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opaljm · 4 years ago

Text

nip it in the bud (m) – kth

➻ female reader x taehyung

➻ going to get a piercing au/completing bucket list au + my brother’s best friend au + tattoo artist!taehyung

➻ genres: smut, romance

➻ length & status: 10k words; complete

➻ rating & warnings: 18+; taehyung has tattoos and piercings, he and his big hands are illegal, tae's oral fixation is entirely out of control, nipple sucking/breast play, semi-public sex (? idk tbh), the pussy eating he does is sloppy and gross, squirting, nasty/messy sex, unprotected sex (wear a condom and be safe kids OR ELSE), riding, creampie, pussy stuffing cuz tae has a big dick (I don’t think you understand it’s GIGANTIC), multiple orgasms

➻ summary: You're not sure how you ended up here, but maybe a shitty ex and a horrible breakup had a hand in what placed you in front of the tattoo parlor. It was already a nerve-wracking experience, but what you never expected was seeing that the owner and artist giving you nipple piercings was your older brother's best friend you hadn't seen in ages. to make things even worse, he got fucking hotter.

➻ a/n: this was born out of a TikTok where I learned that tattoo artists have to make sure your nipples are hard before piercing them and then I yelled at @jamaisjoons, having an existential crisis about how hot that was. She is the one who told me to write about it 😌 and the reason the fic exists. The last time I got piercings was idk 16 years ago (yes I was 7 🥴). I also have zero tattoos so my knowledge of this is minimal I just wanted to write hot Taehyung sex. Hope y’all enjoy this mess regardless. beta-read by @taegularities @hantaev & @chateautae (she helped with the summary too🤩) my favorite tae accounts who have encouraged me so much during this arduous writing process! beta-read and banner made by @softestmuse! You all were there for me for so much during this whole thing and helped so much 🥺

⋆ my masterlist ⋆

Were you actually going to do this? Was this really happening?

As you stood in front of the tattoo parlor christened “Inked in Blue & Grey,” by the messily arranged jagged font that laid out the cobalt blue neon letters decorating the shopfront, you almost chickened out.

When you had been scrolling through Yelp late at night two weeks ago, flitting between the stages of depression and bargaining as you made your way through the grief from the breakup between you and your ex, Donghyuk, your eyes had stopped on the highly rated tattoo parlor – 4.9 stars? That was practically unheard of, especially when they had reviews and ratings in the tens of thousands. It hadn’t taken much for you, with eyes hurting from the blue light of your cellphone in the late hours and a head aching from how wine drunk you were, to quickly find the link to their website and sign up for an appointment to get twin nipple piercings. Well, no one ever wanted a singular nipple piercing to your knowledge. But you had no doubt that there were countless people out there who had chickened out from the pain of the first to not follow through with the second one.

You slowly pulled your lower lip with your teeth, softly biting down on the plump flesh as you had your head tilted up towards the intimidatingly bright letters of the parlor’s sign. The last time you had gotten any piercings was in summer camp ten years ago when Yuju had stabbed your ears through with a sewing needle. The needle had been unbearably hot from having been heated by the flame of the fluid lighter she had snuck into camp by tucking it in the black Nike crew socks she had been wearing on drop off day. It had stung you with the quick flashing pain of a burning stab wound.

Yuju had been your last resort to get additional ear piercings which you had thought were so cool after you saw your brother walk into the house one day with several new helix piercings to go along with his lobe ones. You had begged your mother for another set of piercings, tired of having the boring set of two you had. You wouldn’t get them in the cartilage like Jimin had but wanted to add to your lobe. Your mother had vehemently denied your protests and grounded Jimin for sneaking out and getting piercings with his best friend Taehyung.

You had complained about it to your cabin mates, who had seen the scores of tween and teen campers swoon over your brother and his friends who seemed edgy and dangerous. Your friends however were immune to their appeal and knew that they weren’t much more than geeky nerds who carefully hid their embarrassing tastes in both anime and porn. Hearing thirteen-year-old Y/N complain about her plight in the late-night whispers covered by the chirping of crickets that kept the night camp counselors from checking in on your cabin, Yuju had jumped down from her bunk into yours and eagerly offered to help you increase your total number of piercings up to four.

Looking back, you had no idea why you had trusted Yuju’s dubious claims of working at the Claire’s in the mall close to her house for three months. Later on, you found out that it had actually been Yuju’s older sister who had had the nice mall gig. The incident had left you with piercings that kept getting infected until one of them finally closed up, and you were still rocking the asymmetrical ear-piercing look, almost a decade later with one dangly earring threaded with stars on your right ear while a cubic zirconium stud and gold bedazzled moon clipped your left ear. You never saw the point of getting them fixed and had avoided piercings and needles to the best of your abilities until now.

You thought you pulled off the mixed jewelry look pretty well, but your face instantly scrunched up with an unhappy frown when you remembered Donghyuk telling you to wear matching earrings when you went out on dates with him. You bit down on the flesh of your bottom lip harder as you recalled how Donghyuk had constantly berated you and put you down for the entire duration of your three-year long relationship. Your face twisted as though a bitter taste had flooded your mouth when you remembered that your mother had been expecting him to propose to you this year. Why had you begged him for another chance when he callously threw your arms off him as he stomped around the apartment gathering up his things, ignoring your pleas and requests for an explanation until he couldn’t take it anymore? Then Donghyuk had turned around to you, glaring at you with the heat of his hard black-brown eyes, staring you down resentfully from his towering height of 6’2.

“I broke up with you because I’m tired of having such mind-numbingly vanilla sex with a woman who never comes. You’re so boring and honestly, I’m just not attracted to you anymore, Y/N. I thought I could change the meek mousy weirdo. But after three years, it looks like I was wrong,” he had said with a caustic bite to the venomous hate he spewed from his mouth.

Yes. You remembered exactly why you had booked that appointment in the fuzzy high you had gotten from too much wine and “Emily in Paris.” You had been so livid. Of all people, Donghyuk thought you were boring? Unadventurous, and vanilla? You were the one who was always holding yourself back from being too enthusiastic during sex because he could only get off when he was doing you doggy style with his hand covering your mouth in what he thought was his attempt at BDSM in the bedroom.

Your eyes lit up with renewed heat and you found yourself marching forward to the door and swinging it towards you with a powerful pull as you made your way in. Your newfound confidence only lasted until you made your way to the receptionist. There, you found yourself fumbling once more.

“Hi, I’m Park Y/N,” you stammered nervously, “I – uh, I made an appointment for… um nipple piercings,” you whispered the last bit, embarrassedly as your neck straightened and you twisted your head around to make sure no one else had overheard you. “Two weeks ago? I made my piercing appointment a while back,” you finished more confidently.

The receptionist stared at you expressionlessly. “What time is your appointment?” she asked, tucking back a vibrant purple lock of hair behind her ear.

“It’s – it’s the one o’ clock,” you mumbled, clearing your throat uneasily. You had never been in an establishment like this before and dressed in your oversized sage colored waffle knit sweater and a pair of charcoal gray Lululemon leggings you felt wildly out of place.

“Alright Y/N, here are the forms you need to fill out before you do this,” she said easily, plucking out the thick stapled document out of a manila folder. “Just a reminder, this is a semi-permanent body modification and this will close up rather quickly if you go without wearing jewelry for too long. There are pages on your medical history and if you have any allergies on the front. Prices and payment information are on the pages following that. The documents explaining the procedure and aftercare are at the end. We’ll send you home with a list of instructions on how to care for your new piercings after your appointment ends as well.”

You blinked, overwhelmed by the staggering amount of information she had just thrown your way. As you sat down at the oatmeal colored sherpa sofa at the reception and read through all the health risks and warnings, making sure you were taking in all of the information, carefully signing all the lines and checking off all the boxes, you wondered if you were in over your head.

Technically, it wasn’t too late for you to turn your back on this. You would lose your deposit, but you could still walk away – pain free. What would Jimin do if he found out that you had gotten your nipples pierced? Probably murder you, based on how he had reamed you and Yuju out after your ears had gotten infected from swimming in the lake the camp had been located next to. But would you really let your overbearing annoying older brother control you even now when you were 23? And how would Jimin even know about you getting these very intimate piercings?

You only saw him a few times a year. There was no way Jimin would be finding out about this, nipples were more discreet than ears and you couldn’t even remember the last time you had been around your brother in clothing that would even hint that you had boobs, much less nipples. Jimin had only ever seen you in oversized T-shirts, flannel pajama bottoms or baggy sweats, and giant zip-up hoodies when he had the fortune of being in your company. No wonder he sometimes forgot you were a girl.

Once you finished up the paperwork, you made your way back to the girl at the front desk with the clipboard. Placing it down on the counter, you took out your credit card to pay up front, with your id card beside it as verification on top of the terrazzo surface, but she shook her head, “You pay at the end for the piercings and the jewelry you pick. Personally, I prefer nipple clickers,” she said wryly, twisting her lips into a smirk.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you mumbled as you watched her stand up and come around to you.

“Follow me, I’ll take you to the private room we have for the more intimate tattoos and piercings. There’s only one artist in today but he should be finishing up with his other client soon. You’ll probably only have to wait 5 to 10 minutes for V,” she threw her words over her shoulder carelessly as she guided you through the narrow hallway.

When she closed the door behind you and left you alone in the room, you felt rather like you were at the doctor’s waiting for your gynecologist to come in and the panic quickly set in once again. Should you have your shirt off and be ready for the piercing? Or would the tattoo artist be freaked out if he was instantly assaulted with the image of your breasts the second he opened the door? Should you sit up on the wide leather covered table or continue to stand while staring awkwardly at the door waiting for the artist to walk in?

As you looked around the small room, your eyes caught on the artwork decorating the walls. They were on white backgrounds that were framed and looked like post-impressionist portraits. The color scheme stuck to black and the primary colors, while the faces had the boldest of expressions painted over them. Extraordinary, you thought, as the door opened behind you.

“Hi, I’m V. I'll be the artist who is piercing you today. I see you’ve signed up for two nipple piercings?” A deep sensual voice flooded into the room, making you shudder involuntarily.

You turned back and saw a male looking down at the clipboard with the forms you had filled out, his face was half covered by an indigo face mask dotted with silver embroidered stars while the other half was concealed by the soft looking black waves that were flowing forward as his bangs swept over his forehead and obscured his eyes.

“Yes, that’s right,” you nervously tittered, “Should I– should I take off my top?”

“Mmhmm,” he murmured, his eyes quickly sweeping over you, barely looking at you, as he continued on professionally, “Could you also take off your bra and tie back your hair before sitting up on the table?”

V turned around to the cabinets to get out the clamps and needles he would need to pierce you. As he bustled around gathering purple latex gloves and alcohol wipes, he asked in his soothing husky voice, “So what type of jewelry are we thinking? Titanium straight barbells? White gold hoops?”

“Which one is better?” you asked, shuddering in the air-conditioned room as your arms prickled up with goosebumps and you wrapped your arms around your naked upper half.

“Most people get the straight barbells; they find them to be the most comfortable,” V said as he tinkered around with the selection of nipple rings, “Titanium is hypoallergenic so it’s a really good metal choice. If you’re more sensitive to metals I would probably recommend gold but that’s a little more expensive. Any special closures you’re looking for? Star attachments at the end? Moons?”

“Just the basic white gold straight barbells with the star ends,” you muttered quietly. You’d worry about getting more decorative adornments for your nipples when they fully healed from the piercings and you were more accustomed to them. For now, the cute stars at the ends, instead of spherical stoppers, would be enough.

V readied everything on a small table with wheels that he pushed to one side of where you were sitting. As he pulled his gloves on, he said, “I’m going to clean your nipples and then I'll flick them to make sure they are erect enough that I can comfortably clamp them and pierce the needle through them, okay? Let me know if at any moment I am making you feel uncomfortable, sound good?”

You hummed your assent and V finally looked up from his equipment, an alcohol wipe in his hand as he reached forward for your left breast. Before he made contact however, his eyes met yours.

“Y/N?” he yelped in shock, his large gloved fingers brushing against your nipple for the briefest of moments in his shock before he recovered and recoiled from you as though he had been struck.

Your brows furrowed as you confusedly inquired, “Taehyung?”

The two of you stared at each other in shock. The male who was standing in front of you with the Van Gogh-esque vines and branches wrapping their way up his right arm and covering his throat surely could not be the Kim Taehyung you had grown up with. This could not be your brother Jimin’s childhood best friend. This could not be the former bane of your existence.

“Yes,” breathed Taehyung, still gaping at you with his mouth wide open from behind his mask, not that you could see. You noted that he respectively maintained eye contact with you the entire time, not letting his eyes dip below your gaze. Shrugging on your muted green sweater you glared at him. The second you were covered, Taehyung gazed upwards to the rafters and murmured a not so silent prayer much to your displeasure.

“Y/N why are you getting your– ” Taehyung stopped, obviously struggling with how to word his question while not wanting to talk about his best friend’s younger sister’s nipples. “Why are you getting more piercings?” he said instead with what you thought was highly misplaced affront. “Remember when you almost died because of Yuju in eighth grade?”

Taehyung was so dramatic. You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest, noting with satisfaction that a red flush was spreading across his golden skin as you held your gaze.

Taehyung had been a junior in high school and the camp counselor assigned to all the cabins in the row yours had been in the same summer Yuju had gone ham with your ears. He had also gotten his ass handed to him when Jimin had found out that instead of making sure the campers were asleep he had been sucking face with Jennie Kim every night.

You scowled, annoyed by how the Taehyung in front of you was a long way away from the gangly nerd with unattractive rectangle framed dad glasses and straight brown hair cut into an unflattering bowl cut that you remembered. Sure, everyone had always talked about how attractive Taehyung had been growing up, but you had never seen it. Taehyung had been a geek who had a penchant for weird outfits with his loose fit/too short culottes, brightly colored oversized crewnecks that were more hole than sweater thanks to his overeager hands when it came to snipping with scissors, and black beat-up converse lows. He had been the furthest thing from what you were into back in the day. However, the man standing in front of you right now? He was almost intimidatingly beautiful. A stunning Adonis, so gorgeous that even Aphrodite had fallen in love.

Taehyung had pulled off his mask and was frowning at you, his petal pink lips pressed thinly together. Your eyes widened when you noticed the glint of silver peeking out between his lips. Taehyung had a piercing on his tongue.

“Are you trying to police my right to have piercings?” you angrily demanded, “You work at a tattoo parlor! You have seven piercings.”

His beautiful dark brows pulled down as his wavy hair swept forward covering one of his eyes again, but he hectically moved his hair away from his face as he looked at you in abrupt alarm, “How could you possibly know that?!”

You froze in confusion, halting your impassioned tirade. Taehyung had seven piercings? You looked at him straight on again, your eyes flitting across his body, scanning him from head to toe. You had known about his five ear piercings. He had gotten them with Jimin when the two of them had still been in high school and you would see Taehyung everyday either at school or your house because of how often he would be over. The only facial piercing he had was his tongue. Where was the seventh? As your gaze drifted down his front, it stopped at his chest. Though you had been thinking about people with only one nipple piercing earlier, you somehow didn’t think Taehyung would be in that crowd.

Your gaze finally stopped awkwardly at his crotch which was concealed by his black jeans. You stilled at the thought of Taehyung having a piercing on his cock and tried to look away quickly after you came to the realization.

Unfortunately for you, Taehyung hadn’t planned on making it easy for you. A large veiny hand palmed at his denim covered crotch. “Are you having dirty thoughts about my dick, Y/N?” murmured Taehyung.

“I’m not!” you protested. “I’m just here for my piercing appointment so get on with it, Taehyung! Treat me like one of your usual customers!”

You grabbed at the bottom of your sweater again and this time, instead of just holding it up above your breasts for Taehyung, you pulled the entire thing off. With your bare chest still heaving, you attempted to straighten your back, meeting Taehyung’s eyes confidently.

Taehyung held your gaze with heat behind his chocolaty brown eyes for long interminable minutes. A sense of understanding seemed to pass between the two of you before he bit his lips and grated, “Fine, Y/N.”

Taehyung went back to the table where he had been preparing his equipment, making sure that he had gathered everything before pushing it along to stand right next to where you were seated. He sat down on a circular stool with wheels and slid towards you, using his feet to propel him forward.

Sighing once he was in front of you, he squirted hand sanitizer on his purple encased hands to make sure they were still clean, though he hadn’t touched anything other than your jewelry to resterilize them after his panicked realization that you were his client. He slowly and thoroughly rubbed his palms together, working the sanitizer in between his fingers, taking as much time as he could to delay the inevitable and then fanned them to dry. You were mesmerized by the size of his hands. They were so big they could probably cover your boobs with room to spare even though you were a rather busty girl yourself. You whimpered a little as you watched him at work.

Taehyung had heard you making that sound but he tried to ignore it. You were making it hard for him to think straight. He had never once thought that one day his dick would fall for Jimin’s crybaby little sister that he had annoyed at every opportunity he had gotten when he was younger. He had been trying to avoid direct eye contact with your uncovered upper half without much success. Your two voluptuous teardrop breasts seemed to be begging for his attention with their perky upturned nipples, hard due to the cold air drafting into the room. And below your breasts was your tiny waist and heavenly hips. You were shaped like the hourglass filled with black sand that he had for decoration in this room.

He had already sterilized the white gold bars that you had wanted, and cleaning them a third time would only make you have an angry outburst again he was sure, but now it was time for him to get your nipples ready. He matter-of-factly ripped open an alcohol wipe, unfolding the drenched white sheet within the packet. It was finally time for him to touch you. He didn’t think he had ever been so unnerved in his life.

Pulling the seat as close to the table that you were on as he comfortably could, he reached out for you. One of his large hands clutched your side, long fingers splayed over your ribs to hold you in place, as his other hand delicately swiped at your nipples with the alcohol wipe. You were frozen like a statue, not even daring to breathe as Taehyung was at work, his face only inches away from your breasts. Too soon, or so you had thought, his hands went away to grab the surgical scrub to further ensure that your nipples were as clean and disinfected as possible before he went to work and actually stabbed your chest to create the piercings.

You sighed as his hands returned to your chest again. Taehyung had moved on from cleaning your skin to etching them with a marker to indicate where your piercings would be. He cupped the underside of one of your breasts with his left hand while his right hand carefully drew blue dots on either side of your nipples that were parallel to each other. He then switched over to your other breast and drew on the dots to replicate what he had marked before as symmetrically as possible.

The scratchiness of the pen tip hardened your nipples even more than they had been and wetness pooled in between your pressed thighs. When he was done his palm was flat against your abdomen, pushing you back, “You’ll want to lie down Y/N just to be cautious. Some people get their piercings done sitting but there is the possibility that you’ll faint so I just want everything to be safe for you.”

As you laid back to rest on top of the butcher paper covering the cool leather of the table, you panicked. Taehyung was really going to do this. He was treating you like a paying customer, which you were, but you found yourself wishing that he wasn’t acting so professionally and had tried harder to dissuade you from getting these piercings, especially since you were having second thoughts about this.

He finally returned to face you again, holding a steel contraption that looked like scissors but the ends were flat with little holes. He had his fingers threaded through the clamps he was going to use to hold your nipple as he pricked through it with a long sterilized needle.

Taehyung sighed, “I’m going to have to flick and touch your nipples a lot. I’m sure you’re aware of that already but it might take a little more finagling than you thought. It might not be a one and done process where the clamps are perfectly on on the first try. Just, tell me if it’s too much or I’m making you uncomfortable and I’ll immediately back off. Okay, Y/N?”

You nodded mutely. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. What if you threw up all over Taehyung the second you opened your mouth?

Taehyung held your right nipple in between his forefinger and thumb, gauging its firmness before determining that it wasn’t erect enough. He flicked it with his finger, and you had to stifle your reaction, the hardness of his nail bed, even through the latex glove, catching you by surprise. Finally, he was ready to use the clamps.

You breathed through your mouth as the metal clamps pinched your delicate mauve areola to hold the bud of your nipple in place. Leaving the equipment dangling from the edge of your breast, Taehyung turned back around to grab the needle he had prepared.

While Taehyung had been focused on the next step, you had managed to further your panicked state and were almost hyperventilating. Your lips were pressed tightly together and your hands had furled themselves into clenched fists that had your fingers digging into the thin white butcher paper beneath you, ripping it as your nails dug tiny indentations into the smooth leather underneath.

Before Taehyung went ahead with the first of your piercings, he glanced at your face, like he did with all his clients to make sure that everything was still going smoothly. What he found had him putting the needle down again. Your face was white with fear and your eyes were filled with liquid.

“Hey,” murmured Taehyung softly, his gloved hand cupping your cheek. “What’s up Y/N? You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

“No!” you protested fiercely.

“Miss Park Y/N,” teased Taehyung, striving to adopt a lighthearted tone, “Come on, is it just nerves? You can tell me. If I know what’s wrong then I can help you fix it. Do you not wanna get these done today?”

You sighed, “Taehyung, it’s just. I don’t know. Why am I even doing this?”

“Hmm,” hummed Taehyung, steepling his fingers, his warm brown eyes glancing at you comfortingly, “A very good question. Why are you doing this? We don’t want you getting a piercing for the wrong reasons. What is it? Have you been down in the dumps and need some change? Well maybe it’ll help you but maybe it won’t and then you’ll end up with far more piercings than you ever thought you would.”

“Is that what happened with you?” you whispered. Now that Taehyung wasn’t actively working on getting your piercings done, you had covered your chest again with your hands cupping your breasts.

“Not exactly,” admitted Taehyung, “Maybe at first when I was getting the piercings with Jimin, but later on as I got more serious about art and creating, it became a way for me to express myself to the world. A way to solidify my character and what I wanted to be known for and associated with. I really had fun once I started adding the tattoos in,” he laughed huskily. His cheeks came with his boxy wide spread grin. You had missed Taehyung. Though granted, he had been annoying for much of your childhood, you’d had a lot of fun with him. You adored Taehyung, you realized belatedly. Though perhaps realizing it while you were topless was not the best time for your epiphany, you thought as blush took over you, blood rushing to the surface of your skin, painting your cheeks, ears, and chest a muted red.

“Will you tell me where the seventh piercing is?” you asked softly, pushing yourself up.

Taehyung stared at you, his gaze going in between your face and your uncovered form, its heat was infectious and made your own skin flush even further in its wake.

“Perhaps,” he agreed, “Although, you’ll have to tell me what pulled you into this studio today, first.”

You pouted, “It’s really dumb.”

“This is a safe place,” Taehyung smirked winningly. He repeatedly raised and lowered his thick, impeccably groomed eyebrows mischievously, “I won’t judge you, Y/N.”

“Yes, you will,” you groaned.

“Yes, I will,” admitted Taehyung easily, the ghost of a smile still painting his lips. “But you’ll tell me anyway, won’t you?”

“Donghyuk broke up with me,” you grumbled, “We were supposed to get married.”

Taehyung blinked, he vaguely remembered a baby faced male that was slightly taller than him with a mushroom cap haircut. He scoffed, “The audacity of some people. You were so far out of his league, it’s insulting that you weren’t the one to end things.”

You smiled weakly at Taehyung’s attempt to cheer you up. “It made my mind go all over the place. I don’t know. Maybe he wasn’t wrong. Maybe I am unadventurous and boring. Maybe I am vanilla.”

“What’s wrong with vanilla?” complained Taehyung, throwing his hands up. His outcry of displeasure loud and clear.

You snorted, your gaze focusing on the length of his fluttering fingers for far too long, “Let’s not pretend you’re not one freaky mofo, Taehyung. But I don’t know, I just wanted to live a little.”

“So?” retorted Taehyung mulishly, “I am a man of diverse tastes. I can appreciate both vanilla and some of the more– experimental stuff.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, “I wanted to get nipple piercings, they're adventurous right? And it’s not because I think that if I do this he’ll get back together with me. But maybe he’s the one who kept me trapped and complacent. Maybe he’s the reason I’m not bold. I just wanted to try something new.”

Taehyung scoffed, “You didn’t have to go to such drastic and permanent measures. You can barely handle the nipple clamp. You would’ve cried and complained the entire month that you had to wait for your nipples to heal. You forget that, I know you. Oh Y/N,” Taehyung suddenly recalled, “You can’t do sexy stuff with your nipples while they heal so how exactly would that have helped you during your kinky adventures?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “You don’t know me that well!”

“No?”

“I’m gonna lose my deposit,” you griped. “This is the worst day of my life.”

“You are so dramatic Y/N,” Taehyung replied, “How can this be the worst day of your life?!” he demanded, “What about the day Donghyun broke up with you and pushed you head first through the five stages of grief?”

“Donghyuk,” you corrected. Taehyung made a face at you, contorting his handsome visage into something that made you let out a loud laugh, visibly showing he did not give one fuck about what your former boyfriend’s name was.

“It’s not a complete loss, Y/N,” Taehyung murmured.

“Why do you say that?” you asked.

Taehyung placed those devilishly sexy and large hands on your waist pulling you closer to the edge of the table to where he was seated besides you. You gasped at how his grasp almost entirely circled your waist until his widespread fingers were millimeters away from meeting each other. “Ever had sex with the owner of a tattoo parlor?” he breathed, his deep voice purposefully gravelly and husky.

“No,” you murmured, hardly daring to believe that Taehyung returned your affections. The long buried feelings from your secret crush on Taehyung all those years ago, erupting once again in your heart.

“You don’t need to get piercings to make it fun, Y/N,” Taehyung tantalized.

“You’ll tell me about the seventh piercing?” you confirmed.

Taehyung barked out a laugh. “I’ll do you one better,” he murmured, “I’ll show you where it is.” He finished off with a rakish wink.

“Can I kiss you?” you asked, hands already moving forward to cup his chiseled cheeks and jaw within their grasp.

“Hold on one second,” Taehyung chuckled, peering at you playfully as he looked up at you from where his face was in between your palms. “I gotta do one thing first.”

Taehyung went to remove the metal clamps from your poor neglected nipple that had gone slightly numb from being within its confines this entire time. “My poor Y/N,” Taehyung softened his tone as he rubbed your breast to bring back the feeling. “I’m sorry for not doing this earlier.”

He ducked his head, his plush lips wrapping around the abused peak as he soothed it with warm wet licks and light suction. You let out a high pitched sound and then choked when the cool metal ball on his tongue slinked against your sore nipple as he twirled his tongue around the flesh. He was uncharacteristically gentle though he was spitting against your breast and spreading the welcome coolness around the hard peak.

You let your hands go up to his head, fingers raking themselves into silky soft black waves, holding him into place while he worshiped your chest. Soon, Taehyung switched over to the other breast, enveloping it in the warm wet heat of his mouth, as well. He was much rougher this time as he didn’t have to be careful. His teeth grazed the hard bud, nipping the nipple lightly as you found yourself letting out endless keens.

“Fuck,” muttered Taehyung finally pulling himself away, “How are you this sensitive and responsive? You would’ve had such a rough time with the aftercare if you had gone through with this.”

You shook your head, ignoring his question. “Taehyung!” you whined instead, “I need you.”

Taehyung scoffed lightly as a pleased smirk marked his lips. He ripped the purple gloves off, flinging them onto the side table.

“Will you let me eat you out, Y/N?” he asked. “I’ve been dreaming of it ever since I saw those snaps on your private story for your 21st birthday.”

Your brows furrowed. For your birthday your friends and you had gone down to Cabo since it was close to spring break. You hadn’t even realized Taehyung was on your private story. Your brother Jimin certainly wasn’t. You had posted everything from videos of you skinny dipping with your friends in the hot tub, to full length mirror selfies of every itty bitty neon colored bikini you had worn on the trip.

“I’ve had fantasies about you too,” you admitted as Taehyung’s hands slid down your waist to hug your hips, fingers digging into your charcoal gray leggings, ready to pull them off.

He looked at you curiously, “Since when? Was I your sexual awakening?” he teased, his cheeks full in his joy. You wanted to bite those bread cheeks but you controlled the impulse.

“Hardly,” you retorted, “I was dreaming about Min Yoongi before I ever thought of you. But he graduated and went away for university. And you had that wavy silver brown hair. You looked so hot in your old school hiphop outfit you’d worn for Halloween senior year.”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes, “I was always hot, Y/N. It’s cute of you to deny it. But wow headbands really do it for you huh? Is that why you ran up to your room when we started watching It? I thought it was because you were scared. Had I known that you were sneaking away to shove your hand in your panties–” he trailed off.

“You would have what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Taehyung hit your hip lightly with his fingers, more tap than slap, making you lift your bottom so that he could drag the dark colored athletic fabric down your legs.

“Why don’t I show you?” Taehyung said.

With your leggings down to one of your ankles, completely off of the other, Taehyung took a hold of your thighs, swinging your legs around so they hung over the side of the platform you were seated on. You were facing him now, but he was so tall that even with the small boost your seat offered, you were eye level with him. He slid back the stool he was on, moving it out of the way. Then he sank to his knees so that his head was at the perfect height for the treasure that laid between your slightly parted thighs.

With his left hand still grasping one of your thighs, he used his other hand to prod at your folds over the drenched fabric of your black seamless panties. His forefinger and middle finger stroked at your opening, hunting for your clit, slipping over the sodden fabric over and over. When you were so wet that his fingers went away, picking up enough evidence of your arousal that a transparent string clung to him before finally breaking off, Taehyung decided to move the panty off to the side, revealing the swollen dripping folds of your cunt to him.

“You’re so pretty, gorgeous,” he sighed, “I want to feast on you.”

His fingers were curiously spreading you even more, parting the furling petals to your entrance, revealing the pretty wet hole to his hot seeking gaze as it desperately clenched around air, wanting something bigger and more substantial to close around.

“Taehyung please,” you pleaded, your fingers knotting into his unruly hair, as you attempted to move his head closer to your cunt.

Taehyung dipped down, his lips pursed at first, almost like he was kissing you down there, but he soon found his pace, tongue wildly thrusting into the hole and gliding over the folds. As he lapped at your entrance, he hummed in pleasure, rejoicing in the sweet poignant taste of you.

As his tongue ran over your folds and the engorged bud of your clit, you shuddered and trembled. It had been so long since someone had eaten you out. You had been broken up with Donghyuk for two months, but it had been even longer since the last time he had gone down on you.

He tongued at you curling the tip of his wet muscle to urge more of your juices into his open mouth. You tasted like heaven, “You’re so fucking sweet,” he furiously growled into you, his baritone sending vibrations through your most sensitive part. “I love your reactions. I could eat you out for hours,” he hissed.

When his teeth nipped at the sensitive bundle of nerves, you cried out his name, babbling senselessly, mad with pleasure. He wrapped his lips around it, sucking tightly at the bud. Your eyes rolled back at the pressure, the stimulation almost unbearable. You felt the prodding of two long fingers invading your entrance even as his lips continued its merciless assault on the swollen bud.

“Taehyung!” you panted. Your fingers were almost digging into his scalp. “I can’t stand this!!”

Your back arched as he scissored his fingers furiously within you. His teeth and tongue were sloppily pursuing their war on your heated and engorged clit.

“That’s it Y/N,” murmured Taehyung huskily, “Give yourself to me.”

His fingers reached deep within you, dragging against your folds that gripped around it like a vise, clenching and unclenching in stuttered movements. He groaned at the tightness, the vibrations of the sound echoing through your opening, your clit fluttering at the stimulus.

“Another finger,” you susurrated, your words chased by loud keens and moans.

“Yeah?” Taehyung breathed out, “You think you can take that? I can barely even move the two I have in you now. Your pussy is clenching around me so much.”

“Want it Tae. Need it,” you babbled, “Need to prep for that big cock you’re hiding.”

Taehyung exhaled loudly through his nose, the gust of air falling over your oversensitized core. “Yeah, you dirty girl? You wanna prep for my fat cock? You need it,” he admitted. “I’m gonna destroy your tight little cunt,” He growled.

With another nip of your clit, this one harsher and more toothy, he stuffed a third finger in you, frantically pumping them and curling them to drag against the taunt muscles of your inner walls. The appendages were stretching you out gloriously. You closed your eyes as you edged head first towards your orgasm. Taehyung’s tongue danced over your folds, stimulating them even further.

He breathed through his nose as he ate you out even more enthusiastically; he had been going at this for a long time but it would be worth it. His cock was a hard and heavy weight against the confines of his constricting dark jeans. You whimpered, lightheaded and overheated as the pressure at your core continued to build. You were stuffed to the brim with his nimble slender fingers pushing savagely in you.

All it took was a swipe of his long tongue over your bud, the metal sphere of his piercing a hard heaviness digging into your clit, as his fingers found your g-spot and hit it brutally, and you let out a shrill scream, immediately gushing like a flooding waterfall. There were black dots in your vision as the edges of your eyes gathered with tears. You panted as you continued to squirt over Taehyung’s trapped fingers, drenching his hand with the evidence of your orgasm then trailing down his wrist.

“Fuck,” swore Taehyung, “You fucking squirted. That’s so hot, gorgeous.”

He reluctantly moved his hand away from you, licking a wide stripe across his palm, tasting your sweetness, still not tired of your delectable release. What he didn’t consume, he wiped against the butcher paper covering where you were seated. You had your hands splayed besides your thighs, needing help to keep yourself upright. Your gaze drifted down to your crotch where the paper was sopping wet, dark, and translucent from where you had squirted all over it.

This was why you never had sex in public; you were already getting a headache at the thought of Taehyung having to clean up and sanitize everything before his next appointment.

“Hey what’s wrong?” asked Taehyung, getting up from his knees. His hand went to his belt, unbuckling the black leather and loosening it around his hips. He undid his button and zipped open his fly, finally freeing his aching hard cock from the confines it had been resisting against.

You stared at his erection, pressing against the band of his underwear. “Is this really okay?” you asked.

“Going soft on me so fast?” Taehyung teased, “Thought you were gonna prove to Dongkyung that you were fun and freaky. I bet he’s never had sex outside of the bedroom.”

“No,” you protested, “I still want to. I just– I just wanted to make sure you were still okay with this.”

“Oh,” murmured Taehyung with a ravenous glint in his eyes, “I’m thrilled about this. I want to destroy you in a way that has you limping after. I want your pussy to have PDD, never wanting another cock.”

“PDD?” you asked, repeating the acronym with confusion heavy in your tone.

“Post-Dicking Depression,” Taehyung clarified with a faux condescending tone. You could hear the laughter in his voice that he tried to keep in.

“I don’t know if I want to have sex with a man who refers to it as me getting dicked down,” you scoffed, wiggling your butt backwards to move away from Taehyung who scowled and quickly moved his hands from his pants to your hips, holding you in place.

“But you want a dicking from me,” he sing-sang, “You used to have fantasies about me.”

“I used to have fantasies about Flynn Rider, that means nothing,” you retorted, your hands placed over his.

He narrowed his eyes, “That says less about me and more about you, gorgeous.”

He palmed his heavy cock through the cotton fabric of his briefs.

“You sure you wanna stop right here, Y/N? Don’t wanna go for another orgasm?”

“I can’t leave you hanging,” you acquiesced easily, “Golden rule of reciprocation and all that.”

“You don’t always have to give back what you get in sex,” Taehyung frowned, “It’s not a business transaction, it’s a group effort. As long as we both enjoy ourselves, you don’t have to worry about me, Y/N.”

“You don’t want to have me?” you asked, suddenly self-conscious, “You seemed really enthusiastic about it earlier.”

“I’m dying to have you, but I only want you if you want me,” Taehyung clarified, his baritone wafting into your ears soothingly.

You smiled up at him, even though you were naked in this room that might have his assistant or coworkers knocking at any moment, even though he was completely dressed while you were not, you still felt comfortable with Taehyung. You put your fingers through the belt loops of his partially opened jeans, dragging it down his hips, over his ass, stopping midway on his thighs. Taehyung watched you, his jaw clenched and his eyes hard with the heat of his lust, thick dark brows furrowed as he bit his lips.

“Please, Tae?” you asked, “I want you. I want the heavy fucking that has me walking side to side afterwards.”

Taehyung snorted, “‘4.5 when I make the bed shake,’ huh.”

“Ariana is a legend,” you gasped, outraged at his little quip, your hands falling from where they had been clutching his ass.

Taehyung just gave you one of his gorgeous boxy smiles that left you breathless before he went to free his fat cock from the cotton confines of his underwear. His cock bounced once it was free from its bounds, his length even more thick and imposing than you had imagined when you were sixteen, slipping your fingers down your throat and choking on them, pretending they were his dick instead.

It was impressively girthy and you knew your fingers wouldn’t be able to wrap around it and touch at the ends. The mushroom head was flushed burgundy. The seventh piercing winked at you, a curved steel barbell turned towards you as a part of his king’s crown piercing that was threaded through his head, running along the ridge of his shaft. Your mouth watered - the tip of his cock was glistening with precum and you wanted to whirl your tongue around its bulbous head like it was the tastiest lollipop.

“Taehyung,” you pleaded, your fingers going towards his crotch.

Taehyung gently slapped your hands away.

“Uh uh,” he chastised. “Behave, gorgeous.”

You spread your thighs apart, knees up and feet flat in front of you as you sat up with your hands wrapped around your calves, holding your legs open. Taehyung took hold of the meaty softness of your right thigh and pulled you towards him, settling in between you, his cock bouncing lightly, the tip brushing against your entrance as he used his hands to pull your legs around him. Your hands let go and fell backwards and you splayed your fingers and palms behind you to balance your weight as Taehyung carefully situated your lower half, pulling your hips up to be aligned with his so that he could easily slip in and out of you.

He slapped your flushed and swollen cunt with his cock, the proof of your orgasm mixing with his precum. After a few slaps, he finally began to guide his shaft into you. For a moment there you didn’t think the fat bulbous head would be able to breach your entrance even with how wet you were as your tight glistening hole protested around it, but a firm push later he was sheathed.

“You like that, gorgeous?” he growled, “You feel that? You’re gonna wring me dry when I cum inside, aren’t you? Gonna creampie this fucking pussy. Have your beat up cunt leaking my cum for hours.”

You whimpered as your mouth sought Taehyung’s lips but couldn’t. Instead you found your tongue licking up a line up the bare expanse of his neck, tracing the lines of his tattoos, your lips following their path, leaving bruising kisses and kittenish bites. He moaned and his head ducked down, moving his throat away from you so that you could finally kiss him. At first your tongues twirled around each other, but Taehyung was a messy kisser. His teeth were soon nipping at your lips and his tongue was thrusting in your mouth, licking the insides of your cheeks, the roof of your mouth, not letting you pull away to breath and leaving you lightheaded.

Taehyung slowly pushed himself in and out, not going more than an inch or two within you, giving you time to get used to the fullness. He was so thick, your walls were clamping around his girthy length like a vise and he was struggling to move, but the movement he was able to make had you keening and whimpering as the round ends of his piercing jewelry dragged against the ridged muscles of your walls, making them spasm uncontrollably at the feeling.

As you grew wetter and wetter, your desperation increasing exponentially, Taehyung found himself getting lost at the sensations, thrusting faster and more erratically until his control was so frayed that he could no longer hold himself back. He slammed into you, the thick heaviness of his cock stealing your breath away as he was impaled within you. You tried to catch your breath but he continued to jerk inside you, the piercing hitting your g-spot and making you scream as white spots appeared in your vision.

His pace then grew progressively more frantic and Taehyung found himself holding you up with his sheer strength which left you breathless at the display of power; you were no longer on the table, he was fucking you standing up. Your legs were wrapped around his hips and your head was at the side of his face, pressing kisses against his jaw and nibbling up to his ear. Your moans were an echoing throaty vocalization in his ears, making them burn as a pool of lust gathered in his gut and made his abdomen tighten. Meanwhile, your hands were flitting across the expanse of his back, under his shirt, leaving long scratch marks in their wake as your nails dug into his skin every time Taehyung thrusted a little too hard, his fingers pinched your clit, or his piercing found that glorious g-spot.

“God, Tae,” you panted. You could feel him so deep inside you that as you glanced down you saw that your tummy was bulging a little bit and you had to wonder if it was because of him. You pressed down on your stomach experimentally and then you both gasped as your walls clenched tightly around him, rhythmically pulsating around the entire length of his shaft, keeping him connected to you.

Taehyung hadn’t forgotten your tiny clit, although it was swollen and not as little now. He thumbed at the responsive bundle of nerves; the pressure from his finger had you on overdrive, hyper aware and feeling like you might go ballistic at any moment. Your mewls were like music to his ears and propelled him forward, making him plunge into you so violently. You were bouncing on his length, your legs loosening slightly around his hips from the force that came with every time he rammed into you.

For your safety, he lowered you down to the table you had been sitting on earlier, making your back flat against it as he had one hand by your head holding him up, keeping himself from crashing into you, and one hand wrapped around your hip, snapping it up to meet his every thrust. The new angle allowed him to go even deeper and he found himself slowing down to enjoy the feeling of your folds fluttering around his shaft as he dragged it through your walls deliberately, penetrating you acutely.

He was holding himself back, he didn’t want this moment to end but at your surprised cry when one of those thrusts hit your g-spot particularly hard, you suddenly gushed like a broken faucet around him, and then clenched his cock tighter than you had ever before, even as the stream of cum cascaded all around his shaft. He grunted before following you in your wake, the heat of his own release leaking out of his tip and mixing with yours.

Somehow Taehyung was still hard around you, you noticed with surprise as your legs fell with no strength left in them, no longer making your body cling to Taehyung’s. You stared at him in confusion, your eyes wordlessly saying, What now?

Taehyung licked his lips, his familiar grin appearing sheepishly. “Ride me, gorgeous,” he dictated.

He hadn’t let you remove his cock from inside your pussy and he picked you up, holding you beneath your thighs, his fingers brushing against the cleft of your ass as he moved you two around so that he was now seated with you on top of him.

One of your hands fluttered against his chest as you got used to sitting on him, the other was holding onto his shoulder. You inhaled deeply, your hands going up to stop his head from moving so that you could kiss him punishingly, neither of you parting to breath for long interminable moments. His fingers threaded through your hair that had long since fallen out of its bun, holding you in place, so that his lips could chase yours easily every time you tried to break apart from him.

He helped you with the first move, his hands gripping your hips and his long fingers dimpling into your skin as he moved you up, almost entirely off his cock that dragged enticingly along your folds as it slipped away, before slamming you back on his lap with enough force to have your teeth knocking against each other.

You braced yourself with your palms on his chest, fingers curving over the broad length of his shoulders, slowly lifting yourself away from his dick before quickly and forcefully bringing your ass down, reluctant to let him withdraw completely. Each time you brought yourself back onto his cock, Taehyung snapped his hips up, impaling you with his thick impressive length. His fingers were bruising into your hips with how hard he was holding you in place.

Your movements were erratic and feverish, following no rhyme or reason, only seeking fullness and release. He had you writhing on top of him wantonly as your hips swiveled to meet each snap of his, until his cock was hitting you again and again vigorously. But it wasn’t enough; he wanted to give you more. So Taehyung found himself squeezing two fingers into you alongside his cock, filling you even more than you had thought was possible, bordering on the side of painful. His palm was positioned up so that it was pressed against your clit. And with every bounce and jerk on top of him that had his cock and fingers moving deeper within you, his palm pressed against your puffy bud stimulating you endlessly.

You screamed as you sprayed around Taehyung, coming again. As you writhed against Taehyung’s body, his arms kept you wrapped in his embrace, keeping you from injuring yourself, pulling any muscles accidentally. Your cunt was reluctant to release its grip on Taehyung’s cock, holding onto him tightly, and he found himself grabbing your hand, borrowing it for a second to have you squeeze his balls. And then Taehyung felt himself cum for the second time that day. He shuddered into your chest as his balls emptied themselves, getting lighter as streams of his warm cum shot into you, painting your insides with lines of white.

You mewled at the feeling, wiggling on top of Taehyung in discomfort. He chuckled huskily, an airy yet throaty sound. Carefully, he withdrew from you, using one of his hands to keep the cum from pouring out from between your legs, his palm against your entrance keeping the hot liquid trapped inside you. After a moment he moved his palm away so that his fingers could play around in your folds, pushing the cum into every divot and crevice, the pads of his fingers massaging it in and then his fingers went back inside you, swirling the cum around your hole with his fingers messily. You let him play around, rubbing his mark into you even though it was fucking filthy and gross, but when his fingers brushed too close to your battered clit, your inner thighs spasmed with your muscles jumping, you found your hand frantically pulling at his wrists attempting to pull him away from your exhausted and overworked pussy.

“Taehyung, stop!” you whined.

He glanced back at you sheepishly. “Sorry,” he murmured, an apologetic tone painting his words, “I got distracted.”

You snorted, “Yeah, you did.”

Taehyung pulled you off his lap and sat you down beside him, from in between your parted thighs, your pussy leaked out the mixture of both of your cum out onto the ripped and mangled butcher paper that looked as though it had gone through the wringer. Taehyung stood up to grab a bundle of paper towels from his work station and came back with them, bending down in front of you and starting to clean you up. Once he was done, he looked back up at you.

“I’ll give you back your deposit, Y/N. Don’t get the piercings today, okay?” he said, “And when you finally feel like you’re ready to modify your body for the right reasons, you can come back here and I’ll do it for free. A piercing, a tattoo, whatever the case. Just– just don’t think you have to change for a man. You are perfect as long as you like who you are.”

Your eyebrows dipped down in confusion as Taehyung stumbled over his words, painstakingly attempting to make sure that you understood him and realized that he liked you and you should like yourself too because you were perfect and no man was worthy enough to make you change.

“Why for free, Taehyung?” you asked instead, uncomfortable at his sincerity.

Taehyung smiled nervously, “Well if you’re dating the owner, it’s the least I can do. Don’t you think so?”

“Who says we’re dating?” you teased, pulling him closer to you, making him stand between your legs.

Taehyung pouted and then huffily said, “Fine, have it your way. See if anyone in the Tri-State area takes you as a client then. I’m getting you blacklisted from everywhere so Jimin doesn’t kill me when he finds out you want to look like Post Malone.”

“Post Malone?” you questioned, laughing uncontrollably. “Taehyung, why would you offer to help me if Jimin would kill you instead of those other tattoo artists?”

“Girlfriends hold more weight than best friends,” he said mulishly, slumping forward and resting his forehead against your sternum.

“Yeah?” you asked, quilting your fingers through his hair, scratching at his head comfortingly.

“I’m also in love with you,” Taehyung confessed, turning his head so his ear rested against your chest. He could hear your heartbeat, you realized with a panic, and how it stuttered at his reveal. But his arms had slowly wrapped themselves around your form and you couldn’t find it within you to push him away.

“Really?” you asked needily, needing the confirmation.

He hummed, “I would do anything for you.”

“I think I’ve been in love with you too,” you admitted as well. You suddenly shoved against him. “It was you,” you accused.

“Hmm,” muttered Taehyung, instantly knowing what you had meant, “I can’t help it if I’m beautiful and you kept fantasizing about me while dating Dongbyun.”

“Tae!”

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution - Non Commercial - No Derivatives 4.0 International License

©OPALJM 2021

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starshapedkookie · 3 years ago

Text

Live Through This | 2

→ why do i run back to you like i don't mind if you fuck up my life?

PLEASE read part 1, none of this will make sense without it!

pairing: jungkook x female reader

genre: ex-lovers to frenemies to lovers (?), band au, punk au, angst, smut, fluffiness

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol and drug use, mentions of death, smut😳 (protected sex, hate sex 🔥 turned into 😩🥺 sex, choking, biting, oral sex female receiving, orgasm denial(?), mentions of therapy but yay! oc & jk getting their sh-t together! this is kind of lazily edited so sorry

premise: A record deal. The one thing Violet needed to become the next big rockstars. As the front-woman to the band, life couldn’t have been any easier for you. That is until a devastating life event changes everything for you, leaving you heartbroken and in a downward spiral you can’t get out of. With your biggest competitor, Whailen 52 on your heels, your bandmates worried about the future, and your ex Jeon Jungkook being your only solace; you weren’t sure if you were going to live through this to see your dreams come to fruition.

word count: 24,000 (roughly)

spotify playlist - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6U3lm7y9hCgpw1bzc6r5qu?si=65cc5fd78a224189

happy new year! & welcome back to my semi-annual fic posting lmao. i hope you all enjoy the end to this story that i love so much. come chat to me about anything once you're finished reading💜

_____

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” The words seethe from your mouth and into the phone.

“Possibly,” Yoongi responds calmly. You could see him right now—laid back in his bed or a chair, looking at his nails aimlessly, maybe even lighting a cigarette up. Acting as if what he was asking was an everyday question with no repercussions.

“Min Yoongi I c-can—not believe the goddamn audacity of you right now,” you stutter some of your words, disbelief flowing through your veins. You’re trying to keep as quiet as possible since Jimin, Hobi, and Lisa all reside in your designated practice room down the hall. Not only was Yoongi interrupting practice for you on your time, he was doing it to ask you this?!

“Y/N I know it sounds—“

“Crazy?” You answer for him, “Yes it’s fucking insane… Asking me to fill in lead guitar for your band?! Excuse me?!”

“Technically Jungkook’s and Tae’s band,” he says nonchalantly.

“Because that makes it any better?” You fight back.

“Y/N, listen to me,” Yoongi sounds much more determined, his voice stern and heavy, “I know how much Violet means to you—how much you cherish it. I know you want a record deal more than anyone I know, including myself, but how would you feel if everything you’ve built up with your band came crashing down over a stupid drunken mistake, huh? I know you would be just as desperate to find someone to fill in and you know that I would do the same—hell, Jungkook would absolutely do the same for you if it came down to it and you fucking know it.”

You frown, huffing into the phone, “It’s not my fault Namjoon did what he did.”

“Jesus fuck Y/N you’re missing the point,” he says now seemingly frustrated at your responses that are clearly not what he wants to hear.

“How do you think my band would feel then Yoongi?… Huh? Filling in for my ex that cheated on me’s band?”

“Please Y/N, everyone knows you and Jungkook are still fucking in love,” he says, “And it’s not my fault you went and cheated on Jungkook with Jimin making this decision hard for you.”

Your mouth falls agape, “Fuck you Yoongi—we’ve moved past that!”

“Clearly,” sarcasm evident, “If you won’t do this for Jungkook, at least do it for me. Pretend he’s not even there.”

You furrow your brows, chewing on your lips, “Because that’s easy?” you say obviously.

“Y/N will you at least sleep on it,” he sighs heavily, “We’re desperate and I think you owe Jungkook one.”

“I don’t owe him anything?” you retort.

“Mm,” he mumbles.

“You’re actually ridiculous Yoongi,” you sigh heavily, and you know you might regret your next words later on but Yoongi was right. You owed Jungkook for being a pain in the ass. And he would absolutely fill in for Jimin if you asked him. Shit.

“Fine,” you huff, “I’ll sleep on it.”

You can hear the sigh of relief Yoongi gets out, a small smile definitely spreading across his lips, “You’re the fucking best Y/N.”

“I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”

“Yeah yeah, I’ll call you back tomorrow all right?”

Before you can answer, there’s a small knocking at the door you’re sat behind. Jimin walks in promptly, his eyes finding yours instantly, noticing you’re still on the phone.

“Okay, sounds good.”

You hang up before he can respond, turning your attention fully to Jimin.

“Everything okay?” He asks, “You’ve been gone awhile… wanted to check in—“

“Yeah yeah everything’s fine, thanks Chim,” you give him a small smile to which he returns. You knew if you ended up helping Whailen, Jimin would take it the hardest. You’re not even sure he would speak to you again. Hooking up with him had to be the worst decision you ever made. Not only had it made things uncomfortable for you two for so long—just recently going back to your “normal”—Jimin loathed Jungkook. He had never been a huge fan of him even when you two started dating, always seeing him as too immature for yourself. If anything, Jimin always wanted the best for you and your ambitions. He didn’t think Jungkook fit into that mold and that’s where you two differed the most. Jungkook was in your life at least for the near future and he couldn’t stand that. You could only hope that he wouldn’t be mad at you but knowing how sensitive and protective Jimin was over you—it was an inevitable downfall you would have to prepare for.

_____

“Jesus Christ,” Namjoon’s eyes look you up and down as he walks into their practice studio, Jungkook and Taehyung in tow close behind him.

“She said yes?” Taehyung’s mouth drops open as he notices your frame, sitting against the very couch you sat with Jungkook on a couple weeks back. Yoongi sat to your right and Jungkook had yet to look at you. He keeps his gaze busy unsure what to say. Jin soon walks in after the three of them, his eyes wide when he spots you.

“Holy fuck,” he exasperates, “She actually showed up?”

“No guys it’s a clone,” you finally speak up, annoyance clear across your tone, “I’m right here you know, a hello or something would be nice for this huge favor.”

“Please don’t act like this isn’t a privilege sweetheart,” Namjoon mocks as he sits down on a couch opposite of you and Yoongi.

You give him a small smile, “I’m glad you recognize it is a privilege for you guys to have me here,” you throw his words back at him. You don’t know what you did to get attitude from Kim Namjoon of all people, but you hoped he would kindly shut the fuck up.

“Come on hyung cool it,” Jungkook finally speaks up from where he stands near the equipment, setting up a few parts to the drum kit.

“Whatever,” Namjoon mutters, looking down at his phone diverting his attention elsewhere.

“Y/N we really couldn’t thank you enough for this,” Taehyung kindly speaks to you. His light brown hair is hidden under a cap, but he’s as handsome as ever.

“I’m here with conditions you know,” you say to him to which is eyes then turn to Yoongi, seeming confused. You glower over at Yoongi, “You didn’t tell them did you?”

He shrugs, “I was waiting for the right moment.”

“Conditions like what?” Jin says sat near his bass.

You fix you your posture, noticing Jungkook peeking your way every so often. You hadn’t spoken to him since your talk and love profession two weeks ago, so you were out of the loop of what he had been up to since then.

“I get to choose one song for you guys,” you say confidently.

“What the fuck—“

“Absolutely not—“

Namjoon and Jin groan in unison. Taehyung looks a little annoyed from this demand. Jungkook’s face is straight and unreadable. Yoongi is smirking beside you. He loved you coming in here demanding things—it added some spice and the boys definitely weren’t expecting it.

Taehyung takes a moment to himself, thinking about it before saying, “Fine. If I can sing it, fine. Anything else?”

“My name goes on your roster as lead, Jungkook’s name goes on drums,” It was only fair in your eyes.

“You’re fucking kidding,” Namjoon’s dark eyes look towards you, “You’re Krist Vedder’s daughter, do you really need anymore fucking attention? I’m the drummer of the band, my name deserves to be there—”

“Hyung do you ever shut up?” Jungkook’s voice raises from where he sits behind the drums now, his eyes finding yours across the room. “This is your fault we’re in this position, be fucking grateful Y/N is a damn good guitar player and willing to help us.”

“Defending your ex fucking girlfriend over me dude? That’s low,” he seethes.

You weren’t expecting Jungkook to defend you in that manner but you it makes your heart flutter, hands a little less shaky. You send him a small smile in return before Taehyung turns to Namjoon frustratingly.

“Hyung how about you sit this practice out?” Taehyung says to him.

Namjoon raises his eyebrows, “Fine,” he stands up, “Have fun everyone.”

You watch as he leaves the practice room, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Someone’s cheerful,” Yoongi remarks, standing up beside you.

“He’s been such an asshole lately,” Taehyung groans, “Y/N ready to practice some?” He turns to you changing the subject quickly.

You nod, feeling somewhat nervous. This wasn’t your band therefore you were not in your element. You and Jungkook had played guitar together many of times, but this was completely uncharted territory. Mind that you still had yet to tell your band you were doing this. All you knew is that by the end of this, your hands you were going to be tired and rough from calluses working double overtime on your beloved Fender. You only hoped that this wasn’t a decision you weren’t going to regret this time next week. After all, your dad told you to make the right choices—weren’t you?

“If you put a capo on it would sound better,” you point out. Your eyes follow the way down the neck of Jungkook’s acoustic guitar, up his chest, his neck, and finally his eyes.

He scowls, ignoring your suggestion as he continues to strum the chords to Muse’s Time is Running Out. He knows it would sound better adding a capo, but he hated proving you right. He hums the words, making you feel drowsier as the minutes pass.

You two are sat on the small outdoor couch Jungkook and Taehyung had on their small porch of the apartment. It overlooked the bustling city of Seoul. It was your favorite view. You were saddened that they decided against renewing their lease, instead moving to separate apartments in a few months. You supposed being glued to the hip since their early teens, Jungkook and Taehyung were realizing they needed to spend time away from each other. It would be better for their band and personal relationship in the long run.

You nudge Jungkook’s side with your foot and he jerks against it, a small smile peaking through his lips. You do it again and again, trying to get a reaction from him.

“Quit,” he grabs your ankle with a laugh, looking down and over at you. You’re laid on your back in one of his flannels lazily buttoned, legs straight and feet propped on his knees. You’re his favorite view and perhaps it’s why the heavy weight in his chest brings him down further into hell.

“Pay attention to me,” you pout as you try to squirm your ankle out of his grip.

“Was the last two hours not enough?” He muses cheekily. His face turn a slight pink as you shake your head. He can’t tell if you’re causing him to turn color or if it is the warmth of summer coming.

“C’mhere,” he pulls on your ankle and you smile as you push yourself up, crawling over to his side. You remove his guitar from his lap, setting it down carefully as he eyes you intensely. If anything happened to any of his guitars, you’re sure he would set you aflame. And you would do the same.

“Hi,” you smile up at his beautiful face as you cuddle up beside him, throwing your legs over his lap fully. He opens his arms for you wide, pulling you as close as possible to his body. He’s always so warm and comforting.

“Hi,” his voice is deep as he nuzzles his nose into your hair. Jungkook had been acting a little distant lately. You didn’t know if it was the decision of him dropping out of school to fully pursue music, stress from his parents about that said decision, or maybe the horrible fight you two had a couple weeks back. Any chance you got though, you made sure to hold him as close as possible, desperate for him to come back down to you. You had just celebrated your three year anniversary together and even with Jungkook being more reserved, you were sure it wouldn’t be the last.

“What’s up baby?” You nudge him as his gaze looks off into the distant. It’s probably just past midnight, but the city is still alive and well. He looks back over to you, hand rubbing circles on your exposed thigh.

“Just thinking,” he mumbles with straight lips, a deep sigh emitting from his nose. You bring a hand up, squeezing his right cheek playfully. He lets you play with him like a doll. He doesn’t care as long as you keep touching him because he knows all too soon—that’ll be a thing of the past.

“About what?” You ponder curiously as he leans into your touch.

“I love you,” he completely disregards your question, leaning into some so you can meet him halfway. The kiss is gentle and soft. Unlike a few hours ago where they were rough and calloused, bruising each other’s flesh in the worst ways possible. You want more from him desperately but onset soreness between your thighs tells you to hold off.

“I love you too. Keep playing,” you whisper against his mouth as he pulls away. He nods tenderly and you scoot away from him some so he can pick his guitar back up. He would do anything for you. Maybe that would make you want to stay. You choose to stay in your curled up position, no matter how difficult is might be for him to play. He rests the bottom of the instrument between the crack of your parted legs, the neck going the opposite direction.

He clears his throat before beginning to strum chords that you don’t immediately recognize, but it soon settles in.

“Why the doom and gloom babe?” You sulk which causes him to stop playing. He laughs, shaking his head some.

“You said play me a song, I am playing you a song,” he raises his eyebrows at you obviously. You giggle in return, before huffing a fine, settling back some in the couch cushions.

He starts the chords over again, the heaviness of the song filling the air around you two. You don’t know why Jungkook has chosen to play you despairing songs the past hour, but you leave him be. He’s much more sensitive than he likes to show on to people. He tries his best to show his emotions, despite how bad he can be at communicating at times. He promised he would work on it and maybe that was your first mistake.

“Don’t wanna think about it, don’t wanna talk about, I’m just so sick about it,” he sings low under the moonlight and stars. “Just so confused about it, feelin’ the blues about it, I just can’t do without ya—“

Perhaps your second mistake was downplaying Jungkook’s distance and undermining the meanings of the songs he was playing. And Jungkook would soon learn himself, what goes around does indeed come back around.

______

“Thanks for driving me home again,” you look over to your doe eyed companion. He shifts his car into park, settling near your apartment.

“No problem,” he says looking over to you. It was late on a Tuesday night—practicing with Whailen just wrapped. You had practiced with Violet earlier in the afternoon and to say you were exhausted was an understatement. There were 4 days left until the competition and you only hoped you wouldn’t be burnt out by then.

“You doing okay?” Jungkook asks as you let out a yawn, covering your mouth quickly.

“Yeah, just really tired,” you say honestly. Truthfully—you had been doing pretty well the past week or so. Settling things with your mother had eased your tension greatly and the letter from your dad seemed to come at just the right time.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this Y/N,” he says genuinely. You had heard that phrase from everyone in Whailen—minus Namjoon—at least once a day since you first came to rehearsal last week.

“Don’t worry about it,” you shake your head some, “I know you’d do the same for me if I asked.”

He gives you a small smile, his eyes softening, “Yeah… yeah I would,” his voice trails off leaving a heavy silence in the car. Ever since yours and Jungkook’s talk, the two of you honestly had not spoken many words to each other. He would give you a hello when you walked into the practice studio as did you, only exchanging words with each other when absolutely necessary. It wasn’t awkward by any means, but there had been a shift in your relationship with each other. Good or bad—you didn’t know.

“Yeah well, I’d better head up,” you unbuckle yourself, ripping your gaze away from his.

“Do they know?” He asks, “Your band?”

The question catches you off guard, your heart stopping for a moment, “No. Not yet”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything else as you gather your bag from your feet, opening the car door swiftly, “Thanks again.”

You’re about to shut the door when his voice rings through your ears once again.

“Wait, Y/N—“

You stop your motions, furrowing your brows, “Yeah?”

His dark eyes catch yours in the street lamps that are illuminate the parking lot. His mouth opens but he quickly shuts back, his lips tightening into a line. His expression is unreadable, his eyes wide and starry-like.

“Have a good night,” is all he says. Knowing him all too well, you know that was not what he intended on saying. However, not wanting to stir anything up, you leave it at that. You wish him well too watching as he drives away, leaving you alone to your thoughts.

The moment you cross the threshold into your apartment, you nearly jump out of your shoes when Lisa’s voice rains down on you.

“Were you just with Jungkook?” Her words hit you like a baseball bat and you are the 95 MPH fastball.

“Huh?” You return dumbly, hanging up your key next to hers.

“I saw you two,” she says, “From my window.”

“Never took you as a peeping Tom,” you walk past her frame and back towards your room, wanting nothing more to shower and head into a deep sleep. Her footsteps follow yours closely and you know she isn’t going to let up.

“It’s almost midnight, we finished practice at seven,” she says, “I thought you and him stopped hooking up—“

“We did,” you interrupt, kicking off your sneakers and laying down on your bed promptly, hoping she would get the hint to leave you be.

“Well, then that doesn’t explain why you were with him.”

You are tempted to keep tight lipped but with the competition just days away—they were going to find out no matter what. It was too late to back out on either of your commitments so would simply have to deal with it.

“I’m doing him a favor,” you say, sitting up and sitting criss-crossed. Her eyes narrow as she steps towards your frame, pulling out your desk chair to sit.

“And what favor could you possibly owe him?”

You feel your heart racing, palms sweaty, a lump in your throat before pushing it down, “I’m filling in lead for them,” you pause, “For the competition on Saturday.”

Lisa’s face falls, eyes wide, losing all color at once. “E-excuse me? Y/N what?”

You don’t say anything else, giving her time to process the information.

She starts shaking her head, waving her hands around in confusion, “B-but you said that Namjoon was o-out and we had the leg up now? Y/N please tell me you’re joking oh my god—“

“I’m not,” you mumble, looking down at your hands.

“You have to be fucking kidding, Y/N they’re our competition—our biggest competition at that and you’re out here helping them?!”

“Lisa please—“

“No, don’t Lisa please me—this is ridiculous! Let them suffer for their own problems!”

You sigh, rolling your eyes, “Lisa look at me,” you say sternly, “How do you think I would feel if you, or Jimin, or Hobi got hurt right before our biggest fucking gig—a goddamn record deal on the line—I-I would still want us to play! But there is no way in hell I would ask some random bassist or drummer to fill in for one of you guys! You know if I asked Jungkook, or Taehyung, they would do the same for us.”

“Would they though?” She presses, her fingers turning white from gripping the back of your desk chair.

“Yes,” you say, “I know Jungkook would. Please I know it’s not ideal for any one of us but it’s one gig but I promise you that we will be fine.”

“I can’t fucking believe you sometimes,” she exasperates, standing up promptly from the chair. “I’m assuming you haven’t told Hobi yet? Or Jimin?” You bite your lip hesitantly and it’s all the answer she needs before she is rolling her eyes, huffing at your stature.

“You better not be sabotaging us,” she pauses, “You’re own band.”

Lisa leaves your room, slamming the door behind her. Your face falls, her words coming down on you like a rain shower. Violet was your band—the thing you perhaps cherished the most of anything else in the world. You had worked so hard, practiced so many hours, wrote so many songs—all to leading to a moment coming this weekend. If you secured a record deal then your life would change in so many ways. Your dreams would come true—the dreams your dad had instilled on you as a little girl would come true. Were you sabotaging yourself by helping Whailen 52? You certainly didn’t think so until Lisa said that. It was obviously too late to back on your promise to Yoongi, knowing your dad would have wanted you to do the right thing.

“Fuck,” you fall back against your bed again, body bouncing slightly. You were tired, hungry, and your head was killing you. You really hoped you had made the right decision.

____

Vision was a little hazy, the music a little too loud, and maybe you had already had a little too much to drink for the evening, but you were having fun. A luxury that you hadn’t truly experienced in weeks. The venue was huge—an upscale bar on the opposite side of the city—complete with a rooftop, dance floors, and multiple levels each equipped with their own stage set ups.

Geffen Records kicked off competition weekend with a party, bringing out all the stops for tomorrow evening. There were 11 bands that were playing in total tomorrow evening—press release posters lining the walls of the bar with each band name on it. On the third line sat Violet, a little down to the seventh line sat Whailen 52. The whole night had been surreal so far and perhaps that’s why you had downed a little too much alcohol to ease your nerves.

You found yourself at the bar with Jimin and Lisa ordering another drink, trying your best to ease all the pent up nerves you have. You were exhausted and your fingers were calloused more than they had ever been. You were excited to show your hard off work, both in Violet and Whailen. If anything, you would hope that playing with Whailen would put more spotlight on you and your band. The only front woman in the competition, playing guitar for two bands—that had to look impressive to whoever was going to be judging.

“Babe maybe make this your last one,” Lisa remarks as you down your shot. It was only your second one and you shake your head in response. She was being dramatic.

“I’m fine,” you protest, leaning against the bar to people watch. You wanted to keep an eye out for any familiar faces—doe eyes in particular.

“Do you really want to be hungover tomorrow of all days?” She adds. You glance at her from the corner of your eyes. Maybe she wasn’t being dramatic. You turn back around, ordering a water promptly.

“Where’s Hobi?” You look around, realizing you hadn’t seen your drummer in over an hour. Actually, no one had seen him over an hour.

“Probably chatting up that one bassist in that band Moody,” Jimin explains, “He’s always eyeing her up and down when we’ve been to their gigs.”

You and Lisa laugh in unison, “Good for him,” you smile. Hobi was a charmer that’s one thing for sure.

“How are you feeling about tomorrow?” Jimin turns to you, leaning on his side as he drinks a vodka water. Lisa eyes you up and down, turning her attention away from you two. Neither of you have told Jimin or Hoseok about your double crossing tomorrow—making Lisa swear not to say anything. If she had kept your word, Jimin was still oblivious and if she hadn’t—he was a really good actor.

“Nervous,” is all you say, afraid you might say too much.

“Don’t be nervous,” he reassures, “You’re the best damn guitar player in this whole bar.”

You smile at his compliment, “Give yourself more credit than that.” It was true—Jimin was an amazing guitar player. You considered yourself lucky as hell when Jimin wanted to audition for your band. He had left his old band for yours, putting all his trust in you. Which is why you were so terrified of seeing his reaction tomorrow when you would finally tell him your secret.

“I am,” he nudges your foot that’s clad in a strappy black heel. Definitely not your normal get up, but you wanted to make an impression on whoever would be here tonight.

“Is that miss Y/N, leader of the sensational band Violet?” You don’t recognize the voice at first, you and Jimin simultaneously looking in the direction it came from. Your eyes land on a tall man, whose voice you can now put a name and face too.

Kim Mingyu. Leader of the band Mayday, one of Jungkook’s best friends, and certified asshole. Mayday was an impressive band to say the least. Punk rock based like many of the ones competing, but they probably had the longest list of accomplishments already behind them. They recently opened for All Time Low at a gig in America. They were also already signed to a small record label but were clearly trying to move on up to the mainstream. As showy as their accomplishments were, in terms of their music, they were simply average. It’s why you didn’t consider them competition. Your band was a lot better, on many different levels, and you were about to prove that tomorrow.

“Mingyu,” you greet him, “Long time no see.”

His eyes look between you and Jimin, a small smirk rising upon his face, “I see your efforts paid off.”

“Excuse me?” You’re shocked by his words. They’re vague to anyone else, but you know exactly what he means. He doesn’t elaborate as he steps forward, keeping his eyes on you. He motions for you to scoot to right a tad, so he can squeeze between you and Jimin. Lisa has noticed who has made their way here and she tenses up beside you.

Mingyu orders a beer, leaning on his elbows against the mahogany and gold encrusted bar.

“So how have you been?” He turns to you, completely ignoring Jimin. Your guitarist gives you a worried look but you brush it promptly.

“Fine,” your answer is simple. You don’t owe him any explanation of your feelings. He was always so mean to you when you and Jungkook dated. It got to the point where you refused to hang out with Jungkook if Mingyu was going to be there. This was set within the first 6 months of your 3 year relationship.

“Ah thanks,” he nods to the bartender, taking a gulp of his dark beer, “That’s good, considering everything…”

Your body tenses up, heart rate intensifying too, breathing becoming a little shaky. You stay silent, feeling your brain become less cloudy and more aware of your surroundings. You were tempted to grab Jimin and Lisa, run off and find Hobi, but Mingyu keeps speaking, preventing you from doing so.

“I mean heroin, that’s one hell of a drug,” he tsks, “Wasn’t really my thing you know? Didn’t enjoy the nodding off, takes the fun out of things—“

“Fuck off dude, just leave us alone,” Jimin snips. You feel bile rising in the back of your throat, head spinning as his words sink in. He knew precisely what he was doing and his motive to approaching you.

“Last time someone left you two alone, you ended up fucking him behind Jungkook’s back right?” He turns to you with, clad with a proud smirk. Lisa wraps her small hand around your wrist, worried you might launch at him. Little did she know, you couldn’t do that. He was breaking you down piece by piece and you had nothing in you to fight him.

“I’m serious Mingyu,” Jimin takes action, grabbing him by the arm to tug him away from you and the bar. It draws attention from everyone who is near you, gasps and other whisperings rising afraid of what might happen. Mingyu backs up with his hands up to show a sign of submission.

“Whoa,” he says, “Just some friendly banter is all… I mean everyone is all good friends now though right?” He eggs on, “Isn’t that why you’re playing lead for Whailen tomorrow?”

Your face completely falls—your heart dropping into the pit of your stomach. You feel Jimin tense up beside you, his gaze heavy on your face but you can’t possibly look at him. You briefly glance at Lisa who is looking away, fidgeting uncomfortably in her own heels.

“I-I,” you pause, at a loss for words, “Who told you that?”

He smirks before walking backwards some, downing the rest of his beer, “Who do you think?”

He walks away from the scene, leaving you stunned, embarrassed, and panicked.

Jimin turns to you quickly, though he stays silent. You’re unable to catch your breath or look at him.

Your emotions are running astray—anger, confusion, betrayal, pain. It was overwhelming as you gripped the side of the bar trying to maintain your balance. Not only did Mingyu throw out your secret in front of anyone who was around to here it—he also threw your father’s passing up in your face. You wanted to cry, you really did, but something in you told you to save your tears for later. While you were angry with Mingyu, the hurt and betrayal you felt knowing Jungkook told him everything was manifesting itself into anger at your ex lover.

“Whoa whoa, hey guys what happened?” Hobi appears by Lisa’s side, seemingly out of nowhere, panic striking his features, “Someone said you almost got into a fight?” He references towards Jimin.

“Where’s Jungkook? Have you seen him?” You ask your drummer quickly, your jaw clenching the more you think about those doe eyes that have now betrayed you more than once.

“Y/N let’s not—“

“Have you seen them?” You ask again interrupting Lisa, pushing yourself off the bar stool. Jimin has stayed silent, his eyes full of confusion and distrust as he looks your way.

“I-I think they might be downstairs?” Hoseok finally answers, looking between his three bandmates curiously. He should have expected he was walking into a shitshow when he heard Park Jimin of all people almost started a bar fight.

Without another word, you leave your bandmates rushing to find the nearest set of stairs down to the second floor. Your heels are making you slower than usual, almost slipping once or twice but you passively ignore it. Your blood was boiling and you weren’t leaving until you spoke to him. You’re looking around frantically at the packed bar; people everywhere, drinks flying, music loud, smoke clouds blazing. You make your way through the crowd towards the open area with tables and you nearly scream when a hand grabs your arm in the midst of it all.

“Y/N—woah, what’s the rush babe, come have a drink!”

“Yoongi! You scared the shit out of me,” you hold your chest over your heart, “Have you seen Jungkook? Or Taehyung? Or any of your fucking band—“

“Whoa whoa, what’s up?” He looks at you up and down, noticing your frantic state of mind.

“Have you?” You persist.

“We all were down at the first level, they might still be there,” he replies, tone lacing with concern. He’s about to ask what in the hell is going on but you turn away from him quick enough to escape. Yoongi watches your frame from behind as you walk away, an unsettling feeling washing over him and he can’t help but to follow you, sensing something was about to blow up.

You find locks of freshly dyed purple ends catching in the bar lighting right near the steps you just got off of. Your heart rate was surely going a million miles per hour. The new violet color of his hair perhaps sends you into overdrive. You stop fresh in your tracks when you get a better angle of the scene. It makes more bile rise in your throat and you feel like you could actually get sick.

Whailen is sat around a few nice couches and chairs, all laughing and drinking absentmindedly. All looks relatively normal until you see a girl propped up on Jungkook’s lap, her looking at him like he’s the brightest star of all the constellations. He’s laughing and clearly drunk, his hands a little too high on her thighs for your preference. There are other women around them too, but Jungkook was already in hot water with you—you weren’t letting him off the hook.

“Y/N?” Jungkook’s eyes immediately lock eyes with yours as you get closer to them. All of his bandmates and groupies look over at you, all smiling with welcoming ‘hello’s’ and ‘sit down’s’. Jungkook shifts awkwardly in his seat, removing his hands from the girl. She looks at you with furrowed brows, clearly unhappy that his attention is currently on you.

“Fuck you,” you spit at Jungkook, the entire area going silent.

“Woah what the fuck,” Yoongi says from behind you, grabbing your arm in the process of his words. You realized that he followed you and it only makes you more pissed off, jerking out of his light grip. Jungkook looks more than confused, pushing the girl off of him; perhaps that was the reason you were mad?

He stands up only a couple feet away from you now—“Y/N what’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

“What’s wrong?!” You step forward, not caring how much attention the two of you are drawing your way. “What’s wrong?!” You repeat, “First you can’t keep your fucking dick in your pants and now you can’t shut your fucking mouth?!”

“Y/N, let’s not do this here,” Yoongi chimes in again, trying to pull you away from the situation but you once again ignore him.

“What are you talking about? Y/N I really don’t—“

“Fuck you,” you say again, “I fucking hate you.” Once again—you don’t mean it but you felt the need to cut deep. Blame it on the booze—you couldn’t care less.

Jungkook steps forward grabbing your forearms, “Baby please I don’t know what you’re talking about, what’s wrong? We can go talk?” Jungkook was rambling at this point. Everything had been fine between the two of you—the best it’s been since your breakup—why were you so mad?

“I’m so fucking done with you after tomorrow,” you look at the band who sits there in disbelief about what has just transpired.

You walk away from their group, all eyes on you, anger spilling out of you unable to stop it. Jungkook calls after you but after your frame disappears, he’s never felt more confused and heartbroken in his entire life.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow towards Jungkook before pinching the bridge of his nose, speaking for the first time, “Well that was cheerful.”

_____

Jungkook woke up the next morning not feeling great—slightly hungover, his head heavy from the booze and heavy on you. After the outburst you had last night in front of the band, he found himself heavily drinking to drown out his uncertainty about what happened. For once in his life, he cannot for the life of him figure out what he did. Normally he could step back and tell himself, ‘okay, you did X, Y, Z which is why Y/N is upset’. This time—he had no clue.

To make it all worse—today was the day. The band competition was in less than 12 hours and Jungkook was unsure if you would actually show up for them today. You obviously were pissed beyond belief at him, which in turn jeopardizes Whailen 52’s show tonight. You were carrying a lot of weight for his band tonight and if you didn’t show out—it was going to be his fault.

“Man, I just don’t know what I did,” Jungkook inhales from the joint deeply, holding in the smoke as long as he could before exhaling. He passes it over to Yoongi, who eyes him suspiciously. A hangover wasn’t anything Jungkook couldn’t solve with a morning bake. He ended up crashing on Yoongi’s couch last night, too drunk to make it home by himself or with that girl he was with. What was her name again?

“I want to believe you Kook,” Yoongi inhales, “But given your track record…” he laughs while blowing the smoke away from the two of them.

“Hyung I’m not fucking lying,” the younger snaps, “I just don’t know why she always feel the need throw things up in my face without actually talking to me about it first,” he shakes his head, looking out over the small balcony of Yoongi’s apartment. It was a chilly day, the sun barely out—a great representation of Jungkook’s mood.

