#yoongi f2l
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ALONE TOGETHER // MYG
you’ll always be his first choice
+
yoongi spends too much time convincing you to not be anyone’s second choice all the while he remains yours
pairing: (protective) best friend yoongi + oc
au/genre:
best friends to ???
crush au
fluff, slight, one-sided pining
warnings:
mentions of cheating
explicit language
feelings of being second choice
note: originally posted on @/meowachi ,, revised !!
🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @prdshobi @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns
There’s an unfamiliar tension that invades the space between you and him.
You’re fidgeting with your hands, trying your best to avoid eye contact. He’s here. Of course, he is. It’d be much more unlike him to not be. Yet, he stays silent, unable to pick a thought to express first.
You’re sitting on the edge of your bed as he stands, leaning against your door frame. You can’t really make out what his facial expression is, but there is a weight of disappointment that presses your heart. It all feels too heavy—all too real. It didn’t need to be like this but the days of your avoidance fell in vain as the recently confirmed rumours exposed every bit of privacy you’ve been trying to keep.
“Yoongi—“
“Don’t.”
He exhales heavily and takes a step forward. “I.. I should’ve known better. I should’ve been here earlier.. I could have been. If you let me, you know?” Yoongi gives you a puzzled look. It was as if he was offended at your lack of needing him. “... And that’s the part where I’m confused.. Why didn’t you call me?”
He makes the move first.
He sits next to you and places his hand on top of yours causing your fidgeting to stop. You look up and him and he feels like he was just punched in the stomach. Perhaps it was your tired expression and your dull eyes—whatever it was; it hurt to see you look the way you do now.
You move your hand away and shrug. “Does it matter? You’re here now.” You say in an attempt to lighten the mood. He glares at you, refusing to give in to your words. A moment of silence falls upon you two again.
“So.. How is he?” you ask Yoongi. Instantly, he groans in frustration.
Are you serious? Were you always this annoying?
“Jimin dumps you for the girl he told you not to worry about… And you’re asking if he’s okay?” Yoongi’s words feel like salt being rubbed into your open wounds. “Not to mention that he practically cheated on you.”
You look at him with a soft smile but no words come out of your mouth. What was there to say? It already happened. Were you supposed to beg Jimin to stay with you? How could you live with yourself, fully knowing you’re the second choice? How could you continue to love him truly if his wandering eyes never glance your way?
Jimin’s mistreatment towards you almost feels like a joke. Everyone had warned him not to fuck up. Everyone warned you to keep your guard up. It was just the nature of him and the fate for you. Now, here is your best friend in the entire world; incredibly angry for you. He barged into your apartment to be some sort of damage control.
The thing is; no part of you wants to admit how bad it really burns inside. You struggle to swallow your pride. But it is hard. It’s so fucking hard when you feel pathetic and useless. There’s no way you’d want to mix desperate in there.
It was your pride that stopped you from calling Yoongi. He was right and it was too embarrassing to cry over someone he had told you not to give the time of day. On the contrary, you still believe Jimin was a good boyfriend—a great one even! However, he had a life and impulsive decisions that contradicted his promises to you. You didn’t expect commitment or an incredibly long relationship with him, but you did expect honesty..
And perhaps, honesty is what he gave when he dumped you.
“He’s fucking amazing. He’s Jimin. Nothing really brings him down even if it’s his own bullshit,” Yoongi pauses and wonders if he should stop here. Should say the next part? He’s afraid they could possibly change your feelings. Could it? If it does.. Would it be for the better or worse?
“He asked about you, though.” Yoongi pauses, almost instantly regretting to speak up about this. maybe he should brush it off and leave it be.. This was his chance to protect you in a way.. Then, your eyes light up. Your eyes always light up this way whenever you have feelings for someone. It’s an observation Yoongi took the time to note.
Putting his feelings aside, he dismisses his hesitation and fixates on your happiness.
He should tell you. He has to tell you.
“He asked about you.. First. That’s how I found out.. He told me.” Yoongi confesses.
Now he feels sick.
He feels like he’s giving you false hope and making Jimin look humane when he’s such a villain.
Fucking shit does Yoongi really want you to hate Jimin.
Even if it was for a split second, he wants you to take a moment and feel a fraction of the rage he feels towards Jimin. His frustration, anger, and resentment should be yours. Yet, you’re you. You aren’t the type to get angry and regretful. You love what comes along and wish for the best when it’s time to let go. Rarely do you fall apart and therefore rarely do you need Yoongi.
He hates that.
“Did you hit him?” you ask softly, trying your best to mask your concern. You wish for a no. You wish for an answer that won’t make you feel like you’d have to choose between the two. “... You shouldn’t hit your friends.”
The corner of Yoongi’s mouth twitches.
“No,” he chuckles as you let out a relieved breath. “I didn’t hit him. Was about to… But I thought about it. Mid-swing, I realize you’d probably be madder at me than him.”
See, Yoongi has always been the nonchalant type. No one doubts how far his anger could drive him. Fortunately for everyone, he is a patient man. Nevertheless, his patience has a bad habit of fracturing whenever it comes to you. He always been protective of you. As for you; you expect better from him. You know he’s better than hateful actions.
“Jimin told me you said you wanted space… He thought you told me.. That’s why he brought it up. Then, when he realized I didn’t know—he went full defense mode.”
You sigh. “Keep me updated, yeah? Jimin is still a good guy. He is still your friend.”
“Not a very good one if he’s fucking my best friend over.” Yoongi snaps. “You need to stop letting yourself be treated so poorly.”
You laugh. “Noted.”
For a moment, you two are okay. For a moment, Yoongi isn’t pissed and you aren’t hurt. You sink into the cozy feeling and decide to carry the conversation into a different direction. “Anyways, how are you?”
“No,” Yoongi says sternly. “___, we’re not doing that. I’m here for you. You’ve been avoiding me. You’ve been cheated on and—“
“Yoongi, I know what happened to me. It’s clear that you do too. We’ve established it so you don’t need to repeat it,” you snap. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
He groans at you.
In response, you throw your hands in the air and roll your eyes at him. “See? this is why I didn’t call you. God, I knew you’d do this.”
Yoongi rolls his eyes, shakes his head, and almost laughs at you. “Do what? Worry about you? That’s kind of what a friend is for. This is called a friendship. Me communicating and trying to protect you—this is shit men do. Something Jimin—“
“Stop it. He did communicate. I just wasn’t his choice. End of story.”
“And that’s the dumbest bullshit he could ever pull. I mean, how could anyone not choose you?”
“To each their own.”
“Fuck that and fuck him,” Yoongi scoffs. “I choose you.”
Your eyes widen and so does his when he realizes the words that fell out of his mouth. What happens now? It’s such an odd thing to say, no? Yoongi has never said anything like this to you before. When you look at him, you see his gaze had softened and even if there was a slightly panicked look on his face… There was also an underlying sense of relief.
It’s as if he had confessed a secret.
You brush it off. Clearing your throat, you ask him; “A-are you done? Because I’m, uh, n-not in the mood for this. I don’t need you to—“
“To what? I didn’t come here to say ‘I told you so,’ ___. Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Then why are you here?” you huff, beginning to feel more and more defeated. “Just go, Yoongi. I want to be alone.”
“We can be alone together.”
It’s then when you look up at him, eyes watering and feelings on the edge of a cliff. You take a deep breath. Holy shit, you’re so tired of this. You stand up but he catches your hand and pulls your body into his embrace. Before you can protest, he holds you tighter.
“It’s me, ___. It’s us.” he comforts you. “Fall apart or go numb, whatever. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Unsure of what stirs in you—perhaps it’s the days worth of holding everything in—but tears begin to fall from your eyes. Your inhale is cut short and disrupted by a hitch and the ache in your chest. It takes over. It practically consumes you the moment you let it.
“I hate how you can j-just—how y-you can get me like this,” you cry, poking his chest passive-aggressively. Soon, your hands form a fist and you’re beginning to hit his chest as light cries escape your lips. As predicted, the louder you begin to break, the slower and lighter you hit him. When you come to a stop, he places his hands on top of yours. “I hate you,” you mumble.
He hushes you and holds you as you begin to tremble.
Yoongi moves the two of you into your bed. He wraps his arms around you as you cuddle up to him while you continue to cry. His sweet nothings calm your cries. He holds you tighter to calm you. His hands are placed patting the top of your head or rubbing your back. While he does all this, Yoongi wonders what it would be like to hold you in a totally opposite situation.
One where you’re happy and hung up on him. One where you don’t feel like shit and he’s just trying his best not to cross any lines.
After a while, you finally calm down. His arms and wrist felt a little numb, but it was worth it. He tucks his chin to take a peek at your state. Your eyes are puffy and your nose is a little red from the crying… But you look relieved. You look like you could rest tonight and if he’s not mistaken, you also look a little sleepy. The truth is; you just feel safe.
He does this so well. He holds you better than Jimin.
“I wanted to face it alone and deal with it.. Pretend like it didn’t matter and that I could handle it..” you say, eyes slowly fluttering closed. Your voice gets softer and sleepier. He hushes you, promising that you don’t need to explain yourself. “No, because… It’s like whatever I do.. I just feel so alone. I figured there was no point in calling you because honestly… I still feel empty with you here, Yoon. What do we do about that?”
He wishes he had an answer. Yoongi wishes he could find the perfect words for you and form some sort of metaphor that could change your perspective on everything. He should’ve majored in English Lit or something.
Although, he can’t say he’s not surprised or offended by how blunt you are. He knows you’re all about transparency. It’s probably why you’re still a little hung up on Jimin: he came clean. He had an honest conversation with you, which only complicated your feelings for him even more. Now, the issue wouldn’t just be on how you’d have to learn to unlove Jimin, rather it would have to do with your new perspective on honesty and trust.
Is honesty really worth it? Is it really that good? From the looks of it; maybe some things are better left in the dark.
Yoongi knows it’ll take time for you to adjust to the pain, but a big part of him wishes you could let him in more. After all, you can’t heal what you won’t touch, right?
So he lies there, wondering to himself when could he ever be enough for you. It confused him how you still felt alone when he was giving his all to be here with you. How much closer did he have to be to get to your heart?
Your face is buried into the crook of his neck. Your makeup was smudging over his shirt and his arms had already given out from holding you for so long still, he stays. He doesn’t dare move or feel the need to complain. This is what he gets—pieces of you that others leave behind.
No part of him gets it.
Yoongi will forever wonder why he’s the one who’s left to help you clean up when you could be with him and never need to feel like this. Don’t you know that you don’t need to be in a position of loving someone who gives you up like you’re a choice? Like you’re an option?
To Yoongi, there’s no choice when it comes to you.
That’s what he has learned from being friends with you all these years. The irony is that he'll spend hours unending trying to convince you that being a second choice isn't worth it.
Yet, that's what he is to you.
The worst part is that even if he had a choice, he’d still choose to be in love with you.
What do we do about that?
#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts writing#bts scenario#bts f2l#bts jimin#bts yoongi#yoongi fic#yoongi f2l#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst#bts angst#bts fluff#yoongi scenario#yoongi imagine#yoongi x yn#yoongi x reader#yoongi best friend#bts one sided pining#bts one shot#yoongi one shot
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Kitty Gang (Part 4)
Pairing: Agust D x Reader, Baby J x Reader
Genre: Cyber Punk Au, Unrequited love, f2l
Warnings: Swear Words, Blood, Sexual Themes, Drug use
Words: 2.368 Words
Note: Hi, I hope you like this part of my first fanfic!
The Party Agust meant was not like I imagined. In my head, he knows some shady people who are living in the streets of Nightlife City. People who are taking drugs to escape reality. People who look twice their age because the city makes them older but suddenly we were in front of a huge apartment complex. A tall building, illuminated by the surrounding buildings. Windows bigger than me, the cars parking in front leading to the conclusion that only the richest people can afford to live in this area. It was another world and it seemed like Agust was a part of it somehow.
„Don't emberres me okay, he is my best customer.“ Agust said.
„Woah Yoongi I didn’t know you would sell drugs to people who can actually afford your stuff.“ JK replied.
„Shut up kid.“
We went up the elevator. I was too stunned to speak. Part of it was still because of the job but the fact that I was never at a party like that didn’t help either. Sure I was clubbing from time to time but the safety of my room was more my thing. Yoongi had to feel that I was still not fully there so he held me close to him. The other boys were excited and talked endlessly.
„Just stay close to me, some guys don’t know how to behave.“ Yoongi murmured in my ear.
I just nodded. The elevator stopped at the penthouse.
We could hear the loud beats and the bass from outside but as soon as Yoongi rang the bell someone shouted: „Put the volume down! Maybe it's the police again!“
But when the man appeared at the door and saw Yoongi his face lit up.
„Agust D. Man, never thought you would really come to one of my parties!“ He said. „And you brought people too! Never imagined you had so many friends!“
Yoongi just rolled his eyes at this statement and shook the guy's hand. „Thanks for inviting me.“
„Sure thing D, anything for my favorite dealer.“
And with no time we had the time of our lives. V and Baby J danced in the crowd, already surrounded by beautiful girls and boys. Jin and RM were located in the open kitchen and talked with a drink in their hands, while JK flirted with a girl on the balcony, sharing a joint.
Yoongi had still a hand on my back while we walked to a fluffy-looking couch.
As we sat he asked: „how are you feeling?“
„I would feel better with a drink I guess.“
„No problem, let me chill for a sec then I bring you something.“
„Thanks, Agust.“
„Sure.“ He became quiet.
After a while, he asked: „Y/N do you want to leave us?“
I was stunned jet again. „Why would you believe that?“
„I didn't want to pry but I saw that you looked for a train ticket out of the city earlier this week, so I thought you wanted to go. Sorry.“
I remembered. When I stayed with him in his bed. I was sure he slept.
„No, I just was in my head and missed my hometown.“ I said. „I think you would like it there. It's peaceful and near the sea.“
„Sounds nice, promise to take me with you if you ever go back, okay? Don’t leave me here all alone.“
I grinned. „If you looked closely you already know, I wanted to buy two tickets. Even if I think, you wouldn’t be alone here too.“
He hid his face in my shoulder. He was embarrassed.
„Maybe not alone, but I only feel like myself with you.“ He raised his head and searched for my eyes. „You know, I sell so many drugs to people, I took so many myself but nothing hit me like you did.“
My heart stopped a beat and decided to speed up a second later.
„Yoongi, I…I think…“ I couldn’t form the right words to say. I wanted to tell him that I love the time we spent together, that I feel safe with him, that I want him with me forever. And maybe my heart already knew what I wanted but my mind was thinking about Jimin. Feelings were the hard stuff.
„Don't worry, we talk about it later. I get us a drink. Just wait here.“
And with that he was gone and I had time to look around.
The music was loud again and most people danced in the living room. Others were standing on the side and talked or kissed. The lights were dimmed and neon light in purple, pink and blue gave the apartment a dreamy glow. The furniture was white and black and expensive looking but the owner seemed not really interested that a girl was dancing on his marble kitchen counter with her high heels on. The owner sat in a big armchair by a window, he took a little red pill and rested his head on the backrest. Someone shouted: „I'm gonna punch you asshole.“
Agust was still gone. The people here didn't seem old, not like the folks on the streets.
Suddenly Jimin appeared next to me on the couch he looked high. Pupil big and smile even bigger.
„Isn’t that an amazing night, dove? So many beautiful things to play with.“
„I guess so.“ I replied quite. I was tired.
„Come on! You have to enjoy this part of the city as well if you always focus on the shitty things, you can’t become happy at all.“
„I don't know if I can, we will leave at some point and we have to face the shitty reality again.“
„Wrong, its not the reality that’s bullshit, it's your mindset. If you had money, what would you do? I tell you what I think, you would still sit in your room, your laptop in front of you and you would still hate the city. Maybe your room would be bigger, above the clouds so you can ignore what’s going on outside but that’s all.“
I thought about it, he was probably right but I can’t seem to be like him. What’s wrong with me?
„Love, don’t think, just feel for a moment, focus on the music how your heartbeat is reacting to the bass, focus on the sweet smell of all the smoke settling over us.“ He gave me a baby blue pill. „Focus on me.“
He looked me deep in the eyes, they were smiling like his whole appearance.
„You are so fucking high.“ I told him with an unimpressed expression.
„So what? You could too. We could live in the same reality for one night.“ He shrugged his shoulders. His eyes never stopped watching me.
„Fuck it.“ I said and before I could think too much I swallowed the pill.
Jimin laughed and I felt my heart beating to the beat of the music for a moment, then I joined Jimin in Wonderland. Everything was so much louder and I wished Yoongi would be here with me. I wanted to see his gummy smile so badly.
Jimin was on his feet and dragged me with him on the dance floor. V was still there. He hugged me when he saw me and jelled over the music: „Now you finally a real part of the Kitty Gang!“ He looked proud and I smiled. He spun me around and now Jimin was in front of me. He looked like an angel and a demon at the same time. When he took my hand in his and guided my body to dance against his I felt free.
Yoongi came back to the couch just to find it empty. He panicked. He blamed himself for leaving you alone and he blamed Namjoon and Jin for stopping him coming back faster. He had a million scenarios in his head about what could possibly happen to you but he hoped you were just with someone from the gang.
„Fuck!“ He cursed and stepped into the crowd.
In the meantime I danced with Jimin, it was hot in the room and my body was even hotter. I tried to open my eyes but they were sleepy, my mind was wide awake. It was hard to think of something else than Jimin. The room spun upon me, I'm gonna fall, I was sure about that. Fall...fall down the rabbit hole, but Jimin was there to catch me. „Stay with me bunny. The night just begun.“ Es whispered in my ear. „Let's get us out of here.“
„Tell Yoongi that we are going home.“ I
„Tch, I help you to forget everything else but me.“
And with these words, he put his lips on mine. It wasn’t how I imagined our first kiss. I thought it would be full of affection and with butterflies in my stomach but he worked fast and his lips were first on my lips but soon he traveled to my ear and then my neck. He bit me playfully. V cheered next to us. His words were just mumbling to me.
Jimin stopped abruptly and took my hand. Then he told V: „ If you see Yoongi, tell him I bring Y/N home, she is done.“
V just winked at us.
After a while Yoongi stood on the balcony, cigarette in his mouth and eyes closed, he looked everywhere and asked everyone he knew. The only ones he didn’t find were Jimin and Taehyung. Maybe they took her with them but nobody was answering their phones. He was tired.
But the moment he wanted to go back inside, Taehyung stepped into the cool air next to him.
„Hey did you see Y/N? I lost her?“
„Yeah, but don’t worry, Jimin brought her home. She was high as fuck.“ He replied.
„You tell me I shouldn’t worry when fucking Jimin is with Y/N?“ Yoongi almost yelled. He panicked again.
„Chill, they went home.“
„Fine, I’m out. Bye.“
„Hey, let them have some fun.“
But Yoongi was gone. He didn’t care about the people he pushed out of the way, or JK who wanted to smoke with him. He was too far gone.
And as he arrived home, Y/N came out of the bathroom, with a lazy grin. She waved at him, happy to see him, but he only saw the red marks on her neck. Was he too late?
Worst decision I decided on ever.
I told Agust that Baby J kissed me at the party just a few seconds ago and that he was now waiting in his room. He is waiting, because he wants me, just me. I felt like flying and dancing and all that shit people always talk about in movies.
Yoongi didn’t smile at all. I thought he would be happy for me, just a little bit but right now his face was grossed out.
Was there something I missed, something I can't remember?
„Y/N can’t you see that he just wants fun for one night, he’s not serious!“ He spoke through gritted teeth.
„Maybe that’s okay with me! I can have fun too!“ I shouted. Why did I shout?
„We both know that you have feelings for him, but you are stupid and can’t see that he just thinks you are cute and an easy fuck.“ He answered coldly.
I couldn't believe that he said things like that, I thought we were friends. Why was it that hard to accept that someone like Baby J was interested in me.
The neon lights of the outside world lighted up the dim apartment. Agust's face looked even more closed off than before.
I was angry but decided to ignore him. I pushed him out of my way. Ready to enter Baby J's room.
Agust tried to stop me. He put his hand on the handle and blocked the door.
„Please Y/N. You just get hurt.“ He looked me in the eyes. „I feel that something is between us and it's from both sides, so please let us explore that feeling some more. Maybe…“ he stopped and shook his head like he couldn’t think straight. „Maybe you and I are made for each other, maybe it's you and me against this fucking city and you are just so focused on Jimin because he gave you a new chance. Please try to listen to your heart.“
At that moment Baby J opened the door and watched between us for a while. Then he smirked and asked: „Yoongi do you wanna join? I wouldn’t mind. But please hurry, I'm getting cold all by myself.“
Yoongi let go of the door and backed off. I looked at him for a second but got going into Baby J's room. As soon as the door went shut, he kissed me.
And while he pressed me against his door, I heard the front door went shut. Yoongi left the apartment.
Baby J worked fast and hard. His pillowy lips ghosted along my jaw and my neck. Soft moans escaped me and I could feel his smile against my heated skin.
My body started to feel weak and Baby J took the change to take me to the bed.
„Jimin, I'm so happy, I liked you for a while now. I never thought you could feel the same.“
„Of course I like you. We make great partners don’t you think?“
„Partners? Like a couple right?“
„Couple? Love, I like you, I really do…“ he began to stock. I have to admit that I never heard him being loose for words but I also didn’t want him to have to look for the right words now.
„Listen Y/N, I see you and I am happy, I wanted to get you out of that little shell of yours since I saw you the first time and I really want to feel you right now but I don’t do relationships. I…I could never stop falling in love with a million random people in a week. Kiss men and women, left and right and it wouldn’t be fair.“
„Why did you kiss me then?“
„Because I wanted to.“ He answered.
Shit.
I couldn’t stay any longer. After a second of processing what just happened I left and went into my room. I felt nothing. No grief, no anger, nothing.
I screamed into my pillow.
I fucked up.
Baby J just sighed and called V. He would never waste a night.
#bts fic#agust d#min yoongi#baby j#park jimin#agust d x reader#yoongi x reader#jimin x reader#yoongi f2l#kitty gang#cyberpunk au#bts x reader
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Nothing Feels Better | myg
- min yoongi x reader; fluff (friends to lovers)
warnings: none
- word count: 1.4k+
- summary: who knew that all it would take for Yoongi to confess are some tulips and you wearing one of his t-shirts
-a/n: this simply was a spur of the moment, random drabble that came about lmao but i hope you enjoy! also this yoongi is inspired by long haired yoongi that we’ve been seeing lately (I LOVE HIS LONG HAIR SM OK) anyways I’ll edit tomorrow, so i apologize if there’s any typos. enjoy :)
also, i recommend listening to the song: “Nothing Feels Better” by pinks sweat$, it’s just such a fluffy song
inspired by the prompts:
“I just wanted to make sure you’re ok”
“is that my shirt?”
“You’re lucky you’re cute.” “Wait, you think I’m cute?”
---
You sigh as you take off your shoes and drop your keys on your entrance table. Today was a long, exhausting day at work. You had it seemed, a thousand meetings, one of which didn’t go all too well. Your clients were being unnecessarily rude the whole hour of the meeting. On top of that, you barely ate today and you were just mentally and physically exhausted, your bones feeling so heavy.
You shuffle to your bedroom, stripping down only to your underwear, then make your way to the bathroom to shower. You need to wash the stress of today off your body, cleansing yourself. Luckily, it was Friday, so that means you have two days to recoup and relax. In fact, your best friend Yoongi, was supposed to come over tonight for pizza and movies, a weekly tradition between the two of you. However, earlier you asked to do a raincheck, stating that you weren’t feeling well.
He has a similar job to you, so he understands the pressure and stress that comes with it. You two met at work, both started at the same company, the one you’re still working for. You quickly became friends, and have been best friends ever since.
You were devastated when he decided to leave the firm, on to bigger and better things. Were you a little bitter he was leaving you? Yes, but you were also so so happy for him that he found a job that paid better and had better benefits and just overall, better. So, while you were still moping that he left, it’s been 2 months already, you were also so proud of him. It comforted you that his new job was secure, and right up his ally of what he wants to do long-term.
You were already texting Yoongi throughout the day, after every minor or significant inconvenience that plagued you, so he wasn’t overly surprised that you canceled on your pizza and movie night.
Stepping out of the shower, you feel much better. The stress of the day going down the drain along with your body wash. You even washed your hair, making you feel 10x cleaner than before. You quickly do your after-shower routine and slip into a comfy oversize t-shirt and some pajama shorts.
You’re just about to pour yourself a glass of wine when you hear your doorbell ring. That’s weird you think, I didn’t even order takeout yet.
You pad over to your door and look out the peephole, sighing in relief when you recognize the mop of hair standing in front of your door.
You open the door to see Yoongi softly smiling down at you, with a bouquet of flowers in his hands as well.
“You got me flowers?”
“Is that my shirt?”
You both ask at the same time, chuckling as you realize.
You let him answer first, prompting him with a raise of your eyebrows and a slight grin adorning your face.
He extends his hand out with the flowers, “Yeah, these are for you. Tulips are your favorite right?”
You smile and take the flowers, your cheeks warming and heart glowing at his kind gesture. He remembered my favorite flowers? How sweet. “Yeah, tulips are my favorite, thanks Yoongi. You didn’t have to.”
He waves his hand, “Yeah, yeah, I know. I just wanted to make sure that you’re ok.” His eyes rake over your face, looking for any sign that you’re still upset, still sad, hell, anything.
You smile softly at him, appreciating the gesture. “Well, again, thank you. Here, why don’t you come in so we’re not standing out in the hallway.” You slightly chuckle, stepping aside to let Yoongi in through the door.
You make your way over to the kitchen to find a vase for the tulips.
“Hey, you never answered my question.” You can feel the smirk that is on Yoongi’s face and your cheeks warm, still turned around from him as you remember what he asked you. You busy yourself with arranging the tulips in the vase.
“So, is that my shirt, y/n?” You turn to face him, and you were right. He’s smirking at you with his stupidly buff arms crossed over his chest, as he waits for your reply.
You bring the vase over to the island, and place it down. “And what if it is?” You look at him with a challenging stare, not backing down.
He continues to smile at you, before uncrossing his arms and placing them on the island counter, leaning towards you. The veins in his forearms are exaggerated by the kitchen light and you try not to let your stare waver, but c’mon it’s hard!
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Did Min Yoongi just call you cute? There’s no way. He’s never this flirty with you. This has you faltering, not sure what to say.
“Wait, you think I’m cute?”
He rolls his eyes, which you also think is hot. What is wrong with me? You focus your attention back on Yoongi.
“Oh, c’mon y/n, do you think I give everyone their favorite flowers after they’ve had a long day?” His question has you faltering again, not sure what to say as your best friend stands across from you, asking you questions that you never seem to be able to answer.
“Well, you are such a kind person, I wouldn’t put it past you.” Your answer has him rolling his eyes again, never being able to catch a break from you.
“Stop being ridiculous y/n, and come here.” Yoongi moves to sit at one of your barstools, as he waits for you to come to him.
Fireworks shoot down your spine at his tone, at his request that you come to him. So, you do just that, and make your way over to your best friend, sitting down at a bar stool next to him.
He takes one of your small hands in his, and looks up at you with nothing but honesty and sincerity in his dark eyes.
“Y/n, I’ve liked you for some time now, well actually loved you for some time now. I’m actually surprised you never caught on. But yeah, I’ve always been head over heels for you. You’re my best friend after all.” He lets out a small laugh after his confession, almost as if he can’t believe he did it, told you how he really feels. It’s not like this was his plan, to come over tonight and confess, it just sort of happened.
He looks at you as you take it all in- his confession, his hand in yours, his everything, him.
You’re looking down at your hands, and that’s when he notices a couple of tears streaming down your cheeks. You look up at him before he can say anything else, and smile. You smile at him, with tear-stained eyes, but he can tell you’re happy.
Your thumb starts to rub back and forth across his knuckles, and you squeeze his hand.
His other hand comes up to gently wipe the tears off your cheek, and wipe under your eyes. He then gently tucks your hair behind your ear and runs his fingers through your soft hair as he waits for you to reply. He gives you an encouraging smile as he does this, making your heart flutter.
You’ve realized that Yoongi is the epitome of comfort. Always lending out a hand for reassurance, making you feel safe and secure. That’s what he’s doing now as he lets you absorb everything from tonight. He comforts you in the ways he knows you need it, through soft touches and soothing words.
“Sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You laugh lightly at how ridiculous you must look, but when you peer up at Yoongi, there’s no judgement in his eyes, only love.
He keeps running his hand through your hair, comforting you with his tender touches, waiting for you.
“I guess…I just love you so much, and I can’t believe you feel the same way.” You smile at him again, looking into his eyes, that hold so much love and adoration for you.
“Come here,” Yoongi softly says, and pulls you into his arms. He gently kisses you, and there’s a dull warmth that spreads across your body, and from your toes to the very top of your head, you feel warm, safe. He then pulls you further into him, into his embrace and hugs you tightly.
You don’t know how long you stay together, hugging each other, now as lovers instead of friends, but you do know, that nothing feels better than this.
---
masterlist
#yoongi x reader#yoongi x you#yoongi x y/n#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi fanfic#yoongi fic#bts fic#yoongi fluff#min yoongi fluff#bts fanfic#nothing feels better#allthelovefromstylesxx#friends to lovers#f2l#yoongi f2l
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the lingerie era | myg
🦋pairing: neighbor!yoongi x reader (f)
🦋genre: smut, fluff, f2l, neighbor!au, childhoodfriend!au, best friend’s older brother, lingeriemodel!reader
🦋summary: Sending Min Yoongi, aka your ridiculously hot neighbor/childhood friend, a photo of yourself in lingerie might be the best or stupidest mistake you’ve ever made.
🦋word count: 10.1k
🦋warnings: fingering, oral (m receiving), corruption kink, gagging, deepthroating...? rough sex w/protection, implied masturbation (m), light degradation, the way oc becomes a slut for his cock so quick, yoongi touches boobies, nipple play, dirty talk, yoongi teasing reader for 4263 years straight bc he's mean
a/n: this is the extended version of the airdrop incident! if you haven't read that drabble already, it's fine bc that scene is included in this one!💖
An onlooker might be wondering why you’re standing outside your neighbor’s door at ass o’clock in nothing but an oversized tee, but the answer is simple. Mistakes were made. You’re an idiot.
Approximately five minutes ago, you thought it’d be cute to send your best friend Mo a photo from your first day at your new job. But it wasn’t just any photo. It was a photo of you in strappy black lingerie, lying on beige silk sheets all glowy and oiled up. You’re gazing up into the camera lens like it’s the dark eyes of a man about to rail you.
As weird as it sounds to be sending that kind of photo to your best friend, you’ve known her your entire life and she’s always been the number one supporter of your modeling career. In fact, she’s the one who bugged you for the pics in the first place.
You have no regrets for wanting to share the photo with your best friend. You just hate yourself for thinking it’d be fine to AirDrop it since she lives right next door. In your defense, your company is paying for your work phone—the new iPhone—and you were eager to play around with all the random features you won’t otherwise be using. Besides, AirDrop has a small range and Mo is your neighbor, so it was the perfect opportunity to test it out. In theory, she would’ve received the photo no problem—if she were actually home.
But Mo wasn’t home. You’d realized that too late after the AirDrop had gone through to someone else. Mortified is an understatement of how you felt when she sent a text saying, “GIRL;;;; I’m at Namjoon’s place rn;;;; I am NOT in AirDrop range🥲”
For a good two minutes, you were convinced it must’ve been some creepy stalker who’d accepted your AirDrop… or the sweet elderly lady who lives across the street and occasionally drops off a tray of baked goods. You could totally see her accidentally accepting the AirDrop, only to be blindsided and violated by that photo of you. There’s no way in hell you’ll be able to return her sparkly red reindeer platter from her last cookie delivery. Not after she’s seen you like that.
But then an even darker thought came to mind. And you’d take creepy stalker or innocent granny over that any day.
That’s how you ended up on your neighbor’s doorstep at ass o’clock.
After letting you stand out in the cold for a whole ass minute, he finally answers the door. “He” as in Min Yoongi, your childhood friend slash nemesis, the older brother of your best friend, or, in the simplest terms, your hot neighbor.
And when you say “hot,” you mean really hot. Your innocent little crush on him was cute when you were ten, but the admiration has since evolved into pure lust. You’ve admittedly thought about him in ways you should not be thinking about a childhood friend let alone your best friend’s brother.
Whenever you catch a glimpse of his big hands, you wish they were on your body, you wish his long veiny fingers would curl inside you, and the tiniest part of you wishes he wasn’t someone you had a long history with. You always feel like you have to be on your toes around him because of that history. Because you know it can all fall apart with one wrong move—like accidentally sending him a suggestive lingerie photo. Oops.
“Yes?” he raises a brow, staring at the way you’re shivering outside his door, the way your perky nipples are most definitely poking through your shirt. You’re sure he sees it all. But given the fact that he’s practically seen you naked, you don’t even bother covering up. What’s the point?
“Did you, by chance, get an AirDrop like five minutes ago?” you get straight to the point. It’s fucking freezing, after all. He could’ve at least asked you to come inside for a sec. You would’ve declined to avoid the risk of temptation, but still.
“Depends,” he hums, eyes still very much on your chest. The boy has no shame apparently. You’re pretty sure he’s dating that pretty brunette you’ve seen sneaking in and out of his house lately, so why’s he looking at you like that? “What was the AirDrop?”
“A picture of me,” you mumble. It was freezing a minute ago, but now your face feels hot. That’s weird.
“Hmm, not sure if the one I’m thinking of is you or not.” The bastard puts on his most exaggerated thinking face—like that emoji with the hand on his chin. You hate him. “What were you wearing?”
