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justimajin · 7 months

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House of the Haunted

Genre: Fluff & Comedy

↳ 3.5k / Supernatural AU (inspired from Hotel Transylvania)

[Includes: Vampire! Yoongi, Werewolf! Jungkook, Ghost! Namjoon, Demon! Jimin, Angel! Hoseok, Warlock! Taehyung, Faerie! Seokjin, Human! Reader]

Summary: It's Halloween and the Council of the Haunted have convened together for a very important and highly classified discussion - there's a *whispers* human on the premises.

A/N: I was originally going to post this for Halloween, but it unfortunately got a bit delayed. It's just meant to be a fun story for spooks and laughs. Happy (Belated) Halloween! 🎃

The front door creaks open.

The mansion is nothing short of grand, lined with expansive black marble floors and dark wooden walls. There are ebony crystals hanging down from the dimly lit chandelier, connected right above the old spiral staircase that’s decorated with small oil lamps. The wind ever so whistles against the grey murky windows, echoing through the emptiness of the haunting infrastructure.

Amongst the different doors next to the staircase, only one is brightly lit.

A tall man dressed in lavish purple robes shuffles forward, his eyes darting around. There’s a sudden change in the air, akin to a low draft he feels against his back that his keen senses pick up on right away.

“Taehyung.” A voice whispers into the night and he swivels, robes cascading around him as he does. “You came.”

His lips pull up into a cheeky smile, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The transparent man before him gyrates around, his feet floating an inch off the ground.

“Follow me.”

Taehyung obliges, trailing after him.

“You know, Seokjin will be very pleased to see you too.”

Taehyung deeply chuckles, fingertips absent-mindly playing with the mist that radiates out of them. “I’m sure he will be.”

He’s led into a large dining room, the very one that is brightly lit. In the middle of it sits a long outstretched table that’s entirely covered with a black tablecloth and with candlelight decor. There are seven wooden chairs lining the table and accompanying, seven golden chalices.

It’s a room he’s become very familiar with over the course of the last couple of months. Namely, ever since one fateful day when he was granted a hand-crafted invitation with intricate writing and symbols. At the time, he truthfully wasn’t quite sure to expect, or rather, who to expect.

His answer came without another thought and it took the form of an old, but peculiarly cheery Faerie man – the very one seated at the head of the table and examining a chalice before him.

“Warlock Kim Taehyung has arrived.” The voice booms into the room, making Seokjin look up.

The Faerie man rises to his feet, addressing the transparent man.

“Thank you, Namjoon.” He nods in confirmation, before wafting back into the breeze and exiting the room.

Seokjin spins around with a big grin, “Taehyung!”

“You haven’t changed a bit.” Taehyung remarks, giving the man a swift hug. “Though, your way of sending invites has gotten really interesting.”

He twirls his fingers and a piece of paper emerges, landing in his hands. He envelopes it, eyes focused on the written words. “A call for all supernatural beings to meet, for the Council of the Haunted to convene once more for urgent matters–”

Taehyung snickers, “You write like you’re a hundred years old already.”

“I was trying to be formal!” Seokjin protests, irises glimmering with specks of pink.

Taehyung raises a playful brow, “A Faerie trying to be courteous? Now that’s funny.”

Seokjin shakes his head with a sigh, “Sit down, will you? I’m going to have more guests to tend to.”

Taehyung non-chantently hums, eyeing the wine in the centre of the table with intrigue. The former Faerie hears more footsteps, and he hurriedly leaves the room altogether.

Making his way to the front door, Seokjin is met with the sight of Namjoon surrounded by others.

“Well, well, who do we have here?” He piques, mischievousness brimming in his voice.

Two men appear before him – contrasting like day and night.

One of them has swept violet hair and dark ebony wings sticking out from his back. A dark red beam within his orbs and there’s a soft smile lingering on his lips. The other has a mop of brown hair and a pair of white wings. He holds a deep scowl, arms crossed and his blue eyes stern.

“Demon Park Jimin and Angel Jung Hoseok have arrived.” Namjoon announces from behind, appearing a bit frazzled from the duo’s sudden appearance.

“The Council of the Haunted, huh?” Hoseok remarks, “You haven’t called us here in ages.”

Jimin peers around, “The decor is really nice, did you remodel the place?”

Seokjin merely laughs, immediately engulfing the two into a hug. “It’s been a while, you two!”

Hoseok grumbles and Jimin giggles. “Come on in! Taehyung’s already here.”

He steps to the side, gesturing the two men forward. They enter the grand dining room with Namjoon’s assistance, taking spots at opposite sides of the table.

Seokjin comes up behind Namjoon. “That makes three – who are we missing now?”

“The vampire and werewolf.” Namjoon utters, grimacing a bit. “I was informed today was a full moon.”

“Of course it is.” Seokjin sighs, glancing at his present guests. “We’ll have to wait a bit longer.”

Taehyung raises his chalice of wine with a grin. “M’kay with me.”

“Wait, I have to sit here longer?” Hoseok recoils, “With him?”

Jimin sweetly smiles. “How interesting. I share the same sentiments.”

The Faerie narrows his eyes, “Taehyung, that wine is supposed to be for everybody.” He turns to his ghostly friend, whispering underneath his breath. “Namjoon, can you make sure those two don’t cause a brawl on my dining table?”

He immediately nods, effortlessly floating over to the table. Seokjin turns around with a huff, planting his hands against his waist.

At this point, anyone who will arrive will be considered late. He should have considered this, knowing that some of his members simply had the tendency to be forgetful and–

“Greetings.”

His heart nearly jumps out of his chest at the low voice behind him, wide pink orbs coming into contact with a red-eyed man with midnight hair and long incisors sticking outside of his teeth.

“Oh gosh–” Seokjin presses a hand against his heart, attempting to calm himself. “It’s just you, Yoongi.” He huffs, “For a moment, you had me scared there.”

The vampire looks at him impassibly, “Sorry about that.”

Seokjin shakes it off, “Don’t worry about it.” He stares at him intently, tilting his head to the side in amusement. “I didn’t think you would come. What changed your mind?”

Yoongi seems to hesitate for a split-second, before mumbling the words.

“You said there would be others here….I was curious.”

The corners of Seokjin’s mouth upturn and he watches as the vampire silently trails over to the dining table, carefully taking a seat amongst the table. He was really interesting – that was for sure.

Suddenly, a howl breaks through and echoes into the walls of his home. He swivels around, just in time to catch the faintest blur of caramel brown fur.

There’s an enormous wolf launching itself against him, practically pouncing onto the poor defenceless Faerie man before he has the chance to say anything.

“Okay, okay, I get it!” He scolds, pushing him away. “Jungkook, get off of me!”

The caramel brown wolf whines loudly, as if in utter protest. Seokjin deeply sighs, petting his head rather awkwardly.

“There! You happy now?”

The wolf seems to let out a pleased howl, before its paw hits against the marbled floor. Within a couple of seconds, its bones begin to crack and a young man with crinkled golden eyes and a huge bunny smile stares back at him.

“Hi hyung!” He chuckles and Seokjin grins lop-sidley, “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Thanks for coming, JK.” Seokjin turns to Namjoon, leading Jungkook in. “Everyone’s here!”

Jungkook brightens up, “Namjoon! It’s so nice seeing you again.”

The ghost man stares back at him wide-eyed as Jungkook loudly cackles, throwing his head back. Seokjin ends up pushing at his shoulders to get him to sit down in one of the chairs.

“Haha, veryy original.” He sarcastically retorts, moving to take his seat at the head of the table. Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook get seated on his right side, while Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi remain on the other.

He ushers for everyone to raise their chalices.

Seokjin clears his voice. “We have all gathered here today for a very important matter to discuss.”

Jungkook raises his hand, “Have you finally decided to remodel the meeting room to look less worse?”

He scoffs, “No.”

“Are you considering taking a step down and letting someone with purer intentions take over?” Hoseok remarks.

Seokjin sighs, “No.”

“Is this about the time I accidentally turned one of your workers into a goblin?” Taehyung ponders.

“What? No.”

“Is this when I forgot to turn your goblin back into your worker?”

“Tae, no–”

“Is this when the goblin wrecked havoc on–”

“Okay, then!” Seokjin loudly coughs underneath his breath, a bright smile plastering on his features. There’s a sudden build up of pressure into the room, as if a hazy wave had crossed over everyone’s mind.

His irises tinge with pink and the room is taken aback with a command, all members in his group visibly relaxing more than before.

“This is so cool.” Jimin whispers, specks of pink dwindling in his own eyes.

“Stop trying to toy with us and get to the point.” Hoseok barks, shaking his head with a huff.

Seokjin grins wickedly, “Now that I finally do have your attention, there is something urgent to discuss.” Taehyung raises his hand again, but Seokjin glares at him, causing him to lower it, “This matter is of utmost importance and I believe it will affect all of us sooner or later.”

Six sets of rounded eyes stare back at him.

He drops the ball, “I have discovered….a human in my home.”

A sharp, collective gasp echoes through the room.

Jimin and Hoseok glance at each other wide-eyed while Taehyung presses a hand against his chest. Jungkook stares back at Seokjin with doe eyes as Namjoon shrinks back and Yoongi takes a sip out of his chalice filled with wine.

“You should have started with that!” Taehyung protests.

“Well, maybe you all hadn’t been – Oh, I don’t know – interrupting me constantly, then I would have!” Seokjin exclaims.

“How could you let a human in here?!” Hoseok hisses, aware only the supernatural kind were granted permission.

“This is why I have gathered all of you here.” Seokjin speaks a bit softer, “I would like some opinions about the matter and to frankly, form my own.”

Namjoon floats forward, “We had discovered her a while ago wandering outside around the mansion. She seemed lost, as if she had nowhere to go.”

“And?” Hoseok raises a brow, “You thought letting her in here was a good idea?”

“I don’t think it's too bad.” Jimin objects, “They were just trying to help.”

“Help a human? Out of all people?!”

Taehyung bites his bottom lip, “What if...the human tries to kill us?”

“I wouldn’t take it that far.” Jimin reasons, “Humans aren’t too dangerous.”

Jungkook leans back in his chair, gold eyes flickering as if recalling a fond memory. “My girlfriend used to be human and tried killing me once.”

Hoseok deeply frowns, “That’s not something to be proud of, JK.”

He huffs, “We lived happily ever after, thank you very much.”

“Someone’s a hopeless romantic.” Taehyung chuckles underneath his breath and Jungkook sends him a glare.

“Well, I for one, don’t trust it.” Hoseok states, crossing his arms. “Humans should be monitored because of how fickle they can be.”

Jimin snorts as he sips his wine, “That’s a lot coming from you.”

Hoseok venomously glowers at him.

“You got something to say, demon?”

Jimin smiles wistfully. “I don’t know, it just seems like a lot coming from an angel that’s been notoriously involved with a female demon.”

Namjoon lets out an audible gasp. Jungkook’s doe eyes increase in size and Yoongi spins his head around. Taehyung leans forward with gleaming eyes and Seokjin leans back, taking a sip of his wine.

Hoseok blushes, flustered from all the sudden attention. “T-Then what about you, huh? Why don’t you tell everyone how fond you are of humans?!”

Taehyung revolves his head around, staring at Jimin with amusement now. Seokjin sips more of his wine, intrigued by the direction of the conversation.

“What can I say?” He cheekily smiles. “Humans are very kind and loving. I have no regrets.”

“Why you–”

“H-Hyung!” Jungkook looks at Yoongi in desperation. The poor werewolf is caught sitting next to the bickering angel and demon, their interactions almost making him feel like they very well arguing over his own two shoulders. “W-What do you think about all this?”

Yoongi leans forward, clearing his throat. “Humans can be very violent and destructive, if swayed in the wrong direction. However, they can be compassionate. It’s something can take decades, even years to be able to find the right one–”

“Not all of us wait for our significant others to be reincarnated, hyung.” Taehyung comments with a smile.

“T-That’s beautiful, hyung.” Jungkook whispers while sniffling.

Taehyung looks at Jimin with a grin, mouthing ‘hopeless romantic’. The demon loudly giggles, causing Jungkook to scoff.

“Hey, it is! Do you know how long it takes to find the one you love?” He proclaims, “They could literally be your best friend and you wouldn’t even realize it!”

“Okay, JK’s started to project. Anyone else?” Seokjin looks around the table, growing bored with the conversation.

His dancing pink eyes land on Taehyung. “How about you?”

“What about me?” Taehyung gulps the last of his wine.

“You have a human partner, no?”

Taehyung smiles amused. “Do I? Who knows?”

“Oh, stop being so secretive and mysterious.” Hoseok rolls his eyes.

“I’m a warlock, angel.” Taehyung snaps his fingers, mist sparkling around that Hoseok waves off with a disgusted look. “I don’t let out my secrets so easily.”

“Okay, so Taehyung’s still as hard-headed as ever.” Seokjin glances over at Namjoon, an unamused hand planted against his face. “Any progress?”

“Two members have vouched for the human and two are against,” He looks up with a frown, staring at Taehyung, “and I believe one is undecided…?”

“So it’s a tie.” Seokjin heaves, pressing a hand against his temples, “How am I ever going to make a decision?”

“What’s going on?”

The entire room plunges into an uncomfortable silence.

Everyone slowly turns to the entrance of the grand room, line of sight redirecting to the person attached to the quiet voice that echoes into the chamber.

Your eyes are as wide as ever, taking in the grand table and the chalices of wine in front of the seven interesting individuals. There’s a mix of different coloured eyes staring back at you, paired with intricate features like wolf ears, fangs, mist, and wings. Among them, a human-like man with pink orbs is the only one you recognize.

“Seokjin?” You wonder, “Are these your friends?”

“Y/N.” Although he smiles, it doesn’t completely reach his eyes. You wonder if you interrupted something, especially with how they all stare at you like you were supernatural.

Seokjin glances around, continuing to smile, “Something like that.”

“O-Oh, that’s nice. What were you guys talking about?”

You stare at the pink-eyed man, not noticing how the angel uncomfortably shifts, or how the demon smiles in your direction. You don’t notice the werewolf staring at you naively, or the intrigue the vampire holds. You especially don’t notice the warlock pushing his wine closer to himself, or the floating man that looks at you in wonder.

“Um…” Hoseok warily peers at Taehyung.

“Don’t mind me.” He swipes away at Hoseok’s drink with mist, causing Jimin to laugh.

“Hey!”

“Shhh.” Jungkook chides, accidentally letting out a howl in the process.

“Take mine.” Yoongi offers. “I prefer blood.”

“Y/N!” Seokjin chimes in, stern pink orbs locking onto his table of supernaturals who immediately pipe down. His arm wraps around your shoulder, a charming smile on his lips.

“How about you wait outside, hm? Things are a bit…unearthly here.”

“Oh…okay!” You chirp, “I don’t mind, I hope you have fun with your friends.”

Seokjin nods, smiling unmovingly. He quickly guides you outside, before looking over in Namjoon’s direction urgently, who floats over to your side.

The two of you leave the room and Seokjin continues to smile until the door shuts.

He spins around.

“Would you all calm down?!” He hisses, taking the wine out of Taehyung’s hands and instantly separating the members, “Didn’t I already tell you she’s human?”

“And?” Hoseok retaliates, “You’re the most human looking out of all of us!”

“Yeah!” Taehyung preaches, “You’re biased towards her.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “For your kind information, I’m actually half human which is why I don’t look completely like a Faerie!”

He gestures to his ears, which should have sharper pointed ends but take on a human-like appearance instead.

“Biased! I’m calling it!” Taehyung says again.

“Wait hyung, then why do you need our help?” Jungkook questions, “Wouldn’t it be easier for you to figure it out by yourself?”

“I needed opinions.” He states, crossing his arms. “Despite being half-human, it isn’t as easy making decisions regarding them.”

“Well, I think she’s nice. Doesn’t seem too harmful.” Jimin pitches in.

“Yeah, I wasn’t quaking in fear.” Hoseok retorts.

“She’s not a werewolf slayer, I’ll tell you that.” Jungkook states with uttermost seriousness.

Yoongi shrugs, “Don’t think she’ll reincarnate anytime soon either.”

“Can I turn her into a goblin?” Taehyung lets his intrusive thoughts out, but Seokjin frowns.

He regards all of them, “I appreciate the penny for your thoughts,” His voice deepens, sounding borderline threatening “–and Taehyung, no.”

He pouts and Seokjin sighs, standing at the front of the table once again.

“I have made my decision and it will be final – Y/N be allowed to stay in this home until we can recover where she came from.”

A low laugh escapes your lips.

“Is something wrong?” Namjoon wonders and you shake your head.

“Oh, it’s nothing. You just have a really interesting group of friends.”

“Ah, well, we are all quite interesting, aren’t we?” Namjoon chuckles, before fumbling. “Uh, n-not in a suspicious way, of course. In a more human-like way, with human lifespans and human way of livin–”

“You’re all supernaturals, right?”

Namjoon freezes.

“Y-You knew?”

“It was quite obvious from the start.” You laugh, “Also, I heard Seokjin mumbling something along the lines of getting the creatures of the night to gather together just like the good ol’ tales.”

Your laughter grows as Namjoon places a sheepish hand against his temples.

He sighs, “Well, you aren’t wrong about any of that.”

“And what about you?” He turns, only to be met with your curious gaze and warm smile.

He grows hyper aware, “W-What about me?”

“I could hear them talking earlier.” You explain, gaze not leaving him. “Are you like the others? Do you have a human counterpart too?”

Namjoon is taken aback, not quite expecting you to ask. But then his smile diminishes, hints of anguish filling his orbs.