“Maybe because that’s what your relationship was?” Yoongi inhales once more before passing the joint back over. Jungkook stares at Yoongi with a heightened gaze, bringing the paper up to his lips. “I’m just saying,” he pauses, “You guys were younger and stupid, you would do something, she would do something and you two would instantly jump to conclusions without communicating.”

Jungkook hangs his head low, slightly nodding his head into agreement. Miscommunication was the root of many of yours and Jungkook’s problems in the relationship. Perhaps that’s bleeding over to whatever you are now.

“How can I fix it,” Jungkook mumbles, running a hand through his hair.

Yoongi watches his younger peer with a stoic expression. You and Jungkook were probably the two most stubborn people he knew—whatever was going to get you both straight—he didn’t have the answer.

“Do you want to be with her? Still?” He raises an eyebrow at Jungkook, who only gives Yoongi a glance from the side of his large eyes. It’s all the answer Yoongi needs. “Give her some time Kook, I don’t know how much… I mean give yourself some time too man. She’s been really unfair to you the past few months.”

“Because I fucking cheated on her—“

“Jungkook you can’t keep punishing yourself about that,” Yoongi interrupts, “If you truly want to be with her again, you have to forgive yourself and she has to forgive herself for the things she did to you.”

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans. He needed to talk to you before the show tonight. With so many wrongs, he wasn’t sure if he could make things right, but he had to try.

____

Your phone had not stopped buzzing from the moment you woke up this morning. Texts from friends and some family wishing you and your band good luck later tonight. You had a few texts from your band in the group chat, a few from Jimin (you were actively ignoring him at the moment), a few from Min Yoongi, and unsurprisingly, Jeon Jungkook (who you were also actively ignoring). With the amount of nerves bubbling in your veins today, you did not have the energy to deal with the people pinging you this morning.

Thankfully there was no sign of a hangover as you started to go about your morning. Lisa didn’t come home last night, opting to go sleep with one of her fuck buddies instead. She had yet to show face this morning and if she isn’t here by noon, that’s when maybe you would consider calling the police.

In the height of all your thoughts, stress cleaning your kitchen, a sudden knock on your door knocks you from your reverie. Guess you wouldn’t be calling the police after all. But why would Lisa just not come in? Did she forget her key?

You swing open the door, your eyes quickly scanning up a chest that is simply too big to be female. When you make eye contact, your jaw clenches and like instinct, you begin to slam to door back shut.

“Y/N, wait!—“ his hand slams down on the door, stopping you from closing it on his face. He’s too strong for you so you stop fighting, deciding to kick him out in a nicer fashion.

“What do you want Jungkook?” You stand in the threshold, crossing your arms over your chest to block him from coming in. “Are you high?” You push, noticing the whites of eyes a little too pink to be normal.

“Coming down,” he mutters. You roll your eyes about to shut the door again until he starts to speak, “Y/N we need to talk. I-I don’t know what I did and I don’t want you mad at me—I feel like we were finally getting somewhere,” he pauses running a panicked hand through his hair, “I wanna fix this—us—I get that we’re not perfect but I want this shit behind us, so please just let me come in.”

The straight look on your face doesn’t help him in anyway, but when you step aside to let him come in, he breathes a sigh of relief.

“Five minutes,” you warn as you shut the door behind you two.

“Y/N I just wanna say whatever you’re upset about—I’m sorry,” he doesn’t waste anytime, “I just don’t know what I did—I thought everything was good? And then you came up last night and I just genuinely didn’t know what you were talking about… and I didn’t want you to think I was belittling you by not knowing I just—“

“Jungkook stop,” you interrupt him letting out a deep breath. His desperation tells you that he seems to be telling the truth, though it still doesn’t ease your frustration against him. “You know who came up to me last night?”

He shakes his head, desperate for answers.

“Fucking Mingyu,” you spit angrily. Suddenly his expression falls, a pit opening up in his chest.

“Y/N—“

“No Jungkook—no,” you pause; you weren’t going to cry but you felt like you could if you let your walls down, “Not only did he spill to everyone that I was helping you guys out, he threw up my own father’s death in my fucking face.”

Jungkook’s mouth parts, his jaw clenching slightly. Truthfully, him and Mingyu had grown apart in the last few months, only catching up if they saw each other out. The last time they spoke, Jungkook did mention you were helping Whailen out which Mingyu scoffed at but he figured he couldn’t care less. Mingyu’s band was already bigger than Violet or Whalien—why would he care? Hearing that he said something to you about your dad doesn’t sit well with him. No matter how famous your father was in the music industry, it’s no ones place to bring it up.

“Holy shit, Y/N I’m so sorry I didn’t—“

“Jungkook you know that I’m doing this as a favor for Yoongi,” it somewhat cuts Jungkook through the chest to hear that he had no apparent weight in your decision, “But only Lisa knew and he brought it up in front of Jimin and I just—“ you stop, a lump forming in your throat. You had yet to explain yourself to him and you weren’t sure how you were going to.

“Y/N I’m sorry,” he pauses, unsure of what to say, “Honestly Mingyu and I aren’t that close anymore—I talk to him maybe a couple times a month now… when we were together I didn’t pay attention or care enough to pay attention to how shitty he was to you. And then after we broke up he would say the most horrible things about you and I just wasn’t having it—I’m so sorry I feel like he was probably doing in it spite of me because I told him to fuck off when it came to you, fuck no wonder you’re mad I—“

He stops to catch his breath, his eyes wandering away from yours. You feel the tense bite of your jaw loosening, your shoulders slacking, your defense mechanisms falling. You were smart enough to acknowledge your strengths—being self aware one of your prides—but you could also admit your flaws—and jumping to conclusions was something you were still working on fixing. Had you really gotten this so wrong? You suddenly felt stupid, like a child throwing a temper tantrum because someone said something that you didn’t like.

“Is that true?” You ask, though already knowing the answer. Jungkook notices the small look in your eyes, looking unsure and insecure about the situation.

“Yes, god,” he steps forward, his hands wrapping around your arms, squeezing you reassuringly, “Y/N I shouldn’t have said anything and I’m sorry for that,” he pauses, “Everyone was going to find out eventually but it wasn’t my place to say anything. I really am so sorry.”

You end up cracking a small smile, laughing to yourself for a moment. Jungkook looks at you confused, muttering a what.

“Stop apologizing,” you say looking up at his full stature. His head was a few inches from yours and you could faintly smell remnants of his cologne. “I should apologize to you—and the guys—fuck I’m such a bitch—“

“No, no you’re not,” he says, “Short tempered? That’s another thing,” his lips form into a small smile and you can’t help but roll your eyes, pushing his chest away from you slightly.

“Are they mad at me?” You ask referring to his band. You wouldn’t blame them if they were considering you pretty much told them all to fuck off last night.

He shakes his head some, “No I think they were just confused like me,” he laughs again and you throw your head back, letting out a groan. You really couldn’t catch a fucking break. And yourself was to blame for part of that. You make a mental note to bring it up to your therapist next session.

“I’m sorry Jungkook,” you finally say, stepping away from his frame some. He was so… large these days. It was intimidating. He doesn’t say anything, only watching as you somber over and throw yourself on your couch, stretching your legs out on the sectional with a groan.

He follows you a few moments after, sitting down on the opposite side of the couch, a silence falling over you two. You turn on your side, your eyes immediately meeting his again. His gaze isn’t heavy, but he’s a look on his face you can’t read. Then again, you weren’t necessarily good at reading him anyway.

“Have you talked to them yet?” He suddenly asks. It takes you a second to understand what he’s asking about.

“No,” you mutter, “I didn’t want them to be angry.”

He visibly swallows, “Don’t you think they’d get more mad if you don’t talk to them?”

You don’t answer him immediately, knowing he’s right.

“I care about him too much,” with your mention of a him, Jungkook knows exactly who you are talking about. Jimin.

“I know,” he mumbles, unsure of how he should feel. On one hand, he despises Jimin—hates that he was the person you ran to betray him all those months ago. On the other, Jimin is in your band and has known you longer than Jungkook has… as long as Jungkook wanted you in his life—Park Jimin was going to be there too.

“You should fucking hate me,” you mumble curling into yourself further into the couch.

“And you should fucking hate me,” he responds with wit. You’re not looking at him anymore, but you can sense his raised eyebrows, lips tight in a straight line.

“I don’t,” you say honestly. It was the exact opposite. He knew that. You knew that—you weren’t even trying to lie to yourself anymore.

You look back over to Jungkook, who is looking down at your coffee table aimlessly. Pursing your lips, your push yourself up, crawling over to his frame. He watches you curiously as you throw a leg over his lap to straddle him. You now have the power as he stares up at you, studying your face intensely. You bring a hand up to his throat catching him off guard, raising a single eyebrow at you.

“I don’t hate you,” you say, “I hate how you’re good at everything. I hate how you always know what to say. I hate that you cheated on me. I hate how you make feel sometimes.”

Your fingers dig into his throat some but he doesn’t seem to mind as he takes your grilling. His stares at your neck, trying to keep his composure beneath you. His heart rate had picked up the second you flopped yourself on his lap. He wasn’t sure what your motive was, but he would give in to anything you wanted.

“And I hate how much I fucking love you,” you whisper this time, dropping your gaze along with your hand, noticing the redness against his skin. Before your hand reaches your lap—he grabs your wrist tightly, making your eyes flick back up to his. His chocolate eyes have darkened to a near black. He’s chewing on his bottom lip slowly before his other hand comes up, wrapping itself around your throat this time. You freeze on top of him with your breathing picking up heavily.

He brings your head to his, his forehead against yours, his nose brushing against your own. His fingers press into your throat, a small whine for air coming through your lips. You shift against him, trying to create some space between you two but he’s strong—and he’s not letting you go anywhere.

“Is it my turn now?” He breathes heavily against your mouth and you try your best to swallow easily, but with his grip it has become more difficult. You look at him confused, a small “hm?” emerging from your chest. “To tell you all about my hatred for you?” His voice is low, barely above a whisper at this moment.

He quirks an eyebrow at you. You’re surprised you’ve held on for this long, not giving into his motions. Chest to chest, breath to breath, you manage a hand on his chest, bundling some of his sweatshirt together. With all your strength, you push him back into the couch, his hand leaving your throat, your actions slightly startling him.

One hand pinning him against his chest, one by his head, “Be my fucking guest.”

It’s all he needs to do what you’ve been wanting him to do for weeks now. His grip tightens around your waist and ass, pulling you down to close the gap between the two of you. Of all the people you’ve kissed in your lifetime, his lips were your favorite by far. His lips—oh his soft lips that haven’t changed from when you first met him at 18. Sometimes they tend to be more chapped than others, but they’ve always molded against yours so heavenly.

Both of you are equally tugging and pulling against each other, holding each other close, mouths entangled with one another. His tongue melts into your mouth, his hands squeezing your ass to push you further into his own pelvis. A whine escapes from your mouth when you pull away to catch your breath. He doesn’t let you rest long, his hand coming back up to your throat to bring your mouths together once again. You two hadn’t kissed in weeks—the last being in his studio which wasn’t planned and didn’t end how you expected it. Ending your mutual toxic occasional fucking was needed, but ending your relationship with Jungkook was hard and right now—you’re not sure why you had made that decision.

A deep groan emits from his lips, “Here,” he pauses, holding your face steady in one hand, “Or your room?”

Knowing Lisa could walk in any minute, you decide on the latter. Once in your room, Jungkook takes no time in discarding your clothes piece by piece. He sucks and nips at all angles of your neck and collarbones as he shoves you against your door. He’s being rough, but you weren’t opposed to it. In fact, it just made your panties all the more damp between your legs.

His actions turn slightly smoother when his lips reach yours again. His kissing sweet and gentle, the built up pining for each other spewing out in passionate bursts of energy. Feeling handsy, you push his sweatshirt up with him finishing slipping it off himself. His eyes are dark as you both take a few moments to just stare at one another.

He licks his lips, pressing his forehead against yours. Again, he grabs you by the throat, forcing your eyes to met his. Desperate to feel them again, but he holds his lips back mere inches from yours.

“I hate how you always jump to conclusions,” he whispers deeply and you can’t help but fight the urge to smile some.

“Is that it?” You raise your brow in response, cheekily enough to where it clearly irks him on the surface. He kisses you again, this time a little more rough and you gladly swallow all of him. Feeling bold and knowing it’s nothing you haven’t done before, you reach down to his pants, caressing the outside of his clothed cock. It’s already plump and swelled when you feel it, but you only get a few strokes in before Jungkook’s hand is swatting you away.

In a sudden motion, he turns you around, pushing your chest up against your door. You turn your cheek against the cold surface as he presses his body close to yours. With you trapped against the door and between his strong body, a small pathetic whine comes from you when you feel his hardened cock pressing into your ass.

“I hate how you slept with Jimin behind my back,” he nips at the section of your neck that’s exposed to him, his voice sharp and punctual with his words. You try your best to push off the door, but he’s too strong.

He rolls his hips into your ass, “Jungkook,” you whimper as he continues to kiss at your sensitive skin all the way from your neck, down to your exposed collarbone, and slowly across your upper back. Your nipples are hard against the cold surface and it only makes you more restless. To get back at him some, after he presses himself into you once more, you push your ass back which earns you a small groan from him.

“Ah fuck,” he breathes heavily, “I missed you so much.”

He speaks honestly and you can’t help the quick and desperate nodding you give him.

“Me too.”

He’s quick to let up some pressure on your frame to which you take the opportunity to turn back around, your hands gripping at the sides of his face to bring him in for a deep kiss. It was so hard not to give yourself to this man. He had broken your heart more than once, but he was always there to piece it back together. He was your catharsis and you weren’t sure if anyone else could fill the void that desperately needed to be filled.

“I hate how I can’t keep myself from you,” he breaks the kiss, taking you by your forearms, pulling you along until you are perched on his lap on the edge of your bed. Your room is chilly but with your naked chests pressed up against each other, his body was warm and comfortable. He was like your own personal strain of heroin—addicting and warm, getting you so high that you didn’t need anything else.

“Anything else?” You quirk your lips looking down at his beautiful face and hair that you’ve tousled in the process of making out.

He licks his lips slowly, his eyes weak and hazy. He’s obviously tired, coming down from the high hitting hard, but with you keeping himself hard, it was something he could push past.

“Baby I have a whole list,” he smirks, his hands rubbing calming circles on your skin. You push yourself harder onto his lap, wretchedly trying to feel his length. He moves slightly, pressing himself up into you sending chill bumps down your spine. You roll again, which sends him tilting his head back.

“Shit, stop that Y/N.”

You act like you don’t hear his remark, rolling your hips against him again. A shutter escapes your mouth when his hard cock brushes against your clothed clitoris. You needed more—you hated the space between you two. You needed his hands, his mouth, his pink tip—whatever to just to be close to your opening. He tries to hold you in place so you can’t move anymore, but he’s falling weak as you continue to grind down on him.

You are too occupied to notice how tight his grip has gotten on you, his heavy breathing dark and languid. You squeal when you are suddenly flipped over, Jungkook’s thick body pinning you down to your mattress.

“I said fucking stop,” he groans into your neck as he begins his journey to pull down your silky sleep shorts. To his surprise, you’re not wearing any underwear and the sight makes him lick his lips, biting the flesh every so slightly.

“I hate how you don’t fucking listen,” he pushes into the meat of your thighs, his large hands spreading you apart. Your back involuntarily arches the closer he gets to your dripping center. He hasn’t even touched you yet you could take him so well. All it takes is one lick, two kitten licks of his tongue before a sigh comes out of you.

Jungkook loves the way you taste. Anytime he eats you out, he treats it like it’s his last—afraid that his personal skittle, so sweet and delicate in the middle would recede far away. His mouth opens and closes in different motions, some slow and wide, other fast and close together. You grip his hair harshly, pushing his face down into your hole deeper, his nose brushing against your sensitive bud every once in a while.

You’re squirming at this point, your chest rising unevenly and Jungkook can tell your close. Your small whines make it hard for him to stay quiet, he himself mulling into your wet pussy. His hips buck into your mattress trying to find some pressure relief for himself.

“Fuck Jungkook,” your voice is louder than you were expecting, his tongue taking your breath away, “I’m gonna c-come,” you warn.

His eyes are dark as they look up at you, his tongue focusing on your sensitive bud to send you over the edge. Your hips begin to rise, your mouth falling open and eyes closing shut as he almost sends you off the cliff. With a few more licks to go to send you to a high you need to go, all of his movements stop. Your eyes fly open, down to the spot in between your legs, dumbfounded at his actions.

“What the f—“

“Baby’s been so mean,” he crawls back up to you, his sweatpants now hanging lower than ever, his happy trail out leading to your happy place. “I don’t think she deserves to come yet,” the way he slightly degrades you in 3rd person sends you in a spiral.

“Yes, yes, yes she does Kook, please,” you hold his face gently as you chase a kiss. He obliges, letting you taste yourself from him. He manages to shimmy out of the rest of his pants, revealing he’s not wearing any underwear either, his tip grazing across your entrance just waiting to be sucked in.

He smirks against you as he pulls away, allowing you to look at his sculpted body in all its glory. His chest is broad, his abdominals carved to perfection, his v line going right where you need him most. He cock is such a good size, just the right length and girth. His thick thighs are halfway straddling you as he reaches over into your nightstand to pull out a condom. You watch him skillfully rip open the package and put it on in less than 15 seconds, beyond ready to have your pussy stretched out.

He rubs your entrance with his tip, holding himself up with one arm by your head. Neither of you are looking at each other, too enthralled with the way he puts his juicy pink tip in, only to pull it out after some shallow thrusts.

You’re about to push your hips to hurry the process but before you can, you’re suddenly flipped over, ass in the air and your back pushed down into your mattress.

“Oh fuck!—“ your breath is taken away as Jungkook quickly finds his way into your tight walls, a deep groan emitting from him.

“Oh god—shit,” he breathes, shoving himself as deep as he can go, one hand keeping your back down against the sheets. You feel tears stinging your eyes as he stretches you full, your hands fisting the sheets beneath you.

“Jungkook please move—”

“Fuck baby you’re so tight though… always so fucking tight just for me right?”

You mewl, head nodding in your sheets, “Yes yes, only for you baby—please move Jungkook,” you’re begging with tears, your pussy throbbing against his length.

Jungkook shifts slightly to a more comfortable position, one hand gripping your waist to hold you against him tightly, the other falling against your neck to keep your torso down. Hesitantly, he pulls out some, jerking his hips right back into the deepest parts of your insides. You swear you feel him pressing into your gut and it leaves you breathless.

“I hate,” he pulls out again a little more, “How fucking,” he slams his hips back, “Needy you always were,” he groans as he begins a steady pace in and out of you. Your moans are becoming louder and louder as he snap of his hips are harder than the last. His words go completely over your head, too intoxicated by his thick cock moving against your walls.

“Oh fuck,” you are face down into your pillows at this point, headboard clanking against the wall. He watches your small frame keeping heavy tempo, watching his dick move in and out of your slick center. It’s obscene, sending his head backwards as he tries to catch his breath.

“Shit baby,” he breathes out heavily, “Look at me,” he commands.

You do your best, turning your head on your cheek, your eyes meeting his swiftly. It’s hard to hold his gaze in this position with your head buried in your pillow, but you manage. Jungkook leans forward on one hand, his chest grazing your back, his lips hovering above your right ear.

“Jungkook,” you say, hardly able to breath under his weight as he keeps his hips snapping deep within your walls. He stops momentarily, slowing down to watch your face contort as he hits the spot in you that you desperately needed relief to.

“Pretty girl,” he kisses the exposed skin on your shoulder with an open mouth, “My pretty girl… does she wanna come?”

You nod quickly into the sheets, unable to hold his gaze as he reaches under you to circle your clit. You jerk in his hold, still sensitive from moments ago, even more so when he suddenly bites down on your skin harshly.

“Ah!” Your half-scream is muffled as he continues his contradicting motions of fast hips yet steady pace of his thumb on your clitoris. He’s always been your best and it never takes long when he’s fucking you. You turn your head once again for some air, pushing yourself up on your elbows as best as you can, knowing your glorious orgasm is fast approaching.

“Jungkook—fuck I’m gonna, come,” your breathy moans makes Jungkook’s cock impossibly harder inside you. There was no way he was going to last long at this point. He wanted to make you feel good and fall apart over him—he fucking lived for it.

You fall apart in his grip, your body losing tension as you fall back into your pillows. You’re clenching around his dick in random spurts, Jungkook’s own moans becoming deep and short, as if he’s trying to hold them in. He only continues to pound into you from behind a few more strokes as he lets you ride out your orgasm. You’re squirming underneath him as its becoming all too sensitive, but you know it could easily turn into another one soon if you pushed through.

Abruptly, he pulls completely out of you. You push yourself back up, looking over your shoulder—“Jungkook?—“

You’re cut off when he grabs you, hands around your waist and tummy, flipping you around so you’re now completely on your back. He loved throwing you around like a rag dog and you obviously let him. In public, you were always the one wearing the pants in your relationship—in the bedroom though, it was completely opposite. You figured that out all those years ago when you first got with him.

The two of you make eye contact at the same time, making your nipples pebble from a chill. The atmosphere shifts in your small room. The tension is dense and you’re unsure of his next move. He runs his tongue inside his mouth, before biting his lip in contemplation. You’ve now fully recovered from your orgasm, your legs already spread for him to come back, but he keeps his gaze locked on yours.

“Scoot back,” he commands softly. You do exactly as you are told, scooting on your elbows, your head falling back on the plush pillow. His face his blushed a soft pink as he quickly follows, positioning himself between your legs comfortably.

He grabs his still harden cock with his tattooed hand, lining it back up with you. You push your hips up and out to ease him in slowly. A gasp escapes both your lips as he slides in inch my inch, his forehead descending against your own.

“Fuck,” he closes his eyes tightly, sucking his bottom lip in as he starts to move in painfully slow thrusts. Nonetheless, he’s still hitting you hard and deep enough for you to keen into him, profanities and moans tumbling out every few seconds.

Your insides are hot and slick and Jungkook feels himself edging closer and closer to his own orgasm. Between the sounds coming from both pairs of your lips, he cannot help himself become overwhelmed in your presence. He knows it’s you—it’s always been you. No one would ever compare to how you make him feel. He doesn’t know why he fucked another girl when he had you waiting at home—arguing or not. He shuts his eyes tightly as a particularly loud moan emits from your mouth, trying to shut out his thoughts too in the process.

He maneuvers your left leg up around his waist so he can feel the deepest parts of your insides.

You’ve now built up a sweat, Jungkook too as both of you focus on pleasuring each other for as long as possible. Above you, Jungkook looks like an angel as he drops to his elbows, nuzzling his head into the crook of your shoulder. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around him to pull him closer as he pace against you picks back up. He’s close—his heavy, uneven breathing in your ear being the indicator. You weren’t sure if you were going to come again, but honestly you didn’t mind. All you cared about was helping Jungkook get there, wanting him to come deep inside of you, pushing his come in and out of you as he rides out his high. The thought makes you even wetter, your pussy pulsing around him as his breaths continue to shorten.

Your train of thought is broken when you suddenly feel a wetness appear—dropping—onto the bare skin of your shoulder. You hear a muffled whine coming from Jungkook and you nudge him slightly, one of your hands flying down to his hip to stop his motions.

“Jungkook?” You whisper… was he crying? He fights against your palm as he tries to continue his pace, his face still buried beside yours. “Guk—baby—“

“Fucking stop—“ he groans almost angrily as he pushes himself up to look down at you. You were right—his eyes were stained with tears, pink and slightly swollen around the edges.

“Jungkook,” you push yourself up on your elbows, his hard cock still inside you as he stills his motions, “What’s wrong? Baby, what’s wrong?” You grab onto his face gently, bringing him back down with you.

He doesn’t look at you, keeping his gaze down at your chest. He shakes his head slightly, a tear dropping down on your skin.

“Fuck,” he breathes as he starts to thrust in and out of you again. Your hands relax against his face as pleasure again seeps through your veins. “Fuck—Y/N—“ he pauses, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry—“

His forehead falls against yours, finally looking you in the eyes. He’s fighting a battle in his head and you’re confused at his words until he speaks again.

“I’m so sorry,” he manages as his orgasm is just right there on the horizon, “For ever—everything,” he says, his voice trailing off and breathy.

“Jungkook come inside—please,” you beg, holding him close, your lips grazing his as he thrusts upward each time, “Come on baby, please come for me, it’s okay—“

“Ah—ah!” he stutters as he finally finds his sweet release, shoving his hips as far up as you’ll let him. You push your hips out to help him ride out his high, the sounds from his mouth sending you squirming beneath him looking for another release.

“Fuck,” Jungkook breathes out as he sits up, about to pull out but you grab his wrist before he can.

“Keep it in me, please,” you beg from the tip of your tongue and he nods eagerly. Both of you watch as his penis pushes back inside you. His tip catches over your clit and you jerk beneath him. He does it against experimentally and when a moan falls from your lips. It only takes a minute or two before you come again from his rubbing and despite Jungkook’s oversensitivity—he does it for you. He wants to please you and only you.

Exhausted, Jungkook falls halfway against your frame; one leg and an arm thrown around you, the other half of his body lay flat beside you, his face down in your pillow. You too are now tired, the mattress beneath you calling you in for a nap but with Jungkook right here, you disobey.

“Jungkook,” you nails scratch against his dark purple hair. He keens into your touch, but doesn’t say anything. “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head again but this time open his eyes to meet yours. You can only imagine how you look from this angle having to scrunch your neck to properly look down at him. He doesn’t care though, only seeing you for what you are; beautiful and like no one else he’s ever met.

You think he’s about to tear up again as his bottom lip quivers ever so slightly. Jungkook’s about to push himself away from you too embarrassed to look at you, but when you pull him impossibly closer to settle between your legs again, he feels himself calm down some. It still doesn’t change the heavy heart in his chest as he looks down at you. You lean up, indicating what you what and he obliges, kissing you gently.

Your mouths move slowly and synchronously. His weight falls back on you as your head pushes down in your plush pillow, one of his hands caressing your face gently as he fights to pull away.

“I’m sorry for everything,” he barely whispers breaking your kiss to speak. He kisses you again and you hold onto the wrist of that hand that’s caressing your face.

“Jungkook—“

“We had it so good,” his voice breaks off, “And I had to fucking ruin it.”

You furrow your eyebrows, a heavy feeling replacing the lightheartedness that was remnant from your orgasms.

“Jungkook, no,” you shake your head slightly. You were somewhat lying to make him feel better—but you also ruined it too. You could tell he was fighting himself internally about the situation. For months both of you had been fighting yourselves for different things but your relationship was a common denominator.

“I loved you so much,” he sighs out heavily, “I still love you—I don’t know why I did what I did,” he shakes his head angrily at himself, “I wanted everything with you—our dreams, a family—“ he stops himself abruptly.

While he’s not outwardly saying exactly what he did—you know exactly what he is referring to. The painful memories dig a hole in your chest, the shovel piercing your lungs with each blow. The two of you talked for so long about making it big together—eloping off whenever the time was right down the line—having babies—it was what you longed for. You feel your own tears begin to prick in the corners of you eyes, your lip quivering as you inhale a deep breath.

Jungkook is quick to notice, holding onto the left side of your face gently as you bring your two hands up to hold his face close to yours.

“Fuck,” you finally let out some of your anguish, tears rolling down the side of your cheek and on the pillow.

“There isn’t a day that goes go by where I regret everything,” he speaks again, wiping tears with his thumb. “I think about you every second, of every day, and I blame myself for how much I hurt you—“

“Guk stop,” you interrupt him, meeting his intense gaze. His weight was heavy on top of you but nothing was heavier than your heart was feeling. “Please stop blaming yourself—“

“How can I not Y/N?” His tone changes to a slightly defensive one, rolling off your body in the process leaving you a lot colder than before. He lays on his back beside you, staring up at the ceiling as he lets out a deep sigh to control anymore tears from flowing, “If I hadn’t of cheated on you—we wouldn’t be here doing this. Fighting and fucking, pretending to be just friends—“

“Jungkook stop,” you reinforce this time, setting yourself up on an elbow to gaze down at him, “Please stop this, I fucked up just as bad as you and I regret it every fucking day,” you pause again as a sob escapes your lips. Jungkook gaze softens when he sees how broken you are, pulling your body over to his, head resting on his chest.

He lets you quietly cry into his bare chest, his own pit growing deeper than ever in his chest. He’s not sure now is the right time to say what he wants to say, but at this point, he doesn’t care.

“I’m sick of this Y/N,” he says in a whisper, caressing the hair behind your head as you nuzzle into him, your whole body freezing from his words. What’s he going to say? You let out a noise that his representative of a hm before he continues.

“Baby I love you so much,” he forces you to look at him, holding your head in place. Thankfully you had stopped crying, only looking a little tired now. “I will never stop loving you despite everything,” he pauses, “I mean this from my fucking soul Y/N—please, please, can we just stop this and do it for real…”

Your breath halts in the back of your throat as you let out a small gasp. Your mouth goes dry, hands clammy against his bare chest as you push yourself up slowly. A look of panic strikes across his features as he thinks you’re getting up to leave—to run away from him—all over again. His face relaxes when you stay perched on his torso, legs straddling either side of his muscular body, the smallest smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Jungkook…” you finally speak after a couple moments of silence, his thumbs rubbing at the skin where your hip folds in your position. “I don’t—“ you pause, unsure of what to say. You don’t what?

“You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it Y/N,” his tone is patient, as if he’s walking on eggshells to test the waters in your response.

You let out a deep breath, your eyes wandering around your room aimlessly. Subconsciously your nails are grazing his chest as you ponder. He’s right once a-fucking-gain; you had thought about it. Nearly everyday since you two broke up. You thought about it when you were sucking another guys cock. You thought about it when another guy was balls deep inside of you. You dreamed about it on a nightly basis. Being with Jungkook was the happiest times of your life thus far. You betrayed each other though—in the worst ways possible—and you were afraid that guilt would never go away and the trust would never come back. It’s why you have had to keep him at an arms length, only using him when you liked—because he had proved you wrong in every scenario since. You wanted your thoughts about Jungkook to be negative—to keep you in that place so you wouldn’t seem like the girl who crawled back to her cheating ex. However, as each day passes on without Jungkook in your life in the way you know he’s supposed to be—you couldn’t care less if you looked that to way to other people.

“Baby say something,” he interrupts your thoughts, snapping you back down to reality. Your eyes meet his chocolate ones; so big and full of life. Jungkook pushes himself up, maneuvering to fully sit up as he continues to hold onto you closely. Your noses brush against each other as he grabs the side of your neck tenderly. You needed Jungkook in more ways than one—but first and foremost, you needed time.

“I love you too Jungkook,” you nod, your words true to your heart, “But—“ Jungkook tenses up beneath you, “I need to think about it… with everything going on, I just need to figure my shit out.”

It’s not the answer Jungkook was hoping for. He stares at you, somewhat lifeless, his heart crushing in his chest. Of course he understands where you’re coming from—after all he was the one to originally pull away those weeks ago in his practice studio. He’s always been a little selfish—a lot fucking selfish—too greedy for his own fucking good. His greed is what lead him to make idiotic choices that turned into lifetime regrets, but this time—he wasn’t going to let greed get the best of him.

“Okay.”

You were expecting him to fight you, but his answer makes you so content you almost regret not jumping all over him again—making him yours again. You restrain though, knowing that he’s respecting your decision to which you are thankful for. If this was going to be on your time, you knew what you needed to do. You were scared that he wouldn’t wait for you forever, but the way he holds you close despite everything—tells you otherwise.

Neither one of you say anything else—unsure of what to say or how to say anything else at this point. It was clear—the two of you wanted to work it out and get back together and you weren’t going to take advantage of him anymore.

It wasn’t long after when you found yourself showering the mess you made off of each other. The innocence didn’t last long when he ends up making you come one more time around his cock, convulsing until he does the same. He makes sure to dry you off gently, skin still sensitive from his touches. He nuzzles into your neck, wrapping his strong arms around your towel covered front.

“Goddamit, Jungkook.”

“What?” He asks, eyes wide and scared he’s done something wrong.

“Your hair,” you can’t help but laugh as you watch the purple hair dye droplets fall onto your collarbone and down to the white fluffy towel wrapped around you.

He chuckles with you, muttering a sorry before grabbing another towel himself to dry his hair. You roll your eyes at his actions, knowing that you were definitely going to have to bleach the fabric a couple times to remove the purple haze. You watch him with domestic eyes, his muscles contracting and relaxing as he moves around your tiny bathroom. This was too real to keep putting up a wall. You couldn’t crack right now though—tonight was the most important night of your life.

The two of you make it back to your room and Jungkook quickly gets dressed in the clothes he came here in. You follow suit, slipping into another pair of shorts and a sweatshirt for the time being. Unable to control yourself, you saunter over to him, wrapping your arms around his torso. He returns your hug quickly, resting his head on your own.

“I’m sorry Jungkook,” you mutter into his chest, “I’ve been so horrible to you—“

“Don’t say that,” he replies and he feel him shaking his head, “I forgive you Y/N… I’m ready to move forward whenever you are.”

You smile into his chest, butterflies piling up into your stomach. You’re about to respond but your moments of warmth and bliss are interrupted when you hear the front of your apartment door open. You know immediately that it’s Lisa but your stomach drops when you hear two other voices behind her. Jimin and Hoseok.

“I should go,” Jungkook murmurs as he pulls away from you. You only give him a nod, preparing yourself for the worst as soon as you two walk out of your room.

Your three bandmates are chattering aimlessly around the small dining room table until you appear with Jungkook trailing right behind you.

“Oh Jesus,” Lisa mutters when she sees the sight. Given yours and Jungkook’s wet hair, the three of them have to know exactly what just went down between you him. Fuck.

“H-hey,” you greet your band with a grimace, turning over your shoulder to look up at Jungkook’s pretty face, “I’ll see you later.”

He’s not looking at you as he nods, his gaze focused on the three sets of eyes at stare at you and him. He finds his way out of your apartment, leaving you standing alone a few feet away from your band. You hang your head low, shuffling your feet against the floor to sit down with them at your 4-person table.

“Hey,” Hobi is the first one to speak after the painful silence, “We picked up Lisa this morning and wanted to check in on you after last night.”

“I think she’s doing just fine,” Lisa remarks snarlingly, crossing her arms over her chest as she sits back further into the seat.

“Lisa,” Jimin speaks this time as you roll your eyes.

“What?! You want to make a fucking a scene last night only to turn around and fuck the very guy you were mad at?”

“Fuck you Lisa,” you spit angrily knowing she doesn’t even know the full story. You understand where Jungkook’s temperament came from about you jumping to conclusions.

“Stop it—both of you,” Hobi chimes back in with annoyance lacing his tone, “We shouldn’t be fighting on days like today.”

“Well when the leader of our fucking band doesn’t act like a leader anymore, it’s fucking exhausting,” she glances your way and you shift in your seat uncomfortably. Your leg bounces up and down uncontrollably.

“Jesus fuck did you—“

“No—Lisa’s right guys,” you sigh deeply, “I haven’t been myself the past couple months and I realized that I’ve taken out my anger on the people I care about the most.”

“Y/N,” Jimin says softly; gentle and kind, “But you with your dad and—“

“I can’t keep using that an excuse to hurt everyone around me, I’m even hurting myself by not taking any steps forward,” you finally have the courage to look up from your picked cuticles. You really should paint your nails before tonight. “I’m sorry I haven’t completely been here and I’m sorry for keeping secrets from you guys about helping Jungkook and his band.”

Jimin hangs his head low, a hand running through his hair as he contemplates what to say.

“I didn’t want you guys to be upset with me—“

“Lisa already told us Y/N,” Hobi says and you quickly give her a glare that resembles a ‘really?’.

“There was no point in trying to hide it,” she shrugs her shoulders aimlessly. You breathe in deeply, knowing she’s right. Who were you kidding? There was no point in hiding it. Jungkook was right, Lisa was right—everyone would find out eventually.

“I know,” you mutter, “I just—I didn’t want you guys to be upset with me. I’ve already been absent enough, I didn’t want it to seem like I was abandoning you.”

“I think I—we,” Jimin corrects himself, though you know he actually is referring to himself, “We were just more upset that you didn’t tell us. Yeah it sucks we gotta share you but it’s fine… really Y/N,” he continues and you can’t help but send him a small smile.

“You guys always come first, you know that right?” You reassure. Your dad always instilled in you—once you start something, you finish it. And Violet had a long way to go—quitting wasn’t an option for you.

“Hell yeah,” Hobi smiles, bumping your knee from under the table, “We wouldn’t be here without you babe.”

“Exactly,” Jimin smiles and he grabs your hand, squeezing it momentarily, “Hobi and I are gonna head out but we’ll see you guys later? We’re meeting around five, right?”

The four of you stand up and Hobi comes over to you, sweeping you up in a big hug. All the worries in the pit of your stomach suddenly go away as the room feels 10 times lighter than before. You don’t know why you were always so anxious about everything. You suppose you get it from your dad—always worried about what’s next or what’s going to happen or what will people think of me? At the end of the day, with these people around you who care about you so deeply—you have realized everything will be all right.

“We’re gonna kick Whailen ass tonight,” Jimin says to you, giving you a hug too before he leaves with Hoseok, “Mess up a couple chords if you’re feeling ballsy,” he gives you a wink and you can’t help but laugh at his statement. The thought had crossed your mind during practices with them—but you know in your heart you couldn’t do that to Jungkook, especially Yoongi—he would have you by the throat.

After your drummer and lead guitarist leave, the lighter atmosphere seems to have dissipated when you realize one thing. Lisa had barely spoken to you since she walked in. The way she walks past you and back into her room across the apartment says she’s clearly still upset with you.

“Lisa wait,” you call out, following her footsteps closely. She doesn’t answer you as she roams around her room, gathering what seems to be clothes and underwear to change into. “Are you really still mad at me?”

She drops what she is doing, crossing her arms with a huff, “I’m not mad at you Y/N, I’m just—“ she pauses running a hand through her dark hair, “You know you’re my best fucking friend. I don’t want you and Jungkook to keep crawling back to each other the way you are. It’s toxic and it’s hurting both of you.”

Your posture falls as you mimic her actions, your arms folding across your boobs, “I know,” you nod, “We talked about it this morning—“

“I think you two did more than talk,” she interjects.

You hide a smile, “Regardless—we agreed to work on our communication and move past whatever this is,” you wave your hand aimlessly, “He said he wants to try again.”

She tilts her head, “As in… like get back together?” She asks, a nod coming from your shortly after, “Well what did you say?”

“I said I needed time to think about it,” you shrug.

“Do you actually?”

Her question is somewhat loaded. The look in her big eyes tells you everything she’s thinking. She’s the one person you know—aside from family—who can read you like an open book.

“I don’t know,” you whine, “I just wanna get through tonight and then think about my fucked up love life okay?”

“I won’t argue with you on that,” she tsks,” Whatever is going to make you happy, I’m going to be happy for you. If that’s Jungkook then fine—it’s not my business… just learn from the past okay?”

You nod stepping forward some with your arms outreached. She returns your hug forcefully but lovingly. She’s been there for you since the beginning—it was time you trusted her fully.

“Alright, I gotta shower,” she breaks the hug.

“So you’re not mad at me?” You ask her with big eyes as she gathers her things up.

“No,” she smiles, taking a piece of your now damp-almost dried hair in her fingers, “You showered with Jungkook didn’t you?”

You feel heat rising to your cheeks, a short laugh emitting from you. You swat her hand away, “So what if I did?”

She narrows her eyes at you, slapping your thigh with the underwear in her other hand, “Because I would like to know if I might be stepping on Jungkook’s kids or not.”

You let out a cackle, making sure to flip her off on your way back to your room.

____

You were more nervous than usual. You had barely eaten anything all day, using coffee to suppress your appetite this in turn making you more jittery than normal. Your hands were clammy and your stomach was in knots. There was a lump in your throat and a weight in your chest as heavy as stone. You had probably changed outfits six times. You settled on something different from your usual affair with slips and converse opting for straight legged leather pants that laced up your hips and a cropped tank. Your lips were still painted your signature red, hair a little messy from anxiously running your hands over it so many times.

Violet was scheduled to be the 5th band to go on once the competition started. Whalien 52 was going to be the 8th, giving you a bit of a break before you had to step back out on stage. Each band was given 3 songs to present so you had exactly 6 to perform. Keeping the songs separate in your mind was easy, but actually going out to play the different chords was going to be more difficult. You realized that’s where most of your nerves was coming from—not from your band, but Whailen. You wanted to win, knowing Violet was the best band here, but you also couldn’t fuck up while playing with Whailen. They deserved their chance as much as you.

“Y/N?” Jimin asks, nudging your from your thoughts. In your heels you don’t have to look up at him, looking him directly in the eyes, “You okay?” He knew you were off the moment him and Hobi met up with you and Lisa.

“Just nervous is all,” you dismiss, “A little nauseous but it’ll fade.”

He nods once, throwing an arm around you to pull you closer to him. Currently you and him had wandered off away from your “dressing room” so to speak to check out the venue one last time before the show was to begin.

“I am too,” he says with a short laugh. You only give him a glance knowing that’s a shocker. Jimin was the one in your band who always held it together the best. Looking out at the masses of people gathering at the venue though, it was understandable. The competition was being held at an outside pavilion despite the chilliness being that it was the middle of fall now. You didn’t ask specifically how many people would be here, personally not wanting to know for your own sake, but you had heard close to 4,000. It would be the biggest show you’ve played in your career thus far.

Backstage was hectic with many sound technicians, electrical engineers, other people from bands checking out the audience filing in, and people from Geffen Records sauntering around frantically making sure everything was ready to go. You and Jimin decide on going back to your dressing room, not wanting to be in the way of everyone trying to do their job.

You walk back into the dressing room to find Lisa tweezing Hobi’s eyebrows which you take no surprise to. The sight amuses you, briefly making your forget about the task at hand.

“Lisa I swear to God if—“

“I’m not fucking up your pretty face Hobi I promise,” she remarks as he lets out a yelp of pain.

“When do we go on again?” He asks to no one in particular.

“Fifth,” you answer monotonously going over to your guitar case. You open it up, relaxing once you see the lavender Fender. You briefly considered choosing to play one of your dad’s guitars, but you knew that he would have wanted you to play the one you were most comfortable with.

“Do you guys wanna go—ouch!” Hobi jerks away from Lisa as she giggles, finally leaving his poor face alone, “Watch the others before we go on?” He finishes.

“Sure—“

“No—“

You and Jimin answer simultaneously, yours being the latter. You look over at Lisa who only shrugs, muttering she didn’t care or not.

“How about Hobi and I go watch the first couple and then we’ll come back and get you two? Maybe you should eat something Y/N… warm up your voice and stuff?” Jimin offers graciously.

“Okay, that’s fine,” you give them a small smile as they leave the dressing room, leaving you alone with Lisa. While Jimin’s words were kind, you definitely weren’t going to stomach any food right now that was for sure.

“Have you talked to Jungkook since earlier?”

“No,” you sink down into the small couch, slipping off your shoes for the time being. You meant your words—you had tunnel vision on the competition. Jungkook could wait. You feel around for your phone under your thighs when you feel it buzzing.

“Listen Y/N if it’s going to be too much to play with them, you know you don’t have to,” she offers as she sits down beside you, tucking her legs underneath her.

You give her a short glare, “It’s fine Lisa… I wouldn’t back out on them now.”

You open your phone after you have messages from a few people and a couple missed calls. The calls would have to wait to be returned. But the messages that catch your eye the most are from Jungkook and your mother.

You only faintly read Jungkook’s noticing a red heart at the end of his, focusing on the one from your mother.

[Mom 5:37 PM] Good luck tonight sweetie. Your dad would be so proud of you. I’m sorry I can’t be there, but we both will be in spirit.

You heart leaps. Your mom was not one to approve of your music endeavors as much as your father, so while the message isn’t much; it’s something.

“We got this Y/N,” Lisa grabs your knee, giving you a reassuring squeeze. You grab her hand tightly, knowing she’s been on this journey with you the longest. You know she’s just as nervous as you are the way her hand slightly shakes in yours. We got this.

Down the hall in another dressing room, sits Whailen 52 gathered together in silence. Taehyung was sat on his phone trying to distract himself with a game. Yoongi was relaxed on the couch, stretched out nonchalantly—probably the least nervous of everyone here. Jin was plucking his bass at random, making sure it was in perfect tune. Namjoon was there too; sat at a stool drumming with one stick in hand. Jungkook was sat on the opposite end of Yoongi, foot tapping up and down nervously. He was going between biting his nails and picking at the callouses on his hands. He felt sick. If he ever thought he was nervous before this show—those previous were nothing.

He glances at his phone. 5:57 PM. The first band is about to start after short introductions. Everyone could hear the crowd all the way back down these hallways. He hadn’t dared to wander around to see how many people were actually here. He refused to sike himself out before he even sat down behind the drum kit. Fuck, he thinks, he really wishes he was playing guitar tonight. He would feel a lot more confident than he does right now.

“Y/N and her band are going fifth,” Yoongi says aloud breaking the silence, “We should support her and go watch them…”

Jungkook looks around the room, big eyes waiting for someone else to respond. Namjoon speaks first; “Why?” He remarks.

“Did you seriously just ask that?” Yoongi mutters pinching in between his eyebrows, “He never fucking learns…” he says in a half whisper but Jungkook hears him clearly. “She texted me, she said she’d like us there.”

This—gets Jungkook’s attention. You were texting Yoongi? But not texting him? He pulls out his phone, immediately going straight to his messages with you. Did he overstep with you? Did he finally scare you away?

[Jungkook 4:13 PM] thank you for this morning. good luck tonight. i’ll see you later. ❤️

He shakes his head trying to not let him get to tied up in his intrusive thoughts. It was fine. If he was nervous, he couldn’t imagine how you were feeling. He would see you soon anyway. It was fine.

___

You were standing in the wings of the amphitheater, nerves coursing through your body like heroin convulsing through your veins. It was loud—too loud. The crowd was deafening. The fourth band finished their set to great applause and cheers. Perhaps you had underestimated just how good everyone here was. Lisa, Jimin, and Hobi were all feeling the same. Hobi stood behind you, drum sticks in hand jumping in place to ease some of his energy. Lisa was to your left, Jimin to your right looking out over the crowd.

“Fuck,” Jimin marvels, turning towards you, “You guys good?”

Hobi approaches the three of you, all of them looking to you to say something.

You let out a deep breath, “Yeah,” you pause, “We’re good at what we do, we can do this. My dad always told me if you can dream it, you can do it.”

The four of you give each other one last tight hug before the host says;

“And the next band of the night comes right here out of the city, female-led and impressive as hell—Violet!”

The next few moments are a blur. You are strapping up your guitar and plugging it into the amp cord, walking out onto the biggest stage you’ve ever set foot on, stage lights blinding you for a moment you almost miss how many people are here. Your vision then focuses and your stomach drops once again. The pavilion is huge and in the time you first scoped it out—the crowd had doubled. Everyone is already cheering for you which makes you smile a bit.

You look over to your right, Lisa marveling at the crowd. To your left, Jimin isn’t looking at the crowd, but giving you a reassuring smile. You glance back over your shoulder, Hobi beaming a bright smile to the crowd as he tweaks with the drum set for his liking. Back in the wings, a sound technician gives you a thumbs up whenever for whenever you’re ready.

You turn to your microphone, letting out a deep breath to steady your heart rate. You bite your lip nervously and before you even realize it, you’re speaking and addressing the biggest crowd you’ve step in front of.

“Good evening,” you break a smile, “We’re Violet… I want to dedicate our set to my dad who I know is looking over me right now,” this returns even more applause. The majority of the people must know who you are, or at least who your father is as some in the crowd send you waves of “rock on” hand signs. It calms you a bit and you hope your dad can feel the love.

“Ready guys?” You turn back to your band and they all nod, just waiting on your cue. Hobi counts the four of you in and you begin to strum your guitar. It’s such a simple melody and it’s slower than what the crowd had been used to—but symbolic for you in more ways than one.

“Every time that I sell myself to you… I feel a little bit cheaper than I need to,” you pause for a breath, “I will tear petals off of you, rose red I will make you tell the truth.”

As you sing, you realize that your nervousness is finally subsiding, turning into bubbling adrenaline.

“Was she asking for it? Was she asking nice? Was she asking for it? Did she ask you twice?”

While the crowd isn’t moshing or necessarily jumping up and down with excitement—it’s exactly why you chose this as the opener. You knew it would be different and would make you stand out. It was a risk for sure, but you hoped that it would pay off.

“And if you live through this with me I swear that I will die for you, and if you live through this with me I swear that I will die for you—“

The song picks up and so does your voice—

“Was she asking for it? Was she asking nice? Yeah she was asking for it… did she ask you twi-ice—“

The song finishes after a few more moments of strings and Violet is met with huge applause by the crowd. You give out a smile, looking over to Jimin who gives you a wink. Fuck, this felt good. You could get used to this.

With two more songs to go—you suddenly felt on top of the world. A Violet rendition of Umbrella by Rihanna is what you play next. The crowd appreciates some more upbeat music coming their way and your fingers strum your chords naturally. One thing is for sure—you were made to do this. With your final song starting, you were sad that you couldn’t stay on longer to showcase everything Violet had to offer.

The final song was an important one that took your band a few days to figure out what you wanted to play. You had debated playing an original, but you knew that it would showcase was Violet could bring as band.

You had started writing the song a couple months after yours and Jungkook's breakup but only finishing it recently with your life turn of events. The melody and chords were simple despite the heavy lyrics you came up with at 4 AM one night.

"Why do all of the monsters come out at night? Why do we sleep where want to hide? Why do I run back to you like I don't mind if you fuck up my life."

The crowd seems to instantly enjoy it. The song brings you back to those nights with Jungkook that always ended painfully. You feel as if the two of you had come so far since then which made it a little easier to sing now.

"Tell me pretty lies, look me in my face, tell me that you love me even if it's fake..."

"Dead, thinking about you you're in my head; even without you I still feel dead. Why do I run back to you like I don't mind if you fuck up my life?"

"Like I don't mind if you fuck up my life?"

The songs ends with Hobi clashing against the drums and you feel a weight leave your shoulders. You open your eyes, blinded by the lights again before a smile spreads across your face.

Loud cheers and applause errupts, sending chills down your spine. Your whole band thanks everyone before you exit, the four of you holding hands to bow before you leave the stage. You were sweaty, shaking, and high on excitement. When the four of you exit the stage, you have barely gotten your guitar off when Jimin is scooping you up from behind, Lisa jumping into Hobi’s arms. All of you guys are squealing, out of breath, excited, uneasy—every emotion in the book. You think you might cry when you give thought to your dad being here with you. He would have loved to see you do this.

“That was fucking crazy!” Hobi yells with ecstasy, “Fuck Y/N they loved you holy shit, I haven’t drummed like that in years! Jesus Christ!” He’s talking out of his ass at the moment but you don’t blame him. You on the other hand are mute, unable to process what just happened. Everything went to plan—you sounded so smooth and tight. It was fucking perfect.

Once you get back to your dressing room, you immediately take off your heels to aid your throbbing feet, throwing yourself down on the couch. You weren’t too sweaty, the chill of the evening keeping you at bay, but you still felt hot, sticky, and a bit shaky. Your three other members were continuing to chatter in their excitement but you really had nothing else to say. You knew you did as best as you could hitting every note and chord timely. There was nothing you couldn’t change and you refused to dwell on it, especially when it dawns that you have to go back out and play again soon.

You feel around again for your phone that you had left in room, finding it on the floor charging next to you. You pick it up quickly, realizing you have a new slew of text messages from friends and peers who must be out in the crowd somewhere congratulating you and your band. You make a mental note to answer them later when your mind wasn’t on other things. A new text from Jungkook also catches your eye. You hadn’t texted him back from earlier yet so you tap on his section, reading over it promptly.

[Jungkook 4:13 PM] thank you for this morning. good luck tonight. i’ll see you later. ❤️

[Jungkook 8:18 PM] you were incredible. i’ll come get you before we get ready to go on

You decide to respond by giving him your dressing room number and a quick thank you. The same bundle of nerves begins to stir in your tummy thinking about the new set of chords you need to produce. Jimin and Lisa are packing up their instruments which makes you a little jealous. You wished you could just go out with them and not have to worry about anything else up until they announced the winner of the evening.

“You good Y/N? You haven’t said much?” Jimin comments looking over to you as you curl up on the couch comfortably, scrolling through your phone aimlessly.

“Yeah,” you give him a glance, “Just nervous about the rest of the night.”

He nods promptly, drifting on over to sit beside you. Naturally, you stretch your legs out across his lap, his hands massaging your calves softly. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to block out the sound of the next band playing. You were trying to go through the lists if bands that had yet to go…. Whailen… Femme & Melancholy…. Lithium…. Mayday.

Truthfully the only one you were threatened by was Whailen and Mayday—the latter only being that they were already signed. The irony of feeling threatened by Jungkook and Taehyung’s band when you were about to step foot on stage with them. Knowing both of them for years now, it was the last thing you would have ever thought you would have done.

About an half an hour goes by of sitting with your band reflecting on the past few years together and how much tonight could change all of your lives. You and Lisa are laughing about your first meeting ten years ago and how much you two actually hated each other at first when there is a sudden knock on your door. Everyone gives you a glance and you mutter a quick hold on before you get up, swinging the door open to be met with a soft gaze from a familiar set of eyes.

“Hi,” you greet Jungkook and he gives you a small smile in return. Your hear rate instantly picks up when you make eye contact. He’s stunning as ever.

“Hey,” he says, his eyes glancing back into the room behind you, “You ready?”

Jungkook awkwardly stands at the door as you quickly put your shoes back on in silence. Jimin watches Jungkook carefully from the couch, noticing that Jungkook has yet to take his eyes off you. Jimin never intended to get in the middle of yours and Jungkook’s relationship. What happened between you and him was a one-off occurrence that was a stupid drunken decision. While he was never the biggest fan of Jungkook to begin with—him cheating on you and the pain he caused he—he thought he was helping you overcome him. Now here they are, six months later and you and Jungkook are still as dopey in love as ever; whether you two had admitted it to each other, it wasn’t his business. Jimin truly never has liked you in a romantic way; he admires your talent, your drive, your passions—he just hopes that Jungkook can give you everything you deserve. Frankly Jimin knew you weren’t ever going to let anyone else break down your walls, so he might as well wish you the best.

Jungkook offers to carry your guitar case which you happily let him. Your hands are becoming shaky again thinking about going out to play with a band whom you’ve never been with. Whailen had been together years before Violet could have even been thought about being formed. They were tight and their sound reflected that—you didn’t want it to seem like you were an obvious temporary replacement.

“Do you want us to come watch?” Hobi speaks for the first time since Jungkook came in.

“Please?” You sound like you’re begging at this point but seeing a familiar face out in the crowd wasn’t a want, it was a need right now. Your band wishes you and Jungkook good luck as you leave to begin your trek back down to the main stage.

“Are you nervous?” Jungkook asks as you walk close beside him.

“Mhm,” you mumble, unable to come up with any words. With Jungkook’s free hand, he grabs yours and intertwines your fingers together. He immediately notices how shaky and clammy you are, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

“Are you nervous?” You retort his question, finally finding your voice. His touch was comforting and you found yourself leaning into him more when the view of the side stage finally comes into view. You spot Taehyung, Jin, and Yoongi all standing by, watching as the current band closes out their final song.

“Shitting bricks as we speak,” he says with a laugh. You give him a nudge of your own reassurance before you join him in a laugh.

“There’s our woman of the hour,” Jin greets you first with a smile. Him and Yoongi look relaxed, but that wasn’t a surprise to anyone.

“You guys did great Y/N,” Yoongi compliments and you thank him quickly, your mind elsewhere. The band on stage, Lithium, wraps up their rendition of Fall Out Boy’s Sugar We’re Going Down to loud screams and praise. Lithium was from another city which is why you personally had no heard much about them. They were pretty damn good from the snippet you heard and the leader singer was quite cute.

Lithium quickly exits the stage to where all of you are standing. They’re all sweaty and panting as they pass you by. Speaking of the leader singer, his eyes find yours and he sends you a quick wink and smirk. He yells an explicit to his band in excitement and it takes you a moment to realize Jungkook’s hand is still squeezing yours, his eyes following the lead singer until he’s out of sight.

“Dick,” he mutters and it makes you smile. As territorial as ever.

Not long after they clear the stage, the announcer is introducing Whalien 52 to the crowd.

“And please welcome another band from the heart of this city—Whailen 52!”

Finally Jungkook drops your hand as he prepares himself grabbing his drum sticks. You situate your guitar across you, a sound technician plugging your guitar in for you this time. Once Whailen is situation, you begin to walk across the stage following Taehyung’s lead. Jungkook separates from your side going to the drum kit and you walk to stage left of Taehyung.

The crowd is just as jarring as the first time you walked across the stage. It’s loud, hot, humid with sweat—nearly suffocating. You look out into the crowd briefly, noticing people closer to the front giving you confused looks. You choose to ignore them, glancing back towards Jungkook who has sat at the drums with an unreadable expression. His eyes meet yours briefly before he turns to look at Taehyung; relishing in the cheers from the crowd with a sly smirk across his lips. You feel as if your heart may beat out of your chest, fingers may drop your guitar pick from the shakiness in your fingertips, your throat going dry in all the same breath. You look across the stage to meet Yoongi’s gaze—it’s soft and comforting. As if he can read your emotions, he nods a couple times, giving you some needed reassurance.

“Thank you, thank you,” Taehyung begins to speak, sending a wink over to someone in the crowd, “We’re Whalien 52 and uh, we hope you enjoy our set.”

Jungkook’s drum sticks counts in three, two one—the first song, a cover of Silverchair’s “Ana’s Song.” Similar to Violet’s set, Whalien agreed on a starting off a little slower, wanting to pick up their vibe as the short set continued. Taehyung’s voice complimented Daniel John’s well as he opens the song with a deep emotion you never knew he had until you began practicing with them last week.

Luckily for you, the chords for the song were easy for you, strumming the chords lightly until it required you and Taehyung to strum heavier together as the chorus picked up. As usual, your nerves have greatly decreased as you feel more content in your element. You find that playing lead with no vocals was definitely less nerve wracking than your normal gig. Sure it was weird not playing in your own band, but this was still fun for you. It will always be fun for you—you couldn’t thank your father for introducing you to your passion enough. The thought of him makes you smile and as the song closes, you let out a heavy sigh of relief. Nerves were nearly zero and you felt confident—a dangerous combination.

Taehyung speaks to the crowd for a moment as everyone continues to yell and cheer for the band. You had to admit, this crowd was one of the best you’ve ever played for. They’re enthusiastic about each band, appreciating everyone for what they bring, and silence hadn’t been an option for them. As you glance over the crowd one more time, your eyes land on Jimin, Lisa, and Hobi. They’re standing to your right, far enough where they couldn’t hear you if you tried to speak but close enough where you could make out their faces. Lisa blows you a giant kiss while Jimin and Hobi gives you reassuring smiles. It brings butterflies to your stomach knowing that they are not mad at you. If anything, they seem more than proud and you couldn’t ask to be a leader for anyone else.

The next song, an original song written by Namjoon and Yoongi—Fake Love—begins to play as you strum your guitar to the beautiful chords. As much of an ass Kim Namjoon could be, he was a damn good song and melody writer. Jungkook soon comes in heavy with the drums and the song is shaping to how it’s supposed to sound. Between the lyrics, the way it slows and picks up, it truly is great. Jungkook even brings in some backing vocals which rounds out everything nicely. As you continue to strum, you glance back at him hitting the drums rhythmically and smooth like butter. You knew playing guitar was one talent—playing the drums was completely different. You had to have groove, stamina, strength, a musicality that wasn’t even on your level. While guitar was definitely yours and Jungkook’s niche, he looked just as comfortable behind the drum kit.

Fake Love is over before you realize it and you end up giving Taehyung a smile which he seems to appreciate. As the lead of a band, compliments and reassurance were never enough. The pressure of it all could be crushing. Your father, while not the lead of the band, experienced pressure all too well and you’re sure it’s one of the reasons he did was he did. You weren’t excusing him for leaving you and your mom alone, but you knew maybe if someone had just told him one more time he was great—he would still be here. You’d be damned if anything like that happened again in your lifetime. You knew exactly was Kim Taehyung was feeling right now and despite this not being your own band—you wanted him to feel what you would want to feel—confident and damn good in his abilities.

The last song—which was the song of your choosing—“Do I Wanna Know” by the Arctic Monkey’s, starts with the iconic heavy drum beat, the crowd clapping along as you come in with the guitar chords soon after.

It had been a personal favorite of yours for years and you knew how well Alex Turner’s voice would fit Taehyung’s deep vocal abilities. Whailen was excited about the song choice when you were first practicing and with the crowd response—it was a good choice.

“Crawlin’ back to you, ever thought of callin’ when you’ve had a few… cause I always do,” Taehyung sings the words but the crowd as nearly overtaken him in decibel strength. “Maybe I’m too, busy being yours to fall for somebody new—“

For whatever hell-stricken reason, with these lyrics, you glance back at Jungkook who surprisingly is already looking your way. His gaze catches your breath and you nearly mess up a chord, nearly playing an Am where it should have been an Em. You don’t feel nerves looking at him, but you feel something. A fire deep within your gut, tingles down your spine, lips dry from your mouth being slightly parted. When you had chosen this song for Whailen, you and Jungkook hadn’t fucked and discussed getting back together. You can’t help but feel the irony as Taehyung sings the song with as much burning fire that’s in your and Jungkook’s relationship. You have to look away before you truly fuck up the song.

“Do I wanna know? If this feeling flows both ways… was sorta hopin’ that you’d stay, the nights were made for saying things you can’t say tomorrow day…too busy being yours, ever thought of callin’ darlin’… crawling back to you…”

The song ends to loud and eruptive cheers, each member of Whalien letting out a visible sigh—shoulders falling in relaxation. Yoongi and Jin give each other a big hug from the opposite side of you where you stand. The five of you gather in the middle of the stage to give a final bow to the crowd. You feel like you can finally relax, knowing your night of playing music is finally over.

“Thank you all again! And thank you to Violet’s wonderful lead, Y/N for helping us out with this set!” Taehyung’s last words in the microphone surprise you, but you’re grateful for them.

As all of you exit the stage, you hand your guitar to a sound technician and before you can register anything, you are lifted from the ground, strong arms gripping you tightly. You squeal slightly but the tattooed arm around your front eases you. Jungkook sets you down and you turn around, to give him a proper hug. Both of you are sweaty but you couldn’t care less considering what you two got into this morning.

“Thank you thank you thank you,” Jungkook rambles into your ear as he picks you up again for a moment. When sets you down, your hands hold the sides of his face gently and you give him a smile, “Your dad would be so proud of you.”

In words make your heart swell. His words from this morning play over and over in your head. “Let’s just stop this and do it for real.”

Both of you stare for what feels like an eternity, the noise of everything around you drowning out, making it seem as if it’s just the two of you. You know exactly what your answer is and you’re about to give him that by leaning in, touching his nose to yours. Unfortunately, he breaks away first, giving you a small smile before he turns to Taehyung, giving him the biggest brotherly hug you’ve ever seen. You look down in disappointment but you also understand now isn’t the time or place.

You end up hugging Yoongi, with him uttering a million thanks into your ear as well.

“You’re seriously the best Y/N—a fucking rockstar,” he beams his gummy smile at you, “Goddamn I can’t believe we did that.”

“Y/N—“

Your name falls out of Namjoon’s mouth, who has appeared from wherever he watched the set. You give him a small smile, the wall that you build around yourself every time he walks in your vicinity naturally coming up.

“Hey,” you greet him.

“I just wanna say I can’t thank you enough for doing this,” he pauses scratching the back of his beanie covered head, “I know I’ve been a dick to you and I honestly just didn’t want to admit how bad I fucked up and I didn’t want to admit how talented you actually are.”

“Oh,” you’re shocked by his words, the wall coming down slowly.

“I thought you were just handed everything but I hadn’t stepped back and thought about what you’ve actually been going through and I know I’m rambling, but fuck just thank you so much.. Even if we don’t win, we couldn’t have done this without you.”

A feeling of warmth radiates through your veins and you being you, you pull Kim Namjoon of all people in for a hug. Though it’s short, he gladly returns it with a squeeze around your frame. Jungkook was right. No matter what happens—your dad would be proud of you and you knew you had made the right decision.

After about twenty minutes back in the waiting rooms backstage, you follow Whalien out into the crowd to find your bandmates. Lisa is the first to greet you with a big hug. Violet and Whailen stand together in harmony; Taehyung talking to Hobi, Lisa chatting with Yoongi, even Jimin and Jungkook exchanging nice words with each other. You realize that you and Jungkook had barely talked since the set ended and you can’t help but notice the hardened look on his face as he watches the last band performing—Mayday, close out their set. Mingyu and his band are damn good and you can only hope that their former accolades aren’t enough to overshadow Violet, or Whailen for that matter.

You make your way over to Jungkook through the tight squeeze of the crowd, nudging him slightly when you approach his right side. He glances down at your frame before pulling you close by throwing an arm around your shoulder. Again, it’s like the world stops and just you two as you look up at him. You had changed into some white sneakers when you had went backstage, returning to your normal height against his frame.

Before his eyes turn back to the stage, he presses his lips against your temple.

“How’re you feeling?” You ask him close to his ear so he can hear properly.

He shrugs, “Nervous,” is all he says. It’s enough for you to nod in understanding. When Jungkook went quiet, it wasn’t personal and it was just something you had to deal with. You felt nervous too, knowing that your entire future could change within the next 20 minutes.

The two of you hold onto each other’s side as Mayday leaves the stage once they're finally finished. The lights change on the stage, the crowd gets even louder, and you can sense your chest tensing up. It’s not until when the host of the competition, along with a few executives from Geffen Records step out onto the stage. A younger man holds an envelope, whilst an older man grabs the microphone from the host after some introductions.

“Thank you all for coming,” the older man, a senior international executive at the record company speaks with confidence. “We have been spoiled tonight with so many amazing performances from some amazing bands. With a record deal, one band will change forever after tonight but if there’s anything I’ve learned in my career of 30 years in the music industry—don’t give up on your dreams. If you want it to happen—make your shit happen.”

Someone—Lisa intertwines her hand with your right hand, Jungkook holding onto your left hand. Jimin and Hobi are tense; Taehyung is looking at the ground with his eyes closed; Namjoon and Jin look antsy; Yoongi looks stoic as he stares at the stage with slightly parted lips, squinting to focus his vision.

You try to force a smile to calm yourself, to tell yourself everything is fine—you got this. Violet was damn good. It had to work out—there was no other options. Your chest swells and your hands are clammy, but you know you deserve this more than anyone else here. You had built your whole life around this moment, the chance to make music until the day you die, the chance to become the next star, to carry on your father’s legacy—it would have to work out.

As the younger executive hands over the envelope and the whole crowd yells in anticipation.

“And the winner is—!”

It seems as if the world stops. Your chest falls, smile fading into the background of all the noise. You feel a lump form in your throat, nausea rushing to your stomach. Your knees nearly cave in, weak from the reality that’s hit you.

“—Mayday!”

_____

Back in the dressing room it’s silent. The band is packing everything up in defeat. You parted from Jungkook and Whailen for them to do the same. You no longer felt sick to your stomach. Only sadness and a little bit of anger. You kept thinking about what you could have done differently—played this song instead of that one, worn your usual dresses and sneakers, done this, done that. It was no use. Violet had lost. Whailen had lost. And you were back to square one.

Noticing your demeanor, Jimin wraps his arms around you protectively. You return his hug, feeling exhausted and weak. The only thing you wanted to do was go home and cry yourself to sleep. No tears had sprung yet, but you knew once you were alone, they would be ever flowing until the morning.

“I’m sorry guys,” you finally speak into Jimin’s chest. He looks down at you with concern.

“For what?” He asks; Hobi and Lisa turning to the two of you.

“I failed you guys,” you shake your head, pushing away from him to stay at an arms length.

“Oh my god, absolutely not,” Lisa consoles, swatting her hands aimlessly. She pulls you into a tight hug, Hobi and Jimin following suit where the four of you were holding on only to each other.

“Y/N you’re the best fucking leader we could ask for,” Hobi says, “Just because we didn’t win this stupid competition doesn’t mean our lives are over.”

“Yes it does,” you whine and you can only make out Jimin’s giggling.

“No it doesn’t,” he says, “Because we’re going to make shit happen.”

This ends up breaking you into a smile, glancing between your members. They’re not even bandmates at this point—they’re your family.

“Fuck, I love you guys,” you say. The four of you continue your group embrace and perhaps Jimin is right. You’re Violet—you’re Krist Vedder’s daughter—and most importantly, you’re you. You make shit happen.

It’s a little after midnight when you and your bandmates leave the venue. You’ve changed into a comfortable sweatsuit and large jacket to accommodate for the chilly weather. You didn’t realize how cold it actually was being on stage with the adrenaline and lights.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go with us?” Hobi was begging you to join them for a drink but with the depressive state your mind is in, you know that would end terribly for you.

“I’m good guys, I promise. I honestly just want to go home and sleep,” you say again. “When are you going to be home?” You ask Lisa.

Her hair pulled into a high ponytail, she smirks, “I’m meeting up with Baekhyun, so I might not be back until tomorrow.”

“You’ve been staying with him a lot,” Jimin says warningly with a raised brow. Lisa’s face scrunches up, turning slightly pink.

“Oh shit, my Uber’s here! I’ll see y’all later!” She runs off down the street to an SUV pulling up to the curb. The three of you wave her off ensuring she gets into the car safely.

“How are you getting home?”

“I may just walk,” you say with a shrug to your shoulders. Was it cold and a little too late for you to be walking by yourself? Yes. But your mind was racing at a million thoughts. You needed to calm yourself before the wave of emotions finally hit you.

“Y/N,” Jimin furrows his eyebrows.

“What? I just need some time to think,” you tell him honestly. “You know my place isn’t far from here anyways.”

“We know, it’s just—“

“Y/N?”

A third male voice says your name from behind the three of you. You immediately know who it is before you even turn around. Jimin and Hobi’s eyes meet Jungkook’s before yours do. As you turn around, Jungkook approaches the three of you, hands shoved into his black jacket, his hair shoved underneath a black cap.

“Hi,” you greet him with a small smile, an inner warmth radiating at the sight of him. Suddenly, all your worrisome thoughts seemed to wane, now only focusing on the man in front of you.

“Hey guys,” he nods to your two bandmates, his soft gaze then falling to you. He looks much more relaxed and poised than the last time you spoke. Neither one of you said anything to each other when Mayday was announced at the winner, parting backstage in silence.

“What are you still doing here?” You ask noticing that he’s all by himself.

“I was uh, waiting for you,” he clears his throat awkwardly and your heart lurches at the thought, but stiffens thinking about him waiting out in the cold for so long just for you.

You glance at your bandmates, who are looking between you and Jungkook curiously. Hobi and Jimin aren’t stupid—they can sense an unspoken tension between you two and they decide it’s best to leave you two be.

“Get her home safe man,” Jimin nudges Jungkook’s arm with his elbow, before giving you a small smile, “See ya later Y/N.”

You wave them off and it’s soon just you and Jungkook outside the venue pretty much all alone. You turn back to him, looking up at his frame.

“You okay?” You ask him, wrapping your arms around your frame as a chill goes down your body. A soft smile spreads across his face before he’s grabbing your hand, pulling you in the opposite direction of your apartment.

_____

Jungkook drags you to a convenience store where the two of you currently sit on a sidewalk, sharing a cup of piping hot ramen and cuddled up to each others side to keep warm. He slurps the noodles quietly and you can tell there’s something he’s not saying. You don’t know whether to push him or leave it be. At the moment, you decide on the latter.

“We used to do this all the time,” you say, bringing up memories of the first few months of yours and Jungkook’s relationship. The two of you managed to find yourself at convenience stores, eating junk or buying alcohol after long nights of band practice or gigs. 18 seemed so long ago and you two seem like such different people now. Honestly though—it’s a good thing. Growing up can be hell, but you and Jungkook are proof that you have to grow the fuck up to get to a healthy place.

Jungkook smiles with a chuckle, “I know, I think I used to eat my body weight in ramen as a teenager,” he pauses looking at the last bit of noodles and broth. He looks at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes that you love so much and you nod with a small laugh. He grins before eating the last of the food. He sets down the cup before letting out a deep sigh of relief.

You lean into his left side, one of his hands resting on your leg to pull you closer to him. It’s comfortable and it feels like home.

“You’ve been so quiet since the competition,” you mumble, opting to push him a little.

He sighs deeply, gaze still forward, “I guess I’m still processing everything,” he says with disappointment in his tone. You nod into his shoulder. You understand completely. You felt like you had built a glass house that had been shattered by a giant rock.

“I’m sorry,” is what you offer, looking up to his side profile. He glances over at you, his eyebrow piercing catching the street light for a moment.

“I’m sorry too,” he says, dropping his head slightly, “Though there wasn’t much we could do about it.”

His tone implies something—you don’t know what—but something. Almost accusatory. Furrowing your brows, you ask what he means.

He lets out a sarcastic laugh in response, “The competition was fucking rigged.”

You grip loosens on his arm some, your face draining any color left, mouth going dry. You nearly push back and say that’s ridiculous, but you stop yourself. As you had been working on with your therapist, you hold your tongue instead of jumping to conclusions. Why would Jungkook lie about that? What does he have to gain by saying that without any reason to back it up?

“Where did you hear that from?”

He rolls his tongue across his teeth; a habit he’s had for as long as you’ve known him. “Mingyu himself,” he laughs in disbelief, “Told me after I went to congratulate him.”

“That… sucks,” you don’t even know what to say. You felt numb; unsure of how exactly to feel. More sadness? Anger? Disappointment? Resentment?

“Apparently Geffen had eyes on Mayday for the past few months, but their small label wouldn’t sell Geffen any of their original masters unless they agreed to ensure Mayday won the battle of the bands,” Jungkook continues with details that you didn’t ask for, but you were appreciative for the information. It makes logical sense. Your dad had always educated you about expenses within the music industry and owning an artists masters was the most sought after position to have. Michael Jackson didn’t even own his own music.

“Well fuck,” you mutter, now able to pinpoint the one emotion rising in your body. “Is it weird that I feel somewhat relieved?”

Jungkook looks at you with a confused expression, “Uh—yes?”

“Think about it Guk,” you sit up a little bit to face him, “Would you want to be signed to label who can be bought off that easily? Over a battle of the bands competition with underground punk bands?”

Jungkook licks his lips with a small smile, “Well when you put it like that,” he can’t help but laugh at you some. His heart swells when he finally looks into your eyes—really looks into your eyes—since you’ve made the journey to the damn convenience store.

You find yourself unable to look away from him. He was your everything for so long and you’ve figured out with some time and space he still is your everything. No one will ever replace him. No one will ever make you feel the way he does. And you needed him to know that. You lean in, his lips meeting yours halfway. It’s as if you’re transported to the first night you met—sparks buzzing inside you as you move your lips against his. He cups the left side of your face gently and you hold the back of his head, scratching the base of his neck the way he likes.

“Jungkook,” you pull away, leaving little to no room between him and you, “I’ve thought about what you said this morning and you’re right,” you pause glancing down at your lap briefly to catch your breath. You’ve never felt this vulnerable with him but he had perhaps been the most open he’s ever been with you this morning. It’s your turn.

“I’ve thought about you everyday for nearly four goddamn years and I—I don’t want to stop. You were my best friend for so long and you still are my best friend. I want you in my life no matter what but I do want to be with you—I want to try again with you. Learn from our stupid, immature mistakes and find the best path for us,” you think he’s about to interrupt you but you shake your head quickly, “I started going to therapy and uh, it’s really helped me figure out why I’ve been acting the way I am and why I treated you so poorly. I’m still navigating through everything but I love you so much Jeon Jungkook and I don’t want it any other way.”

Jungkook stares at you blankly for a few moments, processing each word you’ve said. Without saying anything he embraces you in a tight hug, feeling a happiness he hasn’t felt in a long time. Not only does he feel happy; he feels calm; he feels excited, dopey, and in love. He couldn’t give a shit about the band competition. He has you. That’s what he needs.

“I love you so much Y/N,” he says into your hair, “I’ve been going to therapy too,” he pauses and you smile into his warm embrace. “I’ve made stupid, horrible mistakes, and I’ve hurt you so much and I’m working my shit out too but I hope that you’re willing to grow and grow old with me.”

He gets all the answer he needs when you kiss him silly again. “You’re not asking you to marry you, are you?” You pull away with a pointed look.

He laughs pecking your lips again, pulling you to sit on top of his lap, “Not yet babe, we gotta make it big first so I can buy you the big ass rock you deserve.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes, “You could propose with a ring pop and I would love it.”

Jungkook raises his pierced brow at you before an idea pops into his head. He kisses your forehead before he mumbles to stay put. He runs back into the (thankfully) 24/7 convenience store and you can’t help but grin, already knowing what he’s going to come back with.

As Jungkook opens up the candy wrapper, slipping the clunky piece of candy on your left ring finger, you feel yourself beginning to cry. This is what almost brings tears to your eyes—not losing the band competition—this—because this is what really matters.

“This is very punk,” Jungkook smiles, admiring the blue ring of candy before kissing your lips chastely. You manage to get rid of the tears springing in your eyes by batting your lashes quickly.

“Very Kurt and Courtney,” you add with a small smile. Both of you exchange one more I love you before he leans in again and you find yourself having the best kiss you’ve ever had with your one and only, on the frigid sidewalk in front of a nasty convenience store.

With one last smile against your lips, he says, “Baby they have nothin’ on us.”

Record deals come and go. Real love doesn’t come and go. Once you find it you have to be careful with it; you may never find it again.

399 notes · View notes

tipsydipsydo · 4 years ago

Text

➳ the shower

➳ "keep teasing, I'll bend you over right here!"

