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frostedkookie · 7 years

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oblivion | pt.1

(n.) the state of being unaware of what is happening around you

pt.1

‣ Words: 6,037

‣ Genre: Jungkook!Black Mirror/Future Au, NamjoonxReader smut

‣ Summary: In this futuristic world, why have your own emotions when you can easily take someone else’s?

‣ A/N: I am so obsessed with this story guys it’s not even funny. This isn’t really a NamjoonxReader story, I just put Namjoon’s character in here to help with the plot! This story is inspired by… We Happy Few, Black Mirror, SyFy’s Alice, Tinder 2.0 by @tayegi, Block B’s Nalina, and a whole lot of weird from my brain.

You roll over in your bed, groaning as the peppy alarm tone from your handheld chirps. It sounds like a bird, although much more artificial and mechanic. You listen to the chirruping for a few more seconds; maybe if you just lay there and do nothing, it will all stop and you’ll magically have two more hours to sleep before work.

The chirps continue.

You grab your thin, see through handheld from the bedside table and light it up, the alarm options immediately brightening the rectangle of glass. Pressing snooze, you try to roll back over in your bed, but the mechanic birds have done their job: you’re unable to fall back asleep.

Groaning, you click the shower button on your handheld, hearing the warm spray of water start up from the next room over. You watch the bathroom door until steam starts to roil from beneath, and your bladder starts to groan. Hopping out of your warm cocoon of covers, you press the temperature button on your handheld down a few notches and walk into your, now, sauna like bathroom, immediately heading for the toilet. Once you’d wiped and flushed, you stripped away the large nightshirt you were wearing and the matching short shorts, the silky fabric falling into the dirty clothes hamper gracefully.

If you weren’t already awake, the warm jet of water from the multiple shower heads lining the shower gave you a sudden shock. You rubbed some of the water on your face, washing away the rest of your night’s sleep.

You pressed the shampoo button on the keypad installed in the wall of the shower, and placed your other hand under the small cutout beside it where your shampoo would be dispensed. You’d learned after multiple attempts, begrudgingly, that the shampoo dispensed rapidly as soon as you pressed the button on the keypad.

You lathered your bright dyed burgundy hair in a cloud of lavender smelling suds, basking in the feel of your fingertips massaging into your scalp. Once you’d rinsed and conditioned, you pressed the button on the keypad for the soap, and flinched as multiple streams of lemon-esque, liquid soap spurted from the facets lining the walls of the shower.

You lathered your whole body carefully, taking your time to massage the soap into your limbs. You felt sore and achy, although you couldn’t remember doing anything strenuous the day before, besides your daily walk on the treadmill after work.

Once the shower had powered off – set automatically for fifteen minutes to conserve water – you wrapped your body in a large, fluffy towel and set about the strenuous process of drying your hair. Once the burgundy mass was dried, you stuffed it into a chignon-like bun on the top of your head, leaving a few small strands to hang loose around your face.

You held your toothbrush under the dispenser in the wall by the sink, setting out to clean your mouth before applying your makeup. When the paste was rinsed from your mouth, you expertly painted your face in elaborate colors and schemes. You liked wearing your foundation a little darker than the norm – most women your age preferred the ghostly white shade to allow the bright red and pinks of their rogue to stand out. You, however, stuck to the more natural side, choosing instead to highlight your face with an array of eyeshadows and lipsticks. Today, you applied a sea foam green palette to your eyes, basing it with a shimmering silver eye liner and green lashes to stand out against your blush. Your bright blue lipstick was one you’d picked up the day before: a new spring collection you just couldn’t wait to get your hands on.

You pressed the button for your coffee pot on your handheld, and after you were clad in your normal blush pink blouse and white skirt you wore to work, you were led into the kitchen by the savory smell of roasted coffee beans. Popping an egg and bacon package into your automatic cooker, you sipped your freshly poured mug of coffee and glanced at your handheld, trying to sneak a peek at the social streams flowing through before you’d have to leave for work.

When your eggs and bacon were settled happily in your stomach, you grabbed the little glass jar of Joy pills on top of the counter and popped one of the dusty pink capsules into your mouth, swallowing it down with your last swing of coffee.

You’d been taking the Joy pills for almost a week now, and you could see your days already brighter than before. The Joys would be something that stayed in your life, if nothing else. Usually, the Ez’s were in liquid form, but your friend Jimin had scored you a test trial of the new pill prototypes, and you were in heaven.

You smiled down at your handheld, letting it lock itself and then placing it into your work bag. You grabbed your key fob, pressed the automatic button ignition button to have your module started up before you reached it in the driveway. The module settings immediately lit up your handheld, and you dug it out of the bag to crank the heater on in the module. Even though spring was fast approaching, the morning air was still nippy, and your arms tended to have bad circulation in the cold.