“I used to, but she crossed over not too long ago.” He looks down at his hands, his transparency only becoming more evident by the minute. “I’m just a wandering ghost now.”

Your heart sinks. “Wandering?”

“Regrets.” Namjoon shuts his eyes, “I’m tethered to this world because of my last regret – which had to do with my dead wife.”

“Oh…” Your eyes soften. “I….I hope she’s in a better place.”

“She is.” Although remorseful, you notice the hope that fills his smile. It results in one lifting onto your own lips.

The doors before suddenly come bustling open, startling the two of you.

Seokjin emerges, brimming with confidence.

“There you are!” He boasts, “A final decision has been made!”

Namjoon looks at him eagerly, “Is she staying?”

“She is, but–” Seokjin waves a finger around. “As long as she follows the rules and… accepts our true identities.”

“Oh, I already know you’re supernaturals.” You profess, much to Seokjin’s utter shock.

“She knows?!” Hoseok’s voice pitches out from the table.

“Humans are smarter than you give them credit for.” Jimin snorts.

“Well, that’s my cue to go.” Taehyung snaps his fingers, vanishing into purple smoke.

“I-I guess that answered my concern.” Seokjin stutters, staring at you with a mix of surprise and horror.

“Thank you for letting me stay.” You warmly smile, glancing in Namjoon’s direction. “It’ll be nice getting to know all of you."

He smiles back and Seokjin nods, widening the door and allowing you to enter into the dining room.

“Supernaturals are a bit peculiar around humans.” Seokjin states, placing another chair at the table, “But hopefully you’ll fit in with time.”

You slip into it, taking the seat of the eighth member amongst the large table.

Leaning back into the chair, there are specks of pink dancing within your irises.

“Don’t worry.” You grin wickedly, “I think I’ll fit in just fine.”

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4niniz · 2 years

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Scream for me - Jungkook x plus size reader

Summary: the town serial killer falls in love with y/n.

A/n: heyyy🤤 so I didn’t wanna start this yet but I am because I’m out of i ideas. Also I’m super hurt about Jin and the way they are rushing his album just to get him in the military.

Warnings: mentions of death of loved ones, blood, rough mirror sex, oral (m receiving), yandere, black mailing, squirting, praise kink, overstimulation

I never think I’d be fucking the towns cereal killer ghost face that killed all my friends and my first ever boyfriend, but here I am.

“Fuck! Y-y/n, keep sucking.” He growled as he face fucked me, hold my braids into a ponytail while pushing my head up and down on his 9 inch length. “Y/n I fucking love everything about you and your beautiful body, I love your curves and your juicy ass, the way the sides of your body turns into rolls whenever you move a certain way.” He moans as looks at my ass through the mirror right in front of us.

His words so crazy and manipulative but yet so sexy and made me feel like the most prettiest girl in the world. I felt like he loved me and I felt safe around him, but he’s a fucking cereal killer that killed my boyfriend and my best friend and could possibly kill me and my family.

He pushed my head all the way down on his lengthy cock causing me to gag and spit mixed with precum to drip out my mouth. I felt his long thick length twitch in my throat, he pulled my head off and took a deep breath, “I-I want my kids in you” he exhaled as he grabbed my hand to help me up. He bent me over right in front of the mirror I just deep throated him in front of, my hands gripping the wall as he pushed his thick tip in my tight lips, his cock still made me gasp as if it was my first time. “F-fuck please m-move” I gasp out as half his length fits into my fat pussy. He starts speeding up and letting out hard moans and curses every time he trusts into me. “If you ever fucking leave me- aughh! I’ll fucking Kill you and your family.” He groans out of pleasure and jealousy, “mhmf! Harder p-please” is all I could react with from all the over stimulation and fear. I really regret telling him to go faster. All I could feel was his dick slamming into my cervix, every single thrust making me closer to cumming. “I fucking love your juicy ass tits and ass! I wanna fuck every part of your body.” His words making me clench and my eyes to twitch and fight to stay open, he releases his nut all in side of my pussy, that warm feeling making me release right after. “ I fucking love your chubby cute body, y/n. He growls as he grabs his ghost face mask up off my bed room floor

“But why do I feel like you only like my body and the fact of controlling me?”

#bts smut #curvy #chubby #bts x plus size reader #jungkook x plus size reader #bts reactions #plusesize #bts x you #bts jungkook #jungkook x you #jungkook #jungkook x y/n #y/n x bts #y/n #horror smut #ghost face

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euno11a · 3 months

Note

do you still write for bts?

I technically still do - but I’ve been on a high for CoD for the last while, and I’m doing a major work at the moment for a friend!

I’m always down to write :)

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honey-andmilktea · 7 months

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𝐇𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐝, 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬.

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧

・゜゜・．🤎📜☕️ 𝐍𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐬: 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐒𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞

✒️ 𝟑.𝟒𝐊 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 | 🤎 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦 𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐥!𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫!𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐎𝐂!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐲!𝐎𝐓𝟕 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐎𝐂!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 🌙 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 [🧸], 𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫 [🦉], 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 [🥢], 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐀𝐔 [🏛️]

👜 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬.

🕰️ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞!

🍁 𝐈 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐎𝐂𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲! 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐁𝐓𝐒 𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐙!

✏️ 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭!

🐻 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝! 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭, 𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐭! ^^

🍷 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤? 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞! | 𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚? 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫! [𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞!]

Jungkook and Chul spoke and joked around a bit more before they had to go their separate ways. They ended up exchanging numbers with Chul insisting it was necessary in case they needed some kind of help. What kind of help? Chul wasn’t sure. She just wanted an excuse to have the cute boy’s number. Walking to her brother’s house, a new skip in her step that wasn’t there before, she ran over what her Kook talked about. She learned that they were going to the same school along with him being a Freshman which meant he was younger than her. Another piece of information she had found out was that the man was new to the area and had asked her if whenever she was free, she could show him around. She smiled to herself when the image of the taller man came to mind, how happy and bright he looked when she agreed to do so. By the time she came back from her thoughts she realized she had made it to her brother’s house. She rang the bell and knocked on the door for good measure bouncing on her toes as she waited for the door to open and to be let in.

She zoned out again seeming not to be able to shake off the thoughts of the cute man she had met. She was pulled out of these thoughts when the door opens, and her brother stands in front of her eyebrow raised as he looked her over judgmentally. “Why did you take so long, huh?” He asked leaning on the doorframe. Chul let out a breath looking her brother over and realizing he was in slippers, shorts, and t-shirt.

“Are you not cold?” She asked incredulously while he narrowed his eyes at her.

“Don’t change the subject. Answer my question.” He said, no demanded. She rolled her eyes at him and whined a little shaking the bag of snacks at him.

“I got caught up! I was buying us some snacks and getting the little man a little gift.” She pouted, giving him puppy dog eyes. “Can I come in now Ha-Joon? It’s cold out here-.” He eyed her and the bag before sighing and nodding, stepping to the side and letting her in. She cheered with a laugh, giving her older brother a big hug as she entered. The bag was handed to him while she took off her shoes slipping on her own pair of slippers that she kept there. She bounced inside while Ha-Joon shook his head walking into the kitchen to put the snacks away.

She looked around with a hum smiling at the comfort the house always gave her. Living alone wasn’t a problem for Chul but sometimes she hated how quiet everything was. “Where’s my little man?” She called out and as if on cue she heard the pitter patter of small feet and tiny squeals. She laughed when her leg was attacked with a hug crouching down and quickly snatching her nephew and holding him in the air.

“I’m here!” He squealed out wiggling in her hands with giggles slipping from his tiny lips.

“Min-Joonie.~ My little baby.~” She cooed at him pressing little kisses to his face which just caused another group of giggles to escape him.

“What did you bring me Auntie?” He asked trying to put up his cutest face knowing that it helps get information from the older woman.

“Hmmm I might have brought you some snacks.~” She smiled big when the little boy squealed in delight knowing very well his Aunt knew everything he liked. “But you have to finish dinner first.” She said with raised brows. He pouted a little but nodded his head, shaggy black hair covering his eyes as he did so. He agreed this was a valid deal and promised to finish his dinner before touching any of the snacks his Auntie had brought him. Ha-Joon came back into the room with a small smile spreading on his face as he saw Chul and Min-Joon together. Being a single father was hard for Ha-Joon so having his son be so close to his Aunt made his heart warm. He knew Min-Joon would never be alone as long as Chul was around. He took him from Chul’s arms, attacking him with kisses, smiling more when the same giggles from earlier came exploding out of him.

“Alright, dinner time you two.” He said, leading the way to the dining table, Chul following right behind with a smile. She sat down, putting her phone on the table as she dug in and started to serve herself food. Ha-Joon’s cooking was the best cooking. It was quiet for a while, them just enjoying their food and the company they had until her brother decided to break it.

“So, I don’t believe you on why you were late. Real answer please.~” He mused looking at her through his glasses, eyebrows raised while he took some noodles into his mouth. Now interested in this new information Min-Joon also looked towards her, his own small eyebrows raised. Quietly they both looked at her and she pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing at the two of them.

“You two are so similar its scary.” She muttered, opening her mouth to defend herself until her phone vibrated with a message.

‘Hey! It’s Jungkook.’

‘I’m sure you saved my number…but just in case you didn’t it’s me! ^^’

She read over the messages and blushed a little at the look her brother had given her. Min-Joon was confused as he tried to read over the notifications trying to understand what they meant. “Who’s Jungkook. Hmm?” Ha-Joon said with a questioning look, Min-Joon following his dad more so finding this amusing and fun not really understanding what was happening. His name being brought up made her blush even more, face going from a blushy pink to a bright red.

“He’s just…someone.” She muttered, putting some rice into her mouth so she didn’t over speak.

“Someone? Who? You only have like 3 friends, and I know all of them. Who is he?” Chul gasped offended at his words and scoffed.

“I have many friends.” She said sighing when her brother gave her a face knowing damn well, she was lying. She didn’t have the normal social media platforms, preferring to stay away from them. She didn’t see the need to post her life online and only really posted her pictures, using it more as a portfolio of sorts. Because of this she didn’t have many friends, but she was happy and okay with that fact. Groaning as she knew that she wasn’t going to be left off the hook that easy, deciding to come clean. “It’s a boy I met at the convenience store I went to. He was cute and I had to ask for his number.” She purses her lips, looking away from her brother’s eyes, who so happens to be boring into the side of her head. “He’s new around and wanted to get to know the area and I may have also offered to show him around some day.” She heard a small ‘oh my god’ come from her brother before he spoke.

“He’s a stranger. What if he’s a serial killer!”

“He’s too cute to be a serial killer!”

“No! That’s not how that works Chul!” She whined and swayed from side to side knowing her brother was right. She let the charms of a stranger get the best of her senses and she was most possibly going to pay for it by ending up on some crime show or in the video of a true crime fanatics YouTube channel. But before she could speak the youngest in the room spoke first.

“Objection!” He yelled his little fist hitting the table top before looking at the two with a stern face. Both of them paused, blinking, and looking at each other. They both laugh once a second passes Min-Joon looking at them before joining them.

“You need to stop letting him watch those judge shows.”

“They’re educational. He could end up being a lawyer.” Ha-Joon rolled his eyes but smiled, kissing the side of Min-Joon’s head, and ruffling his raven black hair.

“Just be careful, yeah? I don’t want to get a call that my sister is hurt. In anyway.” He hummed looking at her with sincere concern. Chul smiled back and nodded her head knowing that her brother was just worried about her well-being.

“I promise I’ll be careful.” She mused, going back to eating and making a mental note to text Jungkook back eventually.

Deciding it best she just stayed over instead of walking back home in the dark, Chul stayed in her brother’s guest room for the day. She took a quick shower and got into some clothes she had left the previous time she had stayed over. She lay down, happy and relaxed, deciding to read a book on her phone before going to sleep. She sent Jungkook a quick message back saying that she had saved his number and that she hopes they can hangout soon before the semester begins. She turns to her side, opening up and book she had started reading and never finished. She got sucked into the world of fantasy and dragons, the main couple gripping her attention that she almost missed the notification of someone texting her.

‘Hey do you want to meet up before your first class next week?’

Ah, yes. Classes start next week. Chul was aware of this information but had thought they would start a little bit later than next week. San had made it sound like a month honestly. But she smiled happily she caught the notification knowing right away who it was.

‘Hello to you too Hongjoongie! ^^ I would love to hangout with you next week before class.~’

‘…Are you okay?’

‘Yeah. Why?’

‘Nooo reason. But bets I’ll meet you before your class, I don’t have any that day either so if you want to do something after you’re done I’m open.’

Chul smiled as she kept texting her childhood friend, Kim Hongjoong. They spoke for a bit longer, deciding on where to meet up and what to do afterwards. Her eyes grew heavy slowly falling sleep hit her suddenly mid conversation. She said a quick goodnight before wrapping herself in blankets enjoying the warmth and yawning falling asleep almost instantly.

For the rest of the week, she had left of vacation there wasn’t much that happened with Chul. She didn’t run into Jungkook even though they did text regularly trying, and failing, to make plans whenever the other was free but it seemed impossible. Chul had this week realized that the house next to hers had been occupied. For how long? She has no clue. Now feeling like a bad neighbor had decided that soon she would go there and introduce herself with a nice plate of cookies. Very friendly, neighborly and movie like. The only eventful things she managed to do was hangout with San whenever him and his boyfriend, Jung Wooyoung, hung out. Hongjoong was busy with a Summer job at a vinyl store, one they would go to a lot as kids, which she visited to say hey and have a small conversation with the man before he got too busy. She recently had made a friend…more so acquaintance on a walk in the park. Her name was Kyung Mi and they hit it off right after Chul apologized to her repeatedly after bumping into her and spilling ink all over the sheets she was writing on. After that nothing really interesting happened.

The day had come though, the day of wrecking.

First day of classes.

Chul sighed walking down the scenic way to school, not being able to get much sleep as she was nervous about school. Her camera was hanging from her neck taking quick pictures of whatever caught her eye. She hid her face in her fuzzy, chunky white turtle neck standing in front of a tree that had looked pretty in the light. She stood looking through the pictures she had taken deciding which ones were good enough to place into her portfolio. She was bumped into by someone, causing her to look up. The person quickly apologized, running towards an area she remembered had a small park. She hummed, looking in its direction, noticing a small crowd had started to form. Interest instantly peaked and she walked up to the crowd. She tried her best to dodge people and not bump into anyone as she tried to get a look at what was happening. She let out a breath as she got to the front and groaned when someone bumped into her again. She huffed slowly deeming whatever was being surrounded was not worth it until she looked up.

Her eyes laid on a man. It wasn’t just any man though. He was beautiful almost as if the gods themselves created him to be the most perfect being. He looked like he should be on magazines or in movies. Her eyes couldn’t move from him, and she didn’t realize he was looking directly back at her. He looked at her almost the same way she looked at him. ‘She’s so beautiful.’ He thought to himself looking her over. Even in casual clothing that was meant to keep her warm over anything else she looked perfect to him. Everyone else noticed him staring at the woman, confused as to why he was paying attention to such a common and normal girl. While they both were lost in their own little worlds, Chul didn’t realize she instinctively took a picture of him with her camera. You couldn’t blame her though; it was her job to take pictures of what was pretty and beautiful.

The sound of the shudder pulled them both out of their thoughts. Just now realizing that the handsome man was staring at her back when he gave her a soft smile. She went completely red, frozen from realizing what she had done. He stepped forward wanting to say something, anything really. Anything to get the pretty woman to stay so he could keep looking at her. But before he could she turned and ran away, screaming inwardly and berating herself for everything she had done. The man couldn’t even process his thoughts until he started to get swarmed again smiling and accepting gifts along with pictures with his fans. The image of the woman in the back of his head.

Chul whined to herself as she walked to the front gates of the school pouting as she waited for Hongjoong to appear and walk her to class. They had decided it would be best to talk instead of going anywhere just to enjoy each other’s company since it had been a while, they had been able to really enjoy some alone time. Hongjoong stopped in front of her, sitting on his motorbike and quirking an eyebrow at her when he took off his helmet. “What’s with the pout buttercup?” He asked, kicking out the stand of the bike making sure it was in a safe place before turning to look at her. She whined more, pout getting bigger as she crashed into his chest. Joong blinked in surprise patting the back of her head, stroking her hair softly.

“I’m so embarrassed.” She muttered into his hard chest. Her answer just caused more confusion to spread on Joong’s face.

“Alright…let’s walk to your building and you can tell me everything that happened. How does that sound?” He said gently, rubbing her back patiently. He was always gentle and Chul loved him for it. She nodded, pulling away and holding onto his arm as they walked into the campus, her rambling about everything that had happened just a mere minutes ago.

Chul huffed as she heard Hongjoong’s laughter fill her ears. He was laughing at her. How dare he! When she was having a crisis, he was laughing. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He said repeatedly trying to calm himself. “It’s just not something I would think would happen to you.” He motioned to the camera before continuing to speak. “Let me see the picture. He might be a popular Junior or something, I might know him.” She nodded, pouting a little at his other comment, handing over the camera. Joong looked at the picture intently, eyebrows scrunched. “He looks extremely familiar.” He muttered, handing the camera back.

“Well, if you happen to remember who he is, please let me know. So, I can apologize to him.” Joong snorted and shook his head ruffling her hair.

“It’s not that bad. Maybe he was looking at you because he thought you were pretty.” Chul shook her head quickly in disagreement.