➳ "it'd be better if they watched"

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Gender of the Reader: male

Word Count: ~1k

Rating: 18+

Genre: Smut/PwP

Warnings: Dirty Language + Dirty Talk; Petnames; verbal Degradation; Mentions of Daddy! Kink; Dom-Sub-Dynamic (Top! & Dom! Reader x Bottom! & Sub! Jungkook) ; anal Fingering; Mentions of Exhibitionism-Kink; Teasing; Anal Sex; Mentions of unprotected Sex; In conclusion: Jungkook is a vocal brat

A/N: I know, I know... Pride Month is almost a month over but I had a writersblock lately and this shit kept me away from writing... so I'll try now to post some more bts x male reader stories! ♡ I hope you like my newest work ;)

Status: Un-edited

[Links]:

BTS Smut Drabbles

My Writings | My Blog Navigation

「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

You should have known that Jungkook only offered you the option of showering together to simply tease the shit out of you. He said, it would save sooo much more warm water for his other roomates up and that Seokjin would yell at him when they run out of warm water again.

You were indeed way too naïve and trustful. The thought alone that Jungkook could get possibly in trouble because of him, his boyfriend, who neither live here nor pay for anything decided already for him. You're simply a guest who sleep over from time to time and your mom made sure that you'll grow into a man with good manners. So after Jungkook explained the urgency why you should shower together, you don't have any kind of reason why you shouldn't.

Well, you definitely should know Jungkook already well enough to realize, that your boyfriend like to use some white lies here and there to get what he wants. It's still hard to believe for you how the previous Jungkook, who was so terribly shy and nervous as you started dating each other, turned out to be so mishief and sassy. As someone, who could barely exchange some small talk without any stuttering at first, he has now a more than bold tongue and loves to be a brat that tests the limits of your acceptance. Little did you know that he is a masochist who needs to get put back into 'his place', eventhough he won't admit it openly. At least until now.

A cheeky pinch into your left buttcheek got you out of your thoughts and a boyishly giggle comes from behind you. You agreed to wash each others back and of course Jungkook couldn't let the perfect opportunity of grabbing your ass pass by.

"I like your ass, Daddy~ I love to see the how your muscles twitch when I am pinching you and how you gasp in surprise and disbelief, hehe.", chuckles Jungkook and you can literally hear the bright bunny smile out of his voice. It's pretty common for him, he has on his face whenever he teases or annoys you on purpose.

While his endearing smile makes your heart melt and let Jungkook getting away with his teasing way too often, the title he just called you does something to you and Jungkook knows that. Of course he do.

Your nose flare as you take a deep breath and the annoyed eye-roll had given way for a hungry and almost predatory-like expression. Slowly you turn around to Jungkook, who's eyes grows big the moment he sees your facial expression. A harsh gulp follows as you close the space between you two and cages him with your arms, sandwiching him between your own body and the cold tiles. The steady bobs of his adams-apple make it look so incredibly seductive. Some deep purple hickeys all over his neck would suit Jungkook very well.

"Hm, Babyboy? What was that? Would you mind to explain your bratty behavior to me? Keep teasing, I'll bend you over right here. Seems like you wouldn't mind to play around with Daddy for a little bit. Well, if we're already standing here in the shower together, then we need to make the waste of water to be worth it, right?", you wisper in a raspy voice into his slightly blushing ear.

A dark, satiesfied chuckle flees over your lips as you see how his bold and bratty personality starts slowly to crumble down and how your own teasing and promising words put him into his submissive mindset. Jungkook may be a tease but with the right words and gaze you can turn him easily back into a good, well behaving sub.

"What about a quick shower fuck? Isn't that what you wanted, Kookie?"

Your boyfriend exhales shakingly, didn't even recognized that he hold his breath the last few seconds. He nibbles at his lower lip with his cute bunny theeth before he gives you his confirmation.

"Y-Yes please, Daddy. Fuck me, I need you to drill your big dick inside of me, please split my asshole open with your girthy cock-", he whines weakly. Yes, that's what you like to hear. Suddenly he is such a good boy again, it's truly fascinating.

"Turn around, Baby. Spread your legs and pull your cute, little ass cheeks apart for me."

It only takes you a short moment to reach through the small slit of the opened glass door to grab into the drawer of the nearby standing bathroom drawer and pull a bottle of lube out.

It isn't the first time you have some fun in the shower.

The sight Jungkook is giving you let a deep grunt of appreciation escape your throat and leave your hard cock salivating in precum. God, he looks way too hot in this position. Literally awaiting for your cock to get fucked mercilessly.

To be honest... Jungkook is such a slut for assplay. The way already two of your fingers slip into his soft, stretched hole without any resistance. Just a few minutes later your third finger joins in without any problems. He must playing with himself a lot when you aren't around...

Just tiny whimpers and little pants left his mouth while you fingered him but now... now, where you lined your red and angry leaking cock up to his, in exitement clenching hole and slowly filling him up... whiny and highpitched moans filling the humid air in the bathroom.

Jungkook's right cheek is pressed against the tiles, eyes rolling back into his skull whenever you pulled out almost completely just to drill your cock balls deep back into him. To hear how the skin of your hips meets his bubble butt and create such obscene slapping noises clouds Jungkook's mind. He tries desperately to lift his trembling hand to his mouth to muffle his greedy moans, he would be mortified if his roommates call him out about being way too vocal once again.

Unfortunately his intention doesn't fit the plans you have for him. He teased you on purpose, very well aware that all of his roommates are at home today. He is the one who loves the thrill of getting caught doing something nasty. He is the one who jerked you off at the movie theater. So you don't have the need to cover up what you're doing.

You let Jungkook's hips go for a minute, just to grab both of his wrists and move his arms behind his back, holding them in place with one hand while the other one moves back to it's previous place at his hip.

"It'd be better if they watched. Just imagine how the bathroom door would open and they would stand there, watching us. Then they'd see how well I am fucking and wrecking this little ass of yours. What a good little fucktoy you are, taking my fat cock so well in your tiny asshole. Just think about how our nasty, shameless act turn them on to that point where they couldn't control themself anymore and start to jerk off to us. You would like that, yeah? I know what a dirty little boy you are. So let them hear what a greedy, filthy fuckdoll you are. Come, don't be shy. Be louder. Even more louder, Baby..."

829 notes · View notes

venusiangguk · 4 years ago

Text

gold rush pt. 2 | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader

>>genre: pwp, v little plot, smut, kinda fluffy, college au (kinda), established relationship

>>word count: 8.9k

>>warnings: romantic ass eating 😐, oral (m), fingering (m/f), butt stuff but it’s SEXY, explicit sex, crying, jungkook likes to be praised, soft koo, dom reader... but like soft, spitting in mouth, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, this is so soft, that good smut, literally like 7.5k of filth

>>notes: hot girls eat ass!! oc is a hot girl!! this involves butt stuff (just mouth and fingers, no pegging 😔), so if that isn’t ur cup of tea just read pt 1 again lol, i separated it this way in case there were people who weren’t down to go down... iykyk. but with that said, i encourage u to open ur eyes and ur mind and give this a chance 🤩

>>summary: jk finally lets you eat his ass 😁👍🏻

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

It’s day 6 of trying to get Jeongguk to let you eat his ass. It’s getting hard to function, and the sun doesn’t shine as bright as it used to. The week has been a rough one, filled with clenched butt cheeks, and fewer blow jobs than normal. You just can’t seem to stop yourself from wandering south when you’re down there, so you’ve lost the privilege. Constantly met with Jeongguk’s laughter filled eyes when he pulls you up to where you’re supposed to be, and a “You should not want to eat my ass this bad.”

He just doesn’t understand.

Currently you’re sat in the cafeteria with your friends, your eyes consistently roaming to a table across the large room. He’s laughing at something and his hands are clapping in front of him as he throws his head back. You rest your head on your arms, pouting, and you breathe a deep and miserable sigh.

“Alright y/n what the fuck?” Your friend Yuna says, flicking your cheeks.

Her speaking up causes a few of your other girlfriends at the table to direct their attention towards you. “Yeah, you’ve been like... pouty for the last few days. What’s going on?” Cho questions as well.

You debate keeping the silly internal struggle to yourself before giving in and stating plainly, “Gguk won’t let me eat his ass.” You blow absently at a piece of hair that falls into your face, eyes crossing as you look at it. Next to you, Jiwoo chokes on the zero cal drink that she’s been sipping.

Yuna stares at you blankly for a moment before recovering. “That’s... well that’s a predicament.” She hums in thought. “Does he actually not want to or is he just being shy and stubborn?”

“Second one.” You say. You’ve known your boyfriend for years and you’ve definitely learned how to tell when he’s being serious and when he’s just being stubborn. If you really thought he wasn’t about it you would have dropped it. But you know Jeongguk’s just being difficult because he thinks it’s funny to make you pine, and actually has at least some curiosity about the act. He just won’t admit it.

“Minjun was the same way,” Cho nods in solidarity. “But he likes it now.”

“How’d you get him to change his mind?” You ask perking up. A beacon of hope.

“We watched porn of it together.”

“That’s how I discovered it!” You gasp.

You pull your phone out to text your boyfriend.

you:

minjun let’s cho eat his ass 🥺

You watch Jeongguk from across the room and see the moment he receives the text. He searches the lunch room before his eyes land on yours and he let’s out an incredulous harsh laugh, before shaking his head slightly to himself. You glance at your phone and see the text bubble appear in your messages.

koo 🥴:

maybe he’ll let you eat it too 🥺

You gape at your phone and look at your boyfriend only to see him talking to his friends again. He gives you a side glance and you see his smile grow bigger as he tries to ignore you.

~~~

Jeongguk’s sitting at his lunch table picking at the food in front of him listening as Jimin rambles about the not-so-great grade he got on his latest science test. “Why the fuck do I need to know that the sun will make it too hot for life to exist on earth in a couple billion years? Not only will I be dead, but that is just anxiety inducing.”

His phone that’s vibrating on the table catches his attention, a picture message from you on the home screen. He gets a little excited at the sheer potential that a picture message has and opens it eagerly. Sure the chances of getting a titty pic when it’s mid-day and you’re both in the middle of a lunch cafeteria are small... but they are never zero.

When he opens the message and sees the picture, he laughs loudly before clapping his hand over his mouth to quiet himself.

baby 🥺💘😏🧠🙄👊🏻:

He’s about to respond when Taehyung says, “Alright, you can’t keep laughing at your phone and not tell us what’s so funny.”

Jeongguk looks at the couple in front of him a trace of a smile still lingers on his lips. He shows them what you sent. “Y/n wants to eat my ass so bad.” He laughs to himself, going back to his phone.

“Are you not letting her?” Jimin asks.

Jeongguk sets his phone to the side before he gets to respond. It’s clear his friends are ready to have a conversation about it. “I don’t think so.”

Jimin and Taehyung look at each other and smirk. “Why not? It feels really good.”

He looks between them silently before asking, “You’ve done it?” He receives two nods.

“This one’s a real ass-muncher.” Taehyung says jerking a thumb at his boyfriend. Jimin swats at him.

“He says like that like its a bad thing and like he doesn’t cum from just my mouth and my fingers.” Jimin rolls his eyes.

Jeongguk tenses and turns a little red. A little tremor of heat coursing through his body at the thought of feeling so good that he could cum without even having a hand around himself. “Just from that? No dick touching? Is that even possible?”

“Oh to be straight and oblivious to the wonders of butt stuff.” Jimin pouts at him like he feels bad for him.

Taehyung on the other hand is a bit more helpful. He pops a fry in his mouth and talks with his mouth full, “It’s possible. We have like a button in our ass that’s like... magic. You know what a prostate is right?”

Jeongguk scoffs. “Obviously.”

“Okay well let her put her fingers and tongue in your ass then, if you know so much about it. Have you eaten hers?”

“Yeah I’ve had my tongue in every crevice of that girls body.” He’s nodding and smiling like he’s proud. He glances at you, and he sees you huddled next to your friend, looking closely at something on her phone, your long hair falling like a curtain over your shoulder, some pooling on the table. You look so pretty. You feel his stare, and look at him. Your smile is soft, and your lips pucker in a little kiss. Chuu.

“Right,” Jimin says bringing Jeongguk back to the topic at hand, “Well if she let you, and you’re open to it you should let her... like it will actually feel better for you than it probably did for her.” Jeongguk looks like he’s about to defend his honor and sex skills, before Jimin cuts him off, “Not saying you didn’t do it right or whatever. It’s just that guys are like programmed to like it... like biologically or- something.”

“Or something.” Jeongguk repeats.

“Why don’t you want to in the first place? Is it because you think it’s gay?” Taehyung asks laughing, knowing that that’s not why.

Jeongguk gives him a bored deadpanned stare. “No. Maybe it’s because I shit out of my ass and don’t want her mouth near it? She’s perfect, she doesn’t deserve that.”

Jimin cackles. “Well it’s not like you just let her go for it! You have to prepare.”

Jeongguk sits and listens as his friends give him nothing less than a full comprehensive lecture on the logistics of ass eating and ass getting ate. Ass 101. He’s still unsure but hearing from guys who have actually done it and enjoyed it makes him feel a bit more open and curious. It has him pulling out his phone and tentatively typing out a text to you, finally replying to the picture you sent.

me:

i’m thinking about it

He watches you, waiting for the text to get to you. He smiles when he sees you get excited at seeing his name on your home screen, something warm blossoming in his chest. He struggles to keep his face straight when he sees your head whip up, looking at him wide-eyed like you can’t believe what he just texted you. His fingers wiggle in a small wave, and the biggest smile slowly crawls across your face. He receives one last message before lunch ends.

baby 🥺💘😏🧠🙄👊🏻:

say less, sir 🤤

~~~

Jeongguk lays on his back patiently, looking down at you below him while you take your time planting soft kisses all the way down his body. He was in a quite docile mood considering all the pestering you’ve put him through the past few days. And despite what you both knew you had planned for him. Something he claimed to be nervous about, but you supposed one could be nervous and excited and pliant all at once.

When you take one of his nipples into your mouth he lets out a soft “oh...” his hands flying up like he wants to wrap them in your hair, hold you there till he’s pleased, but he catches himself when his arms are halfway raised. He brings them back down by his sides, fists the sheets like he’s holding himself back, like he wants to be good for you. As you lick and suck on the paired nipple, feeling it pebble in your mouth, you watch Jeongguk’s mouth fall open silently while his eyebrows furrow and a wrinkle of pleasure forms between them. His cock is steadily going from warm and plump to hot and hard and leaking, you can feel it twitch against your lower belly.

He opens his eyes to watch you and you can see his pupils are blown and you smile up at him, a tiny bud still pulled between your teeth and Jeongguk whines. A high pitch needy, breathy noise falls from his lips before he pulls his bottom one between his teeth. His head turns to the side, baring his neck in subconscious submission, and God. He doesn’t get like this often but when he does? He is the prettiest sight.

Heat pools in your belly and your panties are already sticking to your bottom half. You hum before moving your ministrations to his torso, soft wet open mouth kisses being placed any and everywhere, prolonged ones on each of his abs. He works so hard for his body, his physique. It’s something he does for himself, but you feel lucky that you get to see him like this in all of his glory.

“Thank you.” You say as you place a kiss on the tattoo he has on his hip bone.

He hums, “For what?”

“For letting me see you like this,” You finally wrap a hand around his cock. You bite your lip when you feel it jump in your palm, “For letting me explore today. You’re so sexy, and so lovely, and so perfect. You work so hard, baby.” Kisses, so many kisses planted over his groin area, but never where he wants it most.

He huffs and you can see a flush from embarrassment darken the already present flush of arousal, due to the praise and mention of exploring. He squirms in your hold, not wanting to talk, probably wishing you would just get on with it already. Surely you can feel him throbbing in your hand, right?

Finally, you bring your lips to his frenulum and place the softest kitten lick to it and Jeongguk positively keens in your hold. You stroke his cock, squeezing on the upstroke to watch a bead of precum well at the top. It glistens, shiny and clear, at the pink head. You wrap your lips around the tip fully, lapping and swirling your tongue over it, humming at the heady, slightly bitter taste on your tongue. It’s not particularly pleasant per se but it’s sexy. The fact you get him so worked up that his cock can’t help but leak, so worked up that he can’t help the soft little whines that fall from his lips; the fact that he gets so turned on and hard and wet just from a few of your kisses and licks makes you moan with his cock in your mouth, thighs squeezing together for some type of pressure and relief.

You pop off with a harsh suck. “I can’t wait to taste you.” You groan, licking a broad stripe up his cock with the flat of your tongue.

He grumbles quietly shifting, sort of like he’s antsy and frustrated. He knows what you mean and he knows you don’t mean his cock that you just had in your mouth.

“What was that?” You ask through a smile, nipping at his hip with your teeth.

“Can you stop talking about it and just suck my dick so I can forget you’re even gonna do that?” He rolls his eyes and pouts down at you with a tiny scowl on his face.

“Oh baby,” You laugh, not patronizingly, but there is a little bit of a teasing lilt to your voice, “Are you still embarrassed?”

He doesn’t answer, just scowls harder if that was even possible.

You move away from his cock, and up his body. His eyes reflect panic and his hands finally move from the sheets to press on your shoulders, trying to keep you in place. “No, stay,” he whines.

You laugh again pushing against his hold before finally settling half on his chest. You rest a leg over his thigh, keeping your body close and pressed to his. You look into his big brown doe eyes that are slightly glassy from all the teasing. You can see some apprehension and nervousness swimming in them as you place a hand on his cheek, stroking softly. He closes his eyes and nuzzles into your palm before his hand comes up to hold your wrist, to just touch some more. His other hand runs up and down your body that’s resting half on top of him, tickling slightly like your the one that needs attention. He kisses your hand that’s on his cheek softly before looking at you again.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” You say quietly, thumb brushing over his cheek bone.

His eyes fall closed again and you can see his brow furrow once more, though this time it isn’t out of pleasure it’s because he’s thinking. Despite all the playful teasing and pestering and banter, you’ve always made sure to check that he was actually okay with you going down there. And, yeah, he was nervous but after talking about it seriously and doing some research together he always said he was fine with it. But you know things can change in the moment and you just want to double check, make sure that he still feels that way.

You hum in question gently, prompting a response.

He huffs, tightening his grip on your wrist, a nervous gesture. His eyes are still closed when he quietly says, “No I just... I- I’m not like backing out...”

“You can though.” You interrupt.

His eyes open quickly, and he shakes his head. “No, no I want to I just...” His voice starts off strong but tappers into a softer tone. “I want to I just feel a bit like... weird.”

Your brow furrows this time. “Why, baby?”

“I feel like I shouldn’t want you to.” He doesn’t meet your eyes and you can feel his cheek heat up in your palm.

Ahhhh, you think. Although you talked and teased about the topic, you realize that while Jeongguk agreed (whilst impishly feigning a faux diswant on principle) you never realized that the lighthearted “You shouldn’t want to eat my ass this bad” remarks may have stemmed from something serious, and weren’t just playful protests.

“Why do you feel that way?” You press gently.

His eyes flicker to you and then to your mouth, then back to something (nothing) off to the side. He has a small not-so-amused smile on his lips when he says, “It’s kinda taboo isn’t it?”

You can’t help but giggle at the word he used. Taboo. Out of all the things you guys have done, this is what he chooses to get shy about. Sweet boy.

“Not any more tabooo than you wanting to eat my ass, or fuck my ass.” You hum at him, stretching out the word in a teasing manner, making him look at you. You smile at him before continuing, “Or you like slapping me, or me gagging you with my panties, or-“

“Okay okay! I get it.” He laughs and places a kiss to your lips to get them to stop moving.

You beam, glad to see he’s a bit more relaxed. The boner however, is definitely gone, but that can be fixed.

“I’m not trying to convince you though.” You emphasize, “I only want to if you want to.”

He nods, softly smiling at you. “I want to.”

A salacious grin takes over your face and you sigh softly into his ear before whispering, “Perfect... I’m going to make you feel so good baby, make you feel so good with my tongue. Get you all whiny and red and sweaty. Maybe your legs will start to shake from how good it feels? Do you want that, Jeongguk?” You nip at his ear lobe as you feel a slight tremor run through his body. Your hips subtly roll against the side of his body, seeking any friction at this point. You feel him nod. “Maybe if you like my mouth enough we can use fingers when you’re ready baby.” You hear him suck in a sharp breath and slowly let it out on a shaky exhale. You grin and place a kiss to his temple before continuing. “Get them inside of you to find that spot that will really set you off. The spot that will make you cum for me. Wouldn’t that feel so good baby?”

He nods again and you can feel the hand that has been running up and down your back throughout the conversation grip at your ass roughly.

“Say it baby, I wanna hear you.”

He whines and struggles against the hand on his face that is now gripping his jaw, still putting up a little bit of a fight about wanting something he considers “taboo”. But he gives in easily enough when he realizes you won’t continue until you get more confirmation that he genuinely wants this, and is excited to have it.

“It’s gonna feel so good y/n. God, you’re gonna make me feel so good.” He’s shy when he says it, but he’s almost panting as well. At last, he’s giving in and admitting to himself that this is something that will feel good and is okay to want.

He grips your face and kisses you. It starts slow and tentative but quickly manifests into a kiss that is deep and hard, one that is full of lust and neediness. He bites at your lip needing to release some of the pent up frustration but at your whine of pain he licks over it apologetically, placing softer kisses instead for a moment before he rests his forehead against yours, both your breathing is ragged for a minute until he speaks up.

“Please y/n. I’m so hard.” He pleads in a soft whisper.

You take a second and look down between your bodies and sure enough, his cock has returned to full hardness, and your mouth waters seeing even more precum welling at the tip than before.

“I’m gonna suck it.”

“Please do.” Jeongguk laughs as you move down his body, but the laugh goes high pitched and breathy when you take him down your throat immediately.

“Fuck...” he sighs, his head falling back and eyes fluttering.

You pull off and close your eyes, relishing in the fact that you can make him feel like this. Grinning against his cock you place a kitten kiss to the shaft. “Good baby?”

He nods his head. “Yes yes, please keep going.”

You hum against the head causing Jeongguk to exhale sharply, hips twitching due to the vibrations. He’s so sensitive and you crave the reactions you pull from him. Whether they’re the soft noises and the small twitches or the loud moans and jerking muscles, they are all equally loved and desired.

Quickly you pull off and reach up placing your hand under his mouth, before he can protest at you pausing again. Maybe you’re being a little mean, but he sounds so pretty when he’s desperate and you just can’t help yourself.

“Spit.” You instruct.

You see him work his jaw, sharp edges protruding here and there while he gathers some in his mouth before spitting it into your hand. You peck a nipple on the way back down to his cock wrapping the spit filled hand around him. You see him watching you and you hold eye contact as you gather some of your own and let it drool from your mouth landing on the tip of his cock. You swear you see his eyes go impossibly darker, his jaw clenching, hands turning to fists in the sheets beneath you both.

When you stroke, mixing everything, his eyes close and he lets out a breath through his nose as he rests back and gets a little more comfortable. It’s not too messy, just the perfect amount of wetness for the glide to be slick and pleasing for him. You tighten your grip and twist under the head watching as the muscles in his stomach and thighs tense, a soft grunt draws your gaze to his face.

“Yeah... like that...” he whispers. He’s just barely rocking his hips into your hands, trying to be subtle while also trying to chase the feeling.

You speed up your hand, keeping up the movements he likes while adding your tongue to flick at the underside of his head. You glance at him and find him watching you again, a fucked out look on his face, mouth slightly parted and a bead of sweat running down his temple. Slowly you sink down watching him till you can’t anymore, burying the tip of your nose in the soft patch of neatly kept hair at the base of his cock. When you feel him hit the back of your throat you contract it and shake your head from side to side and finally, finally you pull out one of his loud and unrestrained moans. It goes straight to your pussy, making it feel like it’s pulsing in your panties.

You come up for a breath before you stay down as long as you can repeating the same actions that pulled the lovely moans from his throat and you continue to hear them as you feel him start to sink his hips, almost like he’s overwhelmed and trying to pull away from how good it feels, like he can’t handle how how good it feels.

In your peripheral vision you can see his hands twitching like he’s fighting with himself before he gives in and sinks them into your hair, pulling slightly before pushing your head down and bringing his hips back up. He’s not fucking your face, but he let’s his cock sink as far back as it can and let’s you work your throat around him, lets himself get overwhelmed instead of pulling away from the feeling like he was before.

Jeongguk was a head pusher in every sense of the term. Some people hated when their partners did that, but you loved it. You loved it because Jeongguk was different from most head pushers. He had variety. Sometimes he liked pushing your head down and holding you there to choke you and watch tears form in your eyes, to watch your makeup run while you struggled to breathe. Sometimes he did it in a face-fucking way, his hips jackhammering while he moved your head up and down just the way he wanted it. This time though, he held your head down in a begging way. In a way that said “Oh god please, please don’t stop, it feels so fucking good, please stay there forever”.

Jeongguk is whimpering above you and you hum and moan loudly sending strong vibrations up your throat and down his cock and he’s thrashing, throwing his head back, grip in your hair tightening, a pleasant pain on your scalp.

“Oh my fucking god,” He groans, neck extended and his eyes squeezed shut.

His whole body is burning when you bring a hand down to massage his balls while still moving your throat against his tip and then all of a sudden he tenses and stills before he’s pulling you off, frantically chanting “Stop it, stop it.”

At lightening speed you grip the base of his cock, squeezing, trying to keep his orgasm at bay. Jeongguk’s whole body jerks with his cock, but no cum leaks out, only precum and spit making a mess on his angry, swollen cock. He relaxes back for a moment, cock still jumping, chest rising and falling as he catches his breath and you do the same and after you slowly release the hold you have on his cock you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

Suddenly your world is blurry and you’re quickly being pulled to his chest and smothered with his hands on your cheeks, and his lips everywhere they can reach.

“God. You’re so good, so so good y/n. So perfect, make me feel so good baby. How do you do it?” He praises you between kisses and you giggle, gently pawing at his chest to get him to stop or at least slow down.

He does and you take a second to look at him. And he’s glowing. His eyes are shining, like he was close to tears and his cheeks are flushed. His sweaty hair sticks to his forehead in places while the longer pieces are fanned out on the pillow underneath him. And his smile. He’s beaming and you are so in love.

You bring a hand up and brush some sweaty strands back off his face. His eyes close and he pushes into the touch like a kitten wanting pets. He sighs contentedly.

“You’re so beautiful, Jeongguk. So pretty.” You whisper, placing a kiss to his forehead.

You bring your hand down from his hair and cradle his cheek, running your thumb over his plump, red bottom lip. You can see faint teeth marks underneath it from where he was biting it. His eyelashes flutter on his cheek as his eyes close and he sighs quietly before he nibbles on the fingertip with his front teeth and then takes the whole thing into his mouth, sucking on it. You gasp quietly, and apply light pressure pushing down on the wetness of his tongue prying his mouth open and he just lets you.

Your lips find his, and you dip your tongue into his open mouth before your hand moves to his jaw to keep it agape and you fuck your tongue into it.

“This is how my tongue is gonna fuck you...” you whisper.

He whines high and needy, and his hands move to cup your cheeks. You moan before settling over him more comfortably and pushing your soaked panties to the side before wiggling till his cock is settled between your lips.

The night was supposed to be about him, but you need something before you lose it. You move your hips in small little thrusts, the length of his cock rubbing deliciously over you clit. You both gasp into each others mouths. The hands on your ass encourage you, pressing into your cheeks and the small of your back whenever you thrust forward, and the thumbs on your hips push when you grind back.

“Holy fuck you’re so wet.” He’s says it like he’s in awe, like he can’t believe it. Like he hasn’t made you this way so many times before.

You rest your forehead on his while continuing to grind on his cock. “Love you like this...” You grip his jaw again and pry it open, even though you know he would open willingly if you just asked. You look in his eyes searching, before you feel him nod in your hold. You lean forward over his mouth and let some spit fall into it, he moans while he eagerly drinks it down.

His grip on your hips tightens and you feel his cock jerk against your clit, but he’s good. He doesn’t cum.

“I love it too... just not all the time... it’s- a lot. Overwhelming.” He whispers, and you coo.

“I know baby, you’re doing so well. Color?” You ask.

“Green.” He answers without hesitation.

You smile and kiss him. “Wanna keep going?”

He flushes when he nods his head. “Please.”

Once again you find yourself between Jeongguk’s legs. You play with his cock a little before smoothing your hands under his thighs, trying to gently push them up and back but he whines and resists.

“You have to let me see baby.” You say, a smile in your voice.

Jeongguk squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath before slowly letting his legs fall apart.

You hum, before saying, “Hand me a pillow please.”

He’s confused but does as you ask, understanding when you tap the side of his cheek with instructions to lift his hips, pillow settling underneath his ass and lower back, propping them up a little.

You settle back down on your tummy, and open his legs again. Jeongguk says nothing but you can feel his body shaking a little with a constant tremor. He takes a deep breath settling back into the pillow he placed behind his head so he can watch what you do next.

“Ready?” You ask, hands gripping at the meaty inside parts of his thighs. You get a stiff nod, but still no noises. You pout but get started by running your tongue flat over his balls, hoping to ease him into it.

You feel his thighs tense, as you lap at the hairless balls, sucking them into your mouth every once in a while. Your eyes constantly flicker to Jeongguk’s face to make sure there’s nothing wrong, but all you see is pleasure on his face while he breathes out in soft little puffs through his nose. His eyes are hooded and his lip is drawn between his teeth.

You hold his heady gaze and you place your first little lick on his perineum. At the contact, his head falls back, mouth hanging open. You wiggle closer to place a kiss to the area, transitioning to quick little flicks of your tongue and Jeongguk moans, and you watch as he spreads a bit more, lifting his feet so his knees are pulled closer to his chest, giving you easier access. You moan at his eagerness, and have to stop for a minute, putting a hand between your legs to just press on your center for some kind of relief.

His eyes are still closed, like he doesn’t want to see you between his legs licking at his most private area, but his quiet whining and restless shifting is enough to let you know that he’s okay and enjoying it.

You bring your hands up and place one on each of his cheeks, squeezing a little, admiring the soft give of his muscles. He’s so plush. You apply pressure so his legs fall farther back and then spread him apart. You bite your lip and your mouth waters at the thought of how good your going to make him feel.

Tentatively you poke your tongue out and trace it around the little ring of muscle. He gasps and tries to clench and close his legs but you hold them in place.

“It’s okay baby.”

“‘S weird...” He mumbles.

“I know. Just try to relax for me, okay?”

You hear him take a few deep breaths before you feel his body shake with a nod. His legs fall open again and you make quick work of his hole, placing your tongue flat over it, dragging all the way up to where his balls meet his perineum.

“Ohhh,” He breathes out.

You take that as a good sign before getting a bit rougher with your actions, less of the tentative licks and more of some tight sucking and quick flicking. He’s doing so well and you can hear him moaning above you. His cock is so hard and swollen on his belly, neglected and leaking.

“Pull your legs back baby.”

He opens his eyes and they are unfocused. It takes him a second to process what you asked him to do, but once he does he moves quickly. He has a hazy look in his eyes, his mouth in parted slightly, and his tongue peaks out to wet his lips as he gets comfortable in the new position.

“Watch me?” You plead, while licking over his hole again, eyes not leaving him waiting for a response.

His eyes close for just a moment and a wrinkle of pleasure forms between his brows and his cock jumps, a little spurt of precum oozing out. He inhales and opens his eyes on the exhale, breathing out a small “Okay.”

Once you start to figure out what he likes and what makes him happy, all you hear is the steadily getting louder pleased noises falling from his lips. You point your tongue and gently push past the tight ring of muscles and Jeongguk sobs. He brings a hand to his face and rubs over it, before throwing his arm over his face, hiding because he’s so overwhelmed. To your surprise he starts to gently rock against your tongue.

“Oh my god you’re so hot Jeongguk,” You moan.

“Don’t stop,” He begs. He sounds close to tears.

“Touch yourself, baby.”

You wait until you see his hand wrap around his cock giving himself a few slow strokes, wet eyes on you, waiting for you to keep going.

As soon as your mouth meets him again, his hand he has on his cock starts moving faster, almost frantically over his length and his hips are stuttering like he doesn’t know if he wants to fuck his hand or if he wants to fuck himself back onto your tongue. You decide for him and hold his hips close to your face, sucking repeatedly on the ring of fluttering muscle.

Jeongguk gasps, “I’m close, I wanna cum y/n- Please, I-“ His head falls back and his hand doesn’t slow.

You give your hum of approval against his hole, and watch him fall apart.

His head is thrown back and he’s so sweaty from working so hard for his release. His chest rises and falls in quick staccato breaths, and his free hand goes up to a nipple, lightly rubbing his thumb over it and he keens, before he goes silent, whole body stuttering and he chokes out nothing more than a quick, quiet “Cumming” before his cock pulses and shoots out 1, 2, 3 stripes of white, the rest dribbling down his length and over his fingers. His body almost convulses from the pleasure coursing through his veins. He keeps stroking, and he lets you keep licking until he squirms, uncomfortable from the overstimulation.

You wipe your mouth and immediately make your way up to his face, straddling his hips. You don’t care about the cum, but you’re carful to avoid his sensitive cock, which is a little deflated but still laying somewhat hard on his tummy. You’re both out of breath when you slam your lips against his so it’s more gasping into each other’s mouths while your lips occasionally meet before you need a breath again. But you’re desperate to show him how good he did.

You pull back and grip his face in your hands. His hands hold your wrists, like he’s keeping them in place on his cheeks. He’s still catching his breath with his eyes closed, but you want him to see how proud you are.

“Jeongguk, look at me.”

He does and his eyes are glassy and wet and his eyelashes are clumped together with unshed tears. He offers you a sheepish smile.

“You did so good baby. So fucking good. I love you.” You pepper kisses over his face.

He laughs breathlessly, “Didn’t get to your fingers...”

You laugh with him quietly. “That’s okay baby, we can do that next time. You were perfect.” You take a deep breath and collapse on top of him, resting your face in the crook of his neck, smiling while leaving small lovebites all over.

After a minute or so though, you feel him start to get restless underneath you.

“What is it baby?” You ask not really moving much.

He mumbles something into the top of your head.

“Huh?” You say sitting up to look at him.

He looks kinda petulant for someone who just came so hard it hit their neck.

He mumbles again.

“Koo. Words.”

He blushes and scowls looking away from you but the hands settled on your hips rub small circles into your hip bones, showing he’s not actually mad and most likely just being a brat.

“I want them now.” It’s quiet and pouty, but at least you understand him this time.

Your mouth opens in understanding but your eyebrows raise in surprise. You look over your shoulder and down to see his cock still laying plump and hard on his stomach in a little puddle of cum.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to, I know we said that was the plan but we can always do it ano-“

He grabs the back of your neck pulls you down to kiss you deep and slow, his tongue finding it’s way into your mouth. When he speaks again it’s soft against your lips.

“Please y/n... it felt so good,” A tiny peck is given as your noses touch.

You exhale a shaky breath, “Yeah, okay. If that’s what you want.”

He kisses you deeply again, but positions you over his cock so he can rut up into your pussy.

“Can’t you feel how bad I want it?” He whispers against your lips. He nips at the bottom one while smiling before pulling away and settling against the pillows again, looking at you expectantly once he gets comfortable.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Big words coming from someone who claimed they didn’t even want this like an hour ago.” You smile down at him, eyes sparkling.

He snickers. He breathes a deep sigh before settling back even more. “Yeah. That was before I came so hard that I almost blacked out.” His hands are behind his head and his eyes are closed like he’s reminiscing about a distant memory, a smug smile on his lips.

“You switch from being my baby to a pain so fast.” You pout as you settle once again between Jeongguk’s legs.

He parts them with a hum. “Still your baby... just- make me feel good please, I’m like so hard- throbbing.”

You suck on your fingers a little bit to get them wet before circling one around the ring of muscles. You don’t miss the tiny gasp, or the way his legs subconsciously part even wider.

“I don’t think it’s gonna feel the best at first....” You warn, applying the slightest pressure to his hole, before going back to circling it. “Hand me the lube on the nightstand please.”

Jeongguk obliges before he says, “I know just... go slow.” He sounds just a little bit nervous.

You give a quick nod while you open up Jeongguk’s half empty bottle of lube and drizzle some onto your fingers, lathering it over them to warm it some before getting them into position.

“Do you think about me when you use this?” you ask still running your slick fingers over him.

He nods and licks his lips subconsciously. “Mhmm sometimes.”

You fake gasp and bite at his knee by your side. You’re sitting crisscross applesauce in between his legs. “Only sometimes?”

“I watch porn too,” He giggles breathlessly. “Sometimes I look for girls that look like you though, if that helps.”

“It does not.” You say indignantly, only half joking.

He brings his foot up and lightly kicks at your leg. “You watch porn too that’s literally why we are in this mess right now. We watched it together.”

You full on laugh at that. He has a point. “Okay enough, hush and relax baby.”

You weren’t sure if it was better to warn Jeongguk, or just slowly ease him into it without saying anything. If you warned him you knew he would tense up and it would just make it harder on his body, but you also didn’t want to take him by surprise either.

You must have just been circling his rim for a minute because Jeongguk huffs before asking, “Are you gonna like... put it in or...?”

You take that as a go, and peck the inside of his thigh a preemptive apology because you knew it was going to hurt a little. Jeongguk had prepped you for the times you tried anal with him and you vividly remember the sting before it became bearable. Your hands and fingers were much smaller than his, and certainly much smaller than his cock, so you are hoping the pain isn’t too horrible and ends quickly.

Oh so slowly you start to sink your middle finger inside of him. He sucks in a breath through his teeth and when you flick your eyes up to look at him you can see his eyes squeezed shut tightly and his jaw clenched.

“I’m sorry are you okay? Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t really hurt yet, it’s just uncomfortable... Keep going.”

You nod softly before you resume what you were doing, and once you get down to your last knuckle, you wiggle your finger around inside for a second like you had seen in the porn that you and him watched together, hoping to stretch him out some.

Above you Jeongguk is taking shallow breaths the sort of sound like they are getting a little higher pitched at the end, and he shifts and wiggles a bit because of the foreign feeling. You glance at his cock and see that’s its gone just a little soft.

“Touching yourself might help you relax a little bit and it might make it feel a little bit better.” You suggest lightly.

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything but he does as he’s told, slowly stroking his cock back to it’s full length.

“That’s it, good boy. I can feel you’re less tense already.” You praise, and you start to move your finger in and out. It’s tight, but there’s a lot less resistance. You move them just a bit faster and focus on Jeongguk’s reactions.

His hand has started to move a bit faster over his cock, and his mouth is parted and his eyes are closed, like he’s lost in the feeling. There’s a flush on his face that has travelled all the way down his chest. Soft moans fall from his lips occasionally, although you can’t tell if that’s from you or him touching himself.

“Does it feel good?” You ask, genuinely curious.

“It feels…” He pauses like he’s unsure. “It feels… nice. I think.”

You snort. “You think?”

He laughs a little breathless, hand still stroking over his cock. “I mean it’s weird. But it’s not unpleasant. I could probably cum if I kept touching my dick.”

“Don’t cum, I haven’t found your button yet.” Your eyebrows furrow, determination set on your face.

“I do not have a button.” He says absently.

“You do. I’m gonna do the second one kay?”

“I don’t and okay.”

You ignore him and grab the lube again, adding a bit more. Your fingers find their place and as they start to sink in, Jeongguk sucks a sharp breath through his teeth, and goes rigid. You wince.

“Hurts…” He says quietly.

“I’m sorry baby.” You rub your free hand over his thigh, trying to comfort him. You give him a moment, he takes a few breaths before saying to keep going.

It takes a little bit but eventually you get both fingers in. Jeongguk isn’t feeling good yet, teeth grinding, body tense, and hands fisted in the sheets trying to ground himself, but you are determined to make it good for him. You get on your stomach and add your tongue to your fingers as you start to pull them out just to push them back in. The lube doesn’t taste very good, but the way that Jeongguk’s breath hitches when he feels your mouth on him again makes up for it.

“I- I love that.” He says, voice airy and soft as he turns his head to the side and into his shoulder like he’s trying to hide.

“Mmm, starting to feel good now baby?” You ask, flicking your tongue while your fingers start to sink in easily.

“Yeah, ‘s good…” He mumbles.

Once you’re sure that there’s no pain at all for Jeongguk, you start to crook your fingers inside of him on every thrust in trying to find that secret spot of his. Jeongguk sounds lovely while you’re searching, but the way he sounds when you finally hit it is like nothing you’ve heard from him before. It’s like he gets punched in the gut and looses his breath, a moan getting caught in his throat for a moment before he exhales a high pitched whine. You didn’t get to see it, too focused, but you know his eyes rolled back.

“There,” he breathes.

You moan as you rest your head against his thigh, focusing on your attention on your fingers and hitting that spot every time you move them inside of him. Each time you hit it sweet moans are punched out, or quiet affirmations are whispered. “Yes, please, more…”.

He has that look of pleasure on his face, the scrunched eyebrows, the parted mouth. He’s fidgety, and fussy like he just wants more but doesn’t know how to get it. He huffs, annoyed, before he starts to push back on your fingers.

“God… you’re so desperate for it,” You whisper completely captivated by how much pleasure Jeongguk looks like he’s in.

He doesn’t acknowledge you. Until you start to put a constant pressure on his prostate, rubbing.

“Oh fuck- I-“ He looks down to where your fingers are like he can’t believe the way they are making him feel before he throws his head back and let’s out a deep groan.

He lets you make him feel good, let’s the pleasure build up in his body until you start to feel him tense. His whines start to come out more frequently, almost constant moans filling the air. So noisy. His legs open more and you see how his toes curl in the sheets.

“Oh my god I think I’m gonna cum,” It’s said breathlessly, almost confused. Like he didn’t think that he would actually be able to cum just from your fingers inside of him, hands still at his sides fisted in the sheets.

“Yeah baby?” You ask, voice airy.

He nods, tongue poking out of his mouth like he’s concentrating.

Your arm hurts, but you keep thrusting and rubbing over that spot inside of him. His muscles are strained, and next to your body, you can see his legs start to tremble. His breathing is fast and short. His cock is fat and swollen laying in a puddle of precum, it looks like it hurts with how red it is. You take you other hand and start to rub on his perineum, stimulating him on the outside as well as the inside and that’s when he loses it.

He let’s out a choked cry before his body jerks up, curling in on itself. “Oh fuck I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming-“

You don’t let up, an awestruck smiling forming on your face as you watch Jeongguk fall apart on your fingers. He’s so tight around them, it’s like his body is begging you not to stop, keeping you in place. He feels like every hair on his body is standing on end and like his skin is overly receptive and sensitive to every little thing. Wave after wave of ecstasy is flowing over him. His whole body trembles, yet his cock doesn’t jerk like with his other orgasm. This time it just pulses flat on his stomach, cum leaking out of the tip adding to the mess that was already there. With every pulse of his cock, Jeongguk’s body curls more, back raise off the bed, abs flexed due to the strain on his core. The look on his face is one of indescribable pleasure. It’s obscene. After the final pulse of his cock, he falls back, absolutely spent.

Your fingers slowly come to a stop, and you carefully remove them from him and wipe them on the bed before you crawl over his thigh and flop down by his side. You peck his cheek, staying quiet this time, not wanting to overwhelm him. He’s still has tremors running through his body when he turns his head to look at you. His chest is heaving and his eyes are droopy, but there’s a sleepy smile on his lips. He curls onto his side so you guys are facing each other.

The silence is thick and heavy but not in a suffocating way. More so in a comforting way. The atmosphere feels like you both are wrapped in a weighted blanket, just relishing in the warm afterglow of what you did together.

You wiggle closer, hook a thigh over his hip. “How was it? Did you like it?” You don’t know why but you sound shy, kinda nervous.

He simply nods, a soft smile on his face as he brushes some hair behind your ear, hand coming to rest on your cheek for just a few seconds before it’s sliding down your arm, down your hip, playing with lacy top of your panties. He bumps noses with you, breathing in your exhales before he closes his eyes and fits his lips between yours. His hand slips into your panties.

You open easily for him, angling yourself mostly on your back so it’s easier for him to reach where you want him most. He sighs into your mouth when he feels how wet you are. He dips between your lips and you gasp, hand going down to grip at his wrist willing him not to tease, to not move his hand away.

“Don’t worry, I just wanna make you feel good baby.” He coos in your ear as his middle finger starts to rub slowly over your clit.

You let out soft whimpers at the slow pace that makes the fire in your belly curl and steadily grow.

“Jeongguk, I’m already close…” You warn.

“Mmm, that’s it baby. Want you to cum for me, like I came for you.” His finger speeds up some. “Fuck, you made me cum so hard y/n. Made me crazy. You always do.” He moans gently into your ear.

You nod, and your legs begin to tremble. “Don’t stop,” You beg, meaning both his fingers and his words.

“You wanna know what it felt like? You wanna know what you did to me?” He presses a touch harder, and nips are your cheek.

You nod again, subtly rocking your hips into his touch.

“You made me cum untouched y/n. Do you know how good you had to fuck me in order for that to happen? God, it was so intense, and I was just leaking so much the whole time. You did that to me baby, you made me feel that good. Fuck, I wanna make you feel that good too, please cum for me y/n. I know you’re close, I know your body just as well as you know mine.” He sounds desperate, just yearning to get you there. “I can tell by the way your legs are shaking, and the way you can’t stop whining my name. Sound so pretty baby, just for me. Your hand on my wrist is gripping so hard, like you can’t take what my fingers are doing to you. But you’re gonna take it and give me what I want right? Just like I gave you what you wanted, hmm?”

“Fuck, Jeongguk I’m cumming,” You cry, his words and his fingers making you shake and finally get the release that you’ve been putting off the whole night. Your thighs close over his hand but Jeongguk doesn’t let up, not until you’re cumming for the second time in a span of minutes.

“Please- I can’t-“ You squirm, and wiggle, until his fingers slow and finally slip form your panties. You sigh in bliss, body twitching as the last bits of your climax leave your body.

You turn back to your side and snuggle all the way against Jeongguk’s body, legs intertwining. Jeongguk runs his nails over your back, making little goosebumps sprout over your body. There’s a peaceful quiet coming over you, both tired from the events of the night. Jeongguk breaks it.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” It’s a timid statement, but you can hear how much he means it.

You kiss softly over his heartbeat. “I always will.”

“Just please don’t ever ask to peg me.”

You simply hum. “Goodnight baby.”

------------------------

i hope you liked it!! i’m thinking of writing a smutty drabble of when oc and jk watch the porn together 🤨 let me know if you would want to read that or anymore of this universe! comments, notes, and feedback are YEARNED for. my ask is also open if you want to request, share thoughts, or just talk

part 3 here!

2K notes · View notes

bangtanfancamp · 4 years ago

Text

Try Again | KNJ

summary: Got guy trouble? Of course your best friend Namjoon is the perfect person to talk to about it. It just ... doesn’t go at all how you expect it to. Maybe that isn’t the worst thing though.

•masterlist

•one shot

•pairing: Kim Namjoon x Oc

•genre: best friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, smut, fluff, comfort, slice of life

•word count: 11.5 k

•rating: MATURE (18+)

•warnings: oh quite a plethora today, friends. Language. Very much smut. Soft smut. Lots of heart and connection, but definitely very much smut. No way around that. Vaguely stream of consciousness in that there is a plot but IS there a real plot? I’m an INFP. Who knows. Also, idk, trauma processing? Mental Heath is a lot of work, friends. Anxiety. Fear? Dishonored boundaries. Sort of infidelity but not really? It’ll make sense when you read it. Sucky breakups and questionable relationship dynamics. Frank discussions of how freaking weird it can be to navigate sex, physical intimacy and relationships. hopefully heartfelt conclusions. astrology , loose mythology interpretations and Nikita gill poetry references. Super flirty friends who don’t realize they’re oversharing and super flirty until well after they’ve gone and become soulmates.

•authors note: I really don’t know what the flip this is, but I’ve been picking at it nonstop these last few days, and I really just want to post the dang thing to get it out of my Google docs and stop looking at it. It’s very much unedited and being published at 3am. We’re processing how hard being a human is a lot lately, and I really just think it would be easier with Namjoon as a friend

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“Namjoonie?”

With wide eyes, you swing around the doorframe of his studio, your half up ponytail swinging in tandem as you do.

He smiles at his screen, lips widening and dimples seeping into the soft dough of his cheeks as he laughs. He doesn’t look your way, but you know you have his attention.

“Yes, y/n?” he hums.

You feel yourself light up at the laughter in his voice when he says your name. He doesn’t seem like he’s bothered by your interruption in the slightest. In fact, He sounds rather...happy. Even you can easily tell. You’re so glad to see the warmth in his eyes, the easy chuckle in his shoulders and upturned twist in his lips. You feel your own grin swell with relief at the open way he welcomes you. It fills you with confidence enough to plunge ahead.

“Can I ask you something?” Your head tips sideways coyly as you watch him through your fluttered lashes.

“Aren’t you asking me something now?” He chuckles, leaning back in his seat with eyes fixed on his monitor screen.

“You know what I mean, Joonie,” you nudge your pointer finger deep into the well of his cheek. “I’m being serious,” you giggle.

“I can see that,” he flicks a sideways glance your way, mirth spilling from the corners of his full lips. “Well, C’mon then, out with it- what is it? Just ask me.” He acquiesces, looking up at you finally.

His brown eyes swim with camaraderie and warmth as he pulls you into his lap. You tumble down into him with an oof as his long arms wrap their way around you. You can feel his fingers along your waist, playing with the hem of your blousy crop top, occasionally brushing the skin beneath as you beam up at him. You feel both secure in his grip and happily flustered at his attention— it’s a delightful cocktail for a Tuesday afternoon really— both your smiles seem ever growing as his touch continues.

“Joonie, you’re gonna distract me,” you giggle as his button nose drags along your neck. It should be an odd occurrence, but it isn’t. It’s just you and Joonie.

“Like you’re distracting me?” He teases, voice deep as his warm breath tickles your skin.

“Touché. But I’m serious! So you have to give me a serious answer.” You enforce, gripping his shoulder firmly. He flexes his arm and you roll your eyes, even if some far off part of you loves every second of it.

“Ugh, fine.Okay. Okay. I’m here. I’m calm. I’m serious,” he nods firmly, clearing his throat, and pulling back into his seat, subtly pulling you with him until you’re bracing yourself against his solid chest. “See? We’re serious. Serious face.” He twists his face into a frown, dipping his brows and angling his chin until his jaw is clenched, tongue in his cheek in mock displeasure as you reach to happily tap the tip of his nose.

“Excellent. Yes. Focused. Let’s attempt this, shall we?” You wiggle to settle yourself, laughing when his hands immediately grasp your hips to still them. He cocks an eyebrow your way in warning, sharing a look only the two of you know, before smiling so wide his beautiful chocolate eyes fully disappear behind his eye crinkles. You both laugh happily, breezing easily past the moment, until Namjoon reigns his giggles in. Once again clearing his throat, he tips his head your way in instruction.

“Come on. What is it?” His eyes are still sparkling, but his face is now serene, studious even.

Smiling so wide you feel your cheeks begin to ache, you run delicate fingers through the bits of hair falling into his face. Your fingertips trace over his cheeks and across the full swell of his chest, sighing dreamily as you do so. How come affection always comes so easy with him?

“You’re simply the best, d’you know that?” You whisper, elation in your eyes.

He blushes, his happy face scrunching tight as he licks his lips and avoids your gaze. Burying his face in your collarbone he mumbles,”is that what you’re here to say?”

“No. In fact, not at all actually,” you giggle. “I just felt like telling you. Got a bit off topic once I got here, I guess.”

You dip to kiss the top of his swirled hair, lavender lychee and yuzu greeting you in unison in his freshly shampooed tresses. Scrumptious. He breathes soft through his nose in a happy exhale as you do, snuggling you close into his arms as you settle in his lap.

“How may I be of service, Jagiya?” He presses a soft, welcome kiss to the back of your hand before pulling back to meet your eyes. Such a silly boy.

“Okay, I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and I have the oddest thing to ask you.”

“Okay, shoot.” He nods, licking his lips and concentrating on whatever it is you’re about to say next. You’re tempted to laugh at his sudden, eager composure, but you know it’ll only get you both further off track, so you swallow your giggles for now instead , hiding them somewhere precious and sweet until it’s time to properly collect them.

“Okay, here goes.”

Wistfully, you throw your arms lazily over his broad shoulders and look towards the light installation overhead, some modern, angular thing he had installed last year when he renovated the studio.

“So!” You begin, “things with the boy have been so much better the last few weeks.”

His eyes light up, “Yeah? Have they?” He smiles warmly when you nod. “Do we like this one?’

“Sort of? I think? I mean, I don’t quite know. It’s only been a handful of dates, but I think it’s going... good,” you assert.

“Y/n, that’s so good.”

“Right? Isn’t it?”

“I’m so happy for you. I’ve noticed your spirit’s seemed up lately. I was really hoping that was why,” he beams.

“Oh, you’re such a love, joonie.” Endeared that he noticed, you happily pinch his cheeks. Normally, he would shirk anyone else away immediately for doing such a thing, but his soft spot for you is unparalleled these days, so he refrains from disturbing you as you continue. “I was so worried a few weeks ago, Joon. Things felt like such a mess. I felt like such a mess, but did you know, Joon, this guy...he’s been so sweet. So good to me. It almost has me wondering, did you say something to him?” You squint inquisitively, bumping the tip of your nose against his. His grin flashes wider as he taps back against yours before kissing your cheek and pulling back to mime zipping his lips.

“Who me?” He mumbles through a closed mouth.

“Yes, you, silly.” You swat. “Who else knows me as well as you do? I didn’t think this dramatic a turnaround was possible. He’s so thoroughly improved after those first two bungling dates that it’s almost suspicious. You’re sure you haven’t given him a y/n 101 cheat sheet? How is he an honor student all of a sudden when he was on the verge of being expelled a few weeks ago?”

“Oh come now. Please, you were never going to expel him,” he challenges, leveling you with a look as his thumb glides its way along your rib cage. It makes you shiver, smile and pull him closer.

“Okay, okay, send him to summer school at least. Just a little remedial work…or detention, perhaps? I don’t know. Early Retrograde was really aggressive okay? Things were looking pretty grim.” You grimace with a shoulder shrug.

“In Gemini too. Miscommunication and frustration just rampant.” He makes mock explosions with his hands as you tip back abruptly in his lap. It makes you yelp before he’s leaning forward, scooping you securely against him and tutting in derision at you for your lack of faith in him. “Settle down. I always forget what a jumpy little bunny you are. You really think I was going to drop you?”

“I mean, I’ve seen you fall out of an office chair all on your own without my help, so yeah, it is a concern.”

“Touché. I always forget you know me that well. As you were saying,” he blushes, all six foot something of him turning sheepish as he does.

“Yes, I was. Where was I? Oh! The boy! Namjoon, you wouldn’t believe how thoughtful he’s been.”

“Really?”

“Goodness, yes. It’s been a rather miraculous turnabout altogether really. You told me to give it room to breathe, and I did, and all of a sudden we're flourishing now ” You beam.

“Wow, that really is something.” Namjoon’s happy for you. Really he is, but there’s something in his gut that feels the slightest bit… off. So he eyes you steadily as you talk, studying for the facial ticks that give you away when there’s something you still have to say.

Sure enough, he sees it there, lurking in the shadows swimming in the depths of your irises. It’s staying pretty far back, as if it believes it’s camouflaged deep enough behind your eyes that it’s successfully hiding from him. But he knows better. He knows you better.

He pauses to see if you’ll bring it up yourself, and when you don’t, he pushes ahead.

“So, how have things been in… you know… that other category,” he shirks, wishing he’d found a more graceful way to word that.

“What other… oh. You mean? Yes. That one,” you settle your grip on Joon’s firm shoulders, right in the dip between his collar and the rounded swell of muscle capping his shoulders off, “Well, you see, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Joonie. I needed to get another perspective.”

“Do tell.”

“Perfect. I need your perspective as a guy.” You nod.

“Do my best.”

“Joonie, do you ever get shy when you’re with a girl… you know, intimately?”

“Intimately? Now? No. When I was younger? Yeah, sure. Why?”

“Do you remember what you were you thinking...back then?” You tip forward, eyes all curiosity. His brows tip up, a bit surprised by how personal this is getting, but the two of you have very few things you keep off the table. He supposes it’s a fair question.

“Well, for me, at the time at least, I was probably thinking that a woman's body is honestly the most finely tuned, delicately crafted piece of technology in the entire world and as much as I wanted to literally dive face first into exploring it, I was kind of terrified of doing it wrong.” He shudders, wide eyed, as the anxiety of it ripples comically through his entire body.

“Huh, really? How wild. I mean, I guess that makes sense. What were you so afraid of though? Isn't it just a simple matter of questions and paying attention?” You cock your head sideways, half pony flopping to the side.

“I mean, sort of? But honestly, it’s also really complicated. It is just that, but it’s also a lot more than that. There are questions and there is paying attention, but you also have to get the timing and mood just right….You have to be connected with each other- which requires more emotional intelligence than you’d think, might I add….You have to be able to read her body language and predict her non verbal cues…Have to potentially be fluent as a therapist to help coach her through any lingering or buried trauma that might come up along the way.... Have to be her specific version of attractive and be authentically yourself all at once....

You have to seduce her, support her, please her, love her- be the leader, the guide and the recipient all in one. It’s a hell of a lot actually. And that’s all without even introducing any moral or spiritual implications. Don’t even get me started on all that- we’ll be here til nightfall. But yeah, it encompasses a lot on the guys' part, actually, to make it all worth your time and his. You can’t just be a good technician, you know. It’s not like being a good chef. It's not formulaic like a recipe. I mean, you can follow every pre-laid step and still get it wrong honestly. It’s intuitive and demanding, but really rewarding.. if you get it right...which is harder than you think. It’s honestly a lot more like being an empathic super hero. Even if you can read your partner inside and out, You have a job to get done too. The catch is that even if you read them and support them, you still might not accomplish your common goal together.”

“Jesus, joonie, so cerebral.” You tease, flicking his temple.

“It’s a curse, I know.” He rolls his eyes at himself.

“I mean, kind of not though. I love hearing your dissertations. They’re why I stopped by in the first place.”

“Did that help?”

“Sort of? I guess I hadn’t realized how much the guy has to account for. Maybe I’m being unfair.” You look so glum, so lost in thought as you process all that Namjoon has laid out before you. He made lots of points that you’d never actually considered before , and now you feel a bit dumb, or at the very least more naive than you would have thought before you knocked on his door. “Still. It’s just…I get..annoyed when this guy doesn’t lead. Like, in the moment, you know? It’s like he’s waiting on me and we both don’t know what to do, but I guess no one really teaches a guy how to huh?”

“Ooo God, no, that’s another topic altogether, but yeah, guys are expected to be these inherently prodigious, natural born love gods, even without having any sort of experience at all, but they’ll get judged if they do the research so it’s pretty lose-lose. That whole master class worth of intel I just mentioned is supposed to be considered the base level package, but no one gives any training or instruction so every guy’s just sort of jabbing around in the dark by himself, hoping for the best... it’s a lot of pressure, honestly. But this is all predicated on him being a good guy who’s actually worth your time and really values you trying his best. There are so many others who have zero self awareness who just cause more harm while legitimately having no clue, and beyond that, the shitty ones who are just selfish and awful with an awareness of it.” His face scrunches as he really sits back and lets it wash over him. He mindlessly runs his fingers over your hips as he processes it all.

“So, are women wrong to think the right man for them will inherently be able to read them? Or that, if he can’t get it right, that maybe he’s not the one for them?” When your eyes meet his, there’s so much vulnerability shining in them that Namjoon feels like he’s looking directly at the sun. You look beautiful and unguarded, and some part of him hates that this guy has disappointed you. “Anytime it doesn’t go smoothly, I wonder if I don’t like that particular act or if it’s just my partner and then I feel like I’m putting too much pressure on him or like I’ve drank too much of the mass media expectations kool-aid. Whatever the reason is, I feel lousy all around.” You confess with chagrin.

Namjoon lets out a low whistle as he takes the thought in. “You know, I’ve had a lot of good friends be … relieved of their title, if you will... for things like that. I don’t really know the answer if I’m being honest. I think yes, your ideal partner should be sexually compatible with you, or at the very least have good physical chemistry with you, but no ones a complete mind reader. Even if you're perfectly matched in the stars and on every compatibility platform, that still doesn’t account for individual personal preferences, dialects of love languages, life experience or individual traumas...”

“Phew, that's a lot,” you scrunch your face in distress.

“I know, right? It’s a crazy amount of factors to keep in mind all in all, especially considering that the heart of it should be organic and intrinsic. It’s hard to stay in your body and out of your head with all that, but at least there’s naked tits involved, so there’s sort of that, right?” He shrugs cheekily, tongue out as you smack him.

“I told you to be serious!” you laugh.

“I am! Bare tits are a seriously soothing motivator for a stressed out guy who wants to pleasure you. I mean, think about it- he’s under the pressure of trying to both avoid accidentally blowing his load prematurely and disappointing you by not being man enough and avoiding accidentally getting you pregnant or getting lost in his own experience by being too much. And this is all of he’s a good guy who actually cares about you. There are so many more messed up motivations if he’s only in it for himself,” Namjoon shudders. “Ultimately, sex is supposed to be this penultimate pleasure, yes, but the stakes are, in fact, outrageously high if you really think about it.” His eyes go a bit wide.

“Crikey, that’s rough.” You cringe. He snickers at your phrasing and you smack him away as you tell him to shut up. “Anyway do you think all that is why the boy’s been acting up as of late?”

“How so?”

“Did I ever tell you he’s a Scorpio?”

“Oh yeah? Wait—One who doesn’t ravage you on the daily? Really?”

“Yeah. I know. It’s a weird thing to wrap your head around isn’t it? He’s a Scorpio with a ton of Virgo in his chart actually.”

“Oh you’re joking. So he’s the inverse of me?” He’s not sure if that’s actually how astrology works, but it’s too similar not to be alarming. He wonders why his heartbeat quickens at the idea of you liking someone similar to him in any way. It’s dumb. He already knows how compatible you and he are. It’s why you’re currently sitting in his lap asking him to help solve your guy problems. Still though...

“Yyyyup. Precisely.” You quip, popping the p, and he tries to refocus.

“Ooof okay, so we’re dealing with... a Perfectionist, yes?” He looks to you for guidance, settling into a smile when you nod in assent. “Yes. Probably also absurdly talented, thinks he’s a planner but really, just likes to be the boss. Likes things to be in order and… supposedly a beast in the sack.” He adds with a little swell of confidence. He’s on the cusp of a wink when you interrupt him.

“Ah, see now that’s the bit we need to discuss.” You tap his pec.

“Does he have an unsatisfactory bit?” His brows rise dramatically. He makes air quotes with one hand as his eyes drop to his own hips, currently housing you as a chair, and rolling them up so you bounce where you sit. You giggle and blush and swat at him, telling him to focus.

“Well, that’s the thing, I don’t actually know. Because he never seems to use it.”

“Hmm. A real sticky spot huh? I really wish I could help, but Every man is so different, even with astrological similarities. I don’t know how much help I’ll be.” He offers honestly, his brows tipping softly with chagrin.

“I know, but I’ll take any advice you have for me. I mean, Joonie, I’ve been so pretty lately, and he’s not even trying to get some of me. He barely even comments about me!” You whine.

“Really?” Namjoon seems a bit flabbergasted, his beautiful features painted in shock.

“Really really.”

“But you’ve been such a babe lately! Your whole ‘hot girl summer’ manifesto really has you radiating these days,”’he offers.

“Thank you,” you beam, flipping your hair over your shoulders.

“I mean, you’ve been working really hard to take care of yourself— I can see the difference in your pretty little face.” He runs a thumb beneath the natural curve of your cheek to emphasize his point. “And Your boobs have looked beautiful lately, might I add. So soft, so full.”

“Awww, you’ve noticed?”

“I have. I mean, You’ve been going braless around the apartment on the regular these past few weeks— and they’ve got such great movement, they’re hard to ignore, really.” He’s really stretching the boundaries of his best friend card right now and he knows that, but it is true. Lucky for him, you’re too busy being glad someone finally noticed to be upset about any lines he might be crossing. He’s so emboldened by it that he decides to press his luck just a little bit further. “May I?”

He extends a hand to hover above your chest and you bristle with delight.

“Oh please do, Joonie. Someone ought to be enjoying these marvelous splendors.” You shake your head annoyed, but preen with happiness when he follows through.

Carefully, Namjoon reaches to grasp one over your shirt, his massive palm gentle as he does. He looks a little in awe at the way the malleable orb morphs and reshapes itself against his hand.

“Splendor’s a great word for them. They’re sort of thing poets could fill whole books about. How is he not enamored by them? I’d bury my face between them and never come up for air.” He states plainly, eyeing them like a soft place to land.

“See that’s what I thought too. Not to be arrogant or anything but—“

“Confidence is not arrogance,” he corrects.”You’ve worked hard to be nice to yourself. Give yourself a compliment every once in a while.” He reluctantly lets go of your breast, and shoves his shoulders up in an easy generous gesture encouraging you to move ahead, so you do.

“Thank you, joonie. I just… I can see my progress. I was mean to myself for such a long time, but even I can tell I’m getting prettier and prettier these days, and he’s even admitted, himself just how soft and warm I feel.”

“So what’s the problem then?” Joon looks bemused as he strokes the newfound definition in your thighs from all your recent cardio workouts. “It can’t possibly be that he doesn’t like your outside because your figure these days is INSANE.” He clutches a massive hand against the apex of your thigh for emphasis, swallowing back a growl when his grip meets the muscle you hide beneath your softness there.

“Joon, you’re such a flirt,” you bat his hands away, hiding your face instead.

“You’re such a delight- I’d be a fool not to be,” he shrugs, hoping he’s doing a good job of hiding how genuine all this affection really is.

“Well, tell him. He keeps psyching himself out.”

“Yeah? How so?” He asks, genuinely inquisitive as he slips down and settles in his chair, careful to hold you steady as he gets settled.

“I know how bad he wants me. I can feel his… you know,... growing against me when we kiss, or twitching when it gets stimulated… but it’s like he keeps taking his foot off the accelerator and we never get anywhere.Like maybe he doesn’t really...” want me are the words you’re too afraid to say.

Namjoon’s brows fold and dip. “What do you mean? What happens?” He tenderly brushes his fingers over the fold of your hip as he listens.

“I mean, he’ll make these offhanded comments that I can tell are actually 100% genuine—I mean they aren't even remotely subtle— about the way he very much wants me in his bed, but the second I reciprocate or even lean in and let him initiate, he almost immediately pulls himself back.” You wave your hands, baffled.

“Like how so? Can you show me?” He wonders what’s gotten into him, why he keeps pushing to see how far you’ll let him go with this. Maybe the heat’s getting to him. Whatever his reasons, you seem too preoccupied with the problem to have noticed anything out of the ordinary. He chalks it up to your absurdly high level of physical comfort with him after years of living together, if he had to guess, because you follow through with his request without a second thought.

“Sure. Here. It always winds up going something like this…”

You lean forward, turning your performer on and eying him a wickedly gleeful sparkle in your eyes, tongue running over your teeth ,”God, I just want to impregnate you right now,” you pant, one hand twisting the bunched fabric of his t-shirt as you drag your nose against his. You can feel his breath hitch through his open mouth despite the sarcasm that spills from it.

“I’m not sure that’s how this works actually …. anatomically.” He corrects, even as his palms shift to grip the arms of his chair, his natural preemptive response to brace himself when he can tell you’re about to rile him up.

“Don’t be snarky, Joonie, you know I don’t have the patience for that,” you warn as your open mouth dips to the column of his throat. You drag your lips across it, disconnecting your brain to dive in with gusto, skimming along the warmth of his honeysuckle skin and revelling in it. You never kiss him, just hover, but your hands grow more insistent as your breath glides over his neck, only to reach his mouth again and fully decelerate, abruptly and with no explanation.

Your kiss his cheek disheartenedly, your touch devolving into something slow and sentimental, borderline regretful as you begin to fully pull away. You cap it all off by kissing his nose once and placing an oddly mature, smacking peck to his confused mouth for half an instant, but when he looks up at you, you keep smiling fully, blissfully—even into the edges of your eyes— as you pull away, as though all is right. Everything about your body language signals that the moment is done before it ever began by pulling him deeply into a plush, platonic hug, wrapping your arms smoothly around his shoulders and rubbing his back.

Namjoon’s woozy, baffled face is pressed against your neck in this embrace until only his inquisitive eyes are visible. He glances at you sideways even though all he can see is your hair.

“Seriously? That’s what he’ll do?” His voice comes muffled through the fabric of your blousy top, but his confusion is evident regardless.

“More or less. Honestly maybe a little less,’ you smile grimly. “i jazzed it up a little for the show.’

“Oh Jesus. And then he’ll just… stop like that and stare at you like a marionette doll, and you’re supposed to be okay with it?”

He hasn’t felt this befuddled in ages. You flop back in his lap, abruptly releasing him. He adjusts his jaw with his hand to soothe the way it’d been yanked around in your grip.

“Apparently,” you flail.

“Bizarre. Okay. We’ll circle back. But… let’s unpack this first: don’t you hate neck kisses as foreplay? You mentioned that before: how many guys have slobbered all over your throat like they thought it was hot and you just .. felt like a dog toy, right?

“Yes, yes, yes, to all of the above,” you sigh.

“But…help me understand. You’ve told him that right?

“Several times. Before I ever dated him actually.”

“So shouldn't he know?”

“I know.” You nod.

“Don’t you hate hickeys?”

“I. Do. Yes,” you clap between phrases for emphasis, grateful Namjoon gets it.

“The only time it ever seemed like something you might have been into was that one Fourth of July party. You know, the one where we both had too many strawberry margaritas and I,” he clears his throat.“Well, I mean, you almost beat me with a spatula when you realized I’d left one without checking with you first.”

Your belly pools with something molten at the memory. Namjoon had surprised both of you that night when he’d leaned over beside you where you both sat in the grass and begun kissing your throat. You’d been surprised, but Namjoon had always been sweet and good to you and was apparently, good with that full mouth of his as you’d learned that night, so you hadn’t stopped him.

The problem was that any pleasure you’d had had been immediately eclipsed by your fearful realization, even in your hazy margarita brain, that you had work the next morning, it was summer and you wouldn’t have sufficient makeup or clothes to cover it up. Not to mention how hideously unprofessional a hickey like that would have been to the manager who already hated you at the time. You were already the low point on the totem pole. You didn’t need any help and besides, a neck hickey at an office job wasn’t going to fly. What were you, sixteen? You’d made Namjoon pay for your concealer the next morning and had teased him for his drunk behavior constantly ever since. You just never bothered to tell him that no one else had ever managed to affect you quite like him… before or since.

Clearing your throat, you bundle the memory up and swiftly put it back up on the top shelf.“That I did. But when you did it, and even in the past the one time he did it, it had at least been pleasurable, you know? I could feel your tongue and the suction…. it was something I could melt into. Turn my brain off. But now, He does this weird thing where his lips get really articulate, and there’s no tongue. Like zero tongue. He’s just jabbing at my throat with these, like, lip fingers, and Somehow, he doesn’t pick up on my aversion. Like I’m literally retreating from him like a turtle into my shell, and it’s just so unpleasant. But I mean, I’ve already verbally told him I don’t like it and I pull away, so I don’t know what there’s left for me to do.” You huff all in one breath.

“Just like those other things you told him you don’t like?” Namjoon offers, a glum smile painting his lips.

“Yeah…. “

“Is he still not getting those boundaries either?” He says sadly, not for his sake but for yours.

You sigh, irritated in every way. “No, he’s not. I’m getting so annoyed with it all, really. I keep telling him what my preferences are, and he just keeps acting like I haven’t said anything but seems stumped when I leave an interaction with him being kind of bitchy.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know. I get really passive aggressive with him, and the night just... tanks.” You lean into Namjoon’s chest, resting your cheek beside his neck. “But I mean, what else is left when he ignores direct communication? It’s infuriating,” You gesture glumly with swirling hands.

“So, you’re sure you’ve laid it all out for him?”

Your anger flares at his accusation. Whipping your head toward him, you can feel magma rising up your throat, fully on the brink of lashing out at him.

“What kind of question… of course I Ha-“

But the second you see his eyes, you remember who he is. Who you’re talking to. You remember that Namjoon would never accuse you, he’s simply asking you a question- there’s nothing loaded behind it. Raking your hands over your eyes, you apologize.

“I’m sorry…. I don’t know what came over me… this topic just makes me mad…. I forgot…”

“Shhhh,” he cradles your face, thumbs light across your skin. “Hey, look at me.”

When your eyes meet his, Namjoon’s soft brown eyes do nothing but smile back at you. The look in them is gentle and warm and you know he’s about to say something wise.

“His words and touches are confusing you, aren’t they?” He offers with a sad smile. One so comforting that all you can bring yourself to do is nod back to him. “It sounds like- from my outside perspective here- that You feel like you don’t have clarity on what’s happening to your emotions or your body. Which sounds pretty shitty honestly. I know you, Y/n. The signals this guy is giving you are all over the place, but at the end of the day, all of them wind up making you feel disrespected and undesired, and you especially need to be respected and desired.”

You drop your head and sigh. “I don’t know why it’s so strong though. I feel crazy. I feel like I ask him all the time to tell me if he thinks I’m pretty because he won’t do it on his own.”

“That frustrates you, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it really does. It took me such a long time to get my confidence back after the last guy. I finally realized I’m worth being fawned over. I’m not perfection, but I am well and above deserving having someone at least verbally appreciate me. I can be absolutely stunning when I want to be. And his disinterest, or even worse, his moderate interest infuriates me.” You look down ashamed.

“Why is that, you think, baby girl?” Namjoon hooks a finger beneath your chin, lifting it until you’re looking back at him.

“Because I hate being ignored.” You answer honestly, and it surprises you.

“There it is. Why do you think that is?”

“Because I’m stunning! And really smart! And really talented! And beautiful!” Your eyes bounce around the room as you try to focus. “Because…. because… maybe I’m settling… or maybe I picked wrong again by accident and am continuing that same dumb cycle again without knowing it.” Your voice is defeated as your shoulders cave in.

“What do you mean? What cycle?” Namjoon is playing with your hair, running his fingers through the knots and tangles of it in the most gentle way.

“Of… damn, this sounds so Freudian, but I always pick these people I have to prove myself to. I went overboard all my life trying to be the prettiest and the best or the most special, but it never seemed like enough. Now I know I’m enough all on my own, but I still keep ending up with these people who don’t seem to see it. Which is infuriating and it’s… it’s all a mess. Dear god, there’s so much to unpack in all that.”

You look up at Namjoon in distress. Not only is it flashing in your irises but it’s evident in the way your body clenches and tightens itself.

“Hey, hey hey, woah…. breathe for me. We’ll address all of that in a second, but let’s take care of you first okay? Your body is practically screaming right now, you’re so tense. I can feel it. Let’s get you comfortable, okay? Is your body in any distress?” He asks as he gently helps you to stand before rising himself.

You want to laugh at him for how clinical he sounds, but honestly, he’s right. You can feel this whole situation in your body, and it’s starting to mess with you. When he scoops you into his side, you let him. You always forget how tall he is. How comforting the shelter of his hugs are.

“The bridge of my nose is tingling again, like the beginning of an awful migraine.” Your gaze flits up to his. Namjoon brushes soft fingertips over the bridge of your nose.

“Here?”

“Yeah,” you nod softly.

“Anywhere else?”

You take a moment to assess.

“My whole face is frowning. My brows, my jaw, my teeth- they’re all tight. I think I’ve been holding my breath without realizing it again. My whole body is clenched from my neck to my toes. Has been since I woke up,” you realize.

“All right, well, we’ll start with all of those.” He smiles warmly. Bending, he presses a featherlight kiss to the bridge of your nose before tangling his fingers with yours and leading you to the corner of the studio as you follow. There’s a bemused smile swirling on your lips that’s overrun with fondness for him and his caring touches. You dip your head and grin as he tugs you along.

─────────────────────

You’ve always loved his studio office. So tranquil and peaceful. So perfectly curated for comfort. He fishes a remote out of the pocket of his cargo pants (the ones that you always tease him for since he’s the only man in world who could pull them off) and dims the main lights until all that’s left is the ambient glow of a few soft cartoon lamps and the massive Himalayan salt rock he purchased in Brazil.

It’s a beautifully sunny summer day outside, but his windows are lined by so many trees that the lighting is indirect, never harsh. He pulls you to sit beside him on his luscious futon. The cushions have always felt more like clouds than it made any sense for them to. The sofa’s wedged in a corner by the open windows with a leafy view of Namjoon’s favorite park. The curtains flutter in the breeze as you settle beside him, the warm scent of early summer tickling your nose for once instead of the frazzled bursting of little nerves behind your sinuses.

The happy trickle of his tiny indoor fountain laughs beneath the window. It’s surrounded by his collection of amethyst crystals, placed to diffuse tension and bask in moonlight. The sound of the water soothes you as Namjoon moves to pull his shirt overhead.

“Namjoon, what are you do-“

“Just trust me. I want to try something.” His eyes are incredibly warm. It’s the kind of gaze that lets you know absolutely everything will be alright, no matter how unorthodox the road to get there is about to be. “Skin to skin contact is supposed to help soothe anxiety. It always seems to help calm you down when I hold you so I thought…”

“Oh. You want to ...oh.” For the first time all day, you flush, wide eyed as you take him in.

“No, not fully skin to skin… just like, our torsos maybe? If that would be okay?” He searches your eyes, waiting for permission. It’s not a thing you ever anticipated happening when you entered his studio today, but as your gazes stay fixed on one another, you realize the idea sounds really… nice.

“Yeah, that would be okay.” Your breath comes out as a whisper, and his dimples suddenly reappear. Gently, without a word, he reaches beneath your floaty crop top to unclip your bra, pausing in surprise when he meets the bare skin along your ribs instead.