As you walked briskly towards your module, your pink pumps clinked against the sidewalk: the only sound heard on this quiet Monday morning. Your grey two-seater was perched excitedly in the drive, right where you’d left it the night before. It was a tiny thing, something your mother had complained about not being suited for a family. When you bought it as a teenager, however, you hadn’t been thinking of the future family you’d have, and have to transport around. Now, however, with your dating age rapidly coming to termination, you were going to have to desperately start looking for a long time match.

“Good morning, Y/N. Where will we be going today?” The automated voice of your module sounded cheerily through the speakers as you sat down. You placed your work bag into the passenger seat and buckled before replying.

“To work, please,” you replied

“To work it is. What would you like me to play on the radio to make your ride more comfortable?” The module began pulling out, letting you recline your seat back slightly and stare out the window as it began the short commute to the module parking deck beside your building.

“Play the news, please,” the local news channel started up immediately; you found that taking a Joy in the morning made listening to the news much more enjoyable.

“And lastly, we are proud to announce that ZICO company is placing on the market for sell, starting next week, a whole new collection of Spring Emotions that will sure fire kick start your new season. Those of which include, Euphoria, Fascination, Meditation, and Innocence. Shipments of the new Emotions will begin today! We are so pleased with the satisfaction ZICO provides this great nation.” You listened intently as the President continued making her morning speech. Her gravelly voice flitted through your radio, but you couldn’t contain your excitement. There hadn’t been a new shipment of Ez’s on the market since summer, and with Jimin owning one of the largest local Hot Bars, you were sure to be able to try at least a couple early.

“Thank you for listening to the daily Presidential address. And remember, equality is for us all,” the radio clicked off immediately, ending the local broadcast and the news for the day. You started to ask your module to play some classical music for the rest of the ride, until you realized the module was parking itself in its normal spot in your company’s deck.

It shut itself off after parking, ejecting the fob into your waiting hand and closing the door after you’d stepped out, locking the doors with a quick swipe of your thumbprint.

Your walk into the office was a bit louder than usual. The automatons in the shape of birds had sprung out of their nests and were occasional swooping through the air to let out beautiful, electronic music. Just as you were about to step up to the stairs, a swatch of dingy cloth caught your eye near the base of the building. Peering closer, you saw the humped over shape of a women, obviously homeless, with a paper cup held out in her hand.

The Joy was still coursing through your system, making your heart light and airy. Eagerly, you walked over to the women, giving a small pat to the black dog you noticed was sitting beside her. You dropped a small coin in the cup, gave her a genuine smile, and turned to head into work.

Your office was already a buzz with life with you finally reached your desk. You’d worked at ZICO Light and Electricity for nearly five years, and every day you dreaded coming to work. However, in the last week, the new Joy pills made you smile brightly at the thought of climbing behind your desk and getting to work.

“Hey, Y/N!” You heard a bright voice call from the top of the partition the separated your cubicle from the one directly to your left. Glancing up, you saw your coworker, Taehyung, smiling down at you brightly, his chin resting on his crossed arms. The few strands of dyed mint hair in his bangs flopped nonchalantly into his heavily kohled eyes.

“Good morning, Taehyung,” you smiled cheerily up at him. While you weren’t sure how much you trusted your coworker, you couldn’t help but admit that his happy-go-lucky personality always seemed to brighten up the workplace. However, his obnoxious reputation of being a player was something that made you keep your guard up.

You could feel the effects of the Joy slowly start to dwindle as your mind wandered to Taehyung’s social stream from the night before. You’d, as always, given his stream a 10 rating, although you weren’t necessarily sure you thought that highly of the alluded threesome he was going to be having after his raging party, one of the many for the week.

You couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be at one of his parties, however. Your mind teased the idea of shooting back so many different kinds of Ez’s with Taehyung and your friends, you’d be in a cloudy, drunken haze through the next morning. Sometimes Taehyung would come into work still drunk from his dozens of shots of Ez’s, and you’d sit and ponder how it would feel.

His feed was always full of slightly blurry photographs, the most brilliant things in the photographs being the dozens of shots of Ez’s held up. Last night, you’d skimmed through his make out session with girl one, watched him smile with his close friend Yoongi, and then make out with girl two. There were a few photos of him with both girls, wrapped up in them in an array of too short skirts and colored shots, before his feed abruptly ended for the night.

No matter how blurry or helter-skelter Taehyung’s feed was, it still earned him a 9.7 rating, something you could only dream of having.