“Nope! Impossible! Now if you excuse me,” She stood up dramatically turning away from him, Joong just laughing more. “I have to go to class.” She flipped her hair even more dramatically, Joong standing and waiting for a second knowing she was going to come back. And he was right she jogged back giving him a quick hug before jogging back to her building. “I’m still mad at you!” She called out Joong shaking his head another time, a fond smile on his face as he waved her off walking back to the front gates and to his motorcycle. Inside the building she pressed the call elevator button. She patiently waited for it to land, stepping into it, and pressing the 4th floor button. The doors started to close before they could fully close though a hand quickly stuck out causing the doors to reopen. The person stepped in and stood next to her. She wasn’t fully paying attention, unsure as to who it was, and the other person was too busy with their music to say anything. By some miracle though they made eye contact both perking up as they realized who it was.

“Jungkook!”

“Chul!” He laughed, giving her a small hug, and realized they were going to the same floor. They stepped out and smiled at each other. “I didn’t expect to see you here. What are you doing here?” A realization hit her as she smiled sheepishly. “I never asked what your major was.” Kook giggled under his breath his iconic bunny smile stretching on his face.

“It’s alright, I didn’t ask either. I’m a Computer Science major.” He said with a proud smile and his chest puffed out a little. ‘Cute.’ Chul thought giving a soft chuckle and smile.

“I’m an Animation major with a minor in Photography.” She said with her own proud smile while Jungkook looked at her with sparkly eyes.

“You take pictures and animate? I everything you do is amazing!” Chul giggled a small pink blush dusted on her cheeks. She waved her hand dismissively at him.

“It’s not that amazing.”

“Nonsense! You lie and I won’t listen to it.” He covered his ears playfully and shook his head. Chul laughed more covering her lips with the back of her hand. While she was busy laughing Jungkook smiled down at her, a little fond with a small blush dusted on the tips of his ears. Her laugh sounded like such pleasant music and her smile was to die for. He never wanted to stop hearing or seeing either one.

“Since you’re a Computer Science major why are you in the art building?” Chul asked, pulling Kook out of his little fantasies, his blush growing darker.

“Oh, I’m here for a painting requirement. Which starts in like 5 minutes!” He said a little frantic, starting to speed walk towards the direction of the class. Chul bit her bottom lip to hold back a laugh especially when Kook turned and walked backwards waving at her frantically. “Bye! Let’s meet after our classes end! I’ll text you when I’m done.” He called out, she waved back nodding her head along to what he was saying. She turned to walk to her drawing class, texting Hongjoong a short message saying she might be a little late to meet him since she will be catching up with a new friend. The only response she got was a little shock emoji which caused Chul to roll her eyes before stepping into her class.

She smiled as she sat down, finding she couldn’t hold it back even if she tried.

She was actually looking forward to this.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 🍂✏️ @honey-andmilktea - 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭, 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

: ̗̀➛ 🤎🪵🪶 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧: 𝟏𝟏.𝟎𝟖.𝟐𝟑

: ̗̀➛ 🤎🪵🪶 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐧: 𝟎𝟕.𝟑𝟏.𝟐𝟐

: ̗̀➛ 🤎🪵🪶 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞: @armysantiny, @faywithlove, @moonprismo, @iridescentxstars, @felicityroth

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gwiyeounsonyeon · 1 year

Text

ive been xtra obsessed with these boys if you wanted to try and request something. please bear with me though idk if im gonna be able to get anything done today but i want to try…

BTS - namjoon, yoongi, *i would be willing to attempt writing for jimin and jungkook*

BIGBANG - g dragon, top, taeyang, daesung

detective loki (prisoners), ghost, konig, leon kennedy, han lue (tokyo drift)

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bangtanloverboys · 2 years

Text

just a ghost out of his grave // jjk

summary - if there’s anything jungkook hates more than being dead, it’s ghost hunters who won’t let him spend his afterlife in peace

pairing - ghost!jungkook x ghost hunter!reader

genre - humor, angst; ghost au

word count - 1.3k

warnings - ghost files/buzzfeed unsolved reference, mentions of death, jk died young (like 17-18)

author’s note - happy halloween everyone! i hope you all enjoyed these little ghost stories

tagged - @jeontier

the ghost of you masterlist

If life was long, death felt longer. It had been. . . God, Jungkook couldn’t recall how long ago it had been since his accident. Days? Weeks? Months? However long it had been, he didn’t like being dead. He knew he was dead too, which was a bit weird finding out. All he remembered was exploring the old abandoned psychiatric hospital a few miles south of town, rumored to be haunted. He was there on a dare. He knew he shouldn’t have been there, but Jungkook was never one to back down from a challenge. All he had to do was grab something and get out. He couldn’t even remember exactly what, but he knew he had it in his hand when he died. Falling through the floor.

The reason the building was abandoned was for a multitude of reasons: hospital shut down due to lack of funds, the supposed ghosts (not supposed anymore, as Jungkook was now one of them), and the building not being structurally sound. He thought those last bits were just made up to keep kids away. But hindsight is 20/20, especially when you’re dead.

At first, Jungkook couldn’t handle it, the whole being dead thing. He screamed, threw things, yelled at anyone he could see walking past through the window. But quickly, he realized that it was no use. No one heard him and all he was doing was wasting energy.

As time went on, Jungkook tried to make peace with his death. A bit difficult considering he was stuck in an abandoned hospital for the rest of eternity, but it was the thought that counts.

But there was one problem Jungkook grew to realize that he hated more than being dead. And that was ghost hunters. Every few weeks or so (usually in the summer or fall), teams of teenagers with ouija boards or grown adults with all sorts of gear would break into his final resting place and annoy the absolute shit out of him.

At first he thought it was funny, scaring the teenagers into believing he was a demon or using that very loud and annoying spirit box to say stuff like “apple-tater” and “spaghetti”. But after so many “who are you”s and “let your presence be known”s, he wished for nothing more than to be alive only to smack the shit out of these so-called ghost hunters.

Tonight was just like any other, a small group of young adults with backpacks and cameras came strolling in like they owned the place, ready to “capture evidence”. Jungkook resisted the urge to roll his eyes as the leader of the group, who seemed to be you, gave orders for where all the tech should be placed.

“Alright, Jimin, set up the laser grid in the south-west hallway. Hoseok, you do a sweep with an EVP in the west wing. Tae and I will take the REM pod up to the 2nd floor. Try and do a spirit box session and remember to keep your cameras on at all times,” you instructed, looking at each of the other guys.

“You got it.” They all sounded off as they went off in their separate ways. After watching them split up, Jungkook decided to follow after you and Taehyung, who seemed to be clinging to your side, you two seemed like he would get the most fun out of this encounter. “Tae, I love you, but you’re slowing me down.”

“You’re heading towards the spot where a guy literally died falling through the floor! You need to be careful!” The taller man hissed back at you.

Now that caught Jungkook’s attention.

You rolled your eyes at your friend. “That’s the third and fourth floor. We’re going to where he fell to.”

“You mean where he died!”

“Taehyung, we are in a psychiatric hospital. People have probably died in every room of this building. Now shut up, we’re almost there.”

You were right, Jungkook thought. It wasn’t a hard spot to miss, there was a hole in the ceiling where he fell through and another hole above that. He went through two stories, shattering all the bones in his body. . . He still felt the sickening crack of each one if he thought about it.

Jungkook watched curiously as you handed Taehyung a camera, who immediately started filming as you pulled out a device from your bag. It was an interesting circular thing, with dozens of colorful bulbs on the top. You set it down right below where he fell through, on the spot he died.

“Okay. Mysterious Teenager Spirit, this is a REM pod, the closer you get to it, it’ll light up. Can you step closer to it if you understand?” You spoke out into the air, looking about the empty room. Jungkook stood still, not sure if he should give you any satisfaction. “Here, I’ll show you.” You stepped forward, holding your hand above it, and the lights started going off. “Easy. Can you do that?”

Unsure how long he would be able to take it, Jungkook complied. He stepped closer to the device, the light bulbs pulsing.

“Woah!” You and your friend called out in shock.

“Okay! Uh, oh shit, spirit box. Hang on.” You dug around in your pocket, pulling out another device he was all too familiar with. The ever present static echoed against the walls. “My name is Y/N and this is my friend Taehyung. Can you say our names back to us?” Jungkook didn’t say anything. “Can you tell us your name?”

“Why should I tell you?” He said.

“Why,” was all the machine picked up.

“Oh shit! This is. . . this is awesome, okay. Tae, you’re getting this right?” You looked to your friend, who looked like he was about ready to crap his pants.

“Y-yeah.”

“Okay, keep rolling.” You turned back to the spirit box. “Because wouldn’t it be nice for people to know?”

“Eat shit and die.”

“Eat shit. . . Die.”

You blinked down at the spirit box, a look of disbelief written over your face.

“Did. . . did the ghost tell you to eat shit?” Taehyung asked.

“I- uh, yeah. . . .Okay. Didn’t expect that.,” you muttered. “Can you tell us how you died?”

“I fell through the fucking floor! You know this already,” Jungkook said as he crossed his arms, he hated these dumbass questions.

“I fell. . . you know this. . .”

Both you and Taehyung are completely silent now. “How. . . how did you know we know?”

“You were literally talking about it,” he scoffed.

“. . .literally talking about it. . .” The spirit box repeated.

“Okay, so you are the teenager that died here then? You fell through the floor, you were here on a dare. What were you dared to get?”

“Y/N, we got enough evidence, I don’t wanna anger it any-”

“Shhh!”

You both were silent, giving Jungkook time to respond but he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t remember.

“You went up to the fourth floor. Do you remember what’s on the fourth floor?” You asked.

Jungkook racked his brain for it, he didn’t go up there too often in his afterlife. But he recalled something. . . something about a tool from the head doctor’s office.

“Head doctor. . .” The spirit box answered after he responded.

“That’s right. The head doctor’s office is up there. And you grabbed something from that office. Do you remember what it was?”

Jungkook furrowed his brows together, trying to remember what. The more he thought, the angrier he got. He didn’t even notice the two of you beginning to shiver in your thick coats.

A beeping came from Taehyung’s pocket. “Y/N, the temperature’s dropping. . .” He said as he looked at the beeping device.

“I don’t remember,” Jungkook gritted out.

“Don’t remember.”

“You can! Just think, what’s in a doctor’s office usually?”

Frustrated, he let out a scream, causing all the equipment you had out to blitz.

“Shut it off! Y/N, let’s go!” Taehyung shouted at you, ready to bolt out the door back to the others.

“Okay, okay!” You shouted back as you turned off the spirit box, silence finally filling the room once again. Jungkook didn’t know how, but he could swear you were looking right at him. “It was a journal. You died grabbing his journal.”

#btsghostie #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts ghost au #ghost jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook humor #bts humor #bts angst

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ggukkiereads · 2 years

Note

hi! i’m sorry for the trouble but i’m trying to find this fic where jungkook is an idol? and he dies and the reader gets married to the him after his death? and they have a connection and he keeps appearing in her dreams and his memories keep appearing in her dreams. i hope that makes sense and gives u some clue!

🌷 Hi! If you checked my fic rec list for idol aus, you will actually find this fic listed. Also included in past reading lists/reblogs. This is Ghost Marriage by @akinnie75

#fichunting #ghost marriage #akinnie75 #jungkook idol au #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #🌷 chats #kkulfm93

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wintaerbaer · 4 months

Text

bottle up old love (jjk) (m)

summary: Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.

pairing: Jungkook x Reader

rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

genre: exes to lovers, the holy trinity of angst/smut/fluff

word count: 4.6k (this was supposed to be a drabble 💀)

prompt: JK + exes to lovers + "I'm sorry" + "I hate you" + "Don't fucking touch me" + "Leave" (for @btsborahaee <3)

warnings: language, a short harassment scene at the beginning (nothing too intense), explicit content including: unprotected sex (DO NOT), fingering, praise kink, biting, marking, spanking, cum eating (sort of?), big cawk soft dom jk, cowgirl (yeehaw), creampie, cockwarming, i think that's all but this also wasn't supposed to be too smutty so clearly idk what's going on lol

MASTERLIST

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

You spit the words at the man in front of you, pushing him back as he tries to make another grab at your arm.

“Why do you gotta be like that?” Seungcheol whines. “I thought we were having fun.”

“You and I have very different ideas of fun.” You take a step backwards towards your building. Somewhere down the sidewalk, footsteps clatter against the pavement.

“C’mon.” He matches your movement, reaches for you again. “Invite me up. You enjoyed the last time, didn’t you? I told you that was just a warm-up.”

The building’s brick wall is closer than you thought, and you bang your shoulder against it as you try to sidestep him. “Last time you didn’t follow me to a bar I didn’t even invite you to. How did you know where I was anyway?”

“Let me come up, and I’ll tell you,” he rumbles with a flicker of his eyebrows. He has you fully backed up against the wall now, and you press against the muscle of his chest to no avail.

“Stop!” you shout before he’s ripped away from you so suddenly that you’re left blinking in confusion, huddled against the brick.

There’s a thud–the sound of a fist hitting flesh–and a yelp before Seungcheol is reeling back with his hands clutching his nose. Blood seeps out from beneath his fingers, black even under the glow of the streetlamps.

“What the fuck?” he shrieks, and it’s only then that you take a proper look at your savior, looking every bit like he’s stepped straight out of the shadows with his dark hair, ebony clothes, and deep brown eyes.

And a lead weight drops into your stomach as you recognize him.

Jungkook sets himself between you and Seungcheol, looming over the latter as he continues to cover his face, whining. “I’m giving you ten seconds to get out of here.”

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“Ten,” Jungkook growls, taking a step in Seungcheol’s direction. “Nine.”

Seungcheol straightens–clearly a last-ditch attempt to look intimidating. Spitting blood onto the concrete, he peers at you over Jungkook’s shoulder. “This isn’t over, bitch.”

Then he spins and takes off running down the street.

Your hands grip your elbows. It may be a balmy summer night, but you’re shivering where you stand, unsure whether you’re more affected by Seungcheol’s behavior or the ghost who’s unexpectedly in front of you.

“Are you okay?” he quietly asks, gaze fixed on your face. You stare at your shoes and give him a brisk nod as a response before turning away, punching in your building code, and walking through the front door.

He follows closely, slipping in behind you and trailing a few feet. You let him for a little while, guiding him through the modest lobby and up the first flight of stairs. But when you’re halfway up the second stairwell–almost to your floor–you pause on the landing, spinning his way.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

His eyes are gentle, sincere. “Making sure you get in safely.”

“There’s no need for that,” you assert. “I’m already in my building. There’s a keypad. I’m good.”

“The keypad does almost nothing. I followed you in no problem.”

“So I should be worried about you then?”

He flushes, the tips of his ears going pink. “Please just let me see you inside.”

You want to argue back, want to shout at him and make a scene, but you know it’s no use. Know that he’s stubborn as a bull and will get what he wants one way or another.

It’s how he broke up with you after all.

You say nothing, only hustle up the last set of steps and down the dimly-lit hallway until you’re in front of your door, Jungkook tailing you the whole time with his hands in his pockets. You practically fumble your key in your haste to get it into the lock, letting out a satisfied sigh as the latch finally clicks open.

“There. I’m in,” you say as you step over the threshold, waving a dismissive hand at your unwanted companion. “Leave.”

But he hesitates just outside the doorway, teeth chewing at the corner of his lip. “What are you going to do if he comes back?”

“That’s my problem, isn’t it? I stopped being your concern when you dropped me out of nowhere a year ago.”

Your eyes sting at the memory, tears threatening to spill over. You don’t want him here. Don’t want to see him or have him anywhere in your vicinity. Not when it still hurts like this.

Though, truth be told, you don’t expect to ever be fully over him.

“We’re done, Jungkook,” you murmur. “You made sure of that.”

And you close the door in his face.

The distress subsides quickly once he’s out of sight–like he was never there to begin with–and you don’t linger, dropping your bag on the sofa and heading straight for the bathroom. This is how you’ve made it a year without him; it was weeks of crying before you realized that wallowing was doing you no good, only fueling your misery instead of providing any kind of catharsis. So you’ve done your best to simply push past it and cast away the anguish that bubbles up every time you think of him. Not allow it to linger like the shadows at the edges of the room.

You shed your clothes and turn the shower to a temperature that you’ll probably regret later. But for now, you savor the way the water sears your skin as you wash away the day with all of its unpleasant surprises. Taking your time, you scrub every inch of your body and carefully shampoo your hair (trying not to fall back into the fantasy that’s plagued you on occasion where it’s his hands and not yours spreading the bubbles over your form).

The self-care continues as you step out of the shower and leisurely work through your skin care routine, even taking the time to blow dry your hair. By the time you exit the bathroom, the fog on the mirror has dissipated, and you’ve once again successfully tamped down the memory of Jungkook and his hands and eyes and everything you ever felt for him.

Or so you think.

After popping into your bedroom to pull on some pajamas, you pad back into the living room for a glass of water, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the front door. Regret attempts to push its way into your consciousness against your better judgment. The man broke your heart, yes. But you do feel a little guilty slamming the door in his face after he just fought off a creep for you.

And speaking of Seungcheol, what if he does come back? You’re pretty sure he saw you punch in the building code the night you brought him home with you, and given his behavior, you wouldn’t be surprised if he filed it away in his head.

Anxiety winning out, you creep to the door and peer through the peephole. The hallway looks empty, drab beige walls taking up most of your field of view, but you jump as you spot a hulking shadow to the right. Your heartbeat races then slows, a closer look revealing hunched, unmoving shoulders wrapped in a familiar black t-shirt.

Jungkook swings his head to look at you as you open the door and glare down at him. His legs are pulled up, arms resting on his knees, and it might be endearing if not for the fact that he absolutely, positively should not be here.

