And if it has something to do with that guitar he smashed to pieces. “But from now on, you can be here whatever you want.” 
Many things have shifted tonight. As if an earthquake had upturned everything between the both of you, only peace has settled in its wake. A peace you had never felt before. As you brush fingers through his hair, you joke, “So I can come to those parties you host, too?” 
“Those weren’t my idea, by the way. Jimin made me.” Kissing your shoulder, Yoongi continues to admit, “He was worried. And hoping you would show.”
Oh. That’s news to you. 
“I knew you wouldn’t. But.” He exhales before nestling in further. “I did hope to see you, too.” 
“It’s okay.” You rub the back of his neck, your fingers feeling nothing but warmth and the softness of his clothes. “It would’ve been too obvious.”
“What would’ve.”
“That I wanted you all to myself.”
“You already have that.”
When you stiffen, your words are tiny. “You know what I mean.”
Yoongi laughs soft, taking one of your hands in his and bringing it up for a kiss as you blurt, “My brother was the one that invited me. To come to those, I mean.”
The way he blinks is comical. “Huh.”
“I know.” It’s your turn to bring his hand close, kissing along his knuckles before you stare out the window behind him. “It makes me wonder if he knows.”
“What if he does?”
You snap your eyes right to his. “Does he?”
Yoongi watches your lips linger on his fingers before he tells the truth, “No.”
“Okay. But you’re sure I can stay?” 
“Who do you think you bought those groceries for?” 
Oh. Wait. “What?” 
Grinning so sly, Yoongi reveals the plan he had all along, “I get you for a week, right?”
Oh. Holy shit. You cannot quite possibly deal with what this man is saying. That whole time you were shopping for his list… No wonder he was already done with dinner when you got there oh you’re gonna get him back for that. 
Light bursts from your center as you grit out through a grin, “You sneaky little—” Pulling his tilted mouth in for another kiss, your heart pulses little pink stars as he leans in with a laugh, and you meet lips again and again until he slowly, reluctantly stops. 
“One day,” he murmurs out of nowhere, and you flick your eyes to his. “I’ll be better.”
Of course he will. You have no doubts. But, just like he always does for you, you’re gonna start offering the same reassurance out loud, even if he knows it’s there. 
And you can’t contain your little laughs at your own joke, despite him just staring into your face right after you crack it, “Don’t make it just one day, silly.” 
Even if you’re very serious, it’s in your nature to lighten things up. Especially after hearing such wonderful news for what’s coming. Clutching a little bit of his shirt, you whisper with complete devotion, 
“We’ll make it as many as we can.”
You hate how you feel him freeze, knowing what that means, what plaguing little thoughts are embedded in that tiny shift. 
Yoongi’s still hesitant to accept.
Because you are, too. In many ways. But this man has been picking you up and making you stronger day after day—in both his presence and absence—that you can’t help but fight to do the same. 
Does he ever think about you? Does he know that you’ll always be with him? No matter how close or far apart you are? You hope so. Because it’s so true that your heart is searing that promise into your soul, branding it as a reminder to reciprocate all this genuine love you’ve never been given before.
He loves you?
You still can’t accept that as fact.
…Maybe one day.
You chuckle to yourself, deciding to keep talking because Yoongi is still so very quiet. “At least. Until the day I get to meet my cat,” you huff in triumph. “Then I’m running away with her.”
It’s a perfect strike of a match. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” You pretend to pout. “But I’m starting to think she ran away already and you won’t fess up.”
Yoongi laughs so suddenly you flinch. After a playful scoff, he tries to make you feel better, “She’s still here!”
“Lies.”
“How much are you betting, doll.”
“How much are you willing to lose, babe.”
“This much,” he finally says, pinching your sides and hissing laughter when you scream. “Maybe I’ll make you leave after all if you’re gonna be a problem.” 
“You did threaten to kick me out before.” 
“Huh? When?”
“That day I showed up,” you remind him through a chuckle. Thrown back to that first night, you start to see all the parallels between then and now. And how vastly different things have become. “Said you were gonna kick me out for hustling you.” 