“Y/N, did you hear me?” Taehyung asked, the kohl around his narrowed eyes making the slits looking even thinner. You jerked to attention, smiling sheepishly.

“I’m so sorry, Taehyung. I didn’t get much sleep last night. What did you say?”

“I was just telling you how great those eggplant parmesan puffs looked that you shared. I rated them a 10. You’ll have to give me the recipe for them, or bring some into the office sometime.” Taehyung smiled.

“Oh, of course!” you gasped, laughing and mentally trying to clear your calendar. If you skipped your yoga class that Thursday, you could have the puffs baked for Friday. You almost giggled out loud at the thought of your rating going up by the weekend. “I’ll see if I have some time to bring them in soon.”

“Great, I can’t wait.” Taehyung ducked his head back down into his cubicle, just as the buzzer sounded for the workday to begin. You heard the simultaneous clicking of computer mice as your coworkers around the office began their day.

You worked continuously until your lunch break, as you were supposed to. The buzzer sounded, and the whole office seemed to sigh with relief like one giant, exhausted entity. Grabbing a small, pre-packaged salad out of the small fridge below your desk, you choose to stay in your cubicle instead of heading down to the cafeteria.

Munching on the salad thoughtfully, your mind once again trailed back to Taehyung and his many partying antics. What would it take for you to be one of those girls in the photos with him? Of course, you’d flown through their feeds, looking at their lean bodies and symmetrical faces with extra scrutiny. They’d both been 9.6’s.

Glancing down at the salad you were eating, your stomach groaned. Ever since you’d posted a bikini picture the following summer, and received a 4.5 rating on the photo overall, you’d been desperately trying to control your figure and watch what you ate, hoping to be in shape by this coming summer. So far, the progress was minimal, and you were now shopping for cute, covered one pieces you could flounce in around the pool.

“So, Y/N, you going to any parties tonight?” Taehyung asked, announcing himself at the top of your cubicle by his question. You glanced over at him, smiling even though the Joy pill was waning.

“I might go to a Hot Bar later. My friend owns one close to my house,” you replied, turning back to scroll through the swim suit collections.

“Oooh,” Taehyung whistled low through his teeth. “What are you getting?”

“Patience, so I’ll be able to withstand work this up coming week,” you lied.

“I heard Patience doesn’t last very long,” Taehyung said, more to himself then to you. You ignored his comment, casting him one last smile as the buzzer sounded to return to work. You were distracted during work, however, thinking of your upcoming trip to the Hot Bar, and the new Ez’s that would be shelved soon.

The Hot Bars had always been a thing, although they didn’t always sell Ez’s. Ever since the invention of the Ez’s, however, the Hot Bars began popping up everywhere, seemingly on every street corner ever since Woo Jiho had inherited his father’s company, and made the family dream a reality.

His parents had been pharmacists, met and fallen in love during school. They’d made their fortune, and given the Woo name a spot in history books, when they’d developed the first hypersensitive vitamin supplements that enhanced certain emotions within the human body, and thus blocking out everything else but that feeling. However, that was back in your parents’ early years. Now, you had the real thing.

Jiho had found a way, with the help of some cutting edge scientists now known as the Red Tigers, to harness real human emotions, bottle them up, and make ten thousand dollars every second off them. After that, he went down in history as the world’s wealthiest man. And of course, everyone knew how he was getting the emotions, but as long as you stayed rich and kept your ratings up, you could forget about what exactly one vial of the Ez you just shot back actually cost.

Jiho, now, owned most of the nation. And in cahoots with him, due to the risk of losing her position if she wasn’t, was the President herself. You all knew who the real ruler of the nation was, but everyone let the President keep her chair and make her daily addresses as if Jiho wasn’t actually running the show.

During the last hour of work, as you were watching the clock count down instead of really doing anything, you and Taehyung were assigned a joint project by the head of your department. Taehyung, therefore, evaporated the partition between the two of you so you could work together.

“So, I say we work as hard as possible so that we can get the hell out of here. I’m itching to get to this party tonight,” Taehyung said, not looking at you as he typed away on his computer. You glanced over at him, astonished that the boy was going to yet another party.

“Do you ever sleep?” You asked, outlining your half of the project in a document. Taehyung’s document popped up on your screen a second letter, seemingly typing itself as he controlled it from his screen.

“Hmmm… I guess sometimes I do.” You could hear the smirk in his voice without even having to turn your head.

“What do you think about these new Ez, Tae?” you asked after a few moments of silent working passed.

Taehyung didn’t answer for a second. You would have assumed it was because he was finishing a thought on his document, but all typing had paused from his side of the screen. Finally, he leaned his chin into the palm of his hand and concentrated his entire focus on you. “Why do you want my opinion on them, Y/N?”

