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winedarkthoughts · 5 months

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house of addams (1)

— 🌖 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

— 🕷️ genre: mystery, angst + fluff + smut

— 🗝️ word count: 4.3k

— 🍄 summary: hired to look into the mysterious deaths, disappearances, and disturbances in the small town of Farrow's End, you soon meet a certain gang of oddballs who help you connect the dots. and NO, you are NOT taking a liking to them.

— ☕ content warnings: private investigator!reader, cozy small town mystery/addams family vibes, botanist!yoongi, magical absurdity, bookshop owner!namjoon, barista!jin

— 🕸️ a/n: first chapter! directly influenced by this fic on ao3 by tinyratthief, which is loosely based on the addams family.

series m.list/schedule → next chapter

chpt. 1: new digs

september 16, 2004

If this job has taught you one thing, it’s that the laws of truth can and will be bent by anyone with enough concentrated effort. People come to you to find very specific truths; birth parents, cheating spouses, the details of shady business deals.

But if this job has taught you one thing, it's that the truth will also reveal itself to anyone with enough concentrated effort.

Though, there's always a handful of cases that force you to delve deep into things you’d rather leave buried. Like the person in Oregon who didn't show up in any photographs. Or the small town in Maryland with the strange, centuries-old secret society.

You’ve seen sides of human nature that have left you cynical, distrusting. Some have called you “dead inside,” but you’re not here to brag. Naturally, you are excellent at your job.

And when the Mayor of Farrow’s End, a sleepy town with enough missing persons cases to warrant a Netflix documentary, contacted you about a possible case, you accepted almost instantly.

Even her first correspondence and initial offer were strange. She stated a preference to discuss the finer details in person and in person only, which to you immediately suggested that the entire investigation would be a matter of confidentiality.

You were proven right when you met with her a week later. And while being proven right is usually one of your favorite things, you didn’t exactly expect this.

The offer: investigative services regarding (but not limited to) local missing persons/homicides, ecological disturbances, environmental chemical imbalances. etc.

In exchange for: monthly salary, rent support, covered business expenses.

And above all, everything must remain off the books.

The salary along with the rent support is very generous considering what you're used to, but you don’t tell the Mayor that. You do inform her that, while you wear many hats, you are not an ecologist, nor a chemist.

Mayor Summerbee, a middle-aged Asian woman with a sweet smile and even warmer eyes, informs you that you will have access to the local University’s college of natural sciences. She gives you the contact information for one Min Yoongi, a botanist who works in the school's research department.

Then she gives you the contact information for one Kim Taehyung, the town coroner and pathologist. Apparently, both of them will be available for consultation.

She is eager, maybe even desperate, smiling at you with an urgent sheen in her eyes.

When you accept her offer, shaking her hand with your usual firm grip, she seems to exhale in relief.

You move to Farrow’s End by the end of the week. It’s not as if you have much to move, just a trunkful of books and a handful of duffel bags. You’ve always moved around for work, and even if you didn’t, staying in one place for too long makes you nervous.

Your bags hit the pavement beside your boots as you survey your new home. It's a small, quaint house. The paint is faded but the architectural structure is sturdy. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, kitchen, living room. The whole place is in a slight state of disrepair, but you can't complain.

You spend the next day cleaning and unpacking, which doesn't take long since you leave most of your books in the trunk. You're exploring the town by the end of the afternoon.

The town square, though full of shops and businesses, is nearly barren. A few civilians putter around, their faces weathered and reflective of the gloom in the air. They stare at you as you pass by, a cocktail of curiosity and slight suspicion.

The next thing you notice is the posters. They're everywhere, on the crumbling brick walls, stuck on lampposts, taped to the windows, all displaying a variety of subjects. Events at the University, local night markets, antiques for sale.

But there are a few that stick out. THERE'S SOMETHING IN THE LAKE! Sign the petition to restrict land access →

HAVING STRANGE DREAMS? You're not alone, contact a psychic today!

BEWARE! DO NOT FEED LOCAL WILDLIFE.

Though, what's more strange to you is what you don't see. There are barely any missing person posters, and the few that you do see appear to have been ripped away.

Work begins now, you think to yourself as you snap some photos of several posters, flapping in the cold wind.

You pop into the general store to pick up some essentials, and the store clerk immediately recognizes that you're not a local.

He asks where you're from, you reply with the standard answer: a city not too far but not too close. He asks what you're doing here, you reply with the standard answer: you're a journalist. You add in the suggestion that you're working with the University about a story, and he doesn't question any further.

You're not sure if it's because he takes the hint or because he loses interest.

During the drive home, you notice something looming in the distance. Atop the highest hill is a dark house, with spires and towers rising from the tops of spindly trees. Even from here, you can see that the architecture is old and ornate, almost ancient in a hypnotic way. You're fairly certain you can see a murder of crows circling above.

An unusual feeling hangs around the house, like there's some kind of aura surrounding it. Welcoming some, yet blocking others.

Very strange indeed.

You spend the rest of the night huddled next to the fireplace, using the flickering orange light to skim over newspaper clippings.

No, the house does not have a heating system. But you don't mind too much, you have plenty of wood and warm clothes.

Five missing and three dead in the last year. Local law enforcement has done everything they could with what they had to work with, which apparently wasn't much. Scattered locations, no visible connection between the victims, and an alarming lack of evidence.

Eyelids heavy, you leave the papers scattered across the floor and head to bed, already looking forward to tomorrow's first coffee.

september 17, 2004

The University appears to be just as old as the rest of the town. Original wood, aged stone, curved iron accents. The brick walkway is slick with morning rain, and the sky is swirling with fog.

Perfect weather, it makes you ready to get to work.

The directory stated that Min Yoongi would be in Montgomery Hall, the natural sciences building, either in the greenhouse or in one of the labs, according to the TA you talked to earlier on the phone.

It takes some wandering, but what you like about this place is that people don't seem to notice your presence as much as they do in town. Out there, you're an easily identifiable outsider. Here, you're just another passerby with a purpose.

You find him in one of the lab rooms, tucked into a little nook that's encased with plastic sheeting, dotted with beads of moisture. The small space is crowded with greenery, big pots of tall plants with fanning leaves, draping vines from wall planters, seedlings in little trays.

Through the condensation dripping down the plastic walls, you can see that he's spraying the plants down with water, wearing a classic white coat.

You're indulging in your bad habit again. Your footsteps are notoriously quiet (you've been told), and you (apparently) have a tendency to sneak up on people and observe them for several minutes before they notice that you are there.

But it's a skill you delight in.

The man is of average height, thin, black hair, delicate features. You notice that the soles of his boots are caked with mud, and his skin is dewy from the humidifiers pumping moisture into the room.

"You already know my opinion on this," you hear him say, muffled by the spray of the water.

For a moment, you think he's talking to you, that he's rejecting your case before you've even presented it to him. But he isn't facing you, and his tone is decidedly casual, like he's talking to an old friend.

"It's bad for the others, anyway," he continues. "Don't wiggle your trigger hairs at me like that."

A pause, the water flow stops. Then a sigh of defeat.

"Fine, one puff. Then you quit pouting, got it?"

There's the sound of shuffling, then the fwick of a lighter being ignited.

Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you step forward to peer through the slit in the plastic sheeting.

There's a Venus fly trap on one of the shelves, and between the jaws of one of the trap mouths, is a lit cigarette.

The man's head piques up when you enter his field of vision. Eyes widening, he looks like a cat that's been caught off guard.

He looks between you and the plant several times. You're fairly certain you see the tip of the cigarette glow ember, as if the plant were actually inhaling.

The man snatches the cigarette away and crushes it beneath the wet sole of his boot.

"Nasty habit," he finally says with a nervous chuckle. An awkward, straight-mouthed smile crosses his face, making his cheeks puff out slightly.

"Min Yoongi?" you ask.

"Yes, ma'am," he responds politely.

"I'm ______," you say, holding out a hand to shake.

He shuffles forward, his cold slim fingers meeting yours.

"Ah, the mayor mentioned that you'd be around."

That throws you a bit, because from what you've gathered about this case, you assumed that the mayor didn't want to be associated with it.

"Yes, would you mind filling me in on some of the ecological disturbances that have been going on in town?"

It's as if the question sends ants crawling down his spine. His neutral smile dissipates into an anxious twitch of his lips. He turns the hose back on and resumes spritzing the plants.

"What do you want to know?" he asks, a new tension in his voice.

Odd.

"Well," you start, "The mayor tells me that locals have been complaining about strange mushrooms invading their yards, increased acidity in their soil. Would you know anything about that?"

His eyebrows are knitted as he dampens the leaves of a spiraling fern.

"Mushrooms are really just the fruit of fungi, they bloom like flowers when the conditions are just right. Moisture, shade, an abundance of organic material, stuff like that. When it comes to the acidity, there's a variety of factors. All the rainfall recently leads to leaching, and the increased use of fertilizers causes nitrification. It's pretty standard."

You raise an eyebrow. He's deflecting.

"People have been saying that these mushrooms have been particularly hard to get rid of."

Yoongi 's brows furrow as if he's thinking hard.

"Fungi are tricky like that. We don't know much about them, really. They're their own class of life form. It could be a particularly stubborn strain."

"There's also been some unusual plant growth, creeping vines or the like. Very resistant to herbicides, apparently."

He pauses, considers it.

"Hmm," he mutters, the nozzle of the hose going lax in his hand.

“Also,” you continue, trying to further engage his curiosity. “There's been several cases of strange root rot?”

You add a questioning tone to your voice, gauging his reaction. Apparently, he hasn’t heard about it, because he looks up at you with the same question in his eyes.

“Root rot? In household plants?” he asks.

“No, in residencies.”

Yoongi stares at you for a moment, and you can tell he’s intrigued.

“I would benefit a lot from your knowledge, if I could just bring you a few samples, maybe go out and do some fieldwork—”

“You wouldn’t like working with me,” Yoongi interrupts. “I’m very…particular.”

You have a feeling the word is meant as a substitute for something else.

“Wonderful, so am I,” you reply, digging one of the many notebooks out of your bag. Flipping to the calendar, you click open your open your pen and start scribbling.

“Mornings are best, get the most out of the daylight. Make sure to bring your equipment and something to write on, and a camera if you have one.”

“Wait, I just don’t know if I’m going to be much use to you,” Yoongi says a little nervously, sticking his hands in his pockets.

You pause your scribbling to look at him. He’s pale in the fluorescent light, but not just physically. He has pale mannerisms and pale expressions, the countenance of a person that doesn’t feel as if they belong.

You know the feeling well.

“Coffee is always on me. How do you like it?” you say instead.

“Does Wednesday work?”

september 18, 2004

Three dead and five missing in less than six months. First, Michael Bradley, aged forty-two. Cause of death: chronic poisoning/exposure to toxic chemicals. He was found in his garage surrounded by household cleaners and herbicides. Apparently he’d been trying to get rid of the same strange mushrooms in his yard.

For now, all you have to work with is what they’ve published in the newspapers, and it seems that all that's come out of it is a public service announcement warning homeowners to be careful around toxic chemicals. His wife, Mary Bradley, hasn't commented on the circumstances of her husband’s death. And no one else has inquired any further into the matter.

Until today, obviously. Mrs. Bradley didn't answer her phone, and when you knocked on her door earlier this morning, she seemed less than pleased.

You opened with the standard introduction: I'm a journalist working on a story, would you mind consenting to an interview? Mrs. Bradley narrowed her eyes and scanned you up and down with barely concealed suspicion.

She asked what a journalist would find interesting about a common, accidental death in a small town. Apparently, the citizens of Farrow's End are very perceptive to outsiders.

You mentioned that fact that although Bradley's death appeared accidental, it's not common for people to die at the hands of household chemicals from prolonged exposure. Chronic poisoning is rarely without symptoms, why didn't he go to hospital?

She didn't have anything to say to that. You asked if she'd be comfortable divulging some of the details of his death, maybe even giving you access to the autopsy report. But she just grimaced at the mention, insisting that she had nothing to say about the matter and that you should leave right away.

She slammed the door in your face, but luckily it wasn't the first time people have resisted your questions. Unfortunately, a significant part of your job involves being a pain in the ass.

You linger in the front yard, where it's impossible not to notice the gnarled tree stumps and large rings of mushrooms scattered across the lawn.

You're not a mycologist by any means, but even you can tell that these mushrooms are strange. They seem to be multicolored, red and orange and brown, changing depending on the light like a hologram, but without any of the shine. They aren't bulb-shaped like many other mushrooms, but twist in tendrils this way and that, stretching.

And a smell hangs about them. You can't really describe it, something like damp and musk and old meat. Standing there, breathing them in, for too long makes your head spin.

And the trees, or rather, what's left of them. Nothing but stumps now, but you can tell that they were old when they were cut down. There's that same multi-colored effect to them, except it runs in veins throughout the tree's bark, spiraling into the rings.

You'll have to ask Yoongi about it.

Curiosity nips at you like a non-venomous snake even after you're home. It's not deadly, but it sure as hell is annoying.

What kind of disease infects fungi and trees? Why would the mayor care about privately investigating such a thing? And a thousand other questions.

You shove your boots on and enter back into the chill. You remember seeing a bookstore in town.

The Magic Shop: Books and Oddities

The front window glows with warm light, crowded with displayed volumes and curiosities (a stuffed raven, a jar of yellowing teeth, insects encased in amber).

The door swings open with the ring of a bell. Someone calls out "Welcome in," in a deep-velvet voice.

The smell of parchment and aged leather envelopes you like a familiar hug. You can't help pausing in the doorway and inhaling deeply. No matter what city you're in, places like this always feel like home.

It's everything that a bookstore should be: crowded, mysterious, and slightly dusty. The shelves are tightly grouped and arranged like a labyrinth few are privy to, and stacks—no, towers—of books occupy every corner.

You enter into the space, feet padding on the braided rugs, eyes drinking in the details. There are labels on the shelves, haphazardly spaced. They start normal enough: gardening, self-help, adventure.

But then you realize that they branch off into even more labels, or rather sub-labels. There's nocturnal gardening, gardening under the influence, Faerie gardens and goblin gardens. Each labeled sub-genre branches into even more specific sub-categories, creating a seemingly endless array of subjects.

You could explore this place for hours. In fact, you intend to over the course of your stay in Farrow's End.

You spend an indeterminate amount of time exploring all the labels and categories. The shelves twist this way and that, creating little nooks where the occasional armchair is tucked into.

Eventually, you come to a more open area with a wide-sprawling desk. The man sitting behind it is tall and tan, glasses perched on his nose, with short chestnut hair that shifts golden in the candlelight.

He's deeply focused on the book in his hands: A Comprehensive Guide to Navigating Parallel Universes and Pocket Dimensions.

Typically, you hate to bother people in a bookstore, especially if they're already reading. It's supposed to be a space for quiet reflection, for self-exploration and uninterrupted browsing. But you still have a job to do, and it's clear that you won't be able to navigate the complicated system yourself. At least, not in a concise period of time.

So you square your shoulders and prepare yourself to address the (handsome, you notice) man at the counter.

"Excuse me," you begin in a hushed voice.

The man's head whips up, as if he completely forgot there was another person here.

"Yes?" He says in that same deep voice, friendly and eager. "Do you need help finding something?" It sounds like he can't quite believe the fact. This place must not get many customers.

"Yes, if you don't mind."

His face lights up as if nothing would delight him more.

"Do you have anything on unusual mushrooms?" you ask.

The man sets down his book and slips out from behind the desk. "Hmm..." he mumbles to himself, expertly weaving between the shelves while you hurry to catch up.

"Let's see here..." he says, passing a wall draped with vines from a hanging planter, like the ones in Yoongi's lab, you notice.

"Fungi," he mutters, fingertips ghosting over the shelves. The sections under Fungi are vast and wide-ranging. Poisons & Antidotes, Moss & Lichens, Carnivorous, Aberrations.

He pauses at that last one, eyes flitting between the volumes.

"Anything specific?" he asks.

You debate on how much to disclose, but with the several cases of strange fungi in people's yards, it's probably common small town knowledge by now.

"Anything about an unusual fungus with...tendrils?" You can't help the hesitation, you're not sure if it's a common feature among mushrooms.

Apparently, it's not as unusual as you thought, because the man only nods and shifts his attention to one of the lower shelves. His slim fingers finally land on an old cloth-bound book with a red toadstool on the spine. There's no title on the cover, but the man seems to be familiar with it.

"Here you go," he says, handing it to you. "I think you'll find what you're looking for in this one."

He says it with the confidence of someone who's read every book in the building front to back. A very specific part of your brain tells you that this fact is almost certainly true.

"Thank you very much," you say, turning the book over in your hands.

"My pleasure," he replies, and means it.

"How much?"

He guides you back to the counter and rings it up for a very good price.

You're itching to ask questions, but you're not sure where to start.

The man places the book into a brown paper bag printed with Magic Shop Books and Oddities and hands it to you with a warm smile.

You lose your nerve and take the bag in silence. Then, as if he could smell the fragmented thoughts darting around in your skull, he says, "Be careful in the woods."

You look at him. There's the same friendly smile, but now with a hint of good-natured curiosity.

"If you're going mushroom hunting, I mean," he adds.

You stare at him for perhaps too long.

"Thanks," you say, dropping a generous tip into the jar next to the register.

"Hope to see you again," he calls out as you exit through the front door.

A moth to flame, bees to honey. Insert: you to coffee shops with perfect ambient lighting. You spot it just as you're leaving the narrow alley that leads to the bookshop.

Turning the corner onto a cobblestone walkway, you catch sight of the cafe windows, slick with the recent rain. But from what you can see through the glass, it looks like a warm, cozy place.

Glancing at the front door, you notice an OPEN sign, even though it's quite late. You're opening the door and stepping inside before you're even conscious of it.

The interior reflects the same aged aesthetic as the exterior, dark wood and brick and brass accents. But the kitchen area houses clean chrome appliances, and there are shelves stacked with white dishes behind them. Golden light warms a glass case fully stocked with a manner of pastries, breads, and other nibbles, all of which still seem to be steaming hot.

You immediately decide that you like this place.

"Good evening," a pleasant voice calls, though you can't yet identify the speaker.

The smell of steam and freshly-ground coffee beans becomes richer as you approach the counter. You can hear someone puttering around in the back room.

You glance at the menu's wide selection, and when you look back at the counter, a man is standing right in front of you.

You don't scare easily, but it's enough to make you jump a little.

"What can I get you?" the man asks cheerfully. He's tall and slim, wearing a white button-up and black slacks under an apron. Brown hair, dark eyes, and a full smiling mouth.

You order a coffee and a pastry.

"What time do you close?" you ask, wanting to sit down and enjoy the atmosphere but also not wanting to be the asshole that settles in just before closing.

"On Wednesdays we close at noon, otherwise we're open twenty-four hours," he replies, sounding delighted by rather than annoyed by the fact.

A twenty-four hour coffee shop? You really like this place.

He must see your eyebrows raise in surprise, because then he proudly adds, "Only one in town."

Pleasantly surprised, you look around the shop to assess the seating options. There are booths tucked along the walls, a few tables and chairs, and a few plush-looking armchairs near the windows.

"Please, have a seat and make yourself at home. I enjoy the company," the man says as he makes your drink.

You take him up on it, settling into one of the chairs by the frosted glass of the window. It's then that you take a closer look at the book the shop owner recommended.

A fraying cloth-bound cover, a red toadstool instead of a title. Inside, a table of contents. First, a bit of basic mycology, which you greatly benefit from. Immediately after, a range of mutations, circumstances, and environmental factors that caused the direct disturbance to said mycology.

You get lost in it quite easily, sipping your drink (which is expertly brewed) and nibbling your pastry (which is almost too delicious for words). You know that you'll be spending a considerable amount of time here throughout your stay in Farrow's End.

The book cites several case studies, all suggesting that a new strain of fungus is not only spreading rapidly, but infecting all other strains it has access to.

You read on, only momentarily distracted by the occasional customers that enter into the establishment. Like the group of students, most likely from the University, who order a large batch of espresso to-go. Or the old man who orders a sandwich and black coffee and sits outside despite the late-night chill.

You don't realize it, but you read on until the early morning. The first few faint, pale rays of sunlight stretch across your current page through the window, and you jerk to attention when you realize what time it is.

Not that you have somewhere in particular to be today. But you've always liked to get a jump on things early on in the investigation. And you have better luck getting interviews during the day.

You had no idea that time was passing so quickly. This place seems to have an air of particular tranquility, the kind that only a handful of coffee shops are able to achieve. It's the feeling of finding a quiet place after being overstimulated for hours.

You take your dishes to the counter, drop a tip into the jar, and step into the morning chill.

Exhaustion sets in on the journey home, and you crash moments after your head hits the pillow.

The dreams start that night.

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! love to hear any of ur thoughts 👉👈

next chapter

#bts ot7 #ot7 x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts mystery #bts x fem!reader #bts series #bts f #bts fic #bts angst #bts fluff

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demonshauntingthedoves · 1 year

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𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒌𝒋𝒊𝒏

Hiraeth : Yandere!seokjin x female reader (@wildestdreamsblog )

Mold a Pretty Lie : YandereProfessor!jin x undergrad!female reader (@blog-name-idk )

Fools Paradise : YandereStranger!jin x pregnant reader (@min-hoax )

Price of Prejudice : YandereLord!jin x femal reader (@girlmeetsliv3)

Mercy : YandereKing!seokjin x maid female reader (@raggaraddy)

Obsidian Pearl : YandereMerman!seokjin x female reader (@angelicyoongie )

Ringmaster : YandereRingmaster!jin x female reader (@koosbabygrl)

Closed Curtains : YandereDirector!jin x rookie actress female reader (@angellgguk )

Sit, still look pretty; : YandereHusband!jin x wife reader (@aajjks )

𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒋𝒐𝒐𝒏

Let the Villain Win : YandereWriter!namjoon x female (@lemonjoonah)

Persephone : YandereMafia!namjoon x female reader (@deepdarkdelights )

Baby Fever : YandereIdol!namjoon x female reader (@wildestdreamsblog)

𝒎𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒊

Latibule : YandereMafia!yoongi x female reader (@wildestdreamsblog)

Angel's Mask : YandereMafia!yoongi x female leader (@min-hoax )

Daisy : YandereTeacher!yoongi x female reader (@cosmostae )

𝒋𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒌

Runaway : YandereVampire!hoseok x female reader (@raggaraddy)

Forbidden Fruit : Yandere!hoseok x fem reader (@deepdarkdelights)

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒋𝒊𝒎𝒊𝒏

Little Mouse : YandereBully!jimin x chubby brazilian female reader (@thvlouvre )

Porcelain : YandereDollseller!jimin x female reader (@deepdarkdelights)

The Scent Of The Flower : YandereStepdad!jimin x female reader (@cosmostae)

Defiant Affairs : YandereStepbro x female reader (@yandere-society)

From Afar : YandereTeacher!jimin x female reader (@min-hoax )

𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒂𝒆𝒉𝒚𝒖𝒏𝒈

Open : YandereBully!taehyung x stalker-ish female reader (@euphoricfilter )

Strawberries : Yandere!taehyung x female reader (@cosmostae )

Cut : YandereActor!taehyung x female actor reader (@deepdarkdelights)

𝒋𝒆𝒐𝒏 𝒋𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒌𝒐𝒐𝒌

POLARITY : YandereBestfriend'sbf!jungkook x female reader (@darkestcorners )

DARKNETS : YandereHacker!jungkook x female reader (@darkestcorners )

Bloody Love : YandereKing!jungkook x female reader (@hongjoongscafe)

Hangman : Yandere!jungkook x female reader (@aft3rhrs)

The Deepest Marks of Essence : YandereTribeleader!jungkook x female reader (@lleldey)

The Crimson Shell : YandereMermaid!jungkook x female reader (@angelicyoongie )

Obsesión : YandereRugbyplayer!jungkook x hispanic latina reporter female reader (@thvlouvre )

Raven : YandereCultleader!jungkook x female reader (@darkestcorners )

I'm not human at all : Yandere!jungkook x female reader (@silv3rswirls)

Velvet Heart : YandereIdol! jungkook x female reader (@bonny-kookoo )

LESSON I : YandereTeacher!jungkook x bully student fem reader (@redsaurrce )

Companionship : Yandere!jungkook x female reader (@aft3rhrs)

Bunny koo : Yanderebunnyhybrid!jungkook x owner fem reader (@aajjks )

Your eyes tell : YandereTwin!jungkook x female reader (@angellgguk )

Brother Knows Best : YandereStepbro!jungkook x female reader (@cosmostae)

Angel : Yandere!jungkook x female reader (@silv3rswirls)

You Are My Crown : YanderePrince!jungkook x female reader (@redsaurrce)

Silver blades : YanderePrince!jungkook x fem reader (@jooniyah )

Scream, baby : Yanderebf!jungkook x female reader (@aajjks )

Nuisance : YandereStepbro!jungkook x female reader (@min-hoax )

Devil's Child : YandereStepbro!jungkook x female reader (@cosmostae )

Crush : YandereSimp!jungkook x barista fem reader (@aajjks )

Heartstrings : YandereNerd!jungkook x fem reader (@cosmostae )

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757 notes · View notes

tjwritesfanfics · 2 months

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BTS MASTERLIST💜

Main Masterlist

MINORS DON'T INTERACT ON NSFW THINGS

🔥NSFW 🌻Fluff 💔Angst

OT7 💜

💙BTS spoiling you 🌻

💙BTS playfighting with you 🌻

💙BTS exposing your relationship on VLive *written by my friend 🌻

💙First kiss (Hyung line) *written by my friend 🌻

💙First kiss (Makane line) *written by my friend 🌻

💙 BTS seeing you at work 🌻

💙Rejecting fuckboy BTS over text 🔥

💙BTS meeting you for the first time 🌻

💙BTS sending snaps because they miss you on tour 🌻

💙BTS losing you to an abusive boyfriend 💔💔

💙BTS rap line's friend who stutters can rap 🌻

💙Kissing in the rain (Hyung line) 🌻

💙Kissing in the rain (Maknae line) 🌻

💙BTS not noticing that you were on the camera crew 🌻

💙BTS jealous of everyone (Bi reader) 🌻

💙BTS playing the Pocky Game with you 🌻

💙BTS seeing you with glasses for the first time *written by my friend 🌻

Kim Namjoon 🐨

One Shots

💙Order for 🌻

Not such a normal day at work for Namjoon

💙Trees 🌻

Your grandson starts asking about trees. So, you tell him where he can find a man who went by the name Koya, though you knew him as Kim Namjoon, a friend, but then he became the man who destroyed the trees.