“What are you doing?” you ask him for the second time tonight.

“He might come back.”

“And you’re going to what? Fight him?”

He shrugs. “If I have to.”

“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, challenging. “You’re going to sit out here all night?”

He shifts where he sits, wiggling his hips like he’s firmly planting his butt into his chosen spot. “Yes.”

You roll your eyes at him but don’t doubt that he would. Again, if there is anything you know this man to be, it’s stubborn. “You’re going to scare the neighbors.”

“Who, Mrs. Kwon?” A tiny smile plays on his lips as he glances in the direction of your elderly neighbor’s apartment. “I think she’d be delighted to see me.”

If you’re being honest, she probably would be. She’s always adored Jungkook and praised him as the “kind, handsome young man” who helped her put away groceries and fixed her leaky faucet one time. In the months following your breakup, she’d asked about him once or twice, patting your arm reassuringly when you awkwardly told her she wouldn’t be seeing him anymore.

“Don’t worry, dear,” she said. “He’ll come around.”

Well she’s turned out to be right in that he’s certainly back here again, still watching you from his spot on the floor. And you don’t know whether it’s his big doe eyes or the fact that he really would guard your apartment all night if you let him or the genuine fear that one of the other neighbors will make a fuss at his presence, but you feel yourself softening.

Turning abruptly, you stride into the kitchen for your glass of water, walking out of sight of the door, which is still wide open.

“You coming?” you call, pulling two glasses down from the cupboard.

There’s a rustle as Jungkook stands and shuffles into your apartment, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. For someone who was so determined to defend you tonight, he seems uncertain now that he’s actually inside. His hands are once again stuffed in his pockets, and his eyes flicker around like he hasn’t been here a thousand times. Hasn’t cooked you breakfast in this kitchen in nothing but his boxers. Hasn’t watched The Notebook with you on this TV and held you as you both cried.

Hasn’t made love to you on the couch.

You slide a water his way, and he murmurs his thanks, sipping at it lightly. It’s strange–seeing him here again–and you can’t help but think about the last time he stood in this room. It’d been a maelstrom of accusations and hurt feelings that culminated in him storming out, the slam of the door echoing in your ears.

“You never cleaned that?” He gestures at the rug that covers most of the sitting area in your living room, eyes on the dark purple stain roughly the size of your hand.

You gulp down your water and try not to follow his line of sight. Try not to remember how you’d knocked over a glass of wine in your haste to get his clothes off during another movie night less than a month before your breakup.

“I kind of forgot about it,” you say. “Stopped noticing it after a while.”

It’s a lie. There was never a time when you didn’t notice it, the memory of him haunting you every time you sit down on the couch and stare at the garish stain. And still, you haven’t been able to bring yourself to try and erase it.

Silence worms its way between you again. With only the soft light from the tabletop lamp glowing next to the couch, Jungkook’s face is cloaked in shadow. And so you barely see his lips move when he speaks. Barely hear it with how quietly his whisper slips into the room.

“I’m sorry.”

Your glass almost drops from your fingers, droplets splashing across your knuckles as you catch it at the last moment and steady it on the countertop. Turning to face him, you find his gaze already on you, melancholy tinting his expression.

“What?”

He tongues his lip ring, shoulders dropping a fraction. “For how things ended. I’m sorry.”

You can see the sincerity in his posture, can see the sadness in his form. And yet, his words only fill you with a hot anger that bubbles out of you before you can swallow it down.

“I don’t know why you would be,” you challenge, “being that you didn’t even respect me enough to give me a proper reason.”

Jungkook huffs at that; you think he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Did it really matter?”

“Yes.”

He gnaws at his lip again, no longer looking at you, and his lack of an answer only riles you up further.

“Was there someone else?” you demand, causing him to flinch. It was the same thing you asked him when he told you he thought you should break up, standing in almost this exact same spot.

“No,” he murmurs after a moment. “There wasn’t anyone else.” He pushes a hand through his dark, silky hair. “There hasn’t been anyone else since either.”

This surprises you. Jungkook is, in your eyes, the handsomest man you have ever come face-to-face with, but even from an objective standpoint, he is exceedingly attractive. There is no doubt in your mind that he would easily be able to land a woman if he so desired.

“So then why?”

He sets his jaw, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and fixes his stare out the window. And it’s this final refusal, this steadfast dedication to not explaining himself, that finally has tears tracking down your cheeks.

The sight of you crying has his attention snapping back your way, hands reaching out as if to hold you.

“Don’t touch me,” you gasp, recoiling until you’re out of reach. “I…I hate you.”

It almost seems as if your voice lands physically, and Jungkook staggers back like you’ve slapped him, remorse immediately wiggling its way between your ribs. You know you don’t mean the words even as they fall from your mouth, but it feels pointless to take them back now, the sentiment already thrown out there and hovering in the hollow space between you.

Jungkook muddles towards the couch–more of a defeated slump dragging his steps than anger–and you think he’s going to sit down before he whirls back towards you at the last second.

“The gala,” he mutters. “That’s when I decided.”

You know which one he’s talking about. Hosted by your medical school to celebrate the end of the academic year, it had been a night of food, dancing, and socializing. You had, of course, brought him as your date and introduced him to your friends and classmates, excited to finally allow him to put faces to names. As you comb through your memories of the night, you can’t pinpoint any warning signs, only remembering the way he’d smiled at you throughout. The way he’d pulled you close and danced you around the room.

“I don’t…I don’t understand.”

He rakes his fingers through his hair again, tossing strands of night over his forehead. A sad chuckle looses itself into the thick air of the room, and the final dregs of his resolve flicker away. “I realized that I didn’t deserve to stand next to you. That you could do much better than me.”

Whatever you thought his reason had been–whatever theories or thoughts had kept you up night after night for the past year–this is not even close to what you expected. And while you always thought finally receiving an answer would be freeing, would offer you some semblance of understanding, you’re surprised at the rage that boils in the pit of your stomach, bile rising in your throat.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” you growl, taking an angered step towards him. “You were feeling insecure, and you made the decision to break up with me without even thinking to, I don’t know, discuss it with me first?”

His hand goes to the back of his neck now, embarrassment showing its face as he peers at you from under his lashes. “I was stupid–”

“No, shit.”

“But can you blame me?” he presses. “There we were: you, about to be this incredible doctor with all of your doctor friends…” His voice falters, sorrow lacing his tone. “And I’m just a tattoo artist.”

The defeatist way he says it helps to dampen your ire some, even if a heap of frustration remains–the sad shape of his doe eyes softening your edges.

“Just a tattoo artist,” you repeat. “Jungkook, I have always been so, so proud of you. I was never anything but proud to have you as my partner. You must’ve known that.”

His teeth worry his lip, and though he nods, he doesn’t seem fully convinced.

So you continue on, closing the distance between you a fraction more. “You started your own business from nothing. And I saw how hard you worked: to get the building, to hire other artists, train your apprentices.” You shake your head–half in irritation, half in awe. “And look at you now! You’re thriving. The last I heard, if you want an appointment at Golden Tattoo, you need to book months in advance.”

His eyes are alight now, some hidden emotion glimmering under the surface, but he stays quiet as he soaks in your words.

“So how can you possibly act like you weren’t enough?” you push. “You are amazing, Jungkook. And I never gave a shit about any job comparisons people may have made.” One more step, and suddenly you’re almost chest-to-chest. As always, you’re unable to resist the pull of his gravity. Yanked right back into his orbit. “I only wanted you. I’ve only ever wanted y–”

He cuts you off with his mouth, strong hands snagging your hips to pull you against him, and your own fingers reflexively tangle in his black hoodie as your subconscious gives itself over to him. Like it’s been waiting for this.

“I’m not. Not thriving,” he mumbles against your lips. “Not without you. Been miserable without you.”

And in spite of your anger, in spite of the fact that you were ready to kick him out a mere hour ago, you find yourself kissing him back, relishing the slick glide of his tongue as he licks into your mouth.

You startle as the backs of your knees suddenly bump against the couch, and then Jungkook is spinning as he settles onto the plush seat, pulling you along to straddle him. He sucks at your neck until you can feel the blood blooming under your skin, painting you like the pretty ink on his arm.

Speaking of.

The fabric of his hoodie whispers as you pull it up and over his back and head, tossing it over his shoulder and into a corner. His arms now bare to you, you gloss over his tattoos with your eyes and fingers until you find the one you’d picked out for him; the lovely orange of the flower petals seem to glow even in the dim light of the room.

“Beautiful,” you whisper.

“Just like you.”

You look at him then, the twinkle of tiny galaxies in his eyes betraying his hope. And before you can go any further, you need confirmation.

“You left.”

“I did.” Fingertips press lightly against your waist like he’s afraid you might be the one to disappear now. “I’m sorry.”

“Jungkook, if…” You lick your lips. Can almost taste his regret. “If we do this and you leave again–”

“If we do this, I'm not going anywhere,” he insists, tugging your hips down to grind against him and ghosting a kiss at your jaw. “Just wanna be here with you. Just want you.”

And it’s all you need to hear.

You shed the cotton shirt you had thrown on after your shower and move to yank his own off, tossing it in the same corner as his hoodie. The muscles of his pecs and abs shift under your hands, burning hot where your fingers trace the contours of his torso.

“God, I missed this,” he groans as he buries his face between your breasts, nipping at the skin there before laving the spot with his tongue.

You’d agree–echo the sentiment that your body has been aching for this–if not for the fact that you’re too busy trying to get the two of you naked, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts.

But a tattooed hand covers yours, eases it away to take its place. “No,” he rumbles. “Let me.”

Wide palms and long fingers span your hips and thighs, grasping as much skin as possible even as he drags your shorts and panties down your legs and helps to steady you as you kick them off. They join the tangle of his own clothes

“Fucking gorgeous,” he growls at the sight of you finally naked in front of him. And with such speed that it almost seems like it’s involuntary, an impulse outside of his control, he’s immediately stroking at the apex of your thighs.

“Baby, this wet for me already?” A breathy sigh passes from his mouth to yours, almost laughing at the ease with which he glides through your folds. “Hell, I could just–”

A finger slips in and you gasp, Jungkook smiling wickedly at you as he quickly adds a second and curls them against your walls. You force your eyes closed as they roll back in your head, and you keel forward, babbling incoherently against the line of his collarbone.

“Use your words, love; you can do it.” He says it as if his fingers aren’t currently buried in you down to the knuckle. As if he’s not making you see stars behind your eyelids right now.

You choke down a breath, desperate for the oxygen. “Insane,” you pant. “I said you’re fucking insane.”

“Only for you,” he says before sliding his digits out of you and dipping them into his mouth. He moans at the taste, and even with his lips closed tightly, you can see the way he’s working his tongue around each finger, unwilling to waste a single drop of your essence.

Like you said. Insane.

He gives you a moment to catch your breath until you’re the one who’s getting impatient, hastily undoing his belt and tearing it from his pants with a hiss. But as you shift off of him so he can slither out of his pants and boxers–his length springing free to slap against his smooth stomach–you’re hit with an untimely realization.

“Jungkook, I don’t have condoms.”

He freezes, the color draining from his face (though admittedly, that may be because all of his blood has clearly gone south). The two of you stare at each other for a long second before he suddenly leans over, rummaging back through his pants pockets. He pulls out his wallet, rifles through it, then tosses it across the room in frustration, head tilting back against the couch as he groans at the ceiling.

“Fuck, me neither.”

You chew at your lip, a loaded quiet settling over the room as Jungkook wipes a hand over his face.

“I’m still on birth control,” you whisper, and Jungkook whips his head around, eyes wide and questioning like he’s not sure he heard you right. But you don’t repeat yourself, only hold his stare until he’s tentatively reaching out to graze his fingertips along your thigh.

“I told you. There’s been no one else.” His expression is earnest, eager. You trust that he’s telling the truth, and yet you also know that if you refused him, if you said you weren’t comfortable, he wouldn’t push.

So you swing a leg back over his lap, drag your wet folds against his cock. He moans, gripping your thighs hard, but he leans in to bite at your lower lip with a growl before pulling back to search your face.

“You?”

It hurts that he even feels the need to ask. Because how could you even want someone else? Who could possibly measure up?

You brush a reassuring, barely-there kiss against his already swollen lips. “No one else for me either.”

This seems to please him, but you still see hesitation behind his eyes as he asks, “What about the guy downstairs?”

A drunken mistake was what that was. All sloppy lips and fumbling hands that had left you feeling more empty than anything, and which resulted in you sending Cheol away before he had even gotten a peek at your bedroom.

“We made out once,” you admit, hating that you’re even having to think about another man when Jungkook is here in front of you. “But nothing else happened.”

“Good,” he grunts, but his fingers dig into your backside like he’s trying to reclaim you. And just a fraction of a second later, he’s devilishly tonguing his lip ring as he winds his palm back to bring it down harshly against the meat of your ass, the smack echoing between the walls almost endlessly.

“Ride me, baby.”

You’re quick to line him up–desperate, at this point, to have him inside of you–and begin to ease yourself down slowly, trying to give your body the space and time to adjust to the burning stretch of his girth. He’s always filled you to your absolute limit, tested the furthest boundaries of how much your body can take with his size.

“Yesss,” he hisses, nipping at your neck once again. “You’re doing great, love. Always take me so fucking well.”

You gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to catch your breath with the relentless push of him. If you were a betting woman, you’d put money on your intestines being somewhere in the area of your throat right now.

He wraps his inked arm around your waist, continuing to whisper his praises against the shell of your ear as he starts to guide your body up and down. Intoxicated by the smooth slide of his length, you soon find your pace, and your shared moans fill the room–the whole city probably able to hear you right now.

You move that way until the pressure building becomes too much and your legs start to tremble, quivering against Jungkook’s own muscled thighs.

“It’s okay; I’ve got you.” He bands his arms around you and presses you to his chest, holding you in place so he can thrust upwards.

Hard.

You’re practically screaming now, burying your teeth into his shoulder so as to muffle your sounds and not scare the neighbors. It’s all you can do to hold on for dear life as he rapidly pistons his cock inside of you, the slap of your hips like a metronome.

It builds and builds until it breaks and you’re falling apart in his arms, the spasms of your inner walls pulling him over the edge with you as he empties his seed deep inside.

The silence that follows in unlike the others you previously shared this evening–tension traded for serenity as you sit on the couch holding each other, you still contentedly stuffed full of him. He traces the ridges of your spine in a soothing pattern that has your eyelids drooping, your cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck.

“I missed this,” you whisper once your brain has finally remembered how to construct human speech.

“I missed you.”

You pull back so you can rest your forehead against his and gently run a finger over the lines of his face. “Where do we go from here?”

He hums. Tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “Take it day by day?” he suggests. “We don’t need to rush into anything if you don’t want to.”

“Mm, that does seem like a problem for tomorrow.”

A dark eyebrow quirks, teasing. “And what about right now?”

“Now?” you ask. “Do you remember the way to the bedroom? Or…” You shift your hips, already feeling him twitching inside of you.

“Or.” He jolts forward to capture your mouth in a hot kiss, and you smile into it, whole again. “Or sounds good.”

a/n: pls like, reblog, reply, and/or send an ask if you enjoyed! <3

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fic #bts fanfic

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oddinary4bts · 4 months

Text

To Give a Helping Hand | jjk

☆summary: when Jungkook comes home from the gym, he goes feral thinking about you.

☆pairing: idol!Jungkook x female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: smut, idol!au

☆warnings: unedited, curses, explicit content: masturbation. that's it, that's the whole thing. Cumshot on his hand tattoos. Jungkook is hella horny for reader and jerks off thinking about her - fantasies of oral sex (male and female receiving), of unprotected sex, of rough sex, of hickeys and marking (scratches on the back), of shower sex, of spanking, of choking, of creampies, of clit play, of fingering and squirting. Multiple orgasms, lowkey pain kink and praise kink (let me know if I forgot something)

☆word count: 1.8k (I think it's the shortest thing I've ever written on here lmao)

☆a/n: pure unedited sins bc mr jeon jungkook makes me horny despite being in the army. hope this doesn't disappoint lmaooo thank you to @wintaerbaer for her help with the banner (it would have been a horrible mess without your guidance) and for encouraging me to write this!! love you Ari <3333

☆☆☆☆☆

You’re driving him insane.

You. Are. Driving. Him. Insane.

Insane.

Every time Jungkook sees you at the gym, he goes insane. Completely, utterly, insane. He thinks there has to be a better word in the dictionary to describe what you do to him but, alas, he can’t find it.

So insane it is, and he tries to live up to the name.

He’s been home for five minutes, and he’s already in his bed, dick so hard he thinks it’ll explode. Because of course you had to be doing squats today, in those way too tight biker shorts that leave nothing to the imagination. Your thick ass, stretching the fabric so much he thinks he spied a thong underneath…

Jungkook grunts, hiding his eyes behind his arm, trying to erase the picture from his mind. But he can’t. You’re everywhere – behind his closed eyelids, or a ghost in his room when he opens his eyes again.

It’s been that way since the very first day he saw you at the gym. Jungkook caught sight of you and immediately had a boner, which hadn’t happened to him since he was a teenager. He’s a grown man, for fuck’s sake, yet the sight of you turns him on far more than anything ever has.

You’re just… perfect. Too hot, your body perfectly sculpted by the hours you spend at the gym every week. Jungkook dreams of dragging his hands, his tongue, on every inch of your body. Of caressing your hard-earned muscles, of gripping the meat of your ass…

Of grinding into you and hearing the little breathy moans he’s sure that you make in the thralls of passion.

Fuck.

