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jvngkook97 · 2 years

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Sucker for Love

synopsis; in which your best friend happens to be a vampire and the only time he’s able to be himself in the world is during Halloween night. OR you’ve been in love with your best friend for a long ass time and want him to bite you for a change and not a random person, which for some reason, he refuses to do. they say love hurts, and damn it all that you want it too.

pairing; vampire!jungkook x human!reader

genre; angst, fluff, humor, horror, smut, f2l, vampire au

warnings; cursing, jealousy, blood, violence (non explicit), death (non explicit), horror movie tropes, bad jokes, VAMPIRE KOO cause yes that’s a whole ass warning in itself CMON, a few familiar faces make an appearance, there’s no smut in this chapter but there will be in a future one so be sure to read the warnings carefully in order to avoid reading something you’re uncomfortable with pls and ty

rating; 21+ MINORS DNI

w/c; 7,101

a/n; y’all knew it was coming, it was only a matter of time. consider this both a ‘happy jungkook day’ and ‘Halloween’ story submission in one. SORRY IT’S LATE. decided to split this into two chapters cause I like the way this one left off. hopefully, that one will be out soon. like + reblog if you enjoyed. don’t be a silent reader! <3 feedback is always appreciated and helps keep this writer motivated.

networks; @ficscafe, @thebtswritersclub, @btshoneyhive, @kflixnet

01. 02. 03

“You are not going out dressed like that.”

“I—Excuse me? This is literally the only night I can go out like this!”

He tugs on the front of his white, nearly see-through, frilly long and loose blouse with a gusto. His face is morphed into one of disbelief as he stares into your dead panned expression.

“No. I see you in that outfit every single day. Are you not aware of the time difference?” Your arms are crossed, hip jutted out that makes the slit in the side of your costume widen even more. As much as he fights it, he can’t help but let his eyes flicker to the overly exposed skin as his tongue darts out for a split second to wet his lips and play nervously with his lip ring.

When his eyes meet yours he knows you’ve caught him in the act, if not for the elegant yet sultry way you walked towards his figure with a smirk adorning your red painted lips. The cape you were wearing framed you perfectly and only accentuated your beauty even more. As much as he hates to admit it, considering what your costume of choice pertains too. Them. His entire body cringes inwardly.

Your face rises to meet his, a feat that normally has you on your tip toes to complete the action, but not tonight. Tonight, your feet are clad in ruby red heels that give you the perfect amount of height and compliment your costume of choice for the evening — little red riding hood — knowing full well how much it would rile the centuries old vampire in front of you.

“And yet you have to choose a costume from a storybook that has to do with–,” his face scrunches, nose crinkling, and the corner of his lip rising into a small snarl that exposes one long, sharp, fang. “–wolves? I mean, really y/n?”

“What can I say? Hairy bodies are a turn on.”

A loud snort from him. Laughter bubbles in your throat. One coffin shaped, manicured hand lays over his chest. If he weren’t the undead, you have no doubt that it would be beating as erratically as yours currently is due to the close proximity, or maybe that’s just you and your ridiculous crush you’ve had on the vampire for a long time now.

Unbeknownst to you, the sound was like music to the vampire’s ears as he placed one massive tattooed covered hand over yours to squeeze it gently, it meant you had blood pumping through your veins, the vital organ still going strong.

You were still here.

You were still with him.

You were still alive.

Not like on the night where he first found your pale, nearly lifeless body all those years ago.

‿෴🦇෴‿

Then ~ Wednesday, October 31st, 2018 11:30PM

“Some friends they are.”

You crossed your arms tighter around your chest, attempting and failing to secure some semblance of body heat from the chilly, autumn night air. Leaves rustled in the biting wind, littering empty streets underneath the light of the full moon as you slowly and quite wobbly made your way back to your studio apartment. You regretted taking that extra shot before leaving the party, almost as much as you regretted entrusting your supposed friends with letting you know when they were leaving. Now here you were, all alone on Halloween night.

Your horror loving mind drifted to the many movies that started out on a night just like this, one’s where you previously scolded the character for making such a foolish life choice. Even going so far as saying that they deserved to be murdered brutally for their careless act. Look at you now, doing the same exact thing you once admonished with a mocking laugh at the tv screen right before the killer strikes and–

A twig snapping had your head whipping to the side, yet you saw nothing. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, however, as if there was someone or something out there watching you, tucked just out of sight behind the line of trees that led to the woods at the edge of town.

“Oh no.” You raised your voice to the dark woods around you with sarcasm. “I sure hope there aren’t any sexy vampires looking for prey out here or heaven forbid a captive!” Shaking your head at your own sense of humor, you snickered, opening your mouth to spew some more dark comedic gold that gets silenced by yet another twig snapping but this time it was closer.

Much closer.

Fuck.

Picking up your once slow pace, your heels clicking on the paved, stone walkway in a frenzied haste do you hear a more fear inducing sound from right behind you. A voice.

“When I let go, run for your life.”

It’s only when the disembodied voice breathlessly caresses the shell of your ear, do you notice how badly you’re shaking. Let alone the fact that there’s a a very pale, lanky, hand on your shoulder. True to their word, they let you go.

And you run for your fucking life.

Now you understood why those many characters would run straight into dark woods, rather than continue down the lit up street. In the woods, you could hide. On the streets, you were open and vulnerable. Wasn’t much of a tough decision when you’re the one being pursued.

Another thing you now understood, how it was so easy to–

The heel of your shoe embedded itself into the soft, wet soil and latched itself in between two branches sticking out of the ground with perfect precision and you tripped. Your arms flung themselves out haphazardly in a desperate attempt to catch your unprecedented fall. Hands, arms, legs and knees becoming scraped by various rocks and branches that poked out from beneath the ground.

Your hands immediately went to the strap of your heel and with shaky hands you barely managed to unbuckle the impromptu foot restraint, freeing yourself and pushing your exhausted body back up into a standing position. Coming to the conclusion you were better completely barefoot now, you freed your other foot from the speed hindering heel and chucked it angrily to the side. A heavy mist now clung to the woods, halting what little moonlight remained from passing through the already thick foliage of the cluster of trees around you.

Straining your eyes through the mist, you saw a shadow stood in the distance, completely still except for the wave of a hand. A whimper escaped your mouth, lips trembling and eyes watering. They had found you, but you won’t be giving up that easily.

Wiping your eyes in order to see clearly, you postured yourself in a position to run and bolted out of there, dodging branches and bushes along the way that only cut you up even more until you stumbled into an open area in the woods that housed an abandoned building.

A very creepy, dark, decrepit, seemingly haunted abandoned building.

Well, shit.

Checking the woods behind you, you see a blur making its way towards you and you realize that once again, you have no choice but to make the absolute worst choice possible.

You needed to go into the building.

Steeling your resolve into not dying, you thrust open the rusty door that was almost falling off its hinges at the years of decay and not being used. The screeching it emanated rivaled that of a nail on a chalkboard and your entire body cringed. Pushing your way into the darkness, you blindly felt for a wall to help maneuver your way through.

During your slow ascent into the building, does the door suddenly slam behind you, causing you to jump and let out a shrill shriek. Along with the deafening slam do you hear what sounds like a lock clicking into place.

What the actual fuck was going on here? Was this all actually real or a really elaborate prank set up by your shitty friends? Whatever it was, you weren’t having it anymore. Time to do what you do best when you’re scared – use your sense of humor.

“This is very funny.” You announce to the supposedly empty room around you. The door had locked itself, and you found yourself even moreso alone with little applicable skill to get yourself out of there. “I’m not the protagonist type, I’m more of the comedic best friend character. Now can someone please bust in here and save me?”

Silence. Nothing but eerie silence.

It was worth a shot.

Unlike the blur you saw in the woods, this time you saw more of a wispy white fog begin to appear on the opposite side of the room. It cast a faint glow, more than enough for you to utilize it and sprint down the hallway that made itself visible due to your ghostly accomplice.

Bare feet padded quickly along, and you tried your best not to look behind you just knowing that you wouldn’t like what you saw. So, instead, you plowed through the various hallways that now felt like an endless maze with how alike they appeared. The doors that lined the hallways were the same as well, solid except for a thinly shaped window that was planted in the middle within eyesight of what’s deemed ‘normal height’ for a human. You wondered what this place was used for, but thought best not to investigate and trouble yourself further with details.

The only thing you should be concerned about is getting out of this place alive.

The heavy fall of boots echoed across the halls that made you pause in your step to listen closer and decipher which direction it was coming from. Not having an inkling of the layout of this building, you realized trying to figure it out was futile and instead continued on. It wasn’t until you heard the footfalls sound in the hallway you just exited from did you begin searching for a door that was unlocked in order to hide.

Jiggling several handles, you found they were all locked. You just about gave up hope when you saw a door at the end of the hallway that was cracked open. Quietly running towards the door, the boots crept closer. Just as you slid your body through the crack of the door and shut it all but a sliver so you could peek through, did the mystery predator reveal themselves.

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes collecting pools of liquid that trailed down your face as you tried your damndest not to make a sound as they inched closer and closer to your hideout.

They were wearing all black clothing, the only pop of color coming from the hideous stark white mask that was littered with specks of something you couldn’t quite make out due to the distance, the mask that covered their face successfully hiding their true identity. As they came within a yard away from the door, did you come to the grim conclusion that this person had what looked to be dark, red splatters of an unknown substance all over their clothes and mask.

Something that was scarily akin to blood.

Closing your eyes, your hands covered your mouth in a fruitless attempt to stifle the whimpering that wanted to come out from the sheer terror that coursed through your veins. Every passing moment felt eternal. And you couldn’t tell if closing your eyes made it better or worse.

You didn’t know if hiding would be the ultimate factor in you getting out alive or not, but it was the only idea you had left. As you pushed yourself further into the corner of the room, your back slid down the wall in relief once the footsteps faded.

Taking a deep breath, your head fell on your knees. With a shaky exhale you let out a minuscule puff of laughter. You were tired, your body was tired. It wasn’t till you felt you had a moment of safety did your body wind down from its adrenaline rush and now all you felt was the crash that comes after it. You allowed this feeling for only a fleeting second, then hoisted your body up and out the door, but not before cautiously poking your head out to be sure the mystery figure was truly gone.

They were. For now.

You stepped out from your safe haven and attempted to make your way back down the hallway from whence you came, hoping you’ll get dumb luck down another corridor and find the exit. Your heart pounded this time, but not from fear. This time, it was pumping with liquid courage through your veins.

Despite your earlier declaration of being the secondary comedic relief, you decided with renewed vigor that you would be the final girl.

Oh, how wrong you were.

There was a sharp pain in the back of your head, your mouth opened in a silent scream that would never come as your body collapsed on the cold, tile floor and you were down for the count. Your body no longer having the energy to fight back, that liquid courage seemingly sucked up in a matter of seconds you just lay there – still. Your eyes struggled to stay open as you blinked them, trying to focus on the white mask that was within your line of sight as the figure knelt down and stroked your forehead, gently pushing the clump of hair that fell in your face away and tucking it behind your ear. The very same ear where you could feel a trickle of liquid slither down the side of your face and off your nose. The last thing you see being red before you closed your eyes for what you thought would be the last time.

Jungkook’s POV ~ The Same Night

He sniffed the air, smelling the faint metallic odor of ‘crimson crack’ as he liked to call it. Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes and honed in on it, letting it take over every one of his senses in order to conclude where the source is coming from. Opening his eyes, they flashed a deep red, before returning back to their usual brown state.

In a flash, he was gone.

When he reappeared, he was standing in front of an abandoned building. His head tilted in confusion, ears perking when they hear the tall tale sign of a human heartbeat. Faint, but there. And it seemed to be getting closer, even a hint louder in its desperate attempt to keep pumping blood, oxygen, life to its human shell.

Interesting.

His hand reached for the door handle, which he promptly brought back to his side and took a step back when he realized the handle was turning on its own and the door began to open. He clasped his hands together in front of his abdomen and waited for the grand reveal of his next meal.

With his centuries of life, he would’ve thought that he saw it all. Apparently, that wasn’t the case. This night, he would have another first.

Seeing you. Smelling you.

Your blood alone caused the saliva in his mouth to pool, the scent making him feel dizzy in a state of euphoria. Body vibrating with the need to get closer to you, to taste you. He nearly pounced, if not for the minor inconvenient detail of your limp body being carried over the shoulder by an all black clothed human male. The mask this male chose was displeasing to the eyes in a sense of it was so gaudy and fake.

The male stiffened upon seeing Jungkook, the hand that clenched the knife that he used to both knock you out and engrave his alias initials into the length of your neck gripped the handle, his knuckles becoming more pronounce as they strained against the leather material of black gloves he was wearing.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Jungkook could tell that the male had anger issues. His voice was devoid of emotion, cold. It made Jungkook chuckle with a deep laugh that had the masked assailant stepping forward in hopes of scaring Jungkook. It only spurred on the laughter more, and made the male even more angry.

“Shut the fuck up, you freak! You wanna die?”

“Do you?” The laughter ceased as if by a flip of a switch. The wind blew between the two males where only one couldn’t suppress the shiver that went down their spine. The masked male thoughtlessly threw your unconscious body onto the ground next to him, a loud ‘thump’ followed shortly after your weighted body hit the solid dirt of the woods. He then poised himself with the bloodied knife raised in front of him, ready to strike with the intent to kill.

Jungkook tsked sardonically.

“Give me the girl and I’ll let you go.”

He thought the deal was good. The masked man did not.

“Fuck you. She’s mine. Get your own, the night’s young.”

“True, it is. But I’m not. And I’m easily annoyed. So, I’ll give you one more chance, human. Give me the girl.”

The masked male blamed his obscured sight from the small holes that the mask granted him, the material only making it harder for him to see Jungkook clearly. Though, he swears he sees his eyes flash red, but it’s gone within the next blink of his eyes. His gut tells him to run, but his pride prevents him from doing so.

The masked male makes his move, and his knife impales into Jungkook’s chest — directly where his beating heart should’ve been. Except, it wasn’t.

“My turn.”

Jungkook grips the male by his arm and yanks his body until it’s pressed tightly against his, using his other arm to encase the squirming male and prevent him from escaping. The mask falls off to reveal a young face, barely hitting his mid 20s. The amount of fear that is on his face gives Jungkook a sick sense of satisfaction.

“What are you?”

The male whispers fearfully. Jungkook doesn’t answer, and instead grins widely. Both fangs twinkled in the faint moonlight as the male’s eyes widened in horror, only to close moments later as Jungkook sinks his fangs into the male’s neck and begins to drain him of every drop of blood in his body.

Y/N’s POV ~ Moment’s Later

When you come to, you find yourself laying on the dirty earth floor as your nails dig into the soil and it gets stuck underneath. Inhaling a breath – it’s crisp, cool, autumn air. You let out a broken whimper when you realize that you’re alive, but it hurts to move. Your head is at an awkward angle, but you can make out two blurry figures out of your peripheral. One looks limp, and the other looks as if they’re embracing the other in order to keep them standing.

In a way, you were right. Your eyes then dart to the fallen off mask that’s settled a few yards in front of you, and you wonder what exactly happened to your perpetrator for them to let you go. You don’t have time to dwell on it for too long, as the next thing you see is the back of your eyelids as you pass back out. It seems like your mind was awake, but your body still needed some recovering.

The next time you open your eyes you’re laying in a huge bed, in a huge room that looks like you’ve been transported into Dracula’s castle, but you were still in a modern home. The decor and looked ancient and worn, yet surprisingly still in good condition. As you sat up, your body no longer felt drained of energy, and in fact, you felt refreshed and reinvigorated.

Your bare feet hit the cool flooring as you stand up straight. A knock on the closed bedroom door has you flinching back to your previously scared state and you hold your breath as the door slowly opens.

In the threshold of the door stands a very attractive male, who looks like along with this castle, he’s from the world of Dracula. His skin is almost sickly pale, yet his eyes held a natural warmth to them. He just stands there, and doesn’t attempt to step inside once he notices your scared expression.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

His voice is smooth and velvety. Despite not knowing this person and going through the ordeal you were just in, your gut tells you that you can trust them. So, either stupidly or —no, just stupidly — you do.

“I know.”

When he hears your voice for the first time, his stomach does flips. It was in that moment a kind of bond was formed, and you’ve been inseparable since.

‿෴🦇෴‿

Now ~ Monday, October 31st, 2022 7:50PM

His hand can’t help but trace the faint scarring of initials that still resides on your neck to this day. A constant reminder to him and you of the horrific, yet fateful, night you met.

Your eyes close reflexively upon contact and you let out a sigh of discontent, knowing where his mind just wandered to, as does yours.

“Koo, I’m still here. It’s okay.”

Your eyes open to meet his. There’s a pinch inbetween his brows that you just want to rub away with your finger, so you do. He chuckles, the vibration flowing through your own body in waves that has you giving him a warm smile.

“I was doing it again, wasn’t I?”

“You were.”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head to rid of the intruding and unpleasant thoughts and regain focus on the mission for tonight – going out with you on Halloween night to a frat party you were invited to by a brainless jock that Jungkook already hates with a burning passion for catching your attention.

“Shall we go?”

Your eyes narrow into his and you pat his chest, before turning and walking away from him to reach into your bag and pull out an outfit you brought just for him. It wasn’t so much a costume as it was an outfit you just really wanted to see him in.

“Nice try, buddy. But I didn’t forget.” You make your way back over to him with the outfit held out in front of you. “Wear this. No objections.”

He groaned, but resigned to his fate and took the outfit from your outstretched hand. He waves his hand as a motion for you to turn around while he changes. You lift a lone brow at his sudden shyness.

“It’s not like I haven’t seen you nude before.”

He rolls his eyes, then narrows them at yours. You throw your hands up in defeat and make a show of slowly turning around until your back is to him. As you bring your hands back down, one subconsciously falls to the scarred initials on their own and just like Jungkook, some aspects of that night fog the forefront of your mind.

You let out a chortle that catches Jungkook’s attention, his eyes fall immediately to where your hand resides as he zips up the black pants you wanted him to wear, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows he doesn’t have too, you always tend to speak your mind.

“Remember when I thought for a second that you were actually going to hold me captive?”

He does. As does his body, even moreso as he flexes the muscles of his back to shrug on the crimson red bomber jacket that covers the plain, black shirt he’s wearing underneath. Tugging the cuffs of the sleeves down into a comfortable position.

“Yeah. I gave you the benefit of the doubt to just walk out the door, and as soon as I turn my back to you, you stab me.”

You throw your head back in laughter, and he can’t help the quirk of his lip that occurs at the sight and sound of it. There’s no blood pumping through his veins, no warmth to his skin, but still he felt a unique glow when it came to you that was within the depths of his soul. It was hard to describe, and he couldn’t say exactly how it was possible, but it happened. Only when it ever came to you. And for a moment, he felt a sliver of being human again.

“Can you blame me though?” He doesn’t. “Are you almost done?”

“Impatience will be the death of you.”

“I think knives will be the death of me, actually. Maybe some poison.”

He folds his arms across his chest.

“Funny.”

“I thought so.”

“You can turn around now.”

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t want me to wat–,” your words die in your throat as you turn around and take Jungkook in in all his glory. Jesus. You changed your mind. This outfit would be the death of you. Your thighs rub together without your knowing, it makes Jungkook’s nostrils flare for a second, and he stiffens, clearing his throat.

“That bad, huh?” He tries to break the tension that came out of nowhere as you continued to stare at him. It’s like your brain stopped computing he looked that good.

“Oh, shut up. Don’t pretend that you don’t know how sexy and amazing you are.”

The words flew out of your mouth unfiltered, unfaltering, and you weren’t even ashamed. It baffles him how a human could be so truthful. So unabashed.

“Let’s just go.” He’s still stiff as he brushes past you and you catch the whiff of the earthy and musky scent that is just naturally him, it only made the want for him that much more prominent and you trail behind him like a lost puppy.

‿෴��෴‿

Frat House ~ 8:24PM

Even though you two are early, the party is already in full swing. The music is loud, so damn loud, it makes Jungkook’s sensitivity to sound a hinderence in his opinion - but he does his best not to let it ruin the night. Before you even stepped inside, the porch was littered with bodies as a couple seemed to be making out not too far from the entrance of the house. Red solo cups, beer cans and bottles alike were thrown haphazardly in the bushes surrounding the porch.

How could humans be so careless? Jungkook thought with a grimace. Back in his day it was frowned upon, but now it was the new normal. How the times have changed.

His nose crinkled in disgust at the public display of affection that should be withheld for closed quarters, and you just walked by like it was second nature. The front door wasn’t even fully closed, so all you had to do was push it open to gain access. From what you heard, you thought it was going to be a ‘limited access’ party, apparently you heard wrong. It felt like the entirety of the school was present and upon the door shutting behind you two, the cluster of body heat was more than prominent, triggering your slight case of claustrophobia.

Jungkook could sense your distress, his open palm rested securely on your lower back as his thumb rubbed circles in hopes of easing your anxiety. He could feel you tense, then relax. Bending down so his head was next to yours he asked you a question.

“Want to head to the back?”

You nod your head in answer and he guides you both through the crowd. You do your best to smile and wave at those you know so as not to be rude, but in truth, you just wanted to get the hell out of there for now.

“Empty handed? Here!”

A random guy pops up next to you both as you almost make it to the back door from the kitchen, and shoved two red solo cups of an unknown liquid into your hands. He salutes with a dopey smile and saunters off. You presume he’s going to fill more cups for other random guests. He looked familiar now that you thought about it, and you think it has to do with his two different colored eyes, it always wowed you.

Before you know it, you’re both back outside in the night air and it’s easier to breathe. Jungkook swiftly grabs the cup from your hands and dumps it into a bush nearby. You give him a quizzical look as he dumps his as well.

When he focuses his attention back onto your puzzled one, does he explain his reasoning.

“Never drink from a cup that you didn’t pour yourself, you don’t know what could be in it.”

Your mouth forms an ‘O’ shape and you heart palpitates from the level of protectiveness he’s showing. It never fails to get your heart racing.

He smirks knowingly, and opens his mouth to make a flirtatious comment.

“I love how your heart races for–,”

He’s cut off by a letterman jacket and he wonders what the big deal with them are while the guy pulls you into a tight hug with a big grin.

“Y/N! You made it!” His enthusiasm seems genuine as he tightens his hold on you. Not seeming to care in the least bit that he has to bend over awkwardly to accommodate your obvious height difference. It causes a snarl to build within Jungkook’s chest that he fights to suppress so as not to bring unwanted attention to himself.

“Joonie! Thanks for the invite!” Your tone is light and airy, a soft puff a laughter escapes your lips at the death grip he has on you. You savor the hug, returning it in earnest before you mutually let each other go. His hands are on your shoulders as he takes in your costume of choice.

“Little red, hm?” His brow raises and he lets out a bellowing laugh that you can’t help but join in on. You forgot about the inside joke that was made back in your freshman year of college and he makes a playful jeer.

“Am I still the big bad wolf?” He waggles his eyebrows feigning being seductive, and you snort in embarrassment that causes the natural flush in your cheeks to make a show. It was a one time misjudgement when you decided to listen to the gossip of those around you, rather than form your own opinion. Everyone described Kim Namjoon as a heartless, hard headed, quick to temper and pessimistic jock. You would learn, in fact, he was very much the opposite and those who said otherwise just never had the courage to even try and befriend the tall, lovable, giant you now consider a good friend. Their loss.

Jungkook hates it. He hates all of it. What was this talk of being a wolf? He wasn’t one. He was normal. Jungkook would be able to tell otherwise. And why are you acting as if you completely erased his presence from your side like he wasn’t even there. Anger began to rise, and he closed his eyes in order to prevent the red from showing to the humans around him. He should’ve worn his contacts, but you encouraged him to just ‘be himself’ whatever that means.

Jealousy. A ridiculous human emotion that unfortunately can still occur with vampires.

He loathed it. Like he loathed this human boy.

He began to mimic the timing of breathing as a form of meditation, regaining his sanity and self back just in time for you to acknowledge him and introduce him to your male companion.

“Joon, I’d like you to meet my good friend Jungkook. Jungkook, this is Namjoon. He’s the host, and my science partner.”

Namjoon scoffs at your introduction of him.

“Just your science partner, huh? Is that all I am to you? A lab partner that makes sure you pass the class in order to graduate this year?”

You give a feigned moment of silence as if in thought, your finger resting on your bottom lip that slightly parts them in the process. Jungkook doesn’t miss the way Namjoon’s eyes flicker to them upon the innocent action, but you do. All you do is give an over exaggerated wink in reply. He places a hand over his heart and acts hurt.

Seems like this human boy has taken an interest in you. He wonders if you feel the same.

Again. He feels the jealousy build and stiffens, then relaxes though his fists stay clenched tightly behind him. He plasters a fake smile on and interrupts your little flirtatious banter.

“Pleasure.” His hand is outstretched, waiting.

Namjoon just sees it as a polite gesture and takes it with a soft, yet firm grip. He realizes that there’s even a slight height difference with the jock himself as he steps forward towards Jungkook, leaning into the handshake. It takes everything that Jungkook has not to crush every bone in his hand as he relays what is considered normal strength for a human during a handshake.

You watch the two with wary eyes, but inwardly sigh with relief when their hands part and nothing else happens. Maybe they could be friends after all, or so that’s what you hoped.

“Please, by all means. Feel free to take advantage of the beverages and food. Mi casa es su casa, and all that jazz!” Another female party goer slides into Namjoon’s side and places a hand on his chest. Jungkook is surprised when you greet the female with even more excitement. He assumed you would be upset, furious even.

“Natalie! I thought you said you weren’t going to be able to make it?” You gave the girl a mock glare, and she gave a twinkling laugh in return. Namjoon stared down at this ‘Natalie’ with love and adoration. Jungkook was confused.

“I was able to convince my family to postpone leaving until tomorrow so I could congratulate–,” Natalie pats his chest and looks up into Namjoon’s eyes with just as much love, if not more, before continuing. “this guy on his big scholarship!”