💙Perfect warm up (ft Jin) 🔥

Namjoon and Jin need your help to warm up before a show

Kim Seokjin 🦙

One Shots

💙Perfect warm up (ft Namjoon) 🔥

Namjoon and Jin need your help to warm up before a show

Min Yoongi 🐈‍⬛

One shots

💙Miss Jackson 🔥

Yoongi and Jungkook knew what you did for fun. They just wish they weren’t the ones stuck cleaning up after you.

💙Not all bad 🌻

You were working at a hybrid shelter and in a desperate need for money, you take the position to take care of the rare panther hybrid. Turns out it would be a lot harder than you thought.

Series

💙Back in Time (Completed) 💔

While helping your boyfriend research his ancestry you find a very old looking book. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you open it, a flash of light sucks you into a world you’d never seen before. Now with a man who looks exactly like your boyfriend you have to find a way home. 1 2 3 4 5 6

Jung Hoseok 🐿️

One shots

💙You're mine (ft Lee Felix) 🌻

BTS has been super busy with their comeback, so Hoseok hasn’t seen his girlfriend in a few weeks. After he hears that you want to learn to dance, he takes it upon himself to teach you. Imagine his surprise when he finds you and Stray Kid’s, Lee Felix, in the middle of a dance lesson.

💙Remembering the days 💔💔

Hoseok remembers all the fun times you had together.

💙Hallmark Holidays 🌻

After a terrible break up, your best friend convinces you to go back to your hometown. Only problem was you hadn’t been back in seven years and your ex-boyfriend was still there and you kinda sort of still have feelings for him.

Park Jimin 💖

One shots

💙Miss Jackson 🔥

Park Jimin loves you. He loves you more than he can handle, and he isn’t about to let your latest plaything get in his way.

💙Apple bottom jeans 🔥

CEO Park Jimin decides he wants a night to relax and there was no better time than on his birthday and at his favorite strip joint. Luckily for him you were preforming and offering him a special birthday treat.

💙You look so pretty 🔥

After a long day at work, your boyfriend has a surprise for you.

Kim Taehyung 🐯

One Shots

💙Lesson Learned 🔥

You belonged to him. No matter what.

💙The Contract 💔

You love Taehyung and will do anything to be with him.

💙Growl 🔥

After watching Taehyung perform there was nothing you wanted more than to suck his dick.

💙Blood lust 🔥

With a killer clown on the loose, you worry about your boyfriend’s late-night job. A job you knew he had but didn’t know the details of what he did or where it was. Or you didn’t until the night you heard screaming from the basement.

💙Only her 🔥

Kim Taehyung and his twin brother V always shared everything with each other. Food, clothes, and the love of killing. No one ever understood them until they move to Seoul and meet y/n, the pretty barista at the coffee shop down the road. Now they had to have you in their lives, and no one could stand in their way.

Series

💙Helping hands 🔥

Your father hired Taehyung to lend a helping hand around the farm every summer, but what he didn’t know was that Taehyung also lent his ‘helping hands’ to his daughter too.

💙Mile high (part 2 of helping hands) 🔥

Halfway through the summer, your town was holding a county fair! You really wanted to go and take Taehyung with you. What you didn’t expect was to end up stuck on the top of the fairs wheel with your secret boyfriend and your best friend that just confessed his feeling for you.

Jeon Jungkook 🐰

One shots

💙Miss Jackson 🔥

Yoongi and Jungkook knew what you did for fun. They just wish they weren’t the ones stuck cleaning up after you.

💙International playboy 🔥

You meet BTS International Playboy, and he just rocks your world.

💙Dirty translator 🔥

Jungkook needs Namjoon's help to translate for his girlfriend

💙Finally 🔥

Giving Jungkook a hand job at dinner leads to much more.

Series

💙Behind closed doors (on hold)

Everyone wants new kid, Jeon Jungkook’s, attention. You had it without even asking for it and if they knew the consequences that come with having his attention, they wouldn’t want it. 1

79 notes · View notes

minniepetals · 2 years

Text

yellow lights

— summary: who would have thought your coworkers would mean more to you than you initially thought a year later?

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: fluff, poly!au, office!au, established relationship

— word count: 7.0k

— warnings: none

— commission for @vickyyy97

“Someone looks happy today. Who’s got you smiling like that, darling?” You look over at Seokjin who greets you the second you walk into the office today, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Was it a man?” He asks and you feel heat slowly rising upon your cheeks.

He takes note of that.

“Well actually, u-um,” you scratch the back of your head, trying to play it cool but knowing nothing can ever get past the Kim Seokjin.

“No way! You’re serious?” Someone else comes up from the other side of the room and you turn to find Jimin and Taehyung walking over, the older of the 95 liner holding a hand over his gaped mouth as if this was the most shocking news he’s ever heard in his life.

“I never knew you had a man in your life already, Y/N,” Taehyung says with an arm coming over to pull you into a headlock as he ruffles your hair.

“Tae!” You whine, pouting slightly at his antics. “I don’t have a man but there was this cute barista I saw just a few blocks away.”

“Damn! She’s now taken!” He smacks his hands over his heart in a dramatic gesture you have to push him off you a bit so the coffee in your hand doesn’t spill over.

“I’m not,” you reiterate.

“But there’s a chance, yeah?” Seokjin says as he takes your coffee cup without permission to show off the number written there. “He gave you his number.”

“That’s…” You avert your eyes, biting your lower lip.

“Ooh, look at that,” Jimin takes the cup in his hand, examining it with a playful snicker, “he drew a little heart.”

“Stop it guys, you’re embarrassing.” You try to take your coffee back, only they don’t give you a chance.

“Hey if it doesn’t work out, you can always come back into my arms to cry, yeah? I’ll always be right here to cheer you up.” Despite how playful he sounds right now, you know there’s always a high chance Taehyung means it more than anything. It doesn’t take over the fact that his constant flirting doesn’t always get you worked up, however.

“I-I don’t think I’ll be needing it but uh, thanks for the offer.”

“Well, whatever happens,” you see Seokjin take the coffee back from Jimin who’s still laughing over the little note the barista gave you, in order to hand it back to you, “as long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.”

You feel a light pat on your head, a gentle gesture he tends to do when he wishes to cheer you up.

Ah. How sweet.

You feel your heart skip a beat.

“...Thanks Jin.”

“I never took you as a coffee person.” Yoongi, on the more quiet side, as compared to the rest of the boys, gives you a small raise in his brow when he takes note of the coffee you have on your desk for the third day in a row. “I thought you preferred tea or...other things.”

You did once speak on drink preferences though you never thought Yoongi would ever take note of them seriously because they were always just small talks that led to no direction. Yet here he is, raising a brow at the coffee you have.

“Is it the barista?” He asks and you know by now the boys probably all know your encounter with the cute barista a few blocks down the street. When you feel your cheeks heating up, you hear Yoongi let out a small chuckle. “I get it, Y/N. Feelings always start off with the infatuation you have for someone, but you have to keep in mind not to force anything you dislike for someone else. What’re you going to do when you’re unhappy just to keep someone else happy? That isn’t exactly healthy, now is it?”

“You sound like my mom always giving me life lessons,” Hoseok comes in with rolled eyes over his hyung’s words. “Don’t listen to him, Y/N.”

“You know I’m right.”

“Even if you are, it’s not like they can’t talk things over once they get closer. Isn’t that right?” Hoseok turns to you, putting you on the spot and making you freeze up.

“W-well, yes. I suppose so.”

“Well.” Yoongi lets out a sigh. “If you aren’t going to drink the coffee, just order a black coffee and I’ll drink it for you the next time you return.”

And so it becomes a routine where you’re rushing in the morning, ordering the black coffee just to have a small conversation with the cute barista before it’s time for work and once you’re in, Yoongi takes the coffee for you, drinking it.

For a good time it goes on like this; the constant teasing from the boys, Namjoon scolding them, and Yoongi sitting back to enjoy the show with his free coffee every morning.

Though at times you feel Taehyung’s flirty comments are much more common than usual, Seokjin’s a little gentler, Jimin’s a little touchier, Jungkook’s a bit more pouty and cranky, Hoseok’s by your side more often, Yoongi more willing to engage in conversations rather than his usual responses of “mhm” and “yes” or “no,” and Namjoon being more observant.

Perhaps it’s the change in the seasons, perhaps it’s the new project the team’s working on, or perhaps they’re just looking out for you because you’re still a bit new to everything and they don’t want you getting hurt or taken advantage of.

They’re kind after all. Ever since the first day you joined the company since your move here, the boys have been nothing but kind and welcoming towards you, helping you out in areas you need to improve on, exchanging numbers, offering to hang out outside work hours, and just anything and everything for you in order to help you feel more comfortable.

It’s sweet having people looking out for you.

“Date?” One late night with just you and Jungkook left behind, you decide to relay the news to him as the two of you finally finish off for the night. “Well finally, seems like that bastard wasn’t ever going to pick up the guts to ask you out.” He sounds a bit irritated, as he usually would when the topic of the barista is brought up. “So then, where you going?”

“He said he’ll be taking me out to dinner.”

“Dinner, huh? So you’ll be dressing up all nice and pretty for him, huh?”

“Well-” You cut yourself off, looking off to the side with a hand hovered over your cheeks. “It’s..the normal thing to do, right? When..one goes on a date?”

“I guess,” he shrugs, sounding bored with his hands in his pockets.

“I haven’t done this in a while, I’m kind of nervous. Though to be honest, I don’t really enjoy one-on-one meal dates too much, especially with someone I don’t really know that well. I mean even though I find him cute and nice it’s just…hm, I don’t know. It’s just nerve-wracking I guess.”

“Really? Dinner dates aren’t your thing?” Jungkook looks over at you, a bit surprised.

“I just get too much social anxiety,” you chuckle nervously his way. “I mean, there’s always a chance my date might ditch me and I’ll end up sitting there being awkwardly stared at by other customers and the waiter will also be placed in an awkward position. Not to mention the food choices are way too many to choose from and you can never really guess what will be good and what will not. Plus I’m just an awkward person in general when it comes to one-on-one interaction over a formal occasion. What if he finds me boring?”

“He’d be a fool if he did,” he mutters under his breath.

“Huh?”

Jungkook clears his throat, speaking louder this time. “I said that’s stupid to be worrying over.”

“Oh.” You blink. “Is it?”

“I’m not saying it’s–” He pauses, takes a breath in and out before speaking again. “What I meant was, you shouldn’t worry about that because you’re not boring. Well, not to me.”

“Ha ha, that totally helped release all of my anxieties at once.”

“I’m just saying,” he purses his lips into a small pout, “I mean I get awkward with people all the time because I’m an idiot who doesn’t know how to keep a conversation going but I’ve never been uncomfortable with you. You’ve never made me feel bored and I’ve never had a thought of wanting to get out of a conversation with you so it’d be dumb if that bastard did. I’m the most awkward person on Earth. I’m sure you’ll do fine with him.”

You giggle at the way Jungkook seems to shy away after giving you a few compliments, his ears a little red, head turned off to the side but you catch sight of the slight blush on his cheeks under the night sky.

“Thanks, Jungkook.”

“Come on,” he rushes forward, opening the passenger side of the door for you in order to snap out of his embarrassment. “Get in, I’ll take you home.”

“Uh, what? You want me to spy on Y/N?” Namjoon looks the maknaes dead in the eyes before turning his back to them, returning to the coffee maker in the break room. “No. I’m on a break, stop bothering me.”

“Oh come on hyung!” Taehyung whines as he tugs on the hem of Namjoon’s blazer.

“If you’re that desperate to see how her date goes, why don’t you go yourself?” He pauses. “Actually, that’s a bad idea.”

“Yeah exactly! Taehyung and I both know we’d do a horrible job and get noticed right away, which will put Y/N in an awkward situation, and Jungkook here has anger issues so if that barista does something wrong, he’s also bound to get noticed.”

“Listen, I know I have my problems but hearing it out loud still hurts, you know.”

“The truth hurts, maknae.” Jimin pats his head, causing him to frown even deeper. “And Yoongi hyung,” he turns back to Namjoon again, “he’s also bound to punch the dude if something goes wrong. Jin and Hoseok hyung are great candidates but they’re working that day. You’re the only one available, hyung.”

“I’m also working that day.”

“You get out early.”

“How is it that you know my schedule so well, Park Jimin?” Coffee done and set in a cup, Namjoon turns back to the three of them, letting out a heavy sigh. “Can’t you just let it go? Y/N can’t keep staying under our wings forever. She’s a grown woman capable of taking care of herself.”

“Yes, yes, but what if something goes wrong?” Jungkook says, the three of them still holding their stance.

“Seems like you want it to go wrong.” Namjoon takes a sip of his drink, staring them down.

“Whaaat? Now why would I want that? Y/N’s happiness matters most of all and if that happiness is with the barista, why would I wanna intervene?”

“You’re gritting your teeth.”

He avoids eye contact, not even wanting to deny Namjoon’s accusation as he places his hands in his pockets.

In the end, the maknaes’ persuasion skills are much more in effect as they manage to rope Namjoon into their shenanigans, so when the day comes, the man finds himself being there to be the witness to how your date with the barista goes.

And unfortunately on your end, it doesn’t go too well.

“You…have a girlfriend?” You look at the phone he has in his hand when he turns around, surprised you caught him in the act when he excused himself to pick up a call, only to leave you in that restaurant for some time so you decided to step out to check up on him and now here you are, staring at a man who holds onto a dumb expression because he got caught.

“Who’s that?” You hear a voice from the other line of his phone and Woosung turns around for a second again, putting the phone back to his ear as he whispers “I’ll call you back” before turning back shamelessly around with an awkward smile.

You bite your lower lip, feeling like a fool as your shoulders keep their tense state and you take a step back. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Things were rocky,” he says, “we still are–”

“That doesn’t make it right to go around and sweeten up to other girls,” you cut him off, not wanting to hear the excuses. “If you wanted another relationship, you should have broken up with your girlfriend first but instead here you are, making a fool out of me, using me as a side piece. If things went back to normal with your girlfriend, you were just going to toss me off to the side, weren’t you? Or use me as a secret affair?”

“Y/N-”

“Don’t say my name, please.” You take a few more steps back, feeling lightheaded and done. “Don’t contact me again. Delete my number, please.”

You turn to walk off, only to have your wrist pulled back.

“Hear me out-”

“I don’t want to hear anything!” You try to pull your arm back to get away from him but his grip is too tight for you to actually do much. “Let me go. You have a girlfriend.”

“I’ll break up with her,” Woosung tries to concede but you can only scoff in his face.

“Are you serious? If you can go around her back and try to get with other girls, you can do that to me too.”

“Y/N-”

“Let go,” you beg, feeling your voice crack as the tears finally begin to form upon the forceful way he holds onto you, not wanting to release his grip no matter how much you try to escape. “Please, I don’t want anything to do with you anymore, I-”

Just as you feel a drop of tear about to fall from your eye, a foreign hand is placed right upon your eyes to block your vision, the sling of arm he has on you pulling you back against his chest and a voice rumbles from the depths of his throat.

“Do not ever waste your tears on spoiled milk, sweetheart, do not let him think he has power over you,” the voice says, a voice you recognize, a voice that begins to fight off the fear you had thinking you were alone and no one would help you out of this situation. Suddenly the hand isn’t so foreign anymore and you find yourself relaxing a bit into that chest of his.

“Mind letting go of that precious hand, buddy?” Namjoon says, his voice dropping an octave when he addresses your admirer. “We don’t want to make a scene here now do we? Unless you do, and in that case, I can definitely give you a show.”

When he doesn’t say a word in response, too frightened at how grave Namjoon sounds, your rescuer lets out a scoff before giving you a squeeze on the shoulder to let you know that you were to be leaving.

He turns you around, taking his hand off your eyes, but not from your shoulder, and guiding you away from the scene, knowing not to leave you alone until the two of you were finally away from the sight of Woosung.

“You alright?” Only then does Namjoon let you go and take a step back, watching to make sure you don’t look too uncomfortable.

Yet his hands being placed on you wasn’t the problem, it was the fact that you just found out the guy you thought was interested in you had a girlfriend all along, and in the shameful feeling you’re suddenly forced to face tonight, your head lowers to the ground, unable to look Namjoon in the eyes.

“Sorry you had to…see that.”

“Why are you apologizing? You have nothing to apologize for.” He hands you a tissue to which you take, wiping your tears despite it still coming down, and when it seems as if they won’t stop any time soon, Namjoon takes the initiative to take a step forward and pull you into his arms, embracing you in the way you need it.

You bury your face into his chest as he holds you, the night breeze flying past with nothing but the sound of a few cars passing by and your little sniffles, and in this very moment, all you can think is that Namjoon’s arms feel so warm, so comfortable, and so kind.

Just what you need.

Just what you needed.

“Sorry,” you croak out again, voice sounding a little more broken but Namjoon shakes his head as he holds you tighter.

“It’s alright.”

“I probably look like a fool,” you say and yet he shakes his head.

“None of this was your fault.”

“I should have known,” you pull back just slightly to wipe at your eyes, “all men, whether in Korea or elsewhere, has the audacity to be such assholes.”

“Hmm, you’re right. In one way or another, everyone’s the same.”

You look up at him, sight a little blurry. “Why’re you not defending men or saying ‘not all men’?”

“Because that’d piss you off,” you scoff, “and I know how we can be.”

“But you…” You bite onto your lower lip, staring down at his white dress shirt as tear stains and some bits of your makeup managed to fall upon them — a sight he doesn’t care to pay attention to. You now feel embarrassed for a different reason. “I probably look like a mess right now, I’m so sorry,” you cry, hating the sight of your mascara wet on your fingers.

“You’re cute,” Namjoon chuckles and you give him a little punch on the chest, wanting to hide your embarrassment and only causing him to laugh a little more.

“How’d you know to even find me? How’d you even get there in the first place? It was like you were already there.”

“Well…” When he hesitates, you look back up at him, blinking.

“Don’t tell me Jungkook set you up to this?”

“Not just him.”

The maknaes. “Of course it’s them.” You let out a sigh. “I’m kind of surprised with how protective they seem to be, they didn’t come here themselves and sent you instead.”

“They sent me because they knew if something went wrong, they wouldn’t be able to stop themselves before that barista has a couple of bruises on his face.”

You laugh a little at that sentiment. “Well aren’t they aware.”

“If I tell them you cried, I wonder what they’d do.”

“Don’t!” You quickly say, grabbing a fistful of his shirt to make sure he knows just how serious you are. “I already told them where Woosung works at so if they know what he did, who knows what they’d do.”

“Are you that worried?”

“They have absolutely no care for what other people think of them so of course I’m worried.” You quickly wipe the remaining tears left on your face. “I don’t want to be the reason someone gets hurt.”

“I suppose I can leave out a few details.”

“Thanks, Namjoon.” You look around the empty streets of the night, feeling a bit awkward now that things are starting to calm down. “And..thanks…for being there…..and here, right now.”

Namjoon lets out a light chuckle. “Mr. Bang told us to look out for our newbie, didn’t he?” He says, a light reminder of your company CEO’s words to them when you first joined. “Though even without him saying so, we’d still be taking care of you.”

You smile up his way, knowing that if he hadn’t been here tonight, a different outcome would have occurred and you aren’t sure how you would have been able to deal with things were it not for him.

“Sorry you won’t be getting your usual free coffee anymore.” When you take a seat beside Yoongi the next day, something tells you he probably knows the actual full story about what happened the night before unlike the three younger ones. Namjoon probably felt it safe to tell the older ones and that you wouldn’t blame him for it.

He’s right.

Before the man can reply, Jimin’s sliding his chair on over with a comment of his own. “Who cares? Hyung can get his own coffee and there’s always plenty of fishes in the sea.”

“He’s right, I’m a fish,” Taehyung says with a smirk sent your way. “I’m a great fish.”

You laugh a little at that. “It’s alright guys. He was cute but I forgot that pretty faces don't always mean pretty hearts.”

“I’m literally right in front of you but go off.” Taehyung sits himself on Jimin’s lap with a roll of his eyes, causing you to giggle.

“I knew he was a red flag,” Jungkook joins in with his arms leaning over your desk. “Everything about the dude screamed red flag.”

“You never even met him.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t tell,” he argues. “If you ask me, even Taehyung’s a better candidate.”

“See, what’d I tell you?” The older one is quick to agree as his eyes light up. “Why don’t you give me a chance, sweetheart? I’d never break your heart.”

“That’s a lie,” you laugh.

He pouts. “Why would you say that? You don’t trust me?”

“I’m just saying it’s inevitable to break someone’s heart whether you mean to or not. That’s just what happens when you’re in a relationship right? Not everything is smooth sailing.”

“Well, you can break my heart anytime.”

“Alright, alright, stop bothering me and get back to your stations already.” When Yoongi finally speaks up among the conversation you seemed to attract without meaning to, the three boys are quick to obey their hyung’s words, sitting up and scattering to their destination after a quick wave of goodbye your way.

You yourself were just about to return to your own station when Yoongi stops you mid-way.

“By the way,” he starts, allowing you to look back at him, “Stop apologizing, you’ll wear yourself out.”

It’s blunt the way he says it but you know that Yoongi always means well so it makes your insides warm hearing him giving you kind words in return to what you initially came to him for.

“So, what do you think about this?”

Hoseok takes a glance at your computer screen before looking back at you, whose eyes seem to look slightly dreary despite the excitement settled in them.

“I think you need to take a break,” he says and you’re quick to frown.

“Come on, Hoseok, just look it over for a second, yeah? I promise I’ll stop bothering after.”

“You said that last time.”

“I really promise this time!”

“No, you’re lying,” he says with a poke at your forehead, forcing your head to get pushed back away from him. “You’ve been working too hard these days you might actually collapse soon and what kind of sunbae would I be if I didn’t look out for my hoobae’s health?”

“But I’m fine-”

He knows all too well the sudden shift in focus you’ve had on work ever since the failed date with the barista down the street, a sort of focus that forces you to work much too hard and way too much than needed.

“Come on, it’s almost midnight.”

“And?”

You’ve even forgotten what tomorrow implies.

He takes ahold of your chair, rolling it away from your computer so he can make sure everything’s saved before shutting it off, causing you to groan in response, yet when he goes on to get your jacket, you’re reluctantly obedient.

“Have you forgotten what today is?” He asks and you look at your phone.

“The twenty-second of January. Why?”

“What’s tomorrow?”

“The twenty-third.”

He rolls his eyes. “Of course you’ve forgotten.”

“Forgotten what?” Wide eyes, innocent and curious, totally oblivious as you allow him to help you put your arms through the sleeves of your jacket.

Hoseok looks out the window and you follow his eyes, wondering why the night sky has caught his attention, but when there’s nothing there and he says nothing in reply to your question, you go on to gather your things just as he checks his watch.

“Are you free right now?” He asks, not looking up from his watch.

“I have a few minutes to spare.”

“Just a few?”

You chuckle. “I’m free, Hoseok.”

“Great.” He takes a step from where you are gathering your things, sliding up from behind and leans right into your ear. “Happy birthday, Y/N.”

It’s so soft and quiet against your ear but you know you haven’t misheard a thing just as the phone on the desk lights up and you see that it’s 12:00 am, the twenty-third of January; your 26th birthday.

“Come on then,” he takes your bag before you can protest, walking off to have you chasing him right behind, “we’ve got plans.”

“Plans?” You blink, hurrying to keep up. “Wait, what do you mean ‘we’?”

Yet you receive no answer as he takes you in his car and drives off with a grin on his face, leaving you wondering with anticipation for what’s to happen.

It doesn’t take long before the two of you arrive at some sort of park you don’t think you’ve ever visited before.

“Why are we here?” You ask and yet all you receive is Hoseok’s hand asking you to just trust him and follow along. You take his hand and he leads you toward the inner part of the park until you’re standing right before a fountain. “How pretty,” you say, wondering why you never took the chance to ever come to such a place before. “Hoseok, you–”

When you turn around to address the man who brought you here in the first place, there’s no one in sight.

“Hoseok?” You call for him, confused as you begin to look around.

Just then, lights begin to appear.

Pretty little fairy lights decorated along the lampposts and hedges of the part. Bright white and golden all around, leaving you to only stare in awe at the sudden burst of lights gleaming all around while you stand in the center of it all, heart picking up its pace at just how pretty everything looks.

All for you.

