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cinnaminsvga · 1 year ago

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Harana | Jungkook

harana (n.): the act of wooing someone by serenading them

→ summary:

Unwilling to settle down with you after five years of dating, Jeon Jungkook decides to break up to chase after his dreams. In the aftermath, you leave your hometown, desperate to forget your past and relearn what it means to be on your own. Two years later while on your way to work, you pass by a familiar voice singing songs about a girl he had left behind.

{or alternatively: Jungkook still sings the love songs that he wrote for you. He still means them, too.}

→ genre: busker!au, exes to lovers, angst, humor → warnings: jimin is insane and kinda crude (he has some issues going on), jungkook is a pathetic wet bunny but he's trying his best, oc has So Many Problems, so much arguing and yearning, ambiguous ending??? but my god there is hope!! the humanity of it all!! → words: 16.1K → a/n: HOLY SHIT IM BACK (kinda) and happy new year!! yeah ok its march but im relearning how to form coherent sentences so be patient ;w; this is the first installment of my hfoh series that i teased a LONG time ago... i made it a resolution to complete this series by the end of the year before i kms (Keep Myself Safe) so here's to a brand new year :D (oh god @ universe pls be kind)

part of the “heart full of hugot” series

Two days before the incident, your shower nozzle decides to explode.

Okay, you have to admit that statement is a little misleading. Shower nozzles, in all its nonsentience, do not randomly decide to explode no matter how much you try to defend yourself to your landlord. Maybe your grip had been a little too harsh that morning, or maybe hanging 5 pounds of hair products on the handle had been a bit too much for the old sport to handle. Or maybe, just maybe, the universe was warning you about the incident.

Whatever it was, it doesn’t erase the fact that your shower would be out of commission for the next week or so (though your landlord seems adamant about prolonging your suffering as long as possible). Until then, you’re going to have to find some other ways to keep the grease and grime from building on you. Heavens know that you already have a thriving ecosystem living in the back of your couch—you don’t need another one growing under your armpits.

Lucky for you, you have friends. More importantly, you have friends who have showers. There is one problem though—all your friends live on the other side of the country.

It’s been two years since you moved to the Big City™️, but you have done little to grow your social network. Call it introversion or depression, either way, you have no more contacts on your phone than you did when you left your hometown. Well, except for one person, if you could even consider him one. Frankly, you didn’t have a choice.

“Welcome to my humble abode, stinky,” Jimin greets you as you enter his house. Your nose is instantly assaulted by the smell of Bath & Body Works® Sweet Pea, reminding you once more why you didn’t consider him a friend.

“Hey,” you reply gruffly, shucking your ratty shoes near his entrance. Your shoes look incredibly out of place amidst the sea of designer Chelsea boots and a singular pair of thigh-high heels. You take a glance at his living room, already feeling worse about yourself tenfold.

You had met Park Jimin by complete accident, much like how his mother probably felt when she first saw him too. You had never known anyone quite as… interesting as him, to put it lightly.

When you got your job as a hostess for a luxury bar and restaurant, you figured you wouldn’t make many friends with your coworkers. Everyone was so… pretty, but in the shiny, untouchable sort of way. Almost all of the servers were as gorgeous as the models you’d see in magazines. You hadn’t known that the owners only hired a certain “demographic” of people for their restaurant, and you were equal parts flattered and disgusted that you’d somehow made it (though you suppose your bullshitting skills were all to thank).

Unsurprisingly, even the bartenders were gorgeous, including one Park Jimin. He did have an aura to him that screamed “I’m a cut above the rest and I know it,” but that could just be the gold chains dripping down his neck. You almost mistook him as one of the patrons who mistakenly made his way behind the bar, and knowing the sort of clientele you’ve had to deal with so far, you wouldn’t have been surprised. It took a couple of weeks before you finally found out who he was (and what his fucking problem was).

Jimin was a part-time bartender with a full-time job as a bitch a self-made entrepreneur. Which is to say, he sold… tasteful photos of himself on the internet. You had nothing against his line of work. In fact, you would go far as to say you didn’t give a shit what he did outside of your shared workspace. But if there’s one thing Jimin is, it’s that he hates being ignored.

So when you were adamant about not oohing and aahing at everything that makes Park Jimin perfect, he made it his self-appointed mission to befriend you. Or at least that’s what he claims, but given how he treats you lesser than the shit that cakes his cheeks, you have a lot of doubts. Perhaps he’s never made an effort to make a friend, hence his inexperience with being a decent human being. Or perhaps he’s just an asshole, but who is to say? The point is: he’s the only person you knew in this godforsaken city who would likely allow you to use his shower without being awkward about it and that’s that.

The worst part about being an acquaintance with Park Jimin was that he lived in the richest area of Downtown but he wasn’t old money, that’s for sure. His entire essence screamed overconsumption, and his myriad of little trinkets littered across his apartment confirmed your previous assessment. You wouldn’t be surprised if you opened his freezer and found ten types of ice sorted assorted by color and shape like the extra bitch that he was.

He made his money through sheer force, and it would have impressed you if he wasn’t, you know. Him.

“Bathroom is over there. I placed a towel and other shower amenities that you can borrow,” he says pointing to a door with a large “FART ZONE: ENTER WITH CAUTION” sign taped to it. You don’t ask.

“Thanks,” you say flatly. You wait patiently for his out-of-pocket comment.

Like clockwork, Jimin smirks. “Sure thing. I gave you the super heavy-duty stuff. Figured you’d burn a hole through my expensive towels with how stinky you are, with your yeasty cu—”

“Aaaand I’ll be done in a few minutes. Thanks again Jimin,” you interrupt, making your way to the bathroom and slamming the door with as much force as you can muster. You hear something fall as the door shuts, and you vaguely hear Jimin mutter something about his “fart zone” signage.

You begin to prepare your shower routine, humming lowly as you go about your business. You try to ignore the suffocating scent of ten million diffusers entering your nostrils, wondering for the umpteenth time if Jimin is suffering from long-term olfactory dysfunction.

“Focus, Y/N. The quicker you shower, the quicker you can get the fuck out of here,” you whisper to yourself. However, in your haste, you knock over Jimin’s towel by accident. When the towel falls, a sheet of sandpaper slips out from underneath it, and you stare bemusedly until it finally hits you.

“YOU ARE SUCH A LITTLE BITCH!”

From behind the door, you can hear Jimin’s infamous cackle. “Did you find the loofah? I got it just for you, darling!” he shouts back through his laughter, and you just grumble back in response. How on earth no one has strangled him to death, you have no idea.

“Whatever. I’m gonna shower now! Go beat off or whatever the fuck you do in your spare time,” you grouse, stripping as quickly as possible.

When the first droplets of water hit your body, you can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. You had both anticipated and dreaded going to Jimin’s house, but you desperately needed the shower. So you go through your routine, trying to find some semblance of relaxation throughout the process. However, it seems that Jimin was yearning for a little bit of attention as he chose to recline on the other side of the door and chat your ear off. Peace was never an option, it seems.

“Hey, Y/N! So why haven’t I seen you at work recently?” Jimin hollers from his living room. Despite the wall separating you, his voice manages to retain its volume.

You squirt a large glob of Jimin’s (expensive) conditioner onto your hands. “What do you mean? I go to work every day. You were the one who hasn’t been clocking in.”

You can hear Jimin scoff. “Um, correction! I went to work last Friday, which so happened to be your day off. If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed you were avoiding me.”

And right you are, you think. But instead, you say, “Yeah, what a coincidence. I’ll be back to my regular schedule on Monday, though.”

“So that means you didn’t see the Justin Bieber wannabe stationed outside the restaurant then?” Jimin asks, voice miffed. “The guy suddenly sat down by the entrance window and a whole damn crowd started to appear! The absolute nerve of these people—don’t they know Park Jimin was just past the doors?”

This provokes Jimin to go on his long epic soliloquy, which you’ve learned to drown out over the past two years. He could go on hour-long tirades if he wanted, and any interruption from you would just bounce off his nonfunctioning ears. And so, you allow his voice to fall to the back of your mind, similar to white noise if it wasn’t so grating.

However, this was likely your greatest mistake. If you hadn’t been so exhausted, or if Park Jimin hadn’t been so damn annoying all the time, or if the stars had aligned just right… Maybe you would have been forewarned about the incident. It’s as if the universe was screaming at you to pay attention, but alas… You were standing on the proverbial highway, unbeknownst to the incoming traffic because you had your metaphorical AirPods on.

So there you are, completely showered but none the wiser to your impending doom, naively looking to the future with unsuspecting eyes. Even if you had known of what was to come, would avoiding it even be possible? In hindsight, you suppose not, but you still kick yourself for being so blind. If only you’d steeled your heart, then maybe you wouldn’t have felt like vomiting in front of a crowd of innocent bystanders the very next day.

xxx

Monday comes and your shower still isn’t fixed. Jimin makes the benevolent gesture of allowing you to use his shower in the meantime, though you’ll only partake in his offer as minimally as possible. He does mention that he’ll need at least an hour’s notice, warning you about “accidental voyeurism.” You shudder to think of what sort of horror you might find if you did visit him without warning, and you pray for the continued well-being of your retinas.

On your way to work, you’re too busy watching cute videos of animals to notice the unusual flock of people idling close to your workplace. When you get closer, however, the growing commotion is enough to rip your gaze away from your phone, and the sight of the large crowd makes you stop in your tracks.

It is 4 pm and the usual line of waiting patrons should not start piling up for another three hours, so this confuses you more than anything. You shuffle closer, squinting at the crowd until you notice that they aren’t lined up at all; instead, they have congregated into a large circle, but you are too far to see what they are surrounding.

An accident? You worry, wondering if something terrible happened. You tiptoe above the heads of people, subtly moving forward to take a better look. Curse you and your curiosity. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself to see something grotesque or astonishing, but instead…

It’s worse.

Inching closer, you can begin to hear a soft thrumming of a guitar and a gentle singing voice that causes alarm bells to ring in your ears. The warm melody digs up old memories of a time long past: of ballads sung outside your childhood bedroom window, of promises whispered under Spiderman sheets, of tender caresses tucking stray hairs behind your ears… They flood your senses, but all you can feel is dread.

It can’t be who you think it is. You accidentally elbow a guy on your way to get closer, unsteadying his grip on his phone.

“Hey, watch it! I’m filming a totally not-staged TikTok over here!” He yells, but you can hardly pay attention to him when you feel unnaturally drawn to come closer, still.

You’re nearly at the front, with just a couple of teenagers standing between you and the (not-so) mysterious street performer. But the distance is enough, and your breath catches. You can see him—

Black hair partially hidden under a bucket hat. Boots bigger than Pangaea and a pair of eyes equally as large. Dark ink snaking down his arms, peeking out from under oversized sleeves. Piercings that could rival Park Jimin on a good day. He isn’t facing you, but you can still see his big doe eyes, gentle sloping nose, and pretty lips stretched into a handsome smile.

Your heart is thundering in your chest. This can’t be happening, you panic. After two whole years of rebuilding and reshaping yourself, relearning how to be yourself and not… not just his girlfriend.

Jeon Jungkook stands before you, busking in front of your workplace of all locations. The universe could not have been any crueler to you.

You—you had been known as nothing more than Jeon Jungkook’s high school sweetheart. Buried memories of snide comments from jealous teen girls fill your mind, reminding you of the time when you were coined a simple side piece to the main attraction. Decor, as they would call you. Nothing more than a girl who happened to snag Jungkook before people realized he was going to turn… hot. A hot guy who could sing. An inevitable chic magnet, as they would call him.

And now, years later after much therapy and soul searching, your worst nightmare is standing in front of you in the flesh. This is what you will eventually dub the incident.

At that moment, however, there is little to no time to dwell on naming this ongoing core memory. All you can feel is the adrenaline pumping through your veins, as well as the nausea rising up your throat. You stumble backward, blatantly shoving onlookers away as you struggle to find some air to breathe. In hindsight, you probably should have backed away as subtly as possible, but you hope that your dyed hair might be different enough that Jungkook wouldn’t know it was you if he had glanced your way.

Even when you stagger towards your work establishment, the walls cannot perfectly muffle his soothing singing. You can’t make out the lyrics to his song too well, but his unmistakable voice is hard to ignore. Working as a hostess, your station is also coincidentally as close to the door as possible for maximum torture.

This can’t get any worse, you think as your mind races with conflicting emotions. You thought you had moved on, thought you were past the pain and the memories, but seeing Jungkook again, unexpectedly, stirs up a storm of feelings you thought were buried deep. Anger, hurt, betrayal—all rush to the surface, threatening to overwhelm you.

But there is no time to unpack all that baggage right now. Time will continue to march on, and your job is still on the line. How can you have the time to have a mental breakdown when you were still living paycheck to paycheck?

But even as you try to push Jungkook out of your mind, his voice echoes in your ears, his image burned into your memory. It's as if the universe is laughing at your misery, reminding you that despite all your supposed growth, you are still just you.

Painfully and pathetically you.

As you struggle to pull yourself together, a familiarly loud voice rings outside the edge of your consciousness. “Hey, Y/N! Fancy seeing you here…” Jimin greets you, his usual jovial demeanor halting midway when he sees your panicked expression. He clears his throat, perplexed. “Umm… Are you alright there, girl? You’re looking a little pale.”

You do not even have the mental capacity to wonder why Park Jimin was miraculously early to his shift, nor why he seems genuinely worried for you. Rather, all you can do is wave him off and use what little time you have before the restaurant opens to steel yourself for hours of melodious torture.

“I’m fine, Park. You should get to work,” you grit out, wiping your sweaty palms on your uniform. Normally, Jimin would have teased you about the obvious wrinkles on your skirt.

“You’re not the boss of me,” Jimin huffs, always the contrarian. He thinks better of it, however, and softens his tone. “Are you feeling sick or something? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

You freeze, perhaps giving yourself away a little. “I’m fine,” you repeat.

“You know, if you refuse to elaborate, I’m going to have to retract your shower privileges,” Jimin taunts with a smirk.

You feel a migraine growing by your temple, making you wince. God, why must men be the source of all your problems?

“I’m just… a little annoyed by the busker outside the restaurant,” you eventually admit, trying to be vague. Unfortunately for you, Jimin hates beating around the bush and would never take your crap if he knows something is up.

Unable to withstand the weight of his unimpressed stare, you clarify, “He was someone I used to know, that’s all.” You aren’t going to be any more specific than that, though you imagine Jimin gets the picture. You zip your lips, hoping to whoever is causing you pain that Jimin would somehow let the matter drop and leave you to your misery.

You brace yourself for his onslaught of questioning to come, and… it doesn’t happen. Instead, when you glance at Jimin, he is mysteriously stone faced. You wait for him to speak for what feels like a few minutes, but he doesn’t show any signs of wanting to tease or ridicule you. He simply watches you with a pensive expression. You can barely stop yourself from staring back at him, slack-jawed at his silence.

Of course, you aren’t just going to question your luck, or what little you have at least. So, you stay silent back and fidget uncomfortably.

Finally, Jimin seems to snap out of his strange reverie. He fixes you with a bizarrely sympathetic grin, patting you affectionately on the back. “I see… Well, if you ever need a drink tonight, head over to the bar for a little sip. I got you covered,” is all he says in response before sashaying away.

That was so fucking weird. You want to chase after him, perhaps beat the truth out of him. Jimin is nothing but a scheming dick, and you aren’t about to let him roam free with such sensitive information about yourself. Just as you’re about to stomp his ass (perhaps to relieve some of the building tension from your weary soul), your manager pops his head from his office door.

“Y/N! Make sure you’re logged into the booking system. There’s going to be a party of 20 coming in about an hour,” he reminds you, shooting you an apologetic look. You nod back with a sigh, swiping the booking tablet from the hostess desk and scrolling through the logs. Sure enough, it is going to be a busy night despite being a Monday evening. Perhaps a little busier than usual, in fact.

Whatever. You will use whatever distraction you can get, and perhaps the approaching noise from the restaurant patrons will be enough to drown out the sound of his voice.

You aren’t religious by any means, but you pray to whatever higher power exists that Jeon Jungkook doesn’t somehow decide to enter the restaurant. Stay outside, you plead. Outside the restaurant and your life, if possible.

Throughout the evening, you do your best to push aside the memories that threaten to resurface. You greet customers with a smile, lead them to their tables, and ensure their dining experience is pleasant despite the anxiety poisoning your insides. It's a routine you've perfected over time, a shield against the chaos of your emotions.

As the night wears on, you can feel Jimin's eyes on you from across the restaurant. You sneak glances back at him, and you blanch at his pitying gaze. If the restaurant had been slightly less crowded, you would have flipped him off.

He’s probably enjoying my suffering, you think darkly. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction, you straighten up and do your best to appear more unaffected. Just as you do so, you can hear Jungkook perfectly hitting a soulful high note.

“I’m so sorry for thinking I was strong,” you whisper to the universe. “Forgive me for my insolence.” You clench your fist in anguish, ignoring the confused looks from the customers in front of you.

By the time your shift comes to a close, you are completely and utterly drained. You feel like a snail that has been continuously salted over the past eight hours, and you cannot help but cheer in relief when the clock finally strikes two in the morning. You have to wait for the last few diners to make their leave, but otherwise you are ready to let your bed swallow you whole.

You stand by your hostess desk, leaning your head against it with a defeated sigh. Jungkook’s voice had died down only a few minutes ago, and you hope that by this point he has mercifully left the premises. You want to take a peek to make sure, but just as you’re about to make your way to the door, you feel a hand on your shoulder stop you in your tracks.

“‘Sup, bitch.” Jimin still has that weird, pitying gaze pointed at you, though his words don’t match it. “Are you okay to go home alone tonight? I can bring your dumb ass home if you want.”

You shove his hand away, ready to bite his head off when you think better of it. If Jimin drives you home, then that lowers the chances of seeing Jungkook down to pretty much zero.

“You know what? Thanks,” you grouse. Jimin smiles at you winningly, and the image of it brings a shiver down your spine. You hit him, creeped out. “Hey. Stop that, will you? You’re being really weird?”

Jimin scoffs, crossing his arms. “Me? Weird? At least I don’t look like a damn firework ready to explode just because my cringelord ex-boyfriend is singing sappy love songs outside—”

“Shut the fuck up,” you seethe, stomping on his foot. He yelps in pain and slaps your shoulder in retaliation.

“Ouch! Watch your ogre feet! My shoes are worth twice your monthly rent I’ll have you know,” he bristles. He breathes deeply, likely finding his inner calm (which you doubt exists). “But because I’m so nice, I’ll ignore your earlier transgression and blame it on your underdeveloped amygdala.”

You don’t know what’s more surprising: the fact that Jimin knew what an amygdala was or that he was forgiving you in the first place. “Whatever. Let’s finish closing up and then head out. I’m exhausted.”

You make quick work of your task and when you’re ready to head out, Jimin is already waiting by the backdoor. He’s twirling his car keys with a finger and gestures for you to follow him. As you make your way to his car in the back parking lot, you catch sight of a lone figure standing next to a beat-up pickup truck. He’s leaning against it, his hands busy tuning a battered guitar.

Your breath hitches, and you immediately feel nauseous. Of course the incident has yet to end. The night is young, after all.

Jimin accidentally slams the backdoor closed, and the noise wrenches Jungkook’s attention away from his ministrations. Immediately, his eyes lock with Jimin before finally turning to you.

Your heart skips a beat as he gazes at you, your mind racing with a hurricane of emotions. You hadn’t expected to see him again so soon, especially not after the tumultuous encounter earlier in the day. What did you say earlier? That “the chances of seeing Jungkook was down to pretty much zero”?

The chances of seeing Jungkook is low, but never zero, your mind unhelpfully supplies.

There is a long period of awkward silence. Jungkook has his mouth slightly agape, his hand subconsciously lowering his guitar to rest against his truck. To your left, Jimin’s breathing quickens slightly. You, on the other hand, are trying your best not to projectile vomit in this damned parking lot.

Jungkook is the one who decides to break the delicate silence. “Is that you…?” he calls out hesitantly.

Don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my—

“Y/N,” Jimin interjects. His gaze is steel cold, uncharacteristic of the carefree boy. He slings an arm around your shoulders, gently nudging you towards his car. With your view still fixed on Jungkook, you miss the way Jimin shoots the other boy with a playful smirk. “C’mon, babe. Let’s go home.”

His words startle both you and Jungkook. “Wha—? Jimin?” you splutter, flushing at his flirtatious undertone. You want to curse him out for his strange behavior, but all the shock has left you mute.

Jimin all but shoves you into the passenger seat. But just as he’s about to slam the car door, you hear Jungkook call out your name. It’s fleeting and quiet, but you heard him crystal clear.

It breaks your spirit to hear him say your name. For a moment, you feel as though you are floating.

When was the last time he called your name? And so softly, too? If you could replay that moment over and over, would you be able to catch some signs of tenderness in his voice? When you close your eyes later that night, would your dreams show you that he had been gazing at you with yearning? Was any of it true?

As Jimin starts the car and pulls away from the curb, you steal one last glance out the window, only to find Jungkook staring at you with an arm outstretched. You continue to watch him until his figure disappears into the night.

You are quietly immersed in your own thoughts, the whirlwind of emotions intensifying your persistent migraine. Unaccustomed to silence, Jimin decides to give his unsolicited two cents, as per usual.

“Geez. Didn’t know you were into the whole starving artist type. If I’d known, then maybe I’d stop trying to brag about my fortune to you,” Jimin scoffs. “If loser buskers like him impress you, then maybe I should—”

“Would you shut the fuck up for once in your fucking life!” You explode, whirling to face him with a glare. Jimin has the audacity to flinch, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the road.

“What the fuck? Why the hell are you mad at me?”

“What the hell was that back there? ‘C’mon babe.’” You mimic his voice with a sneer. “Why on earth would you do that? Now he thinks that we…”

“Why do you care what he thinks? He’s your ex, remember?” Jimin cuts you off, but you can’t even refute him. He continues, “Figured as much. And judging by how spooked you’ve looked all day, I have to assume that he was an asshole, right? Why else would you accept my offer for a ride home if you really wanted to avoid seeing him?”

You shrink under his accurate assumptions. Damn, were you really that easy to read? “I… I mean, yeah but…” You clear your throat, still feeling wronged by him. “You didn’t have to act like a weird prick in front of him!”

Without warning, the floodgates burst forth. You begin to ramble, the thoughts that have been weighing you down pouring out of you in waves. “Jungkook was my ex, yeah. But he wasn’t an asshole. On the contrary, he was really sweet. The nicest guy in my school, at least. Wouldn’t hurt a fly, that sort of person. I dated him all throughout high school and he was a great partner.”

Jimin hums skeptically. “Then why the messy break-up?”

“It wasn’t messy!” You retort defensively.

“Could’ve fooled me!” Jimin snorts. “I also frequently act like a trembling kitten when I see my exes,” he says sarcastically.

You ignore him. “The reason we broke it off was because he wanted to pursue his dreams to become a singer after high school and I wanted to do other things. It was a mutual break-up! Honestly, I’m glad that we did. Too many girls wanted him and all the unwanted attention was getting on my nerves. I was glad to find a reason to end it all,” you explain, hoping you didn’t sound as shaky as you felt. What you said was mostly true, though you left out the important bits to yourself. Mostly to save some of your dignity intact. (Truthfully, you just didn’t want to admit things you weren’t ready to face.)

“Then if you’re so glad, why do you look like you wanted to shit yourself? It ain’t adding up,” Jimin fires back.

“It’s just—” you stammer, trying to find a reason why you were so bent out of shape after seeing him. “I-I was caught off guard, I guess. I knew he was pursuing his dreams to sing and all, so I expected him to leave the country. I wasn’t expecting to see him outside where I work, of all places,” you mutter lamely. You have your head bowed, biting your lips from the nerves. Again, you weren’t totally lying.

Jimin is silent for a moment, contemplating your admission. When he looks so calm like this, it’s hard to get a read on what he’s thinking. As Jimin speeds down the highway, the street lights illuminate his face in a strange way, and for once, he looks like a stranger. His steely expression makes you nervous, for some reason.

Eventually, he asks you a question you would never have expected. “And he just let you go?”

You pause. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Jimin huffs, irritated. “He just up and left without a fight? If I were him, I would have…” he trails off, his jaw clenching.

You don’t know where this Jimin came from. Under the moonlight, Jimin looks livid, but that can’t be right. Jimin, mad for you? Sure, you’ve seen his anger directed towards you, but this? Everything’s gotten so complicated, and you are just about ready to succumb to sleep and hope to wake from this nightmare.

The rest of the drive to your house is silent, save for the sounds coming from passing cars. Jimin pulls up to your apartment complex, his mysterious anger finally subsiding.

Just as you’re about to reach for the car door handle, Jimin places a hand on your shoulder. “Listen, Y/N. I’ll talk to management tomorrow morning. I know the manager well enough that I can probably convince him to do something about that ex of yours. He’s busking on private property, so it should be easy to get rid of him,” Jimin says, tone serious. He swallows, and for a moment you think he looks a little nervous. “If that’s what you want, I guess.”

His kindness scares you. You want to tease him, ask him where Mr. Bitchy and his $2000 Chelsea boots had gone. Anything to make this air of severe sincerity to abate. This new Jimin feels suffocating. But instead, you nod your head stiffly.

Jimin makes a pained expression for a moment, but it’s quickly replaced by his usual playful smirk. He slaps you upside the head, laughing heartily at your stunned face.

“Get some rest, babe. I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” he chuckles, reaching over to open the door for you. You scramble out into the cold city air, taking one last look back at him through his window.

He rolls it down, leaning forward to flash a toothy grin at you. “Hey, stop with all the angst, pookie. Wouldn’t want my favorite toy to get sick from overthinking. Who else would I bother at work if not you?”

You snort, both endeared and irritated in equal measure. He’s right. Everything was going back to normal tomorrow, you’re sure of it. You flip him off with a cheeky grin before making your way to your apartment.

Everything is going to be okay. Jimin says he’ll do something about it, and for whatever reason, you feel like you can trust him on this. Surely good fortune was soon to be upon you.

xxx

Jimin had texted you while you were still sleeping:

Spoke to Manager Jeong about your little problem. He said he’ll deal with him.

You breathe a sigh of relief, your body feeling significantly lighter. Your sleep last night had been tumultuous and restless. You feel more tired than you did when you went to bed, but all your weariness fades once you read Jimin’s text.

Once you make it to work, you find that management has gotten rid of Jungkook somehow. Added with the fact that your landlord has promised to look into repairing your shower (no guarantees, but you want to stay optimistic), today has been significantly better compared to yesterday. You even catch yourself humming as you set up your workstation, a small smile gracing your lips.

Jimin has a later shift this evening, and you find that you are somewhat disappointed for once. Your overwhelming gratitude is surely the only reason, otherwise you would never admit to wanting to see him at any given time.

You are in the midst of texting Jimin about all the good news when your manager passes by your desk. You are quick to pocket your phone away from his prying eyes, ready to defend that you aren’t slacking off… but his demeanor does not reveal any ire. In fact, he looks rather pleased for once.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeong. What’s up?” you ask, suspicious. You instinctively fold your hands behind your back; it is a subconscious effort on your part to keep your distance from him. Something about your manager always gives you a bad feeling when he looks a little too happy.

He grins widely. “Everything is going splendidly, Ms. Y/N. In fact, I think today might just be our lucky day!”

Never during your time working here has his and your luck ever coincided. “Our lucky day?” you echo.

“Why, yes! I spoke with your lovely friend and coworker Jimin this morning,” he starts, and immediately your alarm bells ring. You don’t even bother correcting him about the ‘friend’ part like you normally would. He continues, “He gave me a brilliant idea about the busker who had been performing in front of the restaurant the past two days.”

You nod slowly, not quite understanding. “Yes… The busker has been quite… the spectacle,” you say carefully. Somehow, you know calling Jungkook a ‘nuisance’ would have been the wrong choice in this instance.

Manager Jeong beams. “Exactly! You must have noticed the amount of people we served yesterday despite being a Monday. Additionally, almost all of those new customers requested outdoor seating no less!”

You feel the world tilt on its axis. What is he on abou—?

“What are you talking about?” you exhale.

“Don’t you think it would be even better for business if we got that busker to perform inside the restaurant? Why, it’s a brilliant idea and I don’t know why I didn’t think of it first! Our live band has always been missing something special, and perhaps a vocal accompaniment is the exact answer to our problem! Think about it, the atmosphere would be…”

Manager Jeong continues to prattle animatedly about his plans to your unhearing ears. There must be static or cotton plugging your head because you cannot possibly understand anything he is saying. Jungkook? Inside? Performing at your restaurant? But Jimin said he had spoken to the manager about getting Jungkook away from you! None of this makes sense.

“That makes no sense,” you verbalize, unknowingly cutting Manager Jeong from his monologue. He halts in surprise, as if now just realizing you were standing there (much less capable of interrupting or disagreeing with him). When he snaps out of it, you sense that familiarly sinister aura emerging from him in waves. You belatedly realize he must have mistaken your outburst as antagonistic.

“Well, Ms. Y/N. Whether it makes sense or not, we have hired Mr. Jeon to perform live at the bar stage for the next four weeknights. If, for some unknowable reason, I am incorrect,” he pauses to emphasize his words, “then his services will be promptly terminated. However, judging by his popularity from simply standing out in the cold and singing silly love songs, I am sure that worry is unwarranted.”

Behind you, the telltale sound of the main door swinging open catches you even more off guard. You do not even have the chance to turn to face the newcomer, only managing to register the gust of cold wind that accompanies their entry.

And so, you hear him before you see him.

“Hello?” Jeon Jungkook greets quietly.

Even without turning, you can imagine how he looks, how he stands, how he feels, how he tastes—

Manager Jeong claps his hands gleefully. “Splendid timing! Speak of the devil…” The older man nearly skips towards Jungkook like a youthful school girl, accompanied by his uncharacteristic squeals of excitement.

You can feel his gaze on you, almost tangibly. With nothing but your shreds of dignity left intact, you force yourself to face him.

He’s still so tall, is all your mind can helpfully supply as you stand feet away from your high school sweetheart for the first time in two years. He’s still wearing the same bucket hat from the night before, semi-shielding him from view. Despite that, you catch a small flash of white graze his bottom lip as he chews the soft flesh nervously.

“Hi, Y/N.” He addresses you directly, completely overlooking your manager without a single glance. Despite his hat, he still has his eyes lasered on you, as if not quite believing you were there. You hate how his attention makes you shiver all the same.

Even though he ignored your manager (which would have been a major dispute had you done the same), Jungkook still receives a friendly handshake in return. “Mr. Jeon! I’m surprised you know Ms. Y/N, though I’m sure you must have spoken with her when she was escorting guests to the outdoor seating the other day.”

You had actually gotten your co-hostess to seat all the outdoor seatings yesterday, but you weren’t going to mention that.

Manager Jeong claps him on the back, inadvertently causing Jungkook to stumble forward closer to you. He looks up at you then, eyes bugging out of their sockets like a rabbit caught in a bear trap. You stagger backwards in turn, barely concealing the anxiety on your face. Oh fucking hell.

Your manager is none the wiser, of course. “Well, this makes my job much easier! Since you’re both acquainted, I’ll let Y/N show you the ropes. The band doesn’t start their set until later in the evening, but you’re free to take a look at the stage and other parts of our facility in the meantime,” he says, chuffed. Meanwhile, Jungkook looks like he’s been shot by a freeze ray.

Then, your manager points a sharper gaze at you. “Ms. Y/N, treat our super star well. I know you won’t disappoint me.”

Fucking superstar… You can only nod in defeat. “Y-Yes, sir…” you whisper, clenching your uniform with your fists. It is the only way to keep them from shaking like a leaf. You watch as his figure disappears behind his office door, leaving you to fend for yourself. Powerless, you train your gaze to the floor, unwilling to meet Jungkook’s eyes.

But the nerves are taking control of your body, screaming at you to eject, eject, eject!

“Sorry, I have to go to the toilet,” you splutter quickly, almost tripping over yourself on the way to the restroom. You dimly wonder if Jungkook is going to think you’re leaving to throw up, but you can’t find any self-respect left to care. All you need is air and space to breathe—preferably away from him.

You slam open the stall, hardly checking to see if anyone else is around before locking the door shut. You sit on the toilet, plant your face between your knees, and scream.

Should you go home and use sickness as an excuse? But even if you did, you still had shifts every weeknight. You would have to see him eventually. You can pray all you want that Jungkook will be fired by the end of the week, but even your delusional mind can never fathom the idea that anyone would willingly want to send Jeon Jungkook away. Plus, you remember that the regular band that plays at the restaurant has been wanting to get a singer to accompany them for ages, and you know just how damn affable he can be. They are going to love him, and you hate him for that.

It is clear to you that there is no other option:

You pull out your phone to quickly open up Indeed on your browser, frantically hunting for any openings that might fit your measly qualifications. However, you have to pause in your search to deliberate. Wouldn’t it be better to move out of the country? You had been so naive to think that moving cities was enough distance between you and Jungkook—going across the ocean is the obvious answer. Should you start up your Duolingo lessons again and hope that you can somehow survive in a different continent with only a few dollars to your name?

You shut your phone in despair. Whether or not your plans of escape are feasible or not, in the short term, you are stuck with having to suck it up and just learn to ignore your ex-boyfriend’s presence. Surely you can force out a fake smile or two, especially with how much practice you’ve gotten after working with unbearably entitled customers.

Taking a step outside of the restroom stall, you head to the sink to splash some cold on your face. You stare at the mirror, confronted by a girl who looks two seconds away from having a Netflix Original-esque meltdown. You rake your fingers through your hair, doing your best to look like you aren’t about to rush into incoming traffic. To no one's surprise, it doesn't work.

“Okay, I got this. Just pretend like he’s just some guy, because at the end of the day, he is just some guy,” you mutter to your reflection. She looks back at you unconvinced. “He may have broken my heart into little bite size pieces, but who cares! HE’S JUST A GUY!” You repeat the phrase over and over again like a lunatic, in a desperate attempt to cognitively alter your brain chemistry.

At that moment, one of the other stalls in the restroom creaks open, and a girl you recognize who works as one of the dishwashers walks out. You both have a silent eye conversation as she quietly studies your crazed expression and crumpled work uniform.

Eventually, she awkwardly clears her throat, pointing to the only sink in the restroom. “Uh, sorry to hear about your, uh, guy problem. Could I use the sink please?”

You hastily back away, allowing her to take your spot. You don’t even have the energy to apologize for your spectacle, just bowing sheepishly to her before making your way back to the main hall. If she rats you out to the rest of your coworkers, then that gives you another reason to move out of the country. Maybe you should consider a name change while you’re at it.

When you exit the restroom, you half expect Jungkook to be waiting for you by the door, but find that he isn’t anywhere nearby. He isn’t by your hostess station either, and you thank your lucky stars for once. Even if your manager had asked you to show him around, you’re sure that Jungkook can find his way around just fine. Plus, the stage is at the corner of the restaurant and is sufficiently far enough that you wouldn’t have to make eye contact with him if you were careful.

You don’t know which greater entity has been messing with your sanity these past few days, but you hope that they can show you mercy just once—a brief reprieve, if anything.

You clasp your hands in prayer. I’ll eat more vegetables, I’ll remember to floss, I’ll call my parents from time to time… Just please let me survive tonight.

“Remember, Y/N… He’s just some guy,” you reiterate through gritted teeth. If a passing coworker happens to overhear your demented chanting, then you pay them no mind.

You walk towards the entrance, flipping the sign to open. You feel like a video game character when you glance at the clock, which signals the start of your shift. You can imagine the red bold text hovering above your head: 8 more hours until freedom.

This is just like playing Five Nights at Freddy’s, except you’ve only watched the movie and you suspect your life is probably worse than whatever Josh Hutcherson had to survive through.

You take a couple heaving breaths to brace yourself for what will be the longest eight hours of your life. You’ll show Jungkook just how well-adjusted and mature you’ve become. You are a professional, and not even a boy with angelic vocals will make you crumble. After all, what’s the worst he can do?

xxx

He could, in fact, do a lot worse than you thought.

“I have many regrets being born at all,” you mutter bleakly, three hours into your shift.

Jungkook had started singing only an hour ago, so you had been filled with false confidence at first when the restaurant was filled with nothing but ambient chatter and soothing jazz music. You felt more and more confident as the minutes ticked by and your anxiety slowly melted away. You even forgot that he was somewhere in the back, likely warming up or whatever it is that singers did before a performance.

However, your brief moment of courage shatters almost immediately when Jungkook finally takes the stage.

At first, you did your best to tune out his voice, but it’s especially hard when whoever was in charge of the sound system decided to crank his volume to an excruciating level. You wanted desperately to grab some napkins and shove them in your ears, but you suspected that your customers (and manager) would be unappreciative of that gesture. And so there you lay, forced to wallow in Jungkook’s melodious singing like a criminal strapped to an electric chair.

But how much more pleasant an electric chair would be! Why on earth was Jungkook so adamant to sing sad love songs the entire time? Why couldn’t he be like his other singing contemporaries, who loved to write songs about getting bitches and making money? At the very least, even if he wasn’t quite a platinum selling artist just yet, surely he was constantly sharing beds with anyone he pleases? Couldn’t he sing about that?!

(In the back of your mind, you wonder if it would be less painful to learn that Jungkook has slept with multiple people… Because then, it would mean that he had moved on while you stood alone on your island, stranded and yearning.)

You didn’t want to think too deeply about his lyrics. However, you're only human. So when your mind barrier failed and you caught snippets of his singing, you noticed a pattern. There was always a girl in his songs. She was omnipresent, and Jungkook was always pleading for her. Begging and aching and wanting. But most all… he was always repenting. In every song, he always whispered a pious apology.

You feared what would happen if you turned around in those moments of weakness. You were terrified of admitting something, of letting words spill that had been trapped in your throat for the better part of two years.

Lucky for you, salvation comes in the form of one Park Jimin. Though, can you even count him as your savior when he had also inadvertently caused your demise?

Jimin doesn’t even have a shift today, so you’re more than surprised when his bright blonde head stumbles through the restaurant doors. His expensive coat is askew and his signature designer shades are nowhere to be found. He is panic incarnate—an expression you have never seen on his face before.

“Holy fuck,” he greets, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. His profanity startles the elderly couple waiting to be seated, their glares menacingly sharp. To his credit, Jimin doesn’t even seem phased.

In lieu of an answer, you gesture vaguely behind you. You can imagine how dejected you must look. “Holy fuck indeed,” you sigh.

It takes a moment for Jimin to regain his bearings. He straightens up and pats down his coat, but his hair is still tousled by the wind. If not for the fact that he has a car, you might have thought he had run all the way here.

“I am so sorry. I didn’t know this was going to happen,” he starts, genuinely remorseful. “I texted Manager Jeong this morning and he said he’d get your ex to leave, but I didn’t think he’d offer the damn bastard a job!”

“Mind your language, Park. I’m still at work,” you scold. You try your best to ignore the scrutinizing gaze of the elderly couple. You lower your voice. “And don’t apologize. I know you’re an asshole, but I doubt you’d actually prey on my downfall like this. I know you’re not into public humiliation.”

Jimin brightens slightly at your joke, but he still looks like a guilty puppy who'd been caught shitting on the carpet. “Yeah, well. I happen to enjoy tormenting you and I won’t let some upstart Charlie Puth wannabe ruin your life. That’s my job.”

You smile wryly at him. “Well, that’s too bad. Jungkook’s been singing for a few hours now and I’m pretty sure Manager Jeong is going to keep him long-term. He might have broken my heart, but damn does he have vocals. I'm sure you'll have plenty competition when it comes to 'who can make Y/N's life feel like hell.'”

Jimin doesn't smile back, but instead studies your face for a moment. Then:

“Do you think if I offer to suck Manager Jeong off, he’ll fire him?”

“What the fuck?” You nearly yell out in surprise, your jaw dropping to the floor. Judging by his serious scowl, you know he's actually considering it. By now, the elderly couple waiting to be seated have left the premises.

Jimin continues, unperturbed. “I know he secretly wants me, based on how his wife seems to have a personal vendetta against me. He definitely wants a taste of my bus—.”

“Stop, I get it!” You wave your hands to make him shut up, heat rising up your cheeks. “Never say that string of words to me ever again. You have just inflicted ten years of suffering onto my poor brain.”

“Hey, I’m just offering solutions here!” Jimin pouts.

You stare at him, unimpressed. “Save it. You tried solving my problems already, so let’s just accept the fact that there’s nothing else for me to do but to suck it up. It’s time for me to put on my big girl pants for a change.”

“I mean, I could do all the sucking instead, but you’re being a little bitch about it,” Jimin mumbles. He’s lucky you didn’t hear him this time, lest you give him something to really whine about.

“Anyway, I guess this is my life now. Nothing to do except hope that he never tries to interact with me or I can find another job,” you shrug.

Over your shoulder, Jimin fixes Jungkook with an icy glare that is cold enough to give you the shivers. For the first time that entire night, you hazard a glance back at the stage, finding that Jungkook is already looking back at you.

You whip your head back forward, perspiration forming down your back. For fuck’s sake, this guy.

“Well, let me know if he tries anything. I’ll beat that little freak into the floor if he tries so much as breathing the same air as you.” Jimin huffs, puffing up his chest with false bravado. You can’t help but laugh at his empty threat, knowing that Jungkook could probably bench press Jimin without breaking a sweat. Jimin's muscles are only for aesthetics, after all.

“Don’t worry, he hasn’t actually spoken to me actually. He can keep singing his sad little love songs, I really don’t mind,” you say, like a liar. Jimin snorts, wholly unconvinced.

“Well, if you need me, I’m heading to the bar to grab a drink so I can stare at your ex uncomfortably until he leaves. See you!” Jimin bids you farewell with a cheery grin as he skips a little too happily inside the restaurant.

Why'd you have to befriend the largest lunatic in the city? You massage your forehead with a groan, willing away your growing headache.

The rest of the night trickles away like molasses. Jungkook continues to sing his heart out, save for an hour intermission where he presumably takes a short break. In his absence, you hear Jimin guffaw loudly, his laughter too sharp to be considered happy. You faintly hear Jungkook shy stutters in response, and you momentarily consider running in to interrupt.

Why? Did you want to save Jungkook from Jimin’s unnecessary harassment? It’s not like Jimin is doing it out nowhere, he was just trying to be… a good friend?

You pause to ponder. As much as you hate to admit it, you know why you want to help Jungkook. But Jimin on the other hand? Why did he want to help you? Questions begin flowing through your head like a whirlwind, and your nausea increases. God, when was your next therapy appointment again?

You save those questions for another day. As you look at your watch, there are only thirty minutes left until two in the morning. You tap your foot impatiently, smiling curtly at departing customers as the restaurant slowly emptied. As they left, you overhear some of your regulars giggling amongst themselves, whispering about the cute new singer and his charming demeanor.

The last nail on your coffin has been hammered. Yeah, Jungkook isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

With the restaurant closing soon, it sounds like Jungkook is ready to end his set as well.

Throughout the night, Jungkook rarely made a point to speak. The only time he didn’t sing was when he quietly introduced the title of his next song and the band swiftly began the first opening notes. For his last song, however, Jungkook decided to give a little more backstory for his final song.

“Hello, everyone. Thank you so much for listening to me for the night,” Jungkook says with a soft voice, his tone awfully shy despite his powerful belting throughout the evening. The few customers left give him a warm round of applause, and you hear the familiar sound of his timid giggles spill from the restaurant speakers.

“This will be my final song for the night. Most of the songs I sang today were covers, but this one is an original. I…” He hesitates for a moment, and something pulls you to turn despite the alarm bells ringing in your ears. You face him, and just like earlier in the evening, he is already looking back at you.

This time, you don’t look away; he does. His eyes flit to the ceiling, and he licks his lips from nerves. “I… I wrote this song a long while ago. I’ve never sang it in public before and I never thought it would ever see the light of day. Until, well…”

He stops again. This time, he gestures to the guitarist in the band, silently asking to borrow it. With a guitar in hand, he smiles a little more confidently at the small crowd of people. He begins strumming the first few notes, and your heart stops. “I hope everyone had a pleasant evening. Get home safe and have a great rest of your week. My name is Jungkook, and this last song is called…”

Before he can sing the first line of his song, you make a break for it.

You slam the restaurant doors open, and the stinging cold air immediately pierces their fangs into your skin. Your coat is still inside, but you can’t bring yourself to reenter. You take a long breath, the chill barely registering in your mind with how loudly your heart is pounding in your ears.

Hearing the opening to that song was enough to bring you back in time, three years ago:

You are in his childhood bedroom, his walls littered with concert posters and his floor a mess with unfolded laundry and guitar picks. The afternoon sun is streaming through his windows, bathing him in gold. You have an exam the next day and he has cram school to go to, but you’ve both chucked your books somewhere on his desk, left forgotten.

He has his eyes closed, concentrated. You’re both on his small twin bed, squished together side by side and thighs touching. You have your head on his shoulder and he has his hands on his guitar. He strums a few chords experimentally and sings a melody that only the two of you know.

(Not anymore.)

“Are you writing a new song?” you ask, voice a little scratchy. Neither of you had spoken for the past few hours, just basking in the setting sun and Jungkook’s indistinct strumming. But now, his chords sound more sure, more certain of something.

“Yeah, I just thought of it,” he hums. He opens his eyes a smidge, a smitten smile on his lips. You mirror him.

“What’s it about this time?”

His brows furrow. “I’ve been trying to write about other stuff, you know? Namjoon-hyung tells me it’s important that songs have meaning and impact.” He pauses in his strumming, looking a little conflicted. “And I get what he means. Art is all about saying something, but… I can’t help that there’s only one thing I ever want to talk about. Is that so wrong?”

You chuckle, understanding what he means. You nudge your head against his cheek, grinning from ear to ear. The fluttering in your chest has become routine to you at this point, but he somehow always knows how to increase it tenfold. “God, you’re such a sweet talker. Really, Koo. There’s no need to serenade with love songs—I’m already yours.”

He looks back at you, brimming with tender affection. “I know,” he responds. Then, he takes a pen from his bedside table, and begins writing.

During those years of dating him, you always thought that If he was a waterfall, then you were a teaspoon. You desperately tried to be enough for him, but you’re barely able to fathom the depth of his devotion. Everything about him was excessive, and you could seldom understand how he managed to contain himself. He was born to share himself, to tear bits of his soul so that the world may understand him, love him. His songs were a testament that he was trying to do that, and you always felt so lucky to be able to receive him, wholly and fully.

How cruel was it that Jungkook uses that same song to rip open the barely healed scab on your heart, leaving you bare and stinging and raw all over again.

You have no idea how long you've stood there in the cold. It must have been barely a few minutes when Jimin finds his way to you. He wordlessly shrugs his coat off and places it on your shoulders, but you make no move to acknowledge him.

You hope your silence is enough for Jimin to infer that you are not in a conversational mood, but he’s nothing if not impatient. He forcibly pulls you to face him, his hands warm even through your clothing.

“Hey, you good? Did something happen?” He asks with barely concealed irritation, but it’s not directed at you. Still, you flinch at his scathing tone, shrinking in on yourself. In your daze, you vaguely notice his resemblance to an angry baby chick.

“It’s nothing. Go back inside, I’ll be right there,” you mumble lamely, weakly pushing him back towards the restaurant. Jimin does not budge, instead leveling you with a hard stare. This time, you’re sure his irritation is for you.

“You idiot, you literally ran out like someone was out to get you. Of course it’s not nothing,” he grouses.

You sigh tiredly, shaking your head at him. “We can talk later. It’s almost closing time and I just want to go home and sleep.”

Before Jimin can argue further, the door to the restaurant opens once more, but it isn’t a leaving customer.

“What the fuck? What are you doing out here?” Jimin all but shouts at Jungkook. He holds up an accusatory finger at him and uses his other hand to nudge you behind him as if to shield you.

Jungkook winces, instinctively stepping back. Despite being a few inches taller than Jimin, Jungkook’s timidness makes him look smaller. “I… I was just worried about her—”

“Don’t you have a song to finish in there? Talk about professional,” Jimin spits out. Jimin maneuvers you so that Jungkook can’t see you, but you manage to catch sight of how his gaze follows you unfailingly.

“I finished up my set. It’s closing time.” Jungkook responds coolly. He’s still a little quiet, but you can sense some of his natural composure rising to the surface. When he needs to be, Jungkook has been known to stand his ground—usually when it comes to matters involving you.

At this time of the night and after hours of mental torture, the last thing you need is to watch your two worst nightmares duke it out in front of your work establishment. You are beyond exhausted, and you hardly have the fortitude to withstand another minute of their voices ringing in your ears.

Your eyes well up with tears of frustration, causing the two boys to freeze up in panic. You don’t give them the chance to fuss over you; instead, you haphazardly wipe your cheeks before roughly pushing them back towards the restaurant.

“Get back to work, you idiots.” Your voice sounds warbled even to your own ears, but you push past your overwhelming emotions in favor of getting back inside to close up. Hell, you might even call in sick tomorrow, just so you can cry pathetically into your bowl of cereal in solitude.

“I’m not even on the clock today!” Jimin complains faintly, but you only push him harder.

When you all reenter, you walk back to your desk and pointedly ignore the two of them until they awkwardly float away from your orbit. Despite the distance they give you, their gazes are still fixed plainly on you and they feel like knives digging into your back.

Eventually, all the final customers of the day take their leave, and your remaining coworkers start dimming the lights and bidding their goodbyes. From the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook bowing respectfully to the band, who were giving him friendly pats on the back for a job well done. Jimin walks toward you, his car keys dangling from his left pinky.

“No thanks. I’ll take the bus home today,” you declare before he can offer a ride. Jimin opens his mouth like a goldfish, flapping his lips dumbly as he stares at you in shock. You have no idea why he’s so surprised, given how you’ve been making it obvious that you need some space.

He looks like he wants to argue again, but thinks better of it. A singular moment of restraint from Park Jimin, which is an act you once thought impossible. Maybe he does care about you more than you thought.

He stiffly nods at you, shoving his hands and keys into his pockets. He still has a frown on his face when he tells you to text him when you get home. You flip him off with a shaky smirk in response, a feeble attempt to bring some levity back to your now tense relationship. It works a little, and Jimin brightens up significantly. How simple-minded of him.

With a flippant wave, you leave work and head towards your bus stop. At this hour of the night, the streets are mostly dim, save for some street lamps and bars that stay open longer than your restaurant. There are always some people milling about, enough that you never feel too on edge about how late it is. Still, your bus stop is often empty, leaving you to mull over your thoughts in peace.

You are in the midst of jamming your earbuds into your ear when a presence makes itself known beside you.

Is it possible to go through the five stages of grief in under a second? You suppose not, but it’s hard to tell what sort of emotions swim through you when you come face to face with Jeon Jungkook again.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you mutter under your breath. You pause the song playing on your phone to glare at him with as much venom as you can muster.

Jungkook holds up his hands in surrender, doe eyes wide like prey. “I-I’m heading home too! I’m not following you, I swear!”

You groan internally. Figures that you and Jungkook take the same bus home. But hold on— “Don’t you have a car? I remember you were parked near the restaurant the other night,” you note, squinting at him.

Jungkook looks sheepish as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah. That car was my hyung’s. He lets me borrow it sometimes, but he needed it tonight.”

“Sure…” You level him with a skeptical frown. You remember his hyung, but don’t recall him ever owning a car. You aren’t even sure that his Namjoon-hyung is allowed by the country to drive a car, much less own one.

He could be lying, but you don’t want to give him an excuse to continue any conversation. So, you busy yourself with your phone and keep your head bowed away from him.

When the bus arrives, Jungkook makes it a point to sit a few rows behind you. Thankfully, he has a better understanding of social cues than a certain Park that you know. He leaves you alone, but your entire body still feels like a rope pulled taut. You have to convince yourself not to look behind you, your morbid curiosity scratching your insides raw.

You are in the home stretch now, and it’ll only be a few more minutes before you get to your stop and make your way to your safe haven. Hell resumes the next day and the next, but at the very least you’ll have your home to yourself. No one could take that away from you.