“Nothing!” you squeak at him. Both of you know no one fucking uses AirDrop except old people. He’s obviously playing dumb and knows what’s going on. He just wants to hear it from your mouth to make his ego bigger than it already is. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“Pretty sure you were wearing something…” he furrows his brow, unlocking his phone to “confirm” what he saw. You snatch the phone out of his hand, but he seems to remember the contents of the photo just fine. “Ah, yes. Black strappy lingerie, right? I didn’t know you were like that, Y/N.”
“Fuck you,” you hiss as you scroll through and search for the picture in question. AirDrop must have its own stupid section on the phone because you can’t find it anywhere.
“Relax, I already deleted it,” he chuckles at how determined you are. You’re not falling for it. Surely he’s already leaked the photo on OnlyFans. You don’t have a whole lot of faith in Min Yoongi. He’s never been The Nice Guy. “Who were you trying to send it to?”
“None of your business.” He has a girlfriend, after all. Why should he care about who you’re sending those kinds of pictures to?
“My sister?”
“Fine. Yes, her.”
“You’re sneaking around sending nudes to my sister? On AirDrop?” he narrows his eyes. Why does he seem more disgusted at the AirDrop part? You’d laugh if you weren’t so stressed. “She’s in a very committed relationship, you know.”
“I’m aware.” You don’t know what’s worse—him thinking you’re hitting on his sister aka your best friend, or admitting the pic was from a photoshoot for your new job. There are no winners here. Might as well come clean. “She’s the one who asked for pics so she could fangirl over her lingerie model best friend.”
“My little Y/N grew up and became a lingerie model?” He tilts his head, intrigued. He might’ve deleted the pic from his phone, but you bet the image is forever ingrained in that fuckboy head of his. You wonder how his girlfriend feels about him thinking of other girls in that context. You’d feel shitty. He’s a horrible boyfriend. “In that case, I’d also like to show support. Mind if you send the pic ag—”
You cut him off with a growl. His eyes slowly work their way up your bare legs to your chest to your death glare.
“I kid, I kid.” He waves his hands like a white flag so you don’t pounce on him. But then something occurs to him. His smug look turns into a frown. “Wait, so AirDropping it to me wasn’t ‘an accident’?” he asks with air quotes.
“No, it was a real accident, Yoongi,” you scoff. You can’t believe he thought you’d intentionally sent that pic to him. He’s so full of himself. He’s the last person you’d ever want to see those pics.
“Well that’s no fun.”
“Elaborate.”
“It would’ve been kinda cute if you did it to get my attention,” he shrugs, leaning his head against the doorframe. “Just like when we were younger. Remember how you’d always tug on my arm and pout until I acknowledged you?”
“No, but it’s kinda weird that you remember it.” You finally cross your arms in front of your chest. “It’s also kinda weird that you want my attention when that’s what your girlfriend is there for.”
“It’s kinda weird that you keep up with my love life and know I have a girlfriend,” he fires back at you in his usual arrogant tone. “I’m breaking up with her, by the way. Just in case you wanted to know.”
You pause the petty war for a second. Min Yoongi is breaking up with his girlfriend because you accidentally sent him one (1) risqué photo of yourself? To be fair, you do look pretty hot in that photo. But still! You’ve known the guy your whole life, and all it’s ever amounted to was banter with a hint of feelings and dirty thoughts on your end. You’d always assumed Yoongi thought of you as nothing more than his little sister’s friend. Surely he’s just toying with you right now. Because that’s what fuckboys do.
That’s what Min Yoongis do.
“Good to know,” you nod, the cold breeze coming back. You better leave now before you do something stupid again. Stupid AirDrop. “Well, I’m gonna go now. It’s fucking cold.”
You drop his phone into his palm, your fingers grazing his in the process. They’re so warm. But your fluffy blanket is warmer. And it’d never betray you.
“Thanks for only being a slight dick about the pic,” you say, scurrying off to your doorstep.
“Anytime,” he smirks. Asshole. “I’ll AirDrop you later.”
“I don’t want your dick pics, sir.” You hear his laugh before closing the door.
A minute later, you get an AirDrop of what you hope is not in fact a dick pic. You accept it immediately. It’s a blurry selfie of him on his bed, flipping you off with an emphasis on how much extra mattress space he has. That has to be the quickest breakup of all time. They don’t call him a fuckboy for nothing.
He accompanies the selfie with a simple text:
Yoongi🗿 [2:03AM] “Your loss”
The rest of the night is spent staring at the extra space next to him on his bed. He’s taunting you. Teasing you. Tempting you to do something you’ll surely regret. Well, you’re not taking the bait. The accidental AirDrop was an honest mistake, but this one would be all on you. Because you understand the risks.
It’s best to keep things how they are between you two.
After a night of tossing and turning, your week somehow gets worse. Your car decides to malfunction fifteen minutes before you’re supposed to be at work. You swear it was working perfectly yesterday. Then again, you don’t know shit about cars.
Your first instinct is to call Mo. You like to think of yourself as a prepared person, but shit happens. And when shit happens, Mo is your person—your one phone-a-friend. But you know she’s with Namjoon, and you know she’d drop everything including him for you—you’d do the same for her. You’d rather not be a cockblock when things are going so well for them.
Alternatively, you would’ve borrowed your parents’ car, but they moved into a nicer place a few years ago and reluctantly left you behind after a lot of convincing on your end. You can handle yourself, you told them. And it was going great—until The AirDrop Incident happened and your car refused to start up for no fucking reason.
Uber and public transportation are other options, but you don’t have time to wait for those rides to arrive. You need to leave in the next 30 seconds or risk being late. Your new job is on the line here.
And that’s why you find yourself, once again, at Min Yoongi’s doorstep. You hate it here.
He opens the door and blinks his heavy lids at you several times before saying anything. Poor boy. The morning sun is too bright for him, like a cat waking up from its first nap of the day. And yet, he still manages to look so attractive with that messy hair and furrowed brow. You bet the raspiness in his voice is even more seductive in the morning. It is.
“Are we really doing this again?” he asks, pointing his finger back and forth between you and him. At least he’s awake enough to realize shit like this shouldn’t be happening two days in a row. You’re sick of it too.
“I need to be at a shoot in like ten minutes, and my car is fucked up right now, so…” You wish the boy would finish the sentence for you, but he’s just standing there like a smug ass. You’d shove him over, but you’re going to be late and he’s your only option. So you swallow your pride, just this once. “Do you think you can give me a ride?”
He makes some sort of grunt and says, “I’ll be out in a sec,” before shutting the door in your face. You’ll take that over the teasing you were expecting. Must be too early for the banter.
As soon as you get into his car, you realize you were horribly wrong. The false sense of security got you good. Apparently, it’s never too early for banter.
“What would you do without me, hm?” he asks, looking more awake and alive than ever before. Glowing, even. You knew it. He gets a kick out of you needing his help. He’s always been like this. One time when you were seven, your dumb ass climbed up a tree and got stuck up there like a cat. He’d only helped you down after you begged him for ten minutes straight. And although he stood right below you to break your fall in the unlikely event that you slipped, he also had a big fat smile on his face the entire time. He’s the worst.
“I’d manage.”
“I’m sure you would, Y/N.” He doesn’t sound very convinced. Kind of like your parents before they agreed to trust you on your own. “So, what’s this about lingerie and modeling?”
“Got a problem with it?” you challenge him. The very reason you haven’t told anyone else about your job aside from your best friend is that fear of judgment. As far as your parents know, you do modeling for a trendy clothing brand (you do). They just don’t know about your side hustle. You’re sure a guy like Yoongi has no problem with it, though. In fact, last night he sounded awfully eager to support your new job because it just so happens to center around two of his favorite things—tits and ass.
“Not at all,” he hums. “Just curious how it happened.”
“My ex had connections to the company,” you say.
“And you dumped him after he got you a job?” He raises his brow and laughs. What’s he so amused about? “Kind of savage, Y/N.”
“Actually, he broke up with me,” you correct him. How dare he assume you’re the savage one.
“Why would he do that?” he asks, as if it’s not normal for people to break up. Maybe it’s just his protective gene kicking in. He was the same way when he heard about your first breakup years ago.
“He said I wasn’t giving him enough,” you shrug. You’re honestly not too upset about it. It’s not like you had enough time to get attached to him anyway.
“Giving him enough what? Head?”
You glare at the boy even though you really want to laugh. He’s not entirely wrong.
“Sorry.” He does a quick glance at you as he turns the corner. Still smiling, though. “Well, if I had to guess, it had something to do with you playing hard to get.”
“I do not play hard to get,” you say with a firm hmph.
“You’re certainly not making it easy now,” he frowns. Okay, maybe he has a point. But in your defense, the trait rubbed off on you from Yoongi himself. You spent your entire childhood chasing after him and wound up with nothing. You worked your ass off for any sort of reciprocated feelings from him, only for him to continue to treat you like an annoying child as you both grew older.
By the time college came around, you were tired of doing all the chasing and thought you’d finally outgrown that neediness for him. You told yourself it was better that way, to keep him as nothing more than a bittersweet childhood memory. And you moved on. For once, you just wanted to be desired and admired by someone as deeply as you’d felt for Yoongi.
And when you think about it, all of your past relationships might have relied too much on the thrill of the chase. You never thought about what came after. You never envisioned a future beyond the chase. That’s why those relationships were so quick to fizzle out. You didn’t give them a reason to stick around.
You didn’t give them enough.
Yoongi unlocks the doors as he pulls up in front of the building for the shoot. You unbuckle your seatbelt and thank him on the way out like he’s your Uber driver.
But then he goes off script. “When should I pick you up?”
You weren’t expecting a ride home. After your car died on you, you’d immediately changed from your cute ankle boots into sneakers in preparation for the long walk home after work. In fact, you would’ve opted to walk to work too if you had enough time. Like you said before, you can handle yourself just fine. Ever since you found your footing as a model and started living alone, you’ve stopped relying on anyone else.
“No need. I’ll walk home,” you gently decline, kicking your white sneakers up for him to see.
Still, you can’t pretend like it doesn’t feel nice that the boy offered you another ride. It’s a subtle gesture, but it lets you know he’s watching out for you. There’s at least one person you can count on, even when your best friend and family aren’t around. And that’s already more than you could ever ask for.
“We can grab dinner after,” he suggests, leaning his arms against the steering wheel. You know exactly what he’s doing—playing to your weakness and bribing you with food. Because that’s the one thing you rarely ever say no to. You’ve always been that way.
“Okay, sure. I’ll be done around six.”
It’s fine. You’ll pay for his meal as thanks for the rides. Then you’re even.
The first half of the shoot goes well. The lingerie they’ve picked out for you is super pretty, and the assistant said you get to keep your favorite set after the day wraps up. Right now, you’re feeling pretty fucking good despite the stressful night and morning you had.
During your lunch break, you find some shameless texts waiting for you.
Yoongi🗿 [10:34AM] “My friend would like you to send pics of your wardrobe😌”
Yoongi🗿 [10:34AM] “For science”
For science. Your smile flattens just a little. You get that he’s just teasing you, but part of you really wonders if he’s only paying this much attention to you because of your job and the picture you’d AirDropped to him. All you are to him is a hot body to look at. That’s the only reason he broke up with his girlfriend, isn’t it?
If you hadn’t been a dumbass and sent him that photo, he would’ve simply dropped you off at work like the silent Uber driver he was supposed to be. And that would’ve been the end of it. There wouldn’t have been a “let’s get dinner after” or a “send pics of your skimpy lingerie.”
And yet, this is exactly what you’d been yearning for since age five—his attention.
If you really wanted to, you could play along and send him a teaser of the lingerie you decided to take home—a polka-dot mesh set that is very seethrough. You could even drop it in his lap when he picks you up later and tell him it’s a souvenir. That’d get his attention for sure.
But you’re not going to do that. Obviously. Instead, you send him a boring pic of a rack with empty hangers. Because that’s playing it safe.
Yoongi🗿 [12:58PM] “Going nude today?”
Yoongi🗿 [12:58PM] “Or are those micro thongs getting smaller?🧐”
Yoongi🗿 [12:59PM] “Hello”
You wheeze. He’s lucky you’ve known him since birth. If it were any other guy, you’d ghost him for saying shit like that. Then again, he’s only saying it because he knows he can get away with it with you.
Y/N🐣 [1:00PM] “i have to get back to work now🫡”
When you finally reach the homestretch of the shoot, you’re tired and more than a little hungry. It’s been a long day, but you want to finish strong before indulging in a nice dinner with you-know-who. You decided you want to take him to your favorite new sushi spot. Not because you know he loves sushi but because it’s what you happen to be craving today.
While sitting down on the fluffiest rug your ass has ever felt, you model a pretty white set with lots of ties like a bikini. Just a few more photos to go, and then you can get your sushi with your Uber driver. But then your starved brain starts to fuck with you.
Just off to the side behind the camera, you see a shadow that looks a lot like Yoongi. You know it’s not actually him, though. It’s just a hallucination spawning from your cravings. Your cravings for sushi, you clarify to yourself.
Then the shadow crosses his arms and smirks as you get on your knees and press an innocent finger to your bottom lip like you’re just asking for your mouth to be filled. As soon as the camera captures a few shots, your eyes dart back to check on the shadow. He gives you a thumbs up.
That’s not a shadow.
Suddenly, your cheeks are hot and your chest is pounding. He’s not supposed to be here. How are you supposed to focus when you know your childhood friend is watching? You have all these eyes on your body as it is, but he’s the only one that really gets you flustered. More flustered than your first day on the job here.
“Can we redo that shot one more time, please?” the photographer asks. “Relax your shoulders a bit, honey.”
You drop your shoulders, but that’s not going to hide the way your heart is practically pounding out of your chest that you know he’s got his eyes glued to.
“Actually, can I take a quick water break?” You shoot up from the rug, take a long sip of water, grab your thin little robe, and drag your unwanted visitor off to the side.
“Hi to you, too,” he says, glancing down at the way your fingers wrap around his wrist.
“What are you doing here?” Your shaky tone screams of unease. When he said he’d pick you up, you weren’t expecting him to actually go in like a parent picking up their kid from school. He was supposed to stay put in his car where you’d meet him after work. That was the plan. Not this.
He studies your face as if he’s debating whether or not you’re being serious right now, as if he expected you to be happy to see him. After building up the anticipation for several seconds more, he has the audacity to say, “Just here to show my support for my lingerie model neighbor.”
Why did you even bother asking? You should’ve known. He just confirmed what you’d hoped wasn’t true. He’s only paying any attention to you because of that dirty image you ingrained in his head with that dumb AirDrop.
And to be honest, you’re kind of over it. Maybe it’s just your empty stomach raging, but he should know that this is crossing the line. He’s your neighbor for crying out loud. He’d seen you lose your two front teeth, gone trick-or-treating with you, witnessed your awkward teen phase, and all that other wholesome childhood shit. Sure, he gave you a hard time every step of the way, but his presence in your life and the memories you made together were all you ever wanted to protect.
That’s why you chose to stay behind when your parents moved away. You were fine with being away from your own family, and you were even fine when Mo started spending more time with Namjoon. But Yoongi has always been a different case.
You gave up on seeing him in a romantic way after realizing it just wasn’t realistic. If you’d let yourself feel that way any longer, he’d eventually have to reject you, and then that would be the end of it. And you’d much rather keep him in your life than risk it all with a dumb confession of unrequited love. He doesn’t love you, and you’re okay with that.
You just wish he wouldn’t make it so painfully obvious that it’s only your body that he’s after. Because that’s when it might be easier on your heart to cut ties with him.
“I work better when you’re not here.” You let go of his wrist and don’t look up from the red mark your tight grip left on his pale skin. You’re not going to let his charm sway you. He needs to leave. Nothing good can come out of him being here.
So he backs away and leaves.
As you tie your sneakers and refill your water bottle in preparation for the long walk home, you let out a big sigh. Looks like you won’t be getting your sushi fix tonight. Stupid AirDrop.
You wave bye to the crew and claim your free lingerie before stepping outside. To your surprise, it’s already dark out even though you thought the sun wasn’t supposed to set until seven. If you squint hard enough, you swear you can see Yoongi’s car parked in the lot.
So you try not to squint.
But as soon as you walk past the car, your feet make a u-turn until you can see the boy leaning back in his seat, eyes closed and arms folded against his chest. You might still be upset, but you can’t deny how good-looking he is. It’s not fair. The only reason you stop staring is to avoid judgment from anyone passing by. And because you kind of need to talk to him.
You knock on the window on the passenger side.
He doesn’t even flinch.
You knock again. Still nothing. Either he’s dead, or he’s just fucking with you. He better not be fucking with you when you’re mad. Read the room, asshole.
Trying your best not to throw your phone at his window, you instead use it to call him. His phone screen blinds you as it flashes on in the darkness and vibrates against his thigh.
This time you catch the slightest twitch of his pretty pink lips. They’re glowing in the light of his phone screen.
You walk around to the driver’s side and get a better look at his glowy handsome face. “I know you’re awake.”
Now he has a full smile to accompany his closed eyelids, cosplaying as a happy corpse.
You roll your eyes at him and start walking in the opposite direction. “All good, I’ll just walk home.”
The doors unlock real quick. The corpse snaps out of his eternal slumber. “Hey, I was kidding,” he calls out the window. “Come back here.”
For the second time in the past three minutes, you make a u-turn toward his car. But this time, you hop in, hesitant to look him in the eye.
“I didn’t think you’d still be waiting here…” You bite your lip. You wish he weren’t still here. Then you wouldn’t be forced to talk about what happened earlier. It’d be much easier to not talk about your feelings.
“You agreed to grab dinner with me afterward, didn’t you?” He’s acting like you didn’t banish him from the building twenty minutes ago. He’s acting like you could’ve told him to never speak to you again and he’d still be waiting here because of some promise you’d both made earlier in the day. He would’ve been waiting here for you no matter what.
Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten that upset. Time to go in over-two-decades-of-history-preservation mode.
“Yeah but… I kind of overreacted earlier. Then again, I don’t know how else I’m supposed to react when my neighbor sees me half-naked,” you say, shrinking in your seat. “I still meant what I said, though. I work a lot better when you’re not around because you make it hard to focus.”
You immediately regret admitting that last bit.
“It’s understandable that you get so flustered around me. Kind of cute, too,” he hums like he just won the lottery. Mother fucker. “But I should’ve just been honest with you earlier.”
“What do you mean?” You tilt your head like a lost puppy.
“Someone obviously hasn’t checked their phone in a while,” he chuckles, pointing to the pink phone resting atop the mesh lingerie in your bag. You grab your phone and shove the lingerie deeper into your bag until it’s out of his view. Hopefully, he didn’t notice.
Sure enough, you have more unread texts waiting for you beneath the thirsty ones from lunch.
Yoongi🗿 [6:29PM] “Is the shoot running late?”
Yoongi🗿 [6:29PM] “No rush btw. Just want to make sure you didn’t die in the bathroom or something haha”
Yoongi🗿 [7:01PM] “So should I be concerned or”
Yoongi🗿 [7:02PM] “Just to clarify, I don’t believe you’re deceased in the bathroom”
Yoongi🗿 [7:02PM] “But I am gonna go in and check lol”
Then you realize how late it is. It’s over an hour past the time you told Yoongi you’d be done. No wonder it’s fucking dark out.
Your whole mind is spinning, and you have a lot of questions. You turn to him, and the first thing you ask is, “You thought I died in the bathroom?”
“You were running late, not responding, and, well… I had to check,” he shrugs his shoulders. “I didn’t know the lady at the front desk was going to bring me right to the shoot.” So he had good intentions after all. He wasn’t just after your body—far from it, in fact. He was genuinely worried about you.
Well, shit. Now you look like the asshole for telling him to fuck off after he thought to check up on you like a guardian angel. He should’ve just said so in the first place. But maybe it’s hard for him to admit that sort of thing, too. You can relate.
You still feel bad, though. Doubt had clouded your better judgment because of your own insecurities. You didn’t believe what he was doing for you was unconditional. But the truth is, he cares about you more than you know. He always has.
Was Yoongi completely and utterly crushed after you’d asked him to leave your photoshoot? Yes. But he wasn’t going to show that to you. After all, as far as you knew, he’d only dropped by to check you out in that pretty lingerie. That’s always been his biggest downfall. He’s never been fully honest with you. It’s understandable that you’d be frustrated with him.
You had every right to be mad at him for interfering with your work. You had every right to walk away right past his car after the shoot. And yet, you still chose to sit down beside him to salvage whatever it is between you and him. It’s always been complicated like this, but it’s worth all the petty bickering you guys do on a daily basis. Seeing you so flustered and cute makes it all worth it.
The last thing he wants is for you to slip through his fingers. Because a world without you would just be weird. And boring. And lonely.
And now you’re rambling on about sushi—his favorite food. You claim you’ve been craving it all day, but it’s not very convincing.
“Hey, the sushi place is the other way,” you frown as he turns left instead of right. “You’re the worst Uber driver ever. I’m leaving you a one-star review.”
“I thought you didn’t like sushi,” he points out, completely ignoring your Karen threat.
“Yeah, when I was like ten. I’m allowed to change what I like, aren’t I?” You make a good point. Maybe your taste buds have changed and you aren’t just catering to his preferences. But it’s in his nature to keep pushing your buttons, to keep getting a reaction out of you. That’s the one thing he knows will never change between you and him.
“You were cuter when you didn’t like sushi.”
“Fuck you.” You turn your head away from him and toward the window to hide your face. He can still see your reflection, though. For such harsh words, your expression is soft.
It’s funny because that’s what Yoongi has always liked most about you. You’re a tough cookie—you know it, he knows it, everyone knows it—but the best cookies are the ones with soft centers. And he loves to devour and savor that soft side you only seem to show him.
About ten minutes later, he pulls up to a drive-thru you’ll surely recognize. He doesn’t go there often himself, but whenever he does, he’s reminded of those Halloween nights spent scaring the shit out of you before spending his allowance to buy you a kid’s meal with a dumb light-up pumpkin toy. He’s reminded of the time you broke up with your first boyfriend and needed someone to rant to over vanilla milkshakes and fries. He’s reminded of the past two decades the two of you shared together, no matter how silly or short-lived the moments were. He’s cherished all of it.
It might not be the sushi you’d hoped for, but your eyes light up when you see the fast food sign. You lean in closer to him to get a better look at the menu. Today you smell like fruit and—he goes in for another sniff by your neck, purely to identify the intoxicating scent you’re wearing—something floral.
“Ooh, order me the nugget combo with an iced coffee,” you finally glance at him, mid-sniff, with the eyes of an angel. He knew you’d appreciate the fast food.
“You and your nuggets. What are you? A baby?” he chuckles before being greeted and prompted to order over the speaker. “Can we get a burger combo with iced coffee, one kid’s meal with nuggets and milk—”
You give his shoulder a small shove.
He smirks but otherwise continues on as if nothing happened, “—and a nugget combo with iced coffee.”
“So a total of two combos and one kid’s meal?” the employee double-checks.
“Actually—”
“Yeah,” he cuts you off and drives to the pick-up window before you could protest and cancel the kid’s meal order.
“Why do you need a kid’s meal?” you mumble as the employee hands off the big bag of food to Yoongi. You’re so cute when you’re pouty.
“It’s for you, obviously.” He pulls into a spot in the empty lot and takes a sip of his coffee.
“Why do you always treat me like a baby?” That’s the question you ask as you take the kid’s meal box from his hand and start snacking on the few nuggets it comes with.
Because you’re tiny and cute and need to be protected at all costs, he wants to say. Instead he goes with the safer option. “Because you’re my little sister’s friend.”
“But Mo’s rarely ever around anymore. I feel like I’m spending more time with you than her at this point.” That’s true. Her and Namjoon have basically become inseparable. That must suck at least a little for you.
“I personally wouldn’t let that slide.” As much as Yoongi loves his sister and knows she’d do anything for you if you asked, he also knows you’re not the type to reach out unless you really need to. If Mo understood you the way he understands you, she’d know to check in with you, to send you the occasional random meme in case you’re having a bad day, and to remind you that you aren’t alone.
But that’s where he comes in.
“It’s fine, I’m happy for her and Namjoon. Last I heard, she’s waiting for the proposal.” You set down the empty kid’s meal box and move on to your actually dinner. He has to resist the urge to pick the little nugget crumb off the corner of your lips.
“You don’t feel left behind?” he asks. It’s crazy to think his little sister could be getting married soon. Meanwhile, he’s watched you cycle through several boyfriends without much luck. His own love situation isn’t much different, but that’s what happens when no relationship has inspired him to do the things he does for you. Your presence in his life is more than just love and lust.
Everything you are to him is unconditional.
You shake your head at his question as you glance up at the stars through the windshield. “There’s only one person I’d ever feel left behind by.”
If it’s not Mo or your family, then surely it’s the guy you’ve been chasing after all these years, the guy who teases you because you have a cute pout, the guy who’s been with you every step of the way. The one guy you didn’t want to see your lingerie photos in fear of ruining everything. Surely it’s him you’d be hurt by most if you lost him.
“He’s not going anywhere, Y/N,” he assures you.
You continue to study the stars in silence. There are no shooting stars out tonight, but what you’re looking for isn’t a wish. “Is that a promise?”
He nods. The easiest nod of his life. “That’s how it’s always been, right?”
You nod back. It’s always been you and him. Nothing could ever erase that history you’ve both been trying so hard to protect. There’s no need to play it safe anymore. The history between you and him is stronger than that.
As a way to transition out of the sappy stuff, you reach down and grab the toy from the kid’s meal—a tiny soft cat, probably from a baby cartoon or whatever. You have an awfully big smile on your face for someone who complained about ordering the kid’s meal in the first place.
Without thinking, Yoongi snatches the cat out of your grasp and dangles it by the tail in front of your eyes. “I’ll be keeping this.”
“I thought you said it was my kid’s meal.” You swing your little paw at him to reclaim your prize, but he’s too quick, holding the cat captive just out of your reach. It’s incredible how easy you are to taunt, especially over something as silly as a toddler toy. Maybe he’s just become a pro at it with over two decades of experience.
After unbuckling your seatbelt, you practically lunge over the center console and lean your weight on the edge of his seat with one hand while the other reaches for the cat, now pressed against the window on Yoongi’s side. He can smell your pretty perfume again, and he’s going to make it last as long as possible.
He brings the cat forward until it’s an inch away from your hand to encourage you to stretch just a tad closer to him. It apparently works, because the hand supporting your body has moved onto his thigh to give you the extra bit of reach.
If you’re both not careful, you might fall into his lap. He wouldn’t mind it of course, but then you’d feel how hard he’s getting just from having your hand on his thigh like that. Your sweet scent isn’t helping his situation either.
“Say please and it’s all yours.” He lets out an awkward half-cough after inhaling a large dose of your perfume. Very smooth, Yoongi.
You narrow your eyes at him before backing off. His thigh can finally breathe, not that it wanted to. “I don’t need it that bad.”
Aww, you’re acting all tough again. Yoongi slips the cat plush into his pocket with a smirk. “See? Playing hard to get.”
“I swear I’m only like this with you. You drive me mad,” you let out a dramatic sigh.
That’s right. He affects you in a way no one else does. “Good.”
“No, not good.” You wiggle a finger at him as you scan the receipt and pull out your phone. Several seconds later, he gets a notification of you sending him money for all the food.
“You could’ve at least let me pay for the kid’s meal.” Especially after he pocketed the cat.
“I’m just paying you back for all the rides so far.” So far? Interesting choice of words.
“Does that mean you’re going to need another one tomorrow?” He takes another sip of his coffee.
“I don’t know, maybe. I’m getting my car looked at tomorrow morning before work, but…” You have that ashamed look on your face again for having to ask for another ride. You’re not a burden to him. Ever.
“Got it. I’ll be on standby. Just AirDrop me if—”
“Enough with the AirDrop.” You give him another feisty shove and almost knock his coffee out of his hand. Even if the coffee had stained his whole car, he would’ve forgiven you immediately because your smile is so pretty. He’s just happy you’re back to being playful with him. “If I need anything, I’ll let you know. Thank you, Yoongi.”
On the drive home, you tell him more about your job with such a glow. The days might be long sometimes, but the crew has been so sweet, and the photographer “knows how to make you look good.” The photographer could be terrible and you’d still look amazing. There’s no doubt in Yoongi’s mind about that.
You also mention something about special little perks, too.
“Special little perks like what?” he asks, more curious than he’d like to be.
“Guess.” Why are you tempting him like this?
“Does it have something to do with the lingerie in your bag?”
You blink at him like a deer in headlights. Uh oh. “You were supposed to pretend like you didn’t see that.”
“See what?” he plays along. Good save, Yoongi.
You give him a thumbs-up and smile the rest of the way home.
After parking in the space in front of his house, Yoongi takes a five-second look at your car right behind his. It looks perfectly fine. Whatever the issue is, it’s not visible from the outside, but hopefully it stays broken for a while.
“Is it actually broken or did you just say that to score a ride from the handsome guy next door?” he teases.
“The latter, obviously,” you deadpan before switching over to the most precious giggle ever. You’re so fucking cute. “Thanks for the ride, Handsome Guy Next Door.”
“No problem.” He watches, amused, as you dig through the lingerie in your bag to find your keys. He’d turn on the flashlight on his phone to help you see better, but he’s supposed to be ignoring that mesh polka-dotted lingerie. That’s what a good and respectful neighbor would do.
Fuck it. He immediately breaks down and shines a light on the sheer bralette and g-string (and your keys). It’d look so pretty on you.
You grab your keys and shoo away his shameless horny eyes. That’s his cue to leave things as they are, just as he had the night before. If you wanted something more, you’d let him know. He’s already assured you everything will be fine between you and him no matter what.
Just as he unlocks his door, you stop him in his tracks.
“Yoongi, wait.”
He turns around, a little too eager some might say. You haven’t even said anything else, but he’s already ready to say yes to whatever it is.
You dig around in your bag again. He catches a glimpse of the mesh fabric between your fingers. He’ll take a souvenir any day.
But then you toss it back in your bag and hum an innocent, “Never mind, it’s nothing.”
You’re such a tease. Oh how the tables have turned.
As soon as you close the door behind you, you kick off your white sneakers, and take the teeny tiny lingerie with you to your room.
You saw how quick he was to turn around when you called out to him. You saw how he practically drooled at the lingerie in your bag. He wasn’t ready for the night to end either.
Piece by piece, you toss your clothes aside and replace them with the mesh polka-dotted triangles. Your little nipples are so visible through the thin pieces of cloth. Good.
Then you take a quick bed selfie, just like Yoongi had one night ago. And you lay it all out there. You’re done hiding and suppressing your feelings for him. Because no matter what happens between the two of you, even if the night doesn’t go the way you hope, you’re not going to lose him. That’s what was promised in his car.
So, one last time, you AirDrop him a photo of yourself in lingerie. He accepts it immediately.
Then you text him.
Y/N🐣 [8:18PM] “you asked for a pic of my wardrobe earlier didnt you?”
Y/N🐣 [8:18PM] “btw knock on my door rn or youre a coward😡”
You’re really doing it. There’s no going back now.
You throw a hoodie over your shoulders and leave it unzipped as you pace back and forth in the hall. You always wondered why you get so antsy when it’s just Min Yoongi. It’s literally just the guy you’ve lived next to your entire life. But that’s the hold he has on you. The mere thought of being with him never fails to excite you. Those are the kind of butterflies you get with him.
Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest when you hear his knock. You swing the door open before you can chicken out.
Of course his eyes immediately fall on your chest. He almost forgets to speak.
“What pic were you talking about? Did you send something?” he asks, still very much concentrated on your nipples.
Wait.
“You didn’t get the AirDrop?” Not this again. The granny across the street probably did get it this time. You want to wrap yourself up in your fluffy warm blanket and permanently disable that stupid phone feature once and for all. No, it’s not a stupid feature. You’re just stupid for using it.
“You’re so fun to fuck with, Y/N,” he laughs right in your face. “Yes, I got your cute little photo.”
“Stop teasing me,” you pout. Here you are, trying to look all hot for him, and he’s still finding ways to fuck with you. He’s so mean.
“I could ask the same of you.” Yoongi slips his index finger into your bralette between your breasts. He tugs on the stretchy band until it snaps back against your skin. “Or maybe you don’t realize what you do to me when I see you like this.”
“I don’t,” you play innocent as you pull him inside and shut the door behind him. You’d love to be enlightened about what your body does to him just by existing. A demonstration would be much appreciated. The more detail, the better.
He pushes you back against the wall in the narrow hallway and pins you there. You try to distract yourself by staring at the tiny speck of coffee on his white sweater but a strong hand cups your chin and lifts it so you can’t run from his gaze. His eyes are dark.“It's so fucked up how many times I’ve gotten off at the thought of my little sister’s friend in nothing but lingerie.”
Funny, you’ve always thought it was fucked up of you to lust over him given how close you’d been throughout your childhood. You cringe at the thought of Mo learning about all the unholy fantasies you’ve had of her brother—him fucking you against the wet walls of his shower, him shoving his cock down your throat until you cry, and even him tying you up on the bed and doing whatever he wants with your body. Your delusional self has thought about it all with him.
But now you know he’s felt the same way all along.
You slide your hands up his chest to his neck as your eyes hone in on his glossy lips. For as long as you could remember, you’ve always wondered what Min Yoongi tastes like. In your dreams, he tasted of creamy vanilla milkshakes. But now, in this moment…?
You lean in and press your breasts into his chest, but he pulls back just before you can get a taste of those lips.
“I always knew you had a thing for me,” he smirks. The teasing never stops. But that’s what you’ve signed your life away for. “If you want to kiss me so bad, say it.”
The stubborn you who “plays hard to get” would never admit that. The you right now, on the other hand, is yearning, desperate, and painfully horny. In this state, you’d get down on your hands and knees so quick.
“I want to kiss you, you ass—” Your mumble is cut off by his lips. They taste like the iced coffee from earlier with a hint of salt. You want more of it.
Your tongue gets tangled with his. It’s sloppy, but you’ve had enough of keeping it clean with him. You’ve played it safe for far too long.