No one’s ever done something as grand as this for you, not even your closest friend,s and yet here you are, cherished by people whom you’ve known for only a year or so.

“Do you like it?”

You turn at the familiar voice to see Hoseok with a grin, and just behind him stands the rest of the guys who share the same sentiment.

“Like it?” Words can’t even begin to describe. “I..”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Are you crying?!” Seokjin’s the first to rush up to you when he sees your hands raising up to your face, taking them in his and blowing his warm breath onto them to warm it up as Yoongi presses both his gloved hands upon your cheeks. “Don’t cry now, this was supposed to make you happy.”

“I am happy,” you say as a few tears slip. “I’m really happy.”

“Are you sure because crying usually means—”

“I promise,” you cut Yoongi off when you see the serious frown he has on his face, a sign of worry as he frets over your tears. “I promise I’m happy.”

“You have such an odd way of proving you’re happy,” he grumbles under his breath, causing you to let out a laugh.

“We have cake but I don’t think you’d be able to blow out the candles in this windy environment.”

January is still Winter after all.

“That’s alright,” you say to Jimin, “we can just pretend the fire’s on.”

And so he goes on to get the cake with Taehyung in toll, and in the middle of the pretty park they’ve taken the time to show you, a soft birthday song rings in the air, and when that’s over, you intertwine your fingers together for a wish before blowing out the imaginary fire on the candles.

January is a bit cold, a little worse when the moon has risen high in the sky, but tonight you feel anything but the coldness, not when these seven boys have taken the time to dedicate themselves to making sure you’re having a good time.

“You know if you keep staring at me, you might burn a hole in my face.”

“Hm? What are you talking about?” Hoseok starts, his chin still propped upon his hand, eyes shamelessly staring without a hint of movement anytime soon. You let out a little chuckle, flustered, and hit him lightly on the chest. “What? Do I make you flustered?”

“You’re almost as bad as Taehyung sometimes.”

“What’s wrong with a little flirting?”

“I’m going to take it the wrong way one day,” you tell him as you get up from your seat to head on over to the printer where a few papers await their turn. “I know you’re all joking though but sometimes, well, admittedly,” you hide your face behind your hair, staring straight at the printing machine to finish its job, “my heart does skip a beat...or two.”

“Really?” He says it so nonchalantly you think your reaction is the least bit of his concern. “Hm, then it’s working,” until he says those words.

“Huh?” You look up, flustered, with blinking eyes. “What do you mean it’s…working?”

Hoseok sends you a smirk just as Taehyung slides up along his side, arm draping over the older man’s shoulder with a mirrored smirk.

“Oh I think you know what that means, darling,” the younger one states, his brows wiggling playfully.

You take the collection of papers that have been printed out for you and huddle them close to your chest, not fully comprehending them only because you wouldn’t want to create a misunderstanding and interpret things wrong when it’s actually meant to have a different meaning.

“I..I-I..”

Before you can finish your stuttering, however, a roll of paper comes along to smack both Hoseok and Taehyung on the head.

“Stop flirting during work hours, you know better than that,” Namjoon warns with a firm expression.

“But you know our girl will never get it if we don’t get to the point,” Hoseok argues.

“The point?” You blink.

“Then get to the point.” Yoongi rolls his eyes, looking exasperated by the antics of the group as he joins the crowd with Jungkook, just as Jimin and Seokjin walk through the doors.

It’s clear the seven of them all know exactly what’s going on while you remain standing there in confusion, left to try to interpret things under your own limited understanding unless they decide they want to come out and just say whatever it is they’re holding out on.

“See, look at her. She’s confused.” Yoongi points out, his head beckoning your way to make them look at you.

You freeze under their stares, not…uncomfortable but more so…shy.

“She’s not confused, she knows exactly what’s happening,” Seokjin speaks up, a slight grin resting on his lips as he walks a few steps forward to take your papers for you. They were meant for him in the first place. “She’s just afraid it might turn out to be false,” he says, purposely staring you down with that glint of playfulness in his eyes.

“Now we don’t want any miscommunications around here, do we?” Jimin sneaks up behind you, hands pressed upon your shoulders. “So why don’t you tell our little one exactly what you mean, hyung?” He’s baiting Hoseok, that slyness in his tone not being able to escape your ears especially when he’s so close to you.

As for the older one, he simply remains calm, instead glancing at the maknae. “Didn’t you want to do the honors? You’ve been waiting for the perfect moment, right?”

Jungkook’s cheeks turn red, his face turning to the side in an instant once the attention is brought down to him instead, and while Jimin snickers, Taehyung holds his laugh, Seokjin hides a grin behind his hand, and Namjoon’s expression turns fond, you find the gentleman who became the first friend you made ever since moving to Korea and working alongside him as a new employee to be quite cute.

He’s always been cute from the very beginning.

You’re the closest in age after all, so with him feeling more comfortable to approach you and make you feel comfortable, you found his company to be a delight you enjoyed looking forward to each day you came to work.

And now here he is, almost a year later, flustered like a teenage boy trying to hand his crush a love letter.

And the boys are eating it up.

“Jungkook?” So you call out to him, knowing he may need a little bit of encouragement to tell you the thing he needs to say, all the while preparing your heart just in case the answer you’re seeking turns out to be wrong and you were just misinterpreting things. “It’s alright, take your time.”

“That’s right, maknae, we’ve got all the time in the world.”

You lightly hit Taehyung on the chest. “You’re not helping the boy.”

He laughs in response. “You already know what he’s trying to say so why not save him the embarrassment?”

“Do I?”

“Oh, would you look at that?” Namjoon raises a brow, impressed. “Someone’s feeling cocky.”

“Huh, no I didn’t mean that!” You’re quick to say, hands rushing to wave it off as you become flustered again. “J-Jungkook I didn’t-” You turn to him, stumbling out your words. “Well, I mean, I think I..I-I don’t exactly..-But if it’s what I think it is..-But if it isn’t, uh-”

“Oh god, they’re hopeless,” Jimin laughs aloud before simply squeezing your shoulders as he leans in. “Why don’t we stop the act and just become ours, hm? I think you know we all feel the same way at this point.”

“Hyung what the hell?!” Jungkook suddenly shouts with his mouth held agape, offended his moment was stolen from him.

“You were taking too long!”

“That doesn’t mean you can take the spotlight!”

In the midst of their little dispute, all you can hear is Jimin’s short yet meaningful confession in your ears, one that seems to make your heart race more than any man has ever made it beat before and you stand there right in the center, eyes unblinking, feeling as if the world is slowing down as you hear each beat your heart drums aloud for you.

“So what do you say?!” Taehyung jumps in, leaving Hoseok’s side to drape his arm around you instead.

“You’re both so annoying!” Jungkook yells, his brows furrowed deeply as his lips jut into a pout.

With cheeks heated and heart set aflame, you take the pouty man’s hand and look him straight in the eyes, taking a moment to calm him down so that the whole room can fall silent, before you turn to look at them all, hands trembling a bit when you say;

“Mmn, I’ll…I can…..yeah.”

Their faces brighten in an instant, and in that moment you realize despite how brave and nonchalant they all may seem to appear on the outside, perhaps deep within their hearts, they were just as nervous and frightened of what your answer may be.

And for that you say the words that Jungkook had been meaning to say but was robbed of the opportunity.

“I like you. I like you so…so much.”

Two years later

“Mr. Bang approved the proposal and he told me he’d be able to connect me with some people and-” you let out a scream of delight as you jump around before Seokjin, taking his hands along with you for him to see just how excited you are right now. “I’m ranking up Jin! I’m ranking up! And soon the company’s going to skyrocket and my efforts will be rewarded! It is rewarded! It’s being rewarded!”

Despite the onlookers of passersby taking quick glances at the two of you as you jump for joy, Seokjin simply smiles fondly at the pretty girl before him, looking her happiest and knowing he’d never want to rain on her parade and cast that look aside.

“Look at that, my little rockstar all grown up,” he says with a smile so gentle and fond of you you think you might fall in love with him all over again.

“Are you proud?” You ask and he chuckles as if the answer was that obvious and did not warrant a question.

“So proud,” he reaffirms your thoughts with hands cupping your cheeks and bringing his nose to playfully graze it with yours before he proudly lands a short yet sweet kiss on your lips.

“Jin, don’t do that in public,” you back away just a little, now noticing the people who’re just trying to walk the street.

Yet Seokjin laughs at you. “I thought you enjoyed public displays of affection.”

“I never said that,” you say as you take his hand and begin to walk off towards the apartment building the eight of you reside in, “that’s Taehyung and Hoseok. And Yoongi doesn’t care about anything so whether it’s embarrassing or not, he’ll do it if he’s in the mood — which can get a little frustrating.”

“Does it?”

“It does. Though now that I think about it, I think all of you except Namjoon and I care about modesty when it comes to displaying affections publicly.”

Seokjin raises a brow. “Jungkook too?”

“He enjoys seeing my reactions!” You say with a huff. “But then when I get him flustered, he goes on a whole rant as if he doesn’t do it frequently to me. Couldn’t you talk to him for me? He’d listen to you.”

“You think he’d listen to me?”

“You’re right, never mind, he never listens to you.”

“I listen well,” just as the elevator doors pop open, someone approaches the two of you from behind, their head propping in between your two bodies, “there’s just a time and place for everything.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes at Jungkook’s response as the three of you walk into the elevator. “It’d be good if you can listen to your elders, Jungkook.”

“Come on now, don’t start giving me life lessons again. It’s just that sometimes tuning some people out is the best thing to do.”

“Excuse me?” You hide your laugh behind a hand at Seokjin’s offended expression but he catches you quickly. “And what’re you doing teaming up with him? You were against him just a few seconds ago,” he says, snaking his arm around your waist to pull you in as you let out a yelp at his tickles.

“You can’t win against our maknae bond, hyung,” Jungkook snickers as he takes your other side, wrapping his arm around you as well.

“Stop, you’re going to suffocate me.”

Just then, the ding to the elevator is heard and you take their moment of distraction to escape their clutches, quick to rush out the doors and run for your apartment door.

When the door opens after unlocking the code, you run right in towards the first person you see, shoes and all.

“Yoongi catch!”

He looks like he’s just gotten up from a nap and yet when he sees you running towards him at full speed, he doesn’t think twice before his arms are instinctively holding you up when you jump onto him successfully.

“What’re you doing back early?” He yawns when another voice chimes in.

“Yeah, you’re not supposed to be back until an hour later,” Namjoon says.

You narrow your eyes. “Not happy at my early arrival?”

“I was trying to surprise you with a cake,” Taehyung yells from the kitchen, to which you turn to see both him and Jimin busy with frostings and cake batter.

“Tae? Baking?” You get down from Yoongi’s stronghold to walk towards them as Hoseok comes around to take your coat.

Taehyung pouts. “Are you doubting my skills? Why don’t you doubt Jimin?”

“Because we all know I’m a great baker.”

“Y/N, shoes.” Seokjin warns from where he stands, pointed eyes your way, stopping you just before you step into the kitchen.

Hoseok helps you out of them so you thank him with a kiss on his cheek.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he nods as he walks over to the shoe rack.

“What’s the cake for?” You step into kitchen territory once approved, peeking over Jimin’s side as he focuses on decorating the cake and seeing the words ‘congratulations’ on it. “Wha..but I didn’t even tell you what the results were.”

“Do we even have to hear it?” Jimin chuckles, stopping midway to give you a kiss on the head.

“You were that confident I’d do well?” Your lower lip juts out, feeling touched by their actions.

“Oh baby, we knew,” Taehyung says, kissing you on the cheek.

“Why is it that you guys spoil me so much? You’re going to overwhelm me.”

“Because you’re our girl, why else?”

Such a calm answer, so straightforward and simple as if that was obvious from the very beginning. They’ve always been like this; considerate and sweet, and when Taehyung pokes your nose and leaves frosting there and you chase him after to exact revenge, when Namjoon scolds the two of you in a calm voice and Jimin shouts at the both of you to not make a mess, Jungkook laughing in the corner, wanting to join in but Seokjin pulling him back, all the while Hoseok and Yoongi simply stands back observing it all, the happiness that bloomed from the very moment you met the seven of them and how they’ve managed to continue allowing you to live in these sweet moments, you know that you will never care for anything else as long as they remain by your side until the very end.

Nothing else in this world matters more than their love and support.

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gimmethatagustd · 8 months

Text

venor (masterlist) | kth + jjk

The barista at the university's café keeps telling Jungkook not to come back, but Jungkook is too busy daydreaming about kissing the beauty marks on his face to be paying attention to his warnings.

○ Pairing: Tiger!Taehyung x Bunny!Jungkook

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Hybrids, predator/prey, college au, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, light angst, eventual smut

○ Warnings: Explicit sexual content, each chapter will have it's own warnings

○ Notes: This is my first hybrid fic, so I hope you enjoy it! It was written for the Taekook Hybrid Fest Season 2 on AO3.

○ Masterlist | AO3 Crosspost

○ What was Jai listening to? The series playlist

Chapter 1

2.5k | February 5, 2024

Chapter 2

4.3k | February 11, 2024

Chapter 3

3.4k | February 18, 2024

Chapter 4

5.2k | February 25, 2024

Chapter 5

4.1k | March 4, 2024

Chapter 6

3.7k | March 11, 2024

Chapter 7

5.8k | March 12, 2024

Chapter 8

5.2k | March 13, 2024

Chapter 9

5.1k | March 14, 2024

Chapter 10

4k | March 17, 2024

Chapter 11

8.9k | March 24, 2024

Chapter 12

7.8k | April 2, 2024

Chapter 13

7.3k | April 7, 2024

Chapter 14

5k | April 21, 2024

Epilogue

5k | May 4, 2024

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.

#taehyung x jungkook #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #venor #masterlist #taekook fanfic

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here2bbtstrash · 2 years

Text

real magic (explicit)

genre: smut, fluff, bangin’ your boss, m attempts kidfic - part of a hyung holiday collab !

pairing: namjoon x reader

summary: the holiday season has never meant anything to you beyond suffering long hours for minimum wage and awaiting the collapse of capitalism— but this year, you’d be willing to add making out with your dilf coffee shop boss to the list.

word count: 16.7k 😩

contains: ~*~explicit sexual content (after kind of a slow burn sorry lol)~*~ the "moving back to your hometown" hallmark trope, a nick jonas poster (yes that's a warning), some taekook slander in the beginning because i thought it was funny, namjoon is so buff and so dumb but so wise and so hot, moni is a little shit, namjoon is a dad!, namjoon's kid uses they/them pronouns but it's not like A Focus of the story it's just flavor, reader thinks joon has a dead wife for like one second 💀 mentions of teenage pregnancy and co-parenting, one incredibly stupid asshole customer lmao, mint choco slander (it's what namjoon would want 😌), obviously there is an employee/boss power dynamic but they talk about it and figure it out because this is namjoon and he overthinks everything, namjoon driving (he's a dad i have to assume he would get his license if he had a literal child!!!!!!!!) and a lotta sentimental holiday and life talk. here are ur sex specific warnings: making out/going to second base in a car in a parking lot (what is it with my namjoons and cars in parking lots yo), fingering, semi-drunk sex, and fuckin' rawwwww with a smidge of size and breeding kink lmao (but she's on the pill!!! no more kids!!!!!!)

A/N: hello hello hi merry crisis this damn fic is finally here lmao~ as i have been babbling on about for days i really really (REALLY) love how this namjoon turned out he's just hesjkrgdhtgk such a fucking himbo but a good dad and wise and did i mention hot aaaaaa 🫠 all the love in my gay little heart to @goodsoop for their barista wisdom and real life experiences that went into this one (the cookie story will never not make me laugh) ! and to @sailoryooons for beta reading this 50 million times and encouraging me when i was convinced it sucked ass, and also for making all the gorgeous banners for this collab 😭

which btw - be sure to go check out @gimmethatagustd & @sailoryooons & @nabiolive 's fics tooooo !!! i've loved collabing with them so very much even when we were all hashtag Going Through It, we got the whole damn hyung line you hear meeeeee 🎁🎁🎁🎁

read on AO3!

Rudely awoken by the incessant beep of your alarm, you open your eyes to find Nick Jonas staring back at you, and you sit up with a scream.

Realization washes over your sleep-addled brain in waves: first, that you aren’t actually staring at a real person. He’s just smizing on a hot pink poster, held up by some remarkably durable masking tape you stuck to the wall fifteen years ago. Second, it comes back to you that you are staring at said poster because you’ve woken up in your childhood bedroom. It’s been left untouched since you were a teenager, like a weird time capsule of all your high school obsessions.

After reaching for your phone to silence the alarm, you kick your way out from under the blankets, trying not to make eye contact with Nick, or Justin, or Zayn as you stumble to the bathroom. The circumstances of your grand return to living in your goddamn parents’ house linger like a bad taste in your mouth, one that all the tongue brushing in the world can’t remove.

It still doesn’t feel real. Taehyung, your best friend in the world since freshman year of college, kicked you out. Sure, it may have been phrased more like a gentle request, but as far as your ego is concerned, it still feels like exile. Banishment, even. The person you thought you could never be parted from made his choice, and he chose his fucking boyfriend over you.

Jungkook. You think the name with all the venom your cold, dead heart can manage as you spit toothpaste into the sink.

Jungkook, the weird, bug-eyed kid who put his toe-socked feet on your couch, drank his banana milk out of your favorite mug, and ate up all of your Samyang ramyeon because he ‘thought it was communal’.

Jungkook, who ruined your sleep schedule nightly, either by fucking Taehyung senseless on the other side of your paper-thin apartment wall, or by blasting the same four Ariana Grande songs over and over on his bluetooth speaker and singing along in an annoyingly good voice. Either activity would go on well into the early hours of the morning, until you had to bang on the wall so hard you nearly put your fist through it.

Jungkook, whose dog once took a shit right on the floor in the middle of the kitchen.

Bam was cute enough to forgive, of course. But you can never forgive Taehyung for his betrayal. Especially when he knew you’d just been fired from your shitty coffee shop job for the stupidest reason ever, and he didn’t let that derail or even delay him. He still went ahead and delivered the killing blow.

Et tu, Taehyung? you think angrily to yourself as you stand in front of the suitcase containing as much of your closet as you could possibly fit. You still need to go back for your bigger furniture, and little things like your plates and your mugs and your silverware, which Jungkook is probably putting his grimy little fingers all over at this very moment. But until you’ve checked out of your indefinite vacation at the Nightmare Parental Hotel, there doesn’t really seem a point.

If you were less upset, you might take consolation in the fact that your parents aren’t actually here, that they’ve jaunted off to their timeshare until the new year, but you’re busy being too swallowed whole by your misery to find an ounce of joy in any piece of your current reality.

You dig through the pile of clothes until you manage to pull out something halfway decent. The first order of business now that you’ve moved back in is simple: acquire another stupid coffee shop job. You have no plans to stick around long, you just need something seasonal that will give you some meager income while you start looking for a real gig, one that is ideally not in your hometown.

Watching yourself in the mirror as you pull on a simple black blouse and your least-stained pair of jeans, you attempt to mentally dust off your interview skills. You conjure up your best fake smile and customer service voice, both of which are second-nature at this point.

Why do you want this job? “I’m just so passionate about coming home sticky and verbally abused by caffeine-addicted assholes every night.”

What’s your biggest weakness? “Clearly it’s the fact that I’m a ray of fucking sunshine.”

Why were you terminated from your last job? “Oh, well, I attempted to get my previous employer to improve their standards of worker treatment. You see, I selfishly requested that they raise the bar a single notch above hell. Certainly won’t happen again!”

This should go well, you tell yourself, and your reflection grimaces back.

With several hours to kill before your job interview and a growing desire to avoid the weird nostalgia of your childhood that seems to lurk in every corner of your parents’ house, you decide to take a walk.

The sky is bright blue and cloudless, and though the air is brisk, it isn’t terribly windy. You tuck in your earbuds as you shut the front door behind you and pick a direction, aimless, letting your mind wander to the soundtrack of your “seasonal depression” playlist.

A whole new crop of families must have moved into your parents’ neighborhood in the years since you moved out, because the streets are more alive with kids than you can ever remember them being, even when you were a kid yourself. Bikes and scooters lay abandoned on the sidewalks between homes, and you can hear the repeated echo of a basketball dribbling on a driveway, punctuated by distant, playful screaming.

Even in the daytime, you can tell these families have spared no expense when it comes to Christmas decor: some homes have every eave outlined in string lights, some have candy cane stakes dug into the perimeter of their perfectly manicured lawns, and some have been seemingly invaded by small armies of inflatable reindeer and snowmen. You can’t help but giggle a little at the inflatable decorations that have been set to turn off during the day, the way the airless material lays limp in the grass, giving the impression of a yard strewn with dead bodies.

But you remember what it looked like when you drove in last night, everything lit up and brought to life.

Your parents definitely didn’t have inflatable lawn decorations when you were a kid, but you’d get so excited every year when your dad would drag the ladder out and spend the day stringing up the simple rainbow lights you did have. You still remember the little spark of joy you’d feel in your chest when the colors would click on after dark, the way you would run outside every night just to see them twinkle, your breath puffing steam clouds in the air, your bare feet freezing on the ice-cold driveway.

It felt like magic then. But somewhere along the way you grew up. And now that feeling’s gone. Even at night, the lights just look like… lights.

Distracted as you are by the music in your ears and thoughts of your childhood that have brought you to a standstill on the sidewalk, you don’t notice what’s happening until it’s too late.

A blur of red and white is suddenly circling around and between your legs, and you feel something twining over your ankles, then tugging with a force that threatens to knock you off balance. As you lean forward in an attempt to right yourself, the chaos in question slows enough for you to realize it’s a fluffy white dog in a red sweater, who has excitedly tangled you up in his leash.

You manage to find the looped end of the leash and slowly get yourself unwrapped while the dog continues to pant and jump and occasionally yap at you. With your legs freed, you squat down for a proper greeting, laughing to yourself as he lifts up on his hind legs, balancing his paws on your knee to lick an enthusiastic greeting across your cheek.

“Hi, puppy,” you murmur, trying to get him to hold still long enough to read the name on his tag. A voice beats you to it.

“Moni!”

When you glance up to find Moni’s owner jogging up the sidewalk, you have to make a conscious effort to keep your own tongue in your mouth, because good lord, he is fine.

He’s tall, towering over you even once you bring yourself back up to standing, and the black workout tank and athletic shorts he’s wearing do absolutely nothing to hide the thick, well-defined muscles of his arms, chest, and thighs.

Despite his lack of clothing in the cool winter air, you can see his face and neck are slick with sweat, his white-blonde hair damp with it too. There’s even a dark patch that’s soaked his shirt at his sternum, making the firm swell of his pecs that much more apparent. It takes you an extra second to break eye contact with them, but when you do finally manage to drag your gaze up to meet his, you realize his face is just as nice of a view: honey-tan skin, full lips, and cute dimples that pop as he gives a sheepish, appreciative laugh.

“Thank you,” he says, a little breathless; his voice is deep and slightly husky in a way that makes your face grow hot. You blink stupidly at him for a few moments, your mind reeling, and then it occurs to you that you still have his dog’s leash in your hand.

“No problem,” you manage, handing the looped end back over and double-checking to make sure your ankles are still free from their entanglement. Though now that this man is holding the leash, you kind of wish they weren’t.

“Moni’s usually good about not taking off when I stop to do a circuit,” he explains, like you’re the dog owner police. It makes you wonder what kind of Karens must have moved into this neighborhood since you left it. “I don’t know why he ran, maybe he saw a squirrel or something.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him with a smile, admiring Moni as he stretches and settles into a polite seated pose. “I like his sweater.”

“Thanks,” he laughs again. “C’mon Mon.”

You can’t help focusing on how big this guy’s hands are as he slips his fingers through the end of Moni’s leash, tugging slightly as if to encourage the dog back in the direction he came from.

Moni blinks and stays right where he is.

“You little shit,” his owner huffs under his breath, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip to keep from laughing. You distantly realize you should probably leave them to it and continue on your walk, but this is too entertaining to turn away from now. Your hot neighbor tries one more futile attempt to get Moni to move, then seems to give up entirely.

He stoops down with a low grunt of effort that makes your core flutter as he grabs the fluffy dog and hoists him up in his arms. You try to force yourself to stop noticing the way his biceps flex, the fact that the muscles of his arms are nearly bigger than your head.

“Thanks again,” he says with a final grateful smile, and your only response is to swallow hard and stand there like an idiot as he turns and carries his spoiled dog back home.

When you arrive for your interview, you’re delighted to discover that Indigo Coffee is nothing like your last job. It’s warm and bright, with large picture windows that flood the space in sunlight, and there’s a cozy personal touch to it, the likes of which you’d certainly never see in your former corporate shell of a workplace. The sitting area is dotted with live edge wood tables and mismatched chairs. There are an array of framed paintings on the walls that look handmade in a good way, simple yet bold brush-stroke lines in a deep blue color scheme. And, you realize as your eyes linger, the shop is absolutely overflowing with plants: in simple clay pots lined up along the windows, free-standing between tables, and tucked into bookshelves placed artfully throughout the space.

You step closer to inspect one as you wait on your interviewer and are pleased to see that it’s real, that they all are— no waxy fake leaves jammed into a thick block of cement, but real greenery sprouted in real dirt, deep brown soil gone soft from what must have been a recent watering. These are plants someone cares for, coaxed and kept alive by someone’s time and patience and love. The thought makes you smile a little despite yourself.

