#jungkook sugar baby au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alphabetboyluvr · 7 months

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NIGHT CRAWLERS - JJK

title credit: night crawlers - kids in glass houses

pairing: drugrunner!jungkook x sugarbaby!reader, college au

synopsis:

jungkook’s always been good at running. track, field, red lights, shit outta luck. drugs, now, too. but he doesn’t expect to run into you. in your shared lecture halls, sure. maybe. but not down the back alleys of daerim at ass o’clock in the morning. there are only three types of women he ever sees in daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. you aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. he's sure of it. so it then further begs the question: why the fuck are you here?

warnings: jungkook and o/c are polar opposites, but y’know what they say, opposites attract and all that jazz, jk is a college student but also a drug runner, mentions of gang dynamics and hierarchy, oc is a sugar baby, mentions of consensual but uncomfortable sexual encounters as a result of this (proceed with caution), drugs, violence, blood, motorbikes, hurt/comfort, all the good stuff, smut – fingering, tittie sucking (wow pretend to be shocked!), unprotected sex, jk has the hugest cawk in the whole entire world, jk is a lil aggressive but in a sexy way, he accidentally says something mean during sex (not sexy mean, actually mean (he makes up for it tho!)), jk on top, oc on top, mentions of his pubes (yummy), tummy pressing, kissy kissy kissy koo, creampie, post-coitus nap, they’re literally in love idk what to tell you, ambiguous ending!!

wordcount: 26K

note from holly: originally published to wattpad in 2021 and also briefly uploaded to tumblr, too. It’s just hit 100k reads over on wattpad so I thought I’d put it here too!! There are two additional chapters on wattpad, connecting the story another fic of mine and also showing us jk + oc four years on from the events of NC!! If you’re interested, you can find it here (x).

i write in british english!! both in spelling and dialect!!

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

IT'S BEEN SAID that with great notoriety, comes great responsibility to uphold the expectations of those who presume the worst about you.

Okay, so that's a lie. No one's ever said that - but Jeon Jungkook has never been one for sticking to traditions, and so he likes to live his life as if that's his motto.

That, and 'rather be dead than cool.'

Which is ironic, because it's only the heteropatriarchal bores - the ones from upper-class families, who want a white picket fence and 2.4 kids - that actually think he's lame.

And he doesn't particularly give a shit about their opinions.

Everyone else thinks he's actually pretty fuckin' cool.

Black nails, black cargo pants, black hair that waves loosely over his sharp features. An air of command as he walks, a swagger in his step that lingers in stranger's heads like the silage of his aftershave.

Yeah, Jungkook is cool, and he fucking knows it.

A rucksack is perpetually slung over his shoulder, the top concaved slightly to indicate there's very little in there, not much more than a tatty notepad and a few loose pens - or so you assume.

You've never actually spoken to him. Why would you?

Daddy's little princess, glossy lips, manicured nails. The kind of girl who gives him a second look, but only to sneer. He doesn't think of you often, but when he does, it's never nice.

Jungkook doesn't have time for you, and you don't have time for him. Your paths rarely cross.

At least they barely crossed. Past tense.

Now that you're taking a few of the same classes as him, he sees you a lot more than he likes. Hair always up in that stupid fucking ponytail that he can't see past, perpetually on your phone. Attention seeking little bitch.

He'd ranted a little to Jimin about it, told him that you really must have been a dumb bitch to swap from an economics major to a film studies major with only a single semester left.

Jimin hadn't said much in return. Unlike Jungkook and his insatiable hate-boner for you, Jimin really doesn't give a shit about you. Barely knows your name, let alone the fact that you studied economics before switching over. Was kind of curious as to how Jungkook knew that. Not enough to bother with asking, though.

Jungkook thinks it's normal to scope out the competition. A little Facebook look-up, Naver search, Instagram scroll. Surely it's rational to do that? Check out their LinkedIn, cross-reference their Twitter history to see what they've said about the course.

It absolutely isn't normal, but then again, nor is Jungkook.

He's exactly as he appears to be; the rogue look isn't a front.

But beneath the exterior, there are a few more traditions he's subverting.

He's the first in his family to attend college, and he needs to ace this class to keep his scholarship.

It's all just projection, the way he despises you.

You've got everything he wants. A well-to-do family, money, prosperity, financial security. He's never known that. And while he shits on you for having parents that have provided for you, all he wants in life is to be able to do the same for his own children one day.

"I've matched you all with students of a similar grade level, so no one is at an unfair advantage," your professor calls out, tearing Jungkook from his thoughts. "Not a single one of you will experience the city in the same way. From shortcuts to your favourite coffee spots, your lives here will have been different to those of your peers."

Jungkook smirks, leaning back on his chair. He knows this city better than most; its dark corners, where the monsters lurk... how to hide and where to run.

Again, the rogue look isn't a front.

But he also knows how to work a camera better than anyone in that room, how to time his shots, how to frame them, too. Top of the class, though modestly quiet about it (he's got a reputation to uphold, after all), he's curious to see who would be considered an even match for him.

"That being said, your experiences are also shared with those around you. For this assignment, with your partner, I want you to create a unique piece of film that captures what the city means to you. Think outside the box. Create something that excites, that invokes. You've got eight weeks. The partner list is on the noticeboard at the back of the hall. Dismissed."

Footsteps echo around the lecture hall as everyone trundles out of the room. You wait back, having already seen the list before you entered the class.

Instead, you pull out a pen - one of the ones that Jungkook hates, with a ridiculous fluffy pink pom-pom on top - and jot down your number. You aren't aware of his insatiable hatred, and either way, you don't really care.

He ignores you as you approach his desk, eyes only drifting upwards when you slide the torn-out piece of paper towards him.

"Mhmm?"

He's rude, you notice. Brows raised, expression flat, he's fed up with you before you've even said a word. Kinda hot, admittedly, but rude.

"We're partners," you say with an ambivalent shrug. Jungkook's jaw seems to tense, head tilting as he breathes out a short smirk.

Partners?

"You haven't even gone out to check the board."

"So what?" You scoff a little. He doesn't like your tone. The feeling is mutual. "I just made it up?"

It's his turn to shrug, now. "Dunno. You tell me."

His hair waves around his features, and you wonder how long it takes him to make it look so natural. The girls around campus swoon over his hair, like he's some kind of God. Other boys try to emulate it, but they can never quite pull it off like he does.

Another thing that all the girls giggle about are his doe-like eyes, but they're hard, now. Narrow, almost. Less of a doe, more like a dragon. Maybe if you get his nostrils flaring, he'll breathe fire, too.

Yeah, he's hot, you want to laugh to yourself, but not that hot.

"I checked before I came in. Didn't take a genius to work out what it was for."

He takes a moment before he nods. "Right. Well, you should probably know that I work better alone. Just let me handle the assignment, a'right? You can put your name on it, whatever, I don't care. Just let me handle it."

A control freak, you note. Nice.

You didn't transfer majors in your last semester, and face all the hardships that came with such a decision, just to sit back and let someone else do the hard work for you.

"With all due respect, it's a joint assignment. I'm not putting my name on work I didn't actually do."

A stickler for the rules, he assesses. Fucking fastastic.

"Look," he sighs, adjusting his body so that he's practically leaning halfway over his desk. As much as it sounds like he doesn't want to be a part of this conversation, his body language is oddly engaged. "I need to ace this class. You've been here, what? All of three minutes? Film what you wanna film, send it over to me for editing."

"I'm very much capable of editing-"

"And if you could do me a favour and keep the nail salon footage to a minimum, that would be much appreciated. Everyone's seen that shit. It's not interesting. Gangnam underground shopping centre B-roll, too."

It's a thinly veiled insult. Assumptions he's making about you based on the clothes you wear and the company you keep. He doesn't explicitly say it, but you know what he means: you're not interesting.

Jungkook doesn't mean to be an asshole. Not really. He's just got a lot riding on this course, and doesn't want to risk it all for the sake of keeping the peace with someone he doesn't particularly like in the first place.

"Like our Professor said, we all experience the city differently," you plaster a smile on your face, the plastic kind that Jungkook hates. "You might just be surprised at what I can offer."

Private tennis clubs and shopping sprees worth more than a second-hand car? Yeah, no. He'll pass, thanks.

"Whatever," he reclines back, giving your number the once over before tearing a strip of empty paper from the bottom of the note. His hand moves quickly, scrawling his own number onto it. He doesn't hand it to you, but instead tosses it down onto the desk as he stands. "As I said, I work best alone. Don't bombard me with messages about the project. I'll have it under control."

He vacates his desk with an air of arrogance that you don't think he's yet earnt. Sure, he's hot, and from what you've seen of his work, he's pretty talented, too. But no one likes working with assholes, and the whole point of being at college was to make yourself a desirable candidate for jobs.

Or at least that's what your parents had always said.

When they were still talking to you, that was.

Before they decided that you're a disgrace to the family name, all for the simple desire of not wanting to spend your life slaving over finances and spreadsheets.

Like inheritance and a slightly crooked nose (straightened out for your high school graduation gift), econ majors ran in your family - and just like you'd cut off your parents' dream of watching you become an economist, they'd cut you off. Full stop.

So as far as you were concerned, Jungkook could take his arrogant whining about your financial situation, and the hobbies you might have enjoyed as a result of your upbringing, and shove it up his ass.

You really wish he would. Shove it up his ass, that is. Might relieve him of the pent up tension he seems to have going on.

Swiping up his number, you tuck it into your back pocket, ruing the day you'll actually have to text it.

It comes as a surprise to both of you when, a week later, Jungkook is the first to type a message into your fledgeling chat window.

I'm filming tonight. Could use a Grip, if you're free. Dongdaemun Design Plaza, 7pm.

You wonder how much pride he must have had to swallow in order to send you that.

On occasion, during the past week, you've caught him looking at you in that slightly menacing way he always likes to do.

Part of you thinks he's unaware that he's doing it, just zoning out in your direction, but then you see him shake sense into himself - quite literally, a bunny with an itch behind its ear kind of shake - before he averts his gaze.

He does a similar shake of his head when your response pings through to his phone.

Can't do Tuesdays or Thursdays. Sorry. Maybe another time.

He doesn't reply.

REJECTION HAS NEVER been something Jungkook has taken well. It's why he works so hard, fearful of being told that he isn't good enough.

He'd only sent that text because he genuinely did need a Grip.

Well, no.

That's not quite right.

He needed a muse; a subject of his shots, a pair of eyes to catch the confetti of night market lights in. Someone's hand to film as they exchanged money with a hotteok stand server, another human to get lost and found all within the same shot.

But that felt awkward to ask, especially after his insistence that he could do it all alone, so he'd settled for pretending he'd needed a grip. Just someone to hold his gear while he took tricky shots. That's all.

Given your rejection, he was pleased with his choice.

"Familiar," Yoongi nods over lunch the next day, following Jungkook's gaze. "Yeah, I've definitely seen her around. Dunno where, though."

"Campus, maybe?" Jimin rolls his eyes, confused at the fixation Jungkook seems to have on you.

Yoongi shakes his head. "Nah... She looks like-" he glances over to Jungkook conscious of Jimin's listening ears.

"Like?"

"Just like a girl I see occasionally," Yoongi pauses again, making sure Jungkook's focus on him. "At work."

Jimin laughs. "So yeah, on campus. You work in the campus cafe, Yoongs."

It was the only legitimate place that would hire him. Dumb choices as a kid - and a questionable nickname that's now etched into his knuckles - prevents most places from seeing him as a viable candidate.

Yoongi laughs along with Jimin, but Jungkook knows Yoongi isn't talking about the once a week shift that he picked up as a form of extra credit.

Jungkook knows, because on paper, he doesn't have a job either.

On paper, he manages to survive on his scholarship bursary, The Holangi Honour, awarded to gifted students from underprivileged backgrounds.

On paper, Jungkook is the Korean dream of hard work and perseverance.

His reality isn't so pristine, but it never has been. He comes from a long line of high school dropouts with dubious morals and criminally reckless career choices. It was naive to have thought attending university would help him escape it.

Scholarship funds dried up pretty quickly, rent and t-money cards eating away at it, until Jungkook had no choice but to revisit old haunts.

Yoongi had told Jungkook that he didn't need to worry, that he could help him out if he needed money, but Jungkook was no leech, much to his older friend's despair. He didn't want the kid getting into the same trouble that he was in.

One meeting with Yoongi's old school friend, Hoseok and Jungkook was in the rat race again, delivering people's come ups for when the sun went down.

He'd always been good at running. Track, field, red lights, out of luck. Drugs, now, too.

Jungkook had managed a good year and a half on the straight and narrow. For that, he was proud. And sad.

But he's also determined.

Top grades mean top jobs in the future, which means never having to traipse around Daerim at ass o'clock in the morning.

He hates this part of town, but it's where business is currently booming.

Hobi texts him a drop-off list each morning, ensuring his nights are almost exclusively spent in Daerim.

This is how Jungkook sees the city: grotty back allies, groups of men huddled around a pack of cards and dice on the floor, cigarettes hanging out of their mouths, phlegm spat onto the foor. He sees the women of the night in the early hours of the morning, and the sadness in the smiles they give to the men who approach them on street corners.

There's only one club of any worthwhile note in the area, and between jobs, Jungkook likes to sit up on the fire exit that rests above the back entrance.

It's where Hobi works, assisting some other reprobate that Jungkook doesn't care to learn the name of. Nasty piece of work, or so he's heard. The son of some powerful motherfucker that Jungkook knows to stay away from. He isn't interested in joining any stupid fucking gang. He just wants to get his money, get through university, and forget about this place.

That's the big dream at least.

His current wish, which feels much more immediate, is to outrun the fucker who has been on his tail for the past half a mile. Jungkook's pretty fast on his feet, and he gives a mean left-hook, but the guy chasing him has a pocket knife and that doesn't really feel like a fair fight.

It's his fault, and he knows it.

As per usual, Hobi had texted Jungkook his drop off list. Six of them, all in Daerim. He had no business being down by Jungang Market, especially not on a Thursday evening.

He couldn't even explain why he was; he was just curious about what life could be like if he ended up flunking out of college. He wanted to see where the monsters liked to lurk, or if they hid in the shadows like boogeymen.

But reprobate recognises reprobate, and drug runner recognises drug runner.

So now Jungkook really is running, out of territory that he shouldn't have infringed upon.

He's not out of breath yet, but he is conscious that his heartbeat feels like it's in his throat. A few streets over, his motorbike is parked behind an industrial-sized trash can, and he prays that no thieving cunt has tried to make a get away with it. They wouldn't have managed it - it's his prized possession and he never leaves it unprotected.

When he spots it a few minutes later, he laughs, relieved. "You beauty," he praises the engine, pulling his key from the pocket of his leather jacket.

The fucker chasing him is nowhere to be seen, probably nursing a stitch or panting down a different back alley. Jungkook doesn't want to risk it, eyes darting all over the place as he unbuckles the chain on his bike wheel with muscle memory alone. The metal clangs through the iron bars that protect the banjihas down the alley from break-ins. He always feels a little bit of guilt for chaining his bike up to the only source of natural light for the half-basement dwellings, but it's quarter past two in the morning. Not exactly sunshine hours.

And yet his eye is drawn to the light pouring down from a street lamp at the entrance of the narrow lane.

Usually, you ignore the noises you hear on your walk home - but, as strange as it sounded for Jungkook's voice to issue a compliment, you're almost positive that it is his voice.

Dark hair, dark eyes, he doesn't recognise you at first. You're wearing black, and your hair is down, but your lips still have that stupid fucking pink lipstick on, the one he'd seen you blot away onto a tissue in the middle of a lecture a few days prior.

His eyes linger, the lights flickering in his glossy dark irises as if there are fireworks inside that pretty little skull of his. For a moment, he thinks you must have been filming for the assignment.

The lack of a camera proves otherwise.

"Get on the bike," he yells over to you, tugging on the sleeve of his leather jacket, pulling it down. Cognitive thoughts aren't something Jungkook's really working with, the adrenaline speaking for him.

That, and the fact that he's acutely aware of what men like the motherfucker who was chasing him down did to girls like you. Might not like you, but he doesn't want that on his conscience.

Plus, he needs your signature on the coursework documents, too. You're no use to him if you end up chopped into little squares and scattered in the river.

"Damnit, just get on the fucking bike!" He continues, noticing that you haven't moved a muscle. His jacket is off now, held out for you to take. He's impatient, eyes darting down the alleyway, as if he's scared of the rain that's pouring down around you. "Look, I ain't asking again. Just get on the bike, or I'll fuckin' leave you here. Some nasty fuckers about tonight."

And while you may not trust Jungkook, you don't trust the alleyways of downtown Seoul even more. You've seen the horrors. You know the dangers. Your mother didn’t raise a fool.

She also didn't raise you to bow to the commands of assholes like him either.

You ignore his jacket, hiking up your skirt, revealing far more of your thigh than most get to see. He doesn't make a comment, but you know he sees a flash of your underwear as you do so.

For once, sex seems to be the last thing on his mind.

Rain pools in the gutter by the drainpipes, trickling down, collecting in the ducts. A puddle sits on top, a tell-tale sign that the street is going to flood soon, but Jungkook also doesn't give a shit about that. Not right now - but he does make a mental note to check that the drains are unblocked by his place when he gets home.

He's a fellow basement dweller, dependent on the cheap rent. A banjiha boy with big dreams of getting out.

You hoist your leg over, ignoring the droplets of water on the leather seat, as your hand wraps around his waist. The front of his white shirt is damp from the rain, elevating the scent of his laundry detergent. You don't hate it. Quite like it, actually.

"Wet conditions," he rasps, voice still hurrying out of his mouth. "So take the jacket. If I slide, the tarmac will rip your skin off." He turns, wrapping the jacket around your shoulders. "I'm not your father. Dress yourself."

"I'd be a bit concerned if my father was trying to dress me at the ripe old age of 21," you bite back, as if the fabric of his jacket doesn't feel like it's melting into your skin on account of how bloody warm he is. You push your arms through the material, shaking it ever so slightly as Jungkook begins to rev the engine.

"Thanks would have sufficed," he bites back a scoff, not wanting to waste time arguing. "Try not to fall off, a'right?" He gruffs.

Some would have considered his concern endearing. You know it's just because he doesn't want to spend his evening scraping your flesh off the sidewalk. Not because he gives a single flying fuck about you.

"Hold on."

He doesn't wait for longer than a second, just enough time for you to wrap your arms around his waist, before he pulls down on the accelerator. His exhaust chortles, spitting out petrol as he goes, water from the ground splashing up against your bare leg. You can feel goosebumps forming, and yet your arms are completely warm.

Of course they are. Jungkook's chest is a fucking furnace, heart pumping blood through him faster than the speed of light. Forward, forward, forward, he pushes his bike on, away from the downtown area he found you in, and away from the demons who were hunting him.

The vibration of the bike is a welcome disguise. Beneath the motor's veil, you're shaking. Partly terrified, partly the victim of an adrenaline surge.

Hardly a surprise. You've never been on a bike like his before.

There weren't many men on motorbikes around your neighbourhood as a child, only Old Jinyeon, who had a Harley that he only rode on the weekends, or when his wife was away at that spa retreat that everyone knew was really code for 'rehab'. Prescription medication was her poison, mostly. There were whispers that alcohol was a bit of a problem, too.

It was a shame, really. She was a nice lady - she'd just married into a lifestyle that didn't suit hers.

Old Jinyeon's father had also been called Old Jinyeon, and his father before that, regardless of their age. The name wasn't the only thing inherited, but a fortune too. Old by name, old by money.

He'd met his wife at a gentleman's bar; gambled all of his chips away just so that he could keep talking to her as she worked.

But the good is rarely easy, and the easy never good. Women like her weren't supposed to be with men like him.

And girls like you aren't supposed to be on the back of boys like Jungkook's motorcycle.

But here you are, hurtling through the city at a speed you're pretty sure isn't legal, clinging onto him for dear life. Your eyes are shut, streaming with tears from the wind, mascara blotting onto his back.

"Left turn," he calls over his shoulder to brace you. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, stomach losing all stability as he rounds the corner. You've never suffered from travel sickness before, but now seems like the prime time to develop it.

The lights of the city all bleed into one kaleidoscope of colour. Your sense of direction has been rendered useless, only opening your eyes once every few seconds to make sure that this is real. And every single time, you're surprised to find that it is.

You expect it to be like a dream where you fall, only to wake up at the last second - but you've never had one of those dreams. You've only seen them in movies. You're not even sure they actually exist in real life. Perhaps this would be the closest you'd get to one. A main character moment - though this felt more like a crime-thriller than the rom-com you would have liked.

The feeling of damp wind in your hair like this is new, and exciting, but all you can think about is the fact that you're pretty sure one of your fake lashes just flew off. You pull your hand back to stroke at your lashes, just to check, but it's caught by Jungkook grabbing for it.

"I told you to hold on," he shouts, though he doesn't need to. The vibrations of his vibrato can be felt through his back. "So hold the fuck on, a'right?! I don't say shit like that for fun."

Jesus, you think. Who pissed in his cornflakes?

But he's right. You do need to hold on. He proves it by not warning you the next time he turns, the bike leaning so close to the tarmac that you're convinced you can feel rubber burn. He eases as soon as he hears you shriek, the grip you have on his chest so hard he swears you might puncture his skin. Reaching back, he cups your knee with his palm, checking for any sign of blood or broken skin. Negative. And yet his hand lingers before he retracts it. He's just making sure. Double-checking. Over-indulging.

"The fuck was that, asshole?" You all but scream.

"I told you to hold on, didn't I?!"

He did. And if you weren't doing so now, tighter than before, you'd have hit him so hard in the balls that he'd have no choice but to adopt in later life.

"You could have fucking killed me!"

"Oh, boo-hoo," he sneers, catching his tongue before he says something he'll grow to regret.

Jungkook would never have killed you. He knows these streets like the back of his hand, and how to ride his bike almost as well as he knows how to get himself off. It's second nature. Innate. A gift.

But before you can argue back, he draws to a stop, his exhaust rattling, the motor purring. As much as he'd like to tell you to get the fuck off his bike, he can feel you trembling now. A part of him - a very slim, deeply hidden part - feels guilty for being so hard on you.

He's grown up with bikes. Trusts them. Lives, breathes gasoline.

He doesn't imagine you know how to change a bicycle tyre, let alone anything with a motor.

The hand that had checked you for damage earlier returns, his fingertips warm against your goosebumps skin. He strokes lightly, once, twice, quickly. "You're fine," he tells you, and you want to believe him.

"Never said I wasn't."

He snorts a small laugh, then taps your knee, encouraging you off of the bike. His hand remains close as you do so, conscious of the fact that you'll most likely be unsteady on your feet - feet that he now notices are clad in the strappiest pair of heels he's ever seen in his life. Perhaps he doesn't need to worry about your stability at all. If you can walk in those, then you can surely handle a pair of wobbly knees.

Without much thought, you take his offer of assistance, his jacket dwarfing you as you stand, hand clasped in his.

"Where are we?"

The alleyway you're down is unlike the previous one he stole* you from (*rescued). It's cobbled and damp, yes, but the doors down here lead to dwellings, garages too. Not an industrial-sized trash cart in sight. And it doesn't smell like fermented piss either, which is a surprise. You thought that was just the standard for side-streets around these parts.

"Doesn't matter," Jungkook shrugs ambivalently as he unhooks his leg over the bike.

He wants to ask why you're wearing such stupid shoes.

That's a lie.

He doesn't think they're stupid.

He actually quite likes them. You've nice ankles. They look good.

What he really wants to ask is why you're wearing them on a school night. The pair of you might be in college, but it wasn't student night at the clubs, and he hadn't picked you up from a particularly nice part of town.

There are only three types of women he ever sees in Daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. You aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get Percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. He's sure of it.

So it then further begs the question: why the fuck were you there?

Sliding off his jacket, you offer him a small smile. It's the least you can do, you suppose.

It's funny, because you only ever see three kinds of men in Daerim: drunks, gamblers, and dealers. Jungkook isn't any of those. You might not know that much about him, but you know he's a scholarship kid, and that he won the winter film festival on campus for his documentary on back-alley gambling.

"We're not too far from campus," he eventually states. Few blocks over. He assumes you live on campus. Got the money for it.

"Cool," you nod, sure that you'll be able to find your bearings from here. You don't live on campus. Not anymore. No money for it. "Thanks for the lift, I guess."

The atmosphere is awkward, dewy mist in the air dampening both of you. He nods back, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

He knows he should invite you in, offer you somewhere to wait while you call a cab or something, but he's embarrassed. Of himself. His living situation. The fact that he doubts you've ever even been in a basement that isn't a wine cellar.

"Look I-"

"So-"

Jungkooks nose scrunches, cringing at the awkwardness. You glance down, self-conscious.

"What were you doing over in Daerim?" he asks rather out of the blue. He doesn't even process that he's asked until it's too late.

You clear your throat a little. "Just had some errands to run."

"At two in the morning?"

You nod.

"Right," he doesn't believe you, but can't think of a better explanation.

"Well, what were you doing there?" You ask, albeit a little more confrontational than intended. You were on the defensive.

His mouth is flat as he speaks, a narrowness to his eyes that makes your lips purse to suppress a smirk. "Running errands."

So you're both dirty little liars. Who'd've thought?

"Fairplay," you say with a smile. "Look, I still appreciate the ride. I'd have been fine," you add."But yeah, appreciate it nonetheless."

"Was nothing. I was headed in this direction anyway. If you take a left at the end of the street and follow the road down, there's usually a bunch of taxis waiting for the university cleaners to finish their night shifts. I'm sure you'll be able to get one."

"Take a left," you hum. "Cool. Will do." Bracing yourself to leave, Jungkook wonders if he should offer you a lift to your place too. "See you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, tomorrow. Class? That thing we attend during daylight hours?"

"Oh right. Yeah. See you tomorrow."

Bizarrely enough, if this is how awkward Jungkook is when he's being nice, you think you prefer him being an asshole. At least he has a little spark in him then.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook feels overloaded with fucking sparks, like someone's holding an axe grinder against the metal of his earrings, deafening him. The reality of his evening is kicking in, and the knowledge that he came a few metres from having a hole in his abdomen becomes overwhelming. He doesn't let it show, though.

"Thanks, again."

You make a promise to punch yourself in the face if you say thank you one more fucking time.

"It's fine, again," he smiles, with a small laugh, before focusing those eyes of his on the floor.

And so you leave, walking straight past the taxi rank and taking a shortcut to your apartment, which is a lot closer than you had realised.

Seven steps below street level, you jog down to your front door, petting the neighbourhood calico stray on your way down. The door closes with a slam, but you don't give a shit because the people in the apartment above never seem to give a shit when they stumble home at four in the morning.

Before he sleeps that evening, Jungkook wonders how much of the skyline you get to indulge in. Your dad works in the accounting side of one of the largest law firms in the city, he knows that much from his research. Knows that your immediate family has more money than probably all of his relatives combined. Alive and dead.

He just isn't aware that you're not seeing a single dime of it. Not since you dropped out of the economics and business side of school to focus on the creative arts. All that money your parents had 'wasted' on your education? Well, they weren't wasting any more.

Because you're a commodity, to be bought and sold, apparently. Not their daughter, who they should have just wanted to be happy.

So now you spend your Tuesday and Thursday evenings down in Daerim.

Because you are a commodity; and if anyone's gonna be selling you, then it may as well be your fucking self.

A stack of yellow 50,000 won bills sit on your desk. Twelve of them. 600,000 won. Not bad for a week's work. 6 hours.

Might have been cut off from your Dad's money, but your replacement 'daddy' wasn't a bad substitute.

The bluntness of such a statement usually makes you laugh, but not today.

If Jungkook knows the Daerim area like you think he does, then he'll be able to work it out soon enough. A bitterness fills your chest, like coffee dripping through a filter, forgotten about and left to go cold. You've been so good at playing pretend.

Secrets are so much easier to keep when they're not shared.

Perhaps that should be your project piece.

Secrets of Seoul: The Seedy Underbelly of The City.

After all, that was your unique view of the city; the side you saw that you were pretty sure no-one else did.

At least, no one else except Jungkook. Go figure.

"SEVEN WEEKS LEFT!" Your professor reminds the class as they dismiss you from your lecture. There's a little chatter, partners sharing ideas and friends discussing what to have for lunch - and then there's you and Jungkook.

He waits by the end of his row for you to walk to meet him, an inconspicuous look on his face.

The girl who he's watching neatly put a fluffy pen into her handbag looks a lot like you, but a hell of a lot different from the girl he gave a lift to last night.

Who the fuck are you?

Jungkook has always liked a little mystery. Seen the romanticism in the unknown. Still doesn't like you - but you've gotten him curious.

"You haven't sent anything over yet," he notes, keeping a slight distance from you as you walk together up the stairs.

"You told me not to bombard you," you remind him.

"Sending me video files once in a blue moon is fine."

"Once in a blue moon. Gotcha."

It's Friday, so he knows it's not one of your pre-determined days of having prior engagements.

It's only now that he realises that must have been why you were in Daerim last night; that your 'errands' are actually scheduled into your routine. It doesn't bode well for his 'not a hooker, an addict or a sugar-baby' theory.

"I was thinking of heading over to Dongdaemun this evening, seeing as you weren't free on Tuesday," he starts a little awkwardly, but the more he speaks, the easier it becomes. Being nice, that is. "I could still use a hand, if you're free? If you're serious about helping out, I mean. It would be good to make a start on things."

Relief washes over you. You've been fearing a conversation about the night before, but Jungkook doesn't want to talk about it just as much as you don't.

You meet him at seven o'clock that evening at Dongdaemun Design Plaza. You've always loved the green roof, how organic the landscaping looks above such a futuristic building. He listens as you explain this, eyes wide and in awe of the sloping pathways and curved walls, showing him your favourite of all the trees in the park.

Jungkook looks at you for a second, observes your hands, how they delicately move a few leaves to frame the shot you're taking. You've a Midas touch, and Jungkook wonders if your fingers would turn him to gold, too.

It's a silly, fleeting thought, but it doesn't stop him from focusing the camera on you as you roam Dongdaemun night market later that evening, lights cascading over you like glitter.

He thinks you're pretty in this light. Pretty when it's just him and you. No distractions.

Except there's hustle and bustle everywhere, a vendor chasing a thief, groups of high schoolers laughing on their way home from Hagwons, food sizzling, vapours making his stomach rumble. Perhaps you're the distraction, instead.

The pair of you spend the next week traipsing the city together.

Somehow, you only ever come together when the sun goes down, but it's fitting. You're a pair of nightcrawlers, swarming through the city when traffic sounds like a melody and destinations are unknown.

He learns that you drink your coffee black, no sugar, lukewarm. You learn that he'd rather rub coffee granules into his eyes than drink it.

And despite your preference for no sugar, he always tosses a little white sachet towards you whenever you order a coffee. He finds it funny. Insists that you have to be a sugar baby. It's the only way he can explain that night he saw you Daerim.

He's just joking. And you pretend not to, but you find it hysterical.

Mainly because he doesn't realise how bang on the money he is.

But also because you can't help but laugh whenever he does.

There's a comfort that grows between the pair of you, a familiarity. A casual ease that doesn't feel dangerous, not even when he's pulsing through the city on his bike, you holding onto him, his leather jacket wrapped around your body. You begin to like the way that the wind feels in your hair, and you stop wearing fake lashes. Jungkook doesn't tell you, but he likes you better with a few freckles showing, dewy highlighter and a little mascara being the only makeup you wear for the midnight city roams.

It's only because you can't be wasting resources reserved for clients on a boy from your film studies class. Times are tough, money is tight. No point in pouring funds into a boy you won't make revenue from. It's a bad business decision.

A few months ago, you did your makeup multiple times a day just for fun. Now you have to ration it. Life... life isn't what it used to be.

But Jungkook is ignorant to that, and you quite like it. Escaping from your reality. Becoming the version of yourself that he thinks you are.

He isn't sure which version of you he wants to spend time with the most; the too-good for him daddy's girl who dresses in Celine and comes with a pout, the enigma who lurks in the shadows that he thought he had a monopoly over, or the master director who seems to rival his talents for capturing moments of life in 4K.

As he watches your brows furrow while you turn your phone upside down, trying to understand a map, he decides that he doesn't care which version he gets.

Jungkook wants what he wants.

There's an impulsion to his desires and subsequent actions that he takes to obtain them. He's driven by gratification, and little else.

On the days he wants to feel wanted, he'll go to a bar. He never whispers false promises or pretends like he's after anything more than what can be achieved in a single night. The girls he goes for tend to see that as a challenge. They think they can convince him otherwise. It's not his fault when they can't. It's not his fault that they end up falling for him regardless. It's not his fault that he never has any intention of loving them back.

He tells them this. They ignore him. It isn't his fault.

On the days he wants to feel accomplished, he'll stay on campus until the cleaners usher him out of the room so that they can prepare it for the next day. Their insistence is lost on him - no amount of Cif can polish the dirt out of the walls. Once a shithole, always a shithole. He'll offer his apologies for getting in their way, and they'll coo over him like he's their own grandson. It's all very sweet.

They tell him not to overwork himself. He lies and says he won't.

On the days he wants to eat more than a single cup of ramyeon - which is most days, given his absolutely mammoth appetite - he'll send Hobi a text and request more drop-offs for that evening. Yoongi will give Jungkook a subtle look whenever a message from Hobi pings through, knowing it mustn't be good news. It never is.

Jungkook tells Yoongi to mind his business - but with a grin and a glint in his eye that eases his friends worry ever so slightly.

Disapproval never stops Jungkook from doing what he wants, regardless.

Not from his friends, from the cleaning ajummas, and especially not from you.

So he ignores the look in your eye, as he encourages you to follow him through a gap in the chainlink fence, which surrounds a disused water tower on the outskirts of the city.

Jungkook wants what he wants.

And right now, he wants to get a shot of the midnight city from his favourite vantage point.

"You said you've taken thousands of shots here," You hiss as a twig snaps beneath your foot. He smirks as you utter out a curse. "Surely you can just reuse one of those?!"

He guides you round, ignoring the ground level rubble, until you get to a ladder that definitely isn't safe for use. It's rusting by the bolts, and has a few vines trailing up it, undisturbed for months. Remnants of paint are flaking from the structure, collecting like ashes on the ground below.

"I have," he shrugs, unhooking your camera bag from your shoulder, popping it into his rucksack for safe keeping. He crouches, putting his palms upwards to offer you a leg up. "You haven't, though. You see the city differently to me, remember?"

He's taunting you. Reusing the phrase from your Professor that you had quoted to him on the first day of the project. Asshole.

Asshole with a smirk that suggests he's only teasing. Suggests that he's fond. Words that suggest he remembers the things you say to him. Memorises them, even.

Curious.

"Can't we just pretend like we see it the same way?"

"No can do, sugar."

"Oh my god, stop calling me that."

You're thankful for the midnight sky and the way it disguises your blush.

As if throwing packets of the white stuff at your face in coffee shops isn't enough, he's taken to calling you 'sugar', too.

"Give me a reason not to," he says as he tilts his head, encouraging you to accept his leg up. You check your feet for mud, then put your trust in his grip.

"I've already told you, I was just running errands," you defend yourself for the thousandth time. A short yelp escapes your lips as he boosts you up, your hands gripping onto the flaking bars beside the ladder.

He doesn't believe you for a second. He also doesn't believe that you're actually a sugar baby. It's just fun to fuck with you a little.

Once you're up, he waits for you to safely sit on the ledge, and then he makes the climb too. He's up a lot quicker than you, coming to sit beside you with his legs dangling over the ledge of the railings.

"Tell me it isn't worth it," Jungkook says a little airily, enamoured with the view.

And he's right. It is worth it.

A maze of city lights twinkle like the Carina nebula, interstellar, yet entirely of this earth. Bright whites, reds and greens speckle the horizon, and for a moment, it's easy to forget that you're looking at Seoul. There's a magic that can only be appreciated from a distance, far away from the scent of alleyways and the void nothingness of grey brick buildings. Skyscrapers tower above the skyline, but still look small from where you and Jungkook sit, silently, in awe.

"Look over there," he points across the vast expanse. You follow his trajectory, but you have no idea if you're picking out the right spot. "Daerim. Can always tell. Know the street layout too well."

"You're gonna get me thinking you're a sugar baby," you nudge your shoulder into his, and he laughs.

Reaching into his rucksack, you expect him to pull out your camera. Instead, his hand comes back into vision holding a pair of chopsticks and a tub of instant ramyeon. Uncooked.

He pulls the seal back, stabs at it with the chopsticks and offers you the small chunk he's broken off.

"It's good," he promises.

You know what dried ramyeon tastes like. You know it's good. You just can't understand what the fuck is wrong with him.

"Are you broken?"

He grins as he tosses the chunk of dried noodles into his own mouth. "Absolutely - but ramyeon is ramyeon."

You tell him he's weird, and he continues to smile, not resisting as you take the tub from him and break off a chunk with your fingers.

It's one of his favourite snacks. He's impatient and impulsive at the best of times. Waiting for it to cook? Too much effort. Cooking it at the convenience store and carrying it up the tower with him? Disaster waiting to happen. It's just easier this way.

And so the pair of you sit, not really saying much, watching the city roll by. Every now and again, he offers you a chunk from his chopsticks.

By the end of the night, neither of you have gotten any footage of the city.

And neither of you really care.

AS YOU SPRINT home after yet another spree around the city with Jungkook, running late for your Thursday evening appointment, you curse your inability to send his calls to voicemail.

You should really be working more. You need to be working more - but for the past four weeks now, you've answered every single one of his calls.

His messages? Yeah, you ignore those. He's learnt this, though. He messages you regardless, because... well, because he wants to, quite frankly. He doesn't give a shit if you respond.

He knows you read them.

He knows you saw that picture he sent of a flyer detailing a live art event last week. He knows that you noticed the veins on his arms.

You don't know that he'd spent a couple of minutes tensing his arm before he took the picture. Deliberately.

It's been said before that Jungkook wants what he wants - and what he wants more than anything, frustratingly, is your attention.

The way you study his arms the next time you see him proves that he's gotten it.

If anything, the delayed gratification makes it so much more worthwhile.

You have been thinking about him.

So as far as Jungkook is concerned, you can ignore his messages all you like, because you still always answer his calls with an airy 'hi,' as if talking to him takes your breath away.

The only time you don't answer is between the hours of eleven and two on Tuesday and Thursday evenings.

Chances are, if he just so happens to be in the area - which he always is - he'll catch you down on the wrong side of the tracks at just gone quarter past two.

He still calls you 'sugar', teasing you for the reputation of the area. You just roll your eyes and grin, then banter with him about how even if you were a sugar baby, he wouldn't be able to afford your prices.

He argues that he'd pay in ways that didn't include monetary value.

You don't ask him to expand.

But as you wipe your watery lash line in the bathroom of a shitty rental apartment in Daerim, you think about what he could have meant. If he actually meant it.

The TV blares from the living room, faint vapours of a mango e-cigarette wafting through the gap beneath the door. You've always thought mango smells like cat piss. Rancid.

Whatever Jungkook could have meant didn't matter. His flirty tone and angel eyes didn't pay the bills. The cash tossed down on the bathroom counter did - or more specifically, the widower, who occasionally wanted company from a pretty young girl, did.

A hundred thousand won for an hour, three hundred thousand total. It takes you just a week, two appointments, to make up the month's rent - but you still need to eat, to study, survive.

And so you return, every week.

It's not his actual apartment. He lives over in Gangnam, close to his kids' schools. More money than sense. He doesn't tell you much about his personal life. You think a lot of his small claims are lies, anyway - but you smile and flutter your lashes as if he's reciting bible verses.

Some nights are better than others. Sometimes, he genuinely makes you laugh. Occasionally, he'll ask you what you want to do. Takes you to museums. Fancy dinners. Theatre shows.

But he has a nasty streak, and in those three hours, you're his. He owns you. There's no sex, that's not the arrangement, but his hands have been known to roam, and the disparity of equality within your working relationship becomes apparent. You brush it off, tell yourself that it's natural for a man engaging with you in a romantic capacity to forget the rules. You tell yourself that it's okay.

The churning in your stomach and dis-ease of such a situation tells you that no, it isn't okay. But if you laugh at his painfully unfunny jokes loud enough, you're able to drown out the noise in your head.

The worst nights are the ones where he pays you extra.

There's no discussion anymore. The stack of notes is just thicker than usual upon arrival, and you know that at some point during the night, you'll have to sit in silence and watch as he sinks his hand down into his pants.

It's easy to forget the way it looks. Your eyes glaze over, and the discomfort, the slight disgust, indicated in your features gets him hard. He thinks it's taboo. Thinks you enjoy it too. That your panties look a lot like his hand by the time he's finished.

The snort-like grunts are what you find hard to forget. The wail of a moan that comes when he does. You hear that shit in your nightmares.

But it earns you an extra two hundred thousand, so you endure it because you don't have much of an option at this point.

Come 2 AM, cash stuffed down your bra, you don't have to think about it anymore. The fresh air of the city, a little smoggy and polluted, hits you like a freight train. You thank it.

When Jungkook enters Daerim that evening, he expects to find you. He normally does. You never look particularly happy - in fact, he often tells you that you've got a face like a slapped arse - but it's more so today.

He whistles from across the street, clad in black, a thick hoodie keeping him warm beneath his leather jacket. "Oi, Sugar," he calls, that boyish grin on his lips. Teeth so pretty you wonder how much novocaine it would take for you to be numb to the way it makes your stomach flip.

Eyes dancing up and down your body, he likes what you're wearing. Black tights, black dress that cuts off at your mid-thigh, a sweetheart neckline and chiffon sleeves that puff around your slender arms. He decides your boots are far more sensible than the heels you're usually in.

"That'll be twenty thousand, Jeon," you call back, arms folded over your chest as you change direction to walk towards him.

"Per hour?"

"Per every time you call me that stupid fucking name."

"What would you rather?" he goads, leaning against a window ledge on the back of a restaurant building. There's nothing down the alleyway, just trashbags and the distinct scent of fermenting piss. "Shugs? SB? Baby?"

You smirk, walking to the wall opposite him, mirroring his position, hands resting beside you on the ledge. There's a safe distance between the pair of you. A look, but don't touch type of vibe - but this time, unlike earlier on in your evening, you actually enjoy it.

"You really gotta make your mind up," your eyes roll, lips rising into a crescent. "One minute I'm a trust-fund princess with Daddy's money on tap, the next I'm a sugar baby with a different type of Daddy altogether."

Jungkook shrugs. "Just don't see why you waste your evenings roaming fucking Daerim of all places."

"Best dandanmian in the city," you say, referencing the abundance of traditional Chinese restaurants in the area. "Can't get the authentic stuff in Itaewon."

"Can't get hookers in Itaewon like you can in Daerim, either," he taunts you.

He doesn't really think you're a hooker, but he likes the way you grin whenever your eyes roll.

"Ah, so that's why you're here."

He holds his hands up to playfully admit defeat. "Guilty."

You laugh, knowing that there's no way in hell Jungkook will ever have to resort to hookers. Not when he looks like that. All doe-eyed and charming, floppy hair just begging for a pair of hands to run through it.

The pair of you let the moment simmer, droplets of water dripping from the drainpipe and into the sewer. He's lit by the neon light of a restaurant sign, red and yellow painting him like an impressionist masterpiece.

"You look cold," he acknowledges, but you shake your head and insist you're fine. Your hair is a little damp from the small shower you'd been caught in a little while previously, mascara smudged around your eyes. You looked like that before the rain, mind you. He shakes his jacket off and tosses it across to you, snorting quietly as it hits your face and crumples over your feet. "C'mon. I'm now about to ride home. I'll give you a lift."

He asks for your address, and you tell him that you'll just get a taxi from his place like you normally do. There's no need for him to go out of his way.

"The princess doesn't want the pauper to see her castle, huh?" he teases, always talking in bloody riddles.

"See!" you protest. "Always changing your mind! A minute ago I was a sugar baby, and now I'm a rich bitch again. Which is it, Jeon?"

"I dunno," he reaches behind himself, adjusting your legs and pulling you a little closer into his back, tapping your side to make sure you've got the jacket on. "You tell me, sugar."

He doesn't see you roll your eyes, but he knows you do it. You always do. Even when your pretty pink nails are clutching the fabric of his shirt, you pretend like you don't enjoy his company.

You've gotten good at playing pretend.

Jungkook only jokes about you being a sugar baby.

He doesn't fathom that you actually are one.

His engine begins to purr, and Jungkook kicks up the stand, setting off into the night.

The way you hold onto his waist is different tonight.

Physically, it's the same.

But it feels different.

And it is, because you're not just holding onto him; you're hugging him. Comfort in an old routine. You adjust your arms, keeping tight against his back, and he pretends like he doesn't notice the shift in dynamic.

He pretends as if he didn't notice your sad eyes earlier, too, and as if he can't feel the stutter in your chest as if you're trying not to cry.

Jungkook isn't a knight on a white horse, and nor does he want to be - but he doesn't mind being your rogue bandit who steals you away from the things that make you sad.

He's just an arc in your fairytale, not your happy ending.

But you've always been a sucker for a bit of a plot twist.

When you arrive at his, he wants to ask you to stay. He doesn't want an orange taxi cab to appear at the end of his lane and act like your actual knight in shining armour. He doesn't want you to ride into the sunrise with anyone but him.

And as luck would have it, your phone shares his desires.

Well, no. It doesn't. It's a mobile phone. It doesn't have cognitive thoughts - but it is out of charge.

"Different charging ports," he grits his teeth as he holds up his Samsung after you ask if he's got an iPhone charger. "I'm pretty sure I have an apple cable lying about though. You can come in for a second, get a little bit of charge just so that you're not stranded in a taxi without a way to contact anyone."

You nod appreciatively. "You sure?"

He doesn't answer, instead holding his door open and ushering you inside.

Jungkook cares in strange ways. He's practical, forward-thinking, trying to find solutions to problems that you'd normally shrug your shoulders at.

He's never told anyone that he loves them before, but he did once swap the hinges on his ex-girlfriend's bathroom door to the other side, so that it would stop hitting the sink basin every time she opened it. He shows his affections in meaningful ways, often without being asked or expecting anything in return.

Neither of you realise it yet, but this is one of those occasions.

It's not until you're perched on the worktop bench in his kitchen that he realises he let you in without hesitation. No longer embarrassed of where he lived, he kind of likes having you here.

You look out of place, silver pendant round your neck, expensive, and hair professionally coloured, nails done, toes, too. Not that he can see them. He just remembers a conversation you had once over chicken and a beer about the fact your toes always matched your nails.

Small details like that are what he thinks about when he's alone; like the way you blink a little faster when you're confused, and how you sprinkle Cheeto dust back into the bag off of your fingers instead of licking them like he does. He thinks about the way you laugh in his company, and how he's never heard you laugh like that with anyone else. And he tries to stop, but dammit, he thinks about how sexed up you look on those Daerim nights.

You're dressing like that for someone else, he knows that much.

But he gets to indulge in it too, when your body is pressed against his back as he takes you home.

He's stopped asking what you do in Daerim. He doesn't want to know.

For a few minutes a night, when he's alone, he likes to pretend what it would be like if he was the one you were dressed like that for. Only ever a minute or so. Gets him too hot. Finishes him off too quickly. Absolute sin.

"Kook?"

He doesn't even realise he's halted his movements until your voice breaks him from his thoughts. His jeans tonight are tight, and do a pretty good job of hiding the swelling between his legs. Fucking uncomfortable, though.

"Sorry," he doesn't turn to face you. "Was just trying to remember where I last had the cable."

"I was just saying that it's fine. It's really not that far. Don't wanna be a bother."

"Why'd you say shit like that?" he turns to face you, face twisted a little. He's annoyed.

"Like what?"

"Call yourself a bother. You do it a lot."

"I don't."

"You do," he insists, and you can't work out why he's so annoyed by it. You want to apologise all over again. "You just-" he takes a moment to find the right words. "I dunno who's conditioned you into thinking everything you do is bothersome, but it really isn't. If I didn't wanna help, then I wouldn't. It's not a bother. You're not a bother."

And you don't know why, but for some reason, you choke up a little. It's not like he said anything particularly groundbreaking, it's just for the last few months, your entire existence has felt like a drain on those around you.

The money you can live without, but you miss family dinners on Sundays, and face timing your little sister, more than you can even begin to explain.

And while no, you didn't want your parents' money, you didn't want to keep seeing a perverted old man just to be able to afford to eat, either. The flat rate was 500,000 now. Every single time. Without fail. You hadn't put the price up. He was just always paying extra. Always touching his prick. Always jerking himself off over your repulsion.

Earlier that evening, he had queried how much it would cost him to finish on your chest. You told him a million. He asked if you accepted bank transfers. You told him no. He offered 1.2 mil.

Part of you considered it. It's a lot of money. Not something to be taken lightly.

But when you ran into Jungkook, just like you knew you would, you were adamant you had made the right choice. He had scanned your body, getting a read on your mood, assessing what you needed, what you wanted, and then had offered up his jacket. All doe-eyed and sparkling. You finally got what all the girls swooned over, 'cause you were doing it too.

"Hey," he says softly, noticing the way your eyes are reddening. "Hey, hey, no. Don't cry, sugar."

You laugh through the first couple of tears. Stupid fucking nickname.

"I meant it," you sniff, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hands. He's standing closer now, hesitant to touch, hands hovering around you. "20 thousand won, Jeon. Pay up."

His fingers tenderly wrap around your wrists, keeping them from rubbing at your face again. He's smiling, eyes ever encompassing, cheeks so appled that you bet you could get drunk off the cider he'd produce.

"Can we do it on an I.O.U. basis?" he speaks quietly, playfully. "I get paid on Monday."

It's a lie. He gets his commission cut straight from his sales figures. There's 2 million won in his rucksack. He only gets ten percent. 200K. His job's not nearly half as lucrative as yours, but it's still nothing to be laughed at. He's making bank.

"Nuh-uh," you sniff again, letting out a little laugh. He laughs too. "Told you that you couldn't afford me."

And then it's silent. You can hear your heartbeat. He moves a little closer.

"Told you I'd just pay in other ways."

His voice is hoarse, as if he's scared.

As if he fears the consequences of his claim.

Your eyes drop to his lips. They're trembling slightly. Preparing.

The grip he has on your wrists loosens. He's giving you freedom. He's giving you the chance to back out, to run away.

But you don't.

"Pay up, then," you all-but whisper, lips closing on his.

Jungkook doesn't stall, no, but it takes him a second to respond. To realise.

And once he does, his brows furrow into the kiss, demanding that you know just how much he wants this. Wants you. Has done for weeks, now.

He pulls your body into his, needing you close. Your body curves, his arm hooked behind your back to keep you balanced.

A surge of intensity washes over you like crimson paint. It'll stain you, and everyone will know: That's her. That's the girl who let Jeon Jungkook kiss her like he actually meant it.

He kisses, and he kisses, and he kisses, and he doesn't stop, as if he knows his first with you will also be his last - and when he finally does stop, forehead on yours, the pair of you are breathing so heavily into each other's mouths that it's as if you're sharing oxygen. Keeping each other alive. Both capable of first-degree murder.

And so neither of you pull away. There's no way he's doing time for you. There's no way you're doing time for him. Looks like you'll just have to kiss forever. Shame. Such a hardship. However will you cope?

"I-" he begins, before cutting himself off, easing his grip on your waist. One of his hands lingers, while the other pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes wincing. "Shit-" he finally lets you go. "I don't know what that was. I'm sorry."