Namjoon’s face flushes from the admission. Your mouth drops open in bewilderment. You punch Namjoon hard in the shoulder and he winces.

“Geez! Ow!”

“You jerk! How could you not tell me?!”

“I was going to, tonight!”

You side-hug Namjoon and Natalie and make promises to catch up. Jungkook pretends not to hear when Natalie whispers in your ear about a ‘double date’ and instead acts like the sight of people gyrating against each other is more appealing. It’s not. But something does transcribe whilst he’s staring at the couples that actually know how to dance properly.

Nostalgia washes over Jungkook, like the gentle sway of a tide pulling his conscience to another time, another place. He felt the phantom stirrings of movement where his heart would’ve still been beating back then, the desire to grin and to dance, but could only place the grainiest of images to memory. He couldn’t quite remember what it was that brought him a feeling of such warmth and fondness, but he felt enchanted to stay within that feeling.

Natalie and Namjoon have long since departed, but Jungkook was still stuck in a time long passed. You cautiously place a hand on his cheek, caressing it while gently rubbing your thumb against his sharp jawbone.

“Jungkook? You still with me?”

The glaze in his eyes disperses upon your call of his name, and his eyes instantly lock with your concerned ones. He gives you a faint smile, sucking in a breath to release it and then answers you.

“I’m still here.”

This isn’t the first time this has happened. Jungkook getting lost in the past. He was never afraid to answer any questions you had for him back when he was human, or even when he was turned by a rogue vampire and left to learn the consequences and rewards of being a vampire and immortal all on his own. His life was hard, but it was still life. Something he didn’t treasure until he was no longer alive, and rather just living — existing.

He realizes that he never had a reason to feel alive, until now.

Until you.

He had tried to do what he could to keep you at arm’s length. Your smile was so disarming, you were so genuine, that he couldn’t help but get close to you. Even when knowing it was a bad idea. He didn’t want to fall in love with you. He kept ignoring the intruding bloom in his chest, telling himself that it would wither on its own.

It never did. It just grew.

It grew a forest of flowers within him, the colors so vibrant and the aroma so intoxicating that it was hard not to fall in love with you when it was you who consumed his entire being, his entire soul, or what was left of it.

And you didn’t even know.

‿෴🦇෴‿

You had been at the party for hours now. Talking, mingling, even dancing a little. Much to your amusement and Jungkook’s displeasure.

His hands rested politely on your waist, never once faltering into the danger zone. Your arms were wrapped loosely around his shoulders, hands dangling. A slow song was on, one you never listened to fully due to how slow it was, seeing as you usually only heard it when you were driving your car and as soon as it would come on you would change the station to a more upbeat option to keep you awake. But, you’ll admit, it was growing on you.

Much like the vampire in front of you has over the years of knowing him. His mannerisms, his personality, his way of talking, his way of dressing. You kept every minute detail locked away inside your head, and your unspoken feelings locked inside your heart. Though, as you both stared into each other’s eyes in a way that should’ve been saved for lover’s, you wonder briefly, albeit hopeless romantically – if he might, just might, feel the same way.

Your body is buzzing with all the alcohol you’ve consumed throughout the night, and as you sway to the song, do you realize how much it’s him who is actually holding you up discreetly and leading you. It’s only when he suddenly stops, does your wobbly figure collapse into his taught chest. Your ear lays against where his heart would be, yet you hear nothing. Another stark reminder of the difference between you two, as your heart raced at how close you two were.

He doesn’t say anything, standing still. When you look up from his chest, his gaze is no longer on you, but something in the distance behind you. Following his line of sight, your puzzled expression turns into one of forlorn.

It was another girl, dressed ironically as a female version of Dracula. You nearly scoffed at the coincidence, though you know it can’t be the costume that’s caught his attention, rather – it’s her blood.

“It’s that time of the night, hm?”

Your question lingers, his focus still caught. You can see the red tint begin to take hold, his grip on your waist tightening into a bruising one. Your heart jumps at the sudden sensation, and it’s only then that Jungkook regains his bearings and gives you a look of regret, his hands parting from your waist instantly as if being burned.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I just need–,” his nostrils flare of their own accord, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. He closes his eyes and when they reopen you know for sure the night is over.

They’re blood red. He needs to feed, or risk losing control and slaughtering literally everyone here, including you. And he won’t have that, he refuses to let that happen. He’d sooner throw himself into the sunlight’s blazing rays and turn into nothing but dust than be the reason you die.

For a split second, you almost gain enough courage to tell him to just use you, but you know he’ll say no. He’s never directly stated that you couldn’t be an option, moreso does he just announce when it’s time he needs to leave you to feed. He swears he never kills those he chooses to feed on, having enough control over his emotions and hunger enough to only drink what’s needed and then heal the bite wound with a solid lick of his tongue. After he’s done feeding, he makes sure to leave their body in a safe place until they come to, waking up from what they believe to be just a blacked out moment and they’re on their way back home.

He steps in the direction of the ‘lady of the night’, and your face twists into one of sadness as you say your parting words, doing your best not to slip up as you speak and let the lump in your throat win over.

“Be careful, okay? I guess I’ll—,”you awkwardly looked away and locked eyes with another classmate of yours — Jimin — giving him a tight smile and small wave, before turning back towards Jungkook to finish your statement and are meant with nothing but an empty space.

He was gone.

Surveying the area, do you catch a glimpse of his back, his hand that was once on the small of your back only a couple hours ago, are now on the mystery girl’s as he leads her around the corner and out the side gate, into the night.

“Y/N, hey! Are you by yourself? Want to hang out with me and Yoongi?”

Jimin’s smiling face appears in front of yours. If he notices the way your eyes are rimmed red with unshed tears, he doesn’t comment on it. Just throws a friendly arm around your shoulders to guide you towards his friends. His excited rambling tickles the shell of your ear as he tries to talk over the blaring music, it having changed to a catchy k-pop song that you love cause it reminded you of Jungkook.

The very person you currently wanted to forget, if only for the rest of the night. As you walk up, Yoongi gives you a silent nod in greeting and you reciprocate the action with a small smile.

They don’t leave your side for the rest of the party, and, dare you say, you actually had a good time. The next morning, you realize, maybe too much of a good time.

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hamsterclaw · 1 year

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Blue side

Hoseok's always known you as Namjoon's little sister. One day, he realises you're more than a match for him.

Pairing: Hoseok x F! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Brother's best friend AU, smut, angst

Word count: 7.7k

Warnings: Sex, swearing, fast cars

Jung Hoseok revs his engine as he rolls into the garage, a burst of bravado after a fucking hairy night.

Park Jimin goes to greet him. His sling’s off but he holds his arm up, bent at the elbow, wrist encased in plaster.

Hoseok pushes his door open, climbs out from his low seat gracefully, like he’s done it thousands of times.

He has.

Jimin takes in Hoseok’s appearance, really not that different from when he started the night except that he looks a little more dishevelled, a lot more weary.

His eyes ask the questions he doesn’t want to bombard Hoseok with, and Hoseok, always kind, says, ‘everyone’s on the way.’

Jimin lets out the sigh he hadn’t known he was holding in.

There’s a honk, obnoxious and unnecessary, and Hoseok exchanges a wan smile with Jimin.

‘Fucking kids,’ Hoseok mutters.

Tae parks up tight next to Hoseok, tailed by Jungkook on his bike.

Jungkook drops his helmet on the workbench with a careless clatter, hand already up to fluff his matted hair.

There’s a gap of time then, meaningless banter that no one takes in because they’re really just waiting for the rest.

In the end, there’s one last car, the tail end of the convoy.

Yoongi’s driving in that breathtakingly confident way he does when he’s tired. He parks without revving or honking, just cutting the engine without a pause.

Then everyone’s getting out.

A beautifully groomed Seokjin, a Namjoon just in his shirtsleeves, and you, curled into Namjoon’s side under his arm.

Your eyes meet Hoseok’s for just a second, clocking him.

You’re always aware of him, like he’s always aware of you.

‘The other car’s in the parking garage,’ Namjoon says, low voice more of a rumble than words because he’s been out all night and he forgets to modulate his voice when he’s tired.

Hoseok lets himself glance over you like he would anyone else, scanning for injury.

Drinking you in with his gaze because it’s all he’s allowed to do.

Namjoon’s arm stays locked around your shoulders. He looks at the group assembled in the garage.

Jimin’s already hit the automated doors, locking up. All secure.

There’s not really a lot to say but good night.

***

Hoseok and Namjoon have been friends for so long he can’t remember a time Namjoon wasn’t in his life.

They used to drive Hobi’s beat up Hyundai round the hairpin bends of Samo Hills, over and over, setting different challenges each time.

Who could make the fastest time.

Who could make the fastest time and not turn the blocks of soft tofu in the cooler boxes into mush.

Who could make the fastest time driving and then picking up a girl in the bar.

So dumb, and still one of the best times in his life.

Hobi’d always been aware of you in the periphery, how could he not be?

He’s spent as many nights in Namjoon’s house as he has in his own, especially since his old man started drinking so much.

He feels weird admitting it, but he only started to really see you when you started bringing boys home.

Namjoon, protective older brother that he was, was quick to adopt the role of guard dog, letting his height, and in more recent years, the width of his chest do the intimidating for him.

You’d been amused by Namjoon’s protectiveness initially, laughing it off. Then one day, you’d come home upset because some idiot had tried to make you do something you didn’t want to do.

Hoseok had been in the kitchen fixing himself a sandwich. He’s never thought of himself as any less obtuse than the next guy but a blind man would have been able to see you were upset.

You’d muttered a ‘hello’, politeness ingrained in you.

‘Are you ok?’ Hoseok had asked, peanut butter forgotten.

‘Guys are assholes,’ you’d said, your lip wobbling just a little.

The flare of protective rage had surprised Hoseok.

‘What happened?’ he’d asked, voice sharp.

You’d looked at him, uneasy. ‘Nothing.’

You’d grabbed a drink from the fridge, twisting the cap until Hoseok had held his hand out for it.

You’d passed it over, he’d opened it and handed it back. There was a mark on your wrist.

You’d seen that he’d noticed it.

‘I did that,’ you say, quickly. ‘I was trying to get a bracelet off, quick.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I didn’t want to give him a blow job.’

Hoseok had stared at you, trying to process.

‘He was an asshole,’ you’d said.

Hoseok had said, slow, ‘some dude gave you a bracelet, and wanted you to blow him.’

You’d looked at the ground. ‘I thought he liked me. I’m an idiot.’

‘Did he call you that?’ Hoseok had asked.

‘No, I called him that,’ you’d said. You’d smiled, rueful. ‘After I threw the bracelet at him and kneed him in the balls.’

‘Sounds like you took care of him,’ Hoseok had agreed.

You’d laughed.

‘Want a sandwich?’ Hoseok had asked.

‘Yeah ok.’

By the time Namjoon had turned up, you were watching TV together because Hoseok had sensed you didn’t want to be alone.

You’d started to spend more time together after that, not a lot, just the odd occasion when Namjoon was caught up.

Sometimes you’d go to the store together, pick stuff up for dinner. One time you’d parked the cart in the pasta aisle and stared at the packages of pasta for so long Hoseok had felt like he needed to say something.

‘I like penne,’ he’d offered, gently.

You’d smiled at him as you picked up a packet and placed it carefully in the cart.

‘Joon likes penne.’

‘We like a lot of the same things,’ Hoseok had agreed.

‘Cars. Girls. Books.’ You’d checked things off on your hand, fingers curling.

Hoseok had reached out, curled your ring finger into your palm. ‘Penne.’

You’d laughed and he had too.

When you’d got back home, Namjoon and Yoongi were in the kitchen. One look at their expressions and Hoseok had known something was about to go down.

Namjoon had asked if you could make dinner whilst they talked.

You’d looked at him narrow-eyed, and had said, ‘sure Joonie. I’ll eat it too, and leave you the scraps.’

For a moment the siblings had looked at each other, not alike physically, but so similar in their personalities that a wry grin had already started to curve Hoseok’s lips, even before Yoongi had reached over, picked the groceries out of your arms, and said, ‘I like scraps.’

Dinner had been more than scraps, you were a pretty good cook.

On their way out, Namjoon had told you the usual.

Not to let anyone in unless it was him or one of his.

Not to wait up.

To call the police if they weren’t back by sun up, because the life insurance wouldn’t pay out unless there was proof of death.

He’d been saying the same thing to you for forever, as long as Hoseok could remember.

You’d pulled him into a hug. Then, for the first time, you’d grabbed Hoseok too.

‘See ya later,’ you’d whispered in his ear, on tiptoe so no one else could hear.

‘Yeah. See ya, scraps,’ was all Hoseok could manage.

He thought about that hug a lot, wished he’d been quick enough to hug you back instead of standing there like he didn’t want to.

And then he drove, like he always did.

***

As soon as there was enough money you went off to college, fielding the teasing about being a genius with your usual good-natured comebacks.

You told everyone it was your brother who was the genius, and Hoseok doesn’t think you were wrong, just that you underplayed your own cleverness.

Namjoon had been obsessive about making sure you had enough, it wasn’t enough for him that you were getting your education, he didn’t want you to feel conscious about your own background compared to your peers.

Hoseok knew you well enough to know you would never let that kind of thing get you down. Not coming from where you were from.

He’d been dropping something off, close to the general area where you lived, though he was hazy on the details. He’d seen a billboard with a girl who looked a little like you, and, impulsively, had pulled over and texted you.

Hoseok: Hey, scraps, I’m in town. Want to meet up?’

He’d told himself he’d give you ten minutes to answer and if you didn’t he’d call it.

He didn’t have to wait long. His phone lit up almost instantly.

Scraps: I’m just out of class. Starving. Let’s eat?

Hoseok pulled up to where you’d said to meet, and there you were, pretty and fresh with your backpack double-strapped to you.

You’d slid into the passenger seat, and Hoseok had glanced at your friends, all looking curiously at him.

You’d seen his look. ‘They’re not looking because they’re worried, Hobi. They’re looking because you’re cute.’

Hoseok had laughed. ‘If your brother ever visits you —‘

‘Oh yeah, him too. Yoongi. Seokjin. You.’

You’d rolled your eyes. ‘Spent my whole life protecting you all from my friends.’

Hoseok’s tickled that you think that.

‘What do you want to eat?’ you ask, putting your seatbelt on, turning to him.

Your smile makes Hoseok feel light, easy.

‘Take me somewhere you like,’ he suggests.

You end up in some tiny place, squashed up next to each other. It’s bustling, filled with people, but all Hoseok remembers after is how you were so close your arm pressed against his the whole time, and how nice it made him feel.

He drops you off at your place, and you ask him, a serious look in your eyes, if you want to come up.

‘I should get going,’ Hoseok tells you.

Something like disappointment flits across your face, quickly replaced with your pretty, nonchalant smile.

‘Tell Joonie I’m happy, ok?’ you tell him, unbuckling your seatbelt. Then, you roll your eyes at him, aware of the irony. ‘Drive safe.’

The laugh dies in Hoseok’s throat as you put your hand on his forearm, and say, quietly, ‘For me.’

Hoseok promises you that he will.

***

You’re back for Christmas break, Hoseok’s heard.

He’s waiting by the car for Namjoon a couple days before Christmas, freezing his ass off. The engine’s running but he wants to be quick on his feet in case Namjoon or Yoongi needs help.

His breath’s coming out white, the air is that unrelenting cold it gets this time of year.

Namjoon and Yoongi emerge round the corner, and Hoseok’s adrenaline ebbs.

He gets in, flicks the lights on.

The cold draft that waves in as the boys climb in reminds him how quickly he acclimatises to the warmth.

Back at Namjoon’s place the lights are still on.

You open the back door as they’re walking up.

‘Merry Christmas yo ho ho,’ you say, a curl to your lip that doesn’t quite make it to sarcastic because of the brightness in your eyes.

‘Get inside, you’ll freeze,’ Namjoon says.

‘I’m dressed,’ you retort.

Even Yoongi’s not proof against your cheerfulness, managing a crooked smile as he steps past you.

‘Hobi,’ you say, warmly.

Hoseok slings an arm around you in an awkward side hug.

You don’t seem to mind.

‘When did you get back?’ Hoseok asks, taking the mug you pass him.

‘Yesterday,’ you reply. ‘I’m back until next week.’

Namjoon takes a gulp of his drink and coughs violently. ‘Shit, what’s in this?’

‘It’s eggnog,’ you say, serene.

Yoongi swirls his mug, suspiciously. ‘How much rum did you put in it?’

‘I don’t think you’ll be able to drive after this,’ you say cheerfully.

‘It’s almost undrinkable,’ Namjoon remarks, grimacing.

‘It’s ok,’ Hoseok says.

Yoongi snorts. ‘Cheers.’

You turn back to the stove. ‘I’ll make ramen.’

Hoseok, for just a moment, lets himself admire the graceful line of your neck.

When he looks away, Namjoon catches his eye.

They stare at each other.

Yoongi gets up, chair scraping obnoxiously on the wood floor.

‘Anyone want a refill?’ he asks.

‘Yeah,’ Hoseok says.

Namjoon breaks his gaze and says, ‘fuck it. Pour me another, Yoongs.’

***

It’s Christmas eve, and Hoseok thinks, hand on his heart, that if he never had eggnog again in his whole life it would be too soon.

Namjoon’s sprawled on the couch, flipping through movie options.

You come in, a tray in your arms full of Christmas themed junk food, and stare, surprised at the empty pitcher.

Hoseok hadn’t wanted you to feel bad about your terrible eggnog, so he’d challenged Namjoon to a drinking game whilst you’d been fixing snacks.

Like driving Samo Hills, it’d all ended up being a speed challenge in the end.

Hoseok doesn’t have to look in the mirror to know he’s as flushed as the stockings you’d pinned to the mantel. Three, one for each of them.

Namjoon’s phone rings, and he swipes blearily at it.

You pluck it out of his hand and answer.

Your tone makes Namjoon sit up.

‘It’s Jimin. Jungkook’s hurt. They need you.’

And then Namjoon’s stumbling upright, trying to stay up, moving like he’s on a rollercoaster.

Hoseok isn’t doing much better.

All he knows is, they need to find a way to get to Jungkook.

You’re moving faster than either of them, already in your puffy jacket, keys in your hand.

‘I’ll drive,’ you say.

‘No, you’re not going,’ Namjoon says immediately, reaching for the keys.

‘You’re not going anywhere without me,’ you say.

Namjoon looks at Hoseok helplessly.

‘Get the keys Hobi.’

You shove your hand in your pocket and look at Hoseok.

Hoseok’s never going to be the one to force you to do something you don’t want to do.

You’re shoving Namjoon’s jacket onto him, zipping him up.

‘Come on, Jungkook needs us.’

Namjoon’s been chugging water, the car windows wide open to the chill, trying desperately to sober up on the way.

Hoseok’s doing ok, he thinks. He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again you’re pulling into a spot on the street, Namjoon’s low voice murmuring instructions.

Hoseok’s still more drunk than sober, but the adrenaline thrumming through his veins is helping tip the balance.

Namjoon’s got his usual set of instructions for you, but you cut him off.

‘Go help Jungkook, Joon. I’ll wait here.’

You say it firmly, calmly.

Hoseok watches the way Namjoon’s hand lands on yours, a rare display of affection.

Then he’s out, running alongside Namjoon.

***

By the time Hoseok gets back to the car, the darkest part of the night is over.

He knocks on the window gently, trying not to startle you.

The doors unlock, and he slides in next to you.

‘Where’s Joon?’ you ask immediately, scanning for your brother.

‘He’s gone to the hospital with Jungkook and Jimin,’ Hoseok tells you.

‘Is he ok?’ you ask, voice losing its sharp edge of panic now that you know your brother’s ok.

‘Yeah, Jungkook’s fine, his shoulder’s dislocated and he’s a bit banged up but he’ll be ok.’

Hoseok nudges you gently. ‘Move over, let me drive.’

You’re quiet as Hoseok pulls the car out of the space, puts on the radio to the station he and Namjoon always listen to.

A piano solo plays, a piece he likes. Hoseok finds himself sneaking glances at you in the flashes of streetlight as he drives.

You’re tired, and so pretty his heart longs for you.

‘Are you ok Hobi?’ you ask.

‘I’m fine, Scraps.’

His voice comes out raspy, low.

He takes the Samo Hills route because it’s familiar, even though it’s a little longer.

You put your hand on his, for an instant, and squeeze.

Hoseok says, when you’re pulling your hand away, ‘you can hold my hand. I like it.’

Your fingers flutter in the air between you, and then your hand closes over his.

This is a dangerous game he’s playing, Hoseok tells himself.

But he can’t help himself, not when he’s driving his favourite route, when the dawn’s just breaking, shades of midnight to shades of blue.

It’s his favourite time of day, the promise of another new beginning, another chance to remedy the fuckups of yesterday.

He tells himself that this can be his Christmas present.

You’re still holding his hand, and you hold it all the way as Hoseok drives you home.

***

Hoseok walks into your living room on New Year’s Eve to find Yoongi buried in his phone and raised voices from the kitchen.

‘Scraps looks less scrappy, and Namjoon’s being overbearing about it,’ is Yoongi’s succinct summary.

Hoseok raises an eyebrow and heads for the kitchen.

He immediately curses Yoongi in his head.

Less scrappy seems a gross understatement.

He’s torn between wanting to look his fill and wanting to grab the chunky sweater Namjoon’s holding out to you and wrap you in it.

‘You tell her,’ Namjoon says to Hoseok, exasperated. He turns back to you. ‘You’re gonna have dumb douchebags trying it on with you all night.’

‘Yeah, and you’ll have girls all over you. How is that different?’ you ask, patiently.

‘I can look after myself,’ Namjoon snaps.

‘I’m not even going to dignify that with a response,’ you shoot back.

‘You’re both pretty,’ Hoseok says, trying for levity.

Two sets of eyes glare at him.

Then you sigh.

‘Joonie, I can handle myself.’

Namjoon sighs, too. ‘I know you can.’

You reach out and unbutton one of his buttons, taking it down to the middle of his chest.

‘Now we’re even, ok?’

Namjoon rolls his eyes but doesn’t do his button back up.

‘Let’s go.’

The party’s a good one, at some guy’s mansion. The music’s banging, the place already full of people.

You disappear with a couple girlfriends, leading them away from Namjoon and Yoongi, throwing Hoseok a sideways glance that makes him remember how you said you were trying to protect them all.

He smiles at the memory.

Yoongi looks, nonplussed, at a girl who walks right up to him and asks his name.

He keeps her waiting just long enough that the confidence in her eyes starts to falter, then he lets her tug him away from Namjoon and Hoseok.

‘Fucking Min Yoongi,’ Namjoon says, but there’s affection in his voice.

‘The only man I’ve ever seen who can make women go crazy for him just by existing,’ Hoseok agrees.

He grabs a drink, watching in amusement as Namjoon executes a well-timed dimple flash at a very beautiful woman wearing a white crop top.

He follows it up with a casual flex of his arms, because he’s always been an overachiever.

Soon enough Namjoon’s got his arm around her, but he’s still looking around for you.

‘Hobi, have you seen Scraps recently?’

‘Don’t worry,’ Hoseok jokes, ‘I can babysit your baby sister for you.’

It’s a dumb joke, a throwback to when Namjoon’s overprotectiveness was a running joke amongst the group.

Hoseok only realises how it would sound to you when he sees the stricken look on your face.

You’re too slow, and too upset, to hide it.

Hoseok’s heart stops seeing you frozen in your tracks, barely two feet away.

You react first, tearing your eyes away from his, veering away from him even as he says your name and reaches for you.

Hoseok looks to Namjoon. He shrugs. ‘Let her cool off. We can talk to her tomorrow, ok?’

Hoseok can’t let you walk away, not like this. He starts after you.

By the time he finds you, you’re under some guy’s arm, smiling up at him.

Hoseok says, ‘hey, can we talk?’

The guy’s arm tightens around you like he owns you, setting Hoseok’s teeth on edge.

You smile, but there’s a look in your eyes Hoseok’s never seen before.

‘Don’t worry, Hobi. I’m fine. Enjoy your night.’

Then you’ve turned away, and there’s only so much of the guy’s hands on you that Hoseok can watch before he’s turning away too.

***

Hoseok’s got the kitchen smelling like coffee and fresh bread by the time you make an appearance the next morning.

You give him a smile of genuine pleasure as you accept your mug of coffee.

Hoseok doesn’t want to sour the mood but he needs to set the record straight.

‘About last night,’ he says.

Your smile doesn’t dim. ‘It’s fine Hobi,’ you insist.

‘No,’ Hoseok says, ‘What I said— it was just a stupid joke. No one thinks of you as an annoying baby sister. I don’t think of you that way.’

You search his gaze.

‘It’s ok,’ you say.

Hoseok knows that it’s not ok, he can hear it in the brittleness of your voice, he can see it in the way your eyes are shiny with tears.

You turn away. ‘I should pack. Thanks for the coffee.’

Hoseok says, ‘let me drop you off at the train station.’

***

You’re quiet as Hoseok drives, your seatbelt tight over your puffy jacket.

‘I’ll be in your neck of the woods next month,’ Hoseok tells you.

‘Yeah?’ you ask. You smile. ‘Let me know if you want to meet up ok?’

There’s a pause, then you say, carefully, ‘don’t feel obliged though.’

Hoseok wants to go back in time and punch himself in the face for what he said.

‘I want to,’ he says.

You’re looking out the window, at the icy road, the January slush.

Hoseok parks up, and you turn to him, lips parting to thank him because you’ve always been sweet like that.

He leans over, across the centre console and kisses you.

You let out a soft breath that makes him feel a little crazy for you.

Your lips are sweet and warm. You taste like coffee and cinnamon.

Hoseok pulls away to check your expression.

‘Is this ok?’ he asks.