There’s still fucking Christmas music playing, but you figure that’s inescapable this time of year.

“Are you here for the interview?” someone asks over your shoulder. As you turn away from the plant, you wonder if you’re imagining that the voice in question sounds slightly familiar, and then you find yourself once again staring up at a fine-ass man with white-blonde hair and a sweet pair of dimples.

He’s clearly showered since your last encounter, and is now slightly more covered up in a pair of faded jeans and a gray-green flannel thrown over a black shirt emblazoned with bold white lettering: Protect Trans Kids.

“Oh.” Moni’s owner blinks back at you, and the shock on his face is so apparent that a giggle escapes your lips before you can stop it. “Uh, hi again.”

“Hi,” you echo, equally flustered, before realizing you failed to answer his initial question. “Oh, yeah. Yes. I am. The interview. I’m— that’s me.” So well-spoken, you mentally kick yourself.

One dimple deepens slightly as he extends a hand. “Kim Namjoon. Owner of Indigo Coffee. And the world’s least obedient dog, as you saw earlier.”

You offer your best handshake in return and a smile that you surprisingly don’t have to force as you give Namjoon your name. He gestures to a table in the corner, and you each pull back a chair to have a seat. You try to banish any potential horny thoughts from your brain, but shifting into interview mode proves difficult as he rests his large hands on the table in front of him, drumming idly along to the horribly cheery music.

You manage to tear your gaze away from Namjoon’s fingers when he speaks again. “If it’s cool with you, we can just chat a little? I’m not so good at conducting formal interviews. Too inauthentic.”

It’s like you can feel some of the tension release from your shoulders. “I— yeah. That sounds great.”

“Cool,” he nods, and you try to ignore the rush of heat up your neck at the intensity of his stare. Professional, be professional. “So I saw on your resume that it looks like your last few jobs were out of town. Did you just move here?”

“Moved back,” you say quickly. “Yeah. I grew up here, actually.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen a little in clear interest. “Really? What brings you back?”

You purse your lips as you consider how to phrase it. “My life… kind of fell apart. So. I moved in with my parents for a bit. Like a winner.” His dimples pop when he smiles at your joke, and you drop your gaze to the table. “Just trying to figure out what’s next, and find something seasonal in the meantime.”

“Well, we could certainly use the help,” Namjoon admits. When you chance a glance up, there’s a look on his face like he’s choosing his next words carefully. “I saw in your application that you were terminated from your last position.” He leans in, lowering his voice slightly as he continues. “I’m gonna be honest, I hate that we even ask that question. But can you tell me a bit about what happened?”

You keep your stare fixed on the wood grain in front of you as you try to stay calm. “Well, if I can be honest too...” Squeezing your eyes shut, you tell yourself to just say it. “I was fired for trying to unionize.”

“Oh.” Namjoon sounds surprised, but you can’t manage to look at him. “Really?” You nod slowly, biting down on your bottom lip. “That’s— fucking illegal.”

That makes your gaze snap back up to meet his. His brow is furrowed slightly, a muscle in his jaw pulled tight.

“Yeah,” you say belatedly. “Yeah, I know. They made up a bunch of fake excuses as to why I was fired, but I knew what it really was. It was because I wanted them to actually pay us what we were worth, and hire more workers so we weren’t being scheduled to death. And I was getting everyone else riled up too, and I guess it scared them.”

Namjoon sits back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. “Huh. Man. Well, I’m sorry that happened to you.”

It takes you a second to process what you’re hearing. Union has always been a scary word for any person in upper management you’ve previously encountered. You hadn’t expected this to be so… easy. For him to understand, or sympathize. “I— yeah. I am too.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Namjoon continues quickly, “I think it’s great, what you tried to do. I’m very pro-union.” He pauses for a moment, his face twisting slightly in thought. “I mean, admittedly, we don’t have one here. Granted, there are only five of us. I should probably ask, though, if they want one.”

You can’t quite hide your smile. “I’m gonna take a guess that you probably treat your employees pretty well as-is.”

“I try,” he says with a shake of his head. His eyes meet yours again. “So, here’s the deal. You have a ton of experience, and with holiday time off and a few people out sick, I’m super understaffed right now. You seem like you have a good head on your shoulders, and hopefully you feel like you can come to me if you have any issues, without fearing retaliation.”

You blink slowly, and he must be able to read the disbelief on your face. “What I’m saying is I’m offering you the seasonal position,” he clarifies. “Is that— do you, uh, accept?”

“Yes.” The word is chased by a dazed laugh, and Namjoon’s dimples resurface around a small smile.

“Cool. I told you I’m bad at interviews,” he huffs, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck. You try to ignore the swell of his bicep, clearly visible even beneath his bulky flannel. “I know this is a lot to ask, but. Is there any chance you can start, like, right now? Because Jimin’s shift ends in…” He tilts a little, fishing his phone from the front pocket of his jeans, and his mouth drops open in surprise when he gets a glimpse at the time.

“Oh, shit,” Namjoon murmurs, and then he raises his voice to call across the mostly empty store. “Jimin-ah! I’m so sorry!”

You turn around, your gaze landing on the barista leaned up against the counter next to the register. His dyed-gray hair dusts over his eyes, which pull into crescent moons as he laughs. “It’s cool. I knew you were almost done. But I’m gonna clock out now, if she’s good?”

“Yeah,” you answer, turning back to Namjoon. “Yeah, I can start now.”

The two of you move behind the counter, and you sweep your hair up out of your face while Namjoon starts to go through a basic run-down of where everything is located. The overhead bell tinkles as Jimin shoulders the front door open, and he lifts a hand over his head in parting.

“See you after the holidays!”

“Alright,” Namjoon says as he waves to Jimin, a little breathless from having rambled on for the better part of several minutes. “That was a lot. Do you want to just start on register? I feel like that should be easy enough, and I can train you on everything as people come in, since it’s pretty dead right now.”

You shrug. “Works for me.”

Within half an hour, there’s a line out the door, and Namjoon has managed to spill espresso grounds all over his shoes for a second time.

“Ah, shit,” he groans, taking a step back. “Sorry. Been a minute since I’ve had to be back here.”

“It’s okay,” you try to reassure him, but you can see from the faces of the customers who have been waiting on their drinks for several minutes— including one who’s had hers remade three times, all of them incorrect— that it is very much not okay. You certainly lack the people skills to smooth over any of Namjoon’s mistakes, and you can feel a stress-induced eye twitch starting to flare up, brought on by Kelly Clarkson’s incessant yuletide belting.

You give your boss five more minutes, wherein he scalds his hand on the milk steamer, forgets about a cookie in the warmer until it’s burnt entirely black, and nearly turns the blender on with the lid off, before you finally intervene.

“Hey, Namjoon?” You do your best to keep your expression pleasant when he glances over at you, wiping at his brow with the back of his hand. “Maybe we should switch?”

“A-are you sure?” he stammers, apparently torn between wanting to be a good boss and a clear desire to just take the L. “I feel bad, this is literally your first shift.”

“I think I can handle it,” you reassure him, lowering your voice a little. “Let me take care of the drinks, and you can do your… endearing golden retriever thing. Keep the people entertained.”

Color blooms in the apples of his cheeks as his dimples make a brief appearance. “Oh, okay. Can do. Just let me know if you need help.”

You can’t imagine a universe where his clumsiness could in any way be considered helpful, but you keep that thought to yourself as you smile at him. At least he’s cute.

Things improve dramatically once your roles are reversed: as you expected, Namjoon is far more charismatic than he is coordinated, and he chats endlessly with the people waiting on their drinks, hardly pausing long enough to take a breath, while you scramble around trying to get your bearings in a new environment. The steady stream of customers doesn’t let up for the rest of the evening, until the last few finally trickle out of the store a few minutes after close, and you waste no time locking the door behind them with a sigh of relief.

You spin around, letting your back thud against the door for a moment as you watch Namjoon fight with a broom and dustpan in a futile attempt to get espresso dust out of the grout between the tiles. There’s a dull ache starting to thud in your skull, and it’s only deepened by the shrill opening notes of another fucking a cappella song.

“Namjoon?” you ask as you cross toward the counter, and his head instantly snaps up. “Do you think we could maybe turn off the Christmas music?”

“Oh, sure.” He’s already fumbling to grab his phone, and he taps a few buttons until the music suddenly switches, a soft voice starting to croon over an old school beat.

“Thanks,” you say, and you can’t help the pity smile that pulls up your mouth when he returns to his useless task. “I think the grout might be a lost cause, but I can go ahead and mop whenever you’re ready.”

He rights himself with a defeated sigh, nodding his head to the storage closet in the back. You follow his lead to retrieve the mop, then set about filling up the bucket with water and cleaning solution. Namjoon’s voice floats in from the front of the shop as he busies himself with his own closing tasks.

“Imagine smokin’ weed in the street without cops harassin’ / Imagine goin’ to court with no trial / Lifestyle cruisin’ blue Bahama waters / No welfare supporters, more conscious of the way we raise our daughters...”

You’re laughing a little as you roll the bucket out, starting at the door to work your way back. “Is this… Nas?”

He glances up, like he’s just remembered other people exist in the world. “Yeah, sorry. I can turn it off.”

“No, no,” you say quickly when he starts to reach for his phone again. “This is good. Much better than Pentatonix. I’m just… you really know every word.”

Namjoon shrugs, clearly embarrassed. “He’s my favorite.”

The revelation surprises you, and you pause to think as you pull the mop back and forth over the tile floor. It didn’t even occur to you that Namjoon would have a favorite kind of music, apart from the soft elevator muzak you imagine must play on a steady loop in his brain, given the way he fumbles through life.

“I actually wanted to be a rapper,” his voice comes back, and you look up again, your interest piqued. “When I was younger. But you know. Life had other plans.”

“Ah yes, the rapper to coffee shop owner pipeline,” you muse, and he barks a laugh that you wish you didn’t find so hot. Shaking your head, you force yourself to look back down at the espresso-studded tile, doing your best to shove your attraction aside and not think about it. He’s your boss, dumbass.

Still, it’s hard to ignore, particularly as he continues to rap along to each song that comes on, his voice deeper and huskier than you’ve heard it thus far in casual conversation. He doesn’t miss a word, and you can’t deny that it’s impressive. And sexy. Fuck.

Once the floor has been successfully mopped and everything else is put back together, you hop up onto the counter to wait for the tile to dry, and your gaze lingers over Namjoon’s large hands as he cashes out the register. He flips through the bills in time to the music, still humming under his breath as he goes, and you do your best to hold in your laugh when he inevitably loses count and has to start over from the beginning. Thankfully the second attempt sticks, and he smiles proudly to himself as he zips everything up into the deposit bag.

“First shift down,” he announces, as if you might have forgotten, and then his eyes find yours and you swear your breath gets stuck in your throat. “How do you feel?”

It only occurs to you now how close he’s standing to you, and with the way your legs are casually dangling over the edge of the counter, it wouldn’t take much for him to step between them. And god, he’s so damn tall, you’re practically eye-to-eye.

“Uh,” you manage, your mouth suddenly gone dry. “Good. I feel good.”

“That’s good,” he answers, his voice dipping into that throaty tone again. You find yourself wondering absentmindedly if maybe Namjoon has a customer service voice, too, and then for the briefest flash of a moment, his gaze flits from your eyes to your lips and back again. It’s so quick, you can’t be sure it even really happened.

You tell yourself it’s just your exhausted post-shift brain seeing things that aren’t there, wanting this fine-ass man to be into you, too.

A sudden bang on the front door makes you flinch so hard, you come dangerously close to kneeing Namjoon in the crotch. He takes a large step back as you whip around to look over your shoulder, only to see a kid’s face pressed to the glass, framed by two small hands. You’ve never been great at telling the age of children on sight, but this one looks like… maybe a middle schooler?

“Whose fucking kid is that?” you say automatically, blinking, dumbfounded. Namjoon’s laugh is a low rumble behind you.

“That would be mine.”

It takes several days for the shock to wear off. Your boss has a kid. Kim “could’ve burnt the building down with a single cookie” Namjoon is at least partially responsible for keeping another human being alive. Which means you have a crush… on a father.

A father who also happens to be your boss.

You try not to think about any of it.

There’d been brief introductions when you left the shop that first night, but all you’d really managed to glean was the kid’s name, Sol, and their pronouns. As someone who is historically terrible with children, you’d excused yourself the minute Namjoon locked the front door, after what felt like an eternity spent watching him pat each of his pockets twice before he finally managed to find his keys.

“I hope it wasn’t weird,” your boss says out of nowhere in the middle of your next shift, during a much-needed moment of peace after the morning rush. “For you to meet Sol like that. It’s just been hard, since their mom, uh…”

Namjoon trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished. You glance up, eyes widening as you put the pieces together.

“Oh my god,” you breathe. “I’m so sorry.”

His gaze meets yours, and it’s like you can see the wheels in his head turning before he catches up. “No, no,” he says quickly, and then he starts to laugh. “Wow, I really did not start that sentence well. She’s not dead. She just got married, and she’s on her honeymoon for most of December. The logistics have been hard, is what I meant.”

An embarrassed heat creeps up your neck, and your elbows thud against the countertop as you press your face into your hands, attempting to muffle your own laughter. “In my defense,” you groan, “you really made it sound like you had a dead wife.”

“Not dead! She’s fine!” Namjoon’s dimples are as prominent as you’ve ever seen them when you peek up at him from your full-body cringe. “Very much alive, very much not my wife.” The muscles in his arms flex as he crosses them over his chest, leaning up against the counter next to the register. “Never was, actually.”

“Really?” you answer automatically, your damned curiosity getting the better of you.

He nods, his voice a little more serious when he continues, rambling on in the way that you’ve already started to suspect is his default setting, talking as if to fill empty space. “We were seventeen when we got pregnant. I knew we were young then, but I don’t think I really realized. Now that I’m almost thirty, I know: seventeen is fucking young.”

The line of his jaw tightens, thoughtful, as his gaze sweeps over the floor. “I thought I wanted to marry her, or at least felt obligated to. Like it was the right thing to do, but. We didn’t have any money, and then it all got so hectic after Sol was born. Didn’t even take a year for us to realize it wasn’t gonna work, not for us.”

You blink, trying to take in all the new information. “That sounds really hard.”

“It was,” Namjoon admits. “But we were both on the same page about it. That no matter what, Sol had to come first.” He glances up with a shrug. “It’s all good now. She’s a great co-parent, and her new husband is really good for her. And… well, I have Indigo.”

The tinkling of the bell at the front door snaps you out of a daze, makes you realize you’ve been staring at him, dumbfounded. You do your best to shoot Namjoon a soft smile, and to ignore the pang in your chest as he turns to greet the customer that’s just wandered in, already starting to babble on about the weather.

You find yourself more grateful for Namjoon’s presence with each passing shift, in a way that you try to convince yourself is thoroughly platonic. Between fairly steady work and his very steady chatter, your time spent in the warm, sunny space of Indigo turns out to be a good distraction from your own miserable excuse for a life. The repetitive motions of making drink after drink are oddly comforting, and you have to admit, Namjoon really is good with the customers.

“Peppermint mocha to go.”

You do your best to follow up the sentence with a polite smile as you set a drink down for the customer who has done nothing but scowl at you the whole time you were making it. The silent prayer you’ve sent out to the universe that he’ll take whatever personal problem he has elsewhere and leave you alone has clearly gone unanswered.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he snaps, and you can feel your shoulders creep up towards your ears in anticipation of nothing good. Here we fucking go.

You blink twice, trying to keep your service persona engaged. “I’m sorry, is that not what you ordered?” It is, you know it is, you heard him say it.

“No, that’s mine,” the man quickly responds, reaching out to snatch the cup in a motion that makes you flinch. “But do you hear this fucking song?”

The honest answer is no: at this point the ever-present Christmas music might as well be white noise, so you have to make a conscious effort to tune back in and listen. It’s a few seconds, and then you pick up on the melody. “…Last Christmas?”

“Uh, yeah,” he continues, explaining like you’re stupid. “The original. Last Christmas by Wham!” When it’s clear you still aren’t putting the pieces together, he scoffs in pure frustration. “You just made me lose Whamageddon! I’ve won every year for the last five years, I can’t believe you would even put this on your fucking playlist!”

Your face pulls into an incredulous grimace before you can think to control it. “Uh, I’m sorry, but I didn’t make the—”

He cuts you off. “First off, I don’t need the fucking attitude. And surely you’re at least capable of checking what songs are on there, right? That’s not too advanced for you to handle?”

You didn’t even hear Namjoon walk up from the back office, but he’s suddenly stepping in front of you, and you’re more than glad to move back and let him handle this dude before you end up in jail. “Woah, woah, alright,” Namjoon interjects, his voice loud enough to carry. “What’s going on?”

The man beats you to it. “I’m trying to file a legitimate complaint and she’s rolling her fucking eyes and getting an attitude with me!”

“It’s the song,” you explain briefly, trying to keep everything about your expression neutral. “He’s mad that we’re… playing Wham.”

Namjoon’s face twists in an expression that you would find funny if you weren’t so fucking livid, one that you’re pretty sure is the mirror image of your own reaction minutes earlier. “The song? Seriously?”

You can see the guy scrambling, clearly starting to get embarrassed at his own dramatics. “Alright, I don’t have time for this. I guess I just need to take my business elsewhere, because this is ridiculous. What ever happened to the customer is always right?”

Namjoon goes silent for a minute, and you try to ignore the way the look on his face makes your pulse quicken, thudding brightly in the hollow of your neck. His voice is deadly serious when he speaks again. “I appreciate that you’re upset, but if you’re going to look my employee in the face, after she just performed a service for you, and disrespect her like that? Over a fucking song? Nah, I’m not gonna tolerate it. Maybe the next time you want someone to make you a toothpaste drink, you should take your ass to Starbucks.”

It takes every ounce of strength you have to keep the reaction off your face until the asshole has stormed out the front door, nasty drink in hand. As the bell finally tinkles to signal his departure, you collapse forward, just barely catching yourself on the counter so you don’t crumple straight down to the floor.

“Oh my god.” Your laugh of disbelief comes out more like a groan, at the ridiculous complaint and your boss’ insanely attractive comeback alike. “I fucking hate this time of year.”

“Hey.” The word is punctuated by Namjoon’s shoulder bumping into yours, and you look back up at him, still laughing a little at your own misery. His eyes search yours, sincere. “Assholes are assholes no matter what season it is. I’m sure that guy finds plenty of things to complain about the other eleven months of the year, too. Don’t let him ruin it for you.”

You can’t help rolling your eyes, if only because you can do it freely now, without a man standing over you and yelling about your ‘bad attitude’. “I guess,” you huff. “And thank you.”

Namjoon shakes his head, like it’s nothing. “Chin up, okay?”

The two of you breeze through closing that night, familiar enough to fall into a steady routine now. You’re wiping everything down behind the counter and humming along to Tupac when Namjoon’s voice drags you back out of your thoughts in a way you’ve already grown accustomed to.

“You know…”

You glance up, only to realize that he’s started to flip chairs on top of tables to clear the floor, and is grabbing them two at a time, one in each hand. The image makes you a little dizzy, and you tell yourself to focus on his words, not his biceps.

“I think we make a pretty good team,” he concludes.

“Yeah,” you breathe, trying to keep your composure at the unexpected compliment. “I was thinking the same thing. And thanks again for, you know. Handling that guy.”

Namjoon shrugs, like it’s nothing. “Hey, you’re doing me a favor, taking this seasonal job. I’m not about to let anyone fuck with you.”

You bite down on a smile as you head towards the back to grab the mop, and then you hear a loud bang on the front door— it’s another sound you’ve gotten used to in your brief time at Indigo. There’s the click of the deadbolt, chased by the tinkling overhead bell and Namjoon’s chiding voice. “Homie, if you break my door I’m gonna make you get a job to pay me back for it.”

“You think I don’t know about child labor laws?” you hear Sol retort, clearly not intimidated, and the attitude in their voice has you biting back a laugh.

Wheeling the mop bucket out of the storage closet, you glance up to see Namjoon jut his chin toward the large front window, indicating Sol to take a seat on the ledge. “Feet off the floor, she’s tryna clean.”

Sol complies, plopping down in the window with their eyes glued to their phone as Namjoon disappears back toward the office to grab his things. You watch as Sol pulls their knees into their chest so their chunky black boots clear the tile, and you can’t help noticing that said boots are adorned with oversized silver bat-shaped buckles, reflecting the amber streetlight gleam that leaks through the window.

“I like your boots,” you say, more to yourself than Sol, half expecting them to be so engrossed in TikTok that they don’t even hear you.

But to your surprise, Sol looks up.

“Thanks,” they say, glancing at their feet. “I just got them. I’m in my post-hardcore era right now.”

The statement is delivered without a trace of irony, and you do your best to hold in another amused giggle as you respond. “Wow, you are… so much cooler than I was when I was your age.”

Sol seems to consider this for a moment, then shrugs. “I mean, you didn’t have the internet back then, right?”

The question hits you like a train, and you have to pause and press a hand over your heart at the impact. “Okay, ouch, I’m not that old.” They grimace apologetically, and you lean up against the mop handle in thought. “But the internet definitely wasn’t like it is now. The only social media that really existed was Myspace, and my parents wouldn’t let me make one. I mostly just used the internet to, like, play RuneScape.”

“Oh shit,” Sol remarks, sounding remarkably like Namjoon in the process. “You played old school?!”

It’s like you can feel your bones crumbling to dust inside your body, and you wince as you resume dragging the mop over the tile. “Hey, back then it was the only kind of RuneScape we had. But yes, you can consider me a… founding father of that game.”

“That’s cool!” they exclaim, sounding so genuine it makes your head spin. When did RuneScape become cool again? “My friends and I play old school all the time. It’s the best, for real.”

You shake your head in disbelief as you continue to mop, and a long pause settles between you, with Sol’s interest clearly returning to their phone.

Fuck, you think to yourself, what else do kids even talk about? Marvel movies? It’s like your mind has gone totally blank, unable to conjure up a single topic of conversation, and you practically huff out an audible sigh of relief when their voice breaks the silence again.

“I think my dad has been happier since you started working here.”

The mop nearly slips out of your hands entirely, and you glance up, eyes wide. “I— really?”

Sol nods, playing absentmindedly with the strings of their black hoodie, then bringing the end of one up to their mouth to gently chew on. “It’s a theory I have. A game theory. I plan to ask additional follow-up questions tonight.”

At this, you can’t help but laugh. “Well, I’m sure your investigation will be very thorough.”

There’s a flash of a dimple in Sol’s cheek, like the mirror image of their dad. “I can tell you what he says, if you want.”

You wonder how telling your own smile is. “I mean… I can’t say I’m not curious.” You’re distantly aware of the sound of the office door closing, chased by Joon whistling to himself, and you lower your voice conspiratorially as you drop the mop back into the bucket. “I look forward to hearing what you find out.”

Monday morning, when you wake up to the omnipresent smize of Nick Jonas, you can’t help smiling back.

You made it through your first week of work, and it wasn’t even that torturous. And best of all, Namjoon reminded you the night before that Indigo is closed on Mondays, which gives you an entire day to spend as you please. A real day off, which was truly unheard of at your last job, where you’d spend your non-scheduled days still anticipating an incoming emergency text asking you to cover a shift last-minute. More often than not, you’d end up working after all.

“But not today,” you announce to Nick.

A grand plan has already started to form in your head, one that involves a party size bag of Hot Cheetos and all eight episodes of The Fabulous, and yet. There’s a lingering urge at the back of your brain that you can’t quite ignore. With all the day-off energy you can muster, you drag yourself out of bed and tug on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, then shuffle into the bathroom to at least make yourself halfway decent.

You’re just going for a quick walk around the block to get some fresh air, you tell yourself. That’s all. Certainly no other reason.

It’s only a few minutes after you step out your front door that a fluffy white blur nearly collides with your shins, and when you stoop down to lift Moni into your arms, you once again can’t keep the smile off your face. Huh, who could’ve seen this coming?

But when you glance up, there’s no hot buff man jogging up the sidewalk after his dog. In fact, you realize as you look back at the ball of fluff in your arms, he isn’t wearing a leash or harness at all, just another cute sweater.

“Are you even supposed to be out here?” you ask Moni. His only answer is to drag his tongue up the side of your face.

You shift him a little in your arms so you can fumble for the tag attached to his collar, and thankfully, there’s an address listed. It takes you a second to get your bearings in the neighborhood, having not lived here for close to a decade, but it eventually comes back to you where the listed street is, and you start to walk. Moni is already blinking sleepily in your arms, clearly enjoying his preferred mode of transportation.

A laugh bubbles up in your chest as you approach the house in question— even if you hadn’t had Moni’s tag to guide you, finding his home would’ve been easy enough as soon as you passed this street, because you can hear old school hip-hop bumping through a speaker despite still being several houses down the block. You suppose Namjoon can get away with it during the day, when all the neighborhood kids are still in school.

As you make your way up the driveway, you realize the music is actually coming from behind the house, and when you follow the path that leads around back, you spot the culprit: a simple wooden-slat fence surrounds the yard, and the gate has been left wide open.

Before you can even make it over the threshold, a familiar voice reaches your ears, sounding much closer than the music. “Ah, shit.”

Namjoon comes barreling through the open gate so fast he practically runs you over, and Moni yaps, like he’s annoyed at being jostled as you quickly try to stumble out of his owner’s path.

“Oh. Uh, hi.”