His hands grab your breasts as he lets out a low moan inside your throat. Funny how perfectly your chest fits in his large hands. When he gives them a squeeze, you lean into him more. Anything to get more of his touch.
But then he slides a hand down your belly and works a few fingers around the fabric between your legs. They glide between your folds so smoothly.
“Did you get this wet just from a little kiss and touch? Poor thing.” He holds up the proof of your lust before licking it off his fingers with that tongue. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight.”
The next thing you know, your hoodie is gone and he’s carrying you off to your room. As soon as your back hits the mattress, he climbs on top of you, bombarding you with more kisses until you’re out of breath.
Your hands fidget with the hem of his sweater until he gets the memo that you want it off. Seeing him shirtless is nothing new—you’ve seen him casually walk out of the shower in nothing more towel on multiple occasions while hanging out with Mo next door, hence all your the shower fantasies. But in this context, with him on top of you on your bed, the butterflies just keep coming.
As the two of you continue to makeout, you unzip him. It’s your turn to slip your hand into his pants. He’s huge, just like your fantasies. You’re not sure your inexperienced throat can handle it.
“You haven’t even seen it yet, and you’re drooling,” he purrs when he leans back to get a good look at your current status—starved for his cock. “Does my cute little neighbor love having her mouth filled with cock?”
“I haven’t…” Your words trail off when you see his erection in full. Your hands latch back on to it like gravity. There’s no way this’ll fit down your throat without making you gag. You lick your lips.
“Wait, this isn’t the first time you’re—”
“I’ve had sex,” you clarify. “Just haven’t given a blowjob…”
It still feels weird to admit these kinds of things to your neighbor. You’ve always been more careful and closed off about your sex life than him. Meanwhile, you swear you’ve heard the whimpers and moans of all the girls he’s pleasured on the other side of your wall. You’ve never heard the sounds he makes during sex, though.
“How innocent. Depriving yourself of tasting it for this long.” Now he’s got a big ol’ smile on his face as you lie on your stomach and kiss along his length. “You won’t be so innocent by the time I’m done with you.”
You don’t want to be innocent with him anymore.
When you finally take him into your mouth, it’s easy. You swirl your tongue around as you bob your head up and down him. The taste isn’t nearly as bad as you’d thought. In fact, you kind of like it. Or maybe you’re just too horny to care.
But then you decide you want to gag. So you push your mouth further down his length. The slightest tickle against the back of your throat practically has your whole body jerk in protest. You pull back and let yourself breathe before wrapping your lips back around him.
“Hey, easy,” he chuckles, holding your hair back. “Deepthroating is too advanced for you. You’re still a baby.”
You’ll let the baby comment slide only because you’re too focused on sucking his cock. You wouldn’t mind doing this all night. It could easily become your new addiction.
“Mm,” you moan as flick your eyes up at him. His mouth is open, panting, still trying to fight off the feral instincts you so easily gave in to. Whatever you’re doing, it’s working. Not bad for a first-time blowjob.
“So good,” he praises as he watches your mouth working so hard along his length. You’ve finally earned some praise from him. After all these fucking years. “Fuck, you’re so good.”
The next time you come up for air, he wipes his thumb along your lip to clean you up before flipping you over onto your back. You’d love to suck the glaze off his thumb, but the selfish bastard does it for you right in front of your face.
“I know you’ve grown quite attached to sucking my cock, but I’d like to know how your other hole feels, if that’s alright with you.”
You nod, knowing just how soaked your g-string got while sucking him off. After wiggling out of it and tossing it aside, you spread your legs out for him like a well-trained slut.
He uses his fingers again to make sure you’re coated enough. You feel two curl inside you. Then a third. His thumb brushes gently over your clit exactly one time.
“Fuck,” you whimper from the jolt of pleasure. He needs to do it again.
But he doesn’t.
So you run your own two fingers around your clit as his slip in and out of you. He watches the rhythm of your fingers going around and around like a hypnotic spiral. That smirk is creeping back up again.
“So that’s how my neighbor touches herrself,” he nods like the enthusiastic spectator he is. “That’s how you touch yourself for me.”
You continue to tease your little bud as he grabs a condom from the ass pocket of his jeans and slides it down his length. Finally. Fucking finally.
Your horny little body pounces on top of him, your thighs straddling him beneath you. His cock presses against your ass as you strip off your bralette and lean over to kiss him some more. You’d leave him a nice hickey, but you hate the thought of Mo bringing it up as “a byproduct of another one of his meaningless flings.”
Instead of thinking about that, you grab his cock from behind and ease yourself onto him. You’re sure his ego just got a boost from the amount of time it took you to adjust to his size.
“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna be That Guy who comments on your tight little pussy.” Asshole.
Then you start sliding yourself up and down his cock. You gasp immediately. It feels so fucking good to finally have him inside you.
The boy doesn’t waste any time, either. His hands work their way up your waist back to your breasts. He gives your nipples a few pinches and is delighted to learn just how sensitive you are over there. You toss your head back with each little pinch.
As the pleasure builds, you feel him thrusting back beneath you. Your ass is practically bouncing off his thighs with each thrust. If you don’t hold onto his shoulders, you might fall off of him, which would be quite the tragedy because you happen to like the feeling of his cock pounding inside of you.
“More…” you huff against his neck. “Harder…”
At your request, he gets back on top and takes the lead, ramming himself in and out of you. You knew Yoongi was a strong guy, but you’ve never been fucked this hard before. Perhaps this is what years of all that sexual tension have amounted to.
You let out another loud moan, this time crying out his name. You should be afraid of Mo coming back from Namjoon’s and hearing the way you cry her brother’s name with such lust. You shouldn’t show what a dirty little slut you’ve become for him. But you’re mind isn’t functioning anymore. Not with him fucking you silly like that.
“I’m gonna—” you yelp.
He speeds up and pounds harder into you until you’re overcome by your orgasm. The wave of pleasure washes over you as you feel your walls tightening around him.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he groans, feeling just how tight you can go. He should be grateful for your tight little pussy. Especially if his high was as good as yours.
As you catch your breath, your thoughts start to come back to you. You’re certainly not looking forward to the conversation you’re gonna have to have with Mo later. But you know it was worth it. And you know you don’t regret anything that happened tonight. It was long overdue, anyway.
Yoongi, on the otherhand, might still have his head in the clouds because he’s just lying down on your pillow with the goofiest smile. He’s been smiling a lot more lately.
“Do you remember that time you invited me to your little tea party in here?” he asks out of nowhere.
“No,” you lie.
Of course you remember it. You were probably five or six and you’d just watched some teen show where the main girl asked her love interest out on a lunch date. Your naive self was inspired to do the same, but with your love interest—your Yoongi. And initially he said no because he’s mean like that. That was your first heartbreak.
But then he turned around later and crashed the tea party you’d set up for your sobbing self and your teddy bear. He claimed he’d only stick around for the shortbread cookies, but you’re starting to think there was more to it.
“Well I do,” he admits. “That was the first time I thought you were kinda cute.”
“Kinda?”
“Yeah, kinda cute. Because you were also an annoying little brat, you know that?” This is just slander.
“Well I appreciate you putting up with this kinda cute annoying brat for all these years,” you mutter. “No one was forcing you to.”
“I know, that’s my point.” He pinches your cheek. “Even if I tried to run, you always somehow found a way to cling onto me. Like a leech.”
“Okay, buddy, I’ve had enough of this slander,” you hiss in his arms under the blankets. “If you’re going to say something nice, just say it already. No more of your dumb leech metaphors.”
“You’ve always had a hold on me, Y/N.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead—the first of many, you hope. “And I feel like a lot happened in the past day, but that’s only one small part of what this is.”
“This” as in you and him.
“Like one page in a history book,” you chime in. “Or like a chapter in a memoir, or the chorus of a song, or—”
He chuckles at your rambling because it’s apparently “so fucking cute” to him. What else would you expect? If one page in the history book is dedicated to the past 24 hours, 10,000 pages are filled with him teasing you, you chasing him, and everything in between.
Today simply marks the start of a new era.
#bts smut#yoongi smut#bts fanfic#bts scenarios#bts imagines#suga smut#yoongi fanfic#yoongi x reader#bts x reader#yoongi fluff#bts fluff#bts f2l
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my favorite bts fics so far (hyung!line)
hello lovely readers, i hope all of you are doing great. i've been wanting to make this post for a while now. i really want to share the amazing work and talent that many authors have on this app. as a literature fan and hopeless romantic myself, i made sure to pick out all the fics that i think are beautiful and amazing :)
disclaimers!!!!:
some of these fics contain nsfw content (minors dni), or some heavy themes, i am yoongi biased so excuse me if the fic ratio compared to the other members is waaayy bigger (like by a lot i am so so sorry), also this post is insanely long heh (once again, i am so so sorry :p), all pictures are from pinterest!
fluff- ♾️
angst- Ω
smut- ☻
crack/humor- ☼
i would sell my liver to read this again for the first time- ¶
Kim Seokjin
Turn Back Time- @raplinesmoon ♾️☼Ω☻
''pairing: baseball player!Seokjin x doctor!reader (based on the movie 13 Going On 30)
genres/au/rating: fluff, humour, angst, smut, time travel au, 18+
summary: After total humiliation at his middle school baseball try outs, Kim Seokjin wants nothing more than for his awkward years to fade away until he’s thirty. Cue a magic baseball glove, and his wish is finally granted. Seokjin suddenly wakes up seventeen years later, now the star pitcher of the team he’d always dreamed of playing for. Confused and overwhelmed at the prospect of the new life waiting for him, he turns to the only person who seems to understand him — you. Will Seokjin learn what it truly means to be thirty, flirty, and thriving? Or will he find himself wishing he could turn back time?''
Every Year- @another-army-spot ♾️Ω☻
''Pairing: Jin x Reader, some implied Yoongi x reader and Namjoon x reader
Word: 15.6K
Genre: friends-to-lovers!au, richkids!au, chef!Jin, bookworm!oc, hard fluff, smut angst?
Summary: As the daughter of the Kim’s closest friends, you’ve attended their extravagant annual New Year’s party since the year you were born. No matter what you always spend time with your favorite childhood friend, Jin, who has always been there for you. Here are the highlights of you and Jin realizing just how important you two are to each other.''
Let's get married as a joke- @burningupp Ω♾️
''Genre: angst, fluff
Pairing: Kim Seokjin x reader
Wordcount: 8210 (I’m so sorry)
Summary: Your best friend Jin has always had a talent of getting you into trouble. Maybe that’s why you’re not surprised that he asks you to marry him as a joke - or that you agree.''
friends get married all the time- @hobipost♾️
''The silly promise you made ten years ago comes back to bite your asses, and you’re both too weak to pretend it never happened
pairing: seokjin x f. reader
genres/tropes: friends to lovers, fluff
words: 2k+''
Min Yoongi
series:
The Truth Between Us- @jimlingss @gukyi ♾️Ω ☼ ¶
“⇒ summary: a book deal should be the most exciting time of your life, but there seems to be a constant and omnipresent damper on your mood in the form of a certain min yoongi, who you would just cut out from your life, if he weren’t your editor. but then, the world shifts beneath your feet, and you begin to wonder if maybe you’ve always been looking at life from the wrong angle.
⇒ enemies to lovers au with various other au’s thrown in there
⇒ word count: 14k (first chapter)
⇒ genre: fluff, angst, drama”
Dating advice- @taleasnewastime ♾️Ω☻
''Summary: It’s been months – ok, it’s been years – since you last went on a date. And you’re sick of it. Sick of seeing couples kissing and holding hands in the street. Sick of your friends settling down. Sick of everyone buying houses and having families. You’re going to do something about it. You’re going to snap up a man, you’re going to tie someone down, you’re going to finally commit, you’re going to – you’re going to need a bit of advice.
Pairing: Yoongi x reader
Genre: fluff; angst; smut
Word count: 54k
Status: Complete''
unexpected lovers- @jjkeverlast ♾️Ω☻
''-> pairing artist!yoongi x female reader
-> genre fake dating!au, romantic comedy
-> summary what happens when you meet min yoongi at the club, or well accidentally use him as your pawn to not get hit on. not knowing your cousins friend overhears and suddenly your whole family knows.
-> word count 19.8k''
Only Yesterday- @borathae ♾️☻Ω ¶
'' “Your life in a small countryside village was nothing of the extraordinary, you owned a quaint little teashop, enjoyed warm evenings in your garden and liked taking walks by the river. One day a handsome stranger moves in the abandoned cottage opposite side of the river and it is not long that he becomes a source of comfort in your life.”
Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader
Genre: s2l!AU, Neighbours!AU, Teashop!AU, Slice of Life!AU, Romance, Fluff, Smut
Warnings: This is a very feel good story, meant to comfort the soul and warm the heart. However it contains talks about car accidents and memory loss, as well as sexually explicit scenes. If you are sensitive to such topics I advise you read with care.
Wordcount: 78.620''
Signed in Black- @yoon-kooks♾️☻
''Pairing: Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Soulmate!AU, BadBoy!AU, FLUFF, Smut [in future chapters]
Summary: Min Yoongi. That was the name magically tattooed to your skin. You were told he was your lover by fate. And as cute as it would be to have a soulmate, Yoongi was the last person you ever wanted to be bound to. But thankfully, there was a way to remove the tattoo. All you had to do was convince six Bulletproof Fairies that the two of you were in love.
Word Count: 3.3k'' (first chapter)
neon signs- @pantoneyoongi ♾️¶
''title ; neon signs [ drabble series ]
pairing ; campus crush!yoongi x campus crush!you
description ; namjoon doesn’t think it can get any clearer outside of yoongi building a giant neon sign saying i have the absolute biggest crush on you but apparently, book smarts don’t exactly translate when it comes to you and your massive crush on min yoongi.
(alternatively: namjoon and hoseok try for three years straight to get you and yoongi together.)''
Reflection of You- @agustdakasuga ♾️Ω ¶
''Genre: Historical!AU, Timetraveller!AU/ Different Dimension, Romance
Pairing: SUGA x Reader, Yoongi x Reader
Characters: Normal!Reader, Idol!Suga, King!Yoongi, Guard!Seokjin, Guard!Jungkook, RoyalAdvisor!Namjoon, Servant!Jimin, Servant!Hoseok, Prince!Taehyung
Summary: Confirming you were dating the famous Min Suga of BTS, you knew you were bound to make some enemies. But what you didn’t expect was to be cursed, leading you to meet a cold-hearted, arrogant king that shares the same face as your rapper lover. ''
your universe- @muniimyg ♾️☻Ω ☼
''in which min yoongi refuses to lose you
+
regretting rejecting oc, min yoongi goes through a circus load of gestures and tasks in attempt to be loved again
pairings:
basketball captain // tsundere yoongi + sunshine // preschool edu major oc
au/genre:
friends to lovers
uni au
one sided pining / rejection / redemption / a sad excuse of a slow burn
smut, crack, angst
social media au + written
warnings:
implied + actual smut
angst (oc is heartbroken and trying to move on from being initially rejected)
name calling, love/hate friendships, big egos, overprotective friends, childish social culture, and a burnt out era <;3
parts:
ongoing ( ongoing/25 )''
andante cantabile- @kkulfm-2 ♾️☻¶
''pairing: myg x f!reader
genre: historical / regency au, fluff, smut
wc: 30.6k + 3.8k smutty bonus
summary: You are convinced Mr. Min is nothing but a rude and gloomy man after he leaves a horrible first impression on you. His friends' attempts to convince you otherwise are met with mixed success.''
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
oneshots:
Man of The Year- @raplinesmoon ♾️¶
''pairing: single dad!Yoongi x gn!reader
genre(s): pure fluff, very minor angst
au(s): graduation au
word count: 2.7k
warnings: some swearing, Yoongi is a little nervous, Yoongi is bad at flirting, this is so cute I could cry
rating: PG
summary: For the longest time, it’s always been Yoongi and his daughter, celebrating every milestone of life together. But today, that could change.''
Shut Eye- @alpacaparkaseok ♾️
''pairing/genre: idol!Yoongi x reader, fluff
premise: In a world where every night you meet your soulmate in your dreams only to forget their face and voice when you wake up, you’re now more desperate than ever to find them.
word count: 2.6k''
gold- @aquagustd Ω♾️☻
''↣ you’re in love with Min Yoongi, yes, you are, but why do you keep thinking of the boy who broke your heart into a million pieces when you should be focusing on the one who’s mending it.
pairing: yoongi x reader (past jungkook x reader)
genre: angst, fluff, smut, bff2l
word count: 17K''
stood up. -@parkdatjimin Ω☻♾️
''Three years after dumping your toxic boyfriend, you decide it's finally time to try the dating scene again. What you don't expect is for a handsome and confident CEO to come to your rescue after being stood up.
"Just play along. My name is Yoongi and whoever stood you up is a douche."
Pairings: CEO!yoongi x fem!reader
Genre: HEAVY angst, smut, lil fluff, slice of life, mutual pining, non-idol!au''
First-Date BAIT!- @jimlingss ♾️
''Words: 11.3k
Genre: Fluff
First dates are embarrassing. First dates are awkward. I’ve been through countless ones, sitting across from people who bored the living daylights out of me. It was less exciting than watching paint dry. Some dates were so utterly rude - I think you and I both know what it’s like to be on the receiving end on that. But now we both don’t have to waste our time anymore!
With First Date Bait they went out for me! Afterwards, they informed me if it was recommended to go out on a second date. It’s amazing with a 99.99% accuracy rate! That’s how I ended up meeting my husband!
First Date Bait.
Why waste your time with awkward first dates?''
DreamCatcher- @jimlingss ♾️Ω
''Words: 13k (oops)
Genre: Fluff & Angst
Summary: When your dreams are more or less nightmares, monsters inside your head that eat you alive, it seems like the only person who can help you is Min Yoongi, professional dream chaser.''
Purr-haps I like you- @taleasnewastime ♾️
''Summary: You have a no pets policy where you live, but when you find a tiny kitten in a box on the side of the road, what can you do but bring it home with you? The only problem? The landlord who made the no pets rule, also happens to be your flatmate.
Pairing: Yoongi x reader
Genre: pure fluff; Flatmates au
Word count: 11.6k''
Wild Strawberries- @yoonia ♾️☻
''➤ Character / Genre: Min Yoongi x reader/female OC (told through Yoongi’s POV) | Lucid Dream!au, fluff, smut''
first love- @jungnoir Ω♾️
''⇢ summary: yoongi meets you, seated next to him at a familiar brown piano, and he steals you away hours before your wedding day, seated next to him at a familiar brown piano + yoongi’s been in love with you since childhood and he only has the courage to tell you when you’re about to marry someone else.
⇢ relationship: min yoongi/reader.
⇢ genre: best friend!au, angst, romance.
⇢ words: 5.6k''
strike a chord- @snackhobi ♾️☻¶
''pairing: yoongi x reader // word count: 15.8k // genre: smut
summary: your idea of a good night certainly doesn't involve being stood up by yet another blind date and finding yourself alone in a fancy bar; fortunately for you, there's an attractive man playing the piano to keep you busy, instead.''
Anyone But The Groom- @yoonjinkooked ♾️Ω☻
''❅ Summary: After a meet-cute that brings all the romcoms to shame, you realize that for once in your life, the stars have finally aligned and presented you a guy that might be able to make you believe in love at first sight. Only to find out that you’re in charge of planning his Christmas Eve Wedding.
❅ Pairing: Yoongi x female reader
❅ AU: Wedding Planner reader x Arranged Marriage groom Yoongi
❅ Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, will-they-won’t-they type of relationship
❅ Word Count: 36.5k (I AM SO SORRY)''
Not Even a Mouse- @softyoongiionly ♾️☻¶
''Summary: The week before Christmas, you are tasked with delivering some paperwork to your father’s former business partner in order to secure your ownership of their legendary toy store. However, things don’t go as planned and a sudden blizzard keeps you cooped up inside the tiniest town you’ve ever seen, Snow Falls. You keep telling yourself that it’s the weather that’s keeping you here, but after a visit to Min’s Mini Mart, you aren’t so sure anymore…
Pairing: Single Dad! Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Romance, FLUFF, Smut (18+ only please)''
All I Want for Christmas (ft. Yoongi)- @hayjeon ♾️Ω
''→ singledad, CEO!yoongi x secretary!reader→ 13k words''
ceo!yoongi- @jungshookz ♾️☻☼ ¶
''→ pairing: min yoongi x reader
→ genre: ceo!au, clumsy!y/n because that’s always nice, jimin is ur best friend, floofy fluff, a touch of nsfw aka office sex
→ wordcount: 21k+ so u should probably read this using ur laptop and not ur phone''
first love | myg- @lavienjin ☻Ω
''synopsis: After an incredibly long day, Yoongi found you crying in the copy room. Though he doesn’t talk much, you’ve always found his presence comforting, and it didn’t surprise you when he stayed and listen to you vent. However, while you sought comfort in his embrace, he proposed a special offer to reduce your stress with the magic of his hands. The only catch to your arrangement? You couldn’t fall in love.
But wouldn’t you know it, just as your friendship deepens into something more, you find an old notebook sitting on his bookshelf, and in it, a collection of poems. The last entry has you reeling because it’s addressed to you. And in that page, a single line is written: Without you, I am nothing
pairing: yoongi x reader
wc: 11.3k
genre/rating/au: 18+ | fwb, coworkers, f2l au | smut, angst
warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, semi public sex, multiple smut scenes, multiple orgasms, oral (m. & f. receiving), masturbation, exhibition, lots of feelings. like a lot of feelings :(''
A Boy Like You | Yoongi- @cinnaminsvga ♾️¶
''→ summary: for whenever you are feeling low, always remember that there is a boy you know who would lift the sky for you.
{or alternatively: Min Yoongi loves you, though he never says it. He’s always been a firm believer in that actions speak louder than any words ever could.}
→ genre: coworker!au, f2l, fluff''
when the stars align- @itskimtaehyung ♾️Ω
''Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader
Genre: FakeDating!AU with a hint of roommates (well actually more like apartment-mates but roommates is catchier), College!AU, fluff, angst
Word count: 10.5k
Content/Warnings: Mentions of heavy drinking, drug usage, strong language, but also cute things like adopting a dog together
Summary: With cuffing season approaching its end, you thought you had escaped the pressures of finding a boyfriend for the holidays. That is, until your friends set you up on a blind date that goes horribly wrong. This prompts you to enlist the help of your roommate, Yoongi, to fake a relationship so your friends will stop meddling in your love life. And it turns out Yoongi is a lot better at this romance thing than you originally thought…''
p.o.v | myg- @jtrbluv ♾️Ω
''summary: you were eight when you first met your soulmate. then you were eighteen when you realized that the boy who just got hired at the local record store next door, is also your soulmate. the issue at hand: you are the only one that knows.
pairing: yoongi x reader (fem)
genre: fluff, angst, soulmate!au, redstringoffate!au, college!au, high school!au
word count: 17.9k''
Yoongi is a Rock- @yoongsisbae ♾️Ω ¶
''rock!Yoongi x reader :D fluff a bit of angst a lot of silliness
Word Count 1.3k''
android!yoongi- @jungshookz♾️Ω☻☼ ¶
''→ pairing: min yoongi x reader
→ genre: android!au becauSe for some reason android aus are popping up everywhere, the usual heaping serving of fluff and comedy, N S F W like reALLY nsfw i poPPED OFF this time i don’t know even know what happened,,, forgive me god for i have sinned, a n g s t, i definitely teared up a little writing this because i was listening to kim bum soo’s i miss you and it made me 100x more emo
→ trigger warnings: this does get a little intense! beware!!
→ wordcount: 24k like that bruno mars song''
you’re so concerned about the ending that you don’t even know the plot- @joonsgalaxy ♾️☼
''° yoongi x reader x taehyung
° 1.9 k words ° fluff/humour
🌟 you bring your broken laptop to Tae—the IT specialist—who you have a crush on. you drag your bff Yoongi along with you, who—you’re certain—has a crush on Tae too. what a mess, right? well, the thing is, you never even considered the possibility of your assumptions being totally wrong.''
better place- @cupofteaguk ♾️
''summary: you might be in love with childhood best friend Min Yoongi, and he might be in love with you—and everyone seems to know it. except for the two of you.
pairing: yoongi x fem!reader
genre: hogwarts au, friends to lovers au | fluff
warnings: slow burn, alcohol consumption, truly lowkey an idiots to lovers au
word count: 14k''
something to hold on to- @fantasybangtan ♾️Ω ¶
''❦ word count. 17.7k
❦ genre. parent fic, fluff, angst, a bit of boob action
❦ warnings. illness, mention of hospitalisation, mention of minor character death, yoongi is kind of a dick sometimes, accidental(?) flashing
❦ summary. it’s not that you don’t like your job. on the contrary, reading bedtime stories to a certified little princess is something you still can’t believe you get paid to do. it’s just that between all the school runs, snow days and secret second hot chocolates before bed, you may fallen a little too hard for those dimpled cheeks and gummy smiles…. worse still, you’ve fallen for her father too.''
the proposal- @dreamescapeswriting ♾️Ω☻
''WORD COUNT: 35K (No its not missing a decimal point)
PAIRING: CEO!Yoongi x Assistant!Reader
GENRE: Smut, enemies to lovers, CEO x Assistant, fake marriage, angst, movie inspired, slow burn''
basketballcaptain!yoongi- @jungshookz ♾️☻☼ ¶
''→ pairing: min yoongi x reader
→ genre: basketball captain x water girl, cheesy cheesy stuff, the FLUFFIEST fluff, jungoo is an idiot, humour, nSFW = smut, cocky yoongi, spoiler alert yoongi does a body shot off of u it just be like that sometimes
→ wordcount: 18.4k this will definitely make the app crash as per usual don’t come for me''
Hug-o-gram- @cinnaminsvga ♾️☼ ¶
''→ summary:
“This is probably the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” Yoongi hisses, but it’s kind of hard for Seokjin to take him seriously when he’s wearing a cardboard sign around his neck that says ‘Huggie Wuggie Machine!’ in bubble font.
“Like, even worse than when we DIY’d your car into a convertible by sawing the top off?” Seokjin asks, genuinely curious.
“Worse,” Yoongi admits, trying his best to stay out of your line of sight. His cheeks redden, matching the gaudy pink kitten ears he was forced into wearing.
{or alternatively: Seokjin is a terrible wingman. He also runs a profitable business by sending hugs to people’s crushes for a fee. Mix them together and you have a recipe for Min Yoongi’s worst nightmare.}
→ genre: college!au, hugging booth!au,fluff, humor
→ warnings: yoongi is so smitten that he’s a walking disaster, so much shy!yoongi to the point where you’ll want to scream, seokjin just tryna get his homie some y/n love coochie bro ;o;
→ words: 13.3K''
I Wanna Hold Your Hand- @minisugakoobies ♾️
''Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (Gender Neutral)
Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, fluff, Roommates!AU
Rating: T
Warnings: pining, a lil’ smooching, Yoongi is very persuasive, reader is easily duped, it’s as fluffy as freshly fallen snow
Word Count: 1.4K
Disclaimers: None, other than obviously I don’t own BTS - they simply inspire me
Summary: It’s hand-holding season, according to your roommate.''
subtle- @joonary ♾️Ω
''↳ summary: just another memory added to the long list of drunk memories that you’ll forget but wish you’d remember, while yoongi will remember but wish he could forget.
↳ genre: fluff; light angst; friends (?) to lovers (?); min yoongi x reader
↳ rating: pg-13
↳ warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, and yoongi’s soft spots being exposed to the light of day. yknow, just another joonary fic.
↳ word count: 3.5k''
Hobi's Girl- @jjungkookislife Ω☻
''↬ pairing: f. reader x Hoseok, f. reader x Yoongi
↬ genre: smut [18+], angst
↬ summary: Yoongi had a wonderful night with you… but you’re Hobi’s girl.
↬ wc: 4.8k''
The King Isn’t Dead- @another-army-spot ♾️Ω☻
''Pairing: Yoongi x oc (fem)
Rating: M
Word: 19.7k~ (my finger slipped?)
Genre: historical fic, smut, romance, fluff, angst, political upheaval shit
Summary: After the invasion and the King’s miraculous survival, the nation aims to secure stability and his position of power through the prospect of marriage and continuing the Min line. As a promise to your brother on the battlefield, the King promises to consider you as his potential wife - to love and to protect. Or maybe it’ll be the other way around?''
the landlord- @ppersonna ☻
''↳ summary- your air conditioner breaks right at the height of a recordbreaking heat wave. good thing your hot landlord, yoongi, knows how to attend to any needs you may have.
↳ rating- explicit / 18+
↳ word count- 4.3k
↳ pairing- yoongi x reader
↳ genre- smut, light crack, PWP''
CYBERSEX- @gimmethatagustd ♾️☻☼
''The whole point of being a phone sex hotline operator is that you’ll never have to meet your clients. So what are you supposed to do when you find out your favorite client is your brother’s best friend?
» pairing: yoongi x fem!reader
» wc/date: 14.6k | July 2022
» genre: BTS | 18+ | brother’s best friend | smut | fluff | humor
» warnings: alcohol | blowjob | car sex | creampie | dirty talk | fingering | masturbation | pet names | phone sex | pussy slapping | sex work | unprotected vaginal sex''
Jung Hoseok
hot rod- @kinktae ♾️☻
''a 1950′s inspired fic where greaser Hoseok can’t keep his eyes, or hands, off the new waitress at his and his boys’ favorite diner.
pairing: greaser!hoseok x reader
word count: 10k
genre: 1950s au, smut, fluff''
Kim Namjoon
The Bodyguard- @rmnamjoons ♾️☻Ω
''➳ summary: You’re the daughter of the ambassador to a small, peaceful, barely-on-the-map country in Western Europe, working as a diplomat to help your mother with her endless meetings and politics. After a kidnapping attempt gone wrong, you and your protective bodyguard Namjoon are on the run across Europe, jumping from trains, stealing cars, and pretending to be a couple on your honeymoon to stay hidden. As the would-be kidnappers close in, Namjoon promises you that he’s going to keep you safe, no matter the cost.
➳ pairing: bodyguard!Namjoon x reader
➳ genre: bodyguard au, romance, smut, fake dating/fake marriage, road trip (kinda), very slight angst
➳ word count: 62.9k – this is a complete, VERY long oneshot''
Show Me How- @imaginationofacrazyfangirl ☻ ¶
''Summary:You swiped right on a nerd, instead you got a Greek God. Or tired of your virginity, you decide to throw caution to the wind and find a hook up on tinder.
— PAIRING: Namjoon x f!reader
— GENRE: smut. 18+ minors dni.''
I'll continue in a pt.2
(tumblr doesn't let me write more lmao)
#bts fanfic#bts fic recs#bts friends to lovers#min yoongi fluff#yoongi fic recs#yoongi fanfic#jin fluff#jin fic recs#jin fanfic#namjoon fluff#namjoon fic recs#namjoon fanfic#hoseok fic recs#hoseok fanfic#bts f2l#bts#yoongi fluff#yoongi x reader#yoongi crack#namjoon x reader#hoseok x reader#jin x reader#bts hyung line
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Love takes the stage
Pairing: Yoongi x reader
Genre: Friends to lovers 🤭
Word count: ~800
A/n: Somehow I wrote this with a genderless reader! I hope you all enjoy <3
<
Yoongi paced nervously backstage, his heart racing with anticipation. He was about to perform at his first concert in New York, and he couldn't help but feel a little intimidated. The crowd was huge, and he wanted to give them his all.
Suddenly, he heard a knock on his dressing room door.
"Come in," he called out, trying to steady his breathing.
The door opened to reveal you, his longtime friend from Seoul. Yoongi's heart skipped a beat as he took in your beauty.
You were wearing a dark outfit inspired by Daechwita and even had the scar painted on your right eye. Your attention to detail always excited Yoongi the most especially when you focused it on his interests.
Now his heart seemed to be bursting out of happiness, a gummy smile on his face, as you stood before him nothing less of a vision and even carrying a bangtan bomb in your hand.
"Hey," you said softly, a smile playing on your lips.
"I just wanted to wish you good luck."
"Thanks," Yoongi said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I'm a little nervous, to be honest." Yoongi’s gaze dropped from yours to the ground as the thought of what awaits made his anxiety rise again.
You walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't be," you said. "You're amazing, and you've worked so hard for this. You're going to do great."
Yoongi couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence at your words. He took a deep breath and stood up straight, ready to face the crowd and you gave him an encouraging smile before walking out.
As he walked out onto the stage he immediately found you in the crowd happily waving the bomb. The moment he felt your eyes on him he relaxed and he couldn't help but smile. He began to rap, his words flowing effortlessly as he poured his heart out to the audience.
With every look around the stadium his confidence grew and with every look into your sparkly eyes so did his heart.
After the show, Yoongi was buzzing with excitement. He had never felt so alive. As he walked offstage, he saw you waiting for him with a bouquet of flowers.
"You were amazing!" You squeezed, giving him a firm hug. "I'm so proud of you." Your eyes shone from the building tears.
Yoongi felt his heart swell with gratitude. He had always admired your unwavering support, and he couldn't help but feel a little bit in love with you.
As the two of you walked out of the venue, Yoongi took your hand in his. You looked up at him, surprised, but didn't pull away.
"Y/n," he said softly. "I know we've been friends for a long time, but I can't help the way I feel. I love you." He wanted to say but standing here also ne with you and a confession on his mind made the nerves return and twist his guts in a fist.
Your wide eyes never left his as you awaited his next words.
“Thank you for being here today… it felt really good to see you in the crowd” he scratched the back of his neck a small smile paying on his rosy lips.
You felt like you were left a little high and dry and decided that you’ll take the matters into your own hands.
You see before Seokjin joined the army he told you an important secret about a friend of his that might have included words like “Yoongi” “likes” and “you”.
"I like you too," you said, before leaning in to kiss his cheek.
Yoongi felt like he was on top of the world as your warm lips touched his cheek, his heart beating faster than ever before.
When you pulled back and smiled at him he without a second thought wrapped his hand around your waist and pulled you into a real kiss.