If he’s honest, he would have fucked you that first time. Would have approached you and charmed you, seduced you until he’d have you writhing under his body. But one look – one damn look – at your keychain, and he knew you were off limits.

The bright pink Kooky plushie hanging from the keychain was a firm reminder that he cannot approach you, ever. Indeed, he doesn’t mix pleasure with work, which is starting to prove increasingly hard as he gets more famous, and as his fans grow way too numerous.

As his fans, as you pretend that you don’t recognize him when you go to the gym, even though he catches you looking at him all the time. Yet he can’t approach you, won’t approach you, ever. But nothing stops him from exploring his dirty little fantasies, whenever he wraps his hand around his cock…

Jungkook grunts, and he decides to take manners into his own hands, literally. He wishes it’d be your hand, gripping his cock once he’s pushed his shorts and underwear down. Wishes you’d hold him tight as you’d jerk him off slowly, eyes never leaving his.

He imagines you taking him in your mouth. Your plump lips, wrapping around the tip of his cock, sucking once as he’d fist your hair, restraining himself from thrusting in your mouth. Or maybe you’d give him the go to fuck your mouth, to unleash himself on you…

Jungkook moans, and he jerks himself off, slowly. Eyes closed as he imagines everything he wants you to do to him, everything he wants to do to you. His hand is not nearly enough to pleasure him, not when he’s been craving you the way that he has…

But it’ll make do.

Spitting in his other hand, Jungkook holds his dick up to rub the natural lube on the head of his cock. He winces – he’s already so damn sensitive… Probably because he’s sported a semi since he saw you at the gym.

Who gave you the right to go to the gym in those shorts, with only a sports bra to pair with them? You looked devilish, downright sinful, and you’ve dragged him to hell.

Once his dick is lubed up, glistening in the dim light from the hallway because he sure as hell didn’t have time to turn the lights on in his room, Jungkook strokes himself, slowly. Tattooed fingers firmly wrapped around his cock, just the way he likes it – right under the tip, hard enough to hurt just a little bit.

Hard enough to make him wish he was fucking your tight pussy instead. He imagines the drag of your walls on his dick, on his veins and on the ridge of his tip. He imagines your breasts bouncing up and down as you’d ride him, and then your face, contorted in pleasure, as he’d jackhammer into you.

He’s had noise complaints from his neighbours once, because of the loud singing he does once in a while, when he goes live for his fans. Right now, he wishes he’d get a noise complaint because they’d hear him fucking you good, fucking you until you’d crumble into ecstasy.

He picks up the pace on his dick, free hand grabbing at the white sheet of his bed. Would you be the type to moan unabashedly loud? To say his name when you come, when your walls flutter on his dick?

The thought makes his dick twitch in his hand, and Jungkook grunts again, curses underneath his breath. He doesn’t even know your name, but he sure as hell knows he’d come with your name a litany on his lips, a sinful melody he’d sing just for you to hear.

Would you drag your nails on his back, marking him so that the world knows you’re his? Would you suck on his neck, leave hickeys behind that he’d have to hide under foundation? Would you beg for him, or would you be a brat?

He wants you to be a brat. He wants to have to put you back into your place, to spank your ass and choke you until all you know is his name. He’d be feral with you – he’s feral just thinking about you. And maybe one day he’ll betray his number one rule, maybe one day he’ll fuck you into the night, hear you cry with pleasure as he’d pump his load inside of you…

His imagination is running wild, and his pace on his dick is relentless, unforgiving. His bicep burns already, even though he’s barely started. Or maybe he’s just too lost in his fantasies, losing track of time. But he doesn’t care – he’d lose track of time fucking you, too.

“Fuck,” he moans, eyes closed tightly, eyebrows bunched together as if in pain. But he’s not hurting – he feels way too good, the pleasure running through his blood a symphony every cell inside of him is addicted to.

You’re just too beautiful to him. He’d fucking crawl on his knees for you, or maybe he’d make you crawl. He’d force you to crawl, to beg for him, to…

Jungkook grunts loudly, his orgasm hitting so hard it feels like a trainwreck. He doesn’t slow down his pace on his dick right away, letting his cum spurt out and drip on his fingers, on the back of his hand. He doesn’t even care if he makes a mess – he’s lost to his pleasure, and he doesn’t want to come back to sanity. He wants to stay insane, and so he drags his orgasm out, milks it out of himself.

And he comes a lot, painting his whole fucking hand white. He’d think it to be disgusting, but when he looks down at his hand, fuzzy from his blissed-out pupils, he sees that he’s covered his tattoos with cum. His army tattoo – the closest he’ll get to come on you. He curses at the sight, hates that it’s turning him on again and that his dick twitches, begging for more. But all he does is watch the cum – it covers the three first letters, but it’s slowly dripping towards the y, and soon the whole tattoo will be covered, like he fucking wishes your pussy would be covered with his cum, dripping with it. He’d finger you with it.

Fucking hell.

Jungkook gives in to the unrelenting desire once he’s in the shower, trying to clean himself. A single thought of your thick ass and the stretched fabric of your biker shorts sends him back to square one, and he jerks himself off again, fast and hard, his free hand leaning on the wall. He’s quick to shift and put his forearm against the wall instead, hiding his face in his arm. And then he imagines fucking you in this shower, taking you from behind as your ass cheeks shake from his ministrations. He imagines you trying to find purchase on the wall, your hands slipping until he pulls you back into his chest. He’d hold you tight, wrap a hand around your neck, and he’d find your clit with his other hand.

He’d make you come so fucking hard. All night long. He doesn’t think he’d let you even fucking walk out of his apartment. He’d fuck you seven days a week, wouldn’t even leave his bed.

This time, his release hits differently, not as strong. It still fills his blood with ecstasy, and his head swims as he watches his cum go down the drain. His hand, his tattoos, are mostly clean this time around, and he imagines them covered in your cum instead. In your sleek juices as he’d finger you, making you squirt everywhere…

He curses loudly, turning the shower to cold, immediately wincing as the water hits his back. But it’s the only way he thinks he’ll manage to chase his arousal away. Hell, he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his fucking evening masturbating. Though it’d be worth it, and he’s fully aware that he’d be able to. He’d just need to think of you, and he’d be ready to go again.

But when he steps out of the shower, he decides otherwise. He decides to go live – are you watching him, from wherever it is that you live in this city? Do you know that you make him insane, so, so insane that he just came twice to the thought of you?

He smirks, watching the comments coming in even though he hasn’t said anything yet. They fly too fast for him to be able to read anything, but he knows.

He knows that you’re there, on the other side of the screen, watching him as he watches you. Where else would you be?

And he knows damn well that next time he’ll see you, he’ll talk to you. Fuck the rules, fuck the fact that you’re his fan. He needs to fuck you, to know what your pussy taste like and how you sound when you come.

So next time he sees you, instead of jerking himself off alone, Jungkook knows he’ll ask you to give a helping hand.

☆☆☆☆☆

Welcome to the land of sinning lmao hope you enjoyed this short ride! Let me know what you thought - it always motivates me to write more stuff like this ;)

#to give a helping hand #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #btswritersclub

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writerpetals · 1 year

Text

date with a vampire | 🔞

; optional male lead smut | ☁️

// vampire!au , unprotected vampire sex

When your best friend tells you the news that she has someone new to set you up on your second blind date that month, you resist the urge to scoff with a roll of your eyes. Not that you don’t appreciate her efforts, knowing she only wants you to find someone nice, and she is probably sick of hearing you whine any time the two of you go out and you begin to cry about never meeting anyone worthwhile.

“Does he have kids he hasn’t seen in years?” you question as you stir the spoon in the mug in front of you while staring out the window of the small coffee shop, a lack of confidence this time around because you don’t want to waste your time with something that will go nowhere. “Is he over the age of fifty?”

“No to the first question, and…” She hesitates as she tucks loose strands of hair behind her ear before reaching for her own mug, taking a sip and fidgeting in her seat.. Of course she hesitates. There’s always the hesitation before she drops the bomb on you, and usually it’s after your first date, leaving you to either have the awkward conversation that it won’t work out, or feel like a jerk for avoiding phone calls and texts. “He might be… a little older.”

From her tone, you know what’s coming next. She’s either talking about a potential sugar daddy, or something less than human. It’s not like it’s any secret supernatural creatures have been coexisting with humans for far longer than the world has known about them, and growing up with the news that such beings existed has you nonchalant to the fact. You don’t plan on discriminating against them any time soon considering most only want to live peacefully like any other human, and she even dates one herself. Maybe it’s how she met this new potential candidate, and even though you try not to, you find yourself groaning at the news.

“He’s a-” She leans closer to whisper. “-vampire.”

“Why are you whispering?” You chuckle at that, watching a grin appear on her lips. “And I told you before, I’m not so sure about dating a vampire, or werewolf, or any other kind of man that can suck the life out of me in more ways than one.”

She giggles and shakes her head while picking at the muffin in front of her. “Well my girlfriend is a werewolf,” she reminds you, though you assume her girlfriend is a rare exception.

You went months without knowing her true self, and you would have never guessed her to be a wolf if you didn’t walk in on her shifting back to her human form one morning your best friend and you were scheduled for a coffee date. That was the morning you lost the spare “just in case” key to her apartment, and also the week the two of them moved in together. Not that you could ever complain. The two are happy, and as her best friend, you’re happy. You just wish she wouldn’t try so desperately to spread her happiness by setting you up on blind dates.

“There’s nothing wrong with dating them. They deserve happiness just like everyone else and-”

“I know, I know,” you interrupt her before she starts on one of her long-winded speeches. “Of course I don’t think there is anything wrong with them, I just don’t think they are… for me. I’m already bad enough at human dates.”

She sighs, slumping her shoulders, and you know she is going to guilt trip you into agreeing. “Just give it a try?” Her brows arch, bottom lip protruding. “If it goes horribly, blame it on me and I swear I will never set you up again, but…”

“But?” You admit defeat by humoring her.

“But I swear you’re going to love him!” Her eyes light up, a wide grin spreading over her face. “He’s good looking, polite, incredibly charming! Oh, and he owns his own tattoo shop!”

“Tattoo shop?” You have a hard time hiding your grin. “Did you really set me up on a date with some wild tattooed vampire that’s older than the two of us combined?” She chuckles at that, not bothering to answer the question.

***

Friday night arrives quicker than you expected, and maybe part of it is because you have been dreading the date night all week. You hoped you wouldn’t find yourself wishing it was over before it begins as you set eyes on the restaurant you agreed to meet him at, but it’s only natural after so many failed attempts at her finding Mr. Right for you.

Your eyes scan the bright yellow lights flashing with a special price of both human and vampire menu items, knowing places that cater to both have popped up more and more over the last few years as a way to calm the tension between the two. Though the items on the menu are questionable, you were happy to agree to an affordable place to go dutch. If the date turns sour, you can at least throw a few bills on the table and make a quick exit. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Though it is the first time you have been set up with a supernatural being. Or, at least the first you’re aware of, and your heart races as you enter the restaurant to tell the hostess your name. She smiles wide, showing off two pointed fangs to have your heart sinking into a twisting stomach, guiding you over to the table where you date is apparently already waiting on you.

The moment she steps aside, your sights fall on the man settled in the chair at the small table before you. His gaze rises to meet your eyes, and you aren’t sure whether to stare at his shy smile, the fact that he has no hints of fangs anywhere, or his tongue darting out the moment he licks his lips as he takes in the sight of you. Gulping, you nod to the waitress before she takes off, and then you take your seat across from him before he can stand out of politeness, smoothing your hands over your skirt and flashing a subtle smile.

He says in a deeper voice than you expected, grin widening, and as you tell him your name, he leans closer, never taking his eyes off of you. “It’s nice to meet you finally. She said you were cute, but I wasn't expecting this cute. Beautiful, actually.”

The heat rushes to your cheeks from the compliment, realizing vampires must be much more forward than guys your own age, but you try not to let his words get to you. You also try not to think about your best friend hyping you up so much, not wanting to deal with the consequences of being a disappointment if you didn’t live up to her generous praises.

“Thanks,” you tell him, eyes falling to your hands in your lap for a moment while hating the fact that your friend talks so much. Though, you have to admit she was right. He is charming, and good looking, and you will see as the night goes on if he is as polite as she promised. Any guy can sweet talk you, and you weren't born yesterday. “You must say that to all the girls,” you tease him, watching a wide smile appear on his face.

“I don't, actually,” he admits just as the waiter arrives at your table, waiting on you to order a water while your date tells him the blood type of his choice. For a moment, you forgot he isn't even human, only aware of the fact when you realize he's ordering blood and not a cocktail. “I have to be honest.”

Here we go, you think. “Honest is good,” you tell him, causing him to chuckle.

“I don't usually do this.” You refrain from raising your brows or pursing your lips. It's not like it's the first time you have heard that line before. “But she promised I wouldn’t regret it, and she told me we would hit it off and-”

“She likes to say a lot of things before she’s sure of them,” you interrupt, but the grin on his face admits he takes no offense. “She told me the same thing. And I don’t usually do this, either, even though she bugs me all the time.”

“Oh really?” The vampire perks up, grinning and flashing points of his sharp fangs. Your heart beats twice as fast, then you curse yourself knowing he can probably hear it. “What made you change your mind tonight?”

You can’t help but to smile. Damn her for being correct in the fact that he is really charming. You could melt looking at his smile alone.

“I don’t know… you know what they say. You only live once.”

“Well… actually…”

Suddenly, you’re bursting into a fit of laughter. Your vampire date smiles wider, and before you know it the two of you are cruising into comfortable, casual conversation. He tells you about his job owning a tattoo shop. You tell him about your favorite movies and books. He indulges in a few stories from his human life and you give in and tell him something embarrassing from the fifth grade. As the night goes on, you’re less and less focused on that fact you’re on ablind date with a vampire, and only feeling the natural connection between the two of you. He is charming, and handsome, and you don’t remember the last time you laughed this much.

You never thought it would be so easy to tell him little tidbits about your life and even silly, embarrassing stories. You never imagined yourself sitting for a long time even after dinner was finished listening to him tell you his adventures in different cities and late night exploring where humans don’t usually venture. The conversation grows so natural, it almost feels as if you’ve known him for a while.

“It was so nice getting to know you,” you tell him as the two of you walk from the restaurant onto the quiet street. Part of you wishes the night wasn’t over so soon, but looking at the time on your phone, you realized it’s been a few hours talking to the vampire. You didn’t even realize it was so late.

“Same here. I, uh…”

“Do you…”

You both begin to mumble and stutter and beat around the bush because neither of you wants to say goodbye. Sure, you’ve had your attractions to first dates in the past, but never have you felt so much desire to keep the night alive.

“Do you want to go back to my place?” you ask before biting your bottom lip. You’ve never been so forward, especially not on a first date. This vampire is drawing you in, you realize. Not only do you feel at ease with him, you suddenly feel hot and bothered at the thought of getting him alone. What would it be like with him? What would it feel like? Never would you have imagined yourself so worked over a funny, charming vampire, but here you are. Inviting him into your bed after one very long, very fun dinner date.

No, not the bed, you try to convince yourself. Just to get to know him more.

“I would love to,” he replies with a smirk, making your heart beat harder once again.

Shit, your curse at yourself. He can definitely hear it.

He extends his hand, showing a hint of tattooed skin beneath the sleeve of his jacket. It only takes a second for your palm to slip against him while wondering if he got those tattoos in his human life, leading the short walk to your place.

Suddenly you stop, however, turning to look at him. “Um…” You hesitate as he looks on with curious eyes widening. “Whatever happens… please, don’t bite me.”

Without thinking twice, he throws his head back in laughter, giving your hand a little squeeze after the few seconds it takes him to calm down. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he says, leaning in closer to whisper, “biting is no fun unless you’re enjoying it.”

***

You can barely make it inside before your lips are on his. His hands on you. Chests pressing together and you attempting to press yourself against his thigh where you need him most. It was like a snap of a finger, a flip of a switch. The more you talk to this vampire, the more you desire dancing dangerously close to the edge.

Now your back is pressed to your door. He pins you against wood with the weight of his own body, yet he’s still so careful, gentle.

“Do you have a key, sweetheart?” he questions between moments of his lips against your neck. “Or do you like giving the neighborhood a show?”

Again, you’re giggling before you’re moaning, feeling his tongue slip across your flesh with ease. “Pocket…” is all you can manage to get out. Your mind is in a whirlwind because of this man… no, this vampire. And the longer you’re in his presence the less you care about any danger or even the fact that he’s not human. Your body aches for him, desperate to see what he’s really made of. The need to experience something so otherworldly urges you to continue as he digs around in your coat pocket for your key.

Before you know it the two of you are stumbling into your home. The door barely shuts behind you before your back is against its wooden panels once again. Fingers pluck at buttons and zippers while his mouth explores your own in the process. Heat swells between your legs, eager to remove the clothing in the way to feel his skin against your own.

“Please,” you gasp, feeling his tongue gliding over the heavy pulse in your neck, “hurry.” Your fingers tug on the bottom of his t-shirt after his jacket falls to the floor, and he gets the hint by lifting the fabric over his head to toss aside. You quickly notice the dark ink covering his skin. The lines and swirls and designs painted on his flesh cover both arms and part of his chest. It stops briefly in your tracks, taking in the sight of this vampire, hot and heavy just for you, staring down at you like you’re his next meal.

And you very well might be, but you couldn't care less. Your body’s desire takes over all rationale and you’re pulling him in again. He tugs on your own clothes as he guides you toward the nearest surface. Fabric falls to the floor just as your thighs bump into the thick, wooden sides of your dining room table.