You wonder if you’ll ever be able to take in how shock looks on Namjoon’s features without giggling a little. Today is certainly not that day. It’s just so endearing, the way his eyes widen and his mouth pulls into a perfect o-shape.

“Hi,” you breathe out around your laughter, trying to ignore the heat that flushes into your face when his dimples appear in return. “I think I found something that belongs to you.”

With a wave of his hand and several profuse thank yous, you follow Namjoon back through the gate, and wait until he firmly shuts it behind you before letting Moni down to trot off across the yard. It’s only now that you take Namjoon in properly: he’s in a gray hoodie under a pair of denim overalls, both of which are splattered artfully with paint in a variety of colors.

“I was just in my studio,” he explains, tipping his head toward the small shed in the yard, which you quickly realize is also the source of the music that led you here. “Doin’ some art. Do you, uh… wanna see?”

“Yeah, okay,” you answer with a nod.

“Fair warning, I’m really bad at it,” he calls over his shoulder as he leads you in the open studio door, raising his voice to be heard over the music. He reaches for his phone, propped up in the windowsill, to turn the volume down a few notches.

There’s an easel up against the far wall holding what must be his current project, a half-finished scene that you realize upon closer inspection is thousands of tiny dots of color, painstakingly blotted onto the canvas to form a mountain landscape at a distance. A few more pieces that he’s already completed have been leaned up against another wall to dry, one featuring an abstract array of featherlight brushstrokes, and another where the paint’s been globbed on in thick layers.

Namjoon is talking a mile a minute as you inspect the canvases. “I thought maybe I’d do cyanotypes today, but it’s not sunny enough, and I’ve made that mistake before. I’m really into texture right now, so I’m trying out some different techniques with paint. I want to get better at pointillism, but it’s a lot harder than you’d think it would be. ‘Cause it’s just dots, right? But you have to be able to see the forest for the trees, too.”

“These are amazing,” you finally manage to murmur, and to your surprise, the compliment actually renders him silent. When you turn back over your shoulder to look at him, he’s glancing down, almost like he’s embarrassed.

“Thanks. But I just do it for fun. ‘Cause I love art.”

“I can tell,” you say, and when he looks up, you offer him a smile you hope reads as encouraging. “Did you make the art at work, too?”

He nods, still sheepish, and that answer also surprises you. You recall thinking on your first day that the paintings hung on the walls looked handmade, but it never crossed your mind that they might have been made by Namjoon’s hands. Maybe because you’ve grown so accustomed to seeing him drop and break things, you haven’t ever considered him as also capable of… creation.

And yet, here he is. Proving you wrong.

“Sorry,” Namjoon’s voice makes you refocus on him, and your brow furrows in confusion at the unexpected apology. “This is literally your one day away from me and here I am, taking up your time. Thanks again for bringing Moni back.”

“It’s okay.” You shrug. “Don’t have much going on today, honestly. I never really know what to do with myself when I’m not working. Which I’m aware is very sad.”

“Well, uh,” Namjoon starts, and when he takes a single step closer, you swear you feel something flutter in your stomach— or maybe lower. “Sol’s got a half-day today, since it’s the last day before break, so I’m picking them up in a bit. And we were gonna go on a hike, probably take Moni too. You’re welcome to join us, if you’d like?”

Your eyes widen at the invitation. “Oh. That sounds great. I mean, if you’re sure I wouldn’t be intruding?”

He shakes his head, the corner of his mouth pulling up just so. “Nah. I actually think Sol really likes you. At least, they wouldn’t stop asking questions about you at dinner last night.”

“Is that right?” You do your best to keep your expression neutral.

Namjoon drives far enough north that there’s actually snow on the ground when you climb out of his front seat. You shove your hands into the pockets of your jacket as you follow him across the gravel parking lot towards the trailhead, a few paces behind Sol and Moni.

Sol shoots an expression of pure mischief at you over their shoulder, and then immediately starts to sprint up the marked path through the woods, Moni easily keeping up.

“Bye, nerds!” you hear them call before they disappear between the trees.

“Stay on the trail!” Namjoon shouts back, sounding as dad-like as you’ve ever heard him, and you can’t help but laugh. The two of you quicken your steps slightly to not fall too far behind, tracking the set of boot and paw-prints they’ve left to mark their trail.

For a moment, it’s silent between you, save the crunching of snow underfoot. It’s nice, being out in nature like this, time spent with Namjoon where you aren’t suffering through Christmas music and ungrateful customers. Where you can just… breathe. It makes you feel a little less sorry for yourself, a little less fixated on your own miserable life.

You glance over at him as that strange seasonal melancholy starts to settle into your bones again. “Are the holidays… better? With a kid?”

Namjoon makes a face, like he’s surprised by the question. “I mean, they’re definitely different. Then again, it’s been a long time since I did the holidays without a kid— not since I was a kid myself. What do you mean by better?”

Self-consciousness washes over you, your gaze drifting down to the path beneath your feet. “I don’t know, there’s just… I can’t shake this weird feeling now that I’m back home. This time of year used to be so exciting for me when I was Sol’s age. Everything felt special. Magical. But now I’m back here, and nothing’s really changed, except me. But I just keep feeling like the magic is gone. It’s… sad.”

He nods, taking a moment before he responds, and he’s chuckling softly to himself when he finally does. “You know, it’s kinda funny. When Sol was younger I actually felt a lot of stress this time of year. I couldn’t really enjoy it, because I was too busy trying to make sure that they had the best holiday I could possibly give them. That they didn’t feel like they were getting any less, since, you know. Their mom and I aren’t together. It’s funny that you bring up the magic, because I put a lot of pressure on myself to make that magic happen. But now that they’re a little older, I don’t know, it’s different.”

“Different how?” you prompt.

A dimple deepens as he hesitates. “It’s gonna sound corny. But really, I realized that the holidays aren’t about the gifts, or the decorations, or every little thing going perfect. You can make yourself sick over that shit, and I did, but kids don’t really care about it.” He pauses, and for a second you think that might be it, but then he keeps going, eyes fixed on the towering pine trees ahead of you.

“The year I opened Indigo, I had sank so much fucking money into it that I was broke. Broke broke. I couldn’t afford a single gift, a tree, not even a turkey. Sol and I sat on the floor of my shitty apartment and ate Chapagetti and watched Friends. And I felt like the biggest fucking failure imaginable. And then you know what happened?”

“What?”

“Sol turned to me, and they said, ‘This is the best Christmas ever, because we get to hang out, just the two of us.’” He blinks a few times, like he’s trying to ward off tears, and his voice comes back slightly less steady than before. “I still don’t know if they said that because they really meant it, or if they could just tell that I needed to hear it. But either way, I thought to myself: how fucking lucky am I, to have such a great kid? Like what did I ever do to deserve them? I still feel that way.”

Namjoon shrugs, as if to shake off the emotion. “I don’t know. Maybe that’s not helpful to you, but. I just see it differently now. It’s not about the what, or the how. It’s about the who. Spending this time of year with the people you care about, and making sure they know you do. That’s the real magic.”

You realize the trail has carried you up the sloping hillside, and is now flattening out at the edge of a clearing, where you can see Moni chasing Sol through the snow, can hear their high-pitched laughter ringing out in the wide-open air.

When you turn back to Namjoon, he’s already looking at you.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel the magic right now. I didn’t either, for a long time. But it does come back, I believe that. It’ll come back for you, too.”

You blink up at him, overwhelmed by his willingness to be so honest, and by the wisdom of his words. “I— thank you,” you finally manage to say.

Namjoon doesn’t answer, just glances up to where Sol and Moni are still playing, and your gaze follows his out over the snow-covered field. Sol is dusting off a sizable stick, and they call out for Moni to fetch before launching it into a dramatic arc, high up in the air.

Moni watches it go, entirely disinterested, then settles onto his haunches in the snow with a yawn.

“You’re so bad at being a dog!” Sol shouts, and that’s enough to make you and Namjoon both dissolve into laughter. They look up at the sound, hands-on-hips, before yelling again, this time in your direction. “My dad said he has a crush on you!”

Your jaw drops open, and Namjoon’s eyes are wide as you’ve ever seen them when you look up at him.

“Damn, dude, you said you were gonna be chill about it!” he exclaims, and you press a hand to your mouth as a fresh wave of giggles overtakes you. Given how long Namjoon’s legs are, it only takes him a few strides to catch up to Sol. You stay a tentative distance behind him, but still close enough to be able to make out their conversation.

“Uncle Hobi says you need to be bolder with women,” Sol chides, matter-of-fact.

“Uncle Hobi says a lot of shit,” Namjoon mutters under his breath.

“He painted my nails,” Sol raises their voice, clearly talking more to you than to their dad, and holds up a hand for you to see, waggling their fingers proudly.

“They look great,” you call out in response.

Namjoon turns back to you as you step in closer, then juts his chin to a bench at the other side of the clearing. “Sit with me for a sec?”

With a nod, you follow him over, and he wipes the metal surface free of snow with his sleeve before gesturing for you to have a seat. For a moment, the two of you sit silently and watch Sol, who is already busying themself with building a snowperson while Moni slow-blinks encouragingly from a distance.

Namjoon’s words chase a heavy sigh. “I’m gonna be real with you, despite the fact that my child just stole my thunder. I like you a lot.”

Your heart swells in your chest, threatening to burst. “I-I like you too,” you stammer back immediately. “Have definitely been harboring my own crush… basically since I started working at Indigo.”

When you turn to look at him, it surprises you a little that he isn’t smiling. You can see a muscle working in his jaw, like he’s nervous.

“That’s the thing,” he finally relents. “Work. I don’t— I hadn’t really planned to tell you how I was feeling, or act on it. Because I’m your boss, and that means, you know. There’s a power dynamic there. And it would be… unethical of me to blur the lines like that, by getting involved with my employee. I wanted you to come out with us today because it was a chance for you and I to be equals, outside of work, but it’s not like that dynamic just goes away, you know? And I feel a little guilty about it now. Because I really like being around you so much, but I just. We can’t. It wouldn’t be right. Not while you’re working for me.”

You stare down at the snow under your boots as you take in his words, and you can’t help it. Try as you might to sit there and take his worries seriously, laughter flutters out of you before you can hold it in.

“What?” Namjoon asks, and you shake your head, trying to compose yourself.

“I really, really appreciate that you gave it so much thought,” you say, willing your voice to stay even. “I mean it.”

“It’s weighed really heavy on me, if I’m honest,” he says solemnly, and you glance over to see him staring into the middle distance, like he’s deep in contemplation.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching out to where his hand rests on the bench between you and covering it with your own.

“Namjoon?” you ask softly, and it seems to snap him out of his trance enough to look back at you.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way,” you preface. “But if I have to choose between you and my stupid seasonal coffee shop job?” The smile starts to flicker over your face again. “Then I quit. I quit right now.”

“Oh thank god,” Namjoon breathes, and you can only make a soft noise of surprise when all at once, he takes your face in his hands and kisses you. You need a split second for the shock to wear off, and then you’re moving your mouth against his, one hand fisting tight in the fabric of his jacket. His lips are full and warm, and it feels like far too soon that he’s pulling back again, his cheeks flushed with color.

“Will you, uh—” he pauses, like he’s remembering how to form a sentence. “Will you still work tomorrow though? Jimin’s back after Christmas, but I really don’t think I can survive a shift on my own.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, still a little breathless from his kiss. “Yeah, I think you’d burn the place down.”

Unable to deny the claim, he laughs brightly as you untangle from each other, then gets to his feet before offering a hand to help you up. “We should head out, it’s gonna get dark soon.”

It’s true: across the wide clearing you can already see the sun threatening to sink back down between the trees, casting a golden-pink light that gleams off the snow and paints the world in warmth.

Sol leads the way back through the woods to the car, tugging Moni along by their leash, while you and Namjoon bring up the rear. You glance over at him a few times to catch him staring, and you scrape your teeth across your bottom lip, unable to keep the smile off your face, unable to stop yourself from mentally replaying the moment when he kissed you, over and over.

Just as you step under the shadow of a large tree, snow-covered branches stretching up toward the clear sky above you, Namjoon stops in the path. It’s so abrupt that you continue a few more paces before you even realize, and then you stop, too, glancing back towards him.

“Hey Sol,” Namjoon calls. “Think you and Moni can make it all the way back to the car in ten seconds?”

“I know what you’re doing,” comes Sol’s cheeky reply, but when Namjoon starts counting backwards from ten, you can hear the crunch of their boots taking off down the path.

“Eight, seven, six…” You watch as Namjoon cranes his neck until he deems Sol far enough out of sight, taking a step toward you as his counting trails off, and you find yourself pulled into him like a magnet. “Come here,” he murmurs, and then his hands are slipping up your waist and guiding you backwards until your back hits the trunk of the tree.

In true Namjoon fashion, he uses way more strength than is necessary for the task, and though your winter jacket cushions you from the impact, you’re smacked against the bark so hard that it knocks a dusting of snow off the branches above you, covering you both in flakes that stick to your hair and eyelashes. The sudden rush of cold makes you gasp into Namjoon’s mouth, but then he’s rolling his tongue over yours and you can’t think about anything else. A heavy pulse has started to thud between your legs at the heat of his breath in your mouth, the way his hips have you pinned to the tree, his body big enough to cover yours entirely.

“Joon,” you find the air to breathe as his lips trail hungrily down the slope of your neck. You rake a hand through his hair, white-blonde strands studded with snow, to try and pull his attention back, despite very much not wanting him to stop. “Joon, we should go. Before someone steals your kid.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs against your skin, and then his mouth is on yours again for one more kiss, like he can’t get enough. “Okay,” he finally grunts as he pulls away, sounding as begrudgingly responsible as you feel. Your head is still spinning; you want nothing more than to stay here and let him kiss you dizzy.

“Let’s go.”

He takes a step back so you can right yourself, reaching out to dust some snow off your jacket, and then the two of you resume walking up the path, sharing a breathless laugh like confidantes. You assume it’s just his standard clumsiness when Namjoon’s hand knocks into yours, but then his fingers are twining through yours purposefully, until you’re pressed palm to palm.

The rush of heat that blooms in your chest at his touch keeps you warm the rest of the way to the car.

Your last shift at Indigo somehow manages to feel exactly like every shift that’s come before it and completely new at the same time.

The work is the same, the steady stream of customers unchanged, the Christmas music still an aggravating soundtrack. But you no longer feel like you have to ignore the butterflies that flutter in your stomach when Namjoon asks you a question, or meets your gaze across the shop.

The only urges you have to suppress are indecent ones, made worse by Namjoon seemingly taking advantage of every opportunity to touch you: hip-checking you when you’re both standing at the front counter, pressing a hand to the small of your back whenever he has to squeeze behind you, leaning in a little closer than necessary to be heard over the noise of the milk steamer. It’s enough to make your breath hitch each time, and you can’t help but wonder if he feels the same relief at not having to hold back anymore.

Towards the end of the night, it surprises you when the typically consistent flow of customers starts to slow down, until it seems to have ceased entirely. You still have two hours to go, but you find yourself staring at the walls, every table empty, having done all the side work you can think of to distract yourself from boredom.

The sound of the front door’s lock clicking shut makes you glance up, only to see Namjoon flipping the open sign over.

“What are you doing?” you ask, blinking dumbfounded, and he looks over his shoulder at you with a shrug.

“It’s Christmas Eve Eve, and I’m the owner, so. We’re closing early. Effective immediately.” The decree makes you laugh a little, and his dimples wink back. “Let’s finish cleaning, I wanna show you something.”

In record time, you find yourself standing outside the front door of Indigo as Namjoon locks up, only tonight your hands are kept warm by the hot chocolates he’d made for the two of you as you closed. He takes his cup back once his hands are free, and you try a tentative sip from yours, now cool enough to drink without burning your mouth. Given what you witnessed of his barista abilities on your first day, you brace yourself for the worst, but your eyes widen in pleasant surprise when the liquid hits your tongue.

“Being a dad means getting really good at a few specific things,” he says by way of explanation as he unlocks his car doors, and you smile as you slip into the passenger seat.

It occurs to you as Namjoon starts to drive that you don’t actually know where he’s taking you, but when you open your mouth to ask at the next red light, he leans over you to fumble open the glovebox and you lose your train of thought. He fishes inside for a few seconds before retrieving a CD case, then makes quick work of prying it open and sliding the disc into the slot on the dash. You attempt to hide your giggle behind the rim of your cup.

“No wonder you like ‘90s music so much. You’re still living there,” you say, nodding to his antiquated stereo, and he smirks as he turns up the volume.

“This is A Tribe Called Quest,” he remarks, quirking an eyebrow when he looks back at you. “You better show some respect.”

“Yes, sir,” you tease in response, and you don’t miss the color that flushes his cheeks.

The light turns green and he accelerates through the intersection, one hand on the steering wheel, the other reaching across the center console to grip playfully at your leg, a few inches above your knee. You can see his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek, like he’s considering saying something, but when he finally opens his mouth, it’s just to rap along to the music.

It’s only a few songs later that he’s turning off the main road and following a barely-lit gravel path up to a large grassy parking lot, where he pulls into a space and kills the engine. You squint through the windshield, tucking your now-empty drink into the cupholder, but you can’t make out much except dusk and some vague lights over a hill in the distance.

“Was this crush thing just a ploy to murder me?” you quip, and Namjoon looks a little nervous when you glance over, like he took the question to heart. “I’m kidding,” you clarify quickly.

His voice comes out surprisingly soft. “This is one of my favorite things to do during the holidays. Thought it might help with, you know. The magic.”

Something cracks open inside you as you look back at him. “That’s… really sweet.”

“Ah,” he says, as if to dismiss the compliment. “You haven’t seen it yet. Maybe you’ll hate it. Come on.”

The two of you climb out of his car to start your trek to whatever he has in store, heading in the direction of the lights, and Namjoon’s hand slips into yours, like it’s already second nature. Easy and sweet. You grip tight to him, the night air colder now than it was when you left work, but then you finally crest over the hill, and the temperature is suddenly the furthest thing from your mind.

It takes you a moment to even understand what you’re looking at. The place is clearly some kind of arboretum, as the path ahead of you snakes through a perfectly manicured garden of various plants, but the only thing you can focus on are the lights. Every tree, bush, shrub, and other kind of greenery that lines the walkway has been intricately strung up with lights, each one boasting a different hue. The end result is nothing short of dazzling— a veritable rainbow of light and life and color, glittering diamond-bright against the deep-set night around you.

“Namjoon,” you breathe. “This is beautiful.”

There’s a dimple flickering at the corner of his mouth when you look up at him. “Thought you might like it.”

“I can’t believe I never knew this was here,” you remark, your eyes wide and blinking as you try to take it all in.

“Hey,” he answers with a shrug. “Maybe your hometown still has a few good surprises left in it.” You exhale a laugh as you lean into his side and he squeezes your joined hands; you can’t help feeling like you’ve already found the greatest surprise of them all.

After an hour spent wandering through the displays, each one more breathtaking than the last, Namjoon diverts you toward a small food stand. He comes away from the counter with a paper carton filled to the brim with long ropes of twisted, fried dough, warm enough to release steam into the air when you tear one apart to share, and dusted with cinnamon sugar that sticks to your fingertips.

The two of you take a few steps back down the path until you’re under an archway of glowing golden lights, then eventually come to a standstill, too hungry to do anything except devour your food.

Namjoon speaks first, mid-chew. “Can I ask you a question?”

“What’s up?” you answer as you reach for another piece.

He swallows, swiping the back of his hand over his mouth before he continues. “At your interview, you said your life fell apart. What happened?”

“Oh.” You smirk as you rip the braided dough in two, then in two again, before popping it into your mouth. “It seems a little silly now, but. I got fired from that last job, like I told you. And the same day, my roommate pretty much kicked me out of the apartment, because he wanted his boyfriend to move in. He was also my best friend, so. It stung a little. A lot. Moving back in with your parents at this age is humbling, to say the least. Feels a lot like starting over.”

Namjoon hums, like he understands. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Eh,” you respond noncommittally. “I should probably be happy for him. The timing just… wasn’t amazing.”

“You know,” he murmurs, thoughtful. “I thought my life was over when my ex and I got pregnant. Not even eighteen and about to be a dad. I really felt like… I don’t know, like that was it for me.” You nod slowly, unable to even fathom what that must’ve been like.

“But, here I am. Still alive.” Namjoon flashes you a grin, and you find yourself smiling back. “Still figuring it out. I actually feel like I’ve learned a lot from watching Sol grow up. They’re like—” He shakes his head, as if at a momentary loss for words. “They’re like a different person every month, I swear. What they’re into, how they dress. Who they wanna be. It makes me feel, I don’t know. Like it’s okay. Like I can change too.” He shrugs. “That’s the thing about life. It’s long. And even when you feel like it’s ended… it keeps going anyway.”

His words wash over you, and you’re so in awe that you can’t help but laugh.

“Ah, sorry.” He grimaces, suddenly self-conscious. “I know that was corny.”

“No, no,” you interject, trying to keep your composure. “I just think you are like, literally the wisest person I’ve ever met.”

The lights glimmering overhead aren’t enough to hide the way Namjoon blushes at the compliment, and then he pauses, as if recalling something. “Didn’t I nearly run the blender with the lid off on your first day?”

You double-over at the memory, and he’s laughing now, too. “Okay, okay. Fair point.”

The thought keeps circling around in your brain as you dust cinnamon sugar from each other’s jackets and continue your way around the rest of the gardens, occasionally pausing to trade sticky-sweet kisses in the twinkling glow: you don’t want the night to end. You keep glancing over at Namjoon, wondering if he’s feeling the same way as he drives you back into town, the heat in his car on full blast, the CD player still underscoring your conversation.

“So, what do your Christmas plans look like?” he asks, eyes flitting briefly from the road to meet your gaze.

You fiddle with a button on your coat, wishing you had a less depressing answer. “I was just gonna spend it by myself. My parents already had a vacation in Hawaii planned, so I’m gonna do what I always do: hole up with booze and snacks and wait for it all to be over.”

He chuckles, tapping his fingertips absentmindedly against the steering wheel. “Well, I have about a hundred presents to wrap tomorrow night while Sol’s at their mom’s. Why don’t you come over and help? I can even provide the booze.” There’s a pause, and his voice comes back softer before you can respond. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

The corner of your mouth tugs up at his sincerity, the way he gently cares for you, has since day one. “Yeah, okay. I mean, you had me at free alcohol.”

Just like that, Namjoon is already turning back into the Indigo parking lot, where your car sits waiting for you. The two of you shrug off your seatbelts once he’s pulled into a space and parked, and he reaches to turn down the music before shifting in his seat to get a better look at you.

“So,” he starts, clearing his throat a little. “You are officially no longer my employee.”

“And you are no longer my boss,” you answer back, and a thrill buzzes in your chest at the statement.

“Which means,” he continues, doing his best to lean over the center console, “I can do this.” He barely finishes getting the words out before his mouth is on yours, your eyes fluttering closed, his kisses far less chaste than the ones you shared earlier. They’re open-mouthed and urgent this time, with Namjoon slipping his tongue into the heat of your mouth like he’s been waiting all night for it.

“Uh-huh,” you murmur between kisses, and then he dips his head lower, until his lips find the join of your neck and shoulder.

“And this,” he purrs before kissing you just as hungrily there, tongue-first. You can’t hold back the soft noise his mouth pulls out of you.

“Fuck,” you breathe as he sucks gently over the same spot, with just enough pressure to make you writhe in your seat. A shiver rolls up your spine when he hums against your skin, clearly pleased at your reaction.

“And, uh…” You slowly blink your eyes open when you feel the warmth of his breath dissipate, and he’s looking at you with his brow furrowed, as if attempting some difficult mental math. “Actually—” He reaches down for the lever to adjust his seat, and it drops all the way back with a graceless thud that makes a laugh flutter out of you. “Maybe you could take your jacket off and come over here?”

You don’t need him to ask you twice, and you’re moving quickly as you peel out of the thick material and scramble across the console to straddle him. You both groan a little when you duck down to press your mouth to his again, all of this suddenly feeling much more real now that you’re basically horizontal. His hands alight on your hips, tentative, like he isn’t quite sure what to do with them, and you smile against his lips.

“Touch me, Joon,” you instruct, and he does as he’s told.

His hands are warm as he slips them beneath the hem of your shirt, trailing over your skin until he reaches the band of your bra. When you hum encouragingly into his mouth, he keeps going, pushing the fabric up your chest so your tits spill free from their confinement. He cups one in each hand, and though you might’ve expected him to be clumsy or rough, given everything you’ve seen of him thus far, you’re surprised to instead find that he’s gentle, thumbs circling your nipples with just the right amount of pressure to tighten them into stiff peaks.

Unable to bite back your whimper at the heat that blossoms through you at his touch, at how much more of him you need, you pull away just enough to break your kiss, glancing up through the back window of his car to confirm the parking lot is still empty.

Namjoon groans low in his throat when you reach down to tug up the hem of your shirt, shifting a little on top of him to give him better access. He doesn’t hesitate, thumb still working at one nipple while he takes the other into his mouth, and your sigh of relief comes edged with a soft moan when he swirls his tongue over the bud of your breast.

“Shit,” you gasp. “Feels so fucking good.”

He pulls off with a wet pop to switch sides, and the slick heat of his mouth sends bolt after bolt of arousal through you until there’s a dull ache of need thudding between your legs. As you roll your hips in desperate search of friction, you can feel him beneath you, straining hard against the fabric of his jeans.