You nod so quickly he’s endeared. ‘Yes Hobi.’

Your hand’s curled around his neck like you don’t want to let him go.

‘I’m gonna talk to Namjoon,’ Hoseok tells you. ‘If you’re ok with that.’

‘What are you gonna say?’ you ask.

‘I’m gonna say that I like you,’ Hoseok says. He puts his hand on yours. ‘That I’m gonna ask you out.’

The smile you turn on him is so pretty he kisses you again.

***

Hoseok parks up outside your apartment.

You’re at the door to greet him like you often do when he and Namjoon get back after a job.

The smile on your face falters even though he tries his best to smile back at you.

‘Hey, let’s get inside before you freeze, ok?’

He’s never been inside your apartment before, and he wants to look around but as he unzips his jacket you step forward and snuggle yourself into his chest for a hug.

Hoseok has a lot to say to you tonight but for now he lets himself lean into you just a little.

You smell so good.

You’re looking up at him now.

‘You spoke to my brother,’ you say, flat. It’s not a question.

‘I did,’ Hoseok says, figuring he might as well just come out and say it.

‘And.’

‘Namjoon’s worried about us dating,’ Hoseok tells you.

You’re both still standing in your hallway, next to the door.

You reach out and take his hand.

‘Let’s talk about it,’ you say. ‘Stay for a bit.’

There’s a nervous energy to your posture as you wash up after dinner. Hoseok dries the dishes after you wash them, stacks them up.

You turn off the tap and turn to him.

‘Want tea?’ you offer.

‘Let’s sit,’ Hoseok says.

You take the opposite end of the couch, pull a cushion into your lap.

‘Hey,’ you say, hesitant. ‘You don’t have to feel —‘

You pause like you’re searching for the word, but Hoseok thinks you’re just worried to say it.

He reaches for your hand.

‘You’re not going to hurt me if it was all a mistake,’ you say, and your candour takes Hoseok’s breath away.

You smile like you mean it. ‘We can forget it ever happened. You felt bad and we kissed. It’s no big deal.’

Hoseok can’t believe what a mess he’s made of this.

‘You’re right,’ he says. ‘I’m not going to hurt you, because I like you. I like you a hell of a lot.’

He reaches out to cup your face.

‘I didn’t kiss you because I felt bad,’ he tells you, quietly. ‘I kissed you because I’ve been wanting to for years.’

‘I want to kiss you right now,’ he admits. ‘I promised your brother —‘

You cut him off by leaning close.

God he can smell your shampoo, familiar and sweet.

‘Forget my brother, Hobi. Do you want to kiss me now?’

Hoseok already knows he’s not going to say no to anything you ask for.

***

He’s lost track of time a little, lying in your bed like this, nothing but snow outside your window.

You’re in his arms, and he likes how you feel, all soft and warm.

He can’t believe he gets to hold you like this, that you’re burrowing your face into his neck.

Your lips press against his skin, and then there’s a thrilling moment when he isn’t quite sure it’s your tongue flicking against his neck.

Then your parted lips press against his skin and you suck.

Hoseok groans, hand coming up to tangle in your hair.

His cock presses against the seam of the nice jeans he put on because he wanted to look good for you.

He’s hard as you are soft.

From here he can see straight down your top, the curved mounds of your very pretty tits.

He can see the outlines of your nipples, pressing against the silky fabric.

‘Can I touch you?’ he wants to know.

You lift your lips off his skin, and the look you give him is so heated he can’t stop himself.

He kisses you again, hungrily, revelling in the feel of your soft breaths against his cheek.

You whimper as he hooks a thumb under the strap of your top, tugging it off your shoulder.

You do the same to the other strap, and Hoseok could cry at the sight of you.

He kisses over the tops of your breasts, moving slow, savouring the feel of you.

He flicks his tongue over a nipple, and a moan falls from your lips. Hoseok puts his lips to your nipple and sucks. Your hand curls around the back of his neck.

‘Don’t stop, Hobi,’ you plead. Hoseok doesn’t answer, can’t answer with your breast in his mouth, so he slides his hand around to your back, pulling you closer.

You’re moving against him with that careless grace he’s always liked. He’s no slouch at controlling his movements but he loves the way you press against him. He likes the way your hips rub against his, the friction against his aching cock just enough.

You’re spreading your legs under him, your fingertips hooking into the waistband of his jeans.

‘Can I touch you?’ you ask, so sweet and polite Hoseok wants to worship you and defile you, not necessarily in that order.

‘Touch me, baby,’ he says, voice low, raspy.

You undo his jeans carefully, drawing him out as he pushes his jeans down.

Your hand wraps around his cock, gentle, careful. You slip your thumb over the head, twisting slightly, making his hips rock into your hand.

‘You feel nice,’ Hoseok says, encouraging. He can’t look down, can’t watch you stroking him, because it’s too much. He might cum watching you, and he’ll be damned if he blows his load before he gets inside you.

‘Can I touch you?’ he asks, politely if not as sweetly as you asked.

‘Yes,’ you say, lips parted slightly as your hand tightens around his cock.

‘Here, baby?’ Hoseok asks. He pulls your loose sweats down, admires the smooth warm skin of your thighs. He splays his hand over your skin, slips a thumb under the centre panel of your panties, right over your core.

He groans at how wet you are.

‘For me?’ he asks, teasing.

Your eyes meet his, serious and dark as his fingers start to move inside you.

‘For you,’ you say, lip caught under your front teeth, plump, pink.

Hoseok curls a hand around himself, over your fingers, trying not to groan at the pleasure of it.

‘This is for you,’ he tells you.

‘I want it, Hobi,’ you say, voice breathless, high as he rubs his thumb over your clit.

‘You can have me,’ he promises.

He means it in so many ways he can’t say. He means you already have him, you’ll always have him, but he can’t tell you all that right now in this drugged haze of pleasure he finds himself in.

Hobi tries to show you instead.

He enters you slow, confidence building as he watches you writhe on his cock.

Your cheeks are warm, eyes bright, and you’re so beautiful he feels blinded.

So he closes his eyes.

Presses his lips to your skin.

Rocks against you, cock so hard he’s worried he’ll hurt you. Would be worried if it weren’t for the pleasured sounds falling from your lips.

You sound so pretty panting into his ear, gasping his name.

Hoseok can feel the way you push up to meet him, thrust for thrust, ankles locked in the small of his back.

It’s so you that it pulls him out of his head for a moment. You’ve always given as good as you got, always supported Namjoon, pushing against him trying to keep you out of trouble.

Your hand on his cheek makes his eyes fly to yours.

‘Hey,’ you say, a question in your eyes even as you hold him close to you.

‘I can’t,’ Hoseok says.

‘It’s ok,’ you say, simple, easy.

Like you’re the one comforting him.

Hoseok pulls out, laying on top of you, hard and aching.

He’s breathing quick, harsh.

You kiss him on the cheek with such tenderness he wants to cry.

‘It’s ok, Hobi.’ The sadness in your voice makes his heart crack, just a little.

Then you’re sitting up, getting dressed. It’s dark now, he can just about make out the silhouette of you against the window.

You’re beautiful even when he can barely see you. He knows you so well his mind can fill in the blanks.

Hoseok feels like the worst kind of asshole. He shouldn’t have come here. Shouldn’t have touched you, let alone fucked you. And now you’re sitting by the window. It’s too dark to see your face.

You say, ‘hey, Hobi. It’s ok. We both love Joon.’

Hoseok gets up, kneels at your feet, your legs curled up in the armchair.

‘I’m sorry.’

There’s the faintest sigh, a thickness to your voice that hurts his heart.

‘Me too, Hobi.’

***

Hoseok, Namjoon and Yoongi arrive back at Namjoon’s to a darkened house.

Namjoon, always on high alert, is already on his phone calling you before Yoongi’s even flicked on the lights.

Hoseok’s up the stairs before he realises he’s moving. Your door’s slightly ajar, one look and he can see you’re not there.

Namjoon’s on the phone, his voice low, terse. ‘I’ll come and get you.’

He turns to them. ‘She’s down the block. I’ll walk her back home.’

‘What happened?’ Hoseok asks immediately, voice too brisk, snapping in his panic.

‘She’s fine,’ Namjoon answers. He’s already half out the door.

It’s only fifteen minutes before you and Namjoon are stomping on the mat before entering the kitchen, but Hoseok realises how tense he’s been when he sees your face.

You look a little tired and cold, and Hoseok notices you’ve got Namjoon’s jacket on, fluffy house slippers on your feet.

‘Someone knocked when we were out,’ Namjoon says. He looks tense, still.

‘It was probably nothing. I shouldn’t have run,’ you say. You’re slipping Namjoon’s jacket off, Hoseok can see you’ve only got a thin t-shirt on underneath.

You turn to Namjoon. ‘I’m going to bed. I really don’t think it was anything to worry about, Joon.’

Namjoon looks unconvinced, but he says nothing.

You nod to Yoongi and flick your gaze to Hoseok. He hasn’t seen you since he left your apartment that last time.

You look at him for a moment, almost like you’re expecting to say something.

Hoseok can think of a million things he wants to say to you, but he’s too slow.

You’re stepping past him, careful not to touch him like he was never inside you.

***

Hoseok’s trying to reach the cereal box on the top shelf, damn Namjoon and his long reach, when you enter the kitchen quietly one morning.

You’re in the clothes you went out in the night before, and he startles you so badly that your heels drop to the tiled floor with a clatter.

You look at them, and him, and decide to play it out with breathtaking audacity.

‘Good morning Hoseok,’ you say, like you have every reason to be in a very tight, very short black dress at 8am on a Sunday.

‘Hi,’ Hoseok replies. ‘Want breakfast?’

You look at his arm, still outstretched, and reach under the table to pull out a step.

You hop up on it and get the cereal box down for him.

‘Joonie does it on purpose so I don’t finish the good cereal,’ you say, rolling your eyes.

Hoseok laughs, and you do too.

Your laugh is pretty, and Hoseok realises with a pang that it’s been a while since you last smiled at him like this.

‘Late night? Who’s the lucky guy?’ Hoseok asks, trying to sound casual.

The smile drops from your face as soon as the question leaves his mouth.

‘Ah, no one,’ you say. You’re stepping away carefully, sliding along the counter, picking up your shoes. You laugh, but it sounds forced. ‘Nothing happened.’

Hoseok says, ‘Scraps?’

‘Scraps is exactly what I am,’ you say. You sound like you’re joking, but there’s no humour in your expression.

Hoseok’s reaching for you, but you’re turning to head up the stairs.

***

Namjoon says, ‘we need another driver, Jimin’s still out with his wrist.’

‘What about Minjun?’ suggests Hoseok.

‘He’s not free tonight,’ Namjoon replies.

‘Scraps?’ asks Yoongi.

‘I know you didn’t just suggest my sister for our most dangerous job in months,’ Namjoon says, eyes narrowed at Yoongi.

‘She’s like a sister to me too,’ Yoongi says, evenly. ‘Getaway is low risk.’

‘Not no risk,’ counters Namjoon.

‘Scraps is pretty good at looking after herself,’ Yoongi points out.

‘We’re not getting her involved in this,’ says Namjoon, sharply.

‘Involved in what?’ you ask.

Hoseok looks up at you, and like always, is struck by how lovely you look.

‘We need another driver for tonight’s job,’ Yoongi says to you.

‘And you’re not it,’ Namjoon says.

‘I can help, Joon.’

‘She can ride behind me,’ Hoseok says. ‘We’ll convoy her.’

Namjoon gets up. ‘We could ask Haru.’

You stop him from pacing, gently, a hand on his arm.

‘I can do it Joon.’

Namjoon looks at all your faces, the indecision on his face writ clear for all to see.

Gentle, as always, you tug at his arm. ‘Let’s take a walk, Joonie.’

‘It’s cold outside,’ Namjoon grumbles, but he’s already following you out the door.

It’s nearly an hour before you come back, flushed from the cold, shivering.

‘Hoseok, you’re in front like always, Yoongi you pull up the rear. Scraps will ride in between and she’s not getting out.’

Yoongi snorts. ‘It took you an hour freezing your balls off to work that out?‘

You lift the bag you’ve got dangling from your hand.

‘We got take-out too.’

The smile on your face is infectious.

***

Hoseok starts his engine, hands moving to the steering wheel and the stick shift automatically. He glances in the mirror. There’s just enough light to see your face.

You stick your tongue out at him, and Namjoon, beside you, says something that makes you laugh.

Yoongi’s lights flick on behind you, reflecting against the stark white walls of the parking garage. Taehyung and Jungkook are riding with him.

Jimin hits the gate switch, the shutters concertina up, and Hoseok does his customary rev as he rolls out.

He drives slow initially, letting you get used to the pattern of his driving. He drives through an intersection, through the part of town where tight streets give way to wider lanes and longer stretches of dark.

He rolls into a slip lane, joining the highway. The hand on the speedometer swings round steadily as he picks up the pace.

You’ve found a rhythm now, keeping just the right amount of distance between you. Hoseok knows Yoongi, behind you, will take care of the rest.

He can’t see Namjoon but he imagines he’s sitting back in his seat.

Hoseok puts pressure on the accelerator.

He drives, like he always does.

***

So far everything’s going to plan. Namjoon, Tae and Jungkook are out on the job, Hoseok’s circling the block, keeping an eye out.

There’s movement out of the corner of his eye, and Hoseok slows to get a better look.

The car pulls out in front of him quickly, too quickly.

Hoseok sees the gun, but he’s already reacted to it.

In his lifetime of driving up front, his reflexes have never let him down.

His car turns into the collision, headlights from the upcoming vehicle shining right in his window, blinding him.

He’s cut it fine, but he’s done just enough.

The other car hits him side on, crashing into the tail end of his car as he spins.

The impact is always jarring, no matter how much he tries to brace.

His airbag doesn’t deploy, thank god for small favours.

Hoseok comes to a complete stop with his arms braced over his head.

He turns his head, looking for you.

Your car’s stopped, lights on.

He can’t see you. Fuck, where are you?

The passenger door’s wrenched open, and you’re climbing over, undoing his belt, calling his name.

‘Get back in the car,’ Hoseok tells you, urgently. ‘There’s a gun.’

‘Not without you,’ you say. ‘Come on, Hobi, get your ass in gear.’

Hoseok climbs out after you, staggers to your passenger seat.

He risks a glance at the other car. The driver’s slumped over the wheel.

Yoongi rolls up alongside you. ‘Get the fuck out,’ he commands. ‘Scraps, take Hobi and go. I’ll take care of the rest.’

You’re still looking at him, so Yoongi promises you, ‘I’m not coming back without Joon. Go, Scraps.’

You reach over and buckle Hoseok in. ‘Are you hurt?’ you ask. Your hand cups his cheek.

‘I’m good, Scraps. Let’s go.’

***

Hoseok’s never been driven by you before.

If he had to compare driving styles, he’d say you’re most similar to Yoongi.

There’s a quiet confidence about the way you drive, it’s unflashy but he likes it.

You’re driving down Samo Hills by the time Hoseok’s phone lights up.

‘Joon’s with Yoongi. They’re all fine,’ Hoseok tells you.

For the first time tonight, your hands tremble on the wheel.

‘Pull over,’ Hoseok says.

He puts his hand on your shoulder, feels the way you’re shaking.

‘Pull over, baby,’ he says.

You pull into a layby, cut the engine.

The lights fade out, and it’s so dark he can’t see you at all.

All he can hear is the hitches in your breathing as you cry, and Hoseok’s so sick of not giving in to you.

He pulls you into his arms.

He comforts you the way he wanted to that night he came to your apartment.

‘You’re ok, baby,’ he tells you, smoothing your hair, stroking your back, holding you tight.

Your tears wet his face, and Hoseok swipes his thumbs over your soft cheeks.

‘Don’t cry, Scraps, please,’ he pleads.

‘I thought you were hurt,’ you sob, words staccato, drawing gasps of breath in between.

Hoseok’s pretty sure he’s bruised if not broken a couple ribs, but there’s no way he’s telling you that.

‘I’m fine,’ he tells you, tilting your chin. Your eyes search his face, lips parted slightly.

‘I’m gonna kiss you, is that ok?’ he asks.

You nod.

Hoseok nudges in close, breathes in your scent, and kisses you with all the longing he’s felt for you.

Since you first started hanging out with him after school.

Since he saw you with that absurdly cute backpack strapped to you.

Since that New Year’s eve where he had to watch another man touch you when it should have been him with his arm around you.

Hoseok’s not going to let himself make the same mistakes again.

You’re whimpering in his ear, soft sounds making his cock surge in his pants, making him chub up for you.

Hoseok leans the seat back as far as it’ll go, watches as you look him over.

‘Come sit on me,’ he says, his voice that raspy low tone he gets when he’s turned on.

You climb over him gracefully, all legs and big eyes.

Hoseok pulls you down to him. Your hips move against his, and he groans.

‘I want you, Hobi,’ you say, quietly, eyes shining.

‘You have no idea how much I want you,’ Hoseok replies.

There’s a devilish spark in your eye.

‘How much do you want me?’ you ask.

Hoseok blinks at you.

Christ. Are you pouting at him?

You’re undoing your jeans, the sliver of pink panties enough for his cock to press uncomfortably at the seam of his pants.

‘You left me all wet for you before,’ you say, when Hoseok doesn’t reply.

Hoseok can’t stop his groan as you push your jeans down and travel your fingers under the band of your panties.

‘You’re gonna make me cum just watching you,’ he tells you.

‘Are you hard for me?’ you ask, feigning innocence.

‘I’m so fucking hard,’ Hoseok tells you, honestly.

‘Show me.’

Hoseok undoes the fly of his pants, pushes them down. He watches as your eyes drop to the outline of his cock.

‘We haven’t got a lot of room,’ you say.

You tug your panties aside and roll your hips over his bulge.

Hoseok puts his hands on your hips.

‘You gonna let me in?’ he asks.

He draws himself out of his briefs, hard, leaking, already sensitive.

You brace a hand against the window and scoot forward.

Hoseok grabs your hips and pulls you down onto his cock.

‘Hobi,’ you cry, as he fills you.

‘Yeah?’ he asks. ‘You like me like that?’

You moan instead of answering, and Hoseok jerks his hips up against you.

‘Answer me,’ he says.

‘I like you inside me,’ you say, moaning as he bucks up again.

‘I like being inside you,’ Hoseok tells you. He squeezes your hip. ‘Fuck! You feel so good.’

He lifts up your top, pushes your lacy bralette up so he can touch your skin.

Fuck your tits look beautiful.

You look beautiful.

You’re biting your lip as you ride him, all slick and sweaty and breathless, and Hoseok could watch you forever.

He pushes up against the footwell, bucking up into you, hips slamming up into yours.

He can tell you’re close by the way you’re clenching around him, by the way your voice has gone high as you pant his name.

He pulls you down against him, mouth open against your skin, whispering praise to you as you take him.

You tell him you’re cumming, and Hoseok can’t hold back. He flexes up into you, grunting as he releases, hot streaks of cum that roll down his cock as you move your hips. You moan and bury your face in his neck.

Hoseok curls his arms around you, taking the weight of you, and closes his eyes.

Why has he spent so much time fighting this? You’re everything he’s ever wanted.

***

Hoseok stirs when you start moving. You put a hand on his chest, and he brings his own hand up to cover it.

You look at him, uncertainly.

‘Stay,’ he says.

He’s hardening again, the head of his cock pushing against your folds, so close because he hadn’t moved after he’d softened out of you the first time.

He shifts, moving so he’s on top of you, between your legs.

You’re looking up at him, eyes so wide he can’t help himself.

He kisses you again.

He pulls back just long enough to ask if he can enter you again.

This time, it’s slow.

Hoseok kisses you as he thrusts, your eyelids, your cheeks, the hollow between your collarbones.

‘I’ve missed you,’ he tells you.

His reward is a smile so bright it could light up the world.

The pleasure’s building, slow, and he thinks he could keep going like this, make you cum on his cock.

So he does. He rocks his hips against yours, whispering praise in your ear as he fucks into you.

You’re getting tighter now around him, arching against him.

He knows you’re close. ‘Hey,’ he says, raspy, low.

Good girl that you are, you moan, ‘yes, Hobi?’

‘Cum for me,’ he urges, reaching down, squeezing your ass.

He moves faster, which you seem to like.

He feels like he’s hurtling to the edge of a precipice, pleasure surging.

For a moment, he’s suspended.

Then he falls, and he takes you with him.

***

By the time Hoseok rolls back into the parking garage, the dawn’s starting to break.

He parks up in his usual space.

You’re climbing out the other side of the car, greeting Namjoon in a tight hug, grabbing Yoongi’s arm when it looks like he’s about to pretend he doesn’t want to hug.

Hoseok grabs Namjoon after you’re done with him, because he’s his closest friend, and last night was a hell of a lot.

Namjoon’s hold is tight, strong, sore on his broken ribs but Hoseok wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything.

He exchanges a look with Namjoon as he pulls away.

He has a feeling Namjoon already knows what he’s going to say before he turns to you, holding out his arm.

‘Come on Scraps, let’s go to bed.’

You curl into his side.

©hamsterclaw 2022

#jhope smut #jhope x reader #bts smut #hoseok fanfic

432 notes · View notes

jjungkookislife · 2 years

Text

Fetish For Blood: Don’t Hold Back

pairing: vampire!jungkook x witch!reader

genre: vampire au, established au, smut [18+]

summary: Jungkook is nervous about meeting your friends. However, that doesn’t stop him from getting a taste of you.

wc: 601

warnings: blood drinking, marking (hickeys and biting), alcohol mention, orgasm, fingering (f. receiving)

date: August 14, 2022

"Are you gonna be good?" you ask Jungkook as you press yourself to the front door.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "When have I not?"

You raise a brow at him, moving your dress off your shoulder to see the latest mark.

Jungkook giggles. "Oh, yeah!"

"You can't just have a snack around my friends tonight. They don't know you're a vampire." You remind him.

"Babe, they're gonna know the moment I walk into the bar," Jungkook chuckles but promises to be good anyway, if only to ease your nerves.

Jungkook is correct. The moment you step into the bar, your friends all turn to face the both of you. Raising a hand, you wave as you lead Jungkook to your group of friends.

"Hello!" you greet them. They blink. "This is Jungkook. He's my boyfriend."

Jungkook waves sheepishly and your friends collectively breathe out in relief now that the threat has been identified.

"A vampire?" Your friend Alexa asks.

"Yes," you answer before you're ordering a drink from the bar. Jungkook stays at your side as your friends make conversation, trying their best to include Jungkook as much as possible as they catch you up on their lives. You're the last to speak, careful about what you share.

When you excuse yourself to the bathroom, Jungkook follows, not wanting to be left alone with your friends.

"Jungkook," you hiss when he opens the bathroom door after you've finished washing your hands.

"Thay hate me," he pouts as he locks the door, leaning against it.

"They don't know you. Trust me, they weren't fond of my werewolf boyfriend either," you shrug.

"That doesn't make me feel better," Jungkook mutters as he crosses his arms. "A werewolf, babe? Really?"

"Oh, come on! He wasn't that bad! Just hairy," you grin and Jungkook rolls his eyes.

"Come here," Jungkook commands as he reaches for you, his hands resting on your hips. You looked gorgeous tonight. You had picked out a red dress and black heels that he almost wanted you to step on him with. Your dress was low cut, and the sides had little circles where your skin peeked out and he wanted to sink his fangs into you desperately.

"Jungkook," you sigh when his lips meet your skin, your hands wrap around his neck to hold him close. Your fingers thread through his hair.

"Just a taste, baby," Jungkook groans when he gets a whiff of your scent. He can feel your pulse quicken and smell your arousal as his teeth scrape against your skin. You sigh, moaning his name after and melting into him as his thumbs touch your skin that's exposed by your dress.

"Just a taste," you say as his fangs sink into your neck. "Fuck, Koo."

Jungkook takes a deep drink, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he hikes your leg up and around his hips. He moans, muffled by your skin as he takes another drink, his cock throbbing in his slacks. Fuck, maybe this wasn't a good idea.

Jungkook pulls off, panting. His eyes are dark and filled with lust before he's kissing you, his tongue pushing past your lips. You grunt at the taste of your blood, tongue tangling with his as he grabs handfuls of your ass, grinding against you until you're biting your lip to keep from screaming.

Jungkook licks the blood off your lips, turning to press you against the door as his fingers push your wet panties to the side, rubbing your clit until you're trembling in his arms, falling apart with his name heavy on your tongue.

thank you for reading! ♡ if you liked it, please let me know! 💌

<< previous

#clubzerooclock #jungkook x reader insert #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook smut #vampire!jungkook #witch!reader

155 notes · View notes

xjoonchildx · 4 years

Text

airplane, pt. 2 | jjk x reader chapter five: home

pairing: jungkook/reader

word count: 2.9K rating: 18+

genre: smut | silly smut | nonsensical smut

warnings: criminal!jungkook, koreanamerican!jungkook, reality has left the chat, plausibility has left the chat

A/N: i've never had so much anxiety posting an update. next time i decide to fly by the seat of my pants and turn a one-shot into a full chaptered fic, just punch me in the face, okay?

all kidding aside, standard smut warnings apply to this chapter and i really hope you guys like it.

xoxo

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

artwork by the shmexy @ppersonna who’s smut is even better than her art

*****************************

“You broke into my house.”

It takes you a solid minute to find the breath to power that shaky sentence.

Your legs are already like noodles from your run and at this point they are threatening to come right out from underneath you. You reach a hand out to the wall to stop yourself from hitting the deck.

Jungkook stands slowly from where he’s seated on the couch, a careful smile on his lips.

“You gonna call the cops?”

You stare at him.

Jungkook is in the country. In Los Angeles. In your living room .

He’s wearing a leather jacket over a t-shirt and jeans and his hair is cut short again. He is alive and in one piece and looks somehow even more handsome than he did the last time you saw him. How does he do that?