With your lips caressing his own he could feel the tension in his muscles subsiding and his heart charging up to its full potential.
“I like you more” he looked into your eyes before placing a sweet kiss on your forehead.
The both of you knew that this was just the beginning of your journey together, and couldn't wait to see what the future held.
>
#bts#bts fic#bts x reader#bts f2l#bts suga#suga x y/n#suga fic#min yoongi x reader#yoongi x reader#bts yoongi#yoongi imagine
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among thieves ✨ || bts • pjm [COMPLETED] masterlist
"what even am I to you? your rival, your lover, an obstacle or am I supposed to be your coffin?"
about two thieves who can't live with nor without each other.
and a joint past that comes back to threaten them.
© 2023 | eleni_cherie
[ the sequel a thief's end ✨ || bts • myg is out as well! ]
»»»
list of all chapters:
prologue | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8 | 0.9 | 1.0 | 1.1 | 1.2 | 1.3 | 1.4 | 1.5 | 1.6 | 1.7 | 1.8 | epilogue
— word count: 49k
— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, very flirty jimin, sexual tensiON, slowburning, mutual pining, friends/rivals/exes to lovers (it's complicated, ok?!) f2l e2l ex2l
I don't wanna spoil too much, but all members play a role in this story!
— song recommendations/inspirations:
lana del rey - serial killer
jimin - like crazy
arctic monkeys - arabella
the last shadow puppets - pattern & used to be my girl
zayn - wrong (ft. kehlani) & borderz
»»»
COPYRIGHT. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
IDEA/STORY VERY LOOSELY INSPIRED BY MY LOVE FOR UNCHARTED 4, GANGSTER COMEDY FILMS AND MY FAVOURITE ANIME OTP.
PROTAGONISTS:
PARK JIMIN AS HIMSELF; CHEEKY MASTER THIEF / LADIES' MAN
KAT MCNAMARA AS ARABELLA VALENTINE; FEISTY THIEF & SPY / LOVER OF JEWELS
ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.
SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)
NOT FREE FROM LINGUISTIC ERRORS - ENGLISH IS NOT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE.
DON’T BE A GHOST READER. LIKE & SHARE THIS STORY IF YOU LIKE IT :))
DEDICATED TO EVERYONE WHO’S READING THIS FANFIC.
CHECK OUT MY OTHER STORIES AS WELL:
polaris ✨ bts • kth
private affair ✨ ksj
8 mile ✨ myg
lonely hearts club ✨ kth
a thief's end ✨ || bts • myg
-Elenixx
#park jimin#bts jimin#jimin#jimin au#jimin fanfic#thief au#gangster au#enemies to lovers#friends to lovers#exes to lovers#ex2l#jimin mafia#criminal au#bts mafia#e2l#f2l#bts#bts au#bts fic#jimin angst#jimin fluff#bts fanfic#bts x oc#bts series#kat mcnamara#katherine mcnamara#taehyung#yoongi#seokjin#jungkook
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Roommates by automnesleaves
Summary:
February 2020: Your best friend Jimin’s roommate recommendation, IT guy Yoongi Min, moves in with you.
March 2020: Covid Lockdown.
Words: 120k
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
This fic is available only on ao3. Author didn’t post this story on Tumblr in any form. I’m posting this to have it in my library :)
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jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅷ)
it's finally here! i've been working on this list for so long and honestly with the release of seven i had to reorganize it but it's finally ready soooo here's a list of the fics i've been reading lately, honestly i loved every single one of them and enjoyed it so much and i would sell my soul to get a chance to read them all over again, i've been exploring way more and reading genres i haven't read before so i am so excited to post this list, i've grown attached to alot of the series so i'm beyond excited seeing how they all play out but i hope you all connect and fall for the fics as well and experience that excitement too... remember to follow, like, comment and give lots of love to our talented writers they deserve so much love and support i mean look at all the magic they share with us!! and check out their masterlists too you might find your faves as well... as you know majority if not all the fics i rec contain smut so no minors allowed and also dni. i love that you guys have been sending me recs and questions i love hearing from you so please do keep sharing them and asking... stay happy and healthy everyone and enjoy the list till next time 💘🖤
a- angst s- smut f-fluff
series
employed by @personasintro f s a (ceo au slow burn e2l) updates on wattpad
seven days by @/kithtaehyung f s a (fuckboy jk roommate to lovers)
candles & flames by @taegularities f s a (enemies to lovers royal/regency au fuckboy jk)
ego season by @sparklingchim s (jock jk fwb brothers best friend college au)
the lucky one by @babystrcandy f s a (rivals/enemies to lovers childhood friends)
bangtan scouts by @hisunshiine f s a (fantasy au college au friends to lovers)
seven days by @/hisunshiine f s a (brothers best friend age gap fwb)
bloodline by @jjkeverlast s a (fwb au slow burn college au)
seven days a week by @/jjkeverlast f s a (fwb au college au)
dextrocardia by @jeonstudios f s a (officer au undercover fake marriage e2l)
drown for you by @/jeonstudios f s a (siren au)
as we were by @archivedkookie s a (infidelity au marriage au slow burn) ft yoongi
secret slut by @jeonsweetpea s (office au assistant jk)
moonstruck by @/jeonsweetpea s a (supernatural au slow burn e2l based on the vampire diaries and legacies)
angel’s trumpet by @hansolmates f a (idol au supernatural au)
timing by @spideyjimin f s a (dad jk past lovers au)
full stop by @1oserjk f a (divorce au parents au)
spicy n sweet by @thvhoe s a (boxer au established relationship)
the princess and the rockstar by @httpknjoon f a (rockstar au royalty au)
redamancy by @lesgetittkookie f s a (rich girl au s2l)
the ability to fathom by @hanniwrites f s a (brothers best friend idiots to lovers pining college au virgin au)
denial by @girlygguk f s a (idol au fwb brothers best friend)
safety net by @pradaksj f s a (boxer au e2l)
the forgotten spaces by @oddinary4bts f s a (slow burn e2l dancer au college au)
sinful lust by @oddinary4bts s a (threesome au) ft. boyfriend myg
over wine by @koocycle f s a (marriage au)
friday nights and take-out by @ahundredtimesover f s a (idol au s2l)
blackout by @jjungxkook f s (bf2l roommate college au)
the damsel & her knight by @jimilter f a (chaebol au ceo jk e2l)
at your service by @untaemedqueen f s a (escort au s2l ceo au)
pr disaster by @ughcore f s a (e2l actor au fake dating)
aphrodite in war by @jungblue f s a (frat boy au fake dating roommates e2l)
to err is to love by @jungkookschin f a (exes au dilf au ceo au)
live through this by @starshapedkookie s a (exes frenemies to lovers band au)
my love is here by @solemnreads f s a (unrequited love best friends slow burn)
clash by @matchagator f s a (neighbours slice of life e2l)
to what we were before, and all the things after by @orchidyoonkook f s a (prince jk s2l f2l slow burn college au)
one-shot
devoted to trouble by @/jeonsweetpea f s (spiderkook)
accidental roommates by @/jjkeverlast f s a (dilf au roommates to lover e2l)
calling you cool by @/kithtaehyung f s a (rockstar au s2l)
college nights, diner fights by @/hisunshiine f s a (e2l waiter au)
love is gone by @jeonbunnie s a (established relationship break up au)
the boy with galaxies in his eyes by @/oddinary4bts f s a (idol au fuckboy au fwb tattoo artist au)
no longer strangers by @soft4gguk f s (summer love strangers 2 lovers)
the hating game by @sxtaep s a (e2l lawyer au)
what if i love you too much? by @taleasnewastime f s a (single mom au neighbours to lovers)
jasmine by @/btssmutgalore f s (friends to lover shy jk) on ao3
please don’t go by @httpjungkookcom f a (spider kook childhood best friends)
boy's a Liar by @/thvhoe f s a (best friends bf e2l college au)
masked by @flymetothejoon s a (drummer jk s2l)
lonely hearts club by @joonbird s a (tattoo artist dystopian au)
this is how you fall in love by @jeonqkooks f s a (rockstar au established relationship)
freak-quency by @gukslut f s (rockstar au s2l)
boots by @/gukslut f s (rockstar au)
wake up call by @junghelioseok s (established relationship)
orange tulips by @kainks f s a (soulmate au reincarnation)
skirt chaser by 1kook s (f2l college au)
blueberry haze by @caelesjjk s (drummer au s2l)
cabin fever by @jeongi f s a (ex best friends unrequited love)
the millionaire and his lover by @gukyi f s a (f2l ceo au fake dating one sided love)
take what’s yours (and stay) by @kidguk f s a (f2l s2l pinning)
overtime by @cupofteaguk f s (ceo au boss au)
↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library
#kiki!fic!rec#jungkook#kiki's library#jungkook:oneshot#jungkook:series#jungkook:smut#jungkook:angst#jungkook:fluff#favourites!jjk#jungkook fanfiction#bts fanfiction#jungkook angst#bts angst#jungkook fic recs#bts fic recs#jungkook x reader#bts jungkook#jungkook series#jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook smut
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colour me in: redraft | jjk (m)
Summary: The calm is more appreciated after a storm.
Life with Jungkook proves to you that sometimes, joy can, in fact, overshadow grief. Yet, not without confronting and removing all hurdles standing in your way once and for all.
➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader
➳ rating: 18+
➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; some tame angst, sooo much fluff, smut
➳ warnings: new relationshippppp, so much hugging and kissing, yoongi!! tae!!, tears, abandonment issues, talk about social anxiety (just briefly and nothing serious!), jungkook drops a big question :'), a surprise in the middle, a surprise near the end, and then a SURPRISE at the end lol, many surprises, they're so crazy for each other it's gross; explicit sexual content: okay – kook is wearing a chain.. this vibe :'), making out, showering together, shower sex, spanking, biting, oral (f. & m. receiving), fingering, mouth/face f*cking, mirrorssss, he likes her ass and tiddies, tears, choking, v brief ass stuff, rough and soft sex, dom and big cawk jk, vocal jk, multiple orgasms, they're simps; ALSO YEAH THE ENDING :')
➳ word count: 25.3k
➳ a/n: so when i said this chapter would be shorter… welp lol. but i still think it introduces the next arc really well. i kinda love the ending!! .. and the next part will be </3 :'''') as always beta'd by my lovely @missgeniality 🤍 i hope you guys like this one a lot. worked my ass off for this fr :') if you do, please do support the chapter and interact with me, too, it makes my day <3
➳ listen to: i need u by yaeow | full collaborative playlist 🤍
SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST
MASTERLIST | WIPs | DC SERVER
Monday morning’s breakfast is awkward. Or at least, the very first minute of it.
The hands of your watch drift to 9 AM; you should’ve expected you wouldn’t be occupying the dining table alone. Your parents, sipping the last of their coffee, aren’t that much of a surprise after all.
You breathe a quiet breath of relief when their eyes dart towards your timid forms at the threshold, then back to the table. And a moment later, they’re pushing their chairs back across the marble floor before they clear the path to breakfast for the two of you.
Your father acknowledges you with a brief, polite nod on his way out, even flashing a similarly quick smile. Ingenuine, because his glance, fleeting when directed to you, is as disappointed as your Mom’s behind him.
Today, you understand. Somewhere in the depths of your recovering mind, you feel upset about shitfacing yourself so thoroughly, too.
You haven’t seen your mother in over two days. Jungkook’s post-showcase confessions brought you to Eun, and the next morning you barely scanned your room before you left for her place again.
Guess the momentary encounter in the hallway doesn’t quite count; you could hardly crack your eyes open. Combined with half the dozen naps you took in your locked room the very next day, you won’t exactly expect pride from her right now.
Until now, as she advances towards your body, you didn’t consider much of her side; you stayed focused on the other occurrences passing after sunset. Moments whose scent your sheets still carry.
As your mother comes to a stand, you prepare your vocal cords, breathing in to explain yourself until you realise that she isn’t looking at you at all. Her eyes are firmly glued to Jungkook’s face, devoid of enmity for once.
Instead, she flattens her dress, sighing through her red-tinted lips before she nods towards him and simply says, “Thank you.”
And that’s it. A little breathtaking, entirely new.
You’re dumbfounded when she leaves; Jungkook doesn’t manage a single word. You imagine that if you’re baffled, he’s probably rethinking her words to assure he didn’t hallucinate them.
But neither of you did. And the silence lingering for a couple more seconds proves the depth of reality; not that you’ll change your mind about leaving your place. But the hint of appreciation, shot directly at him is a pleasant first nevertheless.
Breakfast is patient but fast. The quiet atmosphere doesn’t derive from the night before or what your mother just left you with, but from the emotional fatigue slowly dropping off your shoulders.
Jungkook lets you feast in peace, a soft palm rubbing over the back of your hand every now and then to assure you’re okay. And you are. You’re getting used to these changes.
To this alternative to whatever you feared before. A chance to erase all words and start on a blank page; a white canvas, waiting for vibrant colours instead of monochrome gloom.
Yet, despite the tranquillity last night, still present in the air and in your aching limbs, you don’t understand the sincerity of all the confessions he uttered until you leave.
Because breathing in your car isn’t as suffocating as it was the last few weeks. Back when you’d navigate through the town alone, the passenger seat empty. Or when you plucked up the courage and drove to the showcase numbly.
Or when the pain pierced through your chest; when your drunk ass thought the world would remain blue forever.
All of it is gone when you buckle up, shifting in your seat as you announce, “Okay. Let’s finally get you home.”
The engine roars for a moment, the car trembling, but you only register the knot in your throat when he says, “Feels so unfair of me. Having my girl drive me around so much.”
You don’t miss the endearment; neither the way your heart skips a beat.
Incapable of a proper reaction, you clear your throat and stutter, all at once and oddly in succession until you settle on a weak, “Why unfair?”
“Because. You do it a lot.”
You really do not. The night the museum closed and you dropped him off at your place was one of a few times; besides, he’s operated your vehicle more than enough before, too.
But you don’t contradict him, instead lightly suggest, “Well, you can drive if you want.”
You’re relieved when he joins your smile, dimples ever-so-sweet and genuine as he promises, “It’s fine. I’ll just stare at you.”
The shudder along your spine is delightful — relentless, he keeps your nerves alight. Perhaps he’s back to the self you knew pre-broken-hearts, playful and teasing, but the effect of his words curses through your veins hotter than ever.
“That’s creepy,” you still retort; you’ll gladly keep fighting this sweet, awkward battle against compliments for life, unaware how to handle them. “And it makes me nervous.”
“Sorry.”
Jungkook laughs, the back of two fingers reaching to your cheek to graze it featherlightly. Maybe he feels the heat beneath your skin, enhanced through his touch.
By now, you’ve spent a year with him — as a party fling, a class frenemy and a blue flower. But each second ticking away brings a new wave of soft, shy speechlessness. New honeymoon emotions.
The certainty of his reciprocated feelings, the fact that you’re finally on the same page, makes you rethink his tender confessions and touches differently. Makes you navigate the relationship differently.
His eyes drift back to the quiet, narrow street, surrounded by houses and blooming gardens. Probably as tired of the idyllic utopia as you, he doesn’t spare the suburban setting any more attention.
He only lets a flat hand rub against his thighs, nipping at his clothing as he says, “God, I can’t wait to get out of these damn joggers.”
Right. While not a main focus, you did find the special attire at breakfast today quite amusing.
“Did you even get to shower since picking me up?” you ask.
“Yeah. When you were napping again yesterday. Just gotta wash my hair later tonight.”
Hmm. You spent half your day knocked out; Jungkook could’ve circled the world and you wouldn’t have known.
“Oh. Good.”
The road proceeds straight, emptier near the suburbs. You allow a reckless glance before tackling busy streets; his eyes meet yours in curiosity, hair even messier than the night he met you in front of the bar.
When he left his apartment in joggers and an old shirt, mane untamed and no extra clothing at hand, he probably didn’t expect to abandon his place for so long. It gives you solace that he doesn’t regret it.
You drop the million memories of yesterday’s sunset burning into your eyes and everything that introduced it. The drunk words and the begging.
And then drop everything that followed afterwards; more pleading, more touching, more confessions that were in no way uttered through inebriate but not quite through sobriety either.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks.
You drop all the remembrances to focus on the moment; just to make sure that it’s real. So you ask, “Why didn’t you wash your hair there, too?”
For a moment, you see a flicker in his eyes, short-lived and quick; and his answer shoots out even more rapidly, “Just so.”
He emphasises his admission with a shrug of his shoulder, but it’s not nearly as convincing as he anticipates. Not buying a word, you push again, “C’mon.”
“I swear.”
“I’m curious now, though.”
There’s a momentary drop of silence before Jungkook hums, thinking as though he’s crafting a plausible excuse. Then, he says, “I didn’t wanna be away for too long.”
“…Why?”
“Why would I want to be?”
Ah…
Hmm. Well, maybe that’s enough for now.
Maybe he’s still not used to laying his secrets open. Maybe you need to practise patience, too, and stop digging like that.
You know that’s not all there is, but you certainly understand that it’s not a lie after all. Despite the pause and the obvious way his brain racked for a reason, his tone is genuine. You’ve experienced his insecurities before — that’s not what it was this time.
So you focus on the steering wheel instead, turning it left and away from the truck you drove way too close to. Your distraction might kill you — right there, next to you, clearing his throat and sitting up.
“Oh,” he says, segueing, and you let him, “wait, I forgot. Could we stop by at Yoongi’s for a sec? I wanted to see how he’s been doing.”
An abrupt change in topics, but not too abstract. As someone merely acquainted with the man, you’ve been collecting info on his state from Jimin; of course Jungkook would drop by personally.
You take a look at your digital watch; it’s barely ten and you don’t need to get away before 10:45. Taehyung agreed to meet with you to accompany you to your new potential flat again, so you should have time for a detour.
But.
“Is he…” you start, “gonna be okay with me being there?”
“Why?”
“I mean, just ‘cause… You know. We weren’t the closest for a while.”
Jungkook’s forehead wrinkles in new perplexion, muttering a few words. It takes a couple seconds — but eventually, he figures out that you’re not referring to Yoongi and yourself, and his expression changes immediately.
To subtle pain, you’d guess, like he doesn’t want to relive the memory. Like it never happened; like you weren’t two pieces of the same shattered heart this entire time.
But then he sighs, a hand wandering to your thigh. He kneads it softly, as a reminder to himself and to you that the past isn’t transpiring right now; that you’ve finally breathed and waded through it.
His optimism is encouraging when he says, “Nah. He thinks you’re cool.”
“I guess,” you mumble. You tap the steering wheel nervously, lips in a thin line before you add a hushed, “And if not, that’s alright, isn’t it? Like, hey, as long as you like me? Yeah, I shouldn’t overthink it…”
Jungkook releases air through his nose. You perceive a subtle shake of his head, as if to scold you, hear him say earnestly but gently, “Don’t worry about me. I don’t just like you.”
And whether casual or not, his words engulf your body immediately, like a soothing warm touch across your chest, yet effectively freezing your beating heart in place.
You can’t pinpoint whether the weight of his own words ever affects him as much as it affects you, or whether harbouring these emotions has become a familiar habit to him. At least to you, his tone is conversational and promising, perhaps even subliminally reassuring.
“At the very least,” he continues, “he’ll never disapprove of you the way Jimin disapproves of me.”
Which… snaps you back into reality for a second.
Your friend’s name is connected to more than mere dislike for the man next to you; currently, you think of dark nights and lamp-lit streets. After-midnight shenanigans and near tears in your own car, driven by the man who broke and mended your heart.
It reminds you of a blurry picture; two guys standing near an entrance, the older of them patting the other’s shoulder; smiling at him.
You do wonder if it was a fabrication of your mind.
“Forget Jimin,” you tell Jungkook, speech broken when you take another left and resumed when broader streets start. “Also. He did say he’s growing fond of you.”
“Because you like me. I still need to prove my worth to him.”
You tut.
“Kook, you don’t need to do anything. He’ll come around eventually. Just be you.”
“It’s fine, honestly.” He leans in, nudging your elbow, echoing you with a teasing undertone as he says, “As long as you like me.”
You love it when the initial nature of your relationship breaks through the mist of newfound passion; when you find the foundation of what you were, remembering how you landed here.
Which is why you bite back a laugh the moment you suppress a sassy, teasing remark, as if on reflex. One steer shy from pulling into a parking lot, you breathe out. If you halted here now, you’d kiss him, you’re sure.
But you merely laugh, squinting your eyes as you say, “You’re okay.”
Yoongi’s apartment, now inhabited by only one instead of two people, lies a couple miles from the campus. Jungkook guides you through the streets, jumping from one harmless topic to another — you reach his friend’s place a lot faster than you expected.
The building stands at a quiet place, surrounded by mid-high trees that give the grey colour of the complex a bit of liveliness. You walk to the entrance laughing about something stupid, a subtle nudge of his shoulder here, you pushing against his arm there.
But despite the familiarity and whatever occurred last weekend, it’s still odd jumping into the girlfriend role just yet. The word itself won’t even roll off your tongue very easily so far because you can’t believe a thing about this new reality.
So your hand dangles next to his awkwardly. Your thoughts keep drifting, registering half his sentence at times. What-if situations of gentle kisses and upcoming nights spent together tighten your chest.
Jungkook’s speech is clear and fluent, so you don’t know what your impact on him is exactly. At least he’s made sure you do have one on him — but you still wish you had a map through his mind to understand every thought he houses for you. Every emotion.
On the way up you feel a little dizzy; whether it’s due to the circular shape of the staircase or his proximity, you don’t know. You only realise that something’s still bothering you when you’re halfway up, coming to a halt with one foot on the next step.
“Okay, seriously,” you say, and he turns to you immediately, puzzled as he drops to the same level as you. Close to you.
“What?”
“You said you didn’t wanna leave,” you repeat, still stuck on the hair washing and staying longer thought, “why not?”
The answer could be simple. Could be rooted in emotions and the confessions you later uttered — but there must be something more. You saw it in the brief feeling flashing across his eyes, sitting in the passenger’s seat with silence sealing his lips.
Maybe something happened… because something always happens.
“You’re still thinking about that?” Jungkook questions, eyes wide in disbelief; lips pouting.
“No secrets, right?”
This seems to snap him out of all mysteries, last night’s conversation travelling to the forefront of his mind. But something about your curiosity amuses him. He wraps the fingers of his left hand around the staircase reeling, head dropping with a delicate smile.
His hair hides his eyes, but you know they’re sparkling; voice a mild drizzle when he starts, “It’s…” He draws in, inked digits touching your elbow before moving up your arm absentmindedly. “Don’t worry so much. It’s nothing harmful at all.”
You wait. Let his thumb graze your neck, up to your chin.
He sighs, almost exasperated in a way. “You speak in your sleep, you know?”
Wait. What?
You blink, thoughts disoriented. The staircase is dimly lit, but you recognise the slight upward curve of his lips; more empathetic than teasing.
So you still do?
“Huh?” you make.
“I think you dreamed of waking up a couple times? You hadn’t, though, and it’d always be something about being alone again.”
Again.
The word reverberates through your mind, dragging and stretching. Didn’t you once read that a broken heart is akin to serious rehab, accompanied by withdrawal symptoms and slowly healing scars?
You guess your heart was hurting more than you already knew.
“Okay,” you say, nodding when he does, thumb lifting your head when you drop it. You swallow thickly. “What did I say exactly?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “I don’t know anymore. Something about me leaving. And I was scared of waking you up while gone ‘cause you’d actually think I’d left.”
You hum. Allow yourself a moment to process the info; you seek out fragments of your dreams, but you draw a blank. You feel guilty about his concerns, yet relieved. Vulnerable. And somewhat reassured.
“I’m sorry,” you finally say.
Your voice is barely above a whisper — less because of the conversation. More because of the touch on your cheek. It’s soft against your skin, and you shiver. The flutter in your chest is only just bearable.
That’s the thing about falling in love. It’s sweet — so much sometimes that it twists your guts. You’re in so deep, you could hurl.
“Nah. You don’t need to worry about this anymore, okay?” he murmurs.
His eyes dig into yours. Dark and shiny through his healthy tresses, livelier than ever. Sincere.
You, on the other hand, must look unconvinced without intending to, because his mouth aligns with yours soon after.
He exhales, tilting his head, and says, “Look,” leans in, leaves a featherlight kiss against your cheek, right next to his thumb, “I mean it.”
Guess being with him comes with occasional mental blackouts. And regular arrhythmia. The palpitations behind your ribs are almost ridiculous; instead of gripping your own chest, you grasp his shirt immediately.
Lightly, as if you could collapse without this anchor.
He lets you pull him closer just a little, whispering as if someone could hear, “What’s wrong?”
Vulnerability hidden, you blink again, and joke, “Nothing. Just thought you were gonna kiss me.”
Jungkook smiles. His nose brushes against yours, toying a bit, and his bunny teeth make him look somewhat younger when he voices, “You want me to kiss you?”
“I always do.”
Your grin is playful, but your heart is pounding in your chest. Who would’ve thought the journey from a car to an apartment could be so long, so thrilling?
His snicker is gentle and canorous, knees careful against yours. Your heartbeat accelerates some more, rose-tinted lips opting towards their goal. You part your mouth, ready with a deep breath.
But the two of you are always subject to disturbances — so you’re disappointed but not surprised when you hear rushed steps on top of the staircase, strolling down and crossing your path just when Jungkook backs away.
The stranger passes by you with initial surprise in his eyes, not expecting you, but soon gets over it and drops his gaze again. And once he’s gone, Jungkook winks, a hand on your back pushing you forward gently.
“Later,” he says.
You know as you ascend the stairs.
Know that with the ease with which you handle your feelings for each other, you’ll strive towards a future where you won’t be haunted by dreams of being alone. Where you won’t fear his departure, and where his kisses won’t be interrupted by this cruel world.
The building reminds you of when you’d frequent the dorm you used to know. The walls and hallways are similarly built, narrow and somewhat cheap. They look like most buildings from the inside do, honestly, but you like the pleasant illusion the nostalgia brings.
Even the bathrooms are located near the end of the hallways; Jungkook once told you that Tae and Yoongi have their own kitchen, unlike him back when he still housed his dorm. But there’s a communal bathroom here, too; allegedly one reason why Tae moved out.
The only thing that separates this place from Jungkook’s old dorm is the subtle difference in scent. Not pure testosterone.
You smile.
The mood doesn’t match with what you felt back in June at all.
Back when you stomped to Jungkook’s dorm, furious about yet another insignificant issue, you didn’t think your fingers would ever be brushing his like they are now. Or when you escaped the rain and entered the building’s warmth, your umbrella leaving behind a trail of raindrops.
Your relationships, your priorities, your emotions. Your universe changed faster than the seasons.
As you walk past a random door, Jungkook cranes his neck, staring as if he could x-ray-glare a hole into it and glance at what lays behind it. Perhaps he’s thinking back, too.
You don’t know about all the things he experienced throughout the years there. Part of your heart stings because you remember you weren’t the only girl who ever frequented his place.
But you still left an impression — if the current status of your relationship isn’t proof of it, then the sudden touch along the back of your hand certainly is. A thumb following a vein blindly, opting to grasp your palm into his, yet retracting when you finally come to a stand.
The digit caressing your skin lifts to the door, and his knuckles knock three times, rhythmically. Your chest constricts as you jump back into the moment, probably half as nervous as you’d be if you met Jungkook’s parents.
A moment stretches as you wait for Yoongi to open, allowing yourself just another spiralling thought as you imagine actually daring a meeting with Jungkook’s parents. It’s too early to think about it, isn’t it?
It’s just.
Since yesterday, you’ve created a dozen different scenarios in your head, ranging from a civil, calm conversation with his father to a full snap. Half of you wants to know his genuine thoughts on his son’s sorrows; the other half wants to rage and then bolt away.
Ugh.
When the door swings open, your hand flashes to Jungkook’s. A startled instinct, even though nothing about the action was surprising or scary. But he doesn’t mind — of course he doesn’t.
His eyes rush to yours for a second, warm and somewhat thrilled, his smile permanent. And then he looks back at his friend, quietly squeezing your palm, the shy smile soft as he greets, “You’re walking without clutches, huh?”
Yoongi doesn’t respond right away. He looks from Jungkook to you and back. His gaze isn’t very telling, but you find amusement in it. If you weren’t so ridiculously and inexplicably nervous about his upcoming statement, you’d laugh.
Intently, he grants a peek at your entwined hands, and when he looks at the two of you again, he starts…
Smiling.
Gummies all out, a tiny laugh thrown in between before he says, “Ohoho. You’re here, too?”
The smile turns into a sly grin, a hand clutching the frame of the door. You guess he’s not as balanced after all. Possibly just abandoned his clutches for the short way from the couch to the door.
“I can totally go,” you tell him, the teasing tone missing; soft and small instead.
“Why in the world would you?” Yoongi steps aside carefully, nodding the two of you inside. You oblige, hearing his voice behind you jest, “Now, would you look at that. Did I do that?”
Jungkook automatically drops on the chair at the tiny dining table, like he’s arrived home, and you follow; make yourself comfortable on the seat next to him. There are three chairs, as though carefully chosen for the pair of friends who used to live together and a guest.
Next to you, Jungkook huffs, leaning back as he watches his friend plop onto the chair in front of him, and asks, “How would you’ve done that?”
“Well, you guys gathered at the hospital because of me.”
Right. Good point.
If he just knew how that night played out. Actually, you think he just might, yet not quite aware of its severity.
“Not because of you,” Jungkook promises, “I just charmed her again.”
You laugh. So does Yoongi.
He isn’t irritated or taken aback by the younger’s boldness; in truth, he seems entertained. Arms crossed, eyes small and grin wide. He half mocks, “The young ones are charming for sure these days.”
“Spoken like a true Grandpa,” Jungkook remarks. You press your lips into a thin line, but with a faint smile. You only listen; you’re in the territory of two friends who spend their time roasting each other. You’re not on that level yet, so you observe. “But I had to.”
“You had to, huh?” you joke. Okay, observation broken. Your body tilts towards him. “You didn’t need any of your charm for… this. But still good to know.”
Because you would’ve been putty in his hands, no matter what — charm or not.
"Can confirm," Yoongi agrees, nodding towards his friend, "that he was also a proper mess the last couple weeks. Very out of character."
Your eyes roll to the side to catch a glimpse of him, but the moment you detect the rosy dust on Jungkook's cheeks, you avert your gaze immediately.
Admittedly, the guilt in the middle of your chest is undeniable. But there's comfort in knowing you were never the only half who was deeply, perpetually falling.
Yoongi scratches his temple, doesn't meet your eyes; possibly shy when it comes to conversations like these. But he sounds warm and gentle when he says, "I'm really glad you guys are back."
You’re similarly timid, feeling strange. As if someone’s congratulating you on a fresh marriage. Or maybe that’s just the emotion you want, need to feel.
You say, “Thanks.” And then, ever-so-terrible with compliments, add a little, “Let’s say it was you. Double thank you to the man of the hour.”
Yoongi pulls a grimace hitherto unseen; it doesn’t faze Jungkook, but the Joker-esque grin and wide-eyed nod have you bursting into laughter. His friends are pleasant, you think.
If there was a way to lure Jimin in and convince him of this group’s collective appeal, you wouldn’t hesitate. There’s only a limited time you want him to play the petty, protective friend.
“So, how have you been?” Jungkook eventually asks.
Yoongi rubs the corner of his eye, stretching his injured leg under the table, “Never better. The bank is surviving without me. Besides, I haven’t gotten around to making some music in a while.”
“Tae did tell me you were enjoying your days off.”
Jungkook reacts with a tiny chuckle, but your eyes widen. You let him finish his sentence, and then spit, “Wait, wait. You make music?”
“Oh, I mean… I’m not any good,” he explains, wiggling a hand, a little startled as if he forgot you didn’t know yet. “I just. Make a few beats every now and then and write my own bars and stuff.”
“Wait, rap?” You stare between the boys, to and fro, only a little offended that you didn’t know you had a brooding future musician in your midst. “Can I hea—”
“No.” The answer is immediate. You pout. “Before you ask, I am way too much of a coward.”
“He’s amazing,” Jungkook intrudes.
And you whine, “Unfair, Yoongi.”
He imitates your expression, leaning back, copying your stance, and answers in the same childlike tone, “Warm up to me first! I’ll show it to you one day.”
“One day I’m gon’st hear it,” you declare, overly dramatic with your chin up, “you have my taste in music, you know? I know I’ll like it.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“I can try.”
Yoongi blows a raspberry. You’re not sure what you expected; maybe subtle hostility. But the sense of casual camaraderie is refreshing; lounging comfortably in his living room was a picture far from your mind until now, and you think he enjoys the unforeseen gathering, too.
Because after a moment of stillness, a faint smile touches his lips, his voice back to normal and deep as he remarks, “It’s nice that you guys came. I get bored here a lot.”
Right. You kept wondering.
You don’t dive into the matter immediately, instead drenching your voice in a teasing lilt, “Even though Jimin visits you?”
“Shut up.” Mock exasperation rolls his eyes as Jungkook appreciates your joke, one foot pressing against yours under the table. “No. It’s just been lonely since Tae moved out. It’s a two people thing with two bedrooms.”
He shrugs his shoulders, attention fully on you. Jungkook either doesn’t have much to say or doesn’t want to interrupt. Only listens.
“Living here alone feels like I’m wasting space and money,” Yoongi finishes.
Curiosity piqued, you probe, “What did Tae say when he left?”
“He offered to let me move in with him. But that’d be pointless.”
“Why so?”
“He’s awesome for offering, but I think he wanted his own place, you know? Why would I intrude then? But I did tell him I’d look for another place.”
“Have you been?” you ask. You still remember how happy Taehyung looked last time you met him alone.
How he spoke so highly of a life on his own, gladly interrupted by the occasional visits Eun granted him. Yoongi, you think, would probably benefit from acquiring his own place, too — one that doesn’t remind him that someone left him behind, inhabiting a vacant space thought for two.