Namjoon pulls his mouth off your breast, letting out a hoarse laugh when you shift to drop your forehead against his collarbone with a groan, horny enough to practically be delirious. “I hate that I’m even saying this,” he rasps, “but I really can’t have sex in a car. I’m too—”

“Big?” you offer, and there’s a smile on his lips as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“I was going to say old.”

You can’t help giggling as you lean up to find his mouth with yours again. Namjoon kisses you a little while longer, lazily, his hands still kneading gently at your tits, until he finally tips his head back, heaving a sigh up to the roof of his car. “Okay, okay. You should go.” His tone is reluctant, like it’s the last thing he wants. “It’s late. And my jeans fucking hurt.”

There’s a self-satisfied smirk toying at your mouth as you sit up, tugging your bra and shirt back into place and not missing the bulge in Namjoon’s pants where your hips meet his. “I will take the blame for that one.”

He folds his hands behind his head, biceps and dimples on full display. “Damn straight.”

You lean down for one more kiss, letting it linger before you make your way back over the center console to retrieve your jacket. “Have a good night, Joon,” you murmur as you reach for the door handle, and when you glance back, his eyes are fixed on you, still heavy-lidded with lust.

“Get home safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I have booze, as promised.” Namjoon’s voice echoes in from the kitchen as you kick off your boots and hang your coat up at his front door come Christmas Eve. The aroma hits your nose as your socked feet pad down the hall to follow him: the spice of cinnamon and clove, paired with a hint of citrus. It smells like the holidays, like home.

“Mulled wine?” you wager a guess, and he nods, turning away from the stove to retrieve two mugs from a cabinet.

“I halved the recipe, since it’s just us,” he explains, mouth pulling down at the corners as he starts to ladle out servings from the pot full of deep red liquid. “Still made a lot, though.”

Your eyes drift across the kitchen until they land on the two empty bottles of red sitting next to the sink, and that makes you pause for a moment to consider. “So the original recipe called for four bottles?”

Namjoon’s brow is furrowed when he glances up, and then he follows your gaze, and a look of delayed understanding washes over him. “Oh, fuck.”

Your elbows dig into the kitchen island as you press your hands to your mouth, as if to physically hold in your laughter. “Did you… halve everything in the recipe except the wine?”

His eyes drop closed as he nods, his answer a resigned sigh. “Yeah. Yes, I did.”

You can’t help yourself: all at once, you’re circling around to join Namjoon behind the stove, so you can take his face in your hands and pull his mouth down to yours. He makes a soft noise of surprise, but then his lips fall into rhythm, kissing you hard enough to knock the air out of your lungs. Even through the fabric of your shirt, his large hands are warm when they slide over the small of your back, and then they keep going, until you finally break the kiss with another laugh when he reaches his final target and outright grabs your ass.

“Not the reaction I anticipated,” Namjoon admits, paired with a teasing squeeze. “But I’ll take it.”

You look up at him through your lashes, pressing your palms flat to the firm plane of his chest. “A very wise friend of mine once told me that the holidays aren’t about every little thing going perfect. I thought maybe you needed a reminder.”

His dimples deepen as his eyes search yours, and his voice is lower in his throat when he responds. “I think that fool was just sayin’ words because a pretty girl asked him a question.”

Heat flushes your face as you smile back. “Well, they were very good words.” You drop your gaze to the pot on the stove. “Come on, I bet we can salvage this.”

Determined to save Christmas, you throw in another handful of spices, chased with a few glugs from a bottle of orange juice Namjoon heroically digs out of the back of the fridge. After a few more minutes of simmering, you take a tentative sip of the mixture to find it perfectly adequate.

“I guess we just have to drink twice as much now,” Namjoon quips, filling up two fresh mugs with the remedied wine. You raise an eyebrow back at him, as if to accept the challenge, while you tap your drinks together in a cheers.

By the time you realize that a double-batch of mulled wine and gift-wrapping don’t exactly go together, it’s already too late. The booze makes Namjoon’s big hands go even clumsier, the few presents he attempts an absolute disaster, and you can’t stop laughing long enough to be of any help. At one point he reaches up to cup your jaw for a kiss, but completely misjudges the distance, deftly knocking into his half-drunk mug and spilling the contents all over a tube of wrapping paper and the crotch of your jeans.

You dissolve into giggles until you can scarcely breathe, scooting your chair a few inches back from the table as he jumps up to grab something to soak up the mess. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” you manage to gasp when he returns, immediately focused on cleaning you up first. You wave him away as you get to your feet. “Seriously, it’s not that bad, it’s mostly the table.”

“Jesus,” Namjoon groans as he drops the kitchen towels in his hands onto the wooden surface, doing his best to soak up the puddle, though there’s no saving the ruined gift-wrap.

“It’s not a big deal,” you murmur as he turns back, once again examining the extent of the damage done to your clothes. A shiver rolls through you as his thumb brushes over the waistband of your jeans, and he grimaces a little.

“This is probably gonna stain.”

“I mean…” Your pulse starts to quicken as his fingertips linger where they are, and Namjoon’s gaze flits up to meet yours when you speak, clearly hearing a shift in your tone of voice. “I could just… take them off.”

A smile teases at the corner of your mouth when his eyes widen. “Yeah,” he breathes, then seems to self-correct. “I mean, uh. If-if that’s something you would feel comfortable doing.”

You’re already reaching to undo the button, and then Namjoon takes over to tug open the zipper and push the fabric down your legs, and your nipples tighten beneath your bra at the reminder of how gentle his large hands can be. His lips find yours again and you don’t hesitate to lick into his mouth, jostling slightly as you try to make out with him and kick your pants the rest of the way off at the same time. It’s graceless, but you manage to make it work, and then he pulls away from you to glance back down.

“It looks like a little got on your shirt, too.”

He’s right, you realize: there are faint purple marks splattered just above the hem of your long-sleeve, and you smirk as you look up at him.

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you did this on purpose,” you tease, and then in one swift move you pull your shirt over your head, letting it drop to the kitchen floor next to your discarded jeans.

Namjoon’s hands are instantly on your bare skin, trailing heat as they trace the curve from your hip to your waist, and your breath hitches as he ducks down to brush his lips over your collarbone. The low tone of his voice reverberates through you when he speaks against your skin. “I like to think I could’ve gotten you naked tonight even without being an accident-prone idiot.”

You run a hand along the line of his jaw, tipping his head up to seek a kiss, before leaning back to murmur, “I guess we’ll never know.”

He kisses you again, and the two of you stumble across the threshold into the living room, pausing along the way to peel off his sweater and then his jeans, laughing into each other’s mouths, just drunk enough to lack any semblance of coordination you might have otherwise had.

When you drop down to lay back on his sofa, you’re both stripped to your underwear, and you can feel the thick bulge of him, pressing firm-heavy heat into your thigh as he settles his hips between your spread legs.

Namjoon’s eyes roam over your body beneath him, and then he’s tugging the lace of your panties to the side to slip a finger into your drenched center, beckoning it up to rub you just right. Your mouth drops open as he traces slow circles against your front wall, and when he adds a second digit, you can’t help but whimper softly at the stretch. It thrums through you like your lingering red wine buzz, hot and thick and good enough to get lost in, your head dropping back on the couch cushions as your hips rock up into his touch.

“Goddamn,” Namjoon groans, and your eyes flutter open again to take him in, his gaze heavy-lidded as he watches his fingers disappear up into you, coaxing slick sounds out with each pump of his hand. “I had a whole plan,” he rasps. “To take my time. But, fuck, I really want to fuck you.”

“It’s okay, Joon,” you breathe, not sure how much longer you could stand the torturous feeling of his clothed cock grinding into your thigh, so close to where you want him. An ache throbs in your cunt, needy, plugged up with two fingers but still begging for more. “Just fuck me.”

Realization flashes over his face, and then he suddenly heaves a sigh, looking defeated. You have to bite back a noise at the loss as he withdraws his fingers. “I— there’s an obvious joke here, but. I don’t have any condoms. Or if I do, they’re definitely expired.”

It takes you a second to process the revelation, and then you reach up to pull him down to you, smiling when he hums surprise into your mouth at the unexpected response. Your lips linger on his, and then you tip your head to press a kiss to the slope of his neck, not quite able to maintain eye contact as you murmur, “I mean. I’m on the pill, and I’m clean. So.”

“Yeah?” he replies, and your nose bumps against his shoulder as you nod. “Me too. Well, I-I’m clean, I mean. I’m not on the pill.”

You can’t help the giggle that slips out as you look up at him. “Right, no, I get it.”

“Sorry,” Namjoon huffs a laugh in return, his face flushing a little. “I talk a lot, when I’m nervous.”

“I just thought it was an all-the-time thing,” you admit, and the color in his cheeks deepens.

“I’m just always nervous around you.”

Your mouth seeks his out for a kiss sweeter than the last, slower for his shy honesty and the hummingbird thrum of your heartbeat behind your ribs. The heat of his breath ghosts over your lips when you tip back to answer, “You don’t have to be.”

“So, you’re okay?” he asks, almost reverent with his question. “If we—if I don’t—”

“Please,” you insist, and it’s all the encouragement he needs.

With remarkably little fumbling, he drags the lace of your panties down your legs, letting you kick them the rest of the way off while he moves up to unclasp your bra. You slip the straps off your shoulders and drop it over the edge of the couch, then watch as he shifts to strip out of his boxers, freeing his cock with enough force that it smacks against his abdomen with a hefty thud.

You swallow hard as you take him in: long and thick, flushed dark. Big, and fuck, you want all of him; you can feel how drenched you already are between your legs at the thought of all that cock filling you up.

When you tear your gaze away to meet his, Namjoon is staring at you just as hungrily, and he brings a hand to pump himself a few times, to coat his shaft in the wetness that’s started to drool from the head of his dick.

“Come here,” he grunts, his voice rough-edged, and you waste no time straddling yourself over his hips.

Given his considerable size, you figured it might take you a second to adjust, but you want him so bad, the feeling of his cock stretching you open is all white-hot pleasure. Your fingertips dig into his shoulders as you slowly lower yourself down on him, inch by overwhelming inch, until your ass is flush with thighs.

Namjoon’s head drops back against the couch as you slowly grind your hips into him, his hands gripping at your waist to guide the movement. You can’t help the soft sound that flutters out of you: he just looks so good like this, white-blonde hair swept off his forehead, beads of sweat trailing down his temples and glistening at his collarbones, his parted lips full and kiss-bitten.

“Baby,” he groans as you start to move a little more intentionally. “Fuck, I’m not gonna last long. Tell me what to do.”

“Touch me,” you breathe, and you close a hand over one of his, guiding him down to your clit.

Just like the night before in his car, his touch is so gentle when he begins to trace circles into the sensitive nub with his thumb. You can feel the slow-hum build of an orgasm in your core, drawn up by the steady rub of his hand, and you lean back to allow him better access, bracing yourself on his thighs as you rock along his length.

A moan rips through you as the new angle drags the head of his dick just right against your front wall, and it’s good enough to make your eyes roll back. Chasing the feeling, you shove your hips down harder, driving his cock into that spot over and over until your thighs have started to tremble.

“That’s it,” Namjoon grunts encouragingly, his voice husky. “Use me, baby. Look so good when you bounce on my cock like that.”

The words set every last one of your nerve endings alight, and you dig your nails into his skin as your spine arches from the pleasure. His thumb is still working steadily at your clit, and the heavy stretch of his cock has you so wet, you can feel arousal starting to leak down your thighs. Your pussy clings to him like a vice, a throbbing-tight heat, taking him to the hilt every time.

“Oh my god, Joon,” you groan, “I’m gonna come.”

His touch doesn’t let up, and you can feel yourself teetering right on the precipice of it, only able to manage little gasps as you drop yourself down onto his cock again and again and again, with enough force that there’s an audible sound of your skin slapping against his.

Your legs are outright shaking from the effort now, from how close you are, and then Namjoon ducks his head, using his free hand to guide your tit into his mouth. The swirl of his tongue laved across the tight bud of your nipple is just what you need to push you over the edge.

With a moan that’s more like a sob, you drop forward against Namjoon’s chest, sinking all the way down to bury him in your pulsing cunt as you come. He continues to rub you through the waves of your orgasm, breathing ragged in your ear while your pussy gushes around him, until you grab his wrist with a soft whimper of overstimulation, and he relents.

Too gone to get any words out, all you can do is take his face in your hands and kiss him. He rolls his tongue over yours, decadent, as his palms slip down to cup your ass. You groan a little into his mouth when he begins to shift you, your cunt still fluttering-sensitive at every little motion, but he manages to maneuver you onto your back while still keeping himself sheathed in you.

His hands move to your thighs, encouraging your legs to hook over his hips, and his mouth trails kisses down the valley between your breasts before he breathes against your skin, “Can I keep going?”

“Please,” you murmur, and it’s chased with a moan when he starts to rock his hips into you. You feel so full, so swollen from your climax that it’s like your walls were molded to take him, the crown of his cock stroking deep-deep over the place that lights you up inside, shooting sparks of pleasure all the way down to your toes.

Namjoon’s breath stutters on a laugh. “Shit, I’m already close.”

You tilt up to brush your lips against his, humming encouragingly into his mouth, and then he pulls back again, one dimple teasing at the corner of his smile. “God, I— wanna hear you say it.”

Somehow, you know exactly what he means. “Come in me, Joon,” you beg, fucked so good that you’re shameless for it, and you gasp when he bottoms out in you with his next thrust. “Fill me up. Fuck me full of your cum, baby, please.”

It’s like the words send him into overdrive, and he practically growls as he starts to fuck his cock into you forcefully, hard enough to make your tits bounce. Each snap of his hips punches a heady groan from your lungs, and you reach up to drag your nails across the skin of his back as he chases his own end.

“Gonna fucking— give it to you,” he hisses, rolling his hips one, two, three more times, and then you feel his cock twitching, shoved in as deep as you can take him. He heaves a final strangled groan as he comes, rope after rope of his release pumping into you to paint your walls, until you can feel it beginning to spill back down your thighs.

You kiss through the comedown, inhaling shaky breaths into each other’s mouths, your bodies still fitted together like puzzle pieces, sweat starting to cool in the places where skin is pressed to skin. Namjoon finally moves first, giving a grunt of effort as he rolls off the couch, and you throw an arm over your face while the world slowly settles into focus around you.

When he returns, it’s with a towel in hand, and you can’t help smiling as he cleans you up, trailing soft kisses along your collarbone in tandem.

His voice is soft, too, when he finally speaks. “Will you stay here tonight?”

You prop yourself up on your forearms to look at him, and a little glimmer of something lights up in your chest that you can’t ignore. The first spark of an ember, just enough to reignite a flame you’d long since believed to be entirely extinguished. But now he’s shown you: it doesn’t have to be. You don’t have to be alone.

“Of course. We still have presents to wrap,” you say simply, and he huffs a laugh as he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Joon?” you murmur into the crook of his neck, unable to keep your voice entirely steady.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” you breathe. “For the magic.”

#namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x y/n #bts smut #bts x reader #a hyung holiday

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i-am-baechu · 1 year

Text

Chapter Thirteen: The One About Exes Part Two

Summary: “Did you just ask me if I sell coffee in a fucking coffee shop?” And with that, Taehyung was smitten by the Barista in the crazy flower sweater vest. Friendships will form but most importantly Taehyung will finally meet his soulmate.

•——————•°•✿•°•——————•°•✿•°•———•

Genre: Idol au, strangers to lovers au, barista reader!, slow burn (friends with benefits to lovers kind of), semi-short storyish format, friendships, romance, angst, comedy, and smut

Main pairing: Idol! Taehyung x Barista! Reader

Side ships: Hoseok x OC

Warnings: Explicit language, smut, mature themes, homophobia, smoking cigarettes, drugs, and alcohol usage

⇜ Masterlist ⇝

•——————•°•✿•°•——————•°•✿•°•———•

“Y/N, I-”

“Taehyung, I need a few minutes of silence...please.”

Taehyung sighed and looked down at his hotel carpet in defeat. He had no idea this was going to happen, how could he? He was excited that Y/N was here with him, he missed her so much but he never imagined their reunion would turn out like this. Her sitting away from him mad/sad at what happened and him looking down at the ground with confusion. How was he supposed to know his ex-girlfriend was going to show up?

Eight hours ago

Y/N was waiting at the airport with her phone in her hand. Jungkook was the one that helped her plan all of this and she felt touched that he wanted to help her. They didn’t have many interactions but she was glad that he liked her. She was reading random news articles until she got a text from Jungkook, I’m in the private section. I’ll meet you at the entrance and then we can go : ).

She smiled at this and put her phone in her pocket as she stood up. She gathered her luggage and headed towards the area. This was her first time out of the country. She wanted to go to Ireland last year but things got complicated with the tickets. She's never missed someone so much that she would spend almost a thousand dollars to go see them but here she is.

She looked past all the people around her the best she could and saw Jungkook leaning behind the sign. She knew it was him because she bought him that hoodie before he left New York. She smiled to herself and ran towards him with joy in her step, “Kook.”

Jungkook looked up from his phone and she couldn’t see his face. He had a mask and sunglasses on but she could tell that he was smiling through the lens, “Y/N. How was your flight?”

“It was long, it was my first time flying outside of the country.”

“Oh, really? I hope it went well for you.”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders and let out a small laugh, “It was fine. Nothing great nor bad happened, that’s all you can ask for. How's Tae?”

Jungkook looked around before he tilted his head towards the exit and she nodded her head. The two walked through the area with Jungkook’s hand gently on her back, “Tae’s been...he’s been off.”

She looked at him and frowned at this, “Why? Is it because of the lack of sleep or something else?”

“I honestly think it's because he misses you. You know this is the first time he had someone on tour. I don’t think he knows how to act, he's a sensitive person who just hides it.”

“We-We’re not together.”

��Sureee....”

She nodded her head and made a mental note. She bit her lip because she wanted to know how Taehyung was doing with Namjoon but she didn’t know if it was appropriate for her to ask, “How have you been doing?”

Jungkook opened the door for her and they entered the parking lot. He took off his mask and sunglasses to give her his bunny smile, “I’ve been having fun. Hoseok has been taking me out to ramen almost every night.”

“That sounds fun, has he talked about Julia?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes at this and let out a small groan, “Yes, he tells me everything. Why?”

Y/N sighed at this and looked at him, “Julia hasn’t really been talking to us all that much.”

“Oh, why?”

“Her cousin is in town. When he's in town, we don’t hear from her. At least Hoseok talks about her, makes me feel better.”

Jungkook opened the car door for her and nodded his head, “I’m sure she's okay. Let me put your luggage in the back.”

“Thank you, kook.”He sat next to her in the middle after doing that and it was clear he was excited. She raised her eyebrow at this and let out a small laugh, “You're really excited about this.”

“I never surprised Tae before. Well, not like this. I’m excited to see his face and maybe then he can be happy.”

Y/N frowned at this and looked down at her shoes, “Has he been sad?”

“He’s been more irritated. He hasn’t talked to Namjoon or Yoongi in a week or so.”

I know about Namjoon but Yoongi...that means something happened, “I’m sure it's stress too.”

“That’s true, he’s not really good at handling stress. I was thinking we should just go straight to his room.”

She nodded her head and smiled at him, “That sounds exciting. I missed him.”

“And trust me, he missed you.”

The ride there was short and the nerves started to come through. It’s been a while since she’s seen Taehyung. Yes, they talk on the phone almost every day and even Facetime but this was different. Would he act the same with her in person? She hoped so. She just recently figured out her feelings towards him and wanted him to feel the same way. She thought he did but you can never be so sure about people. Of course, he was different but you never know.

They walked in the long tan hallway and with each step she took, her steps got louder in her ears. It felt like the walls around her were sucking her up and she felt like she was going to get sick. Jungkook noticed this and gently rubbed her shoulders causing her to look up at him, “It's going to be okay. You shouldn’t feel nervous, he missed you.”

“I hope so...he’s told me so many times but I don’t know...it’s my brain being my enemy right now.”

“Well, listen to your heart then.”

She sighed and nodded her head, “You’re right...is this his room?”

Jungkook nodded his head and smiled at her, “Good luck.”

“What do you mean-” Jungkook knocked on the door and ran away leaving her standing with a confused look. She blinked twice and she registered what just happened. Jungkook left her and she was by herself now. That asshole.

“Jungkook, I swear- Y/N?”

She stared at him with a blank expression until she processed. It was Taehyung, it was really him looking at her with shock, “Tae, surprise.”

Taehyung didn’t even say anything and immediately wrapped his arms around her waist and brought her into a tight hug. She smiled to herself and wrapped her arms around his neck as she felt soft kisses on her neck, “I miss you so much, Y/N.”

“I miss you too.”

When they let go Taehyung smiled at her and pushed some hair behind her ear, “How did you get here?”

“Jungkook helped me.”

“That little brat. I should’ve known he was up to something.”

She raised her eyebrow and tilted her head, “How?”

“He was acting weird. He’s not good at hiding things.”

She got on her tippy toes and placed a kiss on his chin, “I’m glad he hid this. I missed you so much, Tae.”

“I missed you more. Did you pack that pink bra I like?”

She rolled her eyes and smacked his shoulders, “Shut the fuck up and get inside.” He grabbed her luggage and closed the door as she looked back at him with a small smirk, “Yes, yes I did.”

Taehyung bit his lip and set her luggage in the corner, “Are you wearing it?”

“I don’t know...I forgot. It was a long flight.”

“How about we found out together.”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders and sat on the bed with her legs slightly open, “I guess, I have nothing else to do.”

Taehyung let out a small laugh and took off the shirt, “Let’s investigate.”

She smiled to herself and shrugged her shoulders, “If you can. I don’t think you can solve the mystery.”

“Is that right? I guess I have to get to work.”

“Yes, you do...sir.”

˗ˏˋ✩ˎˊ˗

After four rounds, Y/N and Taehyung lay in the bed as they stared up at the ceiling together. She was cuddled into his side as his arm was wrapped around her shoulder. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, “I missed you. Fuck, I missed this.”

She let out a small laugh and placed a kiss on his chest, “I can’t believe I lasted this long without you.”

“You sound dramatic.”

She moved to straddle his waist and shrugged her shoulders, “I have nothing else to do...hey can I ask you something?”

“Of course you can.”

She looked away for a split second and then back at him with a frown, “Jungkook told me you haven’t been talking to Yoongi...is everything okay?”

Taehyung sighed, he needed to slap the shit out of Jungkook the next time he saw him, “Baby, it's nothing...I just found out something and I didn’t like it.”

“Tae, please tell me.”

He sighed and nodded his head, “I found out what happened with my ex...Namjoon and Yoongi lied to me about it.”

“Tell me.”

Taehyung told her everything and she was shocked, “I just don’t know what to do, baby.”

Y/N kissed his forehead and gave him a small smile, “You just need time...but you have to remember you work with them. You have to try and work with them, even though you're not happy about it. Once this tour is done, you can have a small break from them.”

He nodded his head and softly rubbed her thigh, “You're right...I just can’t help it.”

“I know babe but time will heal. Don’t rush it.”

Before he could say anything there was a knock at the door. She got off his waist and gave him a small smile, “I have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be waiting for you.”

He smiled at her and felt his heart flutter at her words. He watched her go into the bathroom and she gave him a small wave before she closed the door. He got up and put on random black shorts from his bag and a shirt as he made his way to the door. He opened the door and he frowned at what was in front of him, “Aria? What the hell are you doing here?”

Aria gave him a small smile, “I wanted to see you...I needed to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to talk to you. Leave me alone, Yoongi told me everything. Why would you do that to me?”

Aria sighed and looked away from him, “I was being selfish...I was protecting myself.”

“You broke me and you didn’t care.”

Aria looked back and glared at him, “I did care!”

“No, you didn’t. If you cared then you would have never done that to me. Honestly, I want to say thank you for doing that. I met the girl of my dreams and it's not you.”

“That tweet then, it's true.”

Taehyung sighed and rolled his eyes, “Aria just leave.”

“Tae, is everything okay?”

Tae turned to see Y/N in a white robe and he couldn’t help a smile, “Is that her?”

Aria moved past him and looked at Y/N with a glare as Y/N returned the glare, “I have a name but you're not worth knowing it.”

Aria looked back at Taehyung and shook her head, “Your dream girl is this? She's average.”

“I may be average but at least I would never break Taehyung’s heart. You're embarrassing yourself...have some self-respect.”

She scoffed at this as she continued to stare at Taehyung, “You really think I’ll let this go.”

Taehyund nodded his head and made his way to Y/N. He wrapped his arm around her waist, “Yeah because I don’t want you and never will.”

She let out a small laugh and shook her head, “You made the worst decision, remember I have pictures of us and I’ll find out who you are. I’ll make your life hell.”

“Then I’ll sue you.”

Aria didn’t say anything but she slammed the door. Y/N shook her head and walked towards the bed with her head hanging low. Taehyung followed her with a worried look, “Y/N, I-”

“Taehyung, I need a few minutes of silence...please.”

He was about to leave but she grabbed his wrist, “Tae...what are we?”

“What do you mean?”

Y/N looked away and then back with a shy gaze, “Are we together? I heard you call me your dream girl but we never clarified...”

Taehyung let out a laugh and shook his head, “A girl just threatened us together and you're worried about our status?”

“She can try it. I can take care of myself, what are we?”

“Well, you're my girlfriend.”

Y/N smiled at this and leaned forward placing a kiss on his forehead, “Let’s sue her together then.”