“I was just curious. I heard they have eleven new Ez’s coming out. And Innocence? Where, in the world, do you think they got innocence from? I just can’t believe how far Jiho has come with this industry; it’s truly amazing,” you gushed, glancing back at Taehyung. For a second, a shadow flashed across his face, making it seem as though he was scowling something fierce. But, the trick of the light was gone almost as quick as it’d come, and Taehyung was back to his normal, grinning self. You shook your head slightly, wondering if you were having some weird side effects from the Joy.

“It really is something,” Taehyung murmured, his attention coming back to his screen. From his document on your computer, you saw he had resumed his typing. “I’m very interested to try them out at my next party.”

You were about to reply to him, but suddenly the buzzer to end the work day was sounding, and Taehyung was quickly packing away his things. He furiously tore out of the office space, not even bothering to bid you adieu. He must be really eager to get to that party, you thought to yourself, and shrugged. No matter how friendly you and Taehyung were at work, what he did outside of the office was none of your business, and you didn’t give him a second thought as you walked out to your module and gave it the directions to Jimin’s Hot Bar.

Queen of Hearts, as Jimin had named it, was one of the most popular Hot Bars in the neighborhood. The flashing, neon red sign lit up the evening sky, beckoning to those weary and looking for their evening fix. Which, you realized with a frown, would be just about everyone at this time: rush hour. Quickly, you headed into the dimly lit lounge, spotting an empty stool at the fluorescently lit bar.

You dove for the seat upon your arrival, fighting through the quickly growing crowd. And to meet you in your aghast state was your best friend, smiling a broad eye smile as he cleaned a glass with a pearly white dish towel.

“Hi,” you squeaked, just as a group of rowdy young boys in suits and loosed ties pressed into your back, gesturing fiercely to Jimin.

“Hold that thought,” Jimin cheekily said to you, taking the group’s orders quickly and pouring them shot glasses of multiple, brightly colored liquids found in neat arrays of bottles on the backlit shelves behind him. Jimin was still smiling when he came back over to you. “What can I get ‘ya?”

“Just a tonic water for right now. I need some time to decompress,” you groaned, stretching out your aching calves under the bar. You were in love with these new pumps you’d bought for spring, but after multiple wears, they proved to hurt your feet no less than the first time you’d worn them to work.

“Long day at work?” Jimin asked, filling a glass with ice and tonic water from the hose under the bar. He garnished the drink with a lime slice and then passed it over to you.

“The longest,” you complained, although you realized you in no way wanted to talk for one more second about the office or anything associated to it. Instead, you changed the subject. “How’s the bar life?”

Jimin flicked a few strands of flaming orange hair out of his face before replying. “I’ve been pretty busy today. I’m sure you know by now about the new shipment of Ez’s coming through this week. And all the major Hot Bars, like mine, get them first. They’re coming in by the truckload, but I can’t start shelving them until next week.”

“Oh, big shot Hot Bars like yours?” You mused, taking a stoic sip of your drink. Jimin flushed and rolled his eyes at you, trying to cover his blush. “No, I completely understand Mr. Big Shot. How do you ever have time for a lowly electricity supplier such as myself?”

“Oh, come off it, Y/N. I was… I was just…” Jimin spluttered, causing you to laugh even more.

“I’m just fucking with you, Jimin. Queen of Hearts is the best Hot Bar in D Block, everyone knows that.” You glanced around, unnerved to find that people were still piling into the bar. Musingly, more to yourself than to Jimin, you spoke again. “It’s busy in here tonight.”

“They’re discontinuing Happiness.” You heard Jimin say. You whirled back around to him, astonishment causing your mouth to fall wide.

“Wh…why would they do that? Happiness was ZICO’s first Ez. It’s their best seller,” you gasped, wondering how the discontinuation of the most popular Ez was going to affect this market. Jiho and all his associates at ZICO must be really taking chances, or really know what they’re doing.

“They’re now putting out the Happy Volumes. It’s in four different parts, so now you’re not just boringly Happy. You can have any spectrum of Happiness, depending on how good you want it to be. Something to do with the concentrations of the Happiness per liter,” Jimin replied.

You plucked the lime from your now liquid free glass, sucking on the pulpous innards thoughtfully. “What are they?”

“The Volumes?” Jimin raised an orange eyebrow. “Cheer, Glee, Jubilance, and Euphoria.”

“Wow, Euphoria…” you trailed off. “That must be some strong Happiness, huh?”

“I guess so,” Jimin mused back, cleaning a couple more glasses before saying anything else. “But you’re not here to help me sell out of my supply of Happiness, are you?”