“Oh… I didn’t fully realize…” he swallows. “I thought maybe you just had one of your soft ones on today. Your body doesn’t usually get this tense unless you have one of your really tight sporty ones on. This guy’s really got you stressed out, huh?” His face is a picture of nothing but genuine concern.

Tenderly, Namjoon traces along your skin and lifts your blousy top up over your head, guiding you to lean into him. Skin to skin. It really is… nice. He was right. It really does help calm your anxiety.

Once you’re settled against him, he taps another button on the remote, one that allows the futon to extend. Not quite flat but elongated and dipped back at enough of an angle that you’re both reclined. The pillows are soft, the leather beneath you both worn in and cool. Warmed just enough by the sun to be pleasant. You breathe in a burst of clean air as the plants in his studio refresh the space, healing any tension in the air.

Between the babbling little brook, the fresh breeze, the soft fabrics and the indirect warmth of a lazy sun and a warm solid body surrounding you, you realize Namjoon has pulled out every trick in his book to smooth your nerves. The lavender he’s put on his pulse points swirls in your nose as his fingers swirl in your hair and glide down your spine, and suddenly, it feels safe to breathe again.

He seems to sense it- the moment when your body begins to unwind beside him.

“Would you like to talk about it again?” He asks, brushing his cheek against the top of your hair. You take a moment to sigh before you answer.

“You know, I feel like I probably should, but I’m so scared it’s going to get me all riled up again, and I don’t want that, Joonie. I really don’t. I just want to lay here with you and have things be peaceful.” You sigh, pressing your lips against the skin on his golden chest. You sink into him, inhaling the natural sweetness of his skin.

“Well, how about this, then? Instead of listing out all that’s bothering you, or all you’re scared of, the cycles you fear, maybe…. maybe we focus on what you do want instead. What you’re longing for. Focus on what fills you up… or what you’d like to.”

Sniffling, you nuzzle into his skin.

“Was that supposed to be a euphemism or did it just happen that way?” It only takes a glance up at his … yep… blushing face to know that it wasn’t intentional, and that warms your heart in untold ways. Perhaps it’s better that way.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you slip it out to see an Audio message.. from him.

“Oh cripes. It’s him.”

You deflate, feeling your ribs sink in all the way until they’ve met your spine. You look up at him, a balloon that’s lost all its air.

“You can play it- go ahead. I got you. I’m right here with you.”

Sighing, you turn on the speaker and listen in tandem with Namjoon, shocked altogether when you get the news.

“He wants to cancel our next date,” you whisper. As the message trails on, something about how ‘maybe we just shouldn’t see each other at all after that actually’ and something about ‘not being compatible but it’s not your fault,’ realization dawns on you.

“Is he... breaking up with me? Through an audio message?” Your eyes flit up to Namjoon’s in distress.

“That piece of… I’m so sorry, y/n.” His brows have scooped upside down into sad tilted u’s and it’s all the confirmation you need to know that the last minute and thirty seconds were not in fact a terrible dream and were indeed a terribly unpleasant reality.

“This is the strangest day. I know I really shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like it really had been going on long enough to even be a proper relationship— it’s barely been a month. Besides, I spent the whole afternoon making a verbal pros and cons list about him with another guy, so its not like it was going great but,...I mean, I know part of me knew I probably just needed to let this all go, but I just didn’t expect...” your incoherencies babble themselves into silence as Namjoon rubs the back of your shoulders. It reminds you where you are, how you're currently configured, and it makes you feel a bit swimmy.

Looking down at the way you're currently laying bare tits to pecs with your best friend, you become very aware that this was probably for the best, but that doesn't make the nastiness of it hurt any less. An audio message? Really?

“I hate this for you,” Namjoon’s voice is a jumble of gravel and disappointment. “I’m sorry he was such a douchebag about this.’

‘Thanks, Joonie. It can’t be helped now. I guess…I just wish I knew what to do. Because I definitely don’t,” you shake your head.

Namjoom does though, scooping the phone out of your hand and clicking it shut, he pulls you closer as a fresh breeze ruffles the leaves of his peace lily near the window.

“Step one, lean into the friends you have who do show up until you find the guy who does,” he strokes the peachy fuzz along your upper arm and kisses your temple sweetly.

“But how do you know which ones those are? They all seem that way from the start,” you sigh, sinking into him.

Dragging a finger along his ribs, you count the dips you feel, wondering how many ridges it takes to protect the fragile thing in our chests.

“Hmm. True. But if I know anything about you, it’s that you have the most sensitive intuition of anyone I’ve ever met. It’s so pure, so true, and it never lies to you. You know, there are cultures that think it’s the work of divine feminine energy. I don’t know if that’s true, but you’ve always seemed to have a bit of a goddess appeal to you. I think it suits you. You just have to trust it.”

He nudges your charmingly disheveled hair with his nose, and you breathe a happy scoff into his skin.

“I’m not sure what your well placed flattery has to do with this one, but I’ll bite for once, Nikita Gill. Carry on,” you twist in his arms until your back rests against his front, and you’re sitting between his legs. His fingers come to drag across the skin just above the ribbon cinched waist band on your floaty shorts as you reach above you to loop behind his head. You absentmindedly tangle your fingers in his lavender tresses while the warmth of his skin and rhythm of his breathing rock you gently.

“Funny you should mention her. You’re a bit like her modern Aphrodite, you know.”

“How so?” You bump your forehead against his sculpted chin.

“I mean that one passage. About how the goddess of love and desire had mended so many of her wounds. She’d adapted and settled into herself, overcome all the envy and control she used to thrive off of, but she still felt alone. Until she was invited to a dinner party with the other women of Olympus and realized how loving and welcoming it was to be supported by others as friends and not enemies.”

You nodded, lowering your arms to drape them over top of his and trace his forearms.

“I remember that one. It was one of my favorites in that book. I’d been so excited to show you.”

“I think my lovely Aphrodite needs that.”

“I thought I was your Persephone?” You look up.” I’ve always related to her.”

“You are. Besides the obvious similarities with her complications with Demeter, when you’re glowing, you really are the personification of spring. For this analogy though, even though Persephone is regal in her own way, you’ve always had something of Venus about you too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nods, eyes warm and voice mellowed to soothe. “If you really think about it, you’re a lot like Aphrodite in that poem. She had so many wounded relationships, and you’ve sustained such deep wounds that you’re constantly seeking ways to heal them. And You’ve healed yourself so much already- which im so proud of you for, by the way-“ he kisses your forehead as your lashes flutter shut. “But I think you need a nest like that. A place to rest filled with people who will nourish and nurture you. A place to land while you heal the rest.”

“That sounds lovely,” you sigh,”but I haven’t the slightest idea where to find it.”

Namjoon smooths his palms over the tops of your thighs, his thumbs dragging over the splashes of freckles he finds there.

“I don’t think it’s a place you have to search for. I think it’s a thing you open yourself up to. An energy you receive when you emit it.”

“Like, putting out what I want to receive?”

“Mmm, hmm,” he nods as his ring finger sketches out Orion’s Belt between your freckles. “That guy doesn’t know what he’s doing, but that’s not your fault. There’s someone for you, if that’s what you want. Someone who’ll notice how more than enough you are. Promise. Just don’t force it. Don’t hunt it down or seek it out. Just let good come to you. It will find you when you’re ready for it if you prepare to welcome it.”

You feel tension in the joints of your shoulders lessen in relief at his suggestion. You hadn’t known you were gripping your muscle there, or that you even could. Tipping your head back into his bare shoulder, you begin to relax.

“When are they gonna give you a talk show, Joonie?” You smile.

“I mean, I’d settle for a podcast, but my advice account is actually viral on TikTok. Did you not know? How do you think I afford my share of the apartment?”

“You know, I never thought about it, but that makes perfect sense,” you laugh softly. You realize then that there’s remnants of salt on your cheeks. You hadn’t realized that guy had made you cry. Sighing, you nestle deeper in Namjoon.

“So, back to the sage advice, do you really mean I don’t have to work super hard and seek out a good relationship?”

“No, I don’t think so at all. See that’s the tricky part about that passage. I think it could be interpreted that she needed that all along, and it was Aphrodite’s fault for not seeking it out eons ago. It would be easy for the reader to focus on it as something Aphrodite’s done wrong, but I don’t think that’s the point.” He furrows his brows in a pleasant sort of focus. The kind that makes you just want to watch his beautiful brain formulate the way it does.

“You don’t?”

“No. I think that misses the point altogether. The legends of her in the ancient world were set in a backdrop where things were fueled by pettiness. So many male gods in the pantheon were self interested and vicious. She learned to play hardball, and did what she had to do. She didn’t have a confidant to keep her soft. But this poem takes place with an older Aphrodite. One seasoned by time, who no longer needs to prove anything. She’s tired and open, and non-competitive. She knows who she is and has no envy. She’s healed a lot of her relationship wounds and now she just needs to let the people in who are going to love and accept who she’s become. You know, People who won’t try to judge her, or use or forget her or belittle her. People who wont judge her for who she used to be but will accept for who she is….Because it’s finally the right time for that kind of genuine connection.”

You love how analytical his mind is.

“So does that mean you think I’ll find it? Or that it’ll find me rather?” You sneak a glance up at him.

“Yeah, I do.” Something in his heart swells. It makes his eyes feel hazy as he stuffs his crush for you into the background like cheese into the crust of a pizza. You’d never know unless you pulled it apart.

You take his hand in yours, tracing a finger along the crackled fissures lining the inside of his palm, and sit in the silence with him.

“Namjoon?”

“Yes?”

“What do I do… If, say, I was already in good hands all along and totally missed it?”

“Hmm?” He feels his pulse spike along his throat.

Twisting sideways between his legs, you wrap your arms around him. “Joonie, I mean you. We take good care of each other, don’t we?”

His massive hands are fitted to your skin. Slowly, he sinks his palms into your ribs, pressing in firmly as your breath catches. “Yeah,” he whispers, caramel deep. “I think we do.”

“Namjoon, would… it be weird if I tried something?”

“No, I don’t think so,” his brow scrunches. He’s not fully tracking where this is going, but he’s along for the ride.

Slipping a hand around the curve of his cheek, you turn him to face you. Your smile is warm and lovely with melancholy. “I think I’d like to sink into where I am right now. With you.” Your eyes look between his, and Namjoon feels himself collapse in happy relief when you pull him down into your lips. One of his hands finds its way to your face as the other traces secrets into your skin, and he realizes all at once that kissing you feels like coming home.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

This is how the version of you and Namjoon that had always been best friends slips into the beginnings of the version of you and Namjoon that will fall deeply in love.

His hands slide to curve and cup the bottom of your breasts as they fill his palms like water in a cup, and his fingers splay to catch them. The veins rise beneath his skin, but his touch is still velvet against your skin. He lowers himself to whisper caramel thick in your ear.

You shudder as his plush lips graze your skin, and something in you feels like you’re breathing for perhaps the first time. Your face presses into his neck as your hands search for purchase across the tops of his absurdly sculptured legs.

He’s loving and warm and everywhere and your nerves are all lit up. Not in alarm or even in alert. More like in the way a coral reef glows with luminescence when things are balanced and in order. The way nature warms like a halo when it’s in harmony with itself.

Namjoon guides you against his body, precious and safe. His right palm continues to mold into the softness of you as his left unravels from your touch to drag its way up to the waistband of your flouncy shorts. His bottom lip catches in his teeth when his ever observant eyes notice the satin bow looped and tied at your waist. You watch transfixed as he delicately unties the bow, letting the ribbon flutter loose between your thighs.

He stays there, molding to the swells of you, his eyes filled with wonder as he smiles at you. His own breathing is shaky and wrecked and out of sync with you as his chest crashes against your back and his fingers sink deep into your skin. You feel your head loll back, rolling against the curve of his shoulder, pressed against the swelling of his newly sculpted biceps. The beauty etched into his sinew enchants you. You lose yourself, preoccupied as your eyes trace the musculature running in rivers down his arms. When he catches you, stupefied and gaping at him, he flexes and chuckles under his breath at the way he feels your thighs tremble under his hands when you see the muscle shift.

Namjoon runs his tongue over his teeth, genuinely overcome with affection for you, at the joy of tumbling into this with someone who knows him so well. Someone he’s so eager to love. Because he is. He knows it’s too soon to tell you, but he’s loved you for a long time. He’s not sure when it started or how he thought it was ever going to work out, but somehow he’s ended up here, pressed skin to skin and heart to heart with you. So as long as you're here right now, in his lap and in his arms, he’s going to love you.

He could stay in this moment with you forever.

He catches a glimpse of the way your shut lashes flutter when he pulls you against him, how your beautiful brows pinch together. It strikes him then how much he can’t wait to slip his tongue into your full, open mouth so he does. The kisses between you are luxurious in a way he’s never known before as you sink into him in the soundproofed walls of his studio.

Whatever you are to each other is for you and Namjoon to know, and no one else. Not yet. He’ll share you with the whole world once he can. For now, whatever this is, it’s just yours and his. His heart warms as he looks at you, admiring the soft heart that guides you through this life. It’s such a complex thing, so often at odds with itself. He’d like nothing more than to be it’s resting place.

As your eyes begin to flutter open, Namjoon realizes he’d really love for this to be a regular thing.

“You’re amazing.” He whispers, nose to nose with you. He smiles then, eyes happily crinkled around the edges. He can practically feel the way you preen at his praise, body unfolding into something pliant and soft at his encouragement, the complete opposite of its earlier tension. “Have I told you that yet?”

You nod “no” breathlessly, biting your lip and keening into his touch as both his hands slip to hold you against the plump flesh of your outer thighs. You palm his rounded arms and lean against him, lightheaded, happy, limp, and smiling.

Namjoon can’t help but smile into the next kiss as he marvels at you and your beautiful contradictions. Your startling confidence and your deeply soft heart. Your playful banter and your sincere words. Your bravado and your genuine, sensitive kindness. You’re innocence and temptation held in perfect, chaotic balance in one soft, feminine body, like a cosmic vinaigrette that made no sense but tasted delicious nonetheless. It makes him want to dip you in honey and dissolve into the sky.

His fingers are light as they skim across your skin and you hold your breath, releasing it in a shuddery exhale together as your bodies roll together.

“Baby girl.” The words float just outside your consciousness as your skin warms with his breath.

Your body has switched to autopilot, and you’re grateful not to have to control your responses to him. Your hips feel loose, bones replaced instead with something fluid. You feel yourself move with him in gradual tandem rather than consciously orchestrating it. His hands are so big, so rough, so sturdy. It makes you feel a little drunk to know someone so beautiful is caressing you. Someone who truly cares for all of you.

Namjoon tips your face with his, dipping into your mouth to fill the chasm with his welcome, fluid tongue. You fizzle with warmth as you melt with him. With your hands clamped to his legs, his between yours and his tongue in your mouth, you wish you had enough extra air to laugh but you don’t. Instead, you feel the extra joy with no place to go making your body feel as if it’s lifting into the air, like you’re astral projecting . Your brain flickers on for just a second as it tries to process all this euphoria, but you find yourself unable to handle it before the bulb flickers out again, overwhelmed by it all.

Another time perhaps.

In this time and reality, Namjoon’s long fingers swirl lazy and soft across your skin, steady but firm. Your hips glide with him and the moment is perfectly paced- slow but satiating. When your hips kant in tandem he shifts his palm to paw softly at the doughy flesh of your chest, in awe of how beautiful they are spilling out of his hands. Namjoon breaks the kiss to watch you, his forehead against yours as he exhales, dizzy and happy.

You love that. His hair is a mess, and his eyes are glittering and wild. His smile is so tender, so full of something so like love, and you wonder why you never realized you could have had this sort of beautiful experience with him.

“Hey you,” he whispers, tipping his nose into yours, and brushing against the sparkling piercing in your button nose.

You think you might love it when he says that to you. Love the way he puts you at ease. That’s the thing with Namjoon, there’s never pressure or a need for performance or fear. You realize you haven’t been anxious once in this whole exchange. It almost makes you want to sing. You’re so elated you could cry when his warm voice has your senses swimming.

“I know you said before that you don’t always like this, so I’m asking: this once, can I taste your skin? Can I mark you please?” His nose is pressed beneath your ear, panting as his hand splays across your collarbone. “It’s okay if you don’t. You can say no if you—”

“Yes. Oh my… god, yes.”

With a relieved exhale, he dips to kiss your throat like he had that day of the Fourth of July picnic, and you sink into him. Your nails bury into his thighs as he suckles warm and wet at your neck. Namjoon’s mouth is open, breath warm and pressure firm as he drags a steady tongue over your pulse.

It feels … amazing. You realize then that it isn’t that you don’t like neck kisses in general, it’s that you just didn’t see the point in neck kisses that didn’t feel like this. Because in all honesty, Namjoon’s lips on your neck make you feel like maybe you’ve ascended to some astral plane normal mortals aren’t meant to find out about, but he’s taken you there anyway, and a part of you realizes no other man ever had a chance. Maybe that Fourth of July with him all those years ago really did skew your standards. Because right now, his tongue is hypnotic against your skin and for the life you, you couldn’t care less if there are consequences after this moment. You’re in Namjoon’s capable hands feeling nothing but blissed out and safe.

Your breath grows unsteady until you realize his solid hand is overtop yours that rests on his thigh. His fingers interlace with yours as you clutch at his skin, and he drags them overtop your own legs, sinking into your cloud like flesh there.

You beam, knowing how gloriously lightheaded and dizzy you are right now. Namjoon’s lips are ecstasy. You know how easily you bruise- your neck will likely be black and purple and mottled when he’s through with you. You’ll have to hide out with him in his studio for days until it all passes. They may never go away at that rate, because somehow you know that once you see the marks of his splashed across your skin, you won’t have the willpower not to crawl back into his lap and ask for new ones. Because of who they came from. Because of the idea that, in some way, they make you his, and you can’t explain why you like that so much.

The thought alone of the way he may touch you in the future riles you up more than him touching in the now already does. The intensity of both all at once has your air coming in shaky, short and euphoric. Your vision swims with spots and you suddenly want more of him. At some point along the way, Namjoon has shed the rest of his clothes, fully tangled with you, and you pull him until his hips are between yours, and your fingers are lost in his lavender hair.

So you tap his shoulder and instantly, the pressure on your airway is lessening and his face is coming up from where it was adoring the now aubergine skin on your neck. Licking his lips, he twists to meet your eyes, slowing the swirl of his fingers across your skin.

“Yes?” He asks through the sexiest, heavy lidded eyes you’ve ever seen.

“Joonie, can we…” suddenly shy with your words, you bump his hips with yours, and that dimpled smile of his is suddenly beaming down at you. You’d been in the middle of dragging your face against his when he immediately displaces you and reorients you in front of him.

“Off. Take these beautiful things off,” he’s snatching at those goddamn flouncy shorts as you stand and suckling a blossoming purple spot into your hip bone. You crawl back into his lap, and pause, marveling at the man you've always known as roommate and best friend, suddenly giddy at the idea of waking up tomorrow morning to make French toast and water your mutual plants with him as something else instead. It’s different like this, connecting this way with someone who already feels like home. It’s different with him.

He seems to be having a moment of his own as he slips his hands around the dip of your spine and pulls you close, kissing your temples and running his lips across your hairline. He lowers his face until your noses press together and lets out a shuddery, not nervous but sort of, breath as his eyes lower to his hips and you.

You catch sight of his member there between you. It’s a beautiful color really, the painter in you notices. Some cocktail shade of mauve and cocoa that matches his nipples and supple mouth. It’s a little overwhelming to notice it all honestly, so before you let him slip inside you, you lean into him and kiss him. It’s grounding and glorious all at once. In fact, it’s so hypnotic that before you even realize it, he's already slipping into you as your mouths press, until suddenly, he’s breaking the kiss and groaning involuntarily as his hips stutter...

“What is it, Joon? What’s the-“ when you pull back to see if something is wrong, his hand is suddenly in your hair pulling you to him and you gasp. “Fuck, joonie,” you breathe.

He says nothing in reply, too lost in the rush of blood singing in his ears, but his gaze never leaves yours. Those venusian eyes of yours are so tempting - you know it and so does he and he’s happy to comply. His hips roll up, and you're tempted to praise him for knocking your consciousness back into the base of your spine, but you don’t think you could form that many words in succession right now. He catches the way your eyes flutter, the way you melt into him, relying on him to catch you, and he gives in to the way his heart expands in his chest.

“Anything for my Aphrodite,” he whispers, his lips pressed to the glimmer of sweat beginning to cool on your forehead.

He’s so aroused right now that, even with all that liquid surrounding him right now and your velour walls sucking him in, he gets stuck on his slide in. You both still to catch your breath, exchanging an airy laugh with each other as you take in the others fully naked body and swoon respectively.

“I think you’re gonna have to help us out, Joonie,” you chuckle, tipping your head down at where you’re… oh my god, joined together. You can’t believe this is really a thing the two of you do now. More importantly than that though, is it normal for a man to have such a pretty pelvis? Because Kim Namjoon’s cock is so big it’s nearly stuck inside you, and all you can think about is how pretty he looks half fitted into you like this like some janky wooden puzzle piece.

“Breathe for me okay? This will feel better if you’re relaxed. Trust me. I promise.” He kisses your temple, but he laughs too, more a raspy exhale than anything else, and with his eyes glued to the way he disappears inside you, he fluidly rolls the rest of the way up into you.

“Holy fu—“

“Hey, Language,” he teases, making you flush.

“Oh you’re worse than me,” you defend.

“Just barely.” He nips his teeth at your collarbone, not knowing it will trigger the beautiful sensation of you arching your back and subconsciously tightening around him. He stutters a breathy woah as he smiles at you, eying your lips before grazing his thumb across them.

You revel in knowing that he doesn’t need you to be perfect for him. You get the feeling that this experience with him will be special however it ends, which is more than you can say for your last few guys. Namjoon is such a gem. Which you knew, but didn’t know. You wish you’d figured this all out sooner.

When the slightest hint of a frown crosses your face, Namjoon cradles your face lovingly and reminds you “hey, stay with me. We’re right here: you and me. Everything okay?” You nod, and he waits until you elaborate before his hips continue.

“Yeah, I’m just...annoyed with myself for not realizing what a catch you were sooner,” you say honestly.

He smiles until his dimples peek out. “Hey, it worked out when it was supposed to, remember? No rushing. Let the good come to you.”

You smile warmly at him, grateful in innumerable ways for his existence, however it is to be explained, and place your cradled hands over his entirely too beautiful pecs. He flashes a smile so wide his teeth beam back at you as he flexes, slips his fingers around your waist again, and rolls his hips up into you.

His thumbs brush like music against your skin as he carries the effort of setting the pace for you. After spending the pandemic turning into a gym rat, his body is so strong that his thrusts are nuanced, fluid and strong, climbing up into the back of your torso in ways that don’t make sense. You feel like a little boat tossed at sea marveling at the waves.

His lips are on your mouth, his tongue warm and velvet as it drives you. Namjoon does all the work for you, and all that’s asked is that you receive. So you do. You let him do whatever he wants to do to you because, if you've learned anything today, it’s the gift of letting good things comes to you.

You don’t know how long this has all been going on because you’ve entirely lost yourself in Namjoon. In the way he suckles your breasts, kisses your mouth, and manipulates your body until you bounce like a rabbit in his powerful lap. You lean into him, your spine feeling entirely too flimsy to hold yourself up, and he holds you to him, scooping you up as you melt against him.

You don’t know whether you’re coming or going but you definitely know when you’re cumming. It’s like he’s taken you out of your body and set you on a cloud. You feel blissfully, happily, lovingly, irreverently fucked as your sweaty skin sticks to his. You marvel at his stamina even as you feel fully ready to collapse into him and resign from this world.

You sneak a glance at him through your hazy fluttered lids. His face looks almost angry as he watches where your bodies join, but you know that face- he’s just focused- so you focus on how gorgeous his pseudo pissed off jawline is as he works. After a few moments, he feels your gaze on him and looks up. Your eyes are quick to lock onto his and his lashes flutter, his heart rejoining the unspoken conversation as he smiles at you, brown eyes sparkling in their darkness, and warming his face with a flush.

One look, one solid uninterrupted look in your eyes is all it takes then, and suddenly, he’s melting into you.

He collapses back on the couch then, and you’re elated at the way he holds you up. His skin is salty and hot, and You’re grateful for the privacy of his studio despite the open windows because god, do you need the fresh air blowing through on the breeze right now.

He hugs you to him and you hold him back, thighs squeezing his hips as his welcome stickiness trickles it’s way out of you and mingles where you both stay joined. You fall asleep in his arms like that, not rousing until several hours later.

─────────────────────

You press up once you wake and Namjoon does too, shaking out the stiffness from the lack of circulation in his legs. You exchange quiet looks, bashful smiles and silent reminders that everything is just a little bit new.

In the silent haze of the darkness you've both woken up to, he pulls his softest, largest hoodie out of his desk drawer and over your head, blushing with an almost proud, secret smile when he catches a glimpse of your beautifully splotched throat beside the collar. You notice his poorly hidden grin and connect the dots as you flush in the dark. It’s funny, but you dont feel self conscious the way you thought you would— instead your chest soars when he presses a gentle kiss beneath your jaw, turning away before you can see how affected he is.

It’s quiet after that. He orders in food for the both of you and sets about finding a task while you wait for it to arrive. He fishes a drink out of his mini fridge for you and tosses you a bag of chips to snack on as changes out the futon cover in the meanwhile. He turns on the projector in the studio now that it’s the middle of the night and tabs around until he finds something to watch, keeping the studio lights dim as he scoops you into him.

In a lot of ways, it feels like a normal night, except, in reality, it’s not— everything has changed. What it’s become, you’re not sure. All you know is that every time Namjoon looks at you, you feel more and more like a wonder. Your heart feels more full than it possibly ever has and you can barely hold eye contact with him without smiling. It all feels sort of… right.

When the food arrives, you laugh at him when you realize He’s ordered you sushi and French fries which is ridiculous but delicious, and your chest warms from the inside. He ordered himself street tacos and wriggles his nose every time you offer him a dragon roll.

It just might be the happiest night of your life.

Namjoon holds you close to his chest when the food is done. Together you watch an animated movie that’s new to you and old to him. You smile every time he tenses— just before every exciting thing happens. He’s trying so hard not to spoil anything or tell you what’s going to happen, but his body betrays him every step of the way.

He smiles bashfully in the dark until the movie ends. When it does, he shuts the projector down before he pulls you both beneath a fluffy blanket and holds you through the night.

See?” He whispers once all the lights have been turned off, and it’s just you and him in the velvet silence that comes well after midnight. “I told you. Focus on the good things, and more will come.” He presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I think you were right all along, joonie.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you interrupted me today.”

“I am too.”

You smile into his chest, and the world fades away.

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hansolmates · 4 years ago

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OMG an enemies to loves flipped au if u haven’t seen it I HIGHLY recommend it

mean!jk x childhood friend!reader (f) genre/warnings; childhood frenemies to lovers (?), angst, jungkook is a jerk!!! boys stink!!! w/c; 1.2k a/n; bintch i LOVE FLIPPED i read that book in one day when i was a kid!! To this day it’s the pinnacle of all childhood enemies to friends (and eventual lovers? Who knows with those two crazy kiddos hope they’re happy raising their chickens and sycamore tree) basically for those who havent watched in the original one of the main characters is in love w the other main but he hates the attention :(

Jungkook thought his high school reunion would be a walk in the park. After all, he has a great job in the city, a beautiful apartment, and an all around great life.

Ignoring all the litany of text messages asking to meet up, he manages to avoid running into you, floating to a bar in the corner where all his old soccer friends are drinking. He just wants to enjoy the last bit of positivity his childhood has to offer, and it doesn’t involve you.

You’ve already been to his house two times this week, his parents are more than happy to feed you and treat you like a daughter. He’s seen more than enough from you.

Yet from the few hours he settles in his hometown, Jungkook can never get away from a conversation that doesn’t involve you.

His friends do nothing but indulge in all the bullshit Jungkook had to go through in highschool. When you asked him out to every single school dance under the sun, only to be rejected every single time. When you packed egg salad sandwiches for him every single day after soccer practice, only for him to secretly throw them out. When you openly waxed poetic about your crush at the senior poetry slam, even though it was very clearly about Jungkook. Absolutely terrifying.

“Heard she stayed behind to stay with her family,” Taehyung remarks casually after the onslaught of terrible memories of you and Jungkook’s antics, “what a loser. Wouldn’t she want to get out of this run down town?”

In fact, you love this town a whole lot. You’ve said it more than once to Jungkook on your walks home from school, trying to get him to watch the sunset on your favorite tree upon the hill, but he’d simply slam the door in your face.

“Can’t deny she’s cute though,” Jimin shrugs, taking a sip of his mysteriously colored drink. It’s magenta, the color of his recently dyed hair.

Jungkook, feeling confident and sure of himself, feels a sickening need to feed into this negativity. After all, it’s his boys and he needs to impress. “Yeah, she’s pretty but she’s a fucking weirdo,” he grins when all his friends wolf whistle in agreement.

“Would’ve loved to get a lunch made with love though,” Jimin teases, jabbing a pinky in Jungkook’s chest, “those egg salad sandwiches cut into little hearts, absolutely adorable.”

“Please, I’m sure those eggs have salmonella in them. She got them from the neighbor’s dirty farm,” Jungkook waves him off, taking another sip of liquid courage, “I threw that shit out, I was better off starving.”

“Oh yeah! And she hung out with that farm freak Kim Namjoon,” Taehyung howls, slamming his drink on the counter so hard that the ice plops out, “what a pair, those two. He didn’t know his left from right! Dumb as shit.”

“Right,” Your one and only friend Kim Namjoon, one he always assumed by association was just as weird as you. Jungkook shakes his head, finishes his glass and calls haughtily for another one, “Namjoon probably pitied her, after all, they’re two peas in a pod. An idiot and a weirdo, a perfect pair! No clue why she was so obsessed with me.”

Crack!

The floor is littered with glass, sliding all across the bar and onto Jungkook’s leather loafers. Dropping glass is completely normal in a bar late at night, but what makes it horrifying is that you’ve been behind him this entire time.

“You can fucking talk shit about me all you want,” you whisper, and for some strange reason he can hear you loud and clear in the noisy bar, “but how dare you be mean to Namjoon when he’s been nothing but kind to you. Fuck you, Jungkook!”

“W-wait, the glass!” You’re running out with nothing but thin black sandals to protect your feet. Jungkook sounds freaking pathetic, unable to formulate a mature, coherent response as you storm out of the bar. The laughingstock of the school, being followed out by the throws of high school girls and boys that always seemed to bother you just because you made the mistake of falling for the most popular boy in school.

It’s been a few weeks into summer and Jungkook’s worried. No calls, no texts. In fact, you’ve blocked him on every social media possible.

He should be over the moon, he should be happy, he’s free. He should be calling back Jennie, who was eager to hook up with him after rekindling at the reunion. Unfortunately as always, he’s clouded by you.

He never thought you’d cut him off like this. After all, you were like rubber, always bouncing back to him, ever since you were little kids.

The silence is loud, deafeningly loud.

“Honey, why don’t you go see your friend? She made you lunch!”

You’re devious. You don’t even want Jungkook’s parents to know how much he’s royally fucked up. You’re still sending him egg salad sandwiches, with heart cuts and red flower pins holding the layers together. His mom edges his plate closer to his body, silently forcing him to eat since it’s already the afternoon and he’s lazed all day. He only has a few days left of his vacation before he has to return to the city, and he’s done absolutely nothing.

His mom is staring at him expectantly, and he takes a small sandwich from the plate. He groans when he finds that it’s absolutely delicious.

“What are you doing here,” you mumble, digging holes in the dirt with the tip of your sneaker-clad toe.

“I came to make things right,” Jungkook replies softly, not wanting to disturb the peace.

You are right, the sunset is beautiful from the hill. The view overlooks the city he works out, and you can make out the incessant lights and city fanfare. Yet, the city pales in comparison to the warm orange sunset, melting beautifully between the clouds. How could he have missed so much?

When he sits down next to you on the mint green picnic blanket, he tries not to react when you flinch away from him, pointedly putting space between you two.

“I find that hard to believe,” it’s amazing how so much can change from a couple of sentences, “I think you’re just trying to feel good about yourself. I should’ve realized how selfish you really are.”

“Please,” Jungkook reasons, leaning in closer. There’s nowhere for you to move, with your flannel clad body pressed up against the bark of the tree, “I can be better, for us.”

He doesn’t think, he doesn’t breathe. He presses his lips to yours, chaste and sweet. Something that even his high school self would be impressed by. It’s perfect, the sun is setting, the view is impeccable, and you’re all alone in your favorite place in the world with your favorite person in the world. It’s just what you wanted all these years.

And just when Jungkook thinks you’ll kiss him back—

Slap!

His face burns white hot.

“Stay away from me,” you spit, tripping down the hill as you try to get as far away from him as possible.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #btsghostie #btswritingcafe #btswritersguild #kwritersworldnet #jungkook angst #bts fic #bts angst #jungkook drabble

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bangtangalicious · 4 years ago

Text

death valley (m) | part 2

summary: welcome to death valley. once you’re in, there’s no telling whether you’ll make it out alive. a summer internship turns wild with blurry nights of dangerous men, dirty money, and extremely hot sex. you soon get caught in a savage game of greed, power and obsession, only to find out that you are the grand prize

Oh there you go, undress to impress. You can wear the crown but you’re no princess

pairing: ot7 x reader smut ft: drugdealer!jungkook x reader; songwriter!hobi x reader x coworker!namjoon; brief producer!yoongi x reader

genre: smut, slight yandere (building), thriller, gang!au, rockstar!au, fightclub!au,

wordcount: 7.7k

warnings: multiple and explicit smut scenes, rough sex (hair pulling, slight biting-spanking-spitting, manhandling, etc), oral sex (f & m), praise, kidnapping, subtle yandere themes, exhibitionism, threesome, daddy kink, a noncon kiss on the cheek, traumatic themes, crying/fear, wet dream, begging, degradation (use of terms: slut, whore, etc), restraints/handcuffs (in dream), intoxicated sex, fainting, swearing, heavy drug and alcohol abuse, yoongi is just...the absolute sweetest, switch(but mostly sub in this part)!reader, dom!hobi, sub!namjoon, dom!jungkook

(disclaimer) this is a completely fictional. this is not an accurate or realistic portrayal & it does glamorize drugs but i do not condone these behaviors. please read with caution!

Kim Seokjin? The same guy who beat Namjoon up so horribly…was a cop?

It was all you could think about as you drove back to Jimin’s to return his car. What you did not expect was to see a familiar blue haired boy exiting the complex as you rolled into the parking lot.

He met your eyes--first with surprsie, but immediately replaced with guilt. He approached you as you finished parking. You lowered your window, regarding him with spite.

“Jungkook” You hissed.

“Oh hey” He leaned against the door, peering in at you. You noticed him tugging at his sleeves nervously. “What are you doing here?” He seemed a bit flustered, looking around sporadically as if he was almost hiding from someone.

“I stole Jimin’s car. Needed to drop it off”

“Really?” He chuckled lightly before clearing his throat, “Listen I wanted to apologize for not showing up the other d--”

“Did you give Namjoon drugs before the fight?” You asked bluntly. You watched him freeze up, stuttering to find a response. “Wow. You did. You told me you wouldn’t but you did didn’t you?” Jungkook’s expression turned bitter.

“Don’t fucking act like I’m the bad guy. I did it to protect you okay. You don’t even..” He scoffed, “You have no idea what they would have done”

“Protect me from what? Don’t bullshit me you did it for money didn’t you? You fucking liar. Did you even see the state Joon was in after? He fucking trusts you, you’re his friend”

“I didn’t have a choice!” Jungkook screeched, annoyed at your belittling. “He was gonna kill me and he was gonna kill you too. He found out you were coming to meet me”

“Who? Taehyung?” Jungkook gave you a curious look.

“Huh? Taehyung? No not Taehyung...I didn’t even know Taehyung was at the fight” Jungkook opened your car door, leaning in to get a better look at you. But how did Taehyung know you were there to see him then? “You need a ride home right?” You nodded. Jungkook brought out his keys from his back pocket, clicking them so his car beeped. You looked towards the noise to see a black truck parked not too far. “Come on.”

The drive was quiet. You gave him directions to your building, and upon arriving you noticed that his jaw was taught and eyes raging with a mix of anger and fear.

“Why the fuck would you live here? Do you...” He stopped himself again. You couldn’t help but notice how careful he was being with his words. “This is a really shady area. Didn’t you do any research before moving here?”

“There weren’t many options honestly. It was the only place available I could afford. It’s nice enough” Jungkook frowned slightly but didn’t push it. You invited him inside for coffee in exchange for the ride.

Jungkook sat at your kitchen island, watching you with great interest as you prepared drinks. As you poured the coffee, something came over him. You looked so pure. So innocent. He couldn’t help himself. Jungkook came up behind you, placing his hands gently on your hips.

You felt his lips press against the back of your head. You loved how warm he felt, numbing the pulsing fear that was building in your chest. He began to kiss your neck softly.

“Sorry. I’m just so fucking glad you’re okay” His breath was hot against your collar bone, making your whole face heat up. You gripped the counter, eye fluttering shut as you savored his touch. “I really really wanted to see you again”

“Oh I bet” You turned to face him, bodies still pressed together. “Still remember how whiny you were” Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“I still remember how much you fucking loved it”

It was all it took for the sexual tension to come crashing down. You pulled Jungkook by his shirt towards you, lips finding each other like magnets. He moaned right away as his hands grabbed your ass and lifted you onto the counter top, coffee spilling into the sink. He was starving for you, kissing you desperately, like he missed you--he did miss you--he was trying to chase a feeling and groaned in frustration when he couldn’t quite find it.

“Holy fuck, Jungkook” You pulled back to breathe, noticing his blushed cheeks, panting heavily as his eyes blinked at you with pure infatuation. He swiftly pulled off his shirt, revealing his tight muscles, arms covered in intricate tattoos all the way to his fingers. Without thinking your hands trailed over his markings with interest. Jungkook smiled.

“Like what you see?” He then pulled down your shorts and panties and watched them drop to the floor. He licked a stripe up your thighs, hands sliding under your shirt as he found your breasts. You could feel him smile against your tingling skin as you squirmed beneath him. “So fucking sensitive aren’t you baby” He slowly ran his soft fingers over your nipples, circling them teasingly as his nose brushed against your cunt.

“Stop teasing me dammit” You whined, bucking you hips up as he pinched you. Your body felt hot all over, and Jungkook watched with interest at the way your heat seemed to be calling out for him through the soft squelching of you clamping down.

“Shhh...patience baby” You could feel his breath against your folds, driving you wild at the unsatisfying stimulation. He spit out, allowing his saliva to glide into your gaping pussy before shoving his tongue into you. He flattened his tongue, running it up to your clit and sucking harshly.

Heat soared through your body and you twitched as he rolled his tongue in, drinking you up deliciously. He opened his mouth wide, allowing his tongue to pump even further inside of you. You could feel his thick, plush lips against you--only adding to the amazing sensation.

His fingers left your nipples, opting instead to clutch around your breasts. Your hand grabbed a fist full of his hair, tugging his face further into you as you strained your neck to try and get a better look at him, but Jungkook pressed his hands down on you, making sure you didn’t get up.

His tongue jutted into you, flickering around your core harshly, searching for a place that would drive you wild. When he found it, you cried out, shoving his face down as much as you could.

Jungkook laughed slightly, taking care to slowly lick away at that spot, rolling his tongue oh so slightly as he watched you close your eyes and bite your lip--barely able to contain your gasps of pleasure.

His mouth moved across your splayed out body, pushing your top so it piled over your breasts as he began to kiss them. His wet pillowy lips teased you with pleasure before he sucked harshly, letting his teeth graze against your sensitive mounds. He hopped up onto the counter so he could climb over you, kicking his sweats off in the meanwhile.

“Fuck, I’ve been craving you so fucking bad” His hands found yours, fingers intertwining as he pushed your arms out to your sides. He lowered his face until it was inches from yours and grinned. You licked your lips, signaling Jungkook to engulf you in another sloppy kiss. Your mouths were barely even on each other as your tongues fought for dominance, messy moans and whimpers mixing with the sound of your drenched folds rubbing just barely against Jungkook’s hardening cock. He let your hands go to bring them behind your head as he deepened the kiss, yours wrapping around his neck in response.

“Ready baby? Ready for my big fucking cock” He tugged you hair back harshly making you wince in pain as he propped himself up and lined his cock up with your entrance. With one quick and heavy stride he thrust deep into you, pulling your head back even further as his thick cock pushed its way through.

“There it is. So tight and warm for me fuck, pussy takes me in so fucking well” He thrusted again with so much force he barely was moving his cock. He was just digging further and further into you making you scream out in a mix of pain and pleasure. Your hands traced his back muscles as he tried to soothe you with light kisses to your neck, but you couldn’t help crying out with every single one of his short thrusts. His hair was sweaty, strands falling over his face and brushing against yours.

He propped himself up fully then, bringing his hands to your neck and gripping it tightly as his thrusts continued. You choked out as Jungkook tilted his head back in pleasure. You couldn’t help but notice his double pierced earrings, which turned you on so much you fell apart.

You moaned out as your orgasm shook through you, pussy messily leaking onto Jungkook’s cock. He groaned at the way you tightened around him, causing him to curse loudly and quicken his pace.

He released your neck, allowing you to gasp for air as he took your legs and pushed them forward, allowing him to pump you at a deeper angle. He let his fingers run over your lips before shoving two of them down your throat and making you gag on them.

He pulled out, rolling onto his back as he felt himself reaching his own high. His hand furiously pumped his cock which looked like it was ready to burst. You moved onto your side and began to kiss his neck, helping him on.

“Come on baby. Cum for me. So close baby” You cooed at him. He looked deep into your eyes as his hands continued moving rapidly. “You’re doing so good baby...come on” He began to whimper and you grinned. “Such a needy baby aren’t you Jungkook. Hm?” You cupped his face and kissed him again. You felt him bite down on your lip harshly, muffling a cry as his hot seed splattered over his stomach.

Jungkook parted from you, sighing deeply as his arms wrapped around you and pulled you close. His cum spreading all over. He nuzzled your neck affectionately “Let me stay over. Just to make sure you’re safe for a few nights”

Your eyes widened, but you saw how pleading his expression was. “Why do you not think I’d be safe?”

“Because you living here means they know where you are. And I swear to god if they laid a finger on you I...I don’t know if I could handle it. Please baby"

“Who Jungkook? Who are you talking about?”

“I...” He looked away, “I don’t know. But he’s dangerous”

When the morning came, Jungkook was sprawled out on the other side of your bed. He looked so peaceful that you didn’t have the heart to wake him up. Tonight was the night Namjoon wanted you guys to go out. Back to fucking Death Valley.

You had been dreading it, but after the events of the last few days you really needed a distraction. Hobi had conveniently avoided being alone with you ever since the two of you hooked up. It drove you crazy. He was acting so incredibly normal, as if nothing happened. But you wanted him.

Namjoon greeted you when you arrived at work, sitting in the conference room, scribbling away on his notepad. He was still not quite his usual self. You told him you ran into Jungkook and that he was going to be staying with you for a while. “He says I’m not safe there”

Namjoon clicked his pen absentmindedly, “Wait where did you say you lived?”

You told him, explaining again that you really didn’t have any other options, and watched his eyes go wide. “Uh yeah that’s not the best place to live. Lot of um...dangerous activity” He searched something on his phone. “Y/n, there are so many better apartment listings, what do you even mean?”

“I dunno. When I moved here it seemed like everything else had been rented out” You shrugged.

Hobi entered the studio with assignments. He looked great, wearing a large oversized bowling shirt over cargo shorts. It showed just enough of his chest. “Morning guys! Excited to see you all tonight. Y/n, you’ll be working with Joon again while I handle the...”

“Actually do you mind if I talk to you privately outside” Stop fucking avoiding me. You thought bitterly. Hobi’s face fell slightly. You went into the hallway, expecting him to follow. When you had him alone, he plastered on a forced smile.

"Did you need something?” You wanted to laugh at how clearly fake he was being, trying to act like his usual cheery self.

“Are we just not going to talk about that night?” The facade dropped. Hobi sighed, running a hand through his hair as he thought deeply about how to respond to you.

“We were buzzed. It’s not professional Y/n. Let’s just forget it happened”

“But I” You began to protest, but Hobi brought up his hand for you to stop.

“End of discussion. Work relationships are not allowed here. I’m sorry” His eyes scanned your figure, a look of regret flashed across his face as he quickly turned around and left.

Sitting in the dive bar itself was something you had yet to do, but you found yourself enjoying the ambiance. The music was perfect, not too loud as Namjoon began blabbering away about his music next to you on the circular leather seats of your booth. Sure, you were also glad to finally spend some time out of the office with Namjoon that didn’t involve him almost dying. But you were here for one reason and one reason alone. To get back in bed with Hobi.

Unfortunately, he was numb to your obvious advances, brushing you off as a tease as you’d find reasons to touch him, lean against him or play with his hair. Finally you gave up with a pout, downing a shot before refocusing your attention onto Namjoon. If Hobi didn’t want you, you were more than happy to show him what he was missing.

“Joonie...” You murmured, leaning into him. “Do a shot with me” Namjoon pinched your cheek affectionately and agreed. You poured a shot of tequila for him, lining up salt on your forearm and sitting ready for him with a lime wedge in your mouth.

Namjoon downed the bitter liquid and you couldn’t help but twitch at the feeling of his tongue gliding seamlessly up your arm before his lips were on yours, taking the wedge from you.

Hobi’s jaw clenched slightly as he watched the two of you play. Namjoon returned the favor, but you took it a step further, sliding into his lap so you could have easier access to the lime in his mouth. Lingering by his lips a bit too long for Hobi’s liking.

“Jungkook suggested these for tonight” Namjoon brought out a few pills, laying them on the table. “I only got a little bit, but he said it would be fun. If we wanna do more we can just go to your place after and hang too, I’m sure he has stuff with him”

Hobi’s head turned fast, he raised his eyebrows incredulously “What?”

“Yeah” You said nonchalantly, “Jungkook is staying at my place for a while.” You shrugged it off like it was no big deal but it was obvious that Hobi was pissed. Namjoon quickly popped the pill.

“Will you feed one to me Joonie?” You stuck your tongue out. Namjoon grinned and gave you the pill, watching as your tongue curled in.

“You’re such a little flirt aren’t you” Namjoon nuzzled your neck, not crossing any lines as his hands remained on your back. You giggled, his soft hair tickling you slightly, “And you smell so damn good” He muttered soft enough so only you could hear it.

Hobi watched as you began whispering into Namjoon’s ear. He couldn’t hear what the two of you were saying but seeing you curled up into him like that had him fuming inside. He grabbed the tequila bottle and took a long swig from it before slamming it back onto the table. Both you and Namjoon turned around.

Hobi leaned across the booth to pull you off of Namjoon’s lap and into his. He didn’t even care about the way Namjoon’s eyes widened as he clenched your ass.

“Hi daddy” You smirked, tracing lines up his chest. He jerked you forward so that you were sitting right where he wanted to feel you.

“Stop teasing me.” He growled. He smacked you ass harshly.

“You’re the one being a tease” You snapped right back. “Come on I know you want to.” You traced your finger down his chest, biting your lip slightly. Hobi watched you with dark eyes as you pulled at his shirt playfully before getting off of him and climbing onto the table.

An upbeat song played through the room, and Hobi watched wide-eyes as you stood up on the table and began to sensually sway your hips. You let your hips drop low, making sure to bend your ass out in front of Namjoon as Hobi began fuming. Namjoon took another swig of his drink and raised his eyebrows at you.

“Joonie” You cooed, getting on the table on all fours and crawling towards him. “Kiss me” You curled your finger, motioning for him to come to you. Like a mesmerized puppy he did as told, finding your lips slowly. You could sense his uncertainty. You deepened the kiss, allowing your tongue to push through his mouth. You maneuvered until you were back in his lap, and for a moment you forgot that Hobi was even there. Namjoon tasted bitter but so incredibly sweet at the same time. As his hands began running down your thighs you couldn’t help but moan into him lightly.

Hobi gritted his teeth, jaw clenched to the point where he could just burst. He got up and dragged you off of Namjoon harshly, giving you whiplash as your ass landed harshly onto the seat. Hobi dropped to his knees and yanked off your bottoms. Without any warning he spread your legs wide open to see that you were getting wet.

“Who is this for huh?” Hobi growled looking up at you. His eyes were enraged, you almost felt scared but you were too turned on by the situation to care. He turned to Namjoon who was startled and unsure of what to do. “You see this Joon?” Namjoon nodded slowly “This is for me. Got that?” He nodded again, gulping. Hobi’s eyes softened slightly, “Do you wanna taste? Wanna see how yummy her pretty pussy is?” Namjoon looked at you for permission and you nodded furiously.

He slowly lowered himself onto the floor next to Hobi, taking your thigh into his hand to spread you out further.

“God just look at that” Hobi licked his lips, taking his fingers to loosely run up and down your folds, showing Namjoon how wet you were by sloshing around. Hobi gathered your arousal onto his finger and brought it to Namjoon’s lips “Go ahead. Taste” Namjoon opened his mouth, and you watched as he licked off Hobi’s finger. “Do you like it?” He nodded. “Good. Eat her out. I’m gonna go get some real action” Hobi slid back into his seat next to you and his hands quickly slid under your shirt. He brought his face in close to you, nibbling your jaw between kisses. “Aww fuck baby girl, you love this don’t you. Little attention whore aren’t you hm?”

Namjoon’s tongue ran slowly over your clit and Hobi’s warm hand covered both your breasts. Every fiber of your being felt so incredibly stimulated. You were a heaving mess.

“Hobi” You whined, pulling his face towards yours to kiss him harshly. He could feel the way you craved him in your kiss, as you eagerly tried to rile him up, letting your kisses get sloppier by the second.

“Get on the table” He mumbled. “Sit pretty for me yeah?” You did, spreading your legs for him as you leaned back slightly. Namjoon got up, your juices trickling down his lips. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and the smirk he left after had you shivering in anticipation.

“What do you think Joon?” Hobi grinned, palming your raw cunt soothingly, “She ready for some cock?” Namjoon didn’t miss a beat, he unbuttoned his pants, allowing his cock to slide out. He stroked himself lazily as he gazed at you. You stared right back at him, enjoying the way his face was blushed red as he jacked off.

“Hurts” He mumbled. You pouted at him empathetically.

“Oh you poor thing” You reached out to stroke his cock, watching him let out a shaky moan at your touch. “Want me to kiss it better baby?” Namjoon nodded and you heard Hobi chuckle in amusement. You opened your mouth wide, softly tugging his cock so he knew to come towards you. Namjoon inserted his girthy length in your mouth and your tongue rolled over his thick skin, savoring the salty bitterness. You hollowed your cheeks as you began to move your mouth up and down, sucking him relentlessly.

In the meanwhile, Hobi had pulled out his own cock and pulled your hips to the edge of the table. He slapped his cock against your pussy as you choked on Namjoon. You could feel the warm throbbing head push against your sensitive folds, causing you to squirm with a desire for more. Your pussy clenched on nothing, causing more arousal to seep out onto his cock.

You choked on Namjoon’s dick as Hobi sunk into you, pulling your hips in close as Namjoon’s cock went further down your throat. You gagged incessently, causing Namjoon to pull out with concern. Hobi began fucking you harshly, thrusting into you with no remorse whatsoever. “Fucking whore can’t even suck cock right?” He scoffed at you playfully, “You really gonna leave him hanging after all he did for you?”

You shook your head dumbly, "Come back baby let me suck you good” Namjoon cursed softly as you pulled him back into your mouth, taking your time to let your tongue wrap around every crevice of his girthy cock. You let your hands snake up his thighs, allowing you to fondle him and stroke him while you bobbed your head back and forth, keeping your eyes glued to his, which was the thing that had him falling apart the most.

“You’re so...pretty” Namjoon exhaled. He was high but you could see the sincerety in his eyes as if he just had some sort of epiphany. It made you want to suck him even faster, giving this adorable boy all the pleasure in the world like he fucking deserved.

Hobi noticed you diverge your attention, glaring darkly at the way Namjoon was looking at you. He pulled out and grabbed your hair, pulling you off of Namjoon’s dick, saliva stringing from your lips.

He made you look straight at him as he brought his face to yours “You made your point okay. Your mine now you got that?” He growled, shoving you back on the table. Your head hit the glass surface painfully and you felt dizzy. Hobi flipped you over and gripped your ass firmly, letting his nails dig into your plump skin.

“Hit her” He ordered Namjoon, who gave him an uncomfortable look. “Don’t you like her cute ass? Hit it. Hit the bitch like she fucking deserves. Be a fucking man” You could hear the genuine anger in Hobi’s voice, and it was turning you off.

“I...I’m good. You go ahead if you want” Namjoon said softly, spacing out slightly as he watched the scene unfold. Hobi laughed bitterly, leaning over you so his chest pressed against your back.

“You see that baby girl? I know how you like it, and I’m the only one who can fucking give it to you good, you understand?”

“Yes--” You muttered, wincing as Hobi smacked your ass again harshly. You crooned at the stinging aftermath.

“Yes?” Hobi bit your ear and tugged it harshly. “Don’t you know how to address me by now baby girl?”

Smack. “Yes daddy.” You squealed. Hobi hummed in satisfaction.

“That’s right baby. Don’t you fucking forget it” He shoved his cock back inside you, filling you to the brim. “Fucking slut. Letting me fuck you like this out in the open. Anyone can just see what a whore you are for me. But you love that don’t you huh? You wanna show everybody just how goddamn much you want daddy’s cock isn’t that right baby?” He began to move, thrusting into you quickly as his cock began twitching inside you. “I asked you a fucking question” He snapped, pushing your face down onto the table.

“Yes daddy” You cried out “I love it. I love your cock daddy, need it...” You sighed out as your felt yourself edging on the cusp of your orgasm. As rough as he was, he was right. You loved the way Hobi fucked you. “Please cum in me daddy, want your cum.”

Hobi sucked at your jaw “I know baby. All you ever fucking want is daddy’s cum, I know that. I know you want me to pump you so full of it, fuck my cum into you like the cockslut whore you are. All for me, and only me”

“Yes daddy. Only you. I promise” With that, Hobi came like a flood, bursting his load deep inside you. You whined, losing your own orgasm as he finished just slightly too soon. Before getting off of you, he grabbed the bottle of liquior and turned your face, pouring the alcohol into your mouth. You chocked as the liquid filled your throat, and he stopped, allowing you to gulp it down.

You felt it hit you right away, finding yourself unable to move as Hobi got off of you.

“Go ahead Namjoon. Fuck her” Hobi fixed his pants back up. You couldn’t see--your vision began to blur as you felt Namjoon lean down to your face.

“Y/n? Are you okay? Is it too much?” His words were slurred. You smiled at him lazily, nodding despite your inability to comprehend what he was even asking you. You were so tired.

The glass started to burn against you as you felt yourself moving back and forth against it. Where were you? You giggled, eyes drooping shut. You heard your name being called. Was it in pleasure or concern? Who knows. You faint.

Your head pounds with pain as you wake up. The first thing you notice is that you cant see anything--it’s absolutely dark. There was something covering your eyes. You tried to reach for it and take it off but a rough sensation at your wrists holds you back and you realize they are tied together behind you over some sort of railing.

“Hello?” You panicked. “Namjoon!? Hobi?!” You tried to tug yourself out of the restraints but they wouldnt budge. You could still feel the weary after effects of the pills you took, everything seemed slow and you mind was freaking out at the lack of light, losing any sense of coherent reality.

“I’m here y/n” Your heart flooded with relief as you heard Hobi’s familiar voice echo through the room, “Don’t worry you’re gonna be okay, just calm down”

“I’m here too” You heard Namjoon’s voice. He sounded like he was much closer to you, only a few feet away. “What the fuck is going on?” He growled and you hear him trying to break the ropes on his hands with brute strength.

“Give up Namjoon” A new voice entered the room. It was so familiar but you were too dazed to place it. You suddenly feel something warm close to you, a scent too close for your liking. You squirmed as you felt a hand touch your face.

“Stop! Who are you!?” You tried to turn yourself away from him but he gripped your jaw, fingers digging into your mouth slightly. The person didn’t say any words but you could feel them getting closer.

“Get the fuck away from her” Namjoon growled, tugging at the ropes repeatedly to no avail.

You gulped as you felt a nose against your cheek. You felt as though someone had punched the air out of your gut, as a pair of lips carefully made contact with your skin. They lingered, and you flinched away as fast as you could. You heard a slight chuckle as the heat from the body seemed to disappear. He was leaving. Thank God.

You close your eyes to try to focus on the sound of his footsteps, heart racing as you hear them move in Namjoon’s direction. Suddenly you heard a loud slap--it sounded like the man just hit Namjoon. Your eyes clenched as you heard Namjoon wince in pain.

You hear more shuffling, and suddenly there are more footsteps. It seemed that more people had come into the room. “Fuck. Get your fucking hands off of me” You hear Namjoon’s voice getting further away.

“Namjoon?” You cry out. You hear a door slam shut and suddenly there is silence again. “Hobi?” You’re petrified, body trembling as the silence persists. You were alone. What were they going to do to you? You began to cry, your sobs echoing throughout with no one to hear.

You had no idea when you fell asleep, but woke up to loud knocking. “Hello! Is anyone in here?” You heard a door open. “Holy shit, Y/n?” You craned your neck to try to recognize the voice, but you were so exhausted and hungover that you couldn’t even think. You felt hands at your wrists untying the rope. The next thing you know light flooded your vision. You squinted at the sudden stimulus, waiting for your vision to adjust so you could see your savior.

“Jin?” You asked in shock, gaping at the gorgeous man in front of you. Of course. He’s police. I’m safe now. You sighed in relief as tears began to flow from your eyes again. Jin crouched down in from of you, caressing your hands where the rope had dug in slightly. You threw your free hands around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. “S...sorry I just” You stuttered between your cries. Jin softly stroked your back.

“It’s okay. You’re safe now. You’re safe with me”

He let you cry in his arms for a while before you finally were able to gather yourself. He helped you up, holding your hand as the two of you left what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse of some sort. “Namjoon...uh...RM, and a coworker of ours, named Hoseok, they were both with me but someone took them away” You informed him, “Do you know where they are?” Jin stopped momentarily, and you noticed him sigh.

“Not yet. But we’ll find them okay. It’s a little complicated, let’s get in the car and I’ll tell you everything”

Jin held your shoulders down some stairs as you made it to the parking lot. He assisted you in getting into his blue sedan.

“Your house isn’t far from here, I’ll drop you home after we talk” He informed you as he got into the drivers seat. You curled your legs up into yourself, hugging your knees to your chest for comfort.

“How do you know who I am? Why do you know so much about me?”

“It’s my job to know.” He smiled slightly. “Listen. I’m not exactly sure why, but my intel tells me that you’re being used as some sort of bargaining chip”

You blinked at him in utter confusion, “Bargaining...for what? Who the fuck?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know you hang out with gang members Y/n” Jin chuckled. Your eyes widened.

“Uh...I didn’t...” Well. Jungkook made sense. And sure, then there was Jimin. And if you thought about it, it did made sense that Namjoon was also caught up in something like that--it would explain a lot.

“I understand that you’re close with Park Jimin” You frowned. The last thing you needed right now was to talk about him of all people. “So don’t play dumb with me. You’re not in any trouble, just tell me what you know”

“Dude...I’m new here okay. I don’t have any information about anything alright. Shouldn’t you know who’s betting on you?” You scoffed. Jin raised his eyebrows.

“Betting? Who said anything about betting?” He smirked as you gaped at him, realizing your slip.

“Oh...I mean...”

“My intel tells me you saw something you shouldn’t have. That’s why you’re being used by some people...possibly another gang...to blackmail the gang who runs Death Valley, and why you’re on his radar”

“Who’s radar?” Was it the same guy from earlier? Or maybe the guy you had seen kicking Namjoon? Or the guy who tied up Jungkook? Was it all the same person?

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.” Jin stated matter of factly, “No one knows who he is. Well...I think Park Jimin knows who he is, so I have a proposition for you.”

“You want me to snitch” You rolled your eyes. You didn’t love that your new associates seemed to be such dangerous people, but you weren’t the type of person to go try to get anyone in trouble for their own business. “No thanks”

“You’re really not safe Y/n. If we work together, I can make sure no harm comes to you” You thought back to Jungkook’s warnings, smiling inwardly knowing that you had the strong boy waiting for you back at your apartment. He would be able to protect you with no issue, you didn’t need to get involved with the cops.

“No thanks. I’ll be okay. Please just take me home” Jin sighed, tapping the wheel of his car quickly as if he were irritated.

“Fine. If you change your mind” He pulled out his wallet and handed you a business card, “Call me”

Jin dropped you home and you slowly tried to walk your way to the elevator, slumping inside it once the doors slid open. A few floors up the elevator halted, opening to reveal none other than Min Yoongi.

“Y/n?” He asked curiously, observing your chaotic state. You had no idea how you looked, but you were sure it was not at all presentable. You groaned internally. Yoongi probably thought you were a trainwreck. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh I--” You straightened yourself up as much as you could, brushing your clothes off and trying to fix your hair urgently. Yoongi looked absolutely stunning, even outside of work. It was refreshing to see him in a simple hoodie and joggers, his earrings still driving you wild. “I love...LIVE. I live here” You internally screamed at yourself for your awkwardness. Yoongi didn’t break a smile, he simply observed you curiously. He glanced at the elevator navigation and pressed a number for the floor above yours.

“I didn’t know you live in the same building as me.” He stated, “I can give you a ride to work sometime if you’d like”

“Oh! I’d love that...I mean, that would be great you know. Saving the environment and all that” You chuckled, twirling your hair. Yoongi raised his eyebrows at you. His eyes were amused but still no hint of a smile.

The elevator arrived at your floor, and Yoongi watched as you scrambled to get yourself out of there. “I’ll see you at work, Y/n.” He nodded in your direction. You smiled sheepishly.

The door had almost slid shut but your eyes met his. His gaze was so intense on you, you felt almost like a prey in front of a predator. You finally see a slight tug of a smile as you gulp. How can a human being be so goddamn FINE?

You finally make your way to your door and realize you don’t have your keys. Fuck they probably stole them. But why did they leave my wallet? You knocked on the door.

No response.

“Jungkook?” You called out, rapping at the door franticly. “Fuck” You muttered, leaning against the door in defeat. You were so incredibly tired, you just wanted to take a fucking nap. Maybe I can crash at Yoongi’s? Would that be unprofessional? You limped your way back to the elevator. Arriving on his floor you realized you didn’t know which room was his.

You laughed, thinking about how fucking helpless you had been recently. Calling out for all these men to help you. This wasn’t who you were. What the fuck happened to you? When did you become so weak? “Yoongi?” You shouted through the hall, hoping that someone would come out, and if it not him they could direct you to him. A door opened. Funnily enough the room was at the same spot as yours, just on a different floor.

“Y/n?” Yoongi was shirtless, a towel around his neck and his sweats still on. You ogled at the way his chains sat on his bare chest, and so badly wanted him to turn around so you could see his tattoos. “Everything okay?”

“Uh” You scratched the back of your neck nervously, “Sorry if this is unprofessional” Don’t be sorry. You’re a bad bitch. This shit doesn’t phase you. “I mean. I got fucking locked out. You mind if I crash at your place, I’m just really tired and I had a really long night, I can barely even--”

Yoongi nodded, slipping back into his apartment so fast you didn’t get a chance to see him turn around. You pouted, but followed him inside.

He seemed to have gone to the bathroom. You carefully closed his door and looked around. His apartment was really nice. As expected, he had lots of awards on display, fancy speakers and expensive looking furniture. What was surprising to you was the lack of drugs. Jimin always had a mess of pills on his kitchen table, and you had assumed all music industry people were like that. You wondered if Yoongi used anything. He probably didn’t, considering how goddamn perfect he is.

“You can sleep in my room if you want” Yoongi emerged, now clothed, again to your disappointment. He fiddled with a watch on his wrist. Hey that’s the same watch as-- “I need to step out for a bit. Make yourself at home” He gestured towards his bedroom door. You nodded, thanking him as you watched him grab his own keys and head out the door.

Just as the door closed your phone began to ring. You hadn’t even realized you still had it. You should’ve just called Jungkook you dumbass. You regretted drinking as much as you had last night. Glancing at your phone, your heart skipped a beat seeing that it was Hobi calling.

“My god, are you okay?” You cried out, answering immediately.

“Where are you?”

“I’m at my apartment. What happened, are you guys okay?”

“Yes we’re fine. Namjoon got beat up pretty bad...no idea what that was about, but then Jungkook found us while he was out finishing a deal. Are you okay?" You gulped.

“Yeah I’m okay. I’m glad you both are safe. Are you going to report it to the police?”

You heard Hobi chuckle, “I don’t think that would be a good idea. It was probably Jimin or somebody involved in all that fight betting, gambling bullshit. I really need to knock some sense into Namjoon’s head and get him out of that scene” You sighed. You never wanted to go through anything like this ever again. It was probably best if you stayed away from Death Valley for good.

“Y/n...I” Hobi inhaled sharply, “I wanted to say I’m sorry for ignoring you. I wont anymore okay. Life is too short for bullshit. Do you...wanna go out sometime? Like on a date?” You felt a warm hug envelop your heart as a smile spread across your lips. You giggled.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Good.” You could hear his goofy smile somehow, “See you soon baby girl” You shut your phone off and make your way into Yoongi’s room. It was a stunning room--super high tech with LED strip lights and a huge mirror wall across the bed. You threw yourself onto the inviting mattress, burying your face in his soft pillows as you finally let the heavy weight of sleep take you over.

Hands trailed up your legs, grabbing at your bare ass cheeks and pulling them apart. “Fuck” You heard you felt a slap to your skin. The hands gripped your waist, pulling you back. You felt a sharp pain in your shoulders as you realized your arms were spread wide out, handcuffed to something. A hand grabbed the back of your head and shoved it down into the pillow, muffling your breath. You tried to groan out as you felt a cock push inside you “Yoongi” You whined, “Yoongi I want more”

“You’re beautiful” You hear him say, making you smile internally while your face continued to get smushed further into the pillow. You choked out as he quickly began thrusting into you.

“Fuck” You cried out as a pleasure unlike anything before hit you “More...please” You urged him on “Faster Yoongi....please go faster I need” You panted, barely able to breathe “I need you...please”

You woke up with a start, blinking as the early rays of the morning sun filtered through tinted windows. You sighed, feeling your pussy clench in defeat as your dream ended a bit too soon. You were in Yoongi’s bed, however you were tucked in, and you realized that you were wearing different clothes. His clothes. You looked around but Yoongi wasn’t there. Checking your phone, you see more missed calls from Namjoon along with a long array of texts that you knew youd have to read eventually. You crawled out of bed, looking at yourself in Yoongi’s large mirror wall.

You walked out of his bedroom to see him sitting at his kitchen counter, typing away on his laptop with a Redbull and a bagel out by him. You noticed that he was wearing glasses, and that his hair was still messy from sleep. He regarded you as you entered the kitchen.

“Sleep well?” He asked kindly. You nodded. “Would you like something to eat? You seemed pretty hungover. Better get some food into your system” He pushed the bagel towards you. You hadn’t realized it but you were starving. You ravished the bagel rapidly, not even caring that your boss was right in front of you. Or that you were literally in his house wearing his clothes. “Is everything okay Y/n? You seemed frazzled yesterday” You stared at him, mouth stuffed with food.

“Um” You quickly swallowed, “I actually got kidnapped” Yoongi furrowed his eyebrows with concern.

“Come again?”

“Yeah. Do you know Death Valley? I was there with” Should you tell him you were there with coworkers? Probably not “...Friends and we blacked out and someone literally kidnapped us. But luckily the cops found us”

“Cops?”

“Yeah. I didn’t get hurt or anything but it was just scary” Yoongi closed his laptop and stared at you.

“I’m...so sorry you had to go through that. Please, feel free to take the day off if you need to, that sounds really traumatic” You shook your head, but your heart glowed at how sweet he was. Behind that cold expression, you realized that he actually seemed like a really caring guy.

“Thanks Yoongi, but I’m okay. I’m strong” You affirmed more to yourself than to him. Yoongi’s eyes flashed with amusement at your statement “I think I’ll head back to my place, I uh...can call a friend to let me in”

“Alright. Just take care of yourself okay?” You thanked him, before grabbing your things and heading out.

Upon reaching your own apartment door you knocked again, hoping Jungkook made it home in one piece.

“Y/n, is that you?” You sighed with relief that you were finally going to be let inside. The door swung open.

“Thank God, I literally--” You froze.

Standing in front of you was not Jungkook.

No.

It was Taehyung.

ᐊ——[ previous ] series navi | masterlist | [ next ]——ᐅ

a/n: yoongi really be melting our hearts like butter. ha. i dont know if my hints and stuff are like...making sense? I hope so lol. more jimin next week i promise! and all you jin and yoongi people just TRUST ME. it’s all coming. ;) as always, thank you for reading & have a great day <3 part 3′s smut pairs are up on the series masterlist! see you next week ;)

taglist: @imluckybitches @gee-nee @missseoulite @hcneybees @kooookie @queenmasterxx @crustycaitlin @virgo-and-libra @un2-verse @winter-melontea @equivocacies @infernal-alpaca @shrimpmsg @meowmeowyoongles @rjsmochii @liltangerined @littlrmills14-blog @issysor @arandomblackgirl @adoringinsanity @giadalin @jeontier

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lavishedinjimin · 5 years ago

Text

Crybaby (m)

— synopsis: he calls you crybaby, crybaby. but you don’t fucking care.

↳ Pairing: jungkook x reader ↳ genre: smut ↳ word count: 9.6k ↳ warnings: dom!jk, sub!oc, oc is small in height, rough unprotected sex, oc cries a fuck ton bc sex is too good and cock is too big for her, daddy!jk, little!oc, choking, spanking, intense dirty talk lol are we surprised, jk’s lowkey a sadist, SIZE KINK, big dick kook, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, face fucking, name-calling, degradation, taehyung makes an appearance because why not, this is just one big porn without plot thank you

cute people: @seokjoontae @gwccivante @pompurii

A/n: Before you start reading, the OC that I imagine in this oneshot is small in height, so if you read words like ‘little’, ‘small’, and ‘tiny’, please don’t get offended or feel hurt! It’s just the way I pictured this OC, but you can completely ignore that if you want and paint your own. Everyone’s beautiful in whatever shape or form! <3

It was a cold, rainy day and you were walking along the paved sidewalks. Holding onto your umbrella with both hands as you tried to prevent it from folding upwards from the harsh wind, the only thing that was keeping you going -- was café that you’d always go to before work.

It was called Jeon’s Kitchen. It was a café that was super underrated for its location was hidden from the busy streets, yet it served the best coffee and pastries that you’ve ever tasted in your whole years of living.

You push the door of the café and the bell rings, signaling your arrival. The fresh smell of baked bread and coffee instantly hits your nose, and you almost roll your eyes back from its heavenly scent. Folding your wet umbrella close, you greet the man from the other side of the glass counter. “Good morning Mr. Jeon!”

“Ah, Y/n, here you are,” he smiles back at you, his forehead wrinkling as he wipes his wet hands on his apron. “Good morning to you as well! You look very happy this morning. Why’s that?”

You approach the counter as your boots create wet marks on the wooden floor. Letting out a giggle, you replied, “Thank you, sir. But there’s no big reason, really.”

You ordered your usual brown coffee with banana bread and sat down on an unoccupied seat. “Your friend Jimin isn’t with you today?” Mr. Jeon asks and you shake your head.

You chewed on your food as fast as you can before answering his question, “Jimin got on sick leave, Mr. Jeon. I’m all alone today!” You sing-songed your last words jokingly, making him laugh.

“Oh, you wouldn’t—”

“Hey, dad.”

Your whole body jumps in surprise as a man, dressed in all black with a leather jacket, bursts inside the café, all soaking wet.

You were so frightened from the sudden outburst that your heart was pumping rapidly in your chest.

“Jungkook? What are you doing here?” Mr. Jeon asks quizzically, “And why are you so wet?”

Mr. Jeon’s son, Jungkook – as you supposed – smirked for a quick second before pushing his damp hair away from his face. You gulp, cheeks blushing at the embarrassingly hot sight.

“Dad, stop talking like that before I –”

“You know what I mean!”

“Okay, okay! Well, my car broke down today so I got it towed then I had nothing to do so I decided to help you with work.”

“Oh, that’s great then!” Mr. Jeon scans the room and locks eyes with you for a long second, and you swiftly pry your eyes away. Mr. Jeon grins, “Keep that gorgeous young lady over there company before she goes to work.”

And before you even knew it, Jungkook was right in front of you with his hands on the table, leaning down as he stared at your stunned face with a smirk.

“Hello.” He speaks, his voice sounding like honey and charcoal mixed together.

You swallowed the nervous lump on your throat before replying, “Hi.”

“Is it okay if I sit here for a while, hm?”

You nod your head.

Jungkook chuckles and does what he says. He rests his arms on the table and intertwines his fingers together. His eyes burn deeply into your own and you couldn’t seem to look away. You felt your cheeks blush and turn into a deep shade of red, not used to a man this handsome so close to you.

Jungkook studies you for a moment, scanning you up and down before squinting his eyes. “Do you not talk?”

Ouch. You felt a sharp sting on your heart, immediately lowering your head down. “S-sorry,” you half-whispered, avoiding eye-contact. This man in front of you not only looks handsome and cute, but he’s got a sharp tongue.

“Ah, no, please. I apologize. I was just shocked, that’s all.”

You lift your head up, “Shocked? Why?” your shyness was slowly fading away and he observes this.

“I wasn’t expecting a girl like you to be so shy and quiet when I first laid my eyes on you.”

Oh? You didn’t know how to respond to that, but it made your heart flutter nonetheless. You smiled at him, and he smiles back.

“I haven’t gotten your name yet though, haven’t I?”

Your body hastily prompts up, “Oh, yeah. I’m Y/n, nice to meet you.”

“Y/n,” he licks his lips as he says your name slowly as if testing how it rolls off of his tongue. You bite your lip at that, making you squirm in your seat.

“I like it, you have a very pretty name. Just like you.”

Before you can react or even respond to that, he cuts you off. “I’m Jeon Jungkook, nice to meet you.”

“N-Nice to meet you too, Jungkook.”

Perhaps dating Jungkook was the best decision you’ve ever made.

Pinned against his bedroom walls, Jungkook leans down as he kisses you. His lips completely control yours, his dominant side showing and overpowering you. You keep moaning onto the kiss and that makes him groan. “Fuck, baby,” he sighs, scattering gentle pecks on the skin of your neck, “You like how I kiss you, hmm?” his big hands wander down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze and causing you to moan.

“A-ah, Jungkook,” you whimper, his hands not leaving your butt. Jungkook smirks and pulls your body closer to him. You were so small that you literally had to tilt your head back to look up at him. He leans down to kiss your lips once more, but it was rougher. He wraps his whole left arm around your body, tugging you firmer, while his other hand cups your right cheek. He controls the kiss, your tongues fighting together and you couldn’t keep up with him.

You keep whining in the kiss, your hands gripping his shirt in a loose attempt of telling him to slow down. Your cheeks were flushed in red, blushing by how turned on you are for him.

Jungkook chuckles, stopping the kiss. “You keep moaning into the kiss baby girl, what are you, hmm? A little schoolgirl who got kissed for the first time?” he teased, your face redder than it already was. Jungkook suddenly growls darkly, the deep sound finding its way down your core. “Your little whimpers turn me on so fucking much.”

Your eyes widen from his crude words, feeling your panties soak. You rub your thighs together, and your boyfriend sees this. He smirks, lifting your small body with his strong arms and carrying you to his bed.

He sets you down gently with a grin, pushing the stray hairs away from your face. “You aren’t a virgin, aren’t you, baby?” he asks with a quirk of his brow.

You shake your head, “N-no… why?”

He chuckles, “Good. ‘Cause I don’t plan to fuck you like one.”

You almost moan with just that sentence, every little thing that he does turns you on. He suddenly grabs your legs and pushes them apart so that he can kneel in between them. Lifting up his black shirt, your mouth waters from the sight of his toned body. A quiet whimper escapes your lips as you bit on your index finger.

“Bet those little panties are soaking wet right now, huh?” he snickers, playing with the hem of your cotton shirt. “Let me take this off, okay?”

You whimpered, quickly placing your hand on top of his as you stopped him. You shake your head side to side, your eyes drooping.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Jungkook’s heart clenches at the sight of you and quickly leans down to caress your cheeks lovingly, “What’s the matter, my baby?”

“I-I,” you tried to start, “I’m not v-very pretty…” Your voice was shaking and you attempted to cover your face with your little hands, but Jungkook didn’t let you.

He firmly catches both of your wrists in his right hand. His eyes were burning holes in yours, “Don’t talk about yourself like that, Y/n.”

You gulp, noticing how he addressed you by your first name, and not the usual ‘baby’. His tone got more serious, his eyebrows creasing down.

He slowly creeps a hand beneath your shirt, feeling the soft, delicate skin of your tummy. Jungkook sighs, caressing your lower stomach with his big hand, massaging it gently. “You are so beautiful, Y/n, and you should believe me when I say that.”

He leans down lower to kiss your delicate lips tenderly, full of love. “You know I don’t lie to you. You’re the most beautiful and perfect girl I’ve ever met, and I’m so fucking lucky to even have you. Your body’s a blessing, baby. Be proud of it, yeah? Will you let me see your gorgeous body?”

His words immediately made you feel better, and it was surprising how he can control the way you felt. You felt so loved whenever you’re with him, a feeling that you’ve never felt in a long time. You were definitely the luckiest girl in the world.