Again, this is where you learn that tempting fate is never a good idea.

When you exit the bus at your stop, you can hear his footsteps following you. It’s hard not to notice, especially when his large and distracting boots make such a distinct racket that makes him so Jungkook.

You hasten your pace towards your apartment complex, your shoulders hunched and hands shoved into your coat pockets in an attempt to hinder the bile rising from your stomach. He had promised that he wasn’t following you, but that proclamation seems to be standing on feeble legs with how long he’s been on your tail now.

Your street is filled with rows of low-rise apartment buildings, so you hope that if anything happens, you can yell as loud as you can and alert some compassionate neighbor to come to your aid. (Not that you think he would ever physically harm you, but… You can’t say the same about your mental state.)

Your home is just two buildings away from where you are, but Jungkook still seems determined to follow you to the end. You all but skip the remaining feet to your apartment entrance, your breath coming out in puffs as you finally muster up the courage to face your supposed stalker and give him a piece of your mind.

“If this is some convoluted way for you to find out where I live, then you aren’t being very subtle about it,” you say, your chin held up high despite the growing urge to vomit pathetically in front of your ex-boyfriend. You have your hand rested on the doorknob, just a moment’s notice away from bolting into your house if the need for a quick getaway arises.

To your surprise, Jungkook wasn’t following you as closely as you expected. He had stopped trailing you about two buildings down, his own hand poised on the door with a look of genuine shock.

You both stand there, staring at each other as mutual understanding dawns on the two of you.

Everyday, the universe learns of more creative ways to be cruel.

“Oh…” Jungkook’s voice falters. He looks simultaneously frightened and amazed, as if he too finds this entire situation unbelievably harsh. He swallows thickly, looking at you and back to his door in quick succession. “Well… This is a strange coincidence,” he murmurs.

You want to believe that this was his entire fault, that Jungkook had somehow managed to track you down to haunt you for the rest of your days. You want to believe that he’s a crazed stalker who is willing to find where you work and live so that every hour of your wretched life is filled with nothing but reminders of what-could-have-beens. You just want someone to blame instead of just the cosmos—you want someone tangible to hate so that your suffering can be given some sort of identity. You want to give your mourning and hurt a name so that you can learn how to heal.

You want to believe all of that, but it’s hard to do so when Jungkook looks so incredibly uncomfortable, as if he’d rather melt into the shadows and never be seen again.

In all your memories, you have never seen Jungkook look so small.

You heave a big sigh, your fingers grasping the door knob so tightly that you half-expect it to be dented from the force. You linger for a moment, your mouth opening but nothing spills out.

What is there to say? What do you say to an ex-boyfriend that you haven’t seen in two years, who is suddenly so deeply entwined in your life once more? Do you tell him goodnight? Tell him to stay away? Tell him to come home with you?

Jungkook looks equally as conflicted. His lips are pursed tight with words left unsaid. You aren’t sure whether you want to punch the confession out of his mouth or seal them up forever. It feels like eons before he finally breaks the silence with a mirthless laugh.

“I… I just wanted to say��back at the restaurant. When I sang that last song,” Jungkook begins, and his voice feels loud because of how empty the streets are. For a moment, you are reminded of a cathedral you once visited during a vacation, how sacred silence can be. The world holds its breath, waiting for him to speak.

“I meant it all. Every word. Every lyric. I never stopped…”

He trails off, shrugging his shoulders. He stares at you helplessly, but you don’t know what to say. You don’t want to listen any more, but your feet are planted to the ground. You’re frozen like a deer in headlights, forced to brace against him as he crashes into you.

He continues, “And when we broke up back then… I never wanted that to happen. You broke it off before we could even try something—and I hated how I didn’t fight for you harder. I let you misunderstand me because I was afraid you wouldn’t want to stick around if I didn’t succeed. I convinced myself that I was holding you down, but I never gave you—us—a chance. I never stopped regretting it since.”

“Me? Break up with you?” You echo incredulously. That statement is enough to break you from your trance, the telltale signs of indignation rising up your chest. “How dare you suggest—Me? You were the one who broke up with me, asshole! You were the one who broke my heart and decided to up and leave to god knows where! Only to miraculously respawn right next to me, groveling at my feet with sad love songs as if that’s enough for me to forgive and forget? Fucking entitled bastard,” you seethe.

Somehow, Jungkook manages to shrink more, like a bunny with his tail tucked between his legs. “Yes, you’re right that I broke your heart but… When I told you I was moving away to try and become a singer, it was always with the intention of staying together. I know it would have been difficult, but I wanted you to be with me through thick and thin. But when you misunderstood and took it as a break up, I let you go because, well… I was scared that it would happen eventually. Who wants to date a broke busking fool anyway?”

He laughs, but it sounds watery. He sniffles, and you hope it's only because of the cold. “I tried looking for you, but you blocked me everywhere and no one from back home seemed to know where you went. So I just accepted that we’d never see each other again… Until a few days ago, that is.”

A misunderstanding? Is that what everything boils down to? Years of trying to build yourself back up again, relearning what it means to be happy—all the fallen domino pieces in your life trailing back to a single moment in time? All because Jungkook was scared that you didn't love him enough?

You’ve never felt angrier in your life. You fear what you might say if you continue to stand outside there, face to face with the singular person strong enough to whittle you down to the bone. Jeon Jungkook is all soft smiles and sweet songs, but how come he’s always able to knock you off your axis? Few people on this earth can stitch you up and break you down in equal measure, but somehow, Jungkook manages to do all that and more.

Then, comes the guilt. Had it been all your fault? That you hadn't returned his love in equal measure? Had you secretly given up on the hope of being on his level? Always looking down on yourself: unable to move past your insecurities. Were you terrified of being his side piece, his girlfriend, forever?

Who are you, even? And where do you stand?

(Beside him, is what you want to answer. You don't know if that's the right choice.)

You can’t bear to look at him, least of all answer him. Without another word, you shove your house key into the door before slamming it shut despite the late hour. If you awaken any neighbors, you’ll apologize later. For now, all you require is sleep and hope that this has been all a terrible nightmare.

xxx

Reality is a bitter pill to swallow.

Jeon Jungkook continues to sing at the restaurant, and after only two days of repeat stellar performances, your manager decides to promote him as the official vocalist for the band. It hurts to admit that you're not the least bit surprised; you might have a hard time looking at him, but you can never deny his talent.

His song list has added a larger variety of genres ever since his first performance. That is to say, he isn’t always singing about lost loves and tragic couples every night. Perhaps it is due to some requests from customers or his other bandmates, but it doesn’t stop him from sprinkling one or two love songs into the mix.

He doesn’t sing any original songs ever again. That, at least, is a small mercy. He doesn’t make any moves to speak with you either, despite the daily awkward trips back home after the end of your shifts. Whether that’s because he’s given up on you (again), or he’s waiting for you to make the first move, you don’t know. Frankly, you don’t think you have the energy (nor courage) to do anything about it.

It’s a few weeks after Jungkook’s first performance at the restaurant, and closing time is approaching. You appreciate Friday nights the most because it means you’ll have two consecutive days to relax and avoid your problems. It’s also the busiest night of the week, when white-collar workers decide to drink and eat for as long as the night allows them. Busier nights mean more distractions, and you’re willing to deal with twenty Karens over one Jungkook.

During nights like these, your manager occasionally asks you to fulfill some waitress duties when there aren’t enough hands on deck. Normally you’d hate it, but earning the extra tips is enough to keep your grumbling to a minimum To this day, your landlord has yet to do anything about your broken shower, and you’ve finally conceded to the fact that you’ll have to be the one to do something about it.

As you inform the customers in your area that the last call for orders is approaching, you sneak a glance at the bar to see Jimin dutifully performing his job. That is to say, he’s flirting up a storm, getting women and men alike to blush from head to toe as he serves their drinks with a salacious smirk.

What a swindler, you think to yourself, snorting when he makes eye contact with you. He gives you a cheeky salute, mouthing something as he gestures to the back door.

Despite the semi-fight the two of you had all those weeks ago, Jimin was never one to argue about the same topic two days in a row. When you saw him the next day after your confrontation with Jungkook, Jimin was back to all smiles. You still catch him sending death glares towards Jungkook on most nights, but he doesn’t bring up the matter with you anymore. For that reason, you’ve gratefully settled back into your weird, banterful friendship with him. Even if there’s still a lingering tension between the two of you that you refuse to acknowledge.

You nod thankfully back at him, excited to go to his house and take a much needed shower. At this point, going to his house has become second nature to you, and it gives you an excuse to not see Jungkook at your regular bus stop every day. You have half a mind to never fix your shower for that reason, but of course there is still the problem of having to deal with Jimin every time you need to bathe. You hardly consider yourself an impatient person, but Jimin likes to toe the line far more often than necessary.

You’re down to your last two tables before you can close up shop when your manager suddenly barrels right into your path. You nearly drop your tray of dirty dishes to the floor, holding in a loud yelp as your suspiciously stern-faced manager halts you in place.

“Ms. Y/N, may I have a word with you for a moment? It’s regarding your paycheck for the month,” he barks, lips downturned. He appears disgruntled about something, and it sends a worried shiver down your spine. And here you thought Fridays are meant to be fun. He doesn’t wait for you to reply before he stalks back to his office, an unspoken command for you to follow.

You unload your dishes in the kitchen before making your way to his office. The small, dark room is cramped with overflowing file folders and coupons from multiple take-out places. You accidentally step on a stack of papers, and upon further inspection, seem to be a pile of applications for new hires. You distinctly remember complaining to him months prior about being understaffed and him replying that no inquiries were coming in.

As you approach, your manager shuffles through your coworkers pay stubs, and you notice yours and Jungkook’s on top of the piles.

Manager Jeong clears his throat. “Well, Y/N. It seems to be your lucky day. As you know, we split the tips based on your hours and what sort of duties you fulfill. With the new hire we have as our in-house singer, we’ve had to split it one way more to accommodate his arrival. However, he has recently requested to me that his portion be reallocated… to you, Ms. Y/N.”

Your jaw drops immediately. “I-I don’t understand, Manager Jeong,” you sputter.

Manager Jeong snorts, bemused by your reaction. “Don’t understand? Well, I suppose you’ll have to ask Mr. Jeon if you want his reasoning. Regardless, since we normally deposit your salary straight to your bank account, would it be alright if I hand you his tips in cash for now? He only informed me about his request an hour ago, and the accountant has already clocked out for the week.”

All you can do is nod dumbly back at him. With a huff, your manager presses a white envelope into your hands before promptly ushering you out of his office. “Well, that's settled. Out you go! Have a good weekend, Ms. Y/N. Don’t forget to lock the register before you leave!” He calls out before slamming his door in your face.

It takes you a moment to reanimate back to life. You stare at the white envelope for a long while, unable to fathom the scribbled out name of Jeon Jungkook replaced with your own name. Then, you crumple it into your fist before stomping over to where Jungkook and the rest of the band are in the middle of packing it up for the night.

Jungkook looks up from his guitar case when he senses you fast approaching. For a fleeting second, a smile graces his handsome face before it’s smacked away by your crumpled envelope.

“Keep your fucking cash, Jungkook. What the hell is your problem?” You fume, cheeks heating from agitation. Jungkook splutters for a moment, prying the envelope away from his face and looking at it in bewilderment. When he sees it clearly, recognition dawns on his face, followed by guilt.

“It’s just… my way of saying sorry, I guess.” He answers you meekly, neck flushing red in embarrassment. Behind him, the rest of the band grow silent at the scene before them, and you debate on telling them to mind their own business when they quicken their pace to leave.

“Well, keep your apology to yourself. There’s nothing to apologize for,” you correct him with a frown. To offer an apology is to offer accountability. You aren’t sure if you’re ready to hear him say that.

“No, it’s a sorry for… using you, I suppose.”

“Using me?” You repeat, dumbfounded. “For what?”

Jungkook smiles wryly back at you. “For inspiration?” he clarifies. For being the reason I can sing? He leaves that part unsaid, but you can almost imagine him saying it.

You feel heat rising to your cheeks again, but this time you aren’t quite sure if it’s from embarrassment, anger… or something else.

Unable to conjure up a response to his simple confession, you stomp away from him with a pounding heart and shaking hands. You continue the rest of your closing shift routine instinctually, your body moving on autopilot as Jungkook’s words continue to ring inside your head. When all is said and done, Jimin makes his way to your station with a questioning stare, but you wave him off in favor of stomping ahead of him to the parking lot.

In his car, Jimin rattles off about his latest exploits and purchases, his grating voice a comfort for once. You hum noncommittally during his stories when appropriate, but you suppose your usual indifference feels different, even to Jimin's untrained ears.

At his house, you drift to his bathroom immediately. You already have a shirt button undone by the time you get a handle on the door when Jimin’s hand stops you in place. You can feel his warmth emanating against your back as he slowly pulls the bathroom door close. With a tired sigh, you reluctantly turn to face him and find him standing closer than you expected.

He has an arm resting above your head, effectively caging you. You feel your shoulders sag. Damn, here comes another confrontation. Why can’t everyone just leave you alone?!

“Talk to me,” he says. No, he demands.

You push him away weakly, but he hardly budges. “Nothing to talk about,” you lie. Had you no filter, you’d be word vomiting all over the place ages ago.

Jimin groans, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “Enough with the emotional constipation. I’m here to listen, alright? No teasing or anything, I’m all ears and maybe a shoulder to cry on. Just don’t stain my Chanel top too bad,” he jokes.

You puff out a short breath—a sorry excuse for a laugh. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want to talk about it, and that’s that.”

“It’ll make you feel a lot better, though,” he offers.

You scoff. “What makes you think that? What if I just want to ignore all my problems forever and never grow from it? Is that so bad?”

Jimin pushes himself away from you, raising his hands in mock defeat. “You’re so fucking annoying. Can you stop running away from your problems and talk to me? Hell, talk to Jungkook for all I care! Just stop being a doormat and speak your mind for once in your damn life!”

“What are you, my therapist?” You brush past him, shower all but forgotten. You begin toeing your shoes back on, ready to head home tired and smelly. At the very least, you won’t have to deal with this stupid annoying asshole any longer.

Jimin strides back towards you, but for once he doesn’t do anything to forcibly stop you. Jimin has always been gruff with you, not afraid to push and pull you in any which direction. It’s part of the reason why you can’t take him seriously, even though you’ve recently realized why he was always being such a prick towards you—

“Yeah, I’m not your therapist. But for better or for worse, I’m your friend and I—I fucking care about you, alright? And it sucks seeing that good-for-nothing stick his nose in your business and act like he can do anything without any repercussions.”

Is Jimin being for real right now? “With how often you look at yourself in the mirror, you’d think you’d be better at introspection,” is all you say to that. You shove your feet into your shoes, not caring that you’ve probably put them on wrong. Maybe it’s because it’s Friday and the fatigue from the week has finally settled deep in your bones, but you can’t help but leave one last scathing remark to drive the final nail in the coffin.

“You know, if you were a little nicer to me, maybe I would talk to you. Hell, maybe I’d like you back. But no, just keep being your domineering, asshole self and I’ll keep being the same fucking doormat bitch you know and love,” you spit, turning towards the door and away from his face. You’re not even curious to see how he reacts. “I don’t need protection, alright? When I tell you to stay out of my business, you stay out of it. So don’t try and pretend to be my knight in shining armor.”

There’s an ocean of silence, enough to hear a pin drop. The urge to apologize surges to the surface, but you stamp it down. He’s petty all the time, so now it’s your turn.

Okay, maybe that’s a little too mean on your part, but you’re exhausted. Perhaps it is true when they say you should never act on your anger when it’s past midnight. But can anyone blame you? You’re only a girl, and girls need to snap too.

When he responds, his voice sounds weak. Park Jimin, weak? It's almost unthinkable. "Why don't you trust me?"

Isn't it obvious? you want to say. But some mercy remains within you. You'll pick up the pieces another time. Instead, you rasp out, “Good night, Park. I’ll see you on Monday.”

The walk of shame back to your house is long and arduous. Your phone dings thrice, likely signaling texts from Jimin, but you turn it off without checking for sure. For once, the weight on your shoulders is slightly lighter. You huff out a dry laugh, realizing belatedly that maybe Jimin is right—maybe speaking your mind has its benefits.

There’s a small park in your neighborhood that you always pass by. You don’t remember the last time you spared it a second glance, but this time you notice a lone figure swinging back and forth, arching dangerously higher than what you would consider safe. From a distance, all you can make out are the person’s comically bright boots, and you have a sinking suspicion you know who it is without seeing their face.

Cosmos, or whoever it is that controls my life, why must you braid our strings of fate so tightly? You ask, but as always, it refuses to reply.

Against your better judgment, your feet bring you closer towards him. He has his back towards you, his feet pumping him higher and higher and you half expect him to swing in a perfect arc like a gymnast on parallel bars. You have to keep your distance a bit, lest you get the wind knocked out of you by his signature stompers.

You clear your throat, and the boy stops mid-swing and nearly catapults himself into the spongey, playground floor. Hunched over and wheezing, Jungkook directs his shocked eyes at you with a comical stare.

You raise a hand in greeting. A peace offering, maybe. “Hello—”

“I swear I’m not stalking you!” Jungkook interrupts as he scrambles to his feet. He bows deeply in remorse, the action so endearingly him. “S-sorry, I’ll make my way home now…”

“I don’t own the park, Jungkook. I was just saying hello…” You snort, wringing your hands uncomfortably. You grind your shoes into the ground, the sound of crunching leaves breaking the still air. “A-and… to say sorry, for earlier.”

“Sorry?” Jungkook repeats, confused. When he realizes what you mean, he waves his hands frantically. “No, no! Don’t be sorry! It was my fault for being so inconsiderate. I understand how you might misconstrue my actions, and I made things more awkward. I’ll consider your feelings more in the future…”

In the future… You cough, unwilling to meet his bright and honest gaze. If you stare too long, you fear you might go blind.

“I come here to the park often, when I feel too cramped inside my apartment,” Jungkook explains, frantic energy radiating off him in waves. He’s gesticulating too much, a clear sign that he’s trying to hide his nerves. You remember how he would do the same thing in high school, whenever he had to present his projects in front of the class.

You hold a hand up, a weak attempt to get him to calm down. “I’m not here to interrogate you. I just wanted to…” What is it that you wanted to do?

The two of you just stand awkwardly like that, similar to a few weeks ago when you discovered you were neighbors. You’re grasping at straws in your head, both conflicted for wanting to tell him something and running away. Even if you were to talk to him, what would you say? There’s a reason you told Jimin you didn’t want to talk—frankly, it’s mostly because you have no idea what to say or feel.

But you do know, the universe responds.

I ask you questions all the time, and this is how you respond?

Either that, or you’re going insane, the universe remarks.

Jungkook pulls out his phone, his fingers fumbling as he unlocks it. He takes a furtive step towards you, but thinks better of it. There’s a few feet of distance between you, but it feels like worlds apart. Close and yet so far. You recall how you’d easily pull him towards you in the past, how being together felt as natural as breathing.

“I know you absolutely hated it the last time I played my original song at the restaurant, so I refrained from performing any ever since that night. But that didn’t stop me from writing them. I was fine with keeping them locked in a vault forever, but…” He hesitates, searching you for any signs of discomfort. When he sees the carefully blank look on your face, he continues with trepidation.

“Can I try a song for you? You don’t have to say yes, and you’re free to tell me to fuck off and I’ll never even look at you ever again. Just…” He flails one last time, a choked sob making its escape from his throat.

Are you hopeless for wanting to say yes? Or were you reverting back to your old self who relied on him and believed in him so heavily? If you wanted him out of your life for good, you would have quit your job at the first sight of him. Maybe you were masochistic. Or maybe were you hopeful for a new start, a chance to rekindle a relationship that you’ve secretly always wanted to repair.

You have so much life ahead of you. Many more mistakes will be made and maybe they’ll haunt you when you’re older. But would it really be such a terrible gamble to take one more chance?

You nod, and seal your fate.

He presses play, and the soft strumming of a guitar fills the empty playground air.

Not for the first time, you wonder how it can be so easy for Jungkook to be so… honest. He spills his heart in every song that he writes, and you know he’s never been a great liar. He can’t help it, being genuine is in his DNA. This crashing waterfall, this boy with overflowing emotions—he sings what he thinks but feels terrified because of it. You might not understand his honesty, but you know that fear. You know it all too well.

He beholds himself to you—raw and unfiltered. A little battered and bruised, but still Jungkook. Behind everything, still the boy you’ve been yearning for.

Maybe this song is what will give you enough confidence to admit everything to him, too. As you stand there, listening to his mellow voice sing confessions to no one but you and the stars, you think you grow a little more courageous that day.

Maybe you won’t be able to tell him tonight. Maybe not tomorrow, nor next week either. But as you gaze back at his hopeful eyes, you know deep in your heart that you’ll find the words you’ve been looking for.

“I’ll keep waiting for you, if you let me.” Jungkook’s voice floats gently to you, and settles in your open palms. This time, you don’t let go

xxx

Months later, Jungkook stops working at the restaurant when an offer from a major record company arrives in his mail. Apparently, a big shot from the local radio station had pitched him to an employee at that company and they were all pleasantly surprised to find a hidden gem at a random bar and restaurant.

In your apartment, you stare outside your window and to where his home is—well, where it was. You wonder if he finished packing his things, ready to make the big move tomorrow. You stand up with a stretch, sparing a glance at your still broken shower. It would be nice to have one more shower at his place… And after that? Maybe you should start looking for a nicer apartment; somewhere far away might be nice.

Your phone rings, and you see his contact photo light up your screen. With a smile, you answer.

“Come over, if you want. I won’t make you,” Jungkook assures you.

You laugh lightly, already halfway out the door.

#bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bangtan #bts #bts fanfic

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honeytae · 7 months ago

Text

“you refuse to meet his gaze, afraid that your carefully constructed facade will crumble if you do. and it seems like that's exactly what is happening - the walls you've built around yourself are slowly falling apart.”

genre: angst, fluff, comfort

warnings: reader is overworked af and petrified of showing vulnerability, brief argument between reader and jk but only bc he cares, so many tears..like a LOT of crying, descriptions of kissing, make out sesh💋, an unforgivable amount of fluff and L bombs, i really didn’t know what to call this one so it’s just riptide, sorry not sorry you guys

wc: 2k

the air in the apartment is mostly silent, save for the gentle scratch of lead on paper and the muted pattering of rain against the windows in your home office.

jungkook’s teeth play with his bottom lip as he fidgets in his seat, intently observing you from the opposite end of the table.

across from him, your brows knit together in an attempt to focus, lips pursed in concentration as you stop for a moment, then resume moving your pencil across the page.

he cringes at the disruption of his phone vibrating on the table, abruptly snapping you out of your daze.

as your pencil slips out of your grasp, you sit up straight and flex your fingers around in the air to release some of the tension residing in your joints.

jungkook murmurs an apology but you brush it off, glancing wearily at him and providing a small smile. a sigh of relief escapes you as he leans in, taking your hand in his and gently massaging your tired fingers with a few strokes of his own.

“that feels good,” you mumble, shifting closer to the table for more of his touch.

he hums softly, taking another few moments to work his fingers into your skin, creating a small pocket of silence.

"are you bored?" you ask, feeling a twinge of guilt for leaving him essentially alone at the table. "i'm sorry, baby, i'll be finished in just a few more minutes."

jungkook shrugs in response, casual as he moves his arm to gently rub up and down your own. his touch is comforting and helps ease your anxiety, preventing you from spiraling further.

“it's okay,” he reassures you with a gentle smile, “just take your time. i'll be here.”

his eyes shift from your face to your hand, a frown forming as he notices the red mark on your finger, evidence of how tightly you've been holding your pencil.

you watch, endeared, as he leans down to kiss the spot, then replaces his lips with his finger, gently rubbing over the indentation to soothe the redness.

"you work so hard," he says, tutting his tongue as he continues running his thumb over the spot.

you can only manage a sigh in response, feeling drained and unable to speak. plus, tears are starting to form in your eyes, and you’re desperately trying to hold them back. jungkook notices, of course he does.his expression turns into one of concern as he studies your face, trying to assess the situation.

your mouth is set in a deep frown, almost a scowl, and your eyebrows are furrowed in discomfort from holding back your true emotions. you refuse to meet his gaze, afraid that your carefully constructed facade will crumble if you do. and it seems like that's exactly what is happening - the walls you've built around yourself are slowly falling apart.

in a rush, he rises from his chair and rounds the table, your eyes following him through tears.

once next to you, his fingers weave through your hair, leading your head to rest on his stomach. he wraps his arm around you and massages the tension from your shoulders as you nestle into the soft fabric of his t-shirt, taking in the familiar scent of his laundry detergent.

“time for a break?” he muses, watching as you adamantly shake your head in response.

“i just need to finish,” you reply, trying to stifle the lump in your throat.

he watches as you draw your laptop closer while blinking rapidly to chase away any tears.

you’ve always been one to persevere, which he greatly respects. but it also irritates him that at times, you don’t allow yourself to fully feel.

jungkook suppresses a groan as he watches you type something else into your search engine, briefly tilting his head up to the ceiling in frustration and closing his eyes to take a deep breath.

it can be hard, to watch those you love push themselves beyond their limit. he understands, knowing that he often puts you through the same thing.

you and him share an achilles heel of refusing to give up easily, which is both a blessing and a curse.

the sound of your fingers tapping on the keyboard snaps him out of his trance and he reopens his eyes, sneaking another glance over your shoulder.

he’s about to drop it altogether when he sees your bottom lip quiver, his breath hitching in his throat when the first tear makes it over your lash line.

“baby,” he utters softly, nearly tripping over the leg of the chair he pulls out from the table to sit beside you.

you can’t help but let out a throaty chuckle at his clumsiness, swiping the single tear from your cheek and trying to wave him off.

“i’m okay,” you sniffle, but jungkook just shakes his head in disbelief. he leans forward, balancing on his knees as he takes your fidgeting hands in his own, running his fingers gently along your knuckles.

“seriously, jungkook, i’m fine. stop making it bigger than it is,” you attempt to push him away, but he refuses to budge.

“stop making it smaller than it is!” he counters, voice raising slightly as his anger takes over.

he takes a breath, continuing in a softer voice.“baby, i’m not gonna stop until you let me in.”

his brows furrow in frustration, wide eyes pleading with you.

in the heat of the moment, you hate how intrusive he’s being. you hate that he sees you as his responsibility and that your struggles are ruining his day.

“jungkook, if i’m just a burden-“

“a burden?” he interrupts in disbelief, “you could never be a burden,” he reaches for your hand when you try to get up. “hey, all i ever want to do is help you, because i love you,” he stresses.

his words instantly calm your mounting emotions, preventing you from any more self sabotage.

“i love you,” he says again, “and i cannot sit here and watch you ruin yourself.”

you simply blink at him, the last of your resolve shattering when he starts to soothingly caress your arm with his warm palm.

even when you’re so difficult, he’s so unbelievably kind to you.

“please let yourself not be okay,” he begs, eyebrows pulling together, pained, as he watches you stifle a sob. “it’s so hard to watch you be so strong all the time,” he says, “please don’t shut me out.”

and just like that, your wall comes tumbling down.

jungkook’s emotions bubbling to the surface seem to be the final push for you to tip over the edge. tears now stream down your face, features crumbling as you weakly lift yourself from your chair.

jungkook’s arms reach out to pull you into him, intercepting your body as you launch yourself onto his lap. his lips press repeatedly to the side of your head as he wraps his arms around your stuttering back, squeezing you to him.

“let go, baby,” he says, feeling tears well up in his own eyes as you collapse in his arms, “just let go.”

broken sobs wrack your frame as you cling onto him, one of his hands securely holding the back of your head while the other runs up and down your spine.

the dam has finally broken, and its cathartic for both of you.

soothing words are spoken softly into your ear as your breaths begin to even out, your face finding solace in the crook of his neck.

after a few minutes, your cries quiet and the pool of tears starts to dry on his skin.

jungkook leans back to glance over your face, reaching up to swipe at the leftover tear trails on your cheeks with his thumb.

“feel a little lighter in here?” he inquires, dancing his fingers over your scalp as you lift your reddened eyes to lock with his.

“a little,” you sniff, leaning into his touch as he starts massaging the crown of your head.

“hm, good,” he murmurs, “we’re making progress then.”

wordlessly, you stare into his big brown irises, the whites of his eyes showing evidence of his own tears. despite this, his mouth quirks in a small smile, and the guilt from ten minutes ago consumes you.

“fuck, i’m so sorry,” your frown deepens, closing your eyes when his lips press to your temple, remaining against your heated skin. “i’m so sorry for lashing out at you, i’m just,” you sigh, “i’m just overwhelmed and,” you glance up in thought, “in my own head.”

“i understand, baby,” he soothes, warm eyes finding yours to show he’s being genuine. “it’s all gonna work out, i promise.”

you inhale and sit up straighter, cupping his cheeks as you position your face in front of his. you stare at each other for a moment before he cups your jaw, adoringly squishing your cheeks with his fingers.

jungkook laughs as you pucker your lips, sliding his hands down to rest under your jaw when you tilt your head to the side, pressing your mouth to his.

with each pass of his lips over yours, you feel the ache in your head lessen. your heart reaches out for him and squeezes him closer to you.

he hums as you pull back and immediately go in for more, taking turns capturing your bottom and top lip between his. you grip on tighter to him to momentarily stop the world from spinning around you.

breaking apart for air, jungkook giggles as you unattractively sniff with your full nose, your fingers absentmindedly playing with his hair.

“sexy, huh?” you raise a brow, and jungkook’s features warm when the sparkle returns to your eye.

“duh,” he rolls his eyes, and there’s a beat of comfortable silence as you both recover from your breakdown.

“i love you so much,” you murmur, “thank you for everything you do.”

“yah, kiss-ass,” he teases, his high-pitched laugh escaping his mouth when you pinch his side as punishment for his snark.

“ugh, nevermind,” you sigh as you stand up, and he smiles at you in return, holding onto your hand to help you back over into your chair.

“i love you more,” he sings, chortling as you squint your eyes at him in response.

you redirect your gaze back to your notebook, still looking tired but not as weary as you did before.

jungkook lifts himself to reassume his position from earlier and stands behind you, dropping his arms around your neck. you tilt your neck as he plants a kiss onto the top of your head.

sensing your reluctance to go back to work, he leans down further, his cheek pressing against yours. the gesture seems to melt you back into your chair as the both of you stare ahead at your laptop screen.

“okay,” he starts, understanding your process, “how about some tea to get you through this last part?”

he waits patiently as you think it over. his eyes travel from the screen to your features, staring at your lashes touching your cheek each time you blink.

there’s a hint of water clinging to your bottom lashes, and the sight makes his heart squeeze in his chest.

“yeah, actually,” you answer softly, gently craning your neck so that you can press your lips to his, kissing him one, two, three, four times.

“you’re the best boyfriend ever,” you whisper against his lips, some of the tension in your body already subsiding.

his cheeks go pink with your praise, dark eyes catching the dining room light as he puffs air out of his nostrils.

wordlessly, you let your head hang off the back of the chair, closing your eyes when jungkook’s hand comes to support the back of your head, dipping down to kiss you again.

his fingers rub soothing circles into your neck, causing an involuntary noise to rise up from your throat.

you break apart with a “tch,” noise, pouting when he pulls his arms from around you.

“nooo,” you try to grip onto his fingers, jungkook chuckling as he pokes your bottom lip back into place.

meeting your lips one last time, it takes everything in him to step away from you, pointing at your dimmed laptop screen.

“i’ll be right back,” he soothes, “and i promise i’ll sit here with you the whole time.”

you smile despite yourself, because jungkook is simply the light of your life.

“you better. you’re my emotional support human.”

#bts fanfiction #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #bts comfort #bts reader insert #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook comfort

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chimcess · 7 months ago

Text

Unparalleled || jjk

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Other tags: Idol!Jungkook, Photographer!Reader Word Count: 6.6k+ Genre: One-shot, established relationship, PWP, long distance relationship AU, smut Synopsis: You had only met him once, a fleeting moment in the grand scheme of things, and the fact that he was on the other side of the hotel door felt surreal. Or, after being in a long-distance relationship for over a year, you and Jungkook are finally meeting up. Warnings: This is literally just porn, there’s a plot but it’s just filth, soft-dom JK, he calls reader “baby,” oral (m&f), d*ck piercing, tatted jk, jk wears glasses (the entire time), dirty talk, desperate sex, couch sex, they barely made it inside tbh, protected sex (wrap it up babes), multiple positions, light begging, light body worship, light praise, some teasing, reader cums on his face, multiple orgasms, nipple play, nipple sucking, some nipple biting, hair pulling, aftercare cuddling, sweet ending, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: I’m still getting used to writing smut, so I’m sorry if this is a bit awkward in some spots. Found this in my drafts, so I fixed it up a little bit and decided to post it. Thanks for reading.

Staring down at my fidgeting hands, I felt like the taxi was closing in on me, every tick of the clock amplifying the sense of claustrophobia. Twenty minutes felt like an eternity, dragging by as if time itself were taunting me. I stole another glance at my phone, re-reading Jungkook's last message like it was some sort of magic spell.

Kookie: 324

It was surreal to think he was right here in California, just a short drive away, no oceans or time zones separating us. My leg bounced nervously beneath the table, the excitement swirling in my stomach like butterflies in a frenzy. Each moment felt charged with anticipation, a thrilling energy that made my heart race. I quickly typed out a response, adding a heart emoji before sending my location. Jungkook always said sharing my location made him feel closer to me, bridging the gap between our worlds, even with his whirlwind schedule that rarely left room for anything else. Being one of the biggest pop stars had a way of pulling a guy in a million directions.

I couldn’t help but smile as I recalled our first meeting. It was right after the lockdown ended, during his band’s visit to California for a concert and the Grammys. I still vividly remembered standing by the snack table, nervously clutching a half-empty cup of soda, when our eyes met for the first time. There was an electric spark in that moment, something I hadn’t realized I’d been missing. His grin was infectious, his playful nature shining through, and my heart had skipped a beat at the sound of his laughter. It echoed in my mind like a melody I wanted to play on repeat.

A few months later, we had entered a long-distance relationship, navigating the challenges of his demanding career while trying to keep our connection alive. Late-night video calls, flirty texts, and the occasional surprise visit were our lifelines, but nothing could compare to the rush of being together in the same room. And now, the thought of finally seeing him in person again sent a rush of warmth through me, a blend of hope and nervous energy that was hard to contain.

As I waited, I replayed our conversations in my mind—each one a thread weaving our lives together despite the distance. We shared dreams, fears, and whispered secrets, laying the groundwork for something beautiful and profound. The thought of being in his presence again, of feeling his warmth and the comfort of his touch, made my heart race with excitement.

I glanced at the clock again, biting my lip in anticipation. Each minute stretched into hours, the seconds crawling by. Would he still feel the same? Would our chemistry translate into real life as effortlessly as it did through screens and messages? Doubts flitted through my mind, but I shook them off, focusing on the joy of the moment. Jungkook was just a heartbeat away, and soon, I would be in his arms. The very idea sent a shiver down my spine.

My phone buzzed, startling me out of my thoughts. I scrambled to open the notification, my heart racing. If Jungkook messaged, I had to respond quickly. Our conversations were a race against time, a way to squeeze moments of connection into his packed schedule. Phone calls were our only reliable lifeline, but the language barrier complicated things. We were both trying, though Jungkook's English was much better than my Korean.

Kookie: 나는 신나요

Giggling, I typed back a response.

Y/N: 나도

Kookie: Good job, 자기~

Nothing made Jungkook happier than seeing me try to improve my Korean. He always insisted it was adorable, his smile brightening every time I stumbled through a phrase. Yoongi was usually the more honest one, quick to point out my mispronunciations, but Jungkook wore that supportive boyfriend badge with pride, even if it meant telling me little white lies.

As the taxi pulled up to the hotel, my heart raced with a mix of excitement and anxiety. I thanked the driver, tipping generously as I stepped out into the warm night air. The moment I did, the fragrant scent of blooming jasmine wafted around me, mingling with the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore. I had only packed a small bag for our two-night stay, not knowing how much time we’d actually have together. Remembering that, I hurried up the steps, my footsteps echoing against the marble tiles.

The Sunset Hotel was unlike anything I’d imagined. I had envisioned a quiet, almost sleepy place, but instead, it was alive with activity. I couldn’t believe it was two in the morning; the lobby was bustling, a vibrant mix of laughter, clinking glasses, and the faint notes of live music drifting from the bar area. The energy crackled in the air like electricity, and I felt an exhilarating rush. Yet, amidst the lively atmosphere, a wave of inadequacy washed over me. Just a few moments ago, in the taxi, I had almost forgotten about Jungkook’s status as one of the biggest pop stars in the world, but now, beneath the sparkling chandelier that cast shimmering patterns across the polished floor, it was impossible to ignore.

As I walked through the brightly lit lobby, I caught glimpses of elegantly dressed guests, their conversations animated, their laughter ringing out like musical notes. I felt like a fish out of water, dressed in a casual sundress while they flaunted designer attire. Who would have thought my years in the service industry—working late nights and juggling demanding customers—would lead me here, about to meet someone who could afford such luxury? The thought both thrilled and terrified me.

At the front desk, the staff shot me quick, assessing looks. Their eyes were sharp, as if measuring my worth in this lavish setting. One of the hosts greeted me with a forced smile that felt far too wide for comfort. “Welcome to the Sunset Hotel! How can I assist you tonight?” Their voice dripped with that practiced hospitality, but I could sense a subtle skepticism beneath the surface.

“Um, I’m here to check in,” I replied, my voice steady despite the fluttering in my chest. I fished my phone out of my bag, ready to show them the reservation I’d made, but the host raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the computer screen as if evaluating my very presence.

“Name?” they asked, still wearing that unnaturally bright smile.

“Y/N,” I replied, and I held my breath as they typed it in. A brief moment of silence stretched between us, the bustling lobby fading into a distant murmur as I waited for their response.

“Ah, yes! We have you right here,” they said finally, their tone shifting to one of mild surprise. “You’re the other half of 324, correct?” They looked at me again, and I could feel the weight of their judgment, as if I were a puzzle they were trying to fit into a larger picture.

“Right,” I said, attempting to keep my tone light. “Should just be for the weekend.”

The host’s smile remained, but the glint in their eye suggested they were piecing together the details, perhaps even recognizing my connection to Jungkook. As they handed me the key card, I felt a rush of anxiety. What if they didn’t think I belonged here? What if Jungkook didn’t feel the same way about me once we were together?

I took the key, my fingers brushing against the cool surface, and turned to head toward the elevator. I was acutely aware of the looks I was receiving, a mix of curiosity and skepticism from both staff and guests alike. The air was thick with expectations, and I could almost hear the whispers in my mind, doubting whether I was truly worthy of this moment. But I pushed those thoughts aside. This was about Jungkook and me, our connection. And soon, I would be in his presence, feeling the warmth of his smile and the excitement of our reunion.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the elevator, the doors closing behind me like a protective barrier from the outside world. As the car ascended, I clutched my bag, heart racing with every passing floor. This was it. In just a few moments, I would be face-to-face with the boy who had ignited something within me, and no amount of uncertainty could overshadow that truth.

I shifted from foot to foot in the cramped elevator, the anticipation eating away at me like a swarm of butterflies taking flight in my stomach. Each second felt like an eternity, stretching my nerves thinner and thinner. I took out my phone, biting back a smile as I contemplated the moment. It was so surreal that I was just a few moments away from seeing Jungkook again after what felt like an eternity apart.

In a burst of excitement, I snapped a quick picture of the elevator doors opening, the sleek metallic finish reflecting the soft glow of the lobby lights. I sent it to Jungkook with a playful caption: *“Almost there!”* Watching the little blue ticks appear, I felt a rush of warmth, knowing he’d see it almost instantly.

Once inside the elevator, I pressed the button for the third floor with a mix of hope and trepidation. It only made sense that the 300s would be located on the third floor, right? Still, the absence of any signs directing me left me feeling a bit disoriented. The elevator hummed softly, its gentle movement barely easing the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind.

The walls felt a bit too close, almost as if they were closing in on me, but I took a deep breath, willing myself to relax. I replayed the memories of our conversations, the laughter we shared, and the longing I felt every time we parted. The excitement pulsing through me was intoxicating, a vivid contrast to the anxious tension coiling in my chest.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my hand, jolting me out of my reverie. I glanced down, my heart skipping a beat as I saw Jungkook's name flashing on the screen.

Kookie: I’m going to kiss you so much.

I couldn’t help but smile. I hoped kissing would be just the beginning of what would happen tonight. After a year of building up tension, I didn’t want to wait anymore. I wanted him.

Y/N: 또?

Kookie: I can’t think of it in English.

Rolling my eyes, I groaned. That was his way of avoiding a question. I knew he understood, but it amused me more than anything. Slowly, my nerves eased, and I felt more confident about seeing him, even if we were hiding away in a hotel I could never afford, lying on expensive sheets while the world outside spun with sharp eyes and curious gazes.

As the elevator dinged softly, signaling my arrival at the third floor, I felt a surge of adrenaline. The doors slid open smoothly, revealing a dimly lit hallway lined with plush carpeting and framed art pieces that whispered of elegance. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out, the plush carpet muffling my footsteps as I moved forward. The anticipation hung in the air like a charged atmosphere before a storm, and I could almost feel Jungkook’s presence drawing me closer.

I glanced at the room numbers, scanning for his. As I walked, I imagined what it would be like to finally be face-to-face with him. Would he look the same? Would that boyish grin still light up his face when he saw me? The thought sent my heart racing as I turned a corner, catching sight of the numbers I had been searching for.

Room 324. My breath caught in my throat, and for a fleeting moment, I hesitated, overwhelmed by a wave of nerves. What if things were different now? What if he had changed? But I quickly shook off the doubts; this was Jungkook, the boy I had laughed and shared secrets with, the one who had kept my heart fluttering even from a distance.

With a firm resolve, I approached the door, my heart pounding in rhythm with my steps. I held my breath, the moment stretching out like a taut string ready to snap. Would he answer? Would he be excited to see me? I could hardly contain the anticipation, my heart racing as I waited for that door to swing open. The air crackled with anticipation, buzzing with the weight of what was about to happen.

I raised my hand to knock, but before my knuckles could even touch the wood, the door swung open. And there he was—Jungkook.

He was everything I remembered: pitch-black hair tousled in a way that was both effortless and enticing, metal glinting in the light, thin, silver rimmed glasses, and a thin white t-shirt clinging to his muscular frame. It felt surreal, like stepping into a vivid dream, but this was no illusion. This was real, and it took my breath away.

"You," I whispered, the word slipping out like a gasp.

His dark eyes widened in surprise, delight flickering across his features. My heart raced as I watched him take me in, his expression shifting from uncertainty to something deeper, more intimate. Had he been waiting for this moment as much as I had? Was he just as happy as I felt?

All my doubts faded when that eyebrow, heavy with steel, raised in appreciation instead of scorn. He stepped into the hallway, and my heart pounded wildly, the space between us charged with an unspoken promise.

"You," he echoed, his voice low and husky as he took my hand in his, guiding me back into his room.

He kicked the door shut behind him. The air thickened as he moved closer, inches separating us, electric and intoxicating. I inhaled the scent of him—soap and laundry detergent—sending shivers down my spine. A soft whimper escaped my lips, desire pooling in my stomach like a spark waiting to ignite.

With an air of confidence, he advanced, and I leaned back, the weight of his presence drawing me in like gravity. I stopped when my back hit the couch, the world outside fading away as we paused, our breaths mingling in the charged silence. My fingers, betraying me, reached up to trace the row of piercings in his eyebrow, trailing down the line of his jaw to his lips. They were soft and rosy, a striking contrast to the rough stubble that scratched my palm.

In that moment, he darted his tongue out, the pointed tip brushing against my fingers, and I moaned softly, the sound echoing in the intimate space between us, igniting the fire that had been simmering beneath the surface.

And then he was on me.

He seized my hand, guiding it into the tousled mess of hair I had longed to touch. It was softer than I had imagined, and I lost myself in it. His mouth descended on mine, a fiery torrent of passion and urgency. My body responded instinctively, arching into him as our breaths mingled, his desire palpable against my stomach, the taste of longing lingering on his lips.

His palm traced a path down my arm, firm and possessive, sliding over my shoulder and back again. He tugged at the buttons of my cardigan, peeling the fabric away to reveal the inked skin beneath. I shivered at the roughness of his touch, a thrilling contrast to the softness of his kiss.

Breaking away, I pressed my mouth against the line of his jaw, trailing wet kisses toward the piercings in his ear, letting my tongue tease them as my breath washed hot against his skin.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you?” He whispered against my lips.

I panted, my fingers tangling tightly in his hair.

His hands tightened around my arms, pulling us together, the weight of our bodies colliding in a desperate embrace. “Every single day,” he swore, his voice rough yet melodic. He began a slow, deliberate exploration of my neck, the heat of his tongue tracing my pulse and making me shudder. “Every night that you called me, whispering sweet nothings in that voice. It drove me insane. I just wanted to hop on a plane and have you in my lap.”

“God, I wish you would have,” I gasped, feeling the bite of his teeth just below my collarbone, a thrilling blend of pain and pleasure that made me clench around nothing. “Why didn’t you?”

“You make me nervous,” he murmured, teasing aside the cup of my bra.

He took my nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking against the bud with reverence. I whined in pleasure, arching into him. Emboldened, he bit down.

“Self-conscious, huh?” I teased, winded and shaking from pleasure, even as my nails dug into his back, urging him closer. “I have a hard time believing that right now.”

He pulled back, capturing my face in his strong hands, kissing me fiercely as a low growl escaped him. “Believe it.”

We kissed with a fierce intensity that made me feel like I was on fire, the heat radiating off him, his glasses pressing against my face. He shifted to remove them, but I caught his wrists, holding him in place.

“Don’t,” I growled. “I like them.”

A primal sound erupted from his chest, desperate and raw. He lifted me effortlessly, settling me against the back of the couch, our bodies grinding together, my thighs aligning perfectly with the hard heat of his jeans. Each thrust sent a new wave of pleasure surging through me, my head falling back as I teetered on the brink of ecstasy, feeling weightless and electric, consumed by a desire that felt like it could set us both ablaze.

But he caught me. Just as I was about to tumble backward into dizzying, white-hot pleasure, his arms wrapped around me, firm and unyielding, pulling me against the solid expanse of his chest. My breath came in quick, frantic gasps, my heart racing like a wild animal as I clung to him, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, drawing him closer.

“Careful, pretty girl,” he breathed into my ear, a soft murmur that sent shivers racing down my spine. I grasped at his back, fingers digging into the taut muscles, anchoring myself to him, afraid of being swept away in the tide of desire threatening to pull me under.

My hands roamed from his back, gliding over his shoulders and down his arms as he stroked his fingertips along my thighs, mapping a path from my knees to my hips and back again. His skin was warm, electric under my touch, and I traced the intricate black curls of ink adorning his pale flesh—an abstract tapestry resolving into a lion on one arm and a lamb on the other.

“You’re beautiful,” I gasped, the words spilling out before I could stop them, but he silenced me with another heated kiss.

My fingers fumbled at the hem of his t-shirt, desperate to see what those curls of ink transformed into beneath the fabric. He shifted me closer, his grip on me unwavering, even as his hands momentarily released me to lift his arms above his head. Seizing the opportunity, I tugged at his shirt, peeling it away to reveal the canvas of his torso, the intricate lines of ink telling stories I longed to hear.

I barely had time to take in the intricate Sanskrit lines etched along his side and the lone kanji character hovering over his heart before he was lifting my shirt, pulling it over my head. For a heartbeat, I was enveloped in darkness, blinded by the fabric. My hands scrambled behind me, fumbling to unclasp my bra, and he kissed a heated trail along the bare skin of my shoulder as the straps slipped down my arms.

“I love this,” he murmured against my skin, his lips trailing softly across my collarbone, down my ribs, and back to my breast, igniting every nerve in my body. “And I love it all the more because of this.”

His tongue brushed over the small butterfly tattoo on my ribcage.

His fingers roamed lower, and when he pulled away, I let out a whimper of protest, longing for his touch. The light-headed sensation returned, reminding me just how long it had been since a man had touched me—since I’d felt filled.

I braced myself with one hand against the edge of the couch while the other tangled in his tousled hair, relishing its softness as it slipped through my fingers. His mouth found my stomach, his tongue dipping into my navel, tracing a tantalizing line toward my most sensitive spot. I gasped, an overwhelming hunger igniting deep within me. I had been yearning for this, for him, and the desperate need flooded my senses.

With deft fingers, he teased apart the button of my fly and drew down the zipper, revealing delicate black lace beneath. He licked and sucked his way to my hip, his hand lingering on my abdomen, thumb skirting under the edge of my underwear before descending lower, finally finding bare, glistening skin. When his fingers grazed my clit, pleasure surged through me, and I nearly cried out at its raw intensity.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping,” he cursed, his voice rough with desire as he buried his face against the joint of my hip and thigh.

“For you,” I groaned, my body arching instinctively. “I’ve been wet for months just thinking about you.”

A low growl escaped him, and in a blur of motion, he tore the hem of my jeans down, ripping them from my body until I was left in nothing but my panties. He pushed my naked thighs up and over his shoulders, positioning his head exactly where I craved him to be.

I struggled to contain my frantic breaths, fast and shallow, echoing my absolute need to feel his hands, his mouth, to be consumed by him entirely. He inhaled deeply, reverently, his nose brushing against the lace where my body met my thigh. The sensation sent shockwaves through me, rendering me breathless.

He wrapped one hand around my leg while the other snaked behind me, gripping my ass firmly, anchoring me as he pulled the soaked fabric aside, exposing my bare skin to his hungry gaze. His thumb descended onto my clit, and I gasped, waves of need crashing over me as pleasure radiated from his touch. I cried out, the sound escaping me like a prayer, my body arching toward him, desperate for more.

And then he kissed me, his mouth capturing my clit with an intensity that sent me spiraling.

The moans clawing their way from my chest were unrecognizable, a desperate symphony of need as I became a writhing mass of pure, unadulterated hunger. Unlatching himself, his thumb worked expertly at my clit, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through me. His tongue darted out, teasing the edges of my entrance before plunging inside, and I felt the pressure building, the storm that had been gathering finally reaching its peak until I exploded, my thighs clenching around his face as my body ignited into a searing inferno.

I teetered on the edge of ecstasy, and then I actually fell over, the world spiraling away.

When I regained awareness, I was sprawled across the back of the couch, my neck twisted awkwardly, the top of my head grazing the seat cushion. My arms draped limply above me while my thighs remained anchored to his shoulders. He gazed down at me, a mixture of curiosity and satisfaction etched across his face, his mouth glistening—a testament to our fervor.

With a wicked smirk, he wiped his mouth with his forearm, leaving me in my awkward state as he peeled my panties down my body, rendering me completely exposed and unable to rise. His finger glided along my opening, my body still thrumming with aftershocks from one of the most intense orgasms I’d ever experienced. When he dipped gently inside, I gasped.

“Is this what you want, Y/N? My hands inside you?”

I found myself ensnared in a whirlwind of emotions; I craved this intimacy with him more than anything, yet it felt like just a fragment of the whole picture. The sensation of his fingers deep within me was intoxicating, but beneath that, there lingered a yearning for more—more than just his hands. I ached for him—his body hovering over mine, the heat radiating from him as I traced the ink etched across his skin, my tongue teasing the silver piercings that adorned him.

“Yes. No. God, I want you,” I gasped, my voice a mixture of longing and desperation.

He raised a pierced eyebrow, still kneeling before me, his fingers buried deep inside me. “Want your cock.”

“You want this dick?” he asked, his tone both teasing and serious.

“Yes,” I panted, the word slipping out as both a plea and a command.

“Where?”

I knew exactly where I wanted him; the desire burned brightly within me. “Everywhere. My hand. My mouth. My pussy. Just… everywhere.”

A low growl escaped him, reverberating through my body, raw and hungry. But just as quickly, his fingers slipped away, leaving me aching and empty. He gripped my hips, securing me against him and the back of the couch, rising to slide my slick core against the hard line of his body. The urgency of his arousal pressed against me, igniting a fire within.