“So what if I am?” You asked, discarding the hallowed out lime rind beside your glass. Jimin raised his eyebrow again, obviously humored by your feigned innocence. He cleared your empty water glass away, took a couple’s order on the other side of the bar, and then came back to stand in front of you.

“So… what will it be, ma’lady?”

“Can I have an Ecstasy?” You asked tenderly, as you did every time you ordered one. You weren’t shy about ordering most Ez’s, but having Jimin know that you were drinking this Ez, one that would make you feel so vulnerable, even for only a few hours, had you borderline blushing.

“Namjoon must be coming over tonight, hmm?” Jimin smirked, but reached behind him to grab the bottle of neon blue liquid anyway.

You nodded tenderly as he set the shot glass before you, and then filled it up just slightly past the normal shot line. You smiled thankfully at your friend, but didn’t down the shot just yet. Instead, you chose to run your fingers through the water droplets your tonic glass had left behind, creating long streaks of dampness in their path. Jimin watched you for a second before piping up again.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, nodding at the girl who’d just waved him down. He poured her a shot of plumb colored Bliss, and then awaited your reply.

“It’s just my ratings,” you sighed, twirling your shot glass between your hands, but not taking a sip. You wouldn’t drink the shot until just before you were leaving.

“What about your ratings? They’re really good. You’re not in danger of getting –” Jimin began, but you cut him off harshly.

“No, I’m not.” You realized you had snapped out your reply, and tried to tone your voice down. “It’s just, how does Taehyung do it? I’ve never met another 9.7 in my life. Of course, celebrities and everything have just about a 10, but Kim Taehyung? He’s such a player, I can’t believe his jealous ex’s don’t send is ratings into the dirt.”

“Ah, I see. You’re jealous,” Jimin laughed. You glared up at your best friend. Glancing down at your watch, you were surprised to see that you’d spent a lot longer in Queen of Hearts then you’d meant to; Namjoon would be arriving at your house soon.

“I have to go, Jimin,” you said, grabbing up the glass of Ecstasy and swallowing it whole as you threw your head back. You slammed the shot glass down on the bar, your bright turquoise lipstick leaving a ring around the glass almost as iridescent as the liquid that had just inhabited it.

“Come on, Y/N, you know I was just kidding!” Jimin called after you as you grabbed your bag and began to pay for the shot with your handheld. “It’s on the house, Y/N.”

“I know you were kidding Jimin. We can talk about me paying for the shot later. I have to go, or Namjoon is going to show up at my house without me being there. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

Jimin waved you away with a sweet smile, one you forced to return as you hurriedly exited the building. You began to make the short walk to your apartment, choosing instead to walk the few blocks instead of driving your module; it could stay in Jimin’s parking deck until the next morning.

You were already feeling the effects of the Ecstasy coursing through your system, filling you slowly like a small flame growing into a roaring fire. You were suddenly starting to break out in a light sweat, even though the night was quite cool.

Almost out of no where, a group of dark, shadowy figures showed up in your path, walking towards you brusquely. The Ecstasy made it hard to feel anything but a warmth glowing deep inside you, although you know you should probably feel frightened of the figures coming towards you.

As they approached, you could make out that there were four of them, and then suddenly the emblazoned dragon on their jackets drew your attention. You gasped, knowing full well who they were.

If the Red Tigers were Woo Jiho’s brains, the Black Dragons were his brawn. They roamed the streets, picking up people whose ratings were too low and making sure the city was safe. You knew they were simply here for your protection, and yet something about the feral way they walked caused gooseflesh to break out on your sweaty skin.

As they passed, the leader stared down at you. You knew his name, everyone did: Jaehyo. He ran the entirety of the Black Dragons, and he was just as fierce as his face was beautiful. Your eyes met his, holding his gaze steadily. You knew it was the Ecstasy side effects, but you couldn’t help feel a warm rush of excitement as Jaehyo’s gaze pierced you, the rest of his group just bodies filling the space behind him. You hadn’t realized you’d stopped walking until he was towering over you, glaring.

“Rating?” he growled. Your head felt light, but you put as much force into answering him as possible.

“8..8.6,” you stuttered, and heard a giggle from behind Jaehyo. He held out his hand, not saying anything else. Scrambling, you grabbed your handheld and pulled up your identification card that showed your rating and a copy of your thumbprint. Jaehyo snatched it from you and scrutinized it carefully, glancing over the photo of you on the identification card, and then giving your body a quick once over to make sure it matched.

He handed it back forcefully, not giving you enough time to say anything more before he was turning his back and quickly making his way down the pavement, his crowd following close behind. You noticed, even through the Ecstasy’s haze, that the one with the face tattoo was twirling a knife around in his hands and laughing manically.