You want to tell him that it's okay, that you didn't mind, that he could do it again - but it's clear he doesn't agree.

"Just adrenaline," you offer, sinking down to perch on the worktop bench. Your defeated posture is hidden well like this. "Don't sweat it."

He stays silent as he turns around to resume his rummaging, looking for a charger that will fit your phone. He knows there's one in there, he just can't for the life of him remember when he last had it.

Everything feels a little awkward. You half think that you should fill the void with something, that you should break the ice, but what was the point? You'll be out of his hair soon.

And you are, home twenty minutes later. You had only charged your phone for ten minutes at his, just enough to get you home. It's about to die again. Not before Jungkook pings you a message, though.

He doesn't expect a response, but he lies awake until he sees your read receipt confirm that you've seen it.

Sadness doesn't suit you, sugar. I'm not gonna pry, but if you ever need a ride earlier than normal out of Daerim, give me a call.

He spent a good six minutes debating whether or not to end his message with a kiss, eventually deciding against it. No need to make the message any softer than it already was.

To his surprise, a bubble pops up on your side of the chat thread.

His heart twinges, your response saying everything he wished he had with just one simple letter:

JUNGKOOK HAS A terrible habit of taking out his stress on the people around him; the ones that he holds closest.

"I just don't see why it's such a big issue," Jimin says through a mouthful of salad greens. His teeth chomp so loudly that Jungkook thinks they'll have to swing by the dentistry labs later that afternoon. Which Jimin'll probably like, considering he won't stop fucking rambling on about a dentistry student at the moment. "She's hot, she's got guys practically falling at her feet and she's interested in you. It's one party. Stop being so fucking boring."

Yoongi casts Jungkook a sympathetic look. He doesn't work so much at the moment, what with his chemistry finals coming up, and especially not in the Daerim area.

That's Jungkook's market now - but he did happen to have a drop-off for a last-minute order a couple of weeks back. Territory isn't an issue between the friends, with Jungkook respecting Yoongi far too much to ever tell him to back off, or to not take deals in that area.

He had been about to approach Jungkook that night, when he noticed you crossing the street, a smile plastered on your face. He couldn't see Jungkook's face from the angle he was at, but he could see how raised his cheeks were. And so he left the pair of you to it, knowing better than to stick his nose where it wasn't wanted.

Unlike Jimin, apparently.

"Not boring," Jungkook retorts, tossing the wrapper his chopsticks came in at Jimin's face. "Got a bunch of assignments due in."

"Dude, you've been MIA for weeks. If we didn't have classes together, I'd have sent out a search party by now."

"You're being dramatic."

"You're being boring."

"Kids, settle down," Yoongi interjects, and wonders why he doesn't just find friends his own age. Logistics, he decides. The perils of having to save up for university before he could actually attend.

Jimin, being Jimin, then proceeds to bicker with Yoongi, leaving Jungkook free to find your face amongst the canteen crowd. You're sat with friends, none of whom he's ever met.

Your hair is up, like it always is during school, but you've let your grown out bangs frame your face. Pretty, he thinks. Prettiest girl here.

But then you stand up, and Jungkook turns caveman. Head empty. No thoughts. Just nonsense. Jesus Christ. Who gave you the right? God damn.

A few months ago, he would have looked at you in that outfit - a silky sage green playsuit over a white tee, sunglasses resting on your head like an alice band and a pair of white converse on your feet - and he probably would have scoffed. Wouldda said some bullshit about the fact you're dressed like a child, or that the weather isn't good enough to warrant such an outfit.

A few months ago, he was a fucking idiot.

You feel his gaze on you, just like you always do.

And you ignore it.

You've been getting good at that. Pretending as if you don't feel his eyes. As if you're unaffected, unbothered by the simplest form of intimacy: a single look.

He knows you've been keeping your distance. Watching from afar is all he can do when you slink out of class before he can catch your attention. He tells himself that he doesn't care.

Jungkook mutes the audio track of the editing software he uses when he stitches together your footage, so he doesn't have to relive your conversations or hear you laugh, or worse, hear himself laugh.

It's all a bit nauseating.

Maybe a party would actually be a good distraction.

"Tonight, did you say?" Jungkook pipes up out of nowhere, only dragging his eyes away from you when he sees you pull your phone out to send a text.

He pouts. You never text him. Not once since last Thursday.

And you were nowhere to be seen on Tuesday.

He had called you, and for once, you didn't pick up. He didn't try again. Decided that it was on you just as much as it was on him.

That being said, he didn't get home till four in the morning, two and half hours after his last deal. Spaffed away an entire tank of petrol. Rode in fucking circles. Just in case.

"Now we're talking!" Jimin grins. "Tonight. It's her birthday, she's rented a bar in Itaewon - Dad knows the landlord or something."

Jungkook didn't know who 'she' was. Hadn't been listening to that part of the conversation.

"Well, you kids enjoy yourselves," Yoongi sighs as he gets to his feet. "Can't risk my finals over a few crappy drinks in a shitty bar."

"Oh boo-hoo!" Jimin pouts. "Spoilsport."

When Jungkook enters the bar that evening, he's greeted with everything he expects. E-cigarette vapours cloud the air, a cocktail of flavours violating his senses as he heads to the bar, shitty EDM pumping through the speakers. It's been a while since he let his hair down, so to speak.

There's something about him that commands attention. People gravitate towards him, even through the smoke clouds and sweaty bodies. Girls buy him drinks. Guys buy him drinks, too. Anything just to spend time in his presence. Like leeches, they hope to share some of Jungkook's aura.

It's impossible, though. It's Jungkook's authenticity that gives him such charisma. Trying to emulate it only ever comes off as tacky - like the guy towards the back of the room who's permed his hair to look like Jungkook's. Pierced his eyebrow, too. Looks like shit. Jungkook doesn't want to judge him, but he's a few drinks deep, and being kind is what got him into that mess with you in the first place.

No good ever comes from being nice.

He takes a shot. Tequila. Chases it down with lemonade. The girl next to him is playing with the bracelets on his wrist. Her nails scratch a little bit, and he quite likes it, so he doesn't resist when pulls him onto the dancefloor. He observes the way she moves first, and isn't disappointed. She knows how to move her hips, and seems to like it when he puts his hands on them. He can't really feel the sensation when she kisses him. The alcohol has numbed his lips. Maybe Jimin was right to force him into this.

By the time he goes to the bar for another drink, he's faded. Off his tits. Helped himself to some of Hobi's stash that he was supposed to be distributing that evening. A little bit of coke never does him any harm. He knows his limits. Tastes like shit down the back of his throat, but he kind of enjoys it.

At first, he thinks he must be seeing things when he catches you with an espresso martini in hand, laughing with people he doesn't know.

You've this whole life that he's no part of. A whole entire world. He really is an outsider looking in.

You're one of the elite; an old-money heiress. The type to own a miniature dog breed and only fly business class. It was stupid of him to think your interest in him had been anything more than entertainment. A 'little bit of rough.' Excitement away from the confines of the life he's sure your parents must have planned out for you.

It might just be because he's coked up, but he doesn't care about any of that.

All he can think about is the fact he's pretty sure you've never looked more beautiful.

He feels so lost looking at you like this, as if he needs to be closer, for fear of losing sight of you entirely.

And so he sits beside you at the bar, orders his drink, waits for you to notice him. Which you do.

You'd spotted him the very second you walked into the bar, his hands all over some girl you don't know.

In all fairness, you didn't realise he would be there. Sohyun, the girl whose birthday it was and an old friend from high school, has been fawning over Jungkook for months. Just superficial drawling, comments about his thighs and the fact she'd quite like to be suffocated by them. Harmless, really. You know she's never actually made a move.

Sohyun doesn't know you're working on a project together. You avoid the topic of him altogether, especially with her.

But she does notice the way Jungkook is looking at you like he's seen a ghost; haunted and comforted all in the same expression.

"You're here," he finally says, and it feels as if your chest is about to cave in.

Turning to face him, you're casual in your posture. Unbothered. Completely unaffected by him, and the lipstick that's painting those lips of his that you like so much.

You raise your thumb and swipe it across his bottom lip. He's silent as you do so, watching you, holding his breath. His lip moves like rubber beneath your touch, soft and supple, springing back into position once you release it.

You raise your thumb to study the lipstick you've collected from him. "Plum's really not your colour, Jungkook."

He doesn't say anything, a little transfixed. It's barely ticked past midnight. You should be in Daerim.

In all fairness, so should he. Hobi had some choice words for Jungkook when he told him that he wasn't working that evening at such short notice.

You swipe open your phone and repeat the step, filming your thumb as Jungkook becomes captive to your touch. You want to look, to see how wide his dark eyes are, but you're too busy feigning disinterest.

"There," you smile, forwarding the video along before you lock your phone. "Just sent you a video of how I see the city tonight."

You've no right to be annoyed. You know that.

Jungkook can be in a bar with another girl's lipstick on his chin if wants to be. He can stay out all night, and he can stay in beds that aren't his. It's his prerogative.

But you are annoyed.

It's irrational, and pathetic, and you shouldn't be.

You barely know him. Not really.

After you'd shown him your favourite tree at the Design Plaza a few weeks ago, he'd insisted on taking you across town to Garosugil, a street in Gangnam lined with beautiful tall trees. He questioned why you only had one favourite tree, when you could have had an entire row of them instead.

At the time, you'd enjoyed the way his eyes looked beneath the lights of the designer stores that neither of you could afford. You didn't question what he had meant.

It seems like you found your answer.

"I'm not the city," he eventually says.

And he's right.

He's not the city.

Fuck it, no, he's not the city, but his eyes sparkle like Itaewon on Friday nights, and his hands are strong like the World Cup Bridge. He's not the city, but you find it so easy to get lost in him without a map, and sometimes wearing his leather jacket makes you feel like you're eating comfort food at your favourite breakfast bar over in Myeong-dong. He's not the city.

He's not the goddamn city.

But it feels a little like you'd accidentally anchored your navigation pin in him regardless.

All you do is smile, and tell him that he's right.

"Look," he begins, and you can smell the spiced rum on his breath.

"It's okay," you interrupt. Who are you to make him feel guilty for his promiscuous encounters?

He doesn't know what you do in the dark. Not really. If he did, he probably wouldn't have kissed you last week.

"No, I-" he cuts himself off like he always does when he doesn't wanna fuck up his words. The alcohol is doing him absolutely zero favours. "I dunno, sugar."

Your smile is sad, and he hates himself. You lean forward, press a kiss into his rosy cheek and whisper, "That'll be 20,000, Jeon."

And because he's drunk, and he wants to make things better, he reaches for his wallet. You were about to walk away regardless, but damn, if the boy doesn't know how to hit you where it hurts.

"Really, Kook?"

It's like he doesn't know you at all; doesn't remember how you banter with him, how you flirt with him. Or maybe you were just stupid for thinking that you'd been flirting with him in the first place. Maybe he just speaks to everyone how he speaks to you. Must have spoken to whoever was wearing that lipstick in the same way.

He doesn't answer, not verbally, but his brows pinch together and his lips develop a frowning pout.

When he stumbles home that evening, he asks himself the same question: really, Kook?

In the morning, he wakes alone, with no recollection of how he got home.

He doesn't remember the girl from the bar, or the fact that Jimin threw up in a fish tank, or that they're now barred from three different establishments for encouraging people to snort fish food (which Jungkook had stolen while Jimin was emptying his stomach). Regretfully, he doesn't even remember your arrival at the first bar. Doesn't remember how, for once, you'd dressed to impress just him.

His lack of recollection means fuck all though, 'cause despite his headache, the thing weighing down most heavily on him is guilt. He feels a sense of duty when it comes to you; duty that he hasn't performed lately. Were you getting home safe? Getting harrassed by scummy fuckers on the Daerim path of destruction?

Out of habit, he checks his phone, ignores the messages from unknown numbers and goes straight to your message thread to check the damage. He's surprised to find that he didn't drunk text you, but even more surprised to find that you'd messaged him. It's a video, just a few seconds, but it's enough to provoke some of his memories back.

He watches your thumb as it glides across his bottom lip. Watches it again. Notices the lipstick. Notices the thumb ring he never realised you wore before, and the fact that your nails are black now instead of their usual pink. There's something erotic about it; the way you touch him. The way you filmed yourself touching him. He'll probably get in trouble for it, but there's no way he isn't adding that to your project.

You consider ignoring his call when your phone flashes with his caller I.D.

It's only just gone seven, and you're still in bed, still try to make heads or tails of your life.

But you're weak, and so you slide your thumb across the little green icon.

"Hey."

"Uh, hey."

"You good?"

"So hungover, I think I might die," Jungkook jokes, voice hoarse. You wonder if he always sounds like this in the morning. "Just wanted to check in with you though. Barely seen you all week, and then I end up with a weird-ass video in our message thread that I don't remember."

Ah. You cringe.

"Ran into you at the bar," you shrug, not that he can see you. "Didn't realise you were friends with Sohyun."

"Hmm?"

"Sohyun... the girl who's birthday it was?"

"Oh. Right. Yeah. Nah, no, not really friends with her. Jimin forced me along."

You don't know all that much about Jimin, but from your limited interactions with him, it doesn't surprise you. Not in the slightest.

"Good night?"

Your question sounds forced and awkward, and he doesn't quite understand why.

"No idea," he admits honestly. "Remember fuck all."

He sounds as if he wants to keep talking but doesn't know what to say.

You don't know what to say either.

It's a mess. You liked it better when he hated you.

"Were you at the bar for long?" He asks, genuinely curious. "You're normally busy on Thursdays?"

"Just a drink. Had a last-minute change of plans."

"Oh?"

"Yeah..."

You know he wants you to elaborate. He wants more without having to explicitly ask for it.

Which is apt. Seems like it's a common occurrence with Jungkook.

"So what did you call for?" you change the topic, not wanting to dwell. The aversion doesn't go unnoticed by him, but it does go unquestioned.

"I-" there he goes again, cutting himself off prematurely. Coward. "Are you free? Now?"

Oh.

Not a coward. Just cautious.

"Now? I mean, yeah, I guess."

Jungkook takes a second, and then he bites down on the grenade pin.

"Can you come over?"

THE WAY YOU keep Jungkook hanging on tenterhooks is deliberate.

You're unsure of him, of his motivations, and what he does in the dark. And so, while you want to let your guard down, you can't. It's probably something to do with your parents - the people who are supposed to love you unconditionally - making their love entirely conditional and withdrawing it so suddenly.

It's the kind of shit you would have spoken about with your therapist, but you can't afford her anymore.

Can't afford much of anything, anymore. So much of the money you've earnt recently is tied up in credit card debt or rent.

Foundation was the first luxury that you'd compromised, and you're still yet to buy any more. Cheap stuff always makes you break out, and thankfully your parents did give you decent genetics, at least, so your skin was pretty clear.

It's the lack of make up that suggests to Jungkook you're opening up; not hiding from him anymore.

But it's also what tells him something is incredibly wrong, when you show up at his door half an hour later with a graze beneath your eye. Little flecks of reddened skin creep up your cheekbone, and Jungkook thinks it almost looks like carpet burn.

He hadn't noticed it last night, but it was dark, and he was drunk.

He lets you in, takes your jacket, offers you a drink. Everything that he knows he should do. Asks how you are, keeps a safe distance.

You don't know why you're here. Why you didn't say you were busy.

Except you do.

It's cause you miss him whenever you're away from him.

"I like these," you smile as you look at the artwork he has up in his room. The studio space is small, cramped, like all semi-basements are, but it's distinctly 'his'. A lot different to yours. Everything you own is still in boxes, not yet unpacked.

You've refused to come to terms with that being your life now.

"Thanks," he nods, watching you as you explore the box of a room he calls home. "They're from a guy down by the coach station. Has a little stall."

"You'll have to show me," you muse, turning to smile at him. It's saccharine, but the graze on your face is just so bitter. He hates it. Hates that he doesn't know how you got it. "Think I'd like some for my place."

"I have a feeling they'd look a little out of place in a princess tower, sugar."

Your shoulders shake as you laugh quietly, not correcting him. He doesn't need to know that you're a basement dweller, too.

"How's the editing coming along?" You steer the question away from your living situation.

"Nearly there," he grins, brimming with quiet excitement. Something about the way your camerawork looks with his editing technique layered on top just really works. He's always been confident with his final projects, and this one scares him a little bit, but in a good way. It's his best yet. Maybe he did need you after all.

"Can I see?"

"Not yet."

"Kook," you say, and - oh god - you're pouting. Jungkook suddenly begins to feel nervous.

It's that scary feeling again. A fear of the good stuff. Trepidation.

"What?" he grins, walking a little closer to you, letting his hand stroke against your back as he sits down on his bed. His fingers catch yours. It's fleeting, but enough.

You both feel it.

"Such a tease," you say, talking about the project, but there's innuendo in your words, too.

"Some girls like it," he flirts back.

"The girl at the bar last night seemed to like it."

Jungkook rolls his eyes, boyish and charming. It's annoying, you think, how impossible it is to be mad at him. It's not because you're weak, or because you can't resist his charms, but because he has a way of playing things off as if they're no big deal.

The girl at the bar? A nobody, his shrug suggests. She doesn't matter.

And it's so easy to believe, because you're the one in his apartment. You're the one he wanted here, the one that he missed. Or at least, the one that he was thinking of when he decided that he could do with some company.

It might be nothing, just something to pass the time, but it makes you feel wanted. Desired. Needed.

So you accept his hand when he reaches out towards you, pulling you closer, positioning you between his spread legs. You're standing, his eyes level with your chest, unashamed as he looks at your body.

"You look warm," he husks.

Just like he always uses your body temperature as excuse to give you his jacket, he's using it as an excuse now, too. The desired effect is obvious.

His AC switchboard is on the wall behind his bed. You'd clocked it when you were walking around, observing his possessions. Yanmar, the branding reads, the plastic outer frame beige. Once, it would have been crisp white. Age has dulled it. The monochrome monitor has a clock symbol in the corner, an indicator that Jungkook has his AC set on a timer. It suggests a sense of permanence. This is his home.

You haven't set your timer yet. You just flick it on when you get hot. It isn't your home.

He watches you as you move, curious. He's smirking, because he just cant help himself.

And because he knows that you like it whenever he does. Gets you a little bit flustered.

One of your knees hooks over his lap, and then the other follows suit.

He'd have said you were straddling him. You'd have argued that you were simply reaching over to the AC.

And you do exactly that, flicking the switch, watching as it lights up. "There. Much better."

Touche, he thinks. Smiles. Grips your thighs, as if he's scared you'll stand up again. Scared to lose you.

In all honesty, he had been hoping you'd take your shirt off, but he isn't going to complain with you in his lap, instead.

Doesn't matter if you mix the eggs with the milk first, or the flour. You still bake a cake at the end of it all.

Jungkook looks at you in such a way that you find yourself thinking maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be so horrible to let someone in. His eyes are honest, void of ulterior motives. He's doing this because he wants to. Because he wants you.

Wants that feeling back. The one where his lips are cushioned between yours, his tongue licking into your mouth.

Jungkook wants what he wants. Jungkook gets what he wants.

And, fuck, if it isn't bare minimum - but you know this, and you don't care. Bare minimum tastes pretty fucking good when you're licking it from his lips.

His hands roam, and you let them. He's rough with his movements, but the fleshy pads of his fingertips are soft, like silk against your skin. It's almost like he's afraid, filled with the knowledge that he can bruise, if he really wants to.

But he doesn't want to. He wants to ask about the graze that's sitting pretty where blush should be. Jungkook doesn't wanna hurt. He wants to heal.

"I catch you looking, you know," you tell him before he gets a chance, wanting to see how he responds. "Every now and again..." He hikes you forward in his lap. Places you dead centre over his cock. You can feel it. He can feel you. "...I catch you looking at me." He presses a kiss against the base of your neck, obsessed with the way it vibrates when you speak. "Why are you always looking at me?"

The fact that you're sat in his lap, grinding your hips against a solid bulge, should be indication enough.

Jungkook isn't going to spell it out for you. The eroticism of suggesting he's a fucking voyeur makes him want to laugh - but the way your nipples are tenting the shirt you're wearing distracts him.

His teeth graze your throat, hands creeping round to your tummy. His fingers are long, practically the length of the expanse between your hips and the underneath of your plump tits. Just a little further and he'd be holding them, cupping them, caressing. Just a little further.

"I look at you-" His hands continue their exploration as he leans back, watching the movement beneath your shirt. It somehow feels forbidden - like he can touch, but not look. After all, your question had sounded quite a lot like a telling off. "-because you like me looking at you."

He's fucking with you, trying to get a rise.

"Do I?"

The way that you whimper as he brushes against your nipples has him pulsing his hips. Your eyes close, head tilting back ever so slightly. You like this. The way he does it.

"Uh-huh," he mumbles, lips wet against your neck. His fingers knead into the flesh of your tits, nipples hard in his palm as he relieves his stresses. "Bet you think about it all day, don't you? Think about the way I look at you when no-one else does."

Yes.

"All day?" you smirk between dulcet moans. "You're lucky if I pay you any attention at all."

"I think you're lying," he declares rather boldly, hands all over you. "I think it plays on your mind. I bet you fall asleep thinking about it, don't you?"

Yes.

"Ddaeng."

"I bet you get yourself off thinking about it."

Maybe you do.

Maybe you've whispered his name in the dead of night, imagining how it would feel to have his body weight on top of yours. Maybe you get intrusive thoughts of that kiss every single time you try to draw close. Maybe Jungkook has made you cum without ever laying a single finger on you.

But even if he has, you won't tell him.

And you don't need to, because his phone buzzing on the bedside table behind you cuts the conversation dry. Jungkook glances towards it automatically, then back up to you. His frustration is evident, jaw tense.

"I gotta get this," he mumbles, encouraging you off of his lap. You don't resist, accepting the last five minutes for what they were: a momentary lapse in judgement. He sighs as he stands, adjusting his trousers, swiping his phone and putting it to his ear. He strolls just far enough away that you won't hear what or who is on the other line. "Hobi. Speak to me."

Hobi, you muse. A friend? A colleague? Another girl?

You swallow back the nauseating feeling in your throat, pretending as if the prospect of Jungkook with someone else doesn't chip away at your self-worth a little bit. It wasn't like you thought you had anything special between the pair of you.

But he was right. You did like him looking at you.

More than you had realised until the prospect of him looking at someone else arose.

From the corner of the room, you could hear Jungkook trying to interrupt the person he was talking to. The first syllable would escape, and then he'd hush again, never quite managing to get the words out in full.

"Ho-" His nostrils look quite cute when they flare, lips pursed, a pair of unique dimples becoming evident. They're different to the usual ones you notice. Full of surprises was Jeon Jungkook.

"Hobi, can I-"

He runs his hand through his hair, already dishevelled from your hands.

"Hobi will you let me fucking talk!"

Attaboy.

The pause that follows Jungkook's outburst would suggest that Hobi had said 'no' - and then a few more choice words. If Jungkook rolled his eyes back any further, they'd surely get stuck.

"Look, I'm a bit tied up right now- no! No, not that. Who? No. I don't know a Taehyung, and even if I did- Huh? Ain't got nothin' to do with Holangi. Don't know a single one of 'em."

You try to decipher the conversation, but fail.

"You're a real fuckin' cockblock, yanno?"

You blush.

"Fuck it, fine. But you owe me. I'm not saying yes next time."

He glances over to you, catching your raised brow. Next time?

A smile catches on his lips. You thought this would be a one time thing?

He's barely hit second base. If there's one thing you're yet to find out about Jungkook, it's that he loves to win. He won't be satisfied until he's got a home run.

Any other girl, and he'd have probably been running laps for fun by this point, but you... yeah, you didn't bowl him easy hitters, that was for sure.

Jungkook moves with confidence, like he always does, as he strides over to the sofa, the bulge in his pants considerably softened but still present. "Take a picture," he grins. "It'll last longer."

You roll your eyes, but it doesn't stop you from asking if that's an offer. He laughs - that soft, gentle thrum of his vocal chords that sounds so heavenly in your ears - and tells you to behave.

"I just gotta help a friend out," he says as he reaches over you to grab his rucksack. It's heavier now than it ever is at school, the jingle of crushed tin foil rustling as it briefly catches on your knee. He pretends not to notice the curiosity in your eyes. Pretty eyes, though. He quite likes them, especially when he's towering above you and can see the whites just above your lashline. Yeah, he likes them alot. "I'll only be an hour or so. You can stay here, if you like?"

The way he phrases it is so casual that it's almost like you're old friends.

That, or Jungkook's just used to having women he doesn't know very well stay at his place.

You're unaware of the mental gymnastics he's putting himself through. If he could kick himself without looking like a twat, then he definitely would.

Shrugging, you give him a polite smile. "I don't wanna overstay my welcome."

"Nah, you're fine. I can give you a lift back to yours when I'm home? I'll be an hour. Two, tops."

Finally you agree, watching as he leaves like a lovesick puppy, listening out for the familiar rattle of his exhaust pipe. There's a cough and splutter of petrol spitting onto the sidewalk as his motor roars into action, and then he's gone.

You don't hang around for much longer.

You tell yourself that you will. That it would be nice. That you and Jungkook might not be so ill-suited after all.

But as the clock ticks by on the wall, you find yourself getting antsy. You find yourself asking stupid questions. Who exactly is Hobi? What was in Jungkook's bag? Why is he always down in Daerim? Is that where he's gone now?

The thoughts grow, adapt, intrude. Before you know it, you're considering what you'd find if you opened the top drawer of his bedside cabinet.

Realistically, you know it would probably be a wank sock and a tub of vaseline - it doesn't matter though. Your mind is wondering. You need to scratch the itch.

Just a little peek. He'll never know.

Oh, how you loathe your brain.

What's the worst you could find? A revolver? His ex-girlfriends panties? Love letters? A crack pipe?

Somehow, you'd rather find a pipe than panties.

It's not that you want Jungkook to be a crack addict. It's just the more that you think about it, the more you come to realise that you really, really don't like the idea of someone else feeling how warm his torso is, or how his upper teeth always nip slightly when he starts kissing you, until the pressure of his pecks plump his lips. You've only experienced it a handful of times, and it's stupid to get carried away, but he just makes it so easy.

He didn't ask you to stay, you tell yourself. He asked you if you wanted to.

Moments of instability like this are exactly why girls like you don't spend time with boys like him. It's stupid. Futile. A game for fools.

You leave his apartment as you found it, with not even a note to say thank you. He's had a squeeze on your tits. You deem that thank you enough. If anything, he should be thanking you.

When he returns, just half an hour after your departure, he can still smell your perfume. He tosses his keys down, calls out your name, and is met with silence. It takes him a moment or so to realise that he's alone.

There's a sinking feeling in his chest that he doesn't recognise. Doesn't like. Hates, in fact.

But fine. Fuck it. He didn't want you there anyway. He'd just been doing a good deed. Being kind because - if your face was any indication - obviously someone else had been particularly unkind to you.

Jungkook thinks he knows who, now.

Daerim nights have always been sketchy, but the days are no better.

He's just the lowest rung on a long ladder of criminals who turn a profit when the sun goes down in Seoul.

Hobi had asked him to drop the stash in his rucksack off at a club, some gang-run joint that Jungkook doesn't know much about, so that he could get them back to his boss.

That had been the plan, at least.

He slings his bag down, now empty, and sinks into the sofa, not bothering to get a rag to clean himself up. No point. The dried blood will just wash off in his shower. It's not the first time this has happened. He doubts it will be the last.

Jungkook's nose is currently bleeding, dripping down his chin and hitting the ceramic tiles of his apartment with small slaps. A bruise is forming above his left eye socket, and his knuckles are red.

A punch to the face means very little to Jungkook.

He's young, but he's strong. Fast, too. It could have been a lot worse if he wasn't.

He pushes the back of his hand against his nose, sniffing, before unlocking his phone, and dialing a number he knows now by heart.

The dial tone bleeds out, just like his nose.

And so he hangs up, and calls the only person he knows he can rely on.

"Wassup, kid?"

Jungkook doesn't mean to sob, but he cant help it. He knows Yoongi has finals coming up. He doesn't need his bullshit on his plate, too.

"I got jumped Yoongs."

Fuck.

"You alright? Sound pretty bad? Where?"

"Daerim-"

"The fuck you doing there at this time of day?"

"Hobi wanted me to drop off my stash."

"Kook..." Yoongi speaks slowly, coming to a horrific realisation. A few punches had never bothered Jungkook before. Something bigger was at play. "The stash...?"

Jungkook can hear it in Yoongi's voice: fear.

"Gone."

Yoongi sighs down the line. "Hobi know yet?"

"No."

"Alright, get outta your flat," Yoongi begins, not wasting time. Now is not the time for emotions, and it's clear that Jungkook isn't capable of that just yet. "I need you to go somewhere safe, somewhere you can lie-low for a little bit alright? Let me sort it-"

"Yoong-"

"Let me sort it. I got you into this mess. Don't sweat it."

"Ple-"

"Kook. Seriously. Trust me with this."

Yoongi doesn't let him debate it any further - and it's just as well he doesn't, because as soon as he hangs up the phone, another call comes through. Jungkook wants to answer it. Really, he does.

Jungkook's just very aware of the fact that the guy who jumped him had almost been waiting for him. Right by the entrance of the apartment block which he always picked you up from.

In between blows, he'd warned Jungkook to 'stay the fuck away from the girl'.

The girl who's now returning his call.

"Hey," you say animatedly, having not expected him to call. You thought the pair of you would resume your usual awkward routine of pretending like nothing ever happened. "Sorry, I was in the shower. You good? Sorry I left, I just did-"

"I need a favour," he doesn't bother with formalities.

You want to banter with him, to flirt, but the tone of his voice warns you not to. So instead you tell him that you'll do whatever he needs.

"Can I come over?"

Fuck. Anything except that.

"Please."

YOU DON'T EXPECT to say yes. You don't expect to care more about him than you do about protecting your own dignity. You don't expect Jungkook to traipse down the stairs that lead to your slovenly open door with a glum look on his bloodsoaked face, as you stand there waiting for him.

But he does.

He makes no comment, no remark about the building. Just wraps his arms around your head, cradling you against his chest as you stand in your doorway. You can hear his heartbeat, thud, thud, thud against his ribs.

Go somewhere safe, Yoongi had told him. It was a no brainer.

"I'm sorry," he says, eventually pulling himself away from you. "I didn't know who else to ask."

You tell him it's fine, and you mean it. Keeping up pretences doesn't really matter so much anymore. Perhaps honesty was overdue from the both of you.

"The fuck happened to you?" You ask, tenderly reaching up to stroke away some of the dried blood from his lip. He winces, hisses, body tense, but he lets you continue. "Sorry."

"Could ask you the same, sugar," he speaks kindly, not wanting you to think he's being critical as he nods to the entryway behind you.

You grit your teeth together and let your hand rest on his shoulder. "King kicked the princess out of the castle."

And, suddenly, it doesn't seem embarrassing anymore. In fact, it seems perfectly apt that Jungkook knows. He doesn't pry, don't push for further clarification. Just nods. Accepts your reality.

"Castles are overrated, anyway," he presses a kiss to your head, and gently guides you through the threshold. The corridor is short, opening up to an open plan studio. The layout varies from Jungkook's, but it's similar in size. Small.

"Ignore the wallpaper," you say of the awkwardly granny-ish floral print. It's beige, so not totally offensive, but dear god, you think it looks like vomit.

"No," he grins. "It's... wow. Your landlord really knows how to make a statement, don't they?"

You perch on your bed and cringe. "A statement... a crime against interior design. Whatever you wanna call it."

Jungkook continues to pace around your room with a curious smile. He's partially deflecting from the fact he knows you're probably dying to ask about his face, and why he was so desperate to be with you, but he's also interested in the life you neglected to share with him.

Brown cardboard boxes are piled high in the corners, your possessions not yet unboxed.

This place is just temporary.

You've got three and a half million won sat on your desk. A couple more weeks, just a few, and you'll have enough for a deposit on a decent flat. Then you can get a regular job, something stable, and you won't have to worry. You could work through the summer and then figure out what to do next. Just as long as you keep on moving upwards, you'll be happy.

"So," you begin gingerly, as you head to the kitchenette beside your bed, wetting a cloth beneath your tap. "You gonna tell me what happened to your face?"

He takes your previous position, inviting himself to sit on the end of your bed, anticipating your return. There's light coming in from the thin windows by your ceiling, hitting directly onto your back. He thinks it's apt. Thinks you're the kind of girl who deserves a spotlight. Thinks that Mother Nature agrees.

Jungkook shrugs, in that lazy, boyish way he so often does, as you walk towards him. He spreads his legs, encouraging you between them, letting his hands graze your thighs. You pretend not to notice as you press the damp cloth to his cheek. Tiny crows legs appear at the edges of his eyes, face wincing from the contact. It's painful.

But being alone would be more painful. He chose to be here. To be with you.

And so he tells you what happened, with as much honesty he can muster. There are some things better left unsaid, his occupation being one of them. You listen attentively, dabbing at his wounds, a frown etched into the lines of your face.

"Stay away from the girl, huh?" you muse, avoiding his eyes as you study his face. His nose is still bleeding, but every time you tell him to tilt his head towards the ceiling, it ends up back in its original position. He can't see you as well with his head tilted back. Doesn't like it. Doesn't wanna do it. "Could be any girl."

Jungkook's dimple forms in his cheek. "No. No, it couldn't."

His fingers that have been grazing at your thighs squeeze tenderly, letting you know he means it. More than he thinks you know. More than he knows he should.

There's a chance that any words spoken between the pair of you could be misconstrued. He doesn't know what his feelings for you are, and you don't really understand yours for him - but you understand your body, and the electric current running beneath your lips, dying for a connection. A little spark.

So you do the only thing that makes sense: you kiss him.

And he kisses you back. Slowly, tenderly, deliberately. His lips melt into yours, hand pulling your legs closer. He encourages you onto his lap, as if he needs to be insufferably close to you. Once you're positioned how he wants, just like you were earlier, he grips your waist, keeping you stationed there.

Jungkook knows he should stop.

He knows he should have paid attention to the pair of fists that warned him off you as his skull hit the pavement earlier that morning, knows he shouldn't let himself get so wrapped up in such a red flag - but he just can't help himself. It's like you're laced in the narcotics he deals, and slowly but surely, you've gotten him addicted.

He's craving. Dying for a hit. Just a little taste of your tongue on his, the scent of your shampoo in his nose.

Red flags, red stop signs, pretty red lips all plump from the kisses he's smothering them in. Red blood, too. His nose is still a little damaged, and the way he's painting your cheek in crimson should repulse you.

Should repulse you.

Like fuck it does, though. You can smell the copper twinge through his plasma, and suddenly it's as if the Cullen's had the right idea all along.

When he pulls back, only for a moment, hands clutching at the side of your face to assess the look in your eyes, he notices it too. Hard not to. You blush all the fucking time, so much so that he knew the shade by heart, and the rouge on your cheek is far too vibrant, too scarlet. It's his fucking blood on you.

It should scare him, he knows. But the way you're looking at him, eyes all wide and glassy, lips swollen and waiting for more, has him unable to think straight. It has him obsessed, the way you don't care. The way he's covered you in blood and you still seem to want more.

But there's a softness to the way in which you're looking at him, mild confusion, as if you've got the same strange warmth running through your veins as he does. It's not a feeling he recognises, pulsing through his bloodstream with every beat of his heart.

Perhaps it's nothing. Jungkook tells himself that it is. Just adrenaline, probably.

You look at his lips, all crimson and blushed, and realise you much prefer the shade of his blood to the plum lipstick that had tainted them the night before. You're delicate as you wipe your thumb along his pouted bottom lip, just like you did in the bar. Except this time, the jealousy that had blossomed in your diaphragm is nowhere to be found. There's still a pinch beneath your ribs, but this time it's in your heart, and it's far more aching. This time, you feel his hurt.

Jungkook reaches down to where you left the damp cloth on your bed. It's wet and heavy in his hand, a little warm, too. He brings it to your face and dabs silently, cleaning you of the mess he's made. Fixing you. Restoring you to your former glory.

Its futile, 'cause his nose is still fucking bleeding, and you don't plan on leaving it more than a moment before you kiss him again. You simply don't care. Want him for all that he is, blood, sweat and tears.

But still, he insists on ridding you of his stain. Doesn't want to tarnish you. He's soft with the way he presses the cloth against you, mirroring how tenderly you were with him earlier. He's learning from you, adapting to you. Wants to be like you. Wants to be 'better'.

You watch as his eyes scan your face, brows twisted like they always do when he's about to say something but stops himself. The vertical groove just above his cupid's bow is red, blood tacky as it dries. If he kisses you now, he'll leave a stamp; a mark that says 'you're mine.'

It's too much. Far too much. You aren't his, and he knows this. He never wanted you to be his, in fact, for the longest time, he had wanted to be anything but yours.

But now he sits beneath you, crestfallen, heart in his throat, blocking him from speaking.

This was never part of the plan. He was never supposed to end up here. He was supposed to escape from the trenches, to get on the path of straight and narrow. Thrive. Succeed.

And it's not your fault, he knows this, but there's a little part of him that wonders what could have happened if he hadn't seen you that night in Daerim, hadn't seen the way your eyes look beneath night market lights, hadn't heard your laugh as he looked at his favourite view of the city.

You whisper his name, your palm resting flat on his chest, and his brows soften.

It doesn't matter what could have happened, anymore.

All that matters is what is happening.

The shortness of his breath, the flutter of his lashes against your cheek, the swelling between his legs. You can feel it, feel him, and he knows it. The way he's pulsing his hips upwards is testament to that.

It's a comfortable position, you sat on his lap on the end of your bed, not one that either of you wishes to break from. Not even as he begins to breathe against your lips, unable to properly control his reactions thanks to the friction beneath his briefs.

"Want you," he mumbles, pressing his lips into yours, the air in his lungs giving itself up to you. "Want you so bad."

You shake your head, brows pinched just a little. "I'm bad news for you."

And maybe that's it. Maybe he just wants you because he knows he shouldn't - but fuck it, if he can't let himself indulge in simple pleasures, then why bother getting himself beaten to a pulp over you?

"I'm bad news for myself, sugar," he husks against your lips, tickling them as he slips his tongue into your mouth. Deeper, deeper. Closer, closer. He wants it.

Wants it all.

Wants you naked.

Wants to know what it feels like to have you gasp in his ear as his hands roam beneath your panties.

Wants to know if you'd still look at him like you're stargazing even when he's railing you.

Wants it. Wants you. Just wants.

And what Jungkook wants, Jungkook gets.

He slips his hand up your shirt and pushes it upwards, before letting it crumple to the floor. You know that you should be more bashful, a little bit ashamed, but it's impossible when he's looking at you like this.

He has a visual now that he didn't have earlier. The glow of your skin beneath his bruised knuckles looks almost sinful, like he's plucking forbidden fruit from its tree. He'll pay the price for this, and he knows it, but he just can't resist.

Jungkook has always been a boob guy, always loved the way he could get girls moaning with just a little pinch, but never had he had a pair quite like yours. So full, so round, he's not sure his hands are big enough, and that doubt makes him throb. Soft and pillowy, he groans as he watches his fingers sink into them, utterly enthralled. His hips adjust, pushing upwards, pressing himself into you. He wants this. Wants it so bad.

You can feel the metal of his rings against your skin, and then you can feel his lips, his tongue, his teeth as they graze against the plush skin of your chest. He licks around your nipple, letting the air cool the wet trail, hardening you for him.

He's utterly obsessed.

His mouth pulls at the sensitive skin, suckles, sucks. His lashes are splayed on the tops of his cheeks, lips pouting around your nipple as he does so, small groans of pleasure vibrating against you. It will be a miracle if he can't already feel you seeping through your panties.

You whimper as his teeth graze your hardened nub, and his eyes flutter open. He doesn't detach himself, but instead, he keeps your gaze as he sucks. The pressure varies, and then it's hard. Really fucking hard. So hard you'll think he'll somehow give your nipple a hickey - but fuck, if you don't love the sensation.

"Christ," you gasp, before biting down into your bottom lip.

"Too hard?" He mumbles against you, peppering you in kisses and soft licks as if to apologise.

"No," you pant. "Was good. Was great. Just - fuck."

You laugh, soft and airy, and Jungkook smiles from the sound.

He likes this. Likes how you react to him.

And while he’s patient and gentle with you in a way that he isn't with other people, Jungkook has only ever known how to have sex in one way. It's ingrained into him, as if he was made to fuck like it; like he doesn't give a shit about the person he's screwing.

Jungkook doesn't do love, and you know this. He trades. Works in transactions. Settles debts. You don't really know this part, but you aren't stupid. You know he's never in Daerim for any good fucking reason.

You don't question it as his hands move south, slipping past your underwear. In fact, you're smug as he curses when he feels how wet you are, fingers slippery in your panties.

He pushes a finger into you, and closely follows it with a second. They curl ever so slightly, and it's at this point that you realise Jungkook is absolutely going to ruin you. Just a few pumps. Just to ease you up.

He's bored of waiting. Wants you now.

The pair of you move fluidly, minimal discussion needed, just occasional checks of 'you good?', or 'this okay?'. The answer is, always, without a doubt, 'yes'.

He gets you on your back, panties pulled off, legs not quite hanging off the edge of your bed, but nearly. He strips himself of his shirt first, and grins as he notices the way you whine.

"What?" he toys.

"Nothing," you flirt. "Just wish you'd hurry up. I'm a busy woman."

"Oh yeah?" The sound of his buckle coming undone is enough to make you fucking leak. "Busy doing what?"

You neglect to tell him. Not because you don't have a witty remark lined up, but because he's fucking naked now.

What a sight to behold he is. Body lean, honey skin flawless, muscles defined. You pretend like you're looking at his body, but your eyes are drawn to his cock. You'd expected length, but not the girth - and he has both in abundance. The tip of his cock is blushed and wet, with Jungkook just as aroused as you are.

Noticing your gaze, he rolls his eyes, and toys with your pussy again, lightly running his fingers up and down your slick entrance. When he pulls back, his fingers are still connected by thick clear fluid. His cock throbs.

"You're gonna get me so dirty," he hums, as he crawls onto the bed above you, before holding his fingers to your mouth. "Clean them."

Part of you wants to say no, but the other part of you can see his darkened gaze and the way his cock is twitching. You can't refuse.

His fingers are on the tip of your tongue, the tip of his cock nudging so close to your entrance that he may as well just do it. You raise your hips, encouraging, but he retracts a little just to tease.

The fingers that were in your mouth come to grip at the soft flesh of your cheeks, his thumb on the other side. "Don't you fucking dare."

There's tepid aggression to his movements, and it makes you feel vulnerable - but you like it. You like the way he's gripping your face, the ways he's looking at you with narrow eyes, just like he used to do across the lecture hall. You like being reminded of when you were nothing to one another, because it makes the satisfaction of feeling his stiff cock jump a little against your pussy as you moan so much more worth it.

He used to hate you, now he can't wait to bury his fat cock in you. Victory is yours, even if he's trying to act like he's the one holding all the cards.

You don't correct him, though. You let him think he has the upper hand. You'll play pillow princess just this once if it means you get to see him a little bit mean again.

"Dare what?" you pout, cheeks still squished between his fingers. He grips a little tighter, your chest rising as you gasp. He pulls your face towards his, sinking down into your lips, until he decided he's done with you.

He stands by the edge of your bed, and yanks your ankles towards him, pulling you close enough to the edge for him to fuck you like this.

The loss of his grip is unwelcome by you, a frown forming. He isn't looking at your face now, eyes down on his cock, which he's rubbing between your soaked pussy lips, but he can almost hear you brace yourself to whine. He smirks, one side of his mouth lifting, head knocking to the side slightly.

"Don't you dare try and set the pace," he finally husks, still not glancing up towards you. He's taking his time, making sure the head of his cock kisses every inch of your exposed mess. "Nearly got my nose fucking broken for this pussy-" he spits, hard and fast, right onto your clit, spreading it with his cock. "- so I'm gonna make sure I get what I'm owed."

He spreads your thighs back, his fingers gripping harshly just how you like it. Perhaps you should pretend to be embarrassed by the fact your cunt is leaking for him, begging for him, but the way he hisses at the sight, chest heaving, prevents it.

Jungkook's thought about this before, about how pretty and pristine you'd be, about the mess he'd hoped you'd make. Thought about it so many times. Fingers wrapped around his shaft in the middle of the night when no one can hear him chant your name as he spills over. Yeah, he's thought about it a lot.

His imagination has never done you justice. One look and he's obsessed. Wants to spend hours touching, caressing, licking you.

"Take it," you whisper. "What you're owed, Jungkook. Take it."

He looks up now, brows threaded together. You don't recognise the contemplation his face is laced in, but he doesn't give you the chance to question it, for you begin to feel that burn. The one your fingers can never give you. It's alien, and yet familiar, inherently natural but intrusive nonetheless.

"Shit," is all you can manage to say, eyes locked on his.

He wants to watch himself sink into you, watch as his fat cock forces your slick wetness out of your pussy, but he can't. Not when you're looking at him like that. Not when your chest is heaving and your eyes are watering beneath tense brows. Not when your mouth is hanging open and just begging to be fucked like your tight little pussy.

And then he starts feeling something a little strange. A little unfamiliar. A little bit like his heart has stalled to beat in time with the contractions of your chest. And though he's not in pain anymore, too busy feeling you, he's aware that it hurts. Aware that he can't fuck you like he wanted to, 'cause his chest needs to be against yours. Needs to feel the beating drum beneath your ribs.

He doesn't even realise that he's paused until you whine a meagre, "please."

"That's more like it," he hums, as he pushes into you, the base of his thick cock plugging the weeping mess that he's made. You know that as soon as he pulls out, you'll be whimpering, begging for the tip of his cock to kiss your walls once more. "See how nice things can be when you just behave yourself, huh?"

His hips push just a little deeper, and he knows that it hurts. Knows that the little gasp isn't entirely from pleasure. He's seen his cock. Doesn't take a genius to work out that it can do damage.

"You can take it," he tells you, and like a pathetic, whimpering mess, you fucking nod. He's still inside of you, still deeper than you thought possible, and then his hand is on your stomach. He grabs your hand and places it beneath his. "You feel that?" He retracts just a little, pushing back in just as deep. Beneath your hands, there's a bulge. External or internal, it doesn’t matter. It's him. He does it again. "You feel me taking what's mine?"

Whatever the fuck you moan is incoherent, but he doesn't give a shit, 'cause he's ploughing now. Bucking his hips into you like pneumatic fucking drill. Shit. He's done this before. Got it mastered to a fine art. Momenta worthy of a museum exhibition.

Your tits are pillowed on your chest, nice and round, wobbling as he takes command of your body. He slaps one of them, just to watch it ripple, before that firm grip of his is on it. "Perfect tits," he growls the compliment, not really meaning for it to come out. "Gonna put my cock between them later," he tells you. "Gonna cum all over them."

He doesn't tell you that he'll also clean them with his hungry tongue, before delivering his cum into your mouth. Figures he'll just let you find out. His brain is working at a mile a minute, trying to reign back thoughts of sharing his cum with you in such a filthy manner. God, he wants to do heinous things to you. With you. For you.

But for now, he needs to focus on his cock. It's rubbing inside of you, nuzzling. He knows he's weeping, and that his precum is getting mixed with your slick juices. Knows he won't last long if you keep whining like that. Mewling. Purring.

He stalls his hips, letting go of your tits as they jiggle back into position. Your cheeks are flushed, imprints of his fingers reddening your skin. Lips pouted and resting ajar, Jungkook thinks they've never looked more fuckable. More kissable. More whisper-sweet-nothings-against-able.

"You ever shut the fuck up?" he teases, but is quick to notice confusion flash in your eyes. He didn't mean it as an insult, but it's easy to read the hurt in your perplexed features, and the way you begin to try and push your legs together. It's futile. His cock is keeping you open.

But you feel embarrassed, as if your natural reactions to him are a turn-off. It's silly, because he's quite literally inside of you, fat and solid, using you to milk himself. Of course, he's not turned off, but you're hyper-aware of how vulnerable you're feeling right now. It had been fun to pretend like you were in control, but as soon as he slipped inside of you, all sense of power had evaporated.

He doesn't realise this though. Doesn't realise that his cock is nudging so deep into you that it's practically knocking against your heart. Knock, knock, knock. Who's there? Your mind taunts, but you daren't answer.

"Hey," he coos, one of his large palms stroking on the inside of your thighs. That uncomfortable, obscure feeling is back again. The one that tells him he needs to be closer to you. This time, he doesn't ignore it. His hips pulse, just the once. A reminder he's still very much into this. Into you.

His hands grip your waist, softly this time, as he manoeuvres himself onto the bed with you, keeping himself snug. Your head is by the pillows, Jungkook's knees on either side of your ass, his chest flat against yours as one of his hands cradles your jaw. He presses a chaste, airy kiss against your lips, and whispers, "I love the way you sound." He kisses you again, hips rocking. You're trying not to, but you whine. "Fuck, sugar. You're my favourite fucking sound."

Your legs hook over his back, and he groans now. The angle change lets him delve deeper, your walls massaging him so well. Jungkook thinks he might have died and gone to heaven. He's slipping in and out of you with minimal force, skin slapping together. He makes sure to let his moans roll off his tongue and into your mouth. You eat them up and give them back. The pair of you aren't kissing anymore, just gasping and humming into one another's mouths. He's stuttering.

There's a pause as he adjusts his grip, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your thighs. He likes it, the way you seem to melt around him in all capacities. His lips nudge against yours as his steady hips begin to rock into yours again.

You groan as he pushes down on your legs, pushing you as far apart as your bones allow. It's typical of him, seeing how far he can take things. Push them to the limit. Always gets him in trouble. There's a click, as air escapes from the socket where your leg meets your pelvis.

"You good?" He checks and you respond with a kiss. Hands tangled in his hair, you hope it conveys the fact you've never felt better. He laughs a little, soft and serene, into your mouth, the weight of his body keeping you trapped beneath him.

You're morbid in your thoughts, and consider how nice it would be for Jungkook to suffocate you like this; steal you of the air you breathe with his tiny giggles of satisfaction. So, so nice, you think.

And so you tell him. You tell him that you want his hand on your throat. He takes a second to respond - not because he doesn't want to, but more so because he can't believe you actually asked.

He doesn't normally fuck the girls he cares about like this. Then again, he never really cares about the girls he fucks.

"God," you moan as he pushes one of your legs over his shoulder. His body is clammy against yours, skin hot and damp, chest lean but built. He's working hard; not just for his release. For yours too. Rams into you, stuffing your cunt with his cock, dipping his head to lather your clasped throat in wet kisses.

"That's it, sugar," he growls as his teeth graze your neck. "Need to hear how good you feel. Need to hear what my cock does to you. You owe me."

You want to laugh. You're about to laugh. But then his head dips down to your chest, and he latches onto one of your pebbled nipples, sucking so hard that all you can do is tremble. He knows you like this. Knows it makes your pussy all creamy and slippery for him - and like clockwork, he's proven right. The sounds are lewd. He loves it.

"On your back," you husk, punctuating your instruction with a whimper as he suckles even harder. He shakes his head, eyes closed, mouth vibrating and full of your tit. Not a chance, he tries to say, but it just sounds likes he's forgotten how to speak. Too busy. Too close to spilling himself into you. Doesn't wanna get distracted.