The moment your hands reach inside his jeans, the vampire inhales a sharp breath and a pop of his fangs jutting from their hiding place grabs your attention. Your palm rests on the thick bulge of his cock as you let the sight of the fine tipped points sink in. Shiny and threatening under the pale light of the moon’s glow sinking into your home, you realize it doesn't bother you in the least bit. He’s been funny and charming and sweet thus far, and now you’re dying for him to be anything but.

With a gentle push, you slip his jeans and underwear down his hips, revealing a thick, aching cock ready for you to play with. Giving it a simple, soft stroke with your palm, the vampire shudders a breath and closes his eyes. Maybe he isn’t so strong and scary, after all.

A smirk grows on your lips and it doesn’t take him long to realize how much you’re enjoying the power you have over him in the moment. Without warning, he grabs your hips to flip your body over, bare chest pressing to the table, naked ass on display for him.

“I can’t let you have all the fun, sweetheart,” he groans in your ear a moment before his hand slips between your thighs. Fingers caress over your swollen and needy folds, feeling the arousal dripping from your center before you’ve barely been touched.

“I thought… we were both having fun,” you tease him between gulps, giggling before a whimper slips from your lips the moment he finds your clit. It’s aching and dying to be touched, not taking long at all for your knees to be quivering. He offers a few gentle circles while chuckling in your ear.

“Of course,” he reassures you, finding your words amusing, “but feeling you shake with need against me is more fun, don’t you think?”

“Y-Yes…” You can barely get the reply out as he sinks a finger into your pussy, causing your eyes to screw shut as you take in the feel of him adding another. “Please…” Your back lowers and your ass arches to greet his touch, wanting more, inviting him in.

“You want more, sweetheart?” he asks so casually it almost makes you nervous. “Want my cock or my tongue?”

Your head spins for a moment as you take in the possibilities. Legs quivering already from just his fingers pumping so slowly, carefully in and out of you, you decide you want it all.

“God…” You squeeze your dripping cunt around the digits pushing inside of you. “Yes… more… anything…”

You know future you will be embarrassed by the relentless begging for this vampire, but in the moment you only want to experience all of him. Quickly, he removes his hand from between your thighs and drops to his knees behind you. Two palms press to your ass before a simple swipe of his tongue over your wet, aching pussy draws out the neediest whine of his name from your body.

“Oh… fuck…” you cry out, feeling his tongue tease your clit for a moment before dipping inside to lick up the juices spilling out. Then he traces a delicious line back to the swollen bud, circling it with the point of his tongue before wrapping his lips around and giving your flesh a gentle kiss. “Oh… Jesus Christ, that feels so…” You can’t finish the sentence before you’re gasping and moaning into the cool air.

You feel the vibrations of his chuckle against your flesh as he continues toying with your clit, tasting your pussy, drawing you closer to the edge.

“So wet, sweetheart,” he mumbles, pressing another kiss to your flesh before licking from your clit to your entrance, “tastes so good.”

Your body shivers from the deepened, darkened tone of his words. Desire drips from every word between fucking you with his tongue. Heat builds inside of you, coating on the edge of bliss every time he draws his tongue toward your clit to massage your flesh in a way that drives you wild. The grip of his palms on your ass gets tighter, adding to the pleasure as your knees begin to buckle.

It doesn’t take long for your pleasure to come crashing down around you. Warm bliss swells from between your thighs thanks to his diligent tongue. Legs shaking, lips spilling curses and whimpers, you come against his mouth as he continues tasting every drop. Even after your pleasure has subsided, he teases a few final circles around your clit, making your shiver and jerk your hips in response.

“Holy shit…” you curse with a sleepy chuckle, wondering if you should mention anything holy in his presence because what the two of you just did was anything but. You hear him groan at the sight of you still bent over, dripping from bliss and opening and waiting for him.

“Ready for my cock, sweetheart?’ he asks in more of a groan than anything else, and all you can do is whimper a subtle ‘please’ as he wraps one arm around your naked body. He holds you close while you feel the tip of his cock pressing to your cunt, running it up and down your slit to coat his flesh in your previous bliss. “I want to feel you come again while I’m inside you. Feel how tight you can squeeze around me.”

His words send a shiver racing down your spine. You’re hot all over again for him, realizing you want exactly the same thing, and he’s going to give it to you. Slowly, carefully, he sinks his cock deep into your soaked cunt, messy noises filling the dining room to mix with the moans you have no desire to hold back.

‘Oh… Oh my God…” Your head falls back, eyes closed, taking in the way you take in his cock, how it feels inside of you, deep and hard and oh so mind-numbing.

“Fuck,” he groans behind you, hand rising to cup your bare breast. He squeezes it gently before sliding his thumb over your hardened nipple. “Feel so good… so wet, baby.”

His voice is strained, dark, and deep against your ear. He can no longer stall as he pulls his hips away, only to pump his cock back into you. A surge of heat rushes through your body at the motion. Your legs quiver. Your mind tunnels in on the pressure building inside of you once again. So full of this vampire. His cock so deep inside your pussy. His grip on you strengthens, holding you still while falling into a whimper inducing rhythm.

“Please,” you grasp out, saying the words before you can stop yourself. “B-Bite me, please.”

He stalls his motions. His eyes lock into yours, searching your face for any uncertainty. For a moment, you think he will comply. His fangs are fully extended from the pleasure of filling you up. No doubt he’s hungry and horny and ready to feed and fuck.

But he simply shakes his head. “You asked me not to.”

You grin, wiggling your ass against him to let him know to keep going. He slowly falls into his previous pace.

“That was earlier, uninformed me,” you tell him, struggling to breathe through the words as your lashes flutter and your head rolls back again. “Now I know how good it feels being with you. I want… want more.”

“Then more,” he begins, snapping his hips against your ass to fuck you harder, “is what you will, sweetheart, but I will not go back on my word.”

With that, his hand snakes around your neck, the other pressing to your hip to guide your body forward. His pace quickens, rolling himself into you to earn every moan spilling from your lips.

“Touch yourself,” he commands, a dangerous hint of threat at the tip of his tongue to work you up even further, “slip your hand between your thighs and play with your pussy for me.”

You obey him without a second thought. Your hand falls between your legs, fingers quickly finding your clit to do as he says. The pleasure is overwhelming, heat filling every inch, legs quivering, all while he fucks you from behind. The blissful cries spilling from your lips only encourage him further. Nasty words fill the space between the two of you, telling you how good you feel, begging you to come on his cock.

It doesn’t take long to spill over the edge. Coming undone as pleasure swells throughout your body. A warm, muscle soothing sensation filling you up as your walls squeeze round the vampire’s length. He groans behind you feeling you come on his cock, continuing to pump himself into you until he’s losing himself to the moment as well.

He holds you tighter as he finds his own end. Fingers leave indentations against your flesh, tattooed arms pulling you closer every second until he begins to come down from the high. His motions slow. Your heavy breaths fill the room. Legs still shaky, he quickly gets the hint as he turns your body and wraps you in his arms.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, but press his lip softly to your own before you have time to answer.

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” you reply in a fit of overwhelming, bliss-filled giggles. He laughs as well, offering another tender kiss to your lips. “Never would have I imagined…”

“What? That it could be so fun?’

“... feel so good,” you add, grinning and wrapping arms around his neck. “I… Why didn’t you-”

“Bite you?’ he completes your thought. “You asked me not to.”

“But then I asked you to.”

He smirks, stroking your cheek with his knuckles before replying. “Well, it will be even more fun when I get to taste you in other ways next time.”

#bts smut #marvel smut #call of duty smut #twilight smut #harry potter smut #jungkook smut #loki smut #nct smut #got7 smut #monsta x smut #stray kids smut #harry styles smut #ghost smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #x reader #x reader smut

503 notes · View notes

highvern · 2 months

Text

Between the Titles

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, smut (mature/18+)

warnings: egregious caffeine consumption, yoongi smokes cigarettes, reader is about the same height as yoongi (its me hello im almost the same height as him), gay taehyung, volunteer jungkook, silver fox yoongi (he just has some gray hair bc hot) smut warnings: making out, grinding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), semi-public sexual acts, bathroom sex, protected sex, praise kink

Length: ~9.5k

Note: no thoughts, just big brain yoongi in a sweater smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. btw almost all the books in this are real but i haven't read them so if you have lmk if they're worth the read lmao. thank u to my dearest @gyuswhore and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing this

Summary: Five days a week in the library means you're very familiar with the senior research librarian. It also means he has no qualms about making his own book recommendations either.

m.list + support my work

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

The sweet aroma of old books and strong coffee infiltrates your nose as the heavy doors into the library swing open, offering reprieve from the storm raging on outside. It’s far too early for anyone to be here beyond staff and a few other morning birds. You glide right to the circulation desk as if fatigue doesn’t pulse through your veins, barely quelled by the second cup of coffee you sip from.

As always, the same familiar head of dark hair with sparse silver streaks waits at the circulation desk. He’s the only person working this early despite being the senior research librarian but you never hear any complaints louder than muttered annoyance under his breath when he thinks no one is around to hear. Bent over his laptop, Yoongi doesn’t even bother to look up as he slides a heavy stack of books to the edge of the counter.

Eleven total, ten heavy volumes on ancient fertility cults across the globe, and one book you know he’s mixed in for his own amusement.

It’s become something of a game between you two. At first you thought he was mixing your materials with someone else’s, but every time you brought the additional copy back to his desk, Yoongi insisted he had no idea what you were talking about and questioned your reading choices. Each time the titles got more ridiculous: Castration: The Advantages and the Disadvantages, How to Enjoy Your Weeds, Amish Vampires in Space, the list goes on and on. But after he slipped Why Fish Don’t Exist into your stack a few weeks ago, you decided to start responding.

You left the stack at his desk like usual, ears perked for his reaction to Fishes I Have Known. An amused snort rang out just as you opened the doors to leave for the afternoon. The sound was so unlike the stoic man you’d become accustomed to over months working on your thesis; not that you heard him talk much to begin with.

Since then you’ve made a point to match every book he leaves for you. Yesterday, Yoongi chose I Could Pee on This: and Other Poems by Cats. At the end of the day, you spent thirty minutes searching shelf after shelf for an appropriate response, every book failing to meet your expectations. It wasn’t fair he knew the expansive collection like the back of his hand but nevertheless you found something up to par.

Yoongi rolled his eyes when you passed your books over the counter, a copy of Staying Dry: A Practical Guide to Bladder Control, like a shining star on top. A brief pink of his tongue flashed across his lips, a feeble attempt to muffle an amused smile. It was the most obvious reaction since the first time you responded.

Smiling like the cat who ate the canary, you left on clouds last night.

But this morning you have notes to write.

Snagging the collection, you make your way deeper into the building. Your unassigned-assigned desk tucked away on the fifth floor, far enough away from any noise so you can fully immerse in work without the threat of distraction. An uninterrupted view of the courtyard below is an added bonus.

The wooden table top is covered in a neat collection of pens and sticky notes in minutes; your laptop and the foot tall collection of references you devour over the next eight hours taking up the other half.

A few titles you request over and over sit on top, too valuable to be checked out for long term use so you settle for keeping them in constant rotation since no one else bothers to read the dusty yellowing tombs. For now, you focus on the new pieces you hope hold the information you need.

Earth rites: fertility practices in pre-industrial Britain, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in the Ancient Mediterranean, Metamorphosis of Baubo: myths of woman's sexual energy—

I’m in Love with Mothman…

Well there it is.

You thumb across the glossy cartoon cover, failing to bite back a smile. Yoongi has a penchant for tossing in the most outlandish romance books he can find. Maybe because he knows you spend just as much if not more time than he does between the stacks. The suggestion box at the desk was full of cards stained with your penmanship asking for longer hours; several of which you’ve seen Yoongi rip in half as he pointedly met your gaze.

Tossing it aside, you pull forward one of the more musty books and start reading.

When you finally manage to resurface from laborious tales on several cults of Aphrodite, the rain is long gone. Even the darkest corners of the old building seem to glow gold in the evening sunset filtering through the glass doors. They're the only thing standing between you and freedom in the form curling up on your couch with a glass of wine and a new episode of your favorite reality dating show. But first, Yoongi needs his books back.

His desk chair is abandoned and the return cart is gone as well which means he could be anywhere in the building. Disappointment leaches into your spine at the fact you won’t be able to witness his reaction to the twelfth book in your pile; the one you spent an extra fifteen minutes looking for in the corner of the third floor.

A thick piece of library paper lists the materials you’ll need for the next day lays atop the neon green cover of Pest Management Solutions: How to Manage Your Moth Problem. They decorate the corner of the desk until Yoongi returns to find them. Hopefully he appreciates your humor.

Yoongi isn’t at his desk the next morning when you come in either. Instead, a doe eyed man with a lip piercing occupies the chair, clearly playing some game on his laptop.

Approaching the counter, you begin to ask, “Where’s Yoon–”

“Staff meeting,” he interjects like he’s already answered the question a million times despite the library opening only five minutes ago. The white of his teeth threaten to blind you. “But I can help you!”

His name tag isn’t the same engraved golden metal Yoongi’s is, it’s a plastic sleeve with a paper insert with barely legible handwriting you decipher as “Jungkook” and below “Volunteer.” You’ve seen him before from a distance. Usually trudging through the shelves with the book return cart in tow, occasionally taking a quick read inside before putting them in their rightful place.

“I need to pick up some books. I gave Yoongi the list yesterday.”

“Sure.” Jungkook jumps up, approaching the shelf lined with piles for other patrons. “What’s your last name?”

He combs through the list after you answer, finding your stack easily enough.

“Alright so Yoongi left a note that the encyclopedias you wanted are on the usual desk you have upstairs. But other than that I’ve got: Historical Studies of Changing Fertility, Sacred Mushroom and The Cross, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in The Ancient Mediterranean…” Jungkook lists off the titles, checking to make sure they're all in order. “And, um, this one isn’t on the list.”

It must be Yoongi’s choice for the day.

“What is it?”

Jungkook looks like he’s trying to hide his own amusement as he slides it over for you to read.

If I Were a Bird, You'd be The First Person I'd Shit On.

“Huh,” you blush. “Wonder how that got in there.”

“He must have left it by mistake. I can put it ba–”

“No, I’ll take it.” You toss it on top of the other, less embarrassing books in your stack and gather it into your arms before Jungkook can get in another word. “Thanks for your help!”

Scurrying towards the hallway housing the elevators, you attempt to juggle the pile of books, your stuffed bag, and coffee without taking a spill. It’s one thing to have your silent battle with Yoongi, but having someone else witness it makes you feel downright silly. And for the first one witnessed by others to be such an absurd and downright passive aggressive selection sends embarrassment through your veins.

As promised, three encyclopedias sit neatly on your desk; the volumes so thick they protrude from the table top like a small mountain. No wonder he left them there instead of making you carry them up in individual trips. But Yoongi’s goodwill clearly ended there. A sticky note on top of the stack pens his discontent at your selection.

I had to spend 3 hours in the basement to find these. If you need them again, don’t.

Even though he hadn’t signed it, you know it’s from him. The tight script fits his personality; thin lines of annoyance bleeding through the ink, not just his words. A waft of musty old paper and dust breezes through your nose as you open the first copy. They must have been housed in a forgotten storage area. At least his bird book makes more sense now.

You don’t dig into the heap until after the sun is halfway through the sky but when you do it only proves to unravel your wits. Reading on, the wrinkle in your eyebrows deepens further. Page after page of conflicting knowledge passes by, each sentence more confusing than the last; minutes negating months of research. The thick pages hardly provide a soft landing for your head as you allow it to thump forward in exasperation.

The scrap of chair legs alerts to a new presence watching your meltdown in real time.

“Something wrong?” Yoongi asks.

With a heavy sigh, you respond.“I want to die.”

“Get in line.”

Shifting in your seat, you peer in his direction. A different day but the same wardrobe: dark button up, glasses, same unapproachable facade. But what Yoongi is doing sitting next to you is new.

Yoongi makes himself comfortable, picking at his nails as he waits patiently for an explanation.

“Everything in my thesis is either wrong or the world authority on fertility in Europe is full of it.”

“Bummer.”

“Your sincerity is overwhelming.” You snap.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. Boredom seeps across his face but he doesn’t move to leave, just sinks deeper into the chair. “You’ve read almost half the collection since you started coming here, why are some old dusty books such a big deal?”

“Because all of those books cite these books which means those books are wrong and all my work is in the toilet.”

“Those books are from the seventies, the information is probably out of date.”

Slamming the copy serving as a pillow shut, you take a second glance at the title: Encyclopedia of Women and World Religion, Volume 7.

“Yoongi,” you sing.

Yoongi’s gaze flashes to yours, a trickle of confusion flashing across his eyes.“What?”

You stack up the books and push them across the desk with some effort. Just to savor the satisfaction of besting Yoongi, you indulge a long sip of now cold coffee before speaking again. No one else is around to witness your victory but that won’t dampen the high.

“Looks like you’ll be back in the basement because you brought me the wrong editions.”

He opens his mouth to argue, snatching one of the books to investigate but you beat him to the punch.

“I asked for the twenty-fifth edition, not the seventh.” You smirk. “I think you're losing your touch.”

He watches you over the rim of the cover. A fleeting glance in your direction but it makes your heart squeeze with need.

“Well, I guess you’re right,” Yoongi sighs, standing. “Do you still need them for anything or can I go ahead and take them?”

With your approval, he heaves the heavy tombs on to his cart. The strain of his forearms, bare from rolled up sleeves, catches your attention. Veins raised under creamy skin, lean muscles leading down to hands you’ve noticed since the first day you started visiting the library.