“Every now and then,” Yoongi admits. “Will think about it some more once my leg’s healed.”
You nod in understanding, a thoughtful hum escaping your lips. Yoongi soon leans forward, naked arms on top of the table, and delves into a discussion about the rising costs of rent.
He outlines the challenges of finding the right place in the bustling city, and explains his worries about the empty space in a too-large apartment. And you listen intently.
But as minutes pass, you can’t help but notice the contemplative silence Jungkook has fallen into.
It’s always the same with him — thoughts you can’t read, questions you need to postpone.
Because you do glance over at him, observe the distracted furrow of his brow, the distant look in his eyes. You understand he’s once again lost in unknown thoughts, and you sense how jumbled his mind must be.
But you still decide to hold off for the moment, out of respect for the ongoing conversation. You don’t focus on addressing his apparent preoccupation until it keeps going until later, way after you’ve bid Yoongi goodbye.
“Why do you seem so reserved?” you ask in the car, his home your new destination.
It must be around quarter past ten; you should still be able to meet Tae within half an hour. Yet, despite the brooding rush, you can’t help but wanna drag out the ride, finish this conversation.
“Hm?” he voices.
Did he not hear you? Maybe.
You sigh, seeking an available parking spot. You’ve already turned into his street, way past the park, halting close to his entrance. The engine dies, sudden silence inside the vehicle.
“Okay,” you turn towards him, forearm against the wheel. “You’re a lot less enthusiastic now. What’s up?”
He looks distracted. Drags his teeth over his full, pink lower lip hard enough for you to repeat, “Hey. What’s wrong?”
“Uh.” Cue big boba eyes flitting to you. “I was just. Thinking about something.”
“Wanna share?”
“Yeah. Yeah, uhm. I swear I’m not trying to be mysterious, just. Not sure how to phrase it.”
He’s easing himself into this whole thing. The entire opening up act and being fearless with his feelings. So you don’t push him, but encourage, “Try. If not now, then maybe later, though?”
“No, no. Now is fine.” He frees his eyes off the dark bangs when he shakes his head a little, preparing to voice his hidden thoughts. Then, he breathes, “Yeah, so…”
One more second.
And.
“What if you dropped your plans of moving into that apartment?”
Oh. What?
Does he mean what you think he means…
There are only two options, right? And you choose to go with the one that would embarrass you less if it turned out wrong.
“Should I… do you think I should stay with my family?” you ask, your voice cautious.
But when his hands shoot up, immediately denying your assumption with round eyes, you breathe out through your nose. Relieved when he clarifies, “No, not at all. I mean, it’s up to you, but that’s not what I meant.”
So then…
“So you’re saying—”
He interrupts, rushing before he can back down, “Move in with me. And Yoongi could take the apartment you were considering.”
Fuck.
You didn’t expect your heart to jump up to your throat like that. It’s a day full of brief heart failures. You barely know how to react anymore.
You stare. Then stare a bit more. And eventually, you simply ask, “Really?”
“Yeah, I mean…” He gulps, averting your gaze all of a sudden before it lands back on yours. You chuckle quietly, unprompted, and it boosts his confidence. “You stayed at mine for days and it worked. It could… you know— keep working.”
The suggestion lingers like a fresh breeze, grazing your cheeks and twirling around you like a soothing force. He beams — though subtle, he seems to interpret the simultaneous rise of your eyebrows and your lips immediately.
Still, he inquires, “I don’t know… too soon?”
Technically yes. But then again, no. Because he’s right — you’ve already experienced a piece of heaven, tasted the bliss of domesticity with Jeon Jungkook.
“You really are serious about this, yeah?”
“Only if you want me to be,” he counters, less tense than before, but a hand rubbing in nervous circles over his knee, “if not, then I was absolutely joking.”
An awkward, little chortle fills the small space of the car; you shake your head, teeth out and smile bright. There’s sweetness in knowing that his affection is real. That the thought of shared future pains, joys and days — that it’s all actually become so unbelievably real.
The car is cool in the shadow, but you feel a strange heat coursing through your body. At the end of the street, you see the sunlight brighten the moment he laughs. Fitting.
The crinkly eye smile softens when he reaches for your hand, pulling it off the wheel and wrapping it in his. There’s an automatic reaction in your chest, a constant racing when he says, “I mean it, though.”
Brief pause. He looks down to your fingers.
“I think I got used to having you there. And then, at Yoongi’s I had this… I don’t know, overwhelming urge to tell you. That,” his teeth worry his lip, releasing it softly, “I want you next to me for as long as possible.”
You understand.
He means every minute that society and norms don’t force you out of the house. At nights and in the mornings, on off days and holidays. To fall asleep next to his presence, to wake up on the same mattress, too.
And the longing is undeniable; you know that it is. But you’re already swamped with decisions as it is — could you call off the apartment right here, right now? Rethink all you discussed with the landlord, Taehyung or yourself?
Life decisions are harder than that, and despite all the wants infiltrating your body, you can’t dive into this without a couple more following thoughts.
You keep gazing into his smouldering eyes, more intense when he looks up. Let their effect send a thrill down your spin, a surge of yearning through your veins.
And then, you acknowledge the need for prudence. You savour the moment, let the anticipation built, and flash a sultry smile to ensure that, yes, if not now, then one damn day, I’ll be yours entirely.
“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything to work more than this,” you admit, “but I need to—”
You halt. Words come hard to you these days; and the two of you are sensitive. It’s not easy to reunite after weeks of overthinking and distance; and you don’t want to provide more reasons to overthink.
But you forget that as sensitive as Jungkook is, he’s just as understanding and gentle, too.
Because he says, “You need to think. And I know you can’t just pack your things and move over, I just— I wanted it out there.”
“I know. I know.”
“And I,” he continues, “I actually thought you were gonna say no right away since you’re getting out of your childhood home just now, so naturally, you would wanna be alone for a while and—”
You lean forward, pulling your hands out of his grip. His eyes shoot down, baffled and confused, but you don’t give him a second to think or speak. In a moment’s notice, his cheeks are squished between your palms, his bunny face now akin to a duck.
“I don’t want to be alone. I’ve been alone all my life,” you tell him; Jungkook eyebrows furrow in empathy and worry, but you smile, “I don’t wanna be anymore.”
His expression and voice are dorky when he speaks, first words incomprehensible. You let go, watching the red splotches on his cheek, and he repeats, “Is that a yes?”
“It’s… I don’t know. A to be continued.”
“I’ll live with that.”
You don’t know if it’s the electrifying prospect of a life together or the confidence he follows his statement up with, but the insanity burns wild in your head. Untamed and dizzying.
“And I’ll wait for however long.”
“I didn’t even ask, I’m sorry… but are you starting work later today?”
You stand in the middle of Taehyung’s living room, a hand over your eyes to protect them from the bright sunlight. He’s busy piling the saucers and the cups, and you wait as he drags a vocal in thought.
“No, no. I’m off today.” He stands, and you automatically walk the short distance to the kitchen, lingering at the door frame. “Need the afternoon for an appointment at the doc. So yeah.”
“Oh. Everything okay?”
He doesn’t speak yet, dishes in the wash basin too loud. They clink and rattle; the moment you’ll move to an apartment by yourself, you’ll have to wash them yourself, too.
Maybe you can make your place as aesthetically pleasing and beige as Taehyung did. You don’t know — you couldn’t imagine much today nor discuss further details about the contract and rent and general house rules.
The landlord bailed on you last second. And Taehyung sacrificed over an hour that he could’ve spent keeping Eun company between her morning lessons.
You apologised the second you entered his apartment instead, thankful for the invitation to tea, yet harbouring guilt for wasting his time. But Taehyung proved incredibly kind, waving off your concerns immediately.
He asked, playfully offended, “So you’re saying a tea party with me is a waste of time?” And then he laughed, immediately shaking his head, “Nah. It’s fine. Am glad someone finally prefers tea over coffee, too.”
So now you’re here.
“Yeah, just a check up,” Taehyung answers, “vamps drew my blood and will tell me today if it’s good or not.”
“Interesting way to refer to doctors,” you admit, backing away when he leads you to the exit. You need to be at work in forty minutes tops. “Good then.”
He hands you your blazer, silent for a moment before he says, “Talking about feeling unwell.” You look up, arm halfway through the blazer’s sleeve. “What were you doing getting shitfaced like that?”
“Uhm…”
Word travels fast. Your cheeks heat up, fingers curling into fists. You smack your lips, letting out a tiny laugh, and ask, “Eun told you, huh?”
“Mhm. Scolded her for taking you to the bar and leaving you alone.”
You sigh.
You should’ve guessed that she’d tattle. And of course you might appear like the helpless, heartbroken girl, seeking comfort in alcohol, dark clubs and blue neon lights. It’s a little embarrassing, actually.
“Kook was there, though,” you defend.
“I know. I called when he was still at your place.”
Huh? What else did he do when you were asleep? Painted a Louvre-ripe masterpiece, probably.
Taehyung decodes the dozen questions in your stare, tumbling until his back leans against the wall. He explains, “We just talked for a sec. He sounded worried, so I didn’t prod too much. Just don’t do these things anymore, okay?”
Huh…
You can imagine it well. Partly because you remember the way he looked at you that night: distressed beyond belief, giving you soft orders, insisting on help everywhere — the car, the shower, the bed.
But also because you know him.
And you don’t think you needed to see him in those very moments to know he must’ve brushed through his silky hair. Must’ve looked through your room, gaze stopping over your sleeping figure.
Voice strained on the phone, yawning, shaking his head because he must have been a little mad at you, but comforted that you were resting, too.
You remember the tone of his voice, soft as a piano tune but saddened nonetheless.
”What did you drink? You’re… in such a bad state.”
You shake the words off. God, he was there for you more than you’ll ever know.
You say, “That’s nice, though, Tae… I didn’t think you’d ever get so worried about me.”
“Hey. You’re still my friend,” he promises.
He’s possibly been the only person throughout this entire ordeal to not be pissed at you or annoyed by you. You never doubted that he still liked you.
“I might not know you inside out like Eun or Jungkook do, but you’re part of this group. So naturally, you’re important, too.”
You push your hands into the pockets of the blazer, gripping the car keys inside. Bashfully, you smile. His sincerity pumps warmth through you; it’s crazy how good belonging somewhere, to someone, can actually feel.
It’s refreshing. New.
“Wow,” you murmur, shuffling your feet, “thank you.”
“You’re glowing, you know. That’s nice.”
“Am I?”
He nods. “I can’t wait to see him glow either. A couple weeks were a couple too long.”
Those couple weeks felt like someone ripped out the hands of time, keeping them from moving. Your brain aged faster in that time, deep in a bottomless abyss. You don’t want to experience it again.
And you don’t want to imagine Jungkook in the same pit again. Looking for you, but bumping against walls, painted with his past that made him stumble back instead of pulling him forwards.
Your eyes trail down the hallway, looking at the small paintings and decorations on the wall. You take in the furniture, inhale the pleasant colours. Imagine his living room in its entirety, the sunlight seeping through the windows. Curtains pushed aside.
Your apartment could be like this, too.
But.
“Tae,” you begin. You wrap your fingers around your rattling car key; lick your lips. “Do you think I’d like it here?”
“Hmmm,” he voices, gazing down as if he could look past the parquet floor and to where your potential apartment stands nearly empty. “Yeah. I mean, I like to think so, because I’m very happy here.”
He stops abruptly, the tone of the last syllable not matching a sentence’s end. You wait as he smiles a little, creating a thought, “But you could be happy somewhere else, too. Happier even.”
His words hang in the air, a sense of both possibility and uncertainty tangible. You were wanting to venture into this new chapter of your life with hope, but also with trepidation.
Suburban areas are nice, but you opted for the heart of the city — the vibrant tapestry of dreams and opportunities. You didn’t expect the journey to be fraught with sudden doubts.
The best thing, however, is that doubts and dilemmas never seemed this… tempting.
You tell him, “There’s always a place that makes people happier, for everyone.”
“Yeah,” he said, voice tinged with wisdom. “Only, some people already know of it, and some keep searching for it.”
“And I am—”
You pause, anticipating for him to finish the sentence; he responds, “You gotta know.” There’s a playful twinkle in his eyes, support and acknowledgment hiding right behind — matching his words, “I’d be bummed if you didn’t become my neighbour, but. Also just happy you guys are happy.”
Too kind for this world.
In your endearment, you laugh, suddenly stepping forward for a brief, thankful hug. A silent gesture of gratitude for his friendship, no matter how shallow or new.
The people you surround yourself with offer endless reassurance, and you’re lacking the words to express your appreciation.
“Thank you, Tae. Eun’s right when she praises your constant respect for other people, you know?”
Taehyung, maybe a little perplexed, brings a hand to your back, patting gently as he states, “No worries. The worst is over.”
You hope so. God, you genuinely hope so.
You pull back, tucking your hair behind your ear and bid him goodbye with one last nod. Taehyung closes the door behind you with a humorous thumbs up, and you grin before it’s silent in the hallway again.
There’s a tiny window outside, overlooking the street down there and the cars flitting by. The area isn’t as peaceful as Jungkook’s — more lively and noisy. You can see the city’s river if you look far enough.
And as you step closer to the glass, you envision your own apartment again. You imagine the soft glow of the lamp before you go to sleep. The comfortable couch you want to plant in the back of the living room, curling up with work or your laptop or a cup of hot chocolate.
You picture the view of the city as you step to your open window, glancing out as the steam of your beverage swirls in the evening air. Contemplating the world outside.
But then you start rethinking Jungkook’s words, too. The idea of belonging and happiness, of domesticity and what could be.
And at last, you visualise what it’d be like if you didn’t see any of this — the lively street, the river in the distance. Wonder how you’d feel if the horizon looked different.
If you stared out and saw a different canvas instead.
The changes in your life are drastic in some way, but Jungkook always stays the same.
Your house lies quiet most of the time; as days pass, you frequent your room, then drop by in the living room, greeting the staff, grabbing dinner and retracting back to your beloved bed.
Jungkook’s apartment, baby-sized compared to your place, allows a much livelier atmosphere. Maybe because you don’t need to yell for him to hear you from another room. Or maybe because it’s just the two of you.
Perhaps even because you find solace in the couch, in the smaller smart TV in front of it, the glass table, the carpet, the homely furniture in general. The scent reminds you of wood, but you connect it with him, too.
It’s different from the room you grew up in. Different from the luxurious chimney and marble you’ve seen all your life. And you must admit that you enjoy it a lot more, too.
One of the few reasons why your mood changes from exhausted to merry the moment you knock at his door on Thursday. He was expecting you, because when he opens, he beckons you inside immediately, pulling you in and planting a generous kiss on your cheek.
A smooching sound accompanies it, his foot closing the door as he suggests, “Dinner first or TV?”
“Shoes.” You laugh. You slip out of your thin jacket before tackling your snickers quickly, your clothes suddenly itchy and uncomfortable. “Shoes first, and then shower? Can I?”
“Yeah, of course.”
It’s not the first time that you’d be doing it. But there’s still something new and pure about this new chapter of your life; one that comes with polite questions and reinventing reality, apparently.
Redrafting life as you knew it and striving towards something better.
“I knew it, actually,” he says, forefinger wiggling, “I put a fresh towel on the washing machine. Also had a handful of your shirts here, so there’s one of those on the towel, too. And my joggers… Sorry, you left none of those, uhm—”
He’s started walking ahead, scratching behind his ear, but when he notices you not following, he looks over his shoulder. Blinks at you, staring into his living room and back, innocent voice unsure, “Come?”
“Yeah. Yeah, just— you didn’t have t—”
“I know,” he interrupts, breathing a sigh in faux frustration, “I know I never have to. But I figured you’d wanna shower.”
“…Thank you, Kook.”
You wish you could say more; express your gratitude the way you want to. At least your body is jubilating, craving the hot steam of the shower. Starving further for some peace when you step into the bathroom and detect the neatly placed clothing.
Jungkook halts at the door, gripping its frame, a little shy as if you didn’t breathe each other in for the last couple of weeks and months. He’s looking at you, waiting for something, and when you raise an eyebrow in curiosity, he snaps out of whatever daydream he was in.
“Oh. Right,” he mumbles, cheeks flushed, “sorry. I’ll leave. Can heat up the food. Or, or do you wanna order in?”
“Anything’s fine.” He nods. Opts to walk away, big hand flattening his hair at the back. It takes a moment for your heart to riot as you watch him leave, immediately babbling, “Actually. I was—”
Returning within a moment, he looks alarmed. Less so when you point a thumb to the shower and suggest, “Do you wanna join?”
“You in the shower?”
No, doofus. Join to watch the washing machine unsoil your sweaty clothes.
You clear your throat. “Yeah?”
“I uhm… Is that okay?”
Goddamn. Redrafting life as you knew it, you said.
You just didn’t expect the two of you to still tip-toe around each other. Seems you still have a lot of adjusting to do.
You try to break the ice.
“Acting like I’ve never seen you naked.”
“No, I know,” he responds, “I was just thinking that you…”
You can’t quite decrypt what he’s trying to say, but you do perceive the flash of concern in his eyes. It’s a tiny glimpse, barely there; but you see it. And you think about it.
Try to understand, let moments pass — until you’ve grasped his thinking.
The night he helped you clean up was the last time you stood under a showerhead together; maybe he thinks you’re still connecting it to the night’s trauma or borderline dangerous intoxication. And perhaps you’re wrong.
But you still take a breath, and then segue, “Already took a shower, didn’t you?”
You know he did. He’s addicted to cleanliness, sensitive to scents; he hoards diffusers, skin care products and new underwear like a treasure. And showering is always the first thing he goes for, a beeline to the bathroom after work out sessions and intense summer days.
You follow up with, “It’s okay, if you did. I’ll just go alone and hurry to dinner, then?”
“No, no… No, it’s fine.” He starts his sentence fast, but slows down halfway through, awkwardly. “Of course I can join. What’s some extra refreshment, right?”
“That’s the reason, huh?” you mock, laughing when he shrugs his shoulder. “Keep acting like you’re not the biggest simp around.”
Your confidence boosts his own, too. The signature smile is soft, lips curved gorgeously, but the subtone of his words is teasing, and even a little cocky.
“Of course. I know, I know.”
“Come then.”
You offer a stretched hand, curling your fingers in and outwards, and he places his warm palm into it like a key to a lock. Albeit tense and nervous, your body feels good next to his. The telltale awkward signs of a new relationship don’t deter you from indulging in its sweetness.
So you’re not surprised at how quickly you undress, throwing each other’s clothes at the back of the washing machine and planting kisses whenever one of you bares their shoulder. Eyeing each other from bottom to top.
You think you ogle for a moment too long, though — and how could you not with the freaking silver chain dangling from his neck?
An exciting evening lies ahead, you can already tell.
It’s fresher now outside, and all of Jungkook’s windows are open. Despite the cosiness of the bathroom, you rush under the hot shower stream.
Only, it’s not as boiling as you’d like it to be. Jungkook starts and finishes his showers ice cold, so you screech when you meet water from the Antarctic. You jump on your spot, arms around your torso.
And when you allow yourself one single glance at him amidst the breathlessness, you notice that the asshole is doing it on purpose. Same old. Rouses core memories.
Jungkook wipes over your hair and your face, drenching them thoroughly. You only realise he’s smudged your mascara when he starts rubbing underneath your eyes gently, managing to get some of it off.
“Fuck,” you curse, “I forgot about that. Should I take it off first?”
The intention is to slip out, use one of his cleansing skin products and get the mess out of your face before stepping back to him. But you don’t make it far anyway; he yanks you back before your foot can even touch the mat.
And then, the moment passes in a blur.
Tense body back against his, he tugs you close. Holds both your wrists in front of your breasts, leaning in without a warning, and then — connects his dripping lips with yours.
If there was any space to gasp, you would. Instead, your fingers instantly dig into your hand, sharp nails scarring the skin. You move your fists, trying to touch him, but he holds you in place firmly.
That is, until his digits relax, trailing up your shoulder to your neck, jaw and then to your cheeks. Face in your grip, you let him control the pace. You find an anchor in his bicep, holding on; kissing isn’t enough.
You wish he could eat you up. Wish the tongue finally touching yours, swirling around it, was everywhere on your skin at once.
You feel a slight twitch underneath, right against your body; ready to devour, hopefully soon to explode. But Jungkook gasps for air when his lungs give out, allowing a break, backing away with your face still between his hands.
And then, he utters something surprising — something you didn’t expect in the heat of the moment at all.
“I was meaning to tell you something.”
“…Oh?”
“I’m uh. I’ve been meaning to tell you for days. I just never quite got around to it and we were so busy and tired all the time and—”
“What is it?” you break in, heart pounding at an unnatural speed. “I’m here now, so…?”
For a second, you expect this to take a whole different turn.
The database in your brain empties the moment you scour it for an answer, preparing yourself for molten knees and dissolving hearts. Or maybe, it’s already clarifying to liquid, jumping out of your chest and flowing down the drain along with the water.
But he doesn’t say what you anticipate. Though, what he does admit has your nerves glowing neon white anyway.
“So— the first night of my showcase. On my birthday?” he starts. You feel the muscles of your face change, and he sees it, immediately assuring, “No, no. Don’t worry. I was just gonna say that a guy came to me by the end of it? And—”
He lets all of it sound like an unsure question. But you think you know where it’s going — you hold your breath under the already suffocating water.
“And?” you prod.
“And turned out Namjoon invited him, and he’s kiiiinda a big shot in the art business? Like, he’s a gallery collector, he said. He’d invest in my art and acquire it and have it showcased in bigger museums for more recogni— I know!”
Your mouth and eyes opened halfway through his quick explanation, fingers back in fists, pressing against his solid chest and then moving up to hook in his silver chain. You’re restless in the congested space, suppressing the high pitched sounds.
He puts his hands on your hips, snickering in joy as he says, “Be careful before you slip.”
“You’re kidding!”
“Thankfully I’m not, angel,” he shakes his head, bangs sticking to his forehead, “not this time, at least.”
You raise a hand to his pec, tapping against it, “Wait. So just so I understood correctly — they’re gonna put up your stuff there for an even bigger audience to see, yeah?”
“I mean, the gallery is definitely far bigger than the exhibition I participated in.”
“Oh my god, Jungkook, the exhibition already had a shit ton of visitors!”
He nods, proving a point.
You feel an electric current in your blood. Pride, that’s what it’s called, too. You sling your arms around his neck recklessly, nearly falling, but you can’t be bothered as you exclaim, “This is so— I don’t even know how to react, Kook!”
And who could convince a big-shot art connoisseur so quickly after graduation anyway? Jungkook’s god given talents are never praised for nothing — you knew it. Fucking knew it.
Won’t make it anywhere, your ass.
“That’s so fucking awesome.” You stare, out of breath all of a sudden. God, if there was a way to express your delight. “When is it happening? Are you selling the one you showcased?”
“I don’t know yet. And no. That’s too… personal to me.” You blink, nodding. Still overwhelmed with how his pieces made you feel — of course they’d hit even harder for the artist himself. “He wants something in a similar style, though. I’ll make something new for him.”
“What’s it gonna be?”
It’s a simple question. You swear it’s nothing too deep.
But Jungkook’s gaze changes. An amused, delighted expression replaces a neutral one, head tilting to the side just a little. His lips, already slightly swollen from the kiss, move up, eyes kind and sugary.
If you only knew how your small details affect him, too. How you looking at him like this, expectant eyes split wide, innocent and gentle, shoots an arrow to his heart.
You just don’t know.
He brushes the hair sticking to your cheek back and tells you, “You’ll see. I’ve been working on it these days, but. Will show it to you when it’s done.”
You can’t even be mad. If it was up to you, you’d probably wait for the big day, too — can’t spoil the surprise, need to cry tears of pride and joy in public.
So all you say, deep from the heart, is, “You’re the fucking coolest person I know.”
“Nah—”
“The coolest.”
“Funny,” he retorts, as bad at compliments as you; throws them back like a boomerang, “thought the same when I met you at the party last year.”
“…Gross.” That’s what you say. But you still shake your head; overwhelmed, smile plastered to your face and cheeks hurting. “God, Kook.”
And that’s all.
You keep holding his stare, finally too tired of the distance to endure any longer — and then lean in. You stop a couple inches away, watch his head angle more, mouth steering towards yours. The smile is mutual, fingers seeking a spot to settle on on each other’s bodies.
Your heart monitor would be wilding right now — the effect of your lips meeting clear as day behind your ribs. And this time, you don’t stop.
The push against his chest is immediate, his feet slowly tumbling backwards. His tongue burns hot against yours, your lower lip fitting perfectly in the gap between his lips. There’s a sharp hiss when his back finally touches the tiles, mouth open but not leaving yours.
Teeth soon clash, and you opt for more of his taste, well aware that you just cannot kiss more than you already are. His hands move up and down, never settling, both your lips harsh and impatient. Your tongues keep moving in patterns, thirst never quenched.
You break the kiss solely for oxygen purposes, but he uses the moment to let his palm wander from your face to your hair, grabbing a patch. One hand pushes against the small of your back, though soon dropping to your ass, fingers between your ass cheeks, teasing the clenching hole.
Fuck.
The moan isn’t intended, but very welcome — you love the sound of it as much as he does, followed by his own. An automatic reaction. His hips indulge in the tiniest movements, length jerking against your body; no more than an inch of his fingertip pushing into your ass.
“Fuck, Jungkook,” you breathe, eyebrows furrowing, mewling against the corner of his lips. “More, now, please.”
It’s an attempt. Of course he won’t act that fast — you know him well enough. He’s been a soft gentleman often enough; but after holding back the past few days, missing it for weeks, you know it won't be easy on him either.
One of you will be on the brink of tears soon; until now, it’s usually been you.
You take a deep breath, agitated when he laughs. He retracts his hand, smoothing back his chaotic mane before leaning in for another peck. And that’s all it remains — interrupted immediately, saliva mixing with the shower water.
“I’m so fucking crazy for you,” he confesses; the shiver doesn’t hesitate crawling down your spine — neither does Jungkook, peppering your neck with kisses.
His actions are smooth — you let him do anything. Like, explore every little spot of your skin. From the softness of your face, down to the flesh of your ass, echoing hard when a flat hand slaps it out of nowhere.
You propel forwards, barely aware of your surroundings. The shower raining onto you is the only indicator of where you still are.
So when he turns you carefully, 180 until your back touches the tiles, you don’t realise his intentions for a moment. Only when he changes his approach, digging your shoulders hard into the wall, knocking you out of breath.
“Are you trying to—” you ask, but he interjects right away.
“Don’t question it this time, okay?” His face inches close again, teeth suddenly pulling and nibbling at your lip. “Just let us do. Lemme do, yeah?”
His chest presses against your tits before he backs away and palms your mounds, squeezing nearly painfully.
For only a heartbeat, though — he doesn’t stall further. Because another second passes before you’re turned in his grip, chest not touching his anymore, but the wall now. From behind you, he grasps your hips, dragging you back just a couple inches; enough to sneak his hand through.
“But whenever things get too much, you…”
You nod. Promise, “Will tell you. I will.”
“Good.” His cock pokes between your ass, and he spreads its cheeks. Lets the hardness rest between them, sliding up and down. “Gonna make you feel so good, though. Wanna make you feel so fucking good.”
Wow… wow, f—
Not that you were ever interested in it before, but…
Part of you wants him to shove it in anywhere. Wherever the fuck he wants. You’d endure all hour-long foreplay and pleas and tears for him.
And perhaps he’s thinking the same. Perhaps you even spoke it out loud — you wouldn’t be surprised if you did. But you choke on your spit when he says, “Missing the sex toys. Like… What do you think of new ones, hm? Someday, maybe. Like— like an anal pl—”
“Please,” you beg, “I’ll do fucking anything for you.”
Break in conversation. Then, “Holy shit.” He chuckles. Fuck — his voice is deeper now, isn’t it? “You’re being whiny. I thought you’re a badass business woman, but you’re so whiny.”
“Because— I can breathe when I work.”
“Ohh. And now,” he whispers, close to your ear, hand moving. Up and further up, stopping around your throat, as if he’s testing your statement. As if he could tell him anything about the state of your lungs. “Now we’re not as focused, right?”
“No thinking when I suck your dick.”
“Dammit. Really don’t wanna wait to fuck you numb.”
You’re shamelessly jittery, patience out the window. “Don’t then. Get to it now.”
“Nope. I know you’re not ready yet. And I’m not either… so—”
He steps closer, forcing your body further forward until your cheek is squished against the wall. His fingers leave your throat to find another target; something far more south, a lot more dangerous.
One small circle drawn around your clit, you gasp, hearing him ask, “You think you can come with just my fingers?”
“I don’t know. I honestly think I need—”
He chuckles, and you can’t help but laugh, too. You’re hilarious sometimes.
“You think you’re so smart. But we can still try, though.” He says it casually, as if the two of you don’t exactly know that he’s perfectly capable of pulling through. But his voice still softens when you don’t answer, “Hey. You wanna try, sweetheart?”
“Yes. Anything,” you convince him, “anything, Kook.”
“Good girl. The best, always.”
His touch vanishes. You let out a mildly confused sound, observing with an unfocused vision how he opens the shower door a little. He reaches for the towel on the washing machine, drying his fingers, other hand moving the shower head until it’s mostly wetting his own back.
It’s a tiny detail, really. You only told him once how action around the clit might become uncomfortable with hands priorly washed or wet, and it seems he remembered.
Your eyes shut when he returns to your bundle of nerves, massaging gently, skilled. It starts slow at first; you feel the hot wetness build in and around your entrance, the line between the shower water and your arousal fading.
Jungkook’s movements, calculated and systematic, only spur your body on. He’s always known what he’s doing; has analysed and explored what you want. How you want it.
It’s true heaven to you: the way he kisses your cheek. The way he draws moans out of you, the motions around your swollen bud rhythmic. Your back and limbs tingle; you don’t know what to do with yourself.
And when you can’t stand still anymore, Jungkook orders, “Stop that. You’ll break my jaw.”
“Sorry.”
Your apology is timid, tiny; he laughs. “You cutie… you’re adorable even in moments like these.”
You throw your head against his shoulder as if to oppose him, opening your eyes, looking straight into his eyes. Your eyebrows are kissing, tension between them, mouth agape.
And he adds, “Or maybe not.”
He lifts you up a bit, dragging your body along the wall — you didn’t even notice that you slid down this much, angled, ass darting out like this. But you also don’t mind the arm that rounds your torso, just underneath your tits, keeping you steady when he takes it up a notch and—
“Oh my god,” you squeak when he pushes two fingers in. “Yes, yes, please—”
The incoherent, random requests are his favourite. Most of the time, he knows better than you what you’re pleading for. Which is why he doesn’t stop this time; probably more in the mood to please you than tease you.
From this position, he can’t reach knuckles deep, but just enough to brush the walnutty spot inside. And to your surprise, the orgasm builds up fast; the first quiver takes over your knees, but you understand that this is nothing compared to what’s to come.
You press your hands to the wall, holding onto remnants of your sanity when he kisses your neck, and along your damp shoulders. His mouth is hot against your pulse, wet hair tickling under your jaw. He bites lightly; soothes the fleeting sting with his tongue. Vampiristic.
Like a sensual massage, well thought out, pornographic.
And then he picks up on pace. Whispers, “That’s right— we got this—”
He starts pumping into you; relishes your incomprehensible curses. The thumb over your clit and the impatience of his fingers inside are a dichotomy, and you don’t know what to focus on. Which is why you stop thinking altogether.
Jungkook takes a sharp breath, quiet whistling sounds included, and then groans into your ear when you do. He keeps his motions up diligently, fingers a bit deeper with each time your ass moves back an inch.
As an aid, he shifts his arm, too, pushing forward, palm pressing against your clit now.
And when you come, you melt. Nearly collapsing, you keep moving, on edge, every spot of your body in tremor. You can barely breathe; you’ve been nestled in the heat of the shower for way too long.
He notices your tremble in an instant, encourages, “Got it. Got you. Keep going, baby, c’mon.”
The peak is blissful; you don’t want to ever fall off the edge again. Want to remain in this starry, gorgeous ache. Your eyes could stay in the back of your head; the world may keep fading. And you don’t need to know where you are.
All you know is that your voice sounds odd, high when you pant, “Don’t go away yet.”
“I’m right here. Right here, got you,” he repeats, holding you upright.
Jungkook knows — knows how to get you from lowest lows to your highest highs. Today was as pleasant as a day at work can be; but if he’s ready to do all this to you on any other, worse day, too, you might never encounter grief again.
He scatters kisses all over your jaw when you’re done — busies himself as you catch your breath, swallowing, eyes closed. Once you’ve caught yourself enough to utter fragments of sentences at least, you tell him, “Something not human about you, Jeon.”
“Oh. Are we back to surnames now?” He cackles, soothing motions along your arms. “Are we gonna shake hands, too, once we’re done? Bow and say thank you?”
You shake your head, though the stupid smile doesn’t wait to spread on your face.
“You’re dumb,” you say.
“You make me dumb.”
He drops his touch, brushing your pussy again — maybe as a test. But you’re sensitive and vulnerable, closing your legs and opening your mouth in response. He’s sly; uses the moment to push two fingers in right away, pressing your tongue down.
And you, as challenge-accepting as ever, start sucking, tasting some of yourself. You wrap your hand around his, moving your head, chest still heaving from the exhaustion. Your eyes close slowly enough for him to see them roll back, a reaction to the images your brain creates.
Like, the thought of the member currently poking you replacing those digits. The prospect of emptying him entirely.
“Fuuuuck— wish my brain could take a picture of this and save it forever,” he says, voice strained.
You open your mouth, licking a strip along his finger, past the tattoo. “What’d you do with it?”
“Would… would bring it to the forefront of my mind,” Jungkook begins, reclaiming his hand and dragging it down to your waist, “and use it whenever you’re away.”
“Hmmm… and then?”