You’re so distracted by Jungkook -- in your fucking house -- that you miss the look of concern that comes over him the longer you stand there without saying something. It’s like your brain is hung up -- glitching -- trying to process the scene in front of you.

“You okay?”

“You broke into my house ,” you say again, as though that should answer his question.

“That is a matter of semantics,” Jungkook argues. “I would say that I let myself in because I knew you wouldn’t want me just standing around outside. Aren’t you the one always telling me to keep a low profile?”

A disbelieving laugh bubbles up your chest.

His sarcasm is comforting, even right now, when your heart is still racing and you can’t seem to stop sweating and you’ve just realized that you’re pretty fucking pissed that he dropped off the radar and didn’t contact you for weeks.

“So we should probably talk, huh?”

“You think?”

Now it’s his turn to laugh. He sinks back down onto the couch and gestures for you to join him.

You don’t.

“How the hell did you get here?” you demand.

“Same way I got out, pretty much,” he shrugs. “Mexico. Hitched a ride to San Diego and Yoongi was able to pick me up there. Good thing I’m not from Iowa or some shit, huh?”

He aims a hopeful smile at you like he’s searching for a way to connect but you don’t return it.

A flash of disappointment crosses his face.

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “Good thing.”

You look down to his lap. His hands haven’t stopped moving, fingers winding together and unwinding over and over. He’s nervous.

Well, good.

“I’m gonna turn myself in tomorrow,” he says after a long moment.

He knocks the wind out of you with that.

“Holy shit,” you breathe.

“Yeah. Turns out, I’m being represented by some incredibly-connected, high-dollar attorney.” He looks up and fixes you with those dark, hypnotic eyes. “Any idea where I could have gotten one of those?”

Seokjin, you fucking angel.

“Maybe,” you murmur. “What did he say?”

“Well, he told me to get my happy ass back to the States. Said the Marshals would appreciate me walking in on my own as opposed to having to drag me back. Said I’m going to have to eat some crow if I expect them to listen to anything I have to say.”

He rubs a hand across the back of his neck, against the grain of the now short hairs at his nape.

“Told me to get a haircut, too.”

That makes you smile. Jin is nothing if not thorough.

“So what does -- “ you clear your throat, “ -- your attorney say about what happens after that?”

“No way to know for sure,” Jungkook admits. “They could lock me up and throw away the key or they could decide on something else. Kind of a roll of the dice at this point.”

Your chest squeezes at the thought of Jungkook walking into that Federal Building and leaving in a transport van. You shut your eyes like that will somehow stop the mental image.

“And you’re turning yourself in anyway.”

He fidgets with his ear like an anxious kid.

“Yeah.”

“Alright,” you say on a shaky exhale. “Okay. Wow.”

A tense silence falls between you.

“I need you to talk to me,” Jungkook says after a moment. “I need to know where your head is at right now.”

Do you know how hard I went to bat for you? you want to scream, which is unfair, really. He’s never asked you for your help. Everything you’ve done, you’ve done on your own. But now he’s here and in front of you and you are practically buzzing with the urge to vent your frustration at him.

“Why didn’t I hear from you?”

You hope like hell you’re the only one who can hear the thread of insecurity in your voice. “You had the burner number and I just -- never heard from you again. And now you’re in my house.”

“I know,” he admits. His fingers keep lacing together, unlacing. “I know it’s really fucked up to just ambush you like this. It’s just that shit got really hairy for me in Nicaragua. These guys stole my phone.”

“But you managed to call Yoongi,” you snap.

“Well yeah,” he fires back. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. I’ve had his number for years. I got in touch with him as soon as I could get my hands on a new burner.”

You tell yourself to relax.

You tell yourself that it’s a totally plausible explanation and put a hand to your forehead as though you expect to be able to feel your temperature coming down. As though you’ll be able to feel the anger draining out of you until all that’s left is the relief that he’s here, that he’s okay.

You take a deep breath, release the tension that’s had you wound so tight.

“I left the bureau.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, “Did they -- Did I -- “

“Don’t give yourself too much credit,” you cut in, rolling your eyes. “It wasn’t really about you. Not all of it, anyway.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but thinks better of it. There is a melancholy in his eyes that unnerves you.

You’ve seen him cocky and arrogant and unrepentant and flirtatious. But this — this hat-in-hand version of him, devoid of his trademark bravado is so disconcerting.

He looks away from you, back down to his hands. You wrap your arms around yourself and take a moment to just look at him, to appreciate his striking face. You think back to the first time you saw that face, how dumbfounded you’d been by his physical appearance.

Then he opened his mouth and your fate was sealed.

One way or another this debacle ends in just a few short hours.

The rational part of you craves a conclusion to this insanity, an end to the near-constant anxiety you’ve felt for months now. But there’s the other part of you that worries this will end with Jungkook behind bars for the rest of his life. You don’t know if you’re ready to accept that just yet.

“Can you um --“ Jungkook wets his lips, “-- can you come sit with me?”

“Yeah,” you agree quietly.

You cross the room and slide next to him on the couch.

He reaches for your hands, but does not meet your eyes. His fingers stroke over your wrists and not for the first time you wonder how he manages to make the most simple touches feel so good.

“You asked me one time,” he starts quietly, “about why I quit school. And I -- “

“Don’t -- ” you interrupt, “-- you don’t owe me an explanation.”

He shakes his head.

“Uh yeah,” he chuckles cynically. “Yeah, I do. I owe you pretty much any explanation you want at this point.”

You look down at where your hands are joined, down to where Jungkook is rubbing the calloused pad of one thumb against your palm.

“My mom got sick. And it didn’t feel right to stay in school when I could be working and helping to bring in some money.”

You remember the dig you made at him -- the way his face had shuttered -- and you feel an acute pang of guilt.

“I’m so s --”

“No, listen to me please,” he says adamantly. “She’s doing a lot better now and I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. But I need you to know that for every good thing I’ve ever done, I have done something equally as fucked up. And I just want -- “

He exhales heavily, scrubs one hand along his jaw.

“ -- I just want you to know that this shit with the money and the running is just some of me. I’ve done some really stupid shit but that’s not all I am.” He leans closer to you, pins you with that bottomless gaze. “I need you to understand that. Am I making any sense?”

You swear you can feel your heart squeeze in response.

“Yeah, you are,” you say softly. He reaches one hand out to cup your cheek.

“So can I kiss you now or are you still mad at me?”

You’re tempted to tease him but he looks so unsure of himself in this moment that you resist. You look down at yourself, remember you are still in sweaty running gear and cringe imagining what you must look like at this moment.

“I’m gross,” you protest in a whisper.

He leans closer, mouth hovering just over yours.

“Ask me if I care.”

******************************

Jungkook at least has the decency to let you shower before taking to you bed.

But just barely.

The second you are clean and dry he’s on you, mouth and hands everywhere at once. Your skin -- already warm from the hot water -- heats even more under his touch.

He’s different tonight you think, as you lie back on your bed and his lips work up the column of your throat. There’s a determination to the way he’s holding you, an urgency to the way he’s pressing his body against yours.

You stroke your hands down his back, feel the answering ripple of muscle underneath your fingertips. His body is leaner than it was in Puerto Rico and the realization sparks a sad throb in your chest.

Nicaragua must have been a lot tougher than he’s letting on.

But then his lips skate across your collarbone and you force yourself to push the thought from your mind. Whatever happened to him there is over. He’s here and he’s okay and he is literally on top of you and that’s the only thing you want to think about right now.

“I missed you,” he whispers and a shudder runs up your spine in response.

You rake your nails against his nape, fingers teasing his freshly cut hairline and he makes a satisfied groan against your mouth, pressing his hips firmly into yours.

It’s impossible at this point to ignore the nudge of his hard cock against your stomach. You snake a hand between your bodies to wrap warm fingers around his pulsing length and he pulls back to suck in a pained breath.

“Jungkook, I -- “ you start to speak, but an uncomfortable tickle in the back of your throat stops you. He opens his eyes to look down at you.

“You okay?”

Hell no, you’re not okay.

It feels like if you open your mouth to answer him, you’ll cry and you are not a crier and he’s looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to say something -- anything.

“Yeah, I just…um,” you stumble over your words and it takes a moment for that uncomfortable feeling to subside long enough for you to speak. You have to wait until your voice comes out even and controlled before you can finish.

“I missed you, too,” you say, finally.

His lips curve into a small smile.

“I know you did.”

He drops his mouth down to pull at one soft nipple with his lips and teeth. You sigh, arching into his touch.

The soft exhalation seems to set Jungkook off, makes the steady grind of his hips pick up in speed. He tongues at your nipples until they are aching and hard then slips a finger into your channel to test your wetness.

He brings his mouth close to your ear, breath warm against the shell.

“I can feel just how much you missed me,” he teases in a low voice.

Arrogant bastard. He’s right, though.

You huff a laugh as his fingers work in and out of you slowly, drawing out your wetness. He covers your mouth with his as his thumb rubs slow circles against your clit and you moan into his kiss.

“Fuck me,” you say quietly and you feel the tremors that run down his back at your words. “Please,” you beg, “I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Jungkook kisses you again -- long and hard -- before pulling away to grab a condom from his jeans.

You take the moment to appreciate how handsome he is, chest covered in a sheen of sweat, lean body tense with the need for release. You watch the corded bands of his arms move as he crawls back onto the bed, sheathed and ready. He leans his weight on his forearms and the muscles in his shoulders become even more prominent as he lines his body up with yours.

You lift your head to suck at the hollow of his neck just as you feel the blunt tip of his cock nudge your entrance.

“Do it, Jungkook,” you moan, rolling your hips against him. “ Now.”

He groans as he obliges you, pushing slowly inside and you brace your hands around the tight muscles of his arms until you can feel him anchored deep.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “Every time it’s like I forget how good you feel.”

Strange how you were just thinking the same thing -- thinking about how no one else has ever pulled these responses out of you. It’s like your body knows this man -- like it knew him way before your brain ever did.

He rocks into you slowly, deeply, pelvis flush with yours each time he strokes to the hilt. His pace is languorous and it makes your entire body feel heavy with pleasure. You wrap your legs around him tight, willing him deeper even though you know that’s not possible.

The painfully unhurried rhythm is so, so good , but it’s not enough.

Not when you can feel the threat of your release building between your legs and you need more to get you there. You angle your hips up, trying to capture more of the friction.

Jungkook takes the hint, moving one hand to cup your ass. He pulls you into each snap of his hips, forces you to take every inch on every thrust.

“Come for me,” he pants. “I can’t hold out much longer.”

You can only whine your response, too fucked out at this point to form sentences. It takes just a few more deep, desperate thrusts to make you start to unravel. Jungkook lets go the instant he feels you start to quiver around him and he doesn’t back off, lacing his fingers into yours and pinning you down into the mattress with the full force of his body.

Once the loud moaning and desperate movements slow to a stop, he drops his forehead down on yours.

The two of you breathe each other’s air for a while until your chests stop heaving and your hearts stop pounding.

***********************

“When does this all go down?” you whisper, cheek pressed to Jungkook’s chest.

You’ve spent the last five minutes enjoying a warm, comfortable silence.

But that hasn’t stopped your mind from wandering back into worry.

Jungkook presses the length of your body into his side with one firm hand. You feel him tense when you ask the question.

“10 AM.”

“10 AM,” you echo numbly.

“Yeah,” he whispers, stroking lazy patterns with his fingers down your back.

“So,” he clears his throat. “Are you...ready to talk about what’s going on here?”

You’re glad that from this angle he can’t see your reaction, can’t see the flush that spreads over your face.

“No,” you mumble childishly.

“You’re such a brat,” he teases, dropping a kiss on your hair. “So fine. I’ll do the talking then. I met someone.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. She’s got her head on straight, and…” he trails off for a moment. “...she’s got me thinking about how I can get my head on straight, too.”

You smile into his skin.

“What’s she like?”

“Well, she’s a lot of different things at once. Kinda feisty, super smart, very cool,” he murmurs. “Unemployed, but hey — no one’s perfect.”

Your shoulders shake with laughter.

“Is she hot?”

“Nah,” he teases, and he jumps when you pinch his stomach. “Way better than hot. She’s beautiful. And she’s into me. Really, really into me.”

Your cheeks heat but you keep the tone light.

“How do you know she’s not just using you for sex?”

“Well in the beginning she was,” he chuckles. “But then she showed up for me in a big way. A really big way. So even though it’s really hard for her to come out and say how much she likes me, I already know. She’s already shown me.”

That uncomfortable itch in your throat returns when he says that. It’s so weird to be understood so thoroughly by someone you barely know.

“She sounds pretty amazing,” you say after the sensation subsides long enough for you to speak.

“Yeah, she is,” he whispers. “So I’m gonna go to this meeting tomorrow morning and try to fix the mess I’ve made. Cause maybe now I have a reason to stop being such a reckless asshole.”

You screw your eyes shut and will the unexpected tears that spring to your eyes not to fall.

“10 AM, right?”

He drops another kiss into your hair and pulls your body in closer.

“Yeah. 10 AM.”

**********************

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #ksmutclub #btswriterscollective #bangtanarmynet

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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 4 years

Text

BTS DRABBLE-Jungkook

Request: Vlogger!Jungkook records and documents the birth of his first son.

A/N: Listen. I have just straight up had a shitty day. So, to remedy that, I thought writing about some soft dad!Kookie would help me feel better.

Tags: BTS, BTS Drabble, Bangtan Boys, Bangtan Seonyendan, Bulletproof Boy Scouts, Beyond the Scene, Fluff, Dad AU, Husband AU, Vlogger AU, Jeon Jungkook, Dad!Bangtan, Dad!Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook x you, Jungkook x reader, Daeseok

Genre: Fluff

Warning: There will be descriptions of birth and labor.

Title: Who Cares?

“So another boy, huh?” Your doctor asks with a gentle smile, as she moves the ultrasound probe on your belly to find said baby’s heartbeat.

“Yep.” You nod, grinning over at Jungkook, who clutches your hand, eyes on the ultrasound screen, as the baby’s heartbeat sounds loud and clear and steady throughout the room suddenly.

“And are we going to be vlogging this one too, Jungkook?” Your doctor teases, showing you a clear view of your tiny son on the screen, as she flashes a smile in your husband’s direction.

“I don’t think so.” Jungkook laughs, a slight blush coming across his cheeks, as he winks at you. “I’ve given up on being a vlogger. And besides,” His lips pull back in a cheeky smile to reveal his bunny teeth. “I think (Y/N) would kill me if I tried that again.”

“You bet I would.” You say playfully, reaching out to pinch his arm lightly as your doctor laughs at your banter.

-Three Years Earlier-

“Okay. There we go. Perfect.” Jungkook mumbles to himself, checking once more to make sure that he is perfectly in the camera frame before he starts the recording once more. “Hey guys!” He waves into the camera and makes sure to smile big for those who will be watching. “It’s an exciting night over here!”

Jungkook tries to hold the camera steady as he jogs down the hallway and back to your bedroom, where you are leaning on the bed, stuffing clothes and belongings and baby items into an overlarge backpack.

“Jagi, say hi!” Jungkook glances at the camera, as he holds it out to show you in the frame, and he motions for you, behind the lens, to acknowledge the video.

“Hello.” You roll your eyes, your voice disinterested and clipped, as you zip up the backpack and turn to Jungkook, who is fiddling with the camera. “Kook, come on. Can we go now? These contractions are starting to hurt like a bitch.”

As if on queue, you lean back over the bed, letting out a slight groan, as you clutch your swollen belly and try to breathe through the contraction pain.

“Oh, right!” Jungkook rushes to your side, supporting you as you work through the birth pain, but does not forget about his audience as, rubbing soothing circles onto the small of your back, he says directly into the lens, “We’re having a baby tonight! Little boy Jeon is own his way!”

“Jungkook.” You whine out after the contraction has faded enough for you to stand up straight again. “Put the damn camera away and take me to the hospital!”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jungkook exclaims, reaching for the backpack, but not before sneaking one more wink to the camera before he reaches for the off button. “See you guys at the hospital.”

********

“Shit!” You let the expletive fall from your lips as you sink back against the hospital bed, breathing like you have just run a marathon after the last killer contraction that had just swept over your body.

“Jagi’s doing really well, guys.” Jungkook moves to grab his camera up once more from where it had been sitting in the corner, filming the scene of you, suffering through the pain in your hospital bed, before he moves to your side and leans over to squeeze your hand, putting you both in the frame. “We’ve been here about 5 hours, and the nurse said she’s getting close to pushing.”

“Kook, I need ice.” You breathe out, adjusting the wet, cool rag that is draped across your forehead, ignoring his camera and filming entirely.

“Got it.” Jungkook jostles the camera slightly as he reaches for the bedside table, and leaning over to plop a few small ice cubes onto your tongue, he settles down in the chair beside your bed, as he says into the video, “So, like I said, we’ve been at the hospital for about 5 hours now, and,” Jungkook pauses in what he’s saying to look up away from the screen and to the clock, before he refocuses, voice low so as not to disturb you. “Jagi’s made it this far all on her own. No pain meds, no help. She’s superwoman.” He flips the camera to catch a glimpse of where you lay, eyes closed, a thin sheen of sweat on your face. “She’s really beautiful, huh?”

“Kook. Don’t lie.” You crack open your eyes barely, and he flashes you a grin, as you manage a weak smile in his direction, just before you feel the telltale tightening happening once more around your middle. “Kook!”

“That’s my cue.” Jungkook says quickly, standing up and positioning the camera once more to capture the scene without his help, before he hurries to your side, where you clench onto his hands as if they’re your only lifeline.

“Ow, ow, ow!” You wail out, face screwing up, breathing growing erratic, as two nurses appear at the foot of your bed, standing silently as you battle through the contraction. “Ow, shit!”

When the pain is decreasing, you heave a long breath, and the nurses move forward, offering you sympathetic smiles, before one says, “Okay, (Y/N). You can push now, okay? We’re gonna hold your legs and on your next contraction, I want you to bear down. Do you think you can do that?”

You glance over at Jungkook, wide eyed and suddenly panicked. “I’m not ready. I’m not ready to be a mom, Kook.”

He looks slightly pale, as your fingers clench around his own, but he manages a wan smile and a chuckle, before he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead. “I hate to break it to you, love, but this baby’s coming whether we’re ready or not.”

As if triggered by his words, another contraction starts, and the nurses begin to nod, saying firmly, “Okay, (Y/N). Use this contraction to push.”

“Ow, ow, shit, ow!” You screw your eyes shut, pressing your chin into your chest and push, you push as hard as you’ve ever pushed in your life, and just when you feel as if you can’t push anymore and Jungkook’s fingers will fall off in your own, the pain is dying down, and you can breathe again.

“Good, good!” One of the nurses exclaims, before reaching up to you and taking your hand in yours. “Reach down here. Feel your baby’s head.”

Your fingers come into contact with a very wet, very sticky, very hairy head between your legs, and you gasp, looking over at Jungkook with wide eyes. “Oh my gosh, Kook, he’s actually coming!”

“Yeah, he is.” Jungkook reaches up to smooth hair back from your forehead, before he nods at you. “Let’s finish it then, jagi.”

He has completely forgotten about the video camera in the corner.

Another pain. Another push. Another eternal moment of agony and not being able to breath and then.

“He’s here!”

A cry splits the air, and a flurry of activity happens, and then one of the nurses is plopping a purple, wet, bloodied baby, black hair plastered to his little round head, directly on your chest.

“Oh, oh.” You gasp out, still catching your breath from pushing, your body starting to shake all over from the exertion of the last several hours. But none of that, none of that compares to the feel of your baby boy in your arms, his tiny mouth pursed as he fusses, tiny eyes screwing closed, minuscule fists reaching out to clutch at the materal of your hospital gown.

You glance up at Jungkook, who is standing beside the bed, silently looking down at his son, eyes slightly more shiny than they were a moment before. “We did it, Kook. We did it.”

“We did it.” He repeats, before he crouches down, reaching out a careful and slightly hesitant finger to brush across his son’s still damp head of hair.

“Would dad like to cut the cord?” One of the nurses asks, holding up a pair of surgical scissors and looking to you both questioningly.

You nod, and Jungkook nods, before he leaves your side and steps down to the nurse, taking the scissors and clipping his son’s cord easily with one motion.

“Oh my gosh. Hi, baby boy.” You whisper, not being able to help running your fingers over all of the baby’s soft, wrinkled, downy skin. “Hi Daeseok.”

“He has so much hair.” Jungkook says in awe, crouched down once more beside you, as he looks at the baby, tiny fist now stuck in his mouth, with wide eyes.

“I know. He looks a lot like you.” You remark, still not looking up from the baby, hand now stroking across the drying strands of dark hair. “Did you get it on tape?” You glance up at your husband and, suddenly remembering, you glance toward the camera, forgotten in the corner. “The birth? Did you get it on video, Kook?”

“Who cares?” Jungkook asks softly, not even glancing over at the still rolling camera, as he once again reaches out to touch his newborn son.

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roses-ruby · 5 years

Text

{Bunny Cam}

Jungkook x Female Reader

Genre: Stalker AU, Angst, Smut, Mature

Warnings: Masturbation, Oral (Male receiving), Sex but not really, Obsessive/Possessive behavior, Toxic relationships, Yandere, Cursing, Spanking, Homophobia, Mentions of a slur, Mentions of gore, Murder, People being shitty

Word Count: 14,242

Summary: He watches when you sleep, he knows if you’re awake. He knows if you’ve been bad or good, so be bad only if you dare.

A/N: Lmao, the summary fucking sucks akfbkfbouhfo (so does the story). I planned this for kookie’s birthday but I wasn’t finished so fuck me. This is pretty dark so please be careful and make sure you read the warning! Edited but I’m always a dumbass so let me know if you find any mistakes. Also let me know what ya’ll think🥺 As always, enjoy!

He’d been at this for a while.

Well, a while could mean a considerable number of things. Let’s say he’s been at this for a long time; more accurately 3 years. He had your schedule memorized to a fault. The way you liked your eggs in the morning to the number of panties you owned, he could answer it in his sleep. He probably does, he thinks. Mumble about you in his sleep. You occupied his mind 24 hours in a day, and that’s why he felt he should be watching you all the time – like right now, as he sits uncomfortably on top of the willow tree next to your window. Perched in a posture that embarrasses him, with a branch digging into his inner thigh.

It’s all worth it when you finally come out from your steaming bathroom, a towel hanging dangerously low on your chest, showing the beginnings of your soft mounds. He almost moans at the sight, both from frustration at your tardiness and the sudden tightening of his crotch. Positioning his camera in front of his face, he eyes your figure through the lens. Careless yet graceful, you dance around your room from one end to another picking up your laundry and placing it in a basket. His camera softly shutters each time he decides to save a pose from you, which happens a lot. He wonders if he’ll get lucky once you head to your dresser and pick out a light orange sundress. A smile graces his features at your choice. It was one of his favorite dresses on you. But sadly, luck was not on his side as you come up to the window and shut the eggshell curtains on him.

Huffing, he sits up a tad to find the ledge he uses to exit the tree with his leg.

He learned the hard way that once you closed your curtains, you usually don’t open them for the rest of the day; so now he has to head home. He was disappointed of course, he wanted to continue watching you – especially in that dress. But its fine, better things await him at his house. Shoving his camera inside his satchel, he jumps off your back porch and runs to the alleyway a few meters from your place. There in the dark lane lays his locked bike, which he unlocks and hops on – beginning his ride home. He lived a few blocks away from you, not having the money to live in your side of town; but once he did, he planned on becoming your neighbor. It didn’t matter if you already had one, he knew he could take care of them easily.

After peddling for around a mile, he parks his bike near the run-down, motel-like apartment complex he lived in. Binding it to the rusted and useless ‘Cheap rooms available!’ board pole, he runs up the stairs to the second floor. The whole place was dirty, rat and roaches scurrying the floors ever so often, and there was a strong musty smell that enclosed the compound. The paint from the walls was chipping – tainted by unrecognizable stains and the wooden foundation grew mold. He hated this place, even if the rent made up for the appearance. Often, he would get into a quarrel with the land-owner, despising the man’s careless attitude towards the residence as well as toward his own rotten teeth and hairy chest. One day, he’d love to grab a blade and slice it right through the old man’s heart, but he promised you he’d only kill for you. Stomping his way past the ancient doors, he makes it to his own and slams it shut once inside.

His sanctuary.

Switching on the light of his small studio, he walks to the computer, settling his bag down by the twin bed. He scratches under his ribs over his hoodie as he settles into his chair. The tree by your house was filled with blood sucking bugs and he should probably do something about it, but he’s always so distracted by you he barely remembers to get other shit done. There was evidence of that scattered all over his cramped space, especially the floor. The 4 walls surrounding him are filled with photos of you on various days and angles. Polaroids of you hang in a line from a string on the ceiling, stretching out from one end of the room to the other. In front of him are multiple monitors, which he opens to reveal a video of you on your bed in your room. He lets out a content sigh at the sight of your calm form laying on your bed with a book. Your beauty shone even through the grainy pixels of the tiny spycam he hid in your room.

Moving the live feed to the smaller monitor on the right, he pulls up the spycam taping your bathroom, or more so your shower. He shuffles around his desk, picking up an open beer can from underneath his table. Relaxing back in his chair, he rewinds the broadcast to around 40 minutes ago, taking a sip of his drink. There you were, climbing into your shower, closing the glass door behind you. His eyes greedily graze your naked form, your radiant skin, the curve of your slender back, the way your nipples perked forward at the cold air. He was so glad he spent the extra money on this spycam with higher definition than the others hidden around your house, even if it left him broke for a month. His breath hitches when you slightly bend down to turn on the faucet, messing with the knob to get the perfect temperature for your shower with your ass on display. What he wouldn’t give to spread your cheeks apart, run his tongue along your folds and anus, drive his thick fingers deep into your cunt and have you dripping down his arm.