He leaned down, gathering me into his arms, kissing me with such fervor that I felt dizzy, his hardness grinding against me—a promise of what was to come.

I pushed him away gently, his expression shifting to one of confusion, but all I needed was a moment to slide off the couch and drop to my knees. He groaned as I ran my nose along the thick outline of him through his jeans, feeling him twitch in response to my teasing. With trembling hands, I tugged his pants and boxers down, revealing him—long, thick, and glistening with anticipation.

The chrome piercing at the tip caught the light, gleaming enticingly.

Looking up, I found him hovering above me, his body bared save for those damn glasses. His intense gaze locked onto mine, a silent plea reflected in his brown eyes. “Y/N,” I breathed, letting my warm breath wash over the tip of him. He groaned, his fingers tangling in my hair, urging me forward.

“God, I want to feel your mouth on me,” he implored, igniting a wild hunger within me.

I opened my mouth, eager and wet, my lips closing around the head of him, my tongue tracing the underside, the cool metal against warm flesh sending shivers down my spine.

“Y/N.”

I pulled away before I could take him too deep, trailing my mouth down his length, savoring every moment as I buried my nose into the soft hair at the base of him. He was practically whimpering, and I couldn’t resist the urge to pump him twice with my hand, the slickness gliding over him before I took him into my mouth, relaxing my throat to envelop him. Yet even with all my efforts, I couldn’t fit him completely, and I rubbed my thighs together, craving the moment he would finally fill me.

I moved my mouth up and down his length, achingly slow, feeling the tension coiling within him, his hips twitching, restrained. He wanted to thrust, to take control, but I held him back, guiding his movements while keeping him still. I could sense his legs trembling, teetering on the edge, so I pulled off, leaving him panting, his length throbbing, a testament to our shared desire.

Kissing the sharp bone of his hip, I pulled his pants the rest of the way down as he kicked off his shoes, the fabric sliding away like a whisper in the night. Just as I was about to toss the jeans aside, he stopped me, his voice low and husky. “Back pocket.”

Curiosity piqued, I glanced up at him through narrowed eyes and retrieved the little foil package from his back pocket. I noticed at least two more tucked away, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he had remarkable recovery time or if he was planning a very long weekend with me. Both notions sent a thrilling rush coursing through me

I held the condom up between two of my fingers. Jungkook snatched the package from me, tearing it open with a deft motion, rolling it over his cock from tip to base. He pressed his sheathed length against my hip, our bodies brushing together with a desperation that left me breathless.

“Turn,” he commanded, gently pushing at my shoulder. I obeyed, and his hands shoved me down, bending me from the waist, positioning my elbows on the back of the couch. When he was satisfied with my submission, he settled his hands firmly on my shoulder blades, a searing presence that felt as though it might melt through my skin, branding me with his touch.

His hands glided down my sides, over my ribs and hips, finally settling on my ass, rubbing it appreciatively. The edges of his fingers grazed my lips, parting them, and I jerked backward, feeling the heat of his cock resting against my back.

“Wider, baby,” he cooed, his fingers sliding over my trembling thighs. I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by the rush of sensation, and obeyed, spreading my legs for him. His knees bent between mine, the tip of his cock gliding tantalizingly from my clit to my entrance, brushing against me but not penetrating.

“Please, Jungkook,” I panted, desperation clawing at my throat as I felt myself teetering on the edge of begging.

Even he found himself pleading. “Please let me inside you,” he whispered, his length teasingly tracing my wet flesh, dipping slightly to part my lips but not filling the aching void within me.

“Yes,” I groaned, finally feeling the head of his cock pressing against my entrance, slipping into me inch by glorious inch. Nothing had ever felt this intense. “Fuck, yes,” I moaned, his grip hot and possessive at my hip while the other hand cradled the back of my neck, steadying me.

It was maddening not being able to move, even though all I wanted was to rock back and pull him deeper.

My body stretched as he pushed forward, achingly slow until he was fully seated within me, his hips flush against my backside. I gasped as he filled me completely. The sensation was electrifying, and I felt him rock back slightly before surging forward again, the combination of his length and the hot tip of metal against my walls making my eyes roll.

“Please,” I urged, my mantra of ‘yes’ and ‘fuck me’ spiraling from my lips as he finally began to thrust with abandon, our bodies locked in a passionate dance.

He tightened his grip on my hip, the other hand sliding to the middle of my back, pushing down. I could feel his movements becoming erratic, less steady—so close to coming inside me.

But I didn’t want it to end like this. Not after all this time.

“No, stop,” I breathed, the words barely escaping my lips before he froze, a pained sound erupting from him like a wounded animal.

“Please, Jesus, Y/N, you can’t—”

I glanced over my shoulder at him, squeezing him tightly inside me. The resulting moan from his throat sent a jolt of electricity through my body. The rejection and frustration etched across his face twisted my heart. “After all this time missing you,” I whispered, locking eyes with him, “I need to see you. I need to see you come.”

In an instant, he withdrew, turning my body roughly until I felt the couch pressing against me once more. Supporting my back with one hand, he parted my thighs with fierce urgency, stepping into them and plunging back inside me. I screamed, the sound echoing through the empty corners of the room.

His face was close to mine as he began to move again, quick, short thrusts finding a new rhythm. Our sweaty brows collided, the metal hoops of his piercings scratching my skin, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. His name spilled from my lips as we captured each other in another fiery kiss, a moment so intense I thought I could lose myself entirely in the swirl of our bodies, his ink swirling around us like dark tendrils of smoke.

His patience began to fray as he kissed me harder, his body pressing into mine with more urgency. I felt the fiery bloom of pleasure building again, hot and electric, and I craved him hard and fast—a deep connection stripped of all restraint.

He must have sensed my need, too, as he quickened his pace. “Hold on, baby,” he instructed, and I complied, wrapping my arms and legs around him tightly. I let him brace himself against the back of the couch as he drove into me, his pubic bone hitting my clit with each thrust, the metal piercing hitting deep within me making me mewl.

“I’m coming, Y/N. Fuck,” he moans, the raw desperation in his voice igniting something primal within me.

His face contorts in a beautiful, twisted expression of pleasure, each thrust deeper, harder, as if he’s trying to etch this moment into my very soul. The intensity of his words washes over me like a tidal wave, pulling me into a realm of oblivion. My body pulses in rhythm with his, a white-hot light flashing behind my closed eyes, merging with the vision of him—so fully present in my arms, lost in the sheer ecstasy we’ve created together.

As the world around us faded, time seemed to suspend, leaving only the two of us in a cocoon of warmth and intimacy. I could feel the weight of our shared moments pressing against us, every sensation amplified in the silence that enveloped the room. Slowly, we began to come back to ourselves, his body still pressed against mine, a gentle reminder of the electrifying connection we had just shared. The feeling of him lingering inside me sent shivers down my spine, and our breaths intertwined in a rhythm that was both calming and exhilarating.

We exchanged soft kisses, each one delicate and filled with unspoken promises, contrasting the raw passion that had ignited between us moments before. It was a tender kind of intimacy, one that held the power to ground us in a whirlwind of emotions.

After a moment, he pulled away, slipping out of me with a reluctance that made my heart ache just a little. The sudden emptiness was palpable, a gentle reminder of the closeness we had just experienced. Jungkook reached for the condom, his movements careful and deliberate, disposing of it in the wastebasket beside the couch. When he turned back to me, the soft glow of the room caught the contours of his face, illuminating him in a way that made him look almost ethereal.

“You’re really here,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the magic of the moment.

“I’m here,” I replied, unable to suppress the grin that broke across my face. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and this moment felt surreal.

Jungkook walked back over to the couch, his gaze roaming over my features as if he were trying to memorize every detail. “You look even better than I remembered,” he said, his smile soft and genuine, lighting up his eyes.

“And you look exhausted,” I teased, noticing the faint shadows under his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights and busy days.

He laughed, the sound brightening the room and melting away any remnants of anxiety I had carried with me. “It’s been a crazy week, but seeing you makes it all worth it.”

A smile broke across my face, the tension of the past months finally beginning to dissolve. For the first time since I had arrived, I took in my surroundings. The room felt both elegant and cozy, drenched in soft light, with tasteful decor that radiated warmth. A large bed dominated the space, its crisp white sheets looking impossibly inviting, and I found myself wishing we could make our way over there. It seemed far more comfortable than the couch.

“How was your flight?” Jungkook asked, bending down to plant a gentle kiss on my forehead, sending warmth flooding through me.

“Long,” I admitted. “But I couldn’t sleep. I was too excited.” The truth was, anticipation had been buzzing in my veins like electricity ever since I’d set foot on the plane.

He settled next to me on the couch, his hand finding mine, our fingers intertwining in a way that felt instinctive. “I’ve missed you so much,” he said, his thumb tracing small patterns on my skin, making my heart flutter in response.

“I’ve missed you too,” I replied, squeezing his hand tightly. “It feels like forever.”

We fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the city lights twinkling outside like a constellation trapped within a glass jar. The reality of being here with him began to sink in, settling deep in my bones. No more video calls with choppy connections or hurried texts exchanged amid the chaos of our lives—just us, flesh and blood, finally in the same place.

Breaking the quiet, Jungkook’s tone turned serious, slicing through the warmth that enveloped us. “How are you holding up? I know it’s been tough.”

I took a deep breath, weighing my response. “It’s been hard,” I admitted, the truth heavy on my tongue. “But knowing we’d have this, even just a couple of days, kept me going.”

He nodded, understanding etched on his face. “It’s the same for me. The craziness of the tour and the constant traveling—it’s all worth it knowing I get to see you.”

His words wrapped around me like a warm blanket on a cold night, soothing my weary soul. We talked for hours, drifting through a sea of conversation that felt both substantial and light, catching up on everything and nothing. His stories from the tour spilled out with infectious excitement, his eyes alight like fireflies in the dark. I shared my own experiences, and with every word, the distance between us began to melt away until it felt like the space of a single breath.

Eventually, exhaustion crept in like a gentle shadow, heavy yet comforting. Jungkook stood up and held out his hand, a playful glimmer in his eyes. “Come on,” he said, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Let’s move to the bed. It’s way more comfortable.”

I took his hand, allowing him to guide me across the room. The large bed loomed before us, inviting and cozy, the crisp white sheets beckoning like a sanctuary. As we settled into the plush comfort, I felt a wave of contentment wash over me, a feeling that we were finally exactly where we were meant to be. We lay side by side, fingers intertwined like threads in a tapestry, the world outside fading into a dull hum, the city’s chaos a distant memory.

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melancholy-of-nadia · 9 months ago

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infatuation (m) | myg

title: infatuation pairing: yoongi x f. reader rating/genre: m ; smut ; agust d universe (AgustDverse based in Haegeum) ; gang leader / mafia AU summary: Living with fragmented and blurry memories has lead you to live under the roof of Bangkok's biggest secret crime boss, Agust D, as his bodyguard. Though, being confined to the mansion most of the time has made you feel isolated, craving freedom and answers. When he decides to take you out to dinner for the first time, the atmosphere is charged with tension and suspicion. You're not the only one who's patience is wearing thin, however, instead, it's discovering this man's infatuation with you that will lead you to change your mind. warnings: weapon mention (katana), reader has minor amnesia, back and forth arguing, murder mention, deep fish imagery/analogy, haegeum!suga mention, dominant haegeum! agust d, making out, penthouse s*x, f*ngering, cl*t stimulation, orgasm denial, choking, power imbalance, bl*w job, bre*st play, spiting, deep throating, pet names, agust d praises you by calling you "good girl", unprotected s*x, lowkey breeding k*nk, choking, possessiveness, multiple orgasms, uh i think that's it!... yandere? haegeum!agust d maybe note: it's been a year since i uploaded my first fic in this universe i call the AgustDverse. Also the first fic that got me into writing bts fics! I've been requested to continue this universe by my dear friend @daegudrama. I don't know if it'll ever become an actual cohesive series, but if you guys like it, let me know! also this is veerrrryyyyy much unedited im sorry i will edit later word count: 6.0k drop date: August 6th, 2024 7:30pm PST mood playlist | ao3 link – –

You never thought you'd find yourself in this situation—nestled within the mansion walls of a mafia boss masquerading as a police detective.

Known as Agust D.

How did you get here? It's a question that continuously echoes through your mind like a constant drumbeat.

It’s not an easy question to answer. It’s actually pretty complicated. Time travel? A quantum jump? You don’t know whatever scientific phenomenon this is.

But for your own sanity, you decided not to dwell too much on it, especially when the present demands your full attention.

Agust has let you live here under the guise of acting as his bodyguard, which is perhaps the strangest thing you've ever done. You had no prior guarding experience, but the katana sword that hangs by your side now tells otherwise. This item is a constant reminder of your supposed purpose here: to protect the mansion, to protect Agust D. But deep down, you know there's more to this arrangement than meets the eye.

Tonight, however, is different. Agust D, the enigmatic master of this mansion, has extended an invitation—an invitation to dine at an upscale Chinese restaurant. It's a rare opportunity to step beyond the confines of these walls, to breathe in the outside world, if only for a fleeting moment.

As you stand before the full-length mirror in your room, you can't help but feel a surge of apprehension. The maids have stated that Agust D insisted you wear a black satin dress he selected for the occasion—a garment that feels foreign against your skin, yet somehow fitting for the night. You’re too used to wearing a collared white button-up and a plaid skirt for most of the time while you’re at the mansion. You don’t know how long you’d been wearing that, but definitely longer than a young girl who’s in prep school.

Adjusting the delicate fabric, you take in your reflection, the unfamiliarity of the attire almost unnerving.

A knock at the door interrupts your contemplation, and without waiting for a response, Agust D enters, his presence commanding the room. Dressed in a tailored black suit that exudes power and authority, he regards you with a scrutinizing gaze.

"You look stunning," he remarks, a hint of satisfaction tugging at the corners of his lips. "Are you ready to go?"

With a half nod, you follow him down the stairs and out of the mansion, the cool night air wrapping around you like a shroud of secrecy. Then you hop into the black sports car, which Yoongi decides to drive this time instead of his chauffeur.

The journey to the restaurant is silent, punctuated only by the quiet sounds of the piano music playing, which came from connecting Agust D’s phone to the car’s aux.

He really does love Ryuichi Sakamoto’s music, you comment internally to yourself.

When you arrive at the restaurant, you're met with the grandeur of an upscale Chinese eatery perched on the top floor of a hotel building. The space is a harmonious blend of modern elegance and traditional opulence. As you step inside, the ambient chatter of elite people and the soft clinking of cutlery fill the air, creating a lively yet refined atmosphere that contrasts sharply with the muted silence of the mansion.

The restaurant’s interior is a feast for the senses. Rich, dark wood paneling lines the walls, accented by gold and red details that evoke a sense of luxury. Elegant lanterns hang from the ceiling, their warm, golden light casting a gentle glow across the room. The tables are adorned with crisp white linens, polished silverware, and delicate porcelain dishes, each piece carefully chosen to complement the sophisticated ambiance.

The scent of Chinese cuisine mingles with the faint aroma of incense, creating an inviting and tantalizing atmosphere. The restaurant's design features intricate latticework and traditional Chinese artwork, adding a touch of cultural authenticity to the modern setting. Plush, comfortable chairs surround each table, offering a sense of intimacy and relaxation.

As the restaurant host takes note of Agust D standing beside you, there’s a brief moment of panic in his eyes. He quickly ushers you both to a secluded corner of the establishment, a private nook separated from the rest of the dining area by elegant silk drapes. This area, though separated, still enjoys a view of the city skyline through large, floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a breathtaking panorama of the illuminated city below.

You are seated across from Agust, but there’s still a subtle awkward atmosphere surrounding the both of you when he orders and after the food arrives.

For a moment, the clinking of silverware against porcelain fills the silence before Agust D finally speaks.

"Do you still not remember anything?"

You hesitate, uncertainty flickering in the depths of your eyes about how to respond to him. "Bits and pieces," you admit, your gaze lingering on the dimly lit surroundings. "But nothing concrete. It's like trying to grasp at shadows."

His expression remains impassive, but you catch a fleeting glimpse of something else—something akin to regret, perhaps, or even longing. "It will come back to you," he says, his tone softer than before. "With time."

You only nod, going back to eating one of the xiaolongbao at the center of the table.

The air between you and Agust D grows heavier once again with unspoken words. You don’t like the silence. As someone who is very self-aware of their self, you feel compelled to break the silence to not be stuck in your head.

"Agust D," you begin tentatively, the name feeling foreign on your tongue yet strangely familiar. You don’t refer to him by name often, as you opt for ‘sir’ or the occasional ‘Hyungnim’. "Why did you bring me here tonight? You never do this sort of thing…"

He regards you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "Well, you've been cooped up in that mansion for so long," he replies cryptically, his gaze piercing through the facade you've carefully constructed. “Thought it would be good to treat you for your work.”

"But why now?" you press, unable to suppress the curiosity gnawing at your insides. "And wearing this?" You refer to the short piece of black fabric covering you.

Agust D's lips quirk up in a wry smile, though there's no warmth in it. "Maybe I wanted to see how you'd be like out… not on duty," he muses, his eyes never leaving yours. "Or perhaps I simply wanted company for the evening."

Company, huh? From the outside, it looks like you’re on a date. You wouldn’t doubt the restaurant staff is already gossiping from behind the curtains partitioning you from the rest of the world.

You can't help but feel a sense of unease at his words, a nagging suspicion that there's more to his motives than meets the eye. "Is that really all?" you press, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Or is there something else you're not telling me?"

For a moment, Agust D's mask slips, revealing a flicker of vulnerability beneath the facade of indifference. "There's always more to say," he murmurs, his gaze turning distant as if lost in memories you can't access. "But some things are better left unsaid."

What does he even mean by that? You feel like every time you speak even a bit casually to this man, you only end up more confused and maybe even a bit more scared.

"Agust D," you venture cautiously, "...are you still looking for Suga?"

At the mention of the name, a shadow passes over Agust D's features, his expression hardening into a mask of resolve. "Suga," he repeats, the name dripping with bitterness and contempt. "Of course I’m looking for him. That man is nothing but trouble. I need to get rid of him."

You can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the man whose name hangs between you like a specter, a reminder of the past you can't quite grasp. "But why? Why do you hate him so much?" you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Agust D's eyes darken with a mix of anger and regret, a storm raging beneath the surface. "He’s got my face and that in itself is a danger to all of us," he admits, his voice raw with emotion. "He could also be the answer to everything I've lost, but it’s better if that answer is never revealed."

The words hang heavy in the air from a confession laden with pain. And as you gaze into the depths of Agust D's eyes, you realize that beneath the cold exterior lies a man haunted by his past—a man who, like you, is searching for answers, but afraid to confront them. You want to pry into what he means, but you’re scared that he may act aggressively. So instead you change the topic.

"Don’t you know his whereabouts though?" you inquire softly, your voice laced with concern.

Agust D's gaze meets yours. "I do," he confirms, his voice low and measured. "He’s in Chinatown. Living in an apartment at the end of Weng Nakorn Kasem. But I can’t act on impulse. I’m too heavily involved in the Asia Pacific Police Union, and that already involves too many variables, too many unknowns."

A sense of foreboding settles over you as you listen to his words, the weight of his burdens pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. "What do you mean?" you press, your voice barely a whisper.

Agust D sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I can't move against him yet," he admits, his tone laced with resignation. "Not until I know how many people are on my side. There are spies within the organization. If I act too quickly, I could end up getting myself killed…"

The gravity of his words hangs heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the fragile truce that exists between you. And yet, despite the dangers that lurk in the darkness, you can't help but feel a flicker of hope. If you help him in capturing Suga, then maybe you’ll be able to piece your own puzzle together.

But would that even be a good idea?

"Agust D," you say softly, smiling gently at him, "you know you don't have to face this alone. Whatever happens, I'll stand by your side. Not like I have much of a choice anyway." Your words trail off at the end. He doesn’t comment on it though.

For a moment, there's a vulnerability in Agust D's gaze, a fleeting glimpse of the man beneath the mask. He reaches out to take your hand, his expression softening ever so slightly at your words. "Thanks," he murmurs, his voice a whisper in the dimly lit restaurant.

“It’s my job after all.”

––––––

After finishing dinner, the two of you begin to walk out of the restaurant, entering a long hallway that leads to large red sliding doors that exit. Your eyes drift toward the grand wall aquarium positioned near the exit, its towering glass panels reflecting the soft glow of the overhead lights.

The aquarium is a masterpiece of design, housing a diverse array of aquatic life within its transparent confines. Colorful coral reefs sway gently in the water, their vibrant hues casting mesmerizing patterns of light and shadow across the sandy substrate below.

But amidst the bustling underwater ecosystem, your gaze fixates on a lone goldfish, its sleek form gliding gracefully through the water. Its vibrant orange scales shimmer in the ambient light, a stark contrast to the subdued colors of its surroundings.

A pang of concern tugs at your heart as you watch the solitary fish navigate its artificial habitat. Don't goldfish typically reside in tranquil ponds, surrounded by the soothing sounds of nature? Is it even safe for them to be confined within the confines of this glass enclosure?

Lost in thought, you fail to notice Agust D's departure until you feel a gentle tug on your arm. Startled, you turn to find him regarding you with a curious expression, his gaze flickering between you and the aquarium.

"What's on your mind?" he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You tear your gaze away from the mesmerizing display before you, your thoughts still lingering on the lone koi fish. "I was just...thinking about that fish," you admit, gesturing toward the aquarium.

“The goldfish?”

“Mhm,” As you stand there, watching the solitary koi fish swim about, a wistful sigh escapes your lips. "I wish I were a fish sometimes," you murmur.

As funny as your sentence sounds, you thought the older man would laugh at you for making a comment like that. However, Agust D's gaze flickers at you, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

"Why's that?" he asks, his voice soft with intrigue.

You pause, contemplating your answer as you watch the graceful movements of the fish. "Uh, well they seem so free," you explain, your voice tinged with longing. “They get to go wherever they want. move through life with such ease in the water, not burdened by the weight of the world.”

As you continue to watch the fish, a sense of yearning wells up within you—a desire to shed the constraints of your human existence. "Sometimes," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper, "I wish I could trade places with that fish just so I could be able to live freely, to live without my own burdens."

Agust D nods in understanding, a silent reassurance amid your musings. "But you know, even fish have their own struggles. I mean, look at it, it’s trapped in this Chinese restaurant’s aquarium as entertainment for guests, fighting to survive in a place it doesn’t belong,”

Sigh.

He’s right. But you hate the fact that he’s right.

“That still doesn’t change what I said. Plus, I don't want to be that fish.” you interject, your voice laced with a hint of sadness. "Slowly destroyed by its surroundings… not belonging there."

Agust D's brow furrows in contemplation, his gaze returning to the small goldfish. "So what are you trying to say?"

"I don't want to feel like that," you admit. "Trapped in a world that doesn't feel like home, constantly struggling to find where I belong!"

And you hate it because that is exactly how you’ve been feeling right now. You’re living with a man several years older than you, who is probably the most dangerous man in Thailand, maybe even all of Asia. And you have no idea why you stuck here with him, but where could you really go? Where are you actually from? Where is home?

Agust D's expression hardens slightly, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "Life isn't always about feeling at home," he counters. "Sometimes it's about surviving where you are and making the best of it."

No! He doesn’t get it.

You feel a flicker of irritation at his words, your emotions bubbling just beneath the surface. "That's easy for you to say," you retort, tone sharp. "You're not the one who's been confined to that mansion, to these guarding duties, waiting for memories to come back."

His eyes narrow slightly, a spark of challenge igniting in them. "You think I don't have my own battles?" he snaps back. "I'm out there every day, dealing with threats you can't even imagine."

"At least you have control over these things. You have the entirety of this city wrapped around your finger," you snap, the words spilling out before you can stop them. "At least you know who you are and what you're fighting for!”

The tension between you two shifts. Agust D steps closer, his presence looming, but you refuse to back down, meeting his gaze with unwavering resolve.

Inside, you're a storm of emotions—anger, confusion, and a touch of desperation. How can he be so dense and unreadable, yet so annoyingly calm? It's like talking to a brick wall sometimes. Every word you say seems to bounce off him while his expression remaining infuriatingly stoic. You want to scream, to make him understand just how much this is tearing you apart, but he stands there, unmoved, as if your turmoil is nothing more than a slight breeze in his world.

“Agust, you–”

"Fuck…you're so hot when you're upset, doll," he murmurs, interrupting you with a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. Before you can react, he grabs your arm, pulling you toward the exit.

Huh?

"Hey!" you protest, your frustration mingling with a surge of adrenaline. But Agust D doesn't relent, his grip firm as he guides you out of the restaurant and into the elevator.

As the elevator doors slide shut, sealing you both inside the confined space, the tension between you reaches a boiling point. "What are you doing?" you demand, your voice a mix of anger and confusion.

Instead of answering, Agust D pushes you against the wall, his lips crashing down on yours with a fierce intensity. Your initial resistance melts away as the kiss deepens, the heat between you igniting into a blazing inferno powered by unknown frustrations beneath the surface.

You pull back just enough to catch your breath, your chest heaving as you glare at him. "You can't just—" you start, but he silences you with another kiss, his hands roaming possessively over your body.

"I can and I will," he murmurs against your lips, his voice a husky whisper. "Because right now, all I can think about is you."

Your frustration mingles with a heady mix of desire, the lines between anger and passion blurring as you give in to the moment. As the elevator ascends, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you.

When the elevator dings softly, signaling its arrival on your floor, you find yourselves in a private hallway in the hotel building, the opulent surroundings a stark contrast to the intensity of your kiss. Agust D pulls back, his eyes dark with desire and determination.

"We're not done talking," he says, his voice a low rumble that sends a thrill through you. "But right now, I need you."

Your eyes are left wide open, feeling hormones coursing through you.

This can’t be happening. Is this all a dream? Yes, this has to be. And what’s with the scenario? Are you that sexually frustrated? You admit you’ve never done this sort of thing and have only spent your free time reading erotica for entertainment.

But to dream about fucking the very man keeping you captive within his mansion and living as a bodyguard. There has got to be something wrong with you. Maybe you’re experiencing Stockholm syndrome? But you’ve not once felt emotionally attached to this man.

Though there have been times you’ve looked at him and thought about how beautiful he looked.

Shit.

Maybe you’ll go along with this. Everything else be damned, for now.

“Show me then,” You word out, which only fires him up more.

Agust D’s grip on your arm is firm but not painful as he leads you down the luxurious hallway to a penthouse suite, the plush carpet muffling your footsteps. Your thoughts are a chaotic jumble, torn between the logical part of your brain screaming at you to stop and the primal part urging you to give in.

As soon as the door to a suite clicks shut behind you, he’s on you again, pushed against a wall, his lips claiming yours with a hunger that leaves you breathless. You respond in kind, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. Every touch, every kiss feels electric, igniting a fire within you that you didn’t know existed.

In the back of your mind, you know this is wrong. You know you should be resisting, should be fighting against the pull he has on you. But right now, in this moment, all you can think about is the way his hands feel on your skin, the way his lips move against yours, the way his presence consumes you.

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his breath hot against your lips. “You’re mine,” he murmurs, showcasing his possessive nature. “I refuse to let you go.”

His hands start to inch up under your dress until he reaches your core and starts flicking at your clit. You gasp, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body. He watches your reaction with a smirk, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

“Is this what you wanted?” he whispers, his voice low and teasing. “To feel me, to know that you’re mine?”

You can barely form a coherent thought, let alone a response. All you can do is nod, your body arching toward his touch, craving more.

“Good,” he says, his fingers moving with a deft precision that has you teetering on the edge. “Because I’m not stopping until you know that you belong to me.”

He continues his ministrations, his touch driving you wild with need. The logical part of your brain has long since surrendered, leaving only the raw, primal desire that burns within you.

His fingers slide below your black lace underwear until he inserts them inside you with a sly grin. You can't help but moan at the invasion, your body trembling with anticipation. He moves them in and out, hitting just the right spot, causing you to writhe beneath him.

"This is what you get," he growls, his voice low and commanding. "For. every. time. you. talked. back. to. me. today." He growls, punctuating every word with a thrust inside your pussy.

“F-Fuck A-Agust!” And holy shit does it feel so good.

As lust starts to fog your mind and the air fills with moans, you don't know what's happening to you. But you don't care. The fire inside you is burning brighter by the second, and you can't get enough of the man who's taken control of your body and mind at this moment

Yoongi places his thumb on your nub and plays with it, squishing it in circular motions, then using his finger to rub it a little faster then slowing down only to fasten the pace again. You felt a very familiar feeling boiling up in your lower belly threatening to unleash itself.

“I’m not gonna let you reach your high yet.”

Suddenly, he removes all his fingers from you and you whimper immediately, the absence of his touch leaving you desperate for more.

Yoongi bites down against his lips, eyes quickly traveling from your face and down your body, “Huh…W-Wait..P-Please…” You pant heavily, trying to rub your thighs together to pick back up the pace that was headed toward your release

“I thought you wanted to leave me, doll?” He leans in closer, chuckling in your face, and you shake your head. At this moment, you realize that he’s hard under his dress pants. “Are you sure? I don’t give orgasms to people that won’t obey me.”

“I-I’ll prove it to you!” You drop to your knees quickly, placing your hands on both of his sides. “Oh? And how will you do that?” He gives you a curious look, already knowing what to expect from your sudden submissive behavior. While he spoke, you unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, pulling it down along with his boxers to reveal his cock.

“Oh fuck…” You let out in the smallest whisper. He wasn’t long per se, but more than average. But the girth… holy shit. Will it even fit in any of your holes? And the way his precum is already pearling on his tip just from what you two did earlier? You swallow nervously, but you’re not one to back away from a challenge. “Like this.”

You hold his cock gently from the base, proceeding to gather spit from your mouth and letting it drop on it. You proceed to move your hand, spreading his precum and your saliva on his dick, managing to get a good slide and starting to move your hand quicker. You looked up innocently, already noticing a flicker of Agust’s facade fade as he felt himself slipping away in pleasure. In his mind, he was tempted to say fuck it all and let himself fuck against your hand, but he knew better than just to let himself become an animal. After the prep, you part your mouth and slowly take him in, the stretch already starting to hurt your jaw from his wide size. In the meantime, you just suck around his head and use your hand to deliver pleasure to the rest of his shaft, earning deep-sounding curses and moans while your tongue swirled around him.

His eyes are glued to you, watching you work his cock with your kitten-like licks. Though, this isn’t enough for him. He wants to thrust up down your throat so bad and fuck you until your voice was sore. He wants to see how much you’re willing to take in that small mouth of yours.

And that’s exactly what he does. He places his hand on your head, giving you small pats and rubs disguised as encouragement for your efforts. Then his hand starts inching towards the back of your head until he suddenly grabs a handful of your hair and forcibly pushes his dick further until your smacked against his pelvis.

“Seems like you still need practice. Don’t worry, I’ll train you,” he murmurs, his grip tightening on your hair as he begins to thrust into your mouth. The tip hits the back of your throat and you gag reflexively, but he doesn't let up, pushing deeper with each thrust. Your eyes start to water, now holding onto his sides for dear life, but you force yourself to take it, willing your throat to open up and accommodate his girth. His palm comes up to your cheek to rub your cheek, feeling himself on the other side enter in and out of you.

He grunts with each deep thrust, his hips pistoning in and out of your mouth as you struggle to keep up with his rhythm. You feel like you're choking, but you don't want to disappoint him and prevent you from reaching your orgasm after. However, it doesn’t take long for him to come undone, swallowing saliva and cum down your throat. He removes himself and you begin to cough erratically. You have never deep-throated before, so it’s a miracle you didn’t throw up or die from this. It’s definitely not as easy as porn makes it seem. You’ve been lied to by the media! “Haah… Holy shit…” You groan, trying to catch your breath and stabilize your heart rate.

“You alright?” He questions, voice tinged with slight worry as he fixes his pants and underwear back up and leans down towards your face. “I lost myself for a bit…”

“It’s okay–” You pause, shocked for a moment to hear your voice sound hoarse. Despite that, Agust chuckles, using his palm once again to rub against your cheek to comfort you, smiling softly. “Good girl. Now you’ll get your reward.” With this, he guides you to the master bedroom, his grip on your arms firm yet careful, leading you through the opulent suite. The room is a testament to luxury, with rich, dark wood furniture that you knew Agust requested in the hotels he invests in and soft, ambient lighting that casts a warm glow over everything. The large windows offer a stunning view of the Bangkok city skyline, but your focus is solely on him.

He pushes you gently onto the king-sized bed, the plush mattress sinking beneath your weight. The silk sheets feel cool against your skin, starkly contrasting the heat building between you. Agust D stands over you, his eyes dark with desire, a predator savoring his prey.

He slowly removes his jacket, his movements deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. You watch, your breath hitching as he unbuttons his suit vest, followed by his shirt, revealing his semi-muscular and beefy figure beneath. You’ve never seen him like this before, as he’s a very reserved man when it comes to his body. But each inch of exposed skin sends a fresh wave of anticipation through you.

“You’ve been so good,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Now, let me take care of you.”

He climbs onto the bed, sitting between your legs where his hands start trailing up your thighs, pushing the hem of your dress higher. His touch is electrifying, each caress igniting a fire in your core. He leans down, his lips ghosting over your skin, leaving a trail of burning kisses from your collarbone to your ear.

His breath is hot against your ear as he whispers, “Tell me you want this.”

“I want this,” you breathe, your voice trembling with need.

“Good,” he says, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. “Because once I start, I won’t be able to get enough of you.”

His hands are everywhere, exploring, teasing, and driving you to the brink of madness. He slips the dress off your shoulders, letting it fall away completely, leaving your body exposed and vulnerable beneath him. His eyes rake over your body, a dark hunger in his gaze.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “My doll.”

He lowers himself, his mouth finding your breast, sucking and nibbling until you’re arching into him, your fingers tangled in his slick black hair. He trails kisses down your stomach, his hands gripping your hips as he positions himself between your legs.

You gasp as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, his breath hot against your skin. “Ready for your reward?” he asks, his voice a seductive whisper.

“Mm..” You only make a sound and nod due to the lust clouding your mind. How do you say words? Do words matter?

He pinches your clit slightly which makes you jump and arc your body a little.

“Words, doll.”

“Y-Yes!” you manage to finally speak out, your body wiggling around close to his face eager for him to move.

He doesn’t hesitate after your verbal consent, his tongue flicking out to taste you from your clit down to your entrance, drawing a cry of pleasure from your lips. He works you expertly, starting with his tongue sucking against your clit, then eating you out in your entrance.

And holy fuck does he have you wrapped around his finger with these ministrations. You had heard rumors of him being good at oral sex from the women at the events you would accompany him to, but fuck, the actual thing doesn’t compare to their mere descriptions.

His tongue soon returns to nibble and suck at your aching bud, with his fingers replacing his place inside you. And before you know it, you’re lost in the sensation again, body jerking as every nerve ending is set aflame as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

And Agust D knows it, smirking against your pussy as he feels you tighten against his fingers. “Come for me,” he growls against your skin, his voice a command that you can’t resist.

With a final, shuddering gasp, you fall apart, the pleasure crashing over you in waves. He holds you through it, his hands and mouth coaxing every last bit of ecstasy from your body until you’re left trembling and spent beneath him.

He pulls back, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he watches you recover. “Such a fucking good girl,” he murmurs, his voice filled with pride. “But we’re not done.”

He stands up and swiftly pulls down his pants and boxers, revealing his cock, red and eager. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight, your mind racing.

Oh? Is he going to put it in?!

“Huh? W-Wait you–”

Before you can finish speaking, he puts your legs on his shoulder and aligns himself to your entrance, his eyes locking with yours. The heat and intensity of his gaze make your heart race.

“You’re on birth control, correct?”

“Yes…”

You’d be surprised that he knows this fact, but he does look over your medical records after all. You’d also question the ethics of this, but not now.

“Then we can go all out,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire. “And I’ll show you that you’re truly mine.”

He pushes into you, his cock stretching and filling you completely.

“F-Fuck!” You gasp, the sensation is overwhelming, fueled with pleasure and pain that leaves you breathless. He pauses movements for a moment, allowing you to adjust, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

Your eyes close as you try to focus on relaxing your body.

“Look at me,” he commands suddenly, his voice low and firm as he holds your chin. “I want to see your face when I take you.”

“Y-Yes, sir!” You meet his gaze, your eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. There’s a primal hunger in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine.

He begins to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you try to keep up with the intensity of his pace. The feeling of him inside you is overwhelming and does not compare to his or your own fingers pleasuring you.

“Do you feel that?” he asks, his voice a rough whisper. “Do you feel how your pussy is being molded by my cock?”

“Y-Yes!” you manage to gasp, your voice trembling. “I feel it!”

“Good,” he says, his thrusts becoming faster, more intense. “Because you won’t ever be able to be pleased by another cock as long as I live,”

His movements are relentless, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. The room is filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, the slap of skin against skin, and the ragged gasps and moans that escape your lips.

As your eyes meet his, he suddenly wraps his hand around your neck, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. His grip is firm but not painful, sending a rush of adrenaline and arousal coursing through your veins.

“Doll, you like being choked while I fuck you? Having you wrapped around my fingers now.”

“F-Feels so mmh good!” You mumble, your breath hitching as his grip tightens slightly, the sensation heightening the pleasure coursing through your body.

You never thought you’d be so turned on by choking. You don’t know if it’s you getting high off the lack of oxygen and feeling pleasure, or giving up your life’s control to this man before you that has your toes curling.

The pleasure builds up to an unbearable peak once more, but this time, you know that he is feeling the same thing too. His thrusts become harder, more forceful, each one sending shockwaves through your body. His hand on your neck adds an edge to the sensation od dominance and possessiveness that leaves you breathless.

“Come for me, doll,” he growls, his voice a command that you can’t ignore. “I want to feel you come around me as I do at the same time.”

With a final, shuddering cry, your orgasm crashes down, your body convulsing in pleasure. He follows you soon after, his grip on your hips tightening as he spills into you, his own release mingling with yours. The intensity of the moment leaves you both breathless, clinging to each other as the aftershocks of pleasure ripple through your bodies.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark and satisfied as he looks down at you with a smile that exposes his gums. He lays down next to you and pulls you into his arms, his lips finding yours in a tender, possessive kiss.

“You’re mine,” he whispers against your lips, the words a promise and a declaration.

“You’re mine,” he repeats. “I’ll never let you leave.”

At that moment, as you lie there in his arms, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you don’t want him to. The world outside may be complicated and uncertain, but here, with him, everything feels right.

This is your home.

All you want is for this man to be infatuated with you for the rest of your life.

This is how things should be. Right?

–

– tbc?

✨ let me know ur thoughts! how are you feeling?! ✉️

#AGUSTDVERSE #Prequel #bts fic #bts imagines #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #yoongi smut #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #yoongi angst #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts reactions #bts reader insert #haegeum #agust d #THE WORLD IS BACK!

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dr3amlab · 5 months ago

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Sweet escape ⎯ jjk x reader

SUMMARY. The gala was boring, thankfully, Jungkook was there to save the night.

PAIRING. Jungkook, Y/N

GENRE. pure fluff, rich! jungkook, rich! reader.

WORD COUNT. too lazy

AUTHORS NOTE. hey y'all so I've never been to New York or a bodega so sorryyyyy if it's innacurate.

From the moment you arrived, the gala had felt stifling. The room brimmed with opulence: crystal chandeliers casting golden light, designer gowns glittering like jewels, and tuxedos tailored so sharply they could kill someone. The air was heavy with laughs too perfectly timed and fake smiles plastered constantly on faces, without a break.

This wasn’t simply a gala; it was a marketplace for power. Deals disguised as small talk, people showing off their wealth and champagne glasses clinking with agreements.

Even the champagne in your hand—a rare vintage you’d read about in Forbes—tasted sour on your tongue. You took another sip anyway, more out of habit than enjoyment, your gaze wandering across the room in search of something—anything—to make this night tolerable.

And then you saw him.

Jungkook.

He was leaning against one of the long, polished banquet tables, his posture casual. His tuxedo fit like it had been sculpted directly onto him. His dark eyes caught yours from across the room, his lips immediately curving into a grin at your sight that sent a jolt through your chest.

He raised an eyebrow at you, tilting his head slightly, a silent question.

“What?” you mouthed, trying to stifle a smile.

He didn’t answer, not immediately. Instead, he took a sip from his champagne, set the glass down, and crossed the room toward you with the kind of ease only someone born into this world of wealth could manage. When he reached your side, he leaned down, his voice low and intimate in your ear.

“We’re leaving,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You blinked, startled. “Leaving? What do you mean? We just got here.”

His grin widened, and for a moment, you were sure he was enjoying this far too much. “I mean, we’re ditching this entire circus. Right now. You in or not?”

You hesitated, the weight of expectation pressing on you like a stone. You glanced back at the room—at the glittering chandeliers, the clinking glasses, the meaningless conversations.

Then his hand brushed yours. Warm, steady, and just enough to convince you.

“Fine,” you said, setting your glass down on a passing tray. “But you’re explaining this if anyone asks," you touched his chest with your index fingers, "this is none of my business if we get caught."

“No one will notice,” he said, smirking. “Trust me. These people are too busy pretending they’re not bored out of their minds.”

Without another word, he took your hand and led you through the maze of elites. You moved quickly but without haste, the confidence of your exits as polished as your entrances. People glanced your way, but no one dared to question you; power has a way of silencing curiosity.

The back door clicked shut behind you, and the cool night air hit your skin like a breath of freedom. You stood in the private valet area, lit by soft amber lights that reflected off the sleek lines of luxury cars waiting in neat rows.

Jungkook pulled a key from his pocket, clicking it once. The low purr of an engine answered, and a black Aston Martin rolled forward, sleek and unapologetically expensive.

“You had them bring the car around?” you asked, incredulous.

“What do you think I was doing while you were over there pretending to enjoy your champagne?” he teased, opening the passenger door for you with a dramatic flourish. "Aren't you a villain? You planned this meticulously, didn't you ?" you teased.

You slipped into the seat, the soft leather cradling you like a second skin. He slid into the driver’s seat a moment later, the car’s controls lighting up under his hands as he adjusted the mirrors, tossed his jacket in the backseat and peeled out of the lot with effortless precision.

“Where are we even going?” you asked, kicking off your heels and tucking your feet beneath you. . The gown might have cost more than most people made in a month, but at this moment, you didn’t care if it wrinkled.

“You’ll see,” he said, the city lights reflecting in his eyes as he glanced over at you. “Trust me.��

“Trust you?” you repeated, laughing softly. “You just dragged me out of a $10,000-a-plate gala.”

“And yet,” he countered, his grin mischievous, “you didn’t even try to argue.”

The city blurred past as he navigated the streets with a confidence that felt second nature. Eventually, he pulled into a rooftop parking garage, the kind with a perfect, unobstructed view of the skyline. He killed the engine and stepped out, coming around to open your door.

“This is your big escape plan?” you teased as you stepped out into the crisp air.

“It’s better than pretending to like people I don’t,” he replied, gesturing toward the edge of the rooftop. “Come on.”

The view stole your breath. The city stretched endlessly, a sea of lights glimmering like stars. The faint chill of autumn lingered in the air, sharp and refreshing.

Jungkook leaned against the railing, looking more relaxed than you’d seen him all night. “Worth it?” he asked, his tone softer now.

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. “Worth it.”

He turned to you, his grin taking on that familiar mischievous edge. “So, how does it feel to ditch the gala for a view like this?”

“Liberating,” you admitted, glancing back at the skyline. “Though I’m sure the gossip blogs will have a field day tomorrow.”

“Let them talk,” he said, reaching for your hand. His grip was warm, grounding. “They’d find something to say even if we stayed. Fuck them.”

For the first time that evening, you laughed—a genuine laugh that echoed against the quiet night.

And as the city buzzed below, Jungkook smiled, his gaze lingering on you longer than it did the skyline.

But eventually, reality began to creep back in. You glanced at Jungkook, leaning against the railing with his hair tousled by the wind, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Alright,” you said, breaking the silence. “We’ve officially escaped. What now, genius?”

He tilted his head, considering you with an amused glint in his eyes. “You hungry?”

“Starving,” you admitted. The champagne had done nothing to fill you up, and you’d barely touched the microscopic hors d’oeuvres at the gala.

Jungkook straightened up, his grin turning mischievous again. “Perfect. I know a place.”

“Please tell me this place doesn’t involve a sommelier explaining the origin of the salt,” you said, giving him a pointed look.

“Nope,” he replied, popping the p. “I promise, no reservations required.”

The Aston Martin wound its way down the parking garage ramp. Neon lights and flashing billboards passed by in a blur, the car effortlessly weaving through the sparse late-night traffic.

When he finally slowed to a stop, you glanced out the window and blinked. “A… bodega?”

Sure enough, the glowing yellow awning of a corner bodega greeted you, its hand-painted letters advertising everything from sandwiches to lottery tickets. The fluorescent lights inside flickered slightly, casting a faint greenish hue over the tiny store.

“You’re kidding,” you said, turning to him in disbelief.

He was already grinning as he opened his door. “Come on.”

The bells above the door jingled as you stepped inside, and the sharp scent of deli meats and cleaning solution hit you immediately. The bodega was cramped, its aisles barely wide enough to fit two people side by side. Shelves overflowed with snacks and canned goods, all illuminated by flickering fluorescent lights that gave everything a faintly greenish hue.

And then there was the clerk behind the counter, scrolling on his phone without a care in the world—until he glanced up.

You and Jungkook were so out of place that his reaction was almost comical. Jungkook stood in his tailored tuxedo, the tie long gone and his collar undone. Meanwhile, you clutched your designer heels in one hand, your gown still sparkling like it belonged under a chandelier.

The clerk blinked, his expression shifting from confusion to resignation, as if deciding it wasn’t worth questioning how the two of you had ended up here.

Still holding your hand, Jungkook grabbed a basket from the entrance, swinging it casually as his grin lit up the store. “Alright,” he said, turning to you with a mock-serious tone. “What’s the plan? Sweet, salty, or chaotic?”

“Chaotic,” you replied immediately, scanning a nearby shelf stacked with chips. “If we’re committing to this escape-from-reality thing, we’re doing it right.”

He nodded solemnly. “I respect that.”

The two of you wandered down an aisle together, gravitating toward the snacks like moths to a flame. Jungkook grabbed a bag of spicy chips and tossed it into the basket without hesitation. “Essential,” he declared.

You held up a package of neon-green sour gummies. “How about these?”

He squinted at the package, pretending to deliberate. “Hmm… passable. But only if we balance it with chocolate.”

Rolling your eyes, you plucked a bar of dark chocolate from the shelf and added it to the growing pile. “There. Balance achieved.”

“Perfect.” He picked up a tiny jar of peanut butter, holding it aloft like a trophy. “This too. Trust me.”

“Peanut butter? Really?”

“Yes, peanut butter,” he said, his tone firm as he placed it in the basket. “You’ll thank me later.”

By the time you reached the drinks, the basket was overflowing with a kaleidoscope of snacks—chips, candies, crackers, and even an impulsive pick of pickles. Jungkook studied the rows of soda cans with the intensity of someone analyzing stock market trends.

“Too sweet,” he muttered, putting one back. “Too boring. Ooh, this one has a bunny on it.” He tossed it into the basket with a proud grin.

You laughed, grabbing a can of sparkling water. “And for me, something a little more… refined.”

“Refined?” he echoed, raising a brow. “You’re barefoot in a gown, in a bodega at midnight. I think ‘refined’ left the building about an hour ago.”

You bumped your shoulder against his, grinning. “Let me live.”

As you rounded the corner toward the baked goods, something under the glass display caught your eye: a slightly misshapen cinnamon roll, its icing glistening under the harsh lights. Your heart skipped a beat.

“That,” you said, pointing with conviction, “is mine.”

Jungkook followed your gaze and smirked. “You’re sure? It’s… seen better days.”

“It’s perfect,” you insisted, tapping the glass to signal the clerk.

The man behind the counter shuffled over, raising a single eyebrow at your ensemble but saying nothing as he carefully placed the cinnamon roll in a paper bag.

“Anything else?” he asked, his voice gruff but not unkind.

Jungkook leaned on the counter, his grin playful. “What’s the secret menu? You know, for the cool kids.”

The clerk snorted. “Coffee’s fresh. That’s about as fancy as we get.”

“We’ll take two,” Jungkook said smoothly, ignoring your protests as he handed over a few crisp bills. He grabbed the steaming cups a moment later, holding one out to you with a grin.

You found a small table in the corner of the bodega, the chairs mismatched and the surface slightly sticky, your knees were touching his and the basket of snacks spilled across the table.

“This,” you said, breaking the silence as you tore off another piece of your cinnamon roll, “is the best thing I’ve eaten all night.”

Jungkook smirked, leaning back in his chair and sipping his coffee. “Better than the miniature lobster tarts and gold-dusted macarons?”

“Way better,” you said with conviction. “Although I guess I didn’t eat much of those, did I?”

“Because you were too busy being miserable,” he teased lightly.

“Not anymore.” You met his gaze, your smile softening. “Thanks to you.”

Jungkook reached across the table suddenly, brushing a crumb from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. The gesture was casual, yet it sent a wave of warmth through you that was anything but.

He set down his cup, his expression shifting just slightly, the teasing fading into something quieter. “You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

The words hit you harder than they should have. You felt your breath catch, your heart doing that annoying fluttering thing it always seemed to do when he let his guard down.

“What?” he asked, his grin reappearing as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the edge of the table. “You look like you’re about to cry. Did the cinnamon roll disappoint you?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, it’s perfect. I’m just… I don’t know. Happy, I guess. Like, really happy.”

He didn’t reply right away, just tilted his head slightly, studying you like you were some sort of puzzle he was determined to solve.

The bells above the door jingled faintly every time someone entered, though the bodega was nearly empty at this hour. It made you feel as If your entire world had shrunk to this tiny corner store and it was kind of the case : As long as he was there, you always felt at peace.

Then Jungkook grinned, his expression turning mischievous again. “You realize this makes us official partners in crime, right? There’s no turning back now.”

“Obviously,” you replied, rolling your eyes, though your smile lingered. There was something absurdly perfect about the scene—the flickering lightbulb, the random bodega cat and the ridiculousness of sitting in a bodega dressed to the nines.

“You know,” he said finally, his voice lower now, more serious, “I really mean it Y/N. You're my partner in crime, my person.”

“For life?” you asked, your tone light but your chest tightening at the weight of his gaze.

“For life,” he confirmed, leaning closer.

Your breath hitched as the air between you seemed to shift, and everything faded into the background.

It was just him.

Just you.

And then he leans to kiss you.

Soft, at first, like he wasn’t entirely sure if you’d let him. His lips brushed yours gently, testing, waiting—and when you didn’t pull away, he deepened it, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw. The taste of coffee and cinnamon mingled between you.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours, both of you catching your breath. His grin appeared yet again, though his voice was soft when he spoke.

“Well,” he said, his thumb brushing your cheek, “guess there’s no going back now.”

“Was there ever?” you murmured, smiling against his lips as you leaned in for another kiss, this one bolder, like you were finally letting yourself want this as much as you had all along.

By the time you pulled away again, you were both laughing.

You grabbed the warm paper cup of coffee in your hands and it felt grounding, “partners in crime,” you said, lifting your coffee cup in a toast.

He clinked his cup against yours with a grin so warm it made your chest ache. “For life.”

“I hope you know,” Jungkook said, breaking the comfortable silence, “this means you’re stuck with me.”

You raised your brow. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because no one else would ever agree to ditch a gala and raid a bodega with me. It’s a very specific type of partnership.”

You laughed, tossing a gummy worm at him. He caught it mid-air, popping it into his mouth with a triumphant grin.

“And you think I’m the lucky one?” you teased.

“Obviously,” he replied, his voice light but his gaze warm.

When the two of you finally left the bodega, stepping hand in hand into the cool embrace of the city night, it felt like the world was brand new. The gala, the gowns, the chandeliers—they felt a lifetime away.