So focused, he doesn't realise you're pushing him over until you're on top. He frowns as he detaches from your nipple with a pop, but his hands are running all over your body regardless. Obviously doesn't care that much. Course he doesn't. That ache in his chest has settled.

Until he starts thinking about it, and oh god, it's back and it's fucking unbearable.

"C'mere," he pulls you flush against him, as your hips begin to work against him. His hands cradle your face so he can kiss you as deeply as he likes, tongue slipping into your mouth, as his cock slips up and down your pussy. This, he thinks, is it. This is what fucking should feel like.

"Shit," he whispers. "Shit."

The friction of his surprisingly neat hair that rests at the base of his cock is nice. Real fuckin' nice. You're not even fucking him anymore, just grinding against it. Using it, using him, to get yourself off.

You think you're being slick, like he won't notice - but he does. Of course, he does. He's obsessed with your body.

"God, yeah, baby," his back arches, pressing his chest against yours, eyes closed. "Use me like that. Use me," he bites into your shoulder gently. "Fucking use me."

He means it. Doesn't give a shit about himself anymore. Just wants to feel you tremble as he holds you close. Wants to press kisses against your lips as your moans become undignified. He needs to be the reason you cum; needs to be responsible for your oxytocin rush.

You sit up a little, and Jungkook holds back a pout from the separation - but how can he complain when you're sat like that, his cock buried inside of you, hair a mess and with eyes like his favourite constellation? He's hypnotised as your boobs begin to bounce, pussy working up his shaft like the true Daerim woman of the night you are. He's forgotten about all of that, now. Can't think about anything except for how to not fucking cum.

He can't and he won't. Not until you do. But you're bouncing, and it's wet, and he can hear it, and it feels so fuckin' good. His toes are curling, torso tensing, eyes half-shut, pretty little pout hanging open. He's fucking whining. "Yeah like that," he encourages. "Gonna milk me so well, baby. Gonna... ah. Fuck. Gonna-"

Jungkook can't fucking speak. He wants to. Wants to tell you how fucking beautiful you look, how he wants this endlessly, how he never wants to let you go. Needs to tell you how right this feels, how good you make him feel, how he doesn't understand his feelings but fuck, just that he is feeling. Feeling so much.

You're not sure at which point he started calling you baby, but you're actually convinced that the name alone could tip you over the edge.

The pace of your hips is slowly, savouring. He doesn't quite get it. You were so close. Why stop?

The stillness of your movements makes way for something new. He feels a throb around his fat cock, which is begging for release. Notices the way your chest is shaking like you've got hiccups, tiny whines of pleasure making themselves known. Your pussy was always warm, but it's hot now, contracting around him.

And then he gets it.

"Oh, shit," he mewls, his hips slowly pumping upwards. "Yeah, that's it, baby. Let yourself cum. All over my dick," he encourages, hedonistic and self-serving. "That's it. Cream for me."

His slow movements as he fucks up into you amplify the sensation, the tip of his cock nudging languidly against your tight walls. Your entire body shudders, the feeling rippling from your chest right down to your toes. You rasp out moans, the sensation all too powerful, a creamy mess pooling at the base of his shaft. There's a jerk as your muscles spasm, your orgasm well and truly delivered. He pulls you down and into his chest, his strong arms wrapped around your back.

Your body rests on his, spent and sensitive, and he can tell you can't hold out for much longer. He pushes back the hair that's sticking to your clammy face, and presses kisses into your temple.

"So big," you hum, voice hazy, eyes shut.

"Just a little more, baby," he promises. " You're doing so well. Just a little..."

You've considered how Jungkook would orgasm on more than one occasion - and you're pleasantly surprised to find that your imagination was wrong. There's no grand declaration, nor large grunt. He's not aggressive, either, like you'd half-hoped he would be.

Instead, Jungkook kisses you as his hips begin to stall. His brows are creased, moans muffled against your lips. His torso shudders, abdomen as tight as his balls. "Baby," he drowsily mewls, and then it's happening. His cock pumps into you, unloading thick creamy spurts with every stroke of your pussy. The first one is so desperate that you're almost positive you can feel it paint your insides. You moan along with him, utterly obsessed with this, him, whatever the fuck just happened.

He doesn't withdraw immediately. Just lays there and kisses your skin, absolutely spent.

You don't move a muscle. You don't want it to be over. Don't wanna lose this. Lose him.

When you tilt your head to look at him, he's smiling. Eyes closed, cheeks appled. Serene. In a state of fucked-out bliss.

You tell him that he's pretty, and he lets out an airy laugh, covering his face with one of his hands. You move his hand and watch him fondly, enthralled with the grin that he's struggling to fight.

He turns to look at you, and the smile he's been boasting amplifies. "God, you're gorgeous."

It's not a new observation; just one he's never voiced before. One that he was able to resist saying. But you're naked now, chest pillowed against his, eyes glowing and nose blushed.

You hum, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. "I'm glad you chose to come here."

Just like that, there's a knot in Jungkook's stomach that seems to anchor that feeling he keeps having.

"Yeah," he nods. "Me too."

IT'S THREE IN the afternoon by the time you wake from your post-fuck snooze. Jungkook's never had one of those before. Hated being sticky after sex with anyone else. Always had to shower - but with you, he wants to stick to you like glue.

"Should have filmed that," he hums, the tips of his fingers stroking up your arms. You aren't sure if he's joking or not. "Would have given us a unique take on the project. Probably wouldn't have gotten us very high grades, mind you, but art is subjective."

"Some would argue that the critique of art is objective," you muse back, still blissfully cum-drunk from the events prior to your nap. Jungkook's nose has stopped bleeding, and the pair of you have almost forgotten the reason he showed up in the first place. "Documentary maker by night, porn star by day," you flirt. "Although it's cute that you think you fuck like a porn star."

"I felt you shaking," he says, knowing there's no possible way that you didn't enjoy it. His nose feels a little cold after all the trauma of the morning, so he buries it into your hair. "Can't fake that."

"That's what I'm saying," you simper, pressing a kiss against his bare torso, just below the meeting of his collarbones. And then another, simply for good measure. "Porn stars never actually look like they're making the woman feel any good." You trail down his chest, tongue licking gently at the darker skin around his nipple. "You... yeah you don't fuck like a porn star." And then you suck a little. He hisses, in the best possible way.

"Don't," he says. "Not ready to go again."

You laugh.

Jungkook thinks he's reached Nirvana. Almost certain, in fact. Never had a girl do that to him before. He loves to give it, but hasn't ever thought to receive it. Wonders what other things you'll do to him that he's never had done before. He can feel his cock fucking twitching again, achy and sore, definitely not recovered yet from how hard he went earlier - but god, he wants it. Wants to bury himself inside you again. Belong to you.

His hands paw at you, one gripping on your chest, the other on your ass, pulling you closer. Your leg hooks over him, and he can feel how wet you still are on the side of his thigh. His balls fucking tighten. He can feel it happening, blood rushing to his crotch.

Yet despite it all, he just kisses you. Softly. Tenderly. Merely his lips languid between yours. Withdraws slowly. Keeps his eyes closed. Bliss.

"The fuck have you done to me, sugar?" he whispers, dark eyes opening to look into yours. His speech is husky, like he trying to steal the answers of a pop-quiz from you. You can't help him. You don't have a clue what the answer is. You're just as stuck as he is. "Got me feeling all fuzzy 'n' shit."

"Just a sugar rush," you smile. "It'll pass."

You're both acutely aware that it won't, but that will be a problem for another day.

"Tell you what," Jungkook muses, though his thoughts are shallow. He's not digging deep. Just talking for the sake of it. "I might not fuck like a porn star, but you don't fuck like a hooker."

He pulls your arm up so that he can study the crease of your elbow. You let him move your body like you're a barbie doll. You'll be his toy, you think, if he wants. No bother.

His fingers press at the thin skin that covers your veins, inspecting.

"Not a scratch," he assesses. "So you're not an addict either."

You laugh, slightly amused. "No? Maybe I just don't inject."

Jungkook gives you a stern look. Hopes you're joking. Tells you that you better fucking be joking. The sweetness of your laughter tells him that you are.

"So?" you press. "I'm not a prostitute and I'm not an addict. It's your lucky day. What of it?"

Jungkook tilts his head down so that his nose is nestled into the crown of your head again. Comforting, he thinks. Smells like laundry. You must have washed your sheets recently.

His next statement takes you off guard.

"Only ever see three kinds of women down in Daerim."

And you know.

You know he knows.

You can feel it in the way he protectively presses his lips into your skull, as if he's Prince Charming trying to rid his Sleeping Beauty of the nightmare she's been living. Wake up.

But Prince Charming rides a white horse, not a petrol-spitting, air-cooled, steel-framed shadow that rips through the city at night.

There are no nightmares, either. You're already wide awake. There's no saving you.

He sighs against your head. Pauses. Resists, and then confronts.

"I know what you do in the dark, sugar."

You don't say anything for a moment, and then you're pulling away from him, reaching for your shirt. He doesn't like this. Misses your warmth, but doesn't stop you. Instead, he follows, sitting on the edge of your bed, the corner of your comforter lazily protecting his modesty. His muscles are relaxed now, a little crease in his stomach from the way that he's slouching, hands in his lap. Those Bambi eyes of his are peaking through his hair, cheeks red and grazed from the morning encounter he'd had in Daerim.

He watches as you pull your shirt over your head, hair just as messy as his, and a graze on your cheek to match. He was pretty certain before that it had been carpet burn, but now that he's seen it up close, softly rubbed his thumb against it during pretty kisses, he's sure of it.

You avert his gaze. Feel shameful. Hate that he knows. You never cared before. It was just a fun little secret, the fact that he didn't know you were no angel.

But you want him to think that you're one, now.

For a moment, you were sure that he had.

Instead, now, it feels like you're falling from grace.

He reaches for your hand, but you pull it back. "Please don't."

And so he doesn't. Just sits for a little while instead. "Do you want me to get dressed?"

You really don't.

But your tongue is lodged in your mouth and it won't budge. You turn away, internally furious with yourself. It's been a while since you've gotten like this; so dreadfully panicked that you can't talk. It's a once in a blue moon kind of thing, the early onset of a panic attack, but you're hoping it won't reach the stage of no return. Praying.

"Babe?"

He sounds worried now, and it's making it worse. Feels like you've just reached the top of Bukhan Mountain without taking a second to catch your breath.

Has your chest always been this tight? Or has someone just been wrapping rubber bands around your torso without you noticing?

It isn't possible, and you know this, but it feels like it and - oh God - you can hear him shuffling, the buckle of his belt clanging. He's leaving, he's leaving, he's leaving, your ribs cackle as they close down on your lungs.

There's a light hum behind you, like a wasp is coming to send you into a state of anaphylactic shock and then it stops. His jeans are tossed to the floor once more.

"Yoongi?" Jungkook speaks quietly behind you into the receiver of his phone. "Wassu- Yeah, yeah, I'm safe. I'm good."

I'm safe.

I'm good.

"Where are- Yoongi stop. Stop it. I'm being deadly fucking serious-"

You don't realise it, but your chest begins to mellow as you listen in to his conversation.

"It's my mess!" He shouts now. "I'll fucking fix it. I don't give a fuck what Hobi says. Where you at? The Zoo? I'll be there- Yes, I will. Don't do anything fucking stupid."

And then he hangs up, chucking his phone into your bed with more aggression than he'd ever wanted to show in your presence. You don't see it, back still turned, but you hear it, the way his phone rebounds against the springs of your mattress.

"Shit," he hisses, and when you turn to face him, you find that his head is in his hands, elbows on his knees.

Crouching by him, your chest expands. You don't give a shit about yourself anymore. Your palms rest just behind his elbows, eyes anchored below his, looking up.

"He's got his fucking final in an hour," is all Jungkook says. "He's gonna miss his fucking final."

He lifts his head, tender lips pouted, eyes bloodshot from the pressure he's been placing on his palms. Looks right at you. Decides he'll never trust another pair of eyes more.

"I know what you do in the dark, sugar," he relays. "But I do worse. So much fucking worse. And I've just gone and fucked it all up."

And while he blames it all on himself, you know it's your fault.

He didn't stay away from the girl. He tempted fate, tugged on the red string, and accidentally snapped it.

Forlorn, he slumps, tongue wetting his bottom lip as he bites down on it. It's only to stop it from trembling. Clouds lurk in his eyes, trying to block his vulnerabilities from you, but it doesn't take a genius to work out that he's scared.

"Take it," you say, lips in a flat line, eyes stern. You nod towards the pile of cash on your desk, and his eyes follow. "Take it. Pay your debts. I can earn it again. I don't have a deadline. You do."

He shakes his head.

"I'm not taking the money you've earned."

"Yes, you are."

"I'm not," he protests and you've got it in your right mind to slap his pretty face silly. "Gonna be totally honest," he adds, "Don't really want your sugar baby money. Kinda resent it a little. Resent the fucker who gave it to you."

Jungkook hates him.

Doesn't know him.

Loathes him.

"So then give him the middle finger and take it," you plead. "He got you fucked up into this mess, he got you jumped, he got your stash stolen. Take his money and get yourself and Yoongi out of it. You don't have time to be fucking arguing with me."

He wants to fight back. You stop him.

"We can argue later," you promise.

And that ever-present effervescent feeling is back in his chest.

"Sugar," he speaks quietly. "Don't do this."

"Kook," you respond, voice much firmer than his. "You gotta do this. Yoongi shouldn't be fixing your mistakes and you know it. We can work it out on an I.O.U. basis. It's okay."

"I.O.U. suggests I'm gonna keep seeing you for a while," Jungkook mumbles. He isn't feeling as confident in himself as he had done earlier.

You stand, offering your hand to him so that you can pull him up with you. Neither of you acknowledge the fact that he's stark bollock naked. It's really not the time. Nothing you haven't seen before, after all.

"Well, yeah," you shrug with a straight face, but there's a glint in your eye. "I'd hope so. Pretty sure you said you were fuck my tits later? Gotta hold up your end of the bargain, sugar."

And despite it all, he laughs, toying with your hands before slipping his finger between yours. "Don't call me that."

"Why not?" You squeeze his hands. "You're technically my sugar baby now."

"That's not how it works."

God, he knows he shouldn't be fucking about, wasting time flirting, but he just can't help himself.

"No?" You question, equally distracted.

"No," he says. "If you're paying me, and I'm fucking you, then that makes me a hooker."

He's not wrong.

"Oh, that's kinda hot," you smile, pulling gently on his hands to encourage him to lean down. He does as he's told, and kisses you like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"You're so fucked up," he whispers against you, knowing that it's exactly why he enjoys you so much.

You don't let the moment linger, though, tossing him his clothes and going to grab the money while he dresses himself. You stack it together, all nice and neat, using the desk to straighten the edges. The wedge is thick in your hands. Yellow 50's are laughing at you. Stupid girl thought we'd fix her problems, they chatter silently to one another.

"Three and half million won," you hold it out to Jungkook. He hesitates, so you force his grip around it and let go. It's his problem, now. Not yours. You smile so warmly that Jungkook can't help but let that feeling in his chest simmer. Your hair is still messy, mascara still smudged. He wants to kiss your cheeks.

Jungkook hasn't disclosed what exactly was in his bag.

But in the same way he knows there are only three types of women in Daerim, you know there are equally only three types of men.

There's only one demographic that he belongs to. Yoongi, too.

You don't say it explicitly, not like he does.

"Holangi are nasty fuckers," you acknowledge. "I know they raise the stakes just for the fun of it. Whatever got stolen, the street value doesn't matter. Take it all. You'll need it."

Take what I owe you.

When he kisses you goodbye, it's just like the first time; all breathy and needy, lips parted and pouting. Again and again, he presses down into your lips. His brows furrow, hands on your cheeks, chest pressed against yours.

The crimson paint that had stained you from his very first kiss returns. You're painted in red for the second time that morning, but this time only you can see it. Only you can feel it.

That's her. That's the girl who let Jeon Jungkook kiss her like he actually meant it.

But it's funny now, because you know that he does mean it.

When he finally leaves, his nose is blushed, his cupids bow too. Eyes glassy. Smile forlorn.

Disappointingly, as you close the door of your apartment when he's no longer in your line of sight, you remember exactly how Jungkook had kissed you for the first time:

Like it was going to be the last.

And it consumes you, because the kiss you just shared felt exactly the same.

Your chest is uncomfortable again, but it's not rubber bands this time.

It's that stupid red string that Jungkook had tugged too tightly on.

The one that he'd snapped right in half.

WATTPAD // AO3 // KO-FI // CARRD

#jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook oneshot

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2hightocare · 5 months

Text

WHAT YOU NEED ✷

Synopsis: Jungkook and you try getting into the Christmas spirit, but you end up getting fucked up against the kitchen counter.

Pairing: Jungkook x f!reader

Genre: established relationship au!

Warnings: smut, size kink, light spanking, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex (don’t b dumb nd wear condom.) fluff, cussing, Jungkook has a dirty mouth. a kms joke, hair pulling and choking

Word count: 2.3k

A/n: let’s not sayyyy.. when i say i was giggling and kicking my feet i am not fucking lying! (Jk had me on a chokehold istg😒) they flagged my shit… um

Is it barely November 1st? Yes.

Are you putting the Christmas tree up already? Fuck yeah.

Jungkook would clown you for your love for Christmas, and honestly, you didn't care because you loved everything about it. The decorations, the new flavored coffee menu’s, the gifts underneath the tree, and the cold. You loved wearing beanies, scarves, and thick hoodies. Something about this holiday takes you back to your childhood—the way you would gather with your siblings and parents in the kitchen, making sugar cookies to put under the tree for Santa.

Were you heartbroken when your parents told you they were Santa? Yes. You felt betrayed after they lied to you for thirteen years of your life. When you shared your story with Jungkook, he burst out laughing, sharing that he found out at age nine after catching his parents in the act, making you want to cry for him.

Now here you both were at 10:40 pm assembling the Christmas tree. Jungkook's mom gifted you both, which is much bigger than yours from last year.

“Oh my fuck—this is too big, baby." Jungkook admires the height of the tree with his hands rested on both sides of his hips. Your excitement rises at how many possible ways you both could decorate it.

"Well, I can tell you hate it,” your boyfriend jokes as his hands wrap around your bare waist from behind. “Your hands are cold,” you flinch. Your hands wrap around his, trying to pass him your warmth.

“And if we decorate it with tiny dicks?” You crack your neck upward to see his reaction. “I mean, go for it, baby."

You swat his chest as he burst into a fit of laughter. “You swear you’re so funny, huh?” You look at him with a serious face, your mouth twitching from trying to hold in the big smile that wants to come out.

Jungkook just shakes his head. “Wanna decorate today with last year's decorations, or we can wait till tomorrow and buy new ones, and instead we can bake Christmas cookies?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

Anyone in their right mind would be thinking we’re crazy for already baking Christmas cookies when December is in a whole month. But you both didn’t care.

…

“We should’ve gotten pre-made cookie dough.” Your eyes look around at the marble counter in front of you, filled with all the ingredients your mother-in-law told you to use. “On god.” Jungkook stands beside you. “You know what? Let me call my mom. We need a tutorial, I'm afraid.” You giggle as he pulls out his phone, opening up FaceTime.

The phone rings three times before the camera fills up with your mother-in-law smiling sweetly. "Hi, my babies!” She says first, Your face lights up. “Hi,” you wave a hand to the camera. “Hi mom!”

“You guys look adorable,” she motions to your guys matching pink hello kitty pajamas. “Y/n bought them; I had no choice,” he lied, knowing damn well he wanted to match first. “Sureee.” You rolled your eyes at him.

The call continued as Jungkook's mom gave you guys simple instructions like beating the sugar and butter with a whisk, which Jungkook took over because your hand started to hurt, and gradually adding flour to the mixture, which ended with both of you guys covered in white flour because Jungkook turned the mixer too fast. After wishing your goodbyes, you both slightly shake off the flour, and you put the dough in the refrigerator. Apparently, you have to let it be firm.

“So now we have two hours to wait. I say we fuck.” Jungkook slaps your ass, making you squeal. “You’re horny??” Your hands make their way to his hair, slightly pulling. "Hm, maybe,” he whispers into your mouth, and he gives you a slow, wet kiss. “I’m still sore from earlier." I mumble in between kisses. “Was I too rough?” His rough hands massage your ass. You shrug your shoulders in his embrace.

“Christmas movie, then?” He asks, “I’m so down."

….

“Shit takes like ass,” you say, finishing up the cookie.

Your boyfriend looks around for the long-gone cookie. “I don't know; let’s ask the audience.” He looks around for the invisible camera. “Bitch!” You swat his arm, and he burst out laughing, holding on to his stomach.

“You literally ate that shit up.” His head is thrown back, and the most beautiful laugh roars out of him. “I will kill myself genuinely.” You chuckle while trying another cookie without the frosting you guys tried making from a tutorial on Google.

“The frosting is ass, cause this is a bomb,” you stuff your mouth with the remaining of the cookie humming at the taste. “Am I weird cause I fuck with the frosting?" He dips his pinky nto the bowl where the white frosting is before sucking it off. “Never mind actual shit." His nose scrunches in disgust, and his tongue sticks out, making you giggle.

"No, seriously, why is it so bad?” Jungkook takes a sip of the milk he had served not so long ago. “I have no clue, baby, but the sugar cookie itself slaps." You take your half eaten cookie up to your boyfriend's mouth and say, "Open, ahh." He immediately follows commands and opens before you shove his mouth with the golden cookie. “Mhm,” Jungkook's face scrunches as he bobs his head up and down, savoring the heart-shaped cookie.

“Probably the best cookie I had in a while, not gonna lie,” he states, taking a bite of the gingerman's head.

“Do we have cinnamon?” You make your way to the drawer where you keep all the spices. “ Found it,” you make your way back to the cookie before sprinkling some on your and Jungkook's cookies before taking a huge bite. “Oh my fuck," you moan.

"Oh, my fuck indeed.” Jungkook shoves the remaining cookie into his mouth, moaning at how it melted in his mouth. "Think, I just saw stars.” You say this while he side-eyes you. “Haha no.” He says that before picking you up on the counter, he settles in between your legs.

“Horny still?” You ask again, "Yes, very, I’ll be a gentle promise.” He leaves open-mouth kisses on your neck before slowly sucking.

“No marks.” You moan, your fingers slightly tugging on his hair and making him groan. “Scarf season, princess.” He looks up with a smirk on his face, then continues his actions, sucking and licking your soft spot. You bite your lip, trying to be quiet. Jungkook slowly grinds into your clothed pussy causing you to slip out a throaty moan. “Fuck—“ you throw your head back, your legs caging him closer to where you most need him. “I need you to lose the clothes and fuck me.” Jungkook chuckles at your demanding tone.

“Yeah? Want my cock already?” His hands rub on your thighs. You nod your head, looking down at the imprint of his now-hard cock. You reach for it, but Jungkook slaps your hand away, making you pout. “Patience princess,” Jungkook's hands tug on the band of your pajamas, pulling them down and taking your underwear along with it.

You squeal as your bare ass feels the cold counter top, and your boyfriend laughs before throwing the clothes somewhere on the ground.

Your pussy clenches over nothing, and you go to press your thighs together to relieve some of the tension, only for Jungkook to hold them wide open. He pulls his hard cock out of his pants, giving himself two pumps before slapping it on your wet center. Your gaze fixated on his dick on your pussy, your lips between your teeth moaning slightly when your boyfriend gives it another slap with his dick.

“So wet for me, baby,” he says, giving it another slap. "C'mere," Jungkook's picks you off the counter from your arms, “bend over. ” He orders.

You quickly follow his command, your juices dripping down your legs from how wet you were already. Jungkook spreads open your legs some more before making his way in between them, giving your ass a slap. “Fuck—“ you clench your thighs together as he soothes the red mark he just left. “Fuck, when are you going to let me fuck this ass.” Your boyfriend asks you, giving you another spank, making you squeak.

“Never,” you moan, making him chuckle under his breath. “Worth the try.” He jokes before sinking down into you, both moaning at the feeling. You felt so full. Jungkook is so big, stretching your pussy deliciously. “So big shit," you moan, your cheek pressed against the counter as he fills you up to the hilt. “You can take it, baby,” Jungkook says between gritted teeth. He felt you clenching around him, having him on the verge of coming right there in an instant.

“Always so good for me, baby. Want me to fuck you so good, huh?” He whispers into your ear, and you clench around him, earning you another spank, ripping a loud moan out of you. “Fuck me," you stutter over the pleasure your lower belly is feeling. “That’s what I like to hear, baby,” Jungkook says before pulling his cock out, just leaving the tip in before slamming into you. Your mouth hangs open as he repeats the movements over and over again. “Fuck just like that,” you grip to the edge of the counter, your eyes close immediately, as his rough hands compare to your smooth skin, hold tightly to the sides of your hips, pounding into you from behind.

“This cunt is mine, right?” Jungkook groans, sliding his cock in and out of your walls. You could only reply with a loud moan. But that’s not enough for Jungkook; your boyfriend wraps his hand around your hair, pulling you upward and arching your back in the process. “Use your words, princess.” He orders in your ear, his movements never halting.

"Fuck—your pussy! Only yours,” you spit out whatever words you could make a sentence out of. “Fucking you dumb, huh?” He lets go of your hair and moves his hand around your neck, adorning it like a necklace and applying some pressure. "Mhmm,” you moan, trying to open your eyes but shutting close after Jungkook slams into you again.

The room fills with the wet clapping sounds, groans, and moans that keep spilling out of your guys mouths. Your fingers find your sensitive clit, applying pressure and drawing small circles. "Fuck—I'm gonna come!” Your legs shake beneath Jungkook, and his arm wraps around your waist in case your legs give out on you.

“Yeah baby? Gonna come for me?” He slaps your hand away from your clit replacing it with his. Your back arches against him, and his cock continues hitting your g-spot repeatedly, sending you over the edge.

“Oh fuc—“ Your words are cut short when the pleasure in your belly finally snaps, and Jungkook's fingers furiously move on your pussy, making you scream into your hand. Wetness pools on your feet, dripping down your legs. “Fuck so hot when you squirt,” Jungkook continues fucking you through your orgasm, the overstimulation has you shaking underneath him. “Too much fu-fuck,” you head drops to the counter. You clench, sending Jungkook over the edge.

“Coming,” your boyfriend's head drops to your shoulder, his movements becoming sloppy, springs of cum shooting inside you, moaning at the feeling.

His movements come to a halt, his mind foggy, his cock throbbing when he pulls out, making you whine, feeling empty.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” Jungkook mutters under his breath as he sees his cum dripping out of your hole. Without a second thought, he shoves it back in with his index finger. “Aw shit,” you moan at the sensitivity.

He chuckles, kissing your shoulder blade. “You were so good for me, baby.” He leaves open-mouthed kisses all over your back, breathing heavily. You are trying to catch your breath, and your legs feel like jelly, not being able to move from your current position.

“Mhm,” you hum softly, your eyes closing. "Baby, don’t fall asleep on me,” Jungkook smiles at you, picking you up in bridal style, making you to squeal.

"How the fuck can you be so cute after just getting railed?” Your boyfriend moves your hair out of your face as you try to snuggle into his chest. “You play too much,” you mumble.

Jungkook lays you down on the bed before disappearing into your guys bathroom; a couple minutes later, coming out changed and with a warm rag in hand, “here, baby open,” he coos motioning to your legs. You do as he says. He slowly cleans and wipes your center, making you moan from oversensitivity. “Almost done,” he says before giving a last swipe and throwing the rag somewhere in the room.

“Do you want a pill, baby?” He asks against your cheek, to which you nod. He stands up, walking to your side of the closet and getting you something comfy to wear. “Here. Be right back.” Jungkook leaves the clothes next to you and leaves the room.

As you change into your clothes, Jungkook waltz’s in with an ibuprofen and a glass of water on his other hand. “Here,” he says, waiting for you to poke your head out of his hoodie before handing you the small pill.

You swallow the pill without any complaints before dropping down on the bed. “So tired.” Your eyes close before you even hit the pillow, making him chuckle. “Worn you out, huh?” He teases before dropping beside you, pulling the covers over both of you. You immediately cuddle up to his side, feeding off the warmth he radiates. Your leg is over his torso, and your hand is on his chest.

“I love you, princess.” He whispers into your hair, leaving a small kiss on your forehead. “I love you; now let’s go, mimi’s." You kiss his clothed chest, hoping he can still feel the kiss.

#bts fanfic #bts jungkook #fluff #jjk #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jjk smut #smut #bts smut #established relationship #jjk x reader #bangtan #drabble

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chryblossomjjk · 2 years

Text

practice | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader

⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | college au, fwb, smut

⇢ WC: 8.1k

⇢ WARNINGS: mentions of bad sexual experiences, nickname you guys might find cringey (sorry babes), praise, a little degradation, a little manhandling, oral sex (f recieving), fingering, squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, very brief mentions of anal play, brief mentions of sex toys and masturbation, spitting, titty sucking, protected sex (hes a hoe but not a dummy), jk is kinda a himbo (scratch that last side note), jk running through twice members lmao sorry girlies, pining, maybe unrequited love, maybe not, ill let u decide, oc is in denial in the beginning, oc has that lemon water coochie!!, daddy kink + daddy kink slander (not seriously!), slight corruption kink

⇢ SUMMARY: you usually spend friday nights on your own. tonight, however, your friend and campus fuckboy, jungkook, decides to pay you a visit.

⇢ NOTES: hi friends!! i’m back with my second fic!! i posted this last night but miss ting had a bad case of the typos rip. so I had it beta'd by @kookstempo pls go give her love >:((( ! i found the smut a little easier to write this time. still not that good lol but not as mentally taxing! oc is totally definitely not a little bit of a projection of me haha thisficwassexuallycathartictowrite i hope you guys like it! i would love to know your thoughts! also would be v cool if you checked out my masterlist. love u bye!!

⇢ SERIES MASTERLIST

It’s 10 p.m. on a Friday.

The night of the week that lures college students out of their suffocating dorm rooms with the promise of parties and alcohol. After days of classes, hours of studying, and minutes of sleep, most people your age spend their weekends unwinding, hopping from frat house to frat house.

One of the many perks of living on campus is the social life. Being surrounded by young adults is exciting. It also means that everyone is horny. Ravenously so. Seriously. Anything with a hole or phallic-shaped appendage is a prime candidate for getting fucked.

Anything and everyone, except you.

It wasn’t that you couldn’t get fucked, per se. Although abundant, your options were limited. Given the environment, it was difficult to find a guy you actually felt comfortable with. He didn’t have to be in love with you, but he did have to respect you if he wanted to get anywhere near your sugar walls. With that being said, it was slim pickings.

You coped well, for the most part. But it was hard to shake the lonely feelings that bubbled in your chest from time to time. And the feral ones. Nothing a quick rub from your petite, manicured fingers couldn’t satisfy, you suppose…

Besides, all men do is disappoint you. The only two sexual partners you’ve had thus far were subpar, to say the least. Greedy. Disgusting. Selfish. Not an ounce of concern for your pleasure. As embarrassing as it was to admit, you’ve never orgasmed from sex. Not even close. That left a sour, lemony taste in your mouth. Ever since then, your pussy was on hiatus, locked away in the highest room of the tallest tower, until a worthy knight came to save it from this tortuous dry spell.

You sigh, peeling the honey-drenched sheet mask off your face and tossing it into the trash with vigor. You eye yourself in the mirror with a scowl. Fluffy, freshly plucked brows knit together as you examine your appearance. You’re wearing a cropped white tank top, nipples poking through the little animated cherubs printed on the front. The baby pink Sailor Moon pajama shorts on your thighs left little to the imagination. White kitty ears headband keeping those annoying baby hairs out of your face.

You’re cute, right?

Atleast you tried to look cute.

Your roommate, Mina, was visiting family for the weekend, leaving you the dorm to yourself. Without your extraverted lifeline, you decided it was the perfect opportunity to stay in and pamper yourself.

You’ve already waxed your body, head to toe, with that expensive sugaring wax Mina begged you not to get. ‘It was worth it,’ you thought to yourself when you had spread your peach-scented lotion on the smooth canvas of your legs after the shower.

You even gave yourself a facial. Extractions and all. Much cooler and more productive than partying and getting laid.

You take your headband off, ruffling your thick hair until it falls into place. You reach for your candy-flavored Laneige lip mask, spreading it across your plump pout with your middle finger. Another overpriced purchase.

You exit the bathroom, shuffling towards your twin-sized bed and then falling face first into the plush, ivory duvet. So comfy. It wasn’t even midnight and you were ready to hit the hay.

You had planned to study a bit before knocking out, but the warm shower left you sleepy. Plus, the past week has been hell. Two papers and an impromptu quiz from your least favorite professor. You were a good student. A great one, even. But you were an overachiever to the core, and still found yourself stressing over assignments you knew you aced.

You let out a small yawn, squinting at the brightness around you. Along the wall beside your bed were vine garlands, embellished with little fairy lights and pink roses. They were such a pain in the ass to put up. It took you and Mina nearly three hours, and a mental breakdown on your behalf, to stick them against the drywall in the right position. High maintenance, but cute, nonetheless. Kinda like you.

The lights dim as your mind turns hazy, eventually turning into a silent black as sleep clouds your vision. Sweet, blissful sleep. You were teetering into the REM phase when-

Knock. Knock.

The booming noise startles you awake, rattling the brittle wood of your cheaply built door. The wall hangings flutter in its wake.

Maybe you were being dramatic. The knocks were actually soft and melodic. Almost cheerful as they followed the rhythm of a made-up song. But you were pissed. Even the most heavenly sound would ring demonic and evil in your ears at the moment.

You shove yourself off of your bed with an exaggerated groan, stomping towards the door and yanking it open, fully prepared to yell at whoever was behind it.

Jeon Jungkook.

His expression is blank, doe-eyes widening as he takes in your expression. Your body language radiates hostility and violence. The silver barbell glimmers as his thick, dark brows twitch in confusion. He blinks before opening his mouth. “Hey,” he utters hastily.

Under different circumstances, you would be ecstatic.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Jungkook?”

“Woah, someone’s cranky,” he laughs hesitantly. “I was bored. Figured you were, too. Mina is gone, right?”

“Are you drunk or something?”

“What- no,” his plump lips form a pout, the matching silver ring on the bottom corner shining as well.

You sneer at him, pupils darting over his outfit. Oversized gray hoodie, white t-shirt peeking from the unzipped portion at the top. Gray sweatpants. Your gaze lingers on the tight pull of the material in the front. He doesn’t seem drunk, and he isn’t dressed in his usual party attire.

“I just want to hang out with you. Why are you acting so sus?”

You roll your eyes, doing everything in your power to exaggerate your irritation. “Why are you here?”

“Oh, come on, Bambi. Don’t be like that.”

Bambi.

That stupid nickname.

You and Jungkook had met at a party after you were peer pressured into a game of beer pong. The super boisterous, super attractive stranger ended up being your partner by default.

"What do you mean you’ve never played before?" He questioned you, voice laced with devastation when he realized you were about to cost him his undefeated streak.

Despite Jungkook’s best efforts, Mina and her boyfriend, Taehyung, mopped the floor with you.

"You know what, I like you. You’re a little bitchy but-,” he slurred at the end of the night, helping you gather the discarded solo cups, "Also innocent. Kinda like a baby deer. What the fuck was that movie?"

You answered him curtly with a scowl.

"Bambi! Right… I can’t wait to ruin you." He was so wasted that night he ended up vomiting off of the second-floor balcony and onto the class president’s Honda Civic. Not drunk enough to forget the awfully humiliating, yet adorable nickname he had bestowed you.

“Give me one good reason why I should let you in.”

“I have pancakes,” he beams with pride, bunny teeth peeking out. He raises both arms, showing you the crinkled takeout bags in his hands. “Chocolate chip-”

“That’s disgusting,” you scoff.

“And blueberry,” he retorts with a squint. “Please? I won’t be annoying, I promise.”

You let out a contemplative noise. It wasn’t what you had planned for the night, but you guess company wouldn’t hurt. Especially his company.

If only you could mute your evil brain.

“I thought you had plans with whatsherface,” you question, stepping aside to let Jungkook enter your room.

He kicks his slides off at the door, something you’ve drilled into his head with violent words and empty threats. You remember him texting the groupchat a screenshot of his calendar, tonight being marked ‘PUSSY APPOINTMENT’ with the woozy face emoji next to it. The same one that was inked on his middle finger; it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. Tonight was one of many slots in his month with the exact same title. That picture was deleted from your phone as soon as you received it.

“Sana,” he corrects, face unimpressed like he expected you to keep a mental catalog of all his flavors of the week.

You did. Every time a new name was added to the roster, your heart sank. You would never admit it though.

“I did, but I guess she has a boyfriend now or some shit?” He plops down onto the baby pink area rug beside your bed, immediately digging through the takeout bags.

“How dare she?” You gasp sarcastically, taking the styrofoam container that he held up for you and sitting criss-cross on your bed.

“I know, right? That’s what I’m saying,” he laughs, opening a syrup packet and pouring it over his pancakes.

You cringe, foreseeing a sticky, impossible to clean mess all over your floor. “Please don’t fuck up my rug, Jungkook.”

“I won’t,” he mumbles halfheartedly, bringing the pad of his thumb to his mouth. The tip of his tongue pokes out to kitten lick at the sugary liquid before wrapping his plump, pink lips around it.

He sucks gently and then pulls off with a tiny smooch.

Wow.

Are you really that far gone? There was no denying that Jungkook was attractive. But were you really that touch starved that you were drooling over every minuscule, minute movement he made?

“Maybe she was sick of you stringing her along,” you comment, trying to cover up the fact that you were totally just gawking at him.

“Nah,” he murmurs through chubby cheeks, mouth full of pancake. “She knew it was just sex.”

“Did she though? What about Dahyun?”

“Well aware.”

“Jihyo?”

“Yep.”

“Nayeon?”

“Are you slut-shaming me?” He points his plastic fork at you, bringing the opposite hand to his chest in feigned offense. “Because I feel very attacked right now.”

You playfully nudge his shoulder with your thigh-high sock-clad foot, deciding to drop the subject. To be fair, he wasn’t wrong. Jungkook had a reputation on campus. Every girl who involved themselves with him knew what the outcome would be. He was very blunt about his desires and disinterests. Sex being the prior. Commitment being the latter.

But you suppose remaining detached was easier said than done. Something about him was… magnetic. He was bold, yet soft. Obnoxious, but endearing. A sweet talker for sure. And easily the freest person you’ve ever known. Add sex into the equation, and it must be nearly impossible not to fall in love with him…

Hm. That’s enough thinking for the night.

You need background noise to keep intrusive thoughts at bay. He peeps an ‘I don’t care’ when you ask him what he wants to watch. You take it upon yourself. Sailor Moon it is.

The pancakes keep him preoccupied for a while. You glance down at him every now and then. His eyes sparkle as he watches the cartoon on your phone screen. There’s a little speck of chocolate on the corner of his mouth. His tongue makes an encore appearance, licking it away before fidgeting with his lip. How sinful.

He starts getting squirmy about halfway through the episode. Antsy hands pull at the strings on the border of the carpet below him. Every now and then he draws a shape and erases it. One of the shapes is a penis, something you’d see on the back of a middle school textbook.

He scoots with a sigh, pressing his spine against the edge of your bed, and then bending his head back. Fluffy dark strands tickle your legs as he peers up at you. “Can you play with my hair?”

“Why would I do that?” You huff, hot and bothered by the sudden contact.

“It helps me stay still. Please?”

“Oh, um- okay,” you oblige, gulping like you’ve dry swallowed a huge pill. You cautiously card your digits through his hair. It’s so soft and healthy.

He purrs and closes his eyes.

He's silent once again, enjoying your touch, even pushing into it a bit. Very cat-like.

That lasts for about three minutes. His inability to not speak every single thought that enters the void of his mind takes over.

‘I just realized they’re all named after planets.’

‘Wait, the moon isn’t a planet, is it?’

‘Why are they dressed so sexy to fight space monsters?’

“Jungkook, shut up!”

“But I’m bored,” he whines. “Is this really how you spend your Friday nights?”

“Excuse me, I’d like to see you take STEM classes for a week and then tell me how you feel,” you contend, leaning over to grab your phone off the nightstand. You don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on your nipples. It makes your palms clammy. “Sometimes, it’s nice to just chill.”

“You don’t masturbate?” He asks calmly as if he had just inquired about the weather.

You give him an exasperated look.

“What? That’s how I destress,” he continues, shrugging nonchalantly. “Don’t you have a vibrator?”

“I- no! Why are you asking all these questions?” You shriek, absolutely mortified.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” He lifts his head off of your lap, craning his neck so you can see his appalled expression, your answer leaving him equally as mortified. “Damn, that’s wild,” he tuts in disapproval.

“I would rather not have to smuggle a sex toy into my dorm room, Jungkook,” you retort.

“You can borrow mine,” he smirks, turning his body to face you, obviously relishing in the reactions he’s pulling out of you. “It’s a Hitachi. It’s really strong too, like, most girls don’t even last five minutes.”

“Why do you have- you know what, nevermind actually!” You clench your eyes shut, poking your fingers into your ears and shaking your head dramatically. Your reaction is mostly out of embarrassment and partly because the thought of him pleasing women who aren’t you hurts for whatever reason. “I’m done with this discussion!”

“Seriously?” He wheezes, thoroughly enjoying your tantrum. He wraps his long, nimble fingers around your wrists, pulling your hands away. Your skin burns under the touch. “I want to get to know you more.”

“Yeah, but you don’t need to know-,” you rip out of his grasp, flailing your hands around in circular motions, “-those things.”

“I’m just trying to make conversation,” he frowns.

“About?”

“Anything.”

“Okay, um...” you look around the room nervously, searching for the right thing to say. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Black. What’s your favorite position?”

“Jungkook!”

“I think missionary is my favorite. Very underrated,” he says, tapping his chin like it’s an answer only an intellectual would’ve given. “The kind where her legs are pushed alllll the way back,” he emphasizes the ‘all’ by balling his hands into fists and lifting them up by his head, showing you exactly where he likes them. “You hit the g-spot perfectly that way.”

You level him with a scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. Unamusement written all over.

“Why are you so mad?” He laughs. “What? You’re embarrassed to talk about sex?”

A pause.

“You’re not a virgin, are you?”

“Jungkook, no…” you sigh, rubbing your temples in frustration. “I’m just not like you, okay? I don’t like sex as much as you and everybody else on this fucking campus does!”

He hesitates for a moment as he processes your sudden outburst. The first time you’ve ever seen him rendered speechless. You can picture the cogs turning in that thick skull of his.

He inhales sharply, eyebrows raising up to his hairline as if something clicked. His tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek, cute dimple peeping out from the pull. His head drops as he huffs out a laugh.

“What’s so funny, Jeon?”

“Ah, I see now.”

“See what?” You groan, bothered by his vagueness.

“Here's what I think, Bambi,” he mumbles in a low tone, sitting up from his spot on the floor so his gaze is aligned with yours. His palms are on either of your crossed legs, fingers curling into your white blanket. Forcing you to make eye contact with him- his pupils are black, nothing like the soft brown you’re accustomed to. “You’re so uptight because you haven’t had sex in a while- good sex, at least.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You say nothing.

“The guys you fuck don’t know how to treat you, am I right? They can’t make you cum?”

Crickets.

Your lack of response tells him the answer.

When you do speak, your words come out shaky. “Well, what makes you any different?”

He shuffles closer, knocking his forehead right against yours, invading your space. He’s so close that you feel claustrophobic. Your heart pounds in your chest.

“I always make the girl cum.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hums through curled lips as he nods, silver hoops swaying at the motion, nose brushing against yours. “More than once.”

His dilated pupils scan over your body, pausing at your chest for a moment, and then continuing their descent. A hand slides up your bare thigh, the warm touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. He grabs the hem of your shorts between his index and middle fingers, tugging gently. “These are cute.” He licks his lips, making them pink and glossy, like he’s ready to eat you. “I’d like them better somewhere else though.”

“Jungkook…”

And then he's kissing you.

It’s soft, like he’s afraid to scare you away by putting too much pressure into it. Little does he know you’ve been thinking about this for a while.

All your protesting and fighting up until this point was futile. Your hands unconsciously make their way to his cheeks. You swear you feel him smirking. It’s like he can read your mind, knowing exactly how bad you’ve wanted this.

He prods his tongue against your bottom lip, urging you to let him in. You do. He wraps an arm around your waist and guides you down, hovering over you.

“You taste like candy,” he whispers against your lips, hot and needy. Take that, Mina. A sneaky hand cups you through your shorts, right where he knows your clit is. The thin material does nothing to conceal how wet you are. “Do you taste like candy here too? Can I try?”

You’re anxious, but you can’t stop. Not when he’s so enticing. Not when the rumors of his sexual prowess are swimming around in your mind. Jungkook could ask anything of you and you’d gladly obey. You give him a small nod.

“Don’t be nervous,” he teases through an airy laugh, breath fanning across your face. It smells like chocolate and syrup. He turns his head and presses a gentle kiss on your fingertips. You swoon.

Hooking his thumbs into the sides of your shorts, he pulls them below your butt. He dips his head down, biting into the side of your thigh. A predator sinking its teeth into its prey. Not hard enough to hurt. It’s just enough to rip a whine from you. “Fuck,” he grumbles, pulling your shorts completely off. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”

He’s been wanting this, too?

“Let’s leave these on though,” he sighs, speaking in reference to your socks. It was something you knew he found sexy, overhearing a graphic conversation with Taehyung about kinks and other filthy things. That may or may not have been the motivation behind your purchase.

You cringe. Being naked in front of someone for the first time in a long time was nerve-wracking.

“No panties?” Jungkook asks, looking at you quizzically. “Dressed so skimpy, Bambi. All for me?”

“I didn’t know you were gonna show up...”

“Oh shit, you’re right,” he chuckles, caressing your legs with his large thumbs. You appreciate the gesture.

Cool air brushes against your exposed core when he parts your thighs. His gaze locks onto your dripping center. You whine and cross your arms over your face. Maybe if you squeeze hard enough you’ll revert back into yourself and escape this dreadfully vulnerable feeling.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” he starts, words dying out because his attention is elsewhere. Jungkook has seen a lot of pussy throughout his life, but yours has got to be the, “prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. So fucking wet.” He settles back onto his knees, hooking his limbs around your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed.

Jungkook watches in awe as he spreads your lips open with his thumb and index fingers, stealing a peek at your shiny center. He takes a long, languid lick from your pussy to your clit. He moans when the wet muscle dips between your folds, eyes scrunching as his feature contorts into a scowl. You recognize that face. That angry face he makes when he tastes something he finds incredibly yummy. It’s the same one he made when he ate his pancakes.

Have you really studied him so much that you’ve picked up on his subtle habits? Nevertheless, the fact that he actually seemed to be enjoying going down on you was jarring. You’ve never experienced this before. It felt so fucking good. You were already close and he has barely touched you. You let out a whimper.

“Mm, you’re so responsive,” he notes, absolutely loving the little sounds you’re peeping. Much different than the blaring moans and screams he is used to. Despite the ego boost they give him, your shy whimpers are a welcomed change. Each one makes his cock twitch, forcing him to bring a hand down, palming himself through his sweats. “When’s the last time someone ate you out?”

“Never…”

“I don’t see why not,” he coos sympathetically, shaking his head in disapproval. He gives you another lick, tongue pressed flat against you. “You taste like lemonade, so sweet.”

That had you absolutely drenched.

You move up onto your elbows, watching as he throws your legs over his broad shoulders. He licks the pad of his thumb, this time actually sinful. He presses it right to your bud, rubbing it before pulling the sensitive skin taut, lifting the hood and exposing your clit.

He tuts his tongue, whispering something so quietly you barely catch it, only making out a breathy iteration of the word ‘tiny’. Heavy eyes flicker up to yours as he places two soft pecks on it, then blows delicately.

“Jungkook, please…”

“Sorry,” he chuckles, “I won’t tease-,” sentiment interrupted with an open-mouthed kiss, “I know how bad you must want it.”

He circles the tip of his tongue on your clit before suctioning his lips around it. You gnaw onto your lower lip, face twisting up in pleasure.

This is easily a far better form of self care than what you had planned.

It’s obvious that this is something Jungkook does a lot. He is a photography major, and has never struck you as someone who is incredibly bright, but the way he touched is strategic. He has spent the better part of the past decade perfecting his craft, studying the way women move their bodies when he applies a certain amount of pressure. The beautiful noises they make when he stimulates them in certain spots. He has the exact equation to make you fall apart.

There is a pattern to it. He latches onto your swollen nub, cheeks hollowing with a few harsh sucks, before licking over it, letting his tongue dip into your entrance. You can’t help the subtle thrusts into his mouth with every glide of his tongue. The consistency had your stomach doing somersaults.

He sinks further down, lapping at your folds, never straying too far from your clit, burying himself so deep into your pussy that the tip of his nose nudges against it. A big palm slides up your torso, reaching under your tank top to grab at your chest, thumb flicking over your hardened nipple.

“Jung- fuck!” You croak, high-pitched and desperate. “I’m close.”

You expect him to pull away. He, instead, acknowledges you with an ‘mhm’, nuzzling even further into your cunt.

You can’t help the instinctual, or more so learned, shame bubbling in your stomach. Your hips jerk away. Legs close tight around his head, attempting to save him from the brunt of your orgasm. He simply pries them back open, nails digging into your inner thigh. You grasp onto his hair, tugging it back as you curse under your breath.

He doesn’t like that.

He pops off of your clit with a sharp, annoyed growl. “Can you stop?” The stern edge in his voice makes you flinch, releasing your grip immediately. “You don’t have to control every situation. Just relax.”

“I’m sorry,” you squeak.

His gaze softens immediately. He didn’t want you to apologize and he definitely didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. “You can touch me, Bambi,” he grabs your hands and places them back on his head, encouraging them to tangle in his tresses once again. “Keep me here, though. Wanna make you cum in my mouth.”

It’s strange, being pampered during sex. Taken care of.

You peer down at him. His mouth and cheeks are dewy, covered in your arousal. Even the tip of his nose is wet. He’s not uncomfortable in the slightest.

You push him down, giving him the green light to continue. The descent is quick. Starting in your stomach before it shoots through the rest of your body. You throw your head back, teeth digging into your lip as you desperately try to stifle the lewd moans threatening to escape.

Jungkook guides you through it, slowing down towards the tail end of your orgasm. He pulls away with a satisfied hum, standing up from his spot on the floor. “Taste?” He asks, squishing your cheeks with his big hand. His tongue licks right against yours when you stick it out, lips closing into a sloppy kiss. “Good, right?”

You don’t really taste anything, but you nod anyway. Maybe a slight hint of citrus. Or maybe you were delirious after the best orgasm of your life. The only partnered orgasm of your life.

His eyes are scrunched, but you can still see the stars in his dark pupils as he smiles down at you. You mirror him with the opposite expression, irises wide and blown out. He giggles, nuzzling into the side of your face and then nipping at your cheek. “You’re like a space girl,” your heart melts at the Sailor Moon reference. “So clueless. I wanna do everything to you. Teach you everything.”

“Like what?”

“Have you ever squirted before?”

You freeze. “No… I don’t think everyone can.”

“That’s not true. Everyone can squirt with a good partner and the right mindset,” he proclaims enthusiastically, shooting you a thumbs up. The tent in his pants on full display.

“Right mindset?” You giggle, raising a brow at him.