“That was really hot coming from you.”

She smirked at this and untied her robe, “Then show me how hot it was.”

Extended Ending:

Jungkook was eating ramen with Hoseok when his phone buzzed. Hoseok raised his eyebrow and put the bowl down, “Who is it?”

“It's Taehyung but he shouldn’t be texting me.”

Hoseok let out a small laugh and put down his chopsticks, “What did he say?”

“When you get back I’m going to kick your ass...Hyung! What did I do! I gave him the greatest gift!”

“Well...you're going to deal with it..”

#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts jungkook #bts namjoon #bts seokjin #bts taehyung #bts jimin #bts yoongi #bts x reader #bts hosoek #Bts #taehyung x reader #bts taehyung x reader #that Irish barista

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jjkwyd · 6 months

Text

bts reacts! you try to make them jealous

ღ requested: ooo maybe do a reaction where you try to make the members jealous

ღ network: ——

ღ genre: fluff/angst

ღ links: request away | m.list | request rules

➳seokjin

he immediately knew what you were doing. you were failing miserably at trying to flirt with the waiter. he held himself together as he watched you, letting you embarrass yourself. when the waiter left and walked to go place your order, he raised his eyebrow at you. “what was that?” he asked in a sweet tone. “whyyy are you jealous?” you smiled innocently as he couldn’t help but laugh. “jealous? i thought that was entertaining,” he smiled innocently as your jaw dropped. “funny?!” you sounded offended as he nodded. “it was a good try,”

➳yoongi

he watched you as you talked with the security guard that was by the door of his building. he couldn’t help but stare with daggers as you pushed the guards shoulder at his joke. yoongi grabbed your hand and pulled you inside quickly. “hey,” you whined as he looked at you. “what the hell was that?” his voice was a bit cold as you looked at him innocently. “what do you mean?” you pressed your lips together to keep yourself from smiling as he looked at you, realizing you were messing with him. “oh… that’s really funny,” he rolled his eyes a bit before walking off as you started to laugh.

➳hoseok

he watched you, his smile faded into a frown as you talked with the barista at the cafe you usually visited before work. you didn’t really think about flirting with him until you noticed hoseok. that’s when you decided to mess around with him. “byeee, i’ll see you tomorrow? when do you work?” you asked innocently then walked out with hoseok as he looked at you. “why do you talk to him like that?” hoseok immediately said when the door closed behind you. “what do you mean?” you took a sip of your latte as he sighed. “ill see you tomorrow,” he quoted you as you nodded. “im always here anyways,” hoseok sighed. “yah, don’t flirt with people like that, okay?” he missed the idea that you were just messing around with him.

➳namjoon

his jaw clenched as he watched you talking with jungkook. immediately getting jealous with the idea of you flirting with a different man. it took him a moment then realized you were doing it to get a rise out of him. he sat down and watched everything unfold. smiling to himself at how awkward you looked because you were already expecting him to be with you and ask what was happening. he watched as the painful conversation ended and you walked over. “what was that about?” he smiled softly as you thought. “oh i was asking about his piercing, i told him it looked nice,” he nodded then smiled at you. “flirting is not for you at all,” you blushed as you realized he caught on to what you were doing.

➳jimin

he watched as he saw you talking with his choreographer. his eyes shooting daggers between the two of you, he never invited you to watch his practice before but he was sure this would be the last time. you noticed him staring at you a while ago and decided to play with your hair as you talked about jimin to his own choreographer. “y/n!” jimin called out, faking the sweetness in his voice as you walked over. “yes…?” he held your wrist a little tight. “how about you go home? get some rest.” “why is that?” you questioned. “i don’t appreciate you flirting in front of my eyes. so…go. home.” you stifled a laugh. “what’s so funny?” he looked dumbfounded then realized. “you were messing with me…” he fake laughed, trying to pretend like he was in on the joke.

➳taehyung

he smiled at you as you both were painting in the class he paid for you to do. the teacher came around and complimented your progress, you smiled to yourself and got the idea to joke around and make taehyung jealous. “well i have an amazing teacher,” you complimented them as tae listened closely, figuring out what was going on. you threw a few more compliments the teachers way and taehyung cut you off. “hey, does this look right?” he innocently asked the teacher as he looked at his painting and complimented him then finished his rounds of looking at everyone’s work. “well i have an amazing teacher,” taehyung mumbled as he was mocking you a bit. “what? i’m not supposed to say something nice?” you looked at him with innocent eyes. “well, not when it’s flirting. jeez y/n” you giggled as he stared at you dumbfounded then realized and nodded a bit. “you were actually just being nice… not flirting….” you kissed his cheek and smiled. “bingo”

➳jungkook

he watched as you talked with his gym instructor, leaning up against one of the machines, playing with your hair and laughing at their jokes as jungkook watched you closely. he didn’t hear what you were saying and he cleared his throat, not wanting to say something about you talking to his instructor in front of them. “hey! i gotta go home… my stomach is messed up” he came up with an excuse as you looked over. “it is?” he nodded to your question as you said bye to his instructor. as soon as you were out of there jungkook looked at you. “what was that?” he looked a bit hurt as you looked at him. “just a conversation,” he shook his head. “a flirty one,” he still looked a little upset as you felt bad and kissed his cheek. “i was just messing with you,” he looked at you a little funny. “promise?” you nodded. “i promise, you’re like a million times hotter”

83 notes · View notes

euphoricfilter · 2 years

Note

can u write bully ☺️

“𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧”:

pairing: bully! kim taehyung x stalker-ish f! reader

genre: strangers to ??? || smut || non-idol au

summary: taehyung was probably the prettiest man you knew, though you were a little too shy to approach him first. however, it seems you may have caught taehyung’s eye, and his obsession with you may rival your own for him.

word count: 3k

tags/ warnings: self-depreciation, jealousy, stalker behavior, humiliation but reader kinda has a humiliation kink so it’s fine, kind of tsundere taehyung, dom! taehyung, sub! reader, sir kink, spitting in mouth, dub-con, exhibitionalism, dacryphilia, unprotected sex (this is fiction don’t be stupid), dumbification/ degradation manhandling, creampie, cum play, briefly mentioned nipple play, they do other stuff in public that i would gauge my eyes out if i ever saw, luckily this isn’t real

notes: not so much bully, more mean dom taehyung who won’t admit he likes our dear reader but he’s also kind of an ass. if anyone you like treats you like this then run please :’)

request rules can be found here || my masterlist

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Kim Taehyung was the prettiest man you knew.

You’d been working at the quaint little coffee shop for a couple of years, Taehyung joining only months after you had. Many shifts shared together, evenings spent in each other’s silent company before one of you would lock up for the night.

Taehyung was perfect. A god amongst humans. Sculpted by the heavens’ best artist to make sure that every crevice of his body was beyond ordinary human beauty. He was a vibrant rose that had bloomed on a dead bush. A fleck of vibrant paint on an otherwise white canvas.

You think Taehyung was more the moon rather than the sun, a little too ominous, and all too mysterious for him to be the sun. His aura more the night sky than the day where grey clouds could cover his beauty, where little specks of stardust surround him like a halo wherever he walks.

Your favorite thing about Taehyung was his hands. How elegant they were. How they held the handle of a mug as he brewed a coffee, how his lithe fingers sweep his bangs from his eyes as he steams milk; how those same pretty fingers wrap around your throat when he gets mad. Or his hot touch after his hand collides with your cheek. Painting them to match the pink evening sky.

It had started out as an innocent crush. The new barista who had the attention of man and woman alike, both customer and employee of the cafe.

It had started with you stealing short glances in his direction. Watching as he wiped down tables, and smiled at girls whose figures were better than your own. Smiles that you wished were pointed in your direction. But you suppose pretty men went for pretty people, and maybe you just weren’t perfect enough for Taehyung.

That was okay, though. Because you were more content watching him.

Shy glances had morphed into daydreams. Daydreams fueled by longing, your eyes following his every move as he danced around the cafe, so in tune with his body that he never bumped into a table. Not like you, a little clumsy and too careless. Never elegant, never perfect.

Daydreams moulded into curiosity. Where does he live? Go to school? His friends? You wanted to know it all. Your free afternoons were spent slipping in and out of shadows, making sure that Taehyung had gotten home safely, wondering why a few too many girls touched over his shoulders, delicate fingers trailing down his chest when he’d meet them at pc cafes before he’d walk to campus for his evening lectures. Why it always seemed to be a polite smile in their direction, never anything else.

He was a good man, never leading anyone on. Genuine in his conversation, interest in someone else’s life never fake.

You’d gotten good at knowing his schedule. Your pitiful little heart pattering against your rib cage when your cafe’s new rota would be hung up on the wall; evenings now spent together between making coffee and wiping tables. Though you never dared utter a word to him, happier being a name to face rather than an acquaintance where you’d have to keep up conversation. How were you meant to think when all you could think about was him?

Over time you had started to get a little careless, peeking through gaps in doors and stumbling into little shops behind him before his long legs would pull him away from you. Figure morphing into the darkness of an alleyway, a new way home that you hadn’t seen him take before.

“What do you want?” Taehyung says, eyes still trained on his phone as he sits at the dingy little table in the cafe’s break-room, and you swallow thickly. His deep voice shaking your heart.

You say nothing, thinking there was no way he could talking to you. Maybe someone on his phone; his tone nothing like the angelic Taehyung that you’d known, watched for months now.

“I asked what you wanted” he drops his phone to the table, gaze turning towards the door where you hide.

You take a look behind you, stumbling forwards when the door is yanked open, your cheeks smacking against a hard chest.

Your breath hitches, eyes squeezing shut momentarily as you feel Taehyung’s chest rumble, was he laughing at you?

“I asked—” he pushes your head from his chest, causing you to stumble backwards, “—what the fuck you wanted” he sneers.

You peer up at him through your lashes, eyes wide as your mouth falls open. “Coffee” you squeak, “Do you want coffee?”

He tilts his head, corner of his lips tugging up into an unamused smile, “Fuck off” he grabs the door before slamming it closed.

You let out a shuddering breath, hand coming to press over your heart.

Maybe he was having a bad day.

You didn’t let that ruin your mood, because for the first time since meeting him; you just had a conversation with Kim Taehyung.

Your lips curl up into a smile, small skip in your step as wander back out front of the cafe to help your friend serve a few more customers.

Your second mistake, was the day you and Taehyung were left in the cafe alone.

The sun had slipped behind a few of the high rise buildings, the sky coated in an orangey hue. The smell of freshly brewed coffee permeating the air.

The small cafe was empty par from a few high school kids who had homework to catch up on, and not enough caffeine to aide them in overdue assignments.

“I’m going on break” Taehyung had called over to you, waving you off when you opened your mouth to ask why.

You shut it, simply nodding. If he needed rest then who were you to stop him?

You stare at the door, backs of your legs starting to ache as you lean on the counter, hoping that maybe someone would come and occupy you, even if it were only for a few minutes.

“Y/n!”

And that had you scrambling to the break room, eyes wide with worry as you teeter to a stop before him.

“Is something the matter?” you stare down at Taehyung, who only hums in reply.

“Make me a drink”

“Oh, okay” you nod, biting your bottom lip as you scamper back to the front where you get started on his coffee.

You’d seen him order a flat white while out with friends on more than a few occasions, so you guess he must like those.

“What’s this?” he peers into the cup.

“A flat white” you whisper, fingers fiddling with the pocket of your apron.

He crooks two fingers, motioning for you to bend down to his level. You do so, eyebrows furrowing a little in confusion.

You think you hear it before you feel it, his palm coming in harsh contact with you right cheek.

Tears gather on your waterline, prickly, needle like pain dusting your cheek in red. You have no time to recover before Taehyung grabs your face, nails digging into each cheek as he pulls your face closer to his own.

“You little freak, you really have been following me around, haven’t you?” he laughs, though he didn’t seem all that amused, “I only drink black coffee”

You shake your head, wincing when he digs his finger into your skin harder. And you may have been worried about bleeding if you weren’t so scared of what words were to fall off his tongue like venom.

“Fucking liar” he spits, shoving your face away, quick, like your touch had burnt him.

You take a few steps back, fingers skimming across your cheeks as you stare down at him.

“On your knees” he picks his phone up.

“Huh?” you manage to squeak.

“Are you stupid?”

You shake your head, eyes flitting between his own. Wondering if maybe he was just trying to play a mean joke on you.

“On your knees then”

You do so, dropping to your knees, “Come closer” he motions with his head.

You go to push yourself to stand, only for Taehyung to push at your chest with his foot, “pets crawl”

You nod, head hanging low as your hands touch the floor, humiliated as you sit on your heels beside Taehyung’s chair.

He grabs the back of your hair, yanking your head up so your looking at him. “Open”

Your mouth falls open.

Taehyung picks up the scalding cup of coffee, sadistic smile tugging at his lips as he pours the hot liquid into your mouth, uncaring as it spills over your uniform, staining your clothes; streaking your skin red.

You splutter, pulling away from his tight hold on you, coughing as you wipe around your mouth. Pearly tears mingling with the coffee on your face as you heave a large breath.

“What do we say when sir gives you something?” he asks, condescending.

You snivel, peering up at Taehyung through wet lashes, he frowns down at you. “What do we fucking say?”

“Thank you” you hiccup.

“Thank you, what?”

“Thank you, sir”

“Good girl” he turns back to his phone.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“Stop squirming” Taehyung grunts, tugging your hair so your head lays on his thigh.

You think your knees must red with how long you’d been kneeling on the wooden floor, though you think your cheeks must be 10 shades darker as you stay kneeled beside Taehyung as he works on an assignment in the library.

And you can only thank your lucky stars you and Taehyung were the only two sat so far back in the corner where no one could stumble across the two of you. The humiliation of being found, sat at Taehyung’s feet like some sort of pet, sending a lick of arousal down your spine to your pulsating cunt.

Goosebumps prickle at your skin when he cards his fingers through your hair, your arms twitching where you have them held behind your back; per Taehyung’s request.

You feel him tug your head towards his crotch, your lips skimming the fabric of his sweats, grey cotton doing nothing to hide what he has to offer underneath. You grab onto his thigh, delicate fingers digging into the muscle as he pushes your head so your nose brushes over his steadily growing erection.

“What would you do if I made you suck my cock right now?” he asks, humming when your lick your lips. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Anything to please me, right?”

You nod, thighs clenching at the thought of his thick cock in your mouth, you wonder what he would sound like, how rough he’d make you take it. You feel a dribble of arousal leak into your cotton panties, slick fabric brushing against your clit as you squirm in place.

A pitiful whine tumbling from your lips when Taehyung shoves your head away from his crotch.

“Fucking disgusting” he utters, “Do you think you deserve my cock after everything you’ve done? Stupid girl, following me home, watching me and friends. You’re fucking gross, you know that?”

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry” tears dribble down your cheeks.

And Taehyung feels his cock twitch at the sight of your blotchy face.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

The first time Taehyung takes you to his apartment, you feel your heart swell. How kind he must be if he were to let you have a look into his private life, paintings you assume to be his own hung on the walls, pictures with his parents and vinyl records displayed in book cases from artists you had never heard of.

“On the floor, pet” he reminds you after you’d slipped your shoes from your feet.

You follow, rewarded with a gentle smile from Taehyung, the pretty one he seems to give everyone else but you, until you’re on you’re knees, sat waiting for his next command as you watch him wander into the kitchen. Bag of take-out placed on the table as he takes a seat.

You scamper after him, palms growing redder as you crawl. Making sure to sit beside his chair.

He places a box of chicken in front of you, saying nothing as he rummages through his own dinner.

You make no move to eat, not at all hungry as you’d stolen a few too many sweets from cafe earlier during your shift.

“Eat” Taehyung tells you, nudging your thigh with his socked foot.

“Not hungry” you whisper, Taehyung grunting at that.

“Should still eat something” he bends down, picking up a piece of chicken, “open”

You do as told, watching Taehyung’s face as he feeds you. Hand on your jaw as you chew, thumb tugging your mouth open after you swallow.

“Manners, doll”

“Thank you, sir” you muffle around his fingers as he shoves them a little further into your mouth.

You find yourself sat by Taehyung’s feet a lot after that day.

While he works on assignments. While you work on assignments. While he plays video games, he chucks a cushion in the floor for you to sit on. While he cooks in the kitchen, the simple term “open” seeming to be his favorite.

Open. His fingers are in your mouth. Seeing how far they’ll go before you gag. Humming when you looking up at him through your lashes. Bonus points if you start to cry.

Open. And then there’s food in your mouth. Chewing under his watchful eye before he makes you eat more. Cocky little smirk on his face when you push his hand away. Only to be thrown over his thighs so he can spank your ass red raw for refusing him.

Open. He spits in your mouth, telling you to swallow before giving you a smile as your reward. Meanly tugging at your puffy nipples from where he’d played with them earlier on.

Open. And your mouthing at his cock, some days hard, maybe flaccid but you feel it grow under your lips as he presses your face into his crotch. Never letting you touch, never letting you taste. Only teasing you with what you could have his Taehyung was a little kinder and didn’t thrive off the desperation in your eyes when he makes you kiss his aching erection through his pants.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Taehyung watches as you smile at a customer, a boy your age he supposes, if the pile of books were any indication that he was also a college student. Cheeks round and youthful in a way Taehyung grew out of in his mid teens.

His jaw tightens when that same boy leans against the counter, the cafe an hour from closing; not many people on the streets as the moon makes its appearance. The three of you the only ones left in the coffee shop.

Taehyung wonders if you like the attention. You must do, sweet little smile being directed at a puny college boy that looked like he didn’t know how to please a woman. He looked as though he needed a true woman to please him, to step on his pathetic little cock for him to cum. If only he knew you couldn’t give him that, too reliant on Taehyung for your own pleasure, letting him control you like his own little puppet, your pleasure now his.

He’s sure if he’d finally get his hands on you, all you’d know was his name. But he supposes that wouldn’t be too hard. Your pretty little head always seemed to be filled with thoughts of him.

He wasn’t stupid, far from it. You weren’t all that secret with your cute little crush either. Obvious with your steady growing obsession with him and Taehyung couldn't get enough of it. So much power over someone so consumed with his entire being.

But he liked you that way. He liked the way you listened, not questioning him when he tells you to do something. Not like a few other girls he’d tried to get with, they all held themselves too high to let him humiliate them a little. Too consumed with themselves to heed to his every demand.

But you. A little stupid, but Taehyung couldn’t get enough. Addicted to the way you followed him, a cute little puppy that he’s just starting to have fun with. A cute little puppy who would do anything for his validation and love.

His fingers tap against the table. Your new little admirer having no shame as he tries to get a peek up your skirt as you reach for one of the mugs on the top shelf.

“Y/n” Taehyung drawls, covering his smile with his hand when your attention is fully on him. No longer bothered with the college boy, who seems to wander off to a table as you ignore his blatant attempts at flirting with you.

“Yes?” you ask from behind the counter.

“Coffee”

You scamper off into the back room, Taehyung not bothered with what you were doing, just as long as you weren’t entertaining any one else.

He watches the boy peer up from his phone every so often, gaze trailing after you as you start making Taehyung his drink.

“What’s this?” he motions to the mug when you gently place it on the table, little yellow stars painted over a deep purple sky.

“I bought you a different mug, I thought it was prettier than the cafe’s ones” you rock back and forth, not daring to look at Taehyung’s reaction. Only hoping he liked it, because you thought of him when you’d seen it in the shop window.

“Is that so?” he muses, “Go back now” he motions towards the counter.

You nod, “okay”

Your little college admirer stays until closing, never seeming to work up the courage to ask for your number. That, or he catches Taehyung’s glare each time he dared open his mouth to talk to you.

“Did you like it?” Taehyung stalks towards the counter, eyes narrowing at you as you wipe down one last mug of the day before you close up the shop.

“Pardon?” you blink up at Taehyung, something about the innocent look on your face pissing him off.

“Did you enjoy whoring yourself out to some sad little college boy?” he sneers and you carefully hang the mug back up.

“I wasn’t—“ you shut your mouth at the look on Taehyung’s face. His eyebrows narrowed, gaze scrutinizing you.

His grip is harsh as he grabs your wrists, your hip slamming into the table as he grabs under your arms, lifting you to his side of the counter.

You let out a small squeak, unsteady as he drops you on your feet. Uncaring as he spins you around, pushing you to bend over the counter by your shoulders.

You turn your head to look at Taehyung, a choked groan slipping off your tongue when he pushes your head to the table, cool marble numbing your cheek as you feel him push his pelvis against your ass.

You feel his steadily growing erection rub against your covered core, slick gathering up at your entrance as you start to fantasize what he’ll do now that he’s got you where he wants.

You stay bent over the counter when he flips your work skirt up over your ass, cute pink panties darkened where your arousal seeps into the fabric.

Taehyung run a finger over your covered slit, rubbing over your clit as more slick dribbles out of your hole.

“Fucking soaked. All for me, yeah? You disgusting little girl”

“Please, Taehyung” you whine, thighs clenching around his hand as he continues to rub your weeping pussy over your panties.

“What did you call me?” he sneers, pulling your underwear between your ass cheeks. Delicious friction against your clit sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

You expect the slap when it comes, ambrosian pain prickling up your spine, Taehyung’s hand painted red on your skin as he brings his hand down for another harsh slap to your right ass cheek.

“Sorry, sir” you whimper, saline tears cascading down your cheeks like little pearls.

Taehyung unbuttons his work pants, pulling them down along with his boxers until they pool around his ankles. He pushes your panties to the side, running the head of his hard cock through your slit to gather your slick, hand running over his shaft to lube it up with your juices.

Your thighs clench as the head of his cock nudges your clit, Taehyung’s head tipping back as your thighs squeeze around his length.

He kicks your legs apart, hand flat on your back as he lines his cock up with your entrance.

Your mouth falls open as his thick cock head pushes into your entrance, leaving you no time to adjust to his length, he pushes all the way in before pulling back, so close to slipping out of you.

Taehyung’s eyes close, snapping his hips forwards so his thighs smack the back of your own.

A staccato of ‘ah ah ahs’ tumble out your mouth as he continues his onslaught of thrusts, starting to pick up the pace.

“You like that?” he grunts, “who do you belong to?”

His fingers dig into the meat of your hips, little crescent moons marked into your skin to match what hangs in the sky, your only witness as Taehyung fucks you like no one had ever before.

“You” you whimper, “only you”

“That’s my girl”

Taehyung pushes you up the counter, angle of his hips changing so his cock touches that little spot inside of you that causes stars to flicker behind your eye lids. Wet slap of Taehyung’s cock ramming into your sodden cunt borderline pornographic to match your moans.

Taehyung bends over your body, chest meeting your back as he rolls his hips. Rutting into your core as deep as he could go.

Your fingers hold onto the end of the counter, Taehyung’s thrusts so hard they start to push you up the cold surface.

“Open up, baby” he grunts, breath fanning against your ear. Your mouth falls open, whimper tumbling off your lips when he shoves two fingers into your mouth, “suck”

Your tongue dips between his fingers, sucking like you would his cock if he would let you. Your walls clenching around him at the thought of having his precum coat your tongue, how your lips would pull taught at his girth, cockhead nudging the back of your throat as you try to swallow him.

“You’re so fucking tight” he groans, feeling your walls pulsate around his length.

He pull his saliva slick fingers out your mouth, trailing down your body to flick your clit.

“Cum for me, doll” he grunts, cock twitching as your walls clench around his length. Your eyes squeezing shut as you tip over the edge, orgasm wracking through your body as your thighs shake, cum oozing from your hole, lewd squelch as Taehyung continues to snap his hips upwards.

Tears fall down your cheeks, Taehyung’s hand coming to cover your mouth as his thrusts become languid.

“Shut up, people outside might hear you. You stupid girl” he pulls your hair, lifting your head from the counter.

“Inside me. Please cum inside me” you cry, uncaring of the sounds that drip from your tongue, breath shuddery as Taehyung slams his cock as far into you as he can before he paints your walls white.

You feel his cum fill you, the grip you had on the counter loosening as Taehyung continues to thrusts into you, cock slowly softening.

“Too much. Too much” you cry, thighs twitching as his fingers continue to rub tight circles on your sensitive clit.

“Don’t care” he pushes in once more before pulling out.

Your muscles relax, flopping over the counter as Taehyung bends down behind you.

“Push my cum out” he pulls your lips apart, watching as your hole clenches around nothing.

He groans as his seed slips out of you, two of his fingers pushing it back into your sloppy cunt.

His fingers thrust into your hole, hand landing a slap to the back of your thigh when you go to close your legs.

“Good girl” he croons, pulling your panties over your soiled pussy. “open”

Your lips part, tongue rolling out of your mouth as Taehyung lathers it up with a mixture of both of your cum, content smile on his face as he pulls you off the counter, arm around your shoulder as he walks the both of you to the door, ready to close up for the night.

Uncaring of the cum that drips down your thighs in thick rivulets. At least you know you’re his.

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung imagine #taehyung x reader #bts fic #bts x reader #bts yandere #bts au #bts requests #taehyung fic #taehyung x y/n #bts

2K notes · View notes

hamsterclaw · 1 year

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Fic Library: Jungkook (Part 2)

I realised whilst compiling this library just how many Jungkook stories I've read and recced. It's probably because Jungkook stories are far and away the most prolific on my feed and also probably because the maknae looks and acts like he does. I hope you enjoy these, don't forget to show these writers some love.