Because this moment, this freedom, this sweet escape was yours.

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jeongguk #jeon jeongguk #bts reader insert #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts x you #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook imagine #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook rich au #ceo au #jungkook ceo au

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wwilloww · 1 month ago

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sh. | chapter twenty five | ot7

PAIRING ot7 x reader RATING Explicit. 18+. GENRE smut. fluff. angst. nonidol au. wildnerness au. roommates au. friends to lovers. SUMMARY Six months of quarantine have kept you apart. Somehow the distance sparks something new in each of you: questions, unfinished conversations, threads once chased now left cold. So when your roommate invites you to come with him to a mysterious house in the mountains with your friends, how could you even think of saying no? WC 4.2k

WARNINGS AND TAGS none

AN hi, thank you to each of you who's been reading and leaving comments. each comment that comes thru is equivalent to two to three cups of caffeine when it comes to writing these chapters. essential, and so deeply appreciated! and thank you to @thatlongspringnight for her help with this one. love you all so much.

← || series m.list || →

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE: OUT THE WINDOW

“But what is it?” Jimin asks, his brow furrowing.

You think back to all of those times you shuffled off pointed questions from your friends with a joke, every moment you skirted conversations with a change of subject, every time you simply walked away. You think of Jungkook, with you in the kitchen all those weeks back, who had whispered in your ear, “Don’t run.” You think of how those words me your ears like ice, how they had frozen something inside of you.

For so long it has felt like you have existed in the void between two selves—maybe even more than two.

There is the careful portrait you allow everyone else to see; the self that appears polished and in control. Even the chill, cool-girl facade comes from a kind of careful grooming, a filtering of all of the filtering, messy, confusing bits of you.

And then there is the beast that lives inside you. The creature that croons the names of your seven friends, again and again, in your dreams and in the quiet moments of your waking life. This creature that wants and wants and goes on wanting. The creature that—if you give her what she truly wanted, would turn wild and rip through your carefully built life, destroying everything in her wake. You had worked so hard to build this shelter, this sanctuary of friendship and you believe, with your entire self, that giving this beast what she truly wants will shatter it all.

You wish things were simple and straightforward for you—like Yoongi or Jungkook, two men who chase what they want, who hold immeasurable depths but surface quickly and with honesty. You wish you could have waltzed into this life with ease, but that was never the case.

As you sit with Jimin in the bathtub, you picture the beast, laying in the center of a forest clearing of sorts. She sleeps, her chest slowly expanding and falling in a gentle rhythm. A flurry of snowflakes falls thickly around her, like static, keeping things quiet, keeping things still.

You wonder if you stand still long enough, if the snow will cover her entirely. If she will disappear beneath a blanket of snowdrift if you leave her undisturbed for long enough.

And you know that to answer Jimin’s question is to wake this beast.

So when he says, “But what is it?” with the floral aroma drifting up with the steam from the bath, you say, “I don’t know.”

And Jimin says nothing. He does that thing again, where he just holds your stare. There is no coldness in his gaze, in fact, there’s something soft, like sympathy or understanding lighting the back of his eyes. And there is firmness in that warmth. That is what terrifies you.

He waits.

And finally, after what feels like minutes, you whisper, “It feels like a monster.”

He tilts his head just a little. You have the eeriest sensation that he can see right through you, into the snowy clearing with the beast, where the flurries are falling even faster now. “Why is she there?” he says, finally.

“What?” your voice shakes.

“Why is she there?” he repeats, as if your question has expressed that you haven’t heard him, not that you don’t understand. “Where did this monster come from?”

The snow is falling faster. It’s harder and harder to see straight. The ache in your chest is beginning to burn.

“I—I—” How do you know why a beast is a beast? How do you know what makes a monster? How do you trace something sick back to its root? You want to dunk underneath the water—you want to drown out the pressing tone of his voice—but for a moment your stubbornness wins. You stare back at him.

His eyes are soft.

You know your eyes are cold.

“Do you want it?” Jimin asks quietly. “Do you want to keep running?”

It’s like he can feel your muscles tensing, ready to stand up out of the tub, drip your way angrily and resentfully across the tile and through the rest of the house until you’ve put a league of distance between you and this question.

And him.

But before you can, he reaches out to you and grasps your hand. You flinch when he makes contact. He wraps your hand in his.

The snow stops. The flurries freeze in mid-air. Your breath halts in your lungs. The beast in the clearing is stirring, stretching her sleeping limbs, a little sound escaping through sharp teeth.

And then—finally—you say something true: “No,” you say. “I don’t want to keep running.”

The words echo too loud through the bathroom, and the clearing, and the whole house.

The beast opens her eyes.

Your chest feels like it’s going to break open.

Jimin leans towards you, pulling you between his legs and into his arms. You are stiff against his movements, but he folds your bodies into one another, his legs and arms wrapping around you. His breath, slow and steady, brushes against your ear. You squeeze your eyes shut and wrap your arms around your chest. How can he breathe so easily when something is about to break inside your chest?

“What are you so afraid will happen if you let yourself feel?” Jimin whispers. The question takes up all the air left in the bathroom. It echoes around like a ghost, like something you’ve heard before. Like a voice spoken from the cold of the mountains just beyond the room that you sit in, a haunting from a far-off winter.

Instead of responding, you choke out a rattled breath.

He pulls back his face far enough to get a good look at you. It feels like he’s looking right into you, right through you. Like with that heavy gaze he sees every little bit of you. But he’s not turning away from you, or what he sees in you. He’s not running from you.

How come?

Your mouth gapes open and closed like a fish. You are looking for words. You are looking for air.

Jimin repeats the question, slowly, holding your gaze. “What are you so afraid will happen if you let yourself feel?”

Within you, the beast, stands. Stretches. She is ready.

But you aren’t.

You can’t—

You start to pull away from Jimin. You make to stand up from the tub, but Jimin holds you firm.

“Don’t,” he says, and your rebuttal rises within you. But he surprises you. “I’ll go,” he says. “You stay.”

You’re not sure if that’s disappointment flickering in his eye, but there’s also clarity there. He sees what you can’t—and that terrifies you.

Jimin leaves you silently. You remain in the tub. The bathroom suddenly seems gigantic.

You press yourself back against where the tub meets the wall, the chill of the tile a stark, cold contrast to the warm water, and wrap your arms around yourself. It’s not the same as Jimin wrapped around you, but it’s quiet. The scent of rose drifts up from the water, reminding you of summer, which has entirely disappeared from the air in the last weeks.

Maybe it’s too quiet.

Plink. A drop of water falls from the faucet, hitting the water.

You stare at your hands through the water. They are wrinkled and pruney, and shift lighter beneath the water. These hands which have brought you all this way. These hands that have held each of the men in the house.

It was a gift Jimin gave you, you realize. He gave you the choice to have space and silence without making you run away from him to access it. A hollow opens in your stomach as you look at the contents of the day. The sweetness of your moments with Jimin, juxtaposed with the seeping coldness that spills out from you now.

You see it clearly now.

Jimin’s absence—the too-large space remaining in the tub—the loud silence of the bathroom—the empty air—is a new kind of separation.

And your stomach begins to sink anew.

You find yourself standing up out of the bath. Towel-less and clumsily, you knock your shin against the tub as you clamber out. You drip water and rose-scented soap onto the bathroom floor.

“Jimin?” you call as you open the door. But the bedroom is empty and dark.

He has laid out a towel and set of clothes for you, both folded neatly on the bed. The bed has been made, the curtains opened. There is a new freshness to the room. But he’s not here.

You try to dress quickly, attempting to pull a t-shirt over your head. But you fail. The water has the fabric clinging clumsily to your skin.

When you leave the bedroom, you force yourself to walk: you fight the urge to run through the halls, calling Jimin’s name.

—----

He’s nowhere to be found. And when you can’t find him, and begin to think maybe he doesn’t want to be found—at least by you—you give up. Maybe too quickly.

You make your way back to the living room after combing through the house. The place feels mysteriously empty; you hadn’t run into a single friend or fuck-buddy in your wanderings.

Your chest still feels unsettled and restless, and you think of that one overused quote you see all over Pinterest and Instagram: The mountains are calling and I must go. You think, in that moment, that you understand anew what John-whatever-the-fuck meant in that long-ago letter: when everything inside you feels without a home, there is direction in the mountains. They simply cannot be ignored. As the sun sets over those broad peaks, the rivets and valleys of the great range before you call in a way that feels all too physical. It’s magnetism, this place, this land that calls your name.

And yet—

You have wet hair.

And you cannot help the sinking feeling that this place does not want you.

As much as this place has trapped you here.

Stuck between the conundrum of wet hair in the cold autumn wind and the burning sensation in your chest that cries for cool air, you compromise: you beeline for one of the large windows overlooking the firepit, and throw it open.

Hands gripping the sill, you lean out, testing your balance. Your wet hair is plastered to your scalp and face in, what you can only imagine, is an unsightly manner, and your t-shirt clings in odd damp spots to your warm skin. You’re sure you look like you’ve just been through half of a laundry cycle, but you don’t care.

The bathroom was too quiet. But here, the wind howls and howls until you can no longer hear the call of the beast.

You try to remember all the things you’ve learned along the way, you try to cobble together the pieces of what you know now.

Inside you, your chest swims with muddiness. A swirl of snow, leaves, detritus. It seems as if the beast has left you entirely. Everything you said to Jimin, that too, lies before you.

What have I done?

You cannot help but think of Jimin’s face, open and afraid, as he had told you about what he feared most all these months. The fear that he had shown to you—trusted you with—and that you had chosen to slam back in his face with the brutal clang of a great thing breaking. Something once carefully built up, now crashing down.

All those months ago, on the floor of your bedroom while you talked with Taehyung, you thought you had made a change. In that moment, you believed you had taken a critical turn on the long path of isolation that you had created for yourself. But as you look at the wreckage behind you—in the direction of Jimin’s room—you realize you had never really stopped running. At least, not in the way that you needed to. Not in the way that loving—op, living with—these men required you to.

You are surprised when a spot of rain slips down your cheek. You lift your finger to touch it, finding the trail from your eye to the drop—are you crying? As the tears slip silent down your face, you realize.

I am unhappy.

You squeeze your eyes shut.

You suck the alpine air into your lungs. In. Out. The burn of the cold is the antidote—chilling your mind, slowly, slowly, stilling the storm. Or, stuffing the beast back into sleep.

You jolt as a body wraps around your back, a head notching on your shoulder. Breath brushes your tender neck, and hands run down your bare arms.

“Christ, you’re freezing,” Yoongi says.

“It feels good,” you say, automatically. Your system shudders with shock as a memory from long ago rises to the surface. A balcony. Yoongi wrapped around you. A secret lingering on your tongue. A hidden relationship. How is it that so much time has passed—how is it that everything has changed—and yet you still feel just like you did that January night almost a year ago?

“Why are you always chasing the cold?” Yoongi asks.

“Why is everyone always asking me so many questions?” It comes out harsher than you meant. You cobble yourself together, and think this is a question you think you can answer. You soften your tone: “The cold lets me feel.”

Yoongi nods against your shoulder like he understands immediately. “I don’t have to ask any more questions,” he says, a note of disappointment in his tone.

You feel him begin to pull away from the one sided embrace, so you wrap your arms around his that snakes to your front and cradle it—and him—against you. You don’t want him to go. He tenses, as if surprised, then relaxes and wraps himself further around you. You still haven’t opened your eyes. You fear, if you do, everything will shatter. “I won’t ask what’s going on,” Yoongi says. “But can I assume—if it’s alright with you—that you’re less than okay right now?”

You find yourself nodding, praying that he hasn’t seen the quiet tears on your cheeks.

“That’s okay,” he says. “I’m here. I’ll stay here.”

You nod again. Yes. Yes, please stay. You feel like a hypocrite, subtly asking Jimin for space, and then falling into Yoongi’s arms. The difference is, Yoongi has seen you like this before: raw, open, yearning. You’ve never shown this side to Jimin before.

“I’m sorry,” you say, your voice thick. “I just don’t have words for it.”

“And that’s okay too.”

So, he just holds you, his arms wrapping even tighter around your belly, pulling you in closer to him. You find your head tilting back to rest on his shoulder. He places a chaste kiss in the hollow of your throat—and you know, suddenly, that he means the gesture as reassurance, he means it as a response to all the words that you cannot say.

At your front, the mountain howls.

At your back, Yoongi stands firm and steadfast, the heat of his body bringing yours back into balance. Your breath calms. The tears dry. You are breathing together. In. Out.

“Thank you,” you whisper to Yoongi, finally, finally opening your eyes to the night before you. But when you do, you’re surprised by what you see.

At the fire pit just beyond the house, two figures huddle around a blazing fire, figures darkened in contrast with the flickering red flame. After a moment, you realize it’s Hoseok and Taehyung. They’re talking, but you can’t hear them no matter how you strain. In a flash, you feel suddenly nervous. What could they be talking about?

—------

Tonight, with the brisk wind that rushes down the mountain side, it seems as if the stars are huddled closer to earth than ever before. Hoseok thinks they shine a little brighter tonight, like they are leaning in to hear what he has to say.

Taehyung and Hoseok sit close together on one of the benches that surrounds the fire pit. The rest of their friends—Jungkook, Namjoon, and Yoongi—had abandoned them a few minutes before for bed, refreshed drinks, or the more reliable warmth of the house. Silence had settled over the pair as they gazed out over the scenic view, the sun only just disappearing entirely from the sky. For Taehyung, it was a comfortable silence.

For Hoseok, his words mulled and churned as he searched for the right iteration, the right pattern. And then it had all come out like a flood, a bursted dam: a rushed question that only Taehyung could answer.

“I dunno dude.” Taehyung rubs the back of his neck in response. “I didn’t realize you were that down bad after—”

“It’s not bad, is it?” He answers the question for himself: “It’s bad. I know it’s bad. It looks bad, right?”

“Nah,” Taehyung chuckles and grips the arm of his friend squeezing him in reassurance. “Nah, it happens to the best of us.”

“It does?” Hoseok asks. Taehyung nods vigorously. But before he can respond, Hoseok continues: “You’re sure I’m not asking the wrong person about this?”

“I mean, to be totally honest, it is a little weird but—” Taehyung sighs. “I want you to be able to talk to me about these things. You’re my friend. It’s important for you to talk about them. Actually—it’s important for all of us.”

Hoseok nods solemnly, wringing his cold hands before speaking. “I just don’t know what to do,” he says. “I want to show her that I can be the kind of man that she wants.”

His friend gives him a long, appraising look and sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, I get it. I remember that—wanting the same thing—like it was yesterday. She deserves the world.”

“Do you…still feel that way?” Hoseok asks slowly.

“Are you asking, do I still feel the same way I felt when we were nineteen?” Hoseok nods. “Hell no.”

But Taehyung glances to the ground. Fiddles with his fingers. Hoseok tries to read whatever’s going on in his friend’s head—but before he can understand what Taehyung is thinking, his friend speaks abruptly: “You know, she’ll want space to grow. Smothering her is only going to make her freeze up. But man, I don’t think you have all that much to worry about. I see the way you look at each other.

Hoseok’s brow presses in confusion or interest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Taehyung chuckles and lightly slaps his friend on the shoulder. “My friend, you’re worried about something you have no need to worry about. You’re already five steps ahead in this game.”

“What game?”

“The game of loooove.” This, Taehyung says with a childish tone and a handsome smirk.

Hoseok looks shocked. “I—I didn’t—We didn’t—But—” He collects himself. “We agreed as a house that this is all only sex. Anyways, I said nothing about love.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Do you really think…?” Hoseok asks, his eyes wide with hope.

Taehyung shrugs, then picks up a stick to poke at the fire with. “I dunno. I can’t promise you the future—no one can. But I see something… I see things starting.”

Hoseok nods as if he understands the vague statements of his friend. When he stands to walk away, he walks with the particular stride of someone who finally sees the light through the end of a hedge maze.

—-------

You watch as Hoseok strides inside while Yoongi is still wrapped around your back, speaking softly in that deep lilt of his about his day.

While you hadn’t heard what the two men discussed, you did feel a strange sense of watching something you weren’t supposed to be seeing.

Yoongi’s warmth has brought you back to earth. When his breath brushes just-so against your neck, you find yourself shivering in his grasp.

“Are you finally getting cold?” he asks. You hear the smirk in his voice—and the tender care too.

“Maybe,” you say. “Yes,” you correct as a deeper chill settles within you. “Warm me up?” you ask softly.

He leads you back into the living room, where he wraps a blanket around you and settles with you on the large couch.

“Come here,” you insist. “I need your body heat. All of it.” Never quite the one to indulge in—or, better said, initiate—cuddling, Yoongi hesitates like he’s calculating where to fit his limbs. Then, he settles with a jolty, awkward collaboration of limbs into a spooning position with you tucked into him.

It’s there, wrapped up in his arms while he tells you about the song you’re working on, that you slowly start to drift towards a deep sleep.

—

As Hoseok strides back into the house, he wears a smug smile on his face. He’s a man on a mission, a guy with gusto, a dude with direction. He’s chosen his path—he’s walking it now.

As he swings open the back door to a dark hallway in one of the lower levels, he notices a figure, lingering against the wall. The hallway is dark. He can’t make out the figure’s face.

“Oh—hey,” he says anyways, making himself smaller to scootch right on past.

But the man steps into the center of the hallway, effectively blocking Hoseok’s path. “I was looking for you,” the figure says. “But I didn’t want to interrupt. It looked like whatever you were talking about seemed quite important. I haven’t seen Taehyung that serious in a minute.”

Hoseok shifts back and forth. “I guess you could say it was.” Then he shakes his head, as if to clear it. “But to be clear, I wasn’t making a move on Taehyung—nothing like that—I promise—”

The man steps closer, and Jin’s handsome face comes into the dim light of the singular bulb that burns outside.

“I wouldn’t mind it if you were.” Hoseok’s mouth flops open and then shuts again. Jin takes another step closer, tipping Hoseok’s chin shut. “Though maybe I’d like you to tell me if you were, first—just to know what’s going on between the people in my life. But why are you suddenly so nervous, Hoseok? Have you done something you’re not supposed to be doing?”

Hoseok flounders for an answer. “I—no, I mean, I don’t think so. I mean, maybe we aren’t supposed to be doing things like this or—” He shuts himself up. “No, no I don’t think there’s anything wrong.”

Jin tilts his head, scanning Hoseok’s flustered gaze.

“Then why do you seem so nervous?” He takes another step towards Hoseok and suddenly Hoseok’s back is up against the wall and Jin is impossibly towering over him. “Do I make you nervous, Hoseok?”

“You keep saying my name like that—”

“Like what?” Jin’s thumb traces Hoseok’s chin, then wanders upwards, tracing around the bottom of his lip. Hoseok swallows loudly. “Like I want you?”

“Do you want me?” Hoseok asks. “Really?”

“I do.” It’s such a simple phrase and it makes Hoseok’s mind go empty. Jin places a kiss right below the younger man’s ear, his plus lips warming the tenderness there. “And if you don’t want me—tell me to stop.”

Hoseok says nothing, but his hands come up to grip Jin’s shirt, implicitly pulling him closer.

“What about Taehyung?”

“What about him?”

“Won’t he be upset?”

Jin pulls himself up from where he had begun kissing down Hoseok’s throat, leveling his gaze. “Why? Do you plan to take me from him?”

“Not him—”

“Then tell me to stop or kiss me, goddamnit.” The decision is as simple as Hoseok tipping his chin towards his friend. And as Jin’s lips descend on Hoseok’s, the younger man nearly smiles.

—-

Yoongi watches carefully as you drift towards sleep. He chooses his words carefully, too, to be simple and mundane enough to soothe the storm he sees warring within you.

You mumble mmms and oh?s as he tells you about the way the music moves in his mind—how sometimes it is like water flooding him through and through—and how other times it is also like water, but only arrives in a trickle.

He knows you’re only catching a few of his words, but he likes how they fill the dark, large room. He sees more of himself in speaking it all aloud in this way.

When he tells you about his most recent song, you too feel the water in him lift up and sing. It is simple, passion. And you can do nothing but lift your lips to his and kiss him, softly, like finding your way in the dark.

He hesitates in surprise, and then leans in.

Your mouths move gently with one another like curiosity, or learning someone’s body anew, and you find your breath filling your entire chest. Your arms wrap around him. You find that in you, too, everything has turned to water. You find that you can give Yoongi this—messy, tender, uncertain. You find that you are giving him exactly what Jimin asked you for, and a door in your chest creaks open with a painful creak.

Light shines in through the crack.

When the kiss is done, which—as many kisses do—arrives softly and sweetly and with finality, you tuck your head into his shoulder. Together, you breathe without saying anything.

“I need to find Jimin,” you murmur as sleep comes over you.

“Soon,” Yoongi says.

As you cross that final barrier into sleep, Yoongi kisses the tear that slips across your cheek—the one you thought you could hide from him.

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yoongle--boongle--pie · 2 months ago

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Pechsträhne Masterlist

MOVED ACCOUNTS!

Find updated account @yoongleboonglepie

This masterlist will not be updated moving forward. Please refer to new account!

Love Y'all!

Genre: Horror au, paranormal au, hurt/comfort, slow burn, romance, psychic au, friends to lovers, Mystery, BTS ot7 x reader

Rating: 18+: Keep that in mind as this is at its core a paranormal/heavy theme rooted in history and myth, and some things are emotionally disturbing or spooky. Read at your own discretion as I will only be putting trigger warnings for things that can pose severe safety risks to those affected. All else, like I said it is a spooky and mystery au.

Y/n Wörner left the Wörner Hotel and Estate nearly 5 years ago in an attempt to run away from a family argument that put a firm divide between her and her parents. She was managing fine, for the most part -save for the constant existential crisis of what she should do with herself and her life. That was until an invitation for the 150th anniversary of their family hotel ended up shoved in her mailbox on Thursday morning, and for no rational reason she found herself running back; unable to stop the pull to return home to her family and friends who live on the grounds. Once she arrives, however, it becomes inarguably apparent that things are very wrong. The ghosts of her long past family who were once friendly, are now vengeful and violent. Her friends are divided by secrets, mystery, and fear- changed in tandem with the ghosts she used to love. She has to relearn how to balance who she knew her friends as children, and who they have become in the recent years as a result of the darkness that threatens to drown them in its wake. She knows that something is threatening her home and her friends, but she doesn't know what. And if there's one thing about Y/n Wörner, it's that she's not a quitter. No ghost or demon will stop her from getting the answers she needs- even if it means they have to try and kill her before she gets to them. Because what does she have to lose?

_________________________________________

Main story,

Chapter 1 - 2/16/2025

Chapter 2- 2/19/2025

Chapter 3- 2/22/2025

Chapter 4- 2/24/2025

Chapter 5- 3/1/2025

Chapter 6- 3/10/2025

Chapter 7- 3/15/2025

Chapter 8 - 3/20/2025

Chapter 9 - 3/28/25

Chapter 10 - 4/6/2025

_________________________________________

Pieces of Red String for you to Follow if you Dare...

Namjoon Character Moodboard

Seokjin Character Moodboard

Yoongi Character Moodboard

Hoseok Character Moodboard

Jimin Character Moodboard

Taehyung Character Moodboard

Jungkook Character Moodboard

Pinterest Boards

Historical Archives and Notes of Y/n Wörner

Photos of rough outline of the estate (not hotel)

Morse code clues, chapters 7 and up: x x x x

Find chapter playlists here:

Spotify

Youtube music

_________________________________________

Do not repost anywhere or steal my writing. Thx.

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peoniesnro · 11 days ago

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In Another Universe

#15. His Happy Ending...........

Synopsis – When you are just another iteration of Park Jimin’s girlfriend in a different universe.

Park Jimin × Reader

Genre – parallel universe / kind of fantasy/ strangers to ??/ SMUT/ maybe romance/ angst/ fluff /Infidelity

Warnings- Language/ Angst / INFIDELITY /SMUT- Making out/ Dirty Talk/ Sex toys/ Orgasms in public (when I say public I mean 'PUBLIC' (They are little freaks!)/ Edging/ Car sex/ Overstimulation/ Teasing/ Riding/ Desperate sex/ Jimin is kinda whiny!! /(Hope that's all)/

Word count- 27K (Well, at least I managed to end it there...)

a/n- So, this one took me so long to finish. I'm so sorry for the delay but I desperately hope that the wait was worth it. This is the longest chapter so far. Actually, I had more planned for this chap but I decided to break it up. Becuase of that, there'll be less drama in this one. But again this is another calm one before a storm!! Hope to bring the next chapter soon and thank you for keep staying. (I LOVE YOU ALL❤️)

Taglist?

Chapter Index

Previous - Next

Coffee?

Everyone has been afraid of something in their life. No exception for Park Jimin. He’s been scared of many things. He’s been scared to death, in fact. If he’s to recall, he’d talk about the day he met Mr. Kim. His girlfriend’s father. Not in a way a person would meet their partner’s parents, but as a formal business meeting. Jimin was a nervous, scared mess when he met the mighty Kim with nothing but a dream in his heart and a proposal in hand. And of course, there was the weight of his friends’ futures as well. That’s all he had.

Then he was scared to death the day they launched their first game. But when that phase was over Jimin had thought the scary part of his life was over as well. Only if life could be that fun, though. After many years, Jimin had felt so scared for the first time the day he had thought you had to go back. The day he finally caved into his burning desires. The day he begged you to stay. Even though he still doesn’t know the answer as to why, he endured a restless, torturous night. Yet that wasn’t a type of fear that would crawl under his skin and cling to his bones. He was scared, yes, but if you were not to return again, Jimin would’ve still lived.

But the fear he has felt when you fell down into his arms. Limp. Like a rag doll. His name barely audible on your lips.That was a kind of fear that made him shiver. Feel trapped. He had felt the way his heart beat slowed down. Had felt how it became hard to breathe. He wasn’t just scared to death. He feared for life itself. Yours and his. Because, for a fractured moment, Jimin imagined the coming days and years without you in them. And somehow he knew that, he wouldn’t be able to just live. No. Things have changed somewhere along the line. From that first day you woke up next to him and to the day he watched you turn into the color of pale snow, Jimin has forgotten about a world where you wouldn’t exist.

So, of course, he was scared. Scared in a way he couldn’t even describe. He was going mad. Especially, since he knew running into a hospital wouldn’t probably do any good. He knew what happened. That was the only reason for him to isolate you in a VIP backroom thanks to Yoona’s help. It has been hard. Countless lies and begging. But he succeeded. Just to see things worsen. He had only left you alone for a minute. To grab a wet towel because you were burning up. When he returned, however, he went into an empty room. You were nowhere in his sight. Nowhere. Just disappeared into thin air. And Jimin had gone feral. Like a wild animal. Could’ve ruined everything in his mad state where he started to look for you everywhere. Knowing very well that you must’ve gone back. Fortunately, there was Jungkook, who had arrived there late and was scared as much as Jimin, if not more, but still managed to keep things under control.

They’ve blurted blatant lies after a lie. Jimin had to physically restrain Liya’s mother from entering the room, claiming that her daughter didn’t want to see anyone. And in the end, he and Jungkook had won. Everybody had to leave the sick- as some of them thought- Kim Liya on her boyfriend’s hand. And to others it was you- Li- who they left with Jungkook. It caused more than one confusion and Jimin has been facing them ever since. Not that he answered any questions anyone raised, though. He successfully managed to sidestep all of them. Liya’s family, at least, had calmed down after they met Liya. And to Jimin’s great relief Liya had helped him- which was surprising- with a simple lie of saying she was dehydrated. Everything was solved.

Except it wasn’t. Not for Jimin. Because he was still petrified. Dying inside. That fear that engulfed him the moment you vanished never ceasing despite all the chaos that went through. He was scared about the next day. Or in fact he was scared of the days after that. The fear of not seeing you again was so powerful it had reduced him into a deranged state.

Hence, the reason for his unannounced visit to Jungkook’s place this morning. The reason for Jimin to pace in front of Jungkook’s main door until Jungkook had to threaten him with broken bones if he hadn’t stopped it. The reason why he is feeling like crying from the sudden relief as he finally notices the figure emerges through the staircase. As if he’s seeing the sun after a night full of horror. A night he didn’t know would end.

Jimin stops abruptly on his track. A heavy breath of relief escaping his lips as you stop in the landing. A moment passes. Moment of where you two just gape at each other. Your pretty eyes widen in surprise. Glinting. A small smile slowly stretching on your luscious lips. Breathtaking. It’s like Jimin is caught in a spell. Slightly painful. In a good way, though. The relief he’s feeling almost hurts him.

You break that spell first. Just as a shiver runs through his body.

“Jimin?” You mumble oh so softly. Unlike the last time he heard his name slip through your lips, this time it sounds real. No pain. And Jimin finally snaps out of his haze. All it takes for him is two long strides to reach you. Like a sudden storm. A breathless gasp escapes your mouth as he wraps his arms around your unsuspecting body. Pulling you into his chest. Arms tightly squeezing you. Molding you into his body.

Oh, God, how relieved Jimin feels. He would never be able to describe this sensation in words. Just as he is unable to describe the fear he felt. Doesn’t know what he would’ve done if this moment never came. It came, though. His worst nightmares didn’t come true. You’re here. Real. He can feel you against him. Can feel your soft breaths against his neck. Can feel your heartbeat against his chest. Can feel your hands soothingly rub his sides. Yet, a little bit of that fear is still there. He absolutely doesn’t want to let you go. Is afraid that you’ll disappear. Literally. What if you just vanish and never come back. So, he holds you even tighter. Tight enough that you whimper. Yet you don’t complain. Just keep rubbing his sides.

“I’m fine, Park.” Keep mumbling into his neck. “I promise, I’m fine.”

Jimin nods. Forcing himself to gather his shit up. Crying isn’t an option. Among many reasons why it would be embarrassing, the main reason is what suddenly interrupts his little moment of heaven.

“All right, that’s enough. Move-” Jimin winces at the sudden voice of his dear best friend. To his great dismay, you pull away from his embrace. Looking at Taehyung with even wider eyes. Apparently you haven’t noticed him earlier. “- why the fuck do you guys act like lost lovers kind of shit?” Taehyung grumbles as he makes his way toward you. Only to gasp when you are suddenly yanked away from a Jungkook. Jimin can only roll his eyes in annoyance as Jungkook takes his chance to hold you against his body. “Yah! You too? Seriously, guys? What the actual fuck is happening?”

No one answers him. You and Jungkook being too busy hugging each other while Jimin being busy not trying to act as a possessive prick.

“You okay, Noona?” Jungkook finally lets you go. You nod with a soft smile. Turn back to Jimin.

“What are you doing here?” Question innocently.

Jimin doesn’t answer your question. Instead just walks over to you. Grabs your shoulders, ignoring the looming presence of Jeon Jungkook. It’s unfortunate that Jimin can’t steal you away. To a place where no one else exists. Since it’s not happening, it seems like he’d have to do with just this. “Are you really fine, Lil? Wh-what? You just diss-” Jimin shuts his mouth immediately, remembering that his best friend is not a part of this loop.

“Disappeared?” Yet Taehyung butts in. “C’mon, you can say the word disappeared. Because that’s what happened.” He points a finger at a very confused you.

This has been Jimin’s life for a day. No matter what he or Jungkook had said, Taehyung apparently wasn’t believing him. Of course, he wasn’t. And Jimin believes that J must have been the same kind of pain in the ass for Jungkook as well.

“Okay, what are you doing here, Tae? You came to see me? You were worried?” You perk up disregarding Taehyung’s previous words. Good question. Jimin has been asking the same question from him all morning.

Why the hell does he have to follow Jimin around? Why the hell can't he just let it go?

“No- I mean, yes. Kind of. Not like these idiots were.” Taehyung seems baffled by your sudden question for a minute before he composes himself. Gestures between Jimin and Jungkook. Jungkook tries to protest in vain when Taehyung finally manages to take your full attention to all himself. “I mean should I be that worried? Were you fucking dying? It looked like you were dying.” He takes a step forward. Jimin drops his hands down just to bring it up and pinch the bridge of his nose.

Not again!

“You had a freaking heart attack and this idiot just-” Taehyung points at Jimin now.

“It wasn’t a heart attack.” Jimin mumbles wearily more to himself than to anyone else. He’s been saying the same thing over and over to Taehyung. Which apparently doesn’t reach his dumb brain. Just like now. Taehyung doesn’t give a single fuck about what Jimin says. Continues with his rant, instead.

“-took you to fucking rest. Like it was a stupid stomach ache. Who the fuck does that? And then, this other idiot-” This time it’s Jungkook who stands behind Taehyung’s finger. “Just barges in from somewhere and says it’s fine? Fine? What’s fucking fine?” Taehyung throws his hands in the air. Strongly resembling a child throwing a tantrum.

“I didn’t say it was fine. Like… ugh… what the fuck Tae… why the hell are you yelling?” Jungkook furrows his brows. Offended.

“Can you please let this shit go Taehyung?” Jimin sighs heavily. Wanting nothing but his friend to just let him talk to you in peace. To know what happened. But of course, that’s not going to happen.

“No..” Taehyung shakes his head. Eyes comically wide. “Absolutely not. I demand to know the freaking truth. She disappeared dude.” His finger is pointed back at you.

“She- what do you mean she disappeared?” Jungkook asks with a straight face. Much to Taehyung’s annoyance. His face falls. Gives Jungkook a disappointed glance.

“Really? You’re still refusing? Still lying?” Raises his brow.

“We’re not- Taehyung, are you hearing yourself? How can she just disappear?” Jimin really doesn’t wish to lie to his best friend. But this is not a situation where he can just say the truth either. Not that Taehyung would believe him anyway.

“Yes, I am. And that’s what happened. She went inside the room and never came back? What did you do with her? Don’t tell me she jumped off a window or something?”

“I took her home later, I already told you.” Jungkook rubs his face frustratingly.

“No, you didn’t. Stop lying Jeon. I was fucking there. And her mother didn’t recognize her. What do you have to say about-”

“Enough.” Your sudden loud voice makes all three of them jump on their feet. Jimin snaps his head toward you at the same time Taehyung closes his mouth shut. Swallowing down his words. You exhale loudly. Despite your sparkling eyes, Jimin can see how tired you are. Your shoulders slump. Something definitely happened. And all he wants is to know that. To make sure you’re fine. Well rested. His stupid friend doesn’t know when to give up, though. Jimin nearly turns around to grab Taehyung from his shirt and drag him away when you step toward the said man. “You want to know the truth? Here’s the truth-” You fold your arms across your chest. Jimin unconsciously scowls at your words. Wondering. Worrying. But also curious. “I am from a different world and every time I sleep I shift between two worlds. In fact I’m Kim Liya’s alternate version-”

“Woah, Noona.” Before Jimin can process and say something else, Jungkook does. Eyes wide and mouth open. You, however, just hold your hand up. Just carry on with your explanation. “She and I can’t share the same space. So, anytime when anyone mistakes me to be Liya it puts me in pain. That’s what happened. There you go. That’s the truth you wanted. Happy?” Ask in the end. Taehyung just blinks at your face for a second.

“I- I- you- I mean- I- you, what?” Then starts stuttering as if his tongue just got fifty knots. Scowls so deeply. Looks offended. Like he just realized he’s been pranked. “Are you kidding me? Li? Do you think this is a fucking joke?” Finally composes himself. Jimin watches the way Taehyung’s expression morphed into a one of hurt. Yet before he can say anything you shrug.

“So, you don’t believe me? I knew you wouldn’t. That’s why they haven’t told you anything. Because you wouldn’t have believed it anyway.” With that you finally pay your full mind to Jimin. Ignoring still very stunned Taehyung and a very impressed Jungkook. Even a small smile appears on Jungkook’s face. Well, what can Jimin say? That was a smart move after all. You’ve shut Taehyung up for good. And with the truth. It’s no one's fault that Taehyung isn’t believing it.

“You okay?” You ask from Jimin instead. Funny. He should be the one asking that question. He scans your eyes for answers. Heart painfully clenching. The fact you are here, dawning upon him again. The fact that this would have not been his reality dawning upon him. How worse it could’ve gone.

Why was he so scared anyway?

Why is he still so scared?

Why does he feel like he’s hanging by a loose thread? Like the thread is about to snap. Like it’s about to end.

Why is he so afraid of losing you? What has changed? What’s causing this strange pain inside him?

“Jimin.” You step forward when he doesn’t answer you. Your eyes roaming over his features. Jimin feels your warmth as you step closer and closer. Stopping right before him. Waiting patiently till he answers. He doesn’t know how to. He most definitely is not okay. But why? You’re here. And all he wants is to hold you. Hold you close. Never allowing you to go. He just doesn’t want you to go. Anywhere.

Oh, fuck!

This is not normal. He feels like he’s about to burst. From a feeling he can’t quite decipher.

You look so vulnerable. Tired. There’s this insane urge inside him to protect you. But then what if he couldn’t? What if he failed? He has failed you just more than once already. What if he does that again? How could he forgive himself if that is the case? Then again, why can’t he forgive him? What’s so special? What are you doing to him?

A small shudder ripples through his body. Jimin forces himself to swallow the knot that is forming in his throat. Wanting to know what’s really happening. Yet as he opens his dry mouth all he manages is to repeat the same old shit. “You disappeared?” He mutters the obvious, stupidly. Closes his eyes. Reopens them. “Wh-what happened baby? You- uh I mean, did you just go back? Like how normally it happens?” Asks at last. And all you do is just gape at his face. A minute passes. Then two. Three. After what feels like an eternity you sigh heavily. Then shake your head slowly.

“I- don’t kn-know… I don’t remember. I mean, just a voice… that’s all I can recall.”

Now it’s Jimin’s turn to just gape at your face. Not knowing whether this is good or bad. Jungkook is the one who pushes forward first. Grabbing your shoulder and turning you to face him.

“What voice? What do you mean? What did it say?” Showers you with a trail of questions, which Jimin thinks fair. Another sigh escapes your pretty lips. A moment of hesitation passes before you shrug.

“That this is the beginning of the end.” A laugh which is very dry leaves your throat. A failed attempt to ease the tension. “That doesn’t make any sense, you know.” Add. Nobody joins you in laughing. Doesn’t agree with you. Hell, not even Taehyung does so.

And the loose thread Jimin is hanging onto snaps. Making him drop into a pit with such a force that he feels like all his bones get cracked. Crushed. Pain shoots across his body. Starting from the chest.

No.

No. That can’t be right. Surely, he didn’t hear you correctly.

Beginning of what now?

How’s it already the end if he hasn’t even started it yet. What are you even talking about? What end?

What does that even mean?

Well, he knows what that means. Oh, yes he knows. He’s been scared for a reason after all. He might not know a reason why but as you slowly turn around to face his frozen figure again. With your eyes dull and mirroring the same fear Jimin is feeling despite the smile on your lips, he doesn’t care for a reason anymore. Just because one thing is certain. He just doesn’t want to lose you. And he will not let that happen either.

No one is going to steal you.

Not when he just had you. Not even after ten years together. No.

You are his. Jimin tries to respond to you with something. Fails. Not because of his incapability, but because your fake smile suddenly drops and you clutch your stomach tightly. Face twisting with pain.

“Oh fuck!” You curse loudly before storming inside Jungkook’s apartment.

…………………………

You wearily watch Jimin pacing around Jungkook’s living room. He is driving you mad with all that pointless energy wasting but you find yourself incapable of stopping him. There are much more pressing matters at hand. Because of course there are. And partially, you understand him. To say the least, Jimin looks simply terrified. Maybe even more than that. You’ve watched him grow pale as you state what you remembered.Then you’ve watched him turn into an overprotective father the moment he found out you were sick. You don’t even consider yourself sick—it’s just an upset stomach. You’ve been throwing up intermittently for the past day and Key has already dragged you to see a doctor. And he assured you the symptoms will disappear within the course of a few days. Jimin doesn’t buy that, however. He’s worrying too much. That leaves you with the question why?

See now, you think you have all the reasons in the world to be scared to death. This is your life after all. Turning into dust apparently isn’t a good thing to look forward to. So of course, you’re scared. You have been ever since you opened your eyes in your bed. Drenched in sweat. Feeling nauseous. Then besides the fear of turning into dust, there’s the fear of everything ending. That fear has never left you to be honest. Since the very day you met that grandpa-kid, you’ve been scared. Scared of losing everything. It’s only that you’ve left that inevitable problem to the future you. This is that future. That problem has come to confront you face to face. And you have no place to run or hide anymore. But above everything, with you knowing undoubtedly that you like Park Jimin, that fear is gripping you like a vice crushing bones.

When this ends- if this ends- you’ll lose him.

When this ends- if this ends- you’ll never see him again.

Park Jimin will be just a memory.

And you feel your throat constrict at the thought. Eyes involuntarily starting to sting. You avert your gaze away from Jimin to collect yourself. This isn’t a time to be emotional. Swallowing down the knot in your throat you turn back to the man who’s still pacing around like a headless chicken.

He’s so worried. Looks like he is about to slam his head into a wall. You’ve never seen him that worried.

But why? What’s his reason to be scared this much?

True, he was worried the first time you thought this would end. True, he was the one who asked you to stay. True, he is still seeking you around. But to be that worried? It can’t be simply because he cares for you. Can it now? Can-

“Will you fucking stop walking around? I’m gonna throw up too! You are making her feel worse” Jungkook’s voice breaks your gloomy trail of thoughts. You snap your head to find him emerging through the kitchen with four coffees in his hand. Jimin stops his pacing as well. Scowling at Jungkook.

“Then go ahead and throw up.” Says before he starts it again.

“For fucks sake!” Jungkook grumbles. Yet ignore Jimin as he hands over a warm cup of coffee to you. You accept it gratefully. There’s only a few things you can stomach these days. Coffee is one of them, fortunately. He places the rest of the cups on the coffee table before sitting next to you on the couch. “He needs to save his energy to think. Not walk around. Ugh- fuck I’m getting a hedeache.”

You snort softly at the way Jungkook grabs his head with both hands. Dramatic. But also he states a fact. Jimin needs to stop.

“That’s not going to help Park. Can you please sit down?” You sigh as you place your sweet cup of coffee aside. Jimin halts for a second. Then eye you as if you’re stating something funny. Yet to your surprise he drops into an armchair after a heavy sigh. A moment of silence passes.

“So..” Then he starts.

“So?” You question.

“So, are we gonna sit here and drink coffee like nothing happened?” Jimin snaps suddenly. His eyes avert to Jungkook from you. “I thought you cared about her?”

“I fucking do.” Jungkook gasps loudly. Offended.

“Oh, yeah? Then what? The best you can do is make her coffee?”

“I at least did that. What were you doing?”

Jimin opens his mouth to counter. His brows pulled together. Almost stand up again when you groan. “Neither of you are helping.” You drag a palm across your face, frustratedly. They both try to say something at the same time which you stop yet again. “Besides there’s nothing to be so panicked about. I’m pretty fine.” A lie. You’re not okay. But you want Jimin to calm down. Want Jungkook to stop worrying. “That happened because people thought I was Liya. As long as that won’t happen again, I’m sure I’ll be oka-”

“Okay? Are you kidding me Lil? You’re not fucking okay. You freaking disappeared.”

“Exactly! And how can you be sure that it won’t happen again?”

You blink at Jimin’s face for half a second before doing the same at Jungkook’s. Weren’t they so opposed to each other a minute ago? Now they are on the same side?

“What about the voice you heard?” Jimin states again. Followed by Jungkook’s sharp voice.

“You gonna stay hidden or something, Noona? It is going to happen.”

“It is. And what the fuck am I going to do if you just disappeared and never returned?”

Jimin practically yells through his lungs. And your heart skips a beat. No. No, that’s not the right term. That’s not a skip. Your heart stops. Entirely. Just as how your lungs stop working as well. Just as how everything falls into a deep silence. Leaving you to gape at his face with round eyes.

What?

Why would he have to say it like that? With that quivering tone. With that damned look in his eyes. As if you’re all he has.

You keep staring into his eyes. He does the same. Just staring into yours. Completely speechless. That knot in your throat is starting to reform. A pain that is not physical, growing in your chest. You already like him. A lot. But when he’s looking at you that way. His eyes are glossy. Like he wants to hide you away, it makes you realize that maybe it’s not that you just like him. Maybe you’re too deep in this mess. Yes. You are. You are no longer just falling. You’ve already fallen. You just don’t like Park Jimin, but you love him. Of course you do. And you don’t want to leave him. It doesn’t matter how he might feel. Even if he doesn’t feel the same and looks at you that way for no reason, you don’t want to leave him.

Because you love him.

You are in love.

You inhale a shaky breath. Still staring into his glossy eyes. Not finding a way to break the sudden charm. You don’t even realize that everyone has gone uncomfortably quiet. It’s like nothing exists at this moment. Just you and him. Until a sudden cough- which suspiciously sounds like a scoff- erupts next to you finally breaks the spell. Making you turn your head toward the person who made the sound. Jungkook stands up from the couch just as your eyes land on him.

“I need another coffee.” He mumbles softly, picking up his obviously still full cup of coffee. Yet before completely turning away and leaving he looks at you. Face completely void of any emotions. “That voice probably belongs to someone who pays you those visits sometimes, you know. Like that Halmeoni or that kid. Maybe we should try and find them.” Says aloud this time. As if nothing just happened. As if Jimin hasn’t just said he can’t live without you. Well, there’s a possibility that what Jimin said wasn’t that. Nobody except you must have seen anything in his eyes. You clear your throat awkwardly. Trying to shake off the tingling sensation you’re feeling. Trying to act as if your stomach isn’t full of butterflies.

“Yes. Yes. That’s it.” Luckily for you, Jimin shouts as he jumps into his feet. Almost startling you a bit. Both you and Jungkook pay your attention to the man who suddenly appears as a kid who found their lost ball. “Why didn’t we think about that earlier?” Questions. Those damn eyes of his turning into crescents. To see that makes you strangely calm. You look at him with wide eyes. Then slowly turn your gaze to equally excited Jungkook. Uncertain about what they are talking about.

“Wh- what do you mean?” You question from no one specifically. Jungkook is the one who answers, however.

“Well, they- whoever these people are, they know what’s exactly going on and you can ask them. Like haven’t they told you that you have a year? It doesn’t make sense that you’re suddenly in pain when you have a whole year to go. You- we have to ask and find what’s gone wrong and find a way to stop it from happening again.”

“We know what went wrong. People mistook me for Liya. That’s what happened.” You point out the obvious.

“Yes but there should be a way to stop that from happening again.” Jungkook shrugs. Making his argument firm.

“But ho-” You start to raise questions but are silenced by a Jimin who suddenly kneels in front of you.

“We can find a way Lil.” Mutters gleefully. Grinning from ear to ear. And you know he is not talking about preventing another incident. He’s talking about what you wanted as well. A way to stay here. A way to be greedy. There comes that feeling again. Your stomach is fluttering and heart skipping beats. He wants you here. Just like he wanted you here all those months ago.

You know it’s not that easy. That it won’t be easy. Even if it works. If you find a way to stay here, what would that hold for your future. Will you keep shifting between two worlds forever? Or will you have to make an ultimate choice and choose a one world? Then what? What about your world? What about the life you’ve built? Will you give up on everything? True, that you always wanted this life but now when you think about it, it doesn’t seem easy. Yet the man before you, kneeling. Peeking at your face with such an excited look in his face, makes you forget the rest of the universe. Or every universe. For now, you just want to agree with him. Want to believe that there's a way that everything would be solved with everyone being happy. A happy ending.

Your happy ending.

You nod softly. “Yeah? I mean yes. Uh- but how?” You chew inside your cheeks to keep yourself focused. Not to let your mind go astray.

You want to find a way. No matter what. You just want this life. This life with Jimin in it. So, you have to focus.

“Do you remember anything they might’ve said that can help to find them?” Jimin asks again. That excitement never leaving him. You purse your lips thinking. Eyes briefly wandering to Jungkook since he was there with you the first time when the old lady visited you. There’s a chance that he might remember something you don’t. You find him already staring at you, gnawing on his bottom lip. For a minute you think he looks hurt. But then he turns his gaze away. Suddenly finding interest in one of the pictures on his wall. So, you go back into torturing your brain for something you’ve missed. Only to come up with nothing. Empty.

“I don’t think so.” You shake your head in defeat. “Kookie?” Look at Jungkook expectantly. Just to be disappointed when he shakes his head as well.

“I don’t think she mentioned anything else besides warning the shit out of you. And threatening to wipe away my memory.”

Jimin exhales loudly. Gets back into his feet. “There must be a way though. If they can find you, that means they are around here somewhere.” Mutters more to himself.

“Well it’s not like they are both from this world. I mean I met Halmeoni in this world but that kid was from my world. It’s like finding a needle in a haystack. How are we ever going to find someone who just appears and disappears whenever they like?” You bring out a fair point.

“Yes but what if you’ve met more than those two?” Jungkook perks up again. Raises one of his brows. You just gape at his face confusedly. Jimin questions him on your behalf.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, there’s a possibility that there are more people like them. It sure can’t be just two. What if Noona has met them without realizing they’re like this- uh- same mysterious creatures?” Jungkook explains with a little edge. You know he’s not certain for himself. Yet that seems like a good point. “Maybe you’ve met someone who you know how to find again and also someone like that Halmeoni.” He adds. “Think about someone who has talked to you like they know something…maybe. Or someone that makes you feel that sensation you know, the one you get when something strange happens.” Tries to make sense. And you get him. Only that nothing comes to your mind. You fumble for an answer. Trying to think hard for an occasion where something like that happened. But before you can even start to process. Jimin lets out a soft noise.

“That old woman!” Then he exclaims loudly. Eyes wide and looking at you with a knowing look. Clearly expecting you to know what he’s talking about. You don’t. You have no single cue.

“Wh-what woman?” So, you furrow your brows.

“Ice cream cart?” Jimin tries again. “Namiseom Island?” And it hits you. You know exactly what he is talking about. “I don’t know Lil, I felt damn strange. Like-”

“Like she knew something she shouldn’t.” You complete his sentence excitedly. Jump into your feet. You sure did feel strange. Especially when she talked about how short life can be. You have decided she’s been talking about life in general. Because, in a way, a human lifespan can be considered to be short. Or long. People will always think about the odds of dying tomorrow. Until this moment, you have thought that’s what she had meant. But what if she hadn’t?

“Who’s this woman in talk?” Jungkook butts in. Confused. Just to get ignored when Jimin hurriedly turns around toward the front door.

“We’re going now.” He states as he walks. You try to protest. In disbelief that he wants to go search for that old lady right at the moment. Before you can do it though, Jungkook starts following him.

“Well, I’m not just sitting back here.” Even walks past Jimin and already grabs his jacket from the coat rack. You roll your eyes in annoyance. They can be quite dramatic when they want. Almost follow them outside when you suddenly remember the fourth person in the room. Who has been awfully quiet the whole time. You turn around to find Taehyung sitting cross legged on the mattress on the floor. Your makeshift bed. His mouth is open and brows pulled together. Bewildered, to say the least. Giving you all a ‘what the hell look’. Poor guy.

“You coming too Tae?” Yet you ask anyway. A beat passes where Jimin and Jungkook turn to Taehyung as well. Then Taehyung just shakes his head. Slowly.

“Which doctor should I consult? It can’t be that all three of you are losing your minds. I’m pretty sure I’m the one who’s crazy.” Declares in the end.

…………………………

Empty.

The entire street is empty.

Strangely, no one is walking down the beautiful lanes beneath the ginkgo trees today. Even when the weather is nice and bright. But that’s not what your concern is. Who cares if everyone in South Korea has decided to never visit Namiseom island again. No. You wouldn’t have cared even if half the population on earth has vanished. Your only concern is that where the ice cream cart once stood, there's now nothing. Empty. Not even a trace.

But it was here the last time you visited.

It was. You are certain. Now it is not. It’s a good thing that Jimin was there to bear witness. Otherwise you would have appeared crazy.

“Fuck!” Jimin curses slowly as he steps forward, breaking the perfect line you'd formed with Jungkook and Taehyung. The latter has joined you in the journey to Namiseom Island despite his lack of faith in all of you. And now while Jungkook is sporting an expression of disappointment and again worry, Taehyung looks like he’s about to have a nervous breakdown. Well, it’s too bad but you have other problems to deal with. So, you follow Jimin close by.