If you keep staring, you’re likely to start drooling. So you dive back into one of the useful books littering your desk and pretend to read until he’s disappearing down the hall.

On your way out, leaving much earlier than a typical day due to Yoongi’s mistake, you drop the remaining books off at the circulation desk. Along with a copy of Avian Hunting Techniques. He’s absent again but it doesn't matter.

You continue out the doors and down the sidewalk only to spot him leaning against the brick exterior further down the street. Even from a distance you can make out the natural scowl he’s constantly sporting. Except this time his lips pout around a cigarette.

Of course he smokes.

The quasi-mysterious librarian who flirts with you through book titles, smokes cigarettes and looks hot doing it.

“You know those things will kill you, right?”

“That’s what the box says but they aren’t holding up their end of the deal,” Yoongi responds, flicking the ash before looking at his watch. “Wow, out before six. I’ll alert the press.”

“Well, if someone gave me the right books then maybe I’d stay longer. But I’m not about to wait around while you get the ones I need.”

Yoongi takes another drag of his cigarette before responding, “Are you trying to say I forced you to take a break?”

The realization dawns on you. Yoongi is the senior research librarian. He’s never given you the wrong books, even when you request the rare copies needed to be loaned from a different part of the country. The few times you’ve offered understanding if he couldn’t get them were met with a challenge in his gaze and smug satisfaction when handing them over a week later.

“You brought me the wrong copies on purpose!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s lying. You know it. Yoongi definitely knows you know by the way he smirks. But he’s already crushing the filter under his shoe and moving back towards the library by the time your brain catches up to your mouth. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

With a scoff of indignation, you stalk towards your car.

The next morning, you march straight through the class doors to where Yoongi sits, fueled by snowballed annoyance from the previous day. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed is an understatement. If there are any gods, Yoongi should pick one and pray.

Your free afternoon of yesterday was spent dealing with the chaos your apartment has become over the past few weeks. Unfolded laundry, stacks of random papers, out of place books, and errant dust bunnies all became new victims to energy usually reserved for a full day of research. Taehyung practically shit himself when he woke up before dinner and found you scrubbing the bathroom sink.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, hand to his chest like a flustered old woman.

Bleach curled in your nostrils. “I live here.”

“Not between the hours of eight and seven.”

But after the mess was dealt with, aggravation set in. How dare Yoongi purposefully meddle in your work. Well meaning or not you were an adult and could decide when enough was enough. The purposeful mishap hadn’t set you back far, one afternoon but a drop in the bucket in comparison to the months you’ve already spent chasing new leads. But the principle of the matter is that it’s none of his business what you do and when you do it.

Yoongi slides a slimmer stack over when you stop in front of him.

“Encyclopedias are on your desk,” he announces through a sip of coffee. He continues to type away, feigning disinterest as you sort through your stack with measured annoyance.

“Are they the right copies this time?”

“Double checked them myself.”

You open your mouth to verbalize your doubts but Yoongi’s pick of the day catches your eye.

Surviving Your Stupid Stupid Decision to Go to Grad School.

Scoffing, you flip the book around and shoot daggers into his face with your eyes. “Do you think you’re funny?”

The corner of his mouth twitches then becomes a full blown smile. Leaning over the desk, he drops his voice, “I think I’m hilarious.”

Remembering you are, in fact, in a library, you manage to muffle a frustrated groan. You dump the supplementary reading back on the counter for Yoongi to deal with and head upstairs.

Unlike the usual days where you put off finding a response to Yoongi’s extra copy until the waning hours of the afternoon, you drop your bags and head straight for the shelves. The fifth floor houses a collection of textbooks and other reference material. It’s why it's always deserted unless some poor fool stumbles on it by accident; the perfect place to work uninterrupted for hours.

You head down stairs, circling the fourth and then third floor like a shark in a feeding frenzy. A few covers spark interest but nothing captures what bubbles in your veins: annoyance, anger, confusion. A brief flutter of interest as to why Yoongi decided to mess with you but those feelings are more dangerous than the acidic ones.

Row after proves unfruitful in your quest for passive aggressive revenge. None have the same bite as his book, or seem to curb the homicidal thoughts raging in your head.

Until a little white book peeps back at you from the end of the aisle.

Yoongi jumps when you slam Bitter Is the New Black: Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass in front of him. A feat in and of itself to sneak up on him given the loan desk has a perfect view of the entire first floor but whatever he’d been clicking away at on the computer was distraction enough.

“What's this?”

“Thought you might like some new reading.” You flash your teeth.

His chin jerks towards the glossy cover. “I already gave this two stars on Goodreads.”

Of course he has.

Face prickling in embarrassment, you turn back the way you came without a word.

Hours later, when half the day has ticked by and the ache for more caffeine burns your eyes, Yoongi stops by your desk. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t try and gain the attention you pointedly withhold. He sets a paper coffee cup on the corner of the tabletop and leaves.

You snatch up the cup after he rounds the corner out of sight. The lack of sugar leaves much to be desired but free coffee is free coffee, especially to a PhD student with limited means.

It isn’t much of an apology but guilt blooms down your spine anyway. He meant well. You aren’t known for giving yourself breaks; unable to quit while you’re ahead. A voluntary day off is less likely than winning the lottery. You’re a busy body and the constant work keeps you from dissolving into chaos.

You don’t see Yoongi again until every book at your desk is exhausted, begging for a break from your manhandling. Double and triple checking notes and citations are the poor excuse you implement to delay the inevitable. At some point you’ll have to go downstairs to face the music.

He’s waiting like always, scanning the mountain of returns littering the counter from a long day. Each step closer withers something in your stomach.

The copies in your hand shift onto the wooden surface, joining the stack for him to work through. Yoongi flashes a polite grimace when you catch his eye before immediately diving back into his work. Hopefully he understands why you chose Thank You for Smoking. And why you covered the second half of the title with a sticky note.

Jungkook’s smiling face greets you bright and early. His name tag has been upgraded from flimsy paper to a plastic one and a printed label with his name.

Handing over your library card, he quickly scans it and grabs the books meant for today’s dissection.

“Yoongi wanted me to tell you that if you want more coffee while you’re working, you can go to the staff lounge on the second floor.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook continues sifting through your requests, making sure each is correct. “Between you and me, the coffee down the street is better. But don’t tell him I said that.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a coffee snob and thinks his shit—sorry—stuff is the best.”

“Okay,” you say, grabbing your pile. “Thanks.”

You set up your station like always, sorting through each book and devising a mental to do list. The desk resembles a feast but instead of food it’s encyclopedias, printed articles, and dusty manuscripts Yoongi wrangled from who knows where. On the outer board of your work station rests the feature of the day: How to Beg for Cigarettes.

A few hours pass between the pages. Your previous research is confirmed by the significantly less dusty encyclopedias this time, corroborating the basis of your thesis. A new work you haven’t seen is cited in the back, piquing your interest for more evidence.

Instead of bothering one of the staff, you use the library website and find it in their catalog. It’s somewhere on the second floor where Yoongi offers free coffee. Two birds, one stone; a new book and a new cup of coffee.

The layout resembles all the other floors. A collection of study tables in the center crowded by bookshelves on all sides. One person, an undergrad by the look of pure dread on their features, occupies a table but that's it. Glancing at the note with the call number, you start towards the stacks on the left.

You find the correct area, eyes scanning up and down the different shelves to no avail. Hundreds of books, different sizes in an array of colors, flash by but none are the one you need. You’re about to call it quits when you spot it on the top shelf, just out of reach.

Call it a moment of stupidity, a brief blight of recklessness, but the book sits only a few inches beyond your fingers. You look around to make sure no one is around to witness the brilliantly flawed idea crest in your brain. With the coast clear, you hoist yourself up the shelf.

A deadpan voice nearly makes you fall.

“Looking for something?”

Yoongi stands a few feet away, head cocked to the side. Of course he’d find you in such a ridiculous position. Even through the blur of your peripheral vision, the harsh lines of his usual uniform clashes against the back drop of books. Dark jeans fitted over his thighs, dark button down rolled up his arms, and a pair of glasses that make him look hot. But you’re in no position to dwell when the risk of falling on your ass is so high.

“Nope, just getting in some exercise” you grunt, moving your foot to the shallow hold of the next shelf.

Yoongi moseys up behind you before continuing. “And climbing a decades old bookshelf is how you stretch your legs?”

“You smoke cigarettes, I climb old furniture. We all have our vices.”

Your foot slips from its perch, making you squeak before catching your balance.

“Alright spider-monkey, that's enough.” His hands slide across your hip, fingers curved around the softest part of your waist as he helps you down.

Distracted by the weight of him still on your hip, the heat of his chest a scorching across your back, you don’t even think to disparage him for the cheap Twilight reference. The few inches Yoongi has on you allows him to reach overhead to snag the copy you need with ease. But as you watch his hands close around the spine everything beyond fades to black; like the universe pinholes where you two stand.

“This one?” You feel the vibration of his words up and down your spine, warm breath tracing across the shell of your ear.

Body on autopilot, you turn to face Yoongi. His mouth moves, eyes scanning the book cover but every word deafens in a muddy haze. He doesn’t seem to realize his hand is still on your waist, or how he crowds you into the shelves; chest to chest, stomachs barely an inch apart.

“Huh?” you ask, tearing your eyes away from his mouth.

“I said, if you asked for this book earlier I could have gotten it for you.”

“Oh.”

“You okay?” he asks, stepping further into you. “You look a little flushed.”

The bastard smiles. A God’s honest smile like his thigh isn’t between your own, or he isn’t waiting for a reply while his fingers dig in beneath your ribs.

Just when you open your mouth to say something, Yoongi silences you with a firm squeeze of his hand. His head lowers until his breath ghosts along your chin.

Then you’re kissing; lips sliding together easily like he anticipated it. The world shatters all around from just a few passes of his mouth across your own, the weight of his body flattening you against the bookshelf.

The first hint of his tongue against the seam of your lips makes you gasp and Yoongi takes the opportunity to taste you. You melt under his attention. Head tipping back, shoulders bowing to take more, your senses flood with the remnants of coffee and something else; something so quintessential Yoongi your head spins. It lights a new flame in your veins, one burning with pure want.

A handful of his shirt pulls him closer. Yoongi follows easily but gets more than asked for when one of your hands tangles in the back of his hair, tugging until he’s tilting his chin the way you want. It’s a bad habit other dates have subtly complained about but a noise bubbles in his throat at the dig of your nails; responding with his own palm squeezing roughly across your ass until your hips meet his.

The crash of the book near your feet is like a bucket of ice water.

“Oh my god,” you gasp. Jumping back proves futile as the shelf digs further into your spine. “I–”

Puffy lips and lowered eyes stare back at you, clear evidence that you haven’t hallucinated what just happened. Yoongi dips down to kiss you again but you slither out of his grip.

Forgetting the book on the tiled floor, you mumble an apology and flee back upstairs, beelining to the vacant restroom.

To your own mortification, your features mirror Yoongi’s; lips swollen, eyes glazed. Your sweater twisted around your torso clearly betraying your rendezvous in the stacks. Beads of sweat cling to your forehead and neck.

A few splashes of cold water help clear the fog in your brain but as it dissipates embarrassment sets in. Making out with a handsome man is one thing. Making out with the librarian assisting in the most important work of your life is an entirely different ordeal; one that can only spell trouble.

Pacing back and forth, the cool paper towel on the back of your neck helps calm your racing heart enough to leave the safety of the ladies room.

Try as you might to drown under piles of books, it’s useless. You pretend to read the same passages over and over but none of the words register. The kiss replays over and over and over again. You kissed Yoongi. Yoongi kissed you back. He tried to kiss you again when you pulled away.

The end of the day inevitably comes which means you have to face him whether you want to or not. But you won’t allow a single lapse of judgment to affect your work; a moment of weakness propelled by months of abstinence that just so happened to coincide with a surly librarian’s entrance into your life. You just needed to get it out of your system. If it hadn’t been Yoongi it would have been someone else.

At least that’s what you tell yourself.

A glance at your watch informs you that today is the second day you’ll leave the library early. Rather than give into the stubborn instinct to stay, you decide putting as much distance between yourself and Yoongi is far better for your mental health. With squared shoulders and a raised chin, you head downstairs.

Yoongi’s waiting behind the counter. He isn’t typing on his computer or scanning books. He watches every step you take, arms crossed in front as he leans forward like he’s eager for a confrontation.

“Yoongi,” you say.

“Y/N.”

You use every fiber of will to maintain eye contact as you pass your stack over the counter. “I’ll need these same ones tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He nods. “And the kiss?”

“What kiss?” you croak.

Yoongi’s eyes blaze like you’re a new puzzle to be solved, like he wants to take you apart and find exactly what makes you tick. You feel naked. “The one where you—”

“Must have been someone else. Sorry. Have a good night!” You rush for the door before he can say another word.

Another morning is another day in the library, but this time your roommate begs to tag along.

“Look, I’m not getting anything done on my thesis so maybe you’ll rub off on me,” Taehyung says.

Rolling your eyes, you step through the door he holds open. “I think you’ve had plenty of people rub off on you.”

Gasping with fake indignation, he catches up easily. “Are you calling me a slut?”

“Yes.”

“Good, I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. Is that him?”

Yoongi and Jungkook are talking behind the counter. Jungkook’s hands wave wildly as he recounts whatever information to his boss while Yoongi listens with fake interest. Or that's what someone else might think. The subtle signs he cares are hidden in the details; the miniscule lift of shoulders, a cock of his head, and when Jungkook pouts in a way too ridiculous for a man his size, Yoongi hides a smile in the shake of his head.

“Yes.”

“And I’m the slut?” Taehyung scowls as you pinch his shoulder. “What? He’s a nerd’s walking wet dream.”

“And he can hear you, so shut up.”

“Morning!” Jungkook calls on his way past with a cart full of books.

He grins like he knows exactly what happened on the second floor yesterday but that can’t be true. Yoongi doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell. Only the type to kiss and tease you relentlessly for it when no one else is around to hear.

Taehyung’s attention immediately locks on him. You love your roommate, always have and, unfortunately, always will; but he is a slut and Jungkook is definitely his type. However, he’s on your turf and knows better than to fuck where you have to eat for the next few months.

“Y/N, Y/N’s friend,” Yoongi says when you approach his desk.

“Taehyung.”

“Right,” Yoongi drawls, blinking lazily before sliding your books over and turning around to sort something on the opposite counter.

Taehyung, ever the gentleman, grabs the pile for you and follows upstairs.

“Well he seems like a cup of sunshine,” Taehyung whispers.

“Just because he isn’t fawning over you doesn’t mean he’s an asshole.”

“I’m very fawn-able, ask anyone,” your roommate argues as you approach the fifth floor. “Wait, what's this… How to Defeat Your Own Clone and Other Tips for Surviving the Biotech Revolution. This is the type of shit he’s giving you? You’re easier than I am.”

“Give me that.” You snatch the paperback out of his grip. “Stop being nosy.”

Taehyung lets you work in peace after that, disappearing to gather more of his own materials. Even in undergrad he’d never been one to sit still for long. But he still managed to get a spot doing an engineering thesis despite the constant changes in his attention.

After several hours of mind numbing typing you need a break, and another cup of coffee on someone else’s dime sounds perfect.

“I’m getting coffee.”

“Bring me some,” Taehyung says without looking up from his screen.

The staff lounge is nothing fancy. A couple small tables with plastic chairs tucked around, a cork board covered with fliers, and a white board stuck to the fridge scrawled upon with black dry erase marker. The coffee pot sits full in the machine, still hot to the touch.

You pour two cups. Taehyung’s gets loaded with creamer cups until it’s closer to white than black while yours is sweetened to sickening perfection. When you try to take a sip, the liquid immediately burns your tongue. Too hot coffee is better than cold coffee but an ice cube would help make it more palatable.

Moving back to the fridge, you go to open the freeze but stop when the white board catches your attention again.

Most notes are chores or friendly reminders about time cards but almost half the board is dedicated to a back and forth.

‘Unofficial Employee of the Month: Jungkook’

A note in Yoongi’s tight script: ‘You don’t work here.’

‘That’s why it's unofficial!’ in what must be Jungkook’s messy handwriting.

‘You’re my official employee of the month. - Namjoon’

At the bottom is a crude drawing of stick figures, two tall smiling ones holding hands under a rainbow labeled ‘JK’ and ‘Joon’ and a comically shorter one with evil eyebrows surrounded by storm clouds and ‘yoongi :(’ overhead.

“Snooping for secrets?”

“Jesus Christ,” you jump, turning to face Yoongi. “Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to sneak up on people?”

“You’re in the staff lounge, there’s gonna be staff here.” Yoongi crosses to the coffee pot on the counter and pours himself a cup. He doesn’t add cream or sugar or anything else to lessen the bitterness. Cliche. “So, was bringing your boyfriend here your subtle way of letting me down?”

“You think Taehyung is my boyfriend?” You whirl around in shock. Yoongi raises a brow, prompting you to continue. “Jungkook is more his type than I am.”

Yoongi releases a pleased hum, eyes shining. “So no boyfriend then?”

“Nope.”

You’re shaking but don’t look away from his hungry gaze. Yoongi takes a step closer, and another and one more until you're pinned to the countertop and his mouth is on yours.

This time, you're more aware of everything. The smell of his cologne, the tickle of his bangs along your forehead, all the tiny details that were muffled before. Yoongi’s lips are firm against your own, a little chapped but it only makes you hotter with each pass.