“Would just…”
He doesn’t continue. Only shakes his head, lifting his shoulders, stance desperate and wanting; maybe he’s even a little out of his mind.
You egg him on, “Show me if you can’t say it.”
It’s a surprise that he obliges, but then again, it’s not. You always forget just how weak he is — that his heart sits right there in your palms, his body a magnet to yours.
So you’re endlessly pleased when your eyes flit down to a hand around his dick. Stroking slowly, its head hard against your pelvis. And you manage to watch a tiny second longer until the floor beckons you towards it, down to your knees.
It’s uncomfortable immediately; slick and odd. But you’re distracted by your dry tongue, thirsting, ridiculously hypnotised by the cock dangling in front of you. And then his thighs… muscular and thick. You reach out to them, holding them, steering forwards.
Despite his delicate frailty, you don’t fare any better. Ready to bruise your knees like an obedient doll, eyes wide when you look up at him. You grip him softly, urging him to remove his hand, stroking in his stead.
You pass all pleasantries and hesitations, and dive in immediately — leading your mouth to the tip before wrapping your lips around it delicately. Determined, you let only a second pass, eager as you start moving right away.
Bobbing your head, you take him in as much as your gag reflex allows. He’s too big — it’s impossible to ever swallow him fully. But no matter how greedy you are, that’s it.
You don’t give into it all the way just yet.
Instead, you back away after another lick. Straighten your body, drawing in and repositioning until you can push your tits together around the stiffness.
His groan tumbles out of him broken, choked, a hand against the wall. His abs are rippling, bicep bulged, nipples tiny and perked. Dark brown. Eyes hazy.
You want to do so many fucking things to him — want to mount him. Pull his head back by his long strands. Want, need to kiss him, rub yourself on him, back and forth along his cock until his moans become uncontrolled. Sticky white cum sprayed over his tummy.
Your nails in your skin, yearning for more — that’s one of your billion thoughts.
Instead, you summarise your wants, whispering a single, simple, fucked out, “I…” You gulp down the knot. Shiver at your position, craving the hot water a little now. Then command, “Fuck my mouth.”
His eyes threaten to fall out of his head; like they always do. He knows it’s a constant reaction, too, it seems, because, “God. I’ll never get used to you saying this.”
“You better, though.”
“Right. Right…”
He caresses your face, pushes your hair back. Perhaps he’s had enough of the pace; because he soon reaches for your arms, compliant deer kicked out of his head as he forces your wrists up and crosses them against the wall.
One hand is all he needs to hold them in their place. One hand gripping them hard, disabling any movement of your arms.
You let out a strange, obscene sound, finding utter liking in this gesture.
But despite your pleasure, he still eases you into the process, the heart tattoo grazing your cheek. A touch so soft that you think he’s praising you, wordlessly and gently. Making sure you’re absolutely okay with whatever he does to you.
And you confirm it with another blink, stretching out your tongue, ready. Holding his gaze. Mesmerised and frustrated, he says, “You’ll kill me with the way you look at me.”
Jungkook fuels your confidence with vigour each time, eloquent through scorching heat, too. Because you don’t think you’ve ever smiled this self-assured before you knew him; or been certain about your power over others.
You used to be far more insecure than that, feigning ignorance and carelessness, but reevaluating your decisions every step of the way. Months ago, you could’ve never predicted such a shift in conviction towards yourself.
So it’s new to you, but invigorating at the same time, the grin you sport, the words you utter, “Killing you isn’t my intention,” when he doesn’t, you move your head towards the leaking head of his cock, awaiting destruction, “wanna make you feel more alive than ever.”
The breath tumbling out of his mouth is ragged, pinky finger twitching a tiny bit when you wrap your lips around the tip and then let it go with a plop again; like it’s a lollipop to you.
Your knees move closer to his feet, and he stretches his one hand to your shoulder, making sure you don’t get hurt on the slippery ground. But you’re far too distracted to appreciate the gesture just yet, even though you feel the faint tickling along your limbs.
“I got it,” Jungkook then says, back in charge, hands back on the protruding, thick veins.
He moves his hips forward, testing. You roll out your tongue once more, closing your eyes. Try to make more room in your mouth, despite knowing it’s a thing of impossibility. And to your chagrin, it takes only a few more seconds for you to be full already.
Taking in as much as your throat allows, you gag when you reach your limit, letting out a tiny cough, salivating. You still can’t move your arms; his fingers are like chains around your wrists.
“That enough?” he asks. “I’ll stop here, okay?”
You nod. Wait. When he doesn’t move, you start pulling back, and then push forward again immediately. Your tongue is drenched in absolute filth; the spit trails down your chin, and you wish it was his.
But that’s not the point of it all — you’re not supposed to comfortably bop your head back and forth, are you? Despite the daily softness between the two of you, you want to be used. Want all his greed.
And he knows. Asks, “What do you need?”
Of course you can’t speak. He’s aware of that; stares down at you as you breathe heavily around him, mouth stuffed to the brim. Cheeks aching from the circumference.
You moan around him, parting your lips, moving your tongue from under his dick to swirl it around it a little. You move back, tasting the liquid minimally dripping out of his slit. Fuck, you want all of it, in thick, sickening ropes, in loads and buckets.
“Won’t even back away to speak,” he teases, words contradictory, because he won’t allow you to take a break either. Shoves himself inside again; you’re embarrassed that you only manage half of his length. “The dedication is hotter than it should be—”
Full, coherent sentences. How?
But even his string of thought breaks when he starts in earnest. Filling up your mouth once more, as much as he can and then a bit more for good measure. You adjust to his movements, suck down immediately.
You don’t care about the loss of voice later; you want to eat him up entirely.
His strokes grow harder by the second, rock hard inside you. You move your head until the head pokes against the inside of your cheek, and the tight wetness affects him, his knees buckling by one single inch.
“Easy…” he whispers, shaking his head, water drops landing on your face. “Fuck. Wanna have you hanging off the bed one day. Wanna see my cock ram your throat…”
Easy, he said. He’s definitely not being easy on you, though. Not with these admissions. Not with his motions.
The thrusts aren’t just hard, but deliberate and controlled, too. Your head keeps pushing back, lightly touching the wall. You’re far over sucking his dick, way too obedient and submissive to define it like that.
No, you’re being fucked. Gagging and choking around him, sucking in the spit whenever only his tip remains inside, sounds lewd and specific. Coming from the back of your throat, wet, hot and bothered.
God, you wish you were strong enough to take him all the way down to the base, licking at his balls, feeling his twitching dick thumping at the very far back. But you guess this is more than enough for him, too.
Because he holds your wrists harder, a rope around them, digging into your skin. The free hand wipes your hair away again, your body sweat-soaked while the shower water still trickles down his back.
He holds you there; then reaches for your nipple; pinches it hard over your heavily heaving chest, pleased when you open your eyes and look up at him. Waterline damp — the dangling chain might just be one of the reasons for that.
“Bit more,” he mumbles, and you think he’ll surrender right there, inside your mouth.
Which is why you sit up straighter, more determined, licking at the underside of his cock when he drags it out a little. His balls hang in your face and you reach for them, tongueing, hungry, not wanting him to move away now.
He doesn’t. Not yet. Relief courses through you, swallowing around his thickness again. Rolling your eyes back, hearing subtle “Doing well, so well, angel”s, ignoring the pain in your arms as he holds them upright.
You hollow your cheeks when he buries himself in deep, struggling when he stops right there. He doesn’t move; your eyes well up harder. All air enters and escapes through your nose, and you’re shaking, holding his stare as he keeps his cock in place, absolutely still.
That is, until you can barely breathe anymore, nails digging into your palms, arms trying to escape. He doesn’t say a word yet, only lets your hands drop. Your shoulders crack a bit, and you shake your arms, filling up your lungs, your palms next to his feet.
His cock is covered in your spit when you look again; your gaping mouth and chin similarly drenched.
And only when your head stops spinning, does he hold his hands towards you, urging you to take them as he says, “Sorry, baby. You did so well, I…”
You grip his fingers feebly, getting up on weak knees. Instead of holding onto your hands, he soon wraps an arm around your body, pulling you up before he asks, “Less next time?”
“No,” the word comes out as a squeak, throat already affected, “I’ll always tap if I feel it’s too much. I promi— promise.”
“Good,” he praises, a kiss to your damp forehead. He turns the water off. “That’s all I want, baby. Look at me.”
You’re already exhausted, staring down, fatigue fuelled by the hot water. Your eyes flutter open as you meet his gaze, and he puts a hand to your cheek, thumb on your swollen lower lip.
“You’re so gorgeous,” he compliments; his hand must be heating up under your touch, “did you know? So sweet and stunning. It makes me sick.”
“Thought I was the only one. You…” He looks at you, and you hold him tight, smiling about your joke in advance. “You have such an effect on me, it makes me wanna throw up.”
Right. So in love, it makes your stomach turn.
“Please don’t,” he pleads, conjuring a tender eye smile. The wide grin is unreal. “And let’s get out of here. We can’t keep standing here.”
“Waste of water.”
“Yes, waste of water. That, too. And I should have some lube in the bedroom.”
Of course he’s as impatient as you — although you’re almost a hundred percent sure you could do without that stuff easily. The insides of your thighs are slippery, and you’re certain the shower wasn’t the sole reason for that.
Your legs feel weird, your body heavy when you finally get out. The cosy bathroom is filled with steam and heat, but at least you can breathe easier here than under the piping hot water.
The mirror is fogged up; you glance into it to check your state, but recognise nothing but your vague form. You wipe a stripe the size of your hand along it as you walk past, halting at the door. And when you look back, Jungkook is making quick, brief work on picking up the clothes you haphazardly threw to the side before.
“You don’t wanna do this later?” you ask, still fond.
It’s just him cleaning up the floor, but… you enjoy watching him do mundane things. You might never be able to explain why, but you do.
“Just throwing them into the washing machine. Will turn it on later,” he answers.
He straightens his body with a sigh when he’s done, sniffling as he usually does. His eyes are hidden behind his long hair, so he lifts both his hands to brush the soaked tresses back. The muscles of his arms are mountainous and firm. Tattoos ending at his shoulder.
He’s indescribably pretty like that. Looking up, lips parted, jaw chiselled.
You observe him for a bit longer, gaze trailing down his body. Small nipples, broad and sculpted pecs, six painfully visible rectangles of abs. Cock still mostly awake.
Fuck.
Crossing your legs, you bite your lips, one hand on the door handle. You take in the domesticity. The moment might be subtle and casual, but something about it is incredibly homely.
How you speak to each other, and how his washing machine is cleaning both your clothes. It’s the little things, isn’t it?
Your eyes are fond when you say, “Whenever it does happen… I can already imagine all of it clearly.”
“Hm?” He blinks at you. “All of what, baby?”
“Of being here with you. All the time.” His motions stop. He drops his arms, a strand falling back into his face, but he doesn’t care. Glances at you for a couple seconds until you smile and nod towards the door. “Let’s go.”
But it seems he changed his mind in this split second that you turn to the exit.
Because all of a sudden, just as he did before, he tugs you back. And just like before, you land against the wall, having him staring at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time. His voice is a whisper, enchanting, “Okay… you know what. Forget it.”
“Huh?”
“Fuck lube, okay?” His eyes are glued to your lips. Then to your pupils. He looks lost. “We can manage. Don’t need the bedroom… just you. Want you right now.”
“Jungko—”
You don’t anticipate it — so it draws a small moan out of you when his fingers suddenly graze between your legs, digging in for just a moment. Fingering you for a split second as you gasp — and then they disappear again.
He moves in to kiss your cheek. Just a peck first. Then his lips open against your neck, hand moving up your body and pushing your tit up. His tongue soon joins the fun, darting through his parted lips, sucking your tits hard. Biting, groaning, moaning.
“Jungkook.” You push your touch through his hair as he kisses his way further down, nibbling at your sides, and you whine, “Don’t wanna wait, Kook…”
His eyes are closed and his voice hushed, raspy and deep as he says between kisses, “I’ll be gone for a moment, baby. You’ll barely notice, I promise.”
Strange how he means distanced from your kiss, not from your body. Strange how you miss each other while in the same room, but not melted into each other.
You’re losing your mind. Throwing your head back, ruining your hair against the tiles. Eyes droopy and hazy, mind turning in various directions as you relish each touch and peck. Your body relaxes; all the weight of the world off your shoulders.
Jungkook fondles your body, caresses all of you, planting kisses on your tummy, your waist, your pelvis. Continues to tug at the flesh of your thighs with his lips. It feels like a massage, not painful but gentle. Careful as he hoists up one of your legs, throwing it over his shoulder.
And then… he starts.
His tongue flashes out to your clit. Parts your folds. It’s difficult from this position, but his pointy wet muscle paints patterns over your pussy. And you reel.
Jungkook truly is an artist. Knows to make you mewl, turns your breaths laboured. You move your hips, guiding his face closer with your hand in his hair, slowly riding it. The French kisses, the brush against your thighs… he’s…
God.
“God,” you echo, “I love this, I—”
He’s feasting. Letting out alluring sounds, spurring you on, and you almost topple over the edge. But Jungkook knows what he’s doing — leaves you yearning, moving away and up to you.
When he said he’d be gone for a moment, he truly meant it.
Your lip quivers when he looks at you, ordering a soft, “You’ll come together with me.” He raises your chin. “Okay? You and I together. Always.”
Must be a hidden message. He’s not just talking about sex anymore, is he? But him and you in one bubble, separated from the world. Nothing but you, you and you.
You barely wait another second. Instead, you immediately lurch forwards, initiating a kiss beyond sinful from the start. Teeth clashing, tongues feral. For a couple seconds you breathe into each other, letting out odd noises, his hand pulling your leg back up again and pinning it against the wall.
You’re on your tippy toes when his cock teases your entrance, his lips soon on your shoulder again. Cold chain brushing your skin. He’s sucking harshly, guiding his dick inside with determination. Sheer impatience is palpable in his touch and audible in his sounds.
The head of his dick parts your folds, diving in; and you let out a moan so lustful that he grows downright desperate against your shoulder. Standing here like this is hard, too; so he puts his palms on your ass, commands—
“Jump once.”
“What?”
“Jump,” he repeats, “I’ll hold you. Want you, please.”
“Okay…” you mumble. You put your hands on his broad shoulder, readying yourself, “Okay.”
And then you do — immediately wrapping your legs around him. And he lets you fall slowly, body pressed against yours, so you’re sandwiched between him and the wall; so he can guide his hardness back to your cunt.
You drop onto it slowly, carefully. Impaling yourself on him, inch by inch penetrating your insides. The more you take in, the deeper the crease between your eyebrows. And when he’s bottomed out, you feel like… yourself again?
Because what moment is more intimate than this? What moment allows you to crawl out of your shell more than this?
Even if in a crude sense, this is yet another definition of home. And every definition can be traced back to him.
“You feeling alright?” he asks, and you nod immediately.
“Is a bit weird, but…” you hold onto him, one hand moving to his face. You don’t finish your sentence; only nod, exhaling against his lips.
“Can I start?”
Another nod; and then he starts pumping in. Slowly in and out; you’re firmly in place against the wall, slipping just a little. His hands engulf your ass again — his strength is mind-numbing, and his sounds loud as he splits you in two.
Your eyes shut for a mini moment, and when they crack open again, they’re met with the still mirror. It’s fogging up again, yet still clear enough to make out Jungkook’s back; the form of his body. Your thoughts tangle up.
You’ve seen him shirtless a million times before, fully bare — but it might be the first time you’re enjoying this very perspective. And the entirety of him… leaves you gasping. Butt naked, ass muscles flexing, the triangle shaped back smooth. Where do his guts even fit?
They’re a blessing, those reflections, catching the way he’s standing, ramming into you. And then you, burying your nails into his shoulder blades, expression fucked out, body moving up and down the wall. Having things done to you by him.
You’re so fucking lucky.
You mutter, “Kook…”
“Yes, baby.”
“You look so good… so…”
“Mmmh, you do, too,” the sentence starts in a clear tone, but morphs into a whisper, “just… can’t see enough of you… shit, babe—”
He leans in, parting your lips with his, your tongues touching as he delivers a rough jab just once. And that’s when things stop working for you.
Because soon enough, you’re swaying to the side, nearly falling; as his protective instincts kick in, immediately holding you, his cock jumps out. And he shakes his head, pecking your temple once, and then deducts, “Okay. This won’t do.”
“Hmmm,” you hum in agreement, weak on your legs, “bad idea for sure.”
“Hold up.”
He’s quick to turn you around, thoroughly in charge of your body tonight — you’re fully under his mercy. Ready to kneel and bend for him. And Jungkook, understanding your boundaries, gives you all you need — knows what to do, knows when to stop.
And you keep handing over control; more so when he pushes you over the sink, stating, “Okay. Looks easier.” A pause. “Looks so much fucking better, too.”
Wish you could see. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re tense.
He leans down to kiss your back. His dick pokes between your ass cheeks again, slipping down and further down until it makes itself home between your nether lips again.
It falls into it in one fell swoop, swiftly, as if it’s no effort at all — guess it never is.
And god, does the position feel heavenly.
Balls deep inside; the first angle that allows full unhinged, animalistic mode.
But he still starts out slow; with long strokes and a hand in your hair. You tumble backwards a little, urging him to move too, lifting your ass higher and pushing your legs together for maximal effect.
Allowing more tightness for him; more friction for you.
“I… missed fucking you so much,” he says between thrusts. “You feel unreal.”
You guess you do. He does, too. Maybe the two of you need a reminder that this is all too real; perhaps a tantalising equivalent to a wake-up-pinch.
So you suggest, “Fuck me harder, Kook.”
“Hmm… want that?”
“Been waiting so fucking long.”
And while a lover of patience and anticipation — who is he to reject your wishes after the entire ordeal occurring in this room? The two of you have dragged out this moment plenty.
So he listens fast; soon using your neck as leverage as his inked fingers wrap it smoothly. Agreeing, “It’d be my literal pleasure, babe.”
God, he’s a dumbass — but you can’t physically react. Too caught up in something else; storing the laughter and jokes for later.
Because he picks up on pace, not too much right away; but enough for his hips to slap against your ass. Enough for you to be catapulted forwards with a whine, cheek pressing to the glass.
You lift your hand, accidentally wiping again, but only manage a trail, hand sliding down. From behind, you hear a hoarse praise, “Looks so fucking hot,” he draws a sharp breath, nearly hissing, “I promise I’ll be careful, just…”
He pulls at your hair. Shoves his cock inside rougher, face closer to you, lips to your cheek. Swallows hard enough for you to hear, and then, “Tell me if it’s too much. Am careful until I can’t be, baby.”
Until he loses control. He says it right before he drops all inhibitions and — goes feral.
You squint your eyes shut, calling out his name; the word echoes in the small room, and for just a second, you worry the neighbours might hear. And then right away, you stop caring again.
Because you want this man. Now and later and forever; want him like this, want him in any way. This isn’t just sex to you — if that’s what you wanted, you’d download an app like your freshman self used to.
No.
No matter how obscene, there’s meaning in every one of your touches; in every stroke, in every word, in every single time you lose yourself in him.
Your stomach twists as he jackhammers into you; you’re craving proximity, craving all his attention. Want all of his emotions and touches raw and merciless. Want to see him.
Although, when your shut eyes open, you only see blurry forms in the mirror moving, him behind you. He squeezes your neck; you see that much before he slides it down your body, straight to your clit, no detours.
He pushes his knee up for a second, touching the edge of the sink and balancing on one leg, but drops it again soon. The white painted, stainless steel of the sink, previously cold on your tummy, burns against your skin now. A chafing feeling.
Jungkook draws more forms against your clit, but then retracts his hand; instead, squishing your tits, indecisive where to touch. But it’s the last move he makes before he straightens his body, palms on your ass until he spanks just once and…
Pulls out again.
What?
“Look at me, sweetheart,” you register.
You pant, fingers clutching the sink and gulping down the tiredness before you manage a turn. Your eyes land on his dick first; it’s fully drenched in your arousal, so unbreakably stiff.
He whispers again, “Look at me,” but the moment you do, he doesn’t withhold your stare for too long. Instead, his hands are back on your cheeks, drawing you close, seeking your lips. His never-satisfied thirst matches yours; you want to remain here and freeze time.
With your arms around his neck, he guides you towards the washing machine, pushing the clothes further aside. He helps you get on it, but you argue immediately, “This could be dangerous, right? Shouldn’t sit here, I think… might break…”
“It’ll be okay,” he says, making himself comfortable between your legs, pushing them apart with his thighs. Two fingers hold your chin, lips ghosting over yours. “Is a cheap ass thing… want a new one anyway.”
You wonder if he’ll say that about all the furniture he’ll fuck you on. Because observing his eyes, you know that he will — will soil every inch of his apartment within, what you anticipate, a short period of time.
But unfortunately for the washing machine, you’re too weak to reject the offer.
So you hold him tight, jostling him closer to you as you ask, “Yeah?”
“Mhmmmm.” The word drowns in your moan when his cock glides back in; when will you ever get used to this? “Don’t worry… won’t break as badly as we will.”
Well, fuck.
The ridges of his cock drag just right along your walls, the angle making your mouth water. Your cunt is burning; and he still dares to ask, “Okay like that?”
“More than okay, Kook… more than—”
He always screws you numb; barely ever lets you finish your sentences. Your moans have become a constant interruption, along with the goddamn things he says, “Your pussy is so good. So, so good.”
And then he’s back making out with you, sweatier than before. His body is enticingly warm, muscles working on you. Both his and your hair sticks to the nape of the neck or your back, and you hold onto him, keening against his lips.
Then, you lean back for a second, keyed up as fuck, propping up your body with your arms. Your palms press against the back of the machine, and he inches close to explore the bare skin of your torso. His chain skims your nipples, as if on purpose; and he kisses you here, there, everywhere.
Neck, clavicles, tits, jaw.
Perspiring without an end, all of this could be gross. But instead, you feel hyped up, sexy as never before. Dizzy at the sight of his golden skin, the small beads of sweat spreading on it.
It takes one or two more minutes of this insanity until things come to an eventual end. A glorious end, that is — filled with deep moans, squealed calls of names, unrhythmic thrusts that fasten for the finale.
“I’ll come,” Jungkook states, and you shoot back up to him, holding his head against the mounds of your tits. He kisses between them, breathing irregular, words muffled, “Gonna come so hard, what the f—”
And when he does, you lose all coherent thoughts immediately. Not that you could think before — but his uncontrolled exclaims already make you wish for a whole new round. Nevermind that your pussy is wrecked and beaten.
Vocal as ever, he finishes with deep shoves, slowing down with each second. His lips remain open between your collarbones, and you feel his eyebrows draw together. Thick strings of hot cum filling you up, your cunt tightens.
And somehow, after all this, he still finds the energy to sneak his hand between your bodies, blindly seeking your clit until he finds it. Familiar circles render you breathless, even though they’re lazy — but picking up on intensity when he leans back, still breathing hard.
He looks absolutely done — still fucking the rest of him into you. But you’re moaning and groaning, and he’s far from giving up as he says, “Come with me, baby.”
Honestly, he doesn’t need to tell you. You’re already calling and blurting out random words, already limp. Wrapping your legs around his torso with the tiny remaining energy you have left, absolutely insane.
Jungkook kisses you one last time. And you let the build up in your lower tummy and pussy proceed; up and up and up to the peak — until he delivers one last stroke, cock already softening, finger on your nub diligent and…
You milk his dick in its entirety. Your pussy clenches and unclenches. Random figures swim in your vision, flashy behind your eyelids. Limbs trembling, body a mess and fingers hooking into his chain, you only notice now that you’re repeatedly whispering his name.
Winding and crying. Trying not to tug too hard, to break the jewellery, but still urging him closer, closer.
You’re shivering, surviving the vertigo, breathing stagnant. Trying to control it. Quivering like fucking crazy, not feeling your legs.
Also hating how his cum is dripping onto the damn washing machine. In your hazy mood, you laugh a little.
It takes a bit of time for the two of you to calm down, to dim the adrenaline in your nerves. Your chests rise and fall in unison, still clutching to the embrace. His skin is flushed, yours hot, skin tingling with the lingering heat of the passed passion.
And when he finally moves back, looking at you, you see half a dozen things in there. Satisfaction and vulnerability among them. Maybe even a hint of mischievousness, proud of whatever just happened; happy with the emotions it conjured.
Stars in his eyes. Contentment, composure and affection at last.
A pleasant stillness follows, the world outside the bathroom nonexistent. The aftermath of the steamy encounter lingers until you break the silence after all.
“When the hell,” you start, throat dry, “did you get so broad?”
“…What?”
“You just. You looked endless in the mirror. You’re so—”
Amused, he displays a grin as sly as you adore. He tsks and then mocks, “Stop drooling.”
“You first.”
His chuckle is throaty; a result of the constant exclaims and the absolute dehydration. You give the two of you a moment to collect saliva on your tongue, to swallow and wet your cords.
Your fingers paint an invisible, light pattern on his skin; tracing his tattoos is one of your favourite things to do. You jest, “That’s a good way to destress.”
He arches an eyebrow, then rolls his eyes — but the devotion towards you behind the gesture is irrefutable. It carries into his words, no matter how playfully mocking his tone or his sighs, “Everything for the princess.”
“So,” you pause, lips curling into a soft smile. “Is this what I’m gonna be getting for the rest of my life?”
You see it immediately. The explosion in his eyes; the burst of stars in the depths of his pupils. Clear as the night sky, fond and sweet and magical. Guess you spoke big words for sure.
“…The rest of your life, huh?” he asks.
“No?”
“Is that what you want?”
Ever-the-boomerang, you gauge his reaction, closing the distance between you. Lips barely apart, you throw back again, “Don’t you?”
You don’t need to glance through his ribs, lungs, blood and skin; you see the swelling around his heart. Emotions swimming in it in abundance. You see all of it right in his eyes.
And his voice proves it; delicate and quiet, “Baby… you make my heart drop to my stomach all the time. Do I not look at you like I want a rest of my life with you?”
Gosh. You’re too weak for this.
“Look at me like that more often,” you answer, breathing against him, eyes dancing with delight, “maybe I’ll believe you then.”
“Huh,” he makes, letting out an entertained huff, “brat. Maybe later. Let’s get you cleaned up and dressed for now, alright?”
Right. You forgot you’re still here. Snapping back into reality is always a task.
Of course it is.
Because your world is a cocoon; you don’t want to leave it just yet. And maybe, somewhere in the near future — you won’t have to anyway.
Jungkook and you don’t waste minutes doing formalities tonight. No flickering candle flames; no organised set up of your table. You dim the lights, snatching a lamp from his bedroom and rely on it along with the TV’s brightness.
You filled your plates and stomachs with a dish he’s wanted to show you for a while. It’s some special Jeon recipe — limited to him specifically, not his family. The brief cut in your relationship kept you from the meal, but watching him fiddle with the pots and cutlery was worth the wait after all.
He’s still proud of it; you’re filled to the brim, sick to the core, but the noodle-Buldak-mayo-perilla-oil-combination introduced the night just perfectly.
Your body is limp against his after dinner, bloated. A mutual agreement concluded that watching a movie might be the easiest activity you could indulge in to further destress. So you cuddle up, eyes droopy as you wait for the Netflix logo and thump to subside.
You let the username float by, though unable to suppress your giggle. Your back shakes against him, his hand halting mid-air, remote control in it, and you comment, “Letjungcook7. You’re such a dork.”
“Why?” You look back, met with raised eyebrows and round eyes. “Do you not like it?”
“I love it. Don’t you ever dare change it.”
He tuts, trademark smirk tilted; responds, “And don’t you ever change your Sunny Baudelaire icon.”
“God, she’s an iconic baby,” you groan, enthusiastic; your hands gesture to the TV, Baudelaires nowhere in sight, “I will never shut up about this show.”
“That’s why you’re not allowed to change it. Kinda cute how much you love it.”
“Jungkook,” you tug at his unoccupied arm, placing his wrist and palm over your belly button, “would you ever rewatch it with me?”
His hand rubs gently over your shirt, and then drops until his fingers are toying with your — his — jogger’s strings. “I’m a pro at rewatching. I’m down.”
You whisper a dragged celebratory word, eyes back to the screen. He’s scrolling through the genres fast, barely inhaling the titles and summaries. And when he skips three more of the stuff you’d usually settle on, you say, “Don’t think you’ll find anything on there.”
Ironically enough, he answers, “We’ve barely looked. Look. Knives Out’s second part is on there.”
“I just watched it recently. Hmm, what about that Poe movie with Christian Bale?”
On cue, he passes it three seconds later, only stopping on it for a moment before he voices, “Hmm…”
You wait. Drag out another second. Then conclude, “Okay, you’re not feeling it. Got it. Something else?”
“What about Disney?”
“What about scrolling until we fall asleep?”
The hand still busy with the strings moves up to your sides, pinching you lightly. You flinch, hard enough to nearly break his nose, overdramatic by nature. Amidst your commotion, you hear him say, “Don’t mock me. I’ll kick you from the couch.”
“I’ll just stay on the floor then.”
“Angel, I swear.”
“Okay, okay. Sorry.”
But you’re not.
Because the bicker continues for another ten minutes, remote control snatched every now and then, ideas suggested and immediately rejected.
Jungkook admits his guilty pleasures merely a couple minutes later, and you conjure all your patience and discourse abilities to explain why you can’t watch The Notebook or Titanic anymore.
But once Dion’s soprano voice builds a nest in a lobe of your brain, you give in, half laughing, half agitated as you tackle the 90s classic — only for Jungkook to click out again.
“It’s no fun when we’re not both ready to watch it.”
“Dude…”
More scrolling, you guess.
Five more minutes pass — and eventually, Titanic deserted, you sing the songs of Coco instead. You expect Jungkook’s attention and lips to shift halfway through the movie, tracing down your neck or along your sides – a standard for a weekday movie night.
But to your surprise, he powers through it with minimal dialogue and wide, focused eyes. Palm above your ribs, moveless under your shirt and his cheek pressed against your heartbeat, you assume he’s fallen asleep by the time the credits roll.
Until – you feel warm liquid wetting your shirt, a sniffle combining with his shaky breath before you ask with your own damp eyes, “Babe— are you crying?”
His answer is delightfully unashamed and immediate, “I’ve never watched Coco without crying.”
The soft strains of the movie’s soundtrack won’t let your eyes dry either; but Jungkook seems far more into it than you. Adoration burns hot in your veins.
“You never told me that!” you exclaim.
“Because it’s not worth telling. Should be a given — these movies are made to cry to!”
You giggle through your tears. Jungkook’s mind works in miraculous ways — non-judgemental, yet probably flashing a side-eye to those who do not partake in a sob fest during Coco or Encanto.
“I honestly love how you’re not a toxic male at all, you know?” you point out; you feel a huff against your chest.
At least he’s smiling through the brief sadness, too.
You crane your neck, not quite turning around just yet, and watch him rub his cheek clean off the tears. Not that his eyes have stopped welling up, though.
For a moment, you observe, staring at the swollen, pouty lower lip. His pupils glimmer in the TV’s light, long locks brushed back; half of them tied in a tiny ponytail.
You could overthink every detail of his face. Tell him all about his everlasting elegance. Instead, you only lower your voice, soft as you say, “You look pretty even when you cry.”
“Thank you,” he returns, though fingertips still work at the liquid, and you can’t help but laugh.
You can barely believe that’s the same confident beast who was pressing you against cool tiles just an hour ago. The stark contrast baffles you.
You’re amused when you question, “It really affects you so much?”
“Everything about it!” he immediately argues. You expand your eyes. “The way Coco looks at Miguel at the end. And that freaking moment when she meets her parents at the end. Does it not affect you?”
“Oh, of course it does,” you defend, “I’m a story girl. I’ll cry reading and watching these things, for sure.”
“And then the lyrics,” he continues, in his element a hundred percent, “the thought of remembering someone even after they’re gone and far away…”
The further his sentence progresses, the more the words blur. His voice is feeble, hoarse when he gets to the final syllables. When he pauses between his rambling to draw a breath, you hear a heartbreaking shake in his inhale.
And the exhale sounds like a quiet sob.
You turn back immediately, pressing onto the pause button, remote control still in his hand. The credits darken the room as opposed to the movie’s colours before. You see a damp trail along his cheek, eyelashes wet.
Your smile vanishes as you stare a little longer. The blanket falls from your chest into your lap when you lift your arm from under it, hastily drying his tears with your thumbs. Just slightly, he leans into the touch, but his face soon falls, an attempt to hide.
You ask, “What’s wrong?”
Jungkook isn’t embarrassed of tears — you figured this out without him admitting it to you. But he’s embarrassed of the guilt he feels; acknowledging it when he speaks.
“It’d just be nice,” hands holding his face drop; you touch his chest, “to make up with the family like this. They made it look easy.”
You keep looking. Bewildered, unable to answer for seconds too long. You blink until the words sink in properly, incapable of more than, “I’m sorry, baby.”
“No, no,” he argues, shaking his head, “I mean. Who am I to tell you something like this?”
“It’s okay. Your worries are legit worries, too. Look at me,” you reassure, prompting him to meet your gaze. “You’re not a bad person. Okay? It’s… so terrible that you think you are.”
“I fucked up.”
It dawns on you once more that he firmly believes that; causes a searing sting. The process is neither a smooth nor a quick one — you know it’ll take a while for him to convince him otherwise. To drop his current beliefs about himself.
“You didn’t,” you refute, firm certainty and conviction in your voice. “That’s not how a fuck-up is defined, I promise you. And those who are actually wrong probably know, too.”
“It’d just be nice,” he starts again; the shrug of his one shoulder doesn’t distract you from the misery and self-loathing in his eyes, “if he called at least.”
“I know. I don’t know, I… do you think you could call instead?”
Jungkook’s lashes brush his skin, the apples of his cheeks not as round and squishy as usual. Yet, the sadness makes him look younger, softer.
You sigh; a warm blanket isn’t enough anymore. You need to wrap him in the comfort of the world — ideally, in his father’s care.