“Maybe, we came to the wrong place. Maybe it wasn’t here. We should take a look around.” You know it was exactly right here. There’s no way you would mistake it. Yet you suggest for the sake of it. As desperate as you are, Jimin doesn’t even waste a millisecond before he is nodding violently.

“Yeah. Yes. We should.” There’s that crazy look in his eyes again. Worried. Hurt. Scared. Makes you want to hold him tight. But he is already walking away. Leaving you with no option but to go after him. That’s how you find yourself walking around Namiseom Island like a bunch of fools. To end up finding nothing. Just like you expected.

And all you feel is despair. A tightness coils in your chest as you sit on a bench. Wedged between Jimin and Jungkook. Staring into nothing. You feel nauseous again.

“At least that proves, she was exactly the one we should meet.” Jungkook mopes. Jimin lets out a bitter laugh at that. You think it’s ridiculous. Considering how excited and happy you were when this idea popped up in Jungkook’s head at first. Now you all look like deflated balloons. Except for Taehyung, of course.

“Or… she just moved her ice cream cart away. That's the whole freaking purpose of having a vendor cart. You move that shit from place to place.” Taehyung retorts. Standing in front of the bench you are sitting. Covering all of you in his shadow. He looks comical now trying to prove his very valid point.

“She was too old to do that.” Jimin mumbles wearily.

“So what? It’s not like she doesn’t have a family or something. Someone might have helped her. And you guys-” He stops abruptly. Then sighs. “You know what? If this is a prank, it’s awesome. You got me.” Laughs very awkwardly. ��Now you can stop.” His tone almost turns into a pleading.

You feel a headache forming. This is absolutely absurd. Taehyung can be very much correct. Despite all the unbelievable things happening in your life, this old woman can be just another innocent human being. You can’t even believe you’ve driven all the way up here just because of a wild suspicion. It’s not too late to turn it back, however. You should just get the hell out of here.

“I need to find her.” Jimin blurts suddenly. Making every head snap into his directions.

“Huh?” Taehyung furrows his brows so deep that it looks like it’s going to be carved into his forehead.

“I need to find that old woman no matter what.” Jimin clarifies this time. No one says anything. You mirror Taehyung’s expression now. Confused. “I don’t care how Tae, just.. Can you ask Mr. Dong? Can’t ask Emi. She will rat me out to Liya and you know the rest of the story.” Jimin continues at the silence of the rest. Mr. Dong is Taehyung’s secretary. You’ve met him during your time at the R.U.N. A good man.

“Holy fuck, dude!” Taehyung exclaims with an exaggerated drop of his shoulders. “Tell me you’re joking.” Rubs his face.

“No. I’m not.” To much of his dismay, Jimin states firmly. Gets to his feet. “I just want to find the woman Taehyung-ah. Just help me will you?” Grabs Taehyung’s shoulder. “Please.” Adds.

“You want me to make my secretary work his ass off to find an old woman who we don’t know shit about?”

“Yes. And pay all he wants.”

“Gosh, this is damn ridiculous. I-I-”

“Please. C’mon, I’ve done far worse shit for you.”

A silence falls over. You and Jungkook are watching the two friends who are gaping at each other. To be honest, you think Jimin is being ridiculous as well. That’s just too much. Yet just as you are about to point that out. Taehyung gives up with a heavy sigh.

“Fine. To hell with it.” Then he eyes you. “This shit better be worth it Li.” Says.

…………………

At first, you tried to convince Jimin that he shouldn’t go to that length to find an old woman. There was a possibility that all his effort would come to nothing. But Jimin was Jimin. He didn’t listen. He didn’t give a fuck, to say the least. Then as you finally agreed with him, you slowly started to wait for the news. For anything. Something. You would text him every morning as the first thing as soon as you woke up in his world. And every day you received a negative response. Which passed on to Jungkook when you went home.

The days slowly passed by. One by one. For everyone’s - or at least Jimin and Jungkook’s- pleasure, you didn’t have any awful- as they call- heart attacks. You were doing fine. Day by day, you’ve recovered from having to endure such pain. You suspect the upset stomach you got was mainly due to that than anything bad you ate. Yet with the days, you became normal again. Living your best possible life in two different worlds. The day at the gallery and the incident is slowly starting to fade into the memory. Life is slowly settling back onto a normal track where you are simply struggling with unemployment.

Just like now. “You can come back to the company, baby.” Jimin whispers into your neck. You’re alone in Kim’s kitchen. It has become such a normal thing for your friends to take advantage of Namjoon’s restaurant. It doesn’t matter how much he would complain. As for now, you are in charge of making Anju for the night. Nobody assigned you. You have volunteered. And just a few minutes after you entered the kitchen, there was Jimin. Right behind you.

You don’t get to see or meet Jimin at all these days. Just a few sneaky meetups are all you get. You find it insane how you miss him every day. How you long for him. You would never tell anyone but you’re always looking forward to Taehyung or Hoseok to just barge into Kim’s restaurant. Because by experience you know Jimin would be there too. Like now.

You try to step away from his hold. Not because you want to but because you’re afraid of someone walking in and witnessing this. You don’t even know how Jimin manages to sneak in after you. Jimin doesn’t allow you to step away from him. He tightens his grip while whining. “Please. I missed you.” Hides his face in your neck. Is hugging you from the back.

“What if someone comes in?” You hiss. Eyes darting between mixing up your peanuts and the door.

“Let them.” Jimin mumbles again. His soft breath kissing your neck as he speaks. Melting you against him. It’s really hard not to give into his warm embrace. Especially when he gives you a gentle kiss. Right into your pulse point. “I don’t care. Just miss you.” Another kiss. You shiver. Close your eyes. Reopen them and give in. Just lose yourself in his familiar soothing scent. Allowing yourself to feel relaxed.

“Me too. I miss you too.” Admit.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You sigh as Jimin starts to rub your stomach soothingly. You let your head fall back into his chest.

“Then come back to work, princess.” Thousands of tingles shoot across your spine when he slowly sneaks his hands inside your t-shirt. “You know everyone will love it if you do. Come back, hm?” His words almost don’t reach your ears. You are slowly falling victim to his trap. Even your breathing is turning uneven. Who can blame you, though. You really do miss Park Jimin. Everything about him. His soothing touch to his breathy voice. Of course, you’re losing your mind on him. And to make things worse or better he starts drawing mindless patterns across your stomach. Making your skin pebbles under his touch. Making you tremble. All the while slowly kissing your neck and jaw. Inhaling your scent. Keeps dragging his fingers across your skin agonisingly slow. Up and down. Down and up. To your sides. Then down toward your waistband. Plays with it. Dips his hands inside. Not all the way down but just a little then pulls out again. You bite onto your lower lip to suppress the moans that are about to slip out. “Lil? Come back?” He groans in your ear, reminding you that you haven’t answered his question.

Oh yes, the question.

You straighten up like an arch. Trying to collect yourself. This time manage to step away from a slightly surprised Jimin. Turn around to face him. You give him a stern look just to earn a pout in return.

“Oh, c’mon! Don’t be a stubborn goat, lady.” Whines. You gasp in feigned offense.

“Goat?” You absolutely love it when you two would start bickering out of nowhere. Remind you of the old days. He’s always regarded you as a stubborn goat, hasn’t he?

“No. You’re a stubborn donkey.” He says with a stern face. Places his hands on his hips. You gasp again. Louder this time. Yet before you can counter back he starts scolding you. “You fucking need a job, Lil. Why can’t you just take back your old job when the freaking CEO offers you the position himself.”

You roll your eyes. He’s been asking you the same thing for weeks now.

First time was the day after you returned from your failed trip to Namiseom. He made an unannounced appearance in front of Kim’s in the evening. Asked you to come out. That was the first day you’ve felt like a real mistress. Sneaking out inside his car. Like a sleazy fox. Just to share a stolen moment of breathless whimpres. Laying in the backseat of his car while his cock was drilling in and out of you. His possessive bites decorating your skin in purple marks while you stained his expensive seats with your essence. Moaning out his name while he fucked you sensually. As if he had all the time in the world and it wasn’t just a moment you borrowed from the universe. And after you’ve both ended riding your highs, as you were drinking up his sweet scent and cuddling on his lap was when he brought up the idea first.

Come back to work with Hoseok, baby. I’m going mad. I just want you around.

It felt compelling. Especially when he asked that with a still husky voice and you were running high on your hormones. Aftermath of your orgasms still on your veins. But you said ‘No’. Because no matter how good the offer was, you will not go back into the company. It's too much trouble to go through. You didn’t want to meet Liya again. Not when you are back into being the same nasty bitch you are. Only difference? You are in love now. Despite everything, you wouldn’t risk your forbidden moments with Jimin for anything. It’s all good this way. Even though you have no job. Even though you will eventually become a burden on Jungkook’s shoulders. Or not. You’ll maybe become a burden on Jimin’s shoulders. Like a real mistress. A sugar baby. Your inner self- sane woman who’s still alive inside you- will scream at you. Even though you’ll feel like shit, you won’t go back to work in the R. U. N. If that’s the price for Jimin, then so be it.

“No, Park. I’m too freaking ashamed to go back there.” You give him a firm shake of your head.

“Nobody knows anything.”

“What if they do? Emi knows for sure. And She will let Liya know that I’m back and I’m not- uh- I’m not risking anything Jimin.”

“Risking what? She can’t make decisions for my company.”

“Yes but she can make your main sponsor say bye to you. You still haven’t figured things out Jimin. You still want time and I’m not going to ruin things even before they start.”

“That-” Whatever Jimin tries to say gets drowned with a loud voice closely followed by the loud thud of kitchen door slamming against the wall. And for no surprise you find Taehyung barging in with a wide grin. J follows him and Jin follows her. Then of course everybody follows everyone, making you thank yourself for stepping away from Jimin.

Still, with at least a five steps between you and Jimin, you feel nervous when you see your friends. Now you call them your friend. Because you feel that way. Somewhere along this shitty line, you’ve become friends. And you’re scared of them judging you. Of them deciding they no longer want to be friends. But no one shows even a sign of suspicion or noticing something off.

“Guess what?” Taehyung barks happily.

“What takes you so long to mix up some peanuts?” Yoongi doesn’t allow you or Jimin to ask ‘what?’ from Taehyung. Taehyung, however, doesn’t care.

“We just decided, we are going camping.” He exclaims happily.

“You did? Wow, good for you. Have fun then.” Jimin says with a serious face. Making you and several others snort. Taehyung lets out a very fake laugh.

“Very funny.”

“What? You didn’t ask me or Lil if we wanted to join.” Jimin states innocently. A small smile is creeping up on his lips.

“No need. I as your best friend made the decision for you. You’re going. And Jungkook here-” He points to Jungkook who has started munching on peanuts without a care. “As Li’s guardian-”

“My what?” You butt in for the first time. Not even knowing whether you should be offended or not.

“Guardian.” Taehyung repeats himself. Goes back to continue what he was saying. “He made the decision for Li. So, you’re going too.” States. Firmly. You gape at his face in pure disbelief for a minute before averting your gaze to Jungkook in a silent question. Jungkook gulps down his mouthful of peanuts first. Then takes another handful.

“What? I am your guardian. You are under my protection little lady.”

Jimin beats you in the scoff he lets out. Nobody minds him. Not even Jungkook.

“Isn’t she older than you?” Hoseok joins Jungkook in eating peanuts. You watch the way Jungkook gives a sneaky smile. Almost like a smirk. Looks you dead in the eye. You both know why.

“Oh yes, she is. But age is just a number, Hyung. Who cares?” Winks. You don’t think you’ll be able to roll your eyes as much as you want.

“I am not going.” So, you simply announce.

“Why not?” Jimin gasps right away. You just want to bang your head on a wall. He is asking why now? And Jungkook forgot that you can’t as well.

“Well, I don’t think I’d be able to stay up for a few days at this rate Mr. Park,” You say to Jimin first. And his face instantly turns serious with the realization. Then you turn to Jungkook to find that the smirk has already vanished. In its place now is gloom. “Too bad you forgot that as my so-called guardian, Jeon.” Nonetheless you say without a care of other people hearing your absurd conversation. They won’t understand a thing anyway. Proving your suspicions true, Namjoon gasps.

“Wait? What the fuck? You’ve never gone camping? Why would you ever think you have to stay up? We’re gonna have tents and- you know what? We’re definitely going and we’re taking her with us no matter what? This is so sad.” He shakes his head in sympathy. Well, fuck, this isn’t your desired outcome.

“That’s stupid Namjoon. Even if she’s never gone camping, why would she think she has to stay up?” Jin butts in. Slapping Hoseok's hand away, who is trying to steal the peanuts on Jin’s hand. Instead of Hoseok he hands them all to a grinning J.

“Ask her? She said so.” Namjoon argues, offended. Jin doesn’t ask you, however. Says something else to Namjoon as you pay your attention to Jimin and Jungkook who now look like wounded puppies.

“Sure we can come up with something.” Jungkook hesitantly mumbles. Eyes wandering over to Jimin. You follow Jungkook’s action, looking at Jimin expectantly. He doesn't look like a brat who would whine and pout until you agree anymore. Instead he is serious now. You know he won’t do anything that would put your well being under a risk. No. You know he’s already decided to step away. Listen to you. Yet before any of that Jungkook stands up abruptly.

“Wait!” He bursts out. Grabbing everyone's attention. “That old lady. I mean the one who visited you at the cottage,” He looks at you. You know what he is talking about, though you have no idea where he is going with this. Not to mention that everyone is staring at him as if he’s a lecturer and they all are students without a single clue. “She did that because you stayed up, didn’t she?” Jungkook disregards every curious look upon him. “She came because you were doing something you shouldn’t be doing. No more than seventy two hours in one place, yeah? You almost spent more than two days there and boom there she was to warn you.” Jungkook looks excited like a little kid. Eyes all lighten up and face bright.

“Gosh, no.. not this again!” You hear Taehyung groans. But you don’t pay him any attention. You are fully focused on whatever Jungkook is saying.

“And then, you didn’t wish- I mean you wished for something you shouldn’t and there that kid came. Again, warning-” He steps away from where he is standing. Rounds the table to walk over to you. And you’re beginning to understand where he is going now. Slowly. But surely. The pieces falling into their places. “Noona? Do you get what I’m saying.” Jungkook grabs your shoulders. Gives you a gentle shake. “You- we don’t have to look for them. They’ll come find you if you just break a rule. Do something you shouldn’t do. Like-”

“Staying up for a few days.” You complete it for him. Jungkook nods enthusiastically. Looks past you at Jimin. A beat passes then even before you can so much as blink you are being yanked back.

“No! Hell no! Are you kidding me Jungkook?” Jimin drags you back at the same time he steps between you and Jungkook. Lets you go before focusing on speaking with Jungkook. “That’s too much of a risk to take. What if she- what if-” Stutters. Swallows down what was about to say. Changes it at the last minute. “No. We’re not doing that.” Declares. Making Jungkook’s jaw go slack. Despite the fact they both would agree on some things, you know they can’t stand each other. Jungkook appears like he wants to say something else but is interrupted by the tentative voice of Yoona.

“What are we talking about again?”

“Yes. Are we talking about a movie or something?” It’s J who chimes in as well.

“Nope. I think they are talking in a secret code. Those words have different meanings.” Hoseok puts his two cents on the table as well. You turn your head to find everyone gaping at the three of you like you’ve grown second heads. Well, fuck that. This might look more than crazy. You force yourself to give them a smile. Which for sure comes out as a grimace. Awkward. Everyone waiting for one of you to answer.

“It’s a.. Movie?” Jungkook is the one who manages to bring something up at last. Hesitantly. His eyes on J. Just to let her know that her guess was the correct one. For a moment nobody says anything. Then Jin perks up.

“Yeah? What movie? Sounds interesting. I feel like you three are characters in it.” Raises his brow. Jungkook sighs heavily. Knowing his lie is obvious. Leaving you to stupidly stare at your friends’ judging faces. You have no idea what to say. Jungkook shouldn’t have started this here. Now you would never find a way to-

“That’s a movie they want to produce” Taehyung grumbles suddenly. Every single head turning toward him.

Oh, fuck no!

“What?” Yoongi snorts.

Exactly!

“Yup. The movie we want to produce.” Then you hear Jungkook agreeing. That’s the stupidest lie you’ve ever heard. Yet even with its absurdity, it makes your friends turn into each other instead of gawking at you. Splitting into two teams to debate how stupid that is. Good. They’ve got distracted. And you take the opportunity to check with Jimin. As soon as your eyes land on him, he shakes his head. Firmly. Mouth a thin line.

“We are not doing that.” Says. Just grab a chair and sits down.

But what if it’s the only way?

……………………….

Your blood is boiling. You're so mad, you feel like you could punch a hole through a wall. Or so you think. Probably won’t try it though. But still you’re so mad. Mad at Park Jimin. Who the hell does he think he is, to demand what you should or shouldn’t do in your life? You are fully capable of making your own decisions. Whether they are bad or good. Yet here Jimin is. Ordering you around. Saying ‘No’ whenever you bring up the idea of staying up until someone mysterious would visit or going on that camping trip.

And to make matters worse, Jungkook has turned his back on you as well. He no longer is excited about his own idea, nor does he want to go on the trip. According to him—even though he hates admitting Jimin's right, he wasn’t thinking through when he brought up the idea. Now though, he doesn’t even want to think about that.

That drives you up the wall.

It’s been weeks since the day the idea came in. Since the day Taehyung and J had started planning on the camping trip. An odd pair to be working together, but apparently, they are in charge. Yet no matter how hard you try, these two men in your life are acting like stubborn bulls. Now you’re running out of patience. There’s only so much a girl can take after all.

See now, it’s not that you wanted to go on a darn trip at first. No. All you wanted was to try out the theory Jungkook brought up. In desperate hope that it would work and you’ll find a way somehow. Then somewhere along the line of you trying to persuade Jimin and listening to Taehyung and J ramble about the same thing over and over again, you wanted to kill two birds with one stone. If you are about to risk your life trying to test out another theory, then you might as well do it while enjoying a weekend trip with the new crackheads in your life. You want to go on that trip. You want to see what will happen if you break a rule. It doesn’t matter how bad things could go. And Jimin and Jungkook can go fuck themselves.

You barge inside Jungkook’s cozy kitchen. Just out of the shower, your hair still wet. You’ve made up your mind while showering. No one can rule your life this way.

“I. Am. Going.” You state just as you spot Jungkook standing in front of the stove. Cooking something that smells delicious. He turns around to face you in surprise at your unexpected voice.

“What?” Asks innocently.

“Camping. I am going, Jeon Jungkook.” You repeat, more firmly. Yet as how it was all these times, Jungkook sighs heavily.

“No Noona, you-”

You shut him up by throwing the towel in your hand toward him. He catches it with ease for your annoyance.

“You fucking don’t get to decide what I do, Jungkook. I decide what I want and right now I’ve decided I am going.” You declare once again before you turn around. Ready to leave when Jungkook starts to say something else.

“Bu-”

And knowing exactly what he is about to say you turn toward him again before he can even start. “And neither does Park Jimin. He doesn’t get to say what I do either.” Jungkook closes his mouth, proving that he indeed was about to bring Jimin up a second ago. Feeling victorious, you waste no time in storming toward the coffee table in the living room. Just to pick up your phone. You have just rendered one man speechless and there’s another one to go.

I’m going on that trip Park.

You shoot Jimin a quick text. Almost lock your phone screen and toss it away when it vibrates with a new message. You roll your eyes. At this rate you will start to believe that the CEO of R.U.N has no job to do. That’s how much Jimin has been texting you these days. You open the new message.

You are not.

A bitter scoff leaves your mouth.

The fucking audacity of this man. Oh, only if you could throw a wet towel right across his face as well. Unfortunately though, that is not an option. So, you opt into another text message.

Try stopping me!!!!!!!

Then you toss your phone away just as Jungkook steps before you.

“Noona!” He whines. Your towel is still in his hand. Looks like a hungry baby. You will not fall into that trap though. He can whine all the much he wants, you’ll not give a fuck.

“What?” You snap. Feeling guilty instantly when he winces. Just for a second, however. He gains his posture rather quickly and your feelings shift into anger just as he opens his mouth.

“Oh, c’mon, we can’t do that. You can’t. You didn’t even want to go on that stupid trip in the first place.” Jungkook finally throws your towel into the couch.

“Well, that’s before you came up with the idea.”

“Fuck. I’m such an idiot then.”

“No. You’re such a genius.”

“Noona…” Jungkook even stomps his feets like a child. You groan, exasperated

“My god, Kookie. Will you please stop? I just want to see if it works and I want to go on that trip.” A silence falls over following your words. Just Jungkook looking at you with wide eyes. Eyes that are troubled. Worried. Scared. You know they care. Both him and Jimin. But they need to understand as well. “Listen Jungkook. I just don’t plan on dying, you know. I don’t want to do something that would harm me either. All I want is to just try. I’m not going to stay past seventy two and fuck everything up.” You step closer to him. He just pouts. Adorable. “I promise I’ll just sleep before the clock runs out.” Put your hand on his arm, feeling him relax under your touch.

It’s amazing how close you’ve become. You thank god every day for not letting it ruin between you and Jungkook after that day. It would have hurt so bad if you had fucked up your relationship with Jungkook. In the end, he is the home you come to after an exhausting day. Even when you love Park Jimin. A lot. Too much perhaps. Jungkook is your home. And you want him to understand you.

“But what if something bad happens, Noona..” He concedes after a long minute. Takes your hand in his. Squeezes. Peers into your eyes. You squeeze his hand in return.

“But what if not? What if nothing happens? What if everything went so good and-” You let out another breath. “Please Kookie. Let’s just go and enjoy ourselves. Even if this doesn’t work or even if they come and say I’ll just have to stop coming here from tomorrow, then at least we’d have good memories.”

“Oh, fuck don’t say stuff like that. Not fair!” Jungkook this time squeezes your hand as if he wants to break it. Making you almost whimper.

“Please. I want to go and I want you there as well.” You give your best puppy eyes. Despite these two men being a pain in the ass for you with their ridiculous commands and demands, they have made it unbearable when they’ve decided not to go as well. How stupid is that?

Jungkook lets your hand go. Allowing it to fall limp. Groans. Pushing both of his hands through his tousled black hair. Then gives you a look. Utterly done. Yet instead of saying anything to you, start fishing inside his pocket. You watch curiously as he pulls out his phone. Starts typing something furiously while muttering something inaudible to himself. You are just about to ask him what the fuck is he doing when you hear your phone vibrates yet again. Still confused, you slowly bend over to grab the device. Quickly unlocking it. There sure is a message from Jimin but you ignore it. Go to the group chat J has created for the very purpose of this trip. The newest text there is from Jungkook.

Count me in. I’m coming……

A slow smile spreads across your face.

“Happy?” Jungkook questions affectionately. You beam at him. Nodding your head crazily before throwing your arms around his neck. He returns the hug instantly. Arms protectively wrapping around your waist and crushing you in his hold.

“Thank You.” You mumble.

“You’re so fucking annoying.” He grumbles.

………………………….

A vein throbs in Jimin’s head. This is how he’ll die. He’ll have a stroke. The thing is, he’s not exactly mad. No. He is frustrated. Tired. Freaking exhausted. He is annoyed at the fact that he can’t get mad even if wants to.

Arguing with you is like asking a boulder to move on its own. No use. And if this was anyone else, Jimin would’ve strangled them by now. But alas. This is you he has to deal with. It’s impossible to get mad. How can he after all?

He swears he was about to give you a piece of his mind when he turns around after you whine out a ‘please Park’. Then there you are. Stubbornly pouting. Cheeks puffing out. An adorable scowl on your forehead. Nose scrunching up a little bit. Getting angry? At you? Who’s he kidding? He just wants to swallow you whole. And top of everything, you have to look like that. The pretty floral dress you’ve chosen for the night dancing around you to the gentle melody of wind. The silky material hugging your ethereal curves divinely. The gloss you have applied on your luscious lips glistening under the street lamps. Just as how your eyes are shining. That starry night. His starry night. How can he be mad at you?

“For fucks sake, Lil!” So he grumbles frustratedly. Steps toward you. You just look to your side. Obviously mad at him. “C’mon baby, listen to me. Stop being stubborn please.” He takes another step forward. You turn your head even further away. He is sure you’ll even snap your neck trying to keep your head turned away from him. “Spring Roll!” So he does his best to make you look at him.

“What?” You bark. But still don’t look at him. Leaves him with no other options but to grab your face. Squeezing your cheeks and turning you to face him by force.

But fuck!

Shouldn’t have done that now. You are apparently a witch. Are bewitching him with your fiery gaze and even more pouty lips. When Jimin gently shakes your face and talks to you sternly next he certainly doesn’t feel the way he sounds. It’s just a pretense to get you to relent. “Do you think this is a game, Lil? Huh?”

“No.” You answer with the same fiery tone. Try in vain to push his hand away. “I know what I’m doing, Park.” Add. Well, that’s the case. Jimin doesn’t think you know what you’re doing at all. He doesn’t want you to do this. No. It’s too much of a risk. He doesn’t even want to humor the thought. There are a million things that can go wrong. You never returning? That’s not the worst case after all. Sure, it would make Jimin die everyday while being alive. It would hurt him greatly. The prospect of not seeing you ever. Not even a glimpse. But still you’ll be safe and alive somewhere. Even if it is in a different universe. The worst case, however, is something bad happening to you. Turning into dust? Well, isn’t that another fancy way to say dying. The thought alone makes Jimin tremble.

No. He won’t let you. This is all Jungkook’s fault after all. Then the idiot decided to give up like that. Now he has to make sure you don’t do something stupid. All by himself.

“You don’t know what you’re doing baby. You’re acting like a kid.” He stops squeezing your cheeks so you can actually speak. He does it hesitantly. Ready to grab your face again in case you turn your face away again. You don’t. This time you keep your shiny eyes on him.

“Oh, fuck you, Park. You’re the one who’s being a kid right now. You’re not even listening to me.” You huff. Fuck, you are impossible. Are pouting again. He gets this strong urge to kiss that pout away. Kiss you until you’re breathless and forget about this argument. Or maybe he can just turn you around, bend you over the car hood and fuck all your senses away. That’s not the rational thing to do, however. You’re too precious for him to just avoid confrontations. He has to face it.

“I am listening to you lady, you just-”

“Then why the fuck can’t you understand that I just want to try.” You interrupt Jimin’s words. And he just swallows his next words up. Not knowing what to say anymore.

“Lil…” Just rests his forehead against you. You don’t show any dislike. Just sigh in content. So he closes his eyes. Enjoying the close proximity. Enjoying your soft breaths fanning his face. Your body warmth radiating into him. And he feels you relax. Knows that if he’s to open his eyes now, he would witness that fire leaving your eyes. Wondrous. That is. What a single touch from him would do to you. Amazing. How it is the same for him. He relaxes in your hold as well. Especially when you bring a hand to cup his cheek. This feels good. Too good. All he wants is to stay in this moment. Your touch, your breath, and your soft voice are igniting a fire inside him. That fire is not lust though. No. This is something else. This is a kind of fire that is so intense it makes him want to cry. It’s soothing and painful at the same time. It’s a restlessness. It’s a yearn. It’s a fascination.

God it hurts so good. He doesn’t even know how to explain it to you. Yet it seems an argument won’t solve the problem at all. So, he gives up. Changes the course. “Please.. I don’t want to risk it. I want you to be safe.” Speaks so softly that even he can’t hear his voice properly. You hear him of course. You always will. You just nod. Hand still cupping his cheek. Forehead still resting against his. Gives Jimin a fake sense of hope that you’re about to relent for a second. Then you inhale a long breath.

“I know.” Mutter. Your breath tingling his lips. “I know Jimin. But I’m so fucking scared.” Admit in a hush voice. Jimin goes rigid on your hold. Squeezing his already closed eyes even tighter. Of course, you’re scared. This is your life after all. If he’s scared of you dying, then you might be petrified. Jimin has always wondered whether you really wanted to do this. Or even if you do, how long it will be until you change your mind. True, you were the one who rushed to him, panicked and scared, when you first heard you only have a year. True, you agreed with him right away when he asked you to stay. But what if you have now changed your mind. What if you’re being so stubborn because you want to go back.

Jimin suddenly doesn’t want to listen to you. But you do speak. Completely oblivious to the turmoil he’s going through. “I’m so freaking scared Jimin.” Your voice comes out hoarse. Jimin snakes his arms around you. Places one in your waist and the other on the back of your head. He would understand if you just want to end it. He would just give you the right-

“Oh, c’mon, we were supposed to have a year.” Then you suddenly choke out. Forcing Jimin to snap open his eyes.

Wait what?

He directly peers at your eyes. Eyes that are glossed over now. Covered with a sheen of tears. No. That’s never been his intention. He doesn’t want you to cry. Before he can say anything, though, you start again. “You were supposed to have a year to make me want to stay. I was supposed to have a year to decide. I just-” You gulp harsh. “I just want to stay, Jimin. You don’t want me to stay anymore?” Ask with such a broken voice Jimin feels his heart physically bleeds.

“No, baby. Lil, no… I- why would you even say that.” He instantly pulls away from you, so he can get a better view of your gorgeous face. Cups your face with both of his hands. “God, I want you to stay. I want you to stay until you don’t want to anymore. Until you’re so tired of me. Until you’re done with me.” Mumbles, warmly. He’d never admit the sickening joy he feels at your confession. You want to stay. And blame him for yearning for that.

“Then let’s just try.” You put your hands on top of him. Peer at his eyes. Yours glinting. Beautiful. Oh, so fucking beautiful. He’s growing weak. Even his knees buckle under your soft gaze. He can’t say no. Not after what you’ve said.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

What the fuck are you doing to him. Why’s he so weak when it comes to you?

“Fuck, Lil. You just, ugh-” So, he groans. Decides he would give in then. But of course, he still can come up with a good deal. If he’s losing then might as well try to bargain. “Twenty four hours then.” Offers. And your soft expression instantly morphs into a furious one. Damn adorable.

“Oh fuck, that’s just a day Jimin. Fuck that! Seventy hours.”

“Forty eight.”

“Sixty eight.”

“Sixty. That’s it. No more. That’s more than enough.”

You open your mouth. Then as if you change your mouth at the last minute, close it back. Sigh. “Fine. Deal.” Agree. “Deal.” Jimin agrees as well. A moment passes. In that moment your expression turns back into an excited one back again. “You know, besides this whole deal, I want to go on that trip so bad.” Say with the most endearing smile he has ever seen. He can’t help but peck your lips. “Yeah?” Questions against your lips.

“Mm hm, it’s going to be fun. We can sneak out in the night and then fuck.” Your tone is comically serious when you say that. A throaty laugh erupts from Jimin.

“Is that a bribe, lady. That’s.. Not going to work. That’s terrible.” He shakes his head in displeasure. Or at least trying to appear disappointed. The smile that is spreading across his lips gives him away.

“It won’t?” You raise a brow.

“It won’t.” He confirms. You tilt your head cockily.

“Are you sure, Park?” Ask confidently before dragging your hand through his stomach. And he knows where your destination is. He works at light speed when he grabs your hand and holds it still. Making you giggle prettily. His entire body flushes at the sound.

Oh, he would do anything to keep hearing that sound. Anything.

“You little minx.” He drops his lips once again toward yours. Catching your lips in a searing kiss. You reciprocate it happily. Curling your arms around his neck and slowly starting to press your body desperately against him. Making blood rush to his cock. Making him painfully hard. It’s funny how he is twitching inside his pants within mere seconds. Just because he is getting drunk on your lips. Just because he feels your body against him. Looks like he would have to take care of the cum stains in his car seats again.

A minx indeed.

His minx, nonetheless.

……………………..

You are giddy like a school kid going to their first ever sleepover. You have been buzzing with excitement for the past few days. Even disregarding your nerves about the prospect of what might come out of this. Poor Key and Jungkook had to endure your excited rambling for almost a week. Jungkook did it happily though. Not Key, however. She wasn’t happy about you going missing for an entire three days. Especially, with her knowing what can happen if things go wrong. She was terrified of the prospect of you wiping out of her memory. You had to reassure her hundreds of times yesterday before bed. Promising on your friendship that you would return safely. Before she forgot you.

You are certain that anything like that won’t happen, though. You have that positive feeling. In your stomach. Of course, you are buzzing. Besides, this is your first time camping. You are a little sad that Key can’t join. Maybe, you will arrange another trip in your world. With Key. And Chan. You not so surprisingly found out that you are very happy about the idea of Key dating Chan. Even though she doesn’t admit it yet. They make a cute couple. And you should arrange that trip. Because you are definitely not opposed to feeling this way again.

Entire two- hour drive to the camping site with Jungkook and Taehyung was filled with nothing but an endless laughter. Even Taehyung’s very off-key singing has brightened up your mood. You will never admit it to his face but Taehyung is the best company someone could ever wish for. He has you choking on laughter describing all the weird people he met during his search for the ice cream vendor. Jungkook too. All three of you are still trying to calm down from the last joke cracked by Taehyung when he finally brings the car to a halt. You take in a deep breath before practically jumping out of the car. Into the first breezes of summer. Feeling the soft but warm sun kissing your skin and letting wind play with your hair. Crunching green grass under your feet.

“Fuck, I love this!” You mumble to yourself. Throw your head up to feel the sun in your face. Fill up your lungs with fresh air. Then take a good look around your campsite. Eyes falling on the few people who are already here. You spot Yoongi in the distance. Carrying some heavy bags while Hoseok walks behind him. Probably bossing around. You spot Namjoon and Yoona as well. Helplessly staring down at a tent. They are not going to get that thing up. Not unless someone else helps them.

Grinning from ear to ear, you raise both your hands to wave at them. Three pairs of hands greet you back. Yoongi greets you with his foot. He just raises his one foot and tilt it side to side. Understandable. His hands are full. You snort loudly before finally turning around to see what Jungkook and Taehyung are doing. Find them bickering over luggage. You walk over them to offer a hand.

“Need help?”

“No.” Jungkook exclaims.

“Yes.” Taehyung bursts out. Whips his head to Jungkook in disbelief. “Of course, we need help. There’s so many bags.”

“Wow, you’re such a gentleman.” Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“I am. Take this.” Taehyung disregards Jungkook as he forces a heavy bag into your hands. You barely catch it, balancing it out on your arms hardly.

“Yah! You stupid..” You hiss, finally managing to save the bag from falling. Taehyung pays you no attention. “Very gentlemanly… And he’d talk about his impressive dick.” You mutter under your breath. Yet unfortunately he hears it. Straightens up immediately.

“I do have an impressive dick.” Points out.

“Well, that doesn’t count if you are not a gentleman.”

“Why are we talking about his dick?” Jungkook butts in, unloading more bags.

“Good question.” You nod in agreement with Jungkook.

“Because, I have an impressive one.” Taehyung yet again notes.

“How can we believe it? You have to show us then.” Jungkook challenges Taehyung with a smug look on his face. Okay, you shouldn’t have brought this topic up. This is going to become a headache now. Luckily for you, though, just before Taehyung can reply to Jungkook’s challenge, the sound of an oncoming vehicle diverts all your attention. You all turn around to witness the infamous black E.W.

Jimin.

A huge grin breaks on your lips at the sight. Initially, it was planned that you, Jungkook, and Taehyung all would be riding with Jimin. Then Jimin had to attend an important meeting together with Jin. You believe that the meeting has nothing to do with the new game they are launching soon. For some reason, you think it has everything to do with Jimin’s plan for escaping the vice grip Liya’s father has on their company. His plan for freedom. Whatever the real reason might be, it has made you travel without Jimin. You with Jungkook and Taehyung and Jimin with Jin and J. You would be lying if you say you weren’t a teeny bit upset but that’s not a problem. He is here now.

You contemplate moving forward for a second. Not knowing what exactly you should do. It’s not like that you can jump into his arms freely. Then before you can do anything Taehyung beats you to it. A huge gasp leaving his mouth and dropping the bag on his hands.

“Jimin-ah…” Shouts through the top of his lungs. Making you flinch at the loud noise and Jungkook cursing slowly.

“Yah! Yah! We have eggs in that bag idiot.” He yells after his curse.

Taehyung, though, doesn’t even hear Jungkook as he’s already running to Jimin. Dramatic. Only- if only you can roll your eyes to the back of your head. Since you can’t do it, you just opt to watch the way Taehyung runs halfway toward the car. Stops when Jimin gets out of the car before he could reach it. And naturally your eyes roam over to the man you’re in love with. Still in his work attire for no surprise. Your stomach does that flip over instantly at the sight of him. Butterflies. Eating you from the inside. In a good way. Just for a long second, however. Even before you can process the feeling, Jimin slams the car door shut. The butterflies in your tummy instantly disappear at the sound, just like how Taehyung’s smile does.

Jimin turns to face you then. His jaw slack. Eyebrows pulled together. The expression is so tight. Pissed! Undoubtedly, that’s how an angered man would look. And you know how this specific man looks when he’s mad.

Oh! Something might’ve gone wrong.

You wonder if it has to do something with the said meeting. Or something else that went wrong with the company. You don’t get to think too hard, though. A sound of a second car approaching takes your attention away from Park Jimin and toward a white car. It’s very familiar. You are certain you’ve seen it somewhere. You furrow your brows in confusion as the vehicle comes to a halt. A couple seconds pass. It’s unfortunate the driver had parked it in a way that obscured their face from you. So, you wait patiently until the driver’s side door opens. Until a figure gets out.

A figure wrapped in a black blazer set just similar to Jimin. Her raven silky hair framing her perfectly maintained face. Tall in her four inches. And wearing a condescending smile.

Of fucking course, the car is familiar!

Because it’s Kim Liya’s.

Your stomach drops. A weird sensation engulfs you whole. Really? This again? You immediately avert your gaze toward Jimin. Are met with his apologetic eyes. You can’t believe it. You didn’t know she was coming. Why is she here anyway? Maybe that’s such a selfish thought but nobody has ever mentioned her presence. This is just like the day at the restaurant. Like J’s birthday. Liya has made a surprise appearance and you’ve ruined everything that day. This can’t be happening again.

You wouldn’t have come if you knew she was coming. Not to be a bitch but this is going to mess things up. You should not believe your gut feeling after this. Everytime you think it’s going to be good, something like this happens. See now, you are well aware that you have no rights to have such bitter thoughts. You know you’re an outsider. This is her life. These people are supposed to be her friends. Or not. Liya is not exactly fond of this friend group. She has made it obvious. Everybody knows it. Which is why you question her presence on this occasion. Still you are the outsider, though. You shouldn't question her presence. This is her world. Her life. She can be anywhere she wants to be.

And now you can’t do anything about it either. She is here and so are you. It’s going to be an exhausting trip. You would still go through it. You have other important matters to attend to after all. This is nothing. Just three nights of enduring her presence. Just three days of seeing her being Jimin’s girlfriend. The person who you are not.

Well, it sucks to be you!

You throw another brief glance at Jimin. His eyes are still on you. No longer pissed but remorseful. You ignore him. Turn around to take the bag to the campsite just as a second figure- who you recognize as Seoyoen- steps out of the car.

“I thought you didn’t want to come here.” Taehyung asks in apprehension.

“Plans change, baby.” Seoyeon answers.

That’s the last thing you hear before you walk over to your other friends.

………………

You all stand in a circle in the middle of your campsite. Surrounded by the newly built tents. Maybe not all of you are standing since Hoseok and Yoongi are lying down. Yoongi’s face is covered by a hat and you suspect he’s already in dreamland. Meanwhile Hoseok is constantly complaining.

“Yah! Get this shit done already kids. I need to eat.” He grumbles once again. Prompting J and Taehyung who’ve been going over something on a tablet together, to raise their heads. You find it amusing to see them working together. Especially, when they act like they’re on a mission to save the world.

“Shut up, Hyung. This shit is important.” Taehyung disregards Hoseok’s complaint with a wave of his hand. Hoseok gasps offended.

“We are almost done. We just need to make sure we’ve got everything.” J backs up Taehyung. They’ve been saying that for a good twenty minutes now. It’s really ridiculous. Both of them are not the type to be perfectionists. They are the type to just roll with it. Type to eat, drink, and then sleep. No hard stuff. But it seems they have much more to themselves. Are surprising everyone with how meticulously they’ve planned this trip. Everything is on spot. From this place to your food. You’ll give them credits for that. They deserve that. Only that it is getting tiresome now.

“God, J,J, we’ll know if we’ve missed something. Let’s worry about that later.” Jungkook speaks behind you. His chin is placed on top of your head. Is using you as leverage. You agree with him wholeheartedly. And with Hoseok as well. You are hungry.

“Yeah? Then what will happen if one of you idiots chopped off your fingers by mistake and we have no first aid kit here? Wait, do we have a first aid kit?” J turns to Taehyung. Both of them immediately rushing to check that.

“Fuck, I thought Hobi was bad at planning.” Namjoon whines.

“They are not bad at planning. They are too good. And that’s worse than being bad.” Yoona corrects her boyfriend. Taehyung and J are still rummaging through the bags. You slowly avert your gaze from them to your left. Stealing a glance at the man standing there with Jin. The man you’re in love with. He has changed into much more comfortable clothes now. Is talking with Jin but his eyes are undoubtedly on you. You have not seen Liya and Seoyoen around. Probably still at the bathhouse. Good. You have time to stare at Jimin then. He gives you a soft smile once he notices you’re glancing. You reciprocate it hesitantly.

You’ve sworn to yourself that you’ll not be a bitch to Jimin about this situation. No. It’s not his fault. Liya does what she wants. She’s completely allowed to be here. But apparently it’s really hard not to be a bitch when you are jealous. You can’t help but think through your time ahead on this trip. Jimin and Liya would be sharing a tent together. So what? They share a house together everyday. They share a bed. They share food. They share a life. That realization makes you even more jealous.

God this is pure torture….

Still it’s not Jimin’s fault. It’s no one’s fault. You have to go through this.

You get distracted from his soft gaze and smile when you catch the sight of two friends who are coming toward you through your peripherals. You immediately turn your head away from Jimin. Paying your attention back to J and Taehyung. Just as you do they both straighten up like bolt of lightning. Abandoning their search for whatever they are looking for this time.

“Fuck!” J yells. Taehyung turns to all of you with his hands placed on his hips. Dismayed. As if he’s just discovered one of you ate his favourite cupcake.

“What? What happened? Who died?” J’s shout makes the peacefully sleeping Yoongi sits up abruptly. His eyes are droopy. He in fact, it seems was in dreamland.

“We have no water!” J clarifies the reason for her sudden outburst just as Seoyeon and Liya join the circle.

“What do you mean?” Seoyeon questions very confusedly.

“We have no water, that’s what I mean.” J regards her with a look that clearly questions her intelligence level.

“We heard that, J, but what do you mean we have no water? There’s a freaking river nearby.” Hoseok- very much startled like his cousin- points his finger where the said river is located at.

“That’s probably not safe to drink.” Liya is the one who answers Hoseok. J agrees to her with a firm nod.

“And there’s no drinking water in the camp site. Unless you want to risk it and drink from the river.” Taehyung adds. “Hell no!” Seoyeon scrunches up her face in distaste when Jungkook perks up.

“It can be safe, though. People in the movies always do that shit.” Shares. And earn a unified chorus of disapproval.

“Unfortunately, this is not a movie and I’ll not drink water from a river.” Liya levels Jungkook with a pointed look. You hear Jungkook scoff. “As if we would give a fuck.” Mumbles.

“Okay, no one wants anyone to end up in a hospital so that’s a no.” J takes charge of the conversation again.

“And what are we going to do about it? How did we even miss damn water? I mean it’s water.” Jin questions as he walks next to J and peers over the tablet on her hand. “Which idiot forgot to bring what they were assigned to.” He glances over whatever on the device with furrowed brows. For a minute. Then takes it in his hand. And at that Taehyung and J go weirdly quiet. Yoongi is the one who picks up on that firstly. An amused chuckle leaves him.

“What’s going on?” Jimin joins the chaos for the first time. His voice makes you glance at him again. He isn’t looking at you this time, however. Full attention on his older friend who’s still scanning through the device. Before answering Jimin’s question, Jin throws a brief glance at J. She is just trying her best to avoid looking at anyone.

“That… it seems….wasn’t assigned to anyone.” Jin exhales as he gives the tablet back to J.

“So much for being too good.” Hoseok teasingly muses. Making both J and Taehyung break into a ramble of thousands of excuses.

“Yah, people make mistakes.”

“At least we didn’t promise you a weekend in a luxury cottage and then made you do the dishes.”

“Not fair blaming only us.”

“You should’ve checked the details too…”

“Okay, all right, shut it.” Jin interrupts their ranting with a groan. “This isn’t going to solve the problem. What are we going to do?”

“What else? Someone obviously has to go back and bring some water bottles.” Yoona shrugs.

“Nope!”

“No way… I’m not gonna move a finger.”

“You gotta be kidding me!”

Like that the hell breaks again. Loud voices of disagreement flowing across the otherwise peaceful campsite.

“They should go, they forgot it.” Jungkook grumbles from behind you. To which Jimin agrees with a beat of heart for your surprise. Jungkook and Jimin are a very weird duo.

“Yes. You are the ones who created the problem so you should be the ones to solve it. Leave us out of this.” Jimin points a finger right at Taehyung. The man in the receiving end leaves a horrendous gasp.

“Yah! Yah!” Taehyung shouts. “I’m unfriending you from now on. You should take my side and defend me, moron.” Pouts hard that you really feel sorry for him.

“Yah!! What about the time then you ratted me out to Hyung an-“ Jimin starts with a loud whine. Only to get interrupted by Jin.

“Shut the fuck up you two.” He gives both men- who are acting like siblings more than friends- a death stare. Works like magic. Both go silent instantly. “And really Jimin-ah? Kook?” Gives a look to Jungkook as well. You turn around to find Jungkook in utter disbelief that he got called out too. “You gonna just blame like that and leave it to them? What kind of friends would do that?” Asks. “It’s not fair to do that.” Adds. Taehyung and J agree with him wholeheartedly. Jin apparently is back to being the eldest of the group it seems. Or not.

“You’re just saying that because you are whipped for that woman, Hyung.” Hoseok calls the buff out. A sneaky smirk on his face. Jin-like you’ve seen before- turns into red. His face is visibly burning.

“Tha-that’s not-“

“So what if he is? Jealous?” J, however, is thriving. Happiest she’s ever been. Hoseok scoffs at the answer for the question. Yet whatever he wanted to say to that never comes out when Jin takes the matters back into his hand.

“Enough! We are going to do this very fairly.” He orders with a strange glint in his eyes. Strange enough that it makes you squint your eyes in suspicion. He’s not up to any good. You know he isn’t.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t tell me you’re gonna do that draw thing again!” Namjoon suddenly gasps.

See, you knew he wasn’t up to any good.

…………………..…

“My God, can we just act like adults? Can’t someone just volunteer and go buy the water bottles? It’s like a twenty minute drive. Why make so much of a fuss?” Liya groans from where she is sitting on the ground. Cross-legged. You think she is making a valid point. You people are being a little extra here.

Everyone is sitting on the ground in a circle. A bowl filled with pieces of papers in the middle. As if you’re about to perform some kind of a ritual. And to add more to the part of being extra, everyone is looking like a bunch of cows who are about to be slaughtered.

“Then you should go and do it.” Hoseok answers Liya with a sneer. “Since you’re so matured.” Adds deliberately. His head tilting to the side a little. Liya gives him a look that clearly screams that she wasn’t talking to him.

“No one’s gonna volunteer Liya. Everyone is so immature. Let’s just get this over with already.” Jin butts in hastily. Saving- probably a heated argument between his friend and his other friend’s girlfriend. Reluctantly they both accept that and pay attention to the silly little thing you’re about to do. “Okay, so, we know it’s just a twenty minute drive and one person can totally handle it, but to be fair we will choose two.” Jin explains the rules- if you can call them that.

“Or….” Jungkook drags. Is sitting next to you. “You just want to make two people suffer.” Comments, making Jin gasp.

“I would never-” He starts.

“Yes you would. We all know that. Just get ahead with this. I can eat the whole GrillGo, at this rate.” Yoona whines from next to her dear- very bored looking boyfriend. You’ve come to know that GrillGo is these peoples’ favourite place to eat junk foods. And you’ve come to love the place as well. Even the mention of the name makes your stomach growl. You can’t agree with Yoona more. Think it’s very fair that she kicks her leg as well.

For a second, Jin looks like he’d argue. Then he shrugs. Admits. Drags the bowl toward him. “All right, here’s how this will go. Since these two almost planned everything-” Gestures at Taehyung and J. “Their names won’t be here. And-”

“Yah! How’s that fair?” Jimin almost throws a rock at Jin. His plump pretty lips agape in disbelief. Jin isn’t the one who answers him, however. It’s Taehyung who looks even more in disbelief. Or offended. Or a mix of both.

“Yah! Why the hell can’t you just be happy for me.”

“For fucks sake, guys, please!” Yoona falls into her back dramatically. Jimin mouths a ‘fuck you’ to Taehyung as Jin shoves the bowl into J’s hand. Not minding the comment Jimin had made.

“A..nd-” Instead he starts again. “They’ll choose two names. Randomly, of course.” You expect everyone to protest and start mini protests but they look dejected.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Only Yoongi mumbles.

And like that the game begins. J takes the bowl as if she’s presented with a kingdom, not just pieces of papers with her friends’ names on them. She gives the bowl a good shake. Tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth. Then pushes her hand inside, quite not picking up one right away.

“Hurry the fuck up, woman.” Jungkook groans. J shoots him a death glare. But then finally picks up one. Unfolds it. “Oh, god please tell me it’s not me.” Jungkook interjects again.

“Well, unfortunately it’s not you. Such a shame.” J rolls her eyes. “It’s Park Jimin.” She informs you as she shows the piece of paper to the rest of you. Everyone breaks into a loud chatter. Even someone starts clapping. Jungkook lets out a noise in satisfaction while Jimin does one in resignation.

“Of course, it's me. Fuck my life!” Gets to his feet. Pats the dust off his clothes even though there are none visible. “I can go by myself. No need to make everyone suffer.” Adds thoughtfully. Such a sweet thing to say. You would’ve cooed at that in a different time. By the look of your friends’ faces you know everyone thinks the same. Or not.

“Fuck you, you little prick!” Taehyung yells through the top of his lungs. Startling several of you. “I swear to god Jimin-ah, you and I fucking enemies from now on.”

“Wha-what the… what the fuck? What did I do this time?” Jimin takes a step back. Eyes wide. Looks innocently clueless.

“What did you do?” Taehyung repeats. Shows him the bowl which is in his hands now. “You’re stealing my chance to choose a name.” Says as if it’s very obvious. Absolutely ridiculous. Jin was right. They are the most childish adults you’ve ever met.

“Are you fucking seriou- you know what? Go ahead.” Jimin pinches the bridge of his nose. Frustrated. Taehyung pouts for a second before letting it go and going to fish for a second name. He does it more quickly than J. Unfolds a paper swiftly and stares at it while everyone expectantly looks at him. And you swear you see a quirk in his mouth before he manages to hide it. Then regards everyone with a look which he probably thinks is serious. Yet to you, he’s clearly amused. Excited. Is living his life. There’s a glint in his eyes. And so he fails miserably to hide the elation in his voice when he finally speaks.

“It’s Li.” Just as the name leaves his mouth, everything falls silent. No loud chatter this time. No clappings or noises of satisfaction that they didn’t get picked. You feel hot suddenly. Feel the weight of the burning gazes on your skin. You know everyone is looking. Because, it is not okay for you to leave with Jimin considering the history you’ve shared. See now, your friends might have never confronted you about what happened. Might have never even brought the topic up and treated you differently. Still, it’s clear everyone knows what you did- what you’re still doing without their knowledge- was and is wrong. There’s no denying that. You don’t know why everybody decided to forgive you so easily.. It doesn’t matter in the end anyway. What matters is the fact that they’ve given you a second chance. The fact that they’ve not made a big deal and was even cool with the fact that you and Jimin were still close.

This, though, would change that. Surely. Hanging out with Jimin on other times is something else. But, doing it in front of his girlfriend? What kind of a shameless, insensitive bitch would do that.

Oh no!

You should protest immediately. And it becomes certain when a scoff breaks the silence, closely followed by Seoyeon’s voice. “Are you kidding me?” You guess that question is directed at Jin. You don’t hear whether anyone answered that question. Simply you pay no attention to that. Instead, you open your mouth to disagree with the decision. Before you can do so, however, Taehyung rushes to his feet. Storms toward you. Bends down and grabs your arm. And pulls you into your feet. All in the blink of an eye.

“Move your lazy ass, Li. The faster you get this done, the faster we can actually enjoy this trip. Go on. Chop chop.” He turns you around. Toward Jimin, who’s looking at you with a dumbfounded expression.

“No but-” You try again. Just to get cut off.

“No buts. That was a fair game and you lost. Shoo now.” Taehyung starts pushing you forward. You keep your eyes on Jimin, not daring to look at anyone else. You know they are judging. Heavily. They should be. You know Seoyeon and Liya must be ready to burn you down with their intense gazes.

You should really put up a fight. But you feel too awkward and uncomfortable to do that. Being in the spotlight is hard. Taehyung takes leverage in that. Keeps pushing you forward. Almost push you past Jimin. You still don’t dare to look at anyone. Your face is still burning.

They are judging.

So, you just turn your head around to look at that one person, who will never judge you. Catch Jungkook’s wide eyes. He gives you a reassuring smile.

You’re fine.

You turn your head back again. This time toward the man who’s in front of you. His astonished expression has changed into something softer. Is waiting for you. Clearly doesn't give a fuck about what others think. He used to think about that a lot. Which is what made you fall into this pit in the first place. But then if he doesn’t care, then neither will you.

If Jungkook will never judge you, then you won’t care about others doing so.

If Jimin will wait for you, you’ll always walk up to him.

You’re fine.

………………………….

Neither Jimin nor you say anything at all as you walk to his car. You keep the silence intact when he revs the engine and pulls the car into the dusty road. You still keep it that way even when five minutes of your twenty minute drive passes. And you almost become certain that would be the case for the remainder as well. At least, until you hear a soft sound escapes Jimin.

You turn your head to find a grin appearing on his lips. His whole face lights up with it. That’s when you realize that the sound you heard was a soft laugh.

You don’t hesitate for a second before raising your hand and hitting his arm, with a horrendous gasp leaving your mouth. Jimin squeals first at your unexpected attack but then it soon turns into a full blown laughter.

Unbelievable!

“Yah!” You shout. “Don’t laugh, Park.” It does nothing but make him laugh harder.

“Wh- why not?” He manages in between his pretty giggles. Having a hard time concentrating on the road.

“That’s so fucked up. Why are you even laughing?”

“Because this shit is funny, Spring Roll. Tae is my man after all. Can’t believe he just…” He trails off giving way to another laugh.

“Yes he’s a sneaky little shit, you know.”

“Who cares? It’s not like we did something wrong?”

“Haven’t we?”

At that Jimin’s laughter finally dies down. He regards you with a serious look now. “No we haven’t Lil. I don’t even know why Liya is here. But I know that she isn’t here to enjoy herself or to be with me. She’s just here to piss me off. She has something up her sleeve and I don’t like it. She isn’t innocent.” He throws a brief glance at your way. You stare at him expectantly. “She knows we’re- she and I- are not fine. She knows everything. And guess what? She’d still act like nothing wrong. Like she knows nothing. How could someone do that? She’s a woman on a mission, not a woman in love. I’m done with that shit so no, we’re not doing anything wrong.” Jimin accelerates the car with that.

Well, you still don't think it’s okay. Not really. But what’s the difference in the end? You did what you did. You do what you’re doing. Will anything ever change the fact that you’re in love with this man? The answer is simple.

No.

You’re already painfully in love.

…………………………

To regard Liya as a villain makes Jimin awfully guilty. Because she probably isn’t. But when he told you that she was a woman on a mission, he had told the truth. He’s still very much tangled up in this mess without a way out. Kim is a powerful opponent after all. It’s not that easy to flatten a mountain. Especially when he only has a spoon. But he will not just sit back and watch. Not anymore. He really is done. He made a mistake accepting their help in the first place. Choosing the easy way.

So what? People can’t make mistakes? Jimin can’t make mistakes? He can and he should be having a chance to make up for them.

He’s been under this pressure ever since the day he promised you that he’s going to find a way. And your little incident hasn’t helped him either. There’s a lot going on. He really needed an escape. Just for a day. And you both know his type of escape isn’t a camping trip. No. His escape is you. But then it had to be ruined like that. Like this. So, sue him for being happy when he gets the chance to be with you. Blame him for being a shameless asshole. Who cares he said. And certainly he doesn’t. Not anymore.

He won’t tell you what exactly happened. Not because he wishes to keep things away from you but because he’s getting this insane urge to protect you lately. Cover you up in a bundle of blankets maybe. Get you into your Spring Roll state. Keep you in his arms and forget the world around you. Make you live in a bliss where nothing bad happens.

In reality though, he might not be able to do that. Yet he can just let you enjoy this trip. Even with the tension on your shoulders. With your unconscious pout whenever you see Liya or Seoyeon glaring at you. With your longing glances at him. He just wants to make sure you enjoy it.

So, he wouldn’t tell you that Liya has made an unannounced appearance in his office this morning. Just after that shitty meeting. All he wanted was to find a loophole in Kim’s life. What he got was the part he already knew. About the scandal surrounding Liya and her mom. About the woman who was abandoned by Kim so he could marry Liya’s mom. About a shitty past that should be buried for good. Which he all knew, not because he dug into Kim’s life but because Liya trusted him to confide in him. That’s not what Jimin wanted. No. If he brings Kim down that would be through something really bad he did. Not with this. Jimin might be an asshole but he isn’t a monster.

Still he would do his best to win this battle. He’d no longer be the pawn. Which is what he exactly did when Liya stood there in front of his office room with a- very fake- pretty smile. Was apparently there to let him know about an interview. An interview he didn’t know about and was organized to announce their upcoming engagement. Jimin swears he just wanted to say that there won’t be any engagement. But no smart player reveals their hand in advance. So, he had opted into a simple ‘No’. Because he had other plans. Of course, Liya knew what that other plan was. And to Jimin’s surprise she hadn’t made any fuss. Just another smile. And a single line.

‘Okay, I could use some fresh air too.’

That was it. Now she is here. And something feels very off. Jimin can feel it in his skin. A prickling sensation. Yet he won’t tell you about any of that. True both of your moods were ruined the moment Liya stepped out of her car- as much wrong as it sounds. But still, no need of making it even more awful to you. You won’t be that happy to be reminded of the engagement now, will you? Jimin doesn’t know what exactly sends you off.

Are you that jealous?

Maybe. Probably.

And that makes Jimin’s heart beat faster. If you are jealous that means he’s that important to you. Just like he’s jealous of Jungkook because you are that important to him.

He glances over at you for the hundredth time. You are finally loosening up. That scowl leaving your beautiful face. And are finally starting to give in to that smile Jimin oh so adores. There’s no way he’d ruin that. He wants you to keep smiling. Without a care in the world.

Because you are that important to him.

He wants to keep you away from all the hardships and all the blames. Want to take your side when other’s point their fingers at you. Want to make it easy for you. Just like Jin does with J.

You’re just saying that because you are whipped for that woman, Hyung.

Hoseok had said. They all know it is true. Even though Jin hasn’t mentioned anything explicitly, they know he’s whipped. And if Jimin wants to do the same for you……

He wanders his eyes over you once again. This time he gets caught, however. You frown at him. In a playful way. Then smile.

Fuck, he is so whipped for you!

……………………

You unbuckle the seat belt. You’ve reached a supermarket in a small city. Market itself isn't that big but you are positive it’ll have enough water bottles for a couple people. Or twelve people. You place your hand on the door handle, ready to open the door. To get your business done faster. People back at the campsite won’t be happy when you spend a half a day on a task that only takes an hour. Yet before you can, Jimin stops you.

“Lil.” He calls, making you halt your movement and turn to him. Questioning him with a raise of your eyebrow. He doesn’t answer your non-asked question. Instead another smug smile plays across his pink lips as he reaches for the back seat. That’s only when you realize there’s a bag there. How come you’ve not noticed that? Well, it’s very possible because you were so engrossed in the glint in Jimin’s eyes throughout the whole ride. With a bit of a struggle he grabs the bag then sits back on the seat properly. Hands it over to you. You whine loudly in complaint.

“A gift? Again? Why woul-”

“You haven’t even seen what it is. Stop freaking complaining.” Jimin cuts you out.

“It doesn’t matter what it is. It’s still a gift and there’s no reason for you to buy me gifts out of nowhere.”

“Will you please just see what it is first?”

“But this is-”

“Spring Roll!” That’s a stern way to say a name that is used as a nickname. You blink at his face dumbfounded. “Please, see what it is.” He pleads softly. Stark contrasts to the way he called you a second ago.

Well, him bringing you gifts make you more guilty than fucking him or being in love with him. It makes you feel dirty. Like a whore. Like a cheap person. He knows it too. But Jimin doesn’t care. He’s been bringing something with him everytime he visits you lately. No matter how much you complain, he doesn’t listen.

You bet this is a piece of jewellery. That’s what he’s best at giving. You already have a box which started to fill out slowly back in your home. What are you going to do with so many earrings? Especially with ones too expensive you can’t wear them to a frat party or a free drink friday at a club. You huff in annoyance peeking inside the bag and finding a box which is undoubtedly too big for a pair of earrings. Then it must be a necklace. You bring the box out. Throw a sneaky glance at Jimin. He has that amused glint in his eyes.

Weird!

You skeptically pull the carefully placed lid up. Knowing well that there’s something going on. And just as you open the lid your suspicions become true. You are most definitely not staring at a necklace. Or any kind or jewellery for that matter. Instead, you’re looking at a purple device. Curved. Slim. Tiny. Two heads at either side. And there’s a tiny remote beside it as well. You stay staring at the purple thing for an extra minute or two. Then you notice the tiny button on one of the two bulbous heads with a tiny ‘power’ carved under it. And you know exactly what it is. Because of course you do.

A vibrator!

A freaking vibrator!

You feel your face go red. Cheeks burning up. The AC of the car does nothing to cool you down as you snap your head toward a grinning Jimin. He is elated.

“Like it?” Even questions as if he just gifted you flowers.

“Oh my god Jimin… you got to be-” You throw your head up. “Seriously?”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Jimin’s eyes go wide. Yet that grin never leaves his face.

“Are you seriously gifting me a fucking vibrator?” You lean forward, closer to him for more emphasis. He just shrugs.

“Yes, and?”

You hide your face behind your palms. Partially because you’re frustrated but more because you’re embarrassed. Jimin apparently doesn't like that. He removes your hands gently. “Are you blushing, woman?” Tries to peek at your eyes when you turn your face away. He holds your hands tight.

“No, but why would you gift me a vibrator?” You groan, giving up trying to avoid his eyes and looking straight at him.

“You know why, Love. That’s not even a question.” Jimin rolls his eyes. But you almost don’t notice it. Your heart skips a beat. Just as how it always does. Jimin needs to cut some slack for your poor heart. He needs to stop using that pet name. Gives your poor heart hope that he means it. He probably isn't and you know that. That must be just a gentleman thing. He never did that before, though. There comes that question again.

Why?

You don’t get to dig too deep inside your thoughts, however. Jimin grabs your attention by yanking you forward. Brings his face closer to you. Close enough to share a single breath with you. “I brought you a vibrator so I can play with you.” Murmur in such a low voice a shiver runs down your spine. “You know I love to play.” Places a soft kiss on your lips. This time he makes your breath hitch. Now you’re burning up for a whole nother reason. You gulp harshly, heart already starting to beat violently against your rib cage.

“Yeah?” You manage to question nonetheless. Jimin nods. With his- now filled with lust- eyes boring into yours. “And you had no better time to give me this? You thought giving me this while we are on a camping trip with all our friends and making me incredibly horny but not being unable to do anything about it is a good idea?” You whisper against his lips.

“Oh we can definitely do something, baby. And yes this is the perfect time to gift you this because that’s exactly how I planned it.” He lets your hands go. Cups your face instead. Brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. You gasp softly. “You promised some sneaking outs and risky fucks baby. Stay true to your words.” Blows to your lips, making you tremble visibly. Yet you gape at him with wide eyes. This guy can’t be serious, now.

“B-but now Liy-”

“We are alone now, aren’t we?” He places another kiss at the corner of your mouth. And you nearly moan. Jimin keeps his inviting gaze on you. “What do you say? Wanna do this now?” Rubs his thumb over your cheek. You lean into his touch. Close your eyes to gain some strength. Why would you be so weak around Jimin all the damn time? Well, it’s because he is Jimin. You open your eyes back with a sigh of resignation. Nod. “Words baby.” Jimin grumbles.

“Y-yes.” So you hastily stutter.

“You sure?”

“Yes, Park.”

“Alright then. Put that on.” Jimin withdraws from your close space. Giving you the space you need to do as he asked. You, however, just stupidly stare at him for a second time. “What?” Jimin gives you a look of disapproval. You know what that means. He’s into this fully and is already playing. And it gets you dripping when he plays. You gulp harshly.

“Are-aren’t we gonna go and get the water first?” You look behind you at the supermarket. Voice breaking up with nervousness.

“We are.” Jimin answers rather steadily for your likings. Oh you know what he is implying. This guy can’t be serious at all. Yet despite your inner nervous self you can’t help it but squeeze your thighs together, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Jimin. His lust filled eyes grow even darker. You have an exhibitionist inside you and this is time you should accept that.

“And you’re gonna make me wear this inside the store?” You glance at the purple thing. Sitting prettily in its velvet box. You wonder if this is expensive.

“Yes.” Jimin answers rather impatiently this time.

“And are you gonna make me uh… cu..”

“Hell yes baby that's the whole point. You gonna be my little slut and cum-“ Jimin brings his face closer to you again. Nuzzling his nose in your cheek. “Only if you want to though. If you’re not hundred percent down, then we don’t have to do it. But if you want to, you know you can trust me.” Places his palm over your thigh to give it a squeeze.

You tremble once again. Feel that familiar fire inside your stomach, making your core pulse. You both know what your decision is going to be. You trust him. Of course, you trust him more than you should. There’s no way you would say no.

“Fuck!” You exclaim. Giving in entirely.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, I mean fuck, Jimin, you’re so crazy.”

“So what’s new? C’mon put that thing on.” He commands again but doesn’t wait as he takes the vibrator in his hand. “C’mon.” Urges you to take your shorts off. Is he going to put that in you? You feel another powerful twist inside your guts. A tight clench of your hole around nothing. With a simple nod you bring your already shaky hands to unbutton your pants. Quickly as you can. Then after another glance at Jimin for reassurance you pull the piece of garment down. Down, down, and down until you take it in your hands. Together with your panties. “That’s a good girl. Open up now.” Jimin keeps guiding you, disregarding the small whimpers you are letting out. You bring your feets up on the seat.

Car park of the supermarket is pretty lonely save for a few other vehicles here and there. And Jimin had parked the car in a corner. Not secluded but away from other vehicles. You suspect that’s a deliberate move. In the end, it’s not as anyone would witness you. So you spread your legs. Slowly but surely. Putting yourself on the view for him. Like a pretty gift.

“Fuck, baby.” Jimin groans. Puts his hand between your legs. Just a barely there touch on your clit that gets you squirming on the seat. “We need you nice and wet.” He says before taking his hand away, just to put two fingers inside his mouth. You watch in awe at the way he coats those two fingers in his saliva. You are wet to be honest but you’ll let Jimin do whatever he wants with you. You say nothing but mewl when he places those two fingers which are now covered with his spit on your already throbbing clit.

“Ahh… Ji-Jimin…” You buck your hips up. Forward. Into his fingers. Burning up with a new desire. This will never get old. This feeling. The sensation. This fire. It will never die down. It will never get boring. Not with Jimin. He knows you too damn well. Starts rubbing slow but tender circles on your sensitive nub while shifting his gaze between your pussy and your twisted face.

“Yes, princess. Drip, hm? Drip for me.” Mumbles sin in your ear. And you listen. Or your body does. You in fact start dripping within mere seconds of his wet fingers playing with you. Just like he wanted. Nice and wet. Jimin stops his ministrations once he’s satisfied with his works. Drags his fingers up and down your slit to spread the wetness across. Hums in approval. “Gonna put this thing on you, okay, love?” Asks you softly as he presses that power button. Nothing happens. You don’t know how it works. Never owned a toy before after all. Yet you nod in agreement anyway. Jimin brings the vibrator closer to your throbbing core and you have to clench your teeth so hard to stop panting like a bull. You can’t be this affected when this hasn’t even started yet.

How pathetic?

But all your attempts come in vain when one of the cool, tiny, bulbous heads of the toy touches your clit. You reel. Already wanting more and more. And Jimin gives you exactly that. He wastes no time in starting to press the other end of the vibrator inside your hole. You moan aloud. It’s not big enough. It’s too tiny to be precise. You don’t feel full at all. Yet just as Jimin gets the little remote in his hand and presses a button everything makes sense to you.

Oh that’s how it works.

You may not own a vibrator but you certainly have seen enough to know how they look and work. This, though, is something you’ve never seen. It starts vibrating your clit and insides ever so slowly. You know that’s the slowest setting but your breath tangles in your throat. The dual simulation makes your eyes roll. This thing is good. You feel vibrations after vibrations going through your entire body. Gush after new gush of arousals seeping out of you. You clutch the seat for some kind of control as the little toy creates wonders on your clit.

“Oh fuck, Jimin…” You moan desperately. Humping the air and needing more. It’s good but certainly not enough.

“Yeah? You like it?” Jimin mutters in your ear, followed by a kiss. You only nod. Drowning in numbing pleasure. Your brain is turning into a mush. This wouldn’t have been this good if you were alone, however. You know what makes it this good is the man who’s holding the remote. His intense stare and his presence. And you want him to give you more. Instead of that Jimin turns the vibrator off the next second, reducing you into a whiny brat. “No… not yet baby.” He picks up your discarded clothes. “Can’t have you coming too soon. We have to buy some water after all.” His voice oozes mischievousness as he guides you to put your legs back down.

The toy is still securely attached to your cunt. Residues of what happened are still going through your body.

You shiver once again before you finally take a deep breath. Ground yourself to put your clothes back on and get out of the car.

Knowing very well that it’s just the beginning.

……………………

Your original purpose was to buy enough water for you. Such a simple task. But it’s the hardest you’ve ever done. You were distracted the moment you entered the supermarket. Not by any other snack or drink. No. Nothing piques your interest at this moment. Nothing despite the vibrations on your cunt. Again. Even before you figured out where you should look for bottled water Jimin had begun his favorite game.

You snap your head toward Jimin as he presses the remote for a third time now.

You are standing in the noodle aisle. For no specific reason other than walking around trying to find what you are looking for. Unfortunately for you, you weren't able to find it until Jimin turns on the vibrator again.

“Jimin.” You hiss. Trying hard not to squeeze your thighs or bend down.

“What?” Jimin nonchalantly asks as he takes a packet of noodles in his hand after pocketing the remote. You’re at a higher level of intensity now. Not the highest setting but now it’s enough to make you seethe. You look around hastily. You agreed to this. Yes. But now you’re really inside and doing it for real, you feel mortified. There’s couple people inside. Wandering around. There must be cameras. What if you get caught?

“Maybe we shouldn’t. Maybe let’s–” You start only to get cut off with a mewl you, yourself let out when the vibrations intensifies. This time you actually do bend down. Gasping. Crossing your legs. Jimin clicks his tongue.

“You can’t change your mind like that baby. You need to stick to a decision.” His words almost don’t reach your pleasure induced mind when he grabs your arm and straightens you up. “Hm?” Looks at you expectantly for an answer. You don’t even know what he’s talking about. Only whimpering at the tingles between your legs, which makes you forget about the world. “You wanna stop, Lil? You can’t stick to one word?” Jimin asks you again in a dangerously low voice. Feels threatening. Taunting. Adds more fuel to your fire. Yet despite his words you can see that genuine concern in his eyes.

It’s not fair he makes you decide things when you can’t focus. You are partially worried that someone might actually catch you. The pleasure, however, is getting unbearable. Your whole body trembles with the vibrations on your cunt. You can’t see things properly. Don’t even realize that you’ve shaken your head. At least not until Jimin turns off the vibrator again. Edging you for the third time in that hour. You bite into the inside of your cheek to control the helpless cry which is about to leave your mouth. Hold on to Jimin for your dear life since you can’t trust your legs. “Good baby?” Jimin this time asks without that teasing tilt in his voice. Cups your cheek affectionately. You look up at him.

“Yes- yes I mean..” You pant breathlessly. “Holy fuck stop edging me..” Almost hit his arm. Yet he catches your hand swiftly. Pulls you closer to him. Jimin’s eyes go back to glint in amusement. That smug look reappearing.

“Yeah? No edgings? Want to cum here then? While there are other people around? Want to be my little slut and cum in front of everyone?” Whispers. And you exhale shakily.

“Jimin…”

“C’mon, then. Let’s buy those damn water bottles first.” He withdraws from you just to start walking away through the aisles. Dragging you with him. You try to protest which comes fruitful as he effortlessly makes you move with him. Still hot and bothered. Core still throbbing. Trying your best to walk normally with the toy rubbing against your clit with every step you take.

Jimin walks over a few more aisles with his fingers entangled with yours. Here and there. Without interrupting your journey by making you suffer. Until he finally stops in front of the aisle where the products you’ve been looking at are. Then he turns to you.

“How much do you think we’ll need?” Questions ever so normally. As if he hasn’t put a vibrator inside your panties and doesn’t have the remote to it in his hand. You gape at his awfully beautiful face. “Lil?” He urges you when you don’t answer him.

“Seriously?” You take a couple steps forward to stand side to side with him.

“Hm?”

“Are we just- are you?”

Jimin just raises his brow. Smug. Too cocky. You want to wipe that smug look off his face. It’s unbelievable he’s affecting you this much. You love him, of course. But why the hell are you not in any control? Why would you always-

“Oh, you wanted to cum, yes?” Jimin disrupts your trail of thoughts. First by his voice. Then before you can reply to him, with a gentle vibration in your pussy. You close your eyes shut.

Here you go again!

That wasn’t exactly what you wanted to question. Honestly, you don’t even know what you wanted to ask. Were just baffled at how unaffected he is acting. Now, you’re getting distracted. Yet again. The toy massages your throbbing clit and your inner walls, just perfectly. Gentle. Like a soft caress. Just for a few seconds because in the next, it’s no longer a gentle caress but a deliberate touch. Firm. Jimin has turned up the speed. You open your eyes to find him looking at you attentively. Stares right into your eyes. Turns the speed another notch up. Then another. And another. One by one. Into the highest setting.

“Oh, please..” A plea leaves your mouth. You really don’t know what you want. Why are you begging? Is that the need to cum? Or do you want Jimin to stop and take you somewhere else? Whatever it is, you don’t get to sort it out when Jimin steps behind you. Arms wrapping around your figure that is slowly starting to shake. He hugs you tightly. As if he’s trying to prevent that tremble.

“You asked me to stop edging you baby.” He mumbles as he places his chin on your shoulder. “I’m doing just that. Giving what you want. You wanted to cum, so, go on princess. Cum. Cum hard for me. Let’s drench your panties.” He holds you even tighter. You are gasping for air. It feels too hot. Too good. Jimin’s words are making it even better. You squeeze your thighs together as tight as you can. Trying to control the sensation that is going through you. Your mind is completely splitted between the pleasure and fear of someone catching you. Only you though. Jimin doesn’t even seem to be phased at the idea of getting caught. “C’mon, let go.” He drags one hand upward to your breasts. Doesn’t touch it though. Just hoevers it under your boob. Teasingly.

“Jimin, we- we can't… what if-”

He shushes you softly. Steals a kiss onto your neck. “Just trust me. Let go. I’m not stopping until you cum.” Steals another kiss. “Fuck, you look so hot baby.” Another sneaky kiss. You doubt you look any hot right now, however. You are just trying to control your facial expression so even if someone walks in they won’t suspect anything right away. Even if you’ll be on a camera, it won’t look like you’re milliseconds away from falling apart. You’re failing at that miserably. Vibrations on your clit are too powerful for you to do that. All you are able to do is clutch Jimin’s arm tightly and focus on staying up right. Even that is becoming impossible now. You are reaching that high so fast. Every vibration makes your mind hazy and that knot inside your tummy gets tight. Tight and tight. Then out of nowhere it snaps.

You let out a tangled cry as your legs buckle. Jimin holds you tight without letting you fall down. You give up trying to control anything. Your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. Whole body trembling. You fall back into Jimin’s firm body completely.

“Yes. Like that. Fucking hell baby. Shit! Just like that.” Jimin curses low. Gritting his teeth. His grip is so tight on you that you fear he’d break you. “Cum hard for me. You’re such a good slut, you know. My pretty slut.” Rubs soothing circles into your tummy. Aiding you in riding your high. Keeps rubbing until it finally starts to die down. Slowly. Allowing you to see things clearly again. Making you wince in overstimulation since the toy is still working. Jimin picks up your signs of discomfort right away as he switches off it immediately. Yet keeps holding you close. “Are you okay, love?” Inquires gently. You barely nod in response as you take a lungful of breath. Your tenses up body relaxing after the intense orgasm. Or just starting to relax which turns into a complete opposite when you hear the sudden footsteps. Rushed. You almost jump away from Jimin in panic. Looking around you hopelessly to find a place to hide. You might have came already and the vibrator is off now but you’re certain anyone would notice your fucked up appearance.

Jimin, however, doesn’t let you take a step away from him. Instead he turns you around to face him. Pulls you back into his chest. You can feel how fast his own heart is beating. This time his arms don’t wrap around you so tightly. It’s gentle. Like a normal hug. You freeze. He pats your back.

“Oh my, you’re freaking cute, Lil.” Kisses the top of your head. You freeze. Heart pumping. He really needs to stop doing this. Nicknames. Compliments. Soothing hugs. It makes your heart hurt. Bleeding. He needs to stop making you fall for him even more. He does just that. With another gentle kiss. And you hear someone walking past you. And you indefinitely hear a soft coo.

………………………….

You squirm in your seat, impatiently waiting for Jimin to finish up loading the insane amount of bottled water you just purchased, into the car. He takes more than enough time to finally get inside. After your embarrassing orgasm, he hasn’t started anything. Yet. But has promised you more with a dangerous tilt to his voice, just as that someone who came your way at the supermarket walked away. That time he wasn’t just saying it to make you suffer. He wasn’t trying to play anymore. He was aroused. To a point that it leaked through his voice. And it made that dying fire inside you lit up again. Made you want something more when you had a mind shattering orgasm. Now you are dying to have that more he promised to give you.

You look at the man who just sat restlessly in the driving seat. He does the same. Eyes hooded and dark.

“Please tell me you’ll fuck me now.” You burst out before you can process what you just said. Jimin’s eyes slightly go wide before he regains his composure. A slow curse leaving his mouth. He averts his gaze away from you to the outside. Scanning the area. At this rate, you actually don’t care about the place you are in. You just want Jimin to have you. You’re still buzzing from your previous orgasm. Still burning from the need for him. You just need more. More of Jimin. Not just orgasms. You need Jimin. “Please baby, need you.” So, you let him know. Jimin shudders.

“Yeah? Are you fine if I-”

“Yes. Yes.” You don’t let him complete his sentence. Say a loud ‘fuck it’ in your head as you hastily unbutton your shorts for the second time in the day. Start pushing the clothing item past your hips when Jimin stops you.

“Hey, hey! Are you sure, Lil? I know I said that it’s fine but I need you to be hundred percent sure, love. It’s day and there’s other vehicles around.” Jimin peers into your eyes. You on the other hand are already nodding madly.

“I’m sure. Please. Just… god, I need you inside me right now, Jimin. I-”

“Fuck! Okay, get on my lap.” This time Jimin doesn’t let you complete your horny ramble. And he doesn’t have to say it twice. You get rid of your shorts in record time. Put your hand on the toy to get rid of it as well. Just to get your hand yanked away. “Keep it. Gonna fuck you with it.” Jimin clarifies his action briefly before pulling you into his lap. Shifts the seat back to give you more space. You moan at his words which soon turns into a squeal at the sudden movement. Jimin disregards that. Only pays attention to unbutton his own pants and free his hard cock. You know he’s been that way since the very moment he put the vibrator on you. It must damn hurt. Park Jimin is an amazing creature. That much control is truly amazing to you. There’s nothing to be surprised about, though. You’re used to it now.

Jimin pumps his hard cock few times just as soon as he frees it from the tight confines of his pants and boxers. You keep your hips raised to make it easier for him. Watching the way he pumps his pretty cock. Squeezing the base. Making pre cum leak. You watch in awe. Breath hitching and ears roaring. Jimin doesn’t take much time. Put both of your misery to an end. “Sit, princess. Take me in.” Commands you while holding his throbbing length up for you. You nod in understanding as you align your entrance with his tip. Maybe the design of the vibrator makes more sense now. The reason why it’s tiny. You can take a dick in your vagina while it’s still inside and it won’t make it painful. You take him easily. You’ve been dripping a river after all. His bulbous head breaches inside your tight rim of muscles in one swift motion. Making you moan aloud. Making Jimin curse aloud. “Oh, fuck.. So wet baby. Holy fuck! you’re so wet.”

“God Jimin, you fe-feel so-so good.”

Jimin nods as if he’s in a daze. “Yeah?” His nails dig into your thighs. “Yeah? Then take me all the way down slut. Go on. Keep going.” Hides his face in your neck. Kissing and sucking. No biting though. That would be awful to walk back with marks on you. You do as he asks. Take him all the way down. Until you’re fully seated on his lap. Until his hot cock is safely buried inside you to the brim.

You halt in that position. Reveling in the feeling of Jimin inside you. Being so full. Feeling so full. Jimin gives you that minute to bask in the feeling as well. Then he pulls his face away from your neck. Throws his head into the headrest and keeps his eyes on you. Blindly search for the remote. Gives you little to no warning when he pushes that button. Instant vibrations start to massage your clit and your walls. This time though it’s not just you who feel it.

“Fuck!!” You and Jimin both moan in unison. But what gets you shaking is the way Jimin says it. His reddened face. Mouth agape and panting. Oh so utterly fucked up. Losing it to you completely. It would never fail you to feel this intense pleasure, just by looking at the way Jimin is pleasured. It’s like clockwork. What gets you is what gets Jimin. Especially when he doesn’t let it show all the time. He’d be the one to play you. Get you pliant and control you and himself. But there are moments like this. Where he fails to control. Where he shows you that he wants to mound you. You love it. You love the feeling. There’s nothing like this feeling. It’s how it always was. Yet at this moment, you feel it ten times harder. Not just the fullness. Not just satiating your burning desire. No. There’s something else. It makes you want to have everything. You are so greedy for this man. That’s what makes you clench around him tightly. Making Jimin bucking his hips upward involuntarily. Trying to pull you down on his cock even more.

“Holy fuck, Lil. Do-don’t squeeze that hard, baby. I’ll just cum right away.” He whines through clenched teeth. Oh he shouldn’t have said that to you. If anything his voice and words make you do it even harder. Not on purpose, no. You’re completely a goner.

“So-sorry… Fuck, Jimin… I feel like I’m freaking… god…”

“I know. I know.” Jimin slaps your ass slightly. Then molds the soft flesh in his hands. Nods. Licks his lips. “Go on baby, ride me. Have what you want, yeah? Cum on my cock.” Lands another slap. You just give him a firm nod before finally raising your hips a bit, dragging his cock through your pulsating inner walls. Until only the tip is remaining inside. You take a second. Then drops down into his lap again. “Ah yes fuck..” Jimin gulps harshly. His moans are the sweetest melody to you. You want to keep hearing them. So, you do the exact same thing again. Quickly fall into a rhythm. Bouncing on his cock. Up, down, up, down.

Despite his words, Jimin only gives you the control for only a couple of seconds, however. Before you know it, he’s plunging onto you from the bottom. All the while dragging you down as well. You let him. Allow him to use your body as he pleased. Just try your best to match his pace.

Rest of the world doesn’t exist to you at this moment. It’s just pleasure and Jimin. The fact that you’re in a public car park doesn’t even reach the farthest corner of your head. Everything is a blur for you. Only thing that makes sense is Park Jimin. And the pleasure he’s giving you.

“Jiminie…”

“Got you baby. Cum on me, hm? Please? Need you to cream my cock.”

You hide your face in his neck. Drooling. Jimin picks up the pace. Reaching even deeper inside you. Hitting that spot. That paired with the vibrations are making you see stars. And that high is reaching you faster than you can comprehend. Especially when Jimin is pleading you to cum. “C’mon princess, cum for me, please..” He does it once. Then twice. Just as a third ‘please’ leaves his mouth, your body listens to him. You muffle your high pitched moan by biting into his shoulder as your whole body convulses. Thighs trembling. “Yes, yeah… fuck!!! Let go, love.. Like that, cum hard.” Jimin grunts. You do. Cum hard on his cock. Jimin doesn’t stop his thrusting as you do. Not even when your high starts to dissipate and is replaced with oversensitivity. Not even when you start to cry in complaint.

“Ji-Jimin. Too-”

“Please, Lil.” All he does is whimper. This isn’t a angry fuck like the time he intentionaly made you cum in a raw just because he was posessive. No. He isn’t trying to torture you either. You know it. That voice of his is enough to let you know that much. “Shit! I can’t.. I’m close baby… so fucking close, take me, yeah? You can take me. Please..” Jimin holds you pressed against him as he continues to plunge into your quivering hole. Making inaudible gasps escape your mouth.

Oh how you love it when he loses his control. Even if that makes you have to deal with the sensitivity of your cunt. It’s not a problem anyway. All it takes is a couple of thrusts for your pain to turn into a new pleasure. Another bubble of orgasm building in the pit of your stomach.

“God, yes…. I- I..” You pull away from his shoulder to face him. Stutter on your words helplessly. Yet, Jimin understands you.

“Yeah? You gonna take me like a good girl?” Jimin rests his forehead against you. Is panting hard. Breathless. You fall back into a rhythm of bouncing on his cock, matching his thrusts.

“Yes. Yes. Yeah.. Jimin… fuck, need you to cum inside me.”

“I will, baby. Really gonna get you fucking pregnant. Gonna fuck you full of me.” Jimin brings one of his hands to your spent cunt. Presses on your clit over the vibrator. You fall into a state of delirium. Your brain is failing in finding a way to react to such intense pleasure. It’s all too much. There’s that feeling again. You can feel the way how air is charged with something else other than sex. Something is there. Something more. You’ll blame it on your feelings for Jimin. The case is, however, he is feeling it too. He’s not just fucking you for the sake of it. He can’t have enough. You can see it. Feel it. Taste it. He wants you. Just as much as you want him.

Jimin wants you.

The man you are in love with can’t get enough of you.

He is losing himself in you. Your heartbeat is matching with him. You’re sharing one breath. Act as one.

“Cum one more time for me, love.” He breathes out. And you swear what does the trick is that damn nickname. Or maybe the sensation of being wanted so much by Park Jimin. Whatever that is, you fall apart for a third time right at his cue. This time your ears are starting to ring and your vision is turning black. Not for long since Jimin follows you right behind. You have to force your eyes open and come to your senses so you won’t miss that mesmerising sight. His jaw clenched and eyebrows pulled together. Sweet moans which are dangerously close to your name leaving his mouth. His whole body tenses as you feel his length twitch painfully inside you before the hot ropes of cum paints your walls.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck…” You blindly chase his lips to ground yourself. Jimin does the same. Just a messy kiss with lots of teeth and spit. Somewhere in that kiss Jimin manages to turn off the vibrator. He pulls away first, gasping for air. Both of your chests heaving up and down as if you’ve run a marathon. You try to control your breathing as Jimin peers into your eyes. His own laced with concern like how it’s always after every intense sex with him. But you think there’s something else too.

There definitely is.

………………………

Jimin stares at your eyes without blinking. He is just unable to look away. He can’t. You have him trapped inside you. Both physically and mentally. He can’t escape you. He doesn’t want to escape you. He feels free. Relaxed. Even with the struggle for breathing and trying to calm down, he feels relaxed. Cared for. He feels like he is home.

Without even knowing what he is doing, he brings a shaky hand to wipe down your tear stained cheek. You sigh pleasantly. Your thighs are still trembling beside him. Maybe he shouldn’t have done this here. In a place where he can’t properly take care of you after he ruined you. What an asshole he is? His self loathing gets interrupted when you peck his lips quickly. Just as if you know he is blaming himself. Well, Jimin thinks most of the time you do know what he thinks. You are simply amazing. So, he returns a peck as well. Manages to crack up a smile from you.

There’s nothing to be surprised about this anymore. Jimin feels that familiar warmth shoots across his body. The same feral urge to keep watching the way you smile, getting to him. Overwhelmingly so. Oh he prays to heaven that whatever you and he are doing here will work. It has to work. You and he have to find a way. He doesn’t want to go without seeing that smile.

Jimin gulps harshly. Heart beating in his throat. This time it has nothing to do with the sex. Even though his sloppy cock is still buried inside you and you are ever so gently torture him with occasional clenches. Still, that’s not the case for his heart to pump blood extra fast. There’s something else. There was something else. There was something else all the time. He doesn’t know since when, but this isn’t about sex anymore. Sex with you was always great. You have him wrapped around your pinky finger. Yet he felt like floating as he fucked you a few minutes ago. And that wasn’t all about the lust. It was uncontrollable how he wanted you when he had you all to himself. He wanted more, more, and more. To consume you whole. To be his. And here comes the problem. He wanted more of you but not just in a sexual sense. He wants more of you. Just you.

Maybe just more date nights. He wants them to be normal. Not a sneaky date where you have to hide. Wants to be able to bring you gifts without making you feel like a cheap whore. Wants to make you feel like the beautiful woman you are. You deserve all the gifts in the world after all. He wants to walk back to his group of friends with his hands entangled with yours. With nobody there to judge it. With nobody there to point out why it’s wrong. He wants it to be right. Nothing wrong in being yours. Wants to be yours. Just like he wants you to be his.

Like Jin and J. Like Namjoon and Yoona.

He wants to be with you!

He exhales a shaky breath, eyes darting between yours. You are innocently staring back at him. No. Not just innocently. They sparkle. His starry night. And so do they speak. You are looking at him as if he is your whole world.

No. This is not good….

Or it is good….

Jimin feels like he is about to explode.

‘Then what? Do you love her?’ Taehyung had asked him once and he said no. Because that can’t be the case. Because all he does is care. But he cares too much. He always had. And you feel like home. His person.

‘I don’t know if that feeling is love Jimin……….’ Taehyung’s voice echoes in his head.

Love? What a strange word. How does love feel? Jimin thought he knew. He was once in love with Liya. That’s how he believed at least. The thing is, however, he never cared this much. He never wanted her this way. Not fair, yes. But it is what it is. Maybe he was in love with her, in a different way. This? This is new. And if this feeling isn’t love, then what words can he use to describe it.

Love.

Holy fuck.

He is in love.

The reason why he is so scared is because he is in love. That unexplainable feeling he gets when it comes to you, has been love.

He is really going to explode. It’s too much. He can’t keep this feeling bottled up inside.

“Lil-” He breathes. Completely in a trance. He loves you. You hum in response. He doesn’t know what he should do. He probably should go back. Ask you to move away. Then think things through. “I think I love you.” His tongue slips even before his brain can catch up. And everything falls into a deafening silence. Only the distant voices of some people accompany the surroundings. Your eyes go wide. Just as his own do. In realization that he just said that aloud. Out of nowhere. Just like that, he made a confession. The panic arises in Jimin’s throat. You make it worsen when you start to shake your head.

Denial?

Disbelief?

Rejection?

Jimin doesn’t get to figure that out as you start to quickly pull away from him. Scurrying away from his lap. As fast as you can. As if he burns you.

“No Lil- Hey- I-I just-” He tries to stop you but it’s already too late. You’ve practically jumped into the passenger seat. Are pulling your pants up in a record time. Don’t even look at him.

No. No. No….

What has he done? What kind of idiot is he? Who would just say something important like that, out of the blue. Saying it after sex while high with emotions must be normal for other people, yes, but not for you guys. You are not normal. You are in a forbidden relationship. And until now, it was just lust. Or it was supposed to be lust. Then he changes it like that in a heartbeat. Even without thinking of the possibility of what you might be feeling.

You care about him a lot. You get jealous. You look at him with that look in your eyes. You smile at him like he’s the reason for that smile. You bicker with him like you are a married couple with two kids. Still, that doesn’t mean you are in love with him. And he’s an idiot who doesn't know when to shut his mouth.

Jimin’s chest tightens painfully. An unexplainable weight heavy on his shoulders.

You might not ever reciprocate his feelings!

He loves you!

Oh boy he does. Even though it took him more than enough time to just admit it, he does love you. He knows that for sure by how it hurts to think you’ll not love him in return. How else can he explain the pain? He is in love.

But even before he can even figure things out and actually let you feel the way he feels, he ruined everything. Even before he started, he ended things. Now, what? What if you run away? Did he scare you away? No, he can’t afford that now. No, he needs to make things clear. He needs to-

You open the car door.

“Lil-”

You get out.

“No baby, wait!” Jimin feels like his mouth is full of sand. Feels like an invisible hand is choking him to death. It never was this much of a struggle for him to get dressed. Fingers shaking. Almost trips over his own feet as he gets out as well, finally. “Lil, fuck, please.” Jimin hurries after you. Like he is in a dream.

Damn, you are fast!

How did you even walk that long in a mere second. It’s a good thing that Jimin is fast as well. He reaches you with just a few long strides. Only one thing echoing inside his head.

He won’t just let you walk away. He just needs a moment to explain. He just needs you.

“Spring Roll!” Jimin grabs your shoulder to turn you around. You hiss slowly in annoyance as you are forcibly turned around. That fiery look back in your eyes. The thing is, however, the fire is dying down. Is getting replaced by a glossy look. “Lil,” Jimin swallows first to get rid of the sandy taste.

“What?” You snap. Shake off his hand from your shoulder.

“Fuck! Let me just-”

“Let you do what? Explain?”

“Yes… Listen, I didn’t mean to-”

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips. That doesn’t suit you. No. He wants you to giggle like a schoolgirl. Wants you to smile like a ray of sunshine. How did he manage to get you from exactly that to this. “Of course, you didn’t mean it Jimin.” You cross your hands across your chest. Another scoff. Shake off your head. “Course you don’t mean it.” Mutter more to yourself.

“What? Lil?” Jimin furrows as he tries once again to touch you, just to get rejected. He has no idea what you’re talking about.

“For fucks sake Park!” You let your arms fall limp beneath you. This time finally look at him properly. “You can’t just fucking play with me like that. You can’t just call me nicknames, bring me gifts, beg me to stay and all that shit. And you would just confess out of nowhere? And then say you don’t mean it? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Holy fuck! What are you even talking about?” This time Jimin doesn’t give a fuck about you trying to escape his touch. Maybe he does have an idea about where you are going. Well, fair!

Did he just say he loves you and then say he didn’t mean it?

“You shouldn’t joke about things like that. I-I-” You finally give up trying to get away from him. Instead just avert your gaze downward. Voice just trailing off. And that feels like a slap to Jimin.

“I’m not joking. Lil! Will you just let me talk?”

“Then what, Jimin? Do you actually love me?”

“Yes!” That’s fast. Too fast to be honest. Just like earlier, Jimin just surprised himself along with you. It’s fine, though. What’s there to hide anyway. What’s the reason to drag this out? He said what he said and damn did he mean it. “Yes. I do.” So, he starts without letting you butt in again. Without letting you storm away. “I know it’s sudden. I- I’m just, fuck, listen I meant what I said, it’s not that I wanted to drop a bomb on you like that. I’m sorry I did it like that and probably I’m making it worse right now. I’m just an idiot who took so long to realize that I’m in l-love with you. I’m sorry I just told you it like that and I understand if you don’t-”

“Why the fuck are you apologizing so much?” You groan, putting a stop to Jimin’s rambling. Hit his chest slightly with a curled up fist. Look to your side. Eyes welling up. Bite onto your bottom lip. “Where does this even come from?” Mumble so quietly. Yet Jimin hears you. He will always hear you.

“From here.” He grabs your fisted hand, pressing it to his chest. You roll your eyes through the tears. “Okay, that was corny, but hey,” He squeezes your hand to grab your attention. “It was always there. Like I said, it took me time but c’mon, Lil, you know it was always there. I begged you to stay, I brought you gifts, I called you nicknames, I got freaking jealous, I couldn’t even let you go even if it meant to risk the world I built so damn hard.” A sigh escapes Jimin’s lips. “I was so scared of you never coming back, I am still very scared. I did a whole lot of things I would’ve never done. It was always there. Spring Roll, I do love you. Even if you don’t-”

“But what if I do?” You inhale shakily. Jimin feels his heart throbbing. God! “You asked me to stay but I agreed right away, didn’t I? I wanted to stay away for both of our sake but I always ended back in your arms. I never wanted to leave. I was losing my mind every time something happened that made me realize I have to go back. Why do you think I keep wanting to live a life shifting between two worlds? Not belonging to either of them? Why do you think I want to risk everything to find a way to stay.” Tears that have been welling up your eyes finally fall down. Staining your cheeks. “So, please Jimin, be sure you mean what you’re saying.”

Jimin feels thousands of pieces scattered inside him. It’s completely automatic how he pulls you into a tight hug. So lost in you. “I am sure, though. I am so fucking sure.” He mutters into your hair. And you melt into his touch. Jimin keeps you in his embrace for how long he has no idea. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? He could’ve gone days like that if you hadn't pulled away first. Peer into his eyes. Yours still glossy but he can see what’s under that.

Your words can mean only one thing right? You said the same things as him. You want him to be sure because you feel the same right? Jimin kind of knows it. Yet he wants you to say it aloud. It would be nice to hear it fall from your lips. He can’t pressure you, however. He doesn't want to force it out of you. No. That’s not what he wants. So he says absolutely nothing. Just stare back at you. Basking in the feeling. Enchanting. You are so enchanting.

“What are we gonna do?” You finally break the silence.

“About what?”

“About this? We- uh- Jimin we shouldn’t. We shouldn’t have started any of this in the first place.”

“But we did, didn’t we?”

“Look where it got us. What if it really doesn’t work? What if we don’t find a way?”

“We are going to find a way. It is going to work.”

“I’m so scared, Park.”

“It is going to work love. Trust me, hm?”

“But if it doesn’t? I need a plan. I need to know you’ll stay even if we have an expiration date. I want to know what will happen if there’s no way this could work. If this isn’t going to end well-”

“If that’s the case, then we’ll write a tragedy.” Jimin shushes you with a kiss. He gets that you are scared. He is scared. Like you said, you shouldn’t have. This won’t be easy. But he’ll do everything to make it easy for you. Because in the end, he made his choice. To love you. So, even if it hurts, he’ll keep writing the story. Even if it means dying a little every day or a thousand times over, he’ll keep writing the story. Because, at the end of the day, he has always loved you. From the very day you called him a kidnapper. From the very day you called him a pervert. From the very day you called him, Park. Your Park. And he wants you to know it. So, he mutters it once again.

“I love you.”

You nod.

“But I hope we'll write a happy ending.” Say against his mouth.

“I’ll write the ending you want, I promise.”

“I want a happy ending.”

“Then you’ll get a happy ending.”

A small smile appears on your hollow face. Oh, he’d write the ending you want no matter what. After all, you deserve it. He deserves it. He deserves you.

His happy ending……….

..............................................................................................................................

a/n- Leave a note if you enjoyed this one!

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Taglist - @chimmy-licious @graydolan12 @smoljimjim @likemeforme @sugas-baby-girl @canarystwin @jkayy @floboo6 @sunshinenmidnight @fiddlebiddls @unlikelycheesecakeenthusiast @mar-lo-pap @angelicsmilesworld @jimincrystal @datspjm @shakes0peare @butterymin @angellekookie @futuristicenemychaos @minijagiya @anumita-2007 @joulekanitz @llallaaa @fancypeacepersona @annyeongbitch7 @yunki-yunki-yunki

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yoongleboonglepie · 26 days ago

Text

Pechsträhne Masterlist

Genre: Horror ish au, paranormal au, hurt/comfort, slow burn, romance, psychic au, friends to lovers, Mystery, BTS ot7 x reader

Rating: 18+: Keep that in mind as this is at its core a paranormal/heavy theme rooted in history and myth, and some things are emotionally disturbing or spooky (so be prepared for potential gore/violence or scary elements). Read at your own discretion as I will only be putting trigger warnings for things that can pose severe safety risks to those affected. All else, like I said it is a spooky and mystery au.

_________________________________________

Main story,

Chapter 1 - 2/16/2025

Chapter 2- 2/19/2025

Chapter 3- 2/22/2025

Chapter 4- 2/24/2025

Chapter 5- 3/1/2025

Chapter 6- 3/10/2025

Chapter 7- 3/15/2025

Chapter 8 - 3/20/2025

Chapter 9 - 3/28/25

Chapter 10 - 4/6/2025

Chapter 11 - 4/11/2025

Chapter 12 -4/21/2025

Chapter 13- 4/27/2025

_________________________________________

Pieces of Red String for you to Follow if you Dare...

Namjoon Character Moodboard

Seokjin Character Moodboard

Yoongi Character Moodboard

Hoseok Character Moodboard

Jimin Character Moodboard

Taehyung Character Moodboard

Jungkook Character Moodboard

Pinterest Boards

Historical Archives and Notes of Y/n Wörner

Photos of rough outline of the estate (not hotel)

Morse code clues, chapters 7 and up: x x x x x x x x x

Find chapter playlists here:

Spotify

Youtube music

_________________________________________

Do not repost anywhere or steal my writing/story. Thx.

Obvious disclaimer: this is just fiction and not actually about the bts members, they are simply face cards and names here. Enjoy, love you lots.

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jungshookz · 2 months ago

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y/n seems to have everyone wrapped around her finger and to be quite frank, namjoon's unimpressed

➺ pairing; professor!namjoon x y/n

➺ genre; mostly sfw with a little something something at the end!! namjoon is a philosophy professor who suddenly has to share his precious lecture hall newbie professor y/n!! we all know i am a big fan of enemies to lovers/opposites attract and i love it even more when both of them are total nerds!! y/n’s approach to philosophy is so ridiculous and namjoon can’t stand her!! namjoon is so stuffy and y/n can’t stand him!! god damnit just kiss already!!

➺ wordcount; 7.2k

➺ summary; you’re the newest professor joining the university, and all of a sudden, it feels like namjoon actually has someone to compete with for the first time.

➺ what to expect; “Also, please stick to black, blue, and red ink for future note-taking and grading purposes. Pastel purple is not an appropriate colour for a higher education atmosphere. Thank you.”

➺ currently playing on cee.fm; what is this feeling? — wicked soundtrack

»»————- 📚 ————-««

namjoon isn’t a fan of change.

he’s always liked things in a particular way — he only likes notebooks with a seamless, perfect binding for the spines, he only likes ballpoint pens and never gel, he only uses traditional coloured highlighters and none of that strange, pastel-coloured junk, and he only likes to use a sandalwood scented essential oil diffuser in his apartment and his lecture hall

most of his life has been planned out (he planned out how the next twenty years of his life would go when he was ten, and according to this twenty-year plan, he’s pretty on track) and he likes it that way, so yes, he isn’t a big fan of change when it comes to such an important timeline like this

he’s currently a professor at the university he got his phd from, and because part of his twenty-year plan included going from his bachelor’s degree to his master’s degree to his doctoral degree, it means that he’s actually the youngest professor on the staff’s roster (which, again, was part of his plan all along)

he’s been teaching here for nearly two years now and has built a very solid reputation with his co-workers, he’s the school’s most sought-after professor when it comes to his philosophy classes — he teaches three undergrad classes and two graduate classes and every semester they’re always packed and students will always email him to try and get into the class when the capacity is full — and he’s pretty sure he’s getting a raise soon, which is great because he’s been meaning to splurge on a new electric tea kettle that lets you control the temperature and sings a little song when the water’s done boiling

“alright, let’s bring today’s discussion to a close.” namjoon shakes his wrist, checking the time on his watch before nodding to himself — the lecture ends in five minutes, so he’s wrapping up right on time and he’ll be able to grab a coffee and a croissant before his office hours start, “what we’ve explored today is really just a glimpse into the vast and ongoing conversation about how to engage critically with your existence.” he hums, leaning back against his desk as he looks out at the sea of students in front of him, the sound of pen tips scratching on paper and typing on keyboards coming from all over the room

“after you leave class today, i’d like for you to reflect on the choices you make — not just the big, life-altering ones, but the miniscule, everyday decisions.” he reaches up to adjust his glasses on the bridge of his nose, “are they leading you toward a life of purpose and integrity? or are they dictated by external pressures and unexamined habits? we’ll continue this discussion next time, but until then, i’d like you to keep questioning, keep thinking, and keep living philosophically. as always, i have office hours here from 3:30-6 if you have any questions. class dismissed.” he nods, and almost immediately the class breaks into packing up, murmurs rippling through the vast lecture hall

namjoon smiles lightly to himself as he gives himself a mental pat on the back

yet another successful lecture!

he really does love teaching, and he’s so grateful that he’s able to do something that he actually likes for work

shaping young minds is something that he’s always wanted to do, and he thinks he’s been doing a pretty good job as a professor

…

oh, who is he kidding? of course he’s been doing a fantastic job as a professor!

he smiles politely as his students trickle out the door, turning around to grab his wallet out of his backpack

croissant time!

»»————- 📚 ————-««

“hello, are you here for office hours?” namjoon isn’t surprised when he opens the door to see someone standing by his desk, looking around the empty lecture hall, “it actually starts at 3:30, so it would be great if you could come back in fifteen minutes and i’d be happy to answer any questions you have about the lecture.”

“oh, hi!“ you spin around with a smile, and namjoon returns a polite one as he sets his coffee and pastry bag down on the desk, “no, i’m not here for office hours, i’m here to check out the lecture hall for when i start teaching alongside you next week. you’re namjoon, right? i’ve heard so much about you, i’m y/n y/l/n and i’m really excited to start working together-“ you stick your hand out for him to shake and he immediately frowns, glancing down at your hand before looking back up at you with a scoff of disbelief

“teaching… alongside me?” he tilts his head, reaching over to give your hand a shake after a moment of hesitation (it would be rude of him to turn down a handshake, and he has to admit you have a nice, firm handshake), “i’m sorry, what are you talking about?”

“didn’t you get the email? i’m the newest philosophy professor joining the staff-“ you slide your tote bag off your shoulder and pull your phone out, “they told me i’d kinda be shadowing you before they can determine if i should lead my own lectures or not. so i guess i’m a co-professor for now, but eventually i’ll just be a professor. i’ve seen a few of your lectures online, i’m looking forward to working together and-“

“co-professor?” namjoon interrupts, holding his hand out to make you stop talking, “i’m sorry, this is the first i’m hearing of this.” he fumbles for his phone before looking through his email because there’s no way he would’ve missed an email as important as-

okay there it is

yep

he totally missed that

“i see.” namjoon pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, “okay, well… i guess you can just sit with the class and listen to the lectures. i don’t need an assistant professor, but you can help give out handouts or something-“

“well, that would make sense if i was a TA, but i’m not entering this classroom as a TA or an assistant professor, i’m entering it as a co-professor. we’re equals!” you point out, namjoon’s eyes widening when you pull a pen out from your bun and slap a copy of the class syllabus down on his desk

he’s appalled to see that you’ve written all over it, and not only that, you’ve used multiple colours to take notes instead of the traditional black, blue, and red

…pastel purple?!

“i took a look at the lineup you have, and to be frank, it’s a little stiff. your students are drowning in dense readings, and i don’t know about you, but i actually hated reading so much when i was in undergrad-“

“well, that sounds like it’s a you problem, because i liked reading and always appreciated when the professor gave us something dense and enriching to read-“

“why not swap out one of the medieval philosophy lectures for something a little fresher?” you suggest, using the back of your pen to point to the lecture he has planned in a few weeks, “maybe we can do a session on philosophy in science fiction? ooh, ethics in AI might be fun, no? it’s something they can apply to the modern world-“

“philosophy isn’t about chasing trends. it’s about discipline, rigorous thought, and engaging with foundational texts that have shaped human understanding for centuries, professor y/l/n-“

“it’s doctor.”

“what?”

“dr. y/l/n. i just graduated with my phd.”

a moment of silence passes as namjoon processes all of this new information

processing…

“you-“ still processing… “you what? how old are you?”

“you should never ask a woman how old she is, but i’m two years younger than you. and i know that because i actually took the time to look at your profile on the university’s website after getting the email that we’d be working together for the rest of the semester-“

“rest of the-“ namjoon chokes, reaching up to adjust his tie, “okay, respectfully, dr. y/l/n, my whole point is that students have no business calling themselves actual philosophers if they can’t wrestle with aquinas and avicenna-“

“right, because thirty pages of medieval metaphysical debates on the essence of angels is going to determine whether or not a student can call themself an actual philosopher. i’m not saying to abandon the classics, i’m just saying it’s not gonna hurt to throw in a few discussions that’ll make philosophy feel a little more… alive to them!”

namjoon resists the urge to roll his eyes as he takes a seat at his desk, keeping his eyes glued on the scribbles all over your copy of the syllabus

there’s no way he’s gonna work with someone who thinks pastel purple is an appropriate colour to use when taking notes

he reaches over to grab his coffee, taking a sip and-

his coffee is cold

he waited too long and now his coffee is cold, and he would’ve been drinking perfectly lukewarm coffee if it weren’t for the fact that you came and disrupted his whole schedule like this

“anyway, i’m open to discussing spicing up the syllabus once you have the time. i don’t want to take up any of your office hours, i know you probably have students lined up outside already-“ you fold the syllabus back up into four squares before tucking it away into your tote bag (namjoon is once again appalled you don’t have a folder for your papers and seem to have based your organising system off mary poppins’ purse), “but it was really nice meeting you, dr. kim. you have my phone number and email when you want to arrange a meeting.”

“…right…” namjoon trails off, and for the first time is rendered completely speechless and doesn’t know what else to say

all he knows is that there’s no way in hell he’s going to allow this co-professor business to happen.

»»————- 📚 ————-««

you let out a breath as you shut the door behind you, your shoulders finally slumping

you hated that whole interaction

you can already tell that working with namjoon is going to be a pain in the ass

you’d heard some things about him — you’d heard about how great of a lecturer he is and how he genuinely cares about what he’s teaching and what his students are learning from him, but you’d also heard that he was pretty stuck in his ways and not… super cooperative, which you already saw first hand

at the same time, you had to admit that that was a quality that both of you shared — you’re not exactly a fan of being co-professors, you’d much rather just take the reins and lead the class yourself while namjoon sits off to the side, but you are the new one around here and you do want to be liked

so you can play nice for now, because the most important thing you’re focusing on is securing your place as an official staff member and making a great first impression on your new co-workers and your new students

you’d prefer for namjoon to like you, but he seems to be a tough nut to crack

the both of you should at least try to get along, and you’re willing to do that as long as he’s willing to meet you in the middle

so… let’s just hope he’s willing to meet you in the middle

your phone buzzes in the back pocket of your jeans and you pull it out, surprised to already see a text from namjoon

okay

this is great!

the fact that he’s already opening a line of communication is a good sign, maybe this semester won’t be hell on earth after all

the smile on your face slowly disappears when you finally get around to reading the texts, your eyebrows knitting together instead

Hello, Dr. Y/L/N. This is Kim Namjoon. Please save my number so that we may communicate with each other if needed. The semester has already begun, therefore I don’t think there has to be any changes made to my syllabus. We do not need to discuss this topic any further. Thank you.

you don’t even get a chance to really process his text before another one pops up

Also, please stick to black, blue, and red ink for future note-taking and grading purposes. Pastel purple is not an appropriate colour for a higher education atmosphere. Thank you.

»»————- 📚 ————-««

namjoon sighs to himself as he makes his way up the brick stairs to enter the philosophy building, reaching up to adjust his tie

for the first time ever, he’s running a little behind (only by like, three minutes, he’s not that reckless) but it’s only because he spent the earlier portion of the afternoon speaking with the department head and practically pleading them to change their minds about this whole co-professor situation

he’d gone into the office with many good arguments tucked into a neat little powerpoint presentation

for example, he doesn’t need a co-professor because he knows what he’s doing and you would only slow him down

also his students consistently have high grades and his classes are always packed each semester so there’s no issues with consistency or lack of interest

sure, philosophy can be a stiff subject to work with but he thinks he’s done a great job at teaching it and upkeeping enthusiasm

the point is he doesn’t need you, and if anything you should just be teaching your own class and the students who don’t make it into his class can all go to you!

(maybe he shouldn’t have made that last comment, but it’s true.)

but of course, because luck wasn’t on his side, his presentation didn’t convince the department head to change his mind

apparently you were a “great addition” to the staff and that namjoon should feel lucky he gets to work alongside such a “smart, well-spoken young professional” who is “just as good at teaching as he is”

ridiculous

totally ridiculous

what’s even more ridiculous is the fact that you seem to have become a fan favourite despite only being here for literally a week

your mug is already right next to his in the cupboard in the professor’s lounge

it’s clearly a handmade mug you probably made at one of those pottery places because the edges are a little bumpy which makes it wobble a little when you put it face down

the outside is an eggplant purple and the inside of the cup is painted a shade of sage green and it looks like a child would drink chocolate milk out of it

his mug is sensible and professional

it’s plain white with his initials on the front printed in times new roman

everyone knows it’s his mug and there’s never any confusion

he even heard a rumour about one of the spare rooms in the philosophy department being cleared out for a new office for you if things work out

and yes, he has his own office already, but he just thinks everyone is being a little hasty clearing out an office space just for you

he can’t even imagine how you’d decorate the space

you’re probably one of those people who have little trinkets everywhere and you’ll probably have like a miniature pool table on your desk to play with

he shudders as he thinks about having to sit in oversized beanbag chairs instead of actual chairs

“alright, alright, alright!”

namjoon’s surprised when he opens the lecture hall door to an unusually bustling room, the students chatting animatedly as they flip through their notebooks

the air is alive with the rustling of papers, clinking of metal water bottles, and the occasional burst of laughter and he frowns as he sees a few of them leaning forward enthusiastically compared to the usual scene of them scrolling through their phones or talking to each other

he turns his head and sees you at the front of the room, perched casually on the edge of the desk twirling a purple pen between your fingers before shoving it into your bun, “now, something a little controversial...” you pause dramatically, “red ink for grading. ethical, or a crime against student morale?”

namjoon’s jaw immediately clenches as he rolls his eyes — obviously this has something to do with the text he sent you the other day about your ridiculous coloured pens and your little ego’s been bruised and that’s why you’re being bratty

but whatever, because if anything this is just proving his point — you’re an immature little kid totally unfit to be his equal! and he’s more than happy to let you make a fool of yourself in front of his students, so sure, go ahead and talk about your little purple pen for all he cares

the room erupts in laughter and groans and namjoon silently makes his way over to the front to join you, pulling his chair back to see that you’ve already put your backpack down on it

he picks it up and plops it down on the ground, using his foot to kick it under the desk before taking a seat and hanging his backpack on the back of the chair

“i always feel like i’m being yelled at when i see red ink!”

“exactly!” you laugh, sliding up to sit on the edge of the desk with your legs swinging slightly, completely blocking the class from seeing namjoon, “it’s psychological torture. red ink doesn’t just mark mistakes, it screams them. it’s aggressive. but what about if i used green? or pink? or… pastel purple? would you feel a little different about your grade?”

“it would feel… friendlier?”

“friendlier, right?” you grin, tapping your temple as you look out at the room of enthusiastic students, “then here’s the real ethical dilemma, kids — if something as small as ink colour affects how we perceive feedback, then what do we think that says about bigger, more serious choices? if we can reframe an experience with something as simple as colour, then what other biases are shaping the way we see the world around us? something to think about...”

“are you just about done, dr. y/l/n?” namjoon raises an eyebrow, tapping his fingers against the desk as he leans back against his chair, “because i’d like to get started with class now, if you’re ready to go.”

“ah! dr. kim, sorry — i know you usually like to start your classes with a silent ten minutes of quiet reflection of last week’s lecture, but i figured i’d warm up the class myself since this is my first day as co-professor.” you chirp, sliding off the desk before turning to face the class again, “very lovely to meet you all and i’m looking forward to getting to know each and every one of you as we progress with the semester!”

“kiss ass.” namjoon coughs into his fist quietly, getting up from his seat before smiling warmly at his students, nudging you aside with his hip before clapping his hands together, “alright, class! medieval philosophy, let’s get into it…”

you immediately roll your eyes when you turn to face away from the class, taking a seat next to the desk and crossing one leg over the other

he’s just jealous because the students clearly like you more and you’ve only been here five minutes

but if this is how he wants to play, then you’re more than willing to play along.

»»————- 📚 ————-««

namjoon finds that the simplest things in life bring him the most pleasure

a hot cup of black coffee, the perfect scent of sandalwood in a room, the feeling of cracking the spine on a brand new notebook…

but most importantly, a perfectly toasted buttery flaky croissant from the cafe on the bottom floor of the philosophy building

he’s eaten these croissants ever since he was a student here, and he always has a croissant after he teaches classes here on tuesdays and thursdays — it’s like a reward!

“what do you mean there are no more croissants?!” namjoon slams both palms down on the counter, pulling away immediately when he feels that the surface is a little sticky

gross

“sorry, namjoon!” hoseok shrugs, “i just sold the last croissant to- actually, i think you know her, she said she’s the new professor in the philosophy department-“

you.

“i know who you’re talking about.” namjoon grits his teeth, looking at the pastry case for anything else that might satisfy his midday sweet treat craving but he doesn’t want a stupid sea salt chocolate chip cookie or a raspberry white chocolate scone, he wants his plain buttery croissant that you probably only bought to spite him!

“yeah, her!” hoseok grins, setting namjoon’s coffee down on the counter, “she’s really nice, isn’t she? she said she likes the way i do my leaf design on her caramel lattes, no one’s ever complimented my leaves before- it just feels so nice to be appreciated for once-“

“no!” namjoon snaps, pointing a finger at hoseok, “you have to stop yourself from being charmed by her, it’s all an act and- and- next time she asks for a latte, you should do a giant- a GIANT frowney face-“

“well, i don’t think i’m going to do that but-“ hoseok frowns when he notices a vein starting to bulge out namjoon’s forehead, “hey, you seem a little tense! how about a cookie on the house?” he asks, using his tongs to pick up the sad-looking cookie before putting it in a paper bag for namjoon, “it’s just a croissant, namjoon. i know you like ‘em every tuesday and thursday but if it makes you feel better i’ll save you one on thursday! it seems like both of you guys like croissants so i can definitely save two of them-“

the both of them look over to where you’re sitting by the window with his croissant while you flip to the next page of whatever stupid book you’re reading, and namjoon’s gaze doesn’t waver in the slightest when you look up and over at them

you smile brightly, raising the croissant in the air a little before taking a massive bite out of it, rubbing your stomach and nodding your head exaggeratingly

namjoon’s eye twitches and he turns back to look at hoseok

“it is not just a croissant and you know that, hoseok-“ he snatches the cookie from his friend before shaking his head in disappointment, “she is a siren and you are a helpless, weak little sailor-“

“hey! what the hell, man?!”

“WEAK little sailor!” namjoon exclaims as he storms away, angrily shoving the cookie into his mouth and wiping crumbs off with the back of his hand sloppily

»»————- 📚 ————-««

“tae, have you seen my mug?” you frown, taking a few steps back to see if you can get a better view of the second shelf, “i usually have it on the first shelf but i can’t find it anywhere…”

“is it not there?” taehyung — he’s the janitor here and you guys got along pretty quickly — hums, setting his mop aside before walking over to join you by the cupboards, “i swear i saw it there this morning, that’s odd. i’ll keep an eye out and let you know if i see it anywhere. you sure you didn’t leave it in your lecture hall?”

“no…” you trail off, shutting the cupboard doors gently with a sigh, “hm. i’m sure it’ll pop up somewhere. thanks, anyway…”

you like to think that you’re a pretty chill person, but there’s just something about misplacing something that really irks you

because then you start thinking about when the last time you saw the missing object was and then it turns into a spiral of how you could be so careless and irresponsible and lose something and also it makes you anxiously think about someone else using something that belongs to you and only you

that’s your good luck mug!

you made it at a colour-me-mine in freshman year and you’ve used it ever since

you’re convinced it has some kind of magical power because the mug always happens to be there when you get good news

it was there when you got accepted into your graduate program, your doctoral program, and it was literally in your hands when you got the email from the university accepting you as a new professor

so… hopefully it does pop up somewhere

you used it yesterday after class and you remember washing and drying it immediately before sliding it back on the shelf

you chew on the corner of your lip as you push open the door to the lecture hall, your eyes widening when you see namjoon standing there taking a sip from your mug

you open your mouth to say something but he immediately brings a finger up to his lips to shush you — the class is having their silent time and the last thing you want to do is cause a scene, right?

“that’s my mug.” you whisper through gritted teeth, and namjoon moves his hands to the side quickly when you reach up to try to snatch it out of his hands, “you have a stupid, boring mug already-“

“oh, but your mug is so much fun!” namjoon grins, taking another sip of water from it

(it’s actually killing him having to drink from this cursed vessel. why are the edges so bumpy?! how do you drink from this stupid thing without dribbling all over yourself?!)

“it is on, dr. kim.” you hiss, forcing a smile on your face when a few students look up from their desks, “it is so on.”

“hm.” namjoon clears his throat quietly, the two of you standing side by side with your arms pressed together, “bring it, dr. y/l/n.”

»»————- 📚 ————-««

the next few weeks seem to go by like a blur — maybe because you’re actually having a good time teaching the class and slowly growing more comfortable being a professor (you agreed to stick to namjoon’s syllabus only if he allowed you to teach your ethics of AI lecture) but also because this rivalry between the two of you seems to be keeping you on high alert

after the croissant and the mug incident, the two of you only continued to one-up each other

you replaced the sandalwood essential oil in the lecture hall with a refreshing peppermint (and you really doused it in the machine so it would take multiple cycles to be fully flushed out) and in response namjoon bought the entire jug of caramel syrup from the cafe so you’d be forced to pick another flavour

and then you took all of namjoon’s sensible coloured whiteboard markers and replaced them with bright, fun ones forcing him to write in a fuschia pink and in response namjoon bought all fifteen croissants that day which felt kind of dramatic but at the same time you can’t help but kind of respect it

whatever

all you know is that you despise kim namjoon

every morning when you wake up, you’re thinking about how else you can terrorise him besides just taking the last croissant in the display case

every night before bed, you’re thinking about how else you can make fun of his stupid powerpoint presentations and you even considered hacking his laptop and adding fun transitions to his powerpoints to throw him off

he hates fun transitions

with that being said, you’re willing to put the fight on pause because today is an important day — it’s your first time leading a lecture! you’ve been prepping for this ethics in AI lecture and you’re more than excited to show the class (and namjoon) what you’re capable of

and if all goes well, you will be rubbing this success in his stupid, handsome face.

“handfphome?” you blurt out, toothbrush hanging out of your mouth as you blink at yourself in the mirror

oh no

you don’t actually think he’s handsome, do you?

well, there was that one time he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and when he turned around you couldn’t help but notice how broad his back was

and that other time you were looking at his hands when he was pointing to something on his stupid powerpoint and you couldn’t help but think that he had such pretty hands

and also he always smells really good — like a combination of smokey sandalwood and his natural musk

and when you listen to him speak it’s really soothing because he has a deep voice that kind of makes you feel like you’re floating on a cloud being rocked back and forth

he’s also very intelligent and incredibly well-spoken

highly educated, charming in his own weird way (not with you, but you’ve seen the way he interacts with other professors), kinda funny sometimes, and you only know he’s single because you overheard two students whispering about it in the hallway — apparently they’d done a deep dive of his socials and there was no partner to be found, his instagram page was full of pictures of plants and quotes from philosophers

so basically he’s a hot single nerd who’s really into philosophy and plants and you guys are only two years apart and hypothetically if you didn’t know each other and you saw him at the bar you would probably feel a little flustered if he flirted with you

and maybe one time you watched him apply chapstick onto his plump lips and you wondered if they were as soft as they looked

…

you take your toothbrush out of your mouth, your eyes widening in realisation and-

“son of a BITC-“

»»————- 📚 ————-««

“would you let AI decide whether you get a loan? a job? parole? surgery?” you pause, letting the weight of the question settle over the students, “i know, it’s a crazy question. but maybe you already have… algorithms are making these decisions right now — sorting resumes, predicting crime, even diagnosing illnesses. AI is everywhere, and the question isn’t whether it should exist, it’s whether we should trust it…”

the only reason why namjoon is cooperating today is because you’ve (sort of) cooperated with his syllabus over the last couple weeks despite being a total menace to him personally

yes, he’ll let you teach your ethics in AI lecture today because he’s interested in seeing what points you’ll bring up today

he can also tell you’ve been really nervous about leading your first lecture and he still remembers how nervous he was when he was in your position, so he’ll take it easy on you

he caught you practicing your intro in the professor’s lounge and he slowly backed out so that you wouldn’t see him

and he’ll never say this to your face but from the intro alone it sounds like a pretty promising lecture

and it was kind of cute seeing you fumble with your cue cards and going over your lines with your eyes shut

namjoon leans back against his chair as he listens to you speak, keeping his eyes on the back of your head as he crosses his arms over his chest

sure, maybe you’re more than immature when it comes to buying his croissants and replacing his scented oils, but…

oh god

does he respect you as an educator?!

he pauses for a second to think, watching as you reach up to fiddle with a button on your shirt nervously

also you actually dressed up today compared to your usual attire of a sweater and jeans and namjoon can’t help but notice that your ass looks really round in that pencil skirt

he tilts his head slightly as his eyes continue staring at you from behind, the ooga booga man part of his brain wondering how it’d feel to grasp your waist and cup your ass as he-

oh no

he feels his dick twitch in his boxers and he clears his throat quietly, looking down at the desk and focusing on a speck of dust instead

what is this feeling?

he’s pretty sure he hates you

and he’s pretty sure you hate him, so it doesn’t make sense for him to suddenly be thinking about how sweet you smell and how pretty your smile is and how funny it actually was for you to buy the last croissant just to get on his nerves

nope

you guys don’t like each other!

that’s how this works!

you just came in here and totally messed up his flow and you just expect him to go along with it but he refuses to do that and after this semester is over he hopes they stick you in another building far, far away from him

he doesn’t need anyone messing with his routine, and especially not some hotshot professor who just got her phd

“now, some of my less adventurous colleagues-“ you step aside to reveal namjoon, and namjoon feels his jaw twitch when the class laughs lightly after you gesture to him, “would tell you that AI is a dangerous pandora’s box, something that we should fear. and sure, it’s got its problems… bias, accountability, control. but let’s not kid ourselves — human decision making isn’t exactly perfect, either. AI didn’t invent discrimination, it just inherited it from us. so can we teach morality to something that doesn’t feel?”

“AI is a threat to ethical stability. we’re delegating moral decision-making to machines that lack genuine understanding, consciousness, or accountability.” namjoon butts in, standing up from his desk with a scoff, “how can we trust algorithms with decisions that affect human lives when they can’t even grasp mortality in any meaningful way?”

you look at him, slightly surprised that he’s interrupted you this early in your lecture for a debate

but sure, you’ll give it a go — the two of you haven’t actually debated over a subject before and you’re down to totally humiliate him in front of the class

“dr. kim is a great example of what sounding like a doomsday prophet is, class.” you smile sweetly, fluttering your lashes at namjoon as the class breaks into a few giggles and chuckles, “AI is a tool. nothing more, nothing less. it doesn’t need to ‘grasp’ mortality than a calculator needs to ‘understand’ math. the ethical responsibility lies with us! blaming AI is like blaming a knife for stabbing.”

“that’s a dangerously naive view, dr. y/l/n!” namjoon laughs, the two of you staring each other down as you stand at opposite ends of the desk, “AI systems are already making high-stakes decisions — these systems inherit biases from their training data and can operate in ways even their own creators can’t explain. if we don’t impose strict ethical guidelines, we’re ceding control to forces we barely understand-“

“you’re acting like we’re summoning some digital god that’ll enslave us all! AI doesn’t have agency — instead of fearing it, we should focus on improving transparency and fairness in these systems. ethics in AI isn’t about rejecting technology, it’s about guiding it responsibly-“

“guiding it-“ namjoon can practically hear his heart thumping in his chest as his frustration rises inside him, “guiding it responsibly?! and what happens when corporations prioritise efficiency over ethics? what- what about when governments exploit AI for mass surveillance? when biased training data leads to systemic discrimination? you’re placing blind faith in a system that rewards profit over morality- you’re playing a dangerous game, dr. y/l/n, AI isn’t just another tool, it’s a tool we may not be able to control. and your reckless optimism makes you too eager to hand over the reins-“

“maybe you just don’t like that i’m willing to embrace the unknown!” you throw your hands up into the air before pointing an accusatory finger at him, “maybe that unsettles you because you have everything planned to a ridiculous degree, like the temperature of your coffee and what time you eat your croissants-“

“what unsettles me is your inability to take this seriously!” namjoon presses his lips into a firm line, feeling his face heating up, “you act as if ethics in AI is some intellectual playground when in reality, it has life-or-death consequences-“

“oh, i take it very seriously, dr. kim, i just don’t think fear is the right response. fear clouds judgement, and i think you just like to have an insane amount of control over things-“

“well, excuse me! someone has to have control, someone has to make sure we don’t create something we can’t contain-“

“you always think you can contain things, don’t you?”

“and you always think you can push boundaries without consequences!”

“you’d be surprised how many boundaries can be pushed safely, dr. kim.”

there’s a beat of silence between the two of you, the air heavy with something that doesn’t feel like loathing, but rather…

you pause, remembering all of a sudden that the students should be debating with each other instead of watching their professors do it

“uh-“ you turn back to face the class before letting out a chuckle, “let’s take twenty minutes to discuss this subject with the person next to you! dr. kim and i have to re-evaluate the structure of today’s lecture, please pardon us-“

the class breaks into discussion and both you and namjoon exchange glares as you head towards the door

the two of you stumble against each other and get caught in the door for a second, both of you wanting to be the first one out to lead the way

“oh, get off me-“

“you get off me!”

“what is your problem?!” you snap as soon as you leave the lecture hall, heading straight for an empty classroom nearby, “you’re supposed to let me lead this lecture, today was my day and you just couldn’t help yourself!”

when the hell is this going to end?!

there’s no way the both of you can work together if he’s going to get this heated in a debate

and sure, he made some really good points and the nerd inside of you is saying that that really good debate session might as well been some form of foreplay but that’s beside the point

“oh, please.” namjoon kicks the door shut behind him, “all we did was get into a debate, you should be glad i participated at all-“

“you know what, i actually do know what your problem is.” you whip around, jabbing a finger into his (firm) chest, “you’re just a little man who’s threatened by me because we both know i can do your job just as well — or honestly, even better than you can, and this is the first time you’ve had any sort of competition. i’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but you just have to accept the fact that i’m going to be here and i’m sticking around for a long, long-“

“i’m going to kiss you, and if you don’t want that to happen, then tell me now and we can go back to the classroom and i’ll sit there quietly for the rest of your lecture.” namjoon interrupts, and your eyes widen as your breath hitches in your throat

“wha-“ your voice cracks and you feel your face flush, “you- i’m sorry, what?”

“you heard me, y/n.” namjoon looks down at you, and you’re half expecting him to quit the act and say that he’s just fucking with you, but… “so what’s it going to be?”

a moment of silence passes and you feel your thighs press together slightly when namjoon reaches up to loosen his tie slightly, his chest falling and rising in heavy breaths, “funny. you’re so quiet all of a sudden.”

“i…” your lashes flutter as you stare up at him, “fine. you- we-“ you straighten your posture, trying your best not to show how flustered you actually are, “but make it quick because i have a lecture to-“

without another word, namjoon closes the distance between the two of you and in one fluid motion, presses his lips against yours and now you can finally confirm that his lips are as soft as they look

you grip the front of his shirt to pull him closer, deepening the kiss with a fervor that matches the intensity of your back-and-forth over the last few weeks

your lips move against each other’s as namjoon’s hands slide around your waist to pull you in even tighter, his body pressing against yours as if he can’t get close enough

you’re breathless when the two of you eventually pull away, your cheeks flushed and your heart thumping wildly in your chest

“this better not be some weird prank-“ you manage to blurt out, head still spinning from what was a very, very good kiss, “because i’m petty enough to call the catering company and tell them to nix the croissant deliveries entirely-“

namjoon laughs, leaning down for another kiss — this time softer, more deliberate — before pulling away with a playful eye roll

“we’re gonna go back in and you’ll finish your lecture, and if you’re free tonight, i’d love to take you out for dinner.” he murmurs, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was being a little shy

it’s cute

“i’ll go out with you… on one condition.” you hum, reaching up to adjust his glasses for him

“hm?”

“next week you let me lead a lecture on examining the moral dilemmas faced by superheroes in film and comics — like how batman has a no-kill rule and-“

namjoon immediately groans as he turns and heads towards the door, “oh my god, you are infuriating-“

“what?! it’s a good subject!”

🎙️ ask y/n about her thoughts on the nature of consciousness (talk to my characters!)

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to yoongi and y/n in la vie en bonsai!)

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)

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kosmosguk · 10 months ago

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Lineage (M) | Special Chapter: How It Began

Pairing: Duke Yoongi x Princess Reader

Word Count: 4.4K

Summary: When an engagement locks you, the 8th and forgotten princess, to the duke infamous for his cruelty, you find yourself counting the days until your inevitable death. It’s terrifying to think of your end, but when you arrive at his territory, you realize there’s a more morbid reason behind your marriage, and that the duke is much worse than the rumors have painted him out to be. But many years before the events of Lineage's main story takes place, there was once only the love of a beloved goddess and a damned demon.

Warnings: HEAVY yandere themes, death, gore and death, near-death experiences, obsessive behaviors, manipulation, mentions of smut, 18+, explicit language

A/N: Surprise, everyone! It's been, what, 4 years since I finished Lineage and 3 years since I stopped writing on this blog. I've been through a lot of ups and downs in the meantime (to underplay it), but I'm now in a pretty good spot. I've thought about writing this for years and there's probably at least 10 incomplete versions of this on my old laptop, but writer's slump was a huge barrier. It wasn't until a conversation with a roommate who had complained that a fic she liked was never fully fully complete that I thought about trying again, from scratch, to complete this part for Lineage. Lineage will always be my baby, and on a reread of it to prepare to write this chapter, the me of the past did do better than expected (probably better than the me of today). I don't know if any of my original readers are still here from the days when I was active on this blog, but even if it's just one, I hope I brought this story alive just a little longer. Will I write the epilogue though (which also has 10+ incomplete drafts)? We'll see :) Hopefully it won't take another 4 years!

A beautiful clearing stretched on underneath the heat of a sun that always remained warm. It was green and lush, but void of any budding blooms. There were bits of dried flowers that showed that there might have been flowers once, which had blossomed as quick back then as rain drops fell from the sky. This clearing was eternal, and it could only be changed by the touch of a being blessed by the divine or damned by the evil.

A man, cloaked in black, bent down into the clearing. There was only one more bloom now that still remained, a reminder of a time that seemed distant and far. It was hard to pick out from the shadows that spread from his feet, but he restrained the shadows until the yellow flower could tentatively peek out through the green.

It was time now. He could bring her back. She would fill this clearing with flowers again like she did before, and she would laugh as he clumsily wove together a crown from them.

He plucked the flower out of the grass and pressed it against his lips tenderly. It shriveled and dried up, leaving a colorless husk. He let it flutter out of his grasp and looked up at the sun for the first time in his existence.

"I will bring you back," he promised then. His voice sounded like he had not spoken in many years. He pulled out his sword and pierced it into the grass, watching the green shrivel into gray.

In the glint of his sword, there was a reflection of a young maiden, her fists kneading against a ball of dough. When she moved slightly, nudging the hair off of her shoulders, a hint of red was seen on her skin.

You were born in a field of flowers, blooming beautifully underneath a sky lit with gold. The daughter of the God of Life and the Goddess of Creation, you were beloved by all beings who relied on the earth to live. You, who had lived under the protection of all who was Good, were woefully ignorant of the true darkness of those who lived in the shadows of Evil.

But then on a peaceful day, not unlike the day you had been born, you realized then how easy it was for Evil to creep into the realm of the Good.

“Wake up, my goddess!”

You flinched, peeking your eyes open to the Fairy of Tulips pulling the hem of your tunic with her small fists. “I am sleeping, Little Tulip. Only official orders will wake me.”

The sun was warm against your skin, and the clarity of your mind was still soft from the blurry haze of sleep. Though deities had little need for sleep, your habit of naps was known far and wide through the Creators’ realm. You tried to close your eyes again, nestling back into the bed of grass, and brush her off your clothes, but she clung onto your palm, chomping on your thumb. You yelped, now wide awake.

She squinted down at you, fluttering up off your palm, and placed her hands on her hips, the sunrise tulip petals adorning her body swaying in her frenzy. “The flowers have been murmuring that there’s evil nearby! We have to leave. Now!”

You laughed. Evil? Evil had not existed in this realm for many eons, after the War ended with victory of the Good. But when the little fairy’s expression didn’t show a hint of amusement and the muttering of the flowers around you remained, you frowned and pushed yourself up to stand.

“If you are certain of evil, then I will bring myself to check it out. It would not do any of us good if I left the situation unchecked, as we are by the border of the realm.” You stepped forward, flowers blooming underfoot to soften your path. The little fairy tugged at your clothes, hoping to stop you, but you kept walking further away from the clearing you had been lazing in towards the forest by it. Instead of the welcoming lush green that usually greeted you, the forest was coated in darkness.

When the muttering of the flowers pitched in volume, you knew you were getting close. You placed your hands out, ready to call for nature’s aid if the situation called for it. However, instead of some vile creature looming over you with venom oozing from its pores, a young man laid in the midst of the darkness. A closer look prompted a gasp to leave your lips. He was beautiful, more beautiful than any deity you had ever seen, and if you had not been entrenched in shadows, you could have been fooled to believe him holy. But the oozing black blood from the wound on his side and his eyes, which flickered open to glower at you, were a startling red.

He scooted back, his free hand falling to the blade by him.

“I will not hurt you!” you spoke before you could process the thought, mesmerized by the sight of his eyes. You showed him your hands. Your eyes dropped to the curve of his lips, which if it had not been pulled in a sneer would have been lush and have softened his features. “I am a healer and a grower, not a killer.”

His expression decreased in hostility. You hesitatingly asked: “Is it alright if I come close? You can keep your sword by you, and if I do anything unpleasant, I will understand if you slay me but...” You teetered for a moment. “But if you kill me, I cannot ensure your safety and that would be bad for you and me. Me because I would be dead and you because you would also be dead and...”

You were interrupted by a laugh. Your eyes flickered back to him. He looked startled at the sound he had made, and you smiled brightly in response. You took a step closer. When he did not tense, you dropped to your knees and raised your palm over his side. You lifted your gaze to meet his, and both of you sat in an entranced silence, staring at the other. His eyes dropped to your lips, though there was still a guarded look to him, and you held your breath.

“Do you want me to put my hand down?”

“What?” you sputtered. Oh. Heat burned at your cheeks as you noticed the playful tug of his lips. You nodded quickly. He must have thought you were amusing. You focused back on healing, and you would leave and tell Little Tulip to not say a word. You vowed that you would never see this brute, who enjoyed your embarrassment, again.

When he dropped his hand, you called your healing power, but the unpleasant quirk of your lips increased the time it took to fully heal his wound. When the flesh closed over the wound, you leapt back to your feet. You felt foolish, very unlike the noble and dignified deity you were supposed to be.

“I am going now. I will not tell a soul about you. You do not need to thank me, but I will tell you that you must not wander into this realm again. I guarantee that the next deity you meet will not be as forgiving as me and...”

Your lips pinched together when you felt his touch around your wrist. He pulled your hand down, and lifted his head to kiss the inside of your palm. You flinched at the press of his lips on your skin. He looked up at you, mistrust no longer in his eyes. “You are my savior. May I not be able to see you anymore?”

You dropped your gaze from his. If he heeded your words and you no longer saw him again, would the emptiness in you at the thought grow more and more?

“Only here,” your voice was but above a whisper. “If I see your shadows in the woods, I will come find you. But you must not come find me.”

He was silent for a second. “You are as cruel as you are kind, my goddess.”

He still had not let go of your hand and though his touch was cold, you felt fire licking up where his fingers made contact with your skin. You pulled your hand back like he had scalded you and spun on your heel, flowers having barely enough time to bloom underneath your bare feet with the quickness that you fled.

When you left the woods, your feet scratched up for the first time in your existence and your cheeks red, you could only force yourself to squeeze out a sentence at the quivering little fairy: “There was no evil.”

Your encounters with him continued, in secret and away from prying eyes. You talked about your visits to the human world: the songs you had heard and how you wished you could have danced and the loaves of bread you spotted cooling on the tables. You even talked about how your duties burdened you, though you were made to fulfill them, and how you felt like you were only able to handle them out of love for your humans. He talked about the books he had picked up in the human world, how he had found them meager and naïve at first and then interesting, and the little lake of lava he had grown up by and skipped rocks in. Though he spoke very little, when he did, you were captured by him.

And with the increase of encounters, your feelings of love, which you had reserved for only the creations that had been blessed by the hands of the Creators, grew. You let him hold you close to his chest, and when you laid your head on his flesh, you swore you could almost hear a heart beat quicker and quicker.

On your seventh encounter, when you had brought a basket of flowers into the woods to weave into crowns, you had placed one on his head. When he reached out into your basket and pulled out a handful of flowers, you watched him clumsily weave the flowers together and place the lopsided crown on your head. How could this man, as tender and clumsy as he was, be evil?

When he looked dejected at the sight of the crown limply hanging onto your head, you laughed and pressed a soft kiss on his lips. You had seen your lovely humans do this to express their adoration. And it was accurate to the moment: you adored him, to the point where you could ignore where his origins had laid root in.

Immediately, his hands reached up around your waist and pressed you close until you were on his lap. You gasped against his lips, and his tongue was in your mouth, delving into its depths. You burned underneath his exploration, your hands clenching onto his clothes into fists. Oh, you had never known pleasure like this, so unlike the simpleminded happiness you felt watching the trees hum in the wind and your humans create art. This pleasure was different: it blazed hotly, burning down trees and creating destruction in its path.

When the two of you were separated, your eyes blurred in a haze, he brushed his finger over the plumpness of your bottom lip, soaked in the mixture of saliva. His eyes were filled with anguish, but for what, you did not know. “My name is Yoongi.”

You let out a startled gasp at this. Oh. Oh no. You knew this name. You pushed away from him and onto your feet, flinging an arm out to point at him. “You are the Demon God. You...!”

He was on his feet now, his hands reaching out to grab onto you. But you were inconsolable, banging your fists on his chest. Fire burned before your gaze, glimpses of your beloved humans hopelessly shielding their children from horrible monsters that would tear them apart and consume their remains. You knew those screams. You could hear them even now.

“You are the one to harm my beloved humans! I have seen your creations rise up, full of evil and malice. I have seen them destroy and terrorize and kill-!”

He held your hands to his chest, pressing your fists against where his heart would have been had he been human. The fight drained out of you, as you laid limply in his embrace, tears wetting the fabric of his clothes. His voice was ragged as he spoke. “I am full of evil, my goddess. I was full of evil. I admit, I who had been wandering in darkness did not know good. But you, who could have slain me, showed me good when you saved me. I can be good for you, as long as you do not leave me. You hold my pitiful existence in your hands.”

He reached up a hand to touch the flower crown. The crown disintegrated underneath his touch, leaving bits of ashes. “You see, whatever I touch, I destroy. But with you, I can control this damned ability of mine. I can see reason.” He swallowed heavily. “I can see you. And when I see you, I see all that is good. I can see the flowers that you love to smell and out of all of them, you love lilies the most. I can see that you love humans, though they pillage and lie and kill. I can see why all beings seek the warmth of the day and fear the coldness of night.”

You looked up at him. You could only see the redness of his eyes then. But beneath it, there was a being who you were certain loved you. And you loved him, as much as you loved your humans. He, who was evil, was nothing more than a creation led astray.

“I am sorry,” you finally whispered, a stray tear slipping down your cheek. “I...You will have to give me time.”

When you pushed yourself away from him, this time for good, you walked away.

When he saw that you had left without even a look back at him, he looked up as a large crow flew down. When it landed, it transformed into that of a handsome man with narrow eyes and bronzed skin and cheeks that would have revealed a dimple had he been a smiler.

“Namjoon,” Yoongi spoke, “Keep an eye on her for me. I will leave to deal with the issues of the Demon Realm.”

Namjoon nodded his head and hummed in agreement. “I will. A favor for a friend.”

Yoongi laughed. “Your associations with humans have made you more like them. A demon has no need for friends. In our existence, there are those who lead, and those who follow.”

Namjoon turned his head to look at where the little goddess had been. “And how would you describe her: a leader or a follower?”

Yoongi’s hands clenched briefly, like he could still feel her warmth, and his eyes were still pinned to where she had been. “She is holy. Holier than my damned existence. And yet I still want to monopolize her and make her look only at me.”

“So then?” Namjoon asked again. “How would you categorize her?”

Yoongi remained silent for a moment. Then, he vanished, leaving Namjoon alone in the forest. Namjoon thought to himself then: what about this little goddess captured the attention of a demon that had been damned from the beginning?

Namjoon kept a careful eye on the goddess. Though on the surface, it was due to orders from his liege, he could not help the insatiable curiosity about her. She was kind—though kindness was not much familiar to a demon like him. She certainly loved those humans, as foolish and terrible they were. And when she watched a wedding, there was a certain sadness lingering in her eyes that captured him.

And so, as Yoongi remained away from her side, Namjoon found himself fixated on this presence.

He had been following her in a crow form when he was caught by the pudgy hands of some kid who was little more than the neighborhood bully. The kid had thrown him onto the ground and menacingly reached down to start plucking at his feathers. He had thought about growing back into a fierce snake, who could rear up to bite the human that dared to grab him and leave him on the verge of death, when a voice cried out.

“Leave that bird alone!”

The child bully looked up, prepared to viciously attack the person who dared to interrupt his fun time, but swallowed his words at the sight of the glowering adult. The little goddess had taken on the form of a muscular man, with biceps that bulged like the size of a boulder, and the kid had been too flustered to come up with a retort. Instead, the kid dropped Namjoon’s bird form and sped off.

When the muscular man shifted back into the form of the little goddess, Namjoon watched as you ran up to him and lifted him up to inspect him. “Oh, I am so glad you were not harmed! I love those humans, but I do not particularly enjoy it when they decide to hurt other innocent beings.” You squinted down at him with analytical eyes. Namjoon gulped, fearing that you would have caught onto the true self that lingered underneath the disguise. “Do you think I was too mean by taking on that scary form, right?”

Namjoon shook his head, forgetting that birds should not have understood the human language. But you laughed like this was to be expected, and Namjoon felt silly: of course, animals like birds would understand the words of this goddess. “Good! Well, I will let you be now, little guy. Try to be more careful, so you will not get caught again. You are a handsome bird, with very beautiful feathers. There are many humans who would catch you just to capture your feathers.”

Namjoon puffed up in pleasure. Of course, he was beautiful. He was a high-ranking demon. This crow form was nothing for him. If anything, he was the most handsome crow out of all the crows that occupied the human realm. He squinted his eyes. What was he even thinking?

In his agitation, he fluttered his wings and flapped away, ignoring the tinkling sound of laughter that she made when he almost rammed into a tree branch.

When Yoongi returned and had asked Namjoon on how his goddess had fared without seeing him, Namjoon could not help the zip of pleasure that ran through him when he had answered that she had been more than fine, and Yoongi had glowered in response.

Namjoon then understood why Yoongi had been unable to answer him when he had asked which category the little goddess had occupied. She was neither a leader nor a follower. Her existence itself was a source of contentment, of happiness that destroyed the boundary between who was meant to control and who was meant to be controlled.

There were many creations that were beautiful. And there were few creations that were both beautiful and kind. But beautiful and kind creations never lived long.

You loved most the most beautiful and kind of the humans: a young girl who had lived as a daughter of a baron. You had chanced upon her on one of your visits, watching her help the poor though her family itself had little means, and when she had begged for help from a deity to help save her from her plight, you had been listening to her pleas that she not be sold to the vicious king that ruled over her kingdom.

You did something that you reserved for only your most favorite humans: you appeared in front of her. When you had offered her a way to avoid the favor of the king—a bell that would turn her into a bird that could fly out of the king’s grasp—she had laid on the ground and kissed your feet in joy.

But word of the goddess that appeared with the golden bell spread far and wide. And when you entered the human realm, wanting to see how that human girl was faring, you were soon captured by the king’s army. When you were lead to the throne room, your hands wrapped in chains, you were distraught at the sight of your most favorite human pointing at you.

“This is the goddess!” she declared. She turned to the king, who looked like a walking corpse with sallow skin and hollow cheeks underneath the gold and silk he wore. “Your majesty, I implore you to remember our deal. For her capture, you will let go of my parents and give us enough gold to revitalize our land and tend to our people.”

Oh, though she had betrayed you so, you felt a rush of pride. Betrayal for a good reason, you could tolerate, for you loved her so. But the king had merely raised his hand, and a knight rushed forward with a fell swoop of his sword. When her head, bloody, fell in front of you, you let out a ragged cry.

The king knelt down in front of you, a blade in his hand. You flinched as he wielded the knife...and sliced his palm open. He reached up to cup your cheek, smearing his blood on your flesh. “I heard tears from a goddess could cure all wounds.”

He lifted his palm back and watched with awe as the wound on his palm closed up. His eyes glowed with a sick greed. “Then it must be true. That the blood of a goddess can cure all ailment. You know, I had this knife brought to me for this very moment when I first heard the legends. It is made of a terrible evil capable of killing good. You should know that I was granted this knife from the Demon God himself after I sacrificed many peasants.”

He raised the knife and sliced your palm. You felt pain for the first time in your existence, but even more hurtful, you felt anguish bite at what might have been your heart. Gold ichor spilled out of your wound, and he hastily bent down to drink your blood. Color returned to his cheeks at once. You watched in disgust and horror as he laughed with glee. He sobered up, looking down at you. His eyes glittered with the remnants of the sickness that had imprisoned him so.

“Then it must be true. That the sacrifice of a goddess can fulfill any wish, a wish that would last for all of time. Your death can bring anyone back to life. For with your death, life will follow. I will be able to see my wife then.” He lifted the knife, and you were silent as he brought it down in a fell swoop. The blade pierced the flesh above your clavicle, but not a sound of pain left your lips. You pinched them together, even as your body collapsed on the cold floor.

You thought of Yoongi then. You wanted to let him know that you forgave him, for his deceit and for how he had tricked your beloved humans. But you were no longer capable of doing so. You were bleeding out on this floor, just like any other mortal that you had loved. You hoped that the Creators would not hurt the humans who had harmed you. There were many you had loved. And you knew that the Creators loved them even more so.

You saw a flash of red in front of your blurry gaze. A voice called your name, begging. You had never heard a voice that despaired like this voice did. You wondered, for a moment, why it sounded like Yoongi. Something wet splashed onto your skin, the sound of a crackle and a pop following. Ah, the tears of a demon, unlike the tears of a god, caused pain. But you did not feel any pain, not now. Ah, it was Yoongi.

You wanted to tell him that you loved him, that you saw good in him, that even when you were not around he could still be good. But your time, which had seemed to stretch on infinitely before, was now finite, limited by a few seconds left.

You whispered, gasping out short little breaths between the words. “I...forgive...all.”

“Wake...!” you heard.

And then you could speak no longer. And you could hear no longer.

The end of the realms was imminent. Underneath the grief of the ruler of the demon realm, fires roared and overtook earth. Soon, once earth was taken and destroyed, rage would spread and bring all that existed down to the burning afterworld.

The God of Life could not stand by and witness the end of all that he had created. When he had found himself in front of the Demon God, he had been prepared for the sword that the Demon God had pointed at his chest.

“You...! She is your daughter, and you wish me to spare the lives of the humans who...!” The Demon God had screamed in anguish. He laughed then, the sound ironic and cruel. "I know you beings are both cruel and kind. For if she had been less kind, she would have been less cruel, choosing her love of humans over...over our love."

The God of Life loved all he created very much. And he had loved his daughter, who had sprung forth from the love he had with his wife, very much as well. But as the Giver of Life, he was unable to upset the balance of the world he had created, not when the balance was so fragile. He could not bring his daughter back. Not without an equal trade. Not without a deal.

“More than you would ever know in your damned existence, I love her very much." Loved. "Yet, I too am unable to go against the tide of Fate." In that moment, for the first time in his existence that had always been steady and predictable, the God of Life relented.

"However, there is a chance for her to return.” He started. “But you must adhere to what I will tell you. So that you will not destroy the world, I will tell you of how you may be granted mercy from Fate. But there is little in this world that is certain."

The Demon God was silent now, his face stony and emotionless. But there was something dangerous taking root in his eyes. A sickness that could not be cured: Hope.

And Hope was the most dangerous thing, for as much as it could create, it could also destroy. Hope would be the reason why humanity would continue. And hope would be the reason why the king, who in his madness had killed a deity, did not die. And why many, many years later, a princess that once had been the most loved existence in all of the realms would be born into this kingdom in the absence of love.

For hope could destroy lineage, as much as it tried to preserve it.

A/N: As always, leave a comment! Though I'm not active like I used to be, I do check messages that come into my inbox and do see when y'all (if anyone is still here haha) comment. If anything, another motivator that had me come back to this blog just for this story was someone who messaged me two years ago. @theedungeonwitch, though I was in a not so great place then and wasn't able to respond to you, I'm leaving my flowers here for you now. No tag list, since I'm not sure who's still here and still willing to read this chapter :)

#yandere bts #yandere yoongi #yoongi x reader #yandere #bts x reader #bts fic #yandere x reader #bts yoongi #yandere fic #bts thriller au #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #duke yoongi #yandere male #bts scenarios

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ftminyoongi · 14 days ago

Text

𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 | M. Yoongi

title. our season

summary. where y/n writes letters to min yoongi, the person she knew before Suga and the person she misses dearly.

pairings. yoongi x fem. reader/writer

genre. journal entries, flashback scenarios

warnings. this collection of entries will contain sensitive topics regarding depression, loneliness, abandonment, etc. please read at your own discretion if sensitive to these topics.

╭──────────.★..─╮

*ch. 001, the scar*

╰─..★.──────────╯

2014 January 6

Journal Entry 1

I remember the way your eyes would close when you gave me that gummy smile of yours. The pictures do not show every little wrinkle or crease of that smile. I remember doing everything I could to make you laugh even when you had tears in your eyes. I remember the smile you gave me when I would bring you food that I learned how to cook, just so you had something to eat that day.

I feel like I am forgetting every one of those details as the days go by. You used to be a phone call away but now your phone rings and it says unavailable. I could walk over to your house but now you live in a shared apartment with your band mates. Now I live a whole plane flight away from our hometown and you don't know where.

I wonder if you think of me like I think of you, I wonder if you think of every memory we have made since we were children or the times I was there for you when no one else was. I have and will always be your number one supporter even if we don't talk anymore. I miss you but all I have left are our precious memories.

Do you remember when we were 7 and liked to play in my parents clothes? We would get in so much trouble for dirtying it but it was okay because we ran around the house like we were getting chased by a monster. We did not have anything to worry about as long as we were together.

—

"Yoongi, run! The monster is going to catch us!" Y/n yelled while laughing and grabbing Yoongi's hand. They ran away from Y/n's mom because Y/n was wearing her mothers dress and Yoongi was in her fathers suit.

They laughed together even when they knew they were going to get scolded later by both of their parents but it didn't matter, not now. Y/n was running in heels which resulted in her falling down and hitting her head on a cabinet. Yoongi looked at her and laughed. She hit him on the leg while complaining that it hurt so much.

He soon shut his mouth when he saw blood coming out of her forehead, "Mom! Y/n is bleeding! She hit her head! She is bleeding!"

"You see, you see! This is why I tell you two to not be running around like this but you never listen. Yoongi, I am going to call your mom to come pick you up so get changed. Y/n, sit down so I can clean you up."

Y/n's mother walked away and disappeared into the restroom where they kept the first aid kit. Yoongi sat down next to Y/n and held her hand. She squeezed his hand and complained about how much it hurt. Although his hand was hurting from how tight Y/n was squishing it, he said nothing and just sat next to her, comforting her and telling her it would be okay.

When Y/n's mom applied the ointment and cleaned her wound, Y/n was a crying mess. It burned but she knew she could not do anything about it. Yoongi's parents had gotten there fairly quickly, they only live about 10 minutes away, and he immediately got scolded.

They were blaming Yoongi, even when they knew it was probably Y/n's idea. Y/n kept defending him but her mother said to keep quiet and let the adults talk. She could tell Yoongi was holding back tears but he always refused to cry, at least in front of her. She hated that, but she couldn't force him to cry either.

—

The scar on my forehead has slowly started to fade. May be that is a way of the world telling me it is time to let you go.

Sometimes I think about emailing your company but then I would probably seem crazy if I did. I like thinking back about dumb moments like these because even if I don't remember it detail by detail, I remember what I felt at that moment.

I felt hurt, scared, and mad. Hurt because my head was pounding so hard, I could hear my heartbeat. Scared because I knew that our parents would scold us for hours and I hated seeing you sad. Mad because you laughed at me when I was hurt but now that I think about it, I am happy and sad.

I would do anything to go back and feel all that again, even if it means hitting my head again or getting scolded. At least I would be next to you and we would be able to comfort one another.

You would call my parents mom and dad. That is how close we were. I don't know if you remember that, but I do. Then, as the years went by, you started calling them by their last names and a Mr or Mrs in front of them. It might be a small change but that is when I knew, things were changing between us. Nevertheless, I still miss you.

I miss you so much.

Sincerely,

L/N Y/N

— notes! hi everyone, this is actually a story i wrote back in 2022 on wattpad that i never published. I was reading it and really enjoyed it so i hope you all do too. I only have two and a half chapters written but I plan to write at least five. This will be a short series! Please let me know what you all think. Also, if there are any typos or a name used for the reader, let me know, this story used to have an OC.

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coupsie-daisies · 10 months ago

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Kinktober '23: Free Use | Jeon Jungkook and Jung Hoseok

Pairing: Boyfriend!Jeon Jungkook x Girlfriend!Reader x Jung Hoseok

Genre: Smut (minors DO NOT interact), established relationship

Summary: Jungkook knew that you were his dream girl from the moment he saw you, but when you agreed to be the band's free Use stress toy, he knew he was a goner

WC: 1.7k

Warnings: free use, cumshots, unprotected sex, pet names (pretty), threesome, oral (male receiving), fingering, light overstimulation, praise, homoeroticism lowkey, Jungkook is kinda a simp

A/N: Unedited because, I won't lie, I've been writing and rewriting this for ages and I just keep not being satisfied, so hopefully you guys enjoy it and I'm being overly critical. let me know!

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @decaffedthoughts // @brownieracha // @ferrethyun // @moonchild0325 // @wonuqrtz // @mixling-blog // @wonwooz1-blog

Main Masterlist

Kinktober '23 Masterlist

This fanfiction is property of @/coupsie-daisies, reposting on any other platform is prohibited

When Jungkook met you for the first time, his entire world shifted on its axis. He thought you were the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen, and he could have sworn that when you spoke to him it was like music to his ears. But Jungkook didn't believe in love at first sight, he was a big boy now, long past stories of fairytale sorts.

So he took his time, he took you on dates, some elaborate beyond measure, and some mundane as anything, he learned you inside out, top to bottom. The most difficult part, he'd discovered, was letting you learn him back. He wasn't always good at opening up to people, but he found that with every piece of him that you became familiar with, it was easier to give you more.

And Jungkook gave as much as he received in return. He knew within months that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, but his fate was sealed completely on a late autumn night. Him and the boys had just gotten back from a particularly long schedule and he was enjoying his night with you over drinks. He knew as well as you did that you were something of a lightweight, the alcohol streaming through you always loosened your tongue and brought out a more relaxed side of you.

But once you were settled on his lap, your mouth inching down his neck, the moment took an unexpected turn. Jungkook gripped your hips as they rolled over his, head tipped back against the couch as he revelled in the feeling of you pressed up against him.

"Missed you so fucking much," You mumbled, nipping at the skin, but hardly enough to leave a mark. "Wish you'd just taken me as soon as you got home. Need you inside so bad, Kook,"

"You were cooking, babe." He laughed breathlessly as your hips rocked over his again.

"Don't care. I'm yours whenever you want me. Don't even have to ask, just fuck me."

So he had fucked you then, and again after that, and maybe a third time in the shower. But it was when you were laying in bed, curled against his side for the first time in ages, that he brought up your words again.

"You mean I could fuck you whenever I want? No matter what?" He asked you. You nodded sleepily against his shoulder.

"Within some pre-discussed limits." You answered. "If you wanted to. But that's not everyone's thing." You answered simply. Jungkook couldn't imagine anyone not wanting practically unrestricted access to their partner at all times, but he figured some people just didn't get it.

The limits discussion came in the morning, long and in depth, paired with safe words and mutual agreements. And after that, many more rounds until the both of you were spent. From that day forward, Jungkook took full advantage of your little kink, and you were happy to let him.

The allowance of his band mates to use you was his idea. He'd seen how stressed and frustrated his hyungs were, and sure it was easy for them to get laid, but it was also stressful to protect themselves as world famous idols if they did. So, he suggested they use you as their stress relief. You were more eager to help them than he'd expected. So another round of discussions came around, time frames when you were at their beck and call. And before you knew it, you were theirs to play with as they pleased.

It was during one of those time frames that Jungkook came home from a schedule, finding you laid out across the couch, legs pressed wide and Hoseok's fingers buried inside of you. When you noticed his presence, you buried your face in your arms, hiding from your lover's hungry gaze. He had already been looking forward to having a little fun with you, but he hadn't expected his hyung to be getting you warmed up by the time he got home.

"Starting without me?" He asked, crouching down beside the couch. Hoseok looked up, grinning at the younger man and continuing to scissor his long digits inside of you.

"Barely. Just got here." He answered. Jungkook reached up, pulling your arms away from your face and leaning down to press his lips to yours.

"Having fun, pretty girl?" He asked. You whined in response, Hobi's fingertips brushing against the spongy spot inside of you and making your hips jerk. "Look at how pretty you are. Always so embarrassed like you're not begging to be used."

His filthy words were still laced with a gentle affection that had your head spinning. Hobi pulled his fingers out of your pussy, pressing them to your lips and watching as you sucked them in. You had only just finished cleaning your arousal off of his fingers when Jungkook was turning your head, moving you so your face was pressed against the bulge in his boxers. You hadn't even noticed him stripping off his pants.

You mouthed at his cock through the fabric, suckling the tip and leaving a dark spot over it, wet with his precum and your saliva. Meanwhile, Hobi moved quickly, stripping his top half, then shoving his pants and underwear off his long legs. You wanted to look, but you couldn't turn your head far enough with Jungkook's hand pressing firmly against your jaw.

"Take it out," Jungkook told you, and you reached up, tugging his boxers down until his aching length was exposed to you. He didn't even have to tell you what to do, just sitting pretty while you wrapped your lips around the tip, tongue dipping against his slit. He grunted quietly, slowly rocking his hips to press his length deeper into your warm mouth.

Hoseok lined himself up with your weeping hole, tapping his cock against your clit and listening to the muffled whines you let out around his friend's dick. He pushed your thighs wider, and you winced at the stretch in your hips, but then he was sinking his cock into you and all thoughts were wiped clear from your mind.

Jungkook stroked your hair, fucking lazily into your mouth and letting you swirl your tongue along the vein running up his dick.

"Look so pretty taking care of us." Jungkook purred, fucking into your mouth deeper until you were gagging around him, spit trailing from the corner of your lips, and as far as he was concerned, it was the prettiest sight he'd ever seen. Nothing compared to watching your body be used to help his friends.

"She clenches on my dick so hard when you gag her like that," Hoseok hissed through clenched teeth, his hips rocking into yours and big hands gripping your hips so tight that there would probably be bruises. "Fuck her throat for me."

Jungkook didn't have to be told twice, holding your head in place and thrusting into your throat like it was his favorite toy. You squeezed your eyes shut, fighting to breathe with the tip of his dick kissing the back of your throat. He reached down, using his thumb to pry your mouth open a little more, drool and precum leaking down your face. Hoseok sped up, fucking you with deep, hard thrusts in time with Jungkook's hips. The feeling had you on cloud nine.

Your body had gotten used to the feeling of being used by them, but it wasn't often that you took more than one of them at a time, and it was even more rare for them to treat you like a total slut. Your chest was aching for breath when Jungkook finally let up, pulling his dick out of your mouth and allowing you to greedily gulp down air, coughing and spluttering and looking up at him through the tears spilling down your cheeks.

"Make me cum," He told you, bringing your hand up to wrap around his spit-soaked dick. You took over immediately, stroking him as well as you could with Hoseok's thrusts driving you up the couch. Jungkook groaned, feeling his orgasm building at the sight of you going dumb on Hobi's dick.

"Close," You warned, head tipped back as you swirled your thumb around the tip of Jungkook's dick. Every thrust Hobi made was dragging deliciously against your sweet spot, and your legs were trembling around his hips, pulling him in deeper. He reached down, expertly swirling his fingers against your clit and sending you careening into pure bliss.

The sight of you cumming was too much for Jungkook. He wrapped his hand around yours, tightening your grip on his dick and thrusting into it faster until he was spilling his cum onto you, some of it landing on your chest and neck, the rest dripping down your hand and along your wrist.

Hobi bit his bottom lip, fucking you through your orgasm until you were squirming away in overstimulation, then pulling out to jerk his cock a few times, his own cum painting your thighs. You closed your eyes, tired and sensitive, and a little too embarrassed to look at the two of them.

"Get her cleaned up, I'll get water." Hoseok said, standing up and pulling his boxers on. Jungkook still looked a little high off his orgasm and the sight of his beloved girlfriend getting fucked, but he nodded, using his boxers to wipe the cum off his dick and your hand before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"Feeling okay, pretty?" He asked, brushing your hair out of your face. You nodded, blinking up at him. "Good, you were so perfect for us. Gonna go grab a towel and get you cleaned up and then you can relax again."

With that promise he was off to the bathroom to wet a rag to clean you up, and you were content to melt into the couch with the two of them pampering you and thanking you for taking care of them. Even if it left you exhausted being the personal stress toy for all seven boys, you wouldn't have turned it down for the world.

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melancholy-of-nadia · 10 months ago

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love u lately (m) #11 | myg/knj/pjm

title: love u lately chapter title: #11 - love u lately pairing: yoongi x f. reader, namjoon x f. reader, jimin x f. reader (yoonminjoon x f. reader) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; college/university au , pseudo frat! bts; best friends! yoonminjoon friends to lovers; summary: jin, hoseok, taehyung and jungkook leave the house to you, jimin, namjoon and yoongi for the next few hours after yoongi's kbbq birthday dinner. perhaps now that you four have decided to be together, there's only one thing left to do to really seal the deal. warnings: HEAVY SMUT (if you are a minor, please leave immediately. idk why you would be here in the first place as the story has been smut all long!), the long awaited FOURSOME, oh god how will i touch upon all the things in this, french kissing, SLIGHT mlm mentions/exploration, blowjob, breast play, eating out, multiple orgasms, creampies, cum play?, multiple positions, dirty talk, pet names, rough s*x, soft s*x, tears from deep throat, reassurance, and consent, slight size kink if you wink, double vag*nal pen*tration, hickeys, good ending, playful banter from yoonminjoon, A LOT OF FLUFF, DEEP TALKS, WE HAVE ONE MORE CHAPTER PEOPLE! note: @daegudrama has been the hero editor of this fic series. please all send her love to her fics as well!! she is an amazing writer!!! total word count: 8.1k drop date: June 28th, 2024, 2PM PST cross posted on AO3 here ← #10 | Series Masterlist | #12

March 9 [Saturday]

“Sometimes I can’t believe you guys are so down bad for me to be doing this.” You say, muffled as you are squished in a hug between Namjoon and Yoongi on the living room couch.

It's early in the morning, but sleep has eluded you, replaced by the bubbling excitement over your poly relationship with your three best friends. Unable to stay in bed any longer, you crept downstairs and started watching an episode of One Piece on Netflix, which Jimin and Taehyung convinced you to watch. You’re barely a few episodes into the Alabasta Arc, but you fear you’ll never make it to the most recent arcs, hundreds of episodes away. To your surprise, you weren't the only one not feeling tired anymore. Your three best friends had the same idea, joining you one by one. Now, you’re sandwiched between two of them, while Jimin sits contentedly on the floor in front of you, leaning back against your legs.

"I don't see any issue with it," Yoongi says nonchalantly, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck. "We love you, after all."

Namjoon nods in agreement, with one arm around you and his other hand resting comfortably on your thigh. "Exactly. Plus, we wanted to be in this poly relationship!"

Jimin chuckles from his spot on the floor, turning his head to look up at you. "And who wouldn't want to be down bad for you? You're pretty cute, you know."

You feel your cheeks heat up at their words, a warm glow spreading through you. "You guys are too sweet," you murmur, reaching down to ruffle Jimin's hair affectionately.

“Let’s just hope we don’t scare Namjoon out of this.” Jimin snickers. “We already had a threesome, just to let you know.” He turns to him and wiggles his eyebrows.

You turn to see Namjoon’s eyes widen for a few seconds. Wait, was this ever mentioned to him? You thought you already mentioned it to him before, but it seems like you hadn’t. None of you had. Fuck...

A small internal panic occurs between the three of you.

Despite the sudden revelation, Namjoon doesn’t falter. “And? That’s not going to scare me away.” He smirks, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “If anything, it just makes things more interesting.”

You raise an eyebrow, feeling a playful spark ignite in the air. “Oh, really?” you tease, leaning closer to him, your lips brushing against his ear. “Are you saying you’re down for a foursome?”

Namjoon’s smirk widens as he turns to face you, his gaze intense. “If you guys want, I’ll try anything. Just say the word and I’m down,” he murmurs, his voice low and seductive. His hand slides a little higher on your thigh, sending a shiver through you.

Your heart races at his words, excitement and desire mixing in a heady cocktail. “You guys are unbelievable,” you say, your voice letting out a sigh. “But I guess that’s why I love you.”

Yoongi’s hand moves to cup your chin, lifting your face to his. “We love you too,” he says, and then his lips are on yours, kissing you deeply, possessively. “But you better love me more today because it’s my birthday.” He teases.

“Of course, my love.” You reply to him cutely, making the other two roll their eyes in slight jealousy of Yoongi today.

++++++

“Everyone! Aside from celebrating Yoongi’s 21st birthday tonight, I have gathered you here at Baekjeong KBBQ to announce some big news!”

All the guys from the Beta Tau Sigma house turn to look at you, who has gotten up from your seat. Namjoon, seemingly knowing what you’re going to say, begins to panic and quickly signals you to sit back down. You give him a puzzled look before realizing that you can’t just announce that you’re in a polycule with your three guy best friends at a restaurant. Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung laugh when your excited demeanor deflates once you sit back down in realization.

“We decided to be together…” you mumble, your words trailing off. Your face feels hot as embarrassment overcomes you, but all the guys think that’s adorable. This is so embarrassingly anticlimactic!

“Good for you. Now, can you pass over that big piece of short rib-eye on your side?” Seokjin says seriously, his deadpan request making the other guys burst out giggling.

You sigh and use your chopsticks to grab the piece, placing it on Seokjin’s plate. Yoongi, sitting next to you, puts his arm around you, pulling you closer and kissing your temple.

“Don’t worry, love, he’s just jealous he isn’t getting any pussy,” Yoongi snides, his tone playful. The comment sends another wave of laughter around the table.

“Shut the fuck up, I totally am!” Seokjin barks back, but the guys stare at him in disbelief, their skepticism obvious.

“Sure, hyung, whatever helps you sleep at night,” Taehyung teases, winking at him.

The laughter and chatter continue around the table, making the atmosphere cozy and lively. Namjoon, still chuckling, reaches over to turn the meat on the grill, the sizzling sound blending with the background noise of the bustling restaurant.

“So, you guys really decided to be together?” Jungkook asks, popping a piece of marinated beef into his mouth, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

You look at Yoongi, who gives you an encouraging nod. “Yep,” you repeat, feeling a bit more confident this time. “Me, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jimin. We’re trying out this polycule thing.”

The guys blink at you, taking the time to actually process your words. Hoseok is the first to react, his eyes widening with excitement. “Whoa, that’s actually really cool! So, like, you’re all dating each other?”

You nod, feeling the initial awkwardness dissipate. “Yeah? Technically. it’s a bit unconventional, but we think it could work for us.”

Jimin, who’s been quietly enjoying his food, finally chimes in. “It’s something we’ve all talked about with her first and agreed on. We want to make it work.”

You recall about 12 hours earlier, when you, Namjoon, Jimin and Yoongi talked early in the morning about the shared agreement to start this polycule. You all knew you should announce it to the other residents at your not-so-frat house, which you so excitedly tried to bring up, albeit at the wrong place.

Seokjin, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of short rib, finally swallows and gives a nod of approval. “As long as you’re all happy and on the same page, that’s what matters. Plus, it’s not like any of us are in a position to judge your relationships anyways.”

“Exactly,” Namjoon adds, his voice steady and reassuring. “We’re all here to support each other, no matter what.”

Yoongi tightens his arm around you, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your shoulder. “And we’ll figure things out as we go. We’ve said communication is key.”

Jungkook, ever the curious one, leans forward, resting his chin on his hand. “So, how does this work? Will you, like, all go on dates together, or will you split your time?”

You laugh, appreciating Jungkook’s genuine interest. “We’re going to figure that part out. It’s going to be a learning experience, not gonna lie.”

Taehyung, always the romantic, sighs dreamily. “I think it’s beautiful. Love doesn’t have to fit into a box. As long as it’s real, that’s what counts.”

The server arrives with another platter of meat, breaking the contemplative mood, but leaves soon after. Seokjin eagerly takes the tongs and starts placing the meat on the grill, the sizzling sound bringing everyone back to the present.

“So are you guys going to sexile us after this or…?” Taehyung asks bluntly, his words cutting through the laughter and conversation.

You start choking on your kimchi from the shock of his question, your face turning red. Jimin quickly pats your back, trying to help you breathe again, his eyes wide with concern.

“Taehyung!” Namjoon yells, his voice stern and disbelieving.

“It’s an honest question!” Taehyung defends himself, holding up his hands. “Hoseok and I were already planning to go frat house hopping tonight anyway.”

Seokjin, shaking his head, rolls his eyes. “I’ve got to go to a bar fundraising event for Kappa Psi Pi since I’m the president, after all.” He ends his words sarcastically, groaning as he finishes.

“And I’m tagging along because he said there would be cute girls from the frat there, and I can’t miss that!” Jungkook exclaims, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.

The tension eases, and you finally catch your breath, giving Taehyung a half-amused, half-exasperated look. “O-Okay then maybe give us two and half hours and then you’re free to come home?”

Now, it’s Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin’s turns to start choking dramatically on their food, drawing the attention of surrounding tables. Jungkook, Taehyung, Jin, and Hoseok make sounds of awe at your boldness. Yoongi immediately grabs a cup of cold tea and downs it, while Jimin and Namjoon opt for downing a shot each.

“Jesus… fucking… Christ… Y/N,” Yoongi exclaims, exasperated.

You smirk at them, feeling a mix of amusement and satisfaction at their reactions.

“Hey, if we’re going to do this, we might as well have some fun, right?” you say, trying to keep a straight face as you meet their stunned gazes.

Jungkook chuckles, shaking his head. “Damn, Y/N, you really know how to keep things interesting.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Taehyung adds, a wide grin spreading across his face. “I’m impressed.”

Seokjin, still recovering from his own laughter, nods. “Alright, two and a half hours it is. We’ll make ourselves scarce.”

Hoseok leans back in his chair, giving you a thumbs-up. “Just make sure to clean up after yourselves. I don’t want to come back to the house smelling like sex and cum.”

You giggle, feeling happy that the guys are supportive of everything despite initial worries. Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jimin exchange glances, their initial shock giving way to amusement and a shared understanding.

“Alright, alright,” Namjoon concedes, still a bit red in the face. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”

Jimin shakes his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You really are something else, Y/N.”

Yoongi, finally regaining his composure, leans in closer to you. “You never cease to surprise me,” he murmurs, a hint of admiration in his voice.

The evening continues with more laughter and teasing, the air filled with the mouthwatering aroma of grilled meat and the sound of clinking glasses. You raise your own glass once more, toasting to the unique and wonderful dynamic you share with your lovers.

++++++

The four of you come home, while the others decide to go elsewhere unanimously. You can’t believe they all agreed to let you guys have the house to yourselves for the next few hours…and to have a foursome much less.

Before you parted ways at the restaurant, leaving in Jimin’s car to head back home, Taehyung said, “Good luck with the foursome. Don’t be too loud, alright? Let us know when you’re done!” He winked, a playful grin on his face, as he rushed toward Jungkook’s car where the other 3 guys were calling out to him.

You guys haven’t even decided if it is going to happen tonight.

You’re going to owe the guys big time.

But now you are filled with nerves as you sit on your bed with Namjoon to your right and Jimin on your left, while Yoongi remains standing in front of you.

“A-Are we actually doing this right now?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to,” Namjoon reassures, his voice gentle and soothing. He reaches out, taking your hand in his. “We’re here because we love and care about you, not because we want to pressure you into anything.”

Yoongi nods, his expression softening. “We can just hang out and watch a movie if that’s what you prefer,” he says, patting the bed. “Save this for another time!”

Jimin smiles at you, his eyes full of understanding. “Right! Like Hyung said! Whatever you’re comfortable with! We’re here for you, no matter what.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “I know,” you say, your voice wavering slightly. “I am willing to do this, but I just...I want to make sure this is something we all want.”

“We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t want this,” Yoongi says softly, reaching out to touch your arm. “But we mostly care about you wanting this too.”

You look at each of them in turn, seeing nothing but love and reassurance in their eyes as they nod along to Yoongi’s words. “Okay,” you say, finally letting out the breath you’d been holding. “I want this too. I need to hear that you’re all on the same page too.”

Namjoon squeezes your hand gently. “We are. We’re in this together, Tiny.” The other two nod in response.

You nod, feeling a bit of the tension leave your body. “Alright,” you say, smiling nervously and taking a deep breath. “Let’s take it slow, okay?”

The three men lean in towards you, starting with Jimin peppering your neck with kisses and fondling your left breast. Namjoon takes note of the younger man’s actions and copies the same movements, with his lips on your jawline and his hand kneading your right breast slightly harder. Yoongi takes the opportunity to go directly for your lips first, his hand on your thigh as it inches closer until he’s under your dress and rubbing your panty-covered clit.

His lips feel incredibly soft against yours, the gentle pressure sending shivers down your spine. You moan softly into Yoongi's mouth, your body responding to the multitude of sensations. Not wanting to miss out on your lips too, Namjoon and Jimin inch closer, their eyes dark with desire. and then, suddenly, you're sharing a four-way kiss.

It's like a dance of lips and tongues, a medley of tastes and textures. Yoongi's kisses are gentle yet insistent, a contrast to Namjoon's firmer, more dominant touch. Jimin's approach is playful and teasing, his lips brushing against yours and the others', adding an element of unpredictability to the mix.

You always can’t help but feel turned on seeing their own tongues make contact with one another. You make a mental note to bring this up in the future.

But the intoxicating feeling brings you back to the situation you’re in, making your head spin in the most delightful way. Your hands reach out, finding purchase on Namjoon's broad shoulders and Jimin's firm chest. Yoongi pulls away from the kiss, but his hands continue his skilled ministrations on your swollen clit and beneath your dress.

He leans down, spreads your legs open, and slides your panties to the side, directly flicking your clit back and forth.

“Such a pretty pussy, just for us.” Yoongi chuckles, lust taking over him.

Jimin and Namjoon pull away from the kiss as well, deciding to nibble at your ear while continuing to massage your breasts.

“That’s our baby.” Namjoon whispers in your ears.

“Hyung, help me undress her,” Jimin says with an impatient. “Darling looks so much better naked.” He winks at you, which makes you blush. If this were any other time, you’d die of embarassment, but being bared to Yoongi like this right now, nothing else matters.

Namjoon unzip the back of your cherry spaghetti strap sundress, and the two men push the straps down your arms and chest to reveal you’re braless, with only pebbled nipples out in the open.

“Wearing no bra out to KBBQ with the other guys? You’re such a minx.” Jimin giggles.

“S-Shut up! Bras don’t look go– A-Ah…!” You argue back, and he suddenly leans down and latches onto your nipples, sucking them with his plump lips. You squirm in response, feeling Jimin’s tongue tease and flick your left nipple. You place a hand on the back of his head, indulging as you push him further into your chest.

Namjoon quickly follows by pressing his tongue against your right nipple, flicking at it in a desperate attempt to get it harder. His lips lick against your breast and suckle at your tit. Lovely, warm strokes follow, with your whines snuffed by biting at your lower lip.

Yoongi’s impatience to see you come undone takes over as he watches you three. He proceeds to slide off your panties, as well as the remaining half of your dress scrunched at your waist, and hastily opens your legs further. He wastes no time diving in to lick at your cunt.

Your eyes widen with surprise at the sudden invasion. Yoongi’s tongue darts out, swirling around your clit and then sliding down to taste your folds before pushing inside you. You moan softly, your hands reaching out for something to grasp again. Yoongi wraps his arms around your thighs, holding you close as he continues his exploration. You can feel his warm breath on your sensitive skin, a contrast to the coolness of the room.

"F-Fuck Yoongi…feels so good," you manage to gasp out, your eyes fluttering closed and your hands automatically going to Namjoon's shoulders.

“Just wait until I make you cum.” He smiles, his signature slight lopsided smile giving you goosebumps. That’s the confident Min Yoongi talking, and you are definitely scared. Yoongi pulls away from your pussy, opting to insert two fingers inside your throbbing pussy. He begins thrusting them inside and out at a rapid pace. Each thrust of his fingers drives you closer to the edge, and your body responds eagerly to the relentless pleasure he is giving you along with what Jimin and Namjoon are doing. You feel your juices coat his fingers, the slickness allowing him to move even faster. The pressure builds within you, a tight coil of desire ready to snap.

There’s a brief pause in the build-up as Yoongi removes his fingers and goes back to eating you out. You realize he was doing that because he wants you to get more wet, in preparation for all of them entering you later. You wish he would keep going with his fingers, but coming undone by his tongue has been your favorite thing in the past year.

Yoongi swipes against your aching clit each time your tongue darts up and down your folds. He savors each little sound you make, relishing in the feeling of your thighs gently squeezing the sides of his head. He sucks your bud a few times before dipping back down, sliding his tongue into your pussy as your body signals to him that you’re seconds from your first orgasm of the night. “Yoongi…!” your voice and breathing is shaky. “I-I’m gonna cum!” The familiar pressure of a nearing orgasm slowly dissipates as a wave of pure euphoria crashes over you. Yoongi groans at the feeling of your juices soaking his mouth and continues to lick up the remains, thighs still wrapped around his head and shoulder. He really never wants these moments with you to end. He’d be fine if he died, drowning in your juice, but he won’t admit that to you.

When the waves of pleasure finally subside, you collapse your back onto the bed, panting and spent. But this is not the end! You know you have to and want to keep going. They haven't orgasmed yet and you want to make sure they feel just as good as they are making you feel. Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin gather around you on the bed, their hands caressing your skin, their expressions filled with love and adoration.

“Did we overdo it already?” Namjoon worries as he looks at you, completely fucked out.

“That’s because Yoongi hyung was fingering and eating her out too fast! You should’ve edged her out a little more.” Jimin groans, glaring at Yoongi which makes you laugh. “Now we have to wait for round two,”

“It’s fine. Let her rest for now,” Yoongi says, turning onto his side, his hand reaches out and rubs your stomach to comfort you. “Do you want more, my angel?”

You nod before you can even process his words in your brain. Namjoon laughs at your eagerness.

“Want…more…please,” You finally word out, softly.

“Aw, darling is so cute,” Jimin coos, “Don’t worry, I’ll be the one to give you what you need.”

“Hey, what makes you think your fucking her first?” Yoongi says, with a jealous tone in his voice.

“Because I deserve it? Plus I was the one who kissed her first too!” Jimin giggles, pulling you to the edge of the bed and putting a pillow under your ass to lift you a little. “You can let her suck you off for now if you want. Namjoon hyung can get a hand job in the meantime and watch how it’s done.”

Yoongi sighs, but complies, getting on the right side of the bed and positioning himself by your head. “Fine, but only because I want to see her mouth wrapped around me again after so long.”

You feel a shiver of anticipation run through your body as Yoongi’s length comes into view. Your eyes lock onto him as he pulls down his black dress pants and boxers, beginning to stroke himself, his gaze dark and hungry. He sits down next to you and leans his cock next to your mouth. You open your mouth automatically, ready to take him in, and he slowly guides himself between your lips. It’s been a while since you’ve had him, and you remember how girthy his dick is. The taste of him is still as intoxicating as ever, and you hum around him as he thrusts slowly, earning a groan of pleasure from above.

Namjoon quickly makes his move to position himself on the opposite side, unbuckling his belt, pulling down his jeans and boxers. He swiftly slips out his cock. He gently takes your hand in his own rough, warm grip and spits into your palm, before wrapping it around himself. For some reason, this makes your heart flutter. You believe it’s the fact that you learn something new about your best friends every time you fuck them, it seems.

You start by giving a few, testing strokes. You hold as much of his cock as you can manage in your fist. You move at a moderate pace, from tip to base. He shutters a bit, hips threatening to snap into your hand as he’s eager to reach his high.

Meanwhile, Jimin quickly removes his clothes, shrugging off his red-white varsity jacket, pulling off his white t-shirt, and sliding out of his black jeans, his eyes never leaving yours. When he’s completely bare, He places your ankles up on his shoulders and lines himself up with your entrance, teasing your folds with the head of his cock. “Are you ready, darling?” he asks, his voice soft but full of desire.

Yoongi pulls his cock out of your mouth briefly so you can respond. “Y-Yes, please,” you shyly respond, trying to catch your breath as you wiggle your cunt against him. Your body aches for more.

Jimin doesn’t make you wait any longer. He pushes into you slowly, filling you inch by inch until he’s fully seated inside you. Yoongi slides in between your lips once again. You remember how this feeling is beyond overwhelming, and you moan around Yoongi’s cock, the vibrations sending shivers through his body.

“Fuck, she’s still so tight,” Jimin murmurs, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. He starts to move, setting a steady pace that has you seeing stars.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Namjoon praises, his voice deep and soothing as he gently rubs your cheek feeling Yoongi’s length just on the other side.

Yoongi thrusts are quickly going in and out of your mouth as Jimin pumps into you faster, your senses are overwhelmed with pleasure. The sounds of their moans and the sensation of pleasure being fulfilled in two areas edge you to the brink.

Holy fuck.

Even after coming once, you already feel yourself reaching your orgasm once again, and you enter, what you call, a bimbo-like state. Your mind is purely a fog of pleasure, every thought consumed by the sensations coursing through your body, mainly the one from your core.

Namjoon, noticing the dazed look in your eyes, chuckles softly. "Look at you, baby, already gone in the pleasure," he murmurs, his voice filled with adoration. “So fucking cute,”

Jimin’s movements become more urgent and sloppy, his thrusts faster and harder. “I’m so close,” he warns, his voice strained.

Yoongi, seeing that you’re close as well, removes himself so you don’t choke once you start to squirm and shake during your orgasm. Namjoon continues stroking himself as well.

“C-Cum inside me!” You plead out to Jimin, now that your lips are freed to speak your desires. Jimin doesn’t argue with your wish, instead smirking as he feels his own wave of pleasure crashing down.

“F-Fuck…Ah!” With a final, deep thrust, Jimin spills into you, his moans echoing in the room. Being filled is the trigger for you to come undone. A warmth spreads through your body like a radiating glow. You completely surrender to the otherworldly pleasure, that you still don’t understand.

Tears run down your cheeks, mouth agape, as you melt away in bliss. And once again, you lay there, catching your breath. Jimin pulls out as his high dissipates, and once he’s out, he watches both your cums slowly drip out. Namjoon and Yoongi scoot over towards your pussy to watch the sight in awe.

“Fucking hot," Yoongi murmurs, his voice low and husky. He uses his fingers to push the mixture of yours and Jimin's juices back inside you, a wicked smile on his lips. "Save it for later."

Namjoon chuckles, his deep voice sending a thrill through you. "Be good and you'll get a reward later."

You look up at them innocently, your eyes wide and teasing. "Yes.. my loves," you murmur, glancing at each of your lovers. "Um, is it okay if I try something new… like giving one of you a boob job?"

"A boob job?" Yoongi's eyebrows raise in interest as he looks at your breasts, anticipation clear in his eyes. Why the fuck didn’t he think of this before, he thinks. You have perfectly sized breasts to do this.

"I volunteer," Namjoon chimes in, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. Yoongi rolls his eyes as he’s interrupted by the eager golden retriever-like man. It’s his birthday, and he wants to do more with you, but he’ll settle and be patient for now. He knows he’ll be the one to deliver you a better orgasm than them later on.

As you all delve deeper into this arrangement, Namjoon and Yoongi take off all their clothes, standing naked before you. Their muscles ripple under the dim light, showcasing their strength and definition. With all your boyfriends bare like this, the sight of their toned bodies, every curve and line accentuated, turns you on even more, sending a fresh wave of desire coursing through you.

You get up in a sitting position, waiting for Namjoon to hold onto your chest to support himself as you use your fingers to prevent the cum from sliding out of you. At times like this, Jimin wishes he had a plug for you, but he makes a mental note to buy it for next time.

Namjoon couldn’t wait to have his dick between your tits instead. He had dreamt about this at some point previously, but never thought it could happen. The supple skin indulges him, and when he holds your breasts, his cock twitches as your breasts pressed tightly around him. He feels himself discovering a new kink when he starts stroking himself up and down with your chest.

“There you go,” Yoongi mutters, a hand coming up to push a few strands of hair behind your ear. “Such a precious, doll.” Yoongi pats your head, making your cheeks redden at such innocent praise in the middle of seeing his best friend breast fuck you.

This scene alone is enough to make Yoongi and Jimin turned on, but Namjoon actually feeling his cock in between your tits is driving him mad.

Initially, he felt very nervous going into this as he hadn’t done anything like this before. Nor did he understand whatever sexual dynamic you had going on already with Jimin and Yoongi, but he was willing to do anything to understand you more. To love you more. The skin of your breasts feels so soft and silky to him. He feels himself become much harder than he thought he would, almost painfully so. Mainly because of this image: the way you are staring up at him with a sweet look on your face that is incredibly sinful as he watches his cock thrusting in between your tits.

If he continues rocking his hips, he will come. He needs to be inside you. Now.

“Get on all fours,” Namjoon commands with a mix of authority and need. His voice is deep and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. You comply, positioning yourself on your hands and knees, your heart pounding excitedly.

Namjoon moves behind you, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he aligns himself with your entrance. The sensation of his tip pressing against you makes you gasp, your body trembling with need and urgency. “D-Daddy… gimme…now!” You nod eagerly, pushing your ass back slightly to show your readiness.

He pauses for a moment, glancing at you and chuckling. Oh? Oh god, that came out so suddenly. While a part of you began to panic, worried that he might find this weird, he seems to not feel repulsed by it. Instead, you hit a nail.

His breath is hot against your skin as he leans forward, whispering in your ear, “Daddy? Oh baby, just wait just a minute. I'm going to give you exactly what you need.”

With a low growl, Namjoon slowly enters you, filling you. The stretch is delicious, and you moan loudly, your fingers digging into the sheets beneath you.

Then suddenly, his hips snap into your cunt and you feel his tip kiss your g-spot within seconds. You tense and curl your back inwards, feeling the sensation grow with every thrust. Namjoon is just a god at this position, easily fucking you as if it is second nature. His cock thrusts in and out of you in perfect rhythm, slapping against your ass loudly. But you both don’t seem to care.

“F-fuck…D-Daddy!” You gasp, burying your head against your mattress, “A-ah.. I- mm ha-...f-fuck.” Your words aren’t exactly a sentence, but it is music to his ears. You can’t help it. Namjoon being inside you just makes you want to scream ever since the first time you had sex with him about a week ago. The fact he just keeps going and going, without a care for how sensitive you are turns you on beyond belief.

Namjoon’s hand brushes against your hip and presses down at the small of your back, pushing your back from curling inwards to arching back again, “There we go… good girl. I want you to stay arched for me, okay pretty girl?” You whimper and nod a few times, looking back to see him intensely staring at your form. He rubs small circles into your back and holds you there, keeping you arched for his big cock.

Jimin and Yoongi sit in front of you against the headboard, stroking their dicks as they watch Namjoon have his way with you. They are just as turned on as you are, their eyes never leaving the sight of Namjoon's hard cock sliding inside you and your breasts jiggling from the movement. Both of their cocks throb with need, pre-cum dripping down their shafts.

"You're such a good girl," Yoongi purrs, his voice heavy with lust. "Let your other daddy prepare you for me."

Jimin nods in agreement, stroking his dick faster. The sight of you taking Namjoon's cock like this, so eagerly and willingly, is a huge turn-on for him. He wants to be inside you again, to feel you wrap your tight walls around his dick. So he gets up moving right in front of your mouth, grabbing your chin to guide it to his cock, which remains hard once again.

Your lips open immediately, eager to please Jimin. Jimin loves to be the center of attention, and you don’t mind that. You want to make him feel good. But once it’s Yoongi’s turn, you’re going to ravish him with so much love and attention for his patience.

As Jimin thrusts into your mouth, Namjoon continues to fuck you from behind, your bodies moving in sync. He repeatedly slams his girthy length deep in your cunt, practically begging you to squirt on his shaft. And god you are so close to cumming. You notice Namjoon is getting close too. You can tell from how his thrusts are getting sloppier, or how his hand presses deeper into your back, forcing your arch lower and lower.

“Fuck…” Namjoon groans, leaning forward to rest his head against your mid back. You feel his balls smack against your cunt, with his body pressing down against yours as you two become one. He can tell you were close, muttering, “You’re going to cum…huh, baby girl?”

You let out a loud moan rumbling against Jimin’s cock as a response, with your hips jerking up. It feels so good to the point where you can't control your bodily movements anymore. Namjoon sits back up, growling under his breath and then stiffens. You don’t realize what is happening until you feel a warm load shoot deep into your pussy, the sensation tips you over the edge causing you to cum as well. You hold onto Jimin’s thighs for dear life as he continues his moments, tears pooling at your eyes as you try your best not to choke.

Load after load shoots into your walls and coats you in white, milking him completely dry. Namjoon’s cum now mixes with yours and Jimin’s juices.

But holy shit... and you thought the first time with him was crazy, but Namjoon is just constantly filled with surprises. His hand presses into your back again, keeping you arched as he rides out his high.

Jimin pulls out first, followed by Namjoon, who slowly comes to a stop before withdrawing from inside you. The sudden emptiness leaves you breathless, and you collapse onto the bed, utterly spent.

Your body feels sore and exhausted, every muscle aching from the intensity of the experience. Maybe you should start working out if you're going to be engaging in these types of activities moving forward, you think with a wry smile.

"You were amazing," Namjoon murmurs, his voice tender as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Yoongi, you’re up.” He gives a head nod signaling towards the other man who has been patiently waiting his turn.

However, Yoongi shakes his head. “Not yet. Doll just had like three orgasms in the last 40 minutes.” He gets up from the bed and grabs a water bottle, opening it before lifting your head gently to feed it to you. “Gotta keep you hydrated because the last round is going to be a tough one.”

You take a grateful sip of water, feeling the cool liquid soothe your dry throat. Yoongi’s thoughtful gesture brings a smile to your lips, and you can see the concern and care in his eyes. He sets the bottle aside, his fingers brushing your hair back gently.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his thumb stroking your cheek.

You nod, feeling a bit of your energy return. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you.”

Yoongi smiles, his gaze warm and reassuring. “No problem, love. Just wanted to make sure.”

Namjoon and Jimin settle beside you, their hands gently caressing your skin, helping you relax further. God, you really chose the right men to fall in love with.

You already anticipate what you want to do next, which is riding Yoongi and letting someone else squeeze in. You want it to be Namjoon again, but his size is a little bigger than theirs, so you’re nervous to try. But that deep desire to feel them inside of you together, to feel them come undone with nothing separating them, was twisting and surging through your body.

“Can you lay down for me, baby? I’m getting on top,” you say to Yoongi, and he complies immediately, stretching out on the bed beneath you.

You straddle Yoongi, positioning yourself over him, with slow trails of cum starting to drip down. He looks up at you with dark, hungry eyes, his hands resting on your hips. You lower yourself slowly, feeling the delicious stretch as he fills you, coating himself with the cum of all his best friends. You moan softly, adjusting to the sensation of his girth, and Yoongi groans, his grip on your hips tightening.

As you begin to move, rocking your hips gently at first, you feel Namjoon and Jimin's hands on you, their touches encouraging and reassuring. The rhythm builds, and you lose yourself in the pleasure, the connection between you and Yoongi deepening with every movement.

“Is this what you wanted, doll?” Yoongi asks, his voice husky and deep.

“Yes,” you breathe, your hands resting on his chest for support as you increase the pace. “Feels good.”

“Had to save the best for last.” Yoongi chuckles confidently, his side smirk peaking out which only drives you insane.

Namjoon and Jimin continue to caress you, their hands roaming over your back, your thighs, your breasts, adding to the sensory overload. You feel a hand slip between your legs, and you realize it's Namjoon's, his fingers expertly finding your clit and adding to the intense pleasure.

You gasp, the combined sensations driving you closer to the edge. “I want more,” you manage to say, your voice trembling with need.

Namjoon leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “Tell us what you need, baby.”

“I want you… inside me too,” you confess, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness.

Namjoon and Yoongi exchange a look, understanding and excitement in their eyes. Namjoon positions himself behind you, his hands gentle but firm as he prepares to join you. Your mouth runs dry and you wriggle your ass, begging without words for what you know he is about to give you. A gasp falls from your lips as you feel the tip of his cock press against the place where you are already full. Your wetness drips down Yoongi’s shaft covering him in that cum mixture and making things ready for Namjoon to join the two of you.

“I'm so desperate to be inside of you, baby, but I don't want to hurt you,” he whispers, thrusting his hips just enough for you to feel his swollen head pressing into your entrance, the pressure forcing Yoongi’s cock more firmly against the other side of you, your clit throbbing mercilessly at the press of him so near to your clit.

“You won't,” you moan, lost in the thrill of what your lovers were promising to you, the tip of Namjoon’s cock throbbing just inside of your folds as Yoongi’s shaft swells deep within, his hand rising to lift your chin and bring your mouth to his.

“Tell us if it's too much,” Yoongi breathes against your lips, as he holds steady while Namjoon pushes slowly into you, your body stretching around him as you whimper at the tight burn of him slipping further in.

A poem of moans falls from all three of them as Namjoon’s hard cock slides against Yoongi’s as he seeks to join you two inside. The first few inches of him finally enveloped in your heat and pressed tightly against the firm underside of his best friend’s cock. His upper body falls lightly against your back as he trembles, fighting the urge to push himself further in. He knows both his and Yoongi’s sizes are on the bigger side, which makes him worried about hurting you. But in your fucked out haze, you plead for him to go on.

You revel in the thickness pressing against you from both sides, burning you from within. Your breasts rub against Yoongi’s chest as you kiss each other lazily, tasting Jimin lightly as well. Namjoon’s lips trace your upper back, mouthing pecks against your skin and carefully flexing his hips, his cock throbbing mercilessly as it stretches your walls even more, sliding another inch into your leaking pussy.

"Even after fucking two of us, you're still so tight," Namjoon murmurs, his voice wrecked and breath shuddering against your skin. He’s struggling to hold himself back, unable to push any more of his length into you but unwilling to relinquish the tight grip of your walls that he's already claimed. “Tiny…”

“There,” Yoongi murmurs roughly, his hand pressing more firmly against your body as he pulls out his hips, his cock slips from your heat just enough that its head rubs against Namjoon’s. They both growl profanities as they meet within you.

Yoongi continues to move beneath you, his thrusts deep and steady, his hands gripping your hips to guide your movements. The feeling of both of them inside you is almost too much, but the pleasure is overwhelming, drowning out everything else.

"Oh my god..." Your eyes widen as they start moving inside you together. You feel Namjoon shifting on top of you, sliding himself forward as Yoongi pulls out momentarily. The sinful sounds of your wetness coating them both mix with the harmony of their moans as they find a natural rhythm. Yoongi thrusts deeply within you as Namjoon pulls nearly free, the thick muscles of their cocks stroking one another as they claim you entirely. Namjoon plunges back into your pussy as Yoongi retreats, the pleasant burn that accompanies their movements fading into a latent heat that only stokes the neediness within you.

Jimin leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “You’re doing so well, doll. Just a little more.”

He takes this time to make you take his dick in your mouth once more. You open your mouth eagerly, wrapping your lips around him, the familiar taste and feel of him sending a fresh wave of arousal through you. Jimin groans softly, his hand gently cradling the back of your head as you move from Yoongi and Namjoon’s thrusts, your tongue swirling around his tip before taking him deeper.

Yoongi can feel his climax nearing quickly, the tightness throbbing and pulsing with a need to break free, Namjoon’s thick member stroking along the ridge of his shaft before withdrawing and sliding deep once again. The pressure is amplified by the mixture of all your cums running down his shaft and slicking his balls where they slap against each other.

“Oh God, fuck...!” Yoongi roughly growls, thrusting to completion.

“Mmh..!” You could only manage to rumble out at Yoongi’s sudden spurts of white coating you and Namjoon. Then, as if all timed, Namjoon releases himself inside you again and Jimin comes in your mouth as well. This is truly an out of body experience at this point as your holes are filled to the brim by your best friends turned lovers.

And to end it all up, your own coil of pleasure inside you snaps, sending waves through your body almost painfully as you finally come. Your neck arches, a cry of euphoria pouring from your mouth as your core clenches around them. Namjoon's thrusts slow as your walls throb erratically, squeezing them within you. Yoongi bucks beneath you, his cock swelling, his balls drawing up and tightening as he erupts into you. Namjoon groans brokenly on top of you both, following suit, his nails digging into Yoongi's arm as they pump you full of their seed. The heat and rush of their essences painting your walls only heighten their joint pleasure, their cocks throbbing as their cum leaks around their shafts and drips from your pink folds.

They all pull out slowly, gently placing you on the bed with your head elevated by a pillow. You can barely keep your eyes open—holy shit, you’re tapping out for the night. There are other things you want to try, but for now, you’ll call it a night.

However, they're not done. They gather at the foot of the bed, their eyes fixated on the final sight of their combined release dripping out from inside you.

"Kinda want to taste it," Jimin adds, making you blush deeply. You're starting to sober up from the haze, and a part of you thinks this is actually kind of gross. But a couple gentle licks won't hurt, right?

"We should do it as a pact and then give her hickeys to solidify this deal that we're going to be with her forever," Namjoon suggests, winking at you from below.

They exchange looks, a mix of mischief and sincerity in their eyes, and then lean in towards your heat and pepper out kitten-like licks towards your pussy. The slight overstimulation makes you wiggle in place, and they hold you down to prevent you from accidentally crushing them with your thighs. Their tongues take turns entering you as well, with Jimin’s long tongue making it further inside to clean the remnants

After a bit of licking, they clean you up perfectly, and climb up your body to leave hickeys. Namjoon opts for your neck. Yoongi opts for your left shoulder. And Jimin opts for your right breast.

"There we go, all marked up so all the guys on campus know you’re ours,” Jimin giggles, his fingers lightly tracing over the hickey he left on your breast.

“T-That… wasn’t necessary… guys,” you stutter, trying to argue with him. Despite the undeniable pleasure you felt moments ago, the marks on your skin now pose a practical problem with warmer weather approaching. You will definitely not be able to go out without having eyes questioning you. Oh well.

“Gotta take precautions so we don’t have Jaebeom trying to get at you again,” Yoongi chuckles, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he recalls the memorable party that initiated this passionate turn of events.

“And Mingyu from Sigma Lambda Tau,” Jimin adds quietly, his voice tinged with a hint of possessiveness. “Heard from Jackson and Matthew that two Nu Kappa guys were crushing on you in the library too.”

“Oh, fuck no,” Namjoon declares firmly, crossing his arms and clenching his jaw in frustration, while Yoongi’s expression darkens slightly. “I had seen them looking at her before too.”

“Huh?” You're genuinely surprised at this revelation of admirers. Where were they before all of this? Why are guys like this?

You sigh, “I’m too tired for this… Let’s save it for another time.” Despite the playful banter and the curiosity sparked by your boyfriends’ reactions, exhaustion is starting to creep in, urging you toward sleep after four orgasms. The attention of other men no longer matters when you're nestled among your closest friends.

“Anyways, how do you feel, princess?” Yoongi’s tone softens as he brings his attention back to you, poking your cheek gently with a mix of curiosity and satisfaction.

You open your eyes slowly, feeling a warm glow in their presence. "That was...fucking incredible," you reply softly, your voice still tinged with lingering pleasure. "Best fuck of my life."

Namjoon chuckles beside you, his fingertips now gently tracing patterns on your skin. "Good to hear," he murmurs, his gaze tender as he looks at you with affection.

“I’ll grab a washcloth from your bathroom and give you a quick clean before we cuddle up and sleep,” Jimin offers, his voice warm and reassuring as he moves to take care of you, ensuring comfort and intimacy in the aftermath of your shared experience.

Jimin returns with a warm, damp washcloth, gently cleaning your core with care, ensuring you're comfortable and cared for. Meanwhile, Namjoon and Yoongi lay beside you, their hands offering soothing rubs to ease any residual tension. The gentle touches and the quiet intimacy of the moment slowly lull you into a deep, restful slumber. Jimin joins the bed on Yoongi’s side after he finishes.

You don't remember much afterward, the warmth of their legs wrapped around you and the security of their presence cocooning you into a profound sense of peace. You haven’t felt like this in the longest time. Probably since that time you spent with your ex-boyfriend. But now…

Everything has fallen into place.

“I love you guys so much.” You mumble, pressed against Namjoon and Yoongi’s chests and before you drift into sleep, you hear all three of your boyfriends respond back with the same words.

But whatever happens in the future, you think you will be alright, just by having Namjoon, Yoongi and Jimin by your side.

Who would’ve thought that this all began when you realized you started to really love them, lately?

Finally, they let you love them too.

—

ONE LAST tbc !!!!! :D

a/n: as i mentioned previously, we only have one more chapter to go! it is the epilogue: shift (outro). we are past the angst, so don't worry about that (i think...). I had a lot of left over smut scenes i initially wrote for this, but didn't want to be repetitive so i will insert it into the epilogue heheheheh. ch 12/epilogue will come out in the next 2 weeks. I'm almost done writing it, but I still need to add a little more and fix some things, plus editor rae proofreading. i hope you guys enjoyed the ride this far, and i'll see you in the epilogue! i will be adding more notes regarding the series later on!

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