Nodding your head, you gave him permission to remove your shirt. He smiles and slowly lifts the clothing up and throws it down on the floor. He eyes your body up and down, noticing how his cheeks blush in the faintest of pinks. “Shit,” he breathes out, “you’re a fucking goddess.”

Jungkook wastes no time to spread wet and sloppy kisses down the valley of your exposed breasts and down to your stomach. “J-Jungkook,” you moan, and a loud gasp escape your lips when he wraps his mouth around your left nipple, sucking and flicking on the hard bud.

“O-oh, y-yeah, Jungkook, mhm …” you throw your head back when he starts playing with your other boob as he continued to flick and bite on the little bud. Gripping a bunch of his hair, Jungkook growls from the feeling. He pulls away with a loud ‘pop’ and moves to your other boob to give it the same attention.

Jungkook’s hips were involuntarily humping down on you, feeling his hard cock rubbing on your thighs. You whimper, bucking your hips up to him in an attempt to feel some friction. He chuckles, “Needy little girl.”

He moves away from your body and you whine from the loss of contact. Jungkook only smirks and starts to unbutton his jeans, pulling the clothing down and tossing it to the side. Your mouth waters from the sight of his clothed cock. His cock looked long and thick from the way it was outlined from his briefs.

“Jungkook,” you mewled, biting your lip as you pleaded at him with your eyes.

He brings his hand down to tease you, palming his clothed, hard dick as he keeps eye contact. He was smirking, loving the way your body squirms on the bed. He grips his cock and strokes it up and down slightly. The image of him throwing his head back, his neck slowly starting to bead with sweat, his large hand palming his dick was enough to make you cry out loud.

“You want it, baby?” he asks with a raspy voice, crawling back to you.

“Yes, p-please,” you begged, but Jungkook shakes his head.

“M’gonna eat you out first. Gonna need this pretty cunt soaking wet for me before I fuck your little hole.”

Jungkook wastes no time and rips your shorts away, and he sees the little wet patch on your cotton panties. “Fucking hell,” he groans, his eyes rolling back to his head as your smell hits his nose. He rubs your clothed folds with his thumb, the slightest action already making you moan. “Damn, baby. You’re so sensitive. When was the last time you got fucked, huh?”

“L-Long, long time ago—oh my god, Jungkook!”

Without a warning, he pulls your panties down and licks a harsh, bold stripe from your dripping wet hole and up to your clit. He does this a second, a third time before you’re already begging and gripping on his hair. He circles his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves, careful not to directly put his tongue on it.

“Please, w-wan’ more.” You mewled, eyes closed shut.

Jungkook suddenly prods the tip of his tongue on your entrance, collecting all of your gushes and wetness and letting himself taste you. He growls, his hand comes up to play with your clit using his thumb. He circles your bud gently as his mouth plays with yours slick. Your pussy throbs when he replaces his hand with his mouth, harshly sucking on your clit as his tongue flicks on it at the same time.

“Fuck! J-Jungkook,” you sobbed, bucking your hips up for more, “I want m-more, please, please, please!”

Jungkook gets turned on from your endless pleads, sucking on your clit harsher and flicking it faster. “Tell me how my tongue feels on your pussy, babe,” He groans animalistically, and the vibrations it caused made your whole body shake in pleasure.

“It f-feels so good, so good,” you sob, “I want more of it, please!”

You felt a finger prodding at your entrance, and your body writhes. “Shh, shh, baby, baby,” Jungkook coos, “Let me prep you up, baby girl.”

You hold onto his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he slowly sinks his middle finger inside your tight pussy. You gush around his finger, more of your liquid starts to drip down as he slowly fills you up with a single digit. Your eyes roll back, mouth agape as you couldn’t seem to form any words.

“Thaaat’s right, that’s a good girl, hmm?” he smirks, watching how your hips buck up, “Gonna have to prepare you for this cock, right? Don’t want your little pussy splitting into two.”

Jungkook starts to thrusts his finger in and out of you at a normal pace, watching how your face contorts in pleasure. You were a whimpering mess, your forehead forming a layer of sweat, your pussy clenching tightly around his finger. Jungkook’s cock seems to twitch every time he hears your little whines and moans, your cute noises turning him on to the max. He feels precum dripping down from his tip, making him groan.

Without saying anything, Jungkook shoves a second finger in, stretching your walls out good for him. “Ah, ah, ah, there we go, there we go, baby,” he sighs, licking his lips.

“Jungkook, I-I’m so close,” you whimpered, eyes watery.

“You are?” he teases and fakes a disappointed tone, “My baby girl’s already close? Oh what a shame, I wanted you to cum on my cock, not on my fingers, baby.” Even though you know that he was playing a displeased expression, you still took it to heart.

“B-But your fingers – aahh – your f-fingers will make me cum!” you cried, tears already dripping down your cheeks as you felt him fuck you faster, his thumb circling your clit at the same time. The nerves in your clit send electrical currents throughout your trembling body.

Jungkook growls as something snapped inside of him when he saw your tears. He wanted to see you sob.

“Yeah? They will?” he fusses, “Oh, I’ll be very disappointed if you cum right now, baby. You wanna make me mad?”

You quickly shake your head, sniffing, “N-no!”

“Then don’t fucking cum.” He growls.

The combined feeling of your walls getting stroked by his fingers and the way he was playing with your clit made it super hard for you. More tears seem to escape your eyes when he suddenly hits your g-spot deliciously. “Oh, right there!” you cry out, breathing heavily.

“Right here, baby? Ohh, you like it right here?” he licks his lips, loving the way your body contorts from pleasure. His fingers rub and stroke the spongey feeling of your g-spot with wild ‘come here’ motions. He sees your tears dripping down your eyes as little strands of hair were sticking on the base of your neck from the sweat. Your pussy kept clenching around his digits so hard that made his cock throb painfully.

“Please please please, let me cum!” you begged in a little voice, not having the energy to yell as loud as you wanted to. You tried your best to hold back your orgasm, but the way he was fucking your pussy with only his two fingers was too much for you.

“Please, I-I can’t stand it…” More tears dripped down onto your cheek, your walls fluttering around his fingers as you were getting closer and closer to cumming.

Yet, Jungkook suddenly removes his fingers out, denying your orgasm.

“No, no!” your whole body shakes and trembles and Jungkook immediately hovers above your figure. His hands hold your wet cheeks and wipes away the fallen tears, his cock twitching.

“Shh, baby girl, baby girl. It’s okay, it’s okay.” Jungkook places soft pecks on your lips, trying his best to calm you down as you were still shaking.

You whimpered, literally sobbing as you tried to stop yourself from crying, but everything was just out of control. Your pussy kept clenching around nothing and your breathing was heavy. Jungkook places his head on the crook of your neck, rubbing your sides and he scatters kisses on your shoulder. He chuckles breathily, completely amused and turned on, “It’s okay, precious.” He lifts his head up to look at your face, all flushed and your eyes glossy, “I’m gonna make you cum so good and so hard. I’m gonna make it up to you, little baby.”

“Y-you better,” you sniff, making him chuckle.

He tugs his briefs down with one and the other wipes the remaining tears on your cheek. He hisses when his dick hits your inner thigh, stroking it a couple of times and spreading his precum.

“You like what you see, my baby?” he smirks, noticing how you couldn’t get your eyes off of his hard cock.

It was so big, you weren’t even sure if it’ll fit. Your past boyfriends couldn’t even compare to him. The tip of his cock was pouring precum and it was angry in red, the veins in his shaft prominent that made you mewl. Crossing your legs together in need, a whimper flows out of you as you felt your pussy drip. You wanted to feel it inside of you for the first time, you want him to break you.

“What are thinking, hmm? Baby?” he says, letting his thick shaft rub against your wet, soaked slit. You whimper, bucking your hips up but his hands push you back down with a growl.

“Y-You’re so big, Jungkook,” you blush, “It wouldn’t fit.”

“Oh, I fucking know, baby,” the tip of his dick slightly nudges your clit, making you mewl from the sensitivity. “I don’t even know if you can take it.”

He hears you whimper and he slaps your cunt a couple of times with his thick dick, “But you will.”

Jungkook pushes the tip slowly against your entrance, and you close your eyes immediately from the feeling. He was going so slow yet you can feel how your walls were stretching so much with just the tip.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” he curses, trying to fit this whole tip in without accidentally breaking you in half, “You’re so fucking tight, fuck, even with how wet you already are. Goodness, baby,” he chuckles, pulling his cock out as he tries to fit it in for a second time, “Pussy so fucking tiny, can’t even get the head to fit.”

He was able to push about half of his cock inside your cunt yet you already feel so full. You couldn’t stop the way your pussy was dripping more and more juices out, and Jungkook loved the way it felt.

He notices how your eyes were getting watery once again, and this time he felt concerned.

“Does it hurt, baby? Please tell me to stop if it gets too much for you,”

“No, no, please. Please continue,” you say with a small voice, trying to control your breathing, “I-I just love the way it feels so much.”

Jungkook feels his cock pulse from your praise, and it definitely turned a switch inside of him, “Yeah, you do? Look at you, crying already. Crying ‘cause you love the feeling, huh? Love the feeling of my cock stretching your tiny, delicious cunt?”

You nod your head frantically, feeling how he pushes more and more of his cock into you. It felt like it doesn’t seem to end. “S-so…big…” you cry, sniffing. Jungkook lifts your legs up and hangs it on his shoulders, the new position caused him more room to push and his tip hits your g-spot without trouble.

“Oh!” you yell, “Jungkook!”

“Fuuuuuck!” he drags out, starting to pump slowly, “Feels so fucking good. Your little cunt feels so tight, shit, it keeps clenching, baby.” Jungkook throws his head back, biting his bottom lip.

“I’m gonna cum.” You whisper, “I’m gonna c-cum!”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to fuck you a bit faster, hitting your sweet spot without difficulty with his thick tip. “Cum, baby, I’m not gonna stop you.”

Your eyes roll back from the immense pleasure, the feeling of a large wave hitting your body as you went through your hard orgasm. You’ve never cummed so hard in your entire life. You started seeing stars as your pussy clenches tightly around Jungkook’s cock as you feel him fuck you harder and faster through your orgasm.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, “Jung—oh my god!”

Jungkook adjusts his position and starts to fuck you deeper, his arms keeping him up as he pounds down in your cunt. He watches your reaction, how you never stopped crying and how you kept moaning and whimpering for him. He watched how your tiny figure was curled up, your legs hanging on his shoulders as it provided him more space to fuck you. He smirks and chuckles, loving how submissive you are.

“You love how I fuck you, huh, you love my cock? You love how my big, long cock stretches your tiny little cunt out? Hmm?”

You don’t respond as you were too focused on the feeling of his big cock pounding your pussy, his balls hitting your butt. His shaft was rubbing against your walls so good that it was the only thing you can think of. When you don’t answer, Jungkook gives one particular, hard thrust, his tip harshly hitting your g-spot.

“O-oh! Jungkook…” you whined.

“Answer when someone asked you a question, you bad, little girl.”

“I-I…” you gulped, “I love it, Jungkook…”

He pushes another inch of his cock in, making you gasp loudly.

“Love what?”

“I l-love how your big cock stretches me out,” you mewled, biting your lip right after. Jungkook cock throbs when your eyes meet and they looked so big. Your eyes were watery as more tears kept escaping from them, and Jungkook wanted to wipe them off of your face, but the sight was too good.

The way you were looking up at him so innocently made him fuck you harder and deeper, getting even closer to his own orgasm.

“Why’re you such a fucking crybaby, huh?” he chuckles, “Crying all this time, hmm? Couldn’t take my fingers and my cock? You couldn’t take how I fuck you raw? Fuck, baby. Cry as much as you want, I’m not gonna fucking stop until you say so.”

Saying that Jungkook was turned on was an understatement. There were no words to describe how aroused he was in this situation. He was so fucking lucky to have you.

“Deeper, please,” you sobbed. Jungkook does just that. His thrusts turn even harsher as he basically pushes all of his cock in, not caring that it might sting. “Aahh! K-Kook!” you cry, but he doesn’t care at this point. He was too in his feelings.

“Yeah, look at my pretty little girl taking all of this cock in her little cunt. You filthy little thing, you like it when I fuck you balls deep?” he chuckles when you nod your head, sniffing.

“My crybaby. I love to see you cry. Love to feel how my dick stretches that little pussy. So fucking tight, fuck.”

Jungkook feels your pussy clenching sporadically around him once more, and he senses your second orgasm. “Cum, baby. Cum around my cock again. Please, fuck. Wanna feel your walls tighten around my raw dick. Wanna see you scream my name and sob for me. Wanna see this little pussy ruined.”

That was all that it took for you to cum. Your hands scratch down his back as your walls tighten around his thick girth. Your mouth was agape as you screamed his name like he wanted to. “Jungkook! Oh my god, oh my god…” Jungkook keeps fucking you through your orgasm again as he helped himself reach his own high. You came so hard, your mind going blank as you just focused on the delicious, addictive sensation.

“Fuuuuck, yeah, oh my fucking god.” He curses, and with a few hard thrusts, he pulls out and shoots his cum on your stomach. Strings of his seed cover your skin and you moan from the sight. He kept pumping his cock with his right hand, his biceps flexing and abs tightening as he milked his cock clean.

After he was finished he flops beside you with a loud sigh. “Oh my god. I came so fucking hard.”

You giggle at that as you watch him stand up immediately to grab a wet towel from the bathroom, and coming back to wipe your body with it. He then tends to your face, wiping your cheeks using the clean side of the cloth. “I’m sorry if it was too much for you, Y/n,” he breathes out, “Seeing someone cry like that during sex was a first time for me.”

“No, i-it’s okay. I loved it. I cried because it feels too good. I’ve never felt that type of way, I promise.”

His eyes light up, his lips curving into a smile, “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nod, “I probably looked dumb crying, didn’t I?

“No, no, no! Absolutely not.” He quickly says, stroking your hair. He kisses your lips lovingly, and you can feel how much he loves and cares for you in that little kiss. “You didn’t look dumb, in fact...” Jungkook looks away, blushing a little bit as he wondered if he should say it or not.

‘Oh, whatever.’ “It turned me on.”

You lift your eyebrows up in shock, and now it was your turn to blush. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” he leans down close to your ear, and you can feel his hot breath hitting the skin, sending shivers down your back, “You looked so fucking cute like that, baby. So fucking hot, shit,” he chuckles, shaking his head, “I’ll stop talking before I fuck you again… just to see you cry.”

“Jungkook!” you playfully slapped his arm, your face completely red in embarrassment. “I’m too tired for another round.”

“I know, I know, baby. Let’s get some rest, little one.”

Having sex with Jungkook for the first time made you closer to him than ever. After that day, Jungkook seemed more protective of you. It wasn’t like he isn’t protective of you before having sex, but… things felt different.

He also acts more helpful? You weren’t sure if that was the right word to describe it, but he acted more caring than he already was.

He’d always cook for you whenever you visit him, he’d pick out clothes for you to wear and help you put them on, he’d grip your hand tighter whenever the two of you crossed the road, he’d order food for you in restaurants, and he would even massage your back whenever you came home from work. It was the simplest thing he does for you that amuses you. To be honest, it made you feel soft and fluffy on the inside. It made you feel a type of way, like you feel so protected and loved around him.

Knocking on his front door three times, you waited for Jungkook to appear as you held your hands behind your back.

“Oh, hi Y/n.” Your eyes widen when you saw Taehyung, his roommate, open the door instead of your boyfriend.

“T-Taehyung!” you stutter, completely surprised, “Hi… is Jungkook home?” you asked politely. You and Taehyung met a couple of times before, yet your conversations were always short and a bit awkward. Taehyung was a great guy, but he was always out and about so you didn’t have the opportunity to get to know him.

He was almost the same height as your boyfriend, and you still had to look up.

“He isn’t here yet, he’ll be back in a few minutes though.” He says in a monotone voice, towering over you. He looks at you so sharply that it made you feel intimidated. His eyes turned into little slits, eyeing your little figure up and down. You could’ve sworn he smirked for a quick second, but perhaps your mind was only playing with you.

If you knew that Jungkook’s roommate would be home, your outfit wouldn’t be a simple oversized t-shirt and short cotton shorts.

“Come in.” he states simply as he moves aside to give you some room. “Please act as if I’m not here.”

“O-oh,” you whisper, “okay…”

You watch Taehyung as he disappears into the hallway and goes inside his room, the door shutting with a loud bang. You frown. Maybe he had a bad day?

You still had so much time to kill left, so you had an idea. You walked up to Taehyung’s doorstep and gulped before knocking. “Taehyung? C-can I ask you something?” you say in a quiet, small voice.

“What?” he shouts.

You sigh, “I wanted to ask you about some—” You shrieked when the door suddenly flies open, revealing him wearing headsets and a PS4 controller on one hand.

“Oh s-sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, it’s okay,” he chuckles, “I’m having a bad day today, so I apologize if I seem like an ass.”

You giggle at that, nodding your head in acknowledgment. “I wanted to ask you if I can use some of your ingredients, I want to surprise him some food before he gets home.” You say giddily, not realizing that you’re standing up in your tippy toes.

Taehyung looks down and notices this, making him laugh and shake his head in amusement. “Yeah, of course, Y/n. You can use whatever you want.”

“Yay! Thank you!” You quickly ran back to the kitchen as Taehyung laughs at you, his mouth smiling wide as he shuts the door, resuming to his game.

Jungkook can feel the excitement bubbling in his stomach as he parks his car, knowing that he’ll be seeing you again today after such a long day. He bites his lip as he makes his way to the front door, the thought of hugging your body, of kissing your sweet lips and smelling your scent was driving him insane. He wants to feel you. To see you again.

You, on the other hand, don’t hear the keys jiggling as you kept humming to yourself as you made him his favorite snack. Jungkook opens the door and sees you facing away from him, chopping away on the counter. He creases his brows in confusion, smirking.

Jungkook crosses his arms together, biceps flexing as he quietly walks closer. He leans his arms on the marble island, watching you in amusement.

You kept humming your favorite song, not knowing that your boyfriend was right behind you. You tip-toed as you tried to open the cupboard right above you, but it was too high for your short height. Huffing a breath, you reached your right arm higher, stretching up as much as you could. Jungkook only watched with a cocky smirk, lifting a hand up as his thumb and index finger played with his bottom lip. He watches how your shirt hikes up, revealing more of your butt, how you struggled to keep yourself in your tippy toes.

Even though you’ve admitted many times before how much you hated your height, Jungkook loves it so fucking much. He didn’t understand it before, but he loves how he can easily hold your tiny little body by just wrapping his big, strong arms around you. He loves to see how you seem so small beside his tall and intimidating build. It gives him the feeling to take care of you, the strong desire of wanting to protect you as your lover.

Besides all of that, though — the size difference turns him on.

His dominant side easily shows whenever you let him control your body with consent, letting him use your frail figure for both of your pleasure.

A whimper escapes your lips, “Mmph!” You frustratingly yelled, fingers trying to reach for the handle.

Jungkook chews on his bottom lip, feeling his cock twitch slightly inside his tight pants. He licks his lips and chuckles darkly when you wailed.

His eyes widen, though, when you lift your knee up to rest on the counter, trying to hoist yourself up as your hands grab onto the cupboard.

He quickly strides over to you and places two hands on your waist, pressing his front on your backside. “Hey, hey, careful, careful, little one.”

Your whole body jumps in surprise, eyes expanding as you flip your head to him, “Jungkook! You scared me!”

“No, you scared me. Climbing up the counter isn’t safe at all.”

Jungkook grabs your hoisted leg and puts it back on the ground. He still kept his body pressed firmly onto yours, not giving you space. “I couldn’t reach the cupboard…” you faintly said, making Jungkook giggle.

“I know. I was watching you this whole time.”

You gasp, trying to turn your body around to face him but his strength didn’t let you. He grips your waist firmer, a soft raspy growl leaving his lips. A blush creeps up your cheeks from the sound.

“T-then why didn’t you help me?” you grin, throwing your head back so that you can look up at him. The top of your head was pressed against his upper stomach, giving you a full view of his jaw and his face looking down at you.

Jungkook sighs, wrapping his hand around your throat without pressing. He leans farther down and presses a kiss on your forehead. “Because I thought you look fucking adorable.”

“Jungkook!” you shout with an embarrassed laugh. “P-please let me finish this snack I’m making for you.” You whine, wriggling your body as you tried to find a way out of his strong grip. Jungkook further plays his game though, wrapping his big arms around your small figure, enclosing your body with his firm hold.

“Mmm, fuck, I love you, I love you.” He mutters, making your heart flutter with his words. “I-I love you too, Kook. B-but you’re squeezing me so h-hard.” Your small hands try to push his arms away, but of course, it was useless.

Jungkook gives you one final kiss on the top of your head before he finally releases you, causing you to puff out a large breath. “Oh! Thank you,” you giggle, “please, let me finish this, Kook.”

“Okay baby,” he smiles, wandering to the other side of the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. “Thank you.”

You nod your head and bite your lip, looking at his eyes. “Y-you’re welcome. But can you…” you look up at the cupboard, then back to him, “Can you please grab me the salt up there?”

Laughing, Jungkook nods and comes up to your side and opens the cupboard with no problem. “Here, little girl.”

You blush at the nickname as you grab the bottle with a blush on your cheeks. “Thank you.”

With a final kiss on the cheek, Jungkook playfully squishes your cheeks with one hand, “No need for that, babe.”

Jungkook also finds many different ways to spice up your sex life. Every round drained your energy but he had such a huge and impressive stamina.

“Jungkook, p-please, careful, careful…” you whimpered, closing your eyes tight as his dick kept pounding into your little cunt. Jungkook lets out a breathy chuckle as he lifts your legs up to wrap around his waist. This position gave him better access to your g-spot, hitting all the right nerves that made you moan louder and louder with each thrust.

“Careful?” he snickers, “You want me to go careful on this pretty little pussy?” He pounds harder and deeper, making you cry out. “How can I go fucking careful when this cunt drives me wild. Drives me insane, huh? How can I go careful when you cunt keeps clenching around my thick cock? Hmm, baby?”

“Jungkook, oh my god,” you start scratching down his back from the pleasure he brings you, his dirty, filthy words sending you into a frenzy.

“My god, baby girl. Keep clenching your walls around me like that and I swear I’m gonna fucking cum inside this cunt. Oh my fu – shit! You wanna be a bad girl and keep tightening around my cock?”

You tried your best to relax, yet his powerful thrusts were making it hard for you to do so. You keep whimpering and whining, hugging his sweaty body closer on yours so that you can feel his hot breath. Jungkook places wet and sloppy kisses on your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin and biting on it. He scatters your neck with bites, nipping harshly, making you mewl.

“Daddy, t-that hurts.”

You didn’t even process what you just said not when Jungkook stops his tracks. You lock eyes with him and there were this different look and aura on his face, his irises blown even wider and turning darker.

His breathing was heavier, and he wants to fuck you like his little fucktoy so fucking bad, but he controls himself. “What did you…what did you just call me?”

You shake your flushed face side to side, “I-I’m sorry… I didn’t know why I said it and I’m sorry if you didn’t like it…”

Jungkook releases a deep growl, wrapping his right hand around your throat and squeezing, choking you. “I asked you a fucking question and I expect you to answer it, you fucking slut.”

You whimpered from his degradation, feeling his big hand wrapping around your throat made your pussy clench tighter around him even more. Your mind goes back to his previous question, “I c-called you my daddy…”

Jungkook closes his eyes shut for five seconds, inhaling a deep breath as he prods his tongue on the inside of his right cheek.

He leans down so close to your ear that you can feel his lips grazing on your earlobe, his hot breath hitting your skin, making you shiver. “Keep calling me that and I’ll fuck you like the good little bitch you are for me.”

Your eyes widen and you feel your pussy gush around his thick, long cock. He smirks at your reaction and starts thrusting in and out of you once again, slowly this time. “I love how your pretty mouth says that. It turns me on so fucking bad.”

You giggle, cheeks blushing, “Okay, daddy. B-but – oohhh – go faster.”

Jungkook wipes the smile away from your face when he suddenly flips your frail little body over, making you lay on your stomach, your face pressed against the sheets. You whimpered loudly when a harsh slap lands on your ass, his hand hitting the flesh so roughly that caused a stinging, loud spank.

Jungkook pulls his cock out of your dripping pussy, making you mewl from the loss.

“So now you’re begging for daddy to go faster without saying please, huh?”

Spank.

“Is this what you want, huh?”

Spank.

“Wanna be a bad girl? Talking to daddy like that?”

“Jungk—daddy!”

Spank.

“Fucking get your words right, baby girl, before I bruise this pretty little ass purple until you couldn’t sit down.”

Your pussy was gushing slick out to the sheets, your eyes were already blurry as you let your tears drip down onto your cheeks. Jungkook can hear your little sniffles and he roughly grabs a bunch of your hair and tugs harshly, forcing your head to tilt upwards.

A loud whine escapes your lips, the pain triggering more cries out of you. Jungkook tsk-ed, spanking your reddened ass once more. “Look at you, fucking pathetic.”

“N-no,” you whimpered, feeling his head prod against your entrance, but he doesn’t push all the way in.

“Crying like the little cockslut you are, begging for cock without saying please? Daddy needs to teach you a fucking lesson, you little slut.”

You felt your stomach coil up from his crude, degrading words but it turned you on even more. Jungkook finally releases the harsh grip on your hair, “Up on all fours, crybaby.”

You bite your lip from the way he addressed you, quickly doing what he told you so that you wouldn’t be in more trouble. You hang your head low, feeling your teardrops run down to your jaw and on to the bed.

“D-daddy,” you sniff, “I’m…I’m s-sorry.”

He hits another hard spank on your ass, making your whole body jolt forward from the sudden sting. “Mmphh, d-daddy…” you plead.

“I’m not taking any little sorry tonight, slut. Take what daddy gives you as an apology.”

Without any warning, he suddenly shoves his whole cock inside of you, balls deep, without giving you any time to adjust. Your eyes expand from the quick shot of pleasure, your mouth agape as you tightly gripped on the sheets below you. You felt so full, feeling his cock about to split you into two. “F-fuck! Daddy!” you cried, your pussy clenching around his girth tightly.

Jungkook tries his best to keep his composure, to prevent himself from fucking you as he keeps his dick inside your wet cunt. His hands grip your hips tightly, for sure leaving red handprints.

“Be a good girl and keep my cock warm,” he growls.

“D-daddy, no… p-please mo — oohh — move!”

“You really want to disobey daddy, huh?” Spank. “You like being a brat? You’re not my good little girl.” Spank.

With his words, somehow, made you cry even more. You bite your lip to stop yourself from sobbing out loud from the overwhelming pain and pleasure that he’s giving you. You can feel his cock throb inside of you, and his tight grip prevents you from moving.

“I-I’m your…your good little girl, daddy.” You whimper as you shut your eyes, shedding more tears.

Jungkook groans when he swivels his hips slightly, his tip hitting just the right nerves inside your clenching pussy. He wanted to fuck you just like you do, but you had to endure your punishment.

“Oh you are now, really?” he snickers, “Good little girls take their punishment properly.”

“I-I’ll take it properly, daddy! Puh-please, I’ll b-be good.”

Jungkook seemed satisfied with your pleading, and he takes his cock out of your pussy. You whined loudly, your whole body shaking. Jungkook moves so that he was now kneeling in front of you, his heart clenching when he finally sees your fucked-out face.

He leans down and takes your wet cheeks in his big hands, watching you sniff and tremble. “Baby girl,” he whispers, placing a kiss on your lips. “Are you okay? Still want to keep going?”

You nod your head, trying to form a smile above all of your weeping. Jungkook grins but soon replaces it with a devilish smirk. His big hand wraps around your jaw and adjusts himself so that his dick was right in front of your lips. He grips his shaft in his other hand and spreads his precum on your lips, watching you with dark, lustful eyes.

“Gonna fuck this bratty little mouth of yours ‘till you learn your lesson, got it?”

You look up at him with fuzzy eyes, nodding your head. He pushes his cock in and you instinctively open your mouth, inviting him in. Jungkook throws his head back and groans loudly when his cock comes in contact with your tongue. His dick wasn’t even halfway in and you were already gagging.

“Shit,” he chuckles, his left hand holding the back of your head. “You look so fucking hot like this,” you watch him brush his hair back with his unoccupied hand, seeing his biceps flex. You whimpered, the vibrations hitting his cock deliciously.

“Look at you, fucking crying as your little mouth tries to take my cock,” he smirks, pushing more and more of his length in, feeling your throat tighten around him. You quickly remembered to breathe through your nose, and you do just that.

“What? Can’t take my cock either?” he snarls, pulling all the way out before snapping his hips back in again, making you choke. “I think my cock’s too big for this tiny little girl I have right here.”

His words sent up a spike of pleasure to run throughout your whole body, and you were determined to take all of him in. You slack your jaw and open your mouth wider – besides the protest of your tears – and you take more of his dick.

He starts to thrust at a steady pace, hitting your gag reflex again and again but you try to push it away. Jungkook keeps his eyes on you, watching how your eyes struggle to keep open as they keep shedding more tears, your lips drooling in saliva as his dick fucked your throat. He thrusts faster and faster, now holding your head in both hands.

“B-baby,” he groans, “take my fucking cock. That’s right, choke around it… fuck!”

Jungkook decides to push another inch of his cock in, and your throat harshly gags around it. You felt your pussy clench tightly and his dick throbbed harshly from the tightness of your throat. He shuts his eyes and keeps his dick still inside your mouth, the tip of your nose almost touching his pubic bone. “Fuuuuuuck! Baby g-girl, so fucking t-tight.”

He reopens his eyes and finally pulls his cock out of your sore little mouth, watching as a string of saliva connects from your lips and on his tip. You exhale a large puff of air, breathing heavily.

“Ohh, my precious baby girl,” he coos as he leans down to grab your face, kissing your lips passionately. You whimpered into his mouth, feeling so fucked out and tired, your arms almost giving out. “I love you,” he says, biting on your bottom lip right after, “I love you.”

You look up at him, your eyes slightly red. You knew that he was only saying these crude, vulgar words just for the sake of sex. You knew that he didn’t mean it. “I love you too, a lot, lot more.”

“Impossible.” Your boyfriend chuckles and swiftly flips you over again with no trouble, lifting you up as if you weighed like a feather. He lays you on your back again as he hovered his body on top of you, his forearms on either side of your face.

“I’m gonna fuck you like you deserved to be fucked, baby.” Jungkook wastes no time to insert his cock back in your cunt, and this time, he doesn’t stop. He fucks you balls deep, feeling your walls stretch around his girth once more. He couldn’t get used to the feeling, he wanted to fuck you even rougher but he feels like he’s going to tear your pussy apart. “Fuck, baby, your cunt feels like it’s gonna break if I fuck you even harder.”

“Daddy, p-please… I want it.”

Jungkook quirks a brow up, “What did you say? Say it louder, baby girl.”

You gulp down the lump in your throat, “P-please fuck me rough. Please don’t hold back, daddy, I d-deserve it. Fuck my l-little pussy until I break, please please please, daddy.”

Jungkook turns animalistic, a deep growl erupting from his throat as he snaps his hips even harder and faster. His cock was hitting your sweet spot all this time, and you couldn’t even keep your eyes open from the overwhelming pleasure. He’s fucking you so roughly that he can’t think straight. He lifts your legs up to wrap around his waist so that he can fuck you deeper.

“Aaah! Right t-there!” you squeal, wiping your tears away from your face with your palm, “Daddy, it f-feels too good!”

“Yeah?” he groans, “My little crybaby, wanting her daddy to fuck her pussy like it’s her last dick she’s ever gonna get?” Jungkook wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing it just right. His dick throbs from the sight of you weeping, lips bruised from all of your constant lip bites. “This little body trying it’s best to take big dick, huh?”

Your cheeks blush, nodding your head, “Y-yes, daddy. I-I love it.”

“Oh I know you do. Pleasure too much for you to handle that you cry, hm? Bet no one fucked you this good. No dick has ever been good to you, huh? Is that it?”

Your eyes roll back, his hand squeezing your neck bit tighter as he feels your pussy clenching nonstop around his cock. “O-only you, daddy. Only your cock makes me feel this good.”

“Good thing you know, baby. Because you’re gonna feel daddy’s cock in you for the next couple of days. Daddy’s gonna make your small little body feel so sore tomorrow, the next day, and the day after that. Daddy’s gonna make sure that you couldn’t walk after this.”

With his head hitting your g-spot constantly, you felt the familiar coil in your stomach building up fast. “D-daddy! I’m gonna cum!” you whimper, chest heaving up and down, your forehead sticky with sweat.

“You are? Ohh, I know, baby,” he chuckles, “Your cunt keeps squeezing around my dick. Cum whenever you’re ready, little girl.”

After a couple more hard thrusts, the building knot in your tummy snaps. You finally cum around his cock, your walls clenching and pulsating tightly and sporadically on his length, your legs physically shaking. Jungkook groans, holding your trembling body in his strong arms, hugging you close. “Thaaaat’s it, that’s my good girl.” He purrs, watching your figure shake, your legs pulling his hips closer and firmer.

“Daddy,” you whispered, still cumming, “I-I…” your mouth was agape, not having the energy to form coherent words. Jungkook fucks you through your orgasm, trying his best not to cum immediately. His thrusts turn sloppy and he slows down, his own high coming closer.

“Shh, shh, daddy’s got you, I got you.” He bites his lip, feeling his balls get heavier.

“Daddy, p-please let me t-taste your cum.”

“Oh my fucking god,” Jungkook almost came then and there, quickly pulling out of your drenched pussy and kneeling between your head, stroking his rock-hard cock furiously, “Fuck, Y/n, shiiiiiit,” he moans, gripping your left cheek in one hand as he strokes the fallen tears away with his thumb. “My good, pretty crybaby, gonna cum, gonna fucking cum!”

Your legs cross together as Jungkook’s cum spurts out, thick strings of his seed covers your face as your mouth opens wide, trying to catch them. Jungkook breathes heavily as he tries to aim at your tongue, but slightly fails as his body shakes from the strong orgasm. “Holy fuck,” he growls from the sight beneath him, watching you gulp down his hot cum. “Good fucking girl, fuck.”

He keeps stroking his dick until he’s completely fucked out, throwing his head back with his eyes closed. You watch him with big eyes, seeing how his adam’s apple bob up and down, his neck covered in beads of sweat. Little droplets would run down from his thick chest and to his defined abs. You whimpered, making him turn his attention back to you.

“Oh my fucking god, baby girl.” He chuckles, reaching to the nightstand to get the wet wipes. “I need to clean you,” he smirks, “even though you look hot like that.”

“Mmm, daddy,” you giggle, biting on your index finger as he cleans your face.

“Yes, baby girl?” he says, voice sweet and gentle, completely different from the tone he’s been using on you this whole time.

“Thank you.”

“What are you thanking me for, Y/n? I’m here supposed to say sorry to you, for pushing your precious, little body.” He fakes a frown, still wiping your sticky face.

“No, I-I loved it. I love playing with you like this daddy,” you giggle with a blush.

Jungkook hums, “Mhmm, I know baby girl. You like it when daddy plays with your body rough, huh? Like it when I make your body shake and tremble as you cry?”

You face turn redder, rolling your eyes playfully with a stupid grin.

“I take that as a yes.”

You groan and push his body away from you with as much strength as you can, but you clearly fail to do so. Jungkook giggles, feeling your small hands pressing firmly on his chest. He finds you so adorable. He flops on the space beside you as he quickly wraps an arm around your body, cuddling you. He tugs you closer to him, his chest resting on top of your head.

“Baby?” he questions.

“Hmm?”

“I was really surprised when you called me daddy.” Your face instantly blushes red again, covering your face with your hands as a quiet groan leaves your lifts. Jungkook smirks, “I didn’t know you were into that.”

“A-as if it didn’t turn you on.” You snicker shyly, feeling the grip he has on your waist tighten.

“Oh it did. It fucking did.”

Without a warning, Jungkook wraps his arms around you and swiftly lifts your body above him, placing you on top of him. You squeal as he makes you straddle his blanket-covered waist. He tugs your upper body down until your faces were mere inches apart.

Jungkook’s chest tightens when he sees that your eyes were still red from crying so much. He chews on his bottom lip, lifting his hands up to caress your cheeks. Your head felt so small between his large hands, and it somehow gave you a comfortable feeling – as if you were so safe in his hold. You instinctively lean into his palm, eyes fluttering at him.

“Oh, princess,” he exhales, his eyes drooping slightly as he looks at you so lovingly. “You’re so good for daddy. You’re only mine, get that?”

Nodding your head, you smile as you feel your heart beat faster. “I’m yours, only yours, daddy.”

You didn’t expect the harsh, deep growl that left Jungkook’s lips. Your eyes widen when he pushes his thumb inside your mouth, getting them wet as you automatically suck. You whimper when his other hand crawls down from your spine and down to your ass, gripping your sore cheek.

“Mmmphh—da..ddy,” you mewl, gagging a little when he pushes his thumb inside further. Jungkook prods a tongue on the inside of his cheek as he looks at you so darkly. With a devilish smirk, he slaps your butt sharply, the loud sound resonating throughout the room as your body shivers.

“D-Daddy…it hurts,” you pleaded at him with your eyes, wiggling your ass.

“I know.” He says simply. It wasn’t the reply that you wanted, causing you to groan out in frustration. “Can you take it?” he asks seriously, lifting a single brow up.

You start to sniff, a lump forming in your throat as you look away. You shake your head side to side slowly, “N-no, daddy.”

Jungkook quickly removes his thumb out of your mouth and instead pulls your head closer until your lips touch his. He wraps his arms around you, pressing your body onto him until there was no space left. You mewl as you couldn’t keep up with his dominant pace, manipulating the kiss and showing who’s in control. Your hands find their place on his hair, playing with his gorgeous locks because you knew how much he liked it.

Your cheeks heat up when you feel Jungkook smirk into the kiss. He leaves deep little moans and groans, making your stomach turn.

Jungkook was the first one to pull away before it gets more heated. He watches your face, how you were slightly out of breath and your cheeks pink.

Jungkook was so thankful that you spoke your mind, saying the truth that you couldn’t handle another round at this time. He could definitely go on for hours and hours, but he was thinking about you. He had a huge amount of stamina, and you know that. With you saying no, he knew that you really trusted him.

Jungkook lovingly strokes your hair, pushing the stray strands away from your face. “How about we take a bath, baby?”

Your eyes instantly light up, nodding furiously.

“Good.” Jungkook taps your side a couple of times and you move away from him so he can stand. “You stay there and look pretty while I run the water, yeah?”

You giggle, “Okay, daddy.”

Jungkook scoffs, shaking his head, “Don’t say that as if you want to be fucked stupid again, crybaby.”

There’s a part two!

Oh, and a part three?

#jungkook smut #btswriterscollective #btswritersguild #bangtansmutcentral #jungkook daddy #jungkook dom #jungkook hot

9K notes · View notes

peekaboongi · 5 years ago

Text

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: historical!au, fluff, angst, smut

Warnings: (past) minor child abandonment, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fingering, oral (female), yoongi can’t start fires, minor depictions of violence (someone gets kicked once), marking? kinda? yoongi lowkey has a consent kink, he says she belongs to him but he also says he belongs to her is that a kink? idk, a title kink? he likes when she calls him her king, pussy spanking, degradation/humiliation, name calling, cumplay ig? teasing, begging, one (1) titty slap, teasing, impregnation kink

Word Count: 16k+

Summary: Yoongi didn't plan to collide with you on that fateful day, but it's not long before you consume is every thought. As a palace maid, you weren't destined for greatness, but he seems to think otherwise.

↳ or, Yoongi wants to make you his queen

A/N: so this was supposed to be shameless pwp based on daechwita, but obviously that didn’t happen sldjfsldkj. this is the longest fic i’ve written to date, and it’s my baby so i hope you guys like it and give me feedback. i’ve honestly had so many people read this that i can’t remember all of them and i hope none of you take offense to that i just have the memory of a goldfish. BUT shoutout to @luffles424 for always encouraging me and supporting my ideas bc i really don’t think i would have finished this without you, and @wwilloww and @ot7always for catching all my mistakes (there were a lot of them) so that i didn’t have to go back and read all 16k

Vocab: Sangtugwan - the little crown thing on their tiny man bun Daenggi - the ribbon/tie hybrid that women used to put up their hair Jeogori - the top piece of the hanbok Goreum - the tie that holds the front of the jeogori closed Sillok - historical records Donggot - the hair pin that goes through the sangtugwan Hyung - an older brother Appa - dad

Your entry to the palace had been uneventful. Your father’s wife had sent you away to the palace to work as a maid. Whether the reason was because he loved your mother more than he loved his wife, or because he favored his illegitimate child over any of his other children, you weren’t sure. Perhaps it was both.

Catching the King’s eye had been a stroke of luck. You weren’t as pretty as his concubines, nor were you talented or skilled enough to garner his attention. You were a simple palace maid through and through with little knowledge of the outside world.

Having ascended to the throne at a young age, he was forced to grow up too quickly, having to learn the hard way who he could and couldn’t trust in order to protect himself and his younger brother, the only person who was an exception to his otherwise cold and uncaring nature.

Sweat beads on your brow as the summer sun bears down on you. Normally you spend your days cleaning the Royal Archives, but your friend Eunji had asked you to switch with her today so that she could watch the King’s younger brother who frequently spends his afternoons reading there. Had you known this would be one of the hottest days so far, you would’ve said no to her.

There is no denying that Prince Jungkook is handsome, but there are rules and regulations. Court ladies are not permitted to get married, and they certainly aren’t allowed to spend their days pining after the King’s younger brother. Still, as long as Eunji never acted on her infatuation, you saw no harm in letting her look.

You begin taking down the linens that had been hung up to dry earlier, folding them and placing them in the basket at your feet. A cool breeze blows through the palace causing your skirt to shift, and the goreum of your jeogori to flap slightly. When all the linens have been neatly folded and placed in the basket, you begin your trek back towards the maids’ living quarters.

Occupied by your thoughts, you fail to notice the man turning the corner before it’s too late. The sheets fall to the floor as you collide, muttering apologies as you bow to him. You look up when you hear no response and, had you not already bumped into him, meeting his eyes would have been a grave crime on its own.

Immediately you fall to your knees, and prostrate yourself before the King who, dressed in all his splendor, has you nearly shaking in your place. “Your Majesty! I beg your forgiveness!” You rub your hands together pleadingly. You can feel dozens of eyes on your form, but the King’s eyes seem to burn into you, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise.

“Stand up. What’s your name?” His voice is smooth like honey and despite the rumors that he is small in stature, he seems to tower above you.

“Song Y/N. Your Majesty.” Your voice quivers as you address him, hurriedly adding his title on to the end of your sentence. You keep your eyes trained on the wood floor, praying to the heavens that it might open up and swallow you whole.

His fingers, calloused from years of training with swords, grasp at your chin forcefully, but not without tenderness, almost as if he’s afraid he might break you. “Look at me.”

Hesitantly, you raise your eyes to meet his own. They trace the planes of his cheekbones and the delicate outline of his lips before settling on his eyes. You feel as if you are laid bare before him, his eyes cold and calculating as he takes you in.

Your eyes are drawn to the scar on his right eye, an result of an attempt on his life early in his reign. It was the only time he’d ever ordered for a public execution despite the various revolts against the throne since then.

“How long since you came to the palace?” he asks, the fingers that had been holding your chin now brushing across your cheek, leaving searing heat in their wake.

“Since I was a c-child, your Majesty.”

“How have I never seen you?” Perhaps if you knew him better, you would be able to decipher the look on his face before his eyes turn to steel again.

“I often clean the Royal Archives.” He was wrong. He had seen you plenty of times before but he’d never looked at you. Why would he when you were nothing more than a palace maid? If he remembers seeing you now, he makes no indication of it.

Later that night, a eunuch comes to the maids’ chambers, calling on you on behalf of the King. As you exit the room you can hear your peers mutter amongst themselves, likely wondering if you would return later that night. Or at all, really. You were no stranger to the harsh rumors that travel the palace grounds.

You have to hold your hands to keep them from shaking as you approach the King’s private quarters, wondering if perhaps this was the last night of your life. The rational part of you knows that if he wanted your head, he would have taken it earlier, but it does little to assuage your fears.

Rumors quickly spread about the king’s unusual infatuation with a palace maid, but whether he knew of them you were unsure. He told you right from the beginning that you were to address him by name in private, something that you are still getting used to.

The two of you would rarely speak to each other as he would often be working with official documents, but he always had food and drink on his table. Though, you hadn’t dared try anything until he’d taken the first bite.

Having been sent to the palace at such a young age, you were untrained in the activities ladies were supposed to know. While many girls of noble birth learned to dance, recite poetry, do embroidery, or serve tea, you had learned none of those things. Yoongi didn’t seem to care, though. When you asked him why he enjoyed your company despite being unable to accomplish such tasks, he’d simply said that it was because you were refreshing.

If he finished his duties before it was time to retire for the night, he would read you poems or stories from the West. He didn’t trust you yet, but you can see his barriers falling bit by bit. You can see it in the way he tells you about his relationship with his brother, and when he tells you about what happened during his day. You noticed he visited the Royal Archives more frequently these days, though he always avoided your gaze.

A fortnight later, he summons you to his room for the fifth time. You are still afraid of him—only a fool would be fearless—but you are more at ease in his presence now, your shoulders not as tense as the once were in his company.

So lost in your thoughts, you realize that you have already made the journey from the room you shared with the other maids to his own private chambers. His eunuch stops in front of the doors, clearing his throat.

“Miss Song Y/N, Your Majesty.”

The maids that linger outside his room open the doors for you at the king’s invitation, closing them behind you as you enter. Even after being here several times prior, the room’s beauty is still overwhelming compared to both your own living quarters and what you remember of your childhood home.

“Good evening, Your Majesty,” you bow politely.

“Did I not tell you to call me Yoongi?” His voice, while reprimanding, is gentle as he addresses you, looking up from the scroll in his hands.

“A-apologies, Yoongi.” You say his name softly, failing to keep your voice from wavering slightly.

The King gives a simple nod of acknowledgment before gesturing to the seat beside him, pouring wine into a cup for each of you. “Let’s drink tonight.” There are signs of weariness on his face, dark circles lining his eyes. He looks as if he’s lost weight since a fortnight ago, cheeks appearing slimmer than when you saw him last.

When he puts down the paper in his hands, you read the word “uprising” and are overcome with sympathy for the man before you. Despite the good he’s done for the country and its people, there are still people who believe he ascended to the throne too soon and they all too often caused problems for him.

Silently, you sit down next to him and accept the drink. Yoongi never says anything about how stiff you are around him, and he doesn’t make any unwanted advances on you, only ever interested in your company and your thoughts.

A few nights ago he had asked your opinion on the affairs of the kingdom. When you told him you were neither informed enough on the state of the kingdom nor educated enough to know what to say, he simply asked again, saying your level of education didn’t matter. You were his subject no matter your social standing. It was the reason that despite the uprisings, he rarely investigated despite being informed of them. Uprisings are the result of people who feel like their voices are not heard; of citizens who feel the government has wronged them in one way or another. No one deserves to die for trying to make their voice heard. If no one was accused of treason, no one would have to die. The only people he executed were those who were brought before him with incriminating evidence proving them guilty of treason.

“What’s wrong?” The words leave your lips before you have time to stop them. Briefly, a look of surprise flits across his face before his mask of indifference reappears.

“Nothing unusual,” he says self-deprecatingly as he pours both of you another drink. “Just some rebels causing trouble.”

You watch the way he raises the cup to his lips, admiring his elegant facial features, watching the way his eyelids flutter shut as he takes a sip of the alcohol. When he opens his eyes, they meet your own almost as if they are searching for something. Your eyes dart towards the painting behind him, avoiding the way they linger on your flushed face. You distract yourself by playing with the sleeves of your jeogori and refill your cup before drinking it all at once.

At some point during the night, you fall asleep with your head resting on your folded arms, watching as Yoongi draws something, though what, you aren’t sure. You’re only roused from your sleep when you feel strong arms wrap around you, lifting you from where you sit on the chair.

“What time is it?” you mumble as you raise a hand to rub at your eye.

“Late,” is the only thing he says as he lays you down in his bed. With the alcohol in your system and the exhaustion lulling you back to sleep, you can do little more than grab at his sleeve as he moves to leave.

Yoongi fails to mask his shocked expression on his face, but he sits next to you on the bed anyways. After a long day of working and then drinking with him, your hair has fallen out of place and he brushes it away from your face gently, the rough fingers tickling your cheek.

You fall asleep like that; with him tracing light circles into the back of your hand.

That night becomes a turning point in your relationship with the king. When you woke up the following morning, his eunuch—you’d learned his name was Jihoon—was setting out an extravagant breakfast. To his surprise, you’d told him that you would prefer to have rice and a bowl of stew. You also declined the hairpin left behind for you by the king.

Yoongi had asked you why you’d rejected his gift later that night when he called you back. After explaining that you didn’t want expensive or exotic things from overseas, something in him shifted. The king, who had a reputation for being cold and disinterested in just about everything, seemed less weighed down by politics in your presence and more sociable.

Months later, Yoongi enters your private quarters—one of his many gifts despite your objections. Despite being closer now, he still takes your breath away when you see him, though no longer out of fear. Dressed in the finest silks in all of Joseon, the black and gold robes make him appear untouchable, but the gummy smile he sends your way does little to deter you from snorting at him when he pulls a box from behind his back.

“What is it now?”

“You know, most women would think it a privilege to receive a gift from me,” he says, nonchalantly.

You smile saccharinely at him as he rolls his eyes. “What do I have the honor of receiving from you, Your Majesty?”

“Very funny,” he sits on your bed and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you towards him. Knowing that there’s no fighting him when he wants something, you resign yourself to whatever it is he wants, resting your hands in your lap as you turn your back to him, sitting across his legs..

With careful hands, Yoongi undoes the cloth daenggi that holds up your hair, folding it gently and setting it in your hands. Then, opening the small wooden box resting next to you, he pulls out a silk daenggi. The silk shimmers in the light of your room, the delicately embroidered flowers contrasting elegantly with the vibrant red of the fabric.

The king struggles briefly, unfamiliar with how to tie the strip of fabric to the end of your braid. However, it’s not long before he sits back to admire his work. “I think I did pretty well.”

Reaching behind you you bring your braid around to the front and inspect his handiwork. Despite being a little uneven and loose, it’s not bad considering Yoongi hardly ever dresses himself, let alone another person.

“I’m impressed,” you muse to yourself, turning it over in your hands, the old daenggi placed in the wooden box.

Silence fills the room but unlike several months ago, it’s not suffocating. With Yoongi’s arms wrapped around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder, you close your eyes. You can feel his breath on the sensitive skin of your neck and a pleasant shiver runs down your spine as fingers mindlessly trace up and down your arm.

It’s no secret that as the reigning king, he has a number of concubines—many who send hateful looks your way these days—and thus has plenty of experience. He’s no different from any other man who has physical desires. You can tell by the way he kisses you like he wants to savor you and devour you at the same time. You can tell by the way his hands caress your sides or how he brushes his knuckles over your cheek. You can tell by the way he looks at you like he wants to throw you on the bed and make you scream his name until you’re hoarse. Despite his obvious desire to bed you though, he has made no move to do so and you aren’t sure whether to be thankful or offended.

“It’s getting late.” You reach up to thread your fingers through his hair gently. “You should go back and get some sleep.”

You can see a lingering question in his eyes as he gets up to leave, and you find your heart sinking when he exits without asking it.

When Eunji appears in the Royal Archives giggling the next morning, you know you’re in trouble. You aren’t sure how she did it, but she managed to get the head lady to assign her to the archives not long after the first night Yoongi summoned you to his room.

“A little bunny told me you got another gift from the king,” you feel her pat you on the back approvingly, briefly brushing her fingers over the daenggi.

“Did you finally tell Prince Jungkook that you like him?” You roll your eyes at her nickname for the prince. After months of pining after the shy younger brother of the king, the boy finally said hello to Eunji, something that had her grinning from ear to ear for the remainder of the week.

“What if he doesn’t like me back,” your best friend exclaims, throwing her arms up.

You laugh. “If he says he doesn’t like you, then he’s a fool and a liar. He follows you around in the Archives like a lost puppy.” You see it when he pretends to be studying only for his eyes to flit towards your friend and the way he always makes sure to greet her when he comes in despite being well above either of your station.

You can’t help but wonder if Yoongi looks at you the same way when you aren’t looking, or if he thinks about you during the day the same way your mind often drifts towards thoughts of him. It’s foolish to hope that he might, but you find that you’ve been acting like a fool as of late.

The sound of footsteps approaching pulls you from your thoughts.

“Y/N, His Highness is looking for the sillok from King Sejeong’s reign, but I don’t know where they are,” Eunji says, gesturing to Jungkook who stands slightly behind her with his head bowed in a rather un-princelike manner. While they may be brothers born from the same womb, the two of them could not be any more different.

Where Yoongi appeared cold and calculating and always gave off an air of confidence, Jungkook is much less cut out for the noble life. The boy is shy and would much rather spend his days doing combat training for hours on end instead of studying scriptures and Confucianism.

“I told you to remember where things are,” you say through your teeth as you smile at the prince.

“I know, I promise I’ll memorize it soon!” she pleads with you, but it’s not as though you can reject a request from a member of the royal family.

“Follow me, Your Highness. They’re right this way.”

After showing Jungkook to the records, you begin your work reshelving the books he had previously looked at, rolling your eyes at the way Eunji stares, slack jawed at him.

The afternoon goes by quickly, as you help Jungkook find the things that Eunji can’t, and clean up after the scholars leave their materials strewn about. Before long, the setting sun casts long shadows, a sign reminding you that after dinner you might finally have a chance to see Yoongi. That thought has you rushing to finish reorganizing the shelves.

By the time you return to your room, Jihoon, is standing outside waiting for you. “His Majesty requests your company this evening, Miss Y/N.”

Silently, the two of you make your way across the palace grounds to Yoongi’s chambers. Despite seeing him frequently and being friendly with the eunuch, he barely spares you a second glance.

The night is cold, a strong wind blowing through the palace. Trees stir and your skirt rustles as your shoes clack across the stone paths. The night sky is filled with stars, something you remember your father telling you about when you were a child—about pictures in the sky.

Jihoon announces your arrival when you reach the doors to Yoongi’s room before you walk in. Upon hearing a crash, you rush into the room only to be greeted with the sight of a man that looks like the king, but with hair so blond, it looks almost silver in the dim lighting. There’s a bowl on the ground—likely the source of the crashing noise—with dark black liquid spilling out of it.

There’s a look in his eyes that you can’t quite decipher before he’s turning away from you. “Don’t look at me.” Despite the harsh words, his voice wavers when he speaks.

“I won’t look,” you reassure him, turning around.

When he’s sure you won’t look back at him, he goes back to what he was doing before you barged in. When he finally tells you you can look again, the blond hair seems to glow, contrasting with his warm skin and dark eyes. There’s still a black puddle on the floor, but he pays no mind to it, only looking at you.

“You aren’t scared.” Though it’s posed as a statement, there’s uncertainty in his eyes.

You cross the room to stand in front of him, looking up to meet his eyes. “You’ve never given me any reason to fear you,” you say, matter-of-factly. You can see the way his shoulders drop in relief at your words, and the knowledge that he feels the need to hide something like this out of fear sends a pang through your heart, the need to comfort him overwhelming.

You wrap your arms around his torso, looking up at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“The only people who know are my brother and Jihoon,” he says before adding, “and my parents, though they’re dead,” he chuckles. One of his hands rests on the small of your back while the other reaches up to gently stroke your head. “My parents dyed it the moment they knew it wasn’t black, though I never questioned why at the time. Now that I’ve grown up, I understand that people would probably call me a demon, or someone cursed by the gods. If something were to happen where I can’t protect Jungkook anymore…”

He doesn’t need to finish his sentence for you to understand. With half of the officials already hating him, he doesn’t need to give them any more reasons to think he’s unfit for the throne. It hurts you to know that people wouldn’t accept him like this.

“I like it,” you say before you have time to think about it. Yoongi holds you at arms-length, searching your face for any hint of a lie. When he finds none, he smiles. It’s something that you wish you could see more of.

“Thank you, Y/N. I mean it.”

You reach up and pat him on the head. “Now let me go so that I can clean up the mess you made,” you grin, trying to uplift the mood.

“You don’t have to,” he says, frowning as you turn away from him.

“I’m a maid, Yoongi. It’s what I do.” You laugh when he sits on the bed with a grimace. “If you let me do this, I’ll help you dye your hair again. If it’s okay with you, that is.”

“Usually Jungkook’s the one who does it, but it seems like he won’t be coming tonight,” the king scoffs. “Something about a girl, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Eunji finally sunk her claws into him,” you mutter to yourself before looking up and seeing the way Yoongi looks at you in shock. “Metaphorically! She’s nice, I promise.” She’d better be, there’s nothing the king wouldn’t do to protect his younger brother.

When the black liquid—hair dye, as you now know—is finally cleaned off the floor, Yoongi helps you prepare another batch. He sits in the chair as you stand behind him, massaging it into his hair, watching as the black dye seeps into the blond strands. The king hums contentedly as he lets you work, and you’re grateful that he trusts you enough to let his guard down like this.

You spend that evening helping him dye his hair again, and you’re a bit sad that the blond was so short lived. After the blond locks have been sufficiently doused in black dye, you make your departure for the night, leaving him to rinse his hair on his own despite his protests for you to stay.

You’re unsurprised to find Eunji waiting for you in your room, wanting to hear about the most recent development in your relationship with the king. It’s only when you enter your chambers and see the Cheshire grin on her face that you realize you yourself had a smile plastered across your face.

“Something good happened,” your best friend says and at her knowing look, you feel heat rise to your cheeks.

You try to brush it off, telling her it was nothing, but you should have known better than to think she would leave you alone. Still, you don’t feel right telling her that Yoongi’s hair is naturally blond, something that only two other people know. Not that you don’t trust Eunji, but Yoongi trusts you, and you don’t intend to take it for granted.

“We just did some trust exercises.” It comes out as more of a question, but she doesn’t say anything about it, simply nodding for you to continue. “We talked about his childhood,” you add on, rolling your eyes.

Eunji keeps you up into the early hours of the morning, but you don’t mind. It reminds you of simpler times when the two of you had entered the palace, just two girls against the world.

The next time you see Yoongi is a week later. Word of another uprising had reached the palace earlier in the week, and he had to settle the rebels, something that—despite having done so on several previous occasions—leaves the man stressed and exhausted both emotionally and physically.

When you enter his chambers, the king is sat in his bed, hunched over the small table in front of him. Stray hairs have fallen down around his face, the black strands casting shadows on the scar that runs across his eye. Seeing the dark circles under his eyes, you find yourself wishing he could get a break from his kingly duties, but you suppose that’s a bit much to ask for the ruler of an entire Kingdom.

Carefully, you remove the sangtugwan from his top knot, placing the round metal accessory on the table beside him. Yoongi’s hands reach up to let his hair down, the black strands framing his face beautifully. After seeing him with his natural hair, you miss the blond more than you’d like to admit, something about the way the light reflects off of it undeniably attractive.

The king pulls you in by the waist, causing you to fall next to him rather ungracefully. You focus on the sound of his breathing, trying to distract yourself from the way you’re pushed up against him, his hand rubbing circles into your hip. He smells like the earth after it rains, the pleasant aroma intoxicating.

You unintentionally make eye contact with Yoongi, his dark brown irises almost invisible in the dim lighting. He looks like he wants to devour you, and you don’t think you would stop him if he did.

Yoongi moves first. His free hand moves up to cradle the back of your head before he leans in, eyes still watching you. Your heart jumps in your chest and despite having wanted this for weeks, you find that you aren’t sure what to do. The senior maids never taught you anything about how to please a man.

He takes your lower lip between his teeth, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. Needing something to ground you, you fist at his robes, wrinkling the fine fabric. He tastes of mint and honey and mixed with the scent of freshly fallen rain, all of your senses are overwhelmed by him.

Despite having been visibly exhausted just moments earlier, he kisses you with renewed vigor. The hand on your hip moves up your side slowly, hesitantly. When you don’t move to stop him, he gently caresses the curve of your breast through your top before he takes the goreum between his slender fingers.

Yoongi pulls away from you and you reluctantly let go of his robes. “We can stop right now with no questions asked,” he says. “We can act like this never happened.” The hand on the back of your neck moves to cup your cheek, the thumb brushing over the soft skin almost lovingly. “Are you sure you want to keep going,” he asks again when you nod.

“Yes.” You answer him without pause. “Yes.” You comb your fingers through his hair.

The king looks at you for a long moment, searching for any signs of hesitation. You’re about to reassure him when he kisses you again. He’s rougher this time—like he can’t get enough of you—a stark contrast to the gentle way he undresses you.

With one hand he pulls loose the tie that holds your jeogori closed. The garment falls open before you shrug out of it, untying the strings of your skirt with practiced ease. He removes the straps of the skirt from your shoulders, followed by the cloth around your chest and your underwear.

With his other hand, he lets down your hair, the daenggi he gifted you falling to the floor with the rest of your clothes. Yoongi cards his fingers through your hair, loosening the braid and causing your hair to fall freely over your breasts before he brushes it aside.

Yoongi gently pushes you so that your back rests against the head of the bed. You bring your hands up to cover yourself, suddenly aware of how bare you are to him, self-conscious of your appearance. As king, Yoongi has plenty of concubines and feeling lackluster in comparison, your shy away from him.

He gently takes your hands in his own. Heat rushes to your cheeks, but he says nothing of it. Instead, he asks you again if you’re okay with this. “If you don’t feel the same, we can still stop,” he says, thumb rubbing circles into the back of your hand. There isn’t a hint of disappointment or anger in his eyes, only acceptance, if not a bit of fear, afraid that you might not care for him the way he does for you.

Your heart aches at the thought that he might think you don’t care for him. You can’t think of anyone besides Eunji that you’ve cared for to this extent. Not since you came to the palace as a child.

“I do feel the same!” The words come out rushed and louder than you intended, but Yoongi smiles at your outburst. “It’s just…” you take your lip between your teeth, trying to find the right words. “I’m not pretty like one of your concubines,” you say softly, looking away from him.

“Is that what you’re worried about? That I don’t find you attractive?” His words are gentle. “You might not be pretty like my concubines, but you’re pretty like you, Y/N—and I happen to think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” One of his hands moves to your face, thumb brushing against your cheek.

Your heart soars at his words and you’re overcome by emotion. A tear slides down your cheek before you quickly wipe it away, causing Yoongi to chuckle softly.

“If you have any reservations at all, we don’t have to go any further.”

“Please,” you pull at his robes. “I want this. I want you.”

Yoongi leans back and removes his clothing, baring himself to you, eyes never leaving your own as he undresses.

When he is fully naked, you spend a moment just looking at him before either of you move again. Hesitantly, you run your hands over the smooth expanse of his chest, trying to memorize every hill and valley. Slowly, you move your fingers over the outline of his abdomen, the muscles rippling under your touch.

Yoongi stays still as you explore his body, seemingly content to let your hands roam over him. He only speaks when your hands dip below his navel and pause before going further like you aren’t quite sure what to do next.

Unmoving, he asks “Have you done this before?” At the shake of your head, his familiar gummy smile spreads across his face, causing your stomach to flip and your heart to skip a beat. “Then let me focus on you.”

“But I want to make you feel good,” you pout slightly.

“You can, another time,” he chuckles. “Making you feel good will make me feel good, too.” His fingers brush against the underside of your breast before lightly tracing circles around your nipples with his thumbs. “Can I?”

“Please,” you whine at the sensation.

Taking one of the buds into his mouth, he circles it with his tongue, sucking gently. You arch your back at the pleasurable feeling, searching from more. Yoongi takes this as encouragement, rolling the neglected peak between his thumb and forefinger until it’s hard.

Slowly, he begins kissing his way down your stomach, leaving goosebumps in his wake. When his lips wrap around your clit and suck, you buck your hips involuntarily as you bury your hands in his hair, crying out at the foreign yet pleasurable feeling.

His hands gently push your thighs apart before he settles in between them. Licking between your folds, his tongue prods at your entrance teasingly as he enjoys the broken moans that leave your lips.

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re so sensitive.” Yoongi drags his middle finger through your folds, collecting your arousal. Looking up at you, his tongue swipes across the finger, the digit glistening with your slick in the candlelight. The look in his eyes as he makes eye contact with you causes your walls to clench in anticipation.

“Please, Yoongi.”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to touch me, make me feel good.”

“I am touching you. Does this not feel good?” He kisses your inner thigh, hands gliding over the smooth skin. Your hands pull at his hair hard enough to cause pain, but Yoongi simply continues teasing you, fingers lightly tracing designs across the skin. “You’re going to have to be a bit more specific.”

“Here, want you here.” One of your hands moves down to the apex of your thighs, spreading apart your lower lips. The unobstructed view of your cunt as it clenches around nothing elicits a growl from the king before he replaces your hand with his own.

Carefully, so as not to hurt you, he inserts a single finger into your heat. The discomfort lasts for only a moment before it’s replaced with pleasure. Seeing your face relax, he begins thrusting the digit in and out, slowly working you open. After several minutes, he speeds up, thrusting his finger into your warm walls.

“More, please,” you whine, one finger no longer enough.

Your moans of pleasure fill the otherwise quiet room when Yoongi adds another finger. Carefully, he begins to stretch you out with a scissoring motion, causing your hips to lift off the bed to meet his movements.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Wanna watch your face when you come,” he groans.

You rarely have time to pleasure yourself, and when you do have time, you often fall asleep before you can. Still, you’ve fingered yourself a handful of times, but it doesn’t compare to the way Yoongi does it. His fingers are longer and thicker than your own, stretching you more than you’ve ever done yourself.

Never breaking eye contact with you, Yoongi’s tongue alternates between pressing flat against your clit and drawing circles around the bud, enjoying the pleasured moans he pulls from your lips. He repeats these actions until you’re trembling beneath him, the pressure in your stomach growing. It’s when his fingers brush against a certain spot and you see stars, that your high washes over you.

Your back arches off the bed as you moan the king’s name loud enough for the people outside to hear, but you’re so lost in the throes of pleasure that you don’t care. Never have you been able to bring yourself to such a strong climax, one that has you seeing white.

Yoongi laps at your essence greedily, fingers continuing to pump in and out of you through your orgasm until it’s almost painful. Your fists tighten around his hair, trying to push him away, but he doesn’t budge. Not until he’s cleaned you properly, leaving no traces of your orgasm.

“Fuck, you look so pretty when you fall apart for me,” he comes up, licking the residual arousal from his fingers, tongue darting out cheekily as you watch him, unable to look away in your pleasurable haze. Leaning forward, he kisses you, and you can taste yourself on his tongue.

When he pulls away, his eyes are soft, more so than they usually are. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” He grins, gently patting down your hair and brushing it away from your face.

“You didn’t finish.” Your words are mumbled and slur together, all your energy depleted. “I want to help you, too.” Reaching out to him, your frown when he pulls away from you. You hadn’t realized how cold you were until he lays the comforter over your naked body.

“We can do that next time.” He wraps his arm around you, pulling you close to him resting his chin in the crook of your neck. “You’re tired. Go to sleep, love.”

Were you more aware, you might have commented on the term of endearment, but you’re far too tired. Instead, you become aware of the way his breath tickles the skin on your neck, the way his chest rises and falls in time to your own.

Encompassed by his form and his comforting scent, it’s not long before you succumb to your exhaustion.

You wake up the following morning to the rustling of clothes. Slowly sitting up in bed, you giggle at the sight of the king fumbling around in his undergarments. There’s light streaming in through the screen windows, though it’s dim enough that you don’t need to worry about being late to work.

“What are you doing,” you step up beside him, looking over his shoulder curiously as he rummages through the pile of discarded clothes on the ground

“I’m looking for my sangtugwan and the donggot,” he says, not looking at you.

Rolling your eyes, you make your way to the table you set the headpiece on last night. “It’s over here,” you laugh lightly.

Turning to you, Yoongi’s breath catches in his throat at the sign of you naked, illuminated by the golden hues of the morning sun. He only stops staring when you clear your throat, a pink tinge visible on your cheeks.

“You look beautiful,” the king says, in awe of your beauty. Gentle hands brush against your collarbone as he admires you. There are no underlying sexual motives though. The affection he has for you is clear in the way he looks at you like you’re his entire world, and that thought causes your heart to skip a beat.

“Y-you wanted this.” You hold the crown out to him, trying to ignore the way your cheeks flush at his attention.

“Will you help me put it on?”

“Let me get dressed first.” You can tell that he wants to make a joke about your state of undress, but he keeps it to himself.

You pick your own clothes up off the floor and get dressed, attempting to smooth out the wrinkles that resulted due to lying in a pile all night. The daenggi that Yoongi gifted you lies on the ground, and you frown.

“I can’t believe you just dropped this on the ground,” you chastise the king. Bending down to pick it up, you brush it off, making sure that any dust or dirt on it is gone.

Yoongi pouts at your words, not liking being reprimanded by you. “It’s just a strip of fabric,” he says downtrodden.

“It’s a pretty strip of fabric that you gave me.” You won’t tell him this, but you treasure the gifts he gives you, always careful not to damage or break them. He frequently brushes it off when he gives you gifts, saying that it was the first thing he saw, or that he just had it lying around and didn’t want it anymore. Regardless of his excuses, you know that he puts more thought into his actions than he’d like for people to believe.

You see the way he agonizes over certain petitions, trying to come up with a solution that will satisfy everyone, and he always cleans his room himself so that the maids have less work to do. That’s why even when you know he’d offer to replace something immediately, you want to cherish the presents because you also know how much consideration goes into the gifts.

It’s odd, you think, to see the man known as coldhearted and uninterested in most affairs act so thoughtfully. It’s sad that people can’t see him the way you do, but there’s something comforting about being one of the few people to know him so well.

Ignoring the way he grumbles about you being overly sentimental, you continue to dress, trying to smooth out the fabric and ultimately failing. Yoongi spends the time looking over the pile of petitions on the table, glancing up at you occasionally with an indecipherable look on his face.

When you finish getting dressed, you ask him to sit in the chair so that you can more easily see what you’re doing. You pull his long black hair away from where it falls around his slender shoulders, tying it up into a bun. Yoongi has to help instruct you along the way since you aren’t sure what you’re doing, but he’s patient.

“You called me ‘love’ last night,” you say quietly, afraid that you heard him wrong, or maybe even imagined it. You help him with his headband, making sure that it’s secure.

“I did.”

Carefully, you place the metal cylinder around his sangtu, making sure that there are no stray hairs. “Why?”

After you slide the donggot through the crown and the bun, Yoongi stands up, turning to face you. He takes your face into his rough hands almost reverently, like he’s afraid of hurting you. Looking you in the eyes, you can see nothing but admiration, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“Because you, Song Y/N, are beautiful both on the outside and in here,” he points at your chest. “You’ve seen parts of me that few other people have, and you accepted them. You did not run when you saw my hair, nor did you condemn me for my differences.”

“Anyone would do the same.” It’s a lie, and you both know it. There are plenty of people at court who would jump at the opportunity to dethrone him and have him exiled—or worse.

“It doesn’t matter what other people would or wouldn’t do. They aren’t you.”

You can hear your heartbeat pounding, and you worry that he can hear it too. He looks at you—not for the first time—with uncertainty, something akin to fear accompanying it, resting his forehead against your own. His calloused thumb rubs gentle circles on your cheek and you find yourself leaning into his comforting touch.

“I love you, but if you don’t feel the same, I will not force you to stay any longer. All you need to do is say the word and you can leave the palace. Sell my gifts and live a life better than this one. I would not blame you.” There’s a sadness in his eyes that breaks your heart.

“I don’t know much about the affairs of the heart,” you start, one of your hands wrapping around the back of his neck. “But I know that I don’t wish to be somewhere you aren’t.”

The elated smile that spreads across Yoongi’s face fills you with joy, and you take comfort in the way he relaxes into your hold.

The two of you jump apart at the sound of Jihoon’s voice at the door. “Your Majesty,” he calls, waiting for the king to invite him in, maids with trays of food following him closely behind. It’s embarrassing, the way you practically drool at the food, unaware of just how hungry you are, and you can hear the king snicker softly.

Breakfast for you is short, as you need to get to work quickly. You send Yoongi one last look before leaving him to enjoy the rest of his meal.

The first time you say the words ‘I love you’ is no more than a fortnight later. It’s unromantic, an accident, and you barely remember it. They slip out after a night of drinking with Yoongi, which your tongue has been loosened by the alcohol and your inhibitions are gone.

You laugh at the way his eyes widen in surprise before his expression softens. He gently lets your hair down, making sure to place the daenggi he gifted to you in a mother of pearl box that sits on your dresser, the most recent gift he’s given you.

The king is careful not to pull on your hair when he slips your outermost garments off, struggling to do so with the way you cling to him in your drunken haze. When he has finally managed to evade your wildly waving arms and your hands that grab at him, it’s been a good twenty minutes.

Folding the clothes to keep them from wrinkling, he sets them on the dresser. When he turns around to face the bed, you are sprawled out on your back with your mouth scrunched up in a pout as you look at him.

“Come back here,” you slur, tongue unable to wrap around the sounds properly.

“I’m coming, love.” He chuckles, carefully tucking you underneath your blankets. “You’re a mess, you know that?” Yoongi brushes the hair away from your face, admiring the way the light flickers on your cheeks.

“‘M your mess though.”

“I suppose you are,” he kisses you on the forehead, getting up to leave.

“Don’t go,” you mumble, hand darting out to grab his robes before he can get too far. “Stay.”

“You need to sleep.” He knows there’s no use in trying to reason with someone as drunk as you are, but he doesn’t have the heart to leave you when you look up at him with unfocused eyes.

“But I love you.” The words come out as a whisper as sleep begins to overtake you, but Yoongi hears them all the same.

“I love you too,” he says, gently stroking your hair until you fall asleep.

It’s not long before the leaves fall from the trees and the days get shorter and grow colder. Eunji and Prince Jungkook spend many afternoons together, often shirking their responsibilities to do something ridiculous, but you see no harm in it as long as they’re both happy. You’re glad to see that your friend has finally stopped her flirtations with every man she sees.

The king and you grow closer as the days go by. It’s unusual when you don’t see him at all on any given day, even if only for a few minutes. You look forward to these small moments in between your daily responsibilities, whether you get to talk or just send him a small smile, your day doesn’t feel complete without seeing him at least once.

“Y/N, Y/N! It’s snowing!” Eunji’s excited yell from the courtyard startles you.

Sure enough, as you walk outside, the ground is dusted in white powder, more of it falling from the sky above. The cold tickles your cheeks and reddens your nose, and you shiver.

“It’s so cold,” you complain to your best friend who seems too preoccupied throwing handfuls of snow at Prince Jungkook to hear you.

Laughing and shaking your head, you turn to go back inside only for the entrance to the Royal Archives to be blocked by Yoongi.

“Your Majesty,” you greet him, bowing, You can see the slight downturn of the corners of his lips at your formality, but he says nothing of it. “Can I do something for you?”

Clearing his throat, he turns away from you with red cheeks, either from the cold or his embarrassment, you can’t tell. You have a sneaking suspicion it has more to do with the latter, though. “Would you like to join me for a walk, love?”

Even though it’s been a while since he first called you that, it still makes heat rise to your cheeks as your heart skips a beat.

You can see your fellow maids peeking out of the archives in the background, envy and curiosity in their eyes, but you’re only focused on Yoongi. His hair needs to be dyed again soon, you think to yourself at how light his hair has gotten.

When you asked him why he doesn’t use a more permanent dye, he simply shrugged and said that none of them took to his hair very well. You have your doubts about his explanation, but you didn’t push him further.

“I still have a couple of hours before I finish—”

“We can take care of it,” Eunji cuts you off. “Bunny can help too,” she pulls the prince over, fingers entwining. If either of the royals think anything of the nickname, they say nothing.

“I really don’t think it’s appropriate to ask him to h—”

“It’s fine, really!” You get interrupted again when Prince Jungkook speaks up. “You go have fun with hyung!” He sends his brother a knowing look.

“Then it’s settled,” the king says, leaving no room for you or anyone else to argue, not that anyone else would dare decline an invitation from him.

Yoongi pulls you away and towards his room, before turning down a path you’ve never seen before. Seldom used, plants grow between the stones laid out on the ground. Barren trees line the way before opening up to a clearing.

You can hear the sound of running water nearby but your attention is drawn to the gazebo at the edge of the treeline, blankets and food set out for the two of you. There’s a fire pit not too far from the structure, large rocks placed around a pile of firewood covered by a piece of fabric.

Beside you, Yoongi looks at you with nervousness, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet in a rather undignified manner. The sight makes your heart swell with joy, a big smile spreading across your face.

“Did you do all of this yourself?”

“Jungkook and Jihoon helped a bit, but do you like it?”

“I love it,” you squeeze his hand gently. “It’s beautiful.”

His shoulders sag in relief, as he leads you to the gazebo. Yoongi helps you step up onto the platform, making sure you’re settled. He pours you a cup of tea before going to start the fire.

You take in your surroundings, paying attention to the way nature seems to be reclaiming the small area. Vines grow up the worn wood of the gazebo, most of the paint chipped off by now. The sound of water appears to be coming from beyond the clearing on the other end, likely a small stream running through the palace grounds. You can make out faint animal prints near the treeline, but you can’t identify them.

The sound of Yoongi grunting pulls your attention back to him. Hunched over the pile of wood, he struggles to start a fire, and you can see his hands shaking slightly from the cold. His breath comes out in puffs before dissipating into the air. Covering your mouth to hide the laugh that escapes you, you get up and slip your shoes on again, ignoring how cold they are in contrast to your feet which had been tucked underneath the blankets.

“Do you need some help?” He startles at your voice, turning to look at you sheepishly.

“Do you know how?”

“I’ve worked in the kitchens my fair share,” you shrug. “I know a thing or two.”