Jungkook opens his mouth for another argument, but then holds it in, says after another moment of contemplation, “Actually… There’s a gathering coming up. I’ll see my people there, so… I don’t know. Trying won’t hurt, right?”
“It never does.”
His eyes start unfocusing. You recognise it in the way he glues his gaze to a point on the glass table, unblinking, staring nowhere in truth. You keep your attention on him for another second, hoping he’ll look at you, even if forlorn.
But when he doesn’t, you wrap your arms around him instead. His chest is calmer against your head now, breathing as soft as the palms that find your back. He presses you into his body by mere inches; you barely notice.
Your fingers draw shapes on his arm, a subtle consoling gesture. In the background, you hear the song fade, volume lower now. The movie soon transitions to something else; you don’t pay any mind to it, drowsy and distracted in his embrace.
But then your mind wanders; to the man keeping Jungkook’s thoughts hostage. You remember the conversation the two of you had last Sunday. You recall the way your hand held his broken heart together.
You wish it was as easy as a small scar — an echo of whatever once transpired, but also a reminder that it healed.
Then, for a second, you think of your own wounds. How they still need to be cured, too. How years and time alone won’t fix issues; you need to tackle them actively — maybe at some point, the two of you can.
You laugh softly against his shirt, burying between his pecs; joking, “We’re perfect for each other. Dysfunctional families and whatnot.”
His chuckle is still a light tremble, but genuine enough for you to celebrate. His hands push a little harder into your back; your body shifts up his lap, butt half on his thigh. Eyes shut, still sniffling.
Jungkook wraps around you like a soothing force, an invisible bubble. A bandage despite carrying all bruises. You sigh in contentment, head dizzy from exhaustion; waking up just when he blurts a question again.
“You really think that, right? That I’m not a bad person.”
You crack your eyes open a slit.
You understand. Someone who overthinks needs multiple repeated reassurances — you’re the same.
So you nod against him, guaranteeing, “You’re… kind of ridiculously amazing. You’re someone who gives all those people hope who don’t believe in humanity anymore.” Pause. “And I admire you in every way. So much.”
He doesn’t respond. You wait. Further dead silence, interrupted by the soft sounds of the TV. You lick your lower lip, dropping your gaze to where your thumb rubs his wrist. Tracing a vein.
His mellow voice reverberates, a melody to your eardrums when he whispers, “We’d do this so much if you were here all the time.”
“Crying in each other’s arms, huh?”
He clicks his tongue, accompanied by the grin you’re certain graces his face, even if you can’t see. You hear it in his voice all the more, “Sure. Also, have dinner together. Shower and watch movies together. Laugh and cry.”
You smile. “I still can’t believe it, you know? That you want this… and me at all.”
“You feel that, too, yeah?” Fingertips move up your spine, between your shoulder blades and then to the nape of your neck. Tickling, grazing gently. “I promise I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t truly feel all that, though.”
“What’s all that?”
“Just.” His chest rises. Then falls. “Everything.”
One of your heartbeats freezes, you’re sure. And when it comes back alive, you think — maybe he doesn’t need the world’s comfort after all. Or his father’s care. Maybe yours is enough right now.
But then again.
You’d be damned if you kept your traumas intact. Or his. You took each other as you came long ago — as vulnerable human beings, with a whole lot of baggage. With all the injuries on your heart.
Yet, this isn’t a state you want to accept. For neither of you.
Your unwavering belief remains steadfast — that one day, things need to become… okay.
So you gulp down all the pain, lighting a candle in your chest, and say,
“It’s not over yet, baby.”
Zara keeps yelling orders around. Her voice, usually collected and tender, is agitated today. You can barely imagine how many little tasks, how many stressed phone calls must be overrunning her.
You establish a distance between your device and your ear, protecting your hearing with one eye squinting shut. And when she returns to the conversation, you exhale through the nose.
“Sorry. You were asking—”
“How’s it look?” you repeat.
“I mean, everyone’s stressed,” she responds, clearly frustrated; as if it should be obvious to you. And it is; but you’ll spiral, too, if you don’t keep your calm, at least. “A lot to do.”
“You’re sure you don’t need me to come earlier?”
“All good, love. You’re not a manager yet,” she stops her speech to mumble something to another co-worker, imaginary hands jam packed with preparations for the press conference. “But when you are, you won’t know what to do with all the stress.”
“Great outlook into a potential future.”
“I just mean you should enjoy things while they last.”
Zara isn’t the only one wandering up and down the building to assure perfection. She’s only one of the big mentors, managers to handle everything; responsible for the catering and content to be presented at the conference.
Her team stands firmly behind her, but you don’t blame her for still allowing her head to steam. Of all busy people in their blazers and slacks, however, she’s been the only one to spare some time for you.
You’re grateful for her enthusiasm and support. You smile as you ask, “Do you think I can answer everything the way I intend to?”
“I think so.”
“It’s so new to me.”
“Yeah, but you’re a natural at this stuff. And also,” she speaks slower now. The chaos behind her has calmed a little; her voice echoes off somewhere. Perhaps a restroom. “Things are looking good.”
You stop sauntering through the room, pausing in front of the bed’s corner before dropping onto it. Dragging your tongue over your lower lip, you blink, and then ask, “You’re sure?”
“We had a couple conversations over here. Made a few more phone calls, and I think you don’t need to worry about a thing. We’ll come up with something if things derail, though, okay?”
You’re uncertain, still anxious. Should this afternoon flop, you’ll be screwed.
You need it to succeed. You can’t afford misfires. Ugh.
Restless, your foot taps against the floor. You try not to think of things going astray; try to think of a smooth progress, not precarious in any way.
Yet, you ask doubtfully, “Can we do that?”
“We always can. That’s business.”
Guess she’s right. Your mother has saved you one too many times — from stupid things you did as well as from things you never needed saving from.
A rich human being’s power over the media — and frankly, the world — is unbeatable. Barely to be underestimated.
“Okay,” you mutter, “thank you.”
Despite only hearing her voice, you imagine her nod, the way she often does. You miss the warm, promising palm on your shoulder. Appreciate that she’s still here instead of dropping you to the side; leaving the call to handle more relevant issues.
No, she lingers there; you hear her breathe until she asks, “Are you bringing your man, too, by the way?”
Your man.
You straighten your back in pride, bright smile back, “Yeah! He said he’d come and support me. But he’s not home yet.”
“Oh? Well, you gotta be here in three hours. Where’d he go?”
“God knows. But don’t worry about punctuality.” You hear a hum, glancing up at the clock. Past noon. “Hey, also. My parents are definitely gonna come, right?”
“Babe,” she drags the word a little, and you can almost see her side-eyeing you, “journalists will be present. Cameras everywhere. At least your mother would never miss such a thing.”
Right. Cares about that company too much.
You remember the times she proved it to you. When you’d come home from middle school, eating some extravagant lunch while watching her talk on TV. Conversing with your staff.
“Okay. Good,” you say, happy about that very answer for once.
Outside, a door creaks. Steps echo through the hallway, a soft call of your name following as you hear the jingling of keys stop.
He sounds joyful.
You get up, phone halfway off your ear as you say, “Hey, I should go. I think that he—”
And the moment you look at the open door of the bedroom, your heart stops. For a second, you fear an intruder at his apartment, but the longer you look, the more your brain gives out.
The black-white-red jacket hugs his broad shoulders comfortably, the thin white sweater underneath it nearly transparent enough to reveal his tiny nipples. But despite his stature, it’s not his body that kills the power in your head.
It’s the—
You murmur last words into the phone, making out a goodbye that doesn’t reverberate as much anymore. She’s probably out of the restroom again; too distracted to give your mumble any attention anyway.
You place your phone where you previously sat and inhale his appearance carefully.
First off — you can see his ears. Can see most of his eyes. His forehead.
His hair is still dark, but it’s tamed. The wild locks, usually a feature you’ve gotten used to over the span of that one year, lay comfortably on his head. In fact, most of them are gone.
You feel a needle in your chest, but one of the surprising sort. Not painful at all.
“Wow,” you only say.
He reaches to the nape of his neck, fingertips brushing the hair there. “Yeah?”
You move towards his body, eyes fixated on every hair strand. Then, close enough, you state the obvious, “You cut your hair.”
“I… yeah. Is it terrible?” he asks, round eyes meeting yours. He raises his hand again, to his ear this time, scratching behind it for a second. “Not used to it at all. But I figured I’d look a little more serious as an artist like this.”
Really? Most artists you knew cared the least about a fancy appearance.
Then again, Jungkook doesn’t look fancy. He just looks different. Breathtaking, more mature, older.
His cheekbones look more chiselled now, his eyes wider. You could pass out right here, right now, and he still wouldn’t know how relentlessly he affects you.
“More serious?” you ask, less because you need an explanation. More because your mind keeps wandering, and you can’t fathom a word he’s saying.
“Just. Needed a change, I think,” he admits, “and wanted to adjust to a press conference’s typical look, too.”
“You did this for the press conference?”
“I wanted to look put together.”
Your heart dissolves and dissipates. His voice is soft as a petal, tender like the colours on his arm. The expression he sports is unsure, like he wants to hide — waiting for your opinion.
He really put thought into this. Woke up this morning and set a goal with purpose, not uttering a word to you to surprise you a couple hours later.
You don’t know what to say. You barely know what to feel, except this unbearable urge to ramble down every piece of tiny emotion he’s ever made you feel.
You want his body wrapped around you, engulfed in a blanket, head on his chest and slumbering for the rest of your life. Want to mumble little confessions, shiver when his lips touch your scalp.
Overwhelmed — that’s what you are.
“I loved the long hair,” you finally admit, “I guess I got too used to it, so I need to adjust, but. But… this is so… It… it suits you.”
You’re stumbling over your words, suggesting doubt. Not the way to go. Perhaps they shouldn’t have chosen you as one of the press conference speakers after all.
Jungkook’s concern grows visible in his big, round pupils; expressive, a true glimpse into his heart. You feel bad because you’re not as good with words as he is, and because he seemed so happy about his choice.
You just can’t fucking express yourself — even though you’re melting inside, falling harder. And maybe he notices your awkwardness, because he tries again.
“You’re uh— sure you don’t hate it?”
“No! God, no. It’s different. You look amazing, Kook. You look like…”
He swallows. “Like what?”
“You’re so pretty, Jeon Jungkook.” You say it with genuinity this time. He closes his lips, blinking, and while he attempts to veil his relief, you still see the high rise of his chest. “You look fucking gorgeous, no matter what you do. I… I mean it.”
The answer satisfies him. His risen shoulders drop a little, tension falling off, and he fixes the already perfectly sitting collar of his jacket before he smiles. Just a little, a subtle twitch of the corners of his lips.
As soft as his response, “I always aim to reach your level, you know?”
You roll your eyes. Partly to keep them from watering because your heart is bursting. Splintering like every morning and every night; you wonder if you’ll ever get used to it.
A couple gentle words lie heavy on your tongue, pressing against the muscle to let them out; but at the prospect of actually uttering them, your guts twist. You don’t want to throw up before the meeting.
So you remove the tightness from your chest with a deep exhale, nearly until your lungs are dry, and say, “Shut up.”
Playfully, you deliver a soft push against his chest, laughing when his dramatic ass stumbles backwards. Submerged in those goddamn dimples, you immediately grab the hem of his jacket and before you know it, you’ve taken a step forward and landed in his arms.
You sneak your arms underneath the leather-ish material, not hesitating for a second before you’re squeezing his torso. He lets out a choked sound, groaning, but reacts similarly fast as you.
His heartbeat accelerates for a moment, right against your ear as you make yourself small. The sweater smells like his favourite detergent and him; musky, fresh. Your palms, flat against his back, crave deeper touch.
Nothing crude; just an afternoon on the bed behind you, limbs entwined, laughing about things that probably aren’t that funny anyway.
For a moment, the silence transcends words. You inject the blend of gratitude and affection through your touch, ensuring he understands.
But when it’s not a testament to your emotions enough, you speak against his chest, voice very likely muffled, “You didn’t have to do this for me… you just. You never have to do anything for me, but you still do.”
“I’ll do anything for you.”
Immediate and sincere. Voice unwavering.
God, you’re not his strongest soldier.
A smile tugs at your lips, and you chide, "Stop that."
"What?"
"If you keep saying these things," you continue, a frisky lilt in your voice, "I'll die. Do you want me to die?"
Jungkook chuckles. Always a soothing melody in a hushed room. He remarks, grip still wrapped around you securely, "Acting all innocent now."
You don’t understand right away what he means — but then you hear his heartbeat, picking up on pace again.
Makes you want to squash him harder. Melt into him further.
“Shut up, Jeon,” you respond with a nudge, cheek pressed against his shirt. Just a moment longer — just a couple more seconds to inhale the solacing scent.
Your heart is unguarded; he could sever it if he wanted to. He’s proven that he has the power to. Yet, you keep fuelling it, vulnerable in his warmth as you say, “You’ve no clue what you mean to me, Kookie.”
Your vivid imagination might be forcing things upon your mind that aren’t actually there, but you do think you perceive the way his entire body melts. Nearly limp, in a state so relaxed and peaceful that you have only experienced in the mornings before.
Waking him up for work, feeling weightless limbs wrapped around you, passed out.
His fingers trace patterns on your back lightly, stirring from bottom to top and back. They first stop at the small of your back, then lift off your body, hands suddenly on your shoulders.
He pushes you off him, your movements reluctant, and looks at you with profound sincerity. His voice matches his expression, gentle and adoring, “Will you tell me how much I mean to you?”
Amidst the delicate minutes you spend standing between the bedroom and the living room, you almost forget that there’s a world outside. It’s a little more grey than before, similar to the suit you’ll be wearing in a couple hours.
You remember the prospect of an audience, the answers you’ve prepared, to questions they probably will ask. Zara told you they wouldn’t hold back — they’d phrase their inquiries friendly, but still keep the intentions devilish.
Right.
The world is still turning out there. You want it to stop for the two of you — frozen moments. But it can’t, at least not yet. Right now it’s too real; and you guess that the worst part is that in your line of business, it will keep revolving around people like you.
Whether you want it or not.
So maybe, if it truly needs to keep spinning and can’t halt for you, keeping you in the centre, you should give it something to talk about, too.
Something crisp, something new. Without a care for it, but all the care for you and the man in front of you.
Which is why you spare him another fond smile, forehead calm and your demeanour confident — and tell him, “I’ll do my best to let you know."
The audience stretches to the far back. All the rows are filled to the brim with reporters or guests. The shutter of the cameras and the flashing lights are agitating.
You look down.
Nervously tapping your feet on the stage, you shrink into yourself inch by inch. Your seat is uncomfortable, though padded, a little too warm against your ass right now. Zara notices your tick and puts a steady hand to your knee, repeating for the millionth time today, “Stop. It’ll be okay.”
“It’s just dawning on me though, Zara.”
“What is?”
You nod faintly towards the mic and the attendees, tell her, “That I was actually chosen to speak. They shouldn’t have chosen me.”
“You asked for it.”
“Yeah, but there are more important things to discuss.”
Zara’s lips form a circle; she shakes and lowers her head, sending out a beam of air that you feel on your wrist, blazer sleeves rolled up. You’ve been like that all evening.
“You can do it,” she repeats patiently, “you’re the boss’ daughter and they want your opinion. You’ll hit them hard with yours.”
You suck in a breath, leave the air in your cheeks, and then puff it out again. “I want to. I hope to, I just— never thought it’d be this nerve-wracking. Don’t wanna say anything wrong.”
The subtle shake of her head continues — or reemerges —, lips in a thin line, eyes slowly blinking, “Mh-mh. We talked about it, okay? Practised all the questions they could ask. You’ll be good.”
“You gotta promise.”
“As much as I can, babe, it’s up to y—” She takes in your falling face, holding back with a sigh when she sees the dread in your pupils. “I promise. Of course.”
She taps your knee, softly and lightly, and then says, “I’m so curious about everyone’s reactions. Like. Gosh, just look at those people.”
You understand what she means. “I know.”
Zara places a manicured thumb on her matte red lips, mumbling, “Here for entertainment. At least a third of them will add their own fantasies to the articles they’ll write. Hypotheses and manipulative, neutrally phrased thoughts. Cockroaches.”
Funny. That’s what you call them, too. A collective understanding, you see.
But.
“Shhh,” you voice, “they—”
“It’s fine. They know it, too. Like lawyers do.”
Can’t refute. Eun told you one too many times how unfair the law business usually is, and how she’ll strive to not have anyone ever manipulate her. To remain genuine.
“Yeah, but,” you still argue, “I imagined they’d be listening in all the time. Don’t they do lip reading and stuff?”
She nods, a finger still on her mouth, smiling, “Mhm. I also feel like I could say whatever, but it’ll be you they’ll focus on today.”
Your heart drops, an uncomfortable twist in your guts adding to the stress. Might have to dash to the bathroom at the very last minute. You curse, “Shit, Zara… I should fucking ru—”
“Stay. You can do this. I promise.”
“Okay,” you take another deep breath, helping your oxygen-lacking, spinning head, “okay.”
You look back to the media present, ready to survive questions; prepared to provide answers. The moderator is talking to your mother at the front, covering the mic with a hand.
They gave you around five minutes to speak, and in that time, you need to answer everything. How you do it is up to you, but the pressure to perform in a certain way, accordingly, weighs heavily on you.
But it’s alright.
You’ll just need to stay confident. Stick to your message. They’ll have things to say anyway — and you’ll make the best of them.
You stare past the lights, squinting to find him, raking your neck. His figure towers in the back, easy to detect, and once he meets your eyes — or perhaps never having averted his from you — he lifts a hand to wave in tiny motions.
Then, he drops his fingers again, entwining them in front of his body. He isn’t necessarily allowed here, but you were able to sneak him through in advance. So now he’s a couple feet from the wall, choosing to stand rather than sit, so you find him easily.
So you seek his eyes for comfort if need be.
Before you parted near the entrance, he said, “I’ll be offering a dozen thumbs up like a fool if you need me to.”
You chuckled — but maybe he meant it. Because his smile and nod undoubtedly dispel your fears; as if he can see you struggling.
The seconds drag on, and the conference begins seven minutes later. Your mother is the first to talk, outlining a general overview of what’s to come. Of Charmante’s philosophies, of its success, praising the team.
Then, she forwards to important employees like Zara, letting them ramble about launches or ideas in depth. Business strategies, partnerships, bringing across points that you usually don’t get the chance to share.
This is legit press; even though out for a loophole, they won’t follow you around or hide in the shadows. Incessant and vexing, but at least they’re allowed here.
Conversations about new collections, store openings as well as expansions and customer engagement pass in a trice, and at some point, another coworker is uttering last words to a last question.
And you realise — that you’re next.
The moderator introduces you with pride; everyone applauds, smiling at you fondly despite all the controversies. ”Controversies.” Under quote marks, as Zara pointed out, because you never committed an offence.
You stand on weak knees. Trembling when you grip the podium. It’s like the sound in the room fades, a single peeping tone overshadowing all noise. You barely blink anymore; not even the flashy white can shut your eyes.
And god, you can hear your breathing. Your damn heart. Your nose sucks in all the air available in the room, or at least in the building, and then you open your mouth to speak.
a/n: this is not a cliffhanger!! tumblr just doesn't allow to drop looong posts anymore, so here's the rest of the chapter lol, keep reading and enjoying, i love you and will see you on the other side!! and don't forget to support this chapter, folks 🥺 <3
#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#bts smut#bts fluff#jeongguk smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#bts x reader#bts x you#bts imagines#bts fics#jungkook scenario#jeon jungkook smut#thebtswritersclub#jungkook fic#jungkook imagines#bts angst#jungkook angst#jungkook
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Yoongi fic recs 2024 🥳
In honor of Yoongi’s birthday, I want to share my ultimate favorite Yoongi stories, that I’ve read this past year (2023-2024) 💜 I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹 🥳
❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell or contains dark themes, so minors dni.❗
If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the fic, it might seem like a tiny gesture, but it really means a lot for writers and I can guarantee it will put a smile on their faces💜 Let’s share and give lots of love!
Looking for more to read? Check ‘The Library’ or last years recs 🙂
[index] → jan | feb (jhs) | mar (💜) | apr | may | jun | jul | aug | sep (jjk)(knj) | oct (pjm) | nov | dec (kth)(ksj) |
Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, fantasy = 🪄.
⭐Illicit Favors @yoongiofmine
// myg x f.reader // producer!yoongi, virgin!reader, f2l // 🥰🥵🌩️
📝 When your editor tells you to re-write the chapters of your book because the sex scenes are weak, suggesting you write them from experience, what do you do when you lack any kind of sexual experiences in general? You go to your friend and ask him for help with it.
🗨️ Matchmaker Namjoon!! The premise is funny and leads to slight awkwardness, but it’s so good. I love the reader and Yoongi’s friendship in this. I was left speechless after reading it, I can’t recommend this enough 🙂
⭐Tricks of the Trade @stutterfly
// myg x f.reader // body swap!au, soulmates!au, idiots to lovers, frenemies to lovers // 🥰😂🥵
📝 The convenience store across the street from your apartment carries your favorite energy drink. That’s why you frequent it. It’s definitely not because you have a big fat crush on the owner you’ve been flirting with for the better part of a year. Of course your brand of flirting can also be misconstrued as bickering. When a strange man wanders into the store, he thinks you need a little nudge to embrace the strings connecting you. Next thing you know you’re waking up in a body that definitely doesn’t belong to you. You can’t decide if it’s the best or worst thing that’s ever happened to you.
🗨️ This is utterly perfection! It is so funny and hilarious - but it is also insanely smutty! It’s really interesting with body swapping, what they learn about each other, lol. I read this on a day where I was feeling down, and it honestly made my day! 💜Also, now I kinda wanna watch ‘She’s the Man’ 😂
⭐Backtrack @mapofthesea
// myg x pjm x reader // producers!yoonmin, assistant!reader, bi!yoongi // 🥵🥰
📝 There’s no telling just how long you’d been stuck in the windowless studio, and you’re just about ready to walk out and forfeit your paycheck for the week, until your bosses strike up an interesting bargain.
🗨️ Holy fuck 🥵 I feel like I need to take a very long shower now 🫣🫣🫣 this is probably one of the dirtiest fics I’ve read. It’s so good 🤤
⭐Workaholic @hobiwonder [10K]
// myg x f.reader // “‘strangers” to lovers (I don’t want to spoil!) // 🥵😂🥰
📝 Yoongi needs to relax and Hoseok has many tricks up his sleeve to make him. None of them Yoongi thought included hiring a hooker to pay him a visit one stormy night.
🗨️ Wow okay, this was so freaking great! Like, what??? Incredible! A masterpiece! I really really loved it 🥺 everything was so fucking good, their chemistry, the tense build up ugh, so fucking good! 💯 ✨
⭐What the Moon Saw + Stolen Tides @violetsiren90
// myg x f.reader // non-idol!au, f2l // 🥵🥰🌩️
📝 In the words of the great Stevie Nicks, "Time makes you bolder, even children get older, and I'm getting older too."
🗨️ This is just so fucking beautiful. Everything. About. It. Period. 😭 It is emotional, it is young love, and it is tender and loving - like, Yoongi is just so sweet. Their timing sucks, but thankfully Violet wrote a beautiful drabble to give the couple a lovely ending! 💜 Truly, please go read it, it is so good I was crying and felt so good after, it’s sweet – OKAY I’M SOFT I know.
⭐Oh, darling! [series; completed] @yoongiofmine
// myg x f.reader // university!au, non idol au, professor!yoongi, student!reader // 🥰🌩️🥵
📝 Starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you’ve held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought?
🗨️ Holy fucking shit 🥵🫣😳 This is just one of my favorites series, EVER 💜 This is in my top 10, no questions! ✨
⭐Mami @kithtaehyung
// myg x f.reader, knj x f.reader, jhs x f.reader // roommates!au, battle rap!au // 🥵
📝 You somehow have a conversation with Yoongi, and you tell your roommate about a date date.
🗨️ So, so good 🥵 really looking forward to more of this series 🥵 🫣
⭐Damn the Charcuterie Board @bratkook
// myg x f.reader x pjm // bestfriends!au, threesome // 🥵
📝 This doesn’t have a summary, so here goes mine; reader has has a sling of unfulfilling sexual times, and in the company of her best friends, she thinks about a video she watched recently. Could they give her what she needed?
🗨️ This has been on my reading list for so freaking long! 🥹 And now I finally got to read it, and damn, it is one of the best, filthiest fics out there. So, so good! 💯🥵
⭐Cotton Candy Computer (1) [series; discontinued] @softyoongiionly
// myg x f.reader // hacker!au // 🥵🌩️
📝 Min Yoongi is the top hacker in the world. He has put away countless other cyber criminals all whilst evading detection by virtually everyone he has ever crossed paths with, including the government. The diabolical super hacker that came close to tracking him down is now serving a 10 year prison sentence, all thanks to Yoongi’s handiwork. So what happens when the sentence is shortened unexpectedly? What happens when the biggest threat to public safety is roaming the streets again, determined to get revenge on the man who put him away? What happens when the worlds most infamous hacker just so happens to manage your local Mikrokosmic Electronics? A terabyte of trouble.
🗨️ Shit this was incredibly good!!!! Why isn’t it finished? 😭 I don’t usually read unfinished or discontinued series, but the summary really had me and I just had to read it – and now I’m hooked and I want more of this sexy hot hacker Yoongi! 😭 The story was also just so well written and the chemistry between reader and oc was so fucking perfect, and don’t get me started on the smut, like ugh 🥵 Gosh, I’m so sad there aren’t more parts to it (like the author planned four parts). But it’s so so good, and the cliffhanger isn’t horrible (in terms of wanting to read the next chapter). It can definitely be read as a one shot, I just really, really wished there was more, because, fuck, it was perfect! 💯💜✨
⭐Three Tangerines [series; ongoing] @kithtaehyung
// myg x f.reader // fuckboy!yoongi, brother’s best friend!au, age gap!au // 🌩️🥵
📝 Throughout high school, you sometimes caught glimpses of your brother’s older friends: some of them were sweet, some of them were smart. but the one closest to him? that guy was a total f*ckboy from day one. after a foray of horrid relationships spanning years - ending with one that broke up with you for an alarming reason - you needed advice on what the hell you were doing wrong… and this wasn’t a conversation for anyone sweet or smart.
🗨️ I will keep screaming about Ryen and 3tan, yes. And if you have not read it yet, please take 3-7 days off from work or school to do so 😂
⭐Sinful Lust [completed series] @oddinary4bts [71.9K]
// myg x f.reader x jjk // slice of life!au, bisexual boyfriend!yoongi // 🥵🌩️🌩️🌩️
📝 in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...
🗨️ this one is special to me (as is everything Ella writes honestly). This one is very controversial because of the cheating aspect in it, but it feels so real and it’s very well handled! I love it! It’s very angsty too, made me cry multiple times– I was just so invested in it! I’m really trying not to spoil too much (I already have lol). Just, read it okay??? ✨
⭐F*ck Christmas @sailoryooons [23.4K]
// myg x f.reader // f2l // 🥰🥵
📝 Making hating Christmas your entire personality was never the plan. Then again, it seems bad things only ever happen around Christmas - like discovering your fiancé cheating on you, forcing you to move back to your sleepy hometown. But Min Yoongi happens to love Christmas, and if there is one thing your very stubborn childhood crush is going to do, it’s try to reignite your Christmas spirit. Even if he has to force-feed it to you with gingerbread cookies and too-sweet eggnog.
🗨️ Gosh, I remember reading this sometime last year and it was perfection - it still is! ✨ It’s so so so fucking good. If you haven’t read it, please do so 🥹 it’s also one of the best Christmasy fics 💜
⭐Eargasm + Eargasm II @lavishedinjimin [9.5K + 14K]
// myg x f.reader // phonesex!au, sexhotline!au // 🥵
📝 the idea of having your first ever orgasm by talking to a hot, random stranger through your phone scares the living hell out of you, but maybe it won’t be as bad as you think.
🗨️ holy fuck, FUCK. this is insane 🥵🥵🥵
⭐Less of Them [ongoing series] @casuallyimagining [9.9K]
// myg x f.reader // established relationship, arranged marriage!au, star-crossed lovers // 🥵🌩️🥰🪄
📝 as the daughter of one of the oldest families in the kingdom, when the king decides that it's you he wishes to marry, you're forced to make a decision and fulfill your duty, leaving behind everything you've ever known--and the only man you've ever loved.
🗨️ PLEASE, PLEASE— FUCKING PLEASE. If you have not read this one yet. Please do it now 😭🥺 It made me cry in the best way possible! The world building, the characters, their love for each other shines to fucking bright and then– [spoiler] READ IT yelling with hands frantically moving above my head
⭐Things that Grow @violetsiren90 [0.9k]
// myg x f.reader // established relationship, idol!au // 🥰🌩️
📝 the idea of having your first ever orgasm by talking to a hot, random stranger through your phone scares the living hell out of you, but maybe it won’t be as bad as you think.
🗨️ it is so fucking beautiful, I can’t even begin to articulate… fuck. I know it’s very short, but dammit I love it. Every single freaking word in this is PERFECTION.
⭐Hard Liquor @chateautae [8k]
// myg x f.reader x jjk // business!au, age!au, executive boss!yoongi x employee!reader // 🥵
📝 your dull evening at a bar becomes hopeful when your mysterious, handsome boss min yoongi shows you the ropes on everything alcohol, but shows you much more when he ends up buried deep inside you.
🗨️ it was SO FUCKING INCREDIBLE like I don’t even know where to begin??? The smut??? That has left me in utter need of Holy Water, because DAMN 🥵 The writing, flow of the story was also just 💯✨
This is my little corner with my own fics— I don’t write that much (I prefer to read), but it would mean a lot to me if you checked out my work or read it. You don’t have to, it’s up to you of course 🥰
⭐Friendcation [110.5k]
// myg x f. reader // roadtrip!au/camping!au, f2bfwb2l, mechanic!Yoongi // 🥵🥰😂
📝going camping with your best friends seemed like a brilliant idea when you initially made the plans. But when you harbor secret feelings for one of them, what will become of you being close confined for three months? Trouble, that’s what.
🗨️ you might laugh, but this is very special to me because it’s the first long fic I wrote and I wrote it because I missed my sister and brother-in-law (they were going on a roadtrip across Europe, lol).
⭐Learn to Love Again [19.4k ]
// myg x f. reader // hybrid!au (shapeshifter!yoongi), s2l, slice of life!au // 🌩️👻🥵🥰
📝people always leave. They become beautiful stars shining bright in the night sky. When life hands you lemons, you’ve been told to make lemonade, but that is hard when your soul and heart is breaking apart. When you rescue a tiny cat and meet a handsome stranger in the cafe, you finally feel yourself healing – but when they too leave, how are you going to learn to love again?
🗨️ this one is quite sad, but I really adore it. I wrote it when I was very depressed, so it’s very heavy in that department 🥲
And as a something little extra, here’s a few fics that I haven’t had the time to read yet, but damn I’m buzzing to get to read them:
Those Eyes Chico [ongoing series] @kookslastbutton
Burden @casuallyimagining
Pour some sugar on me @yoonia
Turbulence [AO3] by orphan_account
Only Yesterday [completed series] @borathae
Happy birthday to our Lotus flowers, YOONGI!!!! 🥳💜✨
#happy birthday yoongi!!!#yoongi#yoongi fic#bts yoongi#min yoongi#yoongi smut#min yoongi smut#yoongi x reader#bts fic recs#yoongi x you#bangtan#bangtan smut#bangtan fanfic#bangtan x reader#bangtan fic#bts fic#bts smut#bts#bts fanfic#bts imagine#bts x reader#bts x you#min yoongi fanfiction#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi fanfic#myg x reader#myg fic#myg smut#myg#myg angst
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YOUR UNIVERSE // MYG
in which min yoongi refuses to lose you
+
regretting rejecting oc, min yoongi goes through a circus load of gestures and tasks in attempt to be loved again
navi | m. list | ask me ! | send an ask to be on the taglist ! i will not be responding to taglist requests anywhere else !
pairings:
basketball captain // tsundere yoongi + sunshine // preschool edu major oc
au/genre:
friends to lovers
uni au
one sided pining / rejection / redemption / a sad excuse of a slow burn
smut, crack, angst
social media au + written
warnings:
implied + actual smut
angst (oc is heartbroken and trying to move on from being initially rejected)
name calling, love/hate friendships, big egos, overprotective friends, childish social culture, and a burnt out era <3
parts:
30/30 ( completed 03/04/2023 )
index # youniverse myg
00 | intro
01 | like a loser
02 | coincidence
03 | booboo
04 | not my girl ✒️
05 | no
06 | behave
07 | valentine
08 | winners and losers
09 | downbad era
10 | especially you
11 | support
12 | three for three ✒️
13 | dangle
14 | for my ace :)
15 | please
16 | baby
17 | aki & ace
18 | benched
19 | promise
20 | you’re mine
21 | until then
22 | maybe ✒️
23 | no loyalty
24 | shit ✒️
25 | pu$$y fairy
26 | fight
27 | earth
28 | orbit ✒️
29 | nothing/everything
30 | about you ✒️
epilogue
+ extra ! new ace (2)
+ extra ! jealousy (3)
+ extra ! babies (4)
+ extra ! in our forever (5)
+ extra ! first kiss (1)
end.
copyright © 2023, muniimyg on tumblr.
#min yoongi fic#bts suga fic#bts smau#basketball captain yoongi#suga basketball#bts social media edits#bts fanfiction#yoongi fanfic#yoongi smut#yoongi angst#yoongi crack au#yoongi fluff#yoongi f2l#bts f2l#bts crack au
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Kitty Gang (Part 2)
Pairing: Agust D x Reader, Baby J x Reader
Genre: Cyber Punk Au, Unrequited love, f2l
Warnings: Swear Words, Blood
Words: 1.747
Note: Hi, I hope you like the second part of my first fanfic!