His mouth is everywhere; your chin, your jaw, peppering down your throat until he pushes aside the hem of your shirt and sets to work on the jut of your collarbone like he’ll never get a chance again.

“Yoongi,” you hum on the first rake of teeth.

He takes it as an invitation to dig in harder, sucking the skin until your spine threatens to break and you say his name again. Desperate for some kind of anchor, you knot your fingers back in his hair and pull.

A throaty noise responds and the need to hear more rears its head. Yoongi who always watches with measured fascination undone by some light petting. The power is addictive.

Legs spread, he presses in flat. The heat of his cock, rigid beneath the fabric of his jeans, teases across the seam of your own. You're technically still in public but the consequences concern you less than the knowledge that you’ll go mad if you don’t feel him. His arms circle your back, pulling you firmer against him, right to the edge of the linoleum counter.

Wedging a hand between your bodies, you manage to get his zipper undone while your tongue traces along his jaw. Yoongi angles his hips to help, curling into your palm when you cup him over the fabric of his boxers. Every press has him swelling harder.

His hands reach under your shirt. Skin on skin, the rough calluses of his fingers trace your ribs, thumbs following the cup of your bra in a tease. It’s a simple touch but your own hands falter when he brushes a nipple. You melt into each other.

“Hey, Yoongi, do you know where—HOLY SHIT!”

Jungkook stops at the door, eyes wide, mouth wider.

“Get out!” Yoongi barks. He’s trying his best to keep your body covered from the younger man’s view but even if Jungkook isn’t getting a full frontal he isn’t dumb enough not to realize what’s going on.

Yoongi shudders a few breaths. Head hung low, he tucks himself back into his pants without moving away. You’re already slipping down from your perch when he looks back up.

“I’m just gonna…go,” you mumble, scurrying out the door.

Jungkook waits outside, eyes still bugging out of his head but at least has the decency to pretend he didn’t catch you in the act.

Tugging your shirt down, you avoid his gaze. How far would you have let Yoongi go if Jungkook hadn’t interrupted?

“Coffee?” Taehyung asks as you approach the table.

You know what you look like without a mirror. The same as yesterday with glassy eyes and bruised lips, clothes wrinkled. Thankfully, Taehyung is more interested in his modeling software than where you’ve been.

“They were out.”

With a sigh like he is personally victimized by the lack of caffeine, Taehyung collapses on the table and plays dead. But he perks up at the sound of footsteps approaching behind you.

“You left this in the break room,” Yoongi says, dropping a cup of coffee by your side before disappearing.

You turn to follow his retreating for until he’s hidden back between the shelves. The back of his hair is still messy despite his attempt to fix it, same with the wrinkles in his shirt from your hands.

“I thought they were out?” Taehyung eyes you suspiciously when you look back at him.

Cradling the still hot cup in your hands, you avoid his gaze. “Shut up.”

“So you do have to sleep with someone to get a cup of coffee.”

“I’m not sleeping with him,” you spit in a harsh whisper.

“Why not?”

“Because…”

Because what exactly? There isn’t a good reason other than the fact Jungkook was the king of cockblocks. You would have let Yoongi do just about anything he wanted and he seemed to be in agreement. But you’d rather die than admit that out loud.

“You are so smart and so incredibly stupid.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, rising to pack his things. “I need to pee.”

You point him in the direction of the bathrooms and get back to work.

When Taehyung returns minutes later he starts shoving his things in his bag. “I’m leaving.”

“Why?”

“This is like the epicenter of hot smart men and I refuse to suffer any longer.”

“You got Jungkook’s number,” you deadpan.

Taehyung can’t hide his own shit eating grin. “Yoongi gave it to me.”

“If you’re leaving, so am I.”

“Why?” your roommate whines.

“Because I got you a hot date and that means you owe me dinner.”

“Technically it was Yoongi but I’ll concede.” Taehyung heaves his bag up. “Come now my dearest, we can still get happy hour if we hurry.”

You reach in your own bag and toss him your keys. “Go wait in the car. I’ve gotta go grab another book real quick.”

“Whatever,” Taehyung says, mumbling something like ‘nerds’ under his breath as he heads downstairs.

You find Yoongi while on your way to his desk, already toting around the cart piled high with returns from the day. Several of the covers are Taehyung’s picks and somehow the knowledge they’ve spoken almost knocks you off kilter. Taehyung is a good wingman and that’s what worries you most.

“Hi,” he says, kneeling to put a book on a low shelf.

It shouldn’t have the effect it does but something about the way Yoongi looks up at you, on his knees, head tipped back, has your mind running wild with the image of him in the same position with both of you wearing far less clothing. Maybe if you weren’t interrupted in the staff lounge you’d have seen it in real life.

“Hi. Mind if I add these to the pile?”

“Go ahead.”

The Stocking was Hung sits on top. You don’t wait around to see his reaction.

The temperature had steadily been increasing over the past weeks but this morning is the worst of all. That inescapable warmth fully seeded overnight and promised the comforting days of sweaters and pants are long gone.

Heat makes you lazy and fitful. In the early hours, long before you actually need to be awake, you stare up at the ceiling of your room. Not even a frigid shower helped the stickiness of your skin or laying still in your bed in nothing but one of Taehyung’s shirts and ratty shorts. It followed you everywhere until you left for the same brick building you spend more time at than at home.

Without thought, you throw on the first seasonally appropriate outfit in your closet; a thin dress that covers enough for the public but promises to keep you cool.

Yoongi seems to be taking the change in weather as well as you are. His usual attire is absent, nothing but a white shirt clinging to his torso. The pale skin of his forearms briefly catches your attention but you focus anywhere else to stop from rounding the desk and finishing what started upstairs.

You steel yourself and approach the desk, determined to act normal.

Familiar dark eyes flash up to greet you but Yoongi’s mouth doesn’t form any words. He just stares at you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your shoulders, your neck, and then he pointedly keeps them trained on your eyes. Like he's willing to pretend yesterday didn’t happen.

He doesn’t speak when he passes over the same pile of books as yesterday but you can feel him burn a hole in your back. Even after you climb up the stairs and out of sight, the prickling sensation you’re being watched follows.

You don’t get anything done. The words on the page might as well be another language as your mind races.

Yoongi didn’t give you an extra book today.

An endless list of potential explanations race through your mind. Maybe you’d been too forward with your choice. Maybe he’s gotten it out of his system, a quick tryst in the employee lounge enough to satiate his curiosity. Maybe because it’s the second time you’ve brushed him off. Even if it wasn’t your fault Jungkook stumbled in before anything worthwhile could happen.

But he isn’t speaking to you and he isn’t giving you the random book you’ve come to look forward to every morning.

Channeling the restless energy of overthinking, you take a lap around the floor. You pause to flip through random books as you zigzag through the stacks. Anything to take your mind off the unshakable tension sticking in the air like syrup.

Your laptop is in sleep mode by the time you reluctantly come back. Everything is as you left except a book you’ve never seen before sits on top of the open one you’d been reading.

There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom.

A sticky note sticks up from the inside of the cover. A bolt of excitement shoots down your spine. When you flip it open a familiar handwriting stares back: ‘on the seventh floor’.

You hadn’t been gone too long but the fear of making him wait has you rushing up the stairs. Each step brings you closer to where he waits until you’re opening the bathroom door.

“Yoongi?”

A hand wraps around your upper arm, yanking you in. Another hand silences a surprised shout before you realize it’s Yoongi and not a murderer pinning you to the interior of the door you just came through.

“Jesus, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” he breathes. “It’s just not a good look for me to be up here.”

“Oh, really?” You smile. “And why is that?”

“This is my job.”

“Didn’t seem to stop you before.”

“Who says it’s stopping me now?”

He thumbs the strap of your dress, hooking under the thin material and dragging it down your arm. The heat and weight of Yoongi against you, touching you so simply, makes you vibrate. Yoongi moves into your neck, panting with a grind against your thigh. “I swear I don’t usually do this.”

You want to argue that you have two accounts that he does do this often, at least with you. But for someone who says they don’t, Yoongi is surprisingly natural. The tease prickling the end of your tongue fizzles out under his teeth across the curve of your shoulder, goosebumps blossoming along your back.

A whimper unbecoming of an adult woman breaks the lullaby of summer air conditioner singing through the vents. You’re sweating under the cling of your dress, skin hot to the touch thanks to Yoongi’s attention; long fingers curved around your waist, thumbs skimming just under your breast.

“Could have fooled me.”

“This is a very nice dress.” His mouth bites down your neck, taking advantage of the new strips of skin the neckline unveils.

“That’s all it takes?” you pant from the wet of his tongue. “A pretty dress?”

“If you think,” he whispers into your ear. “I’m doing this because of your dress then you really haven’t been paying attention.”

The dark locks of his hair are too alluring to resist, tempting one of your own hands to scratch against the tip of his spine when Yoongi rolls against you again. A firm tug brings him to your mouth, lips molding to one another in a searing kiss. You can taste the coffee from the lounge and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke, like he thought to hide it before asking you to follow him.

“How long? How long have you wanted this?”

Yoongi hooks one of your thighs higher, savoring the heat of your core against the crotch of his pants with a slow thrust. “Since you came in and busted my balls over not having that archived manuscript when the website said we did.”

You remember that day. Patience thin from Taehyung’s loud overnight guest, you stormed into the library looking to take it out on a photocopy of the manuscript only for the only copy to be AWOL. Yoongi became the surrogate for your rage, his eyes burning into your skull as questioned how he could let it happen.

The next day was when he started adding books to your stack.

“That was months ago.”

“I’m a patient guy.”

You want him naked; ache to catalog what he’s hidden underneath bulky sweaters and loose button ups over the past few months. But that idea has to wait for somewhere less risky. You settle for dipping your hand under his shirt, tracing your fingers over the elastic of his boxers peeking from the waistband of his pants.

Attempting to hide the effect he has, you loop your fingers in his belt loops and pull him even closer so your face is hidden in the crook of his neck. “There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom? A little on the nose, don’t you think?”

“Like The Stocking was Hung is any better?” Yoongi sighs as your mouth ghosts over the rising vein webbing the side of his throat.

“Hey!” you object, rising to face him. “I thought you’d appreciate it after that mothman book.”

“I appreciate you complimenting my dick plenty.”

Yoongi doesn’t let you go, hands palming at the swell of your ass the entire way from the door to the counter. He’s got one hand curved along your jaw, thumb hooked around your chin and his teeth bruising your lower lip. The edge of granite digs in your spine but not for long as he lifts you and settles on his knees to dive under your skirt.

He kisses up your calf, tongue snaking across the knob of your knee then the plush of your thigh. Just when you feel a puff of breath against the damp crotch of your panties, Yoongi falls to repeat the same path against your other leg.

You don’t suffer for long. Pooling the excess fabric around your waist, Yoongi blinks up from between your thighs. The pink of his tongue follows the edge of your panties, wetting the fabric more until it clings obscenely.

He pushes his glasses up to rest on the top of his head, keeping the mess of gray and black hair out of his eyes before diving back down.

His tongue lathers over your covered slit with a groan. “Taste better than I imagined.”

“You thought about this?”

“Couldn’t stop thinking about it. On my desk, yours, against that fucking bookshelf.” Yoongi punctures each word with more wet kisses against your core. “In my car, my bed. Everywhere.”

A cool breath has your thighs squeezing around his head thanks to the erotic combination of his spit and your own fluids drenching your panties. “Is this all you think about?”

“I had to come up here and jerk off yesterday because I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands.”

Your panties are pulled to the side before you can indulge in the new visual blooming on the edge of consciousness. “Yoongi.”

Eyes closed, his mouth circles your clit, tongue gently stroking you to life. Every pass against the sensitive bundle of nerves has your thighs squeezing around his head.

The first prod of fingers makes Yoongi’s hold on the crook of your knee tighten. He stretches you back open, eyes following the way you suck him inside; coating his spindly digits with more arousal each time.

“A-ah,” you shake. “Please.”

Yoongi chances a glance up at your face, the needy sheen in your eyes, the way your mouth gapes, and decides to take mercy.

He latches back onto your clit. Yoongi groans as you tug his hair, knocking his glasses to the ground. The pace he works your remains lethargic, savoring the kick of your hips until you grind against his mouth.

Throaty groans vibrate against your cunt, tightening the muscles along the inside of your thighs. Neither of you are doing a good job muffling yourselves but if it’s between getting caught and having him stop then you’ll deal with the consequences when they come.

“Oh, Yoongi.” Your chest pulls tight; spurred on by the sounds of Yoongi bullying your insides, his mouth smacking against your folds. “I’m— oh, oh, oh!”

The rough crook of his fingers sends you flying. Only the pressure of his shoulders keep you from slipping off the counter as you explode against his mouth. Euphoria rushes your veins, licks of pleasure overwhelming. Every muscle quivers as Yoongi works you through until you use his hair to pull him away.

He’s quick on his feet. You’re still recovering as Yoongi pushes your bra down and draws one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking until you pull his hair again. Eyes cinched tight, face wet, you force his pants open then his underwear until Yoongi is almost as exposed as you are; pretty in your palm, sticky and hot to the touch.

But it’s not enough to feel him in your hand, you need to feel him inside. To fill you up where you sit hollow and aching without his fingers to provide a sliver of relief. “Fuck me.”

Yoongi doesn’t tease, has no quip about how needy you are. He keeps his mouth on your chest and uses his hands to grab something out of his pocket. It happens so fast you don’t even realize the condom is on until he nudges between your legs.

Your nails dig into his back, breathing through the initial stretch is the only way you stay quiet. Yoongi hides himself back in your neck, strained noises clawing out of his throat.

Yoongi isn’t gentle. Not caution or waiting. Months of push and pull destroy any desire for him to treat you as something fragile. He rushes into desperately, forcing your palm flat against the mirror behind you for some semblance of stability.

“God,” he grunts. “You’re incredible.”

You whimper a quiet acknowledgement, too fucked out to blush under his praise; pulling Yoongi closer until he’s scooping his hands underneath your ass, thrusting into you over and over. His mouth finds yours. Greedy. Hungry.

It’s Yoongi who struggles to stay quiet. Even through the kiss he moans loud enough you feel it in your throat. You listen to them all, twisting the hand knotted in his hair to hear the whine you’ve quickly become obsessed with.

“Should have done this sooner,” your back arches and Yoongi’s mouth slips back down.

“I tried. But you kept ignoring me.”

“I wasn’t—fuck—ignoring you.” Yoongi is everywhere. His taste on your mouth, cologne burned in your nose. The feel of him all over your body. “Shit.”

He fucks you harder to prove a point, hand slipping down to rub your clit. Your second orgasm glows on the edges. If Yoongi keeps playing with you, stretching you in half on his cock and biting a mark into your breast, you know you’ll come.

You focus on breathing. Letting it come to you instead of chasing it, overthinking it to the point it evades you. It’s easier than usual. Yoongi doesn't leave room for anything else beyond feeling good.

“Oh my god,” you whisper as the cord tightens.

Everything turns white hot, pleasure tearing through your muscles and ripping them to shreds. You convulse in Yoongi’s hold, only pinned down by his hips fucking you brutally. Nerves shot, Yoongi babbles praise in your ear but it's indecipherable from the headrush.

Yoongi follows you over the edge a few strokes later, twitching inside you until he stills. His hips give a few arrhythmic bucks as he fills the condom with his load.

There's something nastier about clothed sex. The way sweat makes your clothes cling tighter, the rush of needing each other so badly you can’t be bothered to do more than pull things to the side.

You feel dirty but in a good way. Yoongi kisses across the apples of your cheeks, your chin, your forehead, even your brows, but never returns to your lips. Each leaves you more frustrated than the last, muscles twitching beneath and head turning at the last second to try and meet his mouth.

Tricking you with a brief connection, he laughs when you chase his lips as he dodgers back. But a pout and whine bring him back into your orbit.

He cleans you up with paper towels, wiping away the mess between your thighs with something akin to disappointment. But he doesn’t complain as he fixes your clothes and then his own. Muscles like jelly, you fall into his side when he helps you down from the counter.

With a kiss to your temple, “Let's get out of here.”

“Morning, Yoongi.” You smile as you walk up to his desk.

A set of dark eyes rise to greet you, taking the cup of coffee you so graciously offer before smiling as well. “Good morning.”

Jungkook gawks like he’s never seen you two speak before. Round eyes bounce between you and Yoongi as if it’s a tennis match instead of a normal conversation. Probably because Yoongi was less than subtle when he pulled you out of the building yesterday, telling him to call Namjoon if anything came up.

Or maybe because you’re wearing one of Yoongi’s shirts.

You discovered much about the mysterious librarian overnight. He’d taken you back to his apartment; a perfect extension of himself decorated with dark furniture and more books than anyone could possibly read. Yoongi owned a collection of vinyl records that rivaled his book collection, he was a great cook, and he was studying to take the entrance exam for law school.

After you were wined and dined, Yoongi dedicated hours between your legs. On his couch, against the massive bookcase in his living room, between the sheets of his bed.

He also had a kink for eating you out while you explained your thesis in precise detail.

You’d only been allowed to leave when Yoongi was getting ready for work, not that you'd put up much argument.

You make a scene of sorting through the stack he slides over. It’s not that you don’t trust Yoongi. But now that you’ve had a taste, you’re addicted to his presence. But he unfortunately can’t follow you upstairs so you savor the time now.

“One of my books is missing,” you say.

“Oh, right.”

Yoongi passes over an unfamiliar copy.

Maybe He Just Likes You

And the blue sticky note attached, with his handwriting. ‘Dinner when you're done?’

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