Instead of doing it for him, you help him through it, instructing him on what to do. Though it takes longer than it would have if you’d done it from the start, the satisfied look on his face makes it worth it.

The snow continues to fall, but the fire burns easily enough. The two of you go back to the gazebo and huddle under the blankets together. The food grows cold in the time that it takes to get the fire going—something that Yoongi apologizes profusely for—but you don’t mind. The tea is still warm and you heat the food up by the fire.

“I’m sorry you’re doing most of the work,” he mumbles, chin resting on your shoulder as he holds you from behind, legs spread out on either side of you. “My tutors never really taught me how to do this.” His breath tickles the skin on your neck, and you lean back into him, raising an arm to gently stroke his cheek.

“It’s fine. This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. Is there a reason for all this, though?”

“It’s the first snowfall,” he says flatly like it was obvious.

“I wasn’t aware that you knew what that means. Or that you’re a superstitious person,” you laugh lightly.

“I wasn’t.” The deep baritone of his laugh fills your ears, his chest shaking behind you. “Jungkook came running into my study yelling about it.” The mental image has you smiling fondly, envious of the sibling bond they have. “Jihoon also said that a lot of couples spend the first snow together. And,” he adds, “I’m not superstitious.”

“Then why do all this?”

“Because,” he pulls away from you, and you look back at him in confusion, suddenly cold where his arms once were. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“You’re scaring me Yoongi,” you turn to face him fully.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do. How could I not?” Your heart pounds rapidly in your chest, afraid of where things are going. It’s rare when he’s this serious in your presence. The only other time you can remember being when he caught wind of palace gossip about you and how some of his concubines had been harassing you.

You’d never seen him that mad before. At first, you were afraid that he was mad at you before he calmed down enough to explain it to you, though he was still upset that you didn’t tell him sooner. You don’t know what he did, but those women stopped the very next day, and they hadn’t approached you since.

“And,” he starts, eyes meeting your own. “You love me, right?”

“I–Of course I do.” You stutter briefly, taken aback by how serious he’s being.

“Good. That’s good.”

“Yoongi?” You gently pry for more information. “What is this about?”

“Well, I was wondering if...that is, if you want to...maybe…” Usually well-spoken, the shy stuttering man before you would normally be rather endearing to you. You wait for him to find his words before he starts speaking again. Taking a deep breath, he continues. “I want to wed you, Song Y/N,” he says resolutely. “I want to make you my queen.”

For a long while, neither one of you says anything. You search his eyes for any hint of doubt or hesitation, but all you see is pure, unadulterated love and adoration. The only sounds in the clearing are that of your breathing, the crackling fire, and the stream. You don’t even feel cold anymore.

“Y/N?” Yoongi seems to take your silence as rejection, his face falling. “It was foolish of me to—”

Your lips are on his before he can even finish the thought, hands coming up to wrap around the back of his neck. The kiss is messy and impassioned, teeth knocking against each other as he slips his tongue over your own. His hands wrap around your cheek and waist, pulling you impossibly close to him. You can’t tell if it’s your own body you feel heating up, or if you can feel him through the layers of clothing, but you know that all you can see, feel, and hear is him. Neither one of you wants to pull away, but the need for air wins in the end.

The two of you pant, the cold winter air filling your lungs, the heat that was there just moments before disappearing as you watch your breath come out in puffs. Your clothes are wrinkled and the blankets fell off some time along the way, but you don’t care.

“Does this mean the answer is yes?”

“I’m just a palace maid, but if you’ll have me, yes. A million times yes.” You can just barely feel tears slide down your cheeks as your eyelashes freeze together, but all you care about is the man in front of you.

Cold hands come up to brush away the wetness, but it just causes you to cry more. “You’re so much more than that,” he says. “You’re the woman I fell in love with.”

You don’t see Yoongi for days after that, but news quickly spreads around the palace. Some people send you dirty looks or whisper things behind your back when they think you can’t hear them, but you pay no attention to them. Eunji barged into your room the next morning, and you feared for your eardrums with how loudly she was yelling.

You hadn’t quite understood what she was saying but you laughed all the same. Despite the news that the king was getting married, your life continued much the same as it had been going.

A fortnight goes by like this before you see Yoongi again when he calls you to keep him company in his study. It hasn’t been that long, but there are dark circles under his eyes and he looks thinner.

Immediately, you go to his side, kneeling beside him at the table in front of him. “What’s wrong? Are you sleeping enough? Eating enough?”

“Hello to you too, love.” He wraps an arm around your waist and kisses your temple. “The court officials had some things to say of me marrying you,” he explains.

You try to hide the way your shoulders fall a little at his words, but he can tell, the hand on your waist squeezing gently.

“I don’t need to be queen,” you say. “It doesn’t matter to me as long as I get to stay by your side.”

“I know, love, but I want to be able to show the world how much you mean to me,” he stops writing for a moment to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. “I’ll find a way to placate them.”

You don’t know how much time passes like that, the two of you sitting side by side in silence as he works. Eventually, you lie down and rest your head in his lap, content to close your eyes. Yoongi’s hand gently strokes your head, and you fall asleep.

Jihoon wakes you up, announcing the arrival of someone, you think you hear something about the Royal Investigations Bureau, but you can’t quite catch it. The king waits until you’re sitting upright to tell the eunuch to let the man in, but you don’t hear anything after that.

Your eyes settle on the man being quite literally dragged in by the guard. His cheeks are cut and bruised, and the stray hairs not held by his headband are matted to his forehead. Blood is splattered on his clothes, and you hope it’s not his.

Even after all your years spent away from him, your father looks the same as the day his wife sent you away. If Yoongi notices the way you stiffen, he does little to acknowledge it.

“What is it?” You haven’t seen him act so cold and indifferent since your first encounter with him, and if you didn’t know him better, it would scare you how quickly he can change his personas.

“Your Majesty,” the guard looks to you, unsure of whether he should continue with you present until Yoongi motions for him to go on. “This man was found with documents planning an attempt on your life as well as Prince Jungkook’s,” He throws your father on the floor, and he can barely keep himself upright. It takes everything you have to keep from crying right there, and you fist at the fabric of your skirts, knuckles turning white.

Your father coughs, trying to sit up. “Y-your Majesty.” His voice is hoarse, nothing like the warm and comforting sound you remember from your childhood. Before he can say more though, the guard kicks him.

“These are the papers.” He holds papers out, and Jihoon takes them from him before handing them to the king, eyes meeting your own for the briefest of moments before he’s returning to his place off to the side.

Yoongi reads over the papers, looking at your father occasionally. You can’t tell what he’s thinking though, and you find yourself biting your lip hard enough to draw blood, the coppery taste heavy on your tongue.

He opens his mouth to speak but before he has a chance to say anything, you interrupt him, a grave offense on its own.

“S-stop!”

For the first time since your father was brought in, the king looks at you, taken aback by how distressed you look. His eyes sweep over your form, not understanding why you’re so tense.

“How dare you interrupt His Majesty?” The guard steps towards you but stops when Yoongi holds up his hand.

“Please Y-Yoongi,” his name slips past your lips before you can correct it, but nobody says anything, least of all him. “Your Majesty, please—he’s innocent.”

“She’s clearly working with him,” the guard says.

The eyes that had softened when he looked at you harden once more, and it sends a chill down your spine. You can’t tell what he’s thinking or how he’s feeling, but the way he looks at you makes your skin crawl.

You prostrate yourself before him, voice coming out weaker than you intended it to when you speak again. “I beg of you. Please spare him!”

“Everyone. Leave us.” Nobody questions the order, not with how he sounds, the true embodiment of the coldhearted king everyone believes him to be. It isn’t until everyone has left, the sound of the doors closing behind them echoing in the silent room when he addresses you. “Look at me.”

The words are reminiscent of your first meeting with him but while that memory brings warmth, you feel empty when he says them this time, all traces of love gone. Hesitantly, you look up at him. There’s a range of emotions in his eyes, but the most obvious one is anger.

“I love you,” he says, though the ways he says the three words suggest the opposite. “I told you I wanted to make you my queen,” he says. “So tell me, Song Y/N, why you’re begging for the life of a man plotting to take not just my life, but my brother’s as well? Are you working with him?”

“No! I love you,” you cry, not bothering to wipe away the tears that stream down your cheeks. “How can you question my feelings for you? Do you not trust me?”

“The timing is awfully suspicious. I know nothing of your past. I thought my love for you was enough, but maybe I was wrong,” he turns away from you. “Guards!”

They come running it at his call, lining up in front of him. From your position on the floor, they look more imposing than they do when you pass them on the palace grounds. Some of them you even recognize. Jimin, the Captain of the Guard, stands at the front.

“Lock her up.” Yoongi doesn’t look at you even as he issues the command.

Jimin has the decency to wait for you to get up on your own before he grabs you by the elbow, leading you out of the room. You can hear the maids whispering as you pass them on the way to the jail, saying things like ‘serves her right for trying to seduce the king’ or similar things. You pass by Eunji and Prince Jungkook who stare at you with wide eyes but are pushed forward when you try to talk to them.

Somewhere along the way, Jimin was called away to deal with something more pressing, squeezing your arm gently before handing you off to his much more aggressive underlings who yank you harshly, before throwing you into a cell.

“Wench,” one of them says before walking away.

Scrambling to your feet, you frantically search for your father, eyes searching the nearby cells before you hear a cough come from behind you, seeing your father hunched over in the corner.

“A-are you okay?” You ask him through your tears, brushing his hair away from his face and gently dabbing at the cuts on his cheek with your sleeve.

“Do I know you,” he coughs out, blood splattering your jeogori though he covers his mouth in a weak attempt to contain it.

Your heart falls when he doesn’t recognize you, but you suppose it wouldn’t make sense if he did. The last time he saw you, you were a child.

“It’s me, a-appa,” you say. “Your daughter, Y/N.”

Your father’s eyes meet your own for the first time in over a decade, hands shaking as they hover over your face. He looks you over slowly, eyes watering as a look of recognition washes over him.

“Is it really?”

“Yes, yes it’s really me,” you smile in spite of everything, taking his hand in your own and pressing it to your cheek. “It’s me, appa.”

“Minseo said you were dead. I mourned you for years,” he cries, his shoulders shaking as words get stuck in his throat. “What happened?”

“She sold me to the palace,” you explain, falling into his familiar embrace. “I’ve been here ever since.”

The two of you stay like that for a long while, not caring about the looks the other prisoners send your way. By the time you finally stop crying, no tears left, the sun has set, though it can’t be too late, given you can still hear plenty of people outside.

“You’ve grown up beautifully,” your father leans back, finally getting a good look at you. His hand “What were you doing with the king?” He questions.

“I love him. And he loves me, I think.” You bury your face in your hands. “I told him you were innocent but he...he got mad at me,” you say. “He didn’t give me a chance to explain things before calling for the guards.”

Before either of you can say anything, Eunji comes running up to the wooden bars, Prince Jungkook not far behind.

“Y/N! What happened? We saw the guards arresting you, but nobody would tell us why.”

“How did you get in here?” You rise from where you were sitting with your father, meeting your best friend at the locked door.

Eunji jerks her head towards where Prince Jungkook stands next to her, smiling awkwardly at you. “Bunny here got them to let us in. But you didn’t answer my question!”

You explain the situation to her, starting with when your father’s wife sent you away. Eunji knows, already, but for the prince’s sake, you explain again. You tell them how your father was framed for treason and about how you begged Yoongi to spare him. When you tell them how he reacted, your best friend rolls up her sleeves.

“I’m going to go give him a piece of my mind,” she turns to march away before Prince Jungkook pulls her back, looking at you apologetically.

“Hyung doesn’t hate you,” he says. “He loves you so much it’s actually disgusting,” he wrinkles his nose. “I think he’s probably really confused and a little hurt. You have to understand that he had to learn the hard way how important it is that he trust the right people.”

“That doesn’t make it okay!” Eunji’s outburst earns her a poke in the side.

“I never said it was. I’m just trying to explain things from Yoongi-hyung’s perspective. I’ll try to talk to him, but we can’t stay here much longer.”

You say goodbye to the two of them and move back to sit next to your father again who, despite obviously being in worse shape than you, takes your hand in his as you rest your head on his shoulder.

That night, Yoongi plagues your dreams, forcing you to watch him to execute your father again and again.

It’s the third night in the cell when your father gently shakes you awake from where you lie on the cold stone ground.

“Y/N, wake up.” For a moment, it feels like you’re a child again, having fallen asleep on the floor in his study while he worked. “Wake up,” he shakes you again. “His Majesty wants to talk to you.”

You rub your eyes as you sit up, trying to get a bearing on your surroundings. Sure enough, Yoongi stands at the entrance to your cell, the door opened likely by whoever just turned the corner. You can’t read the expression on his face in the dim torchlight, but you don’t care. Seeing him again brings tears to your eyes, stomach twisting into knots wondering why he’s here.

“What,” you ask shortly, unable to keep your teeth from chattering in the winter, cold having seeped into your bones after the first night.

“Jungkook told me to come and talk to you,” he says, and you can feel his eyes bore into you even though you aren’t looking at him.

“You didn’t want to talk three days ago,” you say angrily, glaring at the disapproving look your father sends your way.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the way his tongue pokes at his cheek, mulling over his words. “I was mad. And hurt. I know that’s no excuse for my actions but—will you please look at me, love?”

“Oh, so now you love me again?”

“I never stopped. I was just mad. More at myself for thinking I couldn’t trust you anymore, than you.” he explains. “You’ve given me no reason not to trust you but even still, I lashed out at you.”

“It really hurt, you know, when you didn’t trust me.”

“I know.” Yoongi’s eyes sweep over your form, taking in the way your eyes are sunken in, and how you seem thinner. You’re shivering, he notices, and he’s mad at himself for allowing this to happen to you. Hesitantly, he steps towards you, relieved when you don’t move away from him.

“Jungkook practically yelled at me,” he chuckles self-deprecatingly. “Told me if I didn’t fix things that he would assassinate me himself, the little brat.” His words pull a quiet laugh from you, the corners of your mouth tugging upward ever so slightly.

“That sounds like him,” you say, still not meeting his gaze.

“It does, doesn’t it.” He sits across from where you sit on the floor, not minding that the stone is cold, or that he’s dirtying his robes, though he knows that were things how they normally were, you would chastise him. “Won’t you look at me, love?”

Slowly, you turn to face him, eyes meeting his own. Your resolve begins to crumble when you see how tired he looks, and you wonder if he’s slept at all. His robes are wrinkled and his hair is in disarray, much different from the put-together Yoongi you know.

“Jungkook explained things to me,” he looks to your father who watches him carefully from where he’s seated. “I’m sorry for my rash behavior,” he gets on his knees, bowing to your father.

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he turns to you, still bowing. “I hurt you, and I can’t take back what I did, but if you’ll let me, I want to make things right.”

“W-wait,” you shuffle forward, trying to push him so that he’s sitting upright again, but he doesn’t budge.

The rest of the people here begin to stir from their sleep, and nothing good would come from them seeing Yoongi, the king, bowing to a palace maid on the floor. You try again to get him to sit up straight, whispering harshly in your distress.

“Will you get up? Please?”

“Only when you promise to let me make it up to you.”

“Fine! Fine, you can make it up to me, but please, will you get up?”

“Promise to come with me.”

You look to your father who looks way too amused at the scene playing out in front of him, all things considered. “I can’t just leave him here,” you say.

"It would look suspicious if I let him out after the whole court knows what happened, but I promise I’ll make things right,” he looks at you intently.

Only after your father waves you away, ensuring he’ll be okay, do you leave the cell, exiting the building with Yoongi. You make a promise to get your dad out of there, looking back to see Jimin waving encouragingly as you leave.

Yoongi brings you to his room, ordering servants to draw a hot bath for you and bring a clean change of clothes. You try to get him to stop fussing over you, but he doesn’t listen. Soon enough, you’re sitting in the king’s bath with several changes of clothes available to you, Yoongi pacing behind the screen.

The silence between the two of you is deafening. It’s so different from the comforting quiet that falls over the two of you when you’re simply content to be in the other’s presence. This time though, it’s clear neither one of you is quite sure how to move forward from here, and you say the first thing that comes to mind.

“I still love you.” Though quiet, Yoongi’s silhouette freezes on the other side of the partition, the rhythmic sound of his feet stopping. You busy yourself by playing with your hair, dragging it through the water.

You hear the king take a deep breath before speaking. “I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t, you know. You can still leave if you want. After we clear things up with your father. I won’t stop you.”

“Will you help me wash my hair?”

The request catches him by surprise, and he hesitates before stepping around the screen. He pulls a stool up behind you, rolling his sleeves up before he gently begins to massage the soap into your hair.

“I’m still mad,” you say. “And I’m hurt, but even now, the idea of leaving you makes me sad. But,” you continue, “I need to know that you can trust me. I’m sure you have some questions about what Prince Jungkook said.”

Yoongi’s hands slow, trying to figure out what to ask. “Why didn’t you tell me about your past?”

“It’s not exactly something I enjoy telling people about. The only person that knew was Eunji, and even she doesn’t know much.”

“But he’s a nobleman, surely you could have reached out to him?” His hands have stopped all together now, but you don’t mind. In spite of everything that’s happened, his presence still calms you.

“Maybe, but I was young, I didn’t know what to do. When I finally understood what happened, I thought it would be better if I stayed out of his life. I’m an illegitimate child, there’s not much going for him in a household like that.”

Though the silence is still heavy, it’s more bearable this time. He helps you get out of the water, draping a towel over you as you shiver. Yoongi doesn’t know what lines he can and can’t cross, so he goes back to sit on the bed to wait for you.

When you step into his room, you immediately sit beside him, leaning against him. His familiar scent comforts you as you listen to his breathing. His body feels hot next to your own, and you move his arm so that it rests on your shoulders.

“Let’s go to bed, I’m tired.”

“Of course, love.”

You fall asleep before you’ve fully lied down. Yoongi gently wraps his arms around you, almost as if he’s afraid you’ll have disappeared into the night when he wakes up in the morning.

Both of you sleep better that night than you have the past several days.

It takes a while for evidence suggesting your father’s innocence to surface, and even longer still for them to find the person who framed him in the first place. During those weeks there’s a brief period of uncertainty between Yoongi and you, but things returned to normal not long after.

Evenings that were once spent in his arms became occupied by visiting your father and making sure he’s okay. With some assistance from Jimin, sneaking food to him was easy and he looked to be faring much better now that he was getting proper sustenance.

Eunji and Prince Jungkook are the first people you talked to the day after being released and though they assured you that you didn’t need to thank them, you did so anyway, promising to help them with something whenever the need arose.

Now, several weeks later, you stand outside the prison, waiting for your dad to come out. Despite having met with him multiple times already, you can’t stop the way you shake with nervousness and anticipation.

Noticing this, Yoongi wraps his hand around your own, fingers intertwining as he squeezes reassuringly. “Take a deep breath, love.”

“What if he decides he doesn’t want me anymore?” You wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. “Or he doesn’t care about me anymore?” It’s been years since you last saw each other, after all.

“Did you not see the way he was glaring at me when I went to talk to you that night?” A breathy chuckle escapes him as he recalls the mistakes that lead to that moment. “He looked like he wanted my head on a pike for making you cry like that.”

You don’t remember any of that, but you suppose you were too distressed to pay attention to anything other than Yoongi at that moment. You don’t remember much of that night, to be entirely honest. Your emotions had been overwhelming, and you blocked most of them out.

The two of you turn towards the sound of approaching footsteps, Jimin leading your father out to where you’re waiting. “One Song Jiyeon, as requested” he says with a bright smile on his face, eyes crinkling into crescent moons before he turns and goes back to his post.

Were you not so on edge right now you would have stuck your tongue out at the Captain of the Guard, but you’re at a loss for what to do. You take a step towards your dad before stopping. Is hugging him still acceptable? You are no longer the little girl that clung to his robes whenever he had to go to work in the mornings. Thankfully he makes the decision for you, wrapping his arms around you.

It’s strange, no longer needing to crane your neck to look up at him. He doesn’t need to bend down to hug you anymore, either. Even though it’s been more than a decade, he still smells like ink and parchment, and you realize now why the Royal Archives had always felt so familiar to you.

The cuts and scrapes that littered his face are gone, and his hair is no longer in disarray. Now that you see him in the sunlight, you can see the signs of aging at the corners of his eyes when he smiles at you, and in the greyed hairs that can be seen growing in his beard. He looks good though, like he’s lived well these past years.

“Let me get a good look at you,” he steps away so that you’re an arm’s length away, hands resting on your shoulders as he takes you in. His eyes soften as they sweep over your face, his mouth spreading into a gentle smile. “You look so much like your mother,” he says fondly. You think he’s about to cry before he blinks the tears away.

“Really?” You never met your mother who died shortly after giving birth to you, and you think that Minseo, your father’s wife, was glad for it, though she would never say it outright. She would treat you like her daughter in her husband’s presence but would ignore you otherwise.

“Really. I’m so glad that I can see the beautiful woman you’ve grown up to be. I’m proud to be your father.”

Though the scene in front of him is touching, Yoongi coughs awkwardly from where he stands a little ways away, avoiding making eye contact with either you or your father. “I’m glad that the two of you have crossed paths again,” he says, “but perhaps we can move this to somewhere a little more private?”

You become aware of the dozens of eyes on the three of you and step away. “Maybe that would be for the best, appa.”

Wordlessly, the three of you make your way to the king’s study. You haven’t been back since your argument with Yoongi, and your stomach knots at the unpleasant memories. He sits behind his desk, you and your father sitting across from him.

“Despite the unique circumstances, I want to thank you for bringing Y/N into the world.” Yoongi looks at your father with sincerity, eyes flitting to your own only briefly. “And,” he continues, “I would like to formally ask for your permission to marry her and make her my queen.”

For the second time in less than a month—and likely in all his time as king—he prostrates himself before your father who looks at him in bewilderment.

“Why should I let her marry you if you just turn your back on her every time someone says something against her?”

“Appa,” you glare at him, but he keeps looking at the young man before him.

“Your father’s right, Y/N.” Yoongi sits up, looking the man in the eyes.

“Being queen isn’t easy, Y/N. People will try to hurt you either through words or actions. I need to know that he won’t turn on you so easily.”

You know what Yoongi meant now when he said your father was glaring at him. You have no doubt that, were he not king, he would be dead where he sits. It’s strange though, seeing your father, who has never been anything but kind, look at someone so sternly.

“I promise, sir, that from now until the day I die, I will always be on her side.”

Your father looks at him long and hard, and you can see the way Yoongi’s knuckles turn white with how tightly clenched his fists are. His shoulders stop rising and falling as he holds his breath, worried about what your father might say next.

“Very well, son. Make her happy.”

Yoongi’s shoulders sag in relief, and he releases the breath he’d been holding. The gummy smile that you’re so fond of makes an appearance, and you let out a sigh before turning to your father.

“Can you stop acting so scary now? If you’d gone on any longer I think he would have passed out.”

The indignant scoff the king lets out doesn’t go unnoticed, but you chose not to torment him anymore--at least for the time being. The three of you make small talk over tea for a while before your father says he has to return home for the night.

You invite Yoongi to send your dad off together but he lets you go on your own, allowing the two of you some privacy. Now that word of your parentage has gotten out, there was sure to be less opposition to your marriage, though you doubt anything could stop the king.

“Are you sure you can’t stay a little longer?” You turn to face your father when you reach the palace gates.

Laughing warmly, he nods his head. “I have to go back home to your younger brother,” he says fondly. You’d learned that Minseo gave birth to a son not long after she sent you away, and you’re glad for it, happy that your father still got to see one of his children grow up. “You should come meet Taehyung sometime. I think you’d like him.”

He says nothing of his wife or if he’ll confront her about it, but you don’t care at the moment. She has no power over you anymore, and you’d prefer not to revisit the past again.

When you return to your room, Yoongi’s arms wrap around your waist from behind as he trails light kisses along your neck and collarbone, before his fingers deftly begin removing your clothing.

“I just got back!” You laugh, trying to squirm away from him.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he asks, voice deep and husky. “How long I’ve wanted to hear your pretty little moans as I make you come on my cock?”

You blush at his obscene words, heat pooling in your core as he turns you to face him, pulling him into a kiss, trying to show him how much he means to you. Putting all of your love and adoration into the action, you drag your hands over his chest, feeling the toned muscle beneath the silk fabric.

Moaning into the kiss, you fist the material of his robes as he finally rids you of your last article of clothing. His hands immediately find your breasts. The way his fingers twist and pull at your nipples mixed with the frigid winter air causes them to harden as goosebumps spread across the sensitive skin.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” He moves his mouth down along your jaw, nipping at your collarbone and earning a yelp of surprise from you. Pushing you up against the wall, he moves down even further, marking the supple skin of your chest. Wrapping your hands around the back of his head, you arch into him as you feel the familiar clench of your walls as they search for stimulation. Light pink blooms decorate you all the way down to your navel before he finally stops and looks up at you from where he kneels before you.

“F-fuck, Yoongi.” He smirks at the way his name falls from your lips, red and swollen.

“I’d love to feast on you again, love, but I’m afraid that will have to wait for another night,” he says as he looks down at the tent in his robes. “Will you give me all of you?”

You nod your head vehemently. When he stays on the ground even when you try to pull him up into another kiss, you whine, hips shifting in his hold before he pins them to the wall with more force.

“I need you to say it, love. Need to know that you want me just as badly as I want you.” Thumbs rub circles into your hips as he holds you there, looking up at you with hooded eyes, pupils blown wide with lust.

“Yes!” The word comes out louder and more desperate than you meant but you continue all the same, voice softening into a whine, desperation evident. “Yes, please, Yoongi. Make me yours.”

The words barely leave your lips before he lifts you up and deposits you on your bed, hastily removing his royal robes and letting his hair down, dropping the sangtugwan on top of the discarded clothes.

His hair falls down around his face, framing the delicate features and emphasizing the scar that runs over his eye. He pushes your legs further apart, settling between them as his fingers trace patterns up your legs. Despite the cold, the digits leave searing heat in their wake and you whine in need.

“I’m going to make you mine,” he growls, “going to make you my queen. Do you want that? To belong to each other not only in name, but to know that nobody but the king can pleasure you like I can?”

“Yes, please,” you cry out as he circles your clit, hips rising to meet his ministrations before his unoccupied hand pins you down to the bed.

He pinches the bud harshly, a pained cry leaving your lips. “Whose are you, Y/N?”

“Yours! I belong to you!” Your hips fight against his hold, wanting more than what he’s giving you.

“That’s right,” he affirms, one of his fingers swiping through your folds, glistening with your arousal in the dimly lit room. “And who am I?”

“My king!” You don’t miss the way his cock twitches at the title, a bead of precum leaking from the angry red head.

Fingers continue to tease your entrance, your pleas echoing in the room. You swivel your hips to try and increase the pressure applied to your clit, but Yoongi pulls away entirely before his hand lands on your exposed cunt, a harsh slap sounding throughout your room. The pain spreads quickly but is replaced by pleasure just as fast, a long drawn out moan escaping you.

“A-ah, fuck,” you whine, trying to close your legs to get away from his grasp.

“Behave for your king,” he commands. Your walls clench when he brings his hand down again, the reaction not going unnoticed by him as he chuckles. “Do you like it when I hit your pretty little clit?” When you fail to answer him his hand comes down again, as your back arches off the bed. “Answer me.”

“Yes! I like it!”

Yoongi scoffs at your answer, almost like he’s disgusted with you, but the way his length shifts between his legs says otherwise. “What do you think the people would say if they knew their future queen was nothing more than a common whore,” he poses the words as a question, and humiliation burns through you. “Look at you, you’re soaking wet after just a couple of hits to your little pussy.”

Fingers drag through your folds, collecting your juices before smearing the digits across your lips. “Taste yourself, love.”

Your tongue darts out from between your lips as you moan. The heady taste of your essence coats your taste buds as Yoongi collects more of it before he rubs it into your nipples, pinching and pulling at the peaks as you whine in need.

“Please, Yoongi, make me feel good.” Your mind wanders to the night he spent eating you out, something that feels so far away now.

“You said that last time too,” he chuckles, feigning confusion as he continues toying with your breasts, a pout on his lips. “Do I not make you feel good?”

“I-I want more.”

He smacks his hand against your chest, admiring the way the mound bounces from the impact. “You’ll take what your king gives you and be grateful for it, slut.”

The way he spits the last word at you makes you clench in need, desperate to be filled. You brush your hips against his erection, whining at the contact before he pushes your hips back down onto the bed.

In contrast to his words though, he slides two of his fingers into you. Slowly, Yoongi begins moving them in and out of your entrance, fucking the digits into you shallowly as you squirm against his hold. It’s not enough to bring you to the edge, but it’s more than enough to have you pleading for more.

“Be quiet, love. If I hear you moan, I’ll stop.”

You can feel your arousal drip down onto the bed and you can hear it when the pads of his fingertips brush against your walls, pushing against the spot that causes your back to arch up every once in a while to keep you on your toes.

True to his words, Yoongi continues like this for what feels like hours. Somewhere along the way he adds a third finger to the mix. He speeds up only to slow down when you moan too loudly for his liking, keeping his fingers still inside you until your walls stop tightening around the digits.

“Please,” you beg, trying to fuck yourself on his fingers when he stops moving them. Tears pool in your eyes in desperation, needing him to give you more. “Make me yours, my king.”

“Fuck.” Faster than your lust addled mind can comprehend, he flips you over on to your hands and knees, palming at the soft flesh of your ass. He slides his length through your sensitive folds, relishing in the moans you reward him with. “I’m going to make you mine. Gonna fuck you so hard that all of Joseon will know it’s me who pleasures you.”

For all his haste, he still has enough sense about him to remember that you have not slept with a man before, and so he sheathes himself in your heat slowly, hissing at how tight you are. He almost loses himself right there, with your cunt squeezing around him in a vice like grip.

Your walls burn as they stretch to accommodate him, not used to having more than two or three fingers. You whine at the discomfort, Yoongi gently stroking your hair and whispering words of reassurance. He stays there, hips pressed firmly against your own waiting for you to adjust to him.

When the pain subsides and the stretch becomes pleasurable, you hesitantly pull off of him until only the head remains, pushing back onto his cock slowly. Gradually, you increase your pace, fucking yourself on him as he allows you to get accustomed to having him inside of you.

“Please,” you whine, shimmying your hips against his pelvis.

“What do you want, love? Tell me how I can pleasure my queen.”

You aren’t sure what you want, but you know you want more of whatever it is. “More,” you whine, looking back at him over your shoulder.

He looks like sin, hair falling over his forehead, scar shining like gold in the warm candlelight. His hands grip your hips bruisingly, as he pulls out of you until just the tip remains buried in you, looking at the way your juices coat his length, dripping onto the blankets beneath you.

“I want more, my king. Please, I need you”

No more is needed before he roughly yanks on your hips, pulling you to meet his own thrusts as a strangled moan claws its way up your throat. He sets a fast pace, balls smacking into your clit every time he forces his member into your wet heat.

“I’m going to show the whole court that you’re my queen. Would you like that?”

You cry out in pleasure when his fingers brush against the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs, rubbing tight circles around the bud. “Yes!”

“Fuck, turn over. I want to see your face when you come apart on my cock.”

Yoongi pushes your thighs up against your chest in the new position, torn between the way your breasts bounce with each of his thrusts, and the way his member disappears in your walls. In the end, his eyes settle on your chest, admiring the curves of your body as he fucks into you.

“I’m going to put a baby in you,” he grunts. “Would you like that? To know that you’re carrying your king’s child in your womb?” He hisses when he feels your heat clamp down around him. “What a filthy queen I have,” he chuckles condescendingly at you, loving the way your face scrunches up in pleasure. “You’re just a little slut, aren’t you? Desperate to have my cum leaking out of your cunt for days.”

“Yes! I want you to fill me with your seed.” The words leave your lips before you have time to think about what you’re saying. “Put a baby in me, my king.”

“Fuck. Come for me love, let me see you come on my cock.” He releases one of your legs to circle your clit, toying with the bud as you feel your climax wash over you. Your vision goes white as all the strength disappears from your body, Yoongi chasing his own high as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm.

The pleasure borders on pain from the oversensitivity when he finally comes, painting your walls white as you continue to spasm around his cock, milking every last drop from him. Slowing his thrusts until they eventually come to a halt, he lets your legs down and brushes the hair away from your face.

Your eyes are glassy as you look at him, a satisfied smile on your face. Yoongi looks at you reverently, burning the image of you into his mind; flushed cheeks, hair sticking to your forehead, your lips parted in a sigh.

“I love you, Yoongi. No matter what.” You reach a hand up to tangle it in his hair, playing with the strands as they fall and brush against your neck, tickling the sensitive skin.

“And I love you, Song Y/N,” he looks down at you, cupping your cheek in his hand with nothing but love and adoration in his eyes. “With every fiber of my being and every fragment of my soul, I love you.”

#bangtanarmynet #btswritersguild #mygsnet #ficswithluv #bangtansmutcentral #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #idk how to tag it's been so long since i posted something

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opaljm · 4 years ago

Text

ii. yours, truly (m) – jjk

⟶ pairing: female reader x Jungkook ⟶ rating: 18+ ⟶ genres & tropes: angst, future smut; arranged marriage/marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, scorned lovers with a past, second chance romance, featuring ceo!jungkook & music producer!reader ⟶ summary: Ten years ago, you had run away from your family to pursue your dreams of becoming an idol. Eight years ago, those dreams were turned into dust and you were forced to beg your family to take you back in. Now, as a part of their agreement for making you a member of the illustrious Min family once more, you were forced to do their every bidding, including marrying the man you hated the most of all. ⟶ warnings/content tags: triple timelines runs throughout the entirety of the story (for now those three timelines are: the reader’s pov in high school, Jungkook’s pov in college, and both of their povs in present day), tension and hostility between the Jeons continues, Jungkook hates his job, producer shenanigans, alluding to family problems/drama, dramatic Jungkook and reader, this chapter is sfw! but spicier than chapter one 😉 ⟶ length & status: 21k words; in progress ⟶ a/n: beta-read by @yeonki-minnie. guys, i have school and a buttload of health problems that have been popping up recently so please dont press me for when I'll be updating or posting any fics. if you look at my faqs I state that I don't like those questions but I'm gonna need you guys to especially remember that for the rest of 2021 😭😭😭. I’m trying my best but please be mindful. Y’all know I refuse to do math if I can avoid it so if there’s any discrepancies in the story please ignore them. that being said, Jungkook is a calendar year (so they were born in different years) older than the reader and as the story unfolds he is 25 while she is 24. ALSO! I think chapter three will be the first chapter with smut in this story so you guys have that to look forward to!

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“𝚆𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚜 𝚋𝚢,

𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜.

𝙱𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚜𝚔𝚢,

𝚂𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚎.

𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚎?

𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚏 𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢,

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚢𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛;

𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛.

𝚆𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝙸 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛.”

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚗 𝙶𝚛𝚊𝚢, 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛

“I got us breakfast from Kokkili,” mumbled Kim Seokjin around the smoked salmon and cream cheese, everything bagel jammed into his mouth, his plump lips curling inwards to hold the food securely within the confines of his mouth and to prevent it from falling splat onto the ground. In his hands was a box with presumably more bagels and on top of that container was a cardboard drink holder with two iced and two hot Americanos.

Jungkook grunted awake at the intrusion, his face coming off from the charcoal gray leather mat that covered the giant expanse of the executive table that took up the centerfold in his office. There were imprints from the desk mat’s texture lining his cheek that had been pressed against it from the unexpected nap that Jungkook had fallen into. As he blearily looked up at Seokjin through bloodshot eyes, trying to blink away his tiredness in foolish vain, he was met by the cold heat of Seokjin’s disappointed glare.

“Did you sleep here again?”

It wasn’t really a question when they both knew what the answer would be, so Jungkook didn’t even bother deigning his Seokjin hyung with a response.

“Does the egg in my bagel have a runny yolk?” he asked instead, arms stretching forward for the delicious promise of sustenance. He appreciated that Seokjin hyung always bought him a hot Americano to be his first drink of coffee in the morning and an iced Americano to tide him over until lunch.

Seokjin narrowed his eyes, “Jungkook, what the fuck?! You have a perfectly comfortable king size bed in a giant bedroom on top of a high-rise apartment complex in Gangnam, and you’re choosing to sleep in your office and get a crick in your neck.”

Jungkook shrugged, ignoring the concern, “You know hyung, I’m actually moving out. My parents bought me a rather large townhouse in Seocho as a wedding present and I’m going to tell Y/N soon that I feel like we should move in together. I know she has to work crazy hours and always be ready to drop everything to go to the HYP.E building, but I’m not saying she has to get rid of her apartment in Yongsan. I would just like to spend more time with her and finally start living together as a married couple.”

“Always the eternal romantic,” snorted Seokjin, his bagel had long been moved into his hand but now he took another bite from it, looking as dashingly handsome as ever, even with a dot of cream cheese staining his Bratz doll-like lips.

“Why not her, hyung?” Jungkook asked, taking offense almost immediately. He and Y/N might have had issues, but he wasn’t so uncivilized as to not be defensive of his wife. After all, she had taken his hand. “Almost everyone in our circle marries for business mergers and connections. The most we can hope for is companionship. The lucky ones get love. Min, no–Jeon Y/N is a much better candidate for my affections than the girls we went to school with.”

His wife might not have taken his name yet, but he had gotten into the habit of referring to her as Jeon Y/N in his head. And if he actually managed to convince her to stay after the year was up, perhaps she would want to change her last name to Jeon and match him, which was what he desperately wanted by the time children were on the table.

Seokjin’s brows furrowed darkly, “You’re speaking of your circle and your school experiences, Jungkook. Despite what you always wish for and more desperately pretend, we are not the same. The people who share the same type of life as I, marry for love, not for consolidating wealth.”

Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat. A helpless gasp at the harsh brutal honesty of Seokjin’s words. Seokjin’s family had been there to build Jeon Pharmaceuticals from the ground up for the last fifty years. But while Jungkook’s family was able to grow their wealth and increase their power and stronghold over the Seoul elite, Seokjin’s family stayed the loyal accountants, managers, and clerks of the company, never daring to dream of more.

Seokjin was perhaps the most audacious of them all, striving for more in life; working his ass off to get admitted into Seoul International Preparatory Academy and then graduating as valedictorian with a full ride scholarship to Dartmouth. Seokjin had finished his undergraduate degree in two years, which was practically unheard of but only possible due to his immense workload and work ethic while unbelievably double majoring in business and economics. He had a MBA from Columbia Business School; he could have had any job in the country, hell, across the globe. But here he was, for some inexplicable reason that Jungkook did not fully understand, working under the CFO when in all honesty that job should have been his. Why did the Kims continue to settle for middle management positions in a company that was truthfully theirs as much as it was the Jeons’?

“Hyung,” Jungkook muttered quietly, “It’s going to be different once I’m in charge. I promise.”

Seokjin laughed hollowly, “There’s no need to do anything for my benefit, darling Jungkookie. I’ve long since learned that some people can never change the lot they’ve been dealt with in life and as a Kim, my job will always be to serve the Jeons.”

An uncomfortable heat crawled up Jungkook’s chest, painting its way up his throat with an ugly red flush that eventually overtook his cheeks and ears as well. This was so fucking unfair. He didn’t blame his hyung for the rage that he was honestly justified to have. If Jungkook had finished his MBA at the age of 23 and had returned back to Korea to work at the same company for the better part of a decade, seeing them through rebranding and consolidations until they had increased their net worth by 10 billion USD, but was still stuck in a middle management position that had only seen a $30 thousand pay raise in the form of promotions in the last seven years, he would have been livid too. His friend BamBam worked as a full stack computer engineer at Google and had gone from making $90 thousand in his first year to $150 thousand by his third. He had basically managed to increase his salary each year by the same amount Seokjin had accrued in seven.

Jungkook’s own income was even higher as a C-level executive. He had gotten quarter bonuses as well as end-of-the-year bonuses that would have made him quite in a fury if he had been in Seokjin hyung’s position and had known what his colleagues were getting while suffering the same kind of mistreatment that his hyung had faced at Jeon Pharmaceuticals. But he was a far better man than Jungkook to just ignore it and continue to put his all into his work, refusing to lose his own morals and ethics just because of the industry he was in. His Seokjin hyung was exorbitantly better and more skilled than Jungkook when it came to both of their jobs. Hell, truthfully Seokjin might have been the one who was more equipped and better suited to be the future CEO.

It rankled Jungkook that it had only been a year and a half since he had finished his MBA at Stanford, and he was being considered for such a high-level position over the scores of individuals who were more talented and more qualified for the job. And in Jungkook’s opinion, Seokjin was at the top of the list of the pack of people who deserved to be CEO over Jungkook.

Immediately after Jungkook had been done with his degree, his parents had demanded his presence back in Seoul. Jungkook had spent the last eighteen months working his way up the company, practically going through positions and promotions at a speed that was unheard of. All the while, he learned the inside workings of the complicated system that it made up, a structure that kept on getting more and more labyrinthine as the corporation kept buying up smaller medicine companies and swallowing them whole, integrating them within the larger network of Jeon Pharmaceuticals. Park Pharma Corporation had just been one of the companies Jungkook had seen getting taken over; something that had both brought about his sister and his hyung’s union but also the very thing that had almost dismantled it. His father was quite determined to make Jeon Pharmaceuticals have the monopoly in South Korea as well as the rest of east Asia eventually.

For his part, he had done what was required of him diligently. Jungkook had worked his way up from district manager to then being head of the research and development department, and now the chief technology officer (CTO). People might whisper favoritism at the works, but he had always tried to make himself worthy of the roles he took on, though he secretly agreed with them somewhat. Jungkook was not unqualified for the jobs he took on—rather, Jeon Pharmaceuticals had scores of more qualified and more experienced workers who deserved the promotions and roles he got more. Of all the jobs he had in the company, his time as the head of the research department had been one of the ones that he liked the most.

In undergrad, along with his business courses, Jungkook had tacked on a variety of science focused ones which mostly centered around chemistry and engineering. By the time his third year had rolled around, his academic adviser had recommended that he should consider adding on biochemical engineering or biochemistry as a second major, and so he had decided to add on the engineering. His parents had been fine with it since it would help him when he finally got around to working at Jeon Pharmaceuticals, and it truly did aid him in understanding much of what was happening under his management of the research and development department. He genuinely found it fascinating how the team at their company was always at the forefront of medical innovation. The patents the engineers and scientists developed for medicine in the forms of prescription pills, antibiotics, and vaccines, just to name a few, truly intrigued him.

However, Jungkook had known from the time he had taken that role that it wouldn’t be a position that would remain his for too long, despite how much he excelled at it and truly loved it. Right now, he was in the position of CTO, learning almost everything on the job because theirs was an industry that moved at a fast pace, playing a high risk gamble with the lives of not only everyone employed under the company and in partnership with the company but also with the lives of everyone that used the products and services offered by Jeon Pharmaceuticals. He had climbed the corporate ladder so high in one and a half years that it might have been a little concerning. Jungkook certainly thought so, even if his father didn’t because though Jungkook was talented and driven, though he was hardworking and cared about the company so much that he thought about it without end, the type of pyramid hopping Jungkook had done in so little time was only possible with the help of nepotism.

Speaking of Jungkook’s father, Jeon Jungnam was already talking to the board of directors and Jungkook knew that the plan was to have him take over his father’s position and transition into his role as the company’s CEO by the time that the third fiscal quarter started. This was actually only one of the many reasons that Jungkook couldn’t have news of his marital woes reaching his parents or in-laws. Any inkling of scandal could have Jeon Pharmaceuticals stocks plummeting in the public market, with the damage being so much worse if it came from the soon-to-be CEO.

Jungkook couldn’t afford any kind of bad press about Jeon Pharmaceuticals before he was formally and ceremoniously inaugurated into the role through the infamous and extravagant ribbon ceremony of some sort signaling Jeon Pharmaceuticals’ induction to the future of science, medicine, and technology with the help of their new CEO. All of the pomp and circumstance needed to be completed and the board of directors had to throw their approval behind Jungkook before he could finally take his first measures as CEO. He had in mind a plan to throw everything for a drastic turn by taking some decisively unorthodox and ballsy moves, such as firing the current, and mostly useless, CFO Shin Donghyuk, and replacing him with the more deserving Kim Seokjin.

Jungkook and Seokjin stared at each other wordlessly and then Seokjin reached forward for one of the iced Americanos in the recycled paper cup holder. Grasping the cup in his right hand, he pursed his lips around the green paper straw and took a long dragging sip before then saying, “I hope that you will stop sleeping in the office now that you are going to be in the townhouse.”

Jungkook blinked at Seokjin hyung’s concern, still kind of drowsy, before he stretched in order to deal with the crick in his neck, rolling his shoulders and massaging his neck.

“I’m going to catch lunch at the Boiling Lobster with some of the guys from Finance, text me if you want to join, but I have to go meet with Shin right now or he’ll take it out on me for the rest of the week,” Seokjin grimaced. “I’ll catch you later.”

“Yeah, hyung,” Jungkook acknowledged numbly, blinking again dully, “See you later.”

It took a moment for Jungkook’s cloudy mind to register Seokjin’s departure as it was still suffering from his uncomfortable and minimal sleep, working overtime to make sense of things bright and early into the workday. He spent the next five minutes half-heartedly banging his forehead against the table, the impact softened by the padding of the desk mat, before regaining his composure and looking at his calendar. He had nothing to do until 10am, really, besides composing some emails and telling his assistant to handle some small tasks for him. Staring at his Patek Philippe world time clock on the wall in front of him, he realized it was almost 5pm for the person whose counsel he desperately needed. There was a slight– no actually, large, chance that the person was most likely very busy as their work day was approaching its end but Jungkook had his fingers crossed for their availability. And if they were unavailable, perhaps that just signaled that it was not meant for Jungkook to gain their counsel.

He pulled out his Samsung phone, the latest model since his father not only knew members of the Lee family but also found it important to bolster the Korean economy by buying local products and went straight for the video messenger app on his home screen.

To Jungkook’s surprise, it took only two rings and then the video call was accepted, the screen getting bigger, but all Jungkook could see was the shaky close up of a pair of plump cheeks and a pointy chin as he heard the person holding the device let out a screech and started moving for their life, their grip tight as they scampered across the floor. All that Jungkook’s eyes, wide with surprise, could see was the fluffy texture of cream-colored carpeted flooring and some tiny chubby baby fingers.

Confusion overtook his face as he tried to make sense of what was happening on the screen before the video was plunged into further darkness as the person moved into an unlit room. The phone holder’s crawl slowed, and they pitter-pattered along plush carpeting with soft foot and hand falls though Jungkook could still hear their loud breathing which was now accompanied by intermittent light chortles.

“Hello?” Jungkook asked, his voice ending the word on a high ringing tone.

“Mama,” Jieun called out in the dark room. The phone’s position moved; Jungkook was no longer looking at the lower half of Jieun’s cute baby face as she held it up for his sister. Instead, he saw ___’s hair a limp and messy cloud around her face, covering it as she had her head burrowed into a pillow.

“Jieun?” ___ muttered drowsily, “What do you have for Mama?”

Jungkook heard the rustling of comforters and bed sheets before his sister came onto the screen, her top half in a silk camisole she had been wearing as part of her makeshift pajamas.

“Gigi’s,” Jieun proudly exclaimed as her hands moved the device away from her mother and clutched it against her chest, leaving Jungkook staring into an abyss as all the light went away.

“Gigi, can Mama have the phone?” ___ asked.

“Mama… phone,” repeated the tot, easily pushing the contraption onto her mother’s awaiting palm.

“Oh, hello Oppa!” Jungkook’s sister exclaimed as she rubbed the sleepiness away from her eyes.

Jungkook rechecked the time on the world clock, and then his eyes narrowed as he peered at his sister, “You know at first I thought I got the time wrong when I realized you were in bed sleeping but things aren’t adding up, sis. Why are you sleeping at 4pm? It’s not like you to leave Jieun, or I guess Gigi, up and running around while you can’t keep your eye on her.”

His sister groaned as she stretched and then the phone fell into the sheets as she reached out to pick up her daughter and hold her close. When she picked up the phone again, he saw his niece pressing her plump soft cheek against her mother’s, squishing it into ___’s face, while a tiny palm was pressed to her cup her mother’s other cheek endearingly.

“It’s a new development,” ___ admitted, “Jieun’s been referring to herself as Gigi. She finds her name too hard to pronounce and I guess she didn’t like calling herself ‘Oon’ anymore.”

“You two did pick a rather hard name for a baby to say,” Jungkook agreed, defending his niece. As always. Imagine thinking he would ever take Jimin or ___’s side over the cutest baby that walked on the planet, he snorted. Jungkook narrowed his eyes, make that the current cutest baby that walked on the planet, he was confident that his own children would be cuter than Jieun even if she had the Jeon doe eyes and Jimin’s chubby cheeks and pouty lips because there was no way in hell that his children with Y/N wouldn’t be utterly adorable.

“She also doesn’t respond to us calling her Jieun when she’s been talking about ‘Gigi.’” his sister giggled, “It’s been bothering Jimin to no end. He’s home by the way. That’s why I was taking a nap. He was looking after my pretty Jieun-ie” she pressed a kiss to the top of the child’s head who let out peals of pleasured laughter. “Although,” she mused, “it appears it must not have been too great of a job if she was able to run away and wake up mama.”

“Why were you sleeping and letting Jimin take care of Jieun,” Jungkook demanded sharply, repeating his earlier question more fervently, “Are you sick?”

___ rolled her eyes, “I’m fine, Oppa. I just haven’t been getting a lot of sleep recently in between taking care of Jieun and work. Since I work from home and I make up my own schedule, I can only really get things done when she’s asleep at night. Jimin finished up early today and he said I should take a break. Truth be told, I should probably get a start on making dinner, though. Thank you for your well-timed call, Jungkook oppa.”

“Oh, well, I’m glad you’re doing okay,” Jungkook admitted gently.

She cracked a smile as she got up from bed cradling Jieun’s body tightly to hers and extending the arm that held the phone further out so that Jungkook could get a fuller view of them as the camera moved away.

“Any particular reason you called ‘Min?” she asked, “I’ll give him the phone right now.”

“I just needed his advice for something,” Jungkook confessed.

When he didn’t explain further ___’s gaze shuttered off, “Ah,” she nodded, “Boring business stuff. Got it, no need to explain further.”

“I can literally see your eyes glazing over,” her brother scoffed.

“And there’s literally a reason why I switched career fields,” she deadpanned as her retort. His sister worked as far away from the medical and pharmaceutical spheres as humanly possible, even with her husband as a fancy COO. Jungkook supposed it helped from all their conversations outside of work to devolving back to work. He certainly appreciated Y/N’s job as a producer although she never talked about it with him, at least willingly.

She stopped walking; evidently, she had reached Jimin. Her thumb twiddled with the phone and Jungkook’s view was flipped so that he could see Jimin reclining on the sofa as soft sounds of a soccer game flooded the background, flowing from the large 4k television set that was turned on into the phone’s mic.

“Jimin-ah,” ___ called out sweetly to her husband, “Jungkook oppa called you.”

Jimin’s gaze immediately shifted away from the television to stare at his wife, “Jagi, what are you doing up?” he inquired in sharp alarm. His eyebrows had almost reached his hairline and his eyes were wide with panicked concern. He reached out his arm, whether to grab the phone or pull his wife into his embrace, Jungkook didn’t know.

“Jieun ran away with your phone. She answers calls too now,” ___ laughed. “Better be careful, Jimin. Or at least get better security so that your one year old daughter can’t get into it. She took like 50 pictures of her lips.”

Jungook silently snorted, not that they were paying attention. If he had Bratz doll-like lips too, and perfect porcelain doll features he might have considered taking 50 pictures of his lips. As it was, for now Jungkook’s go to selfie pose was pouting his lips while allowing his bared teeth to show through them in the center, jauntily set off with a flippant peace sign to the side of his cheek.

“How did she even get into his phone? Doesn't it have facial recognition?” Jungkook inquired. Jimin was a slave to late-stage capitalism and Apple products.

“Hmm,” his sister hummed, “I don’t think it’s that secure. I’ve seen her get into his phone before. Perks of Jimin and his baby face I suppose.” She was holding Jieun to her chest with the arm that also held Jimin’s phone and kept the call with Jungkook going. Her other hand was stroking her husband’s hair and he grabbed it, holding her fingers still in his grasp to glare at her lightheartedly.

“You love my face, don’t lie,” he smirked.

“Of course I do!” she easily agreed, “Jieun looks just like you and you’re my two most favorite people in the whole world. Speaking of Jieun, don't you have something to say to her?”

“Jieun,” Jimin tenderly chided, shifting his focus from his wife, looking at his child with an expectant face.

“Abba,” Jieun returned, voice filled with just as much indignation. She stretched her body towards her father, half-hanging off of ___’s arms in her attempts to go into her father’s hold.

Jimin met her halfway, easily snatching her up and letting her gently flop onto his chest and abdomen. “Miss’d abba,” muttered the tot grinning up at Jimin.

Jimin playfully narrowed his eyes, “Yeah? Is that why you ran away when I was looking at the game? Jieun, we were supposed to be rooting for Bayern. Appa was teaching you the game.”

“Abba miss’d?” she cried out in alarm, ignoring the soccer discussion as boring Appa-talk, accidentally hitting Jimin’s chest with one tiny fist.

“Appa missed Jieun very much,” Jimin agreed, lifting the child up so that her plump tummy was level with his face and blowing raspberries. Jieun let out a storm of excited giggles until she got overwhelmed from the onslaught of raspberries and began squirming. When Jimin saw her getting uneasy, he quickly brought her back onto his lap. While he was looking at his wife holding up his phone and Jungkook on its screen, Jungkook could see Jieun slapping her father’s stomach with her hands lightly and getting confused why his was flat and hard unlike hers. After a moment she lowered her head to attempt to blow a raspberry, but quickly pulled away with a disgusted look marring her cherubic face when she couldn’t produce the same results on Jimin’s rock hard abs as when he had done it to her.

His sister handed over the phone, and with a quick kiss to Jieun and Jimin’s cheeks left the room, likely going to start her dinner making process.

“Jungkook, what can I do for you?” Jimin asked when they were finally alone.

Jungkook let out a heavy sigh, “I don’t know if it was that obvious to you, hyung, when Y/N and I were over for Jieun’s birthday, but we’ve been struggling with our relationship a bit. I just— I’m just struggling to even find somewhere to start or… Is it, how to start? How to start trying to move towards eventually having a relationship that’s like yours and ___’s. I know it’s a lot to hope for and not all arranged marriages end up with love. But, if we could have even half of what you guys have and become friends, I wouldn’t mind it,” Jungkook confessed.

“___ and I weren’t always comfortable with each other,” Jimin remarked. He pushed his blond locks back, revealing the clean-cut shave underneath.

“I know,” Jungkook responded quickly; he was desperate for any type of advice or insight.

“We didn’t even like each other that much at the beginning,” Jimin added on.

“I'm aware!” Jungkook cried out desperately.

“I’m pretty sure there was a week in there towards the beginning where I actually hated ___,” Jimin mused matter-of-factly, as he bit his lower lip and his eyes quickly darted back to the game before coming back to focus on Jungkook.

“It’s not like you were the perfect husband straight out the door,” Jungkook said, instantly defensive of his sister with a sharp tone flooding his voice, “___ didn’t like you all that much either.”

Jimin bared his teeth in a somewhat lethal smile towards his brother-in-law, “Yes, I’m aware that when we got married, ___ married down and I married up.”

Call Jungkook biased, but he wasn’t going to play to his brother-in-law’s ego and comfort him by saying that marrying Jungkook’s sister hadn’t been him marrying someone out of his league. ___ was one of a kind and too good for most men; he had seen males throw themselves at his sister ever since she had started going to the same high school as him, but fortunately for him, as her older brother, and unfortunately for ___’s high school would be paramours, his sister had been frightfully shy her first year which had made most people suspect that she was a cold and snotty bitch. This could not be further from the truth, but once those first impressions had been made, they had set ___’s reputation in stone for the rest of her education. No one had dared to ask her out because they were terrified of getting rejected in a public or humiliating way.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook muttered at Jimin’s bluntness, “I just– I,” he sighed, “It’s hard for me to imagine why anyone would, or rather could, hate ___.”

“I was wrong for shutting her out,” Jimin agreed easily, though one of his eyebrows was still quirked in a scrutinizing manner that signaled he was still defensive over his behavior at the beginning of his marriage.

“But how?” demanded Jungkook, repeating himself, “How did you two even start getting closer or not being as… resentful?”

“___ seduced me.” Jimin shrugged nonchalantly after his candid remark had his brother-in-law sputtering.

“NO, SHE DID NOT!”

Jimin rolled his eyes, “Can you stop pretending your sister is an innocent beacon of virginity or something? She’s the mother of my child, which we both know happened through the furthest thing from immaculate conception. Hopefully if we’re successful, she’ll also eventually be the mother of my children. But it’s not like she was even a virgin when we got married. More power to her honestly, none of that matters so long as I am the only man she’s going to be with for the rest of her life.”

“You didn’t have to word it like that,” Jungkook sniffed, aggrieved on his sister’s behalf.

“Jungkook, she quite literally seduced me,” Jimin said, rolling his eyes. He would always defend his wife’s honor, but her brother was acting prudish for no reason.

“That’s the best textbook definition of what she did. And I don’t hold it against her because it’s not like I was an unwilling party to it, so it’s nothing she can or should be shamed for. We had to create an heir and ___ thought that seducing me would be the best way to get us there. She wasn’t wrong. Things got a lot easier for us in every sense of the way after the first time we had sex.”

Jungkook’s face was twisted in a pained grimace at the talk of his younger sister having sex with her husband. He preferred to imagine that Jimin had suffered a massive headache that ended with Jieun bursting out of his skull like Athena from her father, Zeus. “Okay, okay, I get it. But is that really all?”

Jimin appeared deep in thought as he said, “___ was motivated by the threat of what would happen if we didn’t produce an heir and in turn that motivated her to attempt to get closer to me and try to make things work. Creating a child involved copulation for us because ___ was convinced that if we went in the direction of artificial insemination or surrogacy, the news would somehow get leaked from the fertility clinic and our reputations would be racked through the mud. What exactly is motivating your need to have a good relationship with Y/N? Did the Jeon parental units put in an heir clause again?”

“They didn’t,” bit out Jungkook.

“I don’t know what to tell you Jungkook,” shrugged Jimin, “That’s the story of how Jimin and ___ became what they are today. But if you’re wondering how to be a good husband, it’s really not that different from being a good boyfriend. Just use your common sense, Jeon.”

“I see,” grated Jungkook in a clipped tone, “Well thank you for your advice, Jimin hyung.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the words you wanted to hear,” Jimin replied apologetically. “I think you just have to find your own way through trial and error. You’re a scientist, aren’t you? You should be an expert at running multiple experiments until you get the desired outcome or something that will satisfy you.”

“It’s fine, hyung. I’m sorry for reacting the way I did,” Jungkook struggled to get out, “It was just a shock for me to hear it being put the way that you said.”

“You’ll make it work,” Jimin smiled, his eyes slitting into happy barely visible crescents of joy, “You and your sister are alarmingly likeable people.”

Jungkook let out a strained laugh at the compliment, “Can I see Jieun before I leave? I have meetings starting up soon.”

“Of course,” Jimin easily agreed, angling the phone down so that Jungkook could make out Jieun in his lap.

“Hi Jieun,”

“Uncle Googie,” mumbled Jieun, rubbing her eyes, “Love you. Sleepy abba,” she whined tilting her head up towards her father.

“I’ll let you two go off to your own devices then,” said Jungkook, “Goodbye hyung. Bye bye Jieun-ie.”

After the phone call, Jungkook let out a silent scream before rubbing his temples in frustration. Perhaps he needed a little space from the situation so he could assess it with a clear mind. But it was impossible to continue his day without thinking of Y/N when she had started to flood his every waking, and unwaking, thought.

[almost ten-ish years ago]

One would think that the more you went on with your life in Seoul, both your journey as a trainee and a student would improve. That could not be further from the case. Sure, you did find some sort of new normal, though you didn’t exactly like it. And maybe, the tiny dorm you shared with five other girls and your miniscule bunk bed had started to replace the memories you had of your California King size Vi Spring bed with its Diamond Majesty mattress and custom headboard in your impressive bedroom in your parents’ sprawling Daegu residence. And perhaps, Chun-Ah Arts High School was on par with Jeong Finishing School for Exemplary Girls, with the added benefits of not forcing you to take physical education classes with waist trainers cinching you in, taking courses on managing a household, or making it through a tea ceremony where the Queen of England and other foreign dignitaries were present, but at finishing school you were never treated like a second class student since most of the the girls had been too scared to interact with you because of your family; they would have never dared bully you.

How ironic. The trainees had caught on to the fact that your high school was different from theirs; Big Shot certainly couldn’t afford to send them to SOPA or Chun-Ah like MS and GY Entertainments which had resulted in boatloads of resentment and tons of sabotage during trainee evaluations and practice while the people at Chun-Ah mocked you for everything from the way you breathed to the way you tilted your right hand to write your notes during class lectures.

If this experience taught you anything, it was that a. music was your life and you would do anything to explore it and reach your full potential while also b. people were fake and had no idea what real class and poise was because you were mocked for being the exact way that you were when you were a rich girl. People saw dollar signs not genuineness and they treated people based on what they thought they would get for it. Your training from Jeong Finishing School was seen as snootiness instead of elegance and people mistook your quiet demeanor for rudeness.

Unfortunately, the people in Seoul that you had the misfortune of interacting with were amongst the shallowest types of humans to exist. But of course, they would be when the first half was pursuing becoming idols for fame and the second half saw nothing wrong with the way that their families extorted their workers and hoarded their money until they could be multi-millionaires, or even billionaires. In summary, both were obsessed with fame and status symbols.

Today, you were wrapped up in a crewneck and track pants in the school’s colors, forest green with gold stripes across the chest and down the legs, shivering in the school’s backyard field in the dewy morning, preparing yourself for a five-mile run. Your vocal runs and exercises as well as enduring hours and hours of dance practice without end in sight had given you quite the stamina as well as aided in strengthening your diaphragm. You knew you were going to succeed running the required length well within the hour-long period that made up the duration of your physical education class.

Strolling up to the fourth numbered track on the circuit, you rolled your shoulders and shoved your crewneck sleeves up your slender arms before you looked to your left. Hairspray Helmet was misting herself with Santal 33 from Le Labo, most likely an early defense against the scent of sweat, metal and dirt that the field would soon begin to kick up after the 100 or so individuals who had the first period class started to run. Beside Hairspray Helmet, Overplucked Eyebrows was smacking on Haitai acacia flavored gum while she tied the shoelaces to her unauthorized running shoes, if you could even call them running shoes since they were a pair of bright white hightop Converse All-Stars, with her floral breath flooding the air and warring Helmet’s perfume, only further succeeding in invading your sinuses and giving you an oncoming migraine. Excessive Lip Gloss Applier finished out the trio and stayed true to her name, applying a thick layer of Fenty gloss bomb in $weet Mouth. Her untied long reddish-brown dyed hair kept drifting into her face due to the wind and getting stuck to her lips from which she would have to continuously pick the strands off of with her long acrylic nails she had gotten done at Unistella’s Seoul nail salon.

With a scoff, you moved away from the three who were probably going to spend twenty minutes walking each mile so that they didn’t have to actually complete five by the time that the P.E. teacher blew his whistle and called you all in to hit the lockers and change for your next classes. The trio were allergic to the concept of sweating and refused to do anything that would make their bodies react with more than a cute red flush that the other boys found attractive. Your gaze shifted ahead to the other group of individuals who occupied the space with your class; they were all wearing track pants and short sleeve t-shirts in a yellowy gold with glittering emerald green stripes which made it easy to distinguish them from your classmates. It looked as though you all were sharing the tracks with the freshmen today. Your teacher had appeared to have scheduled the run on the same day as the first years’ teacher.

You squinted against the bright glare of the sun as you thought you saw someone familiar. Bringing a hand up to shield against the light didn’t particularly help much either to get you a better glance.

You probably needed to update your prescription, but your parents had gotten you a year’s worth of contacts a while ago that you still hadn’t made much of a dent through and you couldn’t afford buying a pile of new contacts or brand new glasses right now. You were essentially in a slave contract which took care of your rent at the dorm and the things you needed or used at the agency that you would later be expected to repay with a 20% interest rate after your debut while your scholarship took care of your tuition, school meals, and textbooks.

But the meager pocket money that you had run off with, since you no longer had access to the bank accounts your family had set up for you, that was money you had to use for toiletries and groceries as well as any emergencies that arose. There was no telling how long Big Shot would keep you in the ‘dungeons’ as a trainee and you had to stretch your pocket money so that it would last you that long, or at least as long as it took you to turn sixteen after which you could get a job at a convenience store or a cafe. To keep that pocket money from getting stolen, you didn’t keep it at the dorm. You couldn’t open your own bank account as you were underage, but you gave all of your money to your cousin Yoongi and he opened a new bank account for himself that you were on as the second user. Yoongi was a saint of a cousin, he would regularly take you out for food when he could, because, though his pursuit of a career in music had also been met with condemnation, he had never gotten disowned like you. It was entirely sexist, but what could you do about it?

As you stretched to prepare yourself for the twenty laps you would have to complete on the circuit to hit the five miles, you thought to yourself that you could just try to run closer to the freshmen by either catching up to them or slowing down enough that they lapped over you, so that you could see if your suspicions had been right, and you had seen a familiar face.

Twenty minutes later, you were huffing along on your tenth lap. Your face felt like it was on fire, and you could only imagine how red and puffy your cheeks had gotten. You had long since ripped off your crew neck, throwing it onto the astroturf besides your teacher’s feet two laps ago, resorting to just running in your plain white t-shirt that had been underneath. Your school didn’t allow the girls to wear shorts for physical education unless they were on the school’s official sports teams, so unfortunately you would have to always complete your physical education classes in your long track pants which felt stifling in the muggy humid air of Seoul in the spring. Misogynistic pricks.

But your furious pacing had paid off—you were gaining on the girl with the bouncy ponytail of shiny black hair. You currently looked like a hot mess as you furiously burned off calories, with a halo of flyaways and baby hairs that had escaped from your ponytail and were framing your head looking like errant horns and had sweat dripping from your temple. In contrast to your disheveled appearance, the girl ahead of you, the same person that Jungkook had ran away with a few days ago, had looked like Venus reborn with the physical exertion giving her a beautiful glow rather than making her sweat copiously like you and turn the color of a red chili pepper. Bubbly Barbie, you growled internally, naming her, as your teeth clamped tightly together in your rage and you found yourself reverting back to your habit of grounding your molars that you had mostly broken out of, or so you had thought.

Your eyebrows furrowed even more in animosity, and you found yourself picking up speed, competing with her in a race that she didn’t even know she was in, not only for a faster five mile time, but also for Jungkook’s affections.

Seven more laps in, and now you were only ten feet behind her. Due to how far ahead her class had started from yours, it made sense that if she kept pace with you or ran faster than you, she would always be out of your reach. But it seemed like she was slowing down much more rapidly than you were, although you both were tired with the fifth mile being so close within reach. You wondered if she realized that you were tailing her or she just thought that you were just another person out of 100 running in circles, trying to complete this arduous task first thing in the morning.

As you broke free and finally picked up speed, enough to make you cross those ten feet until you were suddenly ahead of her, only a hair's breadth away, a sudden thought flooded your mind. What was the point? you wondered, what would this prove? Neither Jungkook or the girl knew who you were. Neither of them knew about your helpless infatuation with Jungkook. That thought made you stop abruptly in place. There were two and a half more laps to go but you were seriously considering following in line with Hairspray Helmet, Excessive Lip Gloss Applier, and Overplucked Eyebrows, and going on a slow stroll for the remainder of the length.

But time hadn’t stopped for everyone else as you had unexpectedly halted in the middle of the tracks. Certainly, the person who found herself tripping over your cocked out foot in its New Balance sneaker and then poked in the abdomen by your elbow that had been sticking out as you deeply breathed in and out with your hands on your hips hadn’t been expecting that. Her body twisted as she tried to prevent herself from falling on top of you and taking both of you down. She went sprawling and you could only look in horror as you saw that it was Bubbly Barbie who was frantically thrusting her hands forward to break her fall, so she didn’t end up eating rubber and asphalt. She had turned her body to save you and her right side took the brunt of that as her right knee banged harshly against the ground and her right arm got scraped up. You panickedily took in a sharp inhale as your hand came up to cover your mouth in shock. Before you could find yourself thinking too much about it, you found yourself immediately running away from the scene. You speedily finished up the lap and went up to your teacher, lying to him that you had completed the five miles before quickly picking up your crewneck and heading straight for the showers. He didn’t question you since you had always given your 100% in every P.E. class before this. This time, it had worked out in your favor.

You were in your studio. Your current task at hand was helping Soobin work on a solo endeavor apart from Stray Together. He had asked for a very pop-esque song that was reminiscent of old school 2000s bubble gum pop. None of that EDM shit. Sometimes you wondered what was going through his head because what he had asked for was a cross between “Gee '' and “TT'' but if a male idol had sung it and not a group of nine perfect dancing and singing queens. Fortunately for him, HYP.E did have producers who could produce that kind of sound. They after all were the legends who had created the group Thrice from the ashes of the survival show Eighteen. That cutesy Halloween themed bop “TT,” that had given a new emphasis on Youtube streaming, had come out of the powerhouse that was HYP.E. However, unfortunately for Soobin, you were not one of those producers that had worked with Thrice to perfect their sound and musical image as a group. You were out of your element with this new project but like everything you pursued as a producer you were putting your all into this.

You had been nineteen when the survival show Eighteen had come out, a long time ago since you had abandoned your own dreams of being an idol in a talent packed girl group as their main vocalist. Your parents had bought out your contract at Big Shot when you had crawled back to them in your senior year and begged them to let you be reinstated into the family. No, at nineteen, you were double majoring in music theory and literature at Daegu University while your cousin Yoongi had finally gotten enough clout at HYP.E that he could throw some of his weight around and get his way. Yoongi had used that sway to get you to be his intern while he was a junior producer at the company.

Yoongi had been more focused in the hip hop scene at the time so all of the tracks he produced in that era had reflected that heavily. He also worked primarily with the boy groups and a few male solo artists so he had never really ended up creating anything at the time that could have been given to Thrice to add to an album, although your cousin was undeniably talented. He had preferred to work with deep poetic rap lyrics and emotional R&B sounds and the higher ups at HYP.E were content to let him do so.

Where were you going with this? Oh. Yes! Yoongi had only started working with Thrice in recent years and you as an extension of Yoongi in your early years at HYP.E had been nowhere near “TT” when it was brainstormed, envisioned, and then fully stamped out. That had been HYP, Assassin Bang, Namjoon, and Sunmi.

You had no idea why the young idol with the bunny teeth and dimples had specifically requested you to work on this track but you would do your best on it since it was an honor to be singled out like this by the idol singers, enough that they would think of going head to head with management and asking for you. Yes, HYP.E offered all of its artists a ton of creative liberty but when it came to assigning producers to tracks, rarely was anyone ever placed on a song from the start. The company liked to utilize a blind procedure where all of the producers that wanted to work on an album had to submit tracks and soundbites anonymously which were then assessed by a group of impartial producers who hadn’t submitted any tracks. Those beats were all then evaluated and picked apart before they were picked as the title track, one of the digital singles, a B-side, or something that was good enough to finish off the album.

The guide was what was keeping you from sending it over to Soobin though, when you finally did make a mockup of something that could work as the first draft of his title track, for now. The beat was pleasant enough and you had no doubt that one of the older producers would want to look it over after Soobin added some vocals to see what could be included to give it more spice and flavor, but this was a nice starting point.

However, the guide had your voice singing the lyrics to the song you had christened “The Sea Shanty,” in your head, a title that Soobin would never come to know, or so you hoped. The male had been adamant he wanted to sing about dolphins. You had no fucking idea why—you hated those bullies of the sea. But Namjoon had started telling you about this whale in the ocean who was the only one of its kind and unable to communicate with anyone else due to the 52 hertz frequency at which it made its whale calls. This had made you devolve into pure madness and create a song where the lyrics were about the misguided and futile friendship between a dolphin and a whale. The international fans wouldn’t know the true heartbreak of the song though, not unless they read the lyric translations, since the tempo of the track was upbeat, and it sounded so bubblegum pop and sugar sweet, it was liable to give anyone who listened to it cavities.

Sunmi had been unavailable to sing the guide for you, sadly. You had done it yourself, but you were understandably reluctant to hand over that guide to Soobin to practice with. After all, you no longer sang regularly. With a groan, you pushed your keyboard across your desk to clear the space off for you and then started lightly banging your head against the empty surface now that you were no longer at risk of accidentally pushing on a random pattern of keys with your forehead thereby ruining or deleting the very files on your desktop.

A light knock sounded before the door to L.8 Universe opened. You really needed to start using the lock on the door, you thought glumly as your eyelashes fluttered against the coolness of the glass topper that covered the entirety of your desk to keep the wood from getting scratched or banged up.

“Hey.”

It was Namjoon.

You immediately straightened up. “Oh, hello Namjoon oppa,” you murmured.

[almost ten-ish years ago]

You tried to convince yourself that it wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t be blamed for her injury.

She should’ve looked where she was going! Been more alert of her surroundings! you had angrily ranted to yourself in a bathroom stall after you had gone into the locker room. It had taken you another five minutes before you finally were able to get your panic under enough control that you were able to let yourself leave the stall and go into the showers.

The rest of the school day was a blur. You had barely paid attention during your World History course; fortunately, not knowing European politics during the 1500s wouldn’t be something that would hinder you later in life. No one cared if an idol didn’t remember one out of the dozens of wars that England and France had fought against each other. Regretfully, not only had you bombed a Trigonometry pop quiz but more importantly you hadn’t been able to find it within yourself to be one of the standout sopranos during choir practice, which was something that you normally strove to be every single day.

Now it was lunch, and you were still thinking about how your physical education class had ended that morning. You had picked up a tray filled with fresh white rice, buchu kimchi, danmuji, soondubu jjigae, and tangsuyuk from the cafeteria and immediately left the place, choosing to wander through the halls of Chun-Ah until you found an empty classroom with an unlocked door. To your luck, Ms. Lee, the Fine Art teacher had left her room unlocked like other Visual Arts teachers did most of the time since a majority of the traditional art, digital art, and mixed media students usually went into the rooms during their free periods to work on their time-consuming projects which would later be featured in their portfolios when it came time for college and art school applications.

The desks were large individual stations with a singular mini easel laid on top of each of them, most of the canvases on those easels were uncovered but some of them, the ones that their creators still wanted to keep a secret from everyone else, had loose tarps laid over them that were careful not to touch or cling to the surfaces of the canvases and mess up the artworks underneath. You walked through the aisles of desks looking at the pieces. You were no art critic, but it appeared that the class was all working on an emotion unit. All the paintings depicted raw and unfettered emotion, the vulnerability and ugliness of humanity. It was likely one of the topics for their AP Studio Art exam, though you didn’t know for sure.

You reached the end of the room and stood beside the windows where there was enough space for you to plop your butt down on the makeshift window seat and place your lunch tray next to you. After you put the tray down, you took off your backpack and placed it on the ground beside your swinging legs before scooching your bum onto the window seat. You used the metal chopsticks you had picked up in the cafeteria to pick up a piece of deep-fried crispy pork covered in sweet and sour sauce and place it into your mouth.

The flavor of the tangsuyuk exploded in your mouth. The rich taste of the ginger infused sauce heightened the impact of the crunchy potato starch covered pork you were chewing on. As you grew older, mysteriously, your sensitivity to red meat kept growing much to the surprise of you and your parents. Beef was the worst for you, and you rarely ate lamb or mutton, but fortunately pork affected you the least. You would still be getting terrible stomach aches after this that would make it difficult for you to walk back to the dorm without keeling over in pain, no doubt, but you couldn’t afford to be picky when the school’s lunch would have to tide you over for the rest of the night and you wouldn’t be able to eat again until you had one ginseng shot and a single danpatbbang, a sweet bread bun filled with red bean paste, for breakfast.

You picked at the glazed carrots, onions, and mushrooms in the tangsuyuk as well, dropping them into your freshly steamed rice and mixing them in, before picking up a nice amount with chopsticks to place into your mouth. You should probably avoid the rest of the pork in all honesty since you really could have only two or three pieces so that the pain was manageable enough that you didn’t end up having to go into the emergency room. The rest of the rice would be saved to soak up whatever broth of the soondubu jjigae remained after you had eaten all of the vegetables and tofu from the stew. You loved the bright yellow pickled daikon radish that made up danmuji, though the style of kimchi that made your other side dish wasn’t exactly one of your favorites; buchu kimchi was made of garlic chives and you didn’t like the flavor or the texture.

As you sat there poking at your food with your metal chopsticks and porcelain soup spoon, the door to the art classroom opened. The person that stepped in, to your utter dismay, was Bubbly Barbie from earlier in the day. Would she continue to plague your existence, taunting and tormenting you? you wondered in frustration staring her down.

“Oh,” she breathed, holding a steel dosirak lunch box between her hands, “I didn’t think that anyone would be here. I just came in here to work on my painting.”

As she stepped into the room, you noticed that her right knee was wrapped in several layers of tan adherent wrap while her right arm had a large rectangular bandage covering it and both her hands had white butterfly bandages covering the edges of her palms. You gulped as the guilt settled deep in the pit of your stomach but fortunately she hadn’t recognized you yet, or so you hoped.

She walked up to one of the desks towards the back, only the wall was behind them as they made up the last row of tables, before placing her boxed lunch on her desk. She stood in front of her canvas which you noted was one of the ones covered by tarp.

Conversationally, Bubbly Barbie hedged, “You look familiar. Don’t you have P.E with me?”