“Yeah, it’s pretty intense.” He grabs a half-empty water bottle, your water bottle, off the nightstand, taking a big sip. “I can get you there,” he states, a droplet of water dripping down his chin. “You have to listen to me, though. You can continue your ‘girlboss’ bullshit after I’m done with you.”

You roll your eyes. If any other man said that to you, you would be livid. You would literally rain hellfire upon them. But it’s Jungkook. You know he’s joking, and the soft spot you have for him prevents you from ripping him a new one.

He smiles when you agree, pecking your cheek before unzipping his hoodie and shrugging it off his shoulders. You watch his muscles work. Toned, firm biceps exposed for your viewing pleasures. He recently recolored the tattoos on his right arm.

You remember him venting about his parents’ disapproval of them, and his major, when he walked you to your dorm after a party a few weeks ago. It was the only time you’ve ever seen the fun-loving, jovial man feel melancholic. You coin that night the night you developed... whatever it was that you have for him now.

“Alright,” he gestures to the cotton sweater, now spread out on your bed. “Lay here.”

“Why?”

“I mean…” he looks at you like you’re stupid. “You don’t want to get this wet, right?” He counters, pinching your blanket.

Cockiness just oozes out of him. It makes wetness ooze out of you.

You comply, laying down on the soft material. It’s warm and smells like the delicate linen cologne he normally wears. You bask in the scent.

“I usually use lube for this, but…” he clicks his tongue, knowing you don’t have any. “We can make it work.” Leaning down, he lets a string of spit land on your clit. It tickles as it trickles down your folds. He’s quick to collect it with his fingertips, smearing the moisture all over.

“Take your top off, please. I wanna see those pretty tits.”

It’s barely a top. The jagged, raw hem only conceals half of your perked nipples. How ironic is it that you’re wearing an angel print tank while being absolutely defiled. You sit up, taking it off easily and tossing it on the floor before laying back down.

“It’s not going to hurt, is it?” You wonder, reflecting on his earlier statements.

“Why, you nervous?” He teases with a lopsided grin. It drops when he sees the apprehensive look on your face. “It shouldn’t hurt, but if it does you’ll tell me, right?”

“Right,” you moan, another drop of saliva hitting your pussy.

“Hold your legs up, keep them open,” he orders, sucking back the extra spit with a hiss.

Pink nails curl under your thighs, bringing them up to your chest just as Jungkook instructed. He pops his middle and ring fingers into his mouth, bringing them down to tease at your entrance before slipping in, palm facing up.

There’s an adjustment period, his fingers being much bigger than your own. You’re so aroused that the tenderness subsides quickly. “Fuck,” you yelp when he starts gently petting at your g-spot.

He doesn’t jam his fingers into you carelessly, an unpleasant sensation you’ve been subjected to in the past. His digits never leave you. Instead, they move in a sensual curl that makes you purr. Every touch is focused, intricately placed on that delicious spot.

“Pussy so wet,” his voice comes out as strained as his pants. He sounds so turned on and filled with lust. It makes you clamp around his fingers. He lets out the tiniest moan, using his free hand to grab yours, sucking three fingers into his mouth. “Touch your clit for me.”

You bring your hand down, rubbing side to side. “Uh-uh, circles.”

Immediately, you follow his command. You look so delicious he can’t help himself, bending at the waist to latch onto one of your nipples.

“Please, Jungkook, more…”

“Yeah?” He mumbles against your chest, sending vibrations through the sensitive skin. You nod frantically. “I usually don’t give in this easily, but I think you deserve it. Been such a good girl. You can have more, Bambi.” You know it’s just sex talk. A stream of consciousness fueled by his horniness. All the blood leaving his head to fill his cock, making him more dumb than usual, but you can’t help but feel special.

“It’s going to build up fast, okay?”

You mumble a small ‘mhm’. How bad can it really be?

Jungkook starts moving his hand rapidly, fingers thrashing up and down. There's so much force behind his movements that your hips lift and dip.

You’re overwhelmed. Constant, vigorous stimulation right to your g-spot. A strange swelling feeling starts pooling in your lower stomach. High-pitched whimpery moans and wet squelching noises fill the room.

“J- daddy, fuck!” It is so intense you can’t form a coherent sentence. There’s faint laughter in the background. “No, no, no…” you plead, wrapping your hand around his wrist, nails digging into his skin. It’s too good. So good that it made you scared.

His movements halt. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, too much… fuck!” You shout when he continues at the same intensity, your body thrashing wildly. You feel out of control.

“Shh,” he whispers softly. “You can take it. Just let it happen.”

You inhale sharply, doing your best to calm down. It’s difficult when he keeps touching you like that. Your fingers curl into his sweater, bracing yourself. As soon as you stop fighting that full feeling, as soon as you loosen the tense muscles, it’s going to hit you.

You relax and a wave of the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt ripples over you.

There’s an intense, world-shattering, euphoric release.

And then nothing.

Your head is empty. Your ears ring. Your vision is distorted by white splotches.

Complete solace.

Your senses come back after a few minutes of heavy breathing. It’s fuzzy, but you can see the ceiling fan swirling above you.

There’s a metallic taste on your tongue.

You can feel droplets trickling down your inner thighs, a damp puddle under your butt, and a warm set of lips on your temple.

“Welcome back to planet Earth,” Jungkook jokes, pushing away the wispy flyaways that stick to your forehead. You blink absently as you slowly make out his features. You swear there’s a glowing aura around him. “You good?”

“So good,” you confirm halfheartedly. “You’re so good.”

“You came so much,” he hums in satisfaction, placing a few pecks against your jaw. Jungkook was actually surprised at how much wetness he coaxed out of you. You just kept on cumming. The prettiest waterfall he’s ever seen. Damp fingers brush up and down your bicep, a comforting gesture. “You called me daddy.”

“Shut up,” you groan, covering your face. “Don’t talk about it.”

“I won’t, it was fucking gross,” he laughs, smiling down at you so genuinely that it reaches his eyes. This was just a hookup, you assume, but he’s just so pretty. You can’t stop yourself from pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He reciprocates. It feels so intimate. Too intimate for a pair of friends. You’re so tired but you want more. Everything.

“Take this off, please,” you ball the white fabric of his shirt into your tiny fists, mimicking his words from earlier. “Let me see those pretty tits.”

He quirks a brow at you, standing up straight and pulling his shirt off by the collar. It’s discarded onto the floor, with all the other useless, bothersome items.

His tits are pretty. Chest flushed red from exertion, nipples spiked and tiny. His body is fit, but not overly muscular. Lean and toned. Just what you like.

You snake your legs around his cinched waist, constricting his pelvis flush against yours.

“Is it my turn now?” He says, loving your sudden burst of confidence. His jaw goes slack when you start grinding on his clothed cock. There’s a slick spot where your bodies meet, heather gray turning dark as the fabric dampens. Jungkook lets you play with him for a bit, rutting against you until he physically cannot stand it anymore. “I’ve never wanted to fuck someone so bad.”

“Then do it,” you whimper, growing impatient. He sighs, hand coming down to fiddle with the sweater underneath you. You crane your neck, watching curiously as he pulls a square packet out of the pocket.

There’s a sharp pain in your chest when you see it. “Did you plan on us hooking up?”

“Maybe,” he contends playfully. All the amusement in his face disappears when he flicks his bangs back and sees yours. Hurt and disappointed. “I always keep condoms on me, you know that,” he explains, voice soft and wary.

It makes sense. He was sexually active. Very much so.

That scares you. You could possibly be just another girl he’s sexually active with. A last ditch effort to get laid because the first option bailed. The puzzle pieces start coming together.

You look him in the eyes. His pupils are brown again. They look pleading, concerned for your wellbeing. Afraid they’ve tarnished something so delicate. You can’t tell if it’s just your delusions, post-orgasm bliss. All you know is you never want him to stop looking at you the way he is right now.

“Can I put it on?” You ask, pointing at the condom in his hand, desperate to break the tension.

“I- sure,” he retorts, exhaling deeply like he was holding his breath, relieved. He gives it to you, using his other hand to pull his pants by the waistband, stopping mid-thigh. Too rushed and eager to take them off completely.

He didn’t have underwear on either.

You squint, trying to read the white font on the packet. Large.

You glance up, eyes bulging out of your skull when they land on his cock. It’s big. So aroused that it points straight up, resting on his abdomen. The tip is bright pink, standing out against the background of his smooth milky pelvis. It’s shiny with precum, a little bead sitting right at the slight. Your gaze trails up the veiny underside, following the acute upward curve. You gulp.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” you say, jittery hands tearing open the foil packet. You cautiously wrap your hand around the shaft. It’s so firm. Rock solid and touch starved. It jumps in your palm as you slip the sticky rubber down, making sure to stroke him along the way. “Big, thas’ all.”

He nods, the corner of his lips pulling up in a smirk. He can tell your words are equally as worried as they are complimentative, though. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises, holding on to your ankle to lift your leg, kissing it through your white sock. Gaze locked on you, making sure you’re watching and that you know he can be soft with you.

He bends both of your knees up to your chest, tapping your outer thigh, indicating he wants you to hold them again. Tattooed knuckles wrap around the base of his cock, laying it flat against your pelvis. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath when he sees the tip reaches just below your belly button, knowing exactly what to envision when he’s inside you. His cock so deep it’s in your stomach.

He smacks the shaft between your folds. Filthy, wet slapping noises overpower your coos and purrs. The tip tickles your entrance, rubbing up and down your folds, before he brings it to your abused clit again, flicking it up and down like a light switch. Watching your face intently to gauge your reaction, looking for any prick of discomfort.

“Put it in,” you frown, growing impatient.

“So needy,” Jungkook teases, gripping his cock right under the crown and pushing in. Only the tip. He uses his fingers as a buffer, trying not to give too much too fast. Pulling back agonizingly slow and then diving back in, giving you a little bit more length this time. It was only an inch or so, but the stretch burned. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill.

He repeats this process, working you open little by little until he’s buried to the hilt. He lets out a pained grunt, overwhelmed by the way your warm wet walls just suffocate him. “Fuck, tightest pussy ever.”

You clench your eyes shut, trying to ease the feeling of getting impaled. Jungkook is so big. The veins that run along his shaft, the thickness, the curve. He leans down and pecks your nose sweetly. His thumb, rubbing tight circles against your clit, provides a decent distraction. You focus on the pleasure instead of the pain.

“Feel okay, Bambi?” He coos, feeling you relax under him. “Can I move?”

With furrowed brows, he pulls out a few inches before thrusting back in slowly. Heavy eyes glued on the way your lips petal around him when he gives you more. The way they resist when takes his cock away. “Good girl,” he praises, voice raspy as he tries his best to maintain a slow, shallow pace. “You take it so well.”

Any pang of discomfort is gone. He prepped you so well that there’s no friction, just seamless glides in and out of your leaking cunt. The upturned tip of his cock tickles that sweet spot in you. You moan, digging your almond-shaped nails into your thighs, arching your back for more.

Jungkook sees your body language. He knows what to do in this situation. One of the most useful sex tips he’s ever learned. He leans forward, pressing his chest against yours, swollen lips latching onto your neck. They suck a sore spot that his tongue quickly soothes over. “Hold on to me,” he commands, wet pout smushed to your skin.

You let go of your thighs, leaving little crescent indents on the surface, and throw your arms around his shoulders. Hooking your knees into the bend of his elbows, Jungkook hoists you up effortlessly, supporting your weight with his large palms on your ass. The change in position spreads you even further, slides him in even deeper.

“Mmm, f-,” you moan, words cut short when he starts bouncing you up and down on his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Mmm, I knew it,” he chuckles sadistically, right into your ear. “I knew you were just waiting to be ruined. So fucking high-strung and- fuck!” He can feel your arousal dripping down to his balls. “Controlling.”

Arguing is pointless. You swear he's in your head, the tip of his cock scrambling your brain around so that you can’t even think straight. All you can think about is him.

You cling to him, resting your cheek against his shoulder as he lifts you in the air. Letting him have his way with you. You’re never felt more alive.

‘Orgasms are the pinnacle of the human experience,’ you recall Jungkook telling you one day at the library. At the time, you rolled your eyes. Now, you know exactly what he meant.

“You just needed some dick, huh? My dick?” You nod, drooling against his skin. “Doesn’t it feel good to let go?” All you can get out is a little moan.

A glint flickers in the corner of your eye. Mina’s mirror. It’s leaning against the wall right in front of you. You can see the expanse of his back. The taut skin on his shoulder blades. Biceps bulging as he moves you. His pants slid down to his knees, so you can see his cute butt dimpling when he thrusts up. Muscles working to make you cum.

“Okay,” he huffs, more to himself than you. Your pussy was so good that it derailed his original plan. Jungkook tosses you up a little, getting a more secure hold as he wraps an arm around your waist. The motion makes his cock slip out, the loss of contact makes you whine.

His free hand tosses his soiled hoodie out of the way. You cringe, making a mental note to mop tomorrow morning.

He places one of your fancy, cooling-gel pillows on the edge of the bed, laying you down on top of it. Your hips are elevated, tilted upwards. Giving him a clear view of your glowy core. He catches a glimpse of the only place he hasn’t destroyed.

“What about this?” He coos, pressing the pad of his thumb right against your clenching hole.

You squeak, shaking your head. Baby steps.

“Alright,” he chuckles, hand retreating promptly. “Maybe next time.”

He wants to do this again. Your heart flutters.

You watch as he guides himself back in, stuffing you to the brim in one swift motion. Much less cautious than earlier. His cock hits your g-spot perfectly. The pillow and his curve doing wonders. Your eyes roll back as your head hits the bed. “Like that, right?” He laughs, snapping into you.

“Yeah, Jungkook,” you moan out, gripping your ankles and bringing them up by your head, just how he likes. “Don’t stop.”

He could’ve busted right then and there.

“Fuck, keep saying my name,” he groans, eyes glancing up to your perky tits, jiggling freely with every snap of his hips. His pupils sneak down further, watching his cock plow into your tight, wet cunt, leaving it dewy.

You call his name like a metronome, ‘Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook’. Voice airy, following the rhythm of his hips. It makes him move harder and faster, feeling that familiar pooling at the base of his shaft.

Just like everything about him, his strokes are fluid. His hips aren’t locked and stiff. They move in a dip and roll that makes your toes curl. His pelvis mushes against your clit when he thrusts all the way in, balls smacking against the curve of your ass. It feels delicious. Your third orgasm of the night is approaching fast.

“You cumming, Bambi?” He hums, already recognizing the way your thick brows pull together when you're close. The way your hips rut a little, naturally guiding you to your orgasm.

“Mhm, make me cum Jungkook,” you mewl.

He hovers over you, placing his hands on top of yours, bending your legs back farther. Taking long, violent plunges into you. So close to a piledriver. He’s basically fucking you into the mattress, bed frame cracking against the wall beside it. One of your vine garlands falls down, but you’re so close you can’t even bring yourself to care.

Your climaxes blend together. You first, clenching and unclenching around his length. Moans coming out sporadic and your shoulders off the bed. Legs trembling in his hands.

His orgasm is stunning.

“Ah- fuck. I’m cumming,” he croaks through snarled teeth, head dropping to watch where you connect. Something he does often, you notice. He doesn’t stop, even after he spills into the condom, fucking you until he’s completely drained. You whimper, sensitive from the overstimulation.

“Damn,” Jungkook huffs out a laugh, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You fist the wavy strands at the back of his head, a little damp.

“Thank you,” you speak shyly.

“I know you’re new to this,” he lifts up and looks at you quizzically, amusement tickling his features, “But that’s kinda a weird thing to say after someone fucks you.”

You laugh with him, eyes darting over his face. He has a small scar on his cheek, something you’ve never noticed before.

“No, I just mean-” you cringe when he pulls out of you, feeling empty. “You’re the only guy who’s ever… I don’t know. You’re just different.”

He smiles with twinkling eyes, tying a knot at the end of the condom and tossing it into the pink trash can beside your nightstand. “You’re different, too,” he mirrors, plopping down onto the bed next to you. “Special.”

Special.

You sigh into his lips when he gives you a soft peck, thumb brushing against the newfound mark of his face. “I’m sorry that I made you do all the work.”

“Nah, don’t worry. Making you feel good makes me feel good.” His words are sweet but there’s a naughty glint in his eyes. “Besides, you can think of this as a practice round.”

“Practice round?”

He hums in conformation, tapping your ass lightly, making it ripple against his hand. “Alright, go take a leak before you get a UTI.” He laughs when you push his shoulder. The same old blunt, shameless Jungkook.

He stops you before you disappear into the bathroom. “I hope this won’t make things awkward between us. Like, we’re still friends, right?”

Friends.

It takes all of your strength to give him a nod. You ponder over his words as you clean up in the bathroom. Why did you feel so... conflicted? You’re so happy, but you’re also kinda sad. It’s like your mood solely depends on Jungkook. His words have the power to pull you in whatever direction he pleases. You stare at yourself in the mirror.

All these emotions must mean you have a crush on him.

You sigh, flicking off the light and then heading back into your room.

Jungkook is hunkered down in your sea of pillows, soft snores leaving his parted lips. Chest rising and falling steadily. Hair messy, fanned around him.

He looks so beautiful and peaceful.

You tilt your head at the sight. He always told you that he never spends the night after a hookup.

The blanket is only covering his pelvis, strong legs poking out from underneath. His sweats are still on his ankles. You giggle, attempting to slide them off without waking him.

“Bambi,” he mutters sleepily, opening his big arms. “C’mere.”

You feel your cheeks heat up. You shuffle into bed, throwing the covers over both of your bare bodies.

He wraps his arms around you, pecking your forehead before drifting back into slumber.

Fuck.

What have you gotten yourself into?

9K notes · View notes

kooktrash · 1 year

Text

illicit desires | jeon jungkook

⇢ As the cold seasons comes to a close and sweet warmth looms in the air, it’s now the season for sugar, spice, and girls more naughty than nice. for jungkook, it does mean a new year of flirty smiles and flaunted temptations… and usually it’s always innocent until it’s suddenly not.

join our 4 writers bring back hot girl season in 2023 — because at the end of the day, the only man a woman can really depend on is her daddy. ⇠

DILF!JUNGKOOK MASTERLIST [ collab ]

Guys My Age | Jeon Jungkook [ @kooktrash ]

➣ pairings: dilf jk x female college student!y/n

➣ genre/au: dilf au, best friends father, summer house, smut, age gap [38 & 21] pent up sexual frustration

summary: a summer spent at your friend’s place wasn’t something to be anything to look forward to. her hot, young dad would seem to change that for you when you decide a game of teasing would suffice your boredom. you got more than you bargained for when you realize he’s not a fan of games.

… now posted

Peaches n Cream | Jeon Jungkook [ @jeonjcngkook ]

➣ pairing: dilf!jungkook x female!reader

➣ genre/au: dilf au, very light infidelity, smut, sexual desperation, age gap au (jk in his 40s n reader in her 20s)

summary: “the thing about illicit affairs and clandestine meetings — its born from just one single glance.” in the case for jungkook, this couldn’t be closer to the truth. as the return of his son from college brings a new guest into the house, it brings a new question ; where is jungkook finding the strength to resist you… or can he?

… coming soon

Accidental Roommates | Jeon Jungkook [ @jjkeverlast ]

➣ pairings: dilf!jk x fem!reader

➣ genre/au: dilf au, roommate au, roommates to lovers, enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, crack

summary: moving apartments is stressful and difficult enough as it is. all the planning and packing and multiple moments of rearranging furniture; all you crave is peace.

yet it seemed like peace was far within reach as the owner of the apartment had left out one tiny crucial detail from the ad — a ripped tattooed Adonis, coupled, with a tiny baby daughter will come as your roommate.

… now posted

taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @familiarlikemymirror3 @polyqueen101 @cherrymonlightt

join our taglist to be notified once they’ve been posted by amazing collaborators ✨ first look at everyone’s stories

#jeon jungkook #bts #jungkook masterlist #dilf jungkook #Jungkook one shot #jungkook #jungkook imagines #Jungkook drabble #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook x you #jungkook au #bts smut #Jungkook smut #bts collab #collab

3K notes · View notes

joonberriess · 2 years

Text

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ namjoon

⇢ ✧ ˚₊ sugar

boyfriend au. | 10.8k words | pregnancy, fluff, porn with plot

you have a long history with your gentle giant, there's a lot more to come in the future. alternatively you're the light of namjoon's life.

⇢ ☾ ˚₊ bad guy

dilf au. | 2.7k words | revenge sex, daddy kink, age-gap

getting back at your cheating (ex) boyfriend by fucking his dad, Namjoon <3

⇢ ☾ ˚₊ juicy

boyfriend au. | 1.5k words | manhandling, size difference, cunnilingus

having a size difference between you and your boyfriend, you can't help but love how big he's gotten..

⇢ ☾ ˚₊ freak

boyfriend au. | 1.8k words | degradation, creampies, unprotected sex

the boys thinking you're the sweetest thing on this earth and can do no harm. namjoon has a few words to say about that.

⇢ ❁ ˚₊ macro

college au. | 1.1k words | big dick!joon, tummy bulge, creampies

namjoon's known around campus for being "big", you wonder if you can take him.

⇢ ✧ ˚₊ homie hopper (ft. jungkook & hoseok)

college au. | 6.3k words | homie hopping, hook-ups, cucking

the rumors weren’t true… or were they?

⇢ ✧ ˚₊ me and your mama

boyfriend au. | 3.6k words | soft smut, drunk sex, pregnancy

you like to remember both what life before the little one was and after with your loving boyfriend namjoon.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ seokjin

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ yoongi

⇢ ✧ ˚₊ angel

boyfriend au. | 7k words | fluff, slice of life, smutty

he's yours and you are his. you didn't need a magazine to tell you that, because the media knew nothing about what went on behind the scenes.

⇢ ☾ ˚₊ what’s poppin

boyfriend au. | 1.7k words | chain fetish, sugar daddy!yoongi, raw sex

yoongi being the type to buy you a chain cause if he's pimped out, his girl gotta be too.

⇢ ☾ ˚₊ devil

idol au. | 1.5k words | fingering, cunnilingus, degradation

being a staff member who is corrupted by yoongi, who takes a dark interest in you.

⇢ ✧ ˚₊ shinunoga e-wa

husband au. | 1.9k words | soft smut, romance, cunnilingus

four times you said I love you, + the one time yoongi says it first. alternatively: five special moments with your beloved husband.

⇢ ☾ ˚₊ “baby”

idol au. | 1.3k words | car sex, corruption kink, creampie

having a “innocent” reputation, but yoongi ruins it by fucking you in the backseat of his car.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ hoseok

⇢ ✧ ˚₊ all mine

fwb au. | 6.9k words | producer!hoseok, casual sex, idol!reader

you never expected in a million years to work with the one and only jung hoseok. you also didn't expect to indulge in a series of hook-ups with the rapper, but like a good girl you obey your senior.

⇢ ☾ ˚₊ nda

idol au. | 1.2k words | blowjobs, fan!reader, throat/face-fucking

being one of the "lucky" fans at lollapalooza, getting a one on one experience with hoseok.

⇢ ✧ ˚₊ homie hopper (ft. jungkook & namjoon)

college au. | 6.3k words | homie hopping, hook-ups, cucking

the rumors weren’t true… or were they?

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ jimin

⇢ ✧ ˚₊ all i need

college au. | 1.7k words | bf!jimin, porn with no plot, lazy sex

it's a lazy afternoon and you're watching the sun set with your boyfriend who's between your legs..

⇢ ☾ ˚₊ want

boyfriend au. | 1.1k words | domesticity, porn with no plot, bf!jimin

forgetting all about the movie because jimin has other plans.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ taehyung

⇢ ✧ ˚₊ groupie love

idol au. | 4.8k words | hook-ups, degradation, one night stand

he was all yours for just one night, and you want to make the best of it before you go back to being just his fan.

⇢ ✧ ˚₊ sex talk (ft. jungkook)

fwb au. | 6.1k words | threesomes, hook-ups, fuckboy(s) taehyung & jungkook

you're seeing two hotties on the down low, getting your back blown out every other night by either one. that is until you find out they're roommates..

⇢ ☾ ˚₊ maneater

sugar daddy au. | 2.9k words | spanking, age-gap, blowjob

pissing off taehyung who is your much older, sexy, sugar daddy.

⇢ ❁ ˚₊ eat my love

boyfriend au. | 2k words | fluffy smut, spooning fuck, fingering

"fill me, fill you, I got some love, feel me, feel you, I got some love,"

⇢ ❁ ˚₊ captain hook

fwb au. | 1.8k words | hook-ups, multiple orgasms, protected sex

"i like a dick with a little bit of curve, hit this pussy with an uppercut, call him Captain Hook,"

⇢ ☾ ˚₊ ecoute cherie

fiancé au. | 1.3k words | domesticity, pregnant sex, body worship

traveling to Paris with Taehyung, just enjoying your time with your fiancé and unborn child in your belly.

⇢ ☾ ˚₊ throat goat

fwb au. | 1.1k words | blow jobs, porn with no plot, car hook ups

sucking the soul out of taehyung through his cock.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ jungkook

⇢ ✧ ˚₊ big ole freak

fwb au. | 2k words | toxic!jungkook, car sex, degradation

you're both exclusive only to each other. jungkook fucks the way he acts-crazy, hard. too bad you're only here for the ride.

⇢ ✧ ˚₊ sex talk (ft. taehyung)

fwb au. | 6.1k words | threesomes, hook-ups, fuckboy(s) taehyung & jungkook

you're seeing two hotties on the down low, getting your back blown out every other night by either one. that is until you find out they're roommates..

⇢ ☾ ˚₊ todas mueren por mi

boxer au. | 3.5k words | possessive jungkook, toxic relationship, angry sex

jungkook as a boxer and your boyfriend. he's your ride or die and you're his too. a modern day Bonnie and Clyde.

⇢ ✧ ˚₊ 90s american superstar

highschool lovers au. | 4.7k words | fluffy, car sex, unprotected sex

a small fairytale that revolves around you and your boyfriend of many years, a journey of your ups and downs as you both enter the future together <3.

⇢ ❁ ˚₊ daddy issues

dilf au. | 2.4k words | older!jk, unplanned pregnancy, daddy kink

“take you like a drug, i taste you on my tongue,”

FLAWLESS SERIES

⇢ ❁ ˚₊ flawless

dilf au. | 3.4k words | daddy kink, unprotected sex, cunnilungus

“you’re a doll,”

02.

03.

⇢ ✧ ˚₊ seven

baby daddy au. | 5.5k words | sleazy!jk, porn with plot, heavy dirty talk

"you know night after night, i'll be fuckin' you right," or: "girl hold on my baby daddy calling again."

⇢ ❁ ˚₊ pussy fairy

baby daddy au. | 2.6k words | breeding kink, fingering, shower sex

“that dick make my soul smile,”

⇢ ❁ ˚₊ slut me out

boyfriend au. | 1.9k words | porn no plot, cum eating, face riding

“put your ass in my face ‘til i get pink eye, fuck you anywhere, i’m that type guy,”

⇢ ❁ ˚₊ rodeo

dilf au. | 1.9k words | riding, daddy kink, subby!oc n dom!jk

“he love how i ride it, hop on that dick i make him get excited,”

⇢ ❁ ˚₊ malibu

baby daddy au. | 3.3k words | birthday sex, high sex, creampies

“she hotter than july in california, tan skin, eyes on it, stretched legs like the roads in malibu,”

⇢ ✧ ˚₊ do i wanna know

yandere au. | 19.8k words | stalking, dead dove, non-con/dub-con

“maybe i’m too busy being yours to fall for someone new. now i’ve thought it through, crawlin' back to you,”

⇢ ❁ ˚₊ agora hills

boyfriend au. | 1.9k words | porn w/o plot, messy sex, pussy whipped!jk

“love it when he hit and smack, too, baby lemme lick on your tattoos,”

⇢ ❁ ˚₊ 3D

pimp au. | 3.2k words | degradation, phone sex, masturbation

jungkook wants the real thing and not some picture or video. only thing is he’s on a business trip.

⇢ ✧ ˚₊ standing next to you

baby daddy au. | 6.9k words | drunk sex, angsty, fluffy

“they can’t deny our love, they can’t divide us, we’ll survive the test of time, i promise i’ll be right here, standing next to you,”

⇢ ❁ ˚₊ need to know

pimp au. | 3.3k words | oc’s b day sex, pussy eating, public sex

“i just been fantasizin, and we got a lotta time, baby, come throw the pipe, gotta know what it's like,”

⇢ ✧ ˚₊ kerosene

cheating au. | 15k words | dead dove, obsession, blackmail

“i can live in your dreams, will you be my fantasy little baby?”

⇢ ❁ ˚₊ lovin’ you

flawless au. | 3.5k words | nasty sex, anniversary vibes, baby making!

“i was made, for lovin’ you.”

⇢ ✧ ˚₊ the boy is mine

bestie au. | 6.2k words | red flags, degradation, jk’s meannnn

“i can’t wait to try him,”

JOCK!JK SERIES

𓆩♡𓆪 the much needed thread (intro)

𓆩♡𓆪 “why don’t you say so?”

𓆩♡𓆪 “i ain’t motherfucking sharing,”

𓆩♡𓆪 “eat it like i need an apron on,”

𓆩♡𓆪 “can we take this off and get naked?”

𓆩♡𓆪 “booty so big, lord have mercy,”

𓆩♡𓆪 “he a eater, he ate it for lunch,”

𓆩♡𓆪 “i heard from a friend of a friend that that dick was a ten out of ten,”

𓆩♡𓆪 “wetter than umbrellas and stickier than apple pie,”

𓆩♡𓆪 “oh, i’m falling, forever you and i,”

𓆩♡𓆪 “damn papa, you a rare breed, no comparing,”

𓆩♡𓆪 “it’s the way that you can ride, think i met you in another life, so break me off another time,”

𓆩♡𓆪 “you don’t have to admit you wanna play, just let me rock you till the break of day,”

navigation

halloween m.list

#— m.list joonberriess 💿

6K notes · View notes

ctrlsht · 11 months

Note

I want to request a ff. can you make yandere CEO sugar daddy jungkook ff? if you are accepting my request then please don't make yn the typical humble sweet innocent girl who gots herself into that situation just because her dear mom or grandma is on verge of dying and she doesn't have any money so she took that path to save them. no please make her character different. Like a spoiled brat and arrogant girl who wanna have lavish life and power forever and takes advantage of the fact of having powerful handsome most sought after man on her side. kinda gold digger type but not really since she doesn't want to leave him and she actually enjoys his obsession/yandereness until it gets too much. I want to actually see kinda negative female lead than typical positive character? Doesn't really have to be negative just bitchy kinda toxic demanding clingy character etc.

Btw i loved your ffs who is in control and seat of power. I hope you keep making more yandere Jungkook ffs in future. I hope to see more of your ffs in future. You have already become one of my fav author in Tumblr 🩷

Don’t Blame Me | sugar daddy!jungkook one-shot au teaser

pairing: sd!jungkook x reader genre: one-shot & yandere au

summary: You can have everything you want and need as long as you have Jeon Jungkook by your side. You were enjoying everything that Jungkook gives you and as long as you obey him. You’re sure to yourself that you will never fail him but he was the one who failed you. Everything is fine until he gets too much.

content & warnings: sugar daddy & ceo jk, college reader, manipulative behavior, unhealthy behavior, possessive & obsessive jk, yandere, bitchy reader, jk sabotaging reader’s career

date of release: June 12, 2023 | evening (KST)

Preview:

“Baby.” Is the first thing he said after a long silence between the two of you.

“A-are you… Mad?” He asked in his low and soft voice like he really sounded guilty from what he just did.

“What was that, Jungkook?” You finally spoke and annoyance is evident in your voice.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I just want us to have our dinner because we haven’t done it for weeks already.” His voice was still low and soft just like a child that was scrolled by his mom.

He doesn’t like it when you’re mad. It rarely happens but when you did, he felt like he did really something terrible for you to get this angry.

“It was our due date this week, Jungkook and we’re not yet done with our paper. We still have a lot of things to do and I don’t understand why you can’t understand it.”

He’s getting anxious with how your voice sounds. You’re so pissed and he immediately regrets the actions he just did.

You sound like you hate him now and that you regret being with him. It’s like any minute, you would open your door and leave him alone.

By just thinking about it makes him crazy.

He held your hands and placed them on his lips and you can feel his hands shaking.

“Y/N baby I’m sorry! I’ll promise that I’ll be the one to finish all your works I swear. You already knew that those things are only a piece of cake for me and I can finish that in no time I promise!” He speaks so fast and you feel his anxiousness within his shaking voice and hands.

“I acted without thinking. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He added as he intertwined his fingers with yours and his lips touched the back of your hand.

He’s too scared that he has to feel you right now in order to calm his nerves because when he doesn't, you might drift away from him.

“But seriously, Jungkook. What was that?” You asked after a long silence.

The more that you call him by his name, the more anxious he gets because you don’t call him only by his name.

“When I read your message—

“I thought you didn’t read them?” He looked at you in your eyes and he bites his lips.

“I lied. I’m sorry.” He admits and you become more confused with his actions. You don’t understand what’s with him.

“Baby, I'm uneasy and I felt that something is not right and I saw your location and I saw the guy and I don’t know, I feel like my heart will explode! Babe, I can’t sit well because you’ve been declining my invites multiple times and I don’t know what’s happening and I’m overthinking things.”

Even though he talks too fast, you understand where he’s coming from. You’ve seen this before and you know the reason why this is happening.

“So you thought that I ditched you for Yuan?” You asked, trying to hide your smile.

“Who’s Yuan?” When he asked that, you immediately cracked up.

“Baby, who’s Yuan?” He asked once again.

“The guy I’m with. Jungkook, what the heck!” You can’t take it as you laugh so hard.

“Babe, why are you—

“You’re getting jealous of someone you forgot! Who’s not going to laugh at that?” You speak in between your laughs.

Your laughs continued until you realized that he doesn’t find the situation funny. Your laugh slowly fades when you see how serious he is.

“I was just kidding! Why so serious, Ggukie?” You spoke and you clung to his arm. You still find the situation funny and you tried your best not to laugh since he’s being serious.

After a few moments, he spoke.

“Did you really… Ditch me?” He asked in his low and soft voice and you instantly looked at him in horror while you shook your head.

“Of course not! Why would I do that?” You respond in defense. He looked at your eyes trying to see the sincerity of your words but he’s having a hard time finding it. He looked away as he looked down and you took a deep breath.

“Babe, look at me.” You caressed his face as you moved his head to look at you. His eyes glow in the dark and you love how pleading his eyes look.

“I understand where you’re coming from but believe me when I say that whenever I decline your invites is because I really do have to finish something. Babe, you know how I value my academics and I am aiming for a latin honor. You know that right?” You brushed your thumb off his cheek and he closed his eyes to feel your touch.

“And Yuan? He’s just a research partner and nothing else. And please, don’t be insecure because of him. He’s nothing compared to you. And I don’t like him either.” You lean forward to kiss his forehead.

“Don’t you ever think that I would ever like him because it’s a fucking insult. I have a standard, babe and he didn’t even meet the 1% of my standard.” You spoke in a demeaning tone before you pushed your back at the backrest.

a/n: This is the first time that I received a ff request and tbh, I was kinda nervous because I might not meet the expectation of the person who requested it. I write everything based on what the ff requester wants and hopefully, I did it right! It was hard for me to go out of my comfort zone when it comes to writing (what I mean is writing a ff that wasn’t me who plotted it) but I realized, why not try it? To the one who requested this, I hope you’ll like it!

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daichiduskdrop · 8 months

Text

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Chapter 27

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers,

Warnings: slight implications of unhealthy eating habits

Words: 3352

Taglist:@thelilbutifulthings @ilovemoneymorethenmen @singukieee @cherrysainttt @felicityroth @mageprincess7 @lucis-noctiana @danielle143 @osakis-gf @girl-nahh @vintageoldfashion @neverthefirstchoice @juju-227592 @silentreadersthings @i-have-no-life-charlie @everyonehatesshani @iamkookiesforyou @dragons-flare @fangirl125reader @roseidol @frieschan @popcatx0 @liz67900 @exfolitae

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

Holding you close to his chest, Namjoon let his lips brush up against your neck, only a small bit away from your scent gland. You let him take care of you, the alpha gentle with you in his arms.

It didn't take much longer before a knock sounded, making most of you look up. With the packalpha's arms holding you even closer, gently moving your face into the crook of his neck.

Inside came a soft call from a woman's voice about having some of the ordered meals already delivered. Yoongi, who sat closest to the doors, went over, murmuring thanks, before he took the two paper bags of delivery.

It wasn't everything by no means, but a part of their meal had arrived, so he placed it on the coffee table. Taehyung and Jungkook were the quickest to look over what was inside.

Taking one bag each, they both started pulling out the things inside, with a box of four corndogs first to be opened. They looked quite appetizing, with a bit of ketchup and sugar sprinkled on each one.

„Oh wah...” Jin mumbled, taking one right away before the youngest even got around to it. „Hyung! Bunbun gets the first one! Sweetie, choose which one looks the best, baby."

Jungkook whined softly, frowning at the eldest. Chuckling nervously, the alpha placed the corn dog back in the packaging, letting the young alpha show you the small paper box.

„It's ok-okay, thank you, Oppa." You said softly, your hands tightening onto Namjoon's, the packalpha returned the gesture right away.

Letting your head rest up against his collarbone again, Jungkook sighed softly, placing the package down, his hands wrapping gently around your cheeks.

Turning your face towards him, the alpha's face was filled with concern. He didn't feel right having you not eat while they did. The youngest understood that it most likely wasn't just you not being truly hungry either.

You had been eating so well the whole time, and he was worried about what triggered this. Have you been just feeling too anxious in the building? There were many people you didn't know around, was that it?

Kissing your forehead gently, he smiled softly at you. „It's okay, my little bunny. Don't worry, baby, okay? He whispered softly, letting his fingers gently caress your cheeks.

„How about onigiri kitty? Look what alpha ordered for you, sweet kitten." Handing you a plastic package already opened for you, the second eldest smiled softly at you, his eyes gentle on your form.

Reaching out for the small box, he placed it in your palms—the nicely stacked up rice triangles with neat rows of sushi - there was cooked shrimp, squid and octopus, salmon rue, a shrimp roll, and avocado, eel, and crab hosomaki too.

When they noticed the way your home cuisine sparked a bit of interest in you, Hobi was quick to reach for a pair of chopsticks laying around, breaking them apart for you before he handed them to you.

„Here, sunshine, have a taste, bub.” He smiled softly at you, ruffling up your hair before he quickly tamed it back down, chuckling gently.

Hovering over the takeout for a second, you chose to eat a few of the sushi rolls first, chewing on the crab one first; the colour was intriguing.

Breathing out softly, Namjoon let his lips linger on top of your head for a few good seconds, gently running his hands up and down your arms.

„Thank you, pup.” He whispered softly, watching you fondly while you ate a little bit from the takeout. The packmembers felt their hearts calm down a little bit, and they themselves dug in—another two bags arriving in the mean time.

„Here, princess, take a bite for alpha... It's really tasty, isn't it? You like it, baby? Have some more, my precious little thing."

Jimin gently urged you on, placing the box full of chicken marinated in some sauce and udon noodles hidden underneath, sprinkled with sesame seeds on top of your lap.

He didn't give you the chopstics, picking up a small bite-sized piece himself before he gently moved it to you with a hand underneath, making sure you wouldn't get dirty.

Smiling widely at you and chewing with a satisfied face, the alpha was quick to feed you a bunch of the udon noodles, but when you gently placed the box back in his hands, he only smiled gently.

„Peaches, sweetie, taste this; it's really nice, hm? It's soft and chewy; you'll like it, alpha promises.” Letting you bite into the large, filed-up dumpling, you nodded a little, satisfied with the taste.

You couldn't really tell what the filling was, but there was definitely a bit of beef. It was tasty, but after you chewed everything up, you didn't feel like eating much more.

Sipping on the pink drink you received not long ago, you all enjoyed the lunch together, everyone munching on something.

Declining the offered bites of pizza, noodles, and cucumber salad, you rested back up against Namjoon, the packalpha pulling you to himself gently.

With your stomach feeling full, you felt cosy enough to let your eyes flutter shut. Noticing your tired and sleepy eyes, he left his scent cloud over with calming pheromones, one of the attributes brought in by being an alpha.

His pack members noticed the difference in his scent immediately, looking over as if they thought something was wrong. Seeing you just cuddling up to the man as he helped you rest fully, had them calm down, the alphas soon following suit.

And so, the room changed it's whole aroma into a soft, calm, sleepy-like den. Namjoon finished up the bite of his pizza before he rested back himself, gently caressing your temples and hair.

It didn't take too long for you to fall asleep, having them notice the way your breathing slowed down and turned more soft, your scent going down in intensity.

Placing the plastic cup you still held back on the coffee table, Jungkook smiled gently at you, his eyes lingering on your form for a moment.

„Hyung,... I want Y/N as our 'mega." The youngest whispered, looking up at the packalpha. Namjoon smiled widely, chuckling at the sudden confession.

To be truthful, it was quite unnatural for the young alpha to get attached so quickly; since he was the youngest, he got cared for for a long time, even though he discovered his second gender pretty much just as they debuted and formed a pack.

Jungkook struggled sometimes with it, agitated that his packmates would feel the need to take care of him—he didn't need it after all; he was an alpha and therefore could take care of himself well enough.

But still, with the packmembers often pampering him a little bit, have it be teasing or not, he grew used to it for a few years, his naturally dominant side hiding for a while.

The youngest struggled getting to know different girls and getting attached to them; no matter how many omegas their company offered them, none of them felt right, whether they were older or younger than him, girls or not—it just didn't work.

He would sometimes think that it didn't matter if it felt right or not; since he technically couldn't know how it would feel when the puzzle pieces fell together, how could he know this wasn't how it would go?

Still, over the years, Jungkook always felt weird, taking care of omegas or even betas, even though it should have fulfilled any of his urges.

Now that he was maturing, he felt his second gender side growing more calm and collected, not as overpowering as once before, even though he was still quite far from being fully ready for bigger steps in his life.

And when he saw you, when he noticed your scent, the alpha realised that none of what was before mattered anymore—you were there now, and he knew this was right.

Mating and marking you would be a step in the future, that was certain, but every good pack would keep the courting process long and slow; it was important to not overwhelm the omegas.

Oftentimes not the most caring alphas would mate the first heat that would strike, and after that, their ruts would alight with their omegas if it hadn't happened earlier due to the long scent exposure.

The courting was important for many reasons, as once mated and marked, the omegas would truly be a part of the pack, and getting rid off the attachment wasn't too easy.

Getting to know each other was, of course, one of the more social aspects of courting, but the process consisted of getting used to the sudden adjustments more importantly.

They might have a completely different diet, they might struggle with health issues, mental or physical, or the alpha might have a too demanding job and would then struggle to take care of the omega in much need.

While supporting a family financially, for a good, understanding alpha, the support would come through actions more.

They have to show the omega they can take care of them, whether it be by cooking, buying them new things, cuddling and hugs, or scenting—everything was at play.

And after many tiring and stressful years, Jungkook finally had the sweet opportunity to express that he was, in fact, a good alpha. He could care for you and support any of your needs and wishes; he was able to provide.

Now that it didn't feel forced to do and came to him so naturally, he knew you would be the one for him, the most important and sweetest.

„I know Kook-ah; I want her as our 'mega too.” Namjoon answered truthfully, smiling softly at the younger alpha before he turned his eyes back to you.

„We should get the den started... It could be a sweet surprise; get it done without kitty knowing." Yoongi whispered gently, resting his back himself while he closed his eyes, his head thrown back in thought.

„I looked at more bed frames that are online; we can choose one together later. We could start decorating the room in the meantime." Hobi answered, opening one of the windows on his phone.

There was a luxury furniture website opened, with a tab called 'DEN ESSENTIALS' showing. The alpha has already filtered the search.

Apart from the regular colour and material options to choose from, there was also a way to narrow down the search for the right bed set by the number of packmembers.

After all, they would want to go back to the den just for you, but if the bed wouldn't fit everyone quite right, it wouldn't be comfortable enough to yearn for it.

The room was large enough, and the alphas have been planning on stretching out the bed from pretty much wall to wall. They might add bedside tables, though.

They didn't truly discuss the design of the room yet, but even if they didn't, they all knew your wants and needs were the most important.

While Yoongi probably wouldn't be the happiest in a room full of Hello Kitties and Cinnamonrolls, as he would sleep on a My Melody pillow, if you wanted to have a den bright and pastel themed, he would never complain.

After all, as long as you would build a nest for them, which, considering how much more and more sleepy and cuddly you were getting with them over the days, shouldn't take too long, they would gladly rest at any place of the planet.

It was an old saying that any alpha will sleep anywhere under the sun, as long as they have their omega with them, and there was for sure a bit of truth in it.

„I asked pup about what type of bedframe she liked the best the last time we went to the store; she prefers the wooden forms.”

„Yeah, those are much more classy; they are more traditional too.”The eldest alpha answered, nodding gently.

He remembered one of his classmates from when he went to school. The student was considered fairly cool and popular, for he had already established himself a pack back then, even though he was still very young and, quite frankly, immature.

The frat boy had two omegas with him, and Jin always felt slightly bad for them, noticing the way his classmate would oftentimes treat them. The disrespect was unimaginable.

But still, since their scents aligned so well, the four mates pack, consisting of one more beta, had formed while they were all still fairly young, the beta being the oldest, 20.

And after the information went around the school, considering the students were still around 18 years old at the oldest, it was a thing that made the boy quite literally famous.

Jin never spoke to him too much; his scent fell sour on his nose, and since they were both alphas and Seokjin was very pretty, putting him in an equally popular spot, the classmate never really approached him, the two alphas choosing to never interact.

He did hear him talk to a few of the 'friends' he gathered around himself, laughing loudly about how they broke the bedframe last night since it was only metal and didn't hold up during his oh so strong rut.

Jin felt slightly sick to his stomach, worried about the two, probably frightened omegas, but even when he tried to erase the image of that alpha in rut from his mind, he never truly managed, a nasty memory.

„Should we paint the room too? It's just white now.” Taehyung asked, thinking about the interior. He was a great fashionista, but room decor wasn't really where he felt his strongest.

„Maybe dark grey? I think it would be best if we kept the place dark and cosy; it should help princess sleep better, especially if she will be napping." The alpha said softly, thinking himself.

„Yea, I agree. I think our best bet is to make it easy to sleep in. It's a den after all; we can worry about details later. As long as little pup likes it, it's all good.” The packalpha murmured, patting your head gently.

The packmates rested back for a few more minutes, until Jin got a call. Since his phone was on silent mode, the ringtone didn't sound, and so, you were kept in your sweet dreamland, while the eldest got told about Sejin already waiting in the meeting room.

He ended the call soon, sighing out, while he started to pack up the empty food boxes—they seriously ate like hyenas sometimes.

While helping around, the rest of the alphas sorted through everything quickly, going from the room to the hall to sort everything in the right bin, making sure to recycle.

„Baby? Sweetheart, my little pup, wake up now. Alphas have to go see Sejin-Hyung. Come on now, sweet baby." Gently coaxing you from sleep, you fluttered your eyes open, Namjoon's dimples showing.

Going to rub your eye, Jimin interweaved your fingers with his instead, gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckles in a sweet gesture.

Yawning softly, you were still tired, but let yourself be pulled up again. The packalpha slowly placed you on the ground, making sure you weren't so tired you wouldn't stay steady.

Smiling widely at your sleepy state, Jimin ran his fingers through your hair, letting Yoongi come by and take your other palm in his. The older alpha tutted at how messy your hair was, combing it down so it sat neat and pretty.

„There, kitty, hold alpha's hand now, okay? Let's go, little kitten." Gently pecking your temple, Yoongi pulled you behind himself, Jimin walking next to you.

With the other pack members all coming with you, the pack soon piled back to the meeting room they went to this morning. This time, there were much fewer people involved—only the same man and other one.

Smiling gently at you all, Yoongi softly pulled you along, letting you sit down before he and Jimin both took a seat on each side of you.

The room had a strong light on, and with how sleepy and tired you still felt, you just wanted to go back to the soft, warm place Namjoon had tucked you away to, and go rest some more.

„I prepared the documents for you guys. Read them through and sign them.” Sejin said smoothly, handing Hoseok, the one sitting at the corner, a stack of stapled papers.

Each taking one and passing the tower of files along, all of the alphas started reading through it, though Namjoon looked up at his manager first.

„Hyung, would it be possible to take Y/N with us to The Soop?” Sejin looked over, his expression unreadable, for a few seconds.

Resting fully in his chair, the manager sighed out in thought, thinking about everything.

„I mean... As long as everyone is okay with Y/N being on camera, I suppose it would be okay. There should be enough room for everyone still.” No one spoke right away, the packmembers turning to you.

You looked up to Yoongi, the alpha's hand taking in yours, not worried about the situation they were in. You nodded a little bit; it couldn't be that bad, right?

„It's ok-okay, if you stay with me, oppas." You whispered softly, Jimin smiling widely, happy to hear your gentle confession. His heart did a little flip, the alpha realising that you found comfort in him.

„Well, in such a case, you would have to reveal that you have started the courting process before we air the series.” The other manager, whom the packmates obviously knew well but had never introduced, said softly, eyes lingering on your timid form for a little bit.

The man realised that bringing you to the industry quite suddenly could be a bit of an issue, but considering how well the packmembers were to you, he also realised that you were doing exceptionally well.

„It will be aired at the end of June, and we are leaving to record by the start of May, so before then. Sejin said, sighing gently. He could imagine you being mated to them by then, but nothing could be certain.

And if you were revealed as only courted at the moment, some bad stuff could go down, and he didn't want that to happen to any of you.

„That's o-okay...” You said it softly, squeezing both of the alphas hands gently. The pack members smiled at your answer, proud that you would take a step forward like that.

„Alright. I will get the file ready for you too, then, okay? You can sign it later, don't worry.” You nodded happily, realising that you wouldn't be there to truly shoot a show yourself, instead tagging along as a companion.

Namjoon knew that Sejin wouldn't let much of the cameras linger on you, and your face might be censored the whole time too, but that didn't matter.

The fans they had would understand and want what makes them happy to happen, and since it was you, the true ARMYs would be more than happy for them.

Deciding to go into it with such a mindset calmed the packalpha down. Sure, he felt a slight worry at the thought of your reaction to receiving a negative response to being courted by them.

It wouldn't be because of who you truly were if that happened, though; it would be something that would happen because you were courted by them, not anyone else.

The alpha felt a pang of guild strike him straight through his heart, but considering how excited you were about the whole In The Soop series, he couldn't linger on it for too long.

You were a sweet little thing, and they would keep you protected, making sure you wouldn't feel bad for any of the unreasonable hate you could possibly receive.

The alphas were ready to tuck you away from the world into their arms and wouldn't let any harm come your way.

Smiling softly, the packalpha opened the file, starting to read through it.

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

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piedpiperslists · 3 months

Text

Jungkook One Shots (LXVIII)

* s - contains smut

Never Let You Go by @yeojaa s wc~7.6k / tattoo artist!Jungkook Summary: You do things without thought, making impulse decisions that’d make Freud proud. Sometimes they pay off, sometimes they don’t. (or: Jeon Jungkook’s just as impulsive as you.)