Shuddering, you continued your pace home, making sure not to stop for anymore intrusions until you were safely tucked behind your locked door. Only moments after you’d slipped down the wood, breathing hard, was a knock ringing out over your house. Namjoon.

You scrambled to your feet and unlocked the door quickly, tugging Namjoon inside before bolting it back again. You turned to him sharply, a look of slight concern clouding his face. But there was something else, something deep and dark in his eyes tonight, shown in full force by the fact that his pink colored hair was pushed away from his face with a purple bandana. You let yourself heave a few more times, and then explained that you’d run into the Black Dragons on your way home from work.

“Well, your rating is fine, so what’s the problem? They’re just keeping us all safe,” Namjoon replied. You narrowed your eyes, because there it was again. The slight annoyance in his face.

“What did you take?” You ask, beckoning him to follow you through the house and towards your bedroom.

“Lust,” he all but growled, and your blood began to boil. You’d never taken a Lust before, and the hell-bent, dark way Namjoon was looking at your back as you walked made you even less likely to try one in the future.

You’d barely reached your room before Namjoon was grabbing onto your sides, slamming your back into the wall and crushing his lips against yours. Your gasp of surprise made it easy for him to slip his tongue between your teeth and coax at your own, smoothing over it roughly.

You moaned lowly in your throat, the Ecstasy making your nerve endings sing with even Namjoon’s slightest touch.

Namjoon’s groan was a low moan in the back of his throat, the chords of his muscles in his arm strung tight. You raked your hands through his pink hair, grabbing onto the purple bandana he was wearing and tossed it to the floor. He tugged sharply at the glittery pins in your hair, and suddenly it was tumbling down from its bun as he continued pressing chaste, hurried kisses on your lips.

Namjoon pulled you up so that you were straddling his waist, balancing a little ungracefully between his waist and the wall your back was against. You held onto his cheeks, to not only keep his lips pressed deliciously to yours, but also to hold yourself in place as he continued ravishing your body, one hand trailing all over your skin and the other balancing the two of you against the dry wall.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Namjoon moaned, his tongue flecking against the backs of your teeth. A soft gasp escaped your lips. You pulled your mouth away slightly, trailing kisses from the corner of Namjoon’s mouth around his jawline and back again.

He suddenly dropped you back to your feet, ripping away your layers of clothes quickly. He was naked before you could bat an eyelash, his erection hard and throbbing against his stomach. You reached out to grasp him in your hand; you wanted to feel the way his length pulsed in your hand.

Namjoon stopped you, grasping your first fiercely and shoving you, face first, against the wall once more. He spit in his hand, then ran his fingers over your folds roughly, causing you to omit a soft groan. He pulled his hand away too quickly, leaving your core quivering in excitement.

“What, no foreplay?” You barely gasped, trying to get a teasing tone in your voice. Instead, you simply sounded breathless and needed.

“Later,” Namjoon said, now teasing your clit with the tip of his leaking cock. Your stomach was aching for him to fill you up: you needed to feel his walls stretching you open, fucking into you.

His first thrust was half-hearted, teasing. You groaned loudly, trying to encourage him to follow through. His pause after his tip entered and exited you shallowly felt like a lifetime. The Ecstasy was making your whole body feel hot and jittery: you just needed to feel something.

“Namjoon… pleas-” he cut your voice off, his cock suddenly thrusting into you completely. He was seated inside you, hilt deep, the blissful stretch of his pulsating cock causing you to throw your head back against his shoulder.

He placed his arms on either side of your head, caging you into the wall as he began thrusting. The sounds of his hips slapping against yours filled the room, mixing in with the forceful grunts he was making. You placed your forehead against the cool wall, concentrating on the way he was hitting inside of you just right, the way his cock made your toes curl and your stomach tie in knots.

“Fuck, Y/N, baby. You feel so fucking good,” Namjoon gasped in your ear, licking the shell of it. You whimpered back in response, not able to focus right as Namjoon kept his steady, brutally fast pace.

A sob broke from your lips as the knots in your stomach kept tightening. Your heart was racing, and every single fiber in your body felt like it was close to exploding. You were inching towards your high, and Namjoon was moaning low in your ear as he continued pounding into you, his pace fast and sharp.

“Namjoon!” you cried, your mind starting to become fuzzy. “Please, Namjoon Namjoon Namjoonnamjoonnamjoon…”

His name became your mantra, his cock pounding into you at just the right angle to make you see stars. And then, suddenly, just as you were right there, your orgasm so close you could taste it, Namjoon was pulling out.