The glorious laughter from the depths of his belly makes you grin, and you cringe when his brows pinch in both laughter and pain. “I should’ve!” 
He needs to get those hits healed. “You really should’ve.” 
“Played me from the very start. You happy with yourself?” When you nod, Yoongi shakes his head. “Course you are.” 
“You love it.” 
“I do.” Your eyes meet, which proves dangerous for you because he bites his smirk before pulling you in for a kiss. “Thought I was gonna say it, huh.” 
“No!” You lie. Because no, you certainly were not! “…Maybe.” 
“Guess what.” 
Suddenly paranoid, you give him a look, already expecting to be tricked again. 
But Yoongi captures your lips without warning, curling your toes into sheets you’re now achingly familiar with. After a few passes, he shifts above, planting a hand at your side and letting his chain slide against your chest as he slots a leg in between yours. 
Yet again, you think about that first night, that first time. The first of apparently, surprisingly, wonderfully unexpectedly many. 
Who would’ve thought rain and a broken ego would bloom into something good? Who would’ve believed a person so close to your roots would be your home? 
As he lets up with one last slow stroke of his tongue, you whisper, “What were you gonna say?” 
At this, Yoongi spreads closed lips, taking his time planting a peck on your nose. “I just fucking love you, doll.” 
Oh. He’s a menace and the most annoying tease on the planet. 
When you can’t do anything but flee into his chest, Yoongi immediately laughs, forcing you back out of your little shell. “You can’t hide now, babe.” 
“I can!” 
Leaned forward in your struggle, you give him no choice but to swoop his head into your neck. Which backfires on you immensely because he decides it’s the perfect time to rasp deep against your ear, “I love fucking you, too.” 
His name flies out of your mouth in disbelief and embarrassment, and his heightened amusement puffs into the burning column below your chin. 
This is the moment something comes over you. Slams into you. Washes you in present nostalgia like lingering footsteps on a balcony. 
And it hurts. It really, really hurts. 
Instead of laughing along, you come down from your high, squeezing him like the pillow that couldn’t replicate his warmth for months. “I miss you.”
After a second, Yoongi questions, “How? I’m right here.”
You know that. You do. But with every hello there’s a goodbye, and you don’t want that this time. Especially now that your heart knows that his beats the same. 
Breathy and shaken, you rest your head in his chest, hoping he doesn’t hear but does at the same time, “I still miss you.”
Strong fingers weakly press into your sides, and while you can’t see him, you know for a fact that his smile is gone. Because he also knows goodbye is coming again, and you can’t stay here forever as long as this is all a secret. 
You feel a sigh wisp over your head before words that make no fucking sense follow it out, “I can’t do shit like this anymore.” 
…What?
No. No no no he can’t be done just like that you both just confessed everything you need to fight say something anything anything—
“I wanna do this the right way.” 
Oh. 
Yoongi’s chest… It’s shaking. 
Pushing yourself up, you search his eyes for answers. “What are you saying?” 
When he looks at you, there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Or maybe it has been there all along, and he only needed a spark to set it ablaze. “I’m saying I’ll tell him, doll. Just me.” 
Oh. Oh, shit. Didn’t he say not yet? Didn’t he say he needs more time? He said he’d figure it out what is with the sudden…
Your tears are automatic as Yoongi roams his gaze from one eye to the other, and he’s swallowing before taking a step. A step you didn’t think he’d make. One you didn’t have the courage to take yourself. 
When he utters the words, your soul lets rain fall just as the storm resides.
And right as moonlight shines through his blinds.
“I’ll tell him everything.” 
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tbc. :)
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so... how did it go! | join the server!
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a/n: so. here we are, over two years and 250k+ words later. thank you for sticking with me if you're still here, and thank you for being the most amazing readers a writer could ever, ever ask for. if you can interact or let me know what you enjoyed/like, i would be eternally grateful. these two parts took all of me, and i'm gonna take a break for a little bit before starting on the next part. a/n 2: thank you for also being here despite the highs and lows! things have really weighed on me for awhile, which prevented me from working on this part forreal. but my mental feels a lot lighter now, and i am ready to keep running with y'all. so thank you for your support and encouragement, no matter how you show it! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist
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