You’ll Let Me? by @honeytae s wc~2.9k / established relationship

Savage Love by @whatifyoulivelikethat s wc~3k Summary: We all make happy mistakes, right? And Jeon Jungkook’s was fucking Min Yoongi’s ex-girlfriend. Oops.

Still Want That by @whatifyoulivelikethat s wc~6.3k Summary: Fucking Min Yoongi ex-girlfriend? A terrible idea. Being hopelessly in love with her at the same time? An even worse idea. Knowing he was being used and still doing it anyway? Ah, Jeon Jungkook, what are you doing?

Hotel by @satnin-darling s wc~5.1k / ft PJM, established relationship, idol au Summary: Jungkook always comes to Jimin's room at odd hours in the day because he says it's boring to be all by himself, holed up in his own hotel room. The real reason, of course, is because you're there.

Late by @satnin-darling s wc~6.7k / ft PJM, established relationship, idol au Summary: Sometimes, it can’t be helped that Jimin and Jungkook are late. It’s no one’s fault, really, since that’s what usually happens when all three of you are together anyway.

[...] Trick or Treat by @satnin-darling s wc~5.9k / ft MYG Summary: The Joker, a Gray Pianist, and an Action-taker were supposed to walk into a bar on Halloween. Turns out they don't even make it past the front door because they were too busy fucking each other to partake in this year’s spooky season.

[LOVE - 40]/[40 - LOVE] by @satnin-darling s wc~11.5k / tennis player!Jungkook, journalist!reader Summary: At the end of August, Jungkook had to pull out of one of the biggest tennis tournaments of his career. His injuries were inhibiting him and he felt like he was back to square one. He returns to Busan for rehab and he gets interviewed by you for an article. But your twin brother had just died and you were shocked with grief. So you spend a couple of days talking about tennis but underneath the surface, you cover so much more.

Kismet by @satnin-darling s wc~14.2k / strangers to lovers, fantasy au Summary: In this life, you get to choose what to believe in, be it fate or chance. But little did you know that some people above are messing with you, in the most non- prearranged way possible. Enter Jimin, who works for the department of Fate, with his unlikely colleague, Taehyung, who works for the department of Chance. They quarrel to no end, pulling at the strings that hold up the universe to fashion something that resembles destiny or coincidence. As a result, you and Jungkook end up being mere puppets to their ploy, which begs the question: is it fate or coincidence?

The Arrangement by @jiminisnotavirgin s wc~5.6k / angst, sugar baby!Jungkook Summary: Jungkook’s dinner with you, his noona, is different than usual, leading to an interesting and sexual escapade… in the bathroom.

#jjk list #jungkook oneshot

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soraviie · 1 year

Text

chasing after you.txt

━ type: bts x f! reader ━ navigation

━ about: dynamics in order: Joon - one-night stand + enemies to lovers, Yoongi - neighbours with a bit of a bad boy influence, Jin - sort of arranged marriage au, Hoseok - exes to lovers, Jimin - sugar daddy/fake dating au, Taehyung - tease x anger issues/clingy + tsundere/f2l, Jungkook - bodyguard x ward

━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ previously posted on soraviii

NAMJOON: "Aw, fuck, who invited that guy?" you growled, whilst rolling your eyes at the corner where Namjoon had been so precariously sat like an asshole. You hated everything about him - the smug smile, the cocky tone of his voice, the winks he threw your way. Kim Namjoon was nothing but a sure way to get your blood pressure up and stay that way all through the night.

"Probably one of his fri- Shit! He's coming this way!" as your friend dipped over the bar and away into the crowd, courageous as ever, you snatched your drink partially pondering about throwing it into his face.

"You look lonely," he cooed with that shit-eating grin that you had wanted to smack away since the first meeting. And maybe to kiss but he didn't need to know that. "Why don't I keep you company?"

"Keep company with your left hand like you usually do," you yelled over the music.

"Well it does pair well with certain memories of you," he smirked and you groaned in disgust.

A misguided February 14th evening could lead to many foul things - unexpected pregnancy, STDs, Kim Namjoon having the delusional idea that you liked him.

Frankly, you'd rather endure a yeast infection than have this 6 feet fuckboy in the disguise of a pacifistic art lover keep chasing you every night out. More than once you wanted to slap your younger self only to come to their defence over and over again.

Namjoon was big. Big man. Big muscles. Big...well you get it.

And that may have made you a little bit stupid once! But not twice.

Yes.

"I can't stand you," you sneered at him with the most contempt you could possibly muster

"Sit on my lap then, baby."

You took a long swig to finish your drink, sliding it across the bartop and walking backwards, you levelled him down with a:

"You'd only cream your jeans, caveman."

"That's possible," he reckoned with a soft smile watching you mingle with the dancing crowd.

And for a while, it all went well, you'd find someone to at least waste some time with only for them to suddenly start sprinting away for their lives. You frowned after them, coming to a screeching halt in the fun.

Did your breath smell or something?

Taken with dancing, you hadn't noticed the broad-chested giant charging forth, smoke practically fuming from his nostril as his eyes glinted devilishly when tracking down the opponent. As the music changed, you found your waist circled by a shovel-sized palm.

"You really have no luck out here. You keep on being stuck with lil' old me," he whispered in your ear, causing long trails of goosebumps where his breath landed and you elbowed him, hard, in the gut.

He didn't even seem to mind.

"I don't know who you think you are Kim Namjoon but I will never-!"

"Oh, how you hate me," he lets out a burst of raspy laughter, head thrown back on the pillow, pulling you closer as much as he can despite you both being considerably sweaty.

"S-shut up," you grunt back, thighs aching but just a little bit more and you'll be in your happy place even if it was with this obnoxious gym rat. "You're just a cock on legs to me."

"Oh, for sure," he smirks and then prompts himself upwards to bite on your neck. "But you might think of screaming a tad quieter if you want to be really convincing."

It's a sick sense of deja-vu to wake up sore and aching all over in a sun-filled room overstuffed with cacti and a very soft blanket. The bed was empty and as you clamber to the toilet wearing a shirt found on the floor, struggling to walk, you stumble upon him in the kitchen - Cheshire grin spread all over his lips.

"Good morning," Namjoon greets. "You want some eggs, babe?"

YOONGI: His eyes track your movement as though it's dazed him and it's in moments like these you wish he was a criminal or something, a certified member of a mafia. A flag touch redder.

Stay away from Min Yoongi, they said, he's trouble but what to do when he doesn't stay away from you?

"So a kitten does come out to play," he purrs pressing one of those veiny palms against the elevator doors, halting it in its tracks and climbing in. You roll your eyes and straighten your back to appear more threatening. Yoongi, of course, couldn't give less of a shit.

"You're one to speak," you counter. "The most walking you do is through your apartment. It's like a herd of elephants."

"Well then don't listen in on what I do, you little pervert," he smirks, pressing the 8 on the elevator and it jerkily moves through the floors, reminding you once again to be grateful for life.

"Give it here," without waiting for a reply, he grabs the hold of your bags and goes straight to your apartment doors. Once inside he makes himself right at home, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

"What are we eating?" he questions gruffly, examining the produce with no small amount of judgment.

"You're speaking French now?" you push him away, relinquishing the rightful ownership of a pair of avocados you bought. "Whose "we"?"

He doesn't bother gracing it with a comment as anyhow a doorbell rings and you see his tongue poke against the cheek.

"Who the hell are you?" he questions sharply and you peer into the doorway.

"Oh, hello," you greet your coworker with a reserved smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Yeah, what are you doing here?" Yoongi echoes, placing his hand above your head and on the very edge of the door.

"Just interested if you're going to the uh... team bonding activities," he replies, fretfully glancing at Yoongi.

"Ignore him, I do," you smirk up at Yoongi. "And-"

"She has plans," Yoongi interrupts, pushing you back into the kitchen with his palm against your back.

"Oh, okay," your coworker stutters awkwardly, trying to lean in somehow. "See you around?"

"No," Yoongi cheerfully replies and smacks the door right into his face.

"You're such a dick," you groan.

"Did you have plans?" he asks with a teasing lilt, voice dropping nearly an octave lower. "And are you going to lie that it wasn't with me?"

"My jumbo-sized Charmander plushie and I are doing well on our own," you point at him with a packet of tomatoes. "Where you fit into the equation is a mystery."

"I'll tell you where I can fit," he laughed, wagging his eyebrows.

"No, no, goodbye," you wrinkle your nose in disgust, pushing his still laughing back out of the door. "Leave."

"Wait, what if I need some sugar?" he objects and you furrow your eyebrows, glaring up at him in suspicion.

"Do you?"

"No," he shrugs carelessly. "But what if."

"Begone, demon," you push against him harder but he seems to only enjoy it.

"Come to my game. It's right across the street in that park. I need a good luck charm."

"Will you be throwing a ball in your face? If no, then I'm not interested."

As you slam the door shut there still comes a raspy whine.

"Come on, short ass, come."

And if you do happen to drop by the nearest park with its shitty basketball court it's because you have nothing better to do and you needed some ice cream. Yoongi, uncharacteristically brazen for him, smirks at then winks in the middle of the game.

And promptly receives a ball to the face.

JIN: "Eat more garlic!"

"Straighten your hair with an iron!"

"Belch really, really loudly!"

You try to recall all of your friends' sage advice whilst pacifying your nerves. Being late nearly an hour didn't sit well with you but this guy was...determined. Insanely determined. So the ends justify the means.

When at last you arrive at the three Michelin star restaurant it's an hour later than what your family had set and you're wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. Your face may burn with shame at such a display but certainly, this would beat this broad-shouldered man off the path. This was beyond and above rude. You're already prepared to be yelled at, scorned and insulted but Seokjin merely blooms into an eager smile. Doesn't even blink twice at your choice of wear.

He dismisses the host with a polite nod and pulls a chair out.

"Hello, _________," he greets innocently. "Traffic is hell, right."

There was no traffic and he knew it only making excuses to achieve whatever nefarious goal he had set out to.

"Just give him a chance," your mother pleaded over the phone. "He's been asking about you forever. Please, he's rich and handsome, what's not to like."

What's not to like? Well, probably something. Kim Seokjin in your mind had always stood as that annoying guy who'd dropped a water bomb on your head when you were about to take the most glorious profile picture ever. Spinning in overlapping social circles, you'd seen too much of him growing up and had to endure several of your friends flailing over him especially when the pool season began. He was like a jar of honey to their fly status. And as such only a tar in your own pot of sweetness.

He was old. You had not exactly a criminal age difference but still more than 2 years. He was a creep, you firmly plant that idea into the recesses of your mind.

Why oh why, was he so insistent on asking about you?

"Good idea," he praises, pointing at your outfit. "It's best to be comfortable. I should have done that as well, this is quite uncomfortable," he waves a disappointed hand over the blue three-piece suit.

The waiter along with the menu serves you a freshly plucked side eye.

"Yeah, that's why I did it," dryly you mutter back, hiding behind the menu.

Think, think, think, what else turns off snooty men?

"Fucking shit," you cry out to your own amazement. "These prices are ridiculous. I'm not paying for this!"

"That's fine," Jin shrugs with that seemingly permanently etched expression of a tender smile. "I invited you here, I'll pay."

You groan.

"I'll fart," you threaten.

He shrugs and gracefully pours you a glass of wine.

"Everyone does that. It's a part of life."

You slobber your dinner up like a beast.

"Hmm, you're making the meal look more delicious," he nods.

And not even when you "accidentally" spill a mango sauce on his pants worth more than your apartment, does he weigh the thought of becoming angry in his mind.

"Ah, it's a perfect colour now," he merely congratulates with a jubilant cry and you let your head fall on the table with a thud, only it hits his palm as he had stretched it out at the last second.

"Are you insane?" you breathe out in sheer desperation. "Why are you not running over the hills?"

"Do you really think I can't see that you're doing this on purpose?" he smirks in amusement, over the rim of the wine glass. "We've known each other for a while, I know you better than that."

"Exactly!" you yell before falling into a hush as numerous daggers shoot your way. "You know me! As the annoying friend of your cousin! Why are you asking after me all of a sudden?! What joke are you playing?"

"Well, first of all," Jin corrects all too self-congratulatory. "I've never thought you were annoying. Maybe except when you were like 14 but who isn't the worst person in the world at that age? And secondly," his ears abruptly turn quite pink and he lets the wine glass rest on the table, nervously fiddling with its stem. "I asked for you because as you may know your mother is quite eagerly seeking various wedlock opportunities. For you specifically."

That makes you groan only louder.

"Don't remind me. So, so what? You want to get married to me?" you snort at the idea but then, for the first time ever, Jin is not laughing.

"Yes," he says dead serious.

"Wait, is this a prank?" you glance all around in an attempt to find the hidden cameras. "Are you pulling my leg?"

"I'm pulling no legs. What a weird thing to do," Jin muses and you narrow him down.

"Don't joke. It's not funny. Say "got you" or something. You can't be serious?!"

"Listen, ___________, I've liked you for a while now. I wanted to ask you before you began university but then you brought Jae home and..."

"Jae? Jin, that was...that was five years ago! You couldn't have liked me for five years?"

He averts his eyes and sips on his champagne. Even his neck is red.

"Five years?" you cry out. "And you kept quiet?!"

"Well, I told you now!" he objects with some indignation but even more of a burning shame. "All you need to do is to decide what you're going to do. 'Cause I'll accept you as you are, belching, sweatpant wearing and all. Even if you straighten your hair with an iron."

For a second you sit still and stupefied on this ridiculously over-padded chair ad then you feel yourself match the heat blooming on his face.

"You know Giulia?" you ask, downing the entire wine while desperately trying not to smile at the soft amusement in his eyes.

"Of course, I know Giulia," Jin chuckles self-consciously. "Who do you think gave me the genius advice of this stuffy suit?"

HOSEOK: You should have known from the start that this would lead to nothing good. What else could wait for you at the end of the nondescript hallways of conference rooms? One thing you didn't expect however was the loathsome face of your ex-boyfriend. Hoseok was sitting already by the table, beautiful as ever, leg nervously bouncing against the floor and treacherously a click of a lock snapping in its place echoes behind you.

He springs up from the seat, nervously glancing at where you tried to somehow break through the door. Or the wall, whichever came first.

"Oh, hell no," you growled, nails scraping against the doorknob. The betraying Brutus of a friend he had bribed to text you to come here will find an egg on their window for sure.

"_____________, please, let's just talk," he pleads. "Just let...let me explain."

"I don't want to hear any explanation," you hissed, turning to glare at him. From the way his eyebrows sloped, you could tell he was deadset serious but then it comes too clearly back into your mind.

That you were weird, not his type, that he doesn't understand you. But instead of simply crying about it you left. To cry about it in your own space. And also then turn incredibly bitter over it.

"I just meant that..."

"That I'm a freak? Yeah, I got it," you snarled before yanking harder on the knob. "Open the damn door!"

"No. If you're going to leave then please do the courtesy of letting me memorize your face."

You close your eyes, steeling your resolve. Don't give in, you reminded yourself, not after a whole year of hunkering through yet another heartbreak. Hoseok was just like the rest. Taking weirdness in all the things you liked, that you were. Why should you ever change for anyone else?

"It's been a year," you note sternly, having slid on the floor. He's also there, watching away from the small distance with a crease of a frown between his brows.

"Exactly. This year was one of the worst I've ever had," he confesses, supposedly earnestly. "I admit the things that I said were wrong but I did not mean it like that!"

"________________ is just a bit weird. You know the people I used to date, there's a bit of a difference, softly said," you quote him word for word. "And you said that to someone else! You opened your mouth, said that shit and thought it was okay!"

The sun behind the window had nearly slipped over the horizon and the office space was illuminated with a soft orange glow.

"You know the first time I met you, that was a lie," he mutters into the air. No one had come to open the door despite you nearly beating it off the hinges.

"Oh, that too was a lie, wonderful," you groaned, rolling your eyes but Hoseok remains sitting sadly by, occasionally passively twirling his shoe laces.

"I actually went past you on the street. Remember the crossroad by that small confectionery?"

You did remember. You lived right above it for a while, making your hair smell perpetually of candy for half a year.

"I...I got lost around there and walked past you, and you were sort of listening to your headphones, not looking around. I remember," he chuckled as though taken by an old memory. "You wore that knitted jumper that kept falling off your shoulder, the faded beige one and I just...I was so jealous of you, you were so carefree."

You glanced at him surprised. As far as you knew the first time Hoseok and you met was at a graduation gathering, a friend of a friend sort of a situation. And as you sat there, enjoying your barbecue by the side, wondering whether to dip your ketchup-stained hand in some weed brownies, he came up to you with the brightest smile, talking as though he knew you. Guess he did then know you.

"And the next day I went there again. I didn't even know why but I just did and you were there again. And I kept returning," he smiled at the ground but it quickly vanished. "Every day for a month before I met you at that gathering. Sometimes you were there, a lot of times - not but when you did it lit up my entire day. I didn't know how to approach you though, it's not a thing you do in the middle of the street, you know?"

"No," you affirm faintly.

"And when you left..." Hoseok winced at the mere mention of it. "I still kept going back," his breath was nothing more than a whisper stained with regret. The look in his eyes was downright depressing and you wondered if he had roamed around bearing the same heavy chip that you had. "And our favourite cafe. And your favourite park spot. I was there like...like a ghost lingering in your presence."

"But why did you say then that I was weird?" you sniffled, letting, for the joke of your own mental stability, some of that defence down. Attempting to look at Hoseok without the veil of contempt you've draped over him for a year. Dragging yourself back from hell was hard, dragging yourself from hell when thrust there by the one person you thought wouldn't do that - even harder. But by peeling off at least one cover, you saw many wonderful memories behind it, as slightly tainted as they were.

"I don't know," he groaned, hiding his face in the palm of his hands. "I was stupid. I meant in my heart that you were unlike anyone I've been with before. Not bad but different. And, yes, sometimes I don't understand you but I want to," he rouses to look into your eyes across the room. "I want to. And even if I never fully understand, I would like to make you feel heard and stand by your side nonetheless."

You stare into the sun to avoid crying. Stupid thought as no one ever stared into this glowing orb of light hanging in the sky in order to not get misty-eyed.

"What I said there was, I admit, crass. I was scared because I...with you I don't want to leave. I don't want to call quits when it becomes uncomfortable or becomes uneasy, I want us to grow together. And that scares me because, for the first time, I can really truly get hurt," he exhaled a heavy sigh, voice growing strained. "So when you left, no explanation, just gone in the wind..." he glimpsed over the horizon. "Anyway, I recognise me cornering you like this is wrong but...if you ran away because you felt unloved, I just wanted to show that I'd be chasing after."

Hoseok wiped at his eyes and briskly got up.

"But if you didn't and don't want me, I'll open the doors," from the pocket of his jeans, he fished out a glinting silver key. "I really just wanted to memorize you for as long as I could. I'm sorry."

He opens the doors and you called out -

"Hoseok!"

JIMIN: The phone kept ringing. You'd put it on mute but even so the bright light of the flashing screen stirred you awake and after a brief wrangle of putting the chip bowl actually on the table nearby, kicking your leg free from the grasp of the blanket, you simply watched it ring. After eventually growing into silence, it went to the 45 unanswered calls like the rest. You sighed turned to your side and slid the eye mask over the face, trying to somehow coerce yourself into immediate and indisputable slumber.

This was just the outward manifestation of his bruised ego, nothing more. You don't think anyone had ever rejected Park Jimin so this must be a new, unfamiliar feeling, one he'll get over in time and then maybe even laugh about it years down the line.

I mean, come on, you thought to yourself cutting the words like bloodied post-it notes in your own mind. There's no such thing as a rich handsome guy genuinely falling for someone so...

The disgusting words sprung too freely on the tip of your tongue so you settle for normal. To not at least give into self-hatred so easy. Such was the plot of romantic dramas and fantasies hence why it was fiction. Rich, beautiful people went for other rich beautiful people, normal folks went for normal folks. Dogs did not mix with chickens or pandas with capybaras. It was simply nonsense.

But as you close your eyes, the memories make it harder to be as clinically objective. All too well, you remember. His hands on your face, grasping as though he feared you would leave.

"Why don't you ever believe me?" he asked with heated desperation. "Nothing I say is ever good enough. Nothing is trustworthy!"

You tried to pry him gently away.

"Because how can I believe you? Look at yourself and look at me. This is not even opposites it's...unfathomables!"

You wished partially that he'd go to the good old Mr Park of the beginning, one who'd walked up to you in a cafe and asked if for a fair amount of money you'd be willing to answer his phone and pretend to be his girlfriend. And since the sum he called out was the rate of an onerous monthly rent, you'd plastered the sweetest voice you could in a matter of seconds with no questions asked.

When thinking of all the troubles when he approached you again, completely by accident, you had thought to yourself jail, assault, violence, even cannibalism for good measure, who knew what kind of sicko this stranger could be, but never you considered you'd be scared by the simple fact that he was in love with you. He had been cold, rude and brusque at the start and you had been fine with that, your "job" was to sometimes go to family dinners and lie which while not moral was not a crime.

Only then he invited to accompany him to his office, then to trips, then to movies and then one day you wake up in your bed and Mr Park, once a cold and resigned man, drenched in his own riches, is now making pancakes on your old stovetop and smiles the kindest smile you'd ever seen and asks if you slept well.

How could it not be a scary sight?

"I love you!" he shook you by the shoulders, not hard enough to hurt but as if trying to shake the bad thoughts out. "But you hate yourself! And you never listen!"

"They'll think I'm a gold-digger!" you cried. Just looking around his apartment made you sick. You couldn't even afford his carpet. How could he love someone with whom he shared so little with? He had never known the feeling of counting one's last money to afford bread or not buying something out of impulse. And you had never known the etiquette of polite brutality, of caring about who sits where because one word spoken at the wrong crowd table could destroy your entire livelihood. Love didn't change two profoundly different experiences.

"They don't think that!" he argued. "My parents wanted me to be with someone-"

"Poor?" you interrupted finally wrenching yourself free. Why was he so cruelly saying these things? He will just make you love him and then dump you with nary concern. Like others and then in time you will always think that you should have known better. Should have gotten rid of those rose-tinted glasses sooner not when they're smashed in shatters on the cold concrete.

"No!" Jimin immediately counters. "Of a different social circle! And even if they did, I don't care!"

"But the press-!"

"I don't care!"

"The rest of your relatives and friends-!"

"I don't care!" he yelled back, ripping at his hair, faint tears lingering in his eyes. "What will it take for you to believe me?! Please, why don't you believe me?"

"I can't!" you shrieked back in a sob. "Because better you not love me at all than fall out of it after some time! I don't want to be loved! I don't want to trust! I just want to be alone!"

Alone is what you were now but it felt no better.

"It will," you calmed yourself aloud. "Give it some time and your life will return to how it was."

Boring. Monotone. A single actor performing the most dreadful play to an audience of no spectators. You sniffled punching the pillow. Stupid Park Jimin waltzing into your life and making you think you were not the person you saw in your mind. That you were better. But how can you be when you're always "you"? A nameless face in the crowd, a cog in the machine.

No one, really.

As a sudden hand wraps around your waist, you scream and nearly punch the lights out of the affectionate attacker before in the faint streetlight streaming through the windows you recognized Jimin's eyes.

"How did you get in here?" you rustled in indignation.

"I had a key made. Remember? So I could greet you at home after work," he explained sternly.

"Well, you can't be here now-" you tried to argue, even push him out if needed, but he grasped at your legs and wrestled you to sit atop of him. You always fretted you were too heavy but he never objected.

"I'll leave if you order me to leave. Say those exact words: "Jimin, I want you to leave and never return back."

"I want to be alone," you muttered out of force of habit playing with the neck of his shirt.

"It's not the same," he cupped your cheek. "Until you tell me to piss off in my face, I'll keep chasing you every time you run. You think no one would? I will. Over and over again."

Your lip wobbled.

"It's ungrateful work," you breathed as he tugged you closer into a hug, gently swaying from left to right.

"Not to me."

TAEHYUNG: It takes thirty minutes for your aunt, a known stick in the mud, to go from screaming why was there a whole ass adult man traipsing in the apartment her niece should keep an eye on, to peacefully discussing the best nut selection over the kitchen table with eagerly listening Taehyung on the other side.

You were 35% convinced he knew how to do magic, and 65% convinced he was magic. And if he feasibly could he would live in your asshole. And the worst of all you can't get rid of him.

Well no, the worst of all you don't want to.

Coming from a rough environment, no matter how you slice or dice it, that leaves its own impression upon the mind. Yours being - people leave, people lie, people bad. It was easy to go through life, more than two decades of them in selective solitude, having friends but never letting them too close in and soon after they would stop even being friends. It was easy and predictable and while no one cared for you, you had to care for no one, could go where you wanted, how and when you wanted and fully enjoy doing what you liked.

And then this curly-headed now human reincarnated tiger-bear hybrid showed up. Literally dropping out of nowhere whilst still in university, pointing a finger of his frankly too large of a hand at you and then basically saying: "I want that one, that one's mine". Actually no, he did say exactly those words as you remember faintly chucking a dictionary of law at his head, thinking he'll abduct you or something.

And that's how six years later you were moved in. And he had invaded every part of your life, with his kind words, sopping eyes and chiselled chin.

As Taehyung slowly drifted to sleep, eyes falling heavier, his hand is intertwined with yours. And as you'll go to sleep yourself, despite him having his own bed, inexplicably you'll wake up with his breath against the back of your head.

Which was strange you know. You don't even remember agreeing to be friends with him. But steady as a clockwork, lo' and behold, at two in the morning, Taehyung's thigh squirms in between yours and he sighs in content.

Bizarre to say the least.

"Hey, where are you going?" he asks in wonder, poking his very shirtless body through the crack in the bathroom doors, toothbrush hanging from the corner of his mouth.

"Out?"

"Wait, lemme comme with."

"Can I go out on my own? As the big girl that I am?" you huffed dryly, brows furrowed.

"No," he replied with a smile. Then you walk side by side you glare at your hands, swaying together in the warm air.

"A crazy question, one I'm just putting out there, will you ever...leave?" you ask with a faint frown. There might just be this...supposition, guesswork if you will, in your mind that it might just be that somehow you're...Taehyung's partner now.

"Hmm," he makes an act of pondering it out. "No, no, I don't think I will. Unless you kick me out."

Kick him out. Why didn't you? When previous lovers threw fits about Taehyung always being near, you parted with them with nary of guilt because they were...not your rock. Your rock and safe space had become this strange, occasionally vampiric-looking, a cardigan-loving friend of yours. But he never vocalized it. Or so you thought. He was always teasing you about being hard of emotional hearing, now that you thought about it.

You halted in the middle of the sidewalk and he turns to glimpse at you, curious.

"Taehyung...are you...in love with me?"

Astonishingly, he bursts into a peal of laughter.

"I have been for years now," he chuckles light-heartedly. "Though thank you for finally noticing."

"Wh-why didn't you say something? Anything?"

An expression of deep fondness settles on his face and it warms you like the late summer sun.

"I say "I love you" every day, dumbass. I've chased after you for like six years now. Oh, god," he gasps, sounding suddenly absolutely horrified. "Six years of my life wasted chasing after your stupid head. Oh, I'm an idiot."

"So a moron for a moron, a match made in lower intelligence," you grumble and he snorts at it, crossing the distance once more. When he takes your hand it feels weird for a second. But only for one. You ask yourself what will change and realize - not much.

"That we are Mrs Kim," he coos with a broad grin. "Great! Now I can show you the plans for our shared tombstone I sketched back in the university!"

JUNGKOOK: "He's...will he be staring like that for the entire evening?" your friend asks timidly, voice nearly overshadowed even by the pleasant music of the brunch place. You glimpse over your shoulder to find him aimlessly lounging around. When meeting your gaze, his lips, almost involuntary, spread into a wide grin as his nose scrunches in a manner that is inappropriate for any self-respecting bodyguard. He at least gathers that and sobers with a stern cough.

"Yeah, he's just...my...finance manager," lamely, you trail off but at least they believe it. Considering the last three months it wasn't that believable.

"In a twist of miraculous fate, a poor vintage boutique worker becomes the sole inheritor of the Durhanan Estate," she quotes with a mysterious smile and you squirm awkwardly as you always did when it was bought up. Six years of lawsuits had rendered the luck into a frenzied fever dream one you thought would never come to fruition. Even when the final decision was laid to rest and the lawyers of your great-grandfather popped their champagnes with cheery eyes it all felt so distant. Like a different life. That feeling, you find out, never left.

"Yeah, it's...crazy," you chuckled self-consciously.

"So is the old house haunted?" she questions leaning over the table with keen interest, though every once in a while her gaze does stray worryingly to where Jungkook was standing.

"It's just creepy. It's big...and old," you confess perhaps colouring it with hues too bold, knowing only the answer such as this would satisfy her interest. It was old and entirely too big (who needed thirty-four rooms) but with Jungkook it was less lonely, less of a ghost house and more of a...

No, it's stupid, don't say it, you think to yourself.

"So now that you're rich," she throws a not-so-small of judgemental look over the crystal glass of mimosa. "Will you be forgetting all about us?"

"No," you assure her. "This means nothing. It's just a change of...housing."

But she only scoffs in reply. You think you might not have your best friend much longer.

"You look unhappy," Jungkook reckons quietly, whilst driving back to the Durhanan estate. A nearly 300-year chateau hidden within an unnamed forest deep in the countryside. Once the chief story of the local children's ghost tales and now - your home.

Of sorts.

"I'm just tired," you deny, peering into the rolling landscape of the wilting greenery. A rougher hand suddenly rests atop of yours, stopping them from ripping the skin around the fingernails. Your face swelters with heat and you gently remove his palm.

You were his boss and this was...this was not appropriate.

But Jungkook has other ideas and despite there being thirty-four rooms and whooping nine acres of gardens there's hardly any escape from him.

"My lady, oh, my lady," he calls across the gravel path leading down into the overgrown, ivy-ridden paths. He runs up to you and then gently tucks the bloom of one of the wild roses ravaging the grounds behind your ear. He tries to suppress the smirk on his face and narrows his eyes against the glaring sun.

"You're...you," he stutters. "You doing anything special, tonight?"

You don't quite know why but that question, posed so innocently and presumably out of a need to start a conversation, makes you laugh. It was only you two here, no wifi, piss-poor electricity and the nearest town, a village actually, was thirty-minute drive away and the only thing interesting there was a two-room corner shop.

"Wondering whether we're going to be killed by demons, yes," you laughed lightly.

"I was just wondering whether we could bust out the old reliable solitaire in the library?"

You sigh but it falls more endeared than annoyed.

"Jungkook, stop trying to seduce me."

At first, his face seems to be crestfallen only for a cheeky smirk to appear.

"Trying?" he echoed and slightly leaned into you. A gust of sharp wind broke through the gardens and in sync you glanced at the sky above your heads. A cluster of dark clouds was gathering in the south.

"Let's go in," he urges softly but his body standing behind you flames your back.

A thunder was ripping outside like something crazy, rattling the panes of the window so hard you fretted they would shatter at some point. And the house screamed. Every breeze of the wind seemed to tear into the old floorboards as though they were alive.

Ghosts are not real, ghosts are not real, ghosts are not-

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

You screamed your lungs out, lunging towards the golden candelabra perched on the bedside table.

"You're alright? Are you okay?" Jungkook's voice swims through the dark and you exhale in loud relief.

"Do not! Scare me like that!"

After a moment and a creak of the old floor comes a bashful.

"Sorry."

Another crack of lightning. In the brief flash, you see him standing, unsure but not leaving. It was a bodyguard's duty to protect and he always took his duty quite seriously. Even if this duty was simply to protect you from any unwanted journalists and stalkers where there was none leaving him practically with nothing to do.

"Should I stay here? Protect you...from the storm?"

You raise an eyebrow.

"The storm? That is-"

CRACK!

"Yes, please and thank you," you whimper and not even a second later, the side of your bed dips.

Crickets might as well be chirping at the moment.

"Do you want to hold my hand?" he offers, sweetly, oh so sweetly as if he wasn't a little demon wearing a cheap halo. But still, the house continues its wail. How many lives had been lost in these walls? What stories did they tell?

You didn't want to know and so you agree but as he takes your palm, your hand lands on a very firm set of muscles.

"Jungkook, please retake 9th-grade biology, your six-pack is not a hand."

"It emits the same level of comfort."

He trails your hand higher, over his pecks and lands right on his heart. It drums like a fevered bird underneath your fingertips.

"Why are you so nervous?" you hum and he rolls on his side and settles himself onto the pillow.

"Because I like you. And you like me. Even if you pretend that you don't."

"It's really not ap-"

"Appropriate?" he finishes and then tugs his hands over your waist pulling you closer. "Perhaps not but you know what happens in the spooky old mansion, stays in the spooky old mansion."

His warm palm cups your cheek, stroking it with a dizzied smile.

"And if it doesn't, I'm a really good runner, so you can scurry all you like," a pause. His hand presses you even closer.

368 notes · View notes

lovelyspring7 · 2 years

Text

White Pearl | Yandere JJK x Reader

Summary: You’ve been working as a stripper for a month until billionaire Jeon Jungkook suddenly takes an interest in you, actually maybe too much of an interest…

Word count: 4k

Genre: Yandere, sugar daddy au

Pairing: CEO Sugar daddy Jungkook x stripper sugar baby reader, short mentions of Cha Eunwoo & Jung Jaehyun.

Warnings: Yandere, stalking, obsessive behaviour, kidnapping, abuse of power, fight scene, non consensual touching, mentions of a dead father.

Disclaimer: This type of content is not suitable for all audiences and I do not condone any of the presented behaviours. This is purely for entertainment and fictional purposes and I don’t think any BTS member would act like this.

Authors note: Okay I’m really proud of how this turned out! I really hope you enjoy reading it and share feedback!☺️💜

In three days, Jeon Jungkook will become the heir of his deceased father’s successful real estate company. Jungkooks fate was written from the moment he was born, it was only a matter of time before it happened. The old man had it coming, drinking aged scotch and smoking the finest Cuban cigars since he could remember.

Jungkook has never been close with his parents. He despised them. His parents wanted nothing to do with him, his only purpose was to take over his father’s company, and Jungkook knew that. That’s why he wasted no time trying to get closer to his parents. It was no use. They made that very clear when they sent 7-year-old Jungkook to a prestigious boarding school with other rich snobs.

Although, being an only child, rich and privileged. All he had to do was to snap his fingers and he’d get what he wanted almost immediately.

The newest expensive car? Check.

Private jets? Check.

Luxury real estate? Check.

You could say he had it all, at least the materialistic stuff.

“I’m sorry for your loss Ms. Jeon,” Eunwoo said, greeting Jungkook’s mother.

“Thank you Eunwoo, Jungkook’s in there.” She said, slightly smiling. Not seeming bothered by her husband's death.

“Hey Kook, how are you holding up? Your mom seems fine.” Jaehyun said, putting his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder in a comforting manner.

Jaehyun along with Eunwoo have been his only friends since boarding school. All 3 shared similar backgrounds, it was obvious that they were gonna be good friends.

“I’m fine, I think she’s okay too.”

It was true, his father’s death didn’t affect them emotionally as much as it should’ve. It’s messed up really, and he knew it too.

“So how much did you inherit exactly?” Eunwoo asked.

“A lot.” Jungkook laughed, “Hey how about I treat you guys to a drink.”

“Sure, or we could go to the club? There’s this new strip club, who knows what the girls will do for just a few bucks.” Jaehyun asked, raising his eyebrow.

“You want me to go to a strip club the same day my father’s funeral was held?” Jungkook asked, offended.

“I’m in.” He quickly agreed.

“Alright! Be there by 11 and bring a lot of cash.” Eunwoo cheered, grabbing Jaehyun on his way out.

﹉﹉﹉

“You're late.” Your co-worker Bora said, reapplying her cherry red lipstick.

“Yeah, I had to send in my assignment early today.” You said, taking off your jacket and stripping down.

It’s been a month since you started working as a stripper at Black Pearl Club. You had originally applied to work as a bartender at the club but didn’t get the job. So to pay off your student debt faster and the rent this month, you decided that temporarily working as a stripper wouldn’t be so bad. Just until you graduate college you thought.

“Okay well hurry up and get ready, it’s getting really busy out there.”

“I know I’m almost done. Just need five minutes.” You said putting on your pink glitter stripper heels and quickly doing your makeup.

“Omg!!”

“What?!” You yelled at Bora, startled by her sudden shouting.

“It’s freaking Jeon Jungkook.” She said, peeping out the door.

“Who?” You asked, genuinely confused about who she's talking about.

“You can't be serious? Jeon Jungkook, the heir to Jeon Real Estate.” She said, pushing down her top a bit to show more cleavage.

“Look! He brought Cha Eunwoo and Jung Jaehyun. Okay, I’m going out there and you better hurry before the girls claim them.” She said, leaving to approach both of the two guys she mentioned.

Successfully snatching both of them. Wow, the power of Bora you thought.

Taking a last glance at yourself in the mirror, you walk out of the dressing room and start dancing to the music playing. Still being very new at this, you don’t attract a lot of attention. Intimidated by the other strippers, you try to stay low. Meaning sitting on people's lap, feeding them shots, letting them feed you shots. You’d occasionally go on the pole, but on busy days like this, you tend to stay away and let the pros do their thing.

“How did you even become a stripper?” A voice spoke out, loud enough for you to hear.

“Excuse me?” You said, turning around to the bastard that said that.

“I mean, look at you. You don’t belong here.” He said, smirking while eyeing you up and down.

“Listen, sir, I don’t know what kind of sick role play you’re into. But I’m leaving.” You spat, rolling your eyes at the freak.

“Wait, hold on.” He said, stopping in front of you.

“What?”

“I’ll pay 100 bucks in you sit on my lap.”

“Only by sitting on your lap?” You asked, skeptical by his offer.

“Just like I said, Princess.” He said, holding his hand out, waiting for you to grab it.

You reach your hand out to hold his as he leads you to a private VIP room. The room is very well decorated, the walls are painted in a matt black color, the velvet furniture, chandler, red led lights, and the strip pole in the middle of the room give it a very seductive and a sensual vibe.

No wonder why the room is so expensive, you have to preorder it days before. Now knowing he’s loaded because he just offered 100 bucks for you to sit on his lap. You started to think maybe you should’ve been nicer to him before.

He sits down on the velvet armchair, making himself comfortable as he sits you down on his lap. Puts his one hand on your right thigh and the other on your waist. Not knowing what to do with your arms, you gently wrap both of them around his neck. Takes a second to admire his features. He wasn’t ugly he was rather handsome. His tattoos and piercings make him look a bit imitating at first, but taking a closer look at his face, all you could see are those pretty doe-looking eyes and his cupid bow-shaped light pink lips.

“Like what you see.” He said, smirking. Knowing damn well you did.

Embarrassed that he caught you staring at him.

“It’s not ugly.” You admitted. He slightly grinned at your comment, “So, what brought you to work as a stripper?” He asked, scrunching his eyebrows together and tilting his head to the side.

“You’re seriously asking me that?” You sighed. “The rent is not gonna pay on its own, and neither will the student debt.” You said avoiding his eyes and biting your bottom lip. A habit you’ve always had when you get nervous.

You couldn’t see it, but you felt his aroused stare on you. You felt a slight shiver down your spine as you glanced down at your hands, thinking how much longer you must sit on his lap.

“You’re more of a white pearl.” He finally spoke up, changing the topic all of the sudden.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you remind me of innocence, purity, and beauty.” He explained in a charming tone, pulling you closer to himself as he brought his hand underneath your chin, slightly tilting your face up to meet his.

“I watched you the whole time you know, clearly you’re not cut out for this.” He said grinning.

“Give me a break, I've been here for a week.” You lied, feeling embarrassed.

“Hmm right, how about I make you an offer you can’t refuse.”

“What would that offer be?”

“Be my escort.”

“Okay bye,” You said trying to get up from his lap but his hand on your waist prevented you from being even able to get up.

“Easy baby. Don’t worry, I’m not talking about that kind of escort. Think of it more like a sugar baby.” He said, caressing your thigh.

“I’ll take you to parties, spoil you with gifts. I’ll even pay you a thousand dollars for each hour you spend with me.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Something tells me you’d seem fun to spoil.”

Thinking of the condition you’re in, it couldn’t get any worse. You already have another part-time job at the cafe that’s been kicking your ass as well. Sure it wouldn’t hurt to go to a few parties with him…

“Fine, but I’m not doing anything more than what I’m doing now.”

“Very well, I’ll pick you up by 5 tomorrow to discuss some rules that I have of my own.”

“Rules? What rules?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

He said, taking a card out from his front pocket, it seems to be some kind of business card along with a 100-dollar bill. He gently squeezed your thigh, “Just as I promised, see you, tomorrow princess.” He said, giving you the card with the bill, taking a last look at you before leaving you in the room feeling dumbfounded. You look at the card, it was black with gold engravings, along with his contact information. You read the name on the card, “Jeon Jungkook,” you muttered. No freaking way, the guy Bora was talking about earlier?

Now, this was your chance, if he’s loaded like Bora mentioned, then you could easily get your life together and not live in debt. Sure it’s not ideal, but it’s better than any other solution you had left.

﹉﹉﹉

You had just finished your lecture and were ready to leave campus to your home building. Feeling tired from not getting enough sleep from your busy work and school schedules. You rub your eye with your palm to try to stay awake, as soon as your vision sets you spot a black Bugatti parking in the nearby campus parking lot. The person getting out was none other than Jeon Jungkook. He looked a bit more casual than he did yesterday, yesterday he was wearing a classic suit with a tie. Today he wore a black silk-like blouse tucked into his pants with a black blazer, and to top it off, some silver piercings and a chain around his neck.

He walked up the stairs and greeted you with a smile “You ready?”

“How’d you know where I go to school?” You wondered.

“I have my ways” he smirked, reaching his hand out for you the second time this week. Rolling your eyes at his reply, you grab his tattooed hand. You could feel people staring at you, and for once in your life, you didn’t feel embarrassed, uncomfortable, or anxious. You felt safe. Still holding your hand, Jungkook opened the car's front door, helping you get in.

Yeah, you could get used to this.

The car ride was mostly quiet, thankfully he had put the radio on for you. It wasn’t long until you reached the destination, you knew it the moment you saw a huge tall building, one you couldn’t even imagine existed.

He parks the car and helps you out, next thing you know you’re standing next to Jungkook as he types in the code to enter his apartment. You couldn’t help but mildly widen your eyes when he opened the door to his penthouse. Amazed by how beautiful and big his apartment was, “Like what you see so far?” He smiled amused, putting his hand on your back and guiding you to what looked to be his office. You sit down on the other side of the desk, “So, where were we, baby?” He said taking out some paperwork from a file.

“You said you had some rules?”

“Right, they’re not hard to follow so it should be okay princess.” He said, giving you a paper with the rules written on it.

Rule number 1:

Until the contract expires, you’ll be living with Jungkook.

“What?!”

“Hm? What’s a wrong babe?”

“I can’t live here!”

“Why not?”

“I have my apartment, and it’s too far away from school and my jobs.”

“About that, you no longer work there. I mailed both the cafe and strip club, you quit a few hours ago.”

This bastard-

“And you have a chauffeur from now on. You didn’t think you’d be working there while being with me? It would be too stressful for you so I took care of it.” He simply said like it was no big deal, further pissing you off.

“Yes but…ugh never mind. But I’m sleeping on my bed.” You demanded.

“Whatever you say, baby.”

Rule number 2:

Jungkook will pick out your clothing.

“Really? Rule number 2.” You said, not slightly amused.

“Well, I have to make sure I take good care of you don’t I.” He said, grinning.

Fair enough, you thought.

Rule number 3

Always let Jungkook where you are at all times.

Reading all the rules, which was 3 in total. It didn’t seem so bad. So you agreed, signing the contract in a heartbeat. Later, Jungkook showed you around the penthouse, after all, your stuff arrives at his house, you unpack and get settled into your current home.

Jungkook had told you about a party tomorrow night. It was a celebration because he would take over his deceased father’s company.

And now, you’re currently sitting at the dining table, with Jungkook sitting at the other end as you guys eat dinner cooked by a professional chef. You weren’t gonna lie, it was the best meal you’ve ever eaten. Devouring almost all of your food, you finally dared to ask him about his father.

“You said something about your father passing away? I’m sorry, it must’ve been tough.” You said, giving him a weak smile.

His expression changed almost immediately as he stopped chewing for a moment, he had this cold look in his eyes. Almost like I had mentioned an enemy. He takes a sip of the red wine before speaking. “Don’t be, the old man had it coming.” He said in an emotionless tone. Clearing up his throat, “We should get ready for bed, we’ll have a long day tomorrow.” He said, whipping his mouth with the napkin. Not needing to ask further questions, you quickly understood what kind of relationship he had with his father. Almost feeling bad for him, you agreed and went to wash up in your room.

“Princess, may I come in?” Jungkook asked,

“Yeah it’s fine, come in!” You shouted from the bathroom as you turned off the hairdryer.

“I brought you a gift.” He said, placing the large gift box on the dresser.

Excited to see what his first gift was, you pull the string of the white ribbon and open the box. Not sure of what it is, you take it out.

It was the most stunning red dress you’ve ever seen, you couldn’t help but to slightly open your jaw, amazed by how beautiful it was.

“I’m guessing you like it?”

“I love it.”

“There’s more.” He said excitedly, taking out a small jewelry box, you opened the box in his hands, and inside it was a simple yet stunning white pearl necklace.

He gently grabs your waist, turning you to the mirror as he moves your hair to the side, keeping eye contact with you through the mirror, he successfully puts on the necklace. He doesn’t let go, instead, he just stands there, still holding you as he admires all of you.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful.” He whispered in your ear.

You swallow harshly before speaking up. “We should go to bed.” You said in a low voice. As soon as you said that, he slowly let go of you, “You’re right, tell me if you need anything.” He said, looking almost embarrassed, wishing you a good night before closing the bedroom door.

﹉﹉﹉

Weeks had gone by, and everything was going great. Jungkook kept his word and he even sent you more money than he had promised you, plus the expensive gifts you’ve been receiving every day.

He was also getting less of a jerk compared to the night you first met. As each day went by, he was getting more and more caring and affectionate. For example, he’d visit you from his busy schedule during your school breaks to have lunch together to make sure you ate, and he’d often compliment you on how astonishing and pretty you are. He’d spend more quality time with you alone and not with other people, preferring to spend time with only you doing various fun activities you never thought you’d have the chance to. Turns out you had some things in common, you both preferred to stay home, watching old movies and stuffing your faces with food.

You arrive at Jungkook's penthouse late from school, and you see another gift placed on your bed. You squeal, excited to see what he had gotten you this time. You open the gift and inside is another dress to die for, but also a small white note.

Wear this tonight Beautiful and be ready by 7.

- Love, Jungkook

Putting the breathtaking dress on, you stop to look at yourself in the mirror and wonder what Jungkook exactly sees in you to think that you’re so beautiful. Taking a last glance, you can’t help but think how different everything would’ve been if you hadn’t worked as a stripper 2 months ago and met Jungkook. Trying to find the right heels for your dress, you heard knocking on the door. “Come in,” you say whilst sitting on the bed to put your shoes on.

“Are you ready? Oh here let me help.” He said, taking the shoes from your hand. Kneeling, he put your foot on his thigh as he gently slid on one heel after the other.

”Come on baby, I have a surprise.” He said opening the door for you. As mentioned before, Jungkook had become more affectionate. The whole car ride, Jungkook had put one hand on your thigh while driving, caressing it soothingly and delicately. You didn’t mind as it made you feel calm and safe.

Arriving at the location, it seemed like it was a dinner surprise at a very fancy restaurant. Standing outside of the building, you start to feel a little unsettled, Jungkook notices and walks next to you offering you his arm which you gladly take as you walk in together.

“This is very nice, thank you Jungkook.”

“It is my pleasure, expect more of these in the future Princess.”

“Welcome to Jungsik, I’ll be taking your order tonight.” The waiter said, turning to you as he smiled waiting for you to order.

“Thank you, I’ll have the-“

“Wait, I’m sorry, you look familiar?”

“Oh, I do?” You said anxiously.

You could see Jungkook trying to hold back, poking his tongue into his cheek, slowly curling his hand into a fist.

“Right! You’re one of the strippers at Black Pearl Club! Shit you looked so hot in-“

“Okay, that’s it!” Jungkook yelled, grabbing the guy by his collar, ready to grow the punch “Jungkook stop!” You yelled, looking at him terrified.

Jungkook turned his head to stare at you, breathing heavily through his nose, aggressively letting go of the trembling guy that was trying to catch his breath.

“Come on baby we’re leaving.” He quickly said grabbing your wrist while shooting daggers with his eyes at the waiter.

You were shit scared, never have you seen him like this. Sure he could be a teasing jerk sometimes but on no occasion have you seen him like this. It was as if he wasn’t there at all, if you hadn’t stopped him from beating that guy up things could’ve ended badly. The car ride back home was silent, he was driving home so fast you were surprised the cops didn’t stop you guys.

“I have some paperwork to take care of. You can get ready for bed, okay princess.” He said, smiling weakly.

Not knowing what to say and frankly too shaken up from the incident, you just nod. Done preparing, you sit in your pajamas not wanting the night to end the way it did. After all that happened today, you wanted to make sure that Jungkook was at least okay. You tiptoe on the cold tile, ready to knock on the slightly ajar door.

“Yes, Son Jiho, at Jungsik restaurant. Take care of it, I want him gone for good.” Jungkook said, speaking through gritted teeth. Hanging up, a cruel smug smile formed on his face as he took a deep breath in, chuckling at the thought of that man’s death.

You stood there frozen with your eyes widened, your heart started beating fast and your chest felt tight. You finally took a step back, trying to recollect yourself. You quickly hurry back into your room, standing there for a second before quickly packing your old back bag. You had enough cash to get away from that crazy bastard. Packing all the necessities, you quickly got changed into some of the other clothes you still had left from before. Slightly opening the bedroom door, you peek to see if he was there. The lights were all turned off which meant he had gone to bed, carefully closing the door, you tiptoed to the front door. You type in the code but it won't open, you blame the dark so you try to type it again.

“Princess?” You heard his voice call through the dark. You slowly turn around to face him.

“Where are you off to so late at night?” He asked, walking closer to you.

“I forgot my book at the library the other day and I need it.” You said, trying to sound as casual and calm as possible.

“Oh really? So you didn’t happen to overhear me in the office earlier.”

He knows.

He started walking even closer to you, trapping you in the corner of the room.

You could feel his breathing down your neck. Swallowing harshly before speaking up. “W- what happened to him?”

“Oh you don't have to worry about that baby” he cooed, “but if you must know.” He said, looking into your eyes, as he gently stroked your cheek.

“He’s in a better place now.” He said, smirking.

Too scared to move away, you closed your eyes trembling out of fear. How did you get yourself into this mess?

“Enough about him. You weren’t leaving me, now were you baby?”

“No.” You whisper, lying through your teeth.

He exhaled out, relieved, “Oh thank god, my good girl wouldn’t leave me, not that you could anyways.” He said smiling, holding your face with both his hands, admiring your features.

“What?”

“The moment you signed that contract you were officially mine.”

Your heart skipped a beat, trying to get away from him, “What? No Jungkook I-“

“I’m the only one that can look after you! Hell, I was the only one who helped you when you needed it the most! You need me!” He yelled as he got frustrated.

He tried to take a deep breath in, trying to calm himself down. “All, you need to know is that you’re mine, I’m not ever letting you go ever and the sooner you accept that, the better it will be for you.” He said, forcing a smile.