He didn’t notice how hard he was clenching the aluminum can until it exploded all over him, soaking through his jeans and hoodie. Groaning he picks up the tissue box next to his bed and begins wiping himself off. It was good that he became distracted before he could get too worked up, it was still light out and he didn’t want to be spent before midnight again. Throwing the tissues next to the other used tissues on the floor he gets back to doing his favorite thing. Pausing the window of your shower he brings back the live feed of you in your room to the main monitor. He smiles at you still lounging on your bed, the book placed over your chest as you scrolled away on your phone. You could be so lazy on the weekends, he cooed at your leg haphazardly dangling off the side of the bed. He loved it when you stayed indoors by yourself like a good little girl, it meant he could have you all to himself for the periods he spent watching you. It was just him and you, no one who could disturb his time between you both.

It isn’t clear to him when exactly you stopped connecting with the outer world. Perhaps it was when your lovers mysteriously vanished 3 years ago, or when men stopped trying to flirt with you all together. He recalls how scared you had been when officers came to interrogate you, and as bad as he felt – as much as he wanted to blow the heads off their burly bodies – he knew you deserved it for thinking you could make room in your life for anyone that wasn’t him. Or maybe it was because your best friend refused to talk to you ever again; a small rumor making its way to her ear about how you slept with her dad. Which was easy to believe seeing how he’d been fucking girls younger than his daughter for years. Most likely it’s when your parents cut off contact with you, the reigning black sheep of the family, when they received the sex tape you shot with your ex marked from you. An ex he ended up smashing each finger off of. Whatever it was, it was definitely because the gods had blessed him. You were meant for him and only him, and the circumstances that had all seemed to work in his favor only solidified that fact.

It was when he was off reminiscing about the most important years of his life that he bumped his leg into a hard brick-like object under his desk.

“Fuck,” He curses as his legs feels a light ting. Rolling back in his chair, he stares at the culprit that was the large stack of white paper. The manager had handed it all to him yesterday after he finished his second week of overtime; ‘to be stapled and collated’ he said. That motherfucker. Because of him – not only did Jungkook not have time to get home earlier to you, but he had to haul the hefty pile of papers uphill on his bike.

Whatever he thought about that guy doesn’t matter – he should get started on this task soon. Since this job is the one job he can’t afford to lose. So, with a heavy heart the young man clears his desk of the old ramen containers and sperm tissues and empty weed bags with one swift arm movement, cringing when he hears them hit the floor. Bending down, he easily heaves the stack up onto his now empty desk and begins to shuffle through them. Then he looks back up at you who’s back to reading her novel. If there was one thing he’d never do, it was show you how much of a slob he actually was. He couldn’t bear the thought of you finding him disgusting, so when he finally got you, he knew he’d do all the cleaning and housework. And that was fine with him, as long as he got to enjoy being a bit filthy while he was alone in this dreaded place. You would never find out, of course.

He starts to read the first document he grabs, something useless about company liability. Then he moves on to the next one, and the next. Until his mind is full of words and a yawn is crawling up his throat. Jungkook eyes you every few minutes or so, making sure you were still be his good girl. And that’s how he ends up spending his energy that day.

He wakes up with a large intake, forcing himself to sit up with his nose feeling strangely stuffed and his spine aching. As he adjusts his groggy vision, he notices the documents in a neater stack on the edge of his desk. That’s when he recalls the night before – how he was double tasking while trying to keep an eye on you lounging about. How you both took a break for dinner and watch some stupid melodrama with that tall actor you liked. And how he finally fell asleep on his desk at 2 in the morning while stapling said documents after you turned your lights off.

Jungkook didn’t have money for night vision cameras yet, but he was working on it! It sucks that everything was so expensive these days, especially love.

Yawning, he stretches his arms and back as he opens his sleeping screens hoping to see your face to cheer up his otherwise crappy consciousness. His face quickly falls however, when he notices you’re not in your bedroom or bathroom or living room or even your driveway.

Shit.

He freaks out and jumps out of his chair in sore legs, reaching for his bag on the bed.

9:12 his phone displays – making his round face turn pale. Running around in his room, he rushes to get ready. His bladder was especially full of the beers from last night. Other than that, there wasn’t much he had worry about since everything could be easily completed by multitasking. Such as brushing your teeth while pulling up your socks or combing your hair and looping your belt. After chaotically tying his white striped tie around his collared neck, he spritzes on the expensive cologne you once mentioned you like on a man, spraying on a bit more than usual since he hadn’t had time to shower. With that, he stuffs the skillfully collated and stapled documents into his black leather satchel and sprints out the door.

20 minutes later he was in front of the 25-story glass building. His nerves were eating at him as he hastily locked in his bike and entered the automatic doors. In front of him stood a black suited man in shades with his arms crossed.

As Jungkook jogged up a couple steps, the man raised his huge hand to stop him.

“I.D. please,” He spoke in a gruff voice

“Right,” Jungkook zipped open the front pocket of his satchel and brought out an employee I.D., swinging it around his neck. The man stepped aside, and he let Jungkook scan his I.D. in the machine next to him, that let out a green light afterward – letting him inside the small screen doors. He exhaled a breath, continuing his run to the elevators and punching in his floor. His insides felt like they were plummeting the whole ride up.

He really just wanted to quietly go to his desk, without making any ruckus or causing a scene but luck wasn’t on his side this time as the first person he sees when the doors slide open is his aging supervisor and his scowl. Once the man thoroughly eyes him in minor surprise of running into him, he frowns.

“You’re late,” The man grit through his yellow teeth

“I’m s-sorry, sir. I was up all night an-”

“I didn’t ask for excuses Jeon,” He sneers, “This is the second time this month, once more and I’ll have you kicked out of here- ass first, understand?”

“Yes sir,” Jungkook bows and steps aside to let the man use the elevator.

Before the doors slide close, his supervisor gives him another threatening glare. “Did you finish what I ordered? I’ll be back soon, and I better not find one mistake on those documents, you hear me Jeon?

“Yes sir” Like hell you’ll be back soon, you aging bastard.

Once he’s out of sight, Jungkook let’s out a sigh. He thought he was gonna lose his job today for sure. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Mr. Jang to act this way towards him and most of the team. The only people – correction women he’s nice to are the ones he finds fuckable. Still, he’s glad this didn’t happen in front of you.

He opens the doors to the office space, breathing in the cold air conditioning and watching everyone scurry about as usual. Some girls glance at him as he indifferently passes them on his way to his corner. His desk was luckily located with yours directly in front. Even though yours was closer to the Manager’s office and his was further back near the conference room. When he sits down in his chair, he notices you’re not at your desk. For a few minutes, he just eyes your empty area with confusion. The worry he felt this morning crawling back into his system.

But it quickly dissipates once you make your way out of the manager’s office, a few files in tucked under your right arm. Jungkook’s mood easily shifts at the sight of you and his heart starts to beat faster. He couldn’t go too long without seeing you, your graceful figure in that tight pencil skirt flawlessly hugging your hips. You sat at the front with rest of Team A who you supervised. Your side of the lineup were considered company gems; the pay was better, working conditions were more lenient and you all even had a dental plan. Sadly, thanks to him not knowing what to do and ultimately dropping out of college, he was grouped into Team B – the dispensable ones. His group was overworked and underpaid – even though the company made it seem like they treated all their employees equally. That was total bullshit.

And they had the worst fucking supervisor. An ancient stickler tyrant who acted like he was stepping out for business when Jungkook knew he was out fucking some blonde prostitute he was obsessed with in some cheap motel behind his sick wife’s back. Nothing in this company benefitted him. Not the pay, not the hours, and definitely not the bitchass supervisor. Nevertheless, he slaved all his days in this building for you. Looking up in your direction again, he smiles. He got to see you every day and that was enough for him. As long as you remained here, he would never quit. Just then a scowl made its way onto his soft features. What were you doing in the manager’s office half the time? Jungkook knew it wasn’t anything like that – that you were just doing your job, but doesn’t he call you in way too many times a day? His fingers clenched the strap of his bag as Jungkook thought about that man making a move on you.

You’re not good enough.

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice the clacking of heels and a pleasant scent light up his area.

“Jungkook?”

He jumps when he hears your voice, rolling back slightly. There – in front of him you stood with a large halo surrounding your figure. His throat feels caught as you meet his eyes and raise an eyebrow. You were the most beautiful being in the universe, he bet even angels compared themselves to you. But they wouldn’t hold a candle. Jungkook felt over the moon at your proximity, cameras couldn’t capture the absolute divinity you embodied so casually. The tip of your nose, the smoothness of your glowing skin, the light makeup over your eyelids. Even the posture you stood in was lethal. Everything was luring him in until he was completely lost and at your mercy, and he’s certain that showed on his face. He sucks in a breath as he hears you speak again, some uneasiness in your melodious tone.

“Umm…you’re Jungkook, correct?”

As he processes your expression at his odd behavior, he forces himself out of his reverie. Can’t have you thinking he’s a weirdo.

“Y-Y…Yes,” He manages

“Oh, good. I was just wondering if you have those documents Mr. Jang asked for? He called to tell me he would be a bit late and if I could retrieve them and give them to Mr. Kim”

Jungkook had always wanted to skin the face off his supervisor, but in this moment, he’s never adored a man more in his life. You actually came all the way over here and talked to Jungkook because of that old man’s incompetence. He hopes Mr. Jang receives the blowjob of his life today.

You eye the boy staring at you with wide bunny eyes. He was always so strange, you wondered why your female colleagues gushed over him so much. You were about to speak again when he stands up straight – making your startled feet shift backwards slightly.

“Umm…Yes!! I have them,” Jungkook states with his voice higher than usual. He opens his satchel and digs out all the documents, presenting them to you with one hand.

“Oh, thank you,” As soon as you reach out for them and bumped your hand into his accidently, he let’s all the documents go. They fall to the floor with a loud ‘thunk’ making a few heads in the neighboring desks turn your way. “Oops.”

You bend to the ground, gathering up all the paper once again. Most of them were in stapled piles, so thankfully they didn’t scatter around too much. When you assembled the bunch, you look back up at him from your position on the floor. His eyes seemed like they would pop out of his skull and you thought you heard him gulp as he continued to observe your position on the ground. Slowly you stand up straight, feeling unnerved.

“Thank you,” You say once again holding the documents on your chest. When you fail to obtain a response, you just awkwardly turn around, sensing his eyes following you all the way back to your desk.

What a weird guy.

Jungkook’s legs feel like a frail horse once he makes it back home. Trudging up the stairs and into his room with a slumped back, he jumps right into bed and kicks off his office shoes. He covers his eyes with his arms.

Then he smiles, stretching his pink lips and displaying his bunny teeth. He smiles so big and wide.

Wow. Wow. Wow. WOW.

You graced his presence. You talked to him. You even touched him.

Holding his face in his hands, he rolls around the compact bed like a teenage girl. Holy shit. This was real.

It’s not that you hadn’t spoken to him before – I mean you both did work in the same company for years and he’s wrote down previous dates of conversations in his both his calendar and journal. But you’ve never made this much eye contact, he’s never got to study your face this close for so long, and you definitely had never touched him. He almost exploded right then.

And then, the part that virtually killed him. You were on your knees…right below him. Innocently staring back up at him. FUCK!

Jungkook groans as recalling that image has him hard instantly. His mind was racing, and he felt he was going crazy with his body temperature continuing to climb. The sun was just beginning to set which let orange streaks of light into his room through the blinds. He huffs as his hand caresses down his torso to grab his bulge, hissing when his fingers make contact. Swiftly, he unbuckles his slacks, pulling them off his butt to rest on his knees. He continues to fondle his hard on through his briefs, moaning when imagining your soft hand instead of his much larger one.

His imagination takes him back a few hours ago, with you on your knees in front of him. But this time there’s no documents on the floor to pick up. This time, no one else is around the chattery office space – unworthy peasants breathing the same air as you. This time, your eyes have a dark undertone in them as you sit there without any clothes on. Your skin was as smooth as porcelain, color reflecting the ceiling lights of the office. He holds his breath when you take your right breast in your hand, pinching your perky nipple with your thumb and index finger. No distractions. No distance. It’s just you and him, and this heavy atmosphere.

“Jungkook,” You say in a sultry tone, crawling closer to him on all fours.

“Fuck,” He curses as you hook your fingers into the waist band of his underwear, slowly pulling the cloth down with a smirk. Jungkook catches a tiny gasp from you as his erection springs up to his stomach in front of your face. You lightly grab the underside of his shaft as his breathing becomes heavy. Poking your tongue out – you lick a stripe up his dick, and he tenses, shoulders rolling back with a shiver. With a mischievous glint, you bring your tongue around the top, swirling his precum over his head while tracing a vein up his shaft with a manicured finger. Your hand bobs up and down his dick as you continue to skillfully twirl your tongue around the tip. His hand clenches tightly as you wrap your pretty lips around the head and hallow out your cheeks to suck.

“Ahhnn,” He hopes you don’t mind his loud, sort of feminine moans. But he still bites his lip to suppress them.

You remove yourself with a pop. Your hand was still gripping around his dick, steadily moving along his rod. Stretching your lips, you wink up at him and he has to do everything in his power not to fall to the ground. He was light headed with lust clouding his vision. The room had gotten dimmer sometime ago, he could only make you out as he did this morning. Your strawberry scent invading his rationality as you sat in front of him. Your honey tone as you repeated his name. The way your red lips curved with every syllable you spoke. Lips you were once again opening as he took your luscious locks in his fingers and directed his dick along your mouth. For a moment he just traced around your lips, glossing them with precum. These lips were his possession along with the rest of you, only he gets to claim them. Then he brought his head back inside your mouth, watching you take all of him in with hooded eyes. Inching his way inside, he saw your jaw go slack and lids flutter the more he forced himself in. You looked so beautiful with tears surrounding your sockets as you struggled to breath when he hit the back of your throat.

“You’re so perfect baby,” Your warm cavern was made for this – for him. Once he feels your throat muscles relax against him, he takes himself out ever so slow, obsessed with how wet his dick became with your saliva. Just to push himself inside again, holding your head down as you struggled. He threw his head back, failing to keep his moans quiet as you gagged around him with your nails pushing at his thighs. Tightening his fingers amongst your hair, he pulled your head back with force before he stuffed you full of himself once again.

He keeps that pace swift and harsh, frustrated at how you were always a few feet from him yet still so far away. This is what he needs, what he craves. His heart beats harder every time he shoves into your wet entrance, watching the way hot tears roll down your cheek but you don’t try to fight off his brutal thrusts. Saliva was sticking at the edge of your lips; your jaw was practically unhinged at his girth and lipstick was smeared all over his dick. You let him use your face like a fuck doll, rolling your eyes into the back of your head as he speeds up with his orgasm approaching.

“You – you’re so beautiful,” He grunts with every thrust “My angel, my doll, my fuck toy. M-Mine. Mine. Mine.”

Words slurred against his mouth as you laid your tongue flat against his shaft, slick dripping of your chin. As his arms fell to his sides, you once again took control of bobbing your mouth and hand against his length. It was really just himself and his own fingers but God he could imagine it so well. He could retrace every part of your body – practically ingrained in his mind from how much time he spent stalking observing you. Hours would go by of him watching you masturbate. Memorizing each facial expression of yours. Thirsting for your heat – this thirst, this is exactly how’d you feel. Jungkook could practically taste it.

He cums with one last push inside your warm mouth and a loud cry of your name.

Opening his eyes, he takes in large breaths gaping at the ceiling of his apartment. Holy fuck, it’d been a while since he came so hard. Chest moving up and down – it takes a moment for him to calm himself. Still high off your pretty face stuffed with his dick. He lays limp in his bed, bringing his hand up to see the insane amount of cum covering his palm. This part always brought him an odd grief. Having to ‘wake up.’ Be alone in his dirty room with your divine company no longer in sight. There was an empty feeling, not just in his balls but in his heart. It was all your fault. Coming near him with those big doe eyes, practically begging him to fuck you on your knees. Yet you wouldn’t let him…not right now. Fuck. Fuck you.

Jungkook knew it wasn’t the right time, that you didn’t know him well enough for him to make a move, but his patience was wearing thin. He had to act fast since he desperately wanted this dream to become a reality.

You were typing away at your keyboard screen, finishing whatever goddamn report of the month. At this point, you were moving in autopilot not even registering any words that were making their way onto the screen. Your back aches as you sigh, you really hated this job. If the pay wasn’t so good, you would’ve quit so long ago. The only good thing about this company was the dental plan really, and the big house you got to afford due to your wages. Co-workers of yours were snarky pieces of shit who excluded you in any activities due to you being the boss’ favorite. Communicating with them was always troublesome, which is why you were here working overtime alone on this 4-person job. At least your co-supervisor was a nice old guy who acted like a gentleman. Really trashy towards his own team though and you were pretty sure he was cheating on his sick wife. When you were almost done with the last paragraph, your phone next to your coffee mug decided to buzz and interrupt the silent, dim office space.

You pick it up reluctantly, already knowing who’d be behind the bright screen. As usual, your misery proves you correct as the name of your arrogant dick for a boss flashes on your phone screen. He was one of those types; the men that feel like they’ve led a hard-working life because they went to a prestigious college without a sport’s scholarship even if they enrolled with their rich parent’s money. Any sort of self-reflection towards their privilege fails to register within them. This man called you for fifty things a day even though he had his own slutty secretary on her knees every time he asked. Maybe you’d feel for the girl if she wasn’t scowling at you whenever you passed by her desk to reach his office. You knew she hated you because he had a thing for you. When he wasn’t calling you in just to subtly check out your ass, he was making passive sexual remarks in completely normal work-related conversations.

It’s not like you didn’t find him attractive. He was tall, dark and you knew he was eating rich with how much time you spent eyeing his muscles. But god was he dumb as fuck. And he didn’t enthuse you any bit, other than maybe imagining him pounding into you from behind with his thick fingers wrapped around your neck. Sexual attraction was normal you suppose – you were two young attractive adults after all. But other than that, you really desired nothing to do with him. Actually, you desired no relationship with anyone at all, for that matter.

Since your last boyfriend’s disappearance three years ago, you recall being too scared to date for a while. Staying at home 24/7 and opting to buy some large dildos in the place of men. But that fear had left you long ago. Slowly, you became someone who just didn’t care in searching for fairytale romance or a passionate night with the love of your life. Instead you just wanted to feel the thrill of being alive, that ecstasy of feeling afraid – waiting for the unknown. You wanted to feel like you did when you saw your dead boyfriend’s horribly mutilated corpse. But that moment had fled too fast and everything around you had become predictable in some gloomy, miserable pattern – with nothing to excite you. Your life had actually become so unbearably boring that you had all the time in the world to accept these insane thoughts into your head, with no one to stop you from so. There was no point in shame any longer, you had your fair share of that when your isolation first started turning you insane.

The more reclusive you stayed, the more apathetic you became.

Sighing, you click on his name to see what he wanted with you at this lovely time of the evening.

‘Had Lana review the documents

She said a page is missing from the last stack

Ask the intern about it’

Of course, he would think Jungkook was an intern. He surely paid him like one. You look up at his empty desk. For once in their despondent lifespan, Team B was allowed to head home on time. Great that meant you’d have to talk to that oddball again in the morning. Lost in thought at your dreadful near future, you get startled as your phone buzzes yet again.

‘More importantly, we’re still up for tmrw night, right?😉’

Staring at the screen with insignificance, you type your reply with bitter fingers.

‘Of course, sir❤’

When you’re about to type him a reply for the ‘intern’ text, a twinkle from across the room catches your eye. You glance back up to see the outline of an unfamiliar object on Jungkook’s desk. Peering into the indistinct space, you desperately tried to make out what was sticking up from his otherwise flat desktop. Oh, right! It hit you then – that was the black bag he carries around daily.

Honestly, you always thought he was weird, and you didn’t pay much attention to Jungkook. Writing him off as another tedious side character that appears in your timeline here and there. The ladies of the office surely seemed to disagree with you, obsessively gushing over his bunny-like features and sturdy physique. Little boys like him didn’t interest you. But you did find yourself studying him sometimes – you’ve always been a curious person – which is why you knew he carried that bag everywhere with him, never letting it out of his sight. Even today, he handed you the pile of papers straight from that satchel. He kept everything in there, how could he forget it here?! Although…he did look out of it the whole day today after your small interaction with him. Maybe he was unwell?

Whatever it was, the situation at hand was more important. If you told your boss Jungkook had left for home, even though he had every right to, he might get fired. That man was impulsive and became furious over the dumbest situations. He once fired an employee that gave 16 years to this company for not ‘ordering the right cupcakes for his favorite client.’ Groaning, you stand up and walk across the office to Jungkook’s desk, your heels clacking amongst the floor. As you thought, it really was his bag that was thrown on his desk.

It wasn’t right to look through his things and you didn’t want to, but you couldn’t have this young man losing his job over something as small as this. Something you can easily fix…hopefully. But why should his status at the company concern you in the least anyway? If he is or isn’t thrown out, it wouldn’t harm your life in at all. Crossing your arms in irritation at the headache starting from the battle of your moral interpretations, you reason that it wouldn’t hurt you to do one kind thing. Perhaps it might land you that promotion you were seeking tomorrow.

You felt bad. Your gut told you something was wrong. What if it’s not in there and you just invade his privacy for no good reason?

With reluctance you grabbed his bag, opening the zipper in slow motion.

Jungkook was peddling as fast as he could. Stupid. Stupid. STUPID. How could he be so stupid. The whole fiasco with you talking to him today and his stupid hormones made him overlook something important. It was ridiculous how he was more concerned in getting home and jerking off to you then paying attention to any of his surroundings. Shit. If only you knew of the power you had over him. He didn’t even remember the dumb item until he was looking for his expensive camera when he recalled leaving it in that bag and leaving said bag back at his desk! Everyone had probably gone home by now, right? He knows some of the janitors steal from the pricks of Team A, but if a whole leather bag is on his desk won’t they at least take a glimpse? SHIT. Jungkook pushes his feet down on the peddles with great force, practically flying towards the workplace like a car.

There wasn’t any way he could afford for anyone to see what was on that camera.

Barging into the office on two left legs, he wheezes with his palms on his knees as he surveils the area around him. Most of the lights are off and the room is empty of life or noise. In a hurry, he had run into some of the caretakers downstairs and they told him they didn’t start on his floor yet. Out of habit, he glances at your desk, to find you staring at him with wide eyes. He straightens himself immediately, closing his mouth along with the racket of his breaths.

Why were you still here?

You had your hands hovering the keyboard and a fresh batch of coffee stood next to you. Were you supposed to be working overtime today? He thought it was tomorrow because he memorized your schedule for this month last week. Did your plans change without him knowing?

As he continues to leer at you, you clear your throat which makes him snap out of his daydream. Carefully, he turns away from you walking towards his desk. The bag is still right where he left it. He knows he can just grab it and go, but the fact that you’re here with him…alone of all things. How good could today get? Fuck, he thought he drained himself enough for today, but his mind was still racing with substantial thoughts. Would it be okay if he talks to you? Maybe he could help you out in whatever you were working on. Before he could get too far and freak you out, he grabs his bag and swings it around his shoulder. Turning around again he takes slow step, trying to seem casual. Was he walking too awkwardly? Did he look good in this hoodie?

When he’s a couple steps from the door, you call out to him.

“Jungkook?”

He faces you with giant deer eyes, “Yes?”

“I received a text from Mr. Kim stating that the last page from the documents you gave me this morning was missing. Do you think you have it in your bag?”

He takes a moment to process what you said, “Yes? Um…Oh right,” He begins digging in his satchel. And there it was, one single page – stuck to the bottom, ripped from the edge where it was originally stapled. The corner of his lip perks up when he finds his camera on top of the document. “Here you go”

Walking over to you, he hands out the paper and you notice it shaking in his fingers.

“Thank you, that’s all.” You say, gently taking the paper from his trembling grasp. Setting it down aside, you pick up your mug to take a sip of your coffee. It was still steaming so you blow on it slightly, puckering your lips. That’s when you notice the shadow in your peripheral vison. You look up to find Jungkook – still as a tree – gawking at you behind an unreadable expression.

“Yes?” You say in a confused tone

“N-no nothing” He stutters, clutching the straps of his bag tightly. “Sorry,” He states, before walking away from you. Turning his head subtly, he gives you one last glance before he heads out the door.

Jungkook was sure he was going to pop open his knuckles as his characters dies once again. He had been gaming for what – two hours straight? His room was lit with only his PC’s screens, and he’s sure his eyes would drop out of his sockets if he doesn’t close them soon. Also, he’d definitely lose his voice from screaming into his mic so much at the arrogant teenage brat who keeps mocking him. If only this damn kid appeared two days ago. His gameplay sucks because his focus is somewhere else – on someone else. Yesterday’s events had punctured both his mind and balls and he was completely spent. Yet you still continued to linger in his mind, like you had your hand wrapped around his brain.

It was destiny, Jungkook believes. It was a sign; the stars are telling him to make his move. Finally, after three years all he needed was some form of answer to his craving for you and he knows he’s received it as of yesterday. He was planning on talking to you by the end of the week, maybe asking you out to coffee like normal people do. There was always that fear of you saying no, but not after last night. Jungkook acknowledges he’s handsome, knows how people view him both in the office and out on the streets. Unlike some of the virgins on his server, he’s had his fair share of pussy before.

There were tons of different types he encountered. A few girls that were looking for a handsome fling. Others wanting arm candy. The most annoying girls repeatedly tried to find a way to get beneath the sexual layer – thinking themselves to be saviors or that he’s some poor lost ��badboy’ who needs saving – clinging onto him with their delusional fantasies. They were always the hardest to shake off. His favorite type were the girls who understood that they have no meaning to him, they just wanted to get spit on and choked during intercourse. This was all way before he met you, of course. Before he pledged his faithfulness to his and your relationship. Nevertheless, he does know how to get into a woman’s pants.