A blight on the heart by @thatlongspringnight features Jungkook x f!reader set in a historical AU. Jungkook is stoic but petty, absurdly jealous and so so devoted, and reader is soft but strong. Sweet, smutty and beautifully written.

Cream and sugar by @gukslut has a fantastically written asshole barista Jungkook who reader meets again after a one-night stand. The banter is strong, Jungkook is irresistible and Yoongi also features. It's perfect.

Babydoll by @gimmethatagustd has a heartless fuckboy Jungkook who is equal parts infuriating and irresistible.

Lather, rinse, repeat by @btsrunmylife features Jungkook and noona! reader where Jungkook is in full bratty little shit mode and smutty shower shenanigans ensure.

Up all night by @moni-logues is a neighbours to lovers/?fuckers story with an unhinged, ridiculously confident menace of a next-door neighbour Jungkook and a hilarious ending.

Cursed hours by @whatifyoulivelikethat features boyfriend Jungkook being his perfect pouty, horny, sexy self and results in you both getting what you want.

Better than me? by @7deadlysinsfics involves fuckbuddies reader and Jungkook and takes a hilarious turn when Jungkook's competitive side is activated.

What if I love you too much? by @taleasnewastime features single mum reader and sweet, caring neighbour Jungkook. Slowburn perfection.

Make it feel like Christmas by @yoongiphoria is a holiday story with best friends Jungkook and reader left stranded because of the snow. This couple is so sharp and witty and so so endearing, and there is a perfect description of Taehyung.

Photograph you in this light by @yoongiphoria is a bittersweet and lovely drabble that captures the sadness of impermanence perfectly.

How to make him cum 101 by @mimithings97 is set in a college AU and features a very sweet Jungkook. I love the writing style - casual and like it's spoken, and the smut is hot.

Pink carnations by @fizzydrink698 has a tattoo artist reader and a sweet smitten florist Jungkook.

Shades of red by @thatlongspringnight features whiny vampire Jungkook and a soft-bodied reader and is sexy, smutty goodness.

Idol hands by @bonvoyagenoona is a gorgeous story by one of my favourite writers featuring Jungkook in a love triangle with Namjoon and you. Heartfelt and lovely.

Ruin the friendship by @kpopfanfictrash is a best friends to lovers AU with a sweet fuckboy lite Jungkook that's fun and sexy.

Where do broken hearts go by @back2bluesidex is a series in progress with exes Jungkook and reader that I'm super intrigued by, and so endeared by reader and single dad Hoseok.

#fic rec library: jungkook #fic recs list: jungkook #fic recs: jungkook

224 notes · View notes

potatomountain · 2 years

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“That’s My Spot”

Nonidol!Yunho x reader (afab) nsfw

Synopsis: A double date with your best friend Yunho leads to something more.

genre: Best friend to lovers, smut, slight angst

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: possessiveness/jealousy, smut of the penetrative kind. no condoms were used- don't be silly wrap your willy. Creampie, oral(receiving), fingering- some manhandling, and a bit rough. everything is consensual cuz consent is king.

[The below picture(s) inspired this as well as my moot @hwaightme ] also- HAPPY VALENTINES DAY! posting this early as a treat for you all <3

. Taglist: @candypop1611 @hwaightme-recs @layzfeelit

Also reminder I don't edit my works ^^' and they do not represent ateez in any way, shape or form. Just delulu fics <3

After your last relationship you were pretty terrified to get back into the dating scene, but over two years single and one night stands weren’t cutting it, even if it was every few months at least. That’s why you had accepted your latest offer of a date, from the barista at one of your favorite cafe’s, but not without a catch: you asked for a double date.

Really you were just too scared to go on said date alone and had begged your best friend to accept the offer and go with you, which your date was okay with. Even found had a friend who was willing to join in the blind date. The whole situation was awkward, but the simple fact Yunho was going to be there made it a whole lot less awkward for you.

It was a dinner, Yunho having picked you up from your apartment so that you would actually be on time to the restaurant. It was nicer than the ones you would normally go to, so you opted for a dress while Yunho even wore a grey suit jacket over a white button up- you opted for not looking at his pants, just noting they were slacks, as something about him being all dressed up had your stomach tightening anxiously.

You didn’t know it was worse for Yunho. More often than not the two of you were more like bros, wearing casual clothes, sweats, or even pajamas in each other’s presence; so seeing you dolled up and in a dress that rode up mid thigh, your fingers playing with the hem in his passenger seat, had drove him crazy. But not as much as the fact that despite you looking so beautiful, sexy even, in his car, it wasn’t for him.

His silence for the car ride hadn’t helped your nerves and your constant fidgeting hadn’t helped his, so by the time you arrived at the restaurant and met your respective dates, both of you were on high alert with anxiety. Yunho was the tallest of the four of you, even your date had to tilt his head back just a bit to look up at him during introductions. He wasn’t unattractive, neither was the friend he brought, but Yunho thought you put her to shame. She had recently bleached hair, and wearing a black dress cut too low for his liking unlike yours that gave a modest peak but was still enough.

He figured she would at least be a good fuck, so he wasn’t coming out of this empty handed, but he found out rather quickly he didn’t give two shits about sleeping with her, in fact he already forgot her name by the time the four of you were seated. Your date, Taehyung, had his attention more.

All because he sat to your left, which had always- always - been Yunho’s spot since the two of you met back in grade school. He always sat to your left, but somehow he was across the table from you, the blonde sitting to his right and paying him no mind.

By the time food actually got there, you seemed to be the only one paying any attention to him at all, playing matchmaker with him and the blonde while you would go red at Taehyung’s shy flirtations. Yunho opted to stay quiet, noting the way the blonde next to him was clearly interested in your date but he wasn’t giving her as much attention as he was you. Really, he should be glad a guy was interested in you and making you gush like a preteen school girl in a way he hadn’t seen since, well, school- but the fact of the matter was, he wasn’t.

He had to accept the truth that he wanted to be the one making you flustered and hide behind your water; that he wanted to be the one you were on a date with, that you dressed up for... he wanted to be yours. Yunho was ready to call it a

night, because while he wanted that, he was your best friend first, and while that didn’t curb his anger, he could get it out in other ways.

He turned to the blonde, drinking his coke slowly as he had caught her sneering at you, both you and your date oblivious. Now that- that he wasn’t going to tolerate, and perhaps he should’ve. “I don’t appreciate you glaring at my friend; I’m your date, not him.” He also could’ve said it better, but too late now.

His jab had gotten your attention and in turn Taehyung. Both of you looked to the blonde in confusion while Yunho put his glass down. Blondie’s cheeks were bright red, glaring at him now. Taehyung called out to her, asking for an explanation in a far more gentle tone than Yunho would have used.

“She’s just not even that pretty! Giggling like a damn idiot over every little thing you say.” Instead of dropping it, the blonde just seemed to dig her grave further.

Yunho wasn’t about to let some strange bimbo insult you and dictate who you were good enough for, so he stood slowly, pulling his wallet out and placing enough cash on the table to cover yours and his meal plus some. “We’re leaving, you two have some talking to do.”

“We? Yunho?” You looked up at him, eyes wide and teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. It was a nervous habit of yours he knew well, but currently he couldn’t be bothered to try and ease your discomfort. “Why?”

“I just said why. This chick clearly wishes she was in your spot right now-” look who is talking, hypocritically of you huh? He mentally chastised himself, motioning between the two and taking note of how Taehyung had softened towards the blonde at his words. “I’m not going to stick around and watch, so either we can leave now or you can meet me in the car when you’re done.” He fixed you with a look that seemed rather impassive or void of emotion as he gripped the table and leaned forward a bit.

You had never seen him fix you with a look like that before, but your body reacted immediately, stomach twisting and thighs pressing together. He had been watching you most of the night, which you had been aware of, and truthfully it had been his eyes on you that had you flustered most of the night. Taehyung was nice, sweet and charming even, but you had noticed he seemed to be trying to hard. Now that he was practically staring at the blonde with doe eyes you realized he had been trying to do the same thing you had been doing: trying not to get flustered over someone who wasn’t your date.

Neither the blonde or Taehyung protested as Yunho urged once more with a lift of his brow. “Are you coming?”

“Yes sir.” You squeaked out, quickly rising to your feet as embarrassment flooded you; where had the ‘Sir’ come from? Well, you didn’t seem to care where it did, only that it made Yunho’s gaze darken and burn on you even more before he was walking pass you, grabbing your left wrist and tugging you along. He was a bit rough, and it was a struggle to keep up with his long strides, but you didn’t protest.

You had never seen Yunho like this, worked up in some way, but it was hot.

By the time you were sitting in the passenger seat again, your brain finally caught up with the realization that your underwear wasn’t dry any more, and it had nothing to do with the man you left in the restaurant.

And everything to do with the man sitting on the other side of the car, gripping the steering wheel, but not starting the car. “Yunho?” Slowly you turned to him, biting down once more on your lip when you noticed veins in his hands practically bulging from his grip on the wheel, his jaw clenched tightly and his eyes on the dash. “Yunho say something... you’re worrying me.”

It occured to you he was angry, but at what you had no idea. Or well, you didn’t have the brain capacity to try and figure it out as it was still trying to process that from the moment you saw Yunho at your front door you had wanted him to be your date, and not just because you wanted him sexually, which was a whole lot to process there. You knew he was attractive, liked the fact his size made you feel safe and secure like a giant teddy bear, but now you couldn’t stop thinking about what else he could do with that size- and what else was big.

Funny how now that the figurative dam of your emotions broke, your incessant need for him was at the forefront, dominating every part of you. At least until your stomach began to twist with a growing fear that is. Yunho had finally started the car, driving a bit quicker than he normally would and he was already a somewhat scary driver.

You were tense in the passenger seat, fidgeting with the hem of your dress and shifting your legs often, making it harder for yunho to find the right words to speak. Every time he thought he could speak up and apologize or something, you were shift in his peripheral and all thoughts would be gone aside from ones he definitely should not be having of his best friend. How would your thighs look slightly bruised from his hands? Or better yet wrapped around his face, or around his waist.

Every time your tongue would slip out to ease your swollen lip after biting on it, he would wonder how it would look running up his cock. He gripped the wheel tighter the whole way to your apartment, pulling up and parking after a silent drive. He had been too wrapped up in his thoughts not to notice the way your eyes shone with unshed tears.

He just needed to look in your direction, which he wouldn’t, not until you were leaning over the center console and tugging on his jacket, too anxious to leave the car without a response from him. Now that you realized your feelings you hope you didn’t just ruin your friendship as well. “Please don’t be mad at me Yunho, I’m really sorry this was a shitty date- I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

You would have continued to apologize if he didn’t grit out your name through clenched teeth. “I’m not mad- just go inside.” It took everything in Yunho to say those words, silently cursing himself knowing that he definitely did sound angry. He wasn’t, fuck he wasn’t, he just couldn’t look at you without having the urge to do something stupid. You had wanted to date that guy tonight, Yunho wasn’t even an option on your radar and yet you were now the only option for him.

“Liar! Yunho-” You whined, tugging on his jacket more until he pulled away. You were fighting off tears, and the underlying voice in your mind that was admiring how attractive he was with a clenched jaw and a death grip on the steering wheel. Even though you were parked and the car was off, he didn’t move an inch from his spot, as if ready to drive off the moment you stepped out; so you refused to leave the car. “What was it? Was it the blonde? Or Taehyung? Are you upset that I’m a big idiot for going on such a date ‘cause I am-” You started to ramble out apologies, each one ticking off Yunho even more.

When you sat back, once more playing with the hem of your dress even more panicked then before, he snapped. Quickly he got out of the car, slamming the door before quickly striding around to your door. You visibly sank further into the seat when he pulled the door open, a whimper leaving your lips as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you up and out with a gentleness Yunho was surprised he could even manage right now.

The second he saw tears running down your face, another apology spilling from your reddened lips, he boxed you in against the frame of the car, unable to stay quiet for much longer. “He was in my spot-” Before you could even process what the words met, his lips were on yours, a pleased groan rumbling the back of his throat as he finally got a taste of you.

He had every intention of pulling away, of apologizing for his lack of control, but you kissed him back- and all reason left him. He pressed closer, large hands moving to your waist to hold you still as he pinned you with his body, allowing you to feel the strain in his pants that had been a constant problem the entire ride from the restaurant. He loved how small you were beneath him like this, the feel of your hands gripping at his jacket to pull him closer despite how close he already was, his knee pushing your thighs apart and riding up until he could feel your heat on the fabric of his thigh.

He cursed, pulling his lips from yours with a heavy pant as they moved along your jawline. “Tell me to stop- fuck, tell me no. I have been trying to tell myself the whole ride- no since I first saw you in this fucking dress- so tell me no so I can stop.” His words were low, guttural, ending as heated pants against your earlobe.

Your hands lifted up to wrap around his neck, your hips moving to grind yourself against his thigh, effectively wetting the fabric with the wet lace of your own underwear. The second his lips had been on yours all of your anxiety and worry had melted away, the need for this man resurfacing with a vengeance once more. “What if I don’t want you to stop Yuyu?” Definitely not when the simple touches, his body pressed against yours like this, made you feel so good you didn't want to stop any time soon- or ever.

He groaned from the use of your nickname for him, his grip tightening for just a moment, pulling you along his thigh to give you the friction your body seemed to be craving. He bit down just under your ear, pleased with the soft moan that spilled from your swollen lips. “I’m claiming my spot then-”

Again, before you could ask, he was picking you up in his arms, making your straddle his waist as he shut the car door, locking it with the fob before he headed to your apartment, your small purse in his free hand while the other held your rear and kept your dangerously close against him.

With every step the bulge in his pants moved against your clothed core, teasing the both of you incessantly. Unfortunately for you, the elevator ride held a couple of other tenants coming home from work, so you buried your head in shame into the crook of Yunho’s neck and hoped the other tenants wouldnt ask.

When they looked a few too many times, Yunho however gave them an answer that had you fidgeting against him, warmth pooling in your belly. “My girlfriend had too much to drink is all.”

His girlfriend.

Yunho liked saying it as much as you liked hearing it, and after what he was going to do to you he would make it very clear that is what you are now. No other person to take on dates or dress up for other than him.

The two of you got off before the last tenant, and he found his familiar way to your apartment door, only then setting you down. Your legs were shaky, and there were bite marks on Yunho’s nape now from where you had to bite back moans whenever he would rub against you just right that the urge to buck your own hips was unbearable. However you managed to make it to your apartment without dry humping him was lost on you.

Of course, the moment your feet were on the ground, your need for him had you rushing your actions, getting the keys out of your bag and fiddling with the door as Yunho held your waist from behind, kissing along your neck and leaving matching marks. He guided you inside quickly, kicking your door shut and reveling in the immediate moan you let out when he ground his hips into your ass.

“Yunho~”

“Yes baby?” His voice was deep, raspy against your flesh as his hands were already at work, tugging your skirt up.

“What did you mean by your spot?” You were ready to kick yourself for asking such a question when in reality all you wanted was him to fuck you senseless. You could hardly believe this was the same Jeong Yunho that you had known since grade school, the same big lovable dork and teddy bear, that seemed to always be happy and loving- yet right now you wanted nothing more than for him to manhandle and use your body for his own desires.

He chuckled, kicking his shoes off as you did the same just before he turned you in his arms and once again picked you up, bucking his hips up into your core. “I couldn’t stand it, watching him fawn over you. All I could think about was that you should be looking at me like that.”

“You didn’t feel this way when I was dating-”

“Don’t bother with him.” Yunho growled out, crashing his lips to yours as he moved through your darkened apartment to your bedroom. “Don’t ask when, or how, I just do, and it was evident tonight. I always sit to your left. I should be the one you wear pretty dresses for. I mean I know it isn’t a matter of should... but I wanted to be.” He breathed against your lips before laying you on your bed, pushing your dress up further.

You realized that he had discovered his feelings for you tonight just as you had: two oblivious idiots now struggling with an ocean of emotions for each other and only one outcome you both wanted.

You blinked up at him when he pulled his lips away, moving back just enough to pull the fabric up and off, tossing it somewhere in your room to be immediately forgotten. His eyes flitted down your body, taking in the matching lacy bra and underwear with wonder at first before his upper lip pulled back a bit.

“Did you wear these for him?” There was a bit of a growl to his words, his thumbs dipping under the waistband of your underwear and pulling them away before letting the elastic snap back to your skin a bit harshly.

You could lie, save yourself from the wrath brimming under the surface of his dark expression, but the thought of him unleashing it onto you was far too exciting to do so. Plus- you always wanted to be honest with Yunho, you always had been. “I did but-”

He didn’t let you finish, pulling the flimsy fabric down so harshly several holes formed in the lace and you knew they were ruined now. You clenched around nothing, gasping as he pushed your legs open and the cold air hitting your folds dripping with your arousal. He already had you so turned on, your brain already practically mush at the way he look at your core, licking his lips slowly as he leaned down.

He ran his thumb over your folds, groaning at the way your body reacted to the light touch, hips lifting to chase his touch. “Look at you, so wet for me and I haven’t even touched you yet.” He murmured approvingly, voice thick with his own need. His eyes moved up the length of you to meet your gaze, his tongue darting out once more. “I’ve been thinking about how good your thighs would look with my head in between them since you first sat in my car tonight in that fucking dress. Do you know how hard it was not to reach over and slip my hand between these plump thighs of yours?” Bit by bit the words were more guttural, one of his digits slowly pushing into you, stilling as you clenched around the appendage. “So fucking tight- all for me?”

“Mhmm-” You whined, lifting your hips as much as you could before his free hand gripped your upper thigh and pushed you back down on the bed to still you. “Yunho please-”

He had been inching closer and closer to your heated core, eyes on yours, only to pause as you whined. “Please what?” You could barely make out his smirk over your own body he was that close to where you so desperately needed some friction- for him to touch. “Use your words baby.” To taunt you, he curled his finger, pleased with the way your breath hitched.

Yunho had no idea how he was able to stop himself from already diving into your sweet inviting cunt, so desperate for a taste of you, for how wet he made you. It seemed only a thin string of morality and control was holding him back, as if he needed to hear your consent one last time before giving into the desires that had been pumping through his blood all night.

“Please eat me out- or finger me or- I don't care how just fuck me Yunho! I want you so bad, please please ple-” Your pleas turned into moans as he obliged, two fingers pumping into you and curling as his lips happily suckled on your bundle of nerves. Your hands moved from gripping the sheets to gripping his hair, holding him impossibly closer to you as your hips lifted to the rhythm he quickly set, your climax his clear goal.

You could hardly think about anything other than him and the pleasure he was giving you, a shiver running up your spine when he moaned against your nerves, switching between his lips sucking and his tongue applying pressure while his long fingers worked to find that one spot; when he did, he quickly pushed in a third, spreading them out and curling just right, your gut twisting with familiar coils as your high built.

Despite how good it was, how close you were, it wasn’t until he spoke against your clit the muffled words “Cum for me” for you to clench around his digits and soak his hand and mouth with your release. You cried out his name as he he fucked you through your high, mouth pulled away as not to over stimulate your sensitive bud, only pulling his fingers out when you begged him to.

He sat back on his knees, bringing his fingers to his lips to lick them clean, moaning at the taste of you. “Fuck how are you so sweet? I already want more, I could eat you out every day cupcake.”

You blushed at the new pet name, but you didn’t dislike it, a small smile playing on your lips as you looked down at him through hooded eyes. “Yuyu-” You whined, lifting your weak arms to make grabby hands at him, spreading your legs further. “Want you- feel you inside me please.”

Yunho was in awe at the sight of you, fucked out expression, your slick dripping from your still twitching cunt that you kept on display for him with perhaps the sweetest smile he had ever seen on your features, grabbing at him and whining for him to fuck you. It was more than his deepest fantasies that he had never allowed himself to have about you, but clearly still had in the back of his mind. “Fuck-”

He discarded his clothes quickly, tossing them every which way until he was naked at the end of the bed, cock throbbing against his stomach, already leaking precum. He didn’t give you time to appreciate the sight, moving over you and hooking his hands under your knees before pushing them up. He huffed as he realized you were still wearing your bra, and after hooking your legs in the crook of his elbows he lifted you up to undo the clasp and removed the article with much more care than he had your underwear.

For a moment he paused to appreciate your freed breasts, once more licking his lips as he rutted the length of his cock against your folds, covering it with your slick. “Look at you, so fucking perfect- I’m an idiot for not realizing sooner.” He crashed his lips to yours with a newfound need, emotions pouring into your mouth with each brush of his lips and pant into your mouth once he pushed his tongue in to mingle with yours. It was if he couldn’t get enough of you, breaking away only to lay you back down.

He moved his hands back to the back of your thighs, pushing them up and wide until your knees were pressed against your arms. You gripped your calves, staring up at him as he directed his attention down, freeing on hand to guide the head of his cock into you. Your head fell back as he pushed in, stretching you out with more girth- and with each inch pushed in- more length than you were used to.

He bottomed out, groaning as your walls clenched around him, trying to get used to his size, but Yunho had little patience left after that dinner, little control over the enormous amount of emotions that had overwhelmed him since you first opened your apartment door to him tonight. “This- this is my spot, buried deep in your cunt, far deeper than any one else could ever touch-”

The little green monster reared it’s head once more as he pulled out, eyes fixated where you were joined while your own head was lolled back and panting. “Fuck- even your cunt knows who it belongs to, sucking me back in, aching at my absence. Does it feel that good baby?” He slammed his full length back in, eyes flitted to your face as you cried out, nodding in answer. “Too fucked out to speak already? But I just started laying my claim- come on, let me hear that sweet voice of yours cupcake.”

“It feels so good Yuyu! PLease dont stop!” You cried out, hips lifting to chase his as he began to pull out once more. Your head already felt as if it was full of cotton, but it wasn’t overwhelming in the slightest.

Pleased, he slammed his hips back into yours, letting out a soft groan. “Tell me cupcake, who does this cunt belong to?” Throwing caution to the wind, and liking the way his words made you clench around him, Yunho buried himself into you over and over, letting the little green monster have control over the reigns. Normally he would never be so rough with you, and with this being the first time you took his cock he knew he would regret it later- but you just looked so good bouncing beneath him like this.

His hands held your legs in place, your own having moved to grip his wrists and dig your nails down into his flesh as if to try and pull him closer, which resulted in just enough of a shift for him to hit and rub against your g-spot with every harsh thrust. “Y-you! It belongs to you!” You cried out, feeling your high quickly approaching as he continued with reckless abandon. “Yu-yu I’m-! I’m gunna-! so close-”

“Come for me. Come on my cock baby.” His thrusts became more erratic, sweat beading his brow and breath heavy as he leaned down, capturing one of your bouncing tits in his mouth, hooking your ankles behind his neck and groaning as your hands flung to dig your nails into his back. He felt deeper in you at this angle, two more thrusts until you were clenching so tightly around him that even he thought he felt stars, his own climax pulled out of him as he moaned against your flesh, the sound drowned out by your own cry of pleasure.

When you began to shake beneath him his hips stopped, pumping the last of his cum deep into you and laying claim in the most primal way. Pride filled him as he knew no other would be able to fill you so deeply, nor would he let anyone ever get the chance. He kissed up your chest to your neck and then up over your jaw before peppering your lips with sweet chaste kisses as you both worked on catching your breath. Slowly he pulled your legs out from under him, situating them down flat on the bed on either side of him as you giggled under his lips.

The little green monster was long gone, and all that was left was his overwhelming love for you that he just needed to expression in every way he could. “I love you cupcake. So so much, I’m an idiot for not realizing it sooner.”

You were elated, legs and arms jelly but you still wrapped your arms around his neck, giggling against his lips only to whine when he finally pulled out of you. You felt his cum and your own gush out of your folds and pool beneath your bum. “You are a big idiot-”

“Hey-”

“But so am I.” You interrupted his protest, placing a kiss to his sweaty forehead. “I should've realized I loved you sooner as well. Then we could have both been spared that awkward date.”:

He captured your lips in his once more, pulling away only when you were both breathless and giddy. “Let’s agree to never mention that dinner again.”

You nodded. “Agreed.”

“And also that I always sit to your left, no matter what.” He pointed out as he leaned away from you, maneuvering to slip off your bed and head to the bathroom, the light from the city had illuminated your bedroom enough through the one window, but the little night light you kept in the bathroom also helped you watch his rear as he walked towards said room.

“Does it matter that much Yuyu?” You whined, rolling onto your side so you could keep watching him.

He glanced back over his shoulder as he flicked the bathroom light on, a soft pout on his features. “Of course it matters- That’s been my spot since the day I met you. I get the left side of the bed too!” He called back in a singsong voice.

You could only laugh, recalling the day in grade school you two had met: new seating arrangements and you sat in a seat to your left so you could sit by the window to daydream, only for Yunho to come up and proudly proclaim “That’s my spot. You sit there.” He had pointed to the seat next to it, no hints of malice or anger when he spoke, just kindly correcting you. You had apologized, moved, and he took his seat.

And somehow ever since, he had always been on your left. Every class, every lunch, when you two went on walks, and now as he curled into your freshly made bed, he laid to your left and pulled you against his chest. You curled against him happily, sighing at how right it felt. “This is my spot.” You used his words against him, placing a kiss to his bare chest just over his heart.

He hummed in agreement, and like that, it was just another way to say “I love you” between the two of you.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez ot8 #ateez yunho #yunho x reader #yunho #jeong yunho #yunho brainrot is real #yunho smut #non idol au #possessive yunho #baistander #doomies #one shot

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