Your breath lodged in your throat uncomfortably. You desperately thrusted your hand towards where your backpack was on the floor besides your legs dangling from the window seat, seeking your Hydroflask filled with what was most likely room temperature water by now, since the school day was almost half over, that you seemed to urgently need at the present to clear your throat. When it was finally in your hands you quickly flipped up the mouth and held the straw to your lips pursing them around it to gulp down the water that had a faintly sour taste to it because of the vitamin C powder you had poured into it earlier in the day to help your throat and soothe it after your hours of singing practice.

“I’m sorry,” you confessed stiltedly, struggling to portray your guilt in an apologetic enough manner, “I didn’t mean to run away.”

“It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. I should’ve looked where I was going,” Bubbly Barbie easily accepted. She had gone back to her lunch and opened the top two tiers, one of which was filled with eomandu (delicious fish fillet filled dumplings) and lettuce while the other contained gimbap made of eggs, tofu, danmuji, carrots, and cucumber. “Would you like some of my food?” She asked, “My family’s cook always gives me too much food since I’m not allowed to eat school lunches and I hate wasting it.”

“Uh, alright?” you replied hesitantly, going up to her, “Are you sure you’re really okay? I’m really sorry.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” she smiled. She used a fork to stab one of the round seaweed covered gimbap and shoved it in her mouth, you would have wondered why she wasn’t using her chopsticks but you realized that perhaps her injured hand was not the most dexterous at the moment, before picking up a stick of charcoal with her left hand, “It’s a good thing it was my right side that got the brunt of the impact since I’m lefthanded. I’m still able to draw so it’s all good.”

You stood behind her peering at her canvas. On it was the portrait of a man in black and white. Fragments of hangul letters and half written phrases floated around his head. His image was fractured with lines and cracks running through his face.

“It’s RM,” she said proudly, “He’s my favorite musician. He wrote the song Badbye which is what I’m depicting in this picture to show the emotions of fear and desolation and desperation.”

“Yeah,” you breathed, “I can see that.” Your cousin Yoongi was tangentially connected to the artist RM since they belonged to the same underground rap circle. You told her as much, “My cousin is friends with him.”

“No way!” Bubbly Barbie said in excitement, “How does he know him?”

“Oh,” you murmured in a sheepish manner, “They belong to the same scene.”

“That’s crazy!”

“Yeah. I’m– I’m actually a trainee at Big Shot,” you admitted.

“That’s so cool actually,” she laughed, “Maybe you can introduce him to me one of these days.”

“Yeah maybe,” you muttered, “I’m surprised you’re still in school. I've seen Hairspray Hel– I mean, uhh– Sakura. I’ve seen Sakura go home for less. One time she sang a note out of tune that out of embarrassment she gave the director the weak excuse that her voice was strained and that she had to immediately lie down.”

Bubbly Barbie snorted, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow, “Hairspray Helmet huh?” To your dismay, she had caught your slip and your harsh nickname for Sakura even though you had caught yourself halfway. “Well, I didn’t want my parents to find out about what happened. It was only first period, and I would have missed the rest of the school day. In any case, they’re ridiculously paranoid and they’ve only recently started letting me go to this school. I was homeschooled before this.”

“Oh. Are they the protective type?” you inquired.

“You have no idea,” groaned Bubbly Barbie, “But even worse than them is my brother. He’s actually the reason why I'm hiding out here for lunch ‘working’ on my project,” she made air quotes, “Oppa is so stifling with his care and concern. I’m not a delicate hothouse flower—I can continue the rest of the school day after tripping in P.E. I plan on not seeing him until dinner tonight since I go home early when he has swim practice. This way I can still buy some time before he figures out what happened.”

“Well, it was more than a trip,” you admitted wryly.

She rolled her eyes, “You sound like you’d get on perfectly with my brother. Can you please stop apologizing and asking if I’m okay? I’m fine, truly.”

“I never did get your name,” you suddenly realized as you picked up more tofu from the stew onto your spoon.

“Oh! Sorry,” she exclaimed, “I’m Jeon ___.”

“Min Y/N.”

Namjoon stared at the side of your face from where he was sitting beside you on the black leather chair you had previously been using to house a vinyl record player. He had moved the sleek black Music Hall MMF 11.3 turntable to the top of the shelf that contained all the albums that you had worked on, mostly a collection of brightly colored Glitzy and Stray Together albums that were autographed by your young idol hoobaes. To your displeasure, you wouldn’t be able to get it down until after he left and you could use his chair as the only other furniture you could use as a boost was your rotating Sidiz office chair, unless you had somehow persuaded Soobin to come to your office. Being vertically challenged was the worst. Shouldn’t be too hard, you mused, he would have to come here eventually to look at the latest version of the title track, anyways.

“Y/N,” Namjoon coaxed, his right hand clicking the Logitech Pro X gaming mouse to replay the 30 second mark of your guide, it had been a birthday present from your cousin. You had no idea how to game, but it did help your hand keep from cramping after twelve hours of working on producing. “This is really good. I know it’s outside your comfort zone since you like working on the R&B, dream pop, and slow jam type songs more, but you hit it out of the park. I can easily see it being the breakout song of the summer if you change the song title from “The Sea Shanty,” he shook his head in bemusement.

“You know I’m really bad at song titles,” you sniped wryly, “And that’s just a placeholder. I didn’t mean for anyone to see it but you came in unexpectedly. But are you sure?” you asked, looking at him in skepticism, seeking desperate validation. “It’s a fucking whale song. My guide doesn’t exactly do the best job at iterating the vocal sound of the track either.”

“That’s not your fault Soobin wanted it to be about dolphins and sea creatures,” snorted Namjoon, “But have you considered adding a tropical flair to it? Make it like more of a beach vibe, and maybe turn the songs around from being so depressing to something that is a little more open-ended?”

You side-eyed him, putting your hand over his on the mouse and clicking pause on the track guide. “So, you hated it,” you said flatly, “You basically just told me to change everything.”

“I didn’t hate it,” Namjoon insisted, familiar with your theatrics and the doubts that always flooded your mind during your creative process, “Nothing is perfect from the get-go. I had to write over the rap lyrics for Persona like 50 times. I wanted it to be flawless and immaculately go with the melody. I think you have really good bones here. Justー” he sighed, “Soobin’s main audience is Korean, he hasn’t really been focusing on the international market on his solo endeavors yet. I don’t think he can afford to have a song with such profound and melancholy lyrics at the height of the summer. The executives at HYP.E really want him to get a couple of music show wins with his first project. Bang Chan and Yeonjun did really well with “I Don’t Want to Admit,” and the “Song Cry'' cover. But if Soobin doesn’t do as well as projected, it throws the future members’ solo debuts at risk.”

He was right but it still rankled you. You had to put aside what you wanted to do to truly deliver both what Soobin and the company wanted from you. “Yeah, yeah,” you muttered as a retort.

“Well, if you’re done with that for now and want to take a break,” Namjoon interjected, “There’s been something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”

You shot him a dirty look, “Look Joon, I have no idea how the hell you and Jungkook know each other but we’ve probably known each other longer so please don’t come into my workplace talking praises about him or whatever. I really don’t need you to be our intermediary. Especially in the workplace, okay. I prefer to keep all of that out of whatever happens here.”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, giving a glimpse into his more punctilious side. That side of him rarely came out but when it did, it showed why he had been chosen as the leader of the ill-fated BES, Bulletproof Eagle Scouts, before their early demise at the height of their career when two of the members were exposed to have an addiction to buying Pokémon cards in the black market that had thrown them severely in debt.

“If you were curious about how Jungkook and I knew each other after seeing him the other day, you could have just asked instead of being so insolent,” he murmured silkily, admonishment harsh on his tone. “In any case, Jungkook and I have known each other longer. I’ve known him for the last eight years while I’ve merely gotten to know you two years after you started working at HYP.E. I always got the impression that Yoongi was afraid of you ending up with one of the producers here. He doesn’t trust musicians.”

“Other than himself,” you interrupted.

“For relationships?” Namjoon asked, “Perhaps not even himself. But then again, the tortured romantic souls of artists never did have a great track record. Think of ABBA; Fältskog and Ulvaeus got a divorce in the early 80s and so did Lyngstad and Andersson. ABBA couldn’t survive much longer after that.”

“John Lennon and Yoko Ono stayed together,” you muttered.

“After Lennon’s death, his son Julian exposed him to be a hypocrite who treated his wife and son badly. I’m not saying Yoongi is a terrible partner. I just think he’s gotten burned so many times he’s put up walls that are going to be hard to break down.”

“True.” you admitted. Switching the subject you asked, “If you weren’t going to discuss Jungkook with me, then what?”

Namjoon let out a heavy sigh, “Have you given any more thought to what we talked about earlier this year? I’m only mentioning it because of the guide. I think you give yourself too little credit. You have an amazing voice Y/N, I wish you would share it with the world. You have so much more to offer to the music industry than just your talents as a producer.”

You straightened out, your back moving away from the curve of your Spiderman ergonomic chair, as your hackles were raised, and you immediately became on the defensive.

“Y/N,” Namjoon groaned.

“I just don’t know if I’m ready to do that. I told you I gave up on ever singing years ago. I’m not sure I want to go back to it.”

“Y/N you have so much creativity and artistry in you that is yet to be explored. You could go so far if you would only give yourself the opportunity. You’re limiting yourself by sticking to Glitzy’s teen crush noise pop sound especially when that isn’t even your personal style,” Namjoon groaned.

“I’m not ready to drop a mixtape. I'm sorry. I’m not even a Hip-Hop artist.”

“Mixtapes are no longer just being limited to Hip-Hop, it’s a way for an artist to share their ingenuity and projects without the added pressures of being trapped into the formulaic framework of an ‘album.’ You wouldn’t have to worry about any promotions that the company might want to do to announce your comeback like Soobin has to deal with or the pressures of getting a certain amount of streams and number ones on the charts, music show wins, longevity, etc. You are free to be your most authentic self and share the music that speaks to you and has meaning and layers to it. You don’t have to look at it as a product since it will be free and that will in turn free you from those feelings of obligations you have towards those that download your music. If you’re in a rut creatively, working on projects that might not turn into anything or can be used towards your mixtape is a nice outlet.”

“I suppose you’re right,” you finally admitted after Namjoon’s impassioned outburst. “I’m not agreeing to release a mixtapeー”

“But?” interjected Namjoon.

“But.” you repeated, “I guess I could be open to the idea of creating a few tracks with me in mind as the artist to perform them.”

“I can’t wait for you to explore the genres until you finally discover your own sound,” Namjoon mused, “I can see you as someone with the emo and dark pop of Melanie Martinez and the indie art pop and alternative flair of Halsey.”

You let out a dry laugh, “You give me too much credit. But I can’t work on that now. I have to rearrange the guide for Soobin and go back to the drawing board for the lyrics.”

[seven and a half-ish years ago]

It was Christmas Day.

Not that Jungkook was celebrating it.

He was still asleep, in his all but empty dorm room, save himself, lulled into deep slumber by the unexpected cold in his dorm room that winter morning. By his second month of university, Jungkook had realized that there was no point in him confining himself in a shoebox sized prison cell like room with two other dormmates who might judge him for who he was, not that he had any control over it. And he had seen too many of his friends’ friendships get ruined after sharing a living space.

No– Jungkook had realized the importance of separating his social and home lives. He could stay up as late as he wanted, working on organic chemistry equations or get up super early to go to the Terman Engineering Library, without destroying his relationships with other people. He was also turned away from living with others after coming back to school after Fall Break and seeing that his roommates had sold everything he had left in the dorms from his mini fridge to his Gucci slides. He had to report them, even if everything would have been easily replaceable and he didn’t want to make it an issue. Through the faults of his freshmen roommates entirely, he no longer felt safe living in his own dorm.

It had been a big thing, when Jungkook had wanted to change rooms and the housing board refused to let him do it for the reasons he gave of mental health and feeling uncomfortable and iced out, stating that those could all be worked out and resolved. He had finally had to give out the real reasons. Then, the housing director had to ask him if he wanted to press charges as a part of protocol. He did not. And the Residential Advisor had to monitor the three of them leading up to the disciplinary hearing. But the university had dismissed them for it even if Jungkook had wanted to sweep the entire thing under the rug. His two sullen roommates had watched him move out with the RA standing guard from the hallway to keep sure nothing got too volatile or violent. They blamed Jungkook for the departmental committee finding grounds for dismissal and expulsion, as though Jungkook had ruined their chances of being first generation graduates or giving their parents a chance at retirement instead of working themselves to the grave. But Jungkook had done his best to be nothing but kind to them. He understood wanting to eat the rich but if they had even put in a little effort to get to know him, they would have seen that he was not like his father and other stereotypical evil billionaires. In another lifetime, perhaps they would have also become friends.

All in all, it had certainly soured his willingness to live with others.

Though it rarely snowed in California, and the sun was shining brightly through clear skies that gave no hint of the harsh bitter cold that persisted underneath them, there was still frost hugging the edges of the windows. A full body shiver-inducing chill wheedled its way into Jungkook’s room through its gaps and crevices as well as through the unsealed perimeters of the metal door that kept his room shut.

The temperature in his room was controlled by the housing department. The dorms didn’t have individual thermostats that the students could control. No doubt, the university didn’t want their gas and electricity bill to go up because of the students. As such, it was 28°F in Jungkook’s room, and Stanford, assuming that most of its students wouldn’t be at school for the holidays, had turned off the auto-heating for all the floors of the residential halls. Instead, they were only keeping heat in the room for the students that had told their floor that they would be staying at school.

That would’ve been fine, except一 Jungkook had not been one of those students.

Instead, Jungkook had boarded the plane back home at the San Jose International Airport ten days ago, expecting that his return home would have been a welcome one. His sister had been happy to see him, and it had started off well enough.

But if it had gone smoothly then Jungkook would not be here all alone in the dead of winter huddled underneath two scratchy comforters from Target, a duvet from Ikea, and a fleece red blanket that had a giant red S outlined in red and white with a redwood tree in the center from the student store.

His cellphone was dead, completely drained of juice from his frantic attempts to reach out and communicate ever since his plane had touched down on the landing strip. It had been futile as all his desperate attempts had been met by avoidance. The device was lying next to the soft halo of his rumpled black hair, a bedheaded mess on his pillow. There were dried tracks, his tears from crying himself to sleep when he had made his way back into the dorm last night, staining his cheeks.

What difference did it make if today was Christmas?

He had been strong-armed into stepping onto the plane in Incheon on Christmas Eve. Cruelly, he had gotten marched to the private entrance for VIP fliers with two of his father’s men locking him in between them with the harshness of their grips on his biceps. And due to the time difference, his family had probably all celebrated the occasion hours ago. They were likely getting ready to attend the Jung’s Christmas Ball right at this very moment.

Jungkook should just stay in bed for the entire day. God, he wanted to. But the pounding in his head and on his door wouldn’t relent.

At first, he had thought he had been dreaming but as the loud knuckle raps continued to rain down on his front door, he was unceremoniously nudged out of his restless slumber. He blearily looked towards the door as he rubbed his eyes and tried to dislodge the few remnants of his drowsiness away as he blinked. The resounding knocks did not ebb.

What the fuck?

No one knew Jungkook was here. There had been too little time in between his father deciding to forcibly make him leave and his arrival to San Francisco that he hadn’t been able to text any of his friends to let them know that he would be back early.

The way that he had left the country had brought on another onslaught of crying. He couldn’t help himself, as he sobbed, his pillow becoming wet from the snot and tears that dripped onto it. He had truly gone and done it this time. He didn’t know why he always was so sure his father would never find out一 his father always found out. And then he made it his life’s mission to ruin his son’s life as much as possible as a consequence for Jungkook’s disobedience.

When he had shoved Jungkook into the chauffeured town car, he had hissed to Jungkook that he would no longer be paying for anything except for that which was related to his education. This meant that there would be no food for Jungkook unless he ate in the dining halls, no housing for Jungkook unless he lived in the dorms, and absolutely no money for anything else.

That much had all been fine. Jungkook wasn’t a spoiled child. But what hurt him the most was that his father had not only said that he would no longer be paying for Jungkook’s plane tickets to go between home and school but that he had also sentenced Jungkook to stay in the United States and not return back to Seoul until he had that iconic parchment colored diploma in hand, in its special red leather folder, a script font denoting his Bachelors in Biochemical Engineering and Business and Latin honors of summa cum laude with the gold seal of Stanford University marking it for authenticity. Whatever job Jungkook could get working on campus, it would never be enough to pay for more than one round trip to Korea a year to see his sister. That part hurt the most. His father would pay for him to study abroad and even do an exchange program for a semester in yet another foreign country, but he refused to let him back home to see his family.

Jungkook had been ignoring the knocks for the last five minutes as he laid in bed, heavy in his thoughts, but the raps grew even more persistent until it sounded like whoever was behind the door was attempting to take it down by sheer force. Suddenly spooked, he got up and edged his way to the entrance to his dorm while clinging to its walls, his white toe socks aiding him as he scampered over the ugly grey threadbare carpet that covered the floors.

Jungkook took a deep breath for mental fortitude and swiftly opened the door, just narrowly missing Kim Namjoon’s hand as he swung it forward for another knock.

“Namjoon hyung?” Jungkook sniffed, his nose still clogged after all his crying.

“Jeon Jungkook!” barked Namjoon almost sounding accusatory; he seemed irate, though for the life of him, Jungkook could not imagine why.

“Namjoon hyung, what are you doing here?” Jungkook asked, “How did you even know that I would be here?”

Namjoon blinked, his expression losing some of its heat as he carefully took Jungkook in, “Jungkook are you okay?”

“Not really, I suppose,” Jungkook confessed tearfully. “But I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”

“Oh, I saw you come in last night,” Namjoon interjected stiltedly, “I’m the residential advisor for the first floor remember? There’s not really any freshman that gets in or out of the building without me knowing. Especially since the security guards ask me to sit in and watch the cams while they take bathroom breaks when I’m around.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Jungkook mumbled. “Can I help you hyung?”

“I–” stammered Namjoon, “I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing.”

“Oh. Thank you hyung, but I’m really not up for conversation.”

Jungkook moved to close the door again, but Namjoon blocked his way, holding it open, “But,” he blurted, “It’s Christmas, Jungkook! You can’t be alone on Christmas! One of my friends planned a brunch and you can come with me if you want.”

“I must confess hyung, I’m not really up for company either.”

“Oh, well,” paused Namjoon, “That’s okay too, we don’t have to go celebrate with a crowd of people.”

“Hyung,” pleaded Jungkook. “Don’t cancel your plans to spend time with me, please.”

“Hey, you don’t have to tell me what’s wrong Jungkook,” retorted Namjoon gruffly, “But I’m not leaving you alone today, so why don’t you put on a pair of real pants and get your fancy down jacket because we are going to go grub down on all you can eat soup dumplings at Madame Fong’s.”

Every so often, Jungkook got the urge again to change up his appearance. Usually, it was tame enough that dyeing his hair another color would be all that was needed to satisfy him. But since coming back to Seoul a year and a half ago, he’s kept his hair the same business appropriate black color to offset his bankkan hairstyle, which was slightly different from the more popular comma hairstyle. It was a half down hairdo that showed off his bangs but had the rest of his hair pushed back with hair pomade or gel depending on how much effort he wanted to put into it. He could still pull it off, though it had been a month and a half since his last cut and his hair had grown out quite a bit.

But Jungkook’s inability to dye his hair made his need for change manifest in other ways and he usually found himself at the Truth Studio tattoos and piercings parlor that was owned by one of his high school friends, Kim Yugyeom. Yugyeom was responsible for inking on the long stretch of images that covered Jungkook’s right arm from the fingertips all the way to his shoulder and curving around to cover his blade as well. Of all the tattoos Yugyeom had etched on Jungkook’s golden skin, his favorite creations were probably the tiger lily that started above his brachioradialis, his birth flower which had its meaning “Please Love Me” written underneath it diagonally, and the ornate clock he had across his forearm which always reminded him to treasure time since it often felt like he was moving at a pace much faster than his peers.

However, today, Jungkook was at Yugyeom’s tattoo and piercing parlor for a wholly different reason, and he had to tamp down on that part of him that was very vocally yet entirely internally screaming at him to change things up.

He was waiting for Yugyeom in the little office his friend had towards the back of the building while he was off working on a client. Their friend Eunwoo’s birthday had passed a couple of weeks ago but the male had been in Europe all this time, so they were planning a huge ‘surprise’ event for him to take place on an upcoming Saturday. The details were almost completely finalized; they just needed to add a few finishing details.

After a man became a star of Eunwoo’s magnitude or had his caliber of talent, which had endless scores of devoted fans who sent coffee shop trucks to his every project and opportunity thrown his way as well as dozens of talented showrunners, directors and scriptwriters who chased him down and were desperate to work with him, not having a lot of buzz and hullabaloo surrounding his birthday festivities was nearly impossible.

Eunwoo was aware that his friends were setting something up for his birthday that would inevitably end up on the entertainment section of various outlets to some degree. This year, instead of planning an intimate affair that would get leaked to the press by some inexperienced staff member at the private room of the club they booked that didn’t know the proper protocol for VVIP guests or a yacht captain that didn’t care about secrecy and thought opening his mouth to the gossip rags would get him a bigger paycheck than the one Jungkook would sign in return for his services, the same age gang had planned something bigger and more elaborate.

It was going to be a moment to celebrate not only Eunwoo’s age but his triumphant return after his film “Among the Marigolds” had likely won Grand Prix and he had won Prix d'interprétation masculine at the Festival de Cannes for his performance as Mikkhail Ko, a dead broke struggling musician and international transfer student, just one of the members of a circle of unlikely global friends who had all come in and out of each other’s lives for the next fifteen years after their unlikely friendship that formed when the University of Edinburgh canceled their degree’s subject and left them all floundering in their final year.

The celebration was set to take place the weekend after Cannes since everyone in the Korean showbiz industry was well familiar with the talented actor’s superstitious side and how he refused to celebrate anything that had an awards ceremony coinciding with it until the ceremony was over, so Jungkook and his friends had a little more than a month left to perfect their planning.

It would also be the first time that the entire group would be able to see each other in more than two years. Minghao had married a model eight months ago and had been traveling the world with her as she walked different runways in four continents, who had finally returned to Seoul after finishing the latest show in Tokyo as the face of Prada’s fall/winter collection. Jaehyun had been busy raising his twin sons as a single father but now that they were both two, he had found the perfect daycare to keep them occupied during the day and au pair to help him at home. The others had been equally busy and unavailable themselves—Mingyu and Dokyeom hadn’t even been able to make it to Jungkook’s wedding in February.

Speaking of Jungkook’s wedding. The groom, himself, had his life completely turned upside down in between his new wife and his constant shuffling of positions at Jeon Pharmaceuticals. Thinking of his pretty wife who reminded him of a gumiho with her eyes that were sharp with cleverness and reminiscent of a fox’s, he had to convince her to move in with him today. He groaned, remembering that he also had to convince her to join him for the fête for Eunwoo when he got the chance. Beguiling Y/N was a complicated affair and Jungkook had to always think of an ironclad plan of how to get his way that had multiple backup and alternative methods of persuasion to fall back on at any moment that his attempt to work her went south.

As Jungkook was ruminating on how complex life had gotten since getting leg-shackled, Yugyeom finally walked into his office, still working in his antibacterial sanitizer into his hands, having pressed down on the the door handle with an elbow and kicking it further open with the tip of right foot, enclosed in a steel toed boot.

“Oh good, you’re here,” Jungkook elated, “Things happened.”

“I just got finished with working on a client that added seven new piercings. I think that has been the most fun I’ve had in a while,” Yugyeom admitted, “There’s some sick kind of pleasure I derive from poking holes in people’s bodies.”

Jungkook snorted.

But before he could even say another word, he was once again interrupted by Yugyeom, “Don’t fucking judge me bro; it’s a safe space at Truth Studio.”

“Like you even care about my opinion that much,” Jungkook teased, “Or should we finally talk out what happened at Madame Dupont's when we were 20.”

“Don’t you dare!” hissed Yugyeom.

Madame Dupont’s had been a French pleasure house that specialized in the more depraved and less socially acceptable kinks that the boys had accidentally found while doing their summer abroad program through their universities. The two had ended up going to different schools: Jungkook at Stanford, of course, and Yugyeom at the University of Chicago but they had planned out their course loads so that they could spend their fall semester abroad in the same year at Sorbonne University. Mingyu and Jaehyun had been able to coordinate it with them too and they had shared the student apartment between the four of them.

It had been a tiny, cramped space with a living room that merged with the kitchen, a singular bedroom that had a decently sized walk-in closet, and one bathroom. The four males had ended up shoving their individual, as flimsy as cardboard and ridiculously narrow, beds together, backing them against a corner between two walls creating one large bed and had slept next to each other sharing sheets, pillows, and comforters to open up more space in the room for storage and walking. It had definitely bonded them together like none other and had additionally made them infinitesimally closer. But it had also meant that they had to get inventive in their sexual pursuits with the adventurous French girls and they had ended up at the sex club.

It had been a BDSM safe haven. Let's just get that out of the way. Jungkook had learned more about himself than he had ever known and Yugyeom had discovered his fascination with shibari.

“Changing the subject,” stressed Yugyeom, “I did two lip piercings for the client. They wanted two white gold hoops on their lower lip that was aligned with their upper canines and in the trick of light I guess you could say that they could make people think that his teeth were extended like vampire fangs. They also got a new eyebrow piercing and added to the row of extensive collection of helix piercings they had lining both ears. And get this,” whistled Yugyeom, “A freaking guiche piercing behind their ballsack!”

Jungkook grimaced looking at Yugyeom’s hands, “Well I hope you thoroughly washed, disinfected, and sanitized your hands after that.”

“I was wearing latex gloves.”

“Okay and? You should still,” scoffed Jungkook.

“Oh my god,” Yugyeom rolled his eyes. “I fucking did.”

“I want new piercings,” whined Jungkook, “Being next in line for the CEO sucks.”

“You sound so privileged and out of touch with reality,” snorted Yugyeom, teasing his older friend. “Imagine complaining about having the opportunity to become CEO of a multi-billion dollar and well-respected corporation.”

“You’re right,” Jungkook agreed, his words tightly wound from a place of hurt. There was a shakiness to his voice.“I am privileged– I’m sorry.”

“Jungkook no I–” stammered Yugyeom.

“Bambam’s been having a headache with the catering. Apparently, the resort took back their agreement for independent businesses and freelancers for events that take place, and they sent him a list of vendors that they’re associated with,” Jungkook cut across him sharply. “Do you have time to meet up with the gang at Dokyeom’s after work?”

“What the hell,” retorted Yugyeom, “Does this violate the contract that Mingyu had signed when he put down the deposit? And yeah, I’m free! Let’s go dude.”

“Apparently not,” groused Jungkook, “But it was Eunwoo’s favorite Japanese restaurant! Den never does catering and it also rarely closes down on the weekend to cater to a singular clientele. Especially a client who was paying top dollar to fly out all the chefs to Seoul from Tokyo for a party. None of the hotel’s partners specialize in kaiseki cuisine. He talks about their fucking foie gras monaka all year long. Alright, sounds good. I’ll drive.”

“Well of course they don't, this is Korea,” snarked Yugyeom bitterly, “What alternative did he come up with?”

“He’s in between Soigné & Shanghai, if you can believe it, a company that specializes in modern Chinese and French fusion and 7 Senses which ‘reimagines the time-honored traditions of Korean cuisine with a contemporary touch’ if the caterers aren’t completely speaking out of their asses.”

Yugyeom snorted, “At least I know that the event planner is going to do a spectacular job. You know, I’m actually very excited. They’re getting ice sculptures as centerpieces and ten champagne fountains to fill out the space and get the guests well and truly hammered.” He smirked infectiously, and Jungkook’s lips pulled up to reveal his pearly whites as he stared at the shine of his friend’s grin.

Yugyeom tidied up, getting prepared to leave his shop as his workday was over. His employees would be closing up the parlor today. “You ready to meet the boys at the nightclub? I’m good to go if you are.”

Jungkook shrugged nonchalantly and moved his feet off the desk, brushing out his pant legs to get rid of the wrinkles.

“Did Minghao tell you his wife, Nana, is excited to meet Y/N?” Yugyeom asked as he locked up the office behind Jungkook after they had both left the room.

Jungkook scrunched up his forehead, “I don’t think so.”

“Yeah, expect a lot of double dates in your future,” Yugyeom teased, “For some reason, Nana didn’t like Sowon and she said that Yeji is too young for her.” Jaehyun’s ex-wife and Eunwoo’s girlfriend.

“Yeji is only two or three years younger than us,” mused Jungkook in confusion, “or so I thought, anyway.”

“Nana is older than Minghao, remember? Also, Yeji definitively acts like she’s a part of gen Z and I’m pretty sure we’re millennials.”

“Y/N’s gen Z, the divide happens the year after us,” snorted Jungkook.

“Yes, but your wife is more mature than you,” explained Yugyeom mockingly slow, enunciating his every word.

“Shut up,” sniped Jungkook, punching Yugyeom in the arm softly.

“We want to meet her okay,” Yugyeom stressed, “Properly. We barely got to talk to you at your wedding, let alone interact with her. And, I know you said the two of you knew each other from before and you were going along with the wedding; however, we still can’t help but worry about you because of the abruptness of it all.”

“She’ll be at the party,” promised Jungkook, clicking on his key fob and unlocking his belladonna purple Rolls Royce Phantom, yet another wedding present from his parents, in mind with the thought of it becoming his family car, though his wife had yet to ride in it or drive it. It was certainly an upgrade from the metallic black Mercedes Maybach S 580 he had been driving since his return to South Korea after finishing his MBA. But as this was a present that was meant to be shared and enjoyed with others; Jungkook frequently found himself volunteering to chauffeur when he and his friends got together.

“Hey, Jungkook?” asked Yugyeom softly as he sank his butt into the buttery white leather expansive seats.

“Hmm,” murmured his friend, shifting the gear to neutral and checking his mirrors.

“I didn’t,” Yugyeom paused, “I didn’t mean to invalidate your feelings.”

Jungkook stayed silent, fiddling with the vents in between their seats, tilting them up and then messing around with the radio until he found a station he liked.

Yugyeom sighed and then continued, “You have a right to express yourself the way you feel that you are. It’s not fair to you that you have to always have to cover your arms or your right hand, or even that you had to take out your gauges and only wear one set of nondescript earrings. I hope things get better for you at work soon and if you ever need help showing who you are to the world, I’m here for you, and I’ll help you do it.”

“Thanks man I really appreciate it,” chuckled Jungkook, “You better pencil me in for a conch piercing and one on my eyebrow for right after my inauguration as the head of the company.”

“Of course! It’ll be my gift to you to celebrate the occasion,” Yugyeom snorted agreeably, “And once you want to start on your left arm because you ran out of space on your right, I’ll be there for that too.”

Jungkook was not tipsy. He was euphoric.

He felt like Harry Potter in the Half-Blood Prince movie after the titular character had drunk down a vial full of golden Felix Felicis, liquid luck, and decided to convince his Potions professor to attend the funeral of a giant spider with him.

He felt that same type of confidence in the face of the absolute absurdity he was about to involve himself in.

Or so, he had convinced himself that he was confident at his chances of succeeding as he stood outside the twenty-five story structure that made up the massive HYP.E building. It had eight levels underground as well and was a truly magnificent piece of architectural conglomeracy that stood out as a recognizable landmark as a part of Seoul’s business sector’s cityscape. It was 11pm, and the lights were off in the office and employee welfare departments. However, the ground floor to tenth, which made up the entertainment production section, had a speckled formation of lit up offices bathing the building in black and yellow against the navy blue cloudless night sky.

His wife’s office was not one of the ones with their lights on. Some of them were no doubt from desperate trainees and already debuted idols using the impressive in-house gym or from the trainees and idols similarly locking themselves up in dance practice rooms to practice solo, leaving the rest of their teams scampering to find other unused rooms to brush up their moves in. He remembered that Y/N had a windowless studio and was almost bathed in darkness courtesy of the deep almost black but actually plum gray walls. She couldn’t function in the darkness however and had rows of yellow white twinkle lights and neon light stripes brightened to a peachy color lining the room, introducing light into the space.

He got sidetracked as he pondered about Y/N’s L.8 Universe studio and contemplated whether or not he should get her smart light bulbs for further illumination of the place. Though Jeon Pharmaceuticals mostly worked on the medicine and health side of things, the technology department had connections with just about every major tech or electronic company in East Asia you could think of. But as he was thinking, he was also walking and he entered the building, fully determined to make his way to her floor and inform her that she had to move in with him. Oh, yes, this part is important. He had to tell her she had no choice in this; she had to do this as one of the stipulations of their marriage for the next year. But he had no idea how to convince her of it in a way that would make her easily agreeable and readily acquiesce.

The lobby of the HYP.E building was mostly empty, the fountain was still running water but more slowly and a lesser amount while the lights were dimmed. The entrance greeters had left for the day a long time ago. Jungkook blearily raised an eyebrow, swiping his mouth with the back of his left hand. Now that he was actually in the building, he suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of anxiousness. Perhaps liquid courage had not been the best idea after all.

As he loitered in the lobby, he heard the elevators up ahead of him open and saw two individuals come out, the female walking swiftly and several paces in front of the male. They were making a beeline straight for him, most likely going to pick up a dinner order delivery as they worked overtime at the office. Jungkook was confused when the female turned in her tracks slightly and headed right in his direction, almost barreling into him as her arms wrapped around his middle and her face became smooshed against his chest.

The panic increased. “Uh, um,” Jungkook stuttered. He was married and this was his wife’s building. His hands moved to grasp her waist as he made the decision to throw her off him.

“Just go along with it, Jeon,” muttered Y/N against the hollow of his neck.

Jungkook gulped, nervously taking advantage of the situation to have his hands finally fall on your waist and his fingers stop jerkily fluttering. “Hello, wife.”

“What are you doing here?” you asked, “Not that I mind; you’ve finally decided to be useful for once. But... is this going to turn into a regular thing? I can’t have my husband visiting me at work every day.”

“Why not,” retorted Jungkook mulishly. The buzz he had made it slightly hard for him to focus and though he wanted to pay attention to the odd phrasing of Y/N’s words… just how was Jungkook being ‘useful for once’… he soon found himself distracted as you spoke again.

“I mean, why would you even want to?”

Through your entire back and forth, you hadn’t once made a move to break out of Jungkook’s hold. If anything, this was the longest he had been in such close proximity to you. Even at your wedding, you couldn’t get away from him soon enough after you two had been declared husband and wife and he had sealed the deal with his lips in the faintest semblance of a kiss. It had been more like a brush, honestly, with how quickly you had turned your head away and then stepped out of his embrace.

“I was thinking that I could start taking you back home after your work is done for the day,” Jungkook suggested.

“What would be the point, we don’t live together.” Y/N sounded utterly confused.

“That’s actually why I came today. I wanted to discuss something with you,” Jungkook confessed. His fingertips were rubbing circles into your sides, but you didn’t say anything. Later, Jungkook would blame his forwardness on the alcohol, though he would still be unable to explain why you had gone along with it so easily.

You took advantage of your husband’s intoxicated absentmindedness to glance to your left where Junsoo was loitering a few paces away, after having coerced you into eating a meal with him. You preferred to build natural relationships with the trainees instead of this kind of forced interaction where it was clear that the only reason they were paying any attention to you or kissing up was because they thought you had a rather great deal of sway when it came to finalizing the new groups’ picks of trainees that would be debuting. You shook your head at him in faux sheepishness and shrugged, indicating that you were otherwise occupied with Jungkook.

“Oh well, the lobby isn’t a good place for that. Let me just get my food and we can head to my studio.”

A little later, you were walking side by side to your much taller husband with a bag of food from Tokkijung that you had refused to let Jungkook hold much to his displeasure. Chivalry wasn’t dead, Y/N just hated it.

“Why were you so excited to see me,” he scrunched up his face with suspicion as he side-eyed you, the thought suddenly intruding his mind on your walk after being forgotten ten minutes ago, “You’ve never been that thrilled to see me. Not even when we were in high school.”

You stopped dead in your tracks in your shock that Jungkook would bring up things that you had thought you both had both agreed to leave in the past. Although, truthfully it wasn’t as if you had ever had a discussion about what topics were considered off the table.

“I suppose that’s true, but you helped me out this time,” Y/N admitted. Once again, the alarm bells were ringing in Jungkook’s head. Helped you out how?

You didn’t seem to be paying any heed to the inner turmoil that was ransacking Jungkook’s brain, instead walking ahead of him with brisk strides that he admired for a moment, noting the way your ass flexed in those too tight pants, in his opinion, and the way your hips swayed so rhythmically. It took him a second to realize that you were twenty paces ahead of him and he suddenly found himself playing catch up.

Jungkook looked at all the food containers in between your hands, “That’s an alarming amount of food. Were you planning on downing all of that by yourself?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, “Consider yourself lucky Jeon, you can stay and eat some if you want. I did say I would try to be amicable for the next year, didn't I?”

You two had reached your room and you accessed the locked door with the fingerprint scanner, letting Jungkook in ahead of you and closing the door behind you both.

You immediately went to the coffee table unpacking the side dishes of tempura vegetables, vegan gyoza, tamagoyaki and chilled tofu. Jungkook raised an eyebrow quizzically when you pulled out two ramen bowls and one of them was a tonkotsu pork one, “Y/N, you don’t eat red meat,” he couldn’t help but remember that after the humiliating spectacle the two of you had put on at his niece’s birthday party.

“I guess you lucked out then,” you said, a sense of finality to your words that allowed no space for question while you avoided answering why you had two servings for dinner. You placed the ramen in front of him on the coffee table so he could enjoy the meal from where he sat on your small two-seater, “I can smell the alcohol on your breath. You must be getting the late-night munchies.”

Jungkook gritted his teeth as he ignored the slight to ponder over the abundance of food instead before slowly coming to a freeze. “Y/N,” he groaned in a slightly chilling manner, “Who were you going to eat dinner with?” It seemed that he didn’t care too much about your attempts to table a discussion.

“Why are you here?” interrupted his wife instead. “Didn’t you say you had something important to tell me.”

Jungkook sighed, reaching for his forehead to rub at his temples with the three middle fingers from both hands. He let you beguile him and hedged, “We’ve been married for two months, and you haven’t even gone through the wedding presents with me.”

“Is this what this is all about?” you asked, shoving a gyoza in your mouth, “If you wanted me to write thank you notes or something you could've just divided the list in two with us both taking a half.”

“No,” grunted Jungkook, as he opened the ramen container and the smell of rich fatty pork overtook the air. “This is about how my parents bought us a car to share and an apartment to live in together but you’ve yet to make use of either.”

“I don’t have a car,” muttered Y/N, almost intentionally missing the point.

“I know,” whined Jungkook, “So from now on can you use the Rolls Royce? I still have my old Mercedes Maybach I can use if we both need a car at the same time.”

“You want me to drive a five-hundred-thousand dollar car… are you insane?”

“Then I’ll get you a chauffeur, or whatever, I’ll drive you around in it but you know what my parents are like一 we can’t ignore a present from them unless we want our heads on pikes.”

“Is that why you’re here?” you blurted, “You were serious about driving me home? No offense but I kind of like that you don’t know where I live.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, “I know all about the apartment in Yongsan, Y/N, Namjoon hyung’s building is literally right across from yours. No, this is about you moving in with me because of the other wedding present from my parents. You need to move into the Seocho townhouse.”

“Why?! I like things as they are now!” you protested. You skipped over the part where Jungkook said he knew exactly where you lived. You knew his address too, but the difference between him knowing where you lived and driving you home was that your husband was the type of man who would see you up the building all the way to your floor and make sure you entered the door to your apartment before leaving you, all to make sure that you were safe and sound. You didn’t need that kind of attention from him.

“Well of course you do, but you’re hardly giving it your best try to make this marriage work when we live twenty minutes away from each other and have busy schedules, now are you?”

“Ugh, when do you want me to be moved in by then?” You were quickly realizing you would be getting nowhere by arguing with Jungkook even if the man was half drunk.

“Cancel your plans for the weekend, you need to move your clothes and things into the apartment,” Jungkook shrugged.

“Are you serious, Jungkook? It’s not even the end of the month and I paid the rent which is fucking expensive, you know? Some of us work for our money and every won matters.”

“I’ll pay for you to break out of your lease,” Jungkook replied with a hardness to his voice. He worked for his money too. What the fuck. “But I won’t let you use that as an excuse to push back your move-in date.”

You bit your lip and glared at him.

“I’ll even organize movers and be around for the weekend if you need my help,” he suggested.

“No, I can do this myself!” you angrily bit out.

Jungkook ignored your irate glare and continued to grub down on the food. Before he could forget he felt the front pocket of his black Burberry lambskin coat and took out the key fob for the Rolls Royce placing it beside the container of tofu you had been eating from.

“I need you to take the car home tonight. Actually, keep it until you move in,” he muttered, “I can’t drive it home right now and I’m sure that even though you don’t have a car, your apartment still gave you a parking spot.”

You scowled, “Actually they did not. And how are you going to get home if you give me the car?”

He shrugged, “I was planning on ordering an Uber.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Jeon Jungkook,” you gritted, “I can drive you home and park the car in your garage before getting an Uber for myself.”

“Sounds good to me,” he nodded, inwardly smiling. He had never forgotten how outspoken you were, but it had been some time since he had heard you swear so freely as you tried to express yourself. “I’m going to get water from the on-floor snack station. Do you want anything?”

The news that you were changing homes quickly slipped from Namjoon’s and Yoongi’s mouths into the other ears that made up the workers at HYP.E building. Neither of them could keep a secret to save their lives, and they were best friends. Perhaps you and Jungkook would be better off with new confidantes.

But Yoongi’s loose tongue, fuck the tongue technology, and flapping lips were why you found yourself in this predicament bright and early on Saturday morning. You were already up, doing last minute packing of boxes with a mug of steaming hot jasmine green tea that still had the spoon you had used to stir honey in it. The mug you were holding was ginormous, requiring both hands cupping it to drink from it, and you nearly burned your tongue as you were sipping from it when you heard a knock on the front door.

Biting off a curse you put the mug down, looking back at it wistfully, knowing that its heat would be gone quickly, before you went to the entrance of your studio apartment. It would be just like Jeon Jungkook to show up uninvited at your home after you told him you didn’t need his help.

“Can I help you,” you greeted with a scowl, opening the door with as much force as you could muster up on your 5’3, read: 5’2 and mere millimeters, frame.

“Hello sunbaenim,” answered Kang Taehyun, bowing as low as he could without bending his knees, which was actually quite far. The twerp was deceptively flexible. In his hands was a giant plastic box with air holes within which was a relatively small albino corn snake.

“Taehyun, what are you doing at my apartment? You can’t just meet up with random women when Dispatch is obsessed with trying to ruin Stray Together’s career with any hint of scandal,” you admonished him.

“It’s okay, noona,” Taehyun said, stepping carelessly into your home, a giant smile taking over his angelic features, “You’re married and you’re also my producer.”

“How did you even find out my address,” you groused, locking the door behind him and following him as he walked through the apartment.

“Soobin gave it to me after he found out you were moving,” he chirped.

“Excuse me?” you blurted. “And how does Soobin一”

Taehyun ignored you as he looked over the disorganized mess of half-filled boxes as well as the unconstructed ones littering your floor, making it a safety hazard to walk. He put down the box with his pet in it on top of an empty bookshelf lining the wall and turned to you solemnly, stippling his fingers together as he looked at you.

“Noona, is it true you’re moving to a townhouse?” he asked instead.

“Iー yes,” you stuttered, “But what does that have to do with anything?”

“Noona you have to take Aengdu in to live with you!” he begged, falling on his knees before you and clinging to your legs.

“Taehyun, what?”

“Aengdu went viral after the SMOAs found out about his existence.” he bemoaned. “Did the members really have to blurt out that I spent a lot of our furniture allowance on a pet snake? He was for the entire dorm to enjoy!”

“I still don’t see what this has to do with me,” you replied, grimacing around the sip of tea you had just taken. Either it was the draftiness of the apartment, or this mug just didn’t retain heat well; your drink had already gone lukewarm in the short time since Taehyun had entered your home.

“Noona, noona,” repeated Taehyun, trying to make you understand, “Our apartment manager found out. Apparently, we’re not allowed to have pets. I didn’t know! Why on earth would HYP.E even get us an apartment that had rules against pets?!”

“Oh,” was all that you could answer in reply. You could only shrug as you looked at him helplessly, “Taehyun, I wouldn’t even know the first thing about keeping a pet snake alive or healthy.”

“It’ll only be for a little while, noona.” urged Taehyun, “Our managers said that they’re trying to get us a larger apartment that would fit thirteen people more easily. Rooms with three and four instead of five of us in one room on bunk beds and eight in the other. And if you bring him with you to work, I can even see him there!”

You narrowed your eyes, “Hmm, Taehyun,” you mused as you pondered over the request, “I’ll do it on the condition that I don’t have to transport him anywhere and that out of all of you, at least one of you will come by each week to visit your pet.”

“Sounds good to me, noona! You’re an angel sent from above!” breathed Taehyun, clapping his hands together enthusiastically.

“I really need to get going by filling up these boxes; the movers are coming within the next hour.”

“I can stay and help,” Taehyun chirped cheerfully, “It’ll help me figure out the directions to your new house anyways if I help you take Aengdu with me.”

A little later in the day, you were at the townhouse in Seocho, busy organizing. The structure of the place confused you a little. Of the five stories, one of them was the attic and the bottom two were the garage; the lowest floor was an underground basement garage while the the floor above it was more of a half garage with space for a rather large mudroom or junk room finishing off the space with a half bath and a decently sized but incomprehensibly placed open stretch of flooring. The first livable floor had a giant kitchen as well as an expansive living room with other rooms boxed off for other types of recreation and the second livable floor had four bedrooms and two bathrooms, one of which was attached to the master bedroom.

You assumed your husband was out for the weekend doing God knows what, but to your surprise, as you were helping the movers unbox your expensive state-of-the-art Vitamix blender and Jura automatic espresso and coffee machine, Jungkook walked into the kitchen wearing nothing but a towel.

His wet black hair was clinging to his nape and curling into messy tendrils as it dried. There was still a little bit of water clinging to his chest and dripping down from his hair to trail down his body. Your husband was built like a Greek god, you noted with bemusement as you took him in with a slackened jaw. That man had muscles upon muscles lining his entire frame, tightly corded with not even an inch of fat anywhere. His abdomen featured an eight-pack and his tummy was flat with a delectable trail of dark hair acting as an arrow pointing south. His biceps were as big as a holiday ham served on Christmas and the right arm had a full sleeve of tattoos decorating it down to his fingers; you had never noticed them before because for a majority of the time that Jungkook was with you, including on your wedding date, he always wore long sleeved shirts and a black Nappa leather Prada glove on his right hand.

When he walked past you to head straight for the fancy Samsung refrigerator, you gasped when you noticed that you could see the perfectly round globes of his ass jutting against the towel, one ill-advised move and that tiny sham of a towel he had wrapped around his hips would come undone and show you his glorious lower half, revealing not only his sculpted ass that you could bounce a quarter off of but also the cock that you knew would be magnificent.

“What are you doing here?!” you spluttered, angry at how his mere presence had put you at a shocking loss for words moments earlier.

“I live here,” Jungkook retorted as he grabbed a grapefruit and ran it under cold water in the sink to wash it clean.

“You told me to move in today!” you protested, taken aback. You hadn’t expected that your first interaction with Jungkook would have come so quickly nor that he would have been basically nude when it had happened.

“I told you to move in this weekend,” Jungkook deadpanned wryly. “Did you really think that I wouldn’t ever be around when we were living together?”

You narrowed your eyes into slits as you gazed at him, giving him a disparaging once over, “I didn’t expect you to be au natural in the common areas, especially when we had company over!”

“I didn’t take you to be a prude,” scoffed Jungkook, plating up his freshly cut grapefruit into a bowl and grabbing a pair of stainless steel chopsticks from the utensils drawer. “I’m sure the movers have seen other men walking around in towels before. Don’t you ever go to the bathhouses, Y/N?”

He held in his laughter; your eyes were so narrowed and squinty that you didn’t even look as though you could see him through the rage of your glare.

“Can you leave?” you hissed, slumping onto the kitchen island where Aengdu was sleeping blissfully unaware in his temporary home. Your shortened hair swept over your face from the haircut you were soon beginning to regret. Jungkook was talking out of his unfortunately beautiful and entirely undeserved spectacular ass; bathhouses were sectioned off based on gender for common areas. You might see men in the clothes the establishment provided where the hot food and snacks were, but you didn’t see them walking around with their chests out in skimpy towels. “You’re slowing me down and I have more than just unpacking on my schedule for this weekend!”

When he noticed the snake out of the corner of his eye he ambled towards you with smooth fluidity to his strides, “You have a pet snake?” he inquired.

You were taken aback by the sudden close proximity you had to Jungkook. It was even more distracting and unnerving when he was only about ten inches away from you and you could practically feel his body heat radiating off of his golden uncovered limbs.

“I do. Is that a problem?” you sneered at him, peeling back your lips and baring your teeth with hostility.

“No,” Jungkook shook his head, “Can I hold him?”

“I suppose,” you muttered. But all too soon, you regretted your words when you saw the thin corn snake wrap its red and white body around Jungkook’s tatted sleeve. The man looked like the epitome of lust and sin.

“What’s his name?”

“Aengdu, but if you’re going to play with him can you not do it here? You’re一 distracting me.” FUCK. You had meant to say ‘You’re bothering me.’

Jungkook smirked as he put the snake back in its little habitat before snapping on the plastic lid. He held the box in the grasp of one of his massive veiny hands while he had the grapefruit in his other. “Okay, Y/N. I’ll leave you to it. Just let me know if you need any help.”

“Why would I need help?” you objected vehemently.

“You don’t have the exact layout of the townhouse down yet; you might need help finding a few things,” Jungkook spoke slowly as though he was explaining to a child, “How much longer do you have these men on the clock? Your husband is a strong man, Y/N.”

His biceps seemed to purposefully flex to further prove his point under the locked gaze of your eyes that kept waywardly finding their way back to attack Jungkook’s bare upper half with their heated glances.

“Go.”

Jungkook let out a chortle of laughter as he finally made his way out of the kitchen. Leaning against the wall of the hallway, still watching you flit about the room unpacking and putting things away, though you could no longer see him, he noted that there might have been some sense in what Jimin hyung had told him the other day. No one could resist a Jeon who was actively trying their hand at seduction. Jeon Y/N, yes you were still technically Jeon Y/N even if you vehemently objected it and claimed otherwise, had no idea what her husband had in store for her.

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ttttaehyungie · 4 years ago

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home; bday | kth x reader

home; bday | kim taehyung x reader

genre | CEO!taehyung, dad!taehyung, established relationship, fluff summary | Feelings of home can be found anywhere, he often tells himself. But there’s really only one home. rating | PG13 word count | 1.5k words warnings | none a/n | bcos our taehyungie deserves the softest, warmest, loveliest birthday ever 😌🌻

There’s many things that feel like home to Taehyung. The creases between rumpled sheets, the gentle warmth of the rays of the afternoon sun, even the way all hotel bathrooms seem to look the same till they all blend into a monolith of shiny mirrors and cool marble top counters.

Frequent travel was to be expected with his job, given his position as the CEO. It had taken some getting used to at first, but by now he's well adjusted to the hustle and bustle of airports and the flurry that accompanies cumulatively spending a good quarter of his year living out of a suitcase. The sights and smells and entirely different cultures packed into the numerous cities he’s had to visit no longer daunts him. Not when he began to find little things that always remained the same. Home could be found stashed away in little pockets of the universe, like in the consistent offering of scrambled eggs at hotel breakfast buffets all over the world. Comfort could always be found in even the tiniest of things.

But not today.

Today, the tie around his neck – a blue tie with the signature Gucci snake that he’s normally excited to wear – is mildly suffocating, the stiff collar of his button-down like the looming threat of a chokehold. Sat at the meeting room table as someone drones on, he stares through the immaculately spotless glass of the table to watch his feet as they tap anxiously in his glossy black dress shoes. Somewhere at the back of his mind, a little voice chides him for not paying attention. The presentation is for him after all. But the meeting has spilled fifteen minutes overtime now and it doesn’t seem to be coming to an end any time soon.

Normally, he doesn’t mind. Normally, he recognizes the amount of time and labour that goes into each presentation, and would love to honour that by giving his employees his fullest attention. Normally, he’s anticipating hearing the innovative ideas that they’ve curated for him, more than eager to discuss them and offer his own insights.

But this isn’t a normal day. On a normal day, he wouldn’t have scheduled a midday flight on the day of an important meeting, wouldn’t be checking for the time every two minutes, and most definitely would not do what he’s about to do.

Raising a hand, his velvety baritone cuts across the presenter’s rushed monologue, “I’m really sorry. I know it’s really rude of me to do this, but is it possible for us to wrap this up in the next five minutes?”

“Ah,” the presenter stutters, fiddling with the cuffs of his pressed shirt nervously, “I, um, I have one more component to share on. Just one, and it’s the crucial centrepiece to this idea.”

“Will you be able to cover it in five minutes?” Taehyung asks, skimming through the printout of the deck he’d been given at the start of the meeting.

“Ah, um, no, but-”

Taehyung nods, and returns his gaze to the presenter, all fidgety from being caught off-guard. In his periphery, he watches as a figure saunters down the corridor towards the glass door of their meeting room, the unhurried yet purposeful footsteps so distinctly Stella. Perfect. Right on cue as she always is.

Three knocks sound on the door quietly but confidently. The door swings open and the executive assistant pops her head in, winged eyeliner and red lipstick flawless. “Sorry to interrupt,” she says, addressing the room. Then, she turns to him. “Mr. Kim, your flight timing is steadily approaching and you need to leave very soon. Would you like me to call the driver now?”

“Dependable as ever, Stella,” he says with a smile. “That would be most ideal. This meeting will conclude in three minutes, yes?”

His question is met with docile nods and murmurs of agreement. No one can fight the CEO’s word after all, no matter how benevolent and understanding he normally is.

“Alright, thank you everyone for your time and your effort,” he says, gathering his handouts and slotting the folder into the sleek leather of his hand-carry. He stands, dusting himself off and collecting his belongings. “Not just for this morning’s meeting, but for all that went into the preparation for it as well. I know that we weren’t able to complete our agenda for today, but I will look over the deck in my own time and we can take this conversation online over the next few days.”

From there, it’s a mad rush to the car, hastily swapping his blazer and tie for a plaid trench coat and scarf to combat the winter chill. Stella aids in rolling his luggage across the polished floors of the office, the sharp clacking of her stilettos accenting against the steady thrum of the luggage wheels.

When the luggage’s hauled into the boot of the car, and Taehyung’s strapped in, ready to leave, Stella pauses with a hand on the open door.

“Have a safe flight home, Mr. Kim,” she says, then flashes a tiny smile. “And happy birthday.”

Taehyung laughs. Of course Stella would know. No detail is too small that it would escape her eagle-eyed attention.

“Thank you, Stella.”

“Ok, now go before you miss your plane.”

The car zips off and carries him closer to the only thing that’s been on his mind all day.

It’s a one hour ride to the airport and then a flurry of check-ins and security clearances and then it’s the bit that he hates the most – waiting. The emptiness in waiting – for boarding to begin, for the plane to take off, for the flight to end and the plane to land and the worst by far is waiting in line for the passengers to clear out – it’s agonizing to him. Nothing, not even the clogged ears from the altitude changes, can compare to this awful feeling of having to rush to wait and wait to rush. Especially when it’s compounded with the building anticipation that accompanies the closing of the distance between him and what he really wants.

And so when the cab finally pulls up on the street he loves the most out of all the thousands of streets his work has taken him to see, his heart leaps and he can’t help the grin that spread across his face. The white orbs of the streetlamps cast the shoveled snow on the sidewalk into a luminescent glow amidst the nighttime darkness. Climbing the steps to the front door carefully – how anticlimactic would it be if he were to slip and fall here after the long journey he’s taken to finally now be at the cusp of arriving at his destination – he unlocks the door and crosses the threshold, his footsteps slow and heavy and breaking the sleepy silence that’s blanketed itself like the snow atop the roof of the house.

Shrugging off his winter wear, he hears light footsteps pad their way towards him.

“Daddy?” a sleep-addled and tiny voice calls out.

“It’s me,” he replies softly. “Daddy’s back.”

His daughter gasps and the little footsteps quicken as they run off, and he follows after his 4-year-old into the living room.

“Mummy, mummy,” he hears her sharp whispers. “Quick! Daddy’s home!”

“Wha-?” comes a sleepy voice.

Taehyung enters the living room, toasty and warm from the heater, to find his daughter attempting to shake you awake where you lie bundled up in blankets.

“____,” he murmurs, kneeling next to you. “I’m here.”

In an echo of your daughter’s earlier gasp – you truly were mother and daughter after all – you jolt upright and kick off your blankets. “No! No, no, no, we had something planned for you!”

Hurrying into the kitchen and flicking on the lights as you go, you dash to the fridge. Taehyung can’t help but notice the mixing bowl in the sink and the piping bags left abandoned on the island counter, conspicuous amongst the otherwise spotless kitchen. You weren’t normally this messy, but the unkempt state of both you and the kitchen pointed to some plans going awry. When he looks up to find you, you’re setting a cake on the table. It’s rustic looking, definitely home baked, and the icing is patchy in places. The words Happy Birthday Taehyung are scrawled shakily across the top, and the copious amounts of sprinkles is surely his daughter’s handiwork.

There’s a tug on his pant leg, and he looks down to find his four-year-old gazing up at him. “Do you like it?” she asks. “Mummy and I made it for you! But then we got tired and went to take a nap for too long.”

He holds back tears as he bends to pick her up into his arms. She squeals and squirms against him as he places kisses all over her forehead and little chubby cheeks. “Of course I do,” he says, moving over to wrap you up in a hug with his other arm, giving you a kiss of your own on the lips that he’s been missing for the past week. “I love everything you two do, whether it goes according to plan or not.”

You laugh, burrowing your head into him. “Welcome home,” you say, your warm breath puffing into his neck.

“Yeah,” he breathes, “I’m home.” And he really is, no longer scrounging for bits of it, but taking it in in its entirety.

#ficswithluv #bangtanhq #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #btsbookclub #bangtanfairygarden #btswritingcafe #btswritersguild #taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #taehyung fic #taehyung oneshot #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts fic #bts oneshot

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tipsydipsydo · 4 years ago

Text

Birthday Gift [M]

Pairing: octopus hybrid! Jimin x human! Reader x octopus hybrid! Seokjin

Gender of the Reader: female

Word Count: 1.2k

Rating: 18+

Genre: Smut/PwP

Warnings: Dirty Language + Dirty Talk; Sex Toys; Masturbation; Double Penetration; Anal play; Oral (f.); Exhibitionism + Voyeurism; slight Overstimulation; Strength-/Power-Play; Praising; Petnames; Orgasm Denial; Teasing; Edging; Tentacle-Play; Jimin has a tentacle tongue...

A/N: Finally it’s done! That’s my sweet and short Birthday-Gift for my dear friend @breadoffoxy and I hope you like it Baby~ I’m so sorry that it took me so long!! But I’ve finally written it and I really hope that I ruined you at least a little with it!

Status: unedited

[Links]:

▪BTS Smut Drabbles | My Writings

▪Blog Navigation

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

Within a single second your whole face, your ears and even your neck burns in the color of beet red and you have some struggles to gulp properly. Quickly you turn the package around and put the ripped wrapper over it, looking around in your silent and empty apartment. Even though you alone at home and Jimin is already at work... you’re panicking that someone would see you with such an obscene object, too embarrassed to even look at it. You literally expected everything... just not that. Not such a gift with such a comment in the card he wrote.

Today is your birthday and you was more than exited to know what your Boyfriend Jimin got you for your first shared birthday, especially after he teased you for weeks with subtle hints. The little comments he dropped here and there made you with every new day more curious but you couldn’t connect the details with another. At the end of the day you didn’t knew anything new except the fact you’d die out of curiosity before your birthday arrive.

Now ‘the day’ of all days finally arrived and you are flustered beyond belief, in fact a little mortified somehow. Despite all of the shame you sense, there is arousal pooling between your legs. You can’t resist the urge to pull the damaged wrapper away and to look at your gift once again. Almost automatically your front teeth are gnawing on your bottom lip and the slowly growing ball of lust makes itself noticeable in the pit of your stomach. Yeah, Jimin makes definitely sure you’ll enjoy yourself and keep your needs satisfied.

In front of you, on the surface of the table lays a new tentacle dildo which is still wrapped in the hygiene plastic bag. It’s a little bigger than the one you already own and has a slightly different coloring. Your boyfriend knows how much you love that toy, integrated it more than once in a play session and learned quickly how to use it to drive you completely insane. One time you quietly mentioned that you wish you’d have the money to purchase a second dildo of this type... you have a weak spot for double penetration and the unique texture of the toy made you almost addicted to it.

‘Happy birthday, my Darling!

I hope you enjoy your day off and that you like the first gift I’ve got you for your birthday~ ;)

I’d love to see you using the toy and his sibling when I come home from work... would you do that for me? It’s essential for the next presents I’ve organized for you.

Love, Jimin’

Oh god... you don’t even dare to imagine what Jimin have planned for you, it sounds so delicious yet so unholy and sinful. You have no Idea how you’ll survive the night after he gave you those instructions.

You’re so lost in your own pleasure that you didn’t even noticed that someone arrived and opened the front door, let alone that two figures are now standing in the door frame of the bedroom and watches you silently.

The suction base of the smaller dildo is attached to the flat plastic panel you’ve bought some time ago to be able to use this toy without hands in bed as well. The length of the tentacle dildo is completely buried in your cute ass, your stretched out rim gripping the girth firmly and hold the toy in place. It’s so deep in you that your ass cheeks almost reaches the plastic surface, your feet and your back on the wall are supporting your body weight.

Your birthday gift, the new and bigger tentacle, plunges into your tight pussy in a rapid pace and causes such beautiful and delicious squelching noises... so nasty and filthy. The big toy stretches you so wide open, up to the point that you are sure your pussyhole would gape if you’d take it out. Your arms are aching from the weight of the toy and the strength you have to put into the thrusts to make the friction really pleasurable. But all of this doesn’t stop you to pushes your own limits, this feeling of getting stuffed so fucking full with tentacle turns your brain to mush. You can’t think properly anymore, the only thought in your ruined brain is about cumming on these dildos so often until you pass out.

“Oh Babygirl... I see, you followed my instructions like I said. Hmm, such a good girl you are for me. I think you’ve earned a reward, don’t you?”

Jimin’s teasing voice and his chuckles let you snap out of your lost thoughts, your eyes widen at the sight of Seokjin besides him. The taller man leans with crossed arms against the opposite of the door frame and smiles devilishly at you. His eyes are dark and full of lust and the thin fabric of his chinos aren’t hiding anything of his hard and aching boner. He’s showing you in a shameless manner what your little unintentional show did to him.

“Sweetheart, you can’t imagine how happy I was the moment I found out about your tentacle dildo... there are a few things I was worried to tell you about. You need to know, Seokjin and I are a little different to... normal humans. We have special abilities and features... we both are octopus! Hybrids. Besides our normal human limbs we own four other octopus arms and if we want to, we can show them off. What about we show them to you and make you feel even better with them? I’ll only accept those silicone tentacles for foreplay and self-pleasure now, is that clear? Now, get off of those toys and let us make you cum until you can’t scream anymore...”

You’re only able to nod, trying to process all of this with your mouth agape but they even let you collect one single logical thought. Pulling the toys out of you and remove the panel completely, Seokjin takes the place behind you instead. Then you can already feel very realistic, slippery tentacles wrapping themself around your thighs, opening your legs even further and holding you with a tight grip in your place.

Jimin goes on his knees between your legs, eyes sparkling brightly in a color you’ve never seen before and his lips opens in a smirk. His tongue pokes out, only the form of the muscle reminds you of a human body part. The texture is completely different, has now a bumpy structure but looks kinda similar to Seokjin’s tentacles... slowly the certitude sinks in. It’s the fifth limb, one of Jimin’s tentacles.

“I know how much you love to have my tongue between your legs, you have such an insatiable oral fixation, don’t you? What about we combine these two things with each other, getting tongue-fucked by my tentacle... hm? Spread those swollen pussy lips for me and show me how your greedy, gaping hole clenches around nothing. Expose your pussy for me.”

These are the last words before Jimin drowned himself between your legs.

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venusiangguk · 4 years ago

Text

gold rush | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader

>>genre: pwp, smut, college au (kinda), established relationship

>>word count: 5k+

>>warnings: oral (m/f), fingering (f), phone sex, normal sex, explicit sex, slapping tits, slapping, crying, degrading, dirty talk, all the sex stuff, jks a lil mean and condescending but it’s very cool and sexy

>>notes: hello! this is my first post on here :) it’s part of a longer scenario i’m just seeing how it’s received before posting the full length version~~

>>summary: jk comes back from a weekend away and he wants to show you just how much he missed you.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

It’s a Saturday night and you’re laying in your boyfriends dorm room bed by yourself. You’re bored and alone because Jeongguk had an away tournament that was far enough to warrant a hotel for the weekend. Typically you would have tagged along like many of the students at your university, but you had had a test on Friday that you couldn’t miss. Which is why you found yourself wrapped in one of his t shirts, under his blanket scrolling absently through your phone not really paying attention to anything much, just going from app to app.

Due to the lack of anything better to do, you boredly slipped your hand under the waist band of your panties. Not particularly horny... just passing the time you would say. You casually ran your fingertips over your smooth lips before yanking your hand out, being struck with an idea. You quickly type a text to Jeongguk.

you :

i’m touching myself rn

Short sweet and to the point. You nibble on your lip as you see the typing bubble pop up not even 5 seconds after it says ‘delivered’.

koo 🥴:

pics ? 🥺

You roll your eyes. Two years of dating and that’s still how he responds.

you :

no way

wyd rn ??

koo 🥴:

why not

i’m at dinner w my team

jimin and tae say hi

-insert pic-

You smile at the pic your boyfriend took of his friends. You were pretty close to all of the team but more so Taehyung and Jimin, seeing as you and Jeongguk would go on double dates with the couple quite often.

you:

tell them i said hi and that they should kiss 😌

Immediately he responds.

koo 🥴:

they said only if u send me pics 😌

You laugh before snapping a selfie to send to him.

you:

you didn’t even ask them but ok 🙄

koo 🥴:

ur in my shirt while jerking off ?

😩 🤌 🏻

pics PLASE

PLEASE**

You giggle and you’re about to respond when you get a facetime call from him.

“You’re so impatient,” You scold. From the looks of it, he’s in a bathroom stall.

“And you’re so mean.” He pouts. “Lemme see ‘em.”

You think about being annoying and making him wait more, but he looks so handsome and hopeful that you just can’t bring yourself to tease much. You grab the bottom of his loose t shirt and pull it up and tuck it under your chin. The cool air of the room makes your nipples harden and you grab one of your tits in your free hand and squeeze and shake it gently. “These?” You ask sweetly.

His eyes are hooded and he subconsciously runs his tongue over his lips before biting the plump bottom one softly. He’s blushing when he says, “Mhmm, they’re so pretty. Will you lick them for me, baby?”

You groan. “You know I hate doing that.”

He swallows, and fusses with his hair for a second before his hand goes out of frame again. “I know it just- makes me so hard, I love watching you do it. You don’t have to though.”

You sigh and grip under your boob, and do your best to get your nipple to your mouth. They aren’t small but at the same time they aren’t the biggest so its kinda tough, but if you really try you can get it done. Once you swirl your tongue around your nipple, you hear a soft moan come from your phone speaker and you feel it go straight to your pussy. You suck on your nipple a little more before pulling off with a loud pop!

“Are you hard?” You ask, a slight shake to your voice as you get more and more turned on. He nods. “Are you touching?” He nods again. “Show me.”

He doesn’t hesitate. He pulls his sweater up and holds it between his teeth so you can see his toned stomach as well as the bulge in his pants. He runs his hand over it, toying with the tip some, making soft muffled noises fall from his lips. His stomach tenses a little bit.

You put your hand down your panties again, and tease a little at your clit. “You look so good, I wish you weren’t so far away...” You whine quietly.

Jeongguk groans and brings his face back into view. “I know, baby. I can’t even stay here with you to help or coach will get suspicious. We are supposed to be team bonding before the final game tomorrow.” He rolls his eyes. “I’ve got to will this boner away and go back out there.” He sounds like it pains him as much as it pains you to finish off alone.

“Take it out really quick, just for a second,” You say quickly before he goes.

He scowls playfully. “I really can’t stay, so just a little.”

You lick your lips and nod quickly, rubbing your fingers on your clit a little faster.

He gets the angle right and unbuttons his pants and pulls his hard cock out just enough for him to stroke up and down. He groans once he gets a hand around himself at the same time that you let out a high pitch moan.

Jeongguks cock is so pretty. It’s fat and plump and pink. Shiny at the tip where he’s already leaking. He always gets so wet for you, just like you get wet for him. His hand wrapped around himself is truly a sight. His long slender fingers moving up and down before the whole hand grips around his girth. He’s thick and long and the thought of him filling you up makes you whine and your pussy pulse.

“Are you touching yourself baby?” He whispers.

You nod. “Yes, yeah... please come home. Right now.”

He hums on a laugh. “Show me how wet that pretty pussy gets for me.”

You swirl your fingers around your wetness before bringing the glistening digits up into view of the camera. He groans and his head falls back before putting the camera back down to his cock to show you how fast he’s stroking.

“You get that wet for me even though I’m miles and miles away? How slutty baby... How do you taste hmm? Sweet like when I last tasted you just a couple of days ago?”

You’re just about to suck your fingers into your mouth for him when you hear a door open through your phone speaker.

“Kook? It’s time to stop jerking off and participate in the bonding activities, Captain .”

You can tell from the deep voice that it’s Taehyung that came to get him. You giggle quietly.

“Yeah yeah, I’m coming give me a minute.” He says through the bathroom stall. He sighs, and gives you a playful eye roll like he’s exasperated.

“Don’t cum while I’m here, and be thankful that it was me that came to get you and not coach. Bye y/n!” He says loudly.

“Bye Tae!” You squeak as you hear the door close.

Jeongguk groans, but smiles lazily at you. “Guess I gotta go.”

You hum. “Guess you do Captain.”

He laughs a little as he does his pants back up, tucking his now mostly soft cock away. “I love you. Cheer me on tomorrow. I’ll see you after, but I probably won’t get back to the dorms till late. Are you gonna be there still or are you going back to yours?”

“I’ll wait for you. Score a goal for me, and text me later. Love you.” You smooch at the screen and Jeongguk does the same before the call ends.

And with that you are once again left alone, but a lot more horny than before the talk. So you do what any sensible person would do.