“No!” you cried, turning around in his arms and trying to force him back into you. Instead, he just smirked, grabbing your arm and leading you towards the bed. The Lust in Namjoon’s system caused his eyes to darken; his pupils blasted wide. You swallow hard. Something about that animalistic look, it was completely raw and feral.

Namjoon had never taken a Lust before, at least not when he’d been with you, and the looks he was giving you now was making your belly tighten up all over again. You liked the way he was breathing heavy, sweat droplets cascading down his bare chest. He was looking at you like a hunter looks at its prey: ready for the kill.

“You can’t cum just yet, baby,” Namjoon rasped, his voice coming out rough and raspy. You involuntarily shivered at this unspoken promise: this wouldn’t be just a quickie. Namjoon tugged you towards the bed, the two of you tumbling into the sheets in a mixture of limbs and mouths.

Namjoon dove in between your legs, his tongue leaving hot trails along your inner thighs. He clamped your legs apart between his hands, holding you wide before him; his mouth seemingly watered as he gazed at your exposed core. The tip of his tongue emerged, swiping furiously over his bottom lip before he lowered his head and teased your clit with his mouth.

You cried out, your knuckles grabbing the sheets until they turned white. Your head was thrown back, your mouth forming a perfect “O” as Namjoon and the Ecstasy caused your heart and body to sing.

#kpop #kpop fics #bts #bfs fics #bfs scenario #bfs scenarios #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook fic #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #min yoongi #future au #black mirror au #namjoon smut

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frostedkookie · 7 years

Text

Greek Gods AU || Part 2 || Seokjin

pt.1 | pt.2

Words: 1566

Genre: Greek gods AU, some sexual innuendos

Summary: “O Dionysus, we feel you near, stirring like molten lava under the ravaged earth, flowing from the wounds of your trees in tears of sap, screaming with the rage of your hunted beasts.” - Euripides

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Yoongi blinked open his eyes, a layer of crust making the lids hard to wrench apart. Just as he suspected, the pills didn’t work; they never worked. His mouth felt as though it had been stuffed full of cotton and his head was slightly, faintly pounding.

Yoongi couldn’t die.

He was surrounded by so much death, every day since his existence began, and yet he would never get to experience the same thing. There would be no one to upkeep the underworld if he left; no one wanted to travel there alive, much less be there for the rest of eternity.

That’s why Yoongi came to the hotel, especially when she left for the Spring. He wasn’t sure who’d build the hotel, or who’s idea it was, but as long as he could remember, it had been there for any of the gods to come to.

Suddenly, a woman started screaming from the corner of his room. Yoongi jumped only slightly; he would never be used to lost souls coming to find him instead of making their way to his realm’s gates instead. He cast her away, blood oozing from her nearly transparent head but never dripping to the floor.

When she was gone, Yoongi was left alone once more to his own thoughts and despairs. As he placed another orange pill into his mouth to try again – he’d try again all Spring until she came back – the faint taste of wine prickled his taste buds.

The hard drywall dug into the vertebrae in Seokjin’s spine, causing the bones to crunch together. A lone disco ball cast the room in gloomy, uplifting shadows. He felt sticky all over; his skin had been covered in sweat, and then it dried.

None of that concerned Seokjin, though. What concerned him was the tattered pieces of flowers petals that coated the rug at his feet. Seokjin preferred staying at the hotel, and he’d brought the rug in almost 30 years ago. It was starting to blend in to the dirty carpet, with only the faint tinges of red showing. He was sure he’d had sex on this rug before, although now he couldn’t remember for certain.

The rug didn’t matter to him, though. It was the petals sprinkled over the flowers that caused him great despair. He’d brought the flowers in too, although much sooner than the rug. A lily, that’s what it used to be. Now it was just the shattered, ripped pieces of the flower it used to be.

Seokjin held one of the pieces in his hand, moving the velvet between his fingers. The flower was soft, flowing along the pads of his fingers like woven silk. He leaned his head against the wall, eyes closed as his fingers moved over the petal. It felt as silken as the supple skin of a breast, a nipple caressed gently between his fingers.

He sighed gently, his eyes peeling back open. The flower’s serene feeling between his thumb and forefinger seemed to die in his grasp; the gentle force of the fact was, the flower was broken, and Seokjin couldn’t fix it.

He remembered, vividly, the moment his precious flowers were crushed. He’d watched the lilies fall under the calloused pads of bare feet, nails buffed into a glistening shine. The flowers had seemed to make a small sigh, a sad gasp of death, as they found their end.

A tear trickled down Seokjin’s cheek, and nestled itself in the crevice of his plump lips. It tasted of sea salt, of earth and captivating ecstasy. His lips were chapped, the dry skin peeling slowly up around the edges in sporadic patches.