“Do you understand?” He asked.

You slowly nodded.

“I’m sorry I didn’t hear you?” He asked again, trying to catch your gaze.

“I understand.” You choked out.

“Ohh there’s my good girl.” He softened, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“You must be tired huh baby?” He said frowning, letting go of your face as he held your hand instead.

“Come on baby, let’s go to our room and get ready for the night.”

#white pearl #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts yandere fanfic #yandere bts #bts yandere #jungkook yandere #yandere fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #Jungkook Yandere fanfic #Jungkook Yandere fanfiction #jungkook oneshot #jungkook fanfiction #bts #yandere

2K notes · View notes

kth1 · 1 year

Text

BR: Red Eyes (m) | KTH

Red Eyes [Taehyung x Reader]

⟶ Genre: Vampire Au | Smut | 18+ ⟶ WC: 20k+ ⟶ Warnings: slight sugar daddy taehyung, slight dom/sub themes, shower scene, soft massaging, featuring vamp!jin and vamp!jungkook, oral (f), fingering, biting, name-calling, descriptions of rough sex, blood warning, nipple play, creampie, semi aftercare, vamp blood can be used as a heal and could be a hallucinogen, etc ⟶ Summary: You begin to figure out that Taehyung is a man of his word. Slowly but surely you’re slipping further into the expanse of his expensive world. But are you willing to accept? ⟶ Beta: Thank you all for assisting me through this fic and pointing out the areas I need to work on. This has come a long way but I'm happy to get it out into the world! @amourtae @jeonjcngkook @caelesjjk ⟶ Author’s note: Surprise! Over a year and a half later after the release Black Ravens, I finally decided to dedicate myself to a series! I never stopped thinking about the what ifs with vampire Tae, especially the one I wrote. I hope people give love to this, I really do. If I forgot any warnings, please contact me.

Series Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ Masterlist

It’s dark beneath your eyelids, but you’re too lazy to open them.

Something — a distant noise of some sort — stirs you from your sleep.

The smell of burnt incense mixed with freshly turned earth fills your nostrils as you take in a heavy breath. Your head rolls to the side, landing on an even softer cool plush of — what feels like — a pillow crafted by the Gods themselves. It cradles your head delicately, like placing a newborn baby down in its crib for a sweet night.

Deep voices whisper about; hushed tones purposely low to avoid your ears. It all sounds faint, muffled from your hazy sleep-state. You couldn’t care less about what’s to be said. The bed you're residing in feels like it stretches for miles as it makes sure to hold you captive in its undeniable comfort anyways.

There’s no question how much your body is begging for rest; you can barely move to a new position without a strong ache protesting against your muscles. The comforter draped over your limp body is cool to the touch, a soft fur-like fabric cuddling every inch of your body. Thankfully, it hordes all your body heat underneath it.

But, who dares disturb your slumber at this time?

It’s hard to make out the words each voice speaks at first. Both are deep with respect, conducting a tune to your ears like a lullaby.

“Are you sure about this?”

“I’m positive.”

“She’s not going to be happy about her.”

You register the melodic tune of one of those voices. No doubt in your mind it sounds exactly like Taehyung. Oddly, with that knowledge of his presence you feel slightly more at ease. Ready to admit defeat to Mr. Sandman with no hesitation.

“Just… don’t worry about it. It’s my choice, not hers.”

There’s a pause between the two voices. It feels as if you caught yourself napping and missed out on the rest of their conversation. You beg your own body to get comfortable once again, clutching your arms needily around a nearby pillow as you hold it closer to your frame. The soreness of your muscles ache, body feeling beaten and ravaged. You feel the tightness of your neck and back grinding with the way you bend, objecting to any sudden or harsh movements.

The pain comes from the last thing you remember – being pinned down and clutched by a leeching vampire by the name of Taehyung.

A single palm comes resting against the top of your head, lengthy cool fingers pet away the stray hairs falling into your face. You feel frozen from the gesture, though the hand feels like it’s encouraging you.

With a voice that reaches straight to your bones, you hear the calming words, “Go back to sleep, kitten.”

You’re not positive when you fully come back to your senses. Blaming the sweltering heat rising from under the covers, you push off the fabrics piece by piece until only a thin sheet rests over your frame. The uncomfortable tightness in your lower abdomen constantly reminds you of an urgent need, begging for you to relieve the tension before it becomes too painful holding it in. Once your eyes flutter open, wiping away the hard crusts that formed, you begin to ponder your surroundings.

A burning fireplace sits at the far end of the room, crackling wood bends at the fire’s warmth. Ash gray walls surround you, hinted with intricate etchings on the baseboards and a collection of black and white paintings. A sheer black canopy falls loose off the top of the bed frame, draping down around the mattress of which you still lay.

Everything that you set your eyes upon just screams the word expensive.

You don’t recall a place as such, most definitely not your own room nor any from Black Ravens. As you start to search for answers, you twist your head to view a row of black blinds shut tight against a large window. Perhaps seeing outside would help, maybe you can recognize the area.

Slowly, you’re able to shift your body up the bed even though your pain argues against the actions. When your legs manage to hang off the side, seconds from your feet touching the darkened wood flooring, a soft noise startles you.

To your left, nearly blending in with the curtain of the bed, stares two copper eyes. The sound you hear is nothing but a soft meow from an observing cat batting its tail slowly. Its whiskers pucker as it sniffs the air just before it stands up, stretching its lengthy limbs and scooting itself off the covers. You watch the line of its path straight to the crack of a doorway as its paws pad softly against the flooring.

Through the opening crease, you notice the amenities of a bathroom. Instantly, it reminds you of how badly your body needs to be taken care of, and now with direction, you follow the innocent feline into the separate room.

You wince at the light that clicks on, blinding your sight momentarily and causing you to stumble into the side of the sink’s counter. You curse under your breath, hand covering your eyes until you bypass the cat which sits promptly up on a towel drawer until you find the seat of the toilet.

Surprisingly, you find that you aren’t wearing any underwear. Only an abnormally large plain shirt thrown on you, loose like a dress and drops low to accommodate your body and covering the important parts. You recognize it as one of Black Raven’s “cover up” shirts, mainly worn after a participant's clothes have been ruined. You hoist the fabric upon sitting down, ready to do your deed, until you lock eyes with the waiting cat.

“Are you just going to sit there and watch me?” Your poor fragile voice sounds more hoarse than you anticipated. Your vocal cords strain roughly.

You huff to yourself, shaking your head a little at the ridiculousness of questioning the animal. But as if it understands you, it turns its head away from you as if you’re not good enough for its attention.

Your eyes scan down and disapprove of all the markings left on your legs, wounds all pinched shut and coating over with fresh layers of scabs. One bite mark looks particularly angry, it hurts to the touch. As you lift the fabric on your body higher, you notice more.

“Taehyung really went to town on me…” you mumble to yourself.

Bruises litter your hip, even a scratch mark rakes down your waist. If you weren’t so into the pleasurable state of sex, you’re sure all these blemishes would have been more painful. More noticeable.

Pieces of your memory mold back together the more you wake up. Finishing yourself with the toilet, you find yourself staring far too long into the lengthy mirror above the sink. You study the discolored markings, how drained your face looks as it stares back at you in the reflection. The liveliness of your body looks as dull as ever, these grotesque markings are no help at all thanks to Taehyung.

Well… you remember three were from his elusive coven mate, Jimin.

The clear glass of the shower door calls your attention in the background of your scenery. What you would give to shove your entire face under the showerhead and watch the water swirl down the drainage pipe. To have the hot water cascade across your cold skin and to be engulfed by the steam hovering your own body.

However, those blissful thoughts snap in two when the cat meows at you once again.

It stands proudly, jumping down and out the door. When it doesn’t feel your presence following suit, it calls to you again.

So the cat is leading you around now, is it?

It paces quickly to another door hidden from the view of the bed and begins scratching at the bottom edge of the frame. The poor thing must have been locked inside of here with no way out, you think.

Ignoring the pains pricking at your muscles, you step up to the door to twist the crystalline knob and open it just enough for the feline to step through. The crack is just enough to give you a view of a lengthy hallway, endlessly trailing to God knows where.

You close the door as silently as possible before rushing yourself back to the bathroom for that heavenly shower you desperately need. Collecting all the materials you may want to use, mainly a few towels to wash and dry your body that you found in a nearby closet, you briskly twist the shower’s nozzle and test the temperature of the running water.

“You’re awake,” a deep voice comes out from behind you.

It nearly causes you to jump forward into the glass shower door, but luckily you catch yourself from being too dramatic.

“I… uh –”

“– Good evening,” Taehyung smiles. His eyes trail your figure, watching the way you hold the towels closer to your body the moment you look back at him. “How are you feeling, kitten?”

You nod slowly while you take a more casual stance as you face him. His gorgeous hazel eyes melt you like butter sitting in the sun for too long, turning liquidy the longer you stare back into those crisp irises.

“Not going to speak?” He lifts an eyebrow as he takes a step inside the bathroom. His foot kicks the door closed behind him as he begins to shrug out of the denim jacket he wears. The fabric collides with the tile floor below as he continues his actions with other pieces of his clothing. “It’s quite alright. Take your time warming up to me.”

“A–Are you going to take a shower?” You blink at him, trying to process the reason why one by one his clothes are being thrown off his body. He doesn’t hesitate at all, minding you no business as all you can do is watch him as you stand there stunned.

“We are,” he tosses you a toothy grin.

The second his underwear slinks down his lengthy legs you immediately shoot your eyes up to the ceiling. As if you have never seen this man naked before and that you owe him the decency of privacy. Or maybe, you are just too terribly nervous with how fast paced and nonchalant the situation turned into.

“We?” You repeat with a higher tone than anticipated.

He chuckles softly, combing his fingers through his hair to push back those curly strands before looking at you. He hums in approval as he steps in front of you, hands coming to touch along your arms. You smell a whiff of his woodsy aroma, a scent you can never pinpoint, but it is the only smell you associate this vampire with.

Unique to him and him alone.

There’s amusement on his face as he looks over you, pulling your body closer to his until you’re pressed against his front.

“Is someone worked up?” He quizzes you as one hand comes down to clasp the hem of the massively oversized shirt you’re wearing. “I can hear your heart racing. I bet you can hear it too.”

He’s swift at pulling the towels away from your arms, and even quicker with pulling up the material of your shirt even when you protest a second too late. It is up and over your head before you realize it, clasping your arms across your chest and immediately burying yourself into his frame to hide any inch of yourself that you can.

“Tae!” You screech. All your muscles yell back at you with all of the sudden movements your body makes. “Wait, no. Please!”

He places his large hand on the side of your head, tilting your face to look at his. The other palm soothes over your back and down your spine, pressing you softly into him as the two of you stand there completely bare.

“There, there, kitten. You’re safe with me,” he grins as he turns your head, hooking his thumb under your jaw. His eyes trail over the marks on your body, humming to himself every time he spots a discoloration to your skin. “Let’s get you cleaned up. You have been out for a while and I haven’t been able to properly wash you.”

Lightly, he places a kiss on your temple.

“What do you mean I’ve ‘been out for a while’?”

You watch through the corner of your eyes at the way his free hand opens the glass door and reaches in to twist the nozzle. Water comes rushing out of the top of the area, replicating a waterfall from a cluster of rocks. Matching tiling from the floor compliments the earthy coloring of the walls. A few eucalyptus plants hang from one small section right above a built-in slab that serves as a seat or placement for shower products.

“You’ve been asleep for about a day and a half,” he admits.

Taehyung inhales deeply against your hairline, placing one last peck to your head before moving the two of you into this extravagant shower. Surprisingly, the water didn’t need time to warm up – instantly being the perfect temperature to heat up your cold body. He allows you to step under first, letting you rinse off. The more your body intakes the new found warmth the more it loosens up your muscles.

“Really?” You chirp back with astonishment, voice cracking angrily at the force. “Wait, it’s Sunday now?”

Before you can step away, Taehyung holds you in place with his hands. He joins you under the falling water, dipping his face under the rushing liquid before whipping it away.

“Really.”

“Where are all my things? I’m not supposed to be here. I had plans for… Oh, he’s going to ki –”

Taehyung hushes you, using his hands to knead into your arms and up to your shoulders. “Don’t worry. All of your belongings are with me. I took care of your absence by replying to your friend and letting them know you weren’t feeling well. Besides,” he grins when your body twists in pain from the massage he is giving you, “I did a number on you and I told you I’m going to take care of you.”

His hands are like corrupting black magic, wielding you like a puppet. You’re not sure what to blame between the ache in your muscles or tiredness you continue to feel, but the sorcery of twists and turns his fingertips do to you makes you thaw completely into his palms. Making you forget how important your plans are and falling head over heels for the tall vampire before you.

You’ll deal with the consequences of your failed plans later.

“Where does it hurt?” He speaks softly as he tests out areas of your back and neck.

You respond in the same tone, fluttering your eyes whenever he flicks over a taut muscle, “Everywhere.”

He pulls you forward along with him, taking the opportunity to sit himself down on the stone slab and you sideways on his lap. Taehyung is faster than you, as usual; his quick movements allow him to snatch a loofah and bar of soap all while pressing a button on the side of the wall. It changes the location and direction of waterflow. He grips a metal faucet that hooks off from the wall, twisting it from its hinge and dragging the spray of water to aim across you.

Taehyung analyzes each bite wound on your body as the spongy loofa glides over them. If it were any other time, you’d begin to feel a nervous tension between the oddly domesticated silence the two of you share – but for now you bask in the attention. Savoring every small caring detail he gives you.

“Is this your home?” You question as your eyes are trained to the tiles below.

“One of many,” he responds.

“It’s nice…” you trail off.

You feel shy with the way his lengthy fingers flutter over your skin with the soap, washing away the surface scuffs and leaving suds in its path. He hums a ‘thank you’, chuckling at the way he places his face closer to yours on purpose to make you show your bashful side.

He notices how you still hover your midriff, already given up on hiding your breasts by placing your arms and hands strategically over areas of your body you’re not ready to expose just yet. Taehyung gives you your space, even though he’s infiltrated the majority of it.

“I’ve arranged for one of my servants to gather you some basic necessities, but within the month you’ll be brought out to shop for whatever you’d like. I’d advise you to rest well until you fully recover, take your time adjusting.”

“You… you didn’t need to do that for me,” you twist your head to finally look at him.

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the way Taehyung looks, regardless of what setting or lighting he’s portrayed in. He always has been nothing but beautiful, drop dead gorgeous. But right now, he stares back at you with sincere eyes, wet curly locks that twist every which way, and beads of water trailing down the sides of his face. For a second, you completely forget about the conversation. Admiring only him and the glow of his perfectly sculpted features.

“What do you mean by ‘adjusting’?”

Slowly, your body starts leaning closer to the vampire. Your eyes are set on his parted lips, pretty and round. He allows you to inch closer, seeing how blindly you wish to kiss him.

“Your life,” his voice drops an octave. Even his Adam’s apple bobs with the way he speaks. He’s nothing but serious, eyes scanning down your face to your neck and collarbones. “You’re mine now. Your current life needs to change to be with me,” he grins.

“I… What? Tae, I can’t just do something so drastic like that,” you scrunch your eyebrows together. “I have so much going on, you don’t have a single clue.”

“But I do,” he hushes you with a kiss. It catches you off guard with how warm his lips feel against yours. “I’ve known about you for a while now, kitten. Your records at Black Ravens only told me so much. I had to do some studying.” Taehyung’s hand sneaks up to the back of your neck, lightly tugging on your skull to tilt your head back. He takes the handheld showerhead to wash over your hair, damping it in preparation for shampoo and conditioner. “You’ll adjust well, I believe. I have everything you could ever need.”

“Tae…”

“I care for you, Y/n. I really do,” he soothes over his words with the trickling water. “I’m sorry for taking you in on such short notice, but I would have never left you bleeding out on a Black Raven’s bed. I want you to know I had nothing but true and good intentions while I took you back to the comfort of my home. I apologize if this makes you uncomfortable in any way,” he speaks with sincerity and kindness. Taehyung’s voice remains soft as if he’s speaking to a worried child. “Please know that I wanted nothing more than to keep you safe.”

Taehyung doesn’t allow you to process much further because he twists you in your place, making you face forward and away from him. He lathers up your hair delicately as you remain quiet; you try processing what all has been said to you as he rinses and repeats the action with his shower products.

There’s something in the back of your mind that concerns you, sends you a word of caution the more you ponder over everything you have going on with your life. Family, friends, working towards your career, classes, and beautiful memories. Did you really just wish yourself away from all of those by accepting Taehyung?

As if he can read the stress levels radiating off of your body, Taehyung speaks up. “We can talk more about it later,” he soothes, petting your head. “Relax with me. Tell me, are you in any pain from these?” He references the array of bite marks as his finger lightly trails across them.

You shake your head no, not worried about the small blemishes compared to how fatigue your body feels. It’s not the first time you have had multiple wounds like this on your body.

“I’m okay. Just tired,” your eyes flicker down to your lap. The mark between your thighs still emits a dull pain. “Well, there’s this one.”

You feel Taehyung’s chin rest on your shoulder, peering down from behind you to see where your fingers point to. They lightly prod at the nasty scab that sticks out, softened by the water of the shower.

“Would you let me fix it for you?”

You’re confused with what he’s asking you, questioning him with how on earth he plans to fix your wound. He snakes his hand over your thigh, prying it apart from the other to view the full blemish. Briskly, he removes the crusts that cover the openings and rips open a faint batch of blood. You flinch with the action, seething between your teeth.

“It’ll be fine. You won’t feel a thing in a few seconds,” he laughs.

Taehyung then pricks his thumb on one of his fangs, drawing his own scarlet blood. It drips lazily down his finger as you watch him with awe. He places it over the bite mark, and like a miracle, you watch before your eyes how the small puncture wounds on your leg seal together in seconds.

“What the – How? Where did it go?”

Your hand scoots past Taehyung’s to press into the soft flesh of your thigh. The mark disappeared completely before your eyes. Even the litter of marks around the area tend to fade with each passing second.

“Give it a little bit and your body will be healed up. It was only a little bit, but it will still do its job.”

“Tae,” you begin with a shake of your head. “Tae, where did the bite mark go?”

He sighs as he cages his arms around your frame, hugging you from behind.

“A vampire’s blood gives us various abilities… and is our life essence. Healing is one of many things it can do for a human.”

“Can it save people too?”

Taehyung’s fingers find yours before interlocking them together. He allows the water to cascade down on the two of you, holding another in an embrace of comfort.

“Depends on your definition of saving. It’s not a known existence to the world. Many people are unaware of the abilities of a vampire’s blood and we try to keep it that way for several reasons,” he licks his lips between words, “How are you feeling?”

You breathe as you absentmindedly take in the information while staring at the steam collected on the shower’s door. Yes, your muscles seem to have untensed faster than you think they would have without this magic blood. But you remain skeptical about it.

“I’m alright,” you state.

Taehyung makes a disgruntled noise beside you as his thumbs run circles on the tops of your hands. You’re unaware of the shift in his mood but you soon discover his eyes roaming back to a few marks in the junction of your neck.

“I’m afraid to give you more,” he huffs. His lips come dangerously close to your outer ear as he continues to talk to you. “Too much vampire blood and it can cause several different effects. Even a small dose can heighten your senses,” he smirks as goosebumps grow on your skin, “increase ones strength,” he whispers as he squeezes you tighter in his hold, “and can even make sexual experience a lot more… intense.”

You swallow hard at his words. Each delectable syllable tingles your eardrums. The way his hands slide over your skin heats you up even further without doing much at all. Your body feels good, very good, with what tiny bit of blood was given to you. Denying its influence to your body is a foolish thing to think about.

Taehyung finds amusement as he watches you battle with whichever thoughts flood your mind. You feel as if you’re in a cloud of nothingness – or is that just the visible steam fogging up around you to blame? Each bead of water heightens those sensations radiating in your body. Your heart beats faster with each ticking moment.

“I do warn you, each person gets affected differently. It also depends on the dosage. Many humans take it as a drug to see hallucinations and to feel something, to feel more. It’s powerful, but it eventually dies down. Becomes addictive. Even taken in a large dose… the human can metaphysically or spiritually bond with the vampire they drink from. The vampire community has kept the healing properties a secret so it wouldn’t encourage humans to hunt vampires for their blood.”

Turning your head, you’re met with a pair of beautifully crafted hazel eyes. They stare deep into yours, catching your gaze and begging for you to not break it. Penetrating you in your spot. When Taehyung hears no response from you, he pushes the topic further while his eyes trail down to your lips.

“I can trust you, can’t I?”

You part your lips to speak, though nothing comes out. You’re nearly mesmerized by how Taehyung looks. A deep cardinal desire picks at your brain as your eyes can over his features, admiring the beauty before you. You feel sweltering hot as if your skin is threatening to melt off your bones.

Blinking hazily at his face, your hand comes up to cup his cheek. You can’t describe exactly what you are feeling; it’s like you are drunk and high at the same time but with no negative effects. Your mouth runs dry, parched from how thirsty you’ve become in the matter of minutes.

“Y/n?” Taehyung’s smooth baritone voice flutters your heart as he speaks your name.

“I won’t tell anyone,” you mutter under your breath.

Your fingers press firmly to pull his head closer to yours. Lips seeking him with no questions asked, planting them securely against his. There’s an eagerness scratching in the back of your head. You fight to twist your body on his lap, grounded by the two strong palms now resting on either side of your hips.

“Are you aroused, my little kitten?”

His mouth hovers yours, mere centimeters away. The accusation stirs you, how guilty you suddenly feel. You want nothing more than to tangle your tongue with his at this very moment. Your breath shudders when you inhale; it feels as if you were catching your breath after running a marathon.

You don’t need to answer Taehyung, your actions speak louder than any word that can come out of your groggy throat. Fluttering your eyes shut, you pull him to reconnect his lips to yours. Your tongue stretches into his mouth, licking past his teeth and meeting his with a warm greeting.

He hums a small laugh, his smirk unable to hide his high spirits.

“Kitten, I don’t want to use this against you. I was only trying to heal you up. Plus, aren’t you exhausted…” Taehyung takes a hand and travels it toward the apex of your thighs, “Down here?”

His thumb toys with the idea of running it along the bend of your thigh, edging it closer towards your crotch. The sensation feels otherworldly, magical. Heighted to a new extreme as the water trickling down above you feels like you’re under a waterfall.

Each physical sensation blesses your nerve endings, making them vibrate with mirth throughout your skin. A strangled moan escapes your mouth when you allow a curse to fall out of your lips.

“Fuck,” you breathe. Your chest rises and falls with desperation. “Fuck, don’t…”

Taehyung hums, his face pressing against yours and he nudges your head to lean back against his shoulder.

“Don’t what?” He whispers, halting his actions. “I won’t touch you –”

“Don’t stop,” you seethe through your teeth.

He witnesses the way your nipples stand erect. How the twitch of your legs help open them wider as if you’re welcoming his hand to slide further. Your heart pounds with every waking moment, beating hard on the inside of your ribcage as your body sends itself into a state of bliss. You can imagine yourself in a rainforest, hearing tropical birds chirping as the smells of fresh mulch and soil fill your nostrils. Sun rays beaming down bright against your skin as you lounge yourself atop a lily pad floating on a pond. Bold, vibrant colors paint the world around you, and the only thing pulling you back to reality is the man splitting your legs wider with his feet as he leans you back against his chest.

“What are you seeing?” He questions calmly, unable to read the blown out pupils of your eyes.

Taehyung uses one hand to grip your chin softly, tilting your head to look up at him. With the vampiric blood dancing in your system, his features look even more amplified. More gorgeous – and you’re unsure exactly how. Taehyung glows like how you imagine an angel might, ethereal and stunning. His eyes twinkle like a thousand little suns having a fiesta together.

“You,” you admit. “I only see you.”

Taehyung keeps his focus on you, wanting to give you the ultimate pleasure you deserve. He’s sure to keep slow and not push the limits; he is aware of the draw-backs of what happens with a human on vampire blood. He wants to show you how he intends on keeping his promise of taking care of you to all ends, even when he is ignoring his own hard-on pressing against your backside. Maybe one day he’ll experiment sex with his blood in your system, if you so wish it, but for now – he knows you only need the bare minimum of happiness.

Seeing as you can have everything and anything you want right now.

Taehyung’s hand drops down to collect your breast in his palm. He doesn’t even need to toy with it much at all before having you gasp out loud from the sensation. Your nipples remain painfully erect, calling to Taehyung to stroke over them one by one just to turn up your pleasure some more.

You groan with excitement and feel your body quake with shivers running down your spine. Your hands rush to grab at him, moaning out a plea for him to continue his actions.

“Touch me, please.”

He shushes you as his other hand reaches for the detachable showerhead. From underneath you, his feet hook around your ankles to spread your legs wider. The heat of the shower touches your exposed pussy, revealing the dampened mess between your folds. It doesn’t last long there, not with how Taehyung runs the showerhead over your body. Teasing your skin all over before centering it above your cunt.

The blasts of water jetting out of each rubber hole presses against your lower lips and clit. A constant pressure applied right to the place you needed it the most. Your grip tightens as you inhale a whine, swallowing harshly as your body undergoes the sudden and shocking impact. You shake in Taehyung’s hold while reaching down between your legs to grip his wrist. His strength holds you back as his other palm latches over your mouth, muffling your beautiful whines and keeping you pressed against his body.

He rubs the showerhead over you slowly at a deliciously dangerous pace. Taehyung’s lips kiss against the side of your neck while you strangle a moan that fails to escape.

“That’s it…” he coos. “Accept it. Let your body fall into it.”

You screw your eyes tight as the words laced into your ears hit you. Beckoning your orgasm to release instantaneously and rolling over you like a bulldozer. Taehyung supports your body no matter which way you convulse; he’ll make sure you ride it out with no worries.

The hand placed over your mouth catches all your weeps and sobs, muting you from the world. Your nails pierce into Taehyung’s wrist as you anchor yourself, holding onto him for dear life. It’s as if the waterfall you once were under sweeps you off your feet and drifts you out and over the rocky slopes of a river and into a bottomless pit of an ocean. Where those raging rapids of your orgasm begin to calm down and smooth out into slow luscious waves. Sailing you out into the void on the surface of the water.

“Kitten?”

You hear Taehyung’s voice echo in your head. It sounds beautiful and serene, his voice coaxing over your senses as if it’s the only thing able to ground you.

Your chest heaves as you catch your breath through the thick steam of the shower. Collapsing your head back against Taehyung’s shoulder, you relish in the pure bliss of everything around you. His hand slips from your mouth to guide your jaw towards him as he simultaneously removes the showerhead from between your legs and back to the hook nearby. A soft, yet playful smile, dresses his beautiful lips. Even his eyes flash delight and mirth.

“You’re so sexy when you enjoy yourself,” he comments.

Delicately, his lips press onto yours once again. His mouth feels possessive, like he’s ready to eat you entirely. Meanwhile, his hands cage around you, pressing into your skin and holding you flush against his front.

The compliment floods you with a wave of embarrassment. Vulnerable and under the penetrating gaze of a vampire who can literally do whatever he wants with you at any given moment.

“T-Thanks…” you hush your words against his plump lips.

“Anytime,” Taehyung smiles.

He allows you a moment's rest just to relax with him; he completely ignores his strong hard-on pinched between your two bodies. A malicious and violent being – from what you’ve grown to know – makes you skeptical on how such a tender and soft man Taehyung truly can be. Even when he has only displayed his dominating sides… seeing something like this throws your head into a spin of confusion.

It surprises you.

But you don’t question any of his actions. Taehyung shows no real threat, not now… now when you’re dripping wet and naked on top of him, shaking from a mouthwatering orgasm that took less than a minute to achieve under a new influence.

On top of that, you only had the smallest amount of his blood in your system. You can’t even imagine how more would affect you.

“Let’s finish cleaning the rest of you off,” he addresses as he grabs a conditioner bottle. “I’m sure by now my servant has fixed you with some food and something to wear.”

Taehyung takes his time with you, holding you close every step of the way. He caters to you as if you are a broken doll. Careful to not break you further, but graceful enough to make you feel his compassion with every tender touch.

He whips you away with his spoiling behavior. Washes you from head to toe; peppering affectionate kisses across your skin.

Perhaps this is his way of apologizing.

When the two of you finally exit the bathroom, disregarding the trail of wet feet marks that follow you out the door, you’re welcomed with newly found clothes on a properly made bed. A small tray of juice and small food sits on a small desk. You stroll towards the mattress, happy to not feel your body aching with every movement. You plop down on the side of the bed as your eyes scan the laid out clothing, still wrapped up in your towel.

Taehyung moves steadily over to his closet. His robe hugs around his frame as his arms search aimlessly through his drawers and hung up clothing. You can see him shuffling through fabric after fabric, analyzing and processing which colors to coordinate with another.

“I’m afraid I have some business to attend to tonight,” he drones out. He sounds less than enthused about whatever it is he has to do. “I’ll be back before dawn. Feel free to wander the house. I’ll entrust you with Jin.”

You blink over at him, giving Taehyung a puzzled face when he catches your wandering gaze.

“Wait, what? Hold on, I have a few questions before you disappear on me.”

The tone in your voice shows how concerned you are feeling. Disorientated feels like an understatement.

Taehyung walks out of his closet with a pair of dress shoes and suit pieces hanging off of a few hangers in his hands. A camel tan jacket and matching pants paired up with a white button up long sleeve and black gucci shoes. He tosses them on the bed beside you as he hums.

“What questions do you have for me, kitten?”

He tilts his head as his eyes find yours. He raises his eyebrows with all attention on you. He stands at the foot of the bed, legs spread in a stance to make him look wider. Like he’s making a statement without having said it. Crude humor you think, especially when his long lengthy fingers begin tightening around the band holding his robe together. He toys with the idea of teasing you by pulling it out of its knot and allowing the material to lax naturally. Opening a slit that reveals his skin from chest all the way down to between his legs.

You stare at him with determination and a bit of fear. Because you’d be damned if you admired the view of his hanging appendage that he shamelessly gives opportunity for you to see.

“I… I – You’re coming back when?” You stumble over your words momentarily.

“Dawn.”

The audacity of his whole demeanor spills out confidence and carelessness all at the same time. He smirks when you finally direct your line of sight to something far away from him. It’s the only way you know how to talk with him without feeling some kind of way.

In your peripheral you can see Taehyung shrugging off the material of his robe and allowing it to drop down to the ground. He stands there naked and you’re well aware of it. You tighten your grip on your towel involuntarily as you concentrate on your speech.

“What time is it now?”

“Sometime after the sunset.”

“That’s… not helpful. Where’s my phone? All of my belongings that I had at Black Ravens. They’re not here? I also need to go back home.”

Taehyung huffs a laugh as he slips up his trousers and buttons them securely. The humor laced in his voice throws you off as you try to stay serious on the matter.

“It means it’s sometime at night,” he grins. His hands run through his hair, brushing out the damped tendrils away from his face. “Your belongings are with me. No need to worry about them right now, kitten.”

He’s dismissive. You also notice the way he ignores the last thing you said, which twists your curiosity even more.

“Tae. I need my phone,” you state.

Slowly, he rounds about the bed to your side. Taehyung steps in your line of sight and moves closer to you. He’s sliding an arm through the sleeve of his button up as he fixes his stance before you. His finger comes out to tap under your chin, beckoning you to look up to him.

Your eyes scan across the sliver of his stomach all the way up towards his sharp collar bones. His neck looks desirable, kissable. But when you meet his hooded eyes, you feel heat strike your nerves. His face shows no signs of that playful humor lingering in his voice as he stares down at you.

“I’ll tell you what. Be a good kitten for me and stay here until I get back. Then I’ll give back your phone and bring you home.”

You hesitate to respond to him. The scowl that covers your face shows your displeasure and frustration. The split second you go to twist your head out of Taehyung’s finger, he grips your jaw.

Taehyung levels himself with you, bending down to look you straight into your eyes. His eyes look hazed over with some sort of clouded anger as they bore into yours.

“Y/n. I need you to stay here for me,” his voice drops to a stern ring. It shakes you all the way to the core. “Do you understand?”

You shake your head slowly as you accept his request. There are no words that can describe the things Taehyung’s presence does to you, let alone his words alone. The way it always feels like he has a claim over you. The way he can boss and control you with just a simple snap of his finger if he demands it.

A creeping smirk grows on Taehyung’s pleased face. The importance of subordination and lack of patience is something you note in the back of your head.

“Good girl,” he praises. Taehyung leans in more to place one last kiss to your lips, humming satisfaction as he gets his way. “Now, behave,” he warns as he removes himself from you.

“Why don’t you go choose a necklace for me from one of the valet boxes I have in the closet,” he insists as he sits himself down to focus on slipping into his shoes.

You remain propped right in your spot on his bed as you clutch the cloth of the towel surrounding you. Watching the back of Taehyung’s head, you find yourself frozen in place from wanting to move.

“Who’s Jin?”

Visibly, you can see the way Taehyung’s shoulders shrug as if he’s letting out a sigh. He shakes his head to himself as he finishes putting on the last piece of his clothing – his jacket – and adjusts the cufflinks.

“My eldest brother.”

After Taehyung leaves you alone in his bedroom, you sit for a while before wanting to actually make yourself presentable. You feel sluggish, whether it be from tiredness or the lazy state your body settles in after having that mind-blowing orgasm from a showerhead. Of course, you take your time moving around his room. You even take a few more bathroom visits to finalize your look with whatever toiletries you manage to find.

You grow bored of the bedroom surroundings just how you grow bored of the lack of social interaction. Placed in an area that you are completely unknown to, the only person you’ve managed to see is Taehyung. Even when he claims there is a servant on-hand, they’ve yet to come back to the room at all. Leaving you curious about what lies outside of the bedroom door… and hungry with the need for food.

The door opens gracefully, it doesn’t even creak at the hinges when it swings. You’re met with an empty hall, only simplistic flower paintings hang in an orderly fashion along the length of the wall. You take a look up and down the expanse, seeing as you’re smackdab right in the middle of the hall.

From the right, it looks to be a dead end. A lonely black counter sits at the far end wall with one singular clear vase set in the middle and a mirror secured to the wall. To your left, there’s an opening far beyond you can see.

Your feet step haphazardly as you trail down the wooden flooring. It smells like any other normal house would, just with a hint of cleaning solution lingering in the air. Nothing seems out of place, everything perfectly set in alignment. Not even a speck of dust flies in the air throughout the illumination of the bright lights above.

Eventually, you creep further into the house. You find yourself walking into an empty entranceway, the front door completely black in color with a golden handle. All the windows are boarded up, seal tight. The reminder of Taehyung’s request echoes in your mind, telling you not to leave.

That he needs you here.

You stare at the door for longer than you admit, mind racing with interest. But you're drawn to a muffle noise that resounds in the air. It snaps your attention to another direction. As if the house itself is your usher, the walls guide you away from the front door and down the next corridor.

Emerging around a corner, you instantly see a countertop with a display of utensils laid out. The closer you step, the more of the kitchen is presented to your eyes. An island sink and stove, refrigerator, and at least two tall cabinets that are presumably filled with food.

Your mouth begins to water with the ideas of something fresh, something delicious. Maybe a set of snacks are waiting for you just inside those doors.

However, you still aren’t forgetting the strange noises you hear that continue to grow as you step into the kitchen.

You come faced with a window in the wall above a section in the kitchen. It peaks into some sort of gathering area, like a living room you guess. But what you see isn’t anything you expect.

The muffled noises are from people. They are in front of a fireplace, lit to a bright flame, yet they’re either half or completely naked. A woman is on her knees right before a male standing tall. His hands are mangled within her auburn locks, guiding her head vigorously into his pelvis. The noises you heard, are nonother than two people fucking – face-fucking. Their moans and aggressive groans amplify the longer you stare.

His backside mainly faces you; you can barely make the features of these two strangers. His sharp calves flex through his tight jeans as he balances himself, so does his marvelous thighs. The elastic band around his thin waist hangs enough to expose his member, plunging deep into the willing woman’s mouth.

But the scene itself makes you fumble over your footing as you back away. You accidentally slap your arm against the countertop as you try to anchor yourself from falling over, knocking into the array of utensils and causing a ruckus.

It surely gains the male’s attention as you watch his head look over his shoulder abruptly. Dark locks hang over his ruby red eyes as a piercing gaze penetrates you where you feebly stand. Blood smears across his parted mouth, sharp teeth bearing themselves to you.

Like a deer caught in headlights, your eyes look back at him. Widened and scared.

His hips continue to roll into the woman’s face while his hands keep guiding the head of the woman onto his cock. You can’t see it, but you can surely hear the way the woman gags around something several times. It’s rough, you can tell with the type of savagery the male puts into his thrusts. But she sucks it in like she's drunk on lust; bite marks littering her flesh.

“I-I, uh –” you stutter as you hoist yourself up into a normal stance. Your hands scurry across the countertop to gather the utensils in a haste as the leering gaze of the male glares at you.

“I am so sorry!” you blurt out.

The second you look down, you feel a gust of wind beside you. To your right, a bare chest enters your peripheral view. A masculine hand slaps itself down on top of yours, pinning you to the countertop. Even with a quick yank, you cannot move a single centimeter away from the weighting pressure on top of your hand.

You scream out a yelp of pain before your eyes snap to the man who leans in beside you. Bright scarlet eyes stare at you like a dagger ready to pierce skin. Blood dribbles down his chin and drops to his smooth chest as he smiles a devilish smile down at you. He doesn’t even have the decency to cover up his hardened cock, it stands out of his pant’s zipper as they lay low on his dainty waist. You’re embarrassed to even take in the sight of the sculpted abdomen of the male, let alone the proud dickhead pointing right at you.

Quickly, he makes his way around your frame to corner you against the island countertop. Both his arms cage you in, barricading your body against two hard places.

Fear strikes all your nerves, quickening your heart rate and causing a panic.

“J-Jin?”

The name comes out shaky, just like how your limbs begin to do. You quiver between the male and the countertop. He leans in, grinning to himself as his eyes scan up and down your body. He presses himself closer, even brushing his hardened dick against your front.

“I can be Jin if you want me to, baby,” his voice comes out deadly and smooth. It curls your insides, sends red alert noises in your brain.

Instantly, it tells you that his identity must not be Taehyung's eldest brother. Now, you’re concerned with who exactly this other vampire is.

Taehyung never mentioned someone else.

“Stop!”

You try to squirm out of the male’s hold. You’re being violated in so many ways by this unwanted presence. Even the fist you form with your free hand does nothing to the side of the male’s face. It only creates a loud smacking sound as your knuckles contact his jaw.

The man tilts his head back to level it with yours. Any sign of amusement he has completely vanishes. His nose scrunches as he inhales deeply.

“You’re going to regret –”

“– Jungkook!”

A voice cracks through the intense male before you. His gaze fades out momentarily as he listens to the call of his name. His shoulders rise with irritation and aggression.

Another male’s hand comes to grab Jungkook’s forearm before ripping it away from surrounding you. He easily pushes the attacker off, giving a few feet space between the two of you.

“Don’t,” the newest male warns as he stares back at the other.

The male’s back is away from you, but you can tell he’s taller in stance. He, too, has dark hair – at least it looks styled. His body is lathered in a light blue silk shirt that’s tucked into black dress pants and a thin belt. He radiates authority with the way he stands.

“Jungkook,” he warns as he senses the vampire getting agitated. “I command you to not lay a single finger on her. You’re not allowed to harm her in any way.”

They exchange a heated stare with another. However, to your surprise, you notice Jungkook standing straighter. Submission. A cocky, yet pissed off look, suits his face as he uses the opportunity to tuck himself back inside his pants and zip his zipper.

His eyes glance over to you, frozen and unable to move from your spot, while he expresses his annoyance towards you.

“With all those little noises I heard earlier, I expected you to be another whore.”

The male in the blue shirt swiftly and fluidly backhands Jungkook in a blink of an eye. The power alone splits Jungkook’s cheek open, blood spraying out with the movement of Jungkook’s head.

You stare in shock, tears brimming in your eyes. Slowly, you are able to edge your body away from the counter and back the way you come. But you’re halted in your tracks by the male in the blue shirt.

“Stay, Y/n,” he calls out.

It’s the first time he faces you, turning in his spot as he adjusts the sleeve of his shirt. You’re met with another gorgeous looking male, almost too serene. You can peg Taehyung for ethereal, but this man seems to outstand any words you can form.

He looks at you with serious and determined eyes. They’re a delicious brown pecan color, kind to look at.

“I’m Jin,” he begins to explain as he looks back at Jungkook. “I apologize for the rudeness from my progeny. He is still a child. I assure you, he won’t bother you again.”

You look back at Jin worriedly. Afraid to look over at the blood-covered Jungkook and afraid to go against Jin’s request.

“Jungkook,” the elder male cocks his head to the side. “Go clean up your mess in the living room. Clean yourself up while you’re at it. She’s our company.”

As Jungkook goes to turn on his heel without a second thought, Jin speaks to him again.

“But first,” his tone lingers in the air above everyone’s heads, “Apologize to Y/n. After all, she isn’t a whore like you assumed.”

You can tell the resistance on Jungkook’s face when he turns back. Those scarlet eyes that once penetrated your soul dwell down to a sterling gray color. They’re clouded with uncertainty and anger, but if you look past all his chiseled nakedness and gruesome bloodstains across his body he doesn’t look quite as scary.

Very handsome matter of fact; yet his actions alone already painted him in such a dull light that you’re completely comfortable not exploring any more details about him.

Jungkook stares at you through the corner of his eye, fueled with displeasure as he’s forced to obey Jin.

“Sorry.”

The apology comes out dry, you’re aware it’s definitely not sincere. You say nothing in response. But from the smug grin Jin has on his face, you can tell he’s enjoying the control.

“Now, carry on,” Jin waves with his hand. He takes a step towards you as he continues to talk to Jungkook. “The one in the living room leaves the house alive, Jungkook,” he reminds. “We don’t want any mistakes like last time.”

You watch as Jungkook disappears from the kitchen and returns to the auburn haired woman who has collapsed on the floor. If you look through the opened wall window you will be able to see the way Jungkook lazily picks up the fallen woman.

Jin steps around the kitchen to look throughout some of the cabinets and shelving units. He hums to himself while he searches.

“I admit, you had me thinking you’d stay cooped up in that room all night for a second there. You must be hungry, hm? I’m sure we have something in here for you.”

He peaks over at you, who is still lingering in the same stunned spot, and gives you a pained expression.

“You can come closer. It may be hard, with what you just witnessed, but try to get comfortable. I’m not going to do anything to you.”

You swallow thickly while your eyes flicker over from Jungkook to Jin. You’re uncertain, as you should be, but the moments you just endured still feels very much real for you. It shakes your core.

“What about him?” You nod towards Jungkook’s direction.

There’s a small pleased grin that creeps up on Jungkook’s face at your question while he hoists the woman up and over his shoulder. She mumbles words you cannot understand, whether it be another language or a very thick accent. But Jungkook never looks back to you, his mind is on other things now.

“He won’t hurt you,” Jin exhales. He gathers together some eggs from inside the fridge and a few pieces of meat. “I’ve commanded him. So even if he wanted to, he’s bound to listen to my order.”

You take a step in to lean against the nearest wall. Though you see Jin wave you on towards a stool sitting across from where he settled to cook at. Slowly, you tip-toe over to where Jin’s pointed look guides you.

“Because you ‘commanded’ him?”

Jin works around the built-in electric stove with a few pans on the heated plates. He cracks open an egg, then two.

“I am his maker. I have that ability over him,” he says. “Jungkook is still a newborn. Doesn’t have much control over everything just yet. Incredible strength… insufferable lack of tolerance to the rules of the world though. It’s a bit of a challenge but he has much more training to do.”

“What do you mean you’re his maker?”

The eggs sizzle in the pan as Jin continues to add random pieces of food to it. Some form of omelet from the looks of it. It already smells appetizing and it’s not even fully cooked yet.

“I turned him into a vampire,” he says nonchalantly.

Jin softly smiles as he flips over the egg to fry the other side. He gathers you a glass of water, but tells you that there are options of juice in the refrigerator. The cup clinks down on the countertop right next to a plate Jin grabs.

“There’s forks in the drawer beside you,” Jin voices. “Now tell me how our little Taehyung came to find you.”

The neatly made omelet slides out of the pan and onto your plate before you. Jin hands over salt and pepper shakers as well as a napkin for you. After he turns off the stove and briefly cleans up the area he works at, he rests back on the opposite counter with crossed arms. He waits for you to happily take your food while waiting for your response.

You feel your stomach twist in eagerness, starving to taste the deliciously made food. With your fork, you cut into the omelet before stabbing the first piece and placing the appetizing egg into your mouth.

“Black Ravens,” you state in between bites.

“Ah –,” Jin smiles. “Interesting.”

Jin watches you, analyzes you. His haunting beauty would normally make you nervous, kind of like how it is when you first got to learn about Taehyung. You can’t place your finger on it, but somehow you feel the needed trust your mind wants to be reassured you are in good hands.

“How long?”

You stop chewing your food as you look at Jin. A puzzled look begins to carve itself on your face.

“How long have you worked at Black Ravens?” He clarifies.

You’re nearly done with your plate of food by now. Even the glass of water beside you sits half empty as you straighten your posture in the seat you sit at.

“A few months…” you ponder more to yourself as you recollect the memories.

“Resorting to a job like that… my curiosity is getting the better of me,” Jin hums again. Suddenly, you see a flash of something black run across the floor before it hops up on the counter beside Jin. He smiles warmly, petting the frisky feline that stares back with its round eyes. “Did you join Black Ravens for money or pleasure? Or perhaps… it turned into a bit of both?”

You don’t answer the question, seeing as Jin gives you a knowing look as he looks you up and down. He already knows. The question is deemed rhetorical. You shouldn’t be here if it is strictly for money… Now would you?

“Is that your cat?”

“Her name is Stella,” Jin affirms as he gives the feline soft scratches under her chin. “I’m sure she kept you company while you were asleep, she enjoys Taehyung’s room for whatever reason.”

You nod briefly, smiling to yourself. Stella had kept you accompanied more than just at your bedside. But she is friendly in the end.

“She did,” you admit. You admire the stark black shorthair who purrs into Jin’s palm. Thoroughly enjoying the pets and love he shows her.

Gracefully, Stella hops from counter to counter. Jumping towards you as she sniffs the air. She inspects the residue on your plate as she steps closer to you. Leisurely, Stella makes her own room on the island by laying down just in front of you. Her tale wags with sass as she stares back at Jin across the kitchen.

You lightly pet her from head to tail. Making sure not to offend her with any temping tummy rubs.

Jin grins from ear to ear as he reads the house cat language. He’s entertained with the attitude, it gives Stella characterization.

“She enjoys you,” he comments. “Lucky for you.”

“Maybe it’s because I work with animals…” you trail off.

“Do you now?”

“I work in a vet’s office. Started as a receptionist then wanted to become a veterinary technician. Now I want to be a veterinarian.”

“So a stable job and you still work at Black Ravens?”

“I needed the money. College funds here aren’t cheap… and I'm barely getting by with my position at the vet's office. Not with the cost of living and bills to pay.”

Jin nods agreeably.

“So he agreed to pay for you. In return for…?”

“Who? Taehyung? No. It’s not like that,” you furrow your brows.

“You came here with several bite marks on you. I’m surprised to see they’re all gone,” Jin comments on your appearance. “You must mean something for Taehyung to willingly shed blood.”

You’re all washed up and clothed. You can’t imagine the state of your body after collapsing in the Black Raven’s feeding room, but you’re sure it wasn’t a pretty sight. With Jin’s perception, you assume that maybe he was the other person in the room when you were barely awake in Taehyung’s bed.

“I don’t know what he wants with me,” you state. “I barely know him. He is just a regular at Black Ravens. Last night…last night was the first time he really opened up. And it wasn’t much. I knew he was an expensive client, but I didn’t know he was the owner.”

“The coven owns Black Ravens. Not just him. It’s in fact under my name,” Jin smiles. He scoffs as he finally takes your used dishware and places it in the sink. He runs the faucet water and adds a dab of soap before shutting the water off. “This kid… he’s something else. I’m sorry if Taehyung did anything unpleasant towards you.”

“I don’t think anything was necessarily unpleasant. I think he brought me back here because of the other vampire. He was more… more determined with his –”

“– There’s another?”

Jin’s hands rest on the edges of the countertop as he leans in towards you. His interest spikes and you can see it on his face.

You sigh to yourself as you continue to pet Stella, “Yeah. His name is Jimin? Taehyung interrupted the feeding.”

“Ah,” Jin laughs. His eyebrows raise to his hairline as the man chuckles lightly. “Oh, Jimin. Well I can understand why Taehyung brought you here now. Those two seem to always be at it.”

“I could tell Taehyung wasn’t happy with him,” you half-laugh with him.

“He’s never happy with him,” Jin exaggerates. Though with the glint in his eye, you feel like he's telling you he’s serious.

“Can I ask why?”

There’s a moment of silence that passes between you and Jin. The only noise you hear is the constant purring of Stella as she lounges her lengthy body across the counter space. You see the way Jin’s eyes narrow ever so slightly, giving you the hint to not press anymore on the topic.

“When you feel comfortable, I’d advise you to ask Taehyung himself. It’s not my business to spread,” Jin quickly looks down at the watch on his wrist to gauge the time. “He should return sometime in the next two hours, before daybreak.”

Jin walks himself around the island you sit at, his palm facing up toward you to take. He steps beside you with a duchenne smile; he nearly looks like a charmed prince giving you his blessing. Excitement is evident, and you fall for his swift persuasion.

“Now before then, let me accompany you around the mansion. I imagine you’ll be here more often than you think. I promise to steer you away from Jungkook.”

After a tour around the neo-gothic styled modern mansion from Jin, the two of you entertained each other until you settled yourself on one of the expensive couches in the family room. You listened and talked with Jin, shared some small enlightening topics but nothing too detailed. Throughout your walkthrough you managed to meet a few of the house servants, one of which delivered you some clothes to change into. You truly must be so tired, because during the midst of conversation you have dozed off; being just a mere human would explain it.

You remember rising from your slumber with a few taps to your nose. Your vision is blurred at first until it adjusts to the figure before you.

In front of you, you’re met by the toothy smile of Taehyung – bent by the knees to level his body with yours. His hazel eyes greet you with mirth as he raises his eyebrows.

“Good morning, kitten,” his deep baritone voice rings in your ears. His palm cradles the underside of your chin, thumb rubbing softly along the edge of your jaw. “Still tired?”

It warms your heart and flutters the wings of the butterflies that fly in your stomach. Seeing him instantly makes you want to leap across an ocean to hug him, but you catch yourself from doing anything.

Because you’re not sure why you’re feeling the strong desire to touch him. How his presence feels all too familiar and safe.

You blink at him, taking in the beautiful features across his ageless face. What excites you even more is how Taehyung seems completely delighted to see you once again.

“Just a little,” you admit.

It’s subtle in the way he licks his lips. He brushes his fingers past your ear to sway strands of your hair away from your neck. Taehyung senses your brief fit of worry but assures you that he is only just checking as a precaution.

“Let me get you back home,” he states coolly. Holding up your cellphone with his other hand, he dangles the near-dead device in front of your face. “I keep my promises.”

A sting of anger zaps through your body as you recall Taehyung holding your electronic hostage all this time – along with all your valuables you had carried with you to Black Ravens. With vigilance, you grip the phone from his lengthy fingers. You tap on the screen to see the battery life of the device, but you fear opening it up near him.