He wants more with you, however. He wants to hold your hand whenever he feels like it and laugh with you at the cheesy dramas you watch and come home to you when the dark thoughts in his head overwhelm him and his loneliness eats away his soul. Jungkook’s never understood what love is or why people put themselves through pain for something as silly as that, at least not until he met you. What he feels for you, its love isn’t it? It consumes him entirely and he numbs the ache of not having you by watching over you compulsively. By memorizing your habits, by making you as alone as he is. Funny…he thinks he’s become like those girls he hated. A more excessive version, perhaps.

Jungkook growls as he dies yet again and closes off his sever. Today was just not his day. He discards his headset and grabs his unfinished ramen cup, practically shoving the last of its contents into his mouth in one large take. Throwing it to the side, he grabs his energy drink and downs it in one go while he’s still chewing to help swallow without difficulty. Stretching his shoulders, he huffs, looking at the time on his screen. You were probably making dinner right now. Maybe watching a horror movie or finishing your novel. What if you were in that mood tonight, the one that made you rip off all your clothes and seize whatever sex toy you touched first in your drawer. He loved your dildos the most, he was always amazed at how they stretched out your cunt so nice and tight. Exactly like he wants to. Sometimes he’d break into your house just to lick them clean.

Shuddering from his thoughts, he opens his folder where he stores the camera records. His favorite part of watching you was the anticipation. He clicks the kitchen cam to find it empty. Okay, so you weren’t cooking. He goes on to click the living room cam. Also empty. In excitement, he clicks the bedroom cam…to find it blank? The screen was black, and it darkened his entire room. There was no sound or even static from the tape. Great…it’s probably broken.

He sighs, staring at the monitor in scrutiny. There were other times when his spycam’s malfunctioned or broke down over the past three years and it was always such a hassle. Barely managing to excuse himself from work to sneak into your house when you’re not around, finding the spycam (and maybe taking a trinket of yours), getting back home to diagnose it. And either spending hours fixing it or spending money replacing it. Then sneaking back in and placing it back up. Always took a lot of work and interesting fact he discovered – acting like a thief was sort of dangerous! Who would’ve thought? His ‘all black ensemble all the time’ hadn’t helped either. Your neighbor almost caught him last time.

Today was really not his day, but the important thing was to see what you were doing. He glances at his camera on the side of the desk. Would you have your window open tonight? Well…there was only one way to know for sure. He gets up from his chair, pausing a bit as his vision blacks out for a moment. When it returns, he grabs his camera and stuffs it in his satchel. Then he slips out of his sweats to pull up his jeans and has to sit on the bed to wear his heavy easy climb shoes. Once he picks up his keys, he’s out the door into the cool summer night.

The bike to your place was easy, the wind blew through his hair like a lullaby. His hair was getting quite long, most of it reaching halfway to his ears. He was going to cut it, but he saw you eyeing him last week. There was no way he was letting scissors come near him now, not with the way your gaze glossed over his strands.

He finally reaches the usual alleyway and locks his bike by a drain pipe, making sure to secure it tightly. The reason why he parked it here was so no one takes note of the large blue P5X in the middle of the backroad behind your house as it was too heavy to carry over your fence. Besides, he’d trust the abandoned alleyway any day over the quite suburban neighborhoods. If movies have taught him anything, it’s that the nice-looking places are always the deadliest. That’s another reason he’s installed cameras around your house; for your own safety.

Jungkook spots your place after a short walk, turning his slow steps into a quick jog. As he comes near, he notices the light of your bedroom window beaming into the road, and he quietly cheers. Your window was open – he finally gets to see your pretty face. When he was in front of your house, he hops the familiar fence into your slightly unkept backyard. Once he moves in with you, the first thing he’s going to do is mow the fucking lawn. He walks up to the willow tree standing sturdy by your window, waiting on him to climb on. He loved this fucking tree, it was truly a pure and majestic plant.

As usual, he grabs onto a firm piece of bark and he uses his shoe to push himself up. He repeats this process until he’s safely tucked into the branches of the large tree. As usual, the leaves were blocking his way, and also protecting him from getting caught. Using the leaves as a cover, he gets himself ready by pulling out his camera and perching himself on his stomach. And as usual he moved towards the light behind the leaves.

As usual. Everything was supposed to be as fucking usual. But today was not his fucking day, was it?

When he finally gets a view behind the leaves using the lens of his camera, he almost drops out the tree all together. He let’s out a loud involuntary gasp. His throat constricts and his eyes widen at the sight he’s met with.

He first saw your eyes, your beautiful shapely eyes clenched together in ecstasy. Then he saw your arms. Your healthy, silky arms grasping onto someone’s broad back. And then your legs. Your sexy, glowing skin folded on someone’s hips. Hips that should’ve been his. He moves his camera out of his sight, taking your position in with his own two eyes. There you were, with your jaw hanging open and your body blocked out by someone else’s, a body you were urgently clinging onto. From then on started the moans. He hadn’t registered them before until just now, his brain connecting the movement of your mouth to the soft moans just now reaching his ears. A shaky breath leaves him.

“Uhh – ahh-” You were getting fucked, up against your wall.

“There,” You were mewling for the man pounding your smaller frame

“Faster!” A sob leaves his throat, his pants tightening at the scene. No, he didn’t want to get hard at this, not when his heart was shattering into a million pieces. But his body refused to listen to him as his dick started leaking precum

There was slight sweat on your forehead, your eyebrows were furrowed, and your now open eyes were glazed with desire. The muscles of the stranger tense as he holds you, hard ridges producing beads of perspiration – both yours and his – leaving no distance between your entangled limbs. He doesn’t know what to feel, just that his body hurts a lot all of a sudden. He accidently presses the camera shutter, not noticing it taking one pick after the other of the dreadful scene in front of him. Suddenly you make eye contact with him and his whole figure freezes.

You were looking. Fuck. You were staring straight at him, he knows you could tell he was here. He should get the fuck out of here – leave this place immediately but he’s frozen. The pounding of his heart intensifies when you smile.

You were…smiling? You were staring straight at him and…smiling? What the fuck was going on? A chill ran down his spine.

While making direct eye contact with him, you smirk, bringing your hand up to grab your boss’ locks. “Right there, baby,” You groan, throwing your head back but still staring out that window. “Ahh-You do it so well, better than mm- anyone.”

Jungkook was crying. He felt the tears leaves his sockets one by one. It was those days again – the ones three years ago. When you would break his heart daily by casually dating or flirting. When he had to put together that revolting tape of you and your now ex. Nausea crept his insides, his arms felt limp. Only the shadows know how he survived that time period. And it was supposed to be gone, that retched habit of yours. You were only his now. Yet here you were, with that evil glint in your menacing stare, mocking him with every breath that left your lungs.

When the bastard moves his head to the side to nose your neck, is when Jungkook catches a glimpse of the man who tore you away from him. It was him…your boss. Jungkook’s breathing becomes heavy.

You were doing this on purpose. You were torturing Jungkook on purpose. But WHY?! Why would you do that to him? Are you punishing him? It’s not something he knows for certain, but he does know this man had corrupted you. He took you away from Jungkook. He made you become this cruel. And Jungkook doesn’t share what’s his, ever.

It was that sudden thought just then, that blackened his pupils and clenched his teeth. The tears became hot, leaving a fire in their trail and burning the skin of his cheek. He no longer cried out of utter devastation, but a new emotion fueled him – bought back the energy that drives him to pursue you. Anger. Red, hot, scorching anger.

“I’m gonna cum”

He can no longer digest the scene. His stomach churned at the sight and he forced himself away, jumping out of the tree and falling feet-first into the lawn. As he straightened up, the ache got worse, his head felt like it would explode any second. So, he leaned on the bark, trying to keep cool. It didn’t work though as his mouth dropped open and he threw up all over the roots of the plant. His throat constricted and he struggled to breathe, eyes wide at the misery at hand. When he was done vomiting his guts, he took a step back and observed the sight in coughs he tried to keep silent. Pieces of food had mushed together and dyed into a green unidentifiable gunk by his energy drink, drenching the roots and grass surronding of the tree. He felt so sick, eyes hazy and the gross stench filling his nostrils. As soon as his conscious cleared a bit, he ran away from the scene of the crime.

Jungkook ran from the tree. From your yard. From the long backroad. All the way back to that silent alley way, not once looking back.

He was out of breath once he found his bike. Too exhausted to drive for now, he rested his arms on the wall. That’s when he noticed some of the contents from his earlier actions got on his pants and he wiped away at them furiously, grunting loudly. His grunts soon became whimpers and his eyes blurred once again as he let out a loud wail. Why would you do this to him? Why? He did everything for you, just to be with you…so WHY?

His body is shaking as he hangs onto the wall, trying to wipe tonight from his mind. The longer he thinks about, the crazier he becomes. Images continue to plague his mind and he shouts curses into the wall as his crotch continues to ache.

Why was he hard at a time like this? What the actual fuck was wrong with him?

No longer having the energy to care, with one last curse he unbuckles his jeans and pulls out his raging dick. Immediately he starts stroking his shaft strong and fast, and he uses the last of his adrenaline to fuel his pace.

He can see it still, your naked form. The gorgeous expanse of your skin and your legs spread apart. Except this time, you’re bent over your bed with your ass on display for him. Only for him. Your hands are tied behind your back but you’re not struggling. Yet.

Grunting, he jerks himself off as he imagines raising his hand up – then landing it straight on your soft ass cheek. You cry out as you shift away from him only to have him hold you down with his other arm. The skin around your butt becomes a rosy color, his hand print appearing in the aftermath. Immediately his pupils blow out, breath coming in hefty takes as he one again raises his hand towards your other cheek.

“How *smack* dare *smack * you *smack*” He grits out the last word so hard that he accidently bites his tongue. The taste of iron swirled in his mouth. Your cries were muffled against the bed your face was stuffed in and it makes his heart ache. This isn’t what he wanted, he only wanted to make sweet love to you. Give you everything you asked for. But he was weak and inept…underprivileged and a good-for-nothing. His insecurities held him back for three fucking years, but he was trying. Groveling away in the only company that would hire him. Letting himself be belittled, ridiculed, endlessly worked…all for you. He was trying really hard. Hiccupping as tears fall down his face, he rubs against your bottom to sooth you, not taking his eyes off of your cunt.

In exchange, that man embodied everything he wasn’t. Money. Status. Power. He could provide for you – he could give you anything you wanted and maybe that’s why he got to touch you. Jungkook recoils, recollecting what a dumbass horndog he became just because his fingers brushed yours. How sad was it that after all his efforts, Jungkook was stuck behind his dirty 4 walls masturbating to thoughts of you every night while this man got to live his dream without even half the work? What had he done to deserve you?

Not good enough. Not good enough. You’re not good enough.

“W-Why…did you do that t-to *hiccup* me”

“Why, when I love you so much?” When he recalls what you did, all the anger comes back. Red paints his vision as he once again spanks you like crazy, not caring about your screams this time. With how you angled your ass, you were practically urging him to continue. Heat radiates from you and his palm, his mind traveling a mile a minute. He brings his thigh up to your core, enjoying the way you instantly soak through his jeans while whining at the stimulation. Not just your suffering but even your face wasn’t correctly recreating in his perception, because to him this wasn’t about you. It was about your lack of fucking respect for him. Right now, only his pleasure mattered to his brain.

Pausing his merciless attack, he enjoys the view of your dripping cunt. Once again mindlessly rubbing at your bottom. Grabbing your sore ass cheek with one hand, he positions his dick at your entrance with his other. He groans as he sinks into you, stretching your insides apart. Fuck, if it felt this good in his own mind then he can’t even fathom how it would feel in reality. As he settles all the way inside, he doesn’t wait for you to relax around him. No, he wouldn’t wait for you.

Instead he pulls out and slams against you balls deep with one swift thrust. His moans sound out in sync with your cries – pleading for his forgiveness.

Before he could help it, he cums right then – abruptly, unfinished and the fury still alive in his bones. Inhumane growls come from him as he’s faced with the red brick wall that he coats with hot white strings of his semen. Bumping his forehead onto that wall, he slows his breathing, watching as the white streaks drip down the uneven ridges of the bricks. Reality kicks in. This is how it would be every time, wouldn’t it? He wouldn’t get to be inside you, he wouldn’t get to taste you, and he would spend away his days ejaculating prematurely like a fucking child.

Unless he did something about this.

Something he hasn’t done in a while.

As the young man continues to stand alone in that alleyway, an idea forms in his head. Since you were staring at him in such a sinister way – no surprise or fright in your face – you know exactly what he was doing and probably who he was. For the first moment that night, he flashes his pearly whites. Looks like it was finally time for you both to officially meet.

The man paced as fast as his heavy legs could take him, trying his best to seem confident and not an object of suspicion. Sweat was building in his temple and he could feel it. In that moment, all of his senses were at their peak and he’d probably be able to feel the flutter of a fly’s wings or a mole beneath his feet. As he wasn’t the most athletic, he was already out of breath from the steps he had taken, but he clamped his mouth shut. His eyes wandered around everywhere, staying no place more than a few seconds.

When he opens the doors of the building, he’s greeted with another presence.

“Good evening Mr. Jang.” A young janitor, probably his son’s age tells him. It has an unsettling effect on him – one where his eyes widen, and eyebrows raise. He responds with a forced smile, teeth clamoring faintly, as he continues to walk on by.

“Yes, good evening.” The worker’s pupils follow the blue suited man all the way to the elevator, where they are involuntary required to make eye contact again as he waits for his lift to arrive. Another forced smile from his side.

The elevator doors open quickly to Jang’s relief, and he gets inside. He hits the top floor immediately and looks towards his shoes. For a few seconds he just blinks, trying to see if this was some hellish nightmare he was stuck inside. If he could somehow wake up to a better reality. With her lying next to him.

The lift reaches the top floor and lets him out, he quietly walks into the windy night enclosed by the vacant terrace. There he pauses, running a palm on his bare head a few times to ease his discomfort. She did that for him too, it always calmed him down.

His phone rings. Again.

“Y…Hello…yes I’m at the rooftop. Yes, I’m alone.”

The aging man shifts on his legs as the distorted voice replies to him. It was that contrast of the unusually deep baritone in one ear and noiseless summer night in his other that ran a chill up his spine.

“I’ll do it…but please can I ask wh- no! NO! I’m sorry! I won’t do it again. I’ll do what you asked!”

“Just please,” He begs, bringing his hands up in the darkness to his head, “Don’t send those photographs to my wife…”

He sniffles bitter and exhausted, as the call ends and he’s once again completely alone. Eyeing his phone, he stands there for a bit just exhaling through his nose. The calm before the storm let’s say. Never in his life has he considered himself a kind man, he always took what he wanted from who he wanted as much as life allowed him to. His wife was just some rich whore he managed to impregnate in the 80’s, he didn’t mean to make a life with her. He also didn’t mean to just watch as life left her. But he can’t change what happened; he can’t change that they have a son who rarely speaks to them, he can’t change that he found another woman – much younger, much tighter. And he can’t change taking a generous life insurance policy out on her ill body. Divorce isn’t something he could afford, not when he’s this close.

Instead was he a murderer? No, he couldn’t cause someone’s death even if he was hoping for another’s. So that has to account for something, right? It was the least he earned to be able to love himself…didn’t he? With a deep sigh and a muffled sob, he clicks on his boss’s name and waits as his phone starts ringing, holding it next to his ear.

“Hello?”

He did it…he called him. Now he should start talking but no – the words won’t come out. Should he tell him the truth? Should he stick to the script? All he could do was stand there with his mouth catching flies as the other line repeats his greetings.

“Hello? Jang, what the fuck? I know it’s you. What the fuck do you want at this time of night?”

Compared to the other call, this man’s voice was louder, and he hated it twice as much. Perhaps this was destiny, a twisted fate of all the choices he’s made in the past couple of years. Kim had always been a brat, the reason Jang dreaded going into the office he should’ve originally been in charge of. The brat didn’t have half the qualifications he did, nor did he have half the rights to speak to him in such a belittling manner. Nonetheless, luck only delivers to the wealthy or sons of the arrogantly blessed. Seniority holds no place in competition to those privileged enough to win. Perhaps this was karma, another card of destiny – taking back what was unfairly given.

He failed to register the threat looming right behind him, caught up in his pleasing daydream of a payback. His own karma watching him with hawk eyes.

If this is destiny…then he doesn’t have to feel bad about this, does he? It was always meant to happen, and he was just doing what the cards told him. He was just a messenger delivering a message.

And so, with a large gulp, deliver he did.

Kim parked his Benz at the back. He parked near the trees, their cover setting an ease inside his otherwise chaotic mind. The last thing he expected tonight was a call from that musty old man. Fucking Jang, he wonders why he hasn’t fired him yet. It was you who did most of his work anyway, while he was out fucking some chick from their red-light district bar. If only that bastard wasn’t also involved in his side business.

Getting out of his car, he takes fast strides to the structure in front of him. All of this was getting out of hand.

“There’s a mole…We should meet”

Kim wasn’t gonna lie, he was shitting himself the whole ride to the warehouse. Contrary to what people think, Kim considered himself a sharp man. He knew that none of his crap was really his, that his alcoholic father could take everything away in a matter of moments if he pissed him off enough. That man spent his youthful years beating the ‘sissy’ out of him and now uses his older age to sass the failing status of his business. It was such a curse representing that man’s last name. Such a tragedy that he was born into the mud pile he called a family. Maybe that’s why he took refuge behind illegal activities, turned his once average company to an underground drug laundering agency. That way he could earn his own money, untainted by his elegant family’s legacy. He craved that independence.

Everything was better than it seemed anyway. They weren’t distributors nor were they providers, they were just middle men. People who safely hid the drugs given to them by providers and taken away from them by distributors. Meaning he’d get the same amount of punishment despite having the least amount of profits. Apparently, young rich boys mean nothing to mafia heads or underground gangsters. Nothing more than disposable aid like he considered others. Tsk. Fuck all this shit.

What he needed to do was find this ‘mole’ Jang mentioned and eliminate him fast. There wasn’t any blood on his hands minus multiple teenaged addict’s untimely death, but he didn’t consider that his fault. However, this time he’d make sure to kill this son of a bitch – whoever he was – himself. The thought of finally having power over some plebian pleading soul right before he rips the life from their eyes gave him an adrenaline rush. Finally, he wouldn’t just be a monster because of who his father was, but because he could get shit done.

He grunts when he makes it to the warehouse doors, opening them with more force than he meant to. Once he steps inside, he notices that It’s too dark to see.

“Jang? Where the fuck are you?” Kim shouts into the shadows

…

Nothing but silence in return. He feels uneasy…like there was something terribly wrong with this place.

“Fuck,” He mutters, pulling out his phone to call the old man. His shoulders were tense, and his eyes roamed about. The alcohol in his system heightened his nervousness, made everything sort of unfocused even in the dark. With one call, he charged into battle without thinking, eager to blow someone’s head off tonight”

Ring Ring

Everything went in slow motion as he spotted a light coming from a few feet away. It looked like a phone. Kim gulped before he walked towards it. Praying that it wasn’t what he was thinking.

As he came by it, he began to tremble. His name was displayed on the small screen. It was cracked from an end and…there was something red on the front edge. What the fuck.

Snap

In an instant he turns around, the ringing still haunting his ear. He definitely heard something…or someone?

“W-who’s there?!” He tries to shout but his voice fails him as he squeaks. The realization that he’s not alone frightens him. All the vigor from before leaves his build and he becomes a small boy once again. The shadows symbolizing his father, the small noises sounding like the leather belt that bruised him continuously.

“W-what do you want?”

“Weak,” he hears his father’s voice sneering, “You gonna grovel like a f*g? You sissy.”

Anger swells inside his chest, his teeth clenching in pure hate. “I won’t grovel you motherfucker, come out this instant!” He roars before taking out his gun and shooting a few rounds at random. Still, no reply. Kim heaves in the darkness for a few seconds, placing his gun in multiple directions, trying to make out the cunt playing with him.

That when he notices Jang’s phone. It’s gone. Did someone take it? When? As he’s busy staring at the ground where it once laid, he doesn’t hear the steps of the shoes behind him.

*Crack*

He falls to the floor with a thud as something heavy hits the back of his head. The gun slips away from reach, further into the darkness. Screaming he clutches the gushing wound on his head, blood immediately making its way from the blow in his cranium. He tries to push himself up with one arm, falling back down miserably. That attempt lands him a hit on the back of his thigh as he wails. His vision blurs and he wheezes in pain, completely immobile in a growing pool of his own blood.

His father laughs at him, the leather belt in his hand crackling with pride. Turning himself around, he brings a weak arm up, pleading with the silhouette of what he thinks is a man. “P-please, I’ll give you whatever you want.”

The man scoffs, reaching behind him to pull out a tiny object. He flicks it a few times to reveal a lighter. As the fire brightens everything around him, he notices a bat in the man’s other arm. A very bloody bat. Slowly, he brings the lighter up to his face and Kim’s eyes go wide with the last bit of his strength.

“Y-you’re that i-intern-

“Name’s Jungkook.” The man interjected before bringing the bat up and smashing it into his face.

In a moment, the last thing Kim saw were spotted stars in his eyes before he felt the awful pop of his nose breaking and eventually lost conscious.

You were painting your nails. Scratch that, you were attempting to paint your nails. Bending your body in half and sticking out your tongue in concentration, you groan when that bombs, and you make yet another mistake. This shit was impossible.

After a long week of complete exhaustion, you were happy to be home on your couch with a pizza box on your left and a glass of wine on your right. Sitting there and swirling the brush inside your nail polish container you hummed along to the tune of the newest pop song stuck in your head. It was a nice night, compared to the heat wave your city had been experiencing for the past month. So, you decided to leave the windows open and let some breeze in. Soon you were thinking about watching a thriller on Netflix.

You sighed, this is always how your days passed no matter what type of weather was out there. Alone – in your way too large to live alone in house. Since your bitch of a best friend left you, she decided to take all your other friends with her. Online harassment from her minions got so bad you had to delete all your social medias. Family was no good either. Your parents were the most annoying creatures on the planet, refusing to let you in that one time you flew home to see them for the holidays. Whatever, it didn’t matter – you fucking hated everyone anyway. Fuck Melissa, fuck Dad, fuck David, fuck Uncle Ben.

There were sometimes though, where you would make a stupid penis joke towards an actor on screen and wished Melissa was around to laugh in that obnoxious way she often would. Or that your Dad would still call you for his check ins with one of his million pet names. You wished David was still around to see if your company really made you supervisor, he owed you like $40 bucks from the bed. And other times you wished Uncle Ben still brought you those expensive gifts from his crazy trips.

But whatever…like you said. Fuck everyone.

You’re startled when the doorbell chimes, almost bumping your acetone all over the place. In confusion you look over to your clock hanging above the dining room wall. It was almost midnight. Who could it be at this hour?

You jump again when the doorbell rings for a second time. Whoever it was sure was impatient. Moving your pedicure items to the side, you stand up in annoyance, making your way over to the door. Quietly you peek into the peephole, hoping to see a familiar face. Oddly, no one seems to be outside. Yet the bell chimes again.

With great hesitance you pull the door open, only slightly.

The sight you’re met with leaves your jaw hanging open. On the other side of the door – right in front of you, stood Jeon Jungkook. Not a trace of emotion on his face as he glared at you and pushed the door open the rest of the way. You back up slightly. He was holding a bat covered in blood and dirt, red and black stains surrounded the smooth skin of his face. The stench of iron and gasoline makes you scrunch your nose, and you put a palm over it in disgust.

Jungkook stands there, staring at you. You wore a white silk kimono, one side of it delicately hanging on your arm and exposing your bare shoulder. Smitten by just the sight of you, he breaths in your strawberry musk – mixed with acetone for some reason. When he steps inside you let out a tiny gasp. Raising an eyebrow, he continues to watch you. He prepared a whole speech about how you’re his and he was here to punish you accordingly tonight but as soon as your glassy orbs met his, he lost all train of thought. Funny, he was tearing limbs and breaking bones a couple of minutes ago and now he feels like he can’t even advance his hand to touch you.

When you continue to look at him with such distaste, he expected you to scream, to cry, to run. He was expecting you to act like his prey usually does.

He was not expecting you to smile.

“What did you do?” You ask him in the biggest smile he’s ever seen you in.

It feels like the breath has been knocked out of him. You step closer to him, tilting your head to hear his answer but he’s struggling to form words. Fluttering your lashes, you patiently wait for him to talk.

“I…I-I killed him.”

“Killed who?” You ask without missing a beat. It seems like you’ve realized though as your mouth forms an O and you let out a laugh, “Wait, Mr. Kim? You really killed Kim?”

Jungkook nods as his heart starts beating faster. He’s not used to you being so close and acknowledging him. “And Jang”

“Whoooaaa, and Jang?” You jump up in enthusiasm, surprising poor Jungkook.

“Y-you don’t care?” He asks in a tiny voice

You give him a weird face, “Care? Why would I?”

When he gives you the most clueless face in return, you sigh – crossing your arms. He sure was naïve.

“I found your camera,” You begin, looking up to witness his shocked reaction. He looks like he wanted to say something, but you hold up a finger to stop him, “Well, actually I found all your cameras. The first one being the one with all those creepy pictures of me.”

“At first, I was shocked, and a little upset. Then I became scared. And then I realized…that I was actually scared” You stare at him with wide, insane eyes and he wonders why he’s never witnessed this side of you. It was kinda turning him on. “I was scared…holy shit I was scared of you and it was the best thing ever. Then I wondered if you had any other cameras…and I was right.”

Lifting your head to the left corner of the living room, you point at the spot. “I found the first one there, and the second one in the kitchen and then in the bathroom and so on.” Suddenly your face becomes solemn and you give him a scowl that makes him deflate like a small animal.

“Then I thought…Wow! so much interesting shit is happening in my life – in my own home and I had no fucking idea? Why? Because my stalker happened to be a bitchass coward who couldn’t make a move?”

He winces when you berate him, his head dropping and tears forming in his eyes. There was so much he wanted to tell you, but a headache was forming in his brain from all the gasoline he had inhaled. You place your hand under his jaw, gently bringing his face up to yours again, “That’s why I decided to lure you out myself. I took off the spycam in my room and decided to fuck my boss, hoping you’d come see and do something. Knew you would perch on my willow tree seeing how the photos in your camera were angled…Which by the way is a fucking mess! Clean up the nasty chaos you made on my precious tree tonight!”

Jungkook nods firmly, still processing what you said.

“S-so wait…wait then Kim was jus-”

“Yeah, Kim was just a pawn. He’s practically been begging to fuck me for years anyway, and I was gonna do it for that promotion he offered me. But this is better. Also, Jang touched my ass way too much on ‘accident.’ I didn’t want them to die, but I don’t exactly care either.”

Jungkook smiles shyly. The fact that used Kim to get to him. You didn’t care about Kim’s money or his power. He got insecure for no reason. And you had just asked him to stay by telling him to clean up his mess! If he’s right in guessing your intentions, then he feels that he’s going to burst out crying. Although he’ll still punish you for fucking him. That agony he felt was still deep inside his gut and he hadn’t been able to cum for two days, plotting this elaborate scheme of murder. With everything you were telling him, he didn’t think you’d mind much.

You’ve accepted him, after all. He’s enough for you.

You’re enough.

“Tell me what you did to them.”

“I beat them to a bloody pulp.” Jungkook says monotonously. It’s the first sentence he states without stuttering. “Attacked them both from behind with a single blow and cracked their skulls. Continued to beat the shit out of them then dropped Jang’s body to an alleyway. Broke both of his arms. Dragged him to an empty warehouse known for drug transactions where I fucked up Kim. Smashed his face in, his eyeball was hanging out by the end of it…it wasn’t very attractive. Then I threw gasoline all over the place and burned it to a crisp. Firefighters and Media’s probably there by now”

“Holy shit…that’s…fucking crazy,” You eye the bat. “What if you get caught”

“I won’t…they’ll say it was a rival drug gang. Left a few traces of underground trash” He answers as you lift your brows. There was a lot you didn’t know about him, especially the three years prior to him getting that job in your office. You wouldn’t know of the life he had before he laid his eyes on you, the co-worker with the beautiful smile showing him around his new workplace. He wasn’t interested in returning to a time before you became his purpose for existing, but he was smarter than he looks.

There was a lot he understood.

Jungkook frowns at the floor before making eye contact with you, “Do you…hate me?”

“…Your weird ass excites me Jungkook. I think I fucking love you.” Meh, honestly you weren’t really in love with him. But it wouldn’t hurt to say it cause you knew as long as Jungkook stayed this psychotic, he’s the only man you would come close to loving. You hadn’t ever been in love before, but you were willing to ty it out.

At your confession Jungkook shows you his bunny teeth and his eyes crinkle. It meant so much to him, you wouldn’t even be able to comprehend. These three years have gone very differently for both of you, after all. While you were out there losing people from your life and wasting your existence away, Jungkook was falling in love with you deeper and deeper each moment he spent watching you. To the point of complete, irreversible fixation. A loud bell rings inside his head and he chokes up.

“I love you, too.”

You grab his cheeks, lurching forward to kiss him and it only takes a second for him to reciprocate.

It was a sloppy, hungry kiss. Your tongues swirls around his and your teeth bump into each other. You lick the sides of his mouth, tasting someone else’s blood and the residue of fire. It makes you moan into him. With that the beast awakens, dropping the damn bat out of his hands and grabbing your ass instead, pulling you close to him. His wet muscle dominates yours easily, your legs giving out slightly and he rushes to hold you up by your thighs. Ever slip of his tongue has you clenching your core in excitement. Lewd noises fill your doorway as you hang onto his sturdy frame and he pushes harder and harder against you. He bites your lip and you whine, feeling him smile into your mouth. When you felt like you could no longer breathe, you pull back to stare at his blown-out pupils with lust fogging your mind.

Out of breath, he whimpers as you rub against his hard on. He was sexy as fuck with his lips swollen and glossy with your spit, pupils dilated, his jaw ajar and lurid sighs leaving him. Jungkook held onto you for dear life while waiting for your next move, you felt his thick fingers digging into your thighs. You smile at him with heavy lids, running a hand through his wild strands. Cautiously, he places his face into your exposed shoulder and inhales your scent. Shivering at the sensation, you groan as he starts biting at your neck aggressively, as if trying to make a statement. You coo at him, trying to calm him down by patting his head, and you wonder if it worked once he slows down and you feel tears amongst your bitten hickeys.

That’s what excited you the most about Jungkook. There was no certainty about him, you couldn’t predict him at all. Some part of you thought he would come to kill you instead of Kim or Jang and the rush you felt seeing him in your entrance drenched in blood almost gave you a standing orgasm. Right now, you have no fucking idea why he’s sobbing into your shoulder while dry humping you with such eagerness…was he happy? Was he mad? Was he sad? You couldn’t tell that Jungkook was absolutely enthralled to finally have you in his arms – touch you all he wanted – and he did have a very rough and bloody week. He was emotionally drained. What you did know, however, was that you haven’t felt this much thrill for a long, long time. And the root cause of it was this man baby in your arms, covering you with gore and ash.

What a weird guy.

You weren’t sure where this was headed, all you knew was that Jungkook would be pounding inside of you on your bed in a couple of moments. Without changing of course because the guts spilled across his shirt was making you drip down your thighs. Wrapping your arms against the crying bunny rabbit, you speculated if there was another extravagant plot you could cook up to get him to kill someone – this time right in front of you. After all, it was as if you were Frankenstein and he was your monster with rabbit features and brawny arms. The thought makes you chuckle before you notice how he’s began hiccuping and repeating his love for you on your skin. Sighing, you whisper in his ear to simmer down. It was getting difficult to breath with how he was smothering you. Oh well.

Looks like your night just got interesting.

#Jeon Jungkook #Bts #Jungkook smut #Jungkook angst #Yandere Jungkook #Bts smut #Bts angst #Yandere bts #R:BC

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ratedbangtann · 3 years

Text

Divided; KNJ

𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗕𝗶𝗴𝗛𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴; 𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙬 𝙞𝙩 𝙪𝙥 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮? You just landed your dream job, fought through the audition process to be here when one Kim Namjoon takes an interest in you. Perhaps you let him get a little too close... And now, you’re in more trouble than you bargained for...

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Pairing Kim: Namjoon x Reader Warnings: Angst, graphic depictions of violence and distressing scenes. Word Count: 9.5k Please consider supporting me here: Tip Jar & Commissions ********************

Never, in your entire life, had you felt as loved as you did with Namjoon. Waking up next to him was the bliss, the peace you had been seeking for years.

You woke up entangled in a mess of limbs and sheets, laying on his bare chest much like you had been when you had fallen asleep. Looking up at him you smiled fondly at the light snores that left his mouth, hanging open a little. His hair looked completely dishevelled; whether that was from sleep or your hair pulling antics the night before, you couldn't be certain. But he just looked so peaceful.

The hand that lay across his chest started tracing patterns along the ridges of his muscles, feeling how soft and smooth the skin was. You noticed the light trail of hair from his bellybutton down to where the sheets covered his modesty; he wasn't a hairy man, just enough to sculpt some definition.

You hadn't even noticed that the snoring had stopped, and Namjoon's eyes were watching your fingers trace pictures into his skin. He didn't want to disturb you; perhaps this was the only time to relax you had had in a long time, he thought.

Until your eyes flickered back up to him, you weren't aware he had woken up.

"Oh... Sorry, did I wake you?" you whispered.

"I don't mind," he said with a smile, sleep making his voice groggy first thing in the morning. "How did you sleep?"

"Better than I have in a long time," you blushed. He chuckled, wrapping his arms tightly around you and pulling you further up the bed to lay your head on his shoulder.

"I don't want to go to the studio today," he said firmly. "I want to lay here, with you, and do nothing."

"Well, good job I don't have to be in today then, hmm?"

"And suddenly, I've got a nasty tickle in my throat. I suppose I'll have to stay home." He grinned from ear to ear, his dimples sinking into his cheeks. You laughed, pulling the sheets up over your shoulder to cover you.

Breakfast was an interesting event; everybody in the dorm was suspiciously quiet, but you would catch them sharing little glances with each other, or smirking at one another. You didn't feel uncomfortable just... a little wary?

Namjoon had made you both toast while the others pottered around the kitchen grabbing something to eat and sitting at the table with you. All apart from Jimin, of course, who was still showering.

"We're gonna have to get you some essentials if you're staying here for a while," Namjoon said, crunching another mouthful of toast. Taehyung and Jungkook looked at each other - another one of those looks - and snickered. You narrowed your eyes at them, wondering what was so funny about that.

"Hey, Joon-hyung; you left me all alone last night. I was hoping we could cuddle," Jungkook whined, pouting dramatically. Taehyung couldn't stop his laughter beside him.

"Sorry Kookie, my cuddles were needed elsewhere," Namjoon retorted, crumbs flying past his lips. And again, Taehyung and Jungkook looked at each other and laughed. The others smiled at each other, annoyingly sharing the same thought.

Before you could question them, Jimin walked down the hall fully dressed but still towelling his hair dry with a mischievous grin on his face.

"Ah, y/n, Namjoon! Good moooorning," he sang.

"Good morning..." you replied, hesitant and suspicious.

"Don't you look sprightly today, hmm? Good sleep?"

"Yes, thanks," Namjoon deadpanned, ignoring the shit-eating grin carved into his cheeks.

"I should think so. You must have been exhausted after uh... well, y'know," he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. And then you realised.

They had all heard you. You and Namjoon, when you had... They were laughing at you both.

Your face changed colour almost instantly, a red hue painting your cheeks as your eyes widened. The others couldn't keep it in any longer, the laughter consuming the room and Namjoon scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, fighting a smile himself.

You hid your face in his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around yours, rubbing your arm with reassurance.

"Don't worry, y/n. Sounded like Namjoon did a good job. You should be proud of him!" Jimin teased. Namjoon threw his slipper at the younger, hitting him in the chest. "Namjoon-aaahhhh!" he whined, sitting down in the empty seat at the opposite end of the table.

"Eat your granola, Jimin," Yoongi scolded playfully, smirking. Jimin pouted, pouring himself a bowl.

The others decided to take the day off themselves too; by this stage in their career, they were allowed to every so often; provided it really was just once every so often. Before you had joined them for breakfast, they had all discussed it, wanting to spend the day making you feel better and hopefully coming up with a plan...

After a shower and some clean clothes - Namjoon's again - you had sat with them in the living room, talking about possible solutions.

"I need some kind of proof; that's the biggest problem. I don't have any..." you sighed.

"There's CCTV in the halls of BigHit; would they have caught him dragging you to the elevator?" Yoongi asked.

"Maybe... But, that's not sufficient proof of long-term abuse," Jin was right, it wasn't enough.

"Is it enough to go to Bang PD-nim for help getting a restraining order?" asked Tae, hopeful.

"No, we're not going to him. If he took it the wrong way, y/n could be out of a job," Namjoon said sternly.

This was useless, you were going around in circles.

"Can we please just hire a hitman?" Yoongi said, a little venom lacing his tone. He was getting frustrated too. He hated knowing his friend was in trouble, being bullied by a pathetic excuse of a man.

"Waste of money, I'll do it myself," Jungkook mumbled, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back into the couch.

"I know you're kind of joking but... please don't," you said weakly, fiddling with your hands. You hated the thought of any more violence, especially from such wonderful men.

"Sorry, y/n..." Jungkook apologised. A moment of silence passed as everyone thought once again.

"We could google it? 'How to catch a domestic abuser'?" Hoseok suggested. You flinched at the words.

Domestic abuser...

You'd never thought of Sangjun as that, never labelled him as one. But hearing it from Hoseok's mouth, you now realised that was absolutely what he was.

Any other time, you may have laughed at Hoseok's suggestion but you were getting desperate and frankly, it seemed like a good shout.

"Let me go get my laptop; left it in my car last night," Namjoon stood up, grabbing his keys from the hooks by the front door and heading down to the parking lot to grab the bag he had left in his car in a rage last night.

He opened the passenger door, grabbing the strap and slinging it over his shoulder when he heard something drop to the floor by his feet. When he looked, he saw the stupid little dash cam that had fallen off the windshield when he's punched the wheel.

He sighed, picking it up and crawling into the car to stick it back up, but again, it wouldn't stick.

"Useless," he muttered, giving up.

And then, he had an idea...

A horrible, terrible idea, but an idea nonetheless.

When he joined you again, you could see a look of anguish settled on his face. Something was wrong.

"Joonie?" you turned on the couch to look at him stood there, the rest of the guys following suit.

"You said you needed proof, right?" he asked, his tone full of regret and despair.

"Yeah..?"

"I think I know how to get some..." He held up the little dash cam he had tried to stick back in his car. He didn't have to say anything to tell you what he was thinking.

You could plant it, in your apartment. Somewhere Sangjun wouldn't notice it. You could catch him in the act; one assault would be enough to show the police, enough to get a conviction.

"That's brilliant, Joonie!" You seemed happier than you perhaps should be, naive to the reasons Namjoon was so brokenhearted about his idea.

"But... it means you'd have to go through it again. One last time..." You heard the sadness in his voice, the gravity of the proposal weighing heavy on you now. You'd have to let Sangjun beat you again. You'd have to get hurt again.

"No. No, we can't put her in that position again Joon, are you mad?" Jin stood up, angry at his brother that he'd suggest such a thing.

"Do you think I want to see her hurt, Seokjin?!" he yelled, losing his temper. "Do you have any other suggestions? Because I sure as hell don't!"

Jin stayed quiet. Logically, he knew this would work. You all did. But everyone was hesitant to admit it.

"...I'll do it," you squeaked. One last time, for a lifetime of freedom and a possible conviction; worth it. You'd taken it for so long, you could take it one last time.

"It'll be kept under control, though," said Yoongi. It confused you.

"What do you mean?"

"We'll be outside. Waiting. We'll give you a word, you'll yell it at the top of your lungs when it gets too much, if he goes too far. We'll barge in, take him down, get you and the camera out." He was so matter-of-fact, military even. No emotion, just straight talking.

"That's a good idea," Hobi praised, "that way you have control. When you think you have enough evidence you can call to us. We'll just pull him off you and get you out."

"It works..." you pondered, thinking it over. "I'll have to go back home eventually. When I do, he'll be mad... I'll need to plant the camera while he's out. He goes to the gym every day between three and five, then he comes to pick me up from work. But I don't know if his routine will change now; he doesn't know where I am, he could still be out looking for me."

"We'll watch the apartment... see if he's home, see when he leaves. But he knows my car..." Namjoon said, scratching the back of his neck.

"Doesn't know mine though. I'll watch him," Jungkook offered.

"When are we doing this?" asked Tae. Well, the longer you left it, the worse his mood will be; the worse the damage will be. He'd already be livid that you disappeared yesterday, this was time sensitive. With every passing second, Sangjun would only let his anger bubble and fester away, growing and growing...

"Today," you said confidently.

The others were stunned into silence. How could you be so willing to surrender yourself to such a horrific ordeal yet again? So soon?

"A-are you sure, sweetheart?" Joon asked, hushed and leaning over the back of the couch, taking your hands in his. "We don't need to rush this, we can take our time to really go through it and-"

"Actually, we do need to rush this..." you gripped onto his hands, looking up into his wide eyes that were so full of dread. "I just want to be free, Joonie..." you whispered.

Namjoon looked down at your hands in his, running his thumbs along the backs of yours and fighting back the tears. He couldn't bare the thought of you getting hurt again, couldn't bare the idea that you were so willing to get hurt again for your freedom.

"Today it is," he agreed, bringing your hand up to his lips and placing a sweet kiss to it. "You'll be free, soon..."

****************

Sat in the backseat of Jungkook's car - far fancier than Namjoon's - you couldn't sit still. You were terrified. Namjoon sat with you, Jin on your other side and Hoseok in the front. The others were waiting in Tae's car just a couple of blocks away.

Having switched your mobile phone on before you left the dorm, you had seen the 134 missed calls and 249 messages from Sangjun. Progressively, the texts became angrier and angrier...

Why weren't you at work?

Met your boyfriend. Where the fuck are you?

y/n, answer my calls.

Stupid girl. Get home, or I will drag you home myself.

Stop being stupid. Where the fuck are you?

ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE. NOW.

You'll regret this.

That last one sent a chill down your spine that made every hair stand to attention.

All of this was simply more evidence stacking up over and over. You took screenshots fo the messages and the call receipts and sent them to Namjoon for back up, in case something were to happen to your phone. You were trying to think of every eventuality.

"There he is," Jungkook broke the still quiet, shuffling in his seat to get a good look as you all watched Sangjun exit your apartment building and get into his car parked out front with his gym bag slung over his shoulder. He drove off down the road, turning the corner to head off to his workout. He'd be gone for an hour at least.

"Let's go," Namjoon took hold of your hand, pulling you out of the car and towards your apartment.

Inside, he helped you to set up the camera, hiding it in the bookcase next to the television in the living room. You changed out of your borrowed clothes into something of your own, handing Namjoon's back to him. It wouldn't do to have Sangjun get even more angry, seeing you in another man's clothing.

As Namjoon was about to leave, to hide back in the car until Sangjun made it home, he turned to you with a look on his face you couldn't quite read.

"What are you going to yell through the door? When it gets too much, I mean..." he asked, shuffling his feet and looking everywhere but at you.

"I'll just call to you, so... Namjoon," you shrugged. Your hands trembled with fear and you twiddled your thumbs. He nodded.

"We'll be waiting, okay?" he cupped your cheek with one hand, standing a little closer to you.

"Uh-huh," you agreed.

"I'm sorry we have to do this..." his voice broke, cracking under the weight of his regret.

"It's the only way..." you sighed.

He closed the distance between you, pressing a kiss to your lips so softly you almost couldn't be sure he had done it. At least, until he pressed a little firmer. You returned the gesture, both of you needed the moment of tenderness before the oncoming storm you knew was about to happen.

"You're so, so brave..." he pressed his forehead to yours.

"Someone once told me bravery was just another form of stupidity," you chuckled.

"Not at all. You're the bravest, but also the smartest woman I have ever met."

A moment passed, just enjoying being close to one another until you knew he needed to leave soon in order to get in position.

"You'd better go," you said reluctantly, pushing at his chest until he took a step back. He turned towards the front door, opening it up and looking back at you with one final glance.

"I love you, y/n."

"I know," you smiled. "I love you too."

And with that, he left you alone with the little dash cam rolling and recording everything...

An overwhelming feeling of dread lingered over you as you sat on the couch, waiting... You watched the clock constantly, knowing he would return around 5pm. It was 4:49pm now, and a sickness bubbled in your gut at the thought of what was to come.

You pulled the sleeves of your sweater down over your hands, the anxiety bringing chills to your skin and shivers to your spine.

It'll be over soon, you assured yourself. He'll be stopped. This is going to work.

It had to. This was your only hope, your only conceivable attempt to get out of this hell. Namjoon and his brothers were waiting, they would save you. Just a little more pain, a little more agony...

4:57pm; the sound of a key in the lock made your heart rate elevate to that of a hummingbird; this was it. You heard it shut softly and footsteps in the hall, heading to where you sat. And then they paused in the doorway.

"Y/n..." His voice sent a violent electric shock through your body, but... he didn't sound angry.

This was always worse; when he started out calm. He would always be more violent, terrifyingly so.

You turned your head to look at him, like a scared little girl getting scolded by her headmaster in his office.

"Oh my god, y/n..." he dropped his gym bag to the floor and ran to you, enveloping you in a tight hug and lifting you from the couch as he did so. Your body didn't react, simply staying limp in his arms, hands by your sides in a state of shock that he didn't immediately smack you to the floor when he saw you.

He put you down, holding onto your shoulders and rubbing his hands up and down them, searching your face for signs of any trauma or terror.

"Where were you? You had me worried sick! I went to pick you up from work and you weren't there!" he cried, worry in his tone. You looked up at him, bewildered. Why was he so worried? Why wasn't he beating the shit out of you like you had expected?

This wasn't going to plan. At all.

"I-I was just..." you stuttered, trying to think of something to say.

"You know what? It doesn't matter... I'm just glad you're okay, you're safe!" he pulled you in for another hug, crushing you to his chest but still, never hurting you. Not once.

****************

Outside, Namjoon waited. As soon as he had seen Sangjun walk into the apartment complex, he had signalled the others in Tae's car with a text message, and waited a few minutes for him to get up the first few flights of stairs before exiting the vehicles and following after him.

At the front door, Namjoon could hear everything, every word being said. The others were with him, crowding around the front door to eavesdrop.

He heard the concern in Sangjun's voice, confusing him.

"Why is he acting like that?" Taehyung whispered, voice the thoughts of every one of them. Namjoon's brow creased, overthinking.

Inside, Sangjun acted like a normal, caring boyfriend.

"Do you need anything? Something to eat? Drink? Do you wanna watch a movie?" he fussed over you, sitting you back down on the couch and crouching in front of you.

"She said he'd be angry, what the hell is he doing?" Jimin whispered.

"Wh-what if... what if she was..?" Hoseok began, but he stopped himself. The thought was too horrendous.

"What?" Namjoon whisper-shouted, still never raising his voice enough for you or Sangjun to hear from inside.

"What if she made it up?" replied Hoseok.

"No, she wouldn't..." Namjoon shook his head violently, returning to his position to eavesdrop and ignoring the idea completely. He couldn't entertain the idea that you had lied. He knew you hadn't been honest with him in the beginning, but surely you wouldn't like about this... Would you?

The niggling doubt in the back of his head was quickly silenced by Seokjin speaking the sense he needed to hear.

"You didn't see her, Hoseok. You didn't see the bruises, or watch him drag her through the halls at the studios. Don't you dare question her right now," Seokjin whispered, scorning the younger. He couldn't help getting mad at him for questioning you after what he had seen. Something was wrong, that was for sure, but it most certainly had nothing to do with you fabricating your history of abuse.

****************

Inside, Sangjun was making tea; the most mundane activity you could imagine.

"How many sugars, babe?" he called to you.

"J-just two..." you stammered, feeling more anxious now than you had before he came home. What was going on? Why was he now so concerned for you? Why was he making you bloody tea?!

But what you didn't know, was Sangjun was being clever.

He hadn't seen the camera; it was well hidden. He hadn't seen the boys; they were meticulously quiet.

But he had seen the fancy cars in the neighbourhood as he came home. He had seen the black Bentley around the block that belonged to Tae. He had seen the black Mercedes across the street that belonged to Jungkook. They looked out of place, and he recognised them from the parking garage at BigHit. He knew those license plates, those fancy models...

Sangjun wasn't stupid.

He sat down on the couch with the tea, handing you a mug.

"Do you want to talk about what happened? Where you were?" he asked, feigning concern and innocence. You shook your head no, unable to think of a lie quick enough. You were too busy figuring out what the hell he was playing at.

He was acting so normal; more normal that he had for weeks. And you'd just be MIA for 24 hours...

Your brain ticked over until finally, you realised what was happening. He knew they were waiting for him.

You didn't know if he'd seen them out of the corner of his eye on the stairs of spotted them in their cars but he knew; he had to. He was acting to get them to doubt you...

You had to do something; you had to make the switch in his head flip. You had to make him so angry, he couldn't help himself.

"A-actually, I... I need to tell you the truth. About where I was last night..." you started, your breathing shaky but you knew you had to do this. It was your only shot.

"Hmm? Okay, baby.. what happened?" he asked, placing his tea down on the little side table next to the couch.

"I-I... I stayed with BTS," you lowered your head, scared to look up at him. He was quiet though, simply taking in a long, deep breath.

"Okay... So you stayed with your friends; that's fine," he smiled through his words, but had you looked up you would have seen the anger in his eyes. You would have noticed the smile that didn't quite sit right on his face.

"Y-yeah I did but," you took a deep breath, shutting your eyes as you told him the truth, "I slept in Namjoon's bed. With him."

The more you confessed, the harder Sangjun found it to keep his cool.

"Did you fuck him?" he spat, clenching his fists and staring at you with such harsh eyes you felt the gaze burning into you without looking up at him.

One last truth to push him over the edge...

"Yes."

****************

From outside, the boys listened intently.

"What's happening?" asked Yoongi, from the back of the group.

"She's... I think something is wrong, he's making tea?" Jungkook whispered back. "Why isn't he going mad?"

Namjoon ticked over everything in his head; did he know something was wrong? No, not possible. Right?

"The cars..." Namjoon gasped, leaning back from the door with wide eyes.

"Joon?" Tae saw the look on his face; pure dread.

"He saw the fucking cars... He knows we're here," he whispered to them with anger, frustrated that they overlooked that detail. He couldn't believe how stupid he had been. Of course a Mercedes and a fucking Bentley were going to be noticed in a neighbourhood like this...

"Shh!" Jungkook hushed them, his ear pressed to the door. "She's telling him the truth..."

"What?" Namjoon snapped his head to look at Jungkook.

"She's provoking him," he deadpanned.

There was a moment of silence before all seven of the boys heard a loud smash, like pottery smashing against the floor.

Namjoon tensed immediately, the overwhelming urge to break the door in already to save his princess already becoming too much. he fought against it, knowing he needed to trust you, knowing he needed to wait. You needed the evidence; he understood that.

But the array of noises he could hear through the door were building and worsening, so startlingly distressing that he turned to Jin and Hobi with glassy eyes and grit teeth, the tendons in his neck straining fiercly.

"Stop me, hyungs... Don't let me in until she calls..." he begged.

****************

You had confessed. You had told him you slept with Namjoon.

And much like a seismic shift in the earth's tectonic plates causes a volcanic eruption, your confession made Sangjun explode.

Immediately he was on you, knocking the mug out of your hand and ignoring it as it smashed to the floor, spilling tea across the laminate dramatically. He lunged for you, fisting your sweater in both hands up pulling you up to stand in front of him.

"I knew it. I knew you fucked him, you dirty little SLUT!" he screamed, throwing you to the floor amongst the mess. Tea soaked through your jeans and the shards of pottery stuck into your side, luckily not sharp enough to cut.

Sangjun immediately sat over you, holding you to the floor by your shoulders. You saw him retract his hand quickly and before you had time to register it came hurtling towards you face, smacking you across your already bruised cheek. You cried out, a stinging sensation burning through your face.

You didn't have time to compose yourself before the next slap; a backhand to the other cheek. He clipped your nose though, a sharp pain rushing through the centre of your face like it had been cracked open. Blood began to pour out of it as he gripped onto your collar, pulling you up and thrusting you against the wall near the entrance to the hallway.

You tried to push him off, tried kicking his knees to make him buckle but he was wise to your tricks and dodged every single hit you tried to land.

Instead he landed another hit to your face; this time his entire fist slammed into your jaw. You cried out again, wounded and in absolute agony as your whole face felt like it was throbbing.

Blood dripped from your nose, down your face and to your sweater, coating your lips in the strong iron taste that filled your mouth. Whatever he had done to your nose, it was bad. You were almost 100% sure it was broken.

He landed a few more punches to various parts of your body; one to the left shoulder, one to the ribs, one to your stomach. You lost your breath, your diaphragm going into spasm and unable to get the oxygen you needed into your body.

Without the breath you needed you couldn't think straight, couldn't even fathom the idea of screaming to Namjoon let alone actually forcing your vocal chords to work. All you could do was struggle for air and cry out incoherent noises inbetween.

"Where is he now, huh? He's here, isn't he? I saw the fucking cars outside, y/n. DO YOU THINK I'M FUCKING STUPID?" he screamed, landing another punch to your gut. "WHO IS HERE? YOU THINK THEY'LL SAVE YOU, HUH? YOU'RE MINE, Y/N. MINE AND MINE ALONE!"

He wrapped his hands in your hair, pulling it by the roots and dragging you out into the hall.

****************

"She can't breathe, hyung... Listen to her!" Jungkook panicked, hearing your winded state on the other side of the door.

Namjoon stared at the door with his hands tearing his own hair out at the roots, panic in his eyes.

You hadn't called to him yet... That was the plan. When you called, they'd break in. But could you even attempt to if you couldn't breathe?

He battled with himself, his head scrambling through an inner monologue at twice the normal speed to try and draw up a conclusion as to whether he should just get the hell in there right now, or not.

"We need to get in there, Namjoon..." Jin had his hand on Namjoon's shoulder, trying to talk some sense to him but he just kept thinking; she hasn't called, she hasn't called... She needs the footage, she hasn't called yet...

If only he had known you had more than enough footage to go off by now.

All of the boys heard Sangjun screaming at you; they heard him claim you as his, heard him scream of his knowledge that they were there. They all looked at each other, eyes darting between them but before anyone could react they heard a loud and unmistakable thud on the other side of the door.

The front door shook, like something had collided with it. Jungkook fell back from his crouched position, falling at Namjoon's feet. A few more little thuds hit the door from the other side, and the sound of strained breath was once again the most alarming noise they could hear through the wood.

****************

More pain, radiating from the top of your head right to the base of your spine as Sangjun threw you up against the front door by your hair. He let go of the strands and pushed his hands up against your throat, pushing his leg between your knees and pressing himself up against you tightly. You had no wiggle room, no way to get away.

His eyes stared into yours, pupils blown out and rage coursing through them. Slowly, the fingers around your throat started to tighten, like a boa constrictor tightens itself around it's prey, taking its time...

You felt every pad of his fingertips, every tendon in every digit at it pushed the pressure onto your windpipe, cutting off the airway and leaving you breathless once again.

You squirmed and hit out, hitting your fists against his chest. You couldn't look away from his eyes, like when you see a spider across the room and watch it in case it moves.

Namjoon is on the other side of the door, you thought. They all are...

If you didn't get their attention now, Sangjun could easily render you unconscious. Or worse...

But with his hands so tight around your throat you couldn't scream, you couldn't even whisper; there was no air in your lungs to be able to make a sound.

You stopped struggling against Sangjun, instead hitting out and kicking against the flat surface you were pushed up against. You used all the strength you had left in you thump and pound on the door, hoping to get their attention.

Please, please get in here...

****************

Namjoon heard you pounding on the door, struggling for breath. They all did.

"Shit, get IN THERE!" Yoongi yelled.

Namjoon pushed against the door with his shoulder, trying to force it open to no avail. It was going to take more than that to get past a large wooden door, your body weight and Sangjun's strength.

"FUCKING HELP ME!" Namjoon yelled to the others. Jungkook scrambled to his feet, Jin and Hoseok readying themselves to help. They stepped back, the four of them gearing up to break it down.

"One, two, THREE!" Jungkook yelled, and all four of them threw themselves at the door in an assemblage of shoulders and feet using their power to get in. It wasn't enough.

"AGAIN!" Namjoon yelled. They stepped back in unison. "One, two, THREE!" They hurtled towards the door again.

"Keep going, you'll get there!" Jimin yelled, wishing he could help but knowing there wasn't enough room for another person to get in and push.

"He's right on the other side, he's stopping us!" Hoseok yelled as they all stepped back again, ready to throw themselves at it again.

"NOTHING IS GONNA FUCKING STOP ME GETTING IN THERE! ONE, TWO, THREE!" Namjoon screamed, the boys colliding with the wood again. This time they heard a faint crack.

"The hinges are coming off, Joon!" Yoongi yelled, "Keep going!"

The four stood back again, a little further this time, and rushed headlong into the door. Another crack, this time louder. Namjoon could now visibly see the wood splintering by the hinges.

"ONE MORE! LET'S GO! ONE, TWO, THREE!" One final run up, and the door broke of its hinges.

With you still on the other side, it didn't fall down immediately. Sangjun's strength managed to keep it relatively upright but his grip on your throat faltered and you fell to the floor, just as white spots had started to appear in your vision.

Namjoon immediately pushed his way through the gap between the oddly angled door - now off its hinges - and the wall. His hands reached for Sangjun, grabbing his shirt and pinning him to the wall with as much force as he had in him, Sangjun's head hitting the plasterboard of the wall. The remnants of the door hit the wall opposite, leaning against it while Namjoon held Sangjun in place.

"FUCKING ANIMAL," he screamed, landing a vicious right hook to Sangjun's jaw. "YOU'RE SICK, SICK IN THE FUCKING HEAD," he shook him by the collar, followed by another right hook.

Jungkook and Yoongi moved the door out of the way and pushed past Namjoon and Sangjun, coming to your side to assess your state. You lay on your front, face down on the floor covered in a puddle of your own blood and spluttering, oxygen finding its way back into your lungs after being starved for almost too long.

Seokjin and Hoseok rushed to Namjoon's side, Hoseok holding onto Sangjun and Seokjin holding Joon's arms behind his back, doing everything he could to stop him from knocking the asshole out.

As much as Jin thought Sangjun absolutely deserved it, he couldn't see his brother going down for assault and battery.

"Namjoon, hey! HEY! Cool it!" Jin yelled, pulling Namjoon back. He struggled against him, anger ripping through him. The pathetic little man in front of him needed to learn his lesson, needed to know how it felt to be beat down to a fucking pulp.

On the floor, Yoongi rolled you onto your side, Jungkook helping him to pull you up into a sitting position against the far wall of the hall. Your eyes had swollen so much, you could barely see past the blur of tears leaking from the agony your body was feeling.

Your head lolled forward, chin resting on your chest as more blood dripped from your nose to your lap. You still struggled to breathe, the punches to your gut and your ribs making you feel like you were being stabbed with every breath.

"Jimin, call an ambulance! Tae, the police!" Yoongi yelled back to them. Both pulled their phones out immediately, dialling the emergency services.

"I'll go wait outside, stay on the phone Jimin," Tae instructed, running for the steps and hastily making his way down them to wait for the first batch of help to arrive.

Amongst the chaos, Namjoon was still fighting against Jin, trying to lay into Sangjun some more. He had seen red, he was screaming at him; never had Namjoon lost his tempter like this and honestly, Jin was a little scared of him. He knew he would never turn on any of the boys, but he wasn't sure just how much strength he had in him with the adrenaline and pure fury pumping through his veins.

Yoongi did his best by your side, lifting your chin to look at your swollen and bloodied face and checking your breathing, your pulse, everything... just making sure you were okay, that you were still alive. Jimin had found his way inside, passing instructions from the paramedics to Yoongi next to him.

Jungkook looked on in fear, watching Namjoon fighting against Jin to get past Hobi and wrap his hands around Sangjun's damn throat.

"Namjoon-hyung! NAMJOON! StOP!" he yelled, nothing working to calm the chaos.

Through your blurred vision you could only see shapes, violently moving in front of you. You could hardly hear anything, your head clouded with concussion; you felt like you were watching from underwater.

"J-Joon..ie..." you choked, trying your best to speak, to get his attention. You needed to calm him, you didn't care about yourself right now. Your damage had been done, but Namjoon could do so much more...

He heard you, his head finally snapping to look at your broken and beaten body laying up against the wall. He saw your beautiful face, swollen and bloodied and the way your body fell limp with exhaustion and suffering.

He stopped fighting immediately, letting Jin pull him a few feet from where Hobi was restraining Sangjun - who by this stage, had given up trying to get away. Jin let Namjoon go, watching as he fell to his knees by your side, holding your hand in both of his and planting soft little kisses to your knuckles as you sat there, broken.

"I'm here, I'm here... I'm so sorry, y/n. I'm here," he repeated, over and over again. Guilt welled up inside him; you should have been his first thought when he burst through the door, but instead it was your revenge he had craved. He let anger cloud his mind and he lost control.

Jungkook went to help Hobi, cornering Sangjun so he couldn't attempt to run. He had given up though; police had been called, the jig was up.

It took a few minutes for paramedics to arrive, and a little longer for police. You were immediately heaved onto a stretcher and wheeled out to the parking lot outside where an ambulance and police cars were ready and waiting.

Namjoon held your hand the whole time, from the moment you were on that stretcher, down to the parking lot and inside the ambulance as you were checked over at the scene. He refused to leave you alone.

Statements were taken from each of the boys, and Sangjun arrested and shoved into the back of a cop car. Each of the boys made sure to tell the cops about the camera you had hidden to catch the evidence of his abuse, affirming the truth.

It was over. After four years of absolute hell, of agony and terror... you were free. ****************

Hospitals had never been you favourite place on earth, but waking up in one surrounded by beeping monitors and brilliant white lights was - for a change - totally welcome. You didn't mind the annoying, monotonous noises you could hear; they were almost comforting.

As you had opened your eyes, you could only see the bland tiles of the ceiling above you but after a moment of consciousness, you felt the dull ache all over your body, radiating from your face. You winced, trying to sit up in the uncomfortable bed but you arms were too weak to push you up.

"Hey, no... stay put. Hold on," a voice said from beside you. And then you heard a mechanical whirring, and you were slowly sitting up as the bed rose. You turned your head slightly to the side to see Yoongi, sat in the chair beside you with the controls for your bed's mechanics in his hand. "Hey," he said simply, a soft smile on his features.

"Y-Yoongi..." you croaked, your throat strained and dry from the lack of moisture.

"Oh, here..." he picked up a bottle of water from beside the chair, unscrewing the cap and standing by your side you pour a little into your mouth for you. Immediately, the dry burn in your throat was extinguished. "How are you feeling?"

You weren't sure how to answer that, having just woken up, but you didn't feel good; you knew that.

"Hurts," you mumbled, your face aching with the movement of every muscle in your cheeks. There was something attached to your face, covering your nose that muffled everything you tried to say. You raised a hand to touch it, feeling the cold metal brace that was attached to you to hold your nose in place.

"Want a run down of your injuries?" Yoongi asked cautiously. You nodded, bracing yourself for the worst. "Okay, your left eye socket is cracked slightly... Your nose was pretty smashed up, they had to reconstruct it; hence the brace holding it in place now. Two of your ribs are cracked, your lungs were in shock but have since stabilised and you had a pretty bad concussion. Other than that, just bruises..."

Wow, that was... better than you expected. But now you understood the agony in the centre of your face and the ache in your torso.

You noticed the drip attached to your hand too.

"To keep you hydrated, while you were out," Yoongi noticed your eyes following the tubes.

"Where's Namjoon?" you asked.

"Probably asleep in the waiting room with Jin. It's..." he checked the time on his phone, shoving it back into his back pocket, "around 3am. You've been out for almost two days, with surgeries and stuff..."

"Why are you up so late?" you questioned, your face stinging as your creased your brow. You let out a little wince of pain.

"Night owl," he said simply, smirking. "I told Joon I'd wake him if you woke up."

"Oh, no, let him sleep..."

"No can do, my sweet. He'd murder me if I did," he reached for your hand, giving it a comforting and light squeeze, before turning to exit the little room you were bundled into.

Alone with your thoughts for a moment, you let your mind run over what you could remember from the other day.

You remember Sangjun losing his temper, being thrown around... You remember him shoving you against the front door and hearing Jungkook's panic at realising you were being held by your throat. You remember a crash and falling to the floor, but not much else. Only being checked over in the back of an ambulance and whisked off to hospital.

You couldn't be sure if Sangjun was arrested, or if the police had got the footage you had caught. You prayed they had...

The door clicked open and Namjoon's sleepy face poked through the gap, puffy eyes searching for you. You raised your hand off the bed a little, waving meekly.

"Hey," he pushed the door open further, his voice laced with sleep and shut it behind him, coming to drag the chair closer to your bedside to sit with his hands enveloping yours. "How are you feeling?" he asked, concerned.

You sighed internally. You were going to get that question a lot, weren't you? In fact, there would be a lot of questions thrown your way very soon...

"I feel like I was hit by a car," you groaned.

"Yoongi-hyung has gone to find a nurse, try and get you some morphine to numb it," he reassured.

A moment of silence passed by as Namjoon scanned your body from head to toe. He'd seen the state you were in plenty over the last couple of days but seeing you awake and wincing in pain with every small movement hit different. He hadn't known what to expect, and he knew it wouldn't be good, but he couldn't help feeling so incredibly guilty for how things played out.

"I should've got in sooner... I shouldn't have waited, I-"

"Namjoon," you squeezed his hand, stopping him. "You did what you could, it's okay. You got to me when I needed you, that's what matters."

"Yeah but-"

"No... No buts," you silenced him again, watching as he looked down at the floor in shame. Another silence settled over you, the big question on the tip of your tongue. But you were so afraid of the answer, so terrified that you had gone through all of this for nothing.

But you had to ask.

"D-did he... Was he arrested, Joon?" Your voice trembled, your bottom lip quaking.

"Yeah, at the scene. Not before I laid into him a little, mind... He's in custody. The police want to talk to you," he spoke so softly; it was so comforting to you, just having him there.

"The camera?"

"Yoongi-hyung gave it to the police. They have the footage, so he's been convicted. The police just want your statement and background; how long he's been doing it, what he's done etc. They need to compile a list of other charges for court."

Your shoulders relaxed, releasing tension you didn't know you had been holding until then. Another wave of pain flooded through you as you did, and you winced aloud yet again.

"Forgot about court..." you sighed.

"You'll only need to see him once more. And then he's gone, for good." Joon ran his thumb over the back of your hand comfortingly. "He'll be in custody until then. No one is willing to pay his bail."

"No, his family don't speak to him."

"Figures," Joon muttered. "There's maybe something you should know..." he mumbled, fiddling with the drawstrings on his hoodie. You waited, looking at him nervously. "The press got wind of the story. Local journalists caught the incident on the police scanner and came to the scene to see what had happened. You and I had already left in the ambulance but they saw the others giving statements to the police. Bang PD was forced to release a statement..."

Your heart sank. This was how your career was going to start; the career you worked so hard for... And Bang PD knew. Was he mad at you?

"So Bang PD knows everything..."

"We had no choice... But hey, it's okay. He's not angry you kept it from him; he gets it. He's hired the best lawyers and is spending all his time looking into Sangjun's background. He's protective of his own, y/n. We're a family," he reassured. "And actually, he's been very supportive of... well, if we were to... y'know..." he trailed off, not knowing what your relationship was at this point or wanting to ask you; this was not the time nor the place.

"Joonie, I told you I loved you. I mean that," you said, squeezing his hand a little. He looked up, eyes hopeful and smiled shyly.

"Well, once all this is over with... maybe I can take you on a date? A real one. We can..."

"Be together," you finished his sentence for him, sensing his shyness. "I'd like that..." His smile grew again, dimples turning into craters the moon would be jealous of.

A knock at the door interrupted the conversation. A nurse wondered in, a cart in tow and Yoongi following in behind, shutting the door.

"Hi sweetie, good to see you awake," the nurse smiled sweetly. She was a pretty young thing, very petite and friendly. "You must be in some pain, so I'm gonna change your drip over for a solution with morphine in, keep it to a minimum," she explained everything as she did it, changing the tube to fix onto the new bag and strapping it to the mechanism next to your bed.

"Give it around 20 minutes, you won't feel it anymore. If you do or there's anything you need at all; food, a drink, there's a call button right here," she pointed to the little red button on the remote Yoongi had left by your side, smiled at you again, and wheeled the cart out, leaving you with Namjoon and Yoongi.

"Did Joon tell you that..?"

"Yeah, he's in custody. Thank you Yoongi; for giving them the footage," you smiled, noticing how awkward he looked with his hands shoved into his pockets and his foot kicking the floor.

"He was amazing, y/n. He took care of you, when I was... well, too preoccupied with beating the life out of him... He did everything the paramedics told him to, knew exactly what to do when we got inside," Joon explained, smiling fondly at his friend. Yoongi scratched the back of his neck, smiling awkwardly.

"Did what I had to," he mumbled.

"Thank you," you smiled. "To all of you. You may well have saved my life," your throat constricted as you swallowed down tears, your face stinging and aching with the force.

"Don't you ever thank us, y/n. You don't need to," Namjoon ran his fingers through your hair and brought your hand up to his lips, pressing soft little kisses to your knuckles.

****************

"Byun Sangjun, you entered a plea of not guilty for the charges against you," the judge began in the courtroom. You sat nervously in the stands with Namjoon and the boys one side of you, and Bang PD on the other side. Namjoon had been right when he said he was supportive. Work went out the window; he focused solely on your recovery - which was going well; bruises yellowing and swelling going down, but bones still extremely tender and healing - and getting as much evidence against Sangjun as possible.

He even found you an apartment close to the boys' dorm complex, which Namjoon had been staying in with you on the sly on the nights you hadn't spent at the dorm. You couldn't bare to be alone; not until Sangjun was behind bars for good.

Sangjun stood in the docks, hands cuffed together in front of him and a vacant look on his face. He looked tired, his cheeks sagged and eyes puffy. Any other person, you'd have felt sorry for. Not for this monster.

Namjoon held your hand in his tightly, jaw clenched as he stared at Sangjun with a fire burning in his eyes. He couldn't look at the man without wanting to beat him into the ground. Your fingers shook in his, fiddling with a little thread hanging from the sleeve of your shirt. You waited patiently, knee bouncing.

The judge continued.

"Therefore, with the evidence against you and the victim and witness testimonies, I have no choice but to come to a conclusion based on the facts presented in my court room today.

"The court has seen the vile footage of abuse recorded during the most recent incident and based on other testimonies and Ms. y/l/n's medical records, we have no choice but to find you guilty of not only repeated domestic violence, but one count of attempted murder for the monstrous attack weeks prior to today. Therefore, this court sentences you to twelve years in prison, with a minimum serve of 10. Dismissed." The judge banged his gavel, and stood to leave the court room.

In your bench, the boys all seemed to let out a long breath of relief at the same time, Namjoon turning to you and enveloping you in a hug. You sat very still, the realisation still not sinking in. You couldn't take your eyes of Sangjun, who was now being escorted out of the court room by officers to his holding cell before transferring to whatever hell-hole prison he was assigned to.

Just as he reached the door, he looked back at you with an expression you couldn't read. Was it...defeat? It almost felt like he was trying to tell you, 'okay, you got me. Fair enough'.

An officer shoved his shoulder roughly, nudging him through the door. That was the last time you would see his face, and the relief that washed over you felt incredible.

You turned to Namjoon, burying your head in his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head, holding you as you started to sob and the rest of the courtroom filed out.

"Shh, hey... It's over now. He's gone," he whispered into your hair.

Bang PD turned to you, his hand on your shoulder. You couldn't believe how sweet he had been throughout the weeks following the incident. You reached your hand to his and squeezed appreciatively.

"Thank you, sir," you whimpered, lifting your head to look at him. His expression was so soft that you felt guilty for ever having doubted he would kick you to the curb or be mad at you for any of this. Never could a man as sweet as him do that to anyone in their time of need. Especially one of his own.

"Pleasure is mine, y/n. Your future is yours now," he smiled, glad to see you out of this hell with the closure you rightfully deserved. You nodded, smiling genuine happiness with tears seeping down your cheeks.

Namjoon led you out of the courthouse with his arm around your shoulder, Bang PD on your other side and the boys trailing behind you.

A flurry of reporters were waiting by the courthouse steps, rushing to you as soon as you appeared. Of course the local reports of a woman attacked had grown into international headlines when they realised BTS were involved somehow.

Bang PD's statement was very matter-of-fact and clear that you - BigHit's new trainee - had been trapped in an abusive relationship for years and the boys had figured something was wrong, rushing to your aid to find you being attacked viciously. That was the official story. Of course they didn't know that they had planned the rescue, or that Namjoon and you were technically together; some things were better left unsaid.

Bang PD had needed to release a second statement when rumours started about Namjoon and you; he simply said you and he were close as friends and colleagues for the moment, as he was your 'producer'. But he had slid into it that if a relationship were to blossom between any of his idols in the future, he welcomed it warmly. You had found that so sweet.

Cameras flashed in your face and you cowered against Namjoon, Seokjin rushing to your side too to dispel rumours of a relationship yet again. You gripped onto him knowingly, having become accustomed to not favouring Namjoon in public. The others crowded you, offering their support also. Bang PD stepped forward, ready to address the press who quietened down, holding audio recorders in his face and clicking their cameras.

"Justice was served here today, and we as a company - a family - at BigHit are elated that our beloved trainee, y/n, is now safe. We would now like to move forward and focus on the wonderful talent that exudes from her as an artist and bring her the career she has worked so hard to obtain. Thank you," he bowed respectfully, keeping it short and sweet.

The chorus of reporters snapped their pictures of you with the boys and Bang PD as you made your way to the two waiting cars, finally leaving this horrific chapter of your life behind.

****************

Six months had passed, time healing the wounds on your body and slowly, the wounds on your soul too. You had gone back to work a few weeks after court, insisting you were ready to pour your heart into your debut.

Songs were finished in a matter of weeks now that you were free to work whenever you wanted, for how ever long you want. Choreography was created for your songs, which after the majority of your wounds had healed, you started to learn day in, day out. Music videos and concepts were created, centring around the idea of rebirth; fitting.

And now, you were stood backstage at MNet, waiting for your chance to debut on national television. The buzz surrounding you and your debut was of course heightened by the unfortunate events of your time as a trainee, but surprisingly it had worked in your favour. People were so interested in who you were, to see how you could come back from such a horrific ordeal.

Namjoon had watched your proudly in the run up to your debut. He had, in fact, become like a producer to you; spending his spare time working so hard on your music with you. His name was in the credits to your songs, on albums ready to be shipped out to stores at 6pm KST. But besides that, he had been your rock; there for you when PTSD woke you in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, trembling. There for you when you needed to vent, to let out your frustrations. There for you when you needed someone to take care of you, cook for you or just to hold you.

And yes, the two of you had become an item in the meantime. God, how you loved him. You adored the ground he walked on, and he the air you breathed. It was no longer a secret, more statements being released to inform fans of your relationship a month prior to your debut. The overwhelming reaction was positive - of course there were some nasty comments, but no boycotting and certainly not enough anger to create a stir.

So now, as you stood at the side of the stage at MNet, you gave a little wave to the love fo your life sat in the sound booth above the audience, looking down at you. He grinned and waved back, excited to see you finally debut.

While he had heard the songs, you refused to let him know anything else about your music. He was as much in the dark about your concept and choreography as the fans were. He had been practically giddy that morning, the other boys mimicking his excitement. They all appeared in the sound booth window too, waving excitedly. You giggled, waiting for the stage director to usher you out to begin the filming.

When the time came, you danced and sang your little heart out, perfectly in time with the music and the rest of your dancers and sounding like you had swallowed the CD. The fans ate it up, already having created an official fan-chant for you and screaming support at you when you ended the first cut. You filmed the song three times over from different angles to make sure they had all the footage they needed, and the fan's buzz never dampened.

Your song had brought Namjoon to tears in the booth, so proud of his baby girl for getting to this stage after everything you had been through. He was watching you live your dream, reliving his own debut and so immensely proud of you; he couldn't help the happiness leaking from his eyes.

You recorded the takes of your second song too after a costume and set change, and once again the fans ate it up. You had never felt so encouraged, so worthy in your life. They were happier for you than you could fathom, loving the girl who had been through so much and yet came out on top, like this.

You were a ray of hope, a beacon of belief that no matter what the hell you have been through, it does not define you, and it will not control you. And you were absolutely certain that this would be your message going forward; you would continue to spread that for as long as your career lasted.

No matter what the hell you have been through, it does not define you and it will not control you.

Fin. **************** Part One | Part Two | Part Three A/N ~ Thank you so much for reading! If you liked this fic, please let me know. You can find my other work in my masterlist below, and if you’d like to leave a tip or commission your own fic from me, the link it also below. Masterlist Tip Jar & Commissions

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