When I woke up, I just knew I slept well. I felt rested and I didn't even know I could feel that way. I opened my eyes slowly, hoping it wouldn’t be dark again.
But it was just gloomy and I could hear soft droplets of rain against the window. The room was warm and a bit stuffy.
Baby J was still holding me close to his body. It seemed like we didn’t even move an inch the whole night. I thought about staying a little longer within his embrace but I already had my to-do list on my mind. Only 3 Days till the job.
I was a little bit embarrassed feeling him so close but I didn’t want him to wake up because of me. I was sure, he would be hungover. He always was after his Saturday shift.
I tried to wiggle my way out of his arms but it didn’t go as planned.
Baby J held me even closer to stop my moves.
„Love, please stop.“
„I’m sorry but I have to work.“
He didn’t let me go and pressed me even more against his body. I could feel him. Everything of him. It was too much, and at the moment he ground against me I couldn’t stand it anymore. I stood in a matter of a second next to his bed.
Baby J just laughed at me. „ So shy.“ He said and laughed a little more.
When I stepped out of the room, I could barely see. The ceiling light was on and this rarely happened. Too expensive.
I rubbed my still-tired eyes, something felt odd and I stopped. Baby J bumped into my back. „Ouch! Y/N, if you want to go back into bed, I wouldn’t say no.“
I rolled my eyes at his comment and at this moment I heard it. Someone was in the kitchen. Maybe Agust D but after a night out, he would still be asleep. He would also sleep if he weren’t out, to be honest.
„There is someone in the kitchen, and the door is closed.“
Baby J went back to his room and came back with his gun that always lies on his nightstand. He was the first to go.
Slowly he opened the door to the kitchen.
It was tense, I hid behind him, but was ready to fight If I had to…okay maybe I was ready to run if I had to.
„Hands in the air, fuckers!“ Baby J jelled after slamming the door almost out of its angle.
Silence.
„Chill man, it’s just us.“
A familiar voice!
„Namjoon, what are you doing here? And what the fuck happened to Yoongi?“
I stepped next to Baby J and I was a little confused at the situation in front of me.
Agust sat on the old folding chair, his arms on the table and a bandage around his head.
He looked not really impressed by Baby Js entrance. Maybe it was not the worst thing he witnessed today.
RM leaned against the counter, his arms crossed and his glasses on his head. He also looked not really impressed.
Baby J put his gun into the waistband of his sweatpants and took the chair in front of Agust. „I told you, to not go on your rounds alone, but all the blood suits you.“
„Baby J please.“ I said, „RM, can you please tell us why you are here and why Agust is covered in blood and the kitchen looks like a doctor's office?“
„Y/N! Still not comfy with calling us our real names?“
„Hope was really clear about that, I don’t want to put us in danger.“
„Princess, nobody cares about our names. If someone wants us dead, we are dead.“
It was hard to admit but Baby J was probably right.
„Fine, Namjoon what’s going on?“
„Agust had a little accident with a customer, he pulled a knife and hurt his face, but his eye should be fine, Yoongi called me and I put everything together. End of the story.“
I glanced at Agust, he looked older, tired, and something else I couldn’t figure out. He was not that easy to read.
His eyes or eye looked angry, maybe because his face was slit open.
Baby J put his hand under Agust chin to take a better look at his face. And Agust gaze was even angrier.
„Should we go back and whoop his ass?“ Baby J asked with a grin.
Agust ripped his head away. „No, we have a job soon. This is more imported.“
„Are you getting old, babe? You never said no to stuff like that when we met. Do you remember the one time when you killed that guy with chopsticks?“
Agust groaned and sat back against the chair.
I was worried. I was always so damn worried, so I got out of my trance, and in a second I stood in front of Agust. I took him by his shoulders and shook him. „Why didn’t you call us?“
Surprised. That’s what everyone in the room was, even myself.
Namjoon put his hand on my back. „He is hurt, please go easy on him.“
I let go but still waited for my answer.
Agust stood up suddenly and stared me dead in the eyes. „Because you two were busy being pressed against each other.“
He walked past me, out of the kitchen, and with a loud „Peng“ his door went shut.
„Well that was something.“ Baby J should be quiet sometimes.
Namjoon shook his head and stepped away from the counter.
„It's always fun with you guys. I get going.“
Baby J smiled at him and waved with his gun. „Thanks for putting him together.“
I couldn’t move for another 10 minutes.
I was rested so I took a quick shower and put on a too-big shirt. Sometimes I wished to have a little more fashion sense. Maybe not as extra as Baby J but a little bit more feminine. Would Jimin like that? Yoongi and I share some of our shirts sometimes. He likes my style probably. I’m not sure.
Finally, I was ready to work. Well, I thought I was ready to work. I couldn’t stop thinking about Yoongi. Was he sleeping or was he in pain? I also felt bad for not being able to help him, if I stayed up just a little longer, I could have been by his side but otherwise, he had no right to be mad at us for sleeping in one bed, right?
I’m too old for drama.
Again I stood in front of a closed door and knocked.
„Come in Y/N.“
I opened the door slowly and stepped inside the room. I wasn’t in his room often but every time I am, his desk is covered in sheets and almost empty coffee cups. There weren’t a lot of things in his place but his black guitar is always dust free.
Yoongi sat on his bed, head against his wall and blood-covered clothes still on his body.
I had the urge to change his sheets and his clothes. Would he let me?
But I didn’t ask him that.
„How did you know that it’s me?“
„Jimin doesn’t knock.“
„I See.“
„You feel bad, hmm?“
Why does he always know how to read me. We are not that close, we don’t know each other for long, it was scary but I nodded.
I could hear him sigh but couldn’t face him.
„Forget about it, can you help me fall asleep this time?“
I opened my mouth but not one word came out. I never thought he would notice that I use him for falling asleep. But he did notice and I wanted to help.
„Can you change your clothes first and your sheets. It’s all dirty.“
„Woooow maybe I don’t want you to help me. I Could ask my mom as well.“
„Shut up, then let me do it.“
First I helped him out of bed. He could walk, I saw it earlier but he insisted on leaning on my side for support. I could smell the blood and his sweat. Maybe he also needs a shower.
„I’m going to run you a bath.“
I was gone for a minute and when I came back, his dirty clothes were spread around the floor and he was just in his boxers.
„What the fuck?“ I covered my eyes with my hands. I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to look.
„Based on the fact that you were cuddling Jimin last night, I assumed you saw a man in his underwear at least once.“
„He was wearing joggers.“ I put my hands down.
„Whatever, is the water ready?“
I nodded and he went into the bathroom.
While he was taking care of himself, I took care of his bed.
After I finished I slipped under the covers. He wanted me to help him fall asleep right? So I have to go under his blankets. The fresh covers smelled like our washing powder and I was satisfied with that. Above me was a window. I could only see the bricks of the house next door, but the smell of the fresh sheets reminded me of the sea and a flower field. I should have stayed in my home town...
While I was deep in my thoughts I didn’t hear Yoongi enter the room again.
„Tch, while you made me go wash up, you made yourself a home in my bed?“
„Sorry.“ That was all I said, still a little spaced out. „But the bed is warm now. Should I still help you sleep?“
He didn’t answer but slipped under the covers as well.
„How can I help you? I could just be here or caress your back or…“
„Let me hold you like he held you.“
He looked me directly in the eyes but I wasn’t sure if he really meant it.
I never believed seeing him so vulnerable but his look was pleading.
Maybe the guy hit his head as well.
„Please Y/N.“
So I moved closer and he put his arms around me. No words were needed, like always.
He sighed and pressed me closer to his chest. He shouldn’t sleep if he hit his head, but when I tried to tell him, his eye was already closed, so I started to let my fingernails glide against his back.
He sighed again and his tense body started to relax.
„Y/N.“
„Hmm?“
„Mine, okay?“
#bts fic#agust d#min yoongi#baby j#park jimin#agust d x reader#yoongi x reader#jimin x reader#yoongi f2l#kitty gang#cyberpunk au#bts x reader
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Seven Days Masterlist | JJK | complete
🗓️ pairing: nurse!jungkook x teacher!reader
🗓️ au/genre: non-idol au, brother's friend au, fwb, age-gap(reader is older), f2l, fluff, angst, smut
🗓️ series rating: M
🗓️ total wc: 34,413
🗓️ series warnings: emotionally constipated pairing, reader is older, adult worries, growing older, dating younger, time passing and not hitting milestones everyone else is, biological clock ticking woes, angsty argument, feeling like being emotionally cheated on despite being single, parents with toxic viewpoints, judgemental people, self doubt, explicit sexual content: each chapter will provide specifics, but in general, there will be sex in every part, each one showcasing jungkook and reader in various types of sexual situations including sleepy sex, oral sex (m & f receiving), light bondage sex, quickie sex with one partner not breaking off another night, drunk sex (dubious consent but neither feels taken advantage of), make up sex, and semi-public sex.
🗓️ an: please, please, please, blame @colormepurplex2 for this. It was not something I planned to do, but she talked me into it (she did not have to try hard, let’s be honest) and she is 100% right. This story needed to be told. Leah also helped me create the banners, so if you like them, it’s because of her creative input! @downbad4yoongi also deserves blame now, but in the best way, for helping to expand the characters depth, and @heathfritillary-blog for her writing knowledge helping me find the motivators and reasons for the characters, challenging me to be a better writer. @mrsparkjimin18, @peachiilovesot7, and @abitjess, thank you for all that you do, hyping me up and helping me to piece together this story!
🗓️ an 2: reader being a teacher plays no real role in the story other than to help link the characters, it is summer break, so school is not in session!
🗓️ series summary: “Leave you with that afterglow, show you what devotion is, deeper than the ocean is…” Jungkook has been your best friend since you met him when he was still in college thanks to your younger brother, Yoongi. Despite your age gap, he easily fell into your world, your life, and your bed. Forced to confront the growing feelings as the pressure to meet adult milestones like your friends grow stronger, you struggle to be honest with yourself. “What you waiting for, better come and hit ya goals.”
Monday - wind it back, i’ll take it slow
wc: 1,741
summary: “Wind it back, I’ll take it slow, Leave you with that afterglow…” Jungkook has been your best friend since you met him when he was still in college thanks to your brother, Yoongi. Despite your age gap, he easily fell into your world, your life, and your bed…
posted: Monday 7-24-23 @ 9 am
Tuesday - “lemme swallow your pride”
wc: 3,629
summary: “Open up say ahhh, Come here, baby, let me swallow your pride…” Jungkook comes over for an impromptu movie night that triggers some internal angst. You share a little, and he shares a lot... and your angst turns a little green. To change the topic when it gets a little too deep, you deepthroat him.
posted: Tuesday 8-1-2023 @ 12 am
Wednesday - “it’s the way that you can ride”
wc: 4,622
summary: “It’s the way that you can ride, it’s the way that you can ride…” Picking an outfit for a wedding is hard enough without your friends with benefits turning you on. Especially when he makes a tie look so sexy, you can’t help but use it to get him right where you need him to be. Ties make great reigns, and Jungkook is willing for you to be the leading lady, in more ways than one.
posted: Wednesday 8-2-2023 @ 12 am
Thursday - “so break me off another night”
wc: 3,596 + text messages
summary: “So break me off another night” might be what he says, but after a day full of meddling parents, a quickie, and meddling friends, some things come to light, and there might not be another night for you to break him off...
posted: Thirstday 8-10-2023 @ 12 am
Friday - “i must be favored to know ya”
wc: 5,665 + text messages
summary: “I must be favored to know ya.” Having Jungkook in your life is so much sweeter than you ever thought. It would be great if you could just tell him, but showing him is as good as it gets for now…until you slip up and let the cat out of the bag. But it turns out, you aren’t the only one who has feelings for him, and you definitely aren’t the only one who wants to ride him. When your biggest fears come to light, knowing Jungkook the way that you do might become a thing of the past.
posted: Friday 8-18-2023 @ 12 pm
Saturday - “i kiss your waist and ease your mind”
wc: 6,323 + text message
summary: “i kiss your waist and ease your mind.” The only thing that could make you feel better is the same thing that made you feel worse. You and Jungkook are both confused with your emotions, but two different stories help you both see a bit more clearly. The only problem is that when the two of you get around each other, clarity goes bye-bye. don’t let these soft lyrics fool you; make up sex doesn’t actually solve any issues if sex is the only communication that happens.
posted: Monday 9-4-2023 @ 10:57 am
Sunday - “i'll be loving you right, seven days a week”
wc: 8,837 + text message
summary: “i’ll be loving you right, seven days a week.” Yoongi's wedding has brought up a lot of feelings, but with so many things left unsaid, it's hard to know where you and Jungkook stand. Can the two of you wrap around each other and bring life to a relationship?
posted: Sunday 10-8-2023 @ 10:01 pm
↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2023. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.
#seven days masterlist#bts fluff#jungkook x reader#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook au#jungkook writings#bts angst#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfiction#hisunshiine writings#bts imagines#bts#bts reactions#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts scenarios#bts x reader#bts smut#bts au
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the airdrop incident | myg
🗿pairing: yoongi x reader
🗿genre: fluff, neighbor!au, f2l, childhood friends, best friend's brother
🗿summary: You accidentally AirDrop a racy photo of yourself in strappy lingerie to your hot and arrogant neighbor Min Yoongi.
🗿word count: 1k
a/n: yes this is for yoongi's bday and yes im 471298 years late🥹
An onlooker might be wondering why you’re standing outside your neighbor’s door at ass o’clock in nothing but an oversized tee, but the answer is simple. Mistakes were made. You’re an idiot.
But then he has the audacity to answer the door. “He” as in Min Yoongi, your childhood friend slash nemesis, the older brother of your best friend, or, in the simplest terms, your hot neighbor.
“Yes?” he raises a brow, staring at the way you’re shivering outside his door, the way your perky nipples are most definitely poking through your shirt. You’re sure he sees it all. But given the fact that he’s also seen you practically naked, you don’t even bother covering up. What’s the point?
“Did you, by chance, get an AirDrop like five minutes ago?” you get straight to the point. It’s fucking freezing, after all.
“Depends,” he hums, eyes still very much on your chest. You’re pretty sure he’s dating that pretty brunette you’ve seen sneaking in and out of his house lately, so why’s he looking at you like that? “What was the AirDrop?”
“A picture of me,” you mumble. It was freezing a minute ago, but now your face feels hot. That’s weird.
“Hmm, not sure if the one I’m thinking of is you or not.” The bastard puts on his most exaggerated thinking face—basically the thinking emoji with the hand on his chin. “What were you wearing?”
“Nothing!” you squeak at him. Both of you know no one fucking uses AirDrop except old people. He’s obviously playing dumb and knows what’s going on. He just wants to hear it from your mouth to make his ego bigger than it already is. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“Pretty sure you were wearing something…” he furrows his brow, unlocking his phone to “confirm” what he saw. Like your favorite villain Swiper the Fox, you snatch the phone out of his hand. (He actually just hands it to you, but you like the Dora reference.) “Ah, yes. Black strappy lingerie, right? I didn’t know you were like that, Y/N.”
“Fuck you,” you hiss as you search for the pic in question. AirDrop must have its own stupid section on the phone because you can’t find it anywhere.
“Relax, I already deleted it,” he chuckles. You’re not falling for it. Surely he’s already leaked the photo on OnlyFans. You don’t have a whole lot of faith in Min Yoongi. He’s never been The Nice Guy. “Who were you trying to send it to?”
“None of your business.” He has a girlfriend, after all. Why should he care about who you’re sending those kinds of pics to?
“My sister?”
“Fine. Yes, her.”
“You’re sneaking around sending nudes to my sister? On AirDrop?” he narrows his eyes. Why does he seem more disgusted at the AirDrop part? You’d laugh if you weren’t so stressed. “She’s in a very committed relationship, you know.”
“I’m aware.” You don’t know what’s worse—him thinking you’re hitting on his sister aka your best friend, or admitting the pic was from a photoshoot for your new job. There are no winners here. Might as well come clean. “She requested the pic so she could show support for her lingerie model best friend.”
“My little Y/N grew up and became a lingerie model?” He tilts his head, intrigued. He might’ve deleted the pic from his phone, but you bet the image is still ingrained in that fuckboy head of his. You wonder how his girlfriend feels about him thinking about other girls in that context. You’d feel shitty. “In that case, I’d also like to show support. Mind if you send the pic ag—”
You cut him off with a growl.
“I kid, I kid.” He waves his hands so you don’t pounce on him. But then something occurs to him. “Wait, so AirDropping it to me wasn’t ‘an accident’?” he asks with air quotes.
“No, it was a real accident, Yoongi,” you scoff. You can’t believe he thought you’d intentionally sent that pic to him. He’s so full of himself.
“Well that’s no fun.”
“Elaborate.”
“It would’ve been kinda cute if you did it to get my attention,” he shrugs. “Just like when we were younger. Remember how you’d always tug on my arm and pout until I acknowledged you?”
“No, but it’s kinda weird that you remember it.” You finally cross your arms in front of your chest. “It’s also kinda weird that you want my attention when that’s what your girlfriend is there for.”
“It’s kinda weird that you keep up with my love life and know I have a girlfriend,” he fires back at you. “I’m breaking up with her, by the way. Just in case you wanted to know.”
You pause the petty war for a second. Min Yoongi is breaking up with his girlfriend because you accidentally sent him one (1) risqué pic of yourself? To be fair, you do look pretty hot in that photo. But still! You’ve known the guy your entire life, and all it’s ever amounted to was banter with a hint of feelings on your end. You’d always assumed Yoongi thought of you as nothing more than his little sister’s friend. Surely he’s just toying with you right now. Because that’s what fuckboys do.
That’s what Min Yoongis do.
“Good to know,” you nod, the cold breeze coming back. You better leave now before you do something stupid again. Stupid AirDrop. “Well, I’m gonna go now. It’s fucking cold.”
You drop his phone into his palm, your fingers grazing his in the process. They’re so warm. But your fluffy blanket is warmer. And it’d never betray you.
“Thanks for only being a slight dick about the pic,” you say, scurrying off to your doorstep.
“Anytime,” he smirks. Asshole. “I’ll AirDrop you later.”
“I don’t want your dick pics, sir.”
You hear his laugh before closing the door.
A minute later, you get an AirDrop of what you hope is not in fact a dick pic. You accept it immediately.
It’s a blurry selfie of him on his bed, flipping you off with an emphasis on how much extra mattress space he has. That has to be the quickest breakup of all time. They don’t call him a fuckboy for nothing. You shouldn't feel this tempted.
He accompanies the pic with one simple text:
Yoongi🗿 [2:03AM] “Your loss”
#bts scenarios#bts fanfic#bts imagines#yoongi fanfic#yoongi x reader#bts x reader#bts fluff#yoongi fluff#bts f2l#suga fanfic#suga x reader
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tis the damn season’ (2) | jjk
pairing: jungkook x reader
rating: 18+ (no smut in this chapter just a makeout scene 🙈)
genre: f2l? more like idiots to lovers, mutual pining, angst, fluff, eventual smut
warnings: infidelity and just general bad decision making skills lmao, jealousy, arguing, swearing, one mention of a dick, kissing, making out. jk’s a bit of a player but he has his reasons.
w/c: 3.2k
a/n: pt.2 is here!!!! so sorry it took a while. enjoy :)
summary: When Jimin convinces you to spend christmas in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with your entire friend group, you’re forced to face the feelings that you’ve been suppressing for your best friend Jungkook after all these years.
“I must say, you’re the most stable person I know and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you crumble like this.” Yoongi is kind enough to be up at 6 am with Jungkook, making him coffee as he sits at the kitchen island with his head on the cold surface.
He spent the whole night tossing and turning next to the girl he’d stupidly invited in an attempt to not seem like a loser to you. Clearly, you didn’t feel the same way, that was evident by the fact that you almost married another man and still didn’t even reach out when you broke the engagement off. He just didn’t want you to think he was a loser who had spent the last three months sulking. He had.
“I know, I’m a mess,” Jungkook starts, face pressed into the table, “and she’s nice, Isabelle I mean, and I like her…”
Yoongi places the cup of coffee next to Jungkook and finishes his sentence for him, “But she’s not y/n.”
It’s weird. In senior year Jungkook had gotten a girlfriend. She was a cheerleader with a swishy ponytail that had latched onto your friend group, always wanting to be around him. You’d gotten weirdly distant at that time, cancelling your after-school study sessions only for him to find out you were doing them with Jimin instead. It’s like sometimes he got the feeling that you didn’t want him to be with other people and that gave him hope that you might have felt the same, but you never told him. No angry love confessions in the rain, nothing. You never made a move. And it messed with his head until he felt dizzy and utterly confused about just what the hell you wanted.
“Did you invite her here just to make y/n jealous?” Namjoon’s voice booms a little too loud as he comes down the stairs and into the kitchen, causing Jungkook to sit up and wince.
He sighs, “Yes, well- no not exactly.”
“Then why?”
He looks up at Namjoon who looks slightly disappointed and his heart pangs a little, suddenly feeling like that 15-year-old who would do anything for Joon’s approval again.
He groans, “I thought she’d be mad and ignore me or something.”
Namjoon shakes his head, he knows you would never.
“I just thought if I brought another girl she’d think that I moved on and we could just go back to being normal again.”
Jungkook looks up at Yoongi as if he’s checking for approval, he’s met with a very disapproving stare. Yoongi sighs, “Jungkook, are you stupid?”
He frowns, big round eyes staring at Yoongi. “No?” Maybe he was, waiting 10 years to tell you he loved you when it was far too late was kind of stupid.
“She loves you, you realise that right?”
Jungkook sighs, “Yeah I know b-”
Yoongi cuts him off, “No, not as a friend idiot. She loves you.” He shakes his head rapidly.
“You know she messaged me every week asking how you were after you fell out? She made me send pictures of you and Bam because she missed you. Jungkook, you put her in an awkward situation, she was engaged. But that doesn’t mean she didn’t feel the same way. You never asked her how she felt, did you?”
Taehyung knows Jungkook like the back of his hand. He knows that his guilty pleasure is chilli cheese fries, he remembers a time in college when that was all he ate for an entire week. He knows that Jungkook unwinds on a weekend by watching crappy reality tv because he caught him one time before he could change the channel. He also knows that Jungkook doesn’t like losing. And that’s how he knows this plan will work.
Truthfully, Tae has always been flirty with you. He’s flirty with everyone, but you usually laugh him off, never taking his compliments seriously. That’s why Jungkook’s a little confused at your sudden interest in him. All day you’ve been clinging to him and laughing at his jokes like he’s the funniest guy in the world. Jungkook knows he’s not that funny. Even now as you all attempt to build snowmen in the cabin’s garden you both look like something out of a hallmark movie, all bundled up with hats and scarves as you throw snowballs at each other.
It’s Seokjin who notices Jungkook’s frown as he stands next to his snowman watching you and Tae.
“Why is your snowman buff?”
Jungkook breaks his gaze away from you two, turning to Seokjin. He can still hear your giggles as Tae shoves snow down the back of your coat and chases you with another lump of it that’s probably big enough to knock you out.
He shrugs, “Wanted it to look like me. Why does yours have a dick?”
“Wanted it to look like me.” Seokjin remarks, eliciting probably Jungkook’s first smile today. “What’s got you all frowny?”
Jungkook shakes his head, the tassels on his woolly hat shaking with him, “Ah, nothing.”
“Does that ‘nothing’ have to do with those two?”
Now his attention’s back on you again. You’re far too close to Taehyung’s face, brushing snow off of his cheeks and apologising, saying you hadn’t meant to actually get him in the face.
“Just didn’t know they were that close.”
“They’re not usually.”
It’s when you come jogging towards Jungkook and Seokjin that the conversation stops. You’re a little out of breath from all the running as you stand in front of them, admiring Jungkook’s snowman with a smile.
“Always the perfectionist. Mine’s already fallen apart. How is yours so stable?” You laugh.
“I dunno.” He answers, unusually sharply and it has you turning to look at him with a cock of your head.
“Everything okay?”
That’s Seokjin’s cue to leave and he busies himself with trying to kick Jimin’s work of art down.
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?” He doesn’t know where to look and settles on his shoes. At least they’re not boring into his soul like your eyes are right now.
“Okay yeah, I don’t know. Just checking.” You smile again as if you truly have no idea why he seems upset. Of course you do, yours and Tae’s whole act is painfully obvious to everyone else in the cabin, but Jungkook isn’t exactly the most rational thinker when it comes to you. “Where’s Isabelle?”
“Oh, she’s uh, inside. She doesn’t like snow.”
You frown, “Who doesn’t like snow?”
He shrugs, finally looking up at you.
“I think my toes are gonna freeze off if I’m out here any longer. I’m gonna go warm up so I’ll check up on her.” You add.
No. That’s the worst thing that could happen. You and Isabelle alone? Talking? She’d surely tell you that she wasn’t actually Jungkook’s girlfriend, just a casual hook-up and that she has no real idea why he invited her. He shudders at the thought.
“So you’re not dating?”
Once you’d pressed yourself up against the heater until your fingers gained some colour again and double-layered on fresh socks, you padded down the stairs to find Isabelle sitting on the couch alone.
“No. He made it very clear it was nothing more than sex for him, which is fine, but I don’t know if that’s what I want anymore, in life you know?”
You nod. Isabelle is lovely, she’s sweet and gentle and you’re sure you would have been friends in another life if she wasn’t fucking the guy you’d been pining over for years.
“And I guess I’m a little confused. When I brought up getting more serious he avoided the conversation and things got awkward. Then he invites me here, it’s all a little confusing. I don’t wanna talk badly about him, I know he’s your best friend and he’s a great guy but- I feel like he’s messing with me.”
“Isabelle, this is our first conversation and I can already tell how good of a person you are. I care about Jungkook too but you’d be crazy to think that hook-ups are all you deserve,” You sigh, “If you want something more, go and find someone willing to give you that.”
And you truly mean that. Sure, you’d had conversations with his past girlfriends like this, and maybe those times you had an ulterior motive when you advised them to go and find someone else, but seeing her sit in front of you so vulnerable, you mean it this time.
She nods, “I’m well into my 20’s, I’ve never had a serious relationship and I want it. I want kids one day. I want it all. How do you do it?”
That makes you laugh.
“Not very successfully. I was engaged, for a while. I broke it off a few months ago. He was a nice guy, he was stable and he was always there, but I never had that feeling you know? That teenage excitement. I never felt that with him.”
Well, that’s not entirely untrue. He never did give you that electric feeling that you’ve always been searching for, you just leave out that only Jungkook seems to give it to you. You’d had endless arguments with Mark where he’d pressed you to just tell him why you weren’t putting your whole heart into it. He could always tell that he was far more invested than you were, and he knew the reason why. He knew exactly what, or who, was stopping you from fully committing to him. He hadn’t blamed you as you left him, he understood that you just don’t pick who you love.
When everyone starts piling in from the garden, you excuse yourself into helping an almost frozen Taehyung warm up.
Jungkook can’t bear the sight. You carefully take off Tae’s hat and scarf as you rub his arms in an attempt to warm him up while he watches you far too lovingly. He’d rather retreat upstairs to his room and let his head spin with the image of you and Tae and the worry of what you and Isabelle had been talking about while he slips further and further into madness. He doesn’t expect you to follow though, bumping into you in the hallway.
“Hey,” you start, “can we talk?”
“About what?” He’s still pulling on a fresh sweater as you stand in front of him in the quiet hallway. All the noise of the house is coming from downstairs and he worries you can hear his heartbeat in the quiet up here.
“What are you doing with Isabelle?”
That catches him off guard and he frowns down at you. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t you think it’s unfair messing with her like that? I’m only saying this as your friend, she’s such a nice girl. What exactly are you doing?”
“I don’t understand what you’re insinuating?”
You cross your arms. It’s one of his more frustrating traits, pretending he doesn’t understand when he doesn’t want to talk about something.
“Jungkook.” You deadpan.
He runs a hand through his hair, “No, I’m sorry, I don’t understand why you’re interfering with my love life. I don’t know what she said to you but what we have right now is working perfectly fine.”
You scoff, loudly. How very rich of him, to criticise you for interfering when that’s all he’s done to you your whole life, interfere with every guy you’ve ever liked. “Seriously? You wanna talk about interfering?”
He laughs dryly, looking away from you. He knows you’re right. All he can do is attempt to deflect.
“I didn’t interfere with you and Mark. I never did, I told you how I felt. It’s different.”
“What and you think I was able to just carry on after that confession? You think I brushed that off like it was nothing?”
“Sure seemed like it.”
Now he’s just being hurtful, and he knows it. He can see it in your eyes. Whenever he’s mean to you, you get a look. Eyes glossy and eyebrows peaked in confusion.
“That’s not fair Jungkook.”
“What’s fair about any of this?” His voice is louder now and you pray everyone downstairs isn’t listening in on the conversation, especially not the girl he brought here. “What was fair about you turning me away that night? Do you think it was easy for me to see you with him? It was fucking horrible, okay? I hated every second you were with him. Now today you’re hanging off of Tae’s arm. So excuse me if I’m not being fair, I’m not exactly having a nice time right now.”
Tears threaten to spill down your cheeks and you mentally scold yourself for being so damn emotional. You know he can see right through you right now. He stands with a hand on his hip, looking like he’s mad at you and you hate it. You hate it so much that your face tells him just how much you hate it.
He continues, a little softer this time, “I just mean that maybe I’m not exactly over what happened, okay? You didn’t even hear me out. You dropped me from your life. That’s hard to get over and I’m- I don’t know.”
“I had to drop you Jungkook. There was no chance of me having a successful relationship with you in my life.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
You’re exasperated now, frustrated that you have to spell everything out for him. This time your voice is louder. “God, every single boyfriend I’ve ever had has hated you. You have literally ruined all of my relationships and you don’t even realise it. I couldn’t physically bring myself to commit to anybody with you looming over me, always like a damn question mark in my head, okay?”
Truthfully, he had no idea you felt like that. He’s always been pretty poor at picking up on hints and cues and he completely missed that. He always felt that you meant so much more to him than he meant to you. You went about your life and your relationships just fine while he sat at home and yearned for you, that’s what he had thought up until now.
“What?” Is all he can manage.
“How am I supposed to be with other people when you’re always a possibility? As soon as I think I’m finally over you, you come back and-”
“Over me?” He steps towards you, like a reflex at your words. “What do you mean over me?”
“You know what I mean.” You’re practically whispering now. It’s somehow embarrassing to be so vulnerable and you feel even more sympathy towards the Jungkook who turned up at your door and confessed to you now that you’re in his place.
“You never even told me you liked me, now you’re telling me you’re over me?”
“How could I tell you Jungkook? I was engaged.”
His head is a complete mess, spinning and cartwheeling.
“You’re telling me that that night, when I told you I loved you, you didn’t turn me away because you didn’t feel the same?”
“No!” You shake your head, “I thought it was so obvious, how was it not obvious to you? I turned you away because breaking one guy's heart was easier than breaking two. If I told you I felt the same, Mark would have left. That’s why I had to leave him because it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair being with him when I’m in love with someone else, okay?”
He’s completely silent. Just staring down at you. There’s a lot he wants to say, years and years worth of things, but his brain can’t even string two words together. Maybe he is stupid, but he never thought that you felt the same. Of course, he considered it a possibility, but a far-fetched one. Hearing you say that you love him doesn’t even feel real, he’s not even sure if he’s awake right now.
“You love me?”
“Yes. And you’ve moved on and I know that’s my fault because I missed my chance to tell you I felt the same but-”
He cuts off your rambling, “I haven’t. Moved on I mean. Not at all.”
“You invited a girl. Obviously, you have, and that’s fine.”
Now he has that desperate look again, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as his eyes dart across your face. “We’re not serious. I’m in love with someone else.”
It’s your turn for your head to spin. Sure, he’d said it once before, but you never expected he’d still feel the same way. It’s weird, how you two always seem to pull together. No matter how bad of a time it is, it’s like you can’t stay away from each other. Even now with your faces inches apart, you’re spiked with the horrible feeling that you’re doing something bad. Even if he’s not serious with her, it’s not right for her to be sitting downstairs while he’s up here with you, yet again confessing his love.
“What’s going on with you and Taehyung?” He says quietly.
You reply far too quickly, “Nothing. Was trying to make you jealous.”
That’s enough for him and he steps impossibly closer again. He sucks in a sharp breath, looking down at your face as if he’s weighing up whether or not this is a bad decision. The little devil on his shoulder wins because he’s grabbing your face and crashing his lips on yours. It’s hungry and desperate the way he kisses you like he can’t bear not being on your lips for a second longer. You melt into him as you wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. You can taste just how sweet this moment is and you savour every second of his vulnerability.
“Bad idea” You mumble onto his lips as his hands move from your face to wrap themselves around your waist and pull you flush against him.
“Don’t care.” He replies, pulling back for a second to catch his breath. You pull him back in, afraid that if he has even a second to think this through you might lose him, but he kisses like he wouldn’t dream of letting you go. He lets none of you go to waste and it’s a dance of tangled breaths as he finally softens, slowing down a little. He pulls away again, looking at you for a while before planting a small kiss on your mouth, pulls away, and plants another one. You feel winded, you’re out of breath, your lips a little swollen and your chest heaves slowly with an endearing warmth that you swear you’ve never felt before. It’s Jimin calling your name from the bottom of the stairs that makes you both jump and pull away from each other.
“We should probably go down.” He breathes out, scratching the back of his head. It’s so charming, how he kisses you like you’re the last meal he’ll ever have and almost immediately regresses into his shy self the minute he pulls away. His cheeks are dusted red and his lips are covered with your pink, smudged around his mouth and down his chin a little.
“You have lipstick all over you.” You point out, giggling quietly.
“Oh shit. Get it off.”
#jungkook fic#jungkook x reader#bts#bts fic#bts x reader#jungkook smut#jungkook#jeon jungkook#bangtan#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x you#fanfic#fanfiction
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