“Come,” he requests with a wiggle of his forefinger.

He stands up as he straightens out the wrinkles in the jacket you saw him leave in. Taehyung grabs hold of a set of keys left on a glass end table as his heels click on the floor below him. He practically drips pure gold with the weight of each stride. Lavished in the finest clothes, you appreciate the view of Taehyung walking away from you.

You make sure to apologize to Jin about falling asleep as you walk out the door after Taehyung. He doesn’t seem like he minds, even though he watches you leave with caution in his eyes.

The dark chilly early morning greets you as well as a gust of brisk wind. Small puddles cover the walkway from a fresh drizzle of rain. The sun hasn’t even peaked itself through the sky yet but it leaves a pretty view; a deep blue melting into the beginnings of a soft peach orange. A perfect crescent moon floats right above the layout of trees surrounding the thicket of woods with roaming dark clouds. A guarantee of scattered storms for the oncoming day.

You appreciate the outside of the house as you step behind Taehyung’s long strides. Abstract designs correspond and compliment another in colors of black, browns, and beiges. The windows show clean glass but continue to be boarded up for the forthcoming sunlight. Hidden in nothing but dense forest, you’re led to ponder how deep you are from the city you live in.

Taehyung ushers you over to the passenger side of a matte black Mercedes AMG GT coupe. Each window is tinted, shutting out any light. His eyes watch you as you place your foot through the door, but his hand grabs your arm before you can descend down into the seat.

“Hey,” his voice is low. Taehyung draws your attention to him, his eyes leer down through his long lashes. “Are you feeling better?”

You swallow while nodding your head. The wind wisps the loose waves of Taehyung’s black hair in front of his forehead. It exposes his eyes more, makes you fall in love with how asymmetric they are to another. One monolid and the other a double eyelid; giving his overall appearance a striking aura.

“I do,” you softly smile.

Taehyung’s eyes trail down to the curve of your lips. They linger there while silence skirts around the two of you; the only noises are of early birds chirping and the breeze running through the leaves overhead.

You can feel the intensity radiating from him. Yet, Taehyung does nothing about it. He releases his grip on your arm to let you into the car, pushing the door shut after you settle in.

Taehyung enters through the driver’s side, fitting comfortably in as his fingers begin toying with the screen on the dashboard and glowing widgets on the center console. The interior is smooth, a cool black color surrounds you entirely. He starts the engine up with a press of a button.

“What’s your address?”

He looks over to you as one arm reaches towards the steering wheel while the other hovers towards the screen of the dashboard. Taehyung tilts his head towards you, a creeping smile plays at the corners of his lips. One eyebrow quirks your way and you instantly feel captivated by him.

Taehyung’s vehicle takes you through aimless roads among more aimless roads until you find yourself nearing a familiar area. The highway takes you closer towards exit signs that welcome you. Numbers flash overhead, warning you as you approach your turnoff as you admire the view of the beautiful sky. Light rain trickles on the windshield the deeper Taehyung drives you into your residential city. It’s only one exit off from the notorious Black Ravens; roughly a 25 minute drive from place to place without traffic in the way.

The directions call out to Taehyung as the two of you sit in comfortable silence. Your head leans on the headrest as you stare out the window. Taehyung’s palm comfortably resting on your bare thigh; hardly covered by the overlength tee shirt you were dressed in.

“Can I ask how you were able to talk to my friend?” You look down at your phone clutched in your palm. You hesitate to open the device, having half a mind to think Taehyung already went through the contents. “Did he call?”

Taehyung’s features never change in the slightest while humming to a tune. Even his thumb taps lightly over the steering wheel while the vehicle cruises down the lengthy road.

“Your phone recognized your face when you were asleep which then unlocked the screen,” he says calmly. “He did not call. I only responded through text about your absence.”

You sigh while adjusting yourself in your seat. Hands fidgeting with the cellular device, but you choose not to look. Afraid to read the disappointment – if any – that may be messaged in the thread you share with your friend.

Even when you contemplate with yourself, Taehyung is attentive to you. Analyzing and watching the way your body language speaks.

“What’s got you so worried? Is the guy someone you’re involved with?”

You scrunch your eyebrows together at the thought. Immediately, you follow with a curt response – diminishing any existence of that being an idea for you.

“Not at all. He’s my best friend.”

Taehyung remains quiet, but you thank him for not entertaining the idea further. You also express your gratitude for letting your friend know you aren’t around.

Shortly, you arrive at your destination as rain begins to pour. Taehyung parks on the curb of the street in front of your apartment; his car sticking out like a sore thumb among the rest of the inexpensive cars around. It looks and feels completely out of place. But at least he has a car, unlike you who’s become accustomed to your local bus stops.

Before you can even reach your handle, Taehyung turns off the ignition and is out of the driver’s side. Stepping around the front of the car to approach your door. The weather doesn’t phase him one bit.

“Mademoiselle,” he smirks as he assists you exiting his car. He’s even kind enough to shut the door behind you and gather a bag of your belongings from the trunk of his vehicle.

You can’t help but smile to yourself from the pampering. Little do you know, this is only the beginnings of his hospitality and generosity.

Fishing out your set of keys out of a side pocket of your canvas bag, you fumble between the metals before finding the appropriate one to slide through the lock of your door. Taehyung stands ideally behind you, but his presence is very much evident. The tension back at the mansion carried all the way here, to the entrance of your home.

He stands closer in your proximity, you feel as if he’s practically breathing down your neck. But in reality, upon turning to look at him after twisting your door handle, he’s further away than you expect. Taehyung’s eyes scan the darkness of your house through the crack of your door.

“I, um…” you begin. You turn more to face Taehyung, tightening your hold on your bag.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you whisper.

Taehyung’s eyes flick over to you, those hazel irises drip so wickedly. They’re unmatched and unfair; you have never seen anything quite like them before. There’s something magical about them.

“I told you I’ll take care of you, kitten,” he half-laughs.

His deep voice shakes your core, makes you feel smaller in the spot you stand. Taehyung’s fingers grip your jaw before you can turn away from his gaze.

“No need to thank me,” his eyes stare down to your lips as you aimlessly blink at him. “What do you want next?”

Your breath hitches, “What do you mean?”

Taehyung’s tongue comes to swipe over his lips before biting back a smile. He stops himself from rolling his eyes, but instead he takes his thumb and lightly pulls down your bottom lip.

“You look at me with these desperate eyes sometimes, and whenever you do – I can’t stop myself from thinking about them. So, what do you want me to do next? Are we just going to stand here under the cold rain or are you going to invite me inside?”

He sighs when he senses the way your heart rate paces even faster. Taehyung steps closer to you, eyes narrowing through his pretty long eyelashes. You would give anything and everything for him to kiss you right then and there. Plant his delicious soft lips straight onto yours and eat you up. You’re unsure what you are to Taehyung, and it feels weird seeing him in a different setting other than Black Ravens… but it doesn’t take him much persuasion to get what he wants.

Because simply… it is the same thing you want as well. Whether you like to admit it or not.

You nod your head softly while your hand pushes your door open wider. He allows you the opportunity to walk into your apartment, giving you three steps into the hall before he clears his throat. Turning on your foot, you notice he’s still at the door frame – unable to step through.

“You need to invite me,” he raises his eyebrows.

You scrunch yours in return, unable to process why you need to say it. You thought your body language already let him know he’s accepted to come inside.

“Why?”

“It’s a weird thing with vampires. We need to be invited in when a house is privately owned by a human. And seeing as you are a tenant, you technically are signed onto a portion of this house. Making you a partial owner.”

Taehyung leans against the doorframe with his hands as he speaks with you. The gloomy darkness of the weather trickles around him, giving his aura a more sinful look. His soft curls in his hair begin to lose their volume as rain soaks up portions of his locks. But you do not miss the flash of red that beats in his eyes under the blanket of his bangs.

You should be scared; that’s what all the world tells you when it comes to vampires. A selfish, devious, and vicious creature of the night. They take what they want, live how they wish. If they really wanted to, you’re positive they could corrupt the entire planet with their virus.

But when you stare back at Taehyung with a pounding beat to your heart, your fear is nothing but full of excitement. The dread of knowing and not knowing what comes next with him electrifies you. How somehow, in some way, this nightly beast has already tainted you.

Staring back, you swallow thickly before your mouth opens up with an open invitation.

“Please come inside.”

Within a blink of an eye, Taehyung moves himself in front of you, dropping your bag of belongings with a thud. His arms envelop your body as one of his hands snake along the back of your neck. The tips of his fingers graze over your scalp softly, drawing goosebumps in their wake. Taehyung smiles to himself as he presses your body against his, ripping the breath right from your lungs with a salivary kiss.

He comes with such force that it nearly knocks you off of your feet, but Taehyung is there to hold you. His wicked tongue presses through the seam of your lips and past your teeth, tasting you as much as he can as his body backs you up deeper into your apartment. It’s small, comfortable and affordable for one living person to stay in. So it doesn’t take very long for Taehyung to figure out the placement of your bedroom the second his eyes scan over the living room that sits only a two-seat couch and entertainment center with a television propped on it. One lone entryway shows signs of counter space and a fridge whereas the single door adjacent to there remains cracked open.

Taehyung’s hands touch and grope along your body, squeezing at the necessary areas like your curves and thighs. You match the pace of his tongue with your own, devouring the taste of him as your feet stumble the more he pushes you through your living space.

“Ignore my apartment,” you meekly speak between breaths.

It’s slightly a mess and there is no way in hell you are expecting company this early in the morning.

“I’m not focusing on your apartment,” he bites – literally – as his teeth nip at your bottom lip.

Taehyung’s fingers toy with the hem of the tee shirt, raising it higher up to expose your bottom half. He places his palm along the side of your hip, nails scratching over your skin as he continues to escort you into your room.

“Tae –”

“– Mmf,” he mumbles as his lips press against the corner of your mouth.

Even in the darkness of your room, Taehyung expertly maneuvers the two of you around as if he’s been here before. Knowing the exact places to step and weave your bodies around until he’s able to support you onto your bed.

“Tae, wait!” You chirp the moment your thighs hit your mattress.

You sit down while Taehyung’s face follows, placing fluttering kisses along your jawline and pressing into the side of your neck. It sparks heat to your body, a sensitive spot you naturally go weak at. He shrugs off his jacket, tossing the expensive material to the side as if it isn’t worth anything to him.

“Let me have you,” he persuades with each tangible kiss of his lips. “I’m not making you nervous, am I?”

Your heart flutters as your mind fogs with ideas of pleasure and pain. Even in the short amount of time, you feel drunk on the idea of Taehyung bedding you once again. The idea of him being in your bed and not some rented out room feels more intimate.

More special.

“I just,” you stutter as you feel Taehyung’s teeth grind over your sensitive skin. His breath heats you up as it fans out of his mouth. “Usually, I’m more prepared for something like this.”

“Your body says otherwise,” he mocks lightly.

“No, not like that. I mean, this morning I was just so tired. I wasn’t… I didn’t pay attention,” you mumble to yourself more than to Taehyung. Creeping anxiety builds in your chest the more you ponder about your appearance.

“Kitten, are you scared about this?” Taehyung smirks against your neck when his hand forces your legs open enough to cup your pussy. His palm pressing firmly against it, the moistened arousal leaks gleefully onto him as he slowly rubs his entire hand up and down.

It’s abrasive, yet you love it. Your mouth drops open with a gasp, hands baring you upright as they shoot out to stop your body from falling backwards onto your bed. You shiver with the contact, breath hitched in your throat as warmth takes over your entire body.

“This will never bother me, kitten. Your sweet pussy will always be delicious regardless of how maintained you are here. But I am flattered with the thought of you wanting to please me,” he says truthfully.

Taehyung gathers your hands in his, linking them across another as his fingers grip your wrists tightly. He pulls out a small scarf from the pocket of his pants, placing the blue silk fabric over your skin.

“Hold still,” he speaks calmly.

He binds your wrists together, snuggly. It’s comfortable, but tight enough to keep you locked in. Unable to break free from the constraints.

Taehyung hoists your body up with him, ushering you completely to lay normally on your mattress. He eyes the small bars of your headboard with a grin plastered on his face.

He guides your hands above your head, “Hold it,” he commands.

Your hands grip a single metal bar, linking your fingers to keep hold of yourself. It feels like a usual practice between you and Taehyung. There isn’t a time you don’t remember when Taehyung hasn’t tied your limbs up before indulging himself on your body. Limiting your access to him even though he’s inches away from you. Frankly, you never thought too much into it – assuming he has a strong kink for bondage. You have no complaints because you’re guilty of experiencing some of your own while entwining your body with his.

You breathe deeply, chest rising and falling as you stare over Taehyung who kneels near the end of your bed. He edges closer to you, crawling his way up the length of your body as he drinks you in. Dim lighting and musical rain drops cascade on the windows as the air in your room thickens.

“I’m going to try something new,” he begins as his fingers skim up the side of your body. “I need you to trust me,” Taehyung coaxes with his baritone tune.

The moment you see Taehyung shift towards your bedside table, you begin to panic.

“Go easy on me,” you beg.

Taehyung quirks an eyebrow toward you, amusement evident in his features. He continues to grab hold of a small candle that sits comfortably on your table, dust collected on the top of it showing that you’ve hardly used the poor thing.

“Hm,” he fake ponders to himself. “Why? Was the last time too much for you?”

Taehyung lights the candle with a match set laying beside it, giving a warm comfortable glow to a small portion of your room. He laughs to himself, but assures you with a kind gesture of cuffing your cheek that he’ll be kinder to you.

“I’m only teasing,” he comments. Taehyung lowers himself level with you; his body slots itself between your thighs as he holds himself over your chest. Slowly, he lowers his face to meet yours; his eyes grow to a warm red. “I know what your body can handle. If I see you in any way uncomfortable, I’ll stop myself. I won’t push you like I did the other night.”

“I’m just sore,” you bite back a smile. “Even after the shower and after having some of your… When you gave me a bit of your blood.”

Taehyung hums in acknowledgement. “It was only a very small bit, if I had given you more then you’d probably be suited for a different type of night,” he winks, “But don’t worry, kitten, I’ll take good care of you if you let me have you.”

You nod your head as you swallow heavily. Instinctively, you grip the bar in your grasp tighter. Slowly, Taehyung connects his lips to yours once again. This time it’s softer, tentative. He feels like a cloud of smoke infiltrating your nostrils. Inflaming your lungs and airways all throughout your body.

As if you breathe him in as another source of life. Where oxygen cannot even compete.

“Can I hear you say it?”

You chase his mouth as he pulls away to look down at you. Your eyes are drawn to the sharp teeth that stand out in his mouth, how they protrude eagerly. Ready to draw blood.

“You can have me… On one condition,” you speak up.

“Oh?” Taehyung smiles. His palm drags from your thigh up to your lower stomach, moving your shirt up along your body. “You’re not really in a position to negotiate with me,” he smirks.

“You said we’d talk about what you meant by ‘adjusting’.”

“And you want to talk about that now?”

“Well,” you blink up at him, “We haven’t had the chance to yet.”

Taehyung sighs as his hand rests on your stomach, circling small traces into your skin with his fingertips. His eyes grow redder, more hungrier, the longer you hold him back.

“Kitten, I’m not sure you understand the severity of this situation. I don’t expect you to know. I can’t afford to lose you now that I finally have you,” he says while analyzing your face. “But for clarity, I need you to know that everything you see right now – your bed, this room, your apartment… You don’t need anymore if you just let me take care of you.”

Taehyung’s hand eventually slides up to cuff one of your breasts, drawing your clouded mind out from the worries that dwell in the deepest corners of your brain. He squeezes it firmly, earning a soft hum from you.

To seduce you further into the realms of sin, he raises the material of your shirt completely above your chest so he can begin placing soft and tender kisses to your cleavage. His mouth engulfs your flesh wherever it lands, sucking in pieces of your skin as his tongue slides around.

He latches himself on one of your nipples, biting the bud with his front teeth. Taehyung repeats his actions to your other boob, making sure to give the same loving treatment.

“You’re mine,” he states smoothly. “I’ll take care of everything for you. Treat you just how you need to be treated,” – he kisses your sternum – “I want you to be with me. But I won’t expect this to happen so soon,” – he kisses lower, down towards your stomach – “I’ll take my time with you.”

“Tae,” you breathe in with a gasp. His lips travel even more lower, tickling your stomach with promises of him moving down toward the apex of your thighs.

He looks up at the call of his name, his stunning red eyes shining in the low glow of the candle’s light. How do they do that? You’re not sure. But they reflect like a beautiful moonlight, tainted in a devious red. Taehyung’s tongue reaches out of his mouth to lick your stomach, swiping a long line of saliva across your skin.

Taehyung does nothing but entices you. Tempts you to crack under his ministrations like a good girl he knows you are. You’ve done it so many times already, it’s no surprise when you finally cave in.

Before Taehyung can descend down between your thighs, he leans back up to give you one last parting kiss.

His voice shakes your core when he speaks next. His control over you stimulates such a thrill in your entire being that you’re wiggling with anticipation while waiting for him to ravage you.

“I want you to forget your surroundings and only think of me,” his hands continue to pull the fabric of your shirt higher.

Taehyung continues to slide the length up your arms, nearly flipping the material inside-out – but it’s enough to cover your face entirely. Blocking your sight from seeing anything as it shields you. Your chest rises and falls with early signs of labored breath as the material creates a cone around your (thankfully your arms help keep it loose and not tight) around your head.

“Kitten, I want you to only focus on me. My touch, my voice, my smell,” he lists one right after another with the perfect level of desire.

“– Feel me.”

“Okay,” you breathe out, feeling the heat of your breath envelop your narrow space.

Keeping your eyes open or shut has no difference when you can’t see anything around you. You’re forced to use your other senses as if you’re in survival mode. Every other one heightens their abilities to accommodate the restricted one.

You feel Taehyung’s head move as his body shifts to lay flatter against you. His hands touch you tenderly, but possessively. Making sure that every inch of your undamaged skin gets the attention it deserves.

The chill of his cool fingers almost tickle you with how soft they are when they map their way around your body. Drawing lines and circles as if he’s sketching out his game plan. Rising goosebumps to your skin and hardening your nipples once he slithers his way towards your belly button.

Taehyung smiles to himself, watching the way your body reacts to his minuscule touches. His body slots nicely between your legs, spreading them and leaving your core open for his hand to slide down between you two. He teases the idea of touching you between your lips, using his fingertips to run around your lower region. But he doesn’t dive deeper for you, even when you voluntarily open your legs wider to give him the hint.

“You’re being so good right now,” he comments with a low chuckle. It makes you mewl on the inside, chest tightening at the small praise. Taehyung’s two fingers dip low enough to spread open your lower lips, exposing your pussy to his view. It’s leaking slightly with a shiny sheen of arousal.

“You smell so good right now too.”

Your breath hitches when you feel Taehyung grip your clit between his two fingers. It’s soft, but jolts your body nonetheless. Your hips jerk towards him, body rising as you twitch in your place.

“Shit,” you curse between your teeth.

“Easy,” he warns as he releases your clit, “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, kitten.”

Taehyung leans down as he laughs, lips kissing across the skin of your torso. Your arms twitch, something in you wanting to immediately wrap your arms around him but you know better not to. So you tighten your grip on your headboard’s bar, your nails threatening your skin to forewarn you to stay sane.

To stay alert.

Suddenly, you feel a hot sensation touch your chest. It stings and lingers there in a sparking burn. You twist your body, but Taehyung pins you down.

Another hot feeling hits your skin again, this time between your breasts, and you groan at the impact. You gasp as it trickles down towards your navel, cursing Taehyung’s name as you squirm.

“What is that?” You question through parted lips. Your breath creates a thick air under your shirt, making it harder to breathe comfortably. “Tae?”

“Just pouring some candle wax,” he announces as he drips some more across your left nipple.

You cough at the prickling pain, body begging to be soothed by a cool touch. When the candle wax hardens after it chills, it sticks to your skin as if it belongs there.

Taehyung’s thumb runs across your skin to pluck the dried wax off of you, only to repeat dripping some more in the same areas.

“How does it feel, kitten?” He questions curiously. Taehyung places the candle back down on the table beside the bed, “Do you like it better than my mouth?”

“It’s nice,” you admit as you breathe heavier. Your body feels like it’s under the summer’s sun at its highest point in the sky, melting in the heat of its raging light.

“It’s different,” you add.

Taehyung’s lips skim over your skin, outline the edges of your body as he creeps closer to your neck. His free hand runs over the curves of your side while the other makes its way back down to the junction of your thighs.

You swallow thickly when you feel Taehyung’s head press against your shoulder and neck, inserting himself so he can breathe against the material that separates the two of you.

“And my mouth?” He repeats with a hint of annoyance.

His fingers slide further down, finding the dip of your pussy to swivel his fingertips across the entrance into your vagina. He teases and torments you with the possibility of plunging them straight into your core, but he’s waiting for your response.

“I love your mouth,” you sigh.

Your pussy clenches around nothing yet, just greedy to gain pleasure. Taehyung hums his acknowledgement, smirking into your skin as he applies further pressure with his fingers.

He groans softly while he lays his head against your chest, listening to your rapid beating heart. You’re worked up, being winded tight like a gear cranking to its last knot.

“You better,” he purrs as he finally dips his two fingers into your pussy, “Because you’re making me quite thirsty.”

A moan escapes your mouth when you feel his digits vanish inside of you, touching you against your wet velvet walls. They glide effortlessly, sinking straight to the knuckles before pressing up.

“Fuck,” you slur like an person intoxicated. You haven’t had a lick of alcohol yet you feel the dizzy spins as if you had. It’s just your body trying to comprehend reality.

Taehyung turns his head, shoving his face against your chest to find one of your tits. He mouths the mound, flicking his tongue around your nipple while simultaneously thrusting his digits into you. He pumps slowly, gathering your dripping juice around the base of his fingers while wetting your breast to tease your body.

You moan with pleasure. Trying to battle your inner needs of wanting to move. Needing to follow his guide whichever way he desires to have you. Taehyung sucks in your nipple, twisting it lightly with his teeth and taunting the idea of his fangs piercing you. You keel over, even when pinned down, at the contact. Your shirt becomes like a hot-box of heat; your face tingles with nerves and light traces of sweat. You feel Taehyung as much as he truly wants you to. Exactly how he expects you to.

His palm slides hard into your cunt, knocking your body with the force and waking up your neglected clit. You choke out a moan of pleasure and huff a laugh at yourself.

“Can I taste you?” He smiles against your skin. You know what he’s requesting, and you gladly want to give it to him. “Right here?” He emphasizes with a kiss on the thicker side of your breast.

He also persuades you with the slow rubbing of his fingers pressing into your vaginal canal. It’s enticing, beckoning you to surrender to him.

“Please,” you chuckle. You toss your head to the side, hoping to find an airway that gives you fresher air. “Please bite me.”

Upon request, he takes no chances in wasting time. His teeth sink delicately into your flesh, poking open two puncture wounds to access your warm blood. He groans when the flavor touches his tongue, nearly animalistic at first. Though Taehyung controls that beastly side of him, never losing his focus on getting what he wants all the while he pleasures you to the extreme.

You’d be lying if you said his noises of indulging in your blood scares you. In some way, it fuels your mind that you’re desirable and tasty. At least, it confirms that he’s relying on you at this very moment. That you are needed and wanted.

And knowing this, you smile with the pain. Smirking as creases in your forehead form with anguish from the throbbing wound surrounded by Taehyung’s mouth. He pushes his fingers further in you, using his palm to roll flat against your clit as he sucks in your bleeding blood.

He can hear the way your breath begins to pick up and he likes it. Taehyung continues to bite into another section of your tit without notice, dragging out more blood from you.

“Delicious,” he comments while his tongue laps up a small trail of blood that escapes.

The obvious sucking of your skin slowly bruises from his lavishing lips. But he pulls away momentarily to admire the small grotesque scene.

Your hips roll into the pace of his fingers, cunt clutching with a vise grip. You can feel a coil deep inside of you twisting tighter the more he fingers you. The bed below you shifts as you feel Taehyung move his body to lay between your legs. His lips kiss your hips before descending closer to your pussy as he keeps his fingers lodged in you.

“Is this what you want too?” His voice comes out gravelly as he draws attention to your engorged clit. Blowing softly against it.

You pinch your legs together as much as you can given the fact Taehyung is placed between them. A small whine, very low, comes out of your nose. How your pussy practically sucks his fingers in further, he doesn’t need to hear the words of affirmation to know how badly your body wants him.

“Yes,” you breathe out, “I want it!”

“You want my mouth here?” He asks, annoying you and leading you on at the same time with his teasing.

Taehyung continues to move his fingers at an agonizingly slow pace, but the tiny contact of the tip of his tongue touching your clit for a second – and only one second – has you rolling up into him with fever.

“Yes!” You peep up louder, voice gruff as you practically pant under the fabric of your shirt.

You thrash your head around, trying your damn hardest to obey his silent no touching rule. You huff when you begin to feel his lips on your inner thigh, away from the place you really want him.

“Tae, please put your mouth on me,” you whisper as you jerk your hips towards him.

He giggles to himself when his mouth hovers over the soft flesh of your thigh, using his hand to prop your leg up. You feel the cool lick of his tongue as he tastes your skin again, running his lips over the area as he prepares for his meal.

“Oh, I will,” he says with a smile.

With that, he takes a bite into your thigh. It’s not as rough as the last time, but still, it stings the same. The more you struggle, releasing a sharp yelp from your mouth, the worse the pain becomes. It not only shocks you, but you find yourself immediately shooting your tied hands down towards the area of the prickling burn. Your shirt moves with you, releasing your face into the fresh air of your room and granting you the chance to breathe freely. Your body thrusts up; a call to Taehyung has your eyes watering for a split second until you see the sharp daggers of his blunt red eyes looking up from where he’s latched onto you.

Your hands are centimeters away from his head before you stop yourself from nearly touching him. He startles you with a single look, daring you to defy his command.

Slowly, he releases his mouth from your thigh and his eyes never leave yours. He doesn’t even bother to blink when he withdraws his fingers from you as well. Though you stay there, sitting up in your spot on the bed as Taehyung takes his leisure time to level his head with yours. You feel small pieces of your hair sticking to the sides of your face and back of your neck, but from the way the vampire glares at you – you are sure the rest of the hair on your body sticks straight up.

Blood dribbles down the corner of his parted mouth as Taehyung leans closer to you. If it were any other time you would be admiring the way his luscious black locks have been pushed back from his forehead, exposing his full beauty even in the dimly lit room. But for now you feel like a prey being stalked by its apex predator – cornered with nowhere left to run.

Frozen in place, you muster the courage to blurt out a cracked, “I-I’m sorry!”

Taehyung cups your jaw abruptly, forcing your mouth open with how he places his fingers. The two digits he put inside of your pussy now presses past your teeth and down on your tongue. Forcing you to taste your own flavor.

“I know you are, kitten,” he expresses with a cracked smile. “You just want so much right now, don’t you? But,” Taehyung uses his hold on your head to lean you back down to the pillows, “You’re not allowed to.”

You nod your head as you understand his words. He’s right after all. You practically want everything when it comes to him, don’t you? With the record list between the two of you, it's always Taehyung who has ultimate control.

“Now,” – he grabs your bounded hands once again and lifts them above your head – “I will litter your skin with my bite if you even think about breaking my rule. I will not clean you up. I will not heal you like I did earlier. You’ll be left looking like a mutilated mess. Do you understand me?”

Fucking Hell… You do! You completely and entirely understand him. And you most certainly believe every word spoken.

Why is it that he can say such things and place such control over you and get away with it all? While not one other person in your life can make you break like this… Or make you feel so down and dirty?

“Yes,” you manage to speak with two fingers pressing onto your tongue, “I won’t do it.”

“That’s my good girl,” he coos, removing his fingers from your mouth. “You know when you behave, I give you more.”

“And I like that…” you confess, heat rising to your cheeks.

Taehyung lifts your leg by the underside of your knee to hook around his shoulder. He grins from ear to ear with how you own up to enjoying his treatments. His eyes peer down to the leaking blood from his bite mark, watching how it smears against anything it touches.

“You’ve sedated me for now, my little kitten, but I’ll be coming back for more. That is a promise,” he whispers in his low baritone voice.

He freely removes the button from his pants before sliding his bottoms down enough to release himself. His cock hangs from his body, proud and erect. The length alone can tell anyone that it’s a heavy appendage. His free hand wraps around the base to begin stroking himself as he looks over your naked body. You’re so far beyond distracted that you don’t notice how he stares at you watching him touch himself. Lost in the appreciation of how he touches himself with you in his mind.

You mentally prepare yourself for having his cock impale you. Clenching erratically the more you ponder the way his dick will stretch your pussy open.

“Do you want this?” He quips up the question with a smug smile.

The more he pumps himself, squeezing tightly at the head of his dick, the more his breath begins to match yours. He leans himself closer, bending your leg with his advance toward you. His cock inches away from your cunt makes you wring your hands together.

“Fuck, yes! Yes I do,” you express with passion.

Taehyung slaps the underside of his cock against your spread pussy, tapping it in a taunting manner. He even pushes it roughly against you, mushing his hardened dick on top of your clit and rubbing himself against you.

Your body is so desperate that you’re arching your back and hips to accommodate the angles you need to try and get Taehyung to slip right into your entrance. A poor attempt at getting what you want, even though you’ve clearly stated the obvious.

“Taehyung, please!” you nearly yell at him.

Who cares about your neighbors? Who cares what time it is right now? All you care about is having Taehyung fulfill your carnal desires by plugging you up with his lengthy cock.

A harsh slap hits your asscheek. You whine at the contact while Taehyung groans.

“So eager,” he comments as he angles his cockhead against your entrance. “What happened to being my good girl?” he snorts. “I’ll leave you high and dry. I can make sure you won't finish yourself off either. Is that what you want?”

“No!” you drone. Tossing your head to the side, you purposely expose more of your neck toward him. “I’m just so ready to go – to cum. You can do anything, just please let me cum.”

Taehyung leans down enough to meet your face, his lips brushing against your cheek as he stretches your leg. You can feel the tension of his cock resting right at your hole, hardly enough to break open your wall and slide itself inside. But he gives it to you, just how you want it.

With one tiny push of his hips, Taehyung enters you. Stretching your elastic walls open and diving into your wetness.

“So generous,” he judges. His mouth kisses down your jawline and meets the column of your neck. Blood rushes through your vein that protrudes out enough for him to kiss. “Offering me your neck so freely?” Your heart skips a beat thinking he’ll take the bait and sink his fangs into you, but Taehyung does no such thing. Instead, he softly kisses you right above your pulsepoint. Sucking your skin in a delicate caress as his cock plunges to the hilt.

He fills you up so nicely, so fully. Sometimes it even feels like it’s too much – although right now it feels just right. He feels incredibly right.

You gasp out loud, even stutter a moan as you adjust to his cock. Your nails dig into your palms with the tension built up inside of you. With one single thrust, Taehyung already has your body feeling like it’s levitating. Primed to lift itself all the way to rapturous pleasure.

“Fuck –” you curse with a cloudy brain, “– you feel so good.”

“Mmm,” Taehyung hums as he drags his cock out of you. He waits a moment before sliding himself back in – in one easy stride for his hips to slap into you.

You tighten each and every time he does. Pacing himself to his own beat as his mouth caresses the side of your neck. You’re forced to tense your body with anticipation. Strained like how your vocal cords were the other night when he showed you no mercy.

There’s a particular thrust that has your body jerking toward Taehyung to meet his cock. Whether it be the angle he adjusted himself with or your body finally calling the shots on its own behalf, you’re unsure.

But you do feel the knot building deep inside your abdomen winding itself tighter and tighter. Hardening the longer and harder Taehyung pushes himself up in you, seconds from combusting.

“Do you feel me?” Taehyung quizzes.

His question feels completely stupid… of course you can feel him. How could you possibly not at a time like this?

Taehyung’s hand snakes up to touch your tit, squeezing the round of it and swiping away the trickling bloodspill.

“Yeah, I do…” you groan.

“Good.”

Taehyung leans himself up to get a better look at your body once again. His knees hold his body upright as your leg dangles over his shoulder while the other rests open toward the other side of his body. He grips one hand around your thigh as the other hovers over your lower abdomen. He slants his palm so that his thumb can reach your clit while the rest of his hand can push down against you.

He’s slow and sensual about it while applying pressure to make it feel tighter for you. You dare to peek over at how he looks hovering above you. The candle’s flame does nothing but illuminate his beautiful features in a sexy light. His mouth hangs open as he breathes out short breaths while his hips swing into you naturally.

You can feel yourself losing your vision the closer you’re pushed to the edge of your release. With all the help Taehyung gives you, there are no complications to reaching that divine orgasm.

“I’m gonna – I’m gonna!” you warn with every last bit of rationality inside of you.

Your nails scratch hard into your clenching fists as you’re hit with a wave of tingly delight. Thumping sensations blast through your nerves while heat floods your entire body. You tighten your body as it tries to figure out how to correspond to the sensations, wriggling in your spot as Taehyung holds you firm.

Taehyung’s name leaves your lips in a moan as your body shakes. You sweat and pant while he fucks you through your orgasm, smiling down at your writhing body while he continues to impale you with his cock.

“It’s so lovely to see you enjoying yourself,” he praises. But even he is holding himself back on indulging himself further and from tearing another orgasm out of you. He'll do one right after another if your body will allow it, but he knows you're in no shape for that. Taehyung can feel how you feel.

He slows his strokes as he witnesses streaks of cum dress his thick shaft. Taehyung pulls out only halfway for his palm to wrap around his base to stroke himself.

“W-Why’d you stop?” You turn to look at him with concern.

“You’re tight against me,” he comments as he slightly nudges his cock into you again. “If I pry you open again, it’ll hurt.”

“I can handle it!” You retort. “It’s ok, we’ve done it before!”

Taehyung huffs as his hand continues to jerk the rest of his cock. He stares into your eyes when he recites the word ‘no’ to you. You can feel how his fist smacks lightly into your cunt as he flicks his wrist along his shaft.

“Next time,” he declares in a low tone. You can sense that he’s drawing near to his own climax from the pace of his tugs. “But for right now just lay here and look pretty for me.”

It doesn’t take much longer for Taehyung’s breath to catch up to speed. For his orgasm to roll into him and his semen to spill inside and over your cunt as he pulls out. His short-winded noises breeze into the air around you as he presses his cockhead against his cum, rubbing it messily around the folds of your pussy.

Your pet name drips softly out of his parted lips with a deep groan. Taehyung stares down at the junction of your thighs, admiring the lewd painting he’s created with the mess of you two.

A hand cradles your face while the other begins to untie the scarf around your wrists. He softly strokes your cheek with his thumb, basking in the warmth of your body.

“Do you have anything you can eat in your kitchen? Any natural juices? I’ll grab some while I look around for something to clean you up with.”

The sun begins to beam just a tad through the blinds in your room. The cloudy sky keeps most of the rays at bay, but it serves as a reminder to Taehyung that he must find coverage away from the scorching light when it decides to shine.

“I don’t have much, I usually purchase things from the local convenience store down the road.”

You watch as Taehyung redresses himself as he shuffles around your room. He analyzes his surroundings, peeks at some of your looming decorations and unkept closet and dresser. While he makes himself presentable once again, all you can manage is swiftly pulling the oversized shirt back down your body and ignoring the slippery mess that’s mushed between your thighs.

“Stay,” he orders. His finger points to you.

“Tae, I’m fine. I can walk,” you reassure as you lean up, letting your legs hang off the edge of the bed.

Globs of cum spread more between your thighs the more you move around. But your independence is a hard trait to shake down when you’re used to doing most things on your own.

The second you push up and off the mattress, a swift hand lands on your shoulder to hold you down. Firmly, Taehyung holds you in your sitting position, eyes which turn back to their normal state drills his demand into yours.

“Just… stay. I’ll be back in two seconds.”

Frustration fuels you momentarily. Within a flash, you witness how Taehyung’s body nearly vanishes with unimaginable speed. Your bedroom door swings with the wind once he returns.

A small cup filled with cool water, topped with two ice cubes, is presented before you. One small towel from your bathroom sink is clutched in his other hand. With a pointed look, you take the generous liquid from him as he maneuvers his body closer to you.

“Sip on that for now,” he requests. “And spread your legs so I can clean you up.”

Taehyung is already pushing your thighs apart before you can reject him. Cloth delicately running over your skin and whipping up what remains he’s left on you. The sensitivity that runs through your lower region makes you wince slightly from the pressure of his hand. You tip the glass to your lips, taking a few sips of icy water to cool you down.

It’s weird. Having someone do nearly everything for you. It almost makes you feel useless or unskilled. But that’s the stubborn mindset you’ve gained within your years of growth; adjusting to your world and what experiences you had to endure. The individuality of yourself is what makes you feel important; you never really enjoyed depending on others as guilt washed over you. So you learned to take care of yourself – for the most part. Figuring out life how most try to do, and keep trying to do.

But as you stare at the way Taehyung, a man you are slowly getting to know – someone who is completely willing to sweep you off your feet and treat you like you’re untouchable to everyone but him, takes care of you… You begin to feel the slightest of ease when you allow him to take control. Not allowing you to lift a single finger.

“All clean,” Taehyung comments with his soothing voice. He inspects the wound on your thigh, tracing the outline of his bite with his forefinger. “I hope you don’t mind me leaving these here. It’ll be a nice reminder for you.”

You feel heat prick at your cheeks from his statement. A flush of embarrassment creeping out from within.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” you murmur under your breath.

He cracks a smile at that, surely pleased with himself. Taehyung gently tosses the used towel towards a pile of laundry you’ve yet to wash while returning his attention back toward you.

“I want to give you something,” he begins. His hand slips through a pocket in his jacket to pull out his wallet. He flips through the folds until his fingers land on a plastic card, yanking it out and handing it over to you. “Take this and treat yourself while I’m gone. Whatever you want or need.”

You stare at the credit card with a dumbfounded look to your face. With a quick shake of your head, you automatically decline the offer.

“I don’t need that,” you state.

As your hand pushes him away, somehow, Taehyung fiddles his fingers with yours. Managing to slip the card from his grasp and into yours. He squeezes your palm around the thin card, not taking rejection for an answer.

“Keep it, you need to get yourself some proper groceries. Unless you want me to send over a servant to do it for you. Your choice.”

“... This doesn’t feel much like a choice.”

Taehyung huffs a laugh, patting your head with amusement. His smile could light up the night sky when he’s like this; getting his way that is.

“Tae, I really can’t take this –”

“– Kitten, I want you to have this,” he reasons. His hand slides down the side of your face and cups your jaw. “I won’t be around for the next few days. But consider this as a part of your ‘adjusting’. Get used to me wanting to pamper you and please, let me take care of you.”

You blink up into Taehyung’s eyes that flicker in the dim candle light left on your bedside table. The softening sun rays glow in your room as light rain trickles against the windows. Taehyung looks not only handsome but he also looks more real. Especially when the shadows on his face somehow add warmth to his complexion and his beautiful eyes soften with genuinity.

There’s a feeling in your heart that strains against giving in to such a proposal. Even though the idea of having everything done for you sounds pleasing, wouldn’t it become boring to have no reason? To not do something on your own? Would the constant displays of service become not enough and unsatisfying for you in the end?

Any normal person would say this is something too good to be true. To take up on the offer. But there is something blocking you from fully accepting Taehyung.

You’re not ready yet.

Taehyung sighs out of his nostrils when you remain mute. He straightens his posture and retracts his hand from your jawline.

“It’s there if you need it,” he references to the card still in your hand. “I placed my contact information in your phone also.” Taehyung turns to leave your room, talking over his shoulder to you as he departs.

Something pulls against your heart as you see his back fade further away from you.

“Wait!” You frantically stand up. You take nearly three steps until you run into the back of Taehyung who freezes in his spot, twisting his head to look down at you. Your fist manages to grab a hold of the sleeve to his jacket, alerting him with a quick tug. “I’m sorry!” – you begin with uncertainty in your voice – “I just… I just don’t know what’s happening. What could happen. I don’t know what this all means or what will come of this.”

“Kitten,” Taehyung quietly speaks. “I’ve already told you. I’ll give you whatever you want. I can see you need to process it more and I won’t rush you. Sadly, I must head out. The day isn’t a vampire’s friend. But do know, little kitten,” he takes a finger and dances it along the length of your arm and down towards your wrist. Taehyung lifts the back of your hand to his mouth, placing an everlasting kiss to your skin. “You’re already mine.”

Moodboard inspiration and credits fully to @caelesjjk

#black ravens #red eyes #bangtansorciere #dailydaegu #armysource #networkbangtan #taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #vampire taehyung #bts smut #vampire!au #kth1 #kim taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung smut #btsdreamcourt #thebtswritersclub #br: red eyes #black ravens red eyes

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theharrowing · 6 months

Text

Fledgling

Jungkook is tired of his dreary existence. So when a mysterious stranger offers him a way out of life as he knows it, he takes it without hesitation.

🩸 Human (to Vampire) Jungkook x Vampire Namjoon

🩸 word count: 12.3k

🩸 dead dove, strangers to lovers, vampire au, horror, blood & gore, major character death (kind of; to become a vampire), smut, light angst, possessive fluff, 21+

🩸 warnings: dead dove 🕊 do not eat! top Namjoon bottom Jungkook; a vampiric game of cat and mouse; this is a bloody fucking mess; Jungkook has a death wish and makes unwise choices; talk of sex work and using men for a place to sleep; Calvin Klein babygirl Jungkook; lavender Namjoon; talk of robbing men jk sleeps with; talk of a car crash and the sight of the aftermath of a crash; use of the word whore; vampire compulsion/charming; lots of pet names and terms of threatening endearment; possessiveness; classist language jk says toward himself (which does not reflect my real opinions at all); fear kink; nj drinking JK’s blood; jk literally bleeds to death (hi hello this is a vampire fic lol); smut (temperature play kind of; does this count as blood play???; blow job; anal fingering; anal sex; dying while being fucked and having a lovely time; semi-public sex beside corpses); a lot of blood drinking; having a captive person whose blood is drained; jk loses his autonomy completely.

🩸 note: in this fic, we observe a world where Jungkook has heard of zombies but not vampires, okay. suspend your disbelief just once, my loves!!! this one is quite dark but not terribly graphic, all things considered. there is plenty of blood & gore tho!!! i did not get a chance to proofread as much as i usually do, so if you notice any errors, feel free to let me know!

🩸 happy halloween to my lovely @sweetestofchaos! 🧛🏻 👻 🎃 🍂 i hope you enjoy this!!! i only meant for this to be a short, sweet oneshot and it completely took on a life of its own.

🩸 written for the bts fantasy & fangs trick or treat event! check out more hauntingly good works!

🩸 beta read by @neoneunnajimin

🩸 posted oct. 2023 | read on ao3

The moment the older man walks into the bar, Jeongguk takes in a deep, fortifying breath and instinctively holds it. Something about the way this man carries himself – tall, broad, and strong, with an aura of danger surrounding him – makes Jeongguk weak in the knees, and he grips onto the poles of the tiny caged-in stage and swishes his hip as he gets low into a squatting position.

Being a go-go dancer at a bar this seedy tends to attract the attention of the wrong type of men – men with families waiting for them; men with enough power and influence to make them greedy and mean; men who know damn well that a pretty little thing like Jeongguk disappearing from a shithole like this would not raise many alarms.

Jeongguk gets a thrill from being spoiled by rich married men; he dares one of them to swoop in and make him disappear – even if it means death. Anything would be better than this life, he thinks.

Unfortunately for him, the wealthy men who gravitate toward him are all talk – anything for an easy fuck. They promise Jeongguk the world, telling him how badly they want to get him out of his current rundown apartment and wax poetic about a better life – modeling contracts or sugar baby arrangements.

Oh, how they moan and groan and lament over how stunning Jeongguk is – talented, and thoughtful, and pretty. And then they fuck him and leave him, never calling back, moving along to the next sad little poor thing to utter empty platitudes to while balls deep inside them.

Jeongguk can already tell that this man is different. This man is dangerous beyond just money and an appetite for young meat. This man could make Jeongguk disappear in the blink of an eye.

The man who approaches the bar is gorgeous, dressed head to toe in black – a fitted jacket over a button-up, tucked into fitted slacks. His slightly grown-out hair is lightened to a soft lavender-blond and pushed off his forehead, his eyes are razor-sharp, and his pillow-plush lips are pulled into a smirk. As he walks, men straighten out and step to the side, quick to get out of his way.

Jeongguk watches as the man approaches the bar and leans with one elbow against the wood, ordering a drink and letting his gaze drift around the smoke-filled space. And when the man's eyes land on Jeongguk, he feels his pulse quicken.

Something dark and indiscernible flashes in the man's gaze and Jeongguk feels a pull, leaning forward, bare chest touching the cold metal bars that his hands loosely hold onto. His blood shimmers and soars through his veins, and he swoons to the cold touch of steel.

All sound around him – music and voices – seem to slow and morph, as if he is sinking deep underwater. The man's smirk grows to a salacious grin, and then he turns his gaze away from Jeongguk, who crashes back to reality as he heavy-blinks his surroundings into place.

Slowly, Jeongguk swishes his hips up to a standing position, finding he has to grip a little harder onto the poles, which are slick from sweat that has pooled beneath his palms. The man does not look back at Jeongguk, talking instead to another patron with his back facing this way, leaving him feeling empty and disappointed.

In an attempt to save face, Jeongguk dances for two more songs, eyes never straying from the back of the man, and then picks his black denim jacket up off the floor and exits the cage, hours too soon.

"Need a bathroom break," he mutters to his manager Sunmi, who stands with her arms folded over her chest, scowling at him.

"Make it quick," she snaps, to which he simply grunts, in return.

Jeongguk has half a mind to walk out the back door and go home. He cannot explain why, but he experiences such a pull to the lavender-haired man that having him turn away and not regard him leaves him feeling so disappointed and frustrated that he would rather call it a night than continue to work.

Of the dancers, Jeongguk is easily the most attractive, and he garners the most attention, meaning the managers are on his ass the most, and would definitely berate him for leaving. Luckily, he has no working cell phone at the moment, which could make leaving a lot less annoying.

The bathroom is a dimly lit shithole with yellowed walls and chipped tiles that may have once been white, years and years ago. It reeks of piss and urinal detergent blocks, and every surface is inexplicably wet. Jeongguk scrunches his nose uncomfortably, never able to get used to the stench, as he approaches the sink and stands before it, not quite sure what to do with himself.

Staring at his reflection, Jeongguk begins to give himself a silent pep talk. The way he looks now – bangs hanging in his eyes, which are smudged black like coal – he is far too fucking hot to let some asshole ruin his night.

Tonight, his hair is down – falling nearly to his shoulders in pretty dark brown waves. He wears a thin black tie under his black denim jacket, and black loose-fitting denim pants – no shirt. Dressed like this, men never turn their attention away from him once he has it, so what was that guy's fucking problem?

Jeongguk runs the sink and splashes some cold water on his face, letting it drip down his chest. He uses a paper towel to blot at his forehead and cheeks but allows the droplets on his pecs and abs to linger and glisten.

Maybe, he thinks, maybe he can score the hot lavender-haired man. At the very least, he anticipates someone will take him home tonight. Someone always does.

As he exits the bathroom, the first thing Jeongguk notices is that the man is no longer at the bar. Briefly, he scans the space, looking for him, then he clears his throat, lifts his head high, and walks back to the cage. The moment he steps in, some older man in a suit walks up and grips onto the bars in front of him, like clockwork.

"Hey, pretty thing," the man snarls, reeking of cigars and gin. What he lacks in looks, he makes up for in confidence, and hopefully money.

"Hey there, handsome," Jeongguk responds sweetly, squatting low enough to be just under eye-level with the man, which only seems to excite him more.

"What time you off work?"

It's always the same with these men, and Jeongguk heavy-blinks once, schooling his plastered smile so as to not grimace.

"I finish when the bar shuts down."

The man is antsy, shifting left to right, gripping onto the bars. Jeongguk can tell that he is considering all the ways in which his money has allowed him to skirt past rules and authority; he can tell the man is going to try to insist that Jeongguk, too, is above his own responsibilities if the man can flash enough notes.

"What do you say we get out of here now, instead?" the man tries, causing Jeongguk's right eye to twitch. "I'm sure your boss can be bought, eh? There's two more dancers here; what's the harm in letting one go?"

With a sweet smile and a shrug, Jeongguk looks over his shoulder demurely. "Boss is back there. The woman standing by the wall – the one who's frowning. If you can convince her to let me go, I'm all yours, big boy."

Fat chance in hell Sunmi noona would allow Jeongguk to leave even a minute before close, but he likes letting these men try their best shot. If anything, being told no only makes them more desperate to have him and they wind up spending a pretty penny on getting him drunk enough to fuck them later.

The man hobbles away, and a curious tingle travels up Jeongguk's neck, filling him with the sudden urge to glance around, certain that someone must be watching him. But as he makes a little spin in his cage, eyes tracing over every patron at the bar, peering over every shadow, he doesn't notice anyone paying him special attention. In fact, the only person he makes eye contact with is Sunmi noona, who is glaring at him while the man before her attempts to barter for his freedom.

Things go just as Jeongguk anticipates, to such an exact formula that he would find it amusing if it were not so fucking tedious. The man is ultimately turned down, then he proceeds to sulk at the bar, only ever leaving his post to bring Jeongguk a new drink or go take a piss. This goes on for an hour and a half, and then the man announces that he is going to use the restroom once more, and for Jeongguk to stay put and don't go too far.

Jeongguk leaves the cage and approaches the bar, feeling tipsy and tired as he leans against the far end and waits for the man to return from the restroom. He oscillates between feeling impatient and wishing the man would not return, saving him from having to suck his drunk, flaccid cock in a desperate attempt to get him hard. He just knows this man is going to have to contend with all the alcohol he has been drinking, and that Jeongguk will be the one paying the price.

Although the man is not Jeongguk's type at all – nothing like the Adonis of a man who walked in hours earlier – Jeongguk supposes he is just happy to have somewhere warm to stay for the night. Never mind how undoubtedly bad the sex is going to be. If he is lucky, Jeongguk may even find an opportunity to rob him. Nothing too wild, just a few notes from the man's wallet and some cufflinks or a watch that he likely wouldn't even miss.

Once more, a tingle works its way from Jeongguk's spine to the nape of his neck, and he shivers, glancing over his right shoulder and then his left, puzzled by the strange sensation.

"Ready to go?" the man asks from Jeongguk's right, taking him by surprise and making him flinch.

Jeongguk sighs out an embarrassed exhale and scoffs to himself. "Sure. Let's go."

"I have a room nearby," the man says. "Five star."

Of course, he has a room nearby, Jeongguk thinks. Men like him always have wives; they never take Jeongguk home with them.

Jeongguk still only wears a black denim jacket, a black tie, and no shirt underneath, and the moment he gets outside, he shivers, tensing his shoulders up to his ears and exhaling visible puffs of air in the cool autumn breeze. Being that it is bar time, the sidewalks are crowded with drunk people stumbling to and fro, and Jeongguk digs his hands deep into his jacket pockets as his shoulders and elbows are slammed into.

The man leads Jeongguk to the end of the block and to the left, around the corner, where the street is somewhat quieter. Just up ahead, a black sports car beeps, flashing its lights. With a crooked smile, the man gestures, keys in hand, to the car and says, "This is me."

Jeongguk halts, kicking the cement with the toe of his boot in an attempt to assess the situation. Ordinarily, men who bring him back to hotels do so in a taxi or with a personal driver.

"Yeah, I'm not getting into that car with you," Jeongguk says slowly, taking a tentative step back. "You've had a lot to drink."

Despite having a bit of a death wish, being smashed in a head-on collision is not his ideal way to go.

The man laughs, or maybe he hiccups – it's hard to say. "Come on, don't be a prude," he slurs. "Get in the car."

With a sigh, Jeongguk takes another step back, pulling his hands from his pockets. He hates it when drunk men get pushy, and he begins to crack his knuckles with his thumbs – a nervous tic.

"Sorry, man," Jeongguk insists, continuing to slowly back away. "I'm not getting into your car."

The man looks incensed, and he turns around in a quick swaying stumble, barreling five or so steps to reach Jeongguk, who holds his hands out in front of him, palms up, as if in surrender.

"Hey, man," Jeongguk begins, "Look, I'm not trying t—"

The man lunges, grabbing one of Jeongguk's wrists, yanking hard enough to make Jeongguk stumble. "I'm not trying to fucking argue. You and I both know I can pay you more money to keep me company than you're worth at that shithole. So why don't you be a good little whore and get in the fucking car!"

Jeongguk attempts to rip his arm away, but the man is surprisingly strong, and he yanks him enough to make Jeongguk stumble once more, causing anger and fear to spike in him. And then the tingle works its way through Jeongguk once more, much stronger than before, and he sways forward and back, blinking heavily as if trapped in a mental fog.

Slow footsteps click-clack against concrete behind Jeongguk, and without looking he knows the handsome man from the bar is standing behind him – he has no idea how or why, but he can sense him.

"Gentlemen," the man says, voice deep and rich, raising Jeongguk's goosebumps even higher. "I trust that this is not a physical altercation that I am walking in on."

The drunk man stands tall, yanking on Jeongguk's wrist again. Feeling intoxicated by the man's presence behind him has Jeongguk's arm relaxed, and he stumbles into the drunk man, causing him to huff angrily and continue to yank Jeongguk toward the car.

"He told you he isn't interested in going with you," the man behind him says, and Jeongguk gasps, curious how much of the conversation he could have overheard.

The drunk man squeezes Jeongguk's wrist before throwing it down and pointing at the man, shouting, "And just who the fuck do you think you are?"

In a blink, the new man is standing right beside Jeongguk, cloying his senses with a rich, heady scent of wildflowers and musk. The drunk man gasps and stumbles a step backward, mouth moving frantically as he quakes with fear, and the man by Jeongguk's side slowly lifts his hand, gripping the drunk man's throat.

"I," the man says slowly, "am your worst…fucking…nightmare."

Silence hangs and then the drunk man begins to laugh, snot and drool flying from his lips. He grips onto the hand around his throat and shoves it down, then he shakes his head, face turning a gruesome shade of red under the golden streetlights.

"You almost had me," the drunk man says, slapping his hand against his thigh. "That was a good one."

Jeongguk finally turns his head to face the lavender-haired man. The man only stands slightly taller than him, but his presence feels enormous. The man smiles, which creates a pretty little dimple in his cheek, and he dryly chuckles along.

"That was pretty funny, wasn't it?" the man beside Jeongguk asks.

The drunk man nods and continues to laugh, looking between Jeongguk and the lavender-haired man.

"Get in your car," the man beside Jeongguk commands firmly.

Suddenly, the man stops laughing, and his eyes lose their shine. As if being piloted by some invisible force, he turns and begins walking toward his car.

"Wait," Jeongguk mutters, looking between the men as the drunk man rounds the hood of his car and opens the driver's side door. "What is he—"

"Drive out to the countryside at top speed and crash into the first semi truck you see," the man beside Jeongguk commands, and Jeongguk watches with confused horror as the drunk man utters something to himself and closes his door.

Instinctively, Jeongguk jolts forward, eager to stop the drunk man from driving in the state he is in. But the man beside him very quietly, almost seductively says, "Oh, baby, you aren't going anywhere," and Jeongguk's entire body freezes.

It is almost as if Jeongguk's skin, down to the marrow in his bones, shimmers and heats up, heavy and dreamy as if every nerve – every blood vessel – is listening to the man beside him and wants to do exactly as he says.

"What are you doing, leaving with a man like him, anyway, hmm?" the man asks.

Jeongguk, finding he is incapable of speaking anything but the absolute truth mutters, "I need the money, and you weren't there."

"You were hoping for me?" The man asks, lifting a dark eyebrow. "Why is that?"

"You're handsome…and you appear dangerous. I wanted to know what it was like to get lost in a man like you."

"Awe," the man groans as he leans close, right beside Jeongguk's ear, voice deep and dangerous, "little ol' me?"

"Yes," Jeongguk mutters, feeling any miniscule sense of control quickly leaving him as the man says, "Then come with me."

The man turns and begins to walk the way he came, and Jeongguk feels his limbs twist and buckle as if led by invisible strings. He stumbles as he attempts to keep up, unable to move his lips to speak or to pull his gaze away from the back of the man.

Lavender hair, broad shoulders, and an expensive suit – nothing else in the world exists. That is, until the man turns onto the still crowded street, and Jeongguk follows along so obediently that he causes pedestrians to trip over him.

Drunk people stumble and swear, telling him to watch his step, muttering under their breath about what a fucking degenerate he is. Jeongguk pays no mind – hardly hears them. All he can focus on is the strong man with the floral and musk scent, leading him along.

For the second time tonight, Jeongguk and a strange man approach an expensive car. Only this time, when the man motions for Jeongguk to get into the passenger seat, he doesn't think twice – couldn't think twice if he wanted to.

A voice in the back of his head wonders where they are going, what the man could want from him, how he is leading Jeongguk to act against his will. But he cannot form these thoughts into words; he cannot speak.

The car this man drives is nice – nicer than the generic sports car the other man drove. Far too nice to be flashing it around in a neighborhood like this. If the wrong person catches someone driving around this side of town in something this expensive, it is likely the owner will end up floating face down in the river by dawn.

Not that a man like this one has any reason to fear others.

"Close the door" the man commands as soon as Jeongguk slides into the passenger seat, and he does as he is told. Jeongguk can sense the man turning toward him as he asks, "Wanna see where our friend ended up?"

"Yes," Jeongguk mutters against any better judgment he could have. Ordinarily, he would never admit it, but he is curious.

The man chuckles, presses the ignition button, and speeds off down the road. Jeongguk sits stiff as a board, eyes wide and staring at the cars and buildings passing at speeds that he is terrified to comprehend in the middle of the city. And without a seatbelt, because the mysterious stranger never instructed him to put one on.

"What is your name, pretty?" the man asks, voice magnanimous but still containing an edge to it.

"Jeongguk," he mutters in response. "Jeon Jeongguk."

"Jeongguk," the man repeats nice and slow. His name sounds like honey dripping from the man's tongue, and Jeongguk wishes he could turn and properly see him. "My name is Namjoon. But you can call me sir."

"Yes, sir," Jeongguk responds without thinking.

Namjoon chuckles deeply, leaving the slums for the wealthy outskirts before veering off into the countryside. At the speed which Namjoon is driving, the outside may as well be a black abyss, shrouded in shadow. Headlights and taillights streak by as Namjoon weaves through lanes. And then, up ahead, Jeongguk sees it.

The bright glow of a large headlight shines up ahead, and as they approach, Jeongguk realizes the other headlight is obstructed by what hardly looks like a black car. The front of it is smashed almost like an accordion, surrounded in exploded glass.

“It’s safe to say he won’t be bothering you anymore,” Namjoon announces with a smile in his voice.

“Why did you do this?” Jeongguk mutters, unable to tear his eyes away from the crash.

“Look at me,” Namjoon commands, and Jeongguk’s head snaps to the left before he is able to think.

Namjoon is devilishly handsome – eyes sharp, dark almonds and heavy-lidded, with pillow lips pulled into a smirk. "I didn't like the way he touched you," he explains, lifting a hand to delicately caress Jeongguk's cheek. The touch is ice cold and electric, making Jeongguk suck in air quickly through his teeth.

Sirens and lights blare from in front of them and behind, and Namjoon lifts his eyebrow, then says, "Well, this is our cue to go!" while flashing a smile so bright, it gives Jeongguk chills.

Namjoon reverses and then whips around, tires screeching as the car does a 180 and speeds off back toward town. Jeongguk continues to watch Namjoon, eyes stuck on his side profile, in part because he is so beautiful, but also because he has not been given instruction to look elsewhere.

How Namjoon is able to weave through cop cars, fire trucks, and an ambulance without anyone turning their attention to him is beyond Jeongguk, but he is unable to think too deeply about it, mind too full of fog. Jeongguk expected Namjoon to continue driving deeper into the countryside and take him somewhere terrifyingly secluded, and he is surprised when the city lights return.

"What is a pretty thing like you doing in a place like that, anyway?" Namjoon asks, breaking a tense silence.

Jeongguk continues to stare at the side of Namjoon's face, feeling his pulse quicken when the man turns his gaze to him briefly with a hint of a smile.

"Places like that are where all pretty things like me end up," Jeongguk mutters somewhat methodically. He has more thoughts on the matter, but he finds that all his brain and mouth will offer are exact responses.

"And why is that?" Namjoon asks as he pulls to a red light and turns his full attention to Jeongguk.

Tears build in the edges of Jeongguk's eyes. He cannot tell whether it is because he has not blinked since he was told to look at Namjoon, or if the man has struck a nerve. He thinks perhaps it is somewhere in the middle.

"I'm a dropout with no direction," Jeongguk responds quietly, voice cracking around his words. "No rich parents…I don't have anything to offer but my body."

Ordinarily, when Jeongguk bothers to open up to men, they put on a pitying act. They promise Jeongguk this and that while assuring him that he does have purpose – he does have something to offer to the world. Namjoon, on the other hand, perks up. He practically snarls. And when the light turns green, he continues watching Jeongguk for a few more tense seconds.

"Ah, yes," the man finally says as he returns his gaze to the street and continues driving. "Another pretty face who could disappear and nobody would miss them."

Although Jeongguk feels like Namjoon is mocking him, there is no mockery in his tone. He is so perfectly matter of fact, that Jeongguk is unable to feel angry if he wanted to, because he is a classic case of a nobody, as far as anyone is concerned; Namjoon could murder him tonight and the only person who would notice him missing would be his boss, and even she wouldn't go looking for him.

"Do you like that job?" Namjoon asks as they begin to wind through darker streets that Jeongguk assumes is a more residential area.

Jeongguk quietly mutters, "No."

"Are there aspects about it you like at all?"

"I like dancing," Jeongguk responds as tears break and streak down his cheeks. His eyes feel dry and heavy, and he forces himself to partially blink, finding that his eyes will not close entirely. "And I like the attention. Getting spoiled by rich men is fun, but I wish most of them weren't so gross."

Namjoon laughs, turning his attention briefly to Jeongguk. His eyes appear to be dark black pools of nothing, and Jeongguk does not have a mind to question it.

"Do you think I'm gross?" he asks in a playful tone.

"No," Jeongguk responds instantly. "You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen."

"And if I want to spoil you?" Namjoon continues as he seems to pull to the side of the road but keeps his ignition on. He turns to fully face Jeongguk, cocking his head to the side.

"Please," Jeongguk all but whispers, then he clears his throat. "It will hurt like hell when you abandon me, but I'm used to it."

If Jeongguk were not spellbound, he would surely feel embarrassed over his admission. Being this honest with strange men is not his wheelhouse; he has never fully admitted to his feelings with anyone in the past.

"And if I choose not to abandon you?" Namjoon asks as he scrapes his pearly teeth over his plush bottom lip. Jeongguk's eyes follow the movement; he desperately wants to know how that lip feels between his own teeth.

"Don't tease me," Jeongguk responds, voice slow and distracted as he continues to stare at Namjoon's mouth.

Namjoon smiles wide and Jeongguk could swear his incisors were sharper than before. As he runs his tongue along the bottom edge of one pointed tooth, Jeongguk's heart gallops behind his ribs.

"Not a tease," Namjoon says with a snarl, sharp smile remaining on display. "But it would come with a price."

Jeongguk swallows thickly, gaze stuck on Namjoon's devilishly inviting mouth. "And wh-what is the price?"

Rather than respond, Namjoon shuts off the ignition. "Follow me," he commands as he gets out of the car, and for a split moment, Jeongguk's body pulls toward the driver's seat before correcting and opening the passenger side door.

Namjoon rounds the hood of the car and approaches a large, angular house set back in tall, spiky trees that appear massive in the pitch dark. Although there are other houses around, there is a feeling of seclusion as Jeongguk follows Namjoon down a short path and up a set of cement steps that lead to the side of the home rather than the front of it.

"Are you scared?" Namjoon asks over his shoulder.

Shadow closes in the further they walk. Jeongguk wants to say no, and he is disappointed when his mouth utters, "A little."

Namjoon punches a long passcode into a keypad, then pulls the massive wooden door open, holding out his hand as if to invite Jeongguk to enter. Only Jeongguk cannot enter, because his instruction was to follow.

"If I break the spell will you run?" Namjoon asks with a playful lift of an eyebrow.

"No," Jeongguk answers plainly. Where would he even go?

With a snap of Namjoon's fingers, Jeongguk's shoulders quickly droop and his body adjusts to the natural force of gravity that holds him. He takes in a deep breath, feeling his lungs fill painfully as his dry eyes blink away the last of the tears that had formed. Jeongguk is able to weigh whether or not he wants to enter this man's home, and even though he is certain that Namjoon is not entirely human, he finds he does not care.

So, with another deep breath, Jeongguk steps forward, into the dark space. He can hardly see what is in front of him, but he takes a few more steps and begins to toe out of his loosely laced boots, shaking his ankles until they hit the floor with a hollow thunk, one after the other, then bending to remove his socks, as well, worried they might stink.

Namjoon's home seems to come alive as the man walks deeper through the foyer and into a large living room. Sconces light on their own – faint golden glows that illuminate just enough but keep the space somewhat dark. The walls have deep red wallpaper with dark wood wainscoting, and there are large portraits hung throughout the space, all of which look like Namjoon painted during various artistic periods throughout history.

"This is…" Jeongguk mutters, eyes trailing from a faded image of Namjoon painted somewhat crudely over yellowed parchment to a clearer painting of Namjoon dressed as a nobleman in a style that would be centuries more recent than the last, but centuries older than the one they live in, now.

"Impressive?" Namjoon asks.

Jeongguk shakes his head, stopping in his tracks to look at his host fully. "Weird. This is fucking weird."

Namjoon smiles widely, standing tall before Jeongguk – as beautiful as he is terrifying. Jeongguk wants to lean close and run his hands over the man's chest and push away the lapels of his expensive jacket.

"I suppose it is quite weird," Namjoon responds, gaze becoming somewhat sad. "Seeing all and surpassing everyone I have ever come to know…hiding away as a monster…all of it is, indeed, quite weird."

Although Jeongguk is certain that he has full control of himself, the tingle persists, settling at the base of his spine and spreading a curious, eager warmth throughout. "Make me into a monster like you," he utters without really considering what he asks for.

Namjoon squints, gaze curious, almost mocking. “Do you know for what you ask, little one?”

And, sure, Jeongguk could wager a guess, but all he responds with in the moment is a petulant utterance of, “I’m basically the same height and build as you.”

With a hum, Namjoon takes a step forward, causing Jeongguk's entire body to react. He feels like cornered prey as his hips twist and he backs into the wall, heel hitting polished wood as a brass sconce scrapes the side of his head. Namjoon truly is only a bit taller but he looms over a cowering Jeongguk as he stands his full height, elongating his spine to look down at him.

"Yes, you are a sizable match in many ways," Namjoon says softly, raising a hand to gently detangle Jeongguk's hair from the elaborate sconce. "But I have lived lifetimes before finding you. Dynasties have risen, fallen, and faded into obscurity, and I have seen all. I could snuff your life out in the blink of an eye, like a tiny little rodent."

The absurdity in Namjoon's statement makes Jeongguk want to laugh, only he finds all he can do is snicker before something in Namjoon's presence makes his mouth rest. He has already experienced the man's magic…could he be telling the truth?

"Do it," Jeongguk urges, eager to reach out and touch Namjoon but incapable of lifting his arms.

"You don't know what you're asking for," Namjoon responds lowly, eyes appearing sad despite the edges of his lips rising.

"Aren't you lonely?" Jeongguk urges. He has no idea whether he and Namjoon would even get along, or whether they could be sexually compatible, but he is desperate for a life outside the one he has known for so long.

Namjoon smirks and drags his ice cold hands along the curve of Jeongguk's neck, making him shiver. His jacket hangs open, and Namjoon gently pushes the material back, running the backs of his hands down Jeongguk's chest, ribs, abdominals.

"You're so cold," Jeongguk mutters under his breath, watching as Namjoon's gaze follows his own hands. "Cold as death."

"That is correct, little one," Namjoon says, eyes flicking to his. "My own blood has not flowed through my veins for centuries."

Although Jeongguk struggles to wrap his mind around everything Namjoon says, it feels real…sort of. "Are you a zombie?" he mutters half to himself, not fully intending to say the words aloud.

Namjoon's eyes crinkle, his cheeks dimple, and he laughs. He laughs loud and boisterous, sounds echoing throughout dark space, and Jeongguk is certain that he has never seen or heard something more beautiful in his life. With a shake of his head, Namjoon continues to laugh, and Jeongguk stands and waits while the smallest smile creeps over his own lips.

"Not a zombie," Namjoon replies, still shaking his head. "But I am technically undead."

In a flash, Namjoon's expression darkens. His eyes go almost pitch black, and his incisors sharpen before Jeongguk's eyes, confirming that what he saw earlier was not a mistake. The familiar tingle works its way up Jeongguk's spine, only this time, it triggers his fight or flight response. All he can do is freeze.

"Namjoon," Jeongguk mutters as he presses further into the wall, hands shakily grazing over the ridges of wooden panels.

"You seem so eager to know what kind of monster I am," Namjoon responds, leaning close and wafting cold breath that reeks of decaying flowers over Jeongguk's face. "Shall I show you?"

"I—" Jeongguk croaks, voice becoming lost in his throat.

The tips of Namjoon's frigid fingers begin to dig into the skin of Jeongguk's tummy, just above his waistline, by his left hip. He doesn't remember Namjoon having long or sharp nails, but he swears he can feel his skin begin to puncture – he finds he is too afraid to look.

"You…what?" Namjoon prompts, dark eyes pooling with black abyss. "Too frightened to speak?"

Jeongguk's lips tremble, creaking broken sounds that find no resolve. He is absolutely horrified, and more curious than he has ever felt about anything before.

Namjoon lifts a hand, proving that what Jeongguk felt was real – the index and middle fingers have sharp claw-like nails that drip with blood. Jeongguk can feel wet warmth on his left hip, but he does not look; he can only stare as Namjoon lifts his hand to his lips and sucks the blood from his fingers.

The sounds Namjoon makes are borderline pornographic – hums and groans of pleasure. Jeongguk watches intently as Namjoon pulls his fingers from between his inviting lip – as Namjoon's pink tongue pokes out and laps up a drop of blood that has run between his fingers.

He knows he should glance down and assess what Namjoon has done to him, and he practically begs his brain to allow his gaze to move. He almost feels caught in the same trance as earlier, only Namjoon has not commanded anything; how is he trapped in place, unable to look away?

"God, I love that look of fear, confusion, intrigue," Namjoon purrs, voice somehow deeper than Jeongguk remembers. "We should really tend to that wound. Wouldn't want it to kill you."

"Would it?" Jeongguk murmurs, feeling somewhat dissociated from his skin. He does not feel pain, but he can feel the trickle of blood.

Namjoon begins to sink down to his knees, gaze never leaving Jeongguk's. Only when Namjoon settles and sits high, leaning toward where his nails dug deep enough to puncture skin, does Jeongguk see the wound. It does not bleed too badly, but it is leaving a wet black spot on his black pants.

Without a word, Namjoon opens Jeongguk's black denim jacket and pins the fabric to the wall with both palms. Then he leans in and licks a slow, firm path from the waistline of Jeongguk's jeans and over the wound.

Namjoon groans, eyelids fluttering as he licks and sucks. All Jeongguk can do is stare, watching Namjoon's tongue streak deep red before disappearing. Jeongguk cannot deny that it feels good. In fact, the visual of Namjoon on his knees before him, lapping at his skin with such hunger while his dark eyes stay on Jeongguk's face has arousal coursing through his veins just as quickly as oxygen does.

Jeongguk's cock begins to harden, and he decides it is best not to allow the myriad questions and concerns muddy the spell that Namjoon must have him under. One particularly firm flick of Namjoon's tongue makes Jeongguk shiver, and before he knows it, the pleasure he feels is enough to make him sigh out a hint of a moan. This catches Namjoon's attention and makes him grin, lips stained with blood and yet so inviting.

"Please," Jeongguk whispers, fingertips tingling to reach forward but planted to the wall.

"Please…what, little one?"

Without a clue as to what he is asking for, Jeongguk simply watches as Namjoon's hands lift from the wall and begin to rub over Jeongguk's skin, along the hem of his pants, to the fly, where he works the button open. Blood and saliva cover Namjoon's chin, and his ice cold fingers send another shiver down his spine.

Namjoon's eyes fall to Jeongguk's jeans – undoubtedly to the bulge that lifts the fabric – then he glances back up, grin widening with his sharp white teeth on display. He scrapes his tongue along his teeth before asking, "That turned you on?"

Jeongguk could swear Namjoon's pupils were brighter than before. No longer are they deep black pools, shining a rich umber that appear outlined in red – a trick of the light, Jeongguk surmises – and making him more alluring than ever.

All Jeongguk can do is nod, mouth too heavy and dry to make coherent sound. That did turn him on, and he is terrified of what it could mean for him.

In a blink, Namjoon is standing before him. Jeongguk startles, bumping his head into the sconce and wincing from the pain. Namjoon's chin is still smeared pinkish-red, and his breath smells like decaying flowers and iron.

"Do I scare you, little one?"

Jeongguk's exhale trembles from his lips, and his voice is barely audible as he says, "You know you scare me."

"Do you like it?"

Jeongguk doesn't give himself a chance to mull it over. "Sort of."

"I can scare you more if you would prefer."

Although he is certain that he should not be asking leading questions to someone who has proven himself to be a literal monster, Jeongguk swallows thickly then asks, "Why would you want to do that?"

Namjoon licks his lips and hums, putting on a show of thinking over his response. Then he leans in close to Jeongguk's ear, groaning through his words. "There is something about the way your blood courses through your veins when you are afraid that makes it taste…so…sweet."

Jeongguk's fight or flight impulse returns, and he tenses. Suddenly he wants to run far, far away from Namjoon. Worse, he thinks that he would like Namjoon to give chase.

"God, I can smell the fear on you, little one," Namjoon whines, rubbing his nose over Jeongguk's throat. "I'll give you a ten second head start if you want to run."

"Shit," Jeongguk mutters, suddenly unglued from the wall, limbs relaxing only to tense back up again. He was definitely just under Namjoon's spell, and he had no clear confirmation of it while it happened.

"Ten…" Namjoon says with a grin, taking a large step backward.

Jeongguk looks around the darkened space, unsure where he could even go.

Then Namjoon lifts a brow and cocks his head to the side as if silently asking Jeongguk what he is waiting for as he says, "Nine…"

Jeongguk runs to the right, deeper into the large house, blinking in the darkness while he attempts to get his bearings. There is no way he could hope to fight Namjoon off, so he does not attempt to go to the kitchen to search for anything sharp or heavy to use as a weapon. Not that he wants to fight Namjoon off, but a voice in the back of his head is telling him that he should.

Namjoon's voice echoes from behind him, calling, "Eight!"

Stairs come into view and Jeongguk storms upward, taking two at a time in the darkness, tripping over himself at the top landing and stumbling before pummeling shoulder first into a wall.

"Seven!"

There is a faint golden glow that comes from the far end of a long hall and Jeongguk runs toward it, bare feet sliding along hardwood and stomping onto carpeting. He can vaguely make out more portraits and photographs lining the walls, as well as closed and open doors.

"Six!"

Jeongguk slams his open palms into the door, which is cracked a few inches, and he stumbles into a bedroom. He is surprised by the furnishings, eyes finding velvet upholstery, intricately carved wood on a large four-poster bed, and matching wooden dressers and vanity.

"Five!"

Briefly, he considers hiding, but if Namjoon is truly able to smell his fear, he does not think he would be able to stay concealed for very long. He turns somewhat uselessly, noting a door that he assumes leads to a closet, lounge chairs deeper in the room, and a large glass door at the far end.

Running toward the door, he considers whether he may be able to jump off the balcony and chastises himself for not just running outside while he was still downstairs. This is how characters are caught in horror films, he reminds himself – by running upstairs instead of outside.

"Four!"

There is absolutely no way Namjoon wouldn't find him, if what he has said is true. But what if it is not? Jeongguk considers that some of what he has said could have been simply to scare him.

With a heavy sigh, Jeongguk pushes back thick, blood red curtains in search of which side of the glass panel is a door. On the far right, there is a black metal handle, with a small metal latch that Jeongguk works open.

"Three!"

Jeongguk feels a surge of excitement as he throws the door open, then instantly regrets his choice as he steps out into the cool night air. The balcony is large and rectangular, made of wrought iron and concrete, and it overlooks a steep hill that leads down to a large pond. Even if he could jump down safely, where the fuck would he go?

Without a proper shirt, he could catch any number of ailments from submerging himself in that water. But all thought of wanting to play Namjoon's game seeps away as Jeongguk's mind screams at him to get the fuck away from this house.

"Two!"

And there is no way in hell he would be able to outrun the man. Namjoon has already proven that he has the ability to move too fast for Jeongguk to even fathom. Fear spikes, and his teeth begin to rattle in the cold night air. All of this seems futile, and yet…he has to try.

Namjoon's voice calling, "One!" is all Jeongguk needs to close the glass door behind him and then run to the edge of the balcony. He hardly thinks of the repercussions as he throws his legs over the railing, one after the other. With a glance over his shoulder, he tells himself that if he can manage to land on his feet and roll down the hill, he has a pretty good chance at survival.

Jeongguk releases his hold on the railing, but rather than falling down, two strong, ice cold hands grip onto his wrists and yank him upward.

"Going somewhere, little one?" Namjoon teases as he effortlessly returns Jeongguk to the balcony.

Jeongguk cries out and trembles in the cold air, taking a step backward as soon as Namjoon lets go of his hands. His lower back hits the railing and he gasps, feeling like cornered prey once more.

"I thought you liked being afraid of me," Namjoon pouts, closing the space between them. "Were we not just playing a game?"

"I do…we are…I just—" Jeongguk cannot get his thoughts straight. Truth be told, as much as he considered flinging himself over the balcony, all he really wanted was for Namjoon to catch him. And catch him, he has. But what does this mean for Jeongguk?

"Are you afraid of death?" Namjoon asks, cocking his head to the side. His reddish-brown eyes seem to glow in the pale light of the moon.

Without hesitation, Jeongguk shakes his head, muttering, "No."

"But you are afraid of me?"

As Jeongguk licks his lips, he watches Namjoon's eyes follow the movement. He wants Namjoon's tongue back on his body, and maybe…just maybe…he wants to become whatever Namjoon is.

"Sort of," he admits.

Namjoon steps so close, Jeongguk can feel the cold radiate from him. But he likes the way Namjoon's thigh slots between his legs. He likes how Namjoon's lips feel as they graze his throat as he says, "Elaborate, my sweet."

"I want to know you," Jeongguk says, eyes fluttering closed. "I want to become like you. But I don't…I don't know what that means."

"Life as you know it will be over," Namjoon breathes against his neck, forcing each of Jeongguk's exhales to shake from his lungs.

Jeongguk is certain that there is nothing more inviting than leaving his life behind. "I know. That's what I want."

Namjoon takes a step back, just far enough that he can look Jeongguk in the eye. For the first time, he appears uncertain, and perhaps even a little sad. His hands gently cup Jeongguk's face, thumb leaving a chilled path over his cheek. "The first few months of this new existence will be full of pain and confusion."

With a scoff, Jeongguk mutters, "My entire life has been full of pain and confusion."

There is understanding in Namjoon's eyes, and Jeongguk questions everything he knows about the man. Could someone so delicate and handsome really be a monster?

But then Jeongguk remembers the wound on his hip, and the superhuman speed, and the way Namjoon can command Jeongguk to think and do exactly what he wants. And he thinks he wants to have that kind of power all to himself.

Without another word, Namjoon takes Jeongguk's hand and pulls him back inside the warmth of his bedroom. He releases Jeongguk's hand to close and lock the sliding glass door, and then he pulls the deep red curtains closed, leaving the two of them in the golden glow of a lamp that sits on the other side of the room, beside the massive bed.

Namjoon turns and begins to make his way toward the bed, arms lifted and moving in a way that suggests he may be unbuttoning his jacket. It takes Jeongguk a moment to follow him, stepping softly onto an intricate rug that covers most of the floor.

"I don't turn people often," Namjoon says as he looks over his shoulder and then begins to shrug out of his jacket. "In fact, I only planned to drain you tonight. If you were interested, I would have wanted to fuck you first, but ultimately, the plan was to leave you to die."

Something about Namjoon's candor is not only oddly comforting, but alluring. Perhaps Jeongguk should be most concerned with the bit about draining him and leaving him to die, but all he finds he can circle back to is the thought of Namjoon wanting to fuck him.

Of course, he saw the way Namjoon licked at his skin, and his jeans are still unbuttoned from Namjoon opening them before deciding he would rather play a sordid game of cat and mouse. So it should really come as no surprise.

"Guess that makes me special," Jeongguk responds somewhat cheekily, feeling there is still a bit of a heaviness that hangs in the air, making him nervous.

Namjoon spins on socked feet with his black button-up shirt halfway undone, nimble fingers working a button just below his pecs. The expanse of bare skin is inviting, and paired with the hungry look in Namjoon's eyes, it sends a thrill through Jeongguk.

"I have been wanting a companion for some time," Namjoon says, "and you do seem like a worthy man. You are very pretty, and I like your attitude."

"A companion?" Jeongguk responds, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He is not exactly a relationship type of guy, and suddenly, he feels a bit apprehensive. "Don't you think that's moving a little fast?"

In a blink, Namjoon is standing before Jeongguk, pushing at the collar of his jacket. Jeongguk actually chuckles at the thought that Namjoon's response to his remark was to quite literally move too fast.

"Once I turn you," Namjoon mutters as Jeongguk's denim is pushed past his shoulders and begins to slide down his arms, "you will depend wholly on me for quite some time. Your hunger and other urges will be so strong that it will physically pain you to exist, and I will be the only tether you will have to any sense of sanity."

With a roll of his eyes, Jeongguk says, "You make it sound so dramatic," all the while his jacket crumples on the rug around his feet.

Namjoon grabs the black tie that hangs around Jeongguk's neck and gently yanks on it, forcing Jeongguk to stumble into Namjoon and place his palms against his cold, muscular chest.

"Not to mention," Namjoon adds with a lift of his brow, "after I fuck you, you won't want to leave my side."

At this, Jeongguk scoffs, rubbing his hands over Namjoon's clothed nipples, which harden to the touch. His shirt hangs open around the waistline, still tucked in and forgotten.

"I've been with a lot of men," Jeongguk challenges, tilting his head to the side. "A lot of men who have made a lot of empty promises. What makes you think you're so special?"

Namjoon's grip on the tie tightens, then releases, and he reaches for Jeongguk's left wrist, gently lifting it to his lips.

"Oh, my darling boy," he mutters, lips dragging over Jeongguk's skin. "I have experienced centuries of pleasure. Those so-called men could not possibly fathom what I have to offer. And, not to mention…" Namjoon lifts his mouth and smiles widely, showing off his sharp teeth in a way that is both too menacing and intriguing for Jeongguk to comprehend. "...I can show you pleasurable pain the likes of which so few living men have ever experienced."

Without warning, Namjoon sinks his teeth into Jeongguk's wrist. The pain is so white-hot intense that Jeongguk's entire body tenses and he attempts to yank himself free. Namjoon's eyes open widely before rolling back, and he moans with pleasure as he retracts the teeth that have left two puncture marks in Jeongguk's skin, and he begins to suck.

Blood play is something that Jeongguk has always done his best to steer clear of, and now this monstrous man has already made him bleed twice. What is more, Namjoon seems to really enjoy the taste of his blood – is this what he meant by draining Jeongguk and leaving him to die? Does Namjoon actually drink blood?

Jeongguk almost misses the tingle that works over his skin, leaving goosebumps and warmth in its wake. "You son of a bitch," he mumbles, knees turning loose like gelatin. "You're charming me again, aren't you?"

With a deep groan, Namjoon releases Jeongguk's wrist. Blood pools in two tooth-sized holes, and he is certain that he would be panicking over the blood loss if it were not for the mind control, or whatever the fuck Namjoon is done to him.

"I prefer the term compulsion, but charm works, too," Namjoon says. He drags his tongue over Jeongguk's wrist, streaking it with red.

"Will you be able to do this to me even after you have made me whatever you are?"

Namjoon smirks, responding, "Sadly, no. My charm only works on humans. Living humans." He drops Jeongguk's wrist, and even Jeongguk is surprised by how heavy his arm feels; he wonders if he is only standing because Namjoon has somehow commanded his limbs to do so.

"I like the charm," Jeongguk mutters, feeling somewhat dizzy and light. "I like how shimmery and floaty it makes me. But I want to experience the fear and the pain. Please."

Jeongguk knows, somewhere in his mind, that what he is asking for might be something he comes to regret. But if what Namjoon says is true – if he really is going to transform Jeongguk into something not human – then Jeongguk wants to feel those intense human emotions one last time.

With a wide grin, Namjoon reaches down and begins to unzip Jeongguk's jeans. "As you wish, my pretty little human," he says, dropping to his knees. "But don't be surprised if it becomes unbearable. Now…let us finish what we started downstairs, shall we?"

He is silent and still as his senses return, watching as Namjoon reaches with sharp nails into the waistband of Jeongguk's briefs and begins to yank his garments down. Slowly, Jeongguk lifts his arm, feeling somewhat distressed that his wrist continues to bleed enough that blood runs down his palm and drips from his fingers.

He even considers whether he should bandage the wound and apply pressure and all of that first aid stuff, but the feeling of Namjoon's ice cold palms gripping onto his half-hard cock has all thought leaving Jeongguk's mind.

"Whoa," Jeongguk mutters, feeling the forces of gravity momentarily disagree with his body as he shifts on his feet in an attempt not to fall. Even from just a single touch, Jeongguk is buzzing and needy for more.

"Ever do temperature play?" Namjoon asks as his hands stroke Jeongguk to fully erect.

Jeongguk is not sure he even knows what that is, and he shakes his head, saying, "No."

"Some find the chill of my mouth to be rather exquisite," Namjoon responds without missing a beat, sitting high on his knees.

The cold, wet drag of Namjoon's tongue along the length of Jeongguk's shaft makes him groan and shiver. It is striking how different it feels, and he struggles somewhat to get his bearings. And then Namjoon opens wide and engulfs Jeongguk's cock, causing him to sob out from how cold but simultaneously wet and inviting his mouth is.

"Fuck," Jeongguk groans, lifting his hands to grip onto Namjoon's lavender hair. "Holy fuck."

Namjoon sucks Jeongguk's dick with a fervor he has never experienced. With seemingly no gag reflex, Namjoon swallows deep and hard, groaning when Jeongguk's hips buck and tremble uncontrollably. Pleasure builds and crashes inside him, and he worries he may cum in an instant.

And then he feels the sharp drag of teeth against his cock, and fear spikes so intensely that he roughly tugs on Namjoon's hair, to no avail. Namjoon stares up at Jeongguk as he presses the tip of his cock far into his throat, causing tears to form in his pretty, dangerous eyes.

He is certain that Namjoon is fucking with him – making him feel the fear that he asked for only moment ago – and he does his best to relax. With his pants and briefs hugging around his ankles, it is not as if Jeongguk would be able to go anywhere, anyway; Namjoon more or less has him trapped, as always.

Namjoon hums deep as his eyes flutter closed and he slurps and sucks, picking up speed. He wraps his hands around Jeongguk's hips and manually rocks Jeongguk against him, forcing him to fuck his mouth. Jeongguk finds the rhythm with his hips, though the pleasure is so overwhelming, he is certain that he will bust very soon.

"Oh, god," Jeongguk moans, head lolling back while he continues to hold Namjoon by the hair. "I'm gonna cum."

As he chases his high, his hips rock faster, and Namjoon accommodates without any trouble, slurping and sucking and humming to the rhythm of Jeongguk's body. Even as flashes of Namjoon's terrible superhuman speed and affinity to lick his bleeding wounds play through his mind, Jeongguk only becomes more aroused rather than disgusted, pushing him over the edge.

Namjoon swallows deeply the moment Jeongguk opens his mouth to croak out a warning that only falls from his lips as a moan. He cums hard, whimpering and sobbing as his body bends at the hips and threatens to topple over. Somehow, Jeongguk remains on his feet, hands sliding down to Namjoon's shoulders to anchor himself up.

When Namjoon finally releases his cock, Jeongguk is relieved to find there is no blood. His relief is quickly dashed, however, when he notices red streaks in Namjoon's hair and realizes his wrist is still bleeding. Not only that, but he feels incredibly dizzy, and he is certain that it cannot be entirely from how talented Namjoon is at sucking dick.

As Jeongguk lightly lifts his left arm and watches blood trickle past his fingers, he sighs. He should really be more concerned about bleeding to death, and he wonders if Namjoon has compelled him not to care.

"On the bed," Namjoon instructs as he stands and finishes untucking and unbuttoning his black dress shirt. "I want to enjoy you while you're still warm."

Jeongguk grumbles something under his breath that even he is uncertain of, then stumbles forward, forgetting that his pants are still snug around his ankles. He reaches for Namjoon, who takes hold of his non-bleeding arm, and uses him as leverage to step out of his right pant leg and then his left.

Wearing only the black tie around his neck, Jeongguk shuffles over to the bed, placing his palms against cold black satin and hoisting himself up. He is definitely woozy, and he practically falls face-first onto the blanket before crawling to where he surmises is the center.

The mattress dips and Jeongguk is shoved down against the bed, gasping as he uselessly tries to find purchase against the sheet. Cold hands press his ass and spread him wide before an even colder tongue laps over his hole, making Jeongguk tremble and sob.

Namjoon is rough with the way he prods Jeongguk open, barely giving him time to adjust before stretching him further. Jeongguk would beg for him to slow down if he weren't so enthralled with the way Namjoon handles him, and he wonders once again if he is charmed by the monster, as well.

"So pliant and tight," Namjoon groans. "And so warm."

Jeongguk loses track of which ice cold appendage or muscle prises him open, occasionally feeling one wetter than the others. It isn't until Namjoon shoves him roughly onto his back that Jeongguk watches a beautifully nude monster in the form of a human man spread his thighs nice and wide and begin to spear him on his thick, frigid cock.

When barely a sound louder than a croak comes from between Jeongguk's lips, Namjoon pouts mockingly, whining, "Awe, don't die just yet, little one; give me one more orgasm first."

All Jeongguk can do is lay and take what Namjoon gives him, barely capable of moving his own limbs. The bed is soaked with blood that he knows has come from his wrist, and although Namjoon's cock feels incredible inside him, he is unsure whether his own cock is hard at all.

"Fuck," Namjoon groans as he leans forward with one hand anchored against the bed. He looks impatient as he lifts his other wrist to his mouth and pierces his teeth into the flesh.

Jeongguk gasps at the sight, certain that now they are both doomed; surely they cannot both survive puncture wounds to their arteries. Never mind everything Namjoon said earlier about surviving centuries, and all that.

Namjoon, on the other hand, only seems mildly inconvenienced as he holds his wrist above Jeongguk's face and allows his blood to drip down onto his mouth.

At first, Jeongguk flinches, disgusted by the ice cold, thick and brassy blood that drops onto his lips and chin. He closes his lips tight in the hope of keeping any of the liquid from seeping in. But then he gets a taste of the blood, and everything changes.

Instantly, Jeongguk feels a pull to Namjoon that seems to take him by storm. He needs the blood, and he needs it now – of that, he is certain.

Jeongguk reaches up with weak hands and grips onto Namjoon's hand and arm, tugging the bleeding wrist down to his lips. With an amused chuckle, Namjoon complies, giving Jeongguk what he needs while continuing to fuck into him.

The combination of drinking blood from Namjoon's wrist while getting fucked by him feels like there is glitter shimmering in his bloodstream, alighting every blood vessel. Arousal crashes more intensely than it had before, and Jeongguk not only feels healed from his earlier wound, but he feels strong.

The blood also tastes better than anything Jeongguk has ever sampled before, and he is desperate to get his fill, eyes rolling back as he moans and sucks and moans some more. He feels fucking drunk.

Namjoon is a mess of groans and whimpers, and he begins to yank his wrist away from Jeongguk, who grips tightly with both hands as if his life depends on it. He is certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that without this blood, he may die.

"Enough, little one," Namjoon grits, clearly struggling as his hips continue their assault, smacking sounds echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet room. Before, Jeongguk could swear he heard and felt the pounding of his own heart, but now there is nothing.

Jeongguk finally releases his hold, moaning and sobbing through the quick, dizzying build and crash of an orgasm. Without warning, he sprays cum on his tummy, only to feel the pleasure build and build once again.

"Yes, that's it," Namjoon moans, reaching to cradle Jeongguk's head, which lolls uselessly against the satin sheet, "I want you to cum again."

Namjoon grips onto Jeongguk's thighs, spreading him impossibly wider, and fucks him at a pace so punishing, he worries Namjoon's cock might burrow too deep inside him. Briefly, he considers begging for a break, but the feeling is so euphoric, he only teeters on the edge of overstimulation without fully plunging over.

But then he begins to black out. Little blips of time and space at first, before he wonders if he is imagining things, entirely. Jeongguk blinks his heavy eyelids open to find Namjoon appearing like some kind of beast from hell with long, sharp teeth and glowing red eyes, fucking him with a fervor that almost feels like hatred.

And then he imagines his chest being clawed open. The pain is dreadful, but he is also being fucked so good, he is incapable of reconciling the two feelings. He even thinks that perhaps all the blood in his body erupts from his chest cavity in one final, harrowing tug of strong cold hands ripping him at his ribs like an animal carcass.

And then he wakes up.

He feels no pain or fatigue as his eyes blink open. In fact, he feels more invigorated and alert than he has in all of his life. There is nobody in the bed beside him, and as he glances around, he realizes that it must be dark outside, which begs the question of whether it is the same night, or whether he has fucked and slept well into the following night.

The events of his night with Namjoon are so eerie, that as they seep in and he begins to remember what happened, he almost feels confused. Certainly none of that could have been real, but he clearly remembers the man existing, and he has woken up in a bed that must belong to Namjoon.

Jeongguk sits up and stretches his limbs, pleased with how incredible he feels. He thinks that he could run a marathon and hardly break a sweat with the energy that courses through him, and he surprises himself with how it takes hardly any exertion at all to toss the comforter aside.

Discarded on the floor are his jeans, briefs, and jacket, and folded on the nightstand appears to be his tie. However, Jeongguk decides that he is feeling brazen, and he stands from the bed and heads for the door in the nude. He feels so invigorated that he wants to find Namjoon and entice him into bending him over whichever surface they encounter first and fucking him until he is dizzy.

As Jeongguk makes his way out of the master suite and down along the second floor hallway, he becomes aware of two things simultaneously. The first is the smell, and the second is the sound.

Just before the top landing of the stairs, to the right, there is a door cracked open and a light on inside, and without giving it any thought whatsoever, Jeongguk knows that what he senses is coming from that room, so he picks up his pace and walks a little quicker, feet padding over a soft rug that lines the center of the hallway.

Nothing can prepare Jeongguk for what he walks in on when he opens the door, nor can it ready him for the way the scene makes him feel.

In the dead center of a rather small, dimly lit room, is a nude person restrained by the wrists and ankles to a large wooden X. Blood pours from the person's left wrist and arm, and Namjoon stands off to the side, to the right of the person, also nude with blood covering his chin.

Before Jeongguk can make his presence known, Namjoon's eyes are on him, and his grin is wide. "Hello, my little fledgling," Namjoon calls somewhat menacingly as he turns his body fully to Jeongguk and opens his arms wide and invitingly.

Jeongguk should be horrified, but instead he is filled with an overwhelming need to taste. He shuffles forward, almost robotically, and approaches Namjoon, slotting himself against his side, beneath one of his open arms. And then he begins to lick the blood from Namjoon's chin.

The person restrained to the X groans – the sound that Jeongguk is certain he heard earlier – and rather than filling him with the urge to save or protect the person, Jeongguk finds he almost wants to mock the person and make them produce even more desperate sounds. In fact, Jeongguk finds that more than anything, he wants to rip the person's skin open and drink all of their blood.

"I trust you slept well?" Namjoon asks sweetly as Jeongguk finishes lapping the blood from his chin and turns his attention to their captor.

"I did," Jeongguk mutters, surprised by the quality of his own voice. He sounds dreamy, almost as if he is put under yet another one of Namjoon's spells, only this time, all he can focus on is the blood that trickles down the stranger's arm.

Namjoon's fingertips on Jeongguk's chin and throat no longer feel cold, yet Jeongguk shivers to the touch as Namjoon asks, "And how do you feel?"

Moments ago, Jeongguk felt more alive than ever before, but now—

"Hungry."

To simply say he feels hungry is an understatement, but Jeongguk is so wholly enthralled by the wriggling person captive before him, it is all he can express.

Fingertips push back at the hair around Jeongguk's forehead and neck in a delicate motion that makes him swoon for blood even more. Is this his life now? To crave and to drink and be loved? Is Namjoon really the monster he says he is?

"Feed, my darling. Drink until you feel their pulse still."

A strange pain overtakes Jeongguk's mouth, and he quickly reaches to his gums to feel the impossible – his incisors are sharp, just as Namjoon's had been. With a gasp, he turns to Namjoon, startled. What strange ritual has taken place? Has he already begun to change? Is he already dead?

Namjoon cups the end of Jeongguk's chin and smiles softly, asking, "What are you waiting for?"

Jeongguk has so many questions that swirl and dizzy him, but the only thing he can bring himself to care about is that tangy, inviting scent of blood. He stands high on his tippy toes and reaches for the person's wrist, but Namjoon presses a hand over Jeongguk's chest, keeping him from reaching with his lips.

"The neck is so much better, my little darling." Namjoon reaches to tap his sharp fingers on the side of the throat. "Sink your teeth in right here, where you can see their heart beating."

Without hesitation, Jeongguk steps forward, grips the captor by the hair and roughly moves their head to the side. He can see the pulse beating against their skin – can hear the sound of their heart as if its squeeze and relax were being amplified straight into Jeongguk's mind. When he leans in close, dragging his lips over the skin, there is an alluring scent that seems so indescribably human that pulls him closer.

Jeongguk sinks his teeth into the skin of the person's neck just as he had watched Namjoon sink his teeth into his own wrist, feeling a spark of arousal as the person whimpers and sobs. It takes him by surprise how much he has to really dig his sharp teeth into the flesh, but once it breaks, the blood pours into his mouth. So much, in fact, that he gasps and feels it run down his chin.

It takes Jeongguk a moment to realize he needs to pull his teeth from the puncture wounds to properly drink from the skin, but once he does, he feels every inch of himself burst and bloom with life. How could Namjoon call himself undead when this is the most energized he has ever felt?

Jeongguk can feel the heartbeat against his lips – can feel as it slows. The captive continues to wiggle and cry out, but it is impossible for them to match Jeongguk's strength as he languidly sucks and licks at the pouring blood. He even decides he has had his fill before their heart has a chance to stop.

"All done, my darling?" Namjoon asks, taking Jeongguk by the chin and licking over his neck and his lips and anywhere the blood may have been spilt.

Jeongguk smiles and shrugs, saying, "You can finish them," and steps aside to watch Namjoon take his place at their neck. Blood pours from the wound down the dip of their clavicle and chest, and Namjoon licks a streak leading to their wounds, groaning as his lips close over the holes.

Something about this visual makes Jeongguk desperate to feel Namjoon on and inside him – makes him want Namjoon to rip him apart and piece him back together again. Despite feeling sated, he also yearns so desperately to be fucked and adored and touched and tasted.

Namjoon must sense it – or, perhaps, knows the way he must feel – and he steps away from the body that hangs lifelessly and smiles with blood-stained lips as he closes the space between their bodies to bring Jeongguk in for a kiss.

Every cell of Jeongguk's body yearns for Namjoon. In an act of desperation, Jeongguk spins out of Namjoon’s hold and places his palms against the wall near the open door leading to the hallway. He pushes his ass out and glances over his shoulder, batting his lashes and asking, "Please?"

Namjoon drops to his knees and wastes no time tongue-fucking Jeongguk until he is whimpering and begging for more. Jeongguk must still be stretched from before, because Namjoon presses his cock in nice and deep without much preparation and grips Jeongguk by the neck as he carves him open, bowing Jeongguk's back so their faces touch.

"All mine," Namjoon growls as he fucks Jeongguk so hard he fears his spine might just snap. "My pretty little fledgling, I will never let you go. All you need in this world is me. All you are in this world is mine."

"Yours," Jeongguk babbles between sobs and broken consonants, speeding toward orgasm as his body struggles to keep up with the myriad sensations that overwhelm.

In between moments of blissful pleasure come fierce, sharp moments of confusion, pain, and a thirst so unlike anything Jeongguk has ever experienced. It is as if he blacks out occasionally and returns a fiendish monster whose only drive is to kill, kill, kill!

Namjoon placates him at times, pushing his buttons to make him more devilish – more angry. He fills Jeongguk's mind with a distrust for humans and teaches him how to lurk in the shadows and hunt.

"When you learn to control your urges better," Namjoon assures, balls-deep in him beside two corpses in a dark alleyway with Jeongguk's leg slung over his hip, "I will teach you how to blend into society better."

Jeongguk has no idea how much time passes, but he lives only in darkness, only to feed on the blood of living humans, only to serve and please Namjoon. He feels frustrated, confused, and angry with Namjoon, who seems to lavish Jeongguk's unfettered need to be by his side.

Despite the overwhelming pleasure and insatiable appetite Namjoon has for fucking him, Jeongguk feels trapped both in his need, and in his desire, to stay by Namjoon's side.

"The urges will pass, my darling fledgling," Namjoon promises against his lips, hand tugging Jeongguk's cock until he screams out Namjoon's name. "Until then, I will take such good care of you. All you need in this world is me. All you are in this world is mine.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!!!! 🦇🩸🧛‍♂️🍂🎃👻😈💀 HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!

i hope you had fun with this. please do not ask for a part two lmao my brain is mush and i refuse to perceive these two further. i have too many eggs in too many baskets!!!

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS MAKE ALL THE DIFFERENCE, AND LIKES ARE SUPER APPRECIATED, TOO!!! 💜💜💜

no tag list for dead dove contents! thanks for understanding!!!

#namkook #namjoon smut #jungkook smut #namjoon scenarios #jungkook scenarios #namjoon vampire #bts horror #bts smut #bts vampire #bts dead dove #fic: fledgling #bts fantasy & fangs

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