The party he’d had – the party that brought about the end to his lily – had ended itself merely an hour before. Yet, here Seokjin continued to sit, basking in the aftermath of sex and wine. He could smell the pheromones in the air, mixing with the sweet scent of vinegary grapes.

The room cast a warmth glow over Seokjin’s skin, and yet he felt dark. He stared at the bed in front of him, the sheets rumpled and vaguely damp. A couple had frolicked in them only hours before, at his encouragement. He’d watched their bodies intertwine, their tongues forking a path towards the other’s mouth. He’d fixated on the small, burgundy droplets of wine that trickled down their bodies as they’d drank the liquid and continued drinking in each other.

Seokjin felt hallow just by reminiscing the room full of people. Sometimes he used these people to give him strength, to take his mind away from reality. However, when the dream faded and the bodies disappeared, Seokjin’s body exposed the empty cavity beneath; he was nothing.

The hotel, the god’s place, was where he came to escape those duties. He’d invite crowds of people, stuff them into room 307, and watch has their clothes peeled away and his bottles of wine disappeared one by one.

Seokjin never drank. Maybe it was because he’d always be able to taste the wine, no matter where he was. Harvest was the worst, when the essence of the crops and the grapes bubbled up into the back of his throat like a bad memory. He came to the hotel during the harvest to leave it all behind.

Thunder rolled outside his window, the shades drawn shut tight. He knew he was being called, he knew runaway gods were always punished. Unless, of course, they stayed run away. Which was exactly what Seokjin planned to do: keep intertwining others in his hotel room until the end of time, and then after. It was his escape from reality, after all.

Seokjin was dreaming. He only saw the lilies in his dreams: in wine induced comas heightened by an array of modern and ancient medicines to place him in the happiest of saddnesses. While he was pretending to huddle on the floor of his hotel room, he was actually lying in his unkempt bed, the sheets tousled around himself instead of other people.

What Seokjin wanted more than anything was to return to his dreams, his visions of simplistic triumphs. However, the thunder was roiling, and Seokjin knew he was very near to waking. His dreams always became troubling when he was about to awake: the broken lilies were beckoning for him to open his eyes and breathe a taste of reality.

When his mind finally jolted, abruptly, Seokjin’s body followed. His eyes peeled open, the iris scratchy from years of being unused. A god’s time is his own, Seokjin’s hallowed mind thought. There was a pregnant pause in the air, the chill of static so coppery it was like tasting blood. The thunder rolled again, this time streaking the skies in spurts of lightening.

Seokjin hated his own body, hated the way the porcelain of his skin showed the maps of his blue veins underneath like the roadways to heaven. His tongue peeked between his lips, dousing them after years of being dormant. The last thing Seokjin wanted, besides to be awake, was to face his own self.

The mirror hanging dingily on the wall of 307 cleared things up for him quickly – Seokjin hadn’t aged once during his sleep. Instead, he was simply the same as when he’d gone to sleep. He hadn’t lost weight, and certainly hadn’t gained weight either. He’s hair was the same mousy brown; his eyes always tinged with the redness of a drunkard.

He wanted to go back to sleep; he wanted to forget himself. He couldn’t face himself, not yet. He didn’t want to face the unhappiness that came with this world. Seokjin, unabashedly, wished he could curse all those that cursed him with this realm: it was the realm of emptiness. It wasn’t empty like the underworld, that was filled to the brim with damned souls. No, this emptiness that he controlled was hallow, a pitch black void that disguised itself as happiness, ecstasy, and then cast a misery on its followers so despairing, so black, that the soul ate itself instead of dealing with its numb existence. It was a ritual madness of the worst kind.

Seokjin cried softly as he peeled himself away from his bedsheets, this joints popping only slightly as his feet hit the floor and supported his weight.

Who am I? Seokjin asked the ghastly figure in the mirror, but the man behind it stood still, frightened. He was ready to face the harvest: this was his fate. Blood gushed through his veins, the blue streaks popping forth in his arms. He sunk his teeth into his plump lips; he heard the wheat calling to him like a forlorn lover. The crops were out, and so were the sinners.

Seokjin’s feet stayed bare as they trekked over the plush red carpet: the carpet he wished he was still perching on in his dreams. His feet carried him, instead, closer to the door. Closer to a duty he fulfilled year by year, season by season. His heart weighed heavy.

When he reached the small table by the door, the lily wrapped its petals around his arm gently: one last silent plea to not go – don’t do this.

Seokjin plucked one of the virginal petals from the stalk, rubbing it gently between his fingers as he pulled the door of 307 shut behind him.

Spring was calling; Seokjin was answering.