You pull up the hub.

~~~

Jeongguk walks into his dorm room around 10 pm, and the first thing he sees is you, right where you were when you hung up the night before after your little facetime sesh. The only difference is that you’re wearing a different shirt, still his, and you have ice cream in your hand and your laptop set up on your lap a show playing in the background.

At the sound of the door opening your eyes find his and you quickly set your food down on his night stand, and fling the covers off your lap, paying no mind to the mac book that is now buried somewhere under his comforter, before squealing and flinging yourself into his arms.

He grabs you easily, bags dropping to the floor, hands under your butt to keep you hoisted. You wrap you legs around his tiny waist and smush your lips to his cheek and mumble a distorted, “I missed you.”

“Okay so kiss me about it,” He says back, eyes glinting and lips puckered.

You giggle, placing your hands on his cheeks, angling your head to slot your lips between his. He parts easily for you, and starts to walk you both back to his bed before he drops you where he found you. You bounce lightly and take a second to take him in.

He’s wearing oversized comfy clothes, grey sweats and a big white long sleeve shirt. His long hair is soft and shiny, falling over his pretty face delicately. He must have had a shower at the hotel after the game. He looks soft and oh so sweet. You just want to devour him. From the looks of the semi in his pants, he’s feeling the same way about you.

“Ah, already getting hard for me?” You coo, hand cupping him over his sweats. He pushes against your palm, unashamed. “You just got here baby.”

He shrugs looking down at you. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all weekend. I had to rub one out in the bathroom room last night as soon as we got back to the hotel. Tae and Jimin were right outside.”

You nuzzle into the material of his sweats feeling his cock quickly become fully erect as you mouth at it. His hand comes down to cup your cheek, run through your hair. “I watched porn after we got off the phone.”

“Did you?” He asks, shifting away for a second so he can pull his sweats down, leaving him in his briefs. You see a little wet patch where the tip is. You suck lightly over the material and he moans loud and clear for you. He sounds so much prettier in person, over the phone just doesn’t compare.

“Yeah, came so hard. Was thinking about you and me.”

“Fuck. Did you make a mess all over my sheets?”

You shake your head as you slowly pull the waist band of his briefs down his hard cock. Once it’s free it bounces in front of your face, flushed and begging for your mouth. You stroke lightly while saying, “No, but I did find something that I wanna try.” You flick your tongue under the head and the hand in your hair tightens and pushes slightly. You part your lips and let him in.

“Mmm, you can tell me all about it once I’m done with you. I can’t wait any longer baby. Swallow me,” He moans, both hands going to the back of your head and pulling you farther onto his cock. He jerks when he feels you swallow around the tip. “So fucking good.” He sighs.

You let him have his way, fucking your throat a little, although he’s much gentler than he usually is when he does it, and he does it for a much shorter time. He must be tired from the weekend, or he must have something else in mind for tonight.

“Lay back baby.” He says when he pulls out of your throat, crawling on the mattress. He finds your discarded laptop and places it under the bed out of the way. You both remove the rest of your clothes before you do as he says and he settles down between your legs.

You figure since he got hard literally on arrival, that he wouldn’t waste time with teasing, would get right to the good part. But no. He takes his sweet time kissing, licking and biting at your thighs, squeezing them roughly in his hands. He nuzzles into your skin flicking the lightest lick over you pussy lips before pulling back and blowing a little. You gasp and roll your hips, trying to get him closer to where you wanted, spreading your legs even farther apart, presenting yourself to him. But he’s having none of that.

“Stop fucking squirming,” He groans before you feel his grip tighten on your hips. But still he doesn’t go where you want him, so you fight against his hold.

“Stop teasing then,” you whine with a scowl.

He bites at your inner thigh. “Hush baby.”

You huff and hit your tiny fists on the bed, frustrated and fussy. “Make me.”

Jeongguk stills and you gulp. He glances up from between your thighs, and he quirks an eyebrow at you.

“What was that?” He asks, much too calmly.

“I said make me.” You whisper poutily.

He sighs and sits up. You get to whine for just a second before you’re yelping and squeezing your legs shut. He just smacked your pussy.

“Shut up.” He says. He doesn’t sound angry, very casual in fact. He rubs his hands over your legs, easing them back open. “Y’know y/n, I had a very long weekend. Travelled hours to play 4 games in two days. Travelled hours back.” He’s running his fingertips over your pussy lips, smearing around the slick you know is pouring out of you. You shiver. You love it when he gets like this. You love it every time your guys are together, but when he’s extremely one way or the other, extremely dominant or extremely submissive? It just makes your entire body burn and your pussy ache. “I even scored a goal for you in the final.” He glances at you, finally sneaking his finger between your folds, he grazes your clit and you shiver, legs spreading even more. “All I wanted to do was get home and take care of you... Make my girl feel good...” He’s rubbing circles around the little nub and your hips slowly start to rock into his touch, breathing heavy from the pleasure. His girl. Yes. You’re his girl. You tell him so.

“Really?” He asks. You nod. He hums. “That’s funny because all I see here is a brat .” He spits out, before another smack lands on your sensitive cunt.

You cry out, trying to close your legs again, but he holds them open. He settles between them again and says sternly, “Now be good. I’m going to do it how I want. Do you understand?” You whisper a tiny yes. He sighs like he’s relieved that you’re not going to be difficult and put up much of a fight, so he can finally do what he’s been wanting to for days. He pushes back on your thighs so your cunt it fully exposed to him, and he spits on it before rubbing his fingers around the sticky mess. Every time he rubs over your clit you twitch, but you’re trying to be good.

“So fucking messy baby. So gross.” He says sweetly as presses his tongue flat on your opening before licking all the way to your clit. He moans at the taste of you despite his words just a moment ago and your eyes roll back. He’s in a mean mood now. And you’re gushing for it. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty baby... because your little cunt is so nasty , just leaking all over the place. I’ve barely even touched her, and she’s dripping down to my sheets. How did you manage to keep them clean while I was gone hmm?” He doesn’t let you respond, quickly sucking your clit into his mouth suctioning it just a bit before flicking the tip of his tongue over it quickly.

“Ah, f-fuck-“ You gasp. You raise yourself onto your elbows so you can watch. He hums around your clit before he flicks his eyes to you. You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut before falling to your back again, not able to handle the gaze he gives you.

He pulls off and uses his fingers to open your lips and pull the hood back before making his tongue flat and licking slowly over your exposed clit.

“Oh my god- That’s- that feels so good baby,” You say between breaths. Your legs are starting to get a slight tremble to them but still, you pull them farther back, making yourself as open as you can for his tongue.

He hums and then smiles, biting at your clit gently, making you jolt. “Feels good baby?” He rubs his fingers all over your core again. You nod and he says, “Could have felt good before and not had spanks if you weren’t so fucking bad.” He swats your cunt again lightly, before sighing and kissing your clit sweetly. Your head is spinning from the switches in his mood but you love it. Love that you don’t know what to expect when he slides his fingers into you. He moans and rests his head on your inner thigh, watching as his fingers slip in and out of your heat. He looks like he’s in awe of your cunt, watching as it clenches and sucks his fingers in. He looks so lovely between your legs.

“Always so fucking tight, can’t wait to get my cock in here.” When he says ‘here’ he curls his fingers inside of you and your back arches off of the bed, and you moan his name loudly. “That’s it baby...” He whispers against your core before he starts to thrust his fingers into you, curling on the pull out. He adds his mouth and you start to shake. Your hands find his hair and you pull him closer, feel him lick and suck at your clit like its the best thing he’s ever tasted. He moans while he eats your pussy. And he has the nerve to call you nasty. He’s absolutely filthy.

“I- close-“ You choke out, relishing in the sloppy wet pleasure that his mouth and fingers are giving you.

He says ‘mhmm’ against your clit before pulling away to get out a quick, “Fuck. Yeah you are, cum for me.” and then he’s diving right back in, focusing on where you’re most sensitive, your clit and your g spot.

“There baby, yeah- fuck , don’t stop ,” You whine quietly as your body tenses. Your legs are shaking out of control, before the string in you snaps and you cry out. Your thighs close around his head and you grind your cunt into his face riding out your orgasm before it gets too much and your try to squirm away. But Jeongguk holds you there until you’re almost crying from the overstimulation.

You pull at his hair, begging him to stop, and finally, he does. He pulls away from your messy cunt, and lays himself on top of you before kissing you deep, wasting no time sticking his tongue in your mouth so you can taste yourself on him. You moan and twine your fingers through his long hair, arching your body to get as close to him as you can. You feel him start to rut his cock over your sensitive core, and gasp. He’s so hard, you can feel him throb against you. He pulls away and grips his cock at the base, lining it up with your pussy before sliding it up and down, teasing your clit even more, mixing his precum with his spit and your slick. He focuses his frenulum on your clit, and his hips twitch. His head rolls back, and his mouth opens in a silent moan. He pulls back and when he looks at you again, he looks wild. His eyes are dark with desire and his pupils are blown. His hands grip at your body like he can’t get enough of you. You’ll have pretty little bruise blossoms all over your body in the morning. Finally, the tip of his cock breaches your center.

You’re so hot, and tight, and so fucking wet around him, that Jeongguk can’t keep the moan that falls from his lips locked away as he pushes inside of you. He pushes all the way to the hilt, you can feel him flush against your clit. Your mouth falls open in pleasure, but your eyes never leave him, the first thrust always being your favorite. Finally getting filled up like you wanted. You can feel him in your belly, heat pooling there as he lets you adjust to his size. Sometimes he likes press his hand into your tummy while he fucks you. Says can feel his cock splitting you open. You watch the man above you part his lips and furrow his brows in pleasure while he does his best to not go too fast, tries not to thrust into you wildly like he so wants to.

He’s leaning over you, hands on the side of your head. You run your palms up his sides, whispering, “I’m good, you feel so good. Give it to me please.” You lean up and press a kiss to his collarbone.

He’s quick as he hikes your legs up and hooks them on his shoulders. He rests some of his weight on you, bending you in half as he starts moving his hips. He pulls out to just the tip before slamming back in with one swift motion. Your hands claw at his back, the angle he has you in allowing him to reach even deeper. Gasps are punched out of you as he starts to set his brutal, sharp pace, not forgetting how bad your were earlier. He’s going to make sure you feel every inch of him for days.

“Oh my god, fuck. That’s so fucking good, Jeongguk. Please fuck me,” Your moans are high pitched and close to sobs.

He leans back some and spreads your legs wide, hands on your ankles to keep them open and he looks down slowing his thrust to watch as he slides into your little cunt. Your pussy is swollen and pink around his cock. He can see your arousal shiny on the base of his cock. “Fuuuck,” He moans as he closes his eyes basking in the feel of you clenching tight around him. He’s slowly pulling his cock from you, only for you pussy to pull him right back in. “This pussy was made to take my cock, huh?” He says speeding up. You nod and tell him, “Yes only your cock gets me this wet, this fucking hot.” He pumps his cock into you hard enough for you to get jostled, so your words come out in choppy and incoherent moans.

The way he’s fucking you makes your tits bounce, perky and pretty. He growls and leans down to suck a nipple into his mouth. You arch into his touch, cute little mewls falling from your lips as his tongue flicks over the small bud. You brush his long hair out of his eyes, holding him to your tit as he makes goosebumps rise to your skin.

“That feels so nice baby,” You say. It’s quiet and desperate, you head thrown back, neck extended and bared to him.

His eyes flick up to look at you, still playing with your nipples. He sees you bared in submission and can’t help the hand that rubs up your torso all the way to your neck. Just begging to have a hand around it. He pulls off your your tit, letting one of your legs fall to around his waist and you moan loud and long as the picks up his pace again.

Your favorite position. He knows how to fuck you any and every way, but like this he fucks you just right, making you fall apart in no time at all. The hand around your throat tightens at the sides, making the moans and whines that come out of your mouth high pitched and airy. The lack of blood flow to your brain makes you feel lightheaded and fuzzy, almost euphoric as he fucks you into submission. His free hand smacks your tits lightly, and you clench from the dull pain as they jiggle. Jeongguk swears.

“God your pussy is just milking my cock, not even letting me pull out all the way. Such a greedy , selfish little cunt. Can’t get enough of this cock filling her up.” He grips your hips with both hands and watches your pussy swallow his cock.

You giggle, soft and delirious as you feel the first signs of your orgasm pool in the pit of your belly, right where Jeongguk’s cock is pounding into you.

“You think that’s funny?” He questions. He grips your jaw and makes you look at him. Your cheeks are smushed and your eyes water from the hold he has on you. “You think being a selfish, greedy little slut is funny?” He presses against the side of your face, biting at your cheek like he just needs to sink his teeth into something to let out some of the pent of feelings coursing through his veins.

“I just love it. Love your cock so much,” You whimper.

Jeongguk pulls back so he can look into your eyes again. He looks at you mockingly. “You love it?” His voice is condescending and it makes your pussy drip. “You fucking love it?” He looks crazed as his hips jackhammer into your cunt, the slaps of his skin meeting yours ringing loud and clear throughout the dorm. Bless his poor neighbors.

“Yes, yes I fucking love it,” God you’re going to cum.

He feels how close you are, sees the way your legs are trembling. He’s moaning when he says, “Shit baby, show me how much you love it. Show me, make that little pussy cream all over my fat cock.”

You nod helplessly as your body jerks in his hold. You can feel your pussy contract over his cock as he brings you the precipice of your pleasure. Tears fall from your eyes from how overwhelmingly good it feels.

Jeongguk fucks into you a few more times, the last of your orgasm leaving your body, as you listen to the higher pitched moans falling from his lips at a faster rate than before. He gasps as he pulls out and positions himself over your heaving chest, cock right in your face as he fists it fast.

“Fuck, open you mouth,” He says, voice dripping with pleasure. You do, smiling, tongue out. He groans deep before his hips jerk and he whispers, “I’m gonna cum,” with heavy lust filled eyes. You feel the first shot of cum land on your cheek.

“Mmm yeah, cum all over my face,” You hum, blissed out.

He milks every last drop of his load out, and you suckle on the tip until he’s whining and shivering, pulling back with an overwhelmed, overly sensitive gasp.

He catches his breath for a second before he gets up and makes his way to bathroom. He sees you about to wipe the cum off your face and says, “Wait a sec.”

You sit patiently, criss cross apple sauce, cum on your face, eyes red and wet from the tears you shed, until he comes back with a wet wash cloth in one hand. He makes a stop at his bags on the floor and fishes his phone out.

He sets the wash cloth on the night stand next to your forgotten, melted ice cream and pulls up the camera.

“Smile baby,” He says, softly giggling.

You do, big and radiant, throwing up a little finger heart. You hear the shutter a few times before his phone takes the place of the wash cloth on the night stand. You reach for it to clean yourself, but he pulls away, wanting to do it himself.

You smile as he concentrates and gently cleans up his mess from your face. His tongue peaks out of his lips and you peck him. He stills before scowling with a small smile, and continuing.

“You look so pretty when you have my nut all over you face,” He says absently. His thumb brushes under you eye. “When you cry too.” He cups your jaw and runs his thumb over your cheek bone. “I wasn’t too mean was I? Too rough?” His eyes search yours. You shake your head.

“No I like it when you get like that, ‘s sexy,” You say wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him so that you both are laying down. You wrap around him like a koala. He yawns and settles in your hold, snuggling into the bed.

“Okay good. You can be mean next time,” He sounds sleepy.

You scoff, knowing that you both know that when you take control it’s in a softer way. Degrading and being mean was his thing, what you liked. Jeongguk liked to be praised.

“Yeah okay,” You say sarcastically. “You’d cry in a non sexy way if I was even half as mean to you as you are to me,” You scratch at his scalp and he purrs.

“I’m sensitive,” He whines. Another yawn. “And sleepy. Shhhh.”

“Jeongguk wait,” You say.

“Hmm?” He says already close to knocking out.

“I wanna eat your ass next time.”

“Mhmm, okay. Now sleep please. Turn off the lamp.” He turns over, wanting to be the little spoon.

You know he didn’t actually listen to what you said, but that would not stop you from holding the ‘yes’ he gave you over his head in the morning when he’s more coherent. You flick off the lamp, and throw an arm over his waist. He snuggles back into you, fitting his body against yours. You kiss his shoulder and say, “Okay, remember that you said yes in the morning.”

All you get in response is a soft snore.

-------------------

and there it is! let me know if u want me to finish and post the whole thing! comments and feedback are appreciated!

part 2 here!

part 3 here!

3K notes · View notes

bangtanfancamp · 4 years ago

Text

Champagne Silk | KNJ

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⋅summary: Almost year ago, you became the arranged bride of the most powerful man in the city, Kim Namjoon, but this morning, with you, he’s just a man who’s head over heels for you who can’t help getting lost thinking about his future with you.

Alternatively: no matter how powerful a man Namjoon is, he is still a klutz in the kitchen. A sexy klutz though.

⋅ author’s masterlist

⋅part two of the Silk series ( read part 1 here)

⋅also the second installment of breakfast with bangtan series (masterlist here)

⋅pairing: mafia!namjoon x reader

⋅genre: mafia! au, arranged marriage! Au, smut, fluff, angst, established relationship

⋅word count: 15.5k words

⋅rating: mature

⋅warnings: a generous amount of consensual sexual activities 🙃, brief scene of oral sex, impregnation kink, a shared bath tub, multiple instances of christiana being uncomfortable with using proper technical names for genitalia and being intentionally ambiguous instead. (honestly it’s more tame and wholesome than you think but god, if these two aren’t hot for each other )

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“Damn it.”

The sound comes rumpled from the other side of the kitchen, like someone’s trying to keep it hidden. It’s so subdued and muttered that around anyone else, it might have been successfully hidden. But not right now. And certainly not with you. Because you know the distinct, adorable huff of your husband’s regret in an instant.

“You all right over there, darling?” There’s an innocence in your voice to hide your humor.

“Promise you won’t laugh if I tell you?”

“Oh, unfortunately I can do no such thing, my love. You’ll just have to brave the odds and tell me.”

Your smile is benevolent, but unyielding. You politely, pleasantly even, refuse to give him another option, and he knows it. It’s that simple. Even with his back to you, he knows the jig is up. As he hunches with heavy shoulders, he sighs and mutters something too low for you to pick up at first.

“Once more for the people in the back, yeah?” You tease.

“I said, I spilled wine on everything,” he exhales.

His voice is tinged in shades of caramel, rich with resignation, as he confesses, stepping aside so you can see the mess he’s made.

“Oh, Joon.”

A terribly bright fondness pulls your lips into a smile as your clumsy giant sheepishly ducks his head across the room. His once pristine white shirt, his linen pants and your white antique tablecloth are all freshly dip dyed in swirls of Pinot Grigio and rosé.

“I know. I know. You don’t have to say it.” His eyes flit down to the stack of too many wine glasses slotted between his large fingers that have spilled their bounty across every available fabric surface.

“You have no idea what I’m about to say,” you point out graciously.

Crossing the room, you tip up on your toes to press a tender kiss to the spots where his jolly dimples would show if he weren’t so flustered.

“MmmHmm. Sure I don’t.” He squints at you while you slip one glass at a time out of his grip and reach for a cloth.

“Precisely. You shouldn’t assume, Namjoon. You know what they say.” You smirk, wetting the cloth with water you know will be too frigid for him to stand in this half asleep state he’s in, but the stains have got to go.

“And what exactly do they say?” His large palms dip to rest on his hips as he braces for your commentary.

“Simply that assumptions only make an ass out of you and me so…”

His nose scrunches in distaste, even as he starts to laugh. “What a beastly phrase. I forget how much delicacy Americans have.”

“Oh heaps of it. More than they know what to do with, really.” You shrug as you wring out the cloth. “Positively genteel. Is that not why you chose to marry one?” You add with a wry smile.

Glancing down at the bands on your finger, you warm at the way they glisten in the bits of lazy Sunday light filtering through the window. Namjoon’s glints golden across the room as he waits for your rescue. Both still new enough to feel like a novelty. Enough to make a small light inside you beam with pride whenever you catch sight of it.

“I chose to marry the only one I could find who was quick enough to get the stains I make out before they set and sweet enough not to give me grief for it.” He arches an eyebrow down at you in challenge as you slip one hand past the deeply undone row of buttons on his shirt to pull the fabric up and away from his skin as you begin to gently blot at the wine.

“Oh no. Well, I hate to inform you of this, but unfortunately, I’m actually 0 for 2 in those qualifications. But I will sincerely try my best since you’ve placed so much trust in me.” You chuckle as you set to work. “Would it be helpful if I mention what a smart wife you have to have ixnayed buying that cabernet sauvignon you wanted so badly, especially given your current predicament?”

Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to your forehead before dipping to press his nose against your own while shaking his head.

“No. Not in the slightest.”

“See? That’s good to know. Would have been awful if I mentioned the Merlot I put back too then. Can you imagine? Could have been so unseamly.”

He laughs, smiling against your hairline. “Well, what would have been the point of whisking my bride all the way out to a little villa in wine country and inviting guests only to not serve them red wine?”

“The point would have been you not turning into the kool-aid man whenever said wine inevitably spilled all over you. Case in point.” You look up at him through wide, fluttered lashes as you press the icy cold cloth against a particularly bold splatter on his chest. The frigid water grazes his nipple through his thin shirt and your giant of a man winces like he was wounded on the playground.

“Hey, that’s freezing.” He moves to swat your hand away.

“Would you rather just take this off then? So I can work properly,” You smirk.

“No,” he sighs. “That would just be colder.”

He looks so adorable right now. The lavender locks you’d once loved so well have been replaced, faded into a dusty blonde instead. His thick hair, usually coiffed so neatly, so perfectly, is currently disheveled entirely. Bits that had been gently curated to frame his face the night before are now plastered to his forehead, others shooting off at odd angles, all from falling asleep on the couch beside you once your dinner guests finally left late last night.

He’s still in last night's now stained and rumpled clothes, still looking absolutely divine with the sleeves cuffed against his elegant forearms and his now wide open neckline thanks to the buttons undone all the way down past his rib cage.

His body is every bit a grown man, but his sleepy features- those wide eyes and pouted lips- make him look every bit the little boy you saw once in his mothers photo albums the week of the wedding. Big Namjoon still makes the same faces when he makes a mess as little Namjoon, and it makes your heart squeeze in your chest.

“Don’t be such a weenie,” you tease.

“Careful who you tease, woman. You’re the only one in this city who forgets how many people are afraid of me.”

“This city is half a day’s drive away. There’s no one to fear you here,Joonie. Besides, your enemies have clearly never seen how quickly you’d fall in a battle against the cold or else you would have been displaced ages ago,” you tease with a twinkle in your eyes as he narrows his at you.

“I don’t think you’d like ice water on your breasts first thing in the morning either.” He huffs under his breath.

“You never know til you try,” you wink.

“Would you like to try?” His eyes rake over you salaciously despite the tenderness in his smile.

“No, I can’t say that I do,” you chuckle, pushing a palm against his chest. “Besides, it’s hardly first thing in the morning, Joon. It’s almost noon.” You nod toward the clock.

There’s still sleep in his voice when he laughs, the sounds rich and resonant where it blooms from his chest. “Well, it’s still morning for me when we didn’t fall asleep til well after 3 because our guests don’t know when to leave.”

You smile to yourself at the memory of time spent with your friends. Well, more accurately Namjoon’s friends, i.e. the members of his crew who have become like family to both of you. Namjoon’s been on the move so much with work lately that there’s been no time to simply sit and enjoy their company. You were in raptures when he suggested they join you for dinner last night.

“It was so good to see Hoseok and Jungkookie though. Their new girlfriends seem so sweet.”

Namjoon’s gaze seems far off somewhere as he listens to you.“They do, don’t they? JK’s seemed spunky too. She’s good for him.”

“I think so too. He spent half the night blushing- he was so happy. It was good to see him so over the moon for once, that little romantic.”

Namjoon smiles, a soft thing nestled in the pocket of his cheek, full of fondness for the youngest of his friends. “Yeah, I’m glad he finally found someone so good for him.”

Pulling you in, he kisses you gently, once, twice before pressing his lips to the top of your forehead, an unspoken “as good as you are for me” hidden his warm brown eyes.

“Big softie,” you whisper, reaching up to cradle his face, thumb brushing over his cheeks. He tips his face toward your palm to plant a kiss there too, his lips just brushing the inside of your wedding band as you smile.

“For you? Always.”

“For me? It was the food last night. God, That charcuterie board Jin brought was positively masterful.” The memory alone has your mouth watering. “Such a shame it was all gone so soon though.”

“Ooo, speaking of,” Namjoon slips out of your grip to rustle around in the kitchen behind you. “Not quite.”

“What did you do?” You narrow your eyes at him as you settle into a wooden chair to start tending to the swirling stains on the tablecloth.

“Oh, the best thing. Husband of the year level best thing.”

“Husband of the year? Can't wait to see this then. Very moderate expectations, indeed.”

With his back to you, you can’t see what he’s up to, but you can certainly hear it. Especially the low grunt when his hip snags on the new island counter. This poor man was clearly made for a different life than this old world kitchen provides. You wonder which will go first, your husband or the architectural detail. You chuckle to yourself until you realize exactly what it is he’s carrying.

“Kim Namjoon, is that-?”

“A mini stolen charcuterie board? You bet it is,” he winks your way, and a storm of winged things flutter in your stomach.

“How did you even-“

“When you had everyone gathered in the backyard, and Jimin tripped over the cord for the string lights.”

“I’ll never know how such a graceful man can cause such disasters. Or how you managed to befriend the only other man on earth as poised and clumsy as you all at once,” you chuckle, stealing a fig from the corner of the board as he peels back the plastic film covering it. “Oh my god, that’s so good.”

“Mmm Hmm. I knew you thought so,” he taps you on the nose lovingly. “You always ask Jin to make these for you, and then you’re always so sad when all twelve people you invite make it vanish in half an hour.”

“I know. I know. It would go farther if there were fewer people to share it with, but Joon, the boys are like family. I haven’t seen them all together in so long. I couldn’t bear to leave anyone out.”

There’s a twinkle glinting in his eyes as he smiles down at you. He’s glad to see how soft your heart somehow remains despite the life you both lead.

“Which is precisely why I took the liberty of stashing some of this bounty away while the guests were busy and saving it for you.”

When he smiles at you like that, all softened edges and warm brown eyes, it’s impossible not to fall in love with him all over again. It’s not like you’ve forgotten how kind he is or how striking he can be when he smiles. It’s simply that the more you see it, the more in love you become.

Rising up in your chair, you reach across the table to tenderly cradle his cheek.

“I hate to say this, because then you’ll know you were right, but this is really is an excellent submission for husband of the year. I would like to point out, though, that you are welcome to make as many entries as you’d like before the panel comes to a consensus, you know.”

He smiles so wide that his eyes get lost in their beautifully crinkled edges. “I’ll keep it in mind. Now, they do say that you should play toward the judge’s preferences. Would you happen to know any? To help me get that inside edge.”

“Now, now. I can’t help you cheat. You’ll have to conduct your own research.”

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely. We have a strict moral code. They’d ruin me if I let that sort of intel slip.” You tilt your chin up in defiance despite your smirk and laughing eyes.

“Hmm. We can’t have that, can we? Shame. I really thought this was going to be my year.”

“Do you really think the only way you’d win is to cheat? Come now...it can still be your year if you play your cards right.”

Your hand drifts up to his carelessly perfect hair, fingers gliding through it and tugging a bit near his scalp. One of his favorite ways to receive affection you’ve found out this past year. His lids fall heavy before he can catch them, a small hiss catching behind his teeth that means you’ve done it right.

“Careful. You don’t know what you might be starting.” His eyes wander the edges of your lips, trace the frame of your collarbone.

“I’d never take the risk if I wasn’t ready to face the consequences.” The twist of your lips is subtle, as gentle as the seduction you’ve learned is your forte.

Namjoon licks his lips, the lower one snagging in his teeth as his eyes drift over you. Without breaking his gaze, he takes a champagne grape from the board and lifts it to your lips. You can feel your pulse flutter and quicken beneath your skin. It always does when he eyes you like that.

The man might as well be a snake charmer for all the control you feel like you have over yourself right now as your mouth parts of its own accord for him. But just before the fruit can graze your lips, his grin widens- wicked with delight- as he decides to pop it in his own mouth instead.

His dimples are so deep as he laughs at your flustered state that you wish you could crawl inside them and hide.

“Ha Ha. Very funny, Joon. Tease the woman you claim to love. Excellent way to keep a happy wife.”

Rolling your eyes, you push off from the table, fully intent on doing... you have no idea what, exactly. All you know is that you need to get away from this table as fast as you can before you knock the carefully preserved remnants of this charcuterie board to the floor and take him on the table.

The blush that was rushing to your cheeks is now crashing in your ears and all you can think to do is “go,” but before you can get even half a step too far, Namjoon’s warm, impossibly large hand is already wrapping itself around your wrist and grounding you to your spot.

“All I want is a happy wife,” he laughs. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I thought I made that pretty clear from the first day.”

Slowly, he stands as his hand trails its way down to dance across your palm before lacing your fingers with his.

“Certainly doesn’t feel like it right now,” you pout, despite the excitement thrumming in your veins. You know that look on his face now. The one that’s evil and beautiful, sincere and serpentine. The one that wants to devour you playfully. To love you even as he ruins you.

“Oh no,” he tsks. “That won’t do.”

Suddenly, he snaps you to him, his hands fastening themselves to the dip in your waist. You gasp, the force making you brace against his smooth, exposed chest to catch yourself.

“It won’t?” Your voice comes out airy, too thin, as the morning breeze billows through the open windows.

“No. Not at all. So I wanna know: how can I fix this, baby?” His eyes are possessed by something wicked as one hand leaves your waist to trace a thumb over your parted mouth.

“I- I”

“Shh, I made this mistake. I’ll make it right.” He arches a single brow as his tongue wets his lips, and your brain loses any grip on rational thinking.

“And h-how do you plan to do that?” It’s a whisper- too breathy, too barely coherent. His hands are so warm. His touch is like lightning and suddenly even breathing requires too much energy with the way you feel like you’ve shorted out.

“I don’t know. You tell me, baby.” His knuckle tips it’s way under your chin, tilting your face up to his as you follow in obedience.

“But… I thought… I told you. The judge can’t help.” You swallow, lashes fluttering shut as his breath ghosts over your lips.

“Then she can’t get what she wants,” he challenges.

“Fair enough. That’s fair.” Your head bobbles in assent.

“So I’ll try this again,” his face dips down until his mouth rests just below your ear. “What do you want, baby?”

You feel lightheaded as you melt in hands, rushing out the words, “Counter. Now. Please.”

Your expression folds in on itself in satisfaction when Namjoon grips you around the waist and plants you on the kitchen island without a moment's hesitation. You gasp, airy and quick, before his palm is fitted against the curve of your throat with just the amount of pressure he’s learned that you like.

“Good girl. Open your legs for me, baby.”

A muffled inhale later, your knees have parted where you’re sat on the island and Namjoon is fitted between them, his hips to the counter as he kisses you in earnest.

“Oh my god,” you gasp as his tongue and open mouth work their way down your throat, painting wide open blossoms of scarlet and blush along the way. Your hands are in his hair, at his scalp, tugging and grabbing to bring him back to your kiss. His taste is tinged salty and sweet from your skin and the grapes, and your thighs wrap themselves tight around the narrow slope of him.

He’s gotten so broad since the wedding day. If you had trouble composing yourself around him then god only knows how you’ve survived the past year. His shoulders seem wider, his arms more substantial, his chest impossibly inviting as you claw at the last remaining buttons of his dress shirt.

“Off. Off. Take this off.” You push at the sleeves that bunch around the arcs of his newly swollen biceps, taking a moment to drink in how beautiful they are as you clutch at his golden skin.

“So eager now. What happened to my shy girl?” His voice is teasing, light, but his eyes look proud of you.

“You did things like this to her, and now she can’t get enough.” Your mouth fits itself to the beautiful stretch of bare skin beneath his ear, suckling the indescribable taste of him before traveling down his throat and across his jaw.

He laughs, something deep and melodic, before his fingers begin to glide over your collarbone and dance over your arms, featherlight, like he always does when he’s trying to rile you up.

“Should I get this out of our way then?” His fingers tug at the slim straps of your champagne blush dress. You’d worn it especially for him at last night’s party. You’d never forgotten his affinity for your skin draped in silk.

“Why? Don’t you like it?”

“Of course I do, baby. It’s perfect.”

“Then why do you want me to take it off?”

Your voice is sticky sweet with innocence, but Namjoon knows better. He doesn’t know where you got the wherewithal to tease him right now as he holds you pressed against his growing warmth, but when your eyes flick to his, he knows you’ve made the right choice. He likes it when you challenge him. It makes it more fun when he wins.

“So I can do this,” he grins with a flash of his teeth.

Without missing a beat, he’s slipped both straps clean off your shoulders, leaving the dress to pool around your hips, and scoops one of your soft breasts gently into his mouth. Your breath comes sharp, a stuttered, inhaled moan that tastes as sweet to him as the ripened figs on the tray. Deliciously priceless.

He still can’t get over you. He doesn’t think he ever could. He’s never reached a point where the sounds you make fail to set his world ablaze. He’d like nothing more than to make drawing them out of you every morning just like this his sole profession.

Reverently, his other hand brushes up your side to cradle your other breast beside it. God, they’re so soft. Namjoon is almost ashamed to admit how infatuated he is with your breasts. It would be embarrassing if you weren’t equally in love with receiving all the attention he gives them.

What can he say? He’s a simple man. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world to him and for him? They’re perfect. Even with all the exploration the two of you have shared this past year, he knows this part of your body has got to be his favorite- your skin there is so velvet smooth and supple, so delicately sensitive, so perfectly sized for him to devour to his heart's content.

As his tongue warms the tender skin of your nipple with affection, and his thumb steadily plays with the other, he feels the muscled grip of your thighs tighten against him. The sounds you make for him as you clutch at the edge of the granite might as well be a symphony. He loves you like this. Wild and coming undone at his touch and attention. No one in the world but you and him.

“J-joon, baby.. I-“

Looking up at you through heavy eyes, entirely impressed with himself, he smiles and flicks his tongue against you again. When the jolt makes you jump, he stands to his full height above you, and sets his hands back on your sides.

“What is it, baby? You have to tell me.”

Your brows crumple in softly as you look up at him through your lashes. If you could speak, you would, but the way he plays you like an instrument with no effort at all always seems to dispose of your grace.

“But Namjoon…” you’re trying and failing to catch your breath as both his thumbs come to lazily torment the soft swells of your chest.

“You know what you like. You know what you want. Just tell me.”

You’ve barely got enough breath to function as it is, let alone to form a sentence. “But baby, I can’t…”

“Then I’m afraid you can’t have it.” He tuts. “Not if you can’t ask.”

His grin is wicked, and as much you want to drown in it, something in you wants to wipe it off his pretty face.

“Not… fair…”

He runs his tongue over his teeth as he smiles.

“Really? Because to me, what’s not fair,” he grips your hips, snatching you forward that last little inch to sit snug against his hips, “is me giving you a prize you haven’t earned.”

His hands dip to cup the curve of your backside,

his fingers digging deep into the silk and softness he finds there as he continues.

“ What’s not fair is the way you teased me in this little dress last night when you knew there would be too many people around for me to enjoy it properly…”

Dipping down, his sumptuous lips brush your ear as he whispers, “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What seeing you in this dress all night did to me?”

As yet another lightheaded gasp leaves your lips, a dark, satisfied chuckle leaves his.

“H-how would I know?” your air comes in shaky as he has his way with you

“You know, baby girl. You always know.”

As his fingers dip firmly into the globes of your backside, he begins gently, just barely, rocking against you. No hurry. No fuss. Just maddening, slow pressure as he grazes you. When an airy moan comes whimpering from your lips, his strong hands tense, keeping your hips too fixed to succumb to moving with him.

“But you didn’t... say anything.”

Your eyes flutter closed as his face lowers toward yours. You can feel the brush of his lips ghosting over the edges of your cheek, his nose tracing against your skin.

“Don’t act like you couldn’t tell. You know silk always does me in.”

His fingers slip across your stomach where your dress has pooled to rest. They ghost like a whisper over your hips and down your legs until they reach the hem of your skirt. He fits his hands against your skin and drags them up achingly slowly, willing his touch to memorize the feel of your skin along the way as he pushes the fabric up inch by merciless inch- all while never stopping the insatiable way his lips move warm against yours.

His touch and his kiss are languid, unhurried, as he sets you on fire. When he reaches your thighs, his palms splay across them, his thumbs dragging along the inner swell of your legs as your vision begins to blur.

He’s taking his time. He’s teasing you and enjoying it. It’s evident in the way he slows down the higher he gets. The way his mouth begins to travel down your throat in kisses so soft, so divinely sweet, that you swear you’re growing lightheaded from the swelling rush of pleasure.

His thumbs have made their way to the folds of your hips, his hands hidden beneath the fabric as your body lights up electric at his touch. Like if it shines bright enough for him, he might bless it with all that you know he is capable of. But even though he knows you’re more than willing, your tease doesnt satiate your body or her cravings for him just yet.

Instead, he slows down further. He fits his hands on the outer edges of your hip while his kisses turn gentle, calming, resolving, as if he has no intention of following through further after riling you up like this.

“What are you— why are you stopping?” Your eyes flit between his, a subtle , whining irritation building up beside your impatience when he doesn’t move. He’s quiet at first, in no rush to answer. As his beautiful face hovers over you, he's so smug you almost want to slap him for toying with you like this.

But that won’t get you what you want. What you need. So Instead, you take one of his hands and press it to your breast as you guide the other toward the center of you.

He plays along at first, until his fingers are about to brush the part of you that’s positively tingling for his touch, and he abruptly pulls back, resting both of his hands on the countertop on either side of you.

“Ah, ah. That’s for when you use your words, my sweet.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, and suddenly, you’ve never been more greedy or more furious.

Snatching at his waistband, you pull his hips forward and slip your hand over the linen to hold him. His breath catches at the back of his throat, and his eyes go wide, dumbfounded at the shift in power.

“And I said, the judge can’t tell you the answers.”

You level him with a look of quiet confidence as your fingers slip between his skin and the linen to hold him where he wants you most. His brows tip into softened u’s as the coolness of your touch brushes against him.

“Husband of the year should know what I want by now. I shouldn't have to tell him.”

You grasp him, fingers running delicately up the underside of him at the same time that you lick into his mouth. You feel him dip a bit as his knees buckle, making his hands on the counter the only thing holding him up.

“Mother of god,” he mumbles, even as his hips move in compliance with your touch. “Where did you learn that?”

“From the best,” you beam. Your smile is genuine, sweet and blindingly bright. It makes him want to take a bite out of the apples of your cheek, so he does. A playful nip that has you giggling and him pressing his lips together in fondness.

The moment is sweet, until you catch his eyes with that same saccharine smile on your face, and take your hand away. His mouth opens, about to protest, until he watches you run your tongue in a long, slow stripe up your fingers before reaching back down behind his waistband to run the wet digits over his heated skin as you grasp him.

“Oh my… fuuuuck,” he exhales, his weight dropping to press into the counter. His face dips to lean against yours as he struggles to stay lucid. This feels so good, so out of nowhere, that his body is bursting to life more rapidly that he can keep up with.

With every movement you make, he moves with you, gasping through his open mouth with every touch as he tries to keep his composure. Leaning into your forehead, he feels his nose bumping against yours as he searches for air. He feels nearly lightheaded but god, you’re incredible. Your touch feels so good- he never wants you to stop.

Still, he wants control back though. To make you as much of a mewling mess as you’re currently making of him. He was enjoying the game you were both playing before, but he likes the feeling of winning more. However, just when he thinks he’s got a way to get the upper hand back, you ever so lightly twist your grip as you pump him, and suddenly, he can’t tell if he’s dying, ascending or blacking out.

It feels so good so fast that he can barely remember his own name, let alone stage a coup. Your fingertips gently play with the tip of him at the top of each swell in your fluid flourish, and suddenly he can’t think of anything else to do with all this bursting excess inside of him but to kiss you. So he does. Open mouthed. Sloppy. Full of want. It feels so incredible that you can’t help but laugh brightly into his mouth, ethereally elegant, even as you wreck him.

As you work, he can feel the way he’s growing harder with your attention, the way his blood feels like it’s singing the longer you touch him. His hips are obeying you like they belong to you, and at this point, he’s pretty sure they do. His mouth is painting your throat, adding swathes of crimson to the blooms he made before until your neck is colored with an entire bouquet of his affection.

When he closes his eyes, the light behind them sparkles with effervescence as he listens to the quickness of your breath as you work. The sounds, the moans, the gasps you make as you touch him mingle with sounds of early morning nature and Namjoon wonders if this was what the poets meant when they described paradise.

Pleasure is cresting over him in warm, molten waves now, and as it builds, he realizes he was wrong.

That as much as he loves your luminous eyes, your serene smile, the softness of your breasts, that those aren’t truly his favorite part of you if he’s honest. At least not right now. Not in moments like these. Because right now, with your hand wrapped around him, wrecking him with craving, that title is held by the treasure between your thighs; and as the blood rushes away from the rest of his body and swells where your hand lies, all he can think of, all he wants, is to bury himself in the wet, velvet warmth of you and never leave.

If he doesn’t get you naked with him inside you within the next three seconds, he thinks he might die.

So he does something about it.

“Open, baby. Open your legs for me,” he demands. It’s firm, commanding, but his eyes are so full of needy want that it’s hard to say who’s really in charge right now.

Pushing your hand away and placing it on his chest, Namjoon kicks down his linen trousers and slides up your dress as you obey. He springs out, the length of him pressing into the meat of your thigh. It has you whimpering before you can catch yourself.

“God, I knew you were a smart boy. You’d figure it out eventually,” your voice is teasing, but your face is so dizzy, so desperate for him, that he could give you the whole world if you asked.

“You ready for me, baby?” His eyes are half blown with lust, his lashes hanging heavy as he runs his fingers over your opening, before collapsing against your shoulder. “ Oh my god.”

“What is it, Joon?”

“Nothing. I just,” he chuckles once, “I don’t think I’ll ever get over how wet you get for me.”

With no hesitation, he slips two fingers inside you as your belly contracts. Gasping his name, you can’t help but cling to him as light shoots through your body at the incredibly welcome feeling of his hands there.

“Nam- Namjoon, ah!” Wrapping your hands around his shoulders, you can feel your nails dig into his sturdy flesh as he begins rocking you with a motion so good, so fluid you fear you may simply float away and never touch the ground again.

“Yes, baby? What is it?”

“You. I want you. Please.”

“You have me, baby.” His teeth are gritted in focus as he works you, his brow dipped low as he watches how easily you come undone with his attention. Warmth gushes over his fingers as he feels your walls contract in tandem with the tug of your hands in his hair. The sting is sharp and sublime as you grasp him tight with every part of you.

“Inside. Come inside. Need you. Now,” you plead. Your other hand trickles down his torso to the soft hair above his member before holding him firmly with a twist of your hand. He moans, hips canting into your delicate palm.

Namjoon doesn’t need to be told twice. Slipping his fingers out of the way, he scoops you safely to the edge of the island, one large hand stroking himself and guiding him to line up with your eager entrance.

The essence of you coats the tip of him without any effort, your body unfolding, so relaxed for him, as he easily begins to slip inside you. It’s so abundant that the slide is effortless, helping him bottom out almost immediately within you. Your head falls back in wonder as he does, your hands quickly planting against the cold counter to catch you.

Wow. God, Namjoon’s body always has a tendency to overwhelm you, no matter how many times you get caught up in each other like this. You still can’t get over that. Honestly, it would be impossible to when he’s built like he is.

He’s broad everywhere- that’s obvious to anyone. But here, he’s long and thick, with thighs like tree trunks powering each movement as he glides inside you. Any other time, you might have needed his help to adjust, for him to take his time to warm you up, but this morning? Your body is ready for him, and he knows it.

It’s unfolding itself for him like a bloom to the sun, and he’s reverent enough to return its worship. You’re so wet that he can feel it trickling down his hip as he pistons into you, and he regrets not dipping down to sample a taste of it before coming inside. But now that he’s here, there’s absolutely no way he’s leaving the warmth of your walls until you're both falling over and spent.

Your ankles are crossed behind him, pulling him as close as you can get him, and his face is pressed against your neck and collarbone as both your hips work in dizzy tandem. The sensation of it sends his consciousness swirling as the pressure in his abdomen builds.

He’s convinced now that you’re a real, actual goddess. There’s no way you could make him feel this divine if you weren’t. Your ambrosia coats his thickness, spilling over him as he thrusts harder, deeper, tilting his hips to curve against that spot inside you that—

“Oh! God! Joon,” you yelp. “Yes, don’t stop.”

His grin is infectious. You can feel it against your skin as you pull him tighter, rocking in time with him as your euphoria builds. Your laugh is bright, sparkling as he licks his fingers and slips them swirling over the sensitive burst between your legs. Your breath catches, his name and profanity tumbling from your lips in equal measure.

You’re not sure how much more of this you can take. Your senses are on overload, your vision darkening around the edges as the pleasure he paints across your body escalates rapidly. Somewhere far off, you can hear his voice. His mouth is near your ear, his breath cooling your skin that’s become sticky with sweat, but you can’t understand, can’t wrap your brain around what he’s saying…

Until you realize that even fully coherent, you’d still be lost because your forever intoxicating husband has slipped back into his native tongue. You love it when this happens. With his senses so thoroughly drowning in you, translating language just becomes too hard a thing to manage, so the harder and deeper he goes, the lower the bass in his voice becomes as he mumbles in korean against your ear.

You’ve learned enough to catch words like “beautiful” “perfect” and “God, I love you,” but the rest remain a mystery as he captures the innermost parts of your body for himself with swift, perfect strokes of his hips. The depth he’s reaching right now has you in raptures. It has your breath coming in short gasps as your breasts bounce buoyantly with each...incredible… thrust he delivers.

You won’t last much longer. You know it. And All you can think right now is how badly you want to look in his eyes when you come- which you know will happen any second now.

Between his touch, his voice, the indescribable way he moves his hips when he’s inside you, and the crescendo you feel from the spot he’s internally caressing right now, you know you’re only moments away from dissolving into the atmosphere, yet all you want is more of him.

“Joon, baby, I’m so close. Look at me. Please,” you move one of the hands supporting you to hold his face and bring it to yours.

God, that please of yours. It flows so naturally from your lips when he has his way with you. He doesn’t know how to describe what it unleashes in him, but he knows it never fails to wreck him. “Shh, let go, baby girl. I’m right here. I got you.”

Before he can think, he’s kissing you deeply, his tongue insatiable as he tastes you. He alternates between kissing you and pulling back to catch your eyes. The depth of affection in his gaze warms you brilliantly from the inside even as you swear you can practically feel his thrust against the underside of your lungs.

His once seamless rhythm has become all feel and nuance. All order is long lost as he makes his last powerful dives into the depths of you. You can feel it- the tightness in his body, the firm set in his jaw, the profound depth of his voice as he praises your body in Korean. If you were to die like this, caught up in Namjoon’s impeccably loving, gracious body, you wouldn’t have a single regret.

There’s nothing more you could ask for.

The glittering sensation pulsing through your body let’s you know it’s almost time to surrender, and you’re ready to come undone. Surely, there could be nothing more blissful than this— until Namjoon takes the hand he’s kept gripped around your waist and slips it up to your throat.

Your eyes go wide.

He really was paying attention. Husband of the year, indeed.

And just like that, the express trip to ecstasy nearly slams into your body. His eyes are locked on yours. He’s muttering a soft “good girl” and “that’s it, baby” as he works his powerful hips into you. He has one hand clamped firm and perfect below your jaw along your throat, and the other dancing elegantly along the bundle of nerves between your legs. He takes those fingers into his mouth to wet them, his face crumpling in a satisfied moan at the taste of you on his skin, before slipping them back where they belong.

It’s altogether too much and you are lit up sparkling as the combined sensation of it all builds with the warmth of his body against you, within you.

“Come for me, baby,” he says it clear and firm, his touch generous to help ease you over the edge.

“Only if you come with me,” you breathe. Your eyes meet his as you try to find something to hold on to as the tension in you crests.

He smiles then. All dimples and sweet eyes and perfect lips. He places a sweet kiss on your cheek beside your lips, and that’s all it takes to ruin you.

You feel your body contract around him in bliss as his name spills from your mouth. Making love to Namjoon has never felt commonplace, but there’s something about today. About him. About the sweetness of this morning in the middle of your perfect hidden home with him that makes you burst not only with pleasure, but with love.

As your orgasm washes over you, you feel illuminated from within like the sun is glowing out of your skin as your body melts against him.

“I love you,” you whisper. “You’re so perfect.”

As your body floats back down from wherever you just astral projected from bliss, you can feel that his body is just a breath away from tipping over the edge itself. He’s pulling back, pulling out, intending to spill himself elsewhere, but in that instant, you realize you don’t want that.

Your memory flashes back to your wedding day. To the moment those hideous people decided to squawk about your child-rearing, heir-producing duty just hours after your vows, and Namjoon had cut them off immediately at the jump and whispered,” don’t pay them any mind. That happens when you’re ready. Not a second before,” soft against your ear.

It was one of the first instances that made you realize what a good man he was. How willing he was to put your readiness, your comfort, before anyone or anything else. And now, as you take him in, as you remember how truly and deeply you love him, you realize you’re ready for there to be more.

You’ve had countless discussions with him about starting a family, and everytime, without missing a beat, his answer has always been, “whenever you’re ready, I’m ready.”

You've come to learn over this past year that he’s wanted nothing more than to become a dad since he was a small boy.

You’ve gotten to witness how fun, gentle and gracious he is with his nephews. With Jimin’s daughter, his sweet godchild. For a year, you’ve watched him be good and kind to any child he meets, patient with you, subdued as he hides the depth of his desire to be a father behind his dimpled smiles and suave redirection when you bring it up.

He’s been willing to wait for you. He never pushes. He never demands. And in this moment, as you study the face of the incredible man who’s welcomed you into his heart and his home, all you want is to begin the journey to give him what you know he will never ask for, even though it’s what the secret parts of his heart want the most.

“Namjoon,” you whisper,” don’t. It’s okay. You can finish inside me.” You caress his face lovingly as his eyes go wide.

“Really? But baby… I… what…” Your eternally eloquent man has gone slack jawed in his loss for words as his hips begin to still.

“It’s okay,” you nod. “I want you to. I want to feel you.” You kiss the dip of his dimple.

“Are you sure? i-“ he stumbles before you lovingly cut him off.

“I think it’s about time we start trying for our family, don’t you?” You whisper. Your fingers thread through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes as his face beams with light. His shoulders and chest are shaking with laughter as his eyes flit between yours and he smiles.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” His hands slip up to cradle your face, the most beautiful mixture of excitement and relief and the purest joy making his misty eyes look brilliant in the early light.

“Absolutely,” your voice is soft as you tip your nose against his. Your smile is all pearls and laughter as you reach to grab the full apples of his ass and push him into you.

He’s laughing and smiling and gasping when you do, before happily resuming the final few thrusts he would need to send himself over the edge.

“Use me, baby,” you whisper, eyes alight with the gentle seduction that always ruins him. “I want to feel you when you finish.”

Biting his lip, he swallows and nods, almost too eager, but you’re beautiful and warm and you’ve gotten so tight around him and he can’t help himself. He’s close. He’s already soo close. He’s spent nearly this whole morning trying to contain himself inside you despite the absolutely mind numbing feel of you, and here you are telling him to let go? It’s impossible that you’re real.

Pulling his face to you, he realizes you’re kissing him. Your honey sweet tongue has made a home in his mouth. Your soft breasts brush his chest with every thrust. Your hands are clutching his back and in his hair. Your heels pressed into the back of his legs to pull him close, and now he knows you want to carry his baby.

To allow your body to grow and change just to hold his seed, start his family and realize his dream of not only being a husband to you but a dad to your babies. He’s so in love with you. So maddeningly, ridiculously, stupidly, over the moon in love with you, and all at once, it’s happening.

His release is coming, strong and quick, and he can finally drown in the feeling of it happening while you surround him. His body is reeling at the burst of perfection he feels from losing himself in you like this. The cloud like swells of your thighs pressing around him might very well be the only thing holding him up.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I love you.” His face is buried in your neck, your chest, your hair, your cheeks- everything all at once- his full lips dropping kisses on your skin like stars falling from heaven.

When he pulls back to look at you, he can’t even put what he’s feeling into words. But it’s okay. Because you know. He can see it in your eyes.

Cradling his face, you smile up at him, eyes glossy and happy. “You ready?”

“To have a baby with you?” His voice falters as his smile grows so wide his eyes nearly disappear. “There isn’t anything I want more.”

Pressing his forehead to yours as he hugs your waist, you both press your noses together and laugh. Overcome with something almost too sweet to simply be called happiness. The word seems too small to encompass it all.

“Maybe I’m not husband of the year yet, cause I definitely didn’t see that coming.” He chuckles.

“Oh shut up. I know you felt how you made me finish. You’re just showing off at this point.”

“I can’t have my baby girl leave anyway but satisfied with me.” He winks, and you smack his chest lightly.

“I’d be mad at you for being so smug if you weren’t actually as great as you think you are,” you scrunch your nose at him as he laughs.

“Well, if there are any areas of improvement I can work on, let me know. I hear I'm about to have a lot of time to workshop your suggestions.” Namjoon lovingly nips at your collarbone, and you tingle in bliss at the thought of how many more moments like this lie in your near future.

“Duly noted. On that note then, I feel compelled to point out that what you just did counted as an excellent submission for husband of the year.”

“Oh really?” He licks his lips slowly as you nod.

“Remember- you can make as many entries as you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. Limitless,” you assent.

“Good to know. I’ll keep it mind,” he smirks, dipping down to lift the fullness of one of your breasts into his hand as he gently kisses the top of the swell of flesh. You sigh into his kiss. This is going to be a spectacular journey— you can already tell.

“Namjoon.”

“Hmm?” His eyes perk up, though his mouth never leaves its preoccupation with your bare chest.

“Is this… is this okay? I hope I didn’t spring this on you too soon or… I don’t know...too out of the blue? Because your comfort is important too, and I—“

You’re swiftly cut off by the sweet press of Namjoon’s delicious lips against yours. “Shh. Yes, I want this. More than anything.”

“So my timing wasn’t—“

“No. It was perfect. You’re perfect,” he kisses the tip of your nose as your lips bloom into a smile. “And if we are going to try to fill that cute belly of yours with a baby, then maybe… maybe this shouldn’t just be a weekend visit.”

Tipping your head to look at him, you feel your brows scrunch. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, this has always been our getaway spot. A place to stay safe and lie low when things get jumpy in the city. A place to take you when we want to be alone. Truly be alone. But if…” he hesitates, lacing your hand with his and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “If you’re going to be carrying my baby, I want to keep you safe. I promised you that the day I met you- I’d never let anything happen to you. It’s been risky enough to have you in the city all this time as it is.”

“So...what exactly are you suggesting, love?” You run your thumb lovingly over his knuckles.

“I’m proposing if you do get pregnant, we move you out here. Permanently. Or at least somewhat long term.”

“Wait…” you pull away, eyes clouding as you do. “Alone? Without you?”

“No. No. I didn’t word that right. I’d be here as much as i can, and I’d send the security detail to stay out here whenever I have to leave so—“

“Namjoon, I don’t want to be all the way out here by myself. Surely, that’s not necessary.”

He frowns as he tries to gather his thoughts. “This is coming out wrong...You wouldn’t be fully by yourself. I’d be here as much as I can. I just... want you protected. Safe. And out of the city while you're carrying something so precious.” The backs of his knuckles graze your stomach.

“But I don’t understand. Why—“

“I don��t want anyone to hurt you.” His voice has turned solemn, his eyes an odd shade of vulnerability when they meet yours.

“Joon, nobody’s gonna do anything. You’ve made that city so secure-nobody could hurt me even if they tried.”

Something stormy and troubled clouds his eyes.It makes you wonder if there are things he hasn’t told you. Things he’s kept to himself to ensure that your life is as peaceful as possible. You wonder what kind of darkness he’s had to swallow for your sake.

“But they have tried.”

It's news to you.

“What do you mean… when?”

“It’s happened a few times. Nothing ever got far enough to warrant bringing it up.”

“What on earth? Joon, why in the world wouldn’t you tell me that?”

He sighs once, from some deep place in his bones. “Because i never wanted to have to see the look in your eyes that I do right now.”

Suddenly, any anger you held vanishes all at once.

“Baby, why are you carrying something like that all by yourself?”

“So you don’t have to. I promised I’d keep you safe, and I meant it. That includes taking care of your peace of mind. Something you won’t have if you knew how many times someone’s shot off at the mouth about coming for you because they’re irate at me or how many times someone has done more than just talked and actually tried.”

It’s a sobering thought.

“Is that… is that the real reason why you never pushed for an heir?” For reasons you can’t explain, the idea makes you want to cry. Namjoon sees the shift immediately, his fingers ready to brush your tears before they even fall.

“Shhh, hey. No. I mean, it’s part of it. You know all I’ve ever wanted was to be a parent. When I married you, please know the idea of you being the mother of my children sent me over the moon, but I know this world. How people take what they want. Do what they want. I wanted better for you.” He runs his fingers soft over your cheek like you’re some spun glass artifact he needs to protect.

“I wanted to be better for you than the men in this world were going to give you. I promised myself that I was never going to demand anything from you. That’s why I didn’t push for an heir. I meant it when I said we go at your pace. Always.”

Sniffling, you look up at him through wet lashes.

“Joon, protecting me doesn’t mean you hide the truth from me.”

“Not even if it would hurt you? Scare you?”

“I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to marry you. It’s so kind of you to try to take these burdens so I don’t have to, but then who carries them for you? That’s my job. You have to let me do it.”

Closing his eyes, he exhales long and slow through his nose.

“You really mean it, don’t you? You really want to know.”

“Yes,” you nod, caressing his face. He looks troubled. You’d give anything to help take some of his cares away.

“Then you should know why we came to the villa this weekend.”

“So it wasn’t just for a getaway?” You brace yourself for whatever it is you’re about to hear.

“It is, and it isn’t. I guess I have to go back a bit for this to make any sense, but my family isn’t from here. You know that. Our roots don’t go back as many generations as yours do, so when the new kid on the block started gaining power in this city faster than anyone had seen before, there were a lot of families that weren’t happy about it.

Especially not when the daughter of one of the oldest families in the city became my bride. There had already been a lot of grumbling against me before I made such a powerful ally, and there were certainly plenty after. Anything we’d stumbled on over the last few months had been mostly hearsay, but…”

“What is it, Joon?” You're worried now. You can hear the way his voice sounds choked.

“There was a deal that went wrong a few weeks back. Just a skirmish with some lower level captains that got out of control, but I thought I’d put a pin in it. Turns out the other family involved hadn’t let it go like I thought …” he stops, eyes going cold as color drains from his face.

“Baby, it’s okay. You can tell me,” you reassure.

Closing his eyes, he licks his lips and takes a deep breath, his voice lower, raspier when he continues. “There was a hit put out on you this past week.

You’re shocked. “There— what?”

”It’s okay now. Jungkook caught intel on it soon enough that he crushed it before the people responsible could hurt you, but I've never seen anyone get this close. Y/n, I couldn't breathe when he told me. When I found out, I nearly lost my mind. I called you immediately to make sure you were safe— I couldn’t breathe til I heard your voice.”

You had no idea he’d been through that. You can’t imagine what you would have done if the roles were reversed, if you’d been seconds away from losing him. It would’ve shattered you. You’re not sure how he’s still standing.

“Once I knew you were okay, the first thing I could think was that I needed to get you out of town as fast as I possibly could. Something’s building in that city, y/n. The lower families are tired of their rank. They’re itching to get back any sort of power they can- it’s making them reckless. There’s rumors of a war building…I’d dismissed it so far. Didn’t think they were a real threat until they had the nerve to try something like this. We squashed it, but this was too close, and I’m not willing to risk you.”

Realization dawns across your face. “That’s why we left with less than an hour's notice. I’d thought you were just being romantic about a weekend getaway but ...That’s why we came to this safe house and not the one on the edge of town, isn’t it?”

His eyes fall away as he nods, “That’s why our security detail was thicker than usual.”

“But I've hardly seen anyone.”

“That’s on purpose. I didn’t want to scare you. Didn't want to draw attention to a whole parade leaving town so I had them follow us at a distance. They’re stationed all around the property and schooled to stay out of sight.”

“What about the boys? Was it safe to have them here this weekend with their wives? Their girlfriends? Didn’t we put them in danger?” Your rounded eyes betray the sudden guilt you feel for what you thought had been such a beautiful night.

“Shh, no. Hey, they’re fine. I had them all moved out to safe houses not too far from here with a security detail on them too. They’re just a few miles from here. That’s why I didn’t feel bad about them driving out last night- they didn’t have to go all the way back to the city, just to our guest houses and then their safe houses in the morning….I’m having them all lie low for a little while. Figured they’d want their girlfriends and wives as close to their side as I want mine. Thought having them over was a good distraction for a night.”

You had no idea. Something cold runs up your spine at the thought that this weekend, this beautifully perfect day could’ve been so different. Or perhaps not even happened at all.

Slipping your dress back into place, you cover yourself. It feels wrong to have this conversation half naked. Namjoon seems to sense it too as he pulls his pants back on. He offers to help ease you down from the counter, picking you up and placing you gently on the whitewashed floorboards, making sure you’re steady before he lets you go.

Under any other circumstances, you’d laugh at how he has to make you sure you’re stable enough not to keel over where you stand after blessing you with an orgasm so bright it makes your soul radiate around your body. Now though, you find your hand cradling your lower belly, feeling entirely naive for thinking now was the time to bless the world with Namjoon’s child. You should say something, but the words get stuck in your throat…. you feel like a fool.

“I’m gonna make us some coffee, yeah? You want a cup?” Namjoon offers softly. When you look up, he looks so worn out all of a sudden. Like he’s somehow aged years during the course of this conversation. Like he really does need a cup of coffee, if not something stronger.

“Sure, baby. I’ll take one.”

Nodding, he presses a kiss to your forehead before he plugs in the black gooseneck kettle you’d gotten him for his birthday. The gift had been simple, thoughtful, and if he was honest, it was the best present anyone had ever given him.

He practically survives on black coffee most days. At the beginning of your marriage, he was always long gone before you rose most mornings, so in an attempt to slow him down and have more time with him, you’d gotten him a pour over set and a gooseneck kettle to replace his old instant apparatus.

He wondered if you were aware of all the additional gifts it had given him along the way....It required time to steep and brew. Time he’d never given himself before he met you. The methodology of it soothed him, provided his mornings with a small structure and routine he’d never had in a lifestyle marked by so much chaos.

Taking the time to make his absolutely necessary coffee this way helped wake him up gently, slowed him down enough for you to have the time to slip out of bed and catch him before he was gone, to hold him while he prepared it. To remind him of the precious reason he needed to be careful while he was out that day.

As the water boils, he turns his back to you. He feels himself melt when your arms wind around him. Softly, you press a kiss between his shoulder blades before your touch slips away as quietly as it appeared. The subtle sounds of your footsteps fading as you walk away and the gentle buzzing of the kettle are all that fill the room in the silence between you.

Namjoon sighs as he turns, his arms crossed as he leans against the counter to watch you. Without a word, you silently procure a hearty loaf of fresh,crusty bread from the pantry and begin to slice it for breakfast. As your head tips down in concentration, he watches your untamed hair fall in your eyes. It’s beautiful the way it frames your face. It makes something squeeze in the center of his chest.

Crossing the room, he comes to stand beside you, lightly brushing your hair back into place for you with his hand. You still in your task, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch.

“Namjoon?”

“Yes, baby?”

“If it’s this dangerous…” your voice is barely above a whisper, “this unsafe… does that mean we shouldn’t have a baby?” When you look up at him, your eyes are starlit with tears. Your hands are trembling, and he hates to see you so sad.

“No. You’re ready, and I want a family,”’he soothes.

“But… but if there’s this much risk, how can our child ever have a normal life? Won’t we always be afraid for them all the time? Is that selfish? To make a life that has to live in this world just because we want them to?”

He brushes his fingers over the cascade of teardrops starting to fall from your eyes. “All parents have to worry about that, y/n. This world is still a scary place even outside my line of work.”

“I know. But they don’t have to worry about a hit on their child’s life or a ransom or generation’s old grudges putting their child at risk....They just have to worry about whether or not a child in their daughter’s class has a peanut allergy because little ashley will only eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches right now and nothing else.”

You’re talking with your hands as Namjoon gives you a smile that’s equally warm and sad. “That’s a really specific scenario.”

“I went through a phase in first grade, okay?”

He finds your eyes until you laugh before pulling you in tight against his chest. “First of all, that’s adorable. We’ll address that again later because little y/n sounds incredibly cute. And secondly,” he sighs,” you grew up in this world- the same as me- and we both survived. Having a child is expected of us, yes, but if that’s not what you want... it doesn’t have to happen. But, if we both want one… if being a mom will make you happy, then I’m going to find a way to give you that.” There’s a heaviness about him right now. An authority resigned to accept whatever fate weighs on your heart the most as he watches your eyes fill with questions.

“But won’t we be afraid for them all the time? I feel so naive for only thinking of how much I’d like to meet them, how much I’d love them just because they’re a part of you, when I should have known better.”

“That’s not naive. That’s beautiful. No matter what they’re like, we’ll love them. Because they’re ours.”

“What if they don’t want any part of this world? They should have a choice… but can I even give them one or will their only option be serving as the new head of the Kim family one day?” Your face looks stricken. “Did you get to choose?” Your watery eyes flit up to his.

He swallows, face stony as you survey him. “I did what I had to do so our life can look however we want it to,” he’s sighing again, worn out out by memories you may never see. “Look, you’re my wife, and I’m your husband. As far as I’m concerned, we’re the ones get to decide what’s right for us, y/n. I’ve told you that, and I meant it- that extends to our children too. Their lives don’t have to look like what anyone else wants but them. I don’t care if they want to be painters or accountants or captains in the family. They get to shape the life they want. That’s what I’ve worked so hard for.”

You feel your eyes flutter shut in relief on their own accord. Of course he’s already thought this through to this degree. When has your Namjoon ever done anything less? It soothes your mind to know he’s taken the time to lay the groundwork so you don’t have to. Still though, questions you’re ashamed didn't occur to you sooner rattle through your head and spill from your mouth.

“Do they have to spend their life in boarding school like I did? Are our only options to send them away or be scared for them every day?

“Y/n, no. We’ll find what works for our family. I want that with you- figuring that out and watching them grow. I’ll keep you both safe. However I have to. I promise you.” His thumb brushes over your ring as he holds your hand against his chest. “I promised you.”

And just like that, it hits you all over again- how much you love this man. How deeply you trust him with every fiber of your being. How you couldn’t have found a better man to love you if you’d tried. You two are it for each other- you’ve known it since the day you met him on the steps.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispers, kissing your knuckles,”... but, y/n?”

Your eyes flit up to meet his. “Yes, love ?”

“I meant what I said. If this is all too much, if this scares you, we can wait.” His brown eyes are so deep and sincere. You know every part of him means it, and it’s precisely because of that, that you say the words you do.

“No. I want this. All of this. With you. We’ll figure this out,” you nod, gently pulling the back of his neck down so your foreheads are touching. “I want to have a baby with you. I’m all in, if you are.”

You can feel the rush of tension that leaves his body. He wraps you in his arms, so close and secure, and something innocent comes from him that you don’t think you’ve ever heard.

“God, you know I am. Thank you.”

His voice is as robust and full as always, but his eyes… there’s something so young and soft and terrified in them. Like the weight of all he’s been carrying alone has crashed down on him all at once. “I’m so excited to have a baby with you if it happens. And it’s okay if it doesn’t. But I can’t wait to try.”

You’re nodding and crying, and you realize something that perhaps has never dawned on you before. This is the first time you’ve seen him truly this vulnerable. He’s always so strong, so composed. Too busy holding up an entire empire and caring for you to let his walls fully fall.

But as he buries his face in your neck, you suddenly feel dampness pooling against your skin and realize he’s crying. You wonder how you got here on a morning that had been so serene and full of bliss. Bliss you now realize has come at a price.

“I was so scared I'd lost you the day we came here.” Slipping your hand into his hair, the other soothes his back as he clings to you tighter. “I'm so glad you’re okay. You’re so smart. I know you are. You don’t make reckless mistakes when you’re out— you take good care of yourself— but I was so afraid. My heart dropped when Jungkook told me what he’d heard. He couldn’t calm me down until I heard your voice on the phone.”

Stroking his hair, you recall the phone call just a few days ago. How strangled and out of breath he’d sounded. How you’d asked if he was okay, and he’d simply said he was now.

“It’s okay. I’m right here. It’s okay.”

He takes a moment to collect himself, pressing you so close you may fuse together. It’s unguarded, and precious. Something you know both of you treasure as he nuzzles into your skin in that space along your neck where his face perfectly fits.

It’s as simple as that. You both stay like this for as long as you can, secure in his embrace, your breathing settling until it’s nearly in sync. It’s peaceful for you, cathartic for him. It’s a moment framed by a different kind of intimacy than the one you both shared in this very room less than an hour ago.

He shows no sign of letting you go until the kettle begins to howl for him from across the room. When he does, his fingers trace the silk fabric along your waist as his lips kiss your forehead. He takes one more heavy breath before he squeezes you in release to tend to the coffee.

“Cream and sugar?” He asks, his voice thicker than usual.

“Always,” you answer.

And so the morning resets itself.

The day shifts into afternoon. The sun drifting higher, brighter, casting the shadows and ridges of Namjoon’s sculpted body in almost Grecian relief as he carefully pours the water for both of you over the coffee grounds. You finish slicing the crackling bread loaf and bring it to the table to place it beside the remnants of Seokjin’s charcuterie board.

It’s only when you catch sight of your lacy table cloth that you remember the accident that started the whole morning to begin with. You’d both gotten so preoccupied with each other that you never made it any further than cleaning his shirt and not the rest of the disaster.

Smiling to yourself, you gently slide the cloth off the table and fill the sink with cold water to soak it. Looking over at your husband, you realize wine stains still swirl over the front of Namjoon’s linen pants. There’s a very good chance those are fully set now, but just in case, you might as well try to fix them.

So, gently, you hook a finger into his waistband and tug. “Let me have these.”

“Round two all ready? Greedy girl.” He winks, his voice soft as follows the drip of his Colombian roast.

“No, smart girl. We did a terrible job of getting you cleaned up.” You pop the p at the end of the word as you snap the elastic on his pants.

Looking a bit lost, Namjoon glances down to see the lovely pastel splashes of rosé running clean down the front of his pants. He’d been too busy to notice once you’d gotten him out of them. Blushing for no reason other than the embarrassment of you having to clean up his foibles, Namjoon dips down to remove the trousers, leaving himself looking statuesque and unreasonably gorgeous in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs in the afternoon light as he tends to the coffee.

You feel terribly immature over how quickly affected you are by the sight of him in his current predicament and carefully take the pants from him, only to turn abruptly in search of some fresh air and relief. Namjoon catches your equally flustered state, smiling to himself, but doesn’t acknowledge it out loud. This spell of quiet that’s settled over the room is too peaceful to break.

Once the coffee’s done, he brings both your cups to the broad heirloom table, and you enjoy breakfast… or, he supposes, brunch at this point...together in the stillness. Every bite you take is piled high with prosciutto and fig while Namjoon drizzles honey on his slices of bread.

It’s peaceful, idyllic. Tranquil enough to forget the world that awaits him back in the city.

It’s funny, the duality of his life. How easy it becomes in moments like these to lean into the simplicity of breakfast with his lover and ignore the undulating danger and uncertainty awaiting him in the rest of his world. It makes him realize how much he’s come to covet exchanges like this when he gets to feel like you’re just two people in love and nothing else.

As his eyes trace over you, he promises himself to do everything in his power to make sure your life with him is hallmarked by sweet pockets like these. As many of them as he can give you.

At some point Namjoon pushes up to get the carafe of orange juice from the fridge, and after assigning your more capable hands the job of opening the champagne, you both polish off your brunch with the tinkling clink of your toasting mimosa glasses.

Once your bellies are full and satiated, Namjoon looks up at you. His elbows are propped up on the table, chin contentedly resting in his hands. There’s a question hidden in the corner of his lips as his eyes glisten with mischief.

“So… what else do you have in mind for your agenda today, my bride?” He reaches across the table to grab your hand, kissing the back of your palm as you giggle and roll your eyes.

“Well if you must know... I'm thinking I might give my sister a call. See if she’d be willing to come pay me visit.” You offer, pushing one of the last grapes around the corner of the board, avoiding the way Namjoon’s eyes shine.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” you shrug nonchalantly. “Maybe she could come stay in one of the guest houses. Potentially. Once I move out here. Whenever that may be.”

“So my baby won’t be alone when I’m gone?” His dimples are popping in his cheeks as his smile spreads wide. It’s a brilliant idea to bring her out here with you until Namjoon can finesse a way to be by your side 24/7. He wonders why he didn’t think of it sooner. Probably because you’re as smart as you are beautiful.

“Neither of your babies.” You crinkle your nose as you smile back at him.

“I like the sound of that,” he’s beaming back at you, happy and light. His eyes are misty with emotion he can’t hide, and it only makes you love him more.

“Me too.”

“So, how would you feel about getting to work as soon as possible then?” His eyebrows bounce salaciously your way, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Is that what you want?”

“If it’s what you want. Always.” Namjoon licks his lips and a crackle of electricity shoots up your spine. The parallels to how this morning started are not lost on you. It makes something in you thrill with excitement.

“Well, I would love to take a bath. Our activity this morning was excellent, but I must say you left a bit of a sticky mess in your wake.”

“Sorry,” Namjoon ducks his head bashfully.

“So I’m going to break in that beautiful clawfoot tub and fill it to the brim with matcha bubble bath.”

“Mmm. With the orange blossom bath salts too?”

“Always,” you wink as Namjoon bites his lip.

“God, you always smell so good when you use that. It makes your skin so soft.” The thought of your skin fragrant and bare has his blood stirring again as his eyes rake over you.

“Well you are welcome to keep me company and read to me while I soak,” you offer nonchalantly as you walk away. You can feel his eyes on your hips as you round the corner, quickly followed by the sound of his bare feet against the floorboards.

“Or I could join you in the water.”

When he responds, his voice is closer than you expected it to be. He’s caught up to you so quickly with those long legs of his.

“Or you could finish the chapter of the book you were reading to me on the way up. You left me on such a cliffhanger when your hands got distracted on the drive. I’m dying to know what happens next.”

Biting his lip, that wicked gleam is back in his eyes at the memory of the drive up and the things the two of you got up to in the privacy of the tinted, shielded back seat.

“Fair enough, but I get to join after.” His hand is forceful where it slips across your waist. You tumble into him, wanting nothing more than to let him win and start this game all over again, but you had a feeling you were winning this round, and you like to win.

“I can promise you no such thing. We’ll just have to see how the day goes,” you shrug, dismissing him completely to climb the stairs.

As much as he enjoys the view, Namjoon loves the play for dominance more: it’s cute on you. Too bad he’s still got the upper hand. He catches you on the stairwell, turning you around to face him. His hand ghosts down the front of your silk draped stomach directly to the dip between your legs.

He places enough pressure to catch your sensitivity there, smiling something wicked at the sound of your sharp inhale. He already knows how delicate you are after you’ve already finished once until he warms your body up again. The prospect of starting this dance all over again has him stiffening with delight against your leg when he feels the familiar slip of your essence help the fabric glide beneath his touch.

“Oh baby girl, you have no idea how well this day is gonna go.” His voice has dipped to an octave reserved only for the devil as he smiles at you and lifts you off the stairs and into his arms.

You squeal at the suddenness of it, wrapping your arms securely around his neck so you don’t fall. He just chuckles, something throaty and dark, as he carries you up the stairs and down the hall to the sunlit bathroom.

Setting you on the counter, he turns to start the bath- scooping in bath salts, pouring your bubbles, raising the blinds so the room is flooded with light. He doesn’t want to miss a single look on your beautiful face when he has his way with you for a second time today.

Not once has it occurred to you to move from the spot where he put you. Instead, you sit perfectly still on the bathroom counter, feeling your nails dig into your palms, your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you watch him. Your pulse is already thrumming with anticipation all over again.

When he turns back to you, you can see clear evidence of his arousal reshaping itself beneath his black briefs, and suddenly, despite your meal, there’s something else entirely that you want in your mouth. He catches the hungry way your eyes follow him as he walks back to you.

“Can I help you, baby?” His laugh is warm, even if his eyes are sinister. It’s all you can do just to nod your head and slip your fingers forward to tug at his waistband. When it begins to fall, you slip down to the floor, catching him off guard entirely. Not in a million years did Namjoon didn't plan on this course of events, but he certainly isn't unhappy about it.

Namjoon leans back against the counter in the spot you’d just been sitting in as your hands grasp onto the muscular ridges of his toned legs. You set to work kissing his golden skin on his thighs slowly, indulgently, enjoying yourself as you go.

You’ve always been weak in the knees for his absurdly gorgeous legs. They’ve only gotten more toned in the last year just like the rest of him, and between his dimples, his arms, his chest, and his legs, it’s hard to know where to begin. Or it would be if there wasn’t something hard and beautiful staring you in the face.

Namjoon is in heaven watching this unfold from above. When you slip him into your mouth, he feels all his rational thought go dark. He’s helpless to do anything but cave in. God, the two of you are like rabbits, but honestly, how can you not be when you make him feel like this? He begins to lose himself in the soft rhythm you create, something lazy and hypnotic, that makes him feel weightless.

He can barely hold himself, but every second is worth it. All he can do is luxuriate in the way you take your time as you bless him. At least, that’s how he always thinks of it because it’s truly nothing short of divine.

He can’t tell if it’s been a few minutes or an eternity when all of a sudden, you’re abruptly letting him slip from your mouth with a pop and a sultry smile. The cool air rushing against him nearly startles him in the wake of the warmth he’d been cocooned in while your tongue did its incredible work. Because just as quickly as you started, you’re gone.

He realizes then that the floor is wet. Apparently, You’d both gotten so lost in each other that the water in the tub had spilled over its edges and he hadn’t even noticed. Also, at some point during all this, you must have slipped out of your dress, because you’re lowering yourself into the water now as bare as you were on your wedding night.

Namjoon swallows. His body is ramping with endorphins, and he’s so worked up it nearly hurts. As he makes his way to the tub, you stop him with a dainty hand against his lower stomach.

“Ah, ah. I asked you to read to me.”

Your eyes are coquettishly round as you bat them up at him. He’s tempted to scoff.

“Are you serious right now? Aren’t we in the middle of something?” His face is serious, focused as he eyes your breasts floating in the water amidst the matcha- scented bubbles.

You push back against his stomach again. “Yes, we were… in the middle of that last chapter. Book. Please.”

There it is again. The “please” he’s always been so enamored by. The “please” that’s usually the product of your need for him. The one he’s so infatuated with that he’d do anything to satisfy it. The one that, up until now, he’d thought you were unaware of, yet here you are using it against him.

That’s when he knows he’s trained you too well. There’s pride sparkling in your eyes as you look up at him, and he can’t believe it. Running a hand down his face, he shakes his head at you. What has he gotten himself into with you?

“ If that’s the way you want to play it, fine,” he squints at you with playful derision. “But I’m reading to you in the tub with you when I come back.”

“Oh please do,” you coo, batting your lashes at him.

Oh, you’re good.

Namjoon can’t help but laugh at himself as he walks to the bedroom to collect the book. When he met you a year ago- the blushing, soft spoken girl who was too nervous to meet his eyes- he definitely never would have thought that a year later you’d be sending him down the hallway fully naked and half hard to fetch your literature for you while you float in a bath. He wonders when he got so wrapped around your finger like this, but if he’s honest, he doesn’t mind.

You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

Being with you is the best his life has ever been. He’ll forever be grateful, that against all odds, you agreed to marry a man who was nearly a perfect stranger and create a life with him.

As he walks back to the bathroom, Namjoon catches a glimpse of your rosy smile flashing his way, peeking at him beyond the wall of bubbles. It fills his chest with something buoyant and light as he makes his way back to you.

There’s absolutely nowhere he’d rather be.

As he sinks down in the water behind you, more displaces, splashing out across the white wood beams and dousing your hair in the process. He apologizes profusely but instead of getting mad, you simply slip the rest of the way under the water to finish the job. When you resurface, you’re laughing so happily that your smile is the brightest thing in the room, putting even the afternoon sunlight to shame.

He pulls you to him, affection for you glowing warmly in his chest as you settle between his legs and look up at him. He kisses your forehead, his heart filled with contentment, before reaching forward to dry his hands on the closest available towel and thumbing through the book until he finds the page he marked.

The two of you stay that way until the chapter is finished and the book is closed. Until the bubbles all dissolve and the water’s gone cold. Even then, once the water is drained, you still stay wrapped in a tangle of Namjoon’s long limbs as you twist to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him.

Eventually he straightens out his legs to allow you to climb into his lap so he can find his way home again and slip inside you. Your bodies are swathed in the golden light illuminating the room as the two of you go effortlessly slow and unhurried, taking your time .

Namjoon sinks into you, lost in the beauty of you and your connection.

This time, your session together is marked in emotion and security.

He knows how much you want to start a family with him, and you know how special it was for him to let his walls down, to let you know how scared he was to lose you. Both of you are in awe of not only how attracted you are to each other, but also of the caliber of human you’re currently sharing your bodies with, of how transcendent love making can feel when your hearts and hopes are as interwoven in the act as they now are with all your cards on the table.

When Namjoon finishes this time, it’s in sync with you. It’s the first time that happened for the two of you in tandem. As your eyes search his, you're both aware that this shared state of bliss is nothing short of miraculous. As story-worthy as this act has always been between the two of, this time feels different. Markedly so.

Perhaps, it’s because you’ve both dropped your guards enough to fully let the other in, in a way you hadn’t uncovered before. If the crashing of his heartbeat has anything to say about it, Namjoon would probably guess that you've both sunken so deep into each other that it was impossible for the crescendo of your orgasms not to crest all at once for the both of you.

Once you’ve gathered yourself enough to speak, you watch Namjoon with dazed eyes, in awe that someone as incredible as him even exists, let alone that you get to call him yours. As he slips out of you, the warmth of his seed flows out between your thighs, and some ridiculous part of you can’t help but smile.

Namjoon catches it too, and leans forward to kiss you.

“You’re gonna be a great mom, you know that?”

Your eyes flash to meet his. Your body is spent, your emotions are big and at this point, your heart feels so filled to the brim with affection for him that you fear it won’t fit in your body anymore.

“They’re gonna be the luckiest kids in the world to have you for a dad,” you whisper with shining eyes as you touch his chest.

He dips his head, smiling so exorbitantly wide that it consumes his whole face, and all you can think is that you can’t wait to see that dimpled grin shining back at you from the face of a little boy or little girl down the road.

“By the way,” you begin as his gaze perks back up to meet yours. “You should know that we’ve tallied the votes for husband of the year.”

“Oh really?” His brows lift attentively. “Should I pack it up? Is it time to let the dream go? Surely it’s not going to a rookie this year.”

“You’d be surprised,” you tip your head. Taking his hands you place them so they’re cradling your chest. “On behalf of the board and the esteemed academy, it is my honor to present the award of husband of the year to you, Kim Namjoon.”

As he throws his head back, he bursts into a bright fit of laughter and mock cheering like you’re both surrounded by a make believe crowd.

“Oh my goodness,” he squeezes your breasts in his palm like the globes are irreplaceable awards. “I would just like to thank all the people around the world who supported me and believed me, who shined the light of their support on me even on days when this seemed bleak. We couldn’t have made it here without you guys. This award belongs to all of you.”

He waves to the imaginary audience he’s created before pressing your breasts together and happily burying his smiling face between them. He mumbles something you can’t understand that gets lost in the downy softness of your chest as you laugh at him.

“What are you even saying down there?”

“I’m thanking the people who got me here.” He eyes you soberly like that should be obvious before breaking character and cackling at how ridiculous this is. “I can’t believe we really kept this joke going all day.”

“I can’t believe I got in the tub to clean up the mess you left earlier only to now, once again, be sticky with dried up mess.” You look ruefully between your legs.

“Hey, hey, that mess may very well become your child.” He tuts as you grin and narrow your eyes at him.

“I don’t think that’s how this works.”

“Semantics,” he shrugs, kissing your nose. You can’t help your eye roll that follows. “Hey,” he breathes, eyes suddenly serious.

“Yes, love?”

“Please know, whatever happens, I’ll always love you, and I’ll always take care of you. Both of you, if we’re so lucky.” The tips of his fingers rest against your lower belly, and yep. You were right. Your heart bursts clean out of your chest. You can feel the way your eyes glisten, happiness spilling from them as you get lost in Namjoon’s smile.

“I know you will, Joon. I know you will.